#imagining how all the different traumas must have changed them and affected their friendships

[hay1ock]

Episode 4 of Only Friends

Well, that was quite the episode. I’m going to be discussing stuff that happened, so if you’re aware of anything in the episode that upsets you please bear that in mind. I don’t intend to be all in your face about it but people have different limits. I myself was fine with the episode on first watch, but the second time it really hit me how there are certain things about Ray I relate to and I had a bad time for a little while. But *deep breath* it’s all good now and I’m ready to ramble. Also, I feel like my thoughts are going to be bouncing all over the place with all the various moving parts and stuff that happened this episode.

So, might as well get straight to it, the big one, Ray (+ Mew + Sand). Ray, the human version of the Poor Boy t-shirt. His whole breakdown in the bathtub about being unloved, unwanted, how he ruined his mom’s life, man Khaotung delivered. I’m guessing it might be a case of his mom getting pregnant was unplanned/inconvenient - like his mom had to give up her career, or maybe having him trapped her with a man she didn’t love or in a bad relationship, which in turn led to her drinking and ignoring him, and ultimately to her death. Based on the younger version of Ray, he was what? Mid teens maybe. He said high school so maybe 14-16 range. Was his mom like that since his birth or did it start later, she slowly began resenting him?

I’m glad Mew had enough about him to go round and check on Ray. (I know his friends get some crap - Boston rightly so - about not caring about him, but there is only so much they can do if Ray isn’t ready, as he needs to be willing to help himself) Ray’s little face and his voice when he saw Mew had come though… “You’re here?” Surprise/relief that he’d put his faith in the right person. Mew really had answered his cry for help. Ray deserves a big hug. It’s not hard to see why he cares about Mew, why he answered his phone, why he would support Mew’s relationship with Top even though he dislikes Top, and yes, I’m sure jealousy is part of it, but there is genuine concern about the kind of person Top is, and if he’s good enough. But yeah, whether it’s romantic love or something else, I’m not sure. I imagine it’s a bit of a mix. He sees Mew as having saved him so there’s probably a bit of seeing him as his hero, the only person who, up to that point (or that we know of), had shown any affection or concern for him and it might be those feelings warped into a romantic love, or maybe it’s just the desperate need to keep Mew close, keep that one ‘good’ relationship and person at his side and he has mistaken his feelings for love beyond that of friendship. Ray is a whole bag of emotions and trauma, and untangling those for him to explore his feelings about both his past and what’s happening now will be hard and most likely hurt him and people around him (and me!).

I’m glad we got to see what happened regarding the video and the kiss and well, to say I’m disappointed in Boston and Top is an understatement - will talk more about them later. Also, I know Boston is a bad friend, but seriously, knowing everything about Ray and still messing with his head last episode and even calling Ray a burden back in episode 1, Boston you are the absolute worst lol.

But anyway, the kiss, the one in the past. I’m sad Mew couldn’t return Ray’s feelings and it must have been hard to hear that he was perhaps the only thing that was keeping Ray from hurting himself. 2 years ago, so he’s 19/20 yrs old, being told that must have been rough and a lot of responsibility, and then the fear of what Ray might do if Mew rejected him. That change in music seems like a reflection of Mew’s anxiety of the situation. I do like Mew and that from what we’ve seen he is pretty straightforward and honest. He kissed Ray back, but as he’s said, up until Top, no one had been able to make his heart tremble. I wonder how things might have changed if he had felt something. Would Ray have been able to get a handle on his drinking? Despite 2 years passing, he’s still in the same place, maybe worse where his drinking is concerned. Could he have changed? Or would he just have made them both miserable? Guess we might end up finding out as him and Sand get closer.

Skipping back to the present and ahhhh Ray nooooo. I don’t agree with him kissing Mew and am glad he was called out for his behaviour, but I do feel like I understand why he did it, or at least see why he might have. First, we had Boston messing with him, bringing his feelings of ‘love’ back to the surface and also adding fuel to his worries about Top - don’t be a side character, do something before it’s too late, ie save Mew from Top. We also have Mew, he’s told Ray he phoned Top for help first and he’s also trying to push Ray’s feelings towards Sand (I believe Mew was doing so with good intentions, wanting to see Ray happy and have someone now Top has taken a chunk of his time), but I feel like Ray pushed back against that. I believe he has been feeling something for Sand, even if just out of curiosity, but in a way that’s a betrayal to his feelings for Mew, the person he literally owes his life to. I imagine he’s confused and desperate to reaffirm that Mew is the one he loves. Mew is telling him to be with someone who loves and takes care of him and for Ray that person is Mew. So, I get it, but don’t agree with it. Glad he apologised again at the end and I’m glad Mew was able to accept the apology. I feel like he backed down from pressing Ray further about the ‘why’ behind the kiss, maybe not wanting to distress Ray who looked to struggle when Mew asked. I hope they can maintain their friendship. I know Ray can’t change how he feels about Mew overnight. Whether Mew fully knew about Ray still liking him, I’m not sure, but either way, it’s all out there now, so hopefully, Ray can move forward.

And talking of where he should be heading in his attempt to move on, him and Sand. I don’t know if it’s because it’s First and Khaotung, or just the way they are portraying the characters, but they have the most ‘romantic’ chemistry at the moment for me (Nick and Boston has so far been more primal, sexual, and then Mew and Top… I don’t even know what theirs is, it’s mostly anxiety inducing is what. I don’t know how to explain it but it’s like my stomach drops and both characters give off vibes of wanting control).

I love seeing Ray and Sand together. I love Ray’s puppy eyes. I love that Sand can’t say no to Ray’s puppy eyes. Sand seems a pretty strong-willed guy so if he really didn’t want to do something I’m sure he would say so. He had no problems communicating to Ray about how he felt at the music store and I’m glad he didn’t actually scold Ray and call him any names. There was just this strange sadness when Ray said ‘Burden on Society’. I don’t know if Sand sensed anything, but I think him discussing his boundaries, like with Ray wanting to buy him things, and that he isn’t something Ray can pick up to play with when he’s lonely to then forget about until the next time, I think Ray needs that. Other than money, we still don’t don’t know what kind of relationship he has with his father, or if he had any positive role models/relationships growing up that would help him learn about things such as boundaries and making real connections with other people, not just by throwing money around. I do believe Ray cares about Sand’s feelings, not necessarily because he sees him as special or for romantic reasons, but Sand is a person in his life now and it feels like Ray doesn’t intend to upset people on purpose, he wants to be cared for but also wants to be able to care for others, even as far as to ‘save’ them. I like that Ray is able to realise when he’s in the wrong and apologise, he did it in episode 1, and a couple of times in this episode. People make mistakes, not everyone can admit to them and apologise.

The record store scenes were lovely. The conversation about music. The suggestion that Ray is stuck in the past with his mother’s music and his trauma, and with his feelings for Mew. That discovering new bands brings Sand happiness and the implication that Ray should do the same, step outside that damn room that he’s surrounded himself with his mom’s records and find something new to explore. To find himself a little bit of happiness. I loved the small smile from Ray as he seemed to be considering Sand’s words. Chronologically, we then have them listening to music and staring and hand touching. The way Sand looks at Ray *dreamy sigh*. It was nice to see Ray in a moment of peace, at least that’s what it felt like. A moment to just pause the world and as Sand said “let music do the work.” And so, after going to Mew’s to apologise, we’re then back in a bath tub, bookending the episode nicely. That flashback though, yet again, can not blame Ray for clinging onto Mew and what feelings he had for him. Ray of sunshine *cries* I interpret the end as him making peace with his feelings, or at the very least, realising that no matter what, nothing more can ever come from them and so it’s time to move on, even if he just takes a tiny step in the direction of the owner of the Poor Boy t-shirt. I really hope that no matter what heartbreak lies ahead, these two find a way to a happy ending together, even if it’s Ray goes to rehab, gets some therapy and we skip ahead however many months, and they meet up again afterwards. So a fresh start and we’re left hopeful they’ll work things out.

Okay, that first part might have been way too long, but I’m bias towards Ray and so… that’s how I roll lol. The next bits might be shorter, or they might not lol. Next the Boston and Nick and Top (+ Sand) mess.

Boston, you are the worst. I mean, I kind of get filming your friends in a ‘haha look at these idiots, I’m so teasing them tomorrow’ kind of way, but still, dick move. And you know what another dick move is? Screwing with your friend’s kinda boyfriend (still confused on how long it’s been - under 3 months based on what Boston said last ep - and what Top and Mew consider themselves to be, as Top kept referring to Mew as his boyfriend last ep and this one and Mew complained about Top not introducing him as his boyfriend to Beam at the silent disco), and then for his ultimate dick move, we have Boston forcing himself on Top. I’m glad Top actively pushed Boston off him this time and told him a few home truths. I said before it feels more about Boston’s pride and some weird one-sided rivalry/jealousy. Like even in the flashback, he seemed to be competing with Ray, but also dragging Mew into the conversation with Cheum. Like ‘I can’t beat Ray, but what about Mew? I’m sexier and a better option than him right?’. Honestly, I feel like, if gmmtv would let us have nice things and let Neo and Khao out of the friends zone for a minute, Boston would be that guy to comfort Ray and maybe makeout/sleep with him just to show he was that little bit better than Mew - ‘at least I fucked ya’. He seems to have no remorse over anything at the moment. Whether he grows as a person or is a dick until the end, I guess we’ll have to wait and see. We got a nice bit of info about his dad if anyone was looking to really mess things up for him. Not looking at anyone in particular… Nick.

So, Nick. Boston really should have changed his passcode after Nick fixed his phone lol. He is walking a dangerous line of obsession and I’m not sure exactly where he’ll fall by the end. He was like a smitten kitten in the first couple of episodes, and he looked at Boston with hope and adoration, but there was a significant difference in how Boston’s words worked (or rather didn’t seem to) this episode when they were together. It currently stands as him wanting to get Boston, for them to be in love, but, depending where both his and Boston’s games take them, I feel like it might just come down to him wanting to ruin Boston in the end. You don’t love me? Well sucks to be you. I am here for Nasty Nick and his obsessive listening to Top and Boston moaning (poor Sand though - he did not need to hear that lol) And then he brings Top into it, and in turn Sand (and we find out Top stole Sand’s ex - gonna assume that person will pop up at some point). Well, everybody will know about Top and Boston but Mew at this point. I have this horrible feeling when stuff comes out Ray will find out Sand already knew and that might be one of many reasons they have problems.

So Top and Mew. Their relationship is the strangest to me. It might be because as the audience we know more of what Top’s been doing behind Mew’s back, see more of his smug smirky face that I want to punch occasionally, whereas we don’t know that much about Mew as an individual, but I don’t know… *stares at them*. I know Top got Mew’s heart all a flutter but sometimes, I’m left questioning what Mew sees in Top and does he actually like him? They can have some ridiculously cute moments, the disco, the Photo Booth, in the shower. Then they have some really off feeling and tense, challenging each other moments, Top coming off as possessive and pulling him away from his friends, the reset scene at laser tag, the scenes at the end of this episode. I like that Mew isn’t a pushover but getting with Top seems exhausting to me.

Another thing I like is that Mew doesn’t judge Top based on his past or who he’s slept with. Like I said Mew seems to be honest and straightforward and he wants Top to be the same with him. And I’m very much a judge you by what you do now not your past kind of person myself (obviously there are some exceptions to that). The plane in Top’s room got me curious. Is there a Boeing? I assume so as even before he told Mew and the only B I could think of at the time was Boston, I was like, surely not. Boston doesn’t seem in the least bit sentimental and not sure what a plane has to do with anything, but I did have second thoughts as the camera lingered and shifted focus from the plane to the model car that looks very much like Boston’s behind it. It might mean nothing, or maybe ‘Boeing’ will show up, the shot is framing two issues that can come between Top and Mew in the future - Boston and this Boeing person.

Top keeps pulling me in and has me thinking, okay maybe he is trying to be a better person, he just keeps fucking up, you know, like people do, and then just as quickly, I’m screaming trash at him. Where as Boston falls on the love to hate him side of villainy, Top keeps sticking his head over the line into just hate him territory. We’ll have to see where things go. I did think he’d called Beam over for sex at first, but not seeing the scene play out I wondered if it was something else - like just hang out, drink and sleep, as Top was clearly feeling guilty thinking back to moments with Mew and Boston, so I thought he might have trouble sleeping. As it was it was drugs. One way to knock yourself out I guess… whether it’s always just been drugs with Beam, looking back at the conversation at the silent disco, who knows, and I would have given him the benefit of the doubt, as I do want to believe he wants to change, but he’d already got arsey over Ray, Mew’s friend, being there and apparently not happy that he got his knickers in a twist over a kiss from 2 years ago, so was doubting Mew when he said it stopped at the kiss, and THEN initiated some weird deal for him stopping drugs. Again, we know more stuff than Mew, but with that music choice too, it felt all kinds of sleazy to me. If I was Mew I would not have been in the mood for sexy shenanigans, but hey, you do you, and hand jobs don’t have to be that deep. Fucking loved it when Mew said no penetration, take it or leave it lol.

OKAY. I think I’m done. There were probably other things I wanted to comment on, but the rambling was strong with this one lol. Looking forward to Episode 5.

#only friends the series #only friends episode 4 #only friends series #firstkhaotung #sandray #forcebook #topmew #bostonnick #firstkhao #neomark #i love a good ramble #crying at mew calling him ray of sunshine #i just want Ray to be happy #i’m biased and I know it lol

[man-reading]

A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara

Book Review - A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara

Fiction Book Review

22 Jul

It's difficult to know where to start with a review of 'A little life'. If you've read it, you'll know what I mean. It's the story of four graduates who move to New York to make their way in life. Willem is an aspiring actor; Malcolm wants to be an architect but finds his job unfulfilling; JB is talented and trying to break his way into the art world; and Jude, an ambitious, brilliant lawyer, but deeply troubled.

We follow their lives over the decades, as their relationship with each other changes. They come together, drift apart, fall in and out of love and deal with addiction. But it's Jude with his body damaged by injury and childhood trauma, who is the centre of the book, both for his friends and the reader. Can he overcome his demons?

That's about as much as I can say in terms of an overview.

Yanagihara

I bought this book at the Sun bookshop in pre-pandemic Melbourne, December 2019. I had a gift voucher, so picked this and a couple of others and dragged them back half across the world to Ireland. I can only think the sun and bushfire smoke must have affected my brain, because it must have pushed my luggage allowance close to the limit.

‘A little life’ has taunted me from my TBR bookshelf. I had heard about the subject matter, so kept putting it off until I was ready for it. Truth is, having read it, I don't think that time would ever have arisen. I did eventually read another Yanagihara book called ‘To Paradise’ which I found interesting, if a bit long, and decided this summer, with the sun arriving early in Ireland (as if that would help) I was going to tackle this 700-page door stopper.

Word of warning - this book contains descriptions of abuse, self-harm, and suicidal ideation. If you're not in a good place mentally, I wouldn't be reading this book.

Immersive

Initially, I found this book completely immersive. It doesn't happen so often to me these days, but one afternoon, I think around the 200-page mark, I realised I'd read for an hour and barely stirred. There it is, I thought, that’s the book I've been hearing so much about it.

But this was soon to change. I think this is a great book if you have a fitness tracker, as increasingly I had to put this book down and go for a walk. Sometimes into another room, sometimes out of the house and into the local park.

There are a lot of disturbing scenes and thoughts in this book. It was a challenge for me to lift it from around the 500-page mark, and there were times I could only manage a few pages. But of course, I was so invested in the characters of Jude and Willem that I was never going to walk away from the book. The characters are so rich and detailed, the prose is clean and evocative, and the storytelling and structure keep you engaged.

Jude St. Francis

I found it hard to imagine Jude's character. For some unknown reason, he became in my head Rami Malek's character 'Louis Dega' from the film 'Papillion'. Even when he was described slightly differently, it was too late. I think the lack of details from Hanya Yanagihara was deliberate - the reader had to compose their own Jude.

I liked how Yanaghira paced the book - the story of Jude's childhood is told incrementally, interspersed with a matter-of-fact narration of his life in New York. It's not dumped on you all at once.

For all the pain and trauma in the book, I think it's important to highlight the love and kindness shown to Jude by Willem, Harold, Andy, and others.

It asks the big questions - how much can a person take? Can someone be saved if they don't want to be and if they have suffered so much? Can you truly shield yourself through your money and career? And is love and friendship enough?

Polarising

Of all the books I've read and reviewed, I've never been more on the fence than I have with this one. On the one hand, it felt incredibly depressing and bleak at times, much too long and depressing ( I realise I said that twice).

On the other hand, parts of it, especially the initial sections, are completely immersive and it has a lot to say about the importance of love, of art, of friendship. And it will most likely break your heart a little, get under your skin, and I think that's a good thing too.

It's a book that has polarised opinion and I can see why. I am glad I read it and it's not taunting me from my bookshelf. I will never forget the character of Jude St. Francis, and I'm glad that this book challenged me - I think that's a good thing.

I think I would have to know you well before I could recommend this - only you know if you'd be able for it. Incidentally, reading it in an Irish summer didn't help, as the weather soon turned to shit.

If you've read it, please let me know below - I think I need to talk to someone after reading 'A little life'.

720 pages, Hardcover

Published March 10, 2015 by Doubleday

Amazon UKAmazon US

Hanya Yanagihara talks about ‘A little life’.

A Little Life Quotes

“You won’t understand what I mean now, but someday you will: the only trick of friendship, I think, is to find people who are better than you are—not smarter, not cooler, but kinder, and more generous, and more forgiving—and then to appreciate them for what they can teach you, and to try to listen to them when they tell you something about yourself, no matter how bad—or good—it might be, and to trust them, which is the hardest thing of all. But the best, as well.”

“….things get broken, and sometimes they get repaired, and in most cases, you realize that no matter what gets damaged, life rearranges itself to compensate for your loss, sometimes wonderfully.”

“Why wasn’t friendship as good as a relationship? Why wasn’t it even better? It was two people who remained together, day after day, bound not by sex or physical attraction or money or children or property, but only by the shared agreement to keep going, the mutual dedication to a union that could never be codified.”

“Who am I? Who am I?” “You’re Jude St. Francis. You are my oldest, dearest friend. You’re the son of Harold Stein and Julia Altman. You’re the friend of Malcolm Irvine, of Jean-Baptiste Marion, of Richard Goldfarb, of Andy Contractor, of Lucien Voigt, of Citizen van Straaten, of Rhodes Arrowsmith, of Elijah Kozma, of Phaedra de los Santos, of the Henry Youngs. You’re a New Yorker. You live in SoHo. You volunteer for an arts organization; you volunteer for a food kitchen. You’re a swimmer. You’re a baker. You’re a cook. You’re a reader. You have a beautiful voice, though you never sing anymore. You’re an excellent pianist. You’re an art collector. You write me lovely messages when I’m away. You’re patient. You’re generous. You’re the best listener I know. You’re the smartest person I know, in every way. You’re the bravest person I know, in every way. You’re a lawyer. You’re the chair of the litigation department at Rosen Pritchard and Klein. You love your job; you work hard at it. You’re a mathematician. You’re a logician. You’ve tried to teach me, again and again. You were treated horribly. You came out on the other end. You were always you.” "And who are you?" "I'm Willem Ragnarsson. And I will never let you go.”

“He had looked at Jude, then, and had felt that same sensation he sometimes did when he thought, really thought of Jude and what his life had been: a sadness, he might have called it, but it wasn't a pitying sadness; it was a larger sadness, one that seemed to encompass all the poor striving people, the billions he didn't know, all living their lives, a sadness that mingled with a wonder and awe at how hard humans everywhere tried to live, even when their days were so very difficult, even when their circumstances were so wretched. Life is so sad, he would think in those moments. It's so sad, and yet we all do it.”

“Harold sighs. “Jude,” he says, “there’s not an expiration date on needing help, or needing people. You don’t get to a certain age and it stops.”

literary fictionContemporaryLGBTMental Health

#Youtube #Hanya Yanagihara #a little life #books worth reading #queer literature #literary fiction

[dornish-queen]

GQ MEXICO - PEDRO PASCAL 2021

It seems that Pedro Pascal is in all possible universes. Here and there. In the past, in the present, and in galaxies far, far away. Today, the actor is considered the great entertainment reference and one of those in charge of saving a franchise that seemed lost. Enough reasons to talk exclusively about discipline, gastronomy, creeds and how he traumatized his father in 30 seconds.

The RAE defines 'creed' as the set of ideas, principles or convictions of a person or a group. For example, by creed, one can leave his country and be in exile. It happens that one can leave the loved one behind. Or simply live in another reality. And also one can put on a helmet to pretend never to take it off again. If that is the path to follow, the creed says that it must be done with the profession of faith and without stopping to look. Turning the pages of the script for The Mandalorian , the Disney + series that revived passion and nostalgia for the Star Wars franchise , Pedro Pascal came across this definition in every dialogue and moment, and reflection carved his way.

More than two decades have passed since the Chilean-American, Pedro Pascal, began his acting career and today, named as the great reference of 2020 , he misses the theater and it still hurts him not to have the discipline to exercise and maintain a diet sana while acknowledging the irony of having the best year of her career in the midst of one of the worst in recent history. But even in physical solitude, the man who carried the best-selling Christmas baby rescues many positive things and shares his vision of the universes he has traveled through, his passion for distant galaxies and how to traumatize your family with a simple scene of TV. In an interview, the Mandalorian of Latinamerica.

IMDB named you the 2020 benchmark in entertainment, a year in which the world took refuge in fiction. How was living your best time locked up and what do you rescue on a human level from it?

The strength of family relationships and friendship. For them, we endure this physical loneliness. I do find it ironic that in 2020 I received projects so well received by the public, although they were carried out before the pandemic and their impact was during it, and that year I was isolated and alone. But I must emphasize that this loneliness is a privilege when many people had to continue working, surviving and maintaining the functioning of the world. We only had to be alone, but they more than that and you must value it too.

Among the activities you have missed, how much do you miss the theater?

Much indeed. It's something that I miss the most and being with people without being afraid. See a play and return to those experiences of being with people doing and living things in common. That is what I need most, in addition to my loved ones.

Disney fully entered streaming and its strong letter has your face, what do you think of the discussion of platforms against movie theaters?

There are incredible things in streaming and many people develop great projects that they did not have access to before. The diversity of voices is gaining ground and it is important to recognize that opportunities grow exponentially and boundaries change. It is incredible the availability that we have to very well made content and how creative people can share their work in different ways. But I also want to be honest: limiting the experience of watching content only on our gadgets or at home is a mistake that affects the stories we can tell. You have to achieve a mix of opportunities and challenges.

You jump between the fictional universes that mark the last decades until you reach the universe of universes. What is your first Star Wars memory and how do you summarize the essence of this legendary story?

For me, Star Wars is nostalgia itself. It is one of the primary things in my memory, of my childhood. I came to the United States with my Chilean family when I was less than two years old and one of my first memories is going to the movies with my dad to see the saga ; it becomes one of those romantic childhood things that opens your mind, so imagine how special it is to participate in this project. I think the creators of The Mandalorian perfectly understand this nostalgia and that power, and they managed to count on that element as a great ally for the world of Star Wars and I couldn't be happier to be part of it. (From which we expect the third season The Mandalorian)

The Mandalorian exploits the power and nuances of your voice, did you have that letter on your resume?

I didn't know I could do it, but I resorted to my theater preparation, which was very physical on all levels and feelings. There are elements that have to do with and that are essential to create a role, and they teach you that the voice is something primary, something you have to start with and you cannot hide. Now I have learned much more about the importance of that, and how to use it economically. The body also has to do with that, because something very subtle communicates something. In The Mandalorian , I had a great time figuring out how to do it, they gave me the opportunity to develop it in different ways. The opportunity to be very intense at it.

What happens to the ego when someone works under a suit and a mask?

In the conversations about the project, before doing it, we were communicated the idea and the concept of the entire season , so I clearly understood what it was. I wanted it to be the most powerful version of what they were trying to accomplish, so there was no point in involving my ego, you know? It was already very clear what the project meant, so I knew about the character , the piece that it represented for him and the opportunity that it was for me, so I was only focused on executing in a better way the part that touched me in everything this. In the theater, I worked several times under a mask and it helped me develop the experience.

It seems that The Mandalorian has a very theatrical base ...

Exactly, and thanks to the physical experience of working in theater, doing a play a few times a week, discovering how your body and your voice communicate , being part of a whole image, and how you will tell that story visually, I achieved this character. I never imagined that it would be something I would have to use on such an important Star Wars project .

On the list of entertainment greats, there are names like Steven Spielberg and George Lucas, do you think John Favreau should be added to the list?

I think your name is already included. Without a doubt, it is in that category and it is incredible. His vision fascinates me. I remember an episode in the second season , and I had some boots and I walked so much in the snow, it stuck to them. He figured it out, so he talked to the art department about the kind of boots you need when you're out in the snow. They approached me and gave me new ones that fulfilled the idea I was looking for. He noticed it in an instant. It is such a wonderful detail and it is repeated to scale in every session with him. He thinks of absolutely everything and his vision of the use of technology is admirable. He is someone who makes you feel motivated and always sees how to achieve the goal.

One of the reflections in the series is on how and under what circumstances a man can break his creed and way of life. What makes you break with your beliefs?

I think that you must follow your heart so as not to regret anything; Although sometimes it brings pain or conflict, deep down when you look back, everything is worth it because it was what you heard in your heart. I am very afraid to deny that feeling or not to attend to it. I am 45 years old now and I cannot believe I have a finer philosophy. Make it more disciplined. It's ridiculous, but I'm trying to accept that I am and it's all I can say, "follow your heart." Although, you know, I'm not on a good diet yet, I still have trouble sleeping or exercising.

Still good at Chilean empanadas?

Yes, I couldn't stop. And also how good that I do not live in Mexico City because I would only spend it eating. I could move my whole life to defe just to eat.

I want to deviate and ask you, with whom did you see the chapter of your death in Game of Thrones and what traumas did you cause in your family?

For me, no trauma. I separate myself well from the characters , although I fully understand that if I were a Game of Thrones audience and loved that character, it would make an incredible impression on me. Thank you that it was not. I had to interpret it and there was a model of my head to be crushed that way with the tubes and the fake blood, you know? Me lying there, with pieces of my meat, it was funny in the end. But not for my family. For them there is nothing funny but traumatic. My dad's voice changed completely when we saw the episode, he turned around and said: “I didn't like it, Pedro . No, Pedro , not this ”.

The media found similarities between your villain in Wonder Woman: 1984 and Donald Trump. When playing a character with characteristics like this, do you humanize him or do you understand him?

The project had nothing to do with the former president. They always told me that my character in Wonder Woman: 1984 was emotionally messy, and I took that and took that as far as possible. Instead of creating it with images or certain inspirations from life, it was more to work with what was on the page. Personally, what made sense to me is the size of the story that is being told and there is always more, and we all want more. Creatively, if this makes sense, that meant "blowing her out of the park." Connect a hit with the character and be committed to telling his story faithfully, in a way that was true to me. So all the exterior elements found their way.

What a way to start 2021 with the theme of the Capitol ... How do you perceive that moment?

I am not a politician and it is not that I do not have an opinion about this type of event; however, it is not necessary to state the obvious. My opinion would be very simple compared to that of a person who studied this, who knows how to act in these kinds of scenarios; I believe that I am next to the majority who experienced this, which is the logical result of what we have experienced during these years and we are all horrified . It was distressing to see this violence.

If you had the monolith in your hands, what would your wish be?

My wish would be… it's impossible, really (laughs). I think it is to be together again, with less fear and that people have the opportunity to connect.

What is your position on the reality that Chile has experienced in recent years and how has the relationship with your country been since exile?

It is something that I am developing and I continue to do in my life, trying to understand that it is my home. To be in Chile is to be at home, but my life has been very nomadic, living different things and having many influences; so it is strange, I do not feel with the title of a complete Chilean identity nor with an American one.

Neither here nor there?

In a sense, but I'm also completely both. My parents are Chilean , my brothers were born there before my parents traveled, and I came back sometimes because my family is very large; in fact, my parents came back. It has always been there, it continues to develop, and it will be a part of me. I don't know if it answers your question, but it has a lot to do with who I am.

What is your relationship with Latin American cinema? Are you interested?

Much, it has invaded me in life like American cinema. The movies that I carry in my heart, seeing something like Y tu mama was also something that changed me; I also love the work that comes out of Chile , and the only thing I can say is that it is a cinema that needs more access and projects.

Today you have a comedy with Nicolas Cage on the door, can you tell us something?

It's my first shot at comedy , as a complete story within the genre. Speaking of American influences , in the 80s I saw all the films where Nicolas Cage appeared , he came into my life and it's great to be his partner after seeing all his performances.

How is the relationship you have with the comedy genre?

I love it, I have done a lot of comedy in the theater, what happens is that in film and television issues , I was always part of drama castings . And in the cinema, you go where the doors open; Although I identify with one or the other, I think that being an actor , one goes and does what one has to do. Comedy is something unique, it is very challenging because it must be very real to be funny, you cannot hide or use normal tricks. I was very excited to have this challenge in front of a camera.

Finally, Pedro, after going through so many fictional worlds, literally, what do you dream about when you sleep?

I dream that my bathroom is dirty, that I haven't done my math homework, that the oven is on and all that stuff. Sure, there are times when I close my eyes and see myself in all these projects , although my conscience is with the anxieties of the day that you can imagine.

Without a doubt, Pedro Pascal is a particular type .

English Tranlation: Google Translate

SOURCE:  GQ MEXICO

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #gq mexico #Articles

[laurensprentiss]

Jouska [Hotch x Reader]

Chapter 14:

Gif credit: @dudeitiskarev

Warnings: None really, minor mentions of injuries, major trauma bonding, Emily and reader are true soulmates, Hotch drops a bombshell.

———

“There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.” - Laurell K. Hamilton

———

Relief is a strange thing. 

Hotch has been by your bedside for the two days you’ve been in the hospital recovering from your injuries. He switches periodically between your room and Emily’s, checking in, grabbing a stale cup of coffee and stuffing himself into a chair that’s much too small. He’d met Ambassador Prentiss on the night you’d been brought into the hospital, all hard lines and pointy corners packed into her petite, perfectly postured frame. 

Emily looks unsettlingly like her, he thinks. Just warmer. 

It was Elizabeth who’d finally managed to get a hold of your father in the early hours after you’d been brought in, after which he’d ordered the plane to be turned around immediately. He’d narrowly escaped his fate too. Unbeknownst to him, Jordan had arranged for somebody to have him taken care of as well.

He was debriefed on his way to the hospital, convoy in tow and had taken the time to handle his emotions en route. A few stray tears had rolled down his cheek when he’d seen you, the angry bruising on your face piercing his chest. 

He’d spoken with Elizabeth then, hushed voices that agreed to finally take care of this. 

“It’s the Fitzgerald boy?” He’d asked Hotch. 

“Yes, Sir. He’s in our custody at HQ. Senator Fitzgerald is waiting to see him.” 

“I think maybe we should pay them both a visit.” Your father had said evenly. 

It’s the most stoic Hotch had ever seen him and it was entirely unsettling. Hotch had always known him as a powerful man, but he was kind, affable, humble. He could see now the side to him that he hadn’t before, the side that controlled DC, pulled strings and cashed in favours and had a powerful, reputational political standing. 

He’d take care of it. 

And he had. 

Calls had been made to law firms - now any lawyer who valued their career refused to take on the case, despite Senator Fitzgerald’s own old-money influence. A public defender would try to get him out on bail the following day but a well-placed call to Chief Justice Archibald and the DA would ensure that wouldn’t happen. 

A seething threat delivered in your father’s expert, neutral and unwavering tone had been made to the Senator himself when he’d tried to cash in his own favours. That had sealed the fate for the Senator, his son and his legacy. 

“Try something like that again, Senator, and I won’t need my security to take care of you. After you let your dog off his leash, after what your boy did to my daughter - I’ll make sure you’re done here. Forever.” 

———

In the meanwhile, Hotch studies the marbling bruises on your face, the stitches above your eyebrow, remnants of your harrowing ordeal. He watches you exhale in short shallow breaths, slipping in and out of sleep but frowns when a stray strand of hair obscures your face. He reaches out and moves it gently, his finger brushing the jagged skin of your cheek. 

His breath hitches. 

He’s now developed a sort of tic, runs his fingers over the cool gold of your pendant that he still has a hold of, finds it’s the only thing that’ll fight off thoughts of a very possible different ending. He keeps reminding himself he needs to return it to you as soon as he can - can’t promise he’ll want to part with it, though. 

Relief is a strange thing. 

You’re alive and recovering but would anything alleviate the guilt that’s settled in his chest? He doesn’t think so.

Guilt that he’d allowed for Jordan to get close enough, that he hadn’t worked it out sooner. Guilt that his increasing involvement with you was what drove Jordan’s obsession to such a point. He still has to fight the thoughts in his head, all what ifs and imagine ifs, the only thing that grounds him now is the fact that you’re here. 

Safe and sound. 

He succumbs to his sleep with the intention of telling you that. 

You eventually wake up in the sterile hospital room, the sounds of the various machines you’re hooked up to annoyingly monotonous. As you blink your eyes open, you slowly become accustomed to the daylight outside, the reality of the past however many days settling in. 

Your eyes fall to the 6’2 man curled into a chair next to your bed. His arm rests on his forehead, small breaths escaping his mouth. You stir just slightly, exceedingly careful not to wake him but he jolts awake at the sound of the sheets rustling anyway. 

“You’re awake.” He whispers, blinking his eyes open. He immediately places a gentle, reassuring hand over yours. 

You chuckle, wincing a little from the pain in your ribs. “Hi.” You whisper with a smile. 

“Hi.” He replies with glassy eyes. “It’s good to have you back.” He says, fondly. “How do you feel?” 

“Sore.” Your voice is hoarse. “How long’s it been?”

“Two days. They sedated you to make sure there was no swelling in your brain from the accident after you passed out. You’ve got some bruised ribs and your face needed some stitches, but you’re going to be okay.” His voice is barely above a whisper. “Listen, I have some news.” He pauses, not sure how to phrase the rest.

You feel like you’re missing a limb, a sore pull at your chest when you remember Jordan’s words. He’d killed the two most important people in your life. 

“Yeah. They’re dead.” You whisper. 

His eyes widen in alarm and he takes a seat on the bed next to your legs, a reassuring hand on your shin. “What? Who?”

You fight the tears pricking your eyes and the heaviness in your chest. “My father. Emily.”

“What? No. No, no! They’re both alive.” He cups your face gently. 

“-But he told me…” 

“He tried to kill Emily after the accident. Your dad… he had the plane turned around before he got to Paris. Emily was in pretty bad shape after the accident, but she’s in recovery - they’re absolutely fine. The rest I’ll tell you another day.”  

It’s like the feeling returns to your chest. Your tears spill over. “They’re really okay?” You reach for his hand that cups your cheek. 

He nods. “And so are you.” He delicately wipes a stray tear off your cheek, a small chuckle escaping his lips. He soothes you quietly but his face lights up, an idea seemingly occurring to him. 

He shoots up from his chair to head outside. He holds out a finger, “I’ll be right back.” He says from the door. 

He returns around ten minutes later, with McCall in tow and the tension and turmoil of the last week all but melts away when he wheels in Emily, your dad following behind. Two security guards stand watch at the doors. 

You immediately sit up in your bed, letting out a shaky laugh, in disbelief that you’re all really okay. The state of Emily’s face throws you off first, angry hues of blue, purple and red bleed into each other, stitches and scars adorn her face and she’s sporting a neck stabiliser. A nasty gash on her lip and cheek make it hard for her to smile fully but she still squeals when she sees you. 

Your father almost crushes you in his embrace, quickly retreating when you wince but you laugh them both off, reaching for their hands. Your desire to hold them close is just as much affection as it is to make sure they wouldn’t dissipate as a figment of your imagination. 

The sure enough contact is something that you would’ve ordinarily taken for granted, but this time, it almost reduces you to tears. You silently thank Hotch who gives you some privacy and waits outside. He does keep you in his eye line though, watching you fondly from the glass on the other side. 

McCall pointedly clears his throat next to Hotch causing him to snap out of his stupor. “You know we can see you?” 

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re staring, Aaron.” 

Hotch rolls his eyes in response and wanders over to the coffee machine at the end of the hall, McCall trailing behind him. He hands McCall a piping styrofoam cup, taking one for himself, immersing himself in trying to cool the hot liquid but McCall sees right through him.

“Aaron. You remember what I told you the day we went to the Fitzgerald house?”

“Ben-”

“If it wasn’t clear to you then, it must be now. You don’t spend two days squashed into a stiff chair for an assignment. I saw the look on your face when you saw the wreck, I see the way you hold her.”

Hotch says nothing, just stares into his reflection in the black coffee. 

He places a sturdy hand on his shoulder. “Everyone can.” 

It’s true. 

Everybody can. 

While Hotch had spent the best part of the last two days by your bedside, McCall had been by Emily’s side, striking up an unlikely friendship. Topics change, things are said, speculations are made, and within it all, the topic of you and Hotch has come up several times. 

Emily had never been one to sugarcoat things, neither had McCall. Both of them had a degree of distance, and could see what neither of you could. 

“It’s now or never, man.” McCall tells him with a pat on his shoulder. 

———

You’d waved your dad out of the room after 45 minutes, his incessant yawning revealing his fatigue. He’d objected, of course, but after some persuasion from you and Emily, he’d said goodbye with a kiss atop both of your heads. 

Your father isn’t even out of earshot before Emily wheels herself in closer to you, a wry grin spreading on her face in spite of her split lip. 

“So,” she whispers, rubbing her hands together. “Tell me!”

You frown in confusion. “Tell you what?” 

She rolls her eyes. “You! And Hotch. Did you guys talk?” 

You use your hands to sign between the two of you. “Well, I don’t really know if you noticed, but I haven’t really had a lot of time to figure out crushes.” 

“So you admit it? You have a crush on him?” She cackles.

“Emily, for God’s sake. Stop. You’re incorrigible. Shouldn’t you be focused on yourself, didn't you, like, break your neck?”

“No, it’s a soft tissue injury-”

“For now.” You warn her. 

“You’re not funny. But seriously, have you given any more thought to what we talked about?”

“Emily, I will wheel you out of this room myself.”  

“Answer the question!” 

Yes. 

You had. 

It was one of the only things that had occupied your brain when you were stuck in that cabin. You still feel the effects of the grief you’d felt when you’d thought you’d lost him deep in your chest. Like a lingering ache. The regret was all-consuming, regret that you’d never been able to figure out what you felt for him while he was still around. Regret that you’d never been able to tell him. 

You’ve been given a second chance, you’d be an idiot not to take it, right? The feeling had been so chilling, you’d sworn in that moment you’d never put yourself in a position like that again. But fear and vulnerability still play a part in your decision. 

“Hey!” She snaps her fingers in your face with her good arm. Her eyes soften though, when she sees the faraway look on your face. “Oh, honey.” She takes your hand and takes a cursory glance around the room before turning back to you. “For what it’s worth - I think it’s a really good idea. You. Hotch.” 

You shake your head dismissively but she grips your hand tighter in spite of her injuries. 

“Really. I know you don’t see it, but he’d do anything for you, he killed that dirty cop y’know? You should’ve seen what a wreck he was after the crash, I made him promise he’d find you.” Her voice turns thick.

“You did?”

“Yeah. It wasn't fair to him at all, I never should’ve put him in that position. But he stayed with me when they brought me in, he thought I was asleep but I was watching him. He was distraught when he thought he’d lost you.”

That sparks something in you, a kind of warmth that spreads. It’s heady. 

“I don’t know, Em. What do I even say?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just matters that you say it. And quick. You need to tell him before he leaves for good.”

That stings. You hadn’t even thought about that. You’d been so used to having him around and him being a part of your daily routine, you hadn’t really thought about him not being a part of your life anymore. 

This was an assignment and it was over. You could just as easily part ways with the hope that you’ll forget him and the effect he had on you. That you’ll eventually stop thinking about him but there’s something in you that tells you he’ll linger deep in your soul long after you part ways. 

“I’ll think about it.” You whisper. 

———

“Red or green?” He holds up two Jell-O pots, one red and one green. 

“Red.” You sigh.

“Damn.” He mutters under his breath with a laugh. He takes his assigned seat next to you, handing you a spoon and pulling your table out in the process. He winces when he sits, digging two fingers into his back, just under his ribs. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Ah it’s nothing, I think I’m a little sore.” 

Shit. You’d been so caught up in your own thoughts you hadn’t even realised he’d been sitting there in that tiny seat, squashed together for the past two days. 

“I’m sorry. You have to squash yourself into that seat for me.”

“I’m not.” He says, almost instinctively. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” 

You both sit in silence for a moment, contemplating both of your earlier revelations. 

He breaks the silence first. “Well, I guess I should probably debrief you on the details-” He turns to catch you staring at him, a faraway look on your face. He frowns, “Hey. You okay?” 

“What? Oh yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, continue.” 

And that’s when he takes you through the night you were taken. He recalls how he came home after visiting Jordan when McCall called him to give him the news. He tells you that two of the cops that were on duty were killed in the crash and that Lawrence was Jordan’s inside man. He takes you through every harrowing detail from finding Emily barely conscious to being shot at, to finally finding you. 

Emily was right, the anxiety is etched on his face as though he’s reliving it. 

But there’s still something you don’t understand.

“How did you know it was Jordan?” You ask him. 

He sucks in a breath, eyes darkening for just a moment. “It’s complicated.”

“I think I deserve to know. Don’t you?” 

He clenches his jaw, the anger still fresh. It’s the strangest thing though, he’s not as angry about being cheated on as he is about the fact that it put you in danger. 

He inhales sharply. “Haley.”

“Ah.”

“You know?” He asks, alarmed.

“He told me when I was in that place. That he’d used her for information.” 

He averts his gaze, running a hand over his beard. “Yeah. Remember a couple of months ago when I told you we were having problems - the day I took you to the firing range for the first time?” You nod. “Well, that was the day she decided that she’d had enough, and she left. For two weeks.”

The same two weeks he’d avoided you for.

You disguise your hurt when you recall that period and he goes on, “I guess in those two weeks, she found somebody else to help her through her issues. Not that I blame her, I think it was a long time coming, we hadn’t been happy for a while. I admit I checked out of that relationship king before she did.” He swallows thickly before he reveals too much. “She didn’t know who Jordan was, but he knew she was my girlfriend - he took advantage of that, I guess.” He shakes his head. I’m sorry.” 

You frown. “Sorry? For what?”

“For putting you in danger. If I’d just kept my distance or given Haley more attention, maybe none of this would’ve happened.” 

Your heart sinks when you see the wounded expression on his face and you place a hand over his. “You have nothing to be sorry about.” You whisper. He scoffs, but you press on with a squeeze of his hand, “He still would’ve found a way to get to me. Haley, you - it doesn’t matter - he wouldn’t have stopped until he got to me. So I need you to listen to me when I say it isn’t your fault, it isn’t Haley’s fault. Nobody is to blame. Okay?” 

You need him to know that you don’t blame him, far from it, in fact. You revere him, you rely on him, you’re falling for him. 

You’re falling for him. 

He shakes his head, standing up. He refuses to allow you to make him feel better about the situation. 

He stands at the window now, gazing out at the parking lot. You drag yourself out of your bed for the first time that day, IV in tow and place a reassuring hand on his built shoulder. 

“Hey. Can you look at me?” He steels for a moment before finally turning after a minute. You close the distance between you. “Really. Hotch, you saved my life. The things you taught me, the self-defence, the weapons training? I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that.” 

Your proximity to one another drives you dangerously close to losing your willpower and spilling the secrets that lie on the tip of your tongue. 

He hates to admit it, but your words lighten the load on his shoulders exponentially. He was ready to fight this guilt for a long time to come, a fitting punishment for taking his eye off the ball. But your words seem to wash the blood on his hands away. 

He says nothing but smiles gently, watching you. He marvels at your heart, doesn’t understand how somebody could be so gracious even after everything that had happened. Your closeness, your warmth, it takes everything in him to not reach out and show you what you mean to him.  

He knows as well as you do that after this, he may never see you again. There’s no reason for him to. He didn’t want to give you the impression that he was using his leverage as an FBI agent to pursue something more with you, especially after everything you’d been through. 

It didn’t matter what his true intentions were. 

It didn’t matter that he was falling for you. 

———

You’re discharged three days and a deep shower later, and despite your dad pleading with you to return back to his estate, you’re adamant that you want to go home. Besides, you have a pit stop to make on the way. 

“No way.” Hotch’s voice wavers when you make the request. “I won’t allow it. Your father would kill me.” 

“You’re not in a position to allow anything.” You reply defiantly. “I’m not asking. You can either take me now, or you can take me home and I’ll go later. Either way - I’m going.” 

“Why? Give me one good reason you want to see him and I’ll take you.” 

“I don’t need to give you a reason!” But he doesn’t budge. You sigh. “I want to show him that I won. I want him to see that I’m going to be okay and he’s not. I just need to speak to him.”

He just grips the steering wheel tighter, the leather squeaking under his grip. He inhales sharply, taking some time to weigh your words. “Fine.” He says after a pause. “But I’m going in with you. He’s behind bars, but I’m still not letting you go in alone.” 

“I can handle myself.” 

“Damnit.” He mutters. “I know you can, but for God’s sake - I’m not letting him anywhere near you without someone else present.”

“Fine.” 

———

The guard leads you and Hotch to an interview room, and the telltale hue of an orange jumpsuit catches your eyes through the tiny window of the door. He has a sling on one arm, the other kept secure by handcuffs to the table, yellowing bruises on his face. 

You’re completely safe and secure, yet you shiver. You feel Hotch’s warm, large hand slink into yours, squeezing reassuringly. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? You say the word, I’ll take you home.” 

You take a steadying breath, your hand flexing in Hotch’s. “Thanks. But I’m okay. I’m ready.” 

You nod to the guard to let you in, taking the last few seconds to brace yourself. 

The door creaks open, Jordan’s eyes fall to you. The atmosphere is thick enough to choke on and the air is heavy, lingering with unfinished business. Your mind fills with cracked memories of a dark dingy cabin, the smell of his breath on your skin - you swear you can still feel his hands around your throat.

You steady yourself.

He shifts in his chair when you take a seat opposite him, nostrils flaring. “Well, well, well. Hey, Princess,” he scoffs. You shudder at his pet name, his jarring words abrasive against your skin. The reaction doesn’t go amiss by him, so he takes the moment of weakness to reel you in, snare you back into his trap. “Miss me already?” He look wounded when he sees Hotch follow behind you. “You brought him with you? This-” he lifts his cuffed hand as far as it’ll go without pulling on his arm, “Wasn’t bad enough? You had to bring the fed?” 

You don’t dignify his words with a reply. You opt instead to just watch him with narrow eyes, a play straight out of your father’s handbook. He squirms under your gaze, visibly uncomfortable when he sees the look on your face, unwavering, focused. 

“How’s jail?” You ask.

“Peachy. ’Course I’d much rather be with you.”

“Watch your mouth.” Hotch replies, anger simmering under his skin. 

“Bail?” You ask him. 

“No dice.” 

“Wonder why.” You hum with a wry smile. 

“No doubt you had your daddy pay off the tri-state area to keep me rotting in here. Always have been a pampered little bitch.” Hotch’s hands flex into fists but he continues. “What do you want? You’re not here to make small talk, I know that much.”

You observe him slowly, before answering. “How does it feel?” 

“What?”

“How does it feel to be a failure, Jordan?” That stings, you can tell, because as soon as the words leave your mouth, he shifts positions, hunching his shoulders like a dog about to attack. 

Except he’s handcuffed. 

You continue, “You tried to kill me, you missed. You tried to kill Emily, you missed. You tried to have my father killed, you missed, you even tried to have Aaron killed. Still, nothing.” 

“Aaron?” He hisses. “What, you guys are on a first name basis now?” 

He’s deflecting. 

“Answer me. You’ve done nothing but disappoint your father, he tolerates you. You had everything you could possibly need, you could’ve done so much with your life, Jordan - I actually pity you.” 

He blinks rapidly, desperately thinking of a way to attack you. 

“You think this is going to go away for you?” He snarls. “You don’t think I’m going to haunt your dreams? Everywhere you look, you’re going to think it’s me. Every time you get a letter, a package, your first reaction is going to be fear.” He chuckles. “I’m gonna stay with you, it doesn't matter if I’m doing life in here.” 

“I can handle that. I will handle that. But you - you’re gonna spend the rest of your life in a 6x8, with nothing to do except to think about all the ways in which you’re a fucking disappointment. A coward.” You force your voice to remain steady despite your entire body shaking. 

The chair scrapes against the floor when you go to get up, your hands clenched in fists, willing them not to shake. Hotch follows behind you and you’re already out of the door when Hotch is called back into the interview room by Jordan. 

A cold smile makes his way onto his face, an attempt to deliver one last blow. “You know I fucked your girl, Aaron?” He delivers his line calmly, his tongue in his cheek. 

What Hotch says will stay with him, long after he walks out of the doors. “Did you get what you wanted?” He nods over to the doors you’d just walked out of, a fond smile on his face. “Because I did.” 

———

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#aaron hotchner #hotch #hotch smut #hotch fluff #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #cm fanfic #cm fic #cm fic rec #criminal minds

[21tailsofwoe]

“cry for the moon: side H” musings

so i watched the hunter side of identity v stage episode 3 “cry for the moon” and i would like to let out my thoughts because there are so many of them and i do not know any better way of coping with my feelings.

spoilers for the stage play under the cut:

simply said, this production was leagues above episode 1, which i also hold very close to heart so you can imagine what episode 3 did to me. i’ve loved mary ever since i started playing the game almost a year ago, and to learn that there’d be an entire stage play dedicated to her. and not to mention that cecile daigo would play her role, i was already sold.

putting her character against eli, whose character (at least in the stage) is supposed to be this calm, supportive, empathetic person, i’d keep thinking how they’d pull it off, how’d they frame mary’s backstory, how everything would work out in the manor...i had so many questions. in the end, i came out so thoroughly satisfied by this stage. in fact, my friend and i cried multiple times watching this. it affected us THAT much.

story:

the story is a little straight-forward. mary is a queen who was executed by her own people. from my understanding, they didn’t allude to the revolution or anything, simply the fact that mary grew up in royalty and luxury, was taught to be high-headed, and self-centered, maintain that elite image. and in following this way of life, she ended up being extremely lonely, till everyone around her betrayed her and she was left to be executed. in the manor, now that she’s dead, she’s still very stubbornly insists that everyone treat her like royalty, that everyone else in the manor is beneath her, just so she could justify the pain from the loneliness and betrayal she felt. eli shows up, reaches out, the concept of ‘skins’ in the game is very cleverly used as a plot device, and the stage ends with mary learning about the Power Of Friendship(TM). she also learns to accept herself as a person, not as a ‘concept.’

i feel like the motives of the hunter main character seemed a lot more fleshed out. the connection to the survivor main character was established in due time, and all the pieces started fitting together as the story went on, something i found a little lacking in the first stage. like i said, it’s straight-forward and easy to digest, but still ends up tugging at your heartstrings.

characters:

mary’s characterisation was phenomenal. i’ve always been bitter about the fact that the game straight up copy pasted marie antoinnette onto her, but in the stage the creative liberties were put on full display. she’s her own character, with abundant past trauma which makes her cold and unapproachable. she’s so protective of her world view that she’d lash out on anyone and everyone who dares to change it. being called a ‘hunter’ makes her snap, makes her pissed, because she’s a queen! she always has been! there’s no way she could be standing along with other people! that’s not what she’s learned in her life time!

eli doesn’t have a lot of character moments because this was the hunter side after all, but he’s the same as the first stage. sees a lonely, recluse person, and wants to reach out. though the creators have stated that each stage is a different manor, or a different story, they’ve stuck to this characterisation of eli and i love it.

while the other hunters also had their parts, the more prominent ones were luchino and joseph. and joseph. oh goodness. his transformation from the first stage to now was something i craved for. he’s joking around with the other hunters, the other hunters also clown him pretty bad. he has a soft spot for robbie. the back and forth he shares with luchino also filled my heart with so much love. and most importantly, he’s the one who tells mary to embrace the present as it is, because holding onto the past will not do much. he fits the gap between eli and mary perfectly, and moves the story in his own joseph way. seeing him actually move on from his past and live with a healthy mindset, something we’ll probably never see in the game...it destroyed something in me.

joseph’s character also emphasises that in the confusion of whatever the manor wants from them, the hunters at least have each other. it was a very nice touch.

acting, direction, dialogue:

this is the part where episode 3 completely overshadows episode 1. cecile daigo is the star of this stage. she has once again won my heart. when she’s being cold, you’ll feel a chill down your spine. when she’s angry, you’ll physically feel that tension. when she screams and cries, you’ll have your heart sink. her dialogue delivery in any given situation hit in all the right spots. i’m still scared to go rewatch the guillotine scene because it was so incredibly painful to watch the first time.

not only that, but the way they creatively used this open stage which made the play seem so much more idv-like. the way they would place eli on one end of the stage walking in one direction, and mary would be on the other side walking in the opposite direction. or when the lights would follow them around the stage as they sang their duet, OR OR OR the way the actor playing mary’s mirror image would sync perfectly with mary, or even the way eli talks to mary in a soft, calm manner, knowing that she’s going through something very traumatic. it was all so beautifully done. the dialogues themselves were so impactful, we had to rewind some scenes just to appreciate the words properly.

music, costumes, misc:

the music. GOD the music. not only the hunter song, but also the score in the play itself. the fairy-tale like song in the fake world. eli and mary’s duet song. it was all perfect. in the end when mary returns to all the hunters with a change of heart, and ‘acclamation’ plays in the background i actually got teary eyed lmao. just the timing of everything was so spot on.

the costumes, just like the previous stage, were also perfect. mary rocking bloodbath while bride eli mopes in the background. the other characters in their alternate clothing was. something.

also. norton in a tux. phenomenal.

my personal favourite part from the alternate world was the dance, where i lost my shit two times: one, when i saw 0.3 seconds of fiopat and two, when i saw xiefan fist bump.

ty for the fanservice idv stage play.

as a milf enjoyer, i would’ve appreciated more of marymichi but i think this one screen cap alone is enough to fuel me for the next ten years.

gotta appreciate michiko for taking the shot at the start of the play. she missed terribly, but she took a shot and that’s what matters. go get your girl, michiko.

my review could be very extremely biased, though. sorry for ending on this note LOL. i love identity v so so much and i’ve invested myself in these doll characters way too much, so actually getting to watch my favourite characters TALK to each other, be part of each other’s stories, it may have slightly skewed my perception of of the play. of course, it isn’t without faults, but to anyone who loves idv, who loves mary especially, this is a must watch. i genuinely mean the praises i’ve given to this stage play and i do not regret spending my money on this.

i’ll watch the survivor side and the comedy stages eventually and i don’t know if i’ll be making reviews for those but i just had to talk about the hunter side.

thank you so much to the creators of this stage, to all the wonderful talented actors, and a big thank you to the new writers. this was more than i could’ve asked for.

hoping for a stage 4 with mary’s return xx

#identity v #idv #identity v stage #idv stage #idv stage play #cry for the moon #tagging the ships i mentioned for filters: #marymichi #michimary #fiopat #xiefan #metalks

[kimsnnn]

Part 1

Disclaimer: This post is in favor of my ship, Elriel. No hate, just an opinion. This is what makes sense to me. If this isn't your cup of tea, and it came up on your feed, no worries just skip please. 

If you look at it this way:

If the series were to officially end at ACOWAR then that would mean that there would be no need to add any more books due to the majority of the plot being resolved. If there were slight questions or plot holes that were left open, we as readers can basically create our own conclusion based of where these characters and their stories were left off at. That’s the beauty of being a reader, being able to use our imagination to extend the stories based on canon information to infer or even speculate what happened to those beloved characters of ours.

If its easy to answer these questions, fill these plot holes and resolve any issues within that story, then there would be no need for any additional books, and lets say there were questions that were pressing but not complicated to answer, a simple extra book could be added to resolve that like ACOFAS. ACOFAS could’ve concluded everything. She could’ve also showed Feyre or whoever freeing Vassa and then created a whole spin off on Vassa and her adventures including the plot of her defeating her captor Koschei while also dealing with the queens and humans basically introducing us to a whole new world and continent with new fae/fae territories (like chaol introduced in his book from ToG). Her LI would most likely be Jurian because Lucien would have ended up with Elain which we know because she resolved that in ACOFAS.

BUT

That’s not at all what happened. Things were not answered/resolved during ACOFAS.

The author which in this case is SJM knew that whatever obvious inferences/speculation we the fandom would have is not the accurate ending she had for these characters. So she decided to introduce far more books into the series as standalones but, still part of the overarching plot to truly get the full scope of what she has in store for these characters. Why make additional books based on the obvious ?  She’s a writer, she knows the importance of creating mystery or writing plot twists that we either didn’t or decided not to realize or even accept. So ACOFAS and even ACOWAR wasn’t there to answer last minute questions, to show us that our favorite ships did end up together, no it was there to be used to set up future stories like SJM said and be as close as can be as opposite of obvious.

At the End of ACOWAR we have :

Nesta

-THAT Nessian moment 🥰  (& Nessian moments in general in ACOWAR)

We can infer based on where those characters were left off that :

-They would end up together eventually.  I mean come on, Cass’s line *chef’s kiss*.

BUT what people forget is that was also her breaking point (trauma) 

-We didn’t know how her trauma would affect her, her life and loved ones, & how she’d heal Or what were even her powers. These questions were built up throughout all of ACOWAR

So what did SJM do?

-She wrote the answers to those questions in ACOSF while also resolving questions about Nessian’s status especially since Nesta first had to start healing to let herself be loved.

The evidence ? The set up to gain support to find these answers ? Its in ACOFAS

-Nesta’s drinking, isolation, rage, fear, loneliness and self hate

-Nesta’s avoidance of her sisters, the IC and Cassian

-Cassian’s persistence, confusion. Feeling helpless.

Same thing can be seen for Elain

At the end of ACOWAR

Elain

-Civilness between E and L.  She seems more at peach and want to plan gardens/rebuild

We can infer

-Elain talked to Lucien so she forgave him or is on track to forgive him. From this we can assume the possibility of Elucien being endgame.

Elain also must be healed because she smiled and wants to help rebuild. So that all equals acceptance of her powers (on occasionally seeing things and that it, that’s her power), her new life and bond

BUT what we forget is the iconic Elriel moments (Hybern camp & truth teller connection), Elain’s world/future going up in flames, the consequences/trauma of having been gifted these powers

-We don’t know the full scope of her powers, why the cauldron adores her, how she feels, why were we given blooming moments between Elriel 

So again what will SJM probably do?

-Set Elriel to be endgame. Cause civility/friendship/forgiveness/CLOSURE between Elain and Lucien. Get In depth about her powers, her trauma and how it has affected the life she thought she would have. Have her come into her role in the NC and have self growth. 

The evidence? Its in ACOFAS & ACOSF

-Elain’s anger and desperation to have a choice, to have her own agency

-Elain’s avoidance, tolerance, discomfort of Lucien ( she wilts and regresses)

-Elain’s push to contribute more and firmly declare she’s a member of the NC

-Elriel’s tension & build up ( glances, smiles, blushing, gifts, humor, awareness, longing, protectiveness, attraction, actively trying to distract themselves, etc I could go on and on)

-Confirmation of Elain’s power still existing. Her whereabouts: where is Elain when the IC are facing obstacles?

-Her visions still to happen. The fourth dead trove needs to be found: it makes sense that it would be found by Elain (& Az) ( the crown: Braiylln, the harp & mask: Nesta, the fourth trove: Elain)

*If there are 3 cauldron made and Braiylln found one (& is now dead), Nesta found 2 but couldn't get a good read of the fourth, that means it'll be up to Elain & Azriel because they are basically the only two in the IC who closely work with shadows and even mist. Maybe Nuala and Cerridwen would also join in searching which id love.

Now let’s ignore the evidence.

From that moment at the end of ACOWAR again: 1) we see Elain who seems better and 2)we have Elain and Lucien who seem to be in a civil place 

So we assume she’s healed or on track, and her relationship with Lucien is looking up. So why would SJM write a whole standalone on the obvious?

If she’s healed and okay, if she and Lucien will be a sailing ship why be so secretive and unclear on Elain’s story, on who she ends up with?

Nessian was so clear, there was no REAL doubt that they would not end up together despite the obstacles between them, two of them being her rage and trauma. But Nessian would be and are endgame period. All the other “prospects” were just for angst, development and humor. Not real threats.

She wrote Nesta’s story because the worry and question wasn’t on Nessian’s validity, she established their validity and their romance when Nesta prepared to die with Cassian, when Cassian promised to find more time with her, when Nesta called for Cassian, when Nesta Wass worried for Cassian, when Nesta would constantly pay attention to him without realizing it (his wings) when Cassian ran after her during solstice, when Cassian bought her a gift etc. The worry and questions were ALWAYS on and about Nesta’s role, powers, and trauma because they were the influencing factor that affected everyone’s future, Nesta’s life/health and Nessian’s ability to finally able to come together.

If Elucien were endgame we as a fandom would know without a doubt that they are. There would be many more moments of ooh’s and hmmm’s and less mystery and confusion on their validity. There would be far more angst and these characters would have be seen more often together (seeking each other out, but Elain never does) or at least have them have more than one scene of mutual civilness where they dont talk awkwardly, and have a real conversation not one that seems forced, especially by Feyre. Even with the obstacles between them and their distance (because of the obvious elephant in the room) we should have scenes that showcases clear interest between them but we don’t. There is only one true scene where we have that and its at the end of ACOWAR, Im not blind i could see where people might interpret it as Elucien confirmation and who knows maybe I'm wrong and it is but, I read that differently. That to me was confirmation that a friendship between them is possible. Something completely platonic but just as sweet in a different way. That scene to me wasn’t charged it was not even a slow burn or even a spark it was healing and the foreshadowing of a possible friendship.

ALSO:

*Possible ToG spoiler below*

I don’t think it’s too far fetched to assume that Vassien is a thing. And in all honestly I also don’t think its too far fetched to have Lucien (& Vassa) have their own book like Chaol (& Yrene) did. Chaol was an important/original main character from the very beginning of the series who ended up doing grave mistakes. He found himself lost in life to later finding himself gaining a new purpose outlook & perspective when he left the continent to only meet his new LI Yrene freaking Towers who SERIOUSLY changed the whole game ( I freaking love her) and was extremely valuable to winning that war. This is so similar to Lucien’s story so far and Vassa (the firebird) who I expect to resemble Yrene in value and vitalness  BUT it is important to state that Lucien is nothing like Chaol and is far more SUPERIOR. So No this is not me saying Lucien is like Chaol. This is just me seeing the resemblance in their journeys so far, which might be due to SJM possibly reusing the same template on purpose.

Part 2

#elain #elain archeron #elain x azriel #elriel #acotar 5

[shyrose57]

Brothers anon back again. I had a sort of writers block for the last like 2 days which made it really hard to do some questions, but I got em done finally. Sorry about the wait. This one is split between the numbered questions, and next ask is the other questions you asked!

I think I accidentally skipped a question in the last one. I honestly don't completely remember but in case I did skip it by mistake, the groups first travel out of the city's limits and even further beyond in a carriage. When they reach the end of how far the driver is willing to go they then get out and start walking. With Jackie screaming about how their finally going on a adventure. 

1: It thankfully doesn't get to to bad before the others notice. And he immediately told them about Dream, wanting to be very clear with what happened and what they where getting themselves into. But they accepted him anyway and helped him. 

2: Isaac is the leader cause Cletus is too much of a wildcard and too impulsive to lead safely, Charles is too shy to lead, and while Benjamin is perfect for leading he doesnt really like leading and is more of a follower than a leader. But Isaac can joke around and gets along with everyone but also be able to take things seriously and know when something needs to be handled.

5: They do not, they last for a few minutes and unless its a healing or regeneration potion (in which it can take a few days for it to fully go away) they have no long lasting affects. They do know of eachothers past to an extent, they know enough to avoid triggers and enough to know what not to do when around eachother. They know through telling eachother, and they feel awful Grievous and Jackie had to deal with that, but leave it in the past and focus on making their current life better. 

6: Yes and no, while Jackie did mean to throw it at Ran, he ment for it to just hit nearby him, not directly hit him. It was ment to be more of a scare/intimidation tactic than anything else honestly. Grievous's luck is for basically everything, he has won the lottery twice before actually but only those 2 times, he's correctly guessed how many items are in a container more than a few times as well. 

7: I use the height charts and they help mostly for comparison, problem is I have trouble applying it to real world stuff and because of that I still have trouble knowing if something or someone is to tall or short. Jackie can get very mean, like he can make fun of someone who just lost a loved one or experienced a traumatic event at the worst. But he usually doesn't get nearly that mean, most he does normally is making fun of how someone looks or how they do certain things. The others comfort him the best they can when he gets sad, and when he gets mean they either encourage it (Grievous), or discourage it and stop him (Watson. Ran is between either encouraging or discouraging it).

8: He was! He spent most of his life adventuring actually! He misses it somedays now since he lives in Subbin, but he believes giving up his adventuring life for a family and friends who needed him is a more than far trade and would happily pick his family over adventuring again. For around 4 years after Ran left Mizu (including the day he left), Ran traveled everywhere, and learned how to survive himself and taught himself different things, like sewing. Ran has made new socks, fixed clothes, and made blankets for everyone at least once. Watson also designs bows and arrows for show, for top functionality, and for just simple (training) gifts to the others. Ran (and Watson) has visited the nether, though Ran tended to stay in it longer than Watson cause he could withstand the temperatures better. And while digging a new tunnel across the nether he ran into ancient debris, which he then messed with until he figured out to mix it with gold and coat his sword in it. He tried to find more ancient debris but sadly hasn't found any, leaving his sword permanently damaged and at risk of breaking. Jackie isn't good at all at painting, its more of a hobby he's trying out. They try to camp out there at least once a week, where Grievous will sometimes build a pillowfort and either force everyone inside or play a game of capture the fort with them. Sometimes Ran will also read during the pillowfort nights, but not to often. Jackie wants to vist a Snow, Savanna, Jungle,  Tagia, and if possible, a Ice Spike biome. He also wants to vist the nether but he'll have to fight Ran on that. Ran and Jackie's secondary titles are in Javanese!

9: Ran just kinda went "Hey Jackie, stand still for a second." "Ok?" And then he just picked him up and threw up. 

10: When he's first given dinner after already eaten lunch, he just kinda stares at the food. Then asks if they meant to give him food, and when the others say yes, he asks why because he thought people only ate once every few days. His answer shocked the others and they ask him to explain, and he explains futher that he was only allowed to eat and drink once every 3 days. Their horrified by this answer but explain to him how theres 3 meals a day and he can drink whenever, he doesn't believe them at first but eventually accepts it. 

11: When the fishermen first come to Ranbob about their worry, he expresses the same worry as them. But says that it's unlikely Ran will hurt the fishermen specifically, because Rans haunting are already friends with them, and Ran wouldnt risk breaking the friendship unless he deemed it necessary for their safety. 

12: Ranbob is sad that Ran goes to such lengths to avoid him and keep people away from him, but he has resigned himself to it. As he knew that if Ran was alive it was greatly unlikely that he would trust him and knew he would be avoided. Which is actually particularly why he believes Ran will never trust him again and why he views Ran as a kind of lost family member. One he'll never get back no matter what he does.

13: Their first stop is a nearby flower biome, and after that Watson has planned to lead them to a waterfall he found with a shattered Savanna somewhat close to it. They plan to travel for a minimum of 6 months, they can actually travel for as long as they want to, but Prokius made them agree that they must be back before the next General Pit Battles (which happens once every 5 years). 

14: He would 100% run himself into the ground until he's barely alive while searching for them. Benjamin compares Ranbob wanting to go back to Dream, to an abused person wanting to go back to their abusive lover. They believe they've changed and that they truly do love them and want the best for them, but in reality that's not it at all and others have to help them see thats not true and help them save themselves. So it doesn't surprise Benjamin or Isaac that much (it surprises Charles and Cletus though), and after its explained to them, their all more than willing to help Ranbob get over Dream and help him be himself again.

15: Oh definitely. Once they hear the Green-Eyed Enderman is back from hiding they all set out again, and after the group gets attacked and once word spreads that its in a group and there's another enderman with them, they all get targeted. With the Gladiators and Fishermen being targeted as bait or hostages to try to trick the enderman into following a trap. Ran wasnt affected like his brother was. Im talking about trauma and maybe even a bit of PTSD that came from Mizu, caused by Dream. Though both of the brothers have gained different amounts of trauma and PTSD from Dream. I may give the raven to either Watson or Ran, I think its fits both of them really well. I want to have them come across ruins of other Tales but im not sure which ones. Maybe they could find the remains of the Wild West Tale and the Haunted Mansion?

Glad to see you, Brothers Anon, and excited to read!

1: The perfect start to an Adventure. And a funny mental image. Imagining these two groups cramped into carriages is pretty amusing. How ready was everyone to get out by the time they could?

2: The fishermen are really great, and Ranbob is very lucky. I love them.

3: Isaac sounds like he’s a pretty good fit for it then. But nobody’s perfect! What are some flaws of his, leadership-wise?

5: Interesting. What makes Regeneration and Healing last longer? I suppose it’s not relative to the AU, but I am a bit curious. What’s the world’s potions mechanisms, if you don’t mind me asking? And that’s good! They may not know everything, but they know what to avoid, and that’s important. Everyone’s moved forward and are making the best of life, and honestly, that’s pretty cool of them.

6: Welp, Jackie, it seems intimidation tactic failed. However, you have managed to anger Ran, so..there’s that. He won the lottery? Dang. Well, if they ever need money, they can just send him to the nearest casino, I suppose.

7: Aight, so I may have a solution for you there. Whatever height you’re going for, find something in real life that’s just about the same height. Like a tree, or something. Or not, we can always just leave it at short enough to be tossed and tall enough to be the tosser. Jackie sounds like he knows where to hit to make it hurt, honestly. It’s good that they comfort him, though I am curious why they all react as they do to him being mean. Why does Grievous encourage it? And is it more of a depends on the day thing for Ran, or a depends on what was said to Jackie, and what Jackie’s saying thing?

8: Nice! What kind of places did he go? Does he have any particularly interesting knickknacks from that time period? And Ran personally sounds like he knows what he’s doing. Watson’s weapons sound really cool, where did he learn to make them? Is visiting the Nether not a common occurrence these days? Or is it simply that the others never got around to it before? Well, hobbies are always fun to try. Does Jackie keep at it and get better or get bored and try something else? How does Capture the Fort go with these guys, considering they’re gladiators? Why does Jackie want to visit those particular biomes? Is there a reason, or do they just sound cool to him? And why would Ran not want them going to the Nether? Because of the danger?

9: FDXGHJ- He just- tossed him?? No warning?? Oh my gods, I’m dying. How did Jackie react to that? Heck, how did Porkius react to that? I doubt anyone was expecting that display.

10: Oh, no. Now I really want to punch Dream in the face. What the heck, Dream?! He legit asks if they meant to give him food...If one of the fishermen or gladiators doesn’t eventually find a way to punch Dream, I will be forced to travel realities and do it myself. 

11: Kind of sad that Ranbob was equally concerned about it. But hey! He won’t have to be, one day!

12: Poor Ranbob. I hope he’s proven wrong, eventually. Do the fishermen know that he thinks this? If so, how do they feel about it? Or does he kind of just keep those thoughts to himself?

13: Flower biomes are really pretty. What did everyone think about it? Did they bring any flowers with them? So this roadtrip could possibly go on for a few years. Did they leave just after a General Pit Battle, or do they have like, less than five years? Speaking of General, is Jackie still the General in this AU? Does he have extra duties because of it? Or is that not something that happened in this AU?

14: Yikes. Reactions to this? Why does Ranbob believe Dream’s changed, as you put it? Is Dream still able to talk to him, or is it because he just misses being there? So Benjamin and Isaac aren’t all that surprised about it. Do they take the reins in helping out? And how do they all do so? It’s good that they’re helping him though.

15: Well, this sounds like it can’t end well. They try to use the hauntings as bait? Is anyone actually captured? Rescue missions? And alright, that makes a bit more sense. I can see how they’d both be effected differently, and honestly, they’d probably both have very different perspectives of the event, all things considered. Ravens for the win! And it’d be really cool for them to come across the ruins of old Tales buildings. Can you imagine the kind of things they’d find? Diaries, faded photographs, moth-eaten clothes, blood stained floors...Like a walk in the past, but they’ll never know what came to be for the people of that time.

#Brothers AU #dream smp #dream smp au #ranbob #tales from the smp #ran #jackie #watson #grievous #isaac #benjamin #cletus #charles #porkius

[fanficflaneuse]

One Day - Part 5

A/N: Hello magical tumblr friends! I hope you’re all doing alright. So...we’ve reached the middle of this series! I can’t believe I work four chapters in a week. Goodness! I feel on fire right now. I hope you like it. What’s about to come is just plain, simple, absolute drama. 

For this chapter, I drew a bit of inspiration of a series called The Arrangement by @fandomsfeelsandfanfics. It’s not plagiarism or anything, but I did have it in mind as I wrote. All of this to say you should check it out if you haven’t, it’s an amazing series and I’m waiting for an update lol. 

Finally, thanks for all your love and support

Here we go: 

Draco x reader (she/her pronouns) Word count: 2607 (oops...I did it again! (lol) I’m sorry it’s so long. I think this will be the longest chapter of the series).  Summary: One day AU. Post-war. Since The Battle of Hogwarts, Draco and y/n meet one day a year.

Masterlist 

3 May, 2002

“(Y/N), you cannot lock yourself in your library forever.”

“That’s rich coming from you, Hermione,” she said, her voice hoarse.

The brown-haired Gryffindor rolled her eyes, trying to be playful, but there was a hint of concern she couldn’t hide. (Y/N) had been working nonstop. Headmistress McGonagall had offered her a position at Hogwarts. Without a second thought, she quitted at the Ministry and now spent a lot of time in her library, revising every book on DADA and making her best to create a study plan that was challenging and fun. She was also writing again. (Y/N) felt her life was heading in an interesting direction.

“Listen, (Y/N/N), I love you. We all do,” Ginny said as she dragged (Y/N) to her room, Hermione trailing behind them, “And we support every single one of your choices. But you cannot keep waiting for Malfoy to appear at your doorway and magically revive what you had.”

“Besides, he’s bad news, (Y/N). You’ve seen what they write about him in the papers. Not someone a respectable Hogwarts professor, like yourself, should be associated with,” Hermione pointed out, using what they now called her ‘ministry voice’.

“He is a good –“

“We know, we know, love. We know he can be a good person. He is – or was? – our friend as well. Not as close as he was to you,” Ginny raised an eyebrow playfully at this, warranting an annoyed eyeroll from (Y/N), “But we did help save him from Azkaban, didn’t we? So yes, we know he can actually be a good person. You just can’t go around saving him forever, dear. Don’t you realize most of his friends have stopped talking to him because of his behaviour? Merlin! Even Parkinson and Zabini are friendlier to us now than he is.”

“He’s chosen a path, (Y/N/N). He’s not trying to change. And even if he was, he’s not here. It’s time for you to move on,” Hermione reasoned.

(Y/N) sighed. She missed Draco way too much. Sometimes she wondered if he missed her. He hadn’t contacted her in a while. No owls, no visits, no cuddles. It had started out small, a bit of extra drinking during the week, an increasing amount of partying. Then every time she saw him, Draco was nursing a drink. Then the visits started to spread out. He’d always have a party to attend, an invitation somewhere and some sort of alcohol running in his veins. His letters stopped coming shortly after. As she got busier, (Y/N) ceased reaching out for him, tired of his excuses and self-destructive behaviours. She started mourning their friendship and her love for him.

At that point, the infamous articles were already a thing. Draco’s drunken antics had warranted him the moniker of “enfant terrible” and his misadventures were fuel for Rita Skeeter’s sensationalist quill. He always made the front page for the worst of reasons. Everyone had tried to talk some sense into him, to no avail.

“I can’t move on from something that never happened,” she declared in defeat.

“Well, more reasons for you to put this gorgeous dress on and enjoy your date with Ernie,” Ginny pressed on as she threw a blue dress over her shoulder.

“We’ll be waiting for your every detail,” Hermione added as she started working on your hair.

Ernie McMillan asked (Y/N) out at least five times before she accepted. In the end, she did because of her friends’ insistence. Everyone agreed she needed to go out. (Y/N) hadn’t been on a date for such a long time, even she admitted to herself the idea sounded tempting. She wasn’t particularly attracted to Ernie (she wasn’t particularly attracted to anyone whose name wasn’t Draco Malfoy), but she found him very sweet and patient. As the day approached, (Y/N) was getting excited about it.

Then, just the day before her date, she was invited for tea at Malfoy Manor. The affair had been so nerve-wrecking that (Y/N) came back home and cried her eyes out. She spent all night in her library, curled up in a ball. That’s where Ginny and Hermione found her. She had puffy eyes and seemed tired. They didn’t need to think too hard to guess what was the reason for her sorrow. It had been the same for a couple of months now. That’s what made them push harder for her to go out.

As Ginny helped her with her makeup, (Y/N) could only think about her visit to Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. The only time she had been in their lavish mansion, she had been tortured and put in a cellar with her friends. As she stood in front of the gates, she felt her hands clammy and her whole body shaking. Every fibre of her being was begging her to turn around and run. She felt the tentacles of her fear and trauma engulfing her again, trying to drag her down, reduce her to tears and panic.

“Are you alright?” said a voice she’d recognize anywhere: Lucius Malfoy himself had come to greet her. She saw a lot of Draco in his father. The striking grey eyes were almost too painful to look at.  Lucius’ eyes didn’t hold for her the same affection Draco’s did, but she could recognize a mixture of respect and also a bit of fear. Was he afraid of her? Or was that concern? Did she look that frightened?

“Yes, sir. I was just…”

“Remembering?” he offered, an apologetic expression settling on his aristocratic features.

(Y/N) nodded in response. She tried to smile at him.

“I am glad you could come, Miss (Y/L/N). My wife and I have not had the pleasure of your company since the trials. We never got the chance to thank you for everything you did for us,” he said, motioning her to walk with him.

They strolled through some beautiful gardens. The flowers were blooming and the peacocks showed their beautiful feathers. As they entered the house, (Y/N) felt shivers down her spine. She had to stop for a second and take a deep breath. Lucius waited for her patiently. The walked up the stairs and move through different halls.

“We well be having tea at our living quarters. Narcissa is recovering from that hippogriff virus. Fortunately, it is under control, but my wife is still very delicate and needs her rest,” he explained as he opened the door to the room.

Narcissa Malfoy greeted them. She was seating up on the bed, her back pressed to a mountain of fluffy pillows. She wore an embroidered nightgown and her silky bedspread covered her up to her waist. She was a vision; even in the comfort of her bed, Narcissa looked like a queen. Her whole demeanour, even her seemingly informal attire, made (Y/N) feel underdressed.

As soon as (Y/N) was close to the bed, Narcissa grabbed both of her hands affectionately. It took (Y/N) less than five minutes in front of that majestic woman to decide that even if Draco was physically a copy of Lucius, everything else was absolutely Narcissa: his mannerisms, his smile, his way with words.

“I am so happy to see you, (Y/N),” she said, offering her a smile so wide that reminded her of Draco.

As Lucius brought her a chair and left to fetch the tea, (Y/N) felt really out of place. It was not only the looming idea that she was intruding, but also the way in which such domesticity seemed so strange to her. Draco had told her about his life growing up, how he had a seemingly happy childhood, even if his parents were – to an extent – emotionally distant. The Manor was huge for him alone, but his parents dotted on him and cared for him. (Y/N) imagined that this scene, three people sitting close by in the middle of a huge room, was a constant in Draco’s childhood.

As minutes went by and both women engaged in small talk, (Y/N) let go the idea that Draco would barge through the door at any moment. She then concentrated in her current situation, trying to figure out why would they, of all people, invite her over for tea. Narcissa noticed this and pursed her lips.

“I am going to be direct with you, (Y/N). I know it must be very strange, our invitation, I mean. I do wish we had done it sooner, for I have a lot to thank you. The matter at hand, though, is not a joyous one,” she explained, carefully, “we are very worried for our son”.

(Y/N) gulped. She was about to respond when Lucius came back, balancing three cups and a teapot. As he made his way to them. He served the three cups with effortless elegance.

“I hope you like jasmine tea, Miss (Y/L/N) ,” he said as he offered her a cup.

“Yes, it is excellent,” she answered, trying to adopt a posher inflection in her voice.

Lucius and Narcissa shared a meaningful look. “I was just telling (Y/N) how we are worried about Draco,” she explained, almost as a though it was a nuisance.

“Worried?” Lucius scoffed dramatically, “I am not worried. If anything, I am mad and disappointed. He is tarnishing the family name with his stupidity.”

“He is worried,” Narcissa decided. Lucius sighed and nodded in response.

They talked for a while about how he had gotten into drinking. It had started with a glass of firewhiskey every other day, then he was drinking every night, going to bars and partying until very odd hours. The conversation flowed between Narcissa and (Y/N), with Lucius adding his somewhat scathing remarks. They talked about the articles in the Daily Prophet and the stupid moniker.

“I have not talked to him in a long time, Mrs. And Mr. Malfoy,” she said at some point. Her vision got a bit blurry with tears, but she was determined not to cry in front of them. She tried to blink them away to no avail. She looked away. Lucius took her cup from her trembling hands and Narcissa enveloped her in a hug. (Y/N) started crying on her shoulder.

“I wish there was something I could do. I tried. I really tried,” she sobbed.

(Y/N) felt really stupid for how she was behaving. But both Narcissa and Lucius were surprisingly nice about it.

“Dear, we did not invite you here to ask you to do something. We know if anyone has tried to help our son, it has been you. I was really sick, you know? As a matter of fact, I almost died. If you ever get that hippogriff virus, please do take it seriously. When I was delirious, only two things truly worried me, (Y/N): one was leaving Lucius behind and the other one was Draco. My son’s life is an utter chaos as it is. And I know my husband and I have a very big responsibility and a lot of blame for his bad decisions, but I also know the kind of person I gave birth to. And he is a good person. I know you saw something in him. Something good. And as I started getting a little better, my heart was suddenly set on one thing. I needed to know you. I needed to know that someone out there genuinely cares for my son and sees him for who he is, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) felt her heart heavy with longing. She took Narcissa’s hands. “I love your son,” she said and immediately felt her face getting hot, “a –as a friend, I mean. It’s no secret we haven’t talked much in the last year…but I still care for him. I think I will always care for him.”

Narcissa squeezed her hands and smiled at her. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

As Lucius was escorting (Y/N) out of the manor, they bumped into Draco himself. He could barely stand on his own. He reeked of alcohol. His eyes were glossy and an easy smile was set on his face. Lucius frowned. The sight, however, broke (Y/N)’s heart.

“Hellooooo, father,” he slurred.

“Draco, where were you?” Lucius countered, trying to be as patient as possible.

“Around,” Draco said.

“You have been around for three days now. Your mother was very worried.”

(Y/N) winced. Draco took notice of her. At first, he didn’t recognize her (or maybe he didn’t want to recognize her), once he was sure it was her, he tried to stand up a little straighter. He gave her what he thought was a charming smile, but his mind was so hazy it was actually pitiful.

“Hello, Dray,” (Y/N) whispered, trying to keep her emotions in check. As she said this, though, Draco lunged forward clumsily and gave her a hug that felt almost like he was slumping onto her. (Y/N) held him in place, almost collapsing under his weight.

“I’ve missed you so so so so so so so so so much, (Y/N/N). I promise I’ll write more. I miss you,” he said, covering her face with kisses. His breath also stank of alcohol. Although his words were a consolation, his deplorable state made her very sad.

“Behave, boy. I thought I had raised you better,” said Lucius in annoyance.

He grabbed Draco by his shirt and pushed him away from (Y/N). Uncoordinated as he was, he fell on his bum. He searched for (Y/N)’s face, teary eyed. As they made eye contact, (Y/N) was reminded of a very small child. She wanted to cradle him in her arms again and reassure him that everything was going to be alright. (Y/N) knew that wasn’t the best idea. Her thoughts were echoed by Lucius, who, as kindly as possible, asked her to leave.

(Y/N) kneeled in front of Draco, who looked at her with a bit of sorrow and a great deal of confusion. She kissed his cheek and he smiled.

“Take care, Draco,” she said very softly.

Just thinking about that now, as Ginny blended her eyeshadow, gave her enough reasons to want to apparate in Malfoy Manor. She knew her friends were right; she couldn’t save Draco forever. She couldn’t change him either.

As Hermione and Ginny pushed her in front of her mirror, (Y/N)’s heart was shattered. She looked beautiful. The dress fit perfectly. Her makeup was incredible and her hair was twisted in a delicate braid. Somehow, even like that, she felt like hiding herself under her bedspread. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her doorbell.

Ernie had arrived.

…

“I can’t believe I’m going out with a published author,” Ernie said with a cheeky smile. 

“Oh, it’s just a couple of short stories in The Hogsmeade Review. It’s not a big deal,” she answered before taking a sip of her wine.

“The Hogsmeade Review is a big deal, (Y/N/N),” he countered, “it’s where most big shot writers started. I believe Newt Scammander published his first essays there as well. Can you imagine your novels becoming standard Hogwarts readings?”

Ernie had a very articulated opinion on everything. At times during the date, (Y/N) would let him talk and talk and talk, until he seemed to exhaust his information on whatever they were now discussing. Did it bore her? To infinity and beyond. She couldn’t deny, though, that his enthusiasm was a bit infectious as well and she needed something like that at the moment. And, surprisingly, she wasn’t having a bad time.

So, when he asked her out for a second date, she bit the inside of her cheek and accepted.  

tags: @naomi02hook @okaydraco @fandomscombine @iliketoast23

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy reader insert #draco malfoy inserts #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fluff #draco x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco inserts #draco fluff #draco #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfics #draco fanfics #harry potter #harry potter reader inserts #harry potter imagines #post war harry potter

[erazonpo3]

It’s Era talks about topic of the day time, but I’m gonna do so in a way that’s more about our broader cultural perspectives on moral philosophy and how it relates to the narratives we tell. So

The topic of the Redemption Arc is one that’s come up in a big way pretty recently, and so the debate emerges- what makes a good redemption arc? I’m not really interested in answering that question. 

But what I will argue is that, as others have said before, a character should not have to endure suffering as a prerequisite for being redeemed; it is not necessary for their growth, it is not beneficial for their victims or the greater good, and encouraging it as a necessary part of a Redemption narrative (note that writers choosing to create conflict throughout a redemption arc can be a valid narrative decision) is just indulging in a sense of sadism that utilises a westernised conceptualisation of ‘justice’ to see a character they don’t like get put through the wringer before they can ‘earn’ love or compassion. 

I get it, the antagonist was an antagonist for a reason, and they probably did shitty things and you as an audience member are allowed to choose not to empathise with them (even though most narratives these days are driven by emotional character arcs that encourage empathy and compassion as a core value), or you can choose to empathise with them but still condemn them and their actions. However, what I’m going to go into in more detail is the fact that your personal feelings about an antagonist in a narrative don’t really hold any weight because the redemption narrative requires just as much empathy for the people who were affected by the antagonist’s actions just as much as it requires empathy for the antagonist themselves.

And if those characters choose forgiveness? You don’t get to argue the point because you prefer to frame justice as punishment for the wrongdoer rather than empowerment for the victim, in whatever form that may take. So here’s my extended take: if an antagonist suffering in order to earn their happy ending is more important to you than the good that comes out of a redemption, consider that no. 

Part 1 - We live in a society

There’s no easy way to break it to you, but I’m afraid we live in a society. Namely a Western society that is dominated largely by Christian cultural influences and authoritative bodies of governments with legal structures that are built on colonialism. Considering that western nations around the globe have historically dragged their feet in making changes like “human rights apply to all humans”, it’s fair to say this isn’t a great basis for our foundation of morality. 

I should also say that Christianity as a faith does not equal bad, but contemporary Christianity in modern society has an exorbitant focus on the fear of damnation, which goes hand in hand with the legal system as a form of coercive power. Furthermore I should clarify, I’m not saying laws are bad; I’m saying that a good thing is not good because it is law, and a law is not good because it is law. The authoritative bodies of western society rely on the fear of punitive justice for misdeeds rather than an encouragement of charity and cooperation because law and order is easier to maintain through fear than generosity. 

But I’m not here to make a statement about society, because that’s its whole own essay, but what I can say is that our moral codes are best made on our own terms and not by the people with a vested interest in keeping us lawful, because historically their idea of lawful is “you’re only human if you meet certain conditions”. Like, the government of my own country mailed me a non-legally-binding ballot to ask me if I thought letting people get gay married was a good idea. They’re not the people I’m letting dictate my morality to me, alright. 

Anyway the whole point of this section is to remind you that your ethical foundations likely come from institutional groups that encourage you to believe that justice = suffering, because people are scared of suffering, and people who are scared are easy to control. 

Part 2 - Redemption, and who gets to decide who gets it

I’m going to answer that right here right now- probably not you. That’s right! Even when we’re dealing with narratives, where the people are fake, it’s not really up to you to decide who gets to have their happy ending and who doesn’t if you’re not the person writing the thing. If you want that power… write the thing. 

But what you should also keep in mind is that redemption narratives usually start with a character recognising that they’ve done the wrong thing, expressing regret for that- which ideally leads to them never doing the thing again. From a purely pragmatic standpoint, this is the point in which everyone has to step back and remove their feelings from the situation and consider the bigger picture. You can give zero dogshits about an antagonist, but if you’re going to pretend to be a good and moral person you should probably consider their victims, be they direct or indirect. 

Starting with the indirect, we consider all the people who are part of this world’s society. I’m now going to introduce you to some fancy macroeconomics terminology called positive externalities and net social good. The principle is simple: when the government pays for somebody’s education and they go on to become a doctor, I benefit from this transaction despite having nothing to do with this because doctors good. The positive externality is that I benefit when the government pays for someone else’s education, and the net social good is that everyone else benefits as well.  

When it comes to crime, the general idea is that an offender who can be reformed and rehabilitated is less likely to commit future crimes once they’ve served their time, so any rehabilitation efforts contribute to net social good. Of course I have to state here that life is far more complicated than a simple black and white model of crime > reform > good, but the general idea is that where society can see improvement, an effort must be made to ensure said improvement. You don’t get to derail a net social positive in a demand for righteous justice because you said so.

Demanding righteous justice even when there’s no benefit to society is how you get the death penalty remaining in 28 US states- despite being incredibly inefficient and expensive compared to life-without-parole sentencing (and who knows how many incorrect verdicts that can never be reversed)- as a result. Yay. 

Moving on to the direct victims, you have to accept that these characters with personal stakes are likely going to have different reactions to their antagonist depending on the severity of the circumstances and their own characterisation, moral code etc. Reflecting real life, narratives give us an array of characters who have different ethical standpoints and responses to their situations. And if a character decides to forgive their antagonist? Hey ho you don’t get to be the one who says “actually, no-”. 

Forgiveness is a kind of forgotten virtue of mental health these days, in no small part due to misguided advice from people who have no idea what they’re talking about. Forgiveness means very different things to very different people. There are people who can forgive the murderers of their family. There are people who hold grudges about the pettiest shit imaginable. Forgiveness isn’t a slap-a-bandaid on answer to finding closure, but when it is applicable it is incredibly empowering. 

When you are an audience member projecting your emotions onto a protagonist, of course it’s easy to say “I’d just hate that person forever!” because you’re not the one who carries that burden. Hating people is exhausting. Unless they’re doing societal harm, it’s probably not worth the emotional investment to hate them. If you can find closure through forgiveness, it’s not up to anyone else to tell you that that person doesn’t deserve it or that you’re a pushover because of that. Mental health comes first. 

It’s personal anecdote time, so here’s a small warning for mentions of sexual assault. Obviously I’m not going to go into the details because that’s weird and unnecessary, but what you need to know is that there were two different incidents with two different endings. Person A went on with their lives as I went on with mine and I don’t know how they feel about the incident but based on what I know of them, I’m not given reason to assume they regret it. Person B was a friend who hurt me in a pretty ugly way but immediately regretted what they’d done and gave me a very sincere apology both straight after and later again to assure me they understood what they’d done wrong. I forgave them, because I valued their friendship and I cared about them and I trusted that they were sincere, and I don’t regret that decision. 

Because between the person who worked to be in a place where I was comfortable to forgive them and the person who will never give me that chance, which do you think gave me any kind of satisfying closure?

The point of that anecdote isn’t to say every character has to be like me. It’s a perfectly valid reaction for someone to say “you’ve worked hard to be a better person and I’m glad for that but I’ll still never be able to forgive you for what you did to me” because I’ve been there as well. Forgiveness isn’t the key to a prior antagonist’s redemption arc because their self improvement should be entirely self-driven and not reliant on another person. However I argue that a prior antagonist should be allowed to work towards redemption to provide their victim a sense of agency- if forgiveness comes with conditions, they should strive to meet those conditions. 

And that’s the crux of the matter. 

A redemption for the sake of the character being redeemed is only one part of a big picture about recovering from trauma. They should strive to be a better person for their own sake and for the sake of others, so that their redemption serves as a net social good. They should strive to be a better person so that the people they’ve hurt might be able to find closure in the fact that they’re trying hard to be a person who can be forgiven, whether or not those victims actually choose forgiveness or not. 

Forcing a character to suffer for your own vindictive self-righteousness deprives this outcome, denies the victims their agency and closure, creates a neutral or negative externality in which the prior antagonist either performs no future good or goes back down a path of criminality, all because you believe they deserve to suffer more than you want actual justice. 

And that’s, like, bad.

#The main Point of this is just being an assault survivor who's sick to death of being told that I shouldn't forgive someone who hurt me #fuck u that's my choice #keep in mind this topic is one i've done tertiary education level study on #so i'm hashtag qualified to discourse

[fratresdei]

A Letter to My Beloved White Friends, by Karla Johnson

Karla Johnson, a member of my spiritual direction training cohort from back in the day, has graciously given us permission to share powerful, needed words from her blog this month. Find the original post in the comments, and subscribe to her blog to read more letters to come. The original text is reproduced below.

Dear White Friends:

You are lost. “Hurt, mad, insulted, grief-stricken and enraged more than I can say,” as my dear white uncle said. You don’t know what to do. You want to help—and of course you do. You’re a good person. This is my attempt at sharing guidance, from someone who holds both black and white inside of my skin.

I love you, my dear white friends. Let’s start there. You are my brothers, sisters, best friends, teachers, cousins, nieces, and nephews. You and I belong to one another. I am also an African American woman, by bloodline, culture and identity. African Americans are my brothers, sisters, best friends, teachers, cousins, nieces, and nephews. I was born with inherited racial trauma. (Inherited trauma is a thing—you can look it up). I have hordes of relatives, but only one who is a cop; a close cousin, who wears his badge with honor, excellence, and commitment. He’s also black. I pray for him often during times of (visible) racial unrest, and break into scared tears every time I pray. My heart, through an odd positioning, spans the width of our collective racial anguish.

Still, there is something deeper than any other identity I carry, with the exception of my faith. I am a mother. A black mother of two young black men whom I carried, painfully labored into birth and successfully raised through some very tough times. Any mother can understand that my children are my greatest pride and my deepest love. So please understand that racialized violence hits me different.

My dear white friends, most of you don’t know what to do. Here are some tips, from your white-skinned black sister:

I want you to imagine witnessing a terrible car accident. Then imagine walking up to one of the wrecked cars, finding someone who is still bloody and injured, and saying: “watching you go through that trauma was hard for me. Can you please give me some emotional support?” That’s what you do when you ask black people to help you deal with your angst. The phrase I’ve been using these past few days is this: “As a black woman, I’m struggling to take down my own bitter cup. Please, dear white brothers and sisters, stop trying to pass me your internal poison so that you can find relief.” If you’ve done this, you didn’t know what you didn’t know. You’re forgiven. But please stop.

If you want to understand, do some homework. That can be as easy as a google search. There are essays, blogs, books and articles galore which can help you get a better feel for what’s happening.

If you have black friends (or friendly black acquaintances) please check in on them without agenda. If that feels strange, imagine that they lost a distant-but-important relative, because that’s what it feels like. Dear white friends, you know how to offer comfort during loss, so there’s no need to be intimidated. Just send a simple text: “Just checking in. Is there anything I can do?” or “Thinking of you. Are you okay?” Let them know that they are more than a headline to you. If you are a praying person, pray for them and let them know.

Don’t talk about the issue or the headlines unless you already have a strong friendship with that person. It is awkward and unwelcomed to bring discussions of racism to a random black person in the grocery store or some such thing. Just like you, all they want to do is pick up their eggs and get home. Part of the difficulty of being in black skin in America is constantly being recruited as teacher, sounding board and priest to white people’s racial angst. Please let black people go about their days without such recruitment.

When you interact with black people, for the love of God, stay white. Nothing is more insulting than watching a Caucasian person try to use language, inflections or gestures which are not theirs in some awkward attempt to prove—with neon signs—that they are not a racist. I know this sounds strange, but black people know you are not black. They can tell just by looking. If you don’t want to look like a racist, be yourself, no matter who you are addressing.

Embrace the fact that you are a good person on the wrong side of an ugly history. You would never pull a trigger on a black person just because they are black. But, like me, your ancestors built this system. People who look like you continue to perpetrate this horror. That doesn’t make you guilty, that makes you and I unwilling recipients of an ungodly inheritance. We can’t keep pretending that isn’t true. The good news is your heritage also gives you tons of power to affect change. Make peace with what your (and my) people have built. Then consider—-from your position of lament—affecting change, even if that change is in your own perspective and social circles.

If you experience anger against you because you’re white, learn to deal with it without lashing out or diving into shame. I’m sorry, my dear white friend, but you must let go of the idea that you can be part of the solution without having your sense of innocence disrupted or called into question. And if you don’t have any tools to absorb feeling falsely accused because of the color of your skin? That is something a person of color may be able to help you with, if you are sincere in wanting to learn and can come to the question with neither defensiveness nor agenda.

Your guilt and your shame doesn’t do the tiniest bits of good to anyone, black or white. Work through it. It’s not helping.

Be aware that you are losing something personally important to you. You hate the circumstances, but as the scales of justice try to right themselves, you are losing your sense of security and your assumed power base. That loss is real. And eventually, that loss will make you feel threatened. (Even as you remain outraged against the racism.) That doesn’t make you a monster, that makes you a person. But please don’t take those feelings to the cause, and please keep tabs on your own, understandable defensiveness.

Especially in our culture, we hate to admit our own privilege—even to ourselves. I am an embarrassed participant in this dysfunction, and have often struggled to admit (much less claim) my own privilege. Please confront the lie that you are not privileged because, like me, your privilege is enormous.

You need not feel accused nor ashamed nor “less-than” because you hold privilege. You have also struggled, endured hardships, worked hard, and suffered. You’ve known pain. Your privilege does not detract from, lessen, or mitigate that reality. You get to own your story without excuse, no matter what privileges you’ve been afforded. You need not defend anything.

As a Caucasian brother recently said to me, “white people murdering black people is not a black problem. It is a white problem.” I can add nothing to his words.

Imagine walking into a room full of black people, where you are the only one with white skin. Then imagine someone bringing up your skin color, and having the whole room swivel to stare at you, hoping for answers, jokes and/or comment. If you see one or two black people in mostly-white room, please don’t put them in that position. And if someone else does, be willing to speak up and align yourself against the awkwardness. The same goes for social media exchanges.

If you interact with a black person, don’t point out the differing skin tones. Again, they can tell you aren’t of the same race all by themselves. Treat them as a person versus a skin color. Kindness and authentic respect is what transcends differences and puts people at ease.

Don’t let the devil tell you that you have no right to be angry just because you’re white. Of course you should be angry. This is a human story, not a story contained in black skin. Your ethnic background does not cheapen your lament. Your anger is well-placed, valid and necessary.

Black people need your voice, and we need your involvement. Traumatized people do not make the best advocates. Traumatized people—no matter where the trauma comes from—are angry, shut down, and often counterproductive. As long as you leave it up to black people to speak out, you are making unreasonable demands of the group you want to help. Speak up, dear white friends. Step up and speak up. We don’t need you to share our trauma, we need you to stand against what perpetuates the pain.

You can’t crawl into a black person’s skin in order to understand what is going on. You couldn’t possibly know what it is like, and if you could for a moment, it would shut you down. I promise. You must address, understand and process this issue from your lens, your white skin, and your unique perspective.

If you want to help, aspire to becoming the white person who gives other white people a touch-point to their own racialized angst. Be a bridge which helps other white people engage without shutting down or blaming the victims.

Ask yourself what you are called to do. That will look different for everyone. Every bit counts. Just don’t disengage and leave it to the people who are being harmed.  We can all do something, as this is our nation.

If you’ve been guilty of any and/or all of the hardships I’ve mentioned, remember you didn’t know what you didn’t know. I know you didn’t mean it—that goes without saying. The only thing we can do is be truthful, be gracious, learn from our circumstances, and move forward. Like Maya Angelou said, “when you know better, you do better.”

You are a good person. Just be yourself, because sincerity goes a long way. Awkwardness and missteps can be forgiven—trust me, black people are used to it. Your genuine compassion and concern are what matter. And your sincere engagement matters even more.

Dear White Friends. I love you. You are my brothers, sisters, best friends, teachers, cousins, nieces, and nephews. You and I belong to one another. Keep being the people who may not understand, but who remain good, decent, and compassionate human beings. Embrace change, and if you want to help, start by taking hold of your own cup—it is plenty bitter enough.

And yes. If this has helped you, please pass it on, using [the link in the comments.]

Sincerely yours, Karla Johnson

#spiritual direction #spiritual director #spiritual #spirituality #dear white people #blacklivesmatter #social justice #social activism #activist #white privilege #accountability #open letter #justice #community #education #educateyourself #antiracist #mental health #social change #healing

[tigpooh67]

New interview from Pedro.    Did my best to translate to English.

Enjoy!!

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

Looks like Pedro Pascal is in every possible universe. Here and there. In the past, in the present and in galaxies far, far away. Today, the actor is considered the great benchmark of entertainment and one of those in charge of saving a franchise that seemed lost. Sufficient reasons to talk exclusively about discipline, gastronomy, creeds and how he swallowed his dad in 30 seconds.

 The SAR defines 'creed' as the set of ideas, principles or convictions of a person or group. For example, by creed, one can leave his country and be in exile. It just so happens that one can leave the loved one behind. Or simply live in another reality. And you can also put on a helmet to pretend never to take it off again. If that is the way to go, the creed says that it must be done with the profession of faith and without stopping to look. As he turned the pages of the script for The Mandalorian, the Disney+ series that revived passion and nostalgia for the Star Wars franchise, Pedro Pascal came across this definition in every dialogue and moment, and reflection worked his way.

It has been more than two decades since the Chilean-American Pedro Pascal began his acting career and today, named as the great benchmark of 2020, misses the theater and still hurts him not to have the discipline to exercise and maintain a healthy diet while recognizing the ironic of having the best year of his career in the midst of one of the worst in recent history. But even in physical solitude, the man who carried Christmas's best-selling baby rescues many positive things and shares the vision of the universes he has traveled through, his passion for distant galaxies, and how to traumatify your family with a simple TV scene. In interview, the Mandalorian of Latin America.

 IMDB named you the 2020 benchmark in entertainment, a year in which the world took refuge in fiction. What was it like to live your best time locked up and what do you rescue on a human level from him?

The strength of family relationships and friendship. For them, we endure this physical loneliness. I find it ironic that in 2020 I received projects so well received by the public, although they were carried out before the pandemic and their impact was during this one, and that year I was isolated and alone. But I must stress that loneliness is a privilege when many people had to keep working, surviving and maintaining the functioning of the world. We just had to be alone, but they had more than that and you have to value it too.

 Among the activities you've lost, how much do you miss the theater?

A lot, really. It's something I miss most and being with people without feeling afraid. See a play and return to those experiences of being with people doing and living things in common. That's what I need most, besides my loved ones.

 Disney went into streaming and its strong card has your face, what do you think of the discussion of platforms against movie theaters?

In streaming there are amazing things and many people develop great projects that they didn't access before. The diversity of voices is taking its way and it is important to recognize that opportunities grow exponentially and limits change. It's amazing how much availability we have to very well-made content and how creative people can share their work in different ways. But I also want to be honest: limiting the experience of viewing content only on our gadgets or at home is a mistake that affects the stories we can tell. A mix of opportunities and challenges must be achieved.

Leaps between the fictional universes that mark the last decades until they reach the universe of universes. What is your first Star Wars memory and how do you sum up the essence of this legendary story?

For me, Star Wars is nostalgia itself. It's one of the primary things in my memory, of my childhood. I came to the United States with my Chilean family when I was under two years old and one of my first memories is going to the movies with my dad to see the saga; it becomes one of those romantic things about childhood, that open your mind, so imagine how special it is to participate in this project. I think the creators of The Mandalorian fully understand this nostalgia and power, and they managed to count on that element as a great ally for the Star Wars world and I can't be happier to be a part of it. (Of which we look forward to the third season The Mandalorian)

 The Mandalorian exploits the power and nuances of your voice, did you have that letter on your resume?

I didn't know I could do it, but I resorted to my theatrical preparation, which was very physical at all levels and feelings. There are elements that have to do with creating a role, and they teach you that voice is a primary thing, something you have to start with and can't hide. Now I've learned a lot more about the importance of that, and how to use it with economics. The body also has to do with it, because something very subtle communicates something. At The Mandalorian, I had a great time figuring out how to do it, they gave me the opportunity to develop it in different ways. The opportunity to be very intense in it.

 What about the ego when someone works under a suit and mask?

In the conversations about the project, before doing so, we were informed of the idea and concept of the whole season, so I clearly understood what it was. I wanted it to be the most powerful version of what they were trying to accomplish, so it didn't make sense for me to involve my ego, you know? It was already very clear what the project meant, so I knew about the character, the piece he represented for himself and the opportunity it was for me, so I was just focused on better executing the part that touched me in all this. In the theater, I worked several times under a mask and it helped me develop the experience.

It seems that The Mandalorian has a very theatrical base...

Exactly, and thanks to the physical experience of working in theater, making a play a few times a week, discovering how your body and your voice communicate, being part of an entire image, and how you will tell that story visually, I achieved this character. I never imagined it would be something I would have to use in such an important Star Wars project.

 On the list of entertainment greats, there are names like Steven Spielberg and George Lucas, do you think John Favreau's should be added to the list?

I think his name is already included. Without a doubt, it's in that category and it's amazing. I'm fascinated by his vision. I remember a chapter in the second season, and I had some boots and I walked so much in the snow, that it stuck to them. He noticed, so he talked to the art department about the kind of boots you need when you're in the snow. They came up to me and gave me some new ones that fulfilled the idea I was looking for. He noticed it in an instant. It is such a wonderful detail and is repeated at scale in every session with it. Think of absolutely everything and your vision of using technology is admirable. He's someone who makes you feel motivated and always sees how to achieve the goal.

 One of the reflections of the series is on how and under what circumstances a man can break his creed and the way he lives. What makes you break up with your beliefs?

I think you must follow your heart so as not to repent of anything; even if it sometimes brings pain or conflict, deep down when you go back, it's all worth it because it's what you heard in your heart. I'm very afraid to deny that feeling or not to take care of it. Now I'm 45 years old and I can't believe I have a finer philosophy. Make him more disciplined. It's ridiculous, but I'm trying to accept that I am and that's all I can say, "Follow your heart." Although, you know, I still don't follow a good diet, I still have trouble sleeping or exercising.

 Are you still good at Chilean empanadas?

Yes, I couldn't stop. And also how good that I don't live in Mexico City because I would only spend it eating. I could move my whole life to the defe just to eat.

 I want to deviate and ask you, who did you see the chapter of your death in Game of Thrones and what trauma did you cause to your family?

For me, no trauma. I separate myself well from the characters, although I fully understand that if I were a Game of Thrones audience and loved that character, it would make an incredible impression on me. Thank you, it wasn't. I had to interpret it and there was a model of my head to be crushed that way with the tubes and the fake blood, you know? I lay there, with pieces of my flesh, it was funny in the end. But not for my family. There's nothing funny about them and it's traumatic. My dad totally changed his voice when we saw the episode, turned around and said, "I didn't like it, Pedro. No, Pedro, not this."

 The media found similarities between your villain in Wonder Woman: 1984 and Donald Trump. When you play a character with characteristics like that, do you humanize or understand it?

The project had nothing to do with the former president. I was always told that my character in Wonder Woman:1984 was emotionally messy, and I took that and took it as far away as possible. Instead of creating it with images or certain inspirations from life, it was more working with what was on the page. Personally, what made sense to me is the size of the story being told and there's always more, and we all want more. Creatively, if this makes sense, that meant "flying it out of the park." Connect a hit with the character and be committed to telling their story faithfully, in a way that was true to me. So all the exterior elements found their way.

 What way to start 2021 with the theme of the Capitol... how do you perceive that moment?

I am not a politician and it is not that I have no opinion on such events; However, there is no need to express the obvious. My opinion would be very simple compared to that of a person who studied this, who knows how to act in these kinds of scenarios; I think I'm next to the majority who lived this, which is the logical result of what we've been through over the years and we're all horrified. It was distressing to see this violence.

 If you had the monolith in your hands, what would be your wish?

My wish would be... it's impossible, the truth (laughs). I think it's being together again, with less fear and people having a chance to connect.

 What is your position of the reality that Chile has experienced in recent years and how has the relationship with your country been since exile?

It's something I'm developing and I keep doing it in my life, trying to understand that it's my home. Being in Chile is being at home, but my life has been very nomadic, living different things and having many influences; so it's strange, I don't feel the title of a full Chilean identity or an American.

 Neither from here nor there?

In a sense, but I'm also completely both. My parents are Chileans, my brothers were born there before my parents traveled, and I returned sometimes because my family is so big; in fact, my parents came back. It's always been there, it's still developing, and it's going to be a part of me. I don't know if I answer your question, but it has a lot to do with who I am.

 What is your relationship with Latin American cinema? Interested in you?

A lot, it's invaded me in life like American cinema. The movies I have in my heart, seeing something like And your mom was also something that changed me; I also love the work that comes out of Chile, and all I can say is that it is a cinema that needs more access and projects.

You got a comedy with Nicolas Cage on your doorstep today, can you tell me something?

It's my first chance at comedy, as a complete story within the genre. Speaking of American influences, in the 1980s I saw all the films where Nicolas Cage was coming out, he came into my life and it's great to be his partner after seeing all his performances.

 What's your relationship with the comedy genre like?

I love it, I've done a lot of comedy in the theater, what happens is that in film and television themes, I was always part of drama castings. And in the cinema, you go where the doors open; although I identify with one or the other, I think being an actor, you go and do what you have to do. Comedy is something unique, it's very challenging because it has to be very real to make it funny, you can't hide or use normal tricks. I was very excited to have this challenge in front of a camera.

 Finally, Pedro, after going through so many fictional worlds, literally, what do you dream of when you sleep?

I dream that my bathroom is dirty, that I haven't done my math homework, that the oven and all that stuff are on. Of course, there are times when I close my eyes and see myself in all these projects, although my conscience is with the anxieties of the day you can imagine.

#pedropascal #the mandalorian #games of thrones #the mentalist #dave york #the good wife #Equalizer 2

[telesthisia]

HANDY DANDY RP PLOTTING CHEAT-SHEET FOR PRINCESS ZELDA (A Link to the Past)!

Want new-and-exciting plots for your character? Long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? Fear not! Fill out this form and give your RP partners both present and future all the of juicy jumping off points they need to help you get your characters acquainted.

Be sure to tag the players whose characters YOU want more cues to interact with, and repost, don’t reblog! Feel free to add or remove sections as you see fit. Template here.

mun name: Amber!!  ooc contact: My DMs are always open for mutuals and non-mutuals alike (I think at least, if not don’t be afraid to send in asks either I try my best to get to them ;v;)! I do have a personal blog but weeps.... me no longer active on there. And a twitter but weeps once again, it’s an oc twitter despite my yellings of off topic things. MY DISCORD TOO!! Though my activity is very inconsistent somedays I’ll be on others not so much! Don’t be afraid to ask for that uvu 

who the heck is my muse anyway?

HOHO!!! For those who never touched The Legend of Zelda in their lives, I’m sure it’s pretty dang confusing to see more than one design of both Zelda and Link, I’ll try my best to explain this! The series follows a very, very convoluted timeline filled with plotholes, as such the Links and Zeldas we see throughout different titles of the game are actually reincarnations who are destined to seal away whatever darkness may threaten the lands known as Hyrule.

The Zelda I play as is the princess of Hyrule during a point in the timeline known as “Downfall Era” where the Hero of Time in OOT lost against Ganondorf in the final battle; Ocarina of Time is the reason for why there’s multiple timelines with each having their unique era depending on the choices in that game. The Downfall Era is known for having games known as A Link to The Past, Oracle of Seasons, Oracle of Time, Link’s Awakening, A Link Between Worlds, Triforce Heroes, The OG Legend of Zelda, Annnnd Adventure of Link! The Zelda I play as comes from A Link to The Past as well as the Oracle series and I guess Link’s Awakening despite having no appearance. The events of A Link to The Past and Oracle Series has deeply affected my Zellie in that she suffers from unspoken traumas as well depression. See, before the events of ALTTP there was a war known as the Imprisoning War, that war ended where the seven sages seal away Ganon. Peace reigned for a while until a series of plagues and droughts struck which affected the kingdom. It wasn’t until the antagonist of the game, a wizard by the name of Agahnim, would put an end to the misfortunate blighting Hyrule with his magic, gaining favor with the king. He was able to worm his way into court and from there act on his plans in breaking the seal to the sacred realm where the triforce and Ganon rest. Doing so, he must capture the seven maidens who are descendants of the seven sages and sacrifice them in order to break the seal and well, guess which princess happens to be one of those seven maidens? Suffice to say, he was successful in breaking the seal with Zelda being the final sacrifice. Here we find out that he’s actual the alter ego of Ganon (don’t question it too hard) and we also find out she’s not dead! Hooray! But she is trapped in a plane known as The Dark World, once the sacred realm corrupted by Ganon’s greed. So as all LOZ stories goes, Link saves the day. Happily ever after, right? Well... no, see unlike in the game where the ending is happy and everyone who died is alive I follow both the 90s comics and Himekawa manga where those who died in the games did not come back to life. This includes Zelda’s father, Link’s uncle and some of the maidens. It’s very bittersweet in that, the day is saved and Ganon is gone forever but at the cost of loved ones no longer coming back. 

Well... Ganon comes back! In the oracle series! Two years after ALTTP, Twinrova tries to resurrect him by using the blood and body of Princess Zelda, meaning she can actually die this time around. But Link saves the day once again. Which leads us today, the main verse of the blog which is a year after Oracles and three years after ALTTP! NOTE: That my smash verse more or less follows this timeline I have in place for this blog. 

things you should know

I sound like a broken record but. She’s a glass canon of sorts. Where she’s very powerful thanks to blood of the seven sages, the light force, and having hylia’s blood in her veins. As such, she’s very powerful and her magic super potent which is why so many people wanna sacrifice for dark rituals... BUT!! She has super power health issues that affects her magical stamina and body as such she can’t even use half her powerful magic and this upsets her greatly. It’s a small headcanon of mine because in the games and manga, she doesn’t really do much despite being a powerful magical princess. Keep in mind that ALTTP came out before the retcon that is Skyward Sword and before they decided to add more to Zelda’s abilities throughout the course of the series... so my brain went to: she’s powerful but can’t use magic too much due to poor health. It worked!! Before smash came along but I swear I’m not at all salty. To be fair, it was my fault for assuming things but imagine: glass canon Zelda. It sounded super cool at the time! 

She represses a lot if only for the sake of her nation and to appear as a good leader for her people. As such, she’s almost always calm and has a gentle smile on her face despite radio static sounds resounding in her thoughts. Give her time, she’ll open up and show you her playful side! 

She’s been surrounded by death considering before ALTTP, during ALTTP and kinda with Oracles if you count Twinrova, as well as having a connection with the spirit realm due to freaky PSI powers. So, she doesn’t really have a negative view on death and has actually gained that edgy romanticist view as the result of her life experiences. She’s very much someone who likes to live life to her fullest as the result... and well, it doesn’t help that she’s aware of her short life span thanks to her future vision. Something she won’t reveal to anyone more than likely as to not worry them. She’s more or less accepted her fate... speaking of which

She hates fate/destiny/etc but accepts whatever happens because again clairvoyance has proven that there’s no changing what’s been planned. So, she doesn’t bother fighting against it. But, what impresses her are those who manage to overcome destiny, something that Link does sometimes which is why she looks up to him. He’s that variable that the future can’t keep track of due to how ever changing he is. 

 She loves exploring creepy places, ruins, caves, and dungeons that are scattered throughout her kingdom, for both history and the spooky aesthetics of it! So if you see her outside the castle she’s more than likely getting ready to explore some spooky place. She’s almost always wearing her cloak but there are rare moments where she’s not either ;v; she’ll always go by the name Elle... worth mention she doesn’t bother hiding the mark of the triforce on her right hand.

Speaking of which, only people from the capital known as Castle Town and even some from Kakariko village as well know of the princess’ appearance. Various small towns throughout the land of Hyrule however, only remember her appearance from ALTTP where her hair was a more golden blonde rather than the platinum color that it’s taken from the various fear and stresses from her life. And also, she’s more freckly due to not wearing coverup when outside the castle. Ok well,,,,, here’s the best side by side comparison I have...

If you ask her what the light arrows are, she’ll look at you funny. She comes from a time where silver arrows are a thing :’) the few things that can defeat Ganon

Closet romantic, as in she loves love and wishes for a romance of her own but when it comes to her own feelings she’s an idiot due to repressing feelings.

what she’s been up to:

main verse: Which is during the events of Skyward Sword, as such she’s no longer in Skyloft nor does she have the full knowledge that she’s Hylia but Zelda is suspecting that there’s a connection there. She does not know how to wield her magic as it comes and goes in spurts. She’s seen throughout the Surface so she can be anywhere! Even in other timelines due to using the Gate of Time, we can just say that something screwed up causing for her to end up in another time period or even verse! LOZ series is pretty flexible in time travel.

where to find her:

Graveyard + Sanctuary: It’s a soothing place to visit and also to pay respects to the fallen in ALTTP. 

One of the three provinces (my rendition of Hyrule is a little bigger than the in game map so don’t be afraid to add places that aren’t in ALTTP but in other titles, I know I tend to do): aka anywhere in the fields, she’s a woman plagued with wanderlust and doesn’t like being confined to one place

Kakariko: the villagers who know her true identity are hella nice to pretend that it’s not the princess but Elle! Guards tend to be here after a certain time though, so to avoid them she always avoids going to the village when it’s nearly sundown

Ruins, catacombs, abandon shrines etc: again she likes creepy or historical places or both! 

Haunted Grove: Well... it’s haunted! So :’)

Castle: it’s possible to meet her here too! Whether as princess or someone sneaking either out of the castle or back into it. 

current plans:

Lead her kingdom to the Golden Age, something her father tried to do before his demise. While wishing to see Link once more. 

desired interactions:

I would love the usual adventure threads!!! 

FRIENDSHIP!! She needs friends, pls!! 

ENEMIES!! It’d be fun to write a more angry Zel who doesn’t get along with someone! 

ROMANCE!! I’m a sucker for cuteness ;v; and slow burn ;v; 

HORROR AU!! HORROR AU!!! 

Creepy gothic threads of Zelda running into a creepy cryptid in a gothic castle on a stormy night.... this is very specific but listen, cries... 

Comfort thread ;v; 

things that bother me:

People who know she’s the princess right off the bat ticks me off ngl. A-ok if you muse is unaware of her otherwise! 

PEOPLE WHO KNOW THAT SHE’S FROM A BLOODLINE OF A GODDESS AND SAGES DHSJAKJADB no one really knows that the royal family actually did descend from gods, unless your muse is an immortal and is aware of the events that goes on they shouldn’t know this fact. The only thing the public is aware of is how the royal family have mystical powers different from the population. 

uhhhh that’s about it? Mostly metagaming pft, not too much bothers me now that I think about. 

tagged by: i pirated it ;v; from myself! 

tagging: whomst ever! i recommend doing this since it’ll help a ton with those who still are unsure with your muse but feel too nervous to ask questions.

#dash games. #ah yes.... where amber spews a bunch of words #i will add to this but eyyyy partners check it out if you wanna know some things #anyway uhhh writings coming out soon uvu

[havntednlost]

The main problem: my mother.

Her and my social life.

She's my fucking hell. Since I was born. She never allowed me to do anything along with my father (that was waaaaaay more possessive and jealous when I was a child while now with my little sister he's all like "do whatever you want it's fine").

She never respected my privacy. My spaces. My decisions. My opinions. I wasn't allowed to have an opinion. I wasn't allowed to speak when she decided something. I wasn't allowed to choose my friends. I wasn't allowed to speak to some people I defined friends because they weren't okay for her. She'd always decided who I had to talk to and how I had to behave. She always shushed me when I wanted to say something that she thought could've been against her decision. I grew up with her ideas, with her ways of talking and acting. She was manipulating me, creating a copy of her. She wanted to see her in me. (You failed. Ops?🤭) And I was always alone. I never had friends. The only friends I could make were people with disabilities. Because others couldn't stand me. Others hated me or made fun of me. Since I was 6 (elementary school) to being 10 I only talked to people who had difficulties at school or were handicapped. I felt like they didn't judge me. And I felt like they were okay with me being their friend.

What does not having friends has to do with my mother?

Well easy: my social life was in her hands. And that's why I never had anyone by my side. Because no one was okay for her. Only one or maybe two people. And I never complained about it. Because she made me grow up like that. I had to shut up and just do what she said. In my childhood I remember disobeying just a couple of times to my mother. Consequences? Being hit. She slapped me in the face so hard she made me cry. Once she slapped me in front of my classmates in that way. My teacher told her it wasn't necessary and mum just used a polite way to say "fuck you I am her mother and I decide how she has to grow up". My teacher had to shut up while he was caressing me and making me calm down. In that moment I forgot I was in class. I must remember being in my teacher's arms and feeling safe, far from my mum's hands. I was 8 if I'm not wrong.

So, elementary school ended. Middle school started. First year. Me, still with the mentality of a child. Naive. Too innocent and silly to understand the world I was going to face. Middle school was the worst period of my life. I've been bullied all the three years.

First year: Afraid. Always defensive. But willing to be a perfect student just as I was at the previous school. It was just me and other four girls (way smarter than me because they didn't live like they were perfect dolls to keep in a house-cage) and then 15 boys. One of them had a crush on me. I rejected him. I got no will to talk about that embarrassing story. After that also this boy + all the girls made fun of me and bullied me and called me names like: horse, camel, annoying, stupid and stuff like that. I was absolutely not used to being talked to like that, consequently it was one of the first traumas I've experienced in first person, without having my mother "by my side" "to dEfENd me". First year ends and I made no friends.

My parents decide to move to another city. Caserta. Close to Naples. I spent two years there. It was a fucking hell. People there were like... the plastics of mean girls. We were 10 girls and 13 boys. Way better, I thought. Ugh, I was wrong. Boys were terrible, worse than the ones at the other school and girls? Damn, they were all Regina George. It was when my depression symptoms started, along with anxiety. They talked at my back, saying bad stuff about me. How I found out? My mother was going through my chats (without me knowing, of course) and she called me to tell me. I read the group chat. They started saying "Is Maria in this group? No? Are you sure? Yes". So after establishing that I wasn't there they started saying things like: Oh luckily she isn't. She's so annoying. Why the fuck did she came to our school? Couldn't she stay at her old one? She's so ugly and stupid. No one can stand her. No one wants her. And she thinks we're her friends! 😂😂😂 She thinks she's better than us! (totally untrue) She's no one. etc...

Now imagine me crying while reading everything because I didn't expect it.

My mother: Didn't you expect all of this? It was obvious.

Well sorry if I was too stupid because I grew up thinking people were good and I would've faced a world full of roses and love.

I just told her I didn't. Your fault, darling.

Day after. My mother goes to school and talks to my teacher about it. My teacher defends me and helps me with that and the thing is solved. But my classmates just hate me more and more. And they just keep bullying me but more subtly so that no one notices. But I was a bit smarter because I had my cousin (I will dedicate another post to this special person ❤️) that was helping me to go through all the shit and giving me advice.

Middle school ends.

I am not homophobic anymore (like my parents taught me to be). I start having doubts about my sexuality but ignore them. My depression gets worse and worse.

My mother gets worse and worse. Starting to prefer my two brothers and little sister over me for everything. I was needed just to clean the house and to be yelled at for wearing always black, being unsocial, always staying on my own in the dark, always with my phone, always listening to music, always being sad or angry, never smiling, staying up after 10pm for watching TV series or reading, not studying much etc...

(Want a hint my dear mother? I was/am depressed.)

In this period I start having suicidal thoughts. Still because of my parents. My cousin supporting me and telling me is silly and that there are other options.

We move back to Naples.

I am now 14.

Highschool starts. First year is shit because I get bullied again but I start making friends. A group of 7 people (me included). My mother says they're okay. Fucking finally.

Alessia, Gabriella, Chiara, Simona, Sara, Andreea (romanian). Fucking amazing friends. Disgustingly amazing.

My grades are low. My parents keep hating on me and yelling at me for that. But my friends support me.

In the meanwhile I get to know a girl on the Internet. We become close friends and that develops in feelings. We start a relationship. Let's be clear. It wasn't. It was just based on the fact that we had the same problems and she gave me a lot of affection, and I thought it was love.

One day my mother takes my phone, again, without me knowing, and reads all of my chats.

She finds out about this girl. I was terrified and so I confess. My first coming out. She says nothing. She goes to my dad and tells him. My dad yells "Go away! Go away from my sight!" and I go to the kitchen terrified. Crying and sobbing. We sit. Me, my mother and my dad. They start talking to me. A sum up:

I don't remember how my mother started talking. I removed it because it was traumatic, all I remember is her saying shit about that poor girl.

I say "Mum, what's wrong with gays? They're just like us"

Mum slaps me. Hard as fuck. I was shook. Scared. Hurt. Confused.

After that they start talking about how wrong is being gay, that God doesn't accept it, that it's not natural, that it's just a phase, that only animals have gay sex and that's why we humans are different from animals that must follow their instincts. They keep repeating the same things in different ways for 3 hours. I am not kidding. 3 hours. From 3pm to 6:30pm only talking about this. (Want to know what I've done all this time? I just nodded. I kept on nodding because I was afraid to talk.)

Mum deletes and blocks every number and friends from Internet and takes my SIM card and puts it in her phone so she can check all my chats from her phone. She throws my phone away breaking it.

Nighttime: No sleep. Everytime I fell asleep I had nightmares so I woke up. Sobbing. Crying. I can't fucking breathe. A fucking hell.

Morning: I wake up totally empty and with a dead face. My parents are in the kitchen. They warmly say "good morning" and ask me to sit. I sit on the couch. They ask me "how are you". My answer: HOW AM I?? HOW AM I YOU FUCKER?????!!!!! YOU'RE REALLY ASKING ME HOW ARE YOU WITH THIS NONCHALANCE???? FUCKING KILL YOURSELF. My actual answer:.... i'm tired.

I don't remember anything else after that. Trauma I guess.

I am not a psychologist but I'm pretty sure I'm fucked up.

So after this happens I tell everything to my cousin. She doesn't believe that. She actually doesn't. She was too shocked to believe it. Haha, same sis. I don't either.

So, it takes a while for her to process everything and that's when our friendship starts for real. (We were good friends since I was 12. We grew up together, but there has never been an actual friendship because of how I was as a child. A pretty horrible child.) She starts helping me with my mother and all the stuff. We start getting closer and closer as time goes by and as my mother keeps being a bitch.

Second year of highschool.

My fucking favourite. It was such a good time. My grades weren't the best, my depression was fucking me up more than ever, my anxiety was kicking me out, but.. I had my friends. With a new entry. Simona. Yeah another one. Alessia changes school. So it's still 7 of us.

I swear if it wasn't for my friends that year and my cousin. I would've killed myself. Going back home from school everyday was basically going back to hell every fucking day.

dude: go to hell

me: awww where do you think i came from honey?

Then... that summer comes. Summer 2018.

I argue with my friends because of my parents, giving them the fault of everything. I keep them away from me. My mother gets even worse. She's against me like I am her enemy. She yells at me for everything. Every single thing.

me: *wakes up*

mother: WHY DID YOU WAKE UP GO BACK TO SLEEP AND SLEEP PROPERLY LIKE A LADY YOU'RE DISGUSTING.

She separates me from my cousin because she talked back at her (after she said bad things about my cousin's mother at her face) and here, another trauma. She calls me whore, liar, bitch because I didn't defend her like my cousin did with her mother (sorry but i hate you bitch). She says it's all my fault because I told my cousin everything about the bad things she did to me. That day goes away and my mother calms down and says it's not my fault but my cousin's because she's a bitch. I have no chance to talk to her for a month then we finally meet when my mother isn't at home. Since then we talk without no one of my family knowing. (It will be 3 years this summer, she never knew we do. How stupid can she be thinking I wouldn't talk to my favourite person ever because she said so).

September comes. Back to school. Third year. No friends. Low grades. No will to study. No will to live. But my cousin has my back. She keeps me alive, in fact I tried to kill myself multiple times. I failed. (Now I'm happy I didn't.) I pass that year. Not after another trauma. I seek for help at school. My teacher tells my mother about it and tells her that I am bisexual, atheist and I'm not okay in my family.

Thanks for ruining me, teacher. I expressively told her not to talk about it with my mother buuuut okay.

Quick sum up: I come back from school, my mother is crying. She starts saying things like "You don't want me as a mother? You don't like me? You hate me?" and I said no (not knowing that she knew what I said at school). Then the evening she walks to me and sits near me.

"Tell me the truth"

I was obviously confused. So she confesses what she knows. I was expecting the worst. It ended up with me talking to my uncles because my mother was "tOo hUrt" to talk to me.

"It's just a phase." "I hated my parents too." "You're too young to say these things." "You can't say you're bisexual if you never experienced anything."

It ended up with me faking a hug and "I'm sorry mum, I exaggerated." (obviously it was just to make everything stop).

bonus

me: *wants help to fight a difficult situation*

mum: *gets to know about it* YOU HURT ME YOU UNGRATEFUL BITCH.

also mum: *reproaches it to my face everytime she's mad at me*

Fourth year starts. This is my year. This year. 2019/2020. It started perfectly. Good grades, my friends are back.

We move again. Tivoli (Rome). I am fucking happy with that. Expect for the fact that I can't meet my cousin anymore. But of course we can chat. Secretly on Telegram. Because my mother doesn't know what it is. Also, she stopped checking my phone, finally.

So, now. I'm 17, fourth year of highschool. Here I have no friends because they all suck. I miss my friends from Naples. And I wish I was free from my parents.

Some parts are not detailed. This because I will dedicate to them other posts otherwise this one would've been waaaaaay longer. And it's already too long.

No one will read these long posts but in case you're doing it, thank you ❤.

#my mother is satan #i hate my mother #my parents are crazy #fuck my parents #fuck my family #depression #anxiety #no social life #i have no social life #i have no friends #it's all my mothers fault

[dancingsparks]

Harry Potter and the Secret Boyfriend

thank you at my wonderful beta reader @pandajelley​

Also on Ao3

“-thereby rendering Aithea’s third rule inconsequential. Nevertheless, the formation cannot, as Doromius postulates and subsequently ascertains in a sequence of dissection and speculation, be quantified in something as mundane-“

Ron gives up; the book has defeated him. Seven years fighting against dark wizards, evil professors and slimy classmates, only to fail at his transfiguration essay. Well, it’s not shocking. Honestly, he tried. He read the chapter, read it multiple times,. It is impossible to understand. The sentences are too long, twisted ,and convoluted, with no structure to speak of. Ron is sure whoever wrote that monstrosity of a book didn’t actually want anybody to learn anything and instead break into tears; though he can think of a person stubborn and smart enough to have worked it out. 

A quick glance up confirms that, yes, Hermione is steadily writing. Her hair has somehow freed itself from her braid, falling into her face and forcing her to swat it away in annoyance. She has ink on her face and fingers, having yet again forgotten to mind the drying ink. She often complains about the antiquated methods, listing Muggle inventions and explaining how they would make her life easier.

Ron smiles fondly, watching her cross-reference and plan out her essay. He could watch her like this forever.

A sudden movement at his left catches his attention, causing him to look away from Hermione. Harry is standing, shoving his things into his bag. Ron frowns. He understands why Harry might want to leave. Studying sessions in the library are rarely fun and Ron, too, often wants to end them early. Still, to just get up and go, not even half way through and on his own, is rather rude.

Now that he thinks about it, Harry has been weird in general lately, sneaking around and keeping secrets.

Ron thought it was about the war, that this is how Harry is dealing with the trauma. Hermione assured him this was natural, that Harry would need space, time to figure things out. So Ron gave him space, prepared to do whatever he could whenever Harry was ready. And he seems fine, slowly getting better in fact.

Ron doesn’t know anymore what his best friend does half of the time, though, and that worries him.

“Leaving already, mate?”

Harry gives him a guilty look. He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he has taken up lately, shrugs and casts a quick glance to somewhere behind Ron. He is sorely tempted to look, to see what holds his friend’s attention. “Yeah, I am meeting someone … ehm, see I promised … I promised I would help! Yes, I promised I would help with … this thing for…”

Ron watches amused as Harry rambles on, trying frantically and failing spectacularly to come up with a believable excuse. Too bad for him that, one, he is terrible at lying and two, Ron knows him too well to fall for it anyway. Still, it is amusing to watch.

“Harry stop, it’s fine. I mean you are obviously lying and I wish you wouldn’t, but you don’t have to tell me. I won’t ask if you want to keep them a secret. Just leave before Hermione is done with her essay; you know what she thinks about cutting study sessions short.”

Harry looks relieved at his words. Honestly, Ron is slightly offended that his friend thought he would press for answers when he so obviously doesn’t want to give them.

“Thanks, I owe you one.” With a grateful nod and a glance at Hermione, obliviously editing her essay, Harry grabs his bag and heads deeper into the library . Ron turns around; curious and hoping to get a look at whomever it is that Harry is willing to spend the sunny afternoon inside a stuffy room for. The weather has been awful these past weeks, cold and rainy. Only today is the sun finally shining once again. Hermione didn’t have an easy time convincing them to stay inside and do their assignments. Ron isn’t clear on how she did it, but here they are.

Ron would be satisfied with only a glance of the mystery person, but no such luck.

It doesn’t matter, Harry will tell him when and if he wants to, and until then Ron just has to keep a close eye on him. He is sure he will know what’s going on soon enough, Harry isn’t very subtle. And Ron can’t help wanting to know, he is only human after all.

For now he goes back to trying to get some information from this impossible book. Or he could continue to watch Hermione. Maybe he could convince her to take things outside; the sun would do her some good.

Ron is content. He is warm, sitting in front of the fireplace, Hermione cuddled up against him and idly playing with his hand, telling him about her day. Granted, the hair in his face is something he still isn’t used to, but it is a small price to pay to have her this close.

“Ron, are you even listening?” He hums, too lazy for actual words and presses a kiss on her hair. That seems to be enough of an answer for her, because she starts talking again. The 8th year common room is humming gently with conversation, lulling him in with warmth.

“Harry, where do you think you are going?” Ron opens his eyes again, woken from his doze. Harry wears his Quidditch gear, is wrapped in a scarf and carries his broom on his shoulder. Really, it’s obvious where he is going and her disapproving tone shows Hermione knows it. Harry either doesn’t notice her frown or doesn’t care.

“I’m going flying, Hermione. I thought it would be quite clear, given the broom and the gear.” He’s grinning, more excited than Ron has seen in a long time. Harry is practically radiating happiness.

Ron is very sure by now; he must be dating someone. He daydreams, sneaks off and is smiling more often than not. Ron is happy for him, he is, he only wishes Harry would look less like a lovesick puppy all the time now. But he suffers through it, silent and pretending not to know. It’s clear Harry doesn’t want to share yet, which hurts, but Ron supposes he has good reasons. Or what he thinks are good reasons at least. Harry can be quite stupid when it comes to support and friendship. Ron could punch those horrible Muggles he grew up with for planting these insecurities in him. Or maybe just rub it in their faces that Harry is happy, despite what they did to him. And Harry’s happiness is the most important thing right now - well, among the most important things anyway.

“I really don’t think this is a good idea. It’s late and dark, why would you even want to?” Ron chuckles fondly, Hermione is always overprotective.

“Let him go ‘Mione. If he wants to break his neck, flying in the dark, that’s his choice.” He pulls her even closer, thinking the discussion over and wanting to find his way back to that peaceful sleepiness he had been in. Hermione has different plans though.

“Ronald! I don’t think this is very funny! Harry would risk serious injury and for what? To have more space because he would be flying alone? No, I bet he has better things to do anyway.” This time Ron sighs. Hermione is brilliant, brightest witch of their age, but people are not one of her strengths. He abruptly realises Hermione doesn’t know Harry won’t be flying alone, hasn’t connected Harry’s happiness and constant mental absence with someone special being on his mind.

It’s somehow nice, and very strange, that Ron has figured something out before Hermione has. He knows he isn’t stupid, but it’s not easy to remember that next to Hermione’s brilliance. This is a nice reminder. Still, it isn’t his secret to share, so he would just have to show off his own intelligence by defeating her at chess tomorrow.

Harry looks pained. Ron can practically see the wheels turning in his head, searching for an argument Hermione will accept. Ron remembers the embarrassing attempt at the library and winces in sympathy. There is no way Harry would come up with a reason Hermione would deem good enough.

“Harry is more than capable of handling himself, Hermione. Let him go, you can lecture him on every essay he forgot tomorrow. You know anything he writes right now would be useless anyway.” Hermione clenches her jaw, obviously unhappy with the situation, but she says nothing.

Harry grins at him, wishes them a nice evening and is out through the door. Hermione grumbles about idiots taking unnecessary risks, but Ron only laughs and burrows his face in her hair, inhaling the smell as he slowly falls back into slumber.

Eating not at the Gryffindor but the 8th year table is still odd but has grown on Ron. In any case, it has helped promote unity, just as McGonagall predicted, after announcing the students returning for their 8th year would be treated as one house of their own. Though they can’t collect points, which Ron doesn’t miss, and can’t participate in the Quidditch-Cup, which Ron does miss. Sure, they assembled their own teams, playing against each other, but just isn’t the same.

It is surprising how much things can change. Only 5 months ago, the table was clearly divided by colours, conversation only in hushed tones and between people of the same house. But now the colours are mixed, people are talking to and over each other, the fact that they all belonged to different houses forgotten.

Ron can hear Neville ranting about some endangered plant to Parkinson, who offers increasingly ridiculous schemes to save it. Goldstein and Hermione are discussing how the newly discovered artefact will affect basically everything, though they are mostly just agreeing with whatever the other said. Goyle is attentively listening to Abbott reciting her grandma’s recipe for apple crumble. Zabini is laughing at some terrible joke Seamus made. Harry is smiling at Malfoy. Macmillan is whispering to –

Harry is smiling at Malfoy? That can’t be right, Ron must have imagined things. But no, another quick glance confirms that his best friend is trying very hard to subtly communicate with Malfoy.

That in and of itself is hardly news. Harry had never been able to leave Malfoy alone, to just ignore the git. Granted, Ron hadn’t been any better, always egging him on, but he liked to think he had matured. But then, maybe Harry had too. Because whatever these two are doing is very different from what they used to do. They are still cutting grimaces at each other, but there is no way to deny that Harry at least is fond, teasing. Ron doesn’t know about Malfoy, but he seems to be responding in kind.

Ron watches them for a while, how they make more and more stupid faces in what must be a weird competition. He can’t be sure if they think themselves subtle or uncaring about someone catching them. Though why they should care if anyone knows they are friends now is beyond him. Unexpected friendships have become rather common place after all.

Suddenly it clicks. Harry is dating Malfoy. All these times he sneaked off he went to Malfoy, when he smiles at nothing in particular he thinks of Malfoy.

Ron must have made some sort of noise, because Hermione asks him if he’s all right, before returning to her discussion. Ron is, in fact, not all right, not all right at all. His best friend is dating Draco bloody Malfoy. No wonder he didn’t tell Ron about it. Malfoy is very much not who Ron had expected. Some nice girl from Hufflepuff, maybe, or even a bloke if Harry preferred that, but Malfoy?

No, it can’t be. It has to be a trick, a scheme, an illegal potion. It’s somehow Malfoy’s fault.

Ron has no idea why the slimy bastard would even want to ensnare Harry but it has to stop! Ron can’t just allow his best friend to fall for Malfoy’s tricks.

On the other hand, it seems very unlikely that the whole thing is a trick. After all, why go to such lengths to trap someone in a relationship if you are not even going to be open about it? If Malfoy wants to use Harry to polish the Malfoy’s tarnished reputation, he would have to tell everyone they are dating. So why keep it a secret?

Also, Ron thinks he would notice if his best friend were to fall victim to a love spell. The symptoms are kind of hard to miss. 

So the only explanation is that Harry is dating Malfoy of his own free will.

Having overcome the initial shock, it isn’t all that surprising. Harry had always been obsessed with Malfoy. Maybe he just isn’t capable of feeling neutrally towards him, always swinging between two extremes. And anyway, Harry is quite obviously happy. Does it really matter who makes him this happy, as long as they keep doing it?

Watching Malfoy pinch his face in a mockery of his familiar sneer almost makes Ron laugh. Maybe he isn’t all bad anymore.

Ron would definitely keep a close eye on him, but he is willing to give Malfoy a chance, for Harry. 

History of magic gets a lot better if you can watch as your best friend very stealthily throws letters at his irritated secret-boyfriend.

Ron didn’t think anyone besides Hermione paid attention to their ancient professor. And yet here Malfoy is, attentively taking notes and glaring at Harry every now and then. Who would have thought that Draco Malfoy is a nerd?

Harry doesn’t seem to mind being either ignored or scowled at though, and continues his attack. Actually, that seems to be half the fun. Ron can’t tell what he writes in his notes, if anything at all, but the wicked grin proves they are mainly supposed to annoy Malfoy. Ron approves.

Apparently bored with simple letters, Harry starts to charm them. At first Ron has no idea where his friend is going with this. They end up weirdly folded, uneven, and Harry always flattens them out again, starts over. Slowly the parchment takes shape, getting better and better with every attempt. Finally Harry charms the letter into an elaborate origami swan. He looks very proud, too.

Honestly, Ron is impressed. That level of precision isn’t something that comes easy to Harry, he must have practiced it.

Satisfied with the result, Harry sends the swan flying over to Malfoy. Ron speculates how nobody has caught these two yet, but is quickly distracted by Malfoy’s reaction. Ron had expected him to ignore that one like all the others before, but Malfoy goes bright red and the scowl he shoots in Harry’s direction lacks that certain something, making it almost fond.

On second thought, Ron doesn’t want to know what Harry has to say to Malfoy. He shudders, tries to not think about either Harry’s pleased smile or Malfoy going beet-red, and instead focuses all his attentions on Hermione, determined to forget everything he just saw.

Ron lets out a triumphant shout as he finally finds ”The evolution of sleeping potions and their acceptance in society”, immediately getting shushed and annoyed looks. Uncaring, he answers with a bright smile, showing the book off as if it were the Quidditch cup. Finding anything in this mess of a library deserves a trophy anyway. And while Hermione was right and knew exactly where to find the book, she gave terrible directions, referencing books Ron had never even heard of as orientation. As expected, they didn’t help at all and it took ages before Ron landed here.

In hindsight, it would’ve been a lot easier if Hermione had just gotten the book herself. But Ron had needed a break, to do something else besides sitting still and listening. Harry, Hermione and he had spent the entire morning studying and his little exercise only reminds him how dearly he needs a real break.

Come to think of it, they all do. Hermione tends to get too caught up in her books and lose all track of time. No matter how often she tells him that study breaks are important for all kinds of reasons, she never takes them on her own, only when Ron reminds her.  

“Harry, are you even listening to a word I’m saying?” Sounds like Harry is ready for a pause too. Ron smiles as he steps behind Hermione, placing the book on the table. Judging her more fondly irritated than angry, Ron deems it safe to wrap his arms around her. “I think we all need a break, love.”

“We can’t Ron, we are finally starting to make some real progress.” Despite her words she leans back into him, already relaxing. Knowing he has convinced her, Ron presses a quick kiss on her head, before he starts opening her messy braid to renew it. Hermione dislikes having her hair hang into her face, says it’s too distracting, but Ron knows she wouldn’t bother with redoing the braid. There are simply more important things to do. He is glad for it though, he likes her hair and enjoys braiding it, after all the effort spent on learning how.

“Or at least we would, if Harry would quit his daydreaming and listen to me. What is so much more important than revising anyway?” What easily could have been a hurtful accusation now lacks all heat, instead holding only a mild curiosity.

Not that Harry seems to have noticed, thoughts still a mile away. He blushes, runs his fingers through his hair and focuses on the table. “Sorry, it wasn’t more important I swear. I was just thinking about, ehm …. Quidditch! Yes, only Quidditch, you wouldn’t be interested.”

Sure, Quidditch. Ron doesn’t believe him, Quidditch does not make Harry blush like this. No, he must have been thinking about Malfoy again. The thought is still weird to him, but the way Harry had been smiling earlier reassures him that he is still happy. Very much so, if one also counts the blushing.

Ron can’t help but tease him about it.

“Quidditch, was it? You sure it isn’t a certain someone that’s on your mind lately?” Unbelievable, but Harry blushes even more. Ron doesn’t even try to suppress his laugh.

“What? No! No, Ron really there’s no one.” Watching Harry fall all over himself to assure Ron that, no, he must be mistaken, is comical. It’s also his own fault; he shouldn’t have teased Ron when he told him about his crush on Hermione. So, in a way, it’s only payback. Ron is looking forward to more teasing, the possibilities are endless, now that he finally knows who Harry’s secret is.

Hermione is doing that thing again, where she drums her fingers on whatever surface is closest when she is really concentrating. It’s strangely flattering that she should do so now. Not that it will help her any, but Ron still enjoys watching her try.

Finally, she commands her Rook to h4, just like Ron knew she would. It’s hard not to smile when triumph is this close, but if he wants to win he needs to be careful.

His painstakingly maintained blank mask is broken by Harry settling down next to him.

“Who’s winning?” Stupid question. Ron of course.

“Harry, are you, I mean, is that a Slytherin tie?” Forgetting all about their game he turns to look at his best friend, noting that yes, he is wearing a Slytherin tie; Malfoy’s probably. Ron doesn’t want to know why they took them off in the first place, but they must have switched them when putting them back on.

“What? No! Of course not -” He looks down, as if to prove it, freezing when he realises that he really, actually, and most definitely has his boyfriend’s tie around his neck. He mumbles something, tries to take it off without anyone else noticing but only succeeds in attracting more attention.

Suddenly everyone is talking while straining to catch a glimpse of Harry and the incriminating tie.

“Whose tie do you think that is?”

“Is it true? Harry Potter is wearing a Slytherin tie?”

“Does that mean he’s dating a Slytherin or something?”

“I can’t believe this; it must be a trick”

“Is this another absurd idea for house unity?”

Poor Harry, still fumbling with the tie, doesn’t get a word in edgewise. Ron isn’t sure it would do him any good if he could though, so maybe this is better, kinder.

The entire common room is so caught up in their discussion that no one notices the door opening. But Ron, who was waiting for Malfoy to show up, watches the smug bastard assess the scene, visibly pleased. This is his doing then. Not an innocent accident but a scheme.

Ron wants to be angry with him for putting his friend in this position, but he can’t deny the whole thing has a certain flair. He guesses Harry deserves it too, for keeping their relationship a secret this long, even from Ron. So, instead of helping him out, Ron leans back and enjoys the show. It’s certainly most amusing.

Ron isn’t the only one to expect Malfoy, though by the look on Harry’s face, he expected him later. Harry is overjoyed to see the git, until it dawns on him that if he is wearing Malfoy’s tie, Malfoy must be wearing his. Then he just stares at Malfoy, standing proud and smirking in a Gryffindor tie, revealing their relationship for everyone connecting the dots.

So, of course, Harry panics even more. His face changes from wonder to something closer to horror, and he makes frantic gestures meant to shoo Malfoy out, still foolishly believing this whole thing to be nothing more than an unfortunate accident. Love really does make you blind.

As with the tie, Harry’s attempts to subtly solve the situation and avoid attention does the exact opposite.

It doesn’t take long until Malfoy’s appearance and all the possible implications are discussed too.

Ron could swear money is being exchanged - these people bet on everything - but he doesn’t pay it any mind. He is fixated on Hermione freaking out, feverishly searching for a different explanation.

“No, they can’t be. Harry and Malfoy? Preposterous. It must be some kind of charm, curse more likely, ancient probably. I know I just read something like that! Or it’s a prank, a stupid, unfunny prank. But why on earth would Malfoy ever agree to participate? Why would Harry even ask him?

“It doesn’t make any sense! These two can barely stand to be in the same room without insulting each other and now this? No, I refuse to believe it. Unthinkable that they should have planned this.

“This can only be a misunderstanding, a bizarre and total coincidence. Harry is wearing someone else’s tie and Malfoy just happens to be here too.”

Ron can’t contain his laughter anymore; this is absolutely brilliant.

“Mione, love, have you considered that they maybe, I don’t know, might be dating, possibly?” Hermione doesn’t even glance at him, too focused on watching Harry desperately trying to pull Malfoy out of the common room and away from the chaos they’ve caused.

“Oh Ron, don’t be ridiculous.” He should not think it endearing how she scolds him without even paying attention to him.

“I know it seems unlikely, but ‘when you have excluded the impossible whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’” Her obscure muggle references are endearing though, and Ron has no problems at all with being charmed by them. Hermione is still staring at the door through which Harry escaped, so Ron takes her face in his hands to make her look at him. He has had quite enough of being ignored.

“’There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact.’ Did you really not know? They weren’t very subtle.” She looks honestly shocked that she isn’t the only one who can quote Sherlock Holmes. As if she hadn’t gone on and on about him lately. Ron does listen to her sometimes.

Her awestruck expression quickly changes into one more familiar. Pity, he could have grown used to being looked at like that.

“You knew? How long, why didn’t you tell me?” Ron just laughs and happily lets her rant about the importance of open communication.

#Harry Potter #drarry #romione #secret relationship #pov ron #my writing #fluff #8th year

[eldbitch-horror]

Heat Me Like a Filament: Chapter 4- Am I Only A Lab Rat

Can also be read and commented on here if you really enjoyed, please consider visiting my ko-fi and giving me a tip  Will has finally been given more liberties, but Uncle Jack has come a knockin’ 

The morning sun woke Will. It was peeking through the blinds just enough to bother his eyes. He rolled over away from the window, and snuggled in deeper to the covers. He lay like that for a moment, before he realized. Window? Sunlight? He sat up, and looked around. A gasp escaped him when he felt Hannibal stir beside him. Hannibal must have carried him upstairs at some point during his heat. He had little memory of the experience, besides that first time. The bite, and the pleasure. He stroked his fingers over the mark.

This must have been Hannibal’s bedroom. It was lavish like the rest of the house he had seen. Ornately decorated, if not a touch eccentric. It was such a stark contrast to Hannibal’s childlike persona. Everything was muted in color, and from what little of the house he had seen, lamplight or natural light was the most illumination it offered.

The window specifically caught his attention. It didn’t seem to be barred or locked. A smarter man would have flung it open and jumped. Yet he just padded over to it, draped in a sheet, and stared out into the world. It had been a long time since he had seen the grass outside, or cars driving by. It felt so foreign, like it was a different world. The idea of going out into it actually made him feel anxious. He stepped back away from the window, and turned to find Hannibal staring at him.

“You were going to leave?” Hannibal asked sadly.

“I just wanted to see. I haven’t been outside in a while.” Will went back to sit on the bed. “Are we in your bedroom right now?”

Hannibal nodded softly, “Do you like it?”

“It’s very decorative. Have you always liked these kinds of things?”

“It’s all I’ve ever known. I was raised with these things. So I decided to make my own home like this. This was back when I was stable.” He explained, quite coherent at the moment. Will felt the bite mark on his neck, and wondered if that had something to do with it.

“I see… Hannibal, do you understand what you’ve done?”

“I’ve bonded us. We are mates now.” he brightened at that, quite pleased with himself apparently.

“You have… I didn’t want to be bonded, Hannibal. I don’t-” It caught in his throat when he saw the tears in Hannibal’s eyes. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” he scooted close to him, and held his face. “I just wasn’t ready for it.” “I told you I didn’t mean to be bad!” He shook out, lip quivering.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I won’t bring it up again.” He reassured, and stroked his hair gently. “You’re okay. You aren’t bad.” He leaned to kiss Hannibal’s forehead.

Hannibal opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. It was quiet at first, and then it grew loud, and demanding. Will could hear a familiar voice, “FBI, open up!”

“Hannibal. They know. You have to hide. Go hide under the kitchen. Just don’t go into the room and shut the door.”

Hannibal’s fear was palpable, and it tightened around Will like a noose. “I have to go now?” “You have to go now. They’ll take you away.”

“I don’t want to leave you.”

“You have to, or else you’ll go to prison for a long time.” He insisted.

Hannibal started sniffling, and just sat for a moment before there was another knock on the door. Hannibal stole a kiss, before he ran to the kitchen to hide. Will watched him go, and grit his teeth. What was he doing? Just last week he was dreaming of this day. Finally being freed. Now it made him sick to think about it.

Another knock at the door. Will felt his bond mark, and then exposed his arms to leave bite marks all along them. It made his eyes well with tears, and he cried out, drawing blood on himself. “We have a warrant!” He heard Jack yell from the other side of the door. Will took a moment to work himself up further. He then ran to the door, and opened it.

“Jack!” he cried, breaths coming in sharp gasps.

“Will!” Jack grabbed him, “Where is he? Who took you? Where is he?”

“I don’t know. He left last night. He hasn’t been back.” Will felt sick to his stomach. He wanted to convince himself it was because he was lying to Jack.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. They’ll look for him. You’re safe now.” he reassured, and then led him out of the house.

EMS was waiting, and they checked Will over. They bandaged all of his bite wounds, including the one on his neck. He hoped they didn’t see the difference between them. They asked him all the basic questions, and he answered them to the best of his abilities.

“Do you know where you are, or what day it is?”

“I honestly don’t. That’s not head trauma though. I’ve been in a basement until today.” He explained.

Once he was all cleared, they let him go with Jack, and they got in a squad car. It was strange to be in the back of one, even though he knew he wasn’t in trouble. He imagined handcuffs on his wrists. He almost wished there was.

Will stared at the house he had been trapped in. It looked so peaceful, so beautiful. He rested his head against the window, and allowed himself to start crying.

The drive back to the bureau was silent. He didn’t want to talk to Jack. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He instead found himself worrying about Hannibal. What if they did catch him? How long would they linger around that house? Surely they’d be waiting for him to get back. His chest felt tight, a gruesome image of Hannibal’s corpse sitting on the stairs in his mind.

As the car stopped, he rubbed his eyes. “It’s okay now, you’re safe.” Jack reassured. Will internally rolled his eyes,

“Thank you.” He murmured, and followed him inside. He followed him to a small room, and sat down. Jack sat across from him, a desk between them.

“Can you tell me what he looked like?” Jack asked. Will shouldn’t have been surprised. He didn’t offer him anything. Just wanted to catch another bad guy. “The address is attached to a man named Hannibal Lecter. Is that name familiar?”

Will was silent, staring down at the table. He tapped his knuckles against it nervously a few times. He then slowly raised his head, and made eye contact with Jack. “No.”

Jack nodded softly, “Okay. Do you know what his name was? Did you see him?”

“I don’t know his name. I did see him a little. He’s short. With darker skin.” Will’s lies came pouring out. He didn’t want to help Jack. Jack didn’t want to help him.

“Alright… Do you know where Hannibal Lecter is?”

“I told you, I don’t know him.” Will shrugged weakly. “Jack, I’m tired. I’m thirsty. I want to see my dogs.”

“I know, and we’ll get you home soon but first I have to ask the-”

“No, Jack. I want to go home.” He looked him in the eyes again, “Please, for the love of God. Let me fucking go home.”

Jack sighed heavily, and his voice lowered, “I can’t let you go home, Will. I’m sorry. You were abducted from there just a few weeks ago. We have to find this guy, or at least get a good lead.”

Will took a shaky breath in, body going rigid before he slammed his fists on the table, “I fucking hate you!” he was surprised by his tantrum, and rubbed his face and relaxed. “I’m sorry. I’m-”

“It’s okay Will. You’ve been through a lot.” Jack said calmly. Will resented the fact that he had cut him off.

“I have been. You have no idea.”

“Then give me an idea, Will.”

Will told him fragments of the truth. About the basement, about Hannibal feeding him, and sometimes coming to talk. He left out the bits about feeling friendship for him, about his heat. About the bond that was aching on his neck. He told him just enough so that he still seemed like a victim, and Hannibal wasn’t the perpetrator.

Jack was obviously troubled by the story, “we’ll find him, Will. He won’t get away with this.”

Will just gave a weak nod in response, eyes darting around the room. “Now can I go home?” he pressed.

“As long as you have someone with you. I’d also like to have some sort of surveillance on the house. I know, I know that you like your privacy. I just can’t have you disappearing again.”

“This isn’t about me, Jack, now is it?” Will leaned forward in his seat, hands clasped together on the table. His entire demeanor changed in a moment. “This is about Miriam Lass.” his tone was low, and cold. “The one you couldn’t save. You don’t give a shit about me. You just think saving me somehow would clear your conscience.” He couldn’t deny it. He was pleased at the shocked look on Jacks face. He kept pushing,

“So what’s next, hm? You get me a therapist, make sure I’m medicated. So that in the next month or so, you can come knocking on my door. For what?” He opened his hands, brows raised in fake confusion, “to check up on me? No. There’s another case. Another bloodbath to look at. So you drag me there and you make me look!”

His voice was losing its cool tone, beginning to shake and raise in volume, “And I slip deeper and deeper into something I can’t escape! Do you sleep at night, Jack? Do you lay with your wife, close your eyes, and dream? I fucking don’t. It follows me home. It follows me, and lays in my bed, and sinks into my dreams! That doesn’t matter to you though! All that matters, is that the case is solved. Another bad guy caught. Another win for good ol’ Jack!” He stood up, hands now balled into fists, “you shouldn’t be able to sleep at night, not when you knowingly made me look! You made me see! Knowing how it affects me!”

An officer came into the room, hearing all of the commotion from his post outside the door. “Everything alright?”

Jack raised his hand dismissively, “It’s alright. Would you call Alana Bloom?”

“I don’t want to see her.” Will spat, “She won’t change any of this. She won’t help you!” He lunged over the table, and the officer quickly grabbed Will, and shoved him against the desk, pinning his arms behind him.

Will struggled for a moment, before becoming compliant. He was cuffed, and made to sit back down.

Jack sighed heavily, “I don’t know what to tell you, Will. What we do here. It’s important. We’re saving lives. Countless lives.”

Will chuffed in irritated amusement, “the sacrificial lamb to save the flock.” He let his head fall back, “I would really like to go home now.”

“I can’t let you go home. You’ve obviously been through a lot. You aren’t stable enough.”

Will kicked the desk, and actually bared his teeth, “Let me fucking go home!”

“Not until you’ve been evaluated. Dr. Bloom, on the phone, now.” He ordered the officer, who went to call her.

“Great…” Will muttered, and laid his head down on the table. His head was spinning, feeling the residual effects of his rage. His ears were hot, and his breaths came in short pants.

Alana was there in just minutes, rushing into the room. It was evident she’d been crying. “Will!”

He looked to her, and smiled softly, “long time no see…” his anger dissipated at seeing her. She was the closest thing to a friend he had.

“Why is he in cuffs?!” She glared daggers at Jack. He always enjoyed Alana’s irritation with Jack. He was finding himself elated it by it even more than he had before.

“That’s why you’re here. He tried to jump over the desk at me.”

“He was making me mad.” Will pouted out, before shaking his head to clear it, and straightening his posture, “I just mean- I just want to go home, and nobody is letting me go home.”

Alana looked very troubled now, face pinching, “you’ve been through a lot, and we aren’t sure that your home is completely safe.”

“Are my dogs okay?”

“Your dogs are fine. I’ve been checking on them.”

“With a police escort.” Jack interjected, trying to drive home the point that Will couldn’t just go home.

“Then give me a police escort, and let me go.” Will bargained.

“Maybe you and I should talk, without Jack?” Alana suggested, sitting down in the seat beside him. “I won’t talk to him while he’s in cuffs.”

“He is a danger to others and himself. For now, the coughs stay on.”

“Fine. Get out.”

Jack huffed his way out of the room, and Will smiled at that. “You sure do know how to get under his skin.”

Will ended up having to tell the story all over again, still leaving out all the bits that incriminated himself, or directly incriminated Hannibal. He insisted that he was fine, just very tired, hungry, and ready to be home. He played his cards just right. Pushing his sad puppy routine, giving her the saddest eyes he could muster, working up tears.

“I’m scared. I’m terrified. I don’t know how to deal with this. I need your help. I just want to see my dogs, and sleep in my own bed.” It worked like a charm. Alana sighed, and after some short deliberation, called Jack back into the room.

“He needs to go home. I’ll go with him, and we’ll take an escort with us.” Of course, Jack didn’t like this at all, but looking at Will’s sad face, and Alana’s persistence, he nodded slowly. “Alright. I’ll have it arranged.”

“We thought you were dead.” Alana noted, now in the car and on their way to Will’s house.

“Surprise.” He joked feebly, and gave her a frail smile. She smiled back in just the same manner. Humoring him. The rest of the drive was silent.

He could hear the dogs barking from the house before they even got close. He smiled wide, and hopped out of the car as soon as he could. He rushed to the door, and opened it to the let the pack out. He crouched, and pet each of them. “Hi guys! I know I know. I’ve missed you too!” They milled about him, happily yipping and jumping over each other to get close.

They lapped away the tears that were cascading down his face. “I’ve missed you all so much…” He scratched Winston behind the ears. “Were you good for Alana?”

“He was awful. I couldn’t keep him home. Every time I let them out, he was gone. I’d have to go looking for him.” Will was surprised at that, “Oh, really? He’s never done that before.” He stroked behind his ears.

“He was looking for you. We all were.”

“Well… You all found me.” He grinned lopsidedly, “Thank you, Alana. For taking care of them. And bringing me home. I’m sure Jack will be banging on my door in the morning.”

“If jack knows what’s good for him, he’ll keep his distance for a while.” She murmured.

“You’re right about that.” He whistled for the dogs to follow him inside. The officer with them made himself at home on the porch. Will prayed Hannibal hadn’t been dumb enough to come here.

Will looked around his house. It was just how he had left it, though it seemed cleaner. “Did you clean?” he asked, puffing a laugh at the idea.

“It wouldn’t kill you to bust out the vacuum every once in a while.” she grinned, and sat down on his couch. “How are you feeling?”

“Don’t. Alana, you aren’t my therapist, you’re my friend.”

“I’m asking as a friend.”

“Then, as your friend, I am fine.” he strained a smile, before he continued self touring his house. The dogs were right on his heels, and Alana behind them.

“I want to ask you a lot of things, but I don’t want to be too invasive.”

He stopped at his bookshelf, and caressed the spines absently. “Your professional curiosity just can’t be sated, can it?” he asked, his voice light, but the accusation was there.

“It’s a curse.” she sighed, “Did he give you all of those bites?”

Will paused, and then nodded slowly.

“The one on your neck… Is that..?” She trailed off, and Will could sense her apprehension. It was suffocating. Her politeness was almost irritating. Just spit it out.

“No, it’s just a bite. He had a thing for biting. He had a taste for me. I think he’s an omega anyways.” Heat built in his cheeks, and he hoped it wasn’t as obvious as it felt.

“Oh good… Are you hungry, Will?” It was apparent she was just trying to change the subject. To keep the air from becoming empty.

“I am.” His mind immediately drifted back to Hannibal, as it already had so many times that day. The meals he would bring down, and Hannibal showing him certain news articles on his tablet while they ate.

“I’ll see what you have.” She went to the kitchen to try and find something to make.

The only things available came in boxes or prepackaged bags. They’d settled on spicy noodles. Will was sitting at his table, across from Alana. One bite in, and he grimaced inwardly. At one point, maybe even just a few weeks ago, he would have found this to be a satisfying meal. Now, however, it tasted like the water it was cooked in, and the box it had came in. He ate a few mouthfuls, before setting the rest down for the dogs to eat. “My appetite is a bit off.” he admitted.

“I’m sure you’re just not used to having so much food.” she commented. Will nodded his agreement, despite the fact he had actually gained weight since being at Hannibal’s.

With dinner finished, they cleaned their dishes, and went to the living room to relax. Will poured them each a drink. He had admittedly missed his whiskey. They sat on the couch together, room for a third person between them.

“I really thought you were dead.”

“Two sips in, and it’s already honesty hour?” Will teased, sloshing his drink as he stared into it.

“Don’t deflect. I’m serious.” She scooted closer. “I thought you were gone. I thought you were gone and there was so much I wanted to tell you.” tears rolled down her cheeks again, and she bit her lip and swallowed tightly.

“I’m alright now. I’m here. I’m home. I’m okay.” he shrugged softly, not looking up at her. He didn’t want to confront what may be happening right now. Something that he had dreamt of before, but felt a nasty pang in his guts thinking of now.

“Will, I shouldn’t have-” she paused to compose herself, taking a big gulp of her drink, “I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

“I wouldn’t think too much about it. Like I said, I’m here. I’m alive.” He looked to her finally, surprised at just how close she was now. “Alana-”

She leaned in, pressing their lips together softly. Will accepted the kiss for a moment, tilting his head. The movement made his bond mark ache, and he pulled from the kiss. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this right now. I need to go to bed.” His heart was thrumming in his chest. He stood up quickly, and rushed to his room, calling the dogs in after him.  

#hannigram #alternate universe #Alpha/Beta/Omega #ABO #my writing #fanfiction

[rosalind-of-arden]

Smoke and Iron Reread chapter 35-End

Here we are at the end of the book. Looking for Morgan, Wolfe, and Santi as usual.

Thomas!!! It’s so nice to see his way of thinking here.

Chemical glows require power supplies, and those power supplies will also work for the Ray of Apollo. Interesting. What kind of power? Not electrical, since that got sent to the Black Archives. Quintessence?

Wolfe is watching Thomas while the Spanish ambassador and troops freak out over the power supplies. Wonder how long he’s been keeping an eye on him. Just since the power went out? Or longer?

Like Wolfe and Santi, Thomas needs to be doing something to keep the trauma from overwhelming him. As soon as he has no more work to do, he cracks.

An addition to thoughts about scents that we’ve bounced around: Khalila is now wearing jasmine perfume, which Thomas recognizes. That gives us two scents for her, doesn’t it? Cinnamon and jasmine. Do those go together, or does she pick different ones depending on her mood and/or what’s available?

Wolfe told Thomas that talking about Rome would help. Wolfe has not talked much about Rome himself. Wolfe knows what’s good for him, but hasn’t been able to do it. And here’s Thomas, too, having a hard time talking. Rome was that devastating that neither of them has processed it enough to put it into words yet.

I was surprised by Wolfe’s reluctance to use the Ray of Apollo the first time I read this, but after looking more closely at the scene in Brightwell castle where they test them in Ash and Quill, this fits. So much of Wolfe’s supposed ruthlessness is a front. At heart, he is uncomfortable with violence, especially on the scale of these new weapons.

But some of this is also just Wolfe’s communication style clashing with Thomas’s. Wolfe is deflecting his discomfort with sarcasm, which Thomas finds upsetting. Thomas argues back with appeals to their shared trauma, which Wolfe finds upsetting. Both are so focused on protecting themselves that they don’t realize how much they’re hurting each other.

To follow the flow of conversation, we have Wolfe first expressing wonder at Thomas’s engineering skill, and Thomas being at once humble and vulnerable by explaining that he needed to keep busy. Thomas is probably looking for an expression of support here. But that hits too close to home for Wolfe, who can’t handle the combined vulnerability of being nice and being reminded of his own trauma. So Wolfe tries to laugh it off. Even to Thomas that laugh sounds bleak. And then Wolfe snarks, because that’s what Wolfe does when he feels too vulnerable. But Thomas takes it as an attack. I don’t think Thomas comes from a background of using insults as humor: look at his reaction to Callum Brightwell putting Jess down in a way that Jess pretty much brushed off. It’s also hitting one of Thomas’s insecurities, which Wolfe might not even realize. Thomas is uneasy with the fact that after Rome, he’s built nothing but weapons, in contrast to the peaceful things he built before. And Thomas fights back against this perceived attack with repeated reminders of Wolfe’s trauma, which does nothing to help Wolfe feel less vulnerable. That silent glare at the end? I think that might just be Wolfe realizing that they’re triggering each other and finding a way to back down.

Santi is scoping out the opposing forces and analyzing the tactical situation. He’s calmer than he was before. Having things to do helps. Having a whole night with Wolfe probably helped too.

Zara tries to appeal to Santi’s sense of strategy, but it’s not working. He’s already committed, and he and Wolfe have already accepted their likely deaths. Santi is more comfortable with trying and losing than with not trying. But I don’t think Zara could succeed in convincing Santi any other way. Her loyalties might be conflicted, but his aren’t. The low odds of victory are all she has.

Santi has fully adopted the kids now: losing Dario hurts more than any of the other apparent failures of their plans.

Santi has really grown to like Dario: “as unlikable as Dario had been at times, he’d changed. He’d become something better.” Somewhere in the weeks he’s spent working with Dario since the betrayal, Santi has seen something in him that he respects. @thegreatlibraryfangirl, have fun with this little hint at Santi/Dario possibilities.

“It’s a dragon. It breathes Greek fire.” Credit where credit is due. Zara is a terrible backstabbing traitor, but this is a good line.

“Wolfe looked up, and Santi found himself smiling. No, grinning. He saw the matching, vulpine expression on his lover’s face.” I’ve said this before, but really, Santi has never been more turned on in his life. And Wolfe knows it. Santi: OMG you killed me a dragon, I love you! Wolfe: Why, yes, I did. I expect to be rewarded with sex.

And this is the moment that Zara picks to try to talk Santi out of siding with Wolfe. Very bad timing, Zara.

I think this might be an honest statement of Zara’s feelings here. As we’ve discussed in threads that are impossible to find on this hellsite, Zara probably doesn’t know exactly what Wolfe went through. She’s just seen how it’s affected Santi: “I’ve watched you drag yourself through hell for him.” Of course, even without that, she dislikes Wolfe and doesn’t consider him worth risking death over.

Zara also appeals to the oaths Santi has taken. To Santi, the Library already betrayed him, so it’s not a betrayal to go against those oaths now. But Zara has no reason to feel the same. This is also the last appeal she can think of to make: if he isn’t convinced by the risk or by the idea that Wolfe isn’t someone worth fighting for, maybe an appeal to his sense of honor might work.

Santi gives Zara a chance to change her mind. He is either very confident that she cares too much about him to shoot, or he cares so much about her that he’s willing to let her shoot him. Maybe some of both.

Just in case Santi’s devotion to Wolfe wasn’t really, really clear: “I would go to the lowest depths of hell for him.”

Here’s another part that could read more than one way: “It would be unkind of him to lie to her. He would never choose her over Wolfe. Best she understand that now, at the end of all this.” Santi and Zara might have a purely platonic friendship that is strong enough that she could reasonably expect he would choose that friendship over his relationship with Wolfe. Santi and Zara could have a platonic friendship with Zara hoping it might turn romantic. Maybe there was a romantic or sexual relationship between Santi and Zara, and she hoped to become his primary partner instead of Wolfe. Regardless, this is an ending for Santi and Zara. She forces a choice between her and Wolfe, and there’s only one way that can go.

A rare public display of affection for Wolfe and Santi. Hugs! They’re getting more comfortable with showing affection in front of the kids.

“Santi pulled his lover close, and in this quiet moment before everything began, and ended, he was happier than he’d been in years.” This could be about Zara: the tension between her and Wolfe might have been weighing on Santi a lot. But it’s more than that, I think. Ever since Wolfe disappeared, Santi has been pulled in different directions by conflicting loyalties. There was his company, the Library, and Wolfe, and they weren’t all on the same side anymore. With Zara’s departure, Santi has severed the last tie that held him back from committing to a single side, and he feels much better that way. He, Wolfe, and his company are all working to reform the Library.

Santi’s company, or at least the portion of it joining in on the rebellion, is 500 soldiers. There are 500 Elites. Santi mentioned seeing multiple Elite companies, so those must be smaller than regular High Garda companies.

They have 5 troop carriers, and Glain says those can hold 50 if they crowd people in, so 10 to a carrier.

Now that Santi doesn’t have the Library pushing him to violate his ethical principles, here he is insisting on them in his first orders as rebel commander. Protect civilians, minimize killing.

Santi is perfectly happy to negotiate a temporary truce with the smugglers. Again, avoiding violence where possible and focusing on the goal.

There is a second dragon automaton almost complete in the workshop.

Morgan is gasping for breath and struggling to walk. How much of this is just the drug’s effects, how much is from her fighting it to access her power?

Morgan had a little bird automaton from Thomas to comfort her the first time she was trapped in the Iron Tower. Now the Archivist is attacking with birds. Maybe not deliberate, but still, ouch.

But then Morgan takes a bird back. Reclaiming the symbol and killing Gregory with it.

Also on a thematic note, here’s a case of lack of imagination being a villain’s downfall. One of the things that separates our heroes from the villains is imagination, and now we’re seeing imagination prevail.

The drug was somehow ties to Gregory himself. He goes down, Morgan gets her power back. But then she immediately overuses it and feels the paths inside her “scorch in painful streaks.” She’s at risk of corrupting herself again.

Morgan feels love for Jess, and is confident in that love. It’s a very powerful feeling, inspired by his insistence on protecting her. Of course, they’re all also about to die. Kids, kids, please consider the effect of adrenaline on your emotions. All of you.

It’s not explained, but why do I suspect that it was Annis who talked Eskander into joining the battle? She’s right there with Eskander.

Working together, the Obscurists can wield a lot of power. But what about the risks? Is the danger of corruption balanced across the group? Are some more at risk than others?

Santi’s soldiers have the Archivist and Curia trapped. The Archivist gets away with Zara. Who else escapes with him? Jess isn’t paying attention.

So Zara’s face was dark in Paper and Fire. Now it’s pale. The green eyes stay consistent, at least.

Santi is very upset by Zara’s reappearance and rescue of the Archivist. He’s “sickly pallid.”

Wolfe calls Jess “son” and tries to comfort him. Dad Wolfe!!!

Santi, Anit, and Morgan are also there with Jess. He still feels alone. In particular, he doesn’t feel that Morgan’s presence is comforting, even though she is being her usual affectionate and caring self. Brendan is too big of a loss.

Annis can write scripts to amplify voices. It’s Eskander who activates it, though. A lot of collaboration between Annis and Eskander here.

As soon as he gets a chance, Eskander goes looking for his long-lost son. I wish we got to see this reunion between them more closely.

Santi encourages Khalila to consider leadership as a career path. Nudging her toward becoming Archivist in the future, if not right away.

Battle injuries: Thomas has a broken leg. Wolfe’s arm is injured, but not badly enough to keep him from taking Brendan’s body. Dario was beaten badly enough that he couldn’t walk. Santi has unspecified wounds in need of Medica treatment. Everyone has some cuts and scrapes and such.

This letter says the old Archivist has one-third of the High Garda on his side. Within Alexandria or outside? They weren’t there for the battle in the arena.

#The Great Library #smoke and iron reread #smoke and iron spoilers