#servant and master so that it makes him feel less insecure. he’s also one sided in love with tywin and likely has been his whole life. yea. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tsunonotarou · 4 years

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Being Childhood Friends to Lovers with...

notes — Bro I fucking THIRST for this man he can rip me open

— Also I think I’m gonna start this series called “Being Childhood Friends to Lovers with...” because childhood friends to lovers shit is my kind of shit

— We’re debuting this series with Leona 🥳

BEING CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS WITH...

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

— AS A CHILD

He cherishes you a lot even though he might not show it

You’re the first ever person who acknowledges him, first ever person who approached him first and talked to the second son

He thought you were strange at first, because why would you talk to a mere second born when the first is right here with you? So he distances himself and avoided you at first, thinking you have ulterior motives

You got the signs and didn’t pester him after that—which he is glad for—but he find himself secretly looking at you or purposely look for you in the castle whenever you come visit (let’s say you’re a royalty too and your parents’ are good friends)

It was when he saw you sulking and pouting by yourself, he felt bad and maybe, you just wanted to be friends

The servants always prepared your favorite sweets when you come visit but you didn’t want any after realizing that he’s ignoring you

So he took some, went to look for you and threw them at you

“H-Huh?—“ you got startled and quickly looked up, seeing his neutral expression on and looking down on you

“So, your parents bought you that whatever thing you want, and then what?”

The way he remembers your one-sided conversation with him before honestly made you tear up, you didn’t think he was listening

From then on, you were also excited to visit the king’s castle because you get to see him, and you made sure to bring various of things over for him and you to play

There was one time he accidentally overheard some servants of yours “advising” you to stop hanging around with Leona Kingscholar, saying how he isn’t worth your time and shouldn’t be influenced by him

Though he was sure of your loyalty and friendship with him, he still has his doubts, maybe, you secretly dislike him too

He waited for your response, your silence only made him more anxious as time pass by

“...Hey.” He bit the inside of his cheek, awaiting for your answer

“I’m gonna ask my parents to fire you all.”

His eyes were wide as ever, and so were the servants’

“B-But please, Princess/Prince Y/N-“

“I will not tolerate anyone who badmouths my friend, moreover, who do you guys think you are? Telling me who I should be friends with now?”

As much as Leona tries to stop it, his eyes watered, lips quivering at your words

He never told you how he eavesdropped your conversation with those servants, because eventually it’ll lead to how he reacted, and he’s never going to tell you he almost cried

He taught you how to roar once, got super red when he himself haven’t even mastered it yet

Glares at your form rolling on the floor laughing

— AS TEENAGERS

He is two years older than you, so he got enrolled into Night Raven College first, during the times he was at the dorm you were bored to death

One of the main reasons (probably the only reason) why he’d go back home during breaks is because of you, he could care less about the grand welcome back party—which he was sure the servants were forced to put up—and the fake smiles from relatives, but he had to see you

Is always prepared for the uncalled tackle hug from you but somehow you always manage to knock him off balance, causing the two of you to fall down onto the sandy ground

You rambled and rambled, he listened but solely focused on how your features changed, you definitely grew up, got more attractive, too

Oh fuck

He mentally cursed when he finally realizes how his heart is beating in an unusual pace, feeling his cheeks warm up and how he felt like melting right there and then

Buried his feelings deep down because of his insecurities and acted as normal as he could with you after

You have never seen him panicked so much, got so angry and frustrated before, it happened once, when the topic of arranging a marriage for you and his older brother, Farena, was mentioned

He strongly opposes the idea but reminding him that he is only a second son, hence have no say in this matter was enough to shut him down

You tried to go after Leona who stormed to his room but decided you have more important matters at hand, matters that you need to clarify first

Politely declining the marriage and telling how Farena is a good person, but you have eyes for someone else

Everyone in the room (which consisted of both your parents and Farena) knew who you were talking about, and they were shocked, to say the least

You can clearly see the discomfort in yours and his’ parents faces, but you also can clearly see Farena’s secret wink towards you, telling you he approves

You and Farena never had any romantic feelings for each other anyway, and he was always teasing about you and Leona when you two were little

Knocking on Leona’s room softly then creaking it open, you peek your head inside to see him lying on the bed on his side with his back facing you

“Leona.”

“Leona?”

“Leooona.”

“Leeeeeeonaaaaaa.”

“LEONA WAKE THE FUCK UP.”

“FUCK-“

He winces and jolted up after you slapped his arm

Snaps and growls at you, rubbing the spot where you attacked earlier

He was all grumpy and upset until you tell him you rejected the marriage

Stares at you for a good ten seconds before sighing, slowly resting his forehead on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around you

You two have had naps together, held hands when you were little but have never been this physically close after you two grew up, you two are the best of friends but there are boundaries as friends, so this was new to you, naturally, your cheeks bursted in all shades of red

“I’m glad...” you can hear him mumble, placing a hand on his soft hair and patting it before give it a stroke, calming him down

— AS STUDENTS IN NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE

You teases him so fucking much about being a dorm leader, like- how??? He’s just so lazy and unmotivated to do anything that you’re impressed

Surprisingly takes very good care of you both as a friend and a senior, it was surprising for the Savanaclaw dorm members to see Leona actually giving fucks about someone, a freshman no less, so they got interested in you very quickly

Which resulted in Leona scaring them away because they’re too close for his liking

He always suggests you to take naps and laze around with him though, so it’s no good since you have to get good grades

You’re the one who’s always dragging him to classes (if you’re lucky to get him to move)

You two never bothered to tell anyone that you’re childhood friends, it didn’t seem to have the need to

So everyone thought you two were dating because of how close you are 💀

Definitely got jealous at how you made new friends

He doesn’t mind if you have new friends, it’s natural, it’s only concerning if you don’t have any

But if you’re spending more time with them than with him? Best know that he’d trap you in his room and never let you go out

This won’t stop until you figure out why he’s like this and promise him he’ll stay as number one in your friendship list

You really shouldn’t be but you’re still laughing at how he’s repeating school years to this day

But you’re also kind of glad that he’s still here with you, it’d be boring if he weren’t

Plus, Leona wouldn’t leave you here alone anyway, there’s too many people he can’t trust and he just generally don’t wanna leave you alone

The confession was surprisingly normal and quick, no stutters or nervous twiddles of fingers from him

He kinda just, got tired of you being so physically close and attached to everyone else that he want to call you his and his only

He’s the type that’d suddenly pin you down on his bed while you’re talking about what you and your other friends did that day

Enjoys the deep blush and lip quiver on you as he finally confesses his feelings for you, leaning down onto your ear and whisper huskily about-

His arms quickly wrapped around his stomach and coughs as your strong kick jerked him back, he ended up kneeling on his bed, hunched over as he groans

He thought he invaded your privacy and made you uncomfortable so he quickly look up to check up on you, afraid of the terrified and disgusted look on your face, but what greeted him was a hot, hot face as you refuse to look him in the eye

He stared, and stared, a small blush slowly coming up to his own cheeks before a pillow was thrown at his face

Seeing you so flustered reminded him of the past few days when he debated with himself whether he should go for it or not, he might seem smug for now, but before this cocky smirk appeared he was a nervous wreck

So the two of you kinda just stayed like that in his room, freezing on your spot with dead silence

“A-At least give me an answer...damn it.” A miracle that he stuttered

He watches as you fiddled with your finger, looking down with mumbles he couldn’t make words out from

“I...I like you too.”

This is so lame, you two are like middle school kids confessing your love for each other and yet, those simple words made his heart flip like crazy

Now that he’s confirmed your answer, prepare for a wild but sweet kiss from him

— AS LOVERS

It was a little bumpy at first, mostly from you though, because you’re just so used to being “just friends” with him that you don’t know how to act as his lover

He didn’t change much, maybe a little bit sweeter and considerate than before but he’s just the old Leona you know, which you’re glad for, you didn’t want him to change

He’s more protective now since you’re finally his, and he made sure to let everyone know that

Doesn’t really have a say on PDA, he’s fine with or without it, but he would definitely shove his tongue into your mouth right on the spot if someone even dare to look at you in the wrong way

Really likes wrapping an arm around your waist and put his whole weight on you because he’s lazy and tired of walking

Will actually fall on you when you’re in the botanical garden so that you couldn’t get up and is forced to take a nap with him

Play with his hair!! He loves it to death, though he might grumble and say he doesn’t, we all know he’s lying

You have to reassure him that he’ll always be your number one, he’s already suffered enough, if you end up leaving him he doesn’t know how to cope with it

Cuddles, cuddles and cuddles 24/7, he will not let you go

He sometimes just stares at you as you talk or do your own thing and think about how lucky he is to have you, it might not seem possible but literal hearts appeared in his eyes

If you ever catch him staring at you and tease him for it he’ll growl and pounce on you, how dare you make fun of your king like that? Prepare for a punishment my friend ;)

#leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #leona twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar twisted wonderland x reader

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blackswaneuroparedux · 4 years

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Treat Your S(h)elf: Imperial Boredom: Monotony and the British Empire by Jeffrey A. Auerbach (2018)

The British Empire has had a huge impact on the world in which we live. A brief look at an atlas from before World War One will show over hundred colonies that were then part of the Empire but now are part of or wholly sovereign states. Within these states much remains of the commercial, industrial, legal, political and cultural apparatus set up by the British. In many former colonial areas, political issues remain to be solved that had their genesis during the British era.

The legacy of the British has been varied and complex but in recent years much attention has been on making value judgements about whether the Empire was a good or bad thing. Of course the British Empire was built on the use of and the continual threat of state violence and there were appalling examples of the use of force. As well as the slave trade, there was the Amritsar Massacre in 1919, the 1831 Jamaican Christmas Uprising, the Boer War concentration camps (1899-1902) and the bloody response to the Indian Mutiny of 1857. However, we must not just focus on these events but examine the Empire in all of its complexities.

In the current moment of our times, it would seem that as a nation we are more concerned about beating ourselves up and making the nation feel guilty than understanding how and why the British came to exist, and setting the growth of the British Empire into historical context to be wise about the good, the bad, and the ugly. History has to be scrupulously honest if it’s not to fall prey to propaganda on either side of the extreme political spectrum.

Truth be told I find these questions about the British Empire being good or bad either boring or unhelpful. It doesn’t really bring us closer to the complexity and the reality of what the British Empire was and how it was really run and experienced by everyone.

For myself personally the British Empire was part of the fabric of our family history. The Far East, the Middle East and Africa figured prominently and at the centre of which - the jewel in the crown so to speak - was India. In my wider family clan I’ve come to learn about - through handed down family tales, personal diaries, private papers, and photos etc - the diverse experiences of what certain eccentric characters got up to and they ranged from missionaries in India and Africa to military men strewn across the Empire, from titans of commerce in the Far East to tea farmers in East Africa, from senior colonial civil servants in Delhi to soldier-spies on the North West Frontier (now northern Pakistan).

My own experience of being raised in India, Pakistan as well as parts of the Far East was an adventure before being carted off to boarding school back in Britain and then fortunate in later life to be able to travel forth to these memorable childhood places because of the nature of my work. Having learned the local languages and respectful of customs I have always loved to travel and explore deeper into these profound non-Western cultures. Despite the shadow of the empire of the past I am always received with such down to earth kindness and we share a good laugh. So I always assumed that the British Empire played a central role in the life of Britain has it had in our family history just because it was there. But historians are more concerned with much more interesting questions that challenge our assumptions.

So when I was at university it was a great surprise to me to first read a fascinating history of the British Empire by Bernard Porter called ‘The Absent Minded Imperialists: Empire, Society and Culture in Britain’ (2004). Porter was, in his own words, “mainly a response to certain scholars (and some others) who, I felt, had hitherto simplified and exaggerated the impact of ‘imperialism’ on Britain in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, after years in which, except by empire specialists like myself, it had been rather ignored and underplayed. […] the main argument of the book was this: that the ordinary Briton’s relationship to the Empire in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries was complex and ambivalent, less soaked in or affected by imperialism than these other scholars claimed – to the extent that many English people, at any rate, possibly even a majority, were almost entirely ignorant of it for most of the nineteenth century.” It became a controversial book but a welcome one because it was well researched and no doubt made some imperial historians choke on their tea dipped biscuits (and that’s not even counting the historically illiterate post-colonial studies crowd in their English faculties who often got their knickers in a twist).

Years later I read another fascinating collection of scholarly chapters by different historians called ‘Anxieties, Fears, and Panic in Colonial Settings: Empires on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown’ (2016) edited Harald Fischer-Tiné which challenged a rosy vision of Britain’s imperial past by tracing British imperial emotions: the feelings of fear, anxiety, and panic that gripped many Britons as they moved to foreign lands. To be fair both Robert Peckham’s Empires of Panic: Epidemics and Colonial Anxieties (2015) got there before him but Tiné’s history set the trend for others to follow such as Marc Condos’s The Insecurity State: Punjab and the Making of Colonial Power in British India (2018) and Kim Wagner’s Amritsar 1919: An Empire of Fear and the Making of a Massacre (2019).

They all set out their stall by highlighting the sense of vulnerability felt by the British in the colonies. Fisher-Tiné’s edited book in particular highlights the pervasiveness of feelings of fear, anxiety, and panic in many colonial sites. He acknowledges that: “the history of colonial empires has been shaped to a considerable extent by negative emotions such as anxiety, fear and embarrassment, as well as by the regular occurrence of panics.”

The book suggests that these excessive emotional states were triggered by three main causes. First, the European population in British India was heavily dependent on Indian servants and subordinates who might retaliate against unfair masters or whose access to European dwellings could be used by malevolent others to poison the white elite. Second, anxieties about the assumed toxic effects of the Indian climate fuelled also poisoning panics. Diseases such as malaria and cholera were considered to be the ultimate outcome of an “atmospheric poison”. Third, Indian therapeutics and the system of medicine were also identified as a potential cause of poisoning European communities. These poisoning panics only helped reinforce the racial categorisations of Indians, the moral supremacy of the white population, and the legitimacy of colonial rule. Overall the book expanded the understanding of how a sense of fragility rather than strength shaped colonial policies.

Now comes another noteworthy book which again sound a little quirky but is no less meticulous in its research and judicious in its observations. Many books about the British Empire focus on what happened; this book concentrates on how people felt. When I was first given it I was predisposed to be negative because here was a book about ‘feelings’ - the current disease of our decaying western culture. But I was pleasantly surprised.

Was the British Empire boring? So asks Jeffrey Auerbach in his irreverent tome, ‘Imperial Boredom: Monotony and the British Empire’ (2018).

It’s an unexpected question, largely because imperial culture was so conspicuously saturated with a sense of adventure. The exploits of explorers, soldiers and proconsuls – dramatised in Boys’ Own-style narratives – captured the imagination of contemporaries and coloured views of Empire for a long time after its end. Even latter-day historians committed to Marxist or postcolonial critiques of Empire tend to assume that the imperialists themselves mostly had a good time. Along with material opportunities for upward mobility, Empire offered what the Pan-Africanist W.E.B. DuBois called ‘the wages of whiteness’ – the psychological satisfactions of membership in a privileged caste – and an escape from the tedium of everyday life in a crowded, urbanised, ever less picturesque Britain.

The British Empire has been firmly tied to myth, adventure, and victory. For many Britons, “the empire was the mythic landscape of romance and adventure. It was that quarter of the globe that was coloured and included darkest Africa and the mysterious East.” Cultural artifacts such as music, films, cigarette cards, and fiction have long constructed and reflected this rosy vision of the empire as a place of adventure and excitement.

Against this widely held view of the empire, As Auerbach argues here, however, the idea of Empire-as-adventure-story is a misleading one. For contemporaries, the promise of exotic thrills in distant lands built up expectations which inevitably collided with reality.

In a well-researched and enjoyable book, the author argues “that despite the many and famous tales of glory and adventure, a significant and overlooked feature of the nineteenth-century British imperial experience was boredom and disappointment.” In other words, instead of focusing on the exploits of imperial luminaries such as Walter Raleigh, James Cook, Robert Clive, David Livingstone, Cecil Rhodes and others, Auerbach says pay attention to the moments when many travellers, colonial officers, governors, soldiers, and settlers who were gripped by an intense sense of boredom in India, Australia, and southern Africa.

For historians, the challenge is to look past the artifice of texts which conceal and compensate for long stretches of boredom to unravel the truth. Turning away from published memoirs and famous images, therefore, Auerbach trains his eye on the rough drafts of imperial culture: letters, diaries, drawings. He finds that Britons’ quests for novelty, variety and sensory delight in the embrace of 19th-century Empire very often ended in tears. Indeed Auerbach identifies an overwhelming emotion that filled the psyche of many Britons as they moved to new lands: imperial boredom.

Precision in language and terminology is essential and Auerbach begins by setting out what he means by boredom. Adopting Patricia Meyer Spacks’ approach, he points out that the term first came into use in the mid-18th century. Auerbach identifies then the feeling as a “modern construct” closely associated with the mid-18th century where the spread of industrial capitalism and the Enlightenment emphasis on individual rights and happiness that the concept came to the fore. This does not mean that nobody previously suffered from boredom, but that, with the Enlightenment’s emphasis on the individual, this was when the feeling first became conceptualised. Like Spacks, he distinguishes boredom from 19th-century ‘ennui’ or existential world-weariness and also from monotony, which has a much longer history. Whilst a monotonous activity or experience may generate a feeling of boredom, it will not necessarily do so. The two terms must, therefore, not be equated.

Significantly, in a footnote, Auerbach cites a passage from 19th Century English satirical novelist, Fanny Burney, in which an individual is described as ‘monotonous and tiresome’ but, as he emphasises, ‘not boring’. To prevent confusion, the term ‘boring’ is best avoided when describing an activity or experience because this is to beg the question as to whether it does in fact generate feelings of boredom in a particular person.

How then should this state of mind be assessed and what should be seen as the symptoms of imperial boredom? As Auerbach acknowledges, boredom ‘is not a simple emotion, but rather a complex constellation of reactions’. Building on that approach, he says ‘imperial boredom’ reflected ‘a sense of dissatisfaction and disenchantment with the immediate and the particular, and at times with the enterprise of empire more broadly’. If this tends to mix cause and effect, the idea of dissatisfaction and disenchantment essentially mirrors Spacks’ definition of the symptoms of boredom, namely, ‘the incapacity to engage fully: with people, with action, with one’s own ideas’. ‘Imperial boredom’, therefore, was more than a fleeting moment of irritation with a particular situation or person and reflected a mind-set that derived from, and in turn, further contributed to, a sense of disillusionment with the overall project.

It stemmed, so Auerbach argues, from the marked contrast between how empire was represented and how it turned out to be, between ‘the fantasy and the reality’. ‘Empire was constructed as a place of adventure, excitement and picturesque beauty’ but too often lacked these features. Nowhere is this better described than in George Orwell’s Burmese Days, in which the promising young John Flory has become ‘yellow, thin, drunken almost middle-aged’. Beginning with this illustration, Auerbach argues that historians have too often overlooked this essential aspect of empire and sets out to discover the extent to which it was characteristic of what Flory called the ‘Pox Britannica’ more generally.

During the 17th century the British Empire sustained itself on the story that the colonial experience was both righteous and unbelievably exciting. Sea voyages were difficult, and when one eventually did reach landfall there was a good chance of violence, but the exotic foreign cultures, the landscapes, and the wildlife made the trip worthwhile. The British colonialist was meant to be swashbuckling. Advertisements for even the most banal household goods offered colourful and robust propaganda for life in the colonies. Travelogues and illustrated accounts of colonial exploration were wildly lucrative for London publishing houses. All of this attracted a crowd of young Brits eager to escape the drudgery of life in the metropole.

By the 19th century, expectations were catching up. As Auerbach makes it clear, from the beginning, the sense of boredom experienced by many Britons in new colonial settings was much more profound during the nineteenth century. Indeed, the latter was marked by a series of bewildering social, cultural, and technological changes that stripped the empire of its sense of novelty. The development of new means of transport such as steamships, the rise of tourism, and the proliferation of guidebooks jeopardised the sense of risk, newness, enthusiasm that had long been associated with the British imperial experience. Consequently, while “the early empire may have been about wonder and marvel, the nineteenth century was far less exciting and satisfying project.

Auerbach spent 20 years gathering evidence spanning the late 18th century to the turn of the 20th, which records feelings of being bored, miserable and deflated. It’s a captivating history of imperial tedium drawn from memoirs, diaries, private letters and official correspondence. In “reading against the grain”, as Auerbach puts it, he has focused on recorded events normally skimmed over by historians, precisely for being boring – multiple entries repeated over and over again about the weather, train times, shipping forecasts, deliveries, lists and marching; or about nothing ever happening.

In five thematic chapters, “Voyages”, Landscapes,” Governors,” Soldiers”, and “Settlers,” Auerbach shines new light on the experience of traversing, viewing, governing, defending and settling the empire from the mid-eighteenth century to the early twentieth century. The monotonous nature of the sea voyage, dreary and uninteresting imperial lands, daily routine, depressingly dull dispatches, mind-numbing meetings are some of the sources of an utter sense of imperial boredom.

Whilst the first chapter, Voyages, may be the logical starting-point, it presents particular problems. They may have been monotonous, but it is unlikely that they would have engendered feelings of disenchantment and disillusion at the outset of an empire life or career. Auerbach begins with the somewhat surprising assertion that ‘not until the first half of the 19th century did long-distance ocean travel become truly monotonous’, arguing that this was because, until then, the weather had been ‘a source of danger and discomfort’ whereas, by the mid-19th century, ‘it was barely worth mentioning’. Leaving aside the obvious difficulties with that approach – many 19th-century travellers, assuming they survived, described enduring terrifying typhoons in the Indian Ocean and South China Sea – voyages certainly could be monotonous, particularly, when steam replaced sail.

However, his assertion that this ‘helped to produce feelings of boredom that had never been felt before’ is more questionable. For example, whilst Sir Edmund Fremantle (1836–1929) wrote in his memoirs that, although the sea passages were ‘monotonous’, ‘it never occurred to [him] to be bored’, Auerbach suggests that, ‘in several places his memories [sic] belie his claims’, in that they refer to the ‘the monotony’ of various experiences, including cruising out of harbour under steam rather than under sail, which ‘always possessed some interest’. But, this not only contradicts what Fremantle wrote but also equates boredom with monotony and, thus, deprives it of any proper meaning.

Similarly, because the Royal Naval Surgeon, Edward Cree (1814–1901) recorded his passing the time ‘reading, drawing, walking on deck, eating drinking and sleeping’, Auerbach concludes that ‘almost every leg of his 1839 journey to the East was boring or disappointing’. However, he omits the opening words of this journal entry which reads, ‘making but slow progress towards China. Weather intolerably hot … The time passes pleasantly enough on board’, which suggests he was certainly not bored. Much of this chapter is not concerned with monotony but with how ‘dreadful’ sea voyages could be, particularly, for travellers to Australia, most of all transported convicts, who, as he shows, had to endure the most brutal conditions. But they had no expectations of empire and this seems to add little to the understanding of imperial boredom.

It may well be that, because voyages were so unpleasant, travellers became all the more expectant and thus disappointed, when, on arriving, they found, as Auerbach argues in the next chapter, that much of the landscape was dreary and uninteresting. Moreover, many could not decide whether they were in search of a landscape that was picturesque and exotic or ‘normalised’ by reproducing English architecture, gardens and surroundings. This dichotomy generated further disenchantment.

If Auerbach dwells too long on obscure painters who often had little success in making these imperial landscapes picturesque, there is no doubt that many of them were monotonous, not least the vast tracts of Australian out- back. Consequently, whilst ‘the early empire may have been about wonder and marvel, the 19th century was a far less exciting and satisfying project’ and this contributed to feelings of boredom.

In the chapter, ‘Governors’, Auerbach essentially covers the administration of the empire. Here, there was also a lot of monotony, although Auerbach wavers between whether this was caused by having too much or too little work to do. Either way, it leads to the assertion that ‘throughout the nineteenth century and into the twentieth, British imperial administrators at all levels were bored by their experience, serving king or queen and country’. However, this is qualified in the next paragraph, in which he cites the Marquess of Hastings, who served in India in the early 1800s, and Lord Curzon, who served as Viceroy at the end of the century, neither of whom, he says, suffered from boredom. It was ‘during the middle decades, that imperial service was far less stimulating’ but he does not explain why it should have been limited to this particular phase.

Indeed, in terms of the staggering quantity of paper generated by the ICS, the problem stretched back to the early 18th century. Records were copied and recopied, and months were spent waiting on instruction from London. The few encounters with colonised subjects came in the form of long, drawn-out formal events. Lord Lytton as Viceroy of India between 1876-1880 was required to bow 1230 times during one particularly ceremonial reception with the Viceroy.

Whilst it is ultimately fruitless to exchange examples of officials who did and did not find government service boring, some of those chosen by Auerbach are not convincing. James Pope Hennessy, for example, the eccentric Irishman who delighted in antagonising the colonials and endearing himself to the indigenous people with his unconventional views on racial equality, certainly found the European life-style monotonous but, as a result, made sure he kept ceaselessly active. In the words of his biographer, ‘the chief impression [he] made on British and Orientals alike was one of superlative vitality. “He would do better”, wrote Sir Harry Parkes “if he had less life”’, Coming from Parkes, that arch- imperialist, who allegedly died from over-work and could never have been bored, the comment is telling.

While idleness certainly contributed to boredom, it was often the labour of maintaining colonial control that proved to be the most dull. Increasingly professionalised, the management of the colonies became characterised by strict report-making, bookkeeping and low-stakes decision-making related to staff. Whilst these officials may have become disenchanted, it is unclear what sort of mind-set they had when they started out: according to Auerbach, ‘they may well have entered imperial service out of a sense of duty, or perhaps looking forward to a colonial sinecure that offered status and adventure as well as a generous salary, but instead found themselves inundated by a volume of paperwork and official obligations that they had never anticipated, and which they found to be, quite frankly boring’. As a result, they were ‘eager to escape the tedium of the empire they had built’.

Whilst this suggests that, as a result, they threw up their empire careers, the example of Sir Frank Swettenham does not seem to fit the picture. He may have found life from time to time ‘extraordinarily dull’, but he continued as a government official in the Malay States for thirty years, before retiring in 1901. His belief in the imperial cause seems to have overcome the dullness and trumped any possible disenchantment.

In the chapter entitled, Soldiers, Auerbach concedes that ‘the link between military service and boredom can be traced at least to the mid-eighteenth century’. However, he argues, what was different in the 19th century was that boredom was no longer simply ‘incidental or ‘peripheral;’ it was ‘omnipresent’ and this was ‘a function of unmet expectations’, namely, the unsatisfied thirst for action and bloody combat as the ‘small wars’ of the Victorian age became shorter and fewer. However, citing Maeland and Brunstad’s Enduring Military Boredom, he concedes that this omnipresent boredom is a ‘condition that persists to the present day, especially among enlisted men’. This, therefore, divests it of any imperial character and suggests that it was, and remains a feature of modern military service.

Nonetheless, it would have been interesting to know how this boredom affected the performance of the military in the context of empire. Certainly, it gave rise to some of its more unsavoury aspects, with drunken soldiers brawling and beating up the locals and spending much of their time in the local brothels.

According to Richard Holmes, by 1899, there was ‘a real crisis’ in the infection rates of venereal disease of British soldiers in the Indian Army: ‘for every genteel bungalow on the cantonment … there were a dozen young men, denizens of a wholly different world, crossing the cultural divide every night’. Here was imperial boredom in the raw and urgent measures had to be taken to abate its consequences.

Although the final chapter is entitled ‘Settlers’, it encompasses a much broader category of imperial agents, including women, who until this point have been little- mentioned, and, in particular, women in India ‘most of whom went there in their early twenties to work (or to accompany their husbands who were working) and then typically left by the time they reached their fifties to retire in Britain’. It is unclear why these women and, indeed the whole topic of women in empire, should be subsumed under this chapter heading, given their importance in the empire project and the attention given to them in post-colonial scholarship.

In recent scholarship, empire white women have been frequently misrepresented and lampooned in the literature, including the novels of E. M. Forster, George Orwell, and Paul Scott and all too often reincarnated as representing the worst side of the ruling group – its racism, petty snobbishness and pervading aura of superiority and shown as shallow, self-centred and pre-occupied with maintaining the hierarchy of their narrow social worlds. They have invariably been portrayed as both bored and boring.

The wives of these officials were encouraged to run their households in a similar way, managing a large domestic staff and keeping a meticulous watch on financial expenditures. Socially, they were faced with constant garden parties and dinners with whatever small group of colonial families lived nearby. It’s difficult to imagine just how dull the existence of these administrators must have been, yet in reading these colonial accounts, the temporality and the totalising effects of boredom feel undeniably similar to the way that we describe the monotony of work today.

Auerbach effectively reiterates the trope as a clichéd illustration of a female, reclining aimlessly on a chaise longue, conjuring up the familiar image of ‘the same women [who] met day after day to eat the same meals and exchange the same banal pleasantries’ and concluding that ‘it was not only in India that women were bored, which suggests that the phenomenon was not a localised one, but a broader imperial one’.

Of course many western women did find life in empire monotonous and suffered from boredom, if not depression, and no doubt many were insufferable, as were their husbands, but there is an alternative image and the analysis is so generalised that their contribution is, once again, in danger of being dismissed out of hand.

A more nuanced approach would have examined ways in which women overcame their boredom by pursuing activities in which they were anything but bored, including, most obviously, the missions, a category which, despite its importance, does not feature, save for one cursory comment to the effect that, ‘even missionary women, whose sense of purpose presumably kept them inspired, could find themselves bored’. The example given is that of Elizabeth Lees Price, who, at one point during her eventful life, had to help run three schools for 30,000 pupils. But, just because her diary recorded ‘with increasing frequency’ the comment ‘nothing has happened’, it seems a stretch to infer, as Auerbach does, that ‘not even missionary work was enough to stave off the boredom that afflicted women all across the empire’.

For Auerbach, recuperating boredom means reframing the experience of empire as one of failure and disappointment. In the context of colonial scholarship, which tends to focus on the violence of colonialism and the myth-making that went along with it, Auerbach’s book is rather counter-intuitive. He drains the power of these myths, looking instead at the accounts of those responsible for building empire from the ground up: “What if they were not heroes or villains, builders or destroyers,” he writes, “but merely unexceptional men and women, young and old, rich and poor, struggling, often without success, to find happiness and economic security in an increasingly alienating world?” The agents of colonialism struggled to find any semblance of agency in the work that they were doing. Imperial time stretched out, deadened over decades of appointment in far off islands and desert outposts: a sort of watered down version of Hannah Arendt’s “banality of evil” in paradise.

Whilst Auerbach demonstrates that much of empire life was monotonous, to my mind, he is too quick to infer that this monotony necessarily gave rise to feelings of ‘imperial boredom’, properly so-called. He also too easily assumes that, where people were bored, this could only operate in a negative way and, whilst he may be right in concluding that, ultimately, ‘the British were, quite simply bored by their empire’, he fails to draw the evidence together to explore what impact imperial boredom had on the development of empire, for better or worse, during the long 19th century.

If not quite an invention of the 19th century, boredom was a particular preoccupation of the period: the product of new assumptions about the separation of work and leisure and a prominent theme of fin-de-siècle literature. Less clear is whether Auerbach is right to treat boredom separately from other emotional states – anxiety, loneliness, anger, fear – which afflicted the imperialist psyche. After all, a long literary tradition – from Conrad to Maugham, Orwell, Lessing and Greene – describes precisely how those varied shades of neurosis blended into one another.

Besides, a more capacious history of discontent and Empire might help to connect the frustrations of the imperialist experience to the suffering of imperial subjects. When, for instance, did boredom turn to aggression and violence? One danger of Auerbach’s approach in Imperial Boredom is to portray an enervated and under-stimulated, yet still extraordinarily powerful, elite as more or less passive.

As imperial rivalry intensified towards the end of the century, so did the quest for new ways of staving off boredom, not only for men in the British Empire but also for those in the other European empires, and war was one of the most obvious solutions.

As other imperial historians have argued, what Europeans were seeking was everything the nineteenth century, in its drawn-out tedium, had denied them. War as Cambridge historian Christopher Clark has argued, “was going to empower them and restore a sense of agency to their limbs and lives.” Auerbach refers to what Clark called ‘the pleasure culture of war’, citing the example of Adrian de Wiart who, serving in the Boer War, knew ‘once and for all, that war was in my blood. I was determined to fight and I didn’t mind who or what’. But he does not explore the consequences of this mood further, other than to say that these adventurers also ‘ended up bored … and disillusioned’. But, the implications were, arguably, much more far-reaching.

Even if it was not directly causative, this mood was ‘permissive’ of the more direct causes and certainly formed part of the background against which Europe went to war in 1914. It may be thought that it did so in a fit of imperial boredom.

I admire the audacity of Auerbach’s writing and as a revisionist piece of history it has the dash and dare of British imperialism and colonialism. But after reading the book I came away thinking that sweeping statements such as that the empire developed “in a fit of boredom” are a tad unconvincing.

Although he spent about 20 years collecting materials, Auerbach seems not to have visited Africa or India during his research. Had he done so, I doubt if he would all too easily accepted that colonial accounts of being bored represented the full experience. Absent are deeper discussions of how expressions of being bored are linked to racism, arrogance and the need to assert power in exotic, challenging and unstable environments. Emotional detachment, disdain and a demand to be entertained were also part of a well-rehearsed repertoire of domination.

But where Auerbach does succeed is in admirably capturing the texture of everyday imperialist life as few historians have. Most of these examples are compellingly relevant and illustrative of some of the colonial circumstances that drove Britons mad with boredom, challenging one of the enduring myths about the British Empire as a site of exciting adventure.

If you are a lover of histories of white imperial rulers and thumbnail portraits, this book is for you. It’s full of excellent quotes. Lord Lytton, for example, fourth choice to be governor-general of India in 1875 (and appalled by the prospect), later summed up the British Raj as “a despotism of office-boxes tempered by the occasional loss of keys”. It was certainly the case that propaganda about empire and the populist books written about it to make money created false expectations, leading to bitter disillusionment. Nostalgists for the age of pith helmets and pukka sahibs will find little comfort here.

In mining the gap between public bombast and private disillusionment, Auerbach demonstrates that – even for its most privileged beneficiaries – Empire was almost never a place where fantasy became reality. I would suggest that rather than the British Empire being mostly boring, more accurate would be David Livingstone’s verdict on exploratory travel while battling dysentery: “it’s not all fun you know.”

The concept of imperial boredom provides a novel and illuminating lens through which to examine the mind-set of men and women working and living in empire, how it was that, despite the crushing monotony, so many persisted in the endeavour and what this tells us about the empire project more generally. There are all states of mind familiar to historians of empire (in the lives of their subjects, of course). It has long been argued that strategies to relieve moments of white boredom in the empire included cheating and adultery, husband hunting, trophy wife hunting, massive consumption of alcohol, gambling, copious diary and letter writing, taxidermy, berating the servants, prostitution, bird-watching, game hunting, high tea on the verandah, fine pearls and ball gowns, all were par for course in the every day lives for those bored British colonisers.

Auerbach’s book reminds me of a not so nice female character bemoans James Fox’s scandalous but true to life colonial novel White Mischief (1982), as she looked out over the Rift Valley in 1940s colonial Kenya, she declares, “Oh God! Not another fucking beautiful day.”

An earnest post-colonialist studies reader might might feel triggered by such a flippant remark as evidence of all that was wrong with the imperial project but at heart it’s a pitiful lament disguised as boredom at the gilded cage the British built for themselves to capture the enchantment and disenchantment of every day life in the British Empire.

#treat your s(h)elf #books #book review #bookgasm #reading #imperialism #british empire #boredom #british #history #colonialism #imperial boredom #jeffrey auerbach #empire #personal #bio #childhood

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theredhairedmonkey · 4 years

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Viren and Callum—Defining Heroism

Callum is a foil for each of the three antagonists, and each season focuses on a different pairing.

During Season 2, Callum’s arc was a foil to Claudia’s. I break down some of the similarities between them here. Callum and Claudia both exhibit a curiosity to learn more about magic (particularly at the Moon Nexus), and both are fiercely protective of those closest to them. To the extent they will use Dark Magic to protect them.

But whereas Callum tries it once and decides to reject it for good, Claudia continues to succumb to this temptation, time and time again.

During Season 3, Callum’s development is contrasted with Aaravos. At this point, Callum is, like Aaravos, a magical prodigy; each had mastered at least one Primal Source they weren’t born connected to.

Additionally, both demonstrate great influence over the lives of those around them. But they are diametrically opposed in terms of their goals. Whereas Aaravos cares primarily about advancing his own interests, Callum wants to genuinely help people, and empower them to make their own choices (as opposed to manipulating them like Aaravos).

This foil can be summed up simply—Callum is motivated by the Narrative of Love. Aaravos is motivated by the Narrative of Fear.

Harrow: “I ask you and your brother to reject history as a narrative of strength and instead have faith that it can be a narrative of love.”

Aaravos: “You tried to win over the other humans with loyalty and friendship, but they ignored you. Those who fail tests of love are simple animals. They deserve to be motivated by fear.”

But the focus here is on Viren and Callum, and starting in Season 1 and throughout the first three seasons, Viren and Callum have very deep, narratively important parallels with one another.

Both are the mages who advise their respective Kings.

Callum: “When you grow up, sometimes you have to face things you’re not ready for.”

Viren: “He insisted I stand next to him in the painting, because he knew I would stand by him through anything.”

Both are curious and want to explore the depths of magic to the greatest extent possible.

Viren and Callum are also both insecure in their place in the world, relying (at least initially) on magic to help give them a sense of belonging

But their differences not only define their dynamic, they also define many elements and themes to the Saga, in particular as to what it means to be a hero.

To begin, Viren is great, though not necessarily good. That is to say, even though he may be capable of great deeds that save countless lives (such as in saving the people of Duren with the heart of a Titan), these deeds don’t actually make him a heroic person.

This is because every great deed he did stemmed not from altruism or compassion (no matter how well he convinced himself that it did), but from his tragic flaws: his arrogance, his vanity, and importantly, his hubris—his belief that he can subvert the natural order in his favor without consequence.

From what we can gather, Viren is a force to be reckoned with. His skills with magic have made him so powerful, he can cast a spell that would save two kingdoms from starvation.

They are also such that he’s considered by Amaya, a talented warrior herself, perhaps “the most dangerous human in the world.”

His martial prowess is quite exceptional as well, as he’s able to go toe to toe with two Dragonguards for a time. Even though they’re elite fighters and they’re flanking him, he’s able to hold his own for a while before having to resort to magic.

However, Viren is a tragic character. I don’t mean this in the sense that we should feel sorry for the power-hungry man who attempted to murder two boys and steal the throne. Rather, his “greatness” is undermined by his personal flaws, which he can’t quite shake and prevent him from being good.

Part of Viren sincerely wants to improve life for his people. When talking to Aaravos, to whom he has no motivation to lie, he states his aim is to help mankind flourish “without a knife to its throat”

He’s even willing to consider sacrificing himself, either for King Harrow or, in Lux Aurea, for his army.

Aaravos: “We’ll risk as few lives as possible. One.”

Viren: “Ah. Mine.”

But as per his hubris, he exhibits great pride in how his abilities can help mankind flourish or save his people. While he wants mankind to prosper, he wants this to be his achievement and wants people to know that he is the one who saved them.

In his story to Queen Aanya, he places a bit of undue emphasis on the fact that he was the one who up with a solution that saved Katolis and Duren. Whether or not this is what happened, it’s clear that he wants Aanya to know that he personally saved her kingdom.

A little less unclear is how necessary he ultimately was. Sarai goes back to save Viren because “without him to perform the spell, the heart is worthless, and this was all for nothing.”

I’m...skeptical as to whether this is what Sarai says, or if it’s Viren intentionally or unintentionally reading in what he wants her to say. Truth be told, Viren has no idea if this is what Sarai said because he wasn’t there when she said it. And why is the heart worthless? Viren wasn’t the only Dark Mage in the world, and probably not the only one between Duren and Katolis. There’s no reason why another mage couldn’t perform the spell.

But for Viren, the heart of the Titan might as well have been worthless because, in his mind, he’s the only capable of accomplishing these great feats.

Even when he was potentially willing to sacrifice his life for Harrow, he botched it with his speech to Harrow.

Viren: “Right now I do not come to you as my King. I think of you as my brother.”

Truth is, none of this throat-clearing is necessary. But, Viren’s not quite so humble, even when he’s attempting to do the right thing. He still wants to be seen as someone special, even when laying his life down for another.

Turns out, this was entirely the wrong thing to say to Harrow, who is put off by Viren’s self-righteousness.

Harrow: “I see the problem now. It’s that you believe you are special. Better than everyone else, above the laws of this kingdom.”

When he’s forced to kneel and Harrow calls him a servant, this infuriates Viren and he sets aside any plans he had to sacrifice himself for his King.

Harrow: “You are a servant of Katolis. You are a servant.”

Because if Viren is going to sacrifice himself, he needs people to know what a great thing it is that he’s doing. He’s not a mere servant, he’s their savior.

It’s interesting that Viren’s pride is so hurt of being called a servant of Katolis, since that’s exactly how Harrow sees himself, according to Viren.

Viren: “King Harrow worked tirelessly. He told me he thought of himself as a servant of all the people of Katolis. A servant King.”

But Viren doesn’t see himself in this way. When his potential sacrifice is treated with the same level of significance as though he were anybody else, it offends him that he has to share that importance with others.

And thus, his pride leads to his downfall, casting aside his desire to protect his King, and replaces it with a desire to be the King himself.

Viren: “Today, we must mourn sevenfold. For tonight, there will be a coronation.”

Callum, on the other hand, begins his journey on the opposite side of the spectrum from Viren. Whereas Viren can accomplish great feats without being good, Callum is a good person, though not great.

At least, not yet.

According to the main site, “Callum has a big heart, and always tries to do the right thing.”

He can be super proud of himself and his accomplishments, but he usually has enough perspective to avoid letting this get in the way of what he knows is important. For instance, he connects to the Sky Primal, something thought of as impossible for humans, he immediately shifts his attention to Ezran, never once bragging or reminding people of his accomplishments.

Corvus: That’s incredible, Prince Callum.

Callum: Thanks…uh, who are you?

And, when it comes time to laying his life on the line for others, he never hesitates. Notably, around the same time as Viren was thinking about sacrificing his life for Harrow, Callum was preparing to sacrifice himself for his actual brother, but with none of the bravado or self-righteous congratulating of himself.

Just a solemn, quiet attempt to save his brother, even at the cost of his own life, and even without anyone finding out about his sacrifice.

For Rayla, he performs Dark Magic, knowing how much she could possibly hate him for it, but deciding that her life is worth more than how she sees him.

Callum may start out with a big heart, but when it comes to his skills, well…

But if Viren begins as both powerful and amoral, it makes perfect sense to have Callum’s arc to begin as his opposite--someone without any special abilities but with a strong moral compass.

Because of this, we get to see him go from good to great. And his story walks this fine line, where he develops these magical abilities to perform heroic feats walking hand in hand with the realization that he doesn’t need magic to be heroic.

Callum: “It’s up to us now. We have to return this egg. We have to keep it safe and carry it to Xadia.”

Callum has the same temptation as Viren—this need to be someone important, which is a big part of his arc in S1 and S2.

In S1, he initially places a high premium on his sense of self-worth, willing to put their mission in jeopardy just so he can obtain an object that might help him become a better mage.

He assigns great importance to objects (such as the Primal Stone and the Key of Aaravos) rather than focusing on people or lives. Much in line with the way a Dark Mage would attach significance to magical components that are needed for spells.

Callum: “The truth is, its not me. It’s this. All the magic, all the power, all the confidence. It's just because of this amazing thing. A Primal Stone.”

Ellis: “That Primal Stone needs you to do all that amazing stuff. Without you, it's just a neat, glowy ball.”

Callum: “I guess so. But without this, I'm nothing. Just a guy who can draw and make wry comments from time to time. And they're not even that wry.”

Much like how Viren assigns great value to the mirror or the Dragon Egg, even above his own children’s lives.

Viren: “The egg. If you have to choose [between Soren and the egg], choose the egg.”

But by the end of S1, he realizes just how much more important the lives of his friends and the Dragon Prince are over his own sense of pride or self-worth. Unlike Viren, who places a great degree of importance to his sacrifice (honestly, Harrow should be honored that Viren would consider throwing himself on the sword for a mere king), Callum simply makes the realization of what he needs to do…and then does it.

S2 follows the aftermath of his decision, and Callum has to deal with no longer having his mage abilities. Again, he latches his entire sense of self-worth to be able to do magic.

As @raayllum points out here, he also aligns his ability to do magic to agency. Without magic, he’s paralyzed by indecision and an inability to do the right thing. He believes himself imprisoned by his inadequacy.

Callum: “If we're really going to change things, we can't just watch while humans and Xadia keep hurting each other. But how do I take a stand? Believe me, I want to go down there with you, and be the heroes who stop all the fighting and save the day, but I can't do that. I can't do anything!”

And he follows this line of reasoning to its logical conclusion:

Dark Magic

Dark Magic gives him all the power he needs. If Callum wants to be special (like Viren), if he wants to have agency and freedom for himself, this is the path he can take.

Dark!Callum: “You can have unlimited power, and you can choose what to do with that power.

And in that moment, he’s tempted. Truly, he’s tempted, to commit to this path, set himself free from his past limitations and feelings of worthlessness.

He can become like Viren, and make himself great…but in a moment of clarity, he sees Dark Magic for what it truly is.

This isn’t freedom. It’s not the power he wants.

It’s just another prison.

And unlike Viren, who succumbs to this temptation, Callum sees through it.

What’s noteworthy is that Callum doesn’t press on the point that it’s possible for him to learn an Arcanum and do magic some other. He doesn’t insist he can make this choice easy on himself; he chooses that, Arcanum or no Arcanum, this is not the kind of magic he will choose to do.

Callum: “Destiny is a book you write yourself!”

Instead of attaching his sense of self-worth and agency to magic, he breaks free of this toxic cycle and seizes the ability to direct his own fate.

This is a lesson that he then passes on to others.

Rayla: “What does this mean? What should I do?

Callum: “I don’t know. But it’s your choice. No one else’s.”

He finds his agency and self-worth independent of his ability to do magic, and realizes that his potential is actually in his complete control. Fittingly, it’s this realization that completes his journey to finally understand the Sky Arcanum.

In the end, Viren and Callum are quite similar, but the former lets his flaws get the better of him, his pride sinking him until he becomes malicious, grasping, and power-hungry. Eyes set on stealing the power to make him important.

The latter ascends past his prior limitations, refusing to yield to his own worst impulses.

Moreover, Callum holds on to his ideals in the face of adversity, even at his own expense, while Viren constantly tries to find “pragmatic” and expedient solutions to problems that always happen to end up with him on top of everyone else. Viren continues his dramatic decline, eagerly crossing one moral horizon after another, until by the end, he admits to Aaravos what he is really after is conquest; he’s willing to steal Zym’s life force just to become more powerful, sacrificing the entirety of his army to do it.

Callum, on the other hand, begins to truly understand what can make a good-natured person into a hero.

He expresses it in a speech about Rayla…

Callum: “It's because Rayla is a hero…Rayla saves people. She's brave. She does what's right, even if it puts her own life in danger, and even when the odds seem impossible. Even when it means her own people might misunderstand and turn against her. Rayla is selfless, strong and caring. That's what makes her a hero. That's what makes her Rayla.”

…and then proceeds to do each and every one of those things on the pinnacle. He bravely leaps after Rayla--even though it put his own life in danger--because it’s the right thing to do. Even though the odds of quickly mastering a complex spell on the way down seemed impossible.

Viren thinks his great feats are a substitute for a good character. Callum’s journey, on the other hand, is learning those character traits that make one heroic. He realizes, not only that Rayla is “selfless, strong, and caring,” but also why and more importantly, why he can be those things too.

And this dynamic between Viren and Callum culminates in the finale, where one falls…

…and the other rises.

#callum #viren #rayla #ezran #harrow #tdp #the dragon prince #s2 #s3 #s1 #aaravos #primal magic #dark magic #soren #claudia

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hamliet · 5 years

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Su She and Jin ZiXun: Society vs. Connection

Or, the SuXun meta no one asked for. (I’m kidding about SuXun.)

In all seriousness, though, this meta will focus on Su She and Jin ZiXun, who, while they initially come across as semi-unlikable one-note antagonists necessary for plot connections and not much else, both actually have a ton of depth and thematic relevance. In particular, they are both used to explore the concepts of insecurity and arrogance through the lens of privilege, thereby exemplifying the novel’s central paradox: society is a corrupting disease, but human connection saves.

Jin ZiXun and Su She are extremely similar characters; in fact, I’d say the only difference in their characters is essentially that Jin ZiXun is privileged and Su She is not. The defining trait for both seems to be arrogance. Arrogance and insecurity are very common character traits in Mao Dao Zu Shi (in addition to these two, we also see them to various extents in Jin ZiXuan, Jin GuangYao, Wei WuXian, Wen Chao, Wen Ning, Jiang Cheng, and Jin Ling).

Jin ZiXun is privileged in ways Su She could never be. He looks down on everyone around him except for one notable exception (to be discussed further on). He’s said to consider Jin GuangYao, his cousin, as being of “lowly” background and it’s added that he “was ashamed to be of one clan [with Jin GuangYao].” When he acts arrogant, trying to force Lan XiChen and Lan WangJi to drink with him despite Jin GuangYao’s protests that they do not drink, he appeals to the idea of perceived scorn to manipulate them, thereby revealing what is most likely his true fear of insecurity:

“The Jin Sect and the Lan Sect have always been like one family. We’re all the same. My two Lan brothers, if you don’t drink this, you’d be looking down on me!”

It’s also notable how society responds to his evident insecurity manifesting as narcissistic arrogance:

On the side, a few of his followers all praised, “What a bold move!”“That’s just how an esteemed cultivator should act!”

However, Su She’s position in society is quite different, and therefore so is his manifestation of his insecurity.

The incident with the waterborne abyss is where we first meet him, and it tells us all we need to know about society in the novel and Su She’s position in it:

a disciple on the other side also drew out his sword, thrusting it toward a dark shadow which swiftly swam by in the water.

However, after his sword went underwater, it never came out again. He chanted the sword incantation for a few more times, but nothing was retrieved from the water. It was as if his sword had been devoured by the lake, disappearing without a trace. The disciple looked like he was a youth of similar age as Wei WuXian and the others. Without his sword, his face grew paler and paler. An older disciple beside him spoke, “Su She, right now, we still haven’t determined what the thing inside the water is. Why did you act on your own and make your sword go underwater?”

Su She seemed like he was somewhat flustered, but his expression was relatively calm, “I saw that Second Young Master also…”

He realized, before he even finished speaking, how unsuitable this sentence was. No matter what, the Bichen sword or Lan WangJi were not comparable with others… He glimpsed at Lan WangJi, but Lan WangJi didn’t look at him, and instead attentively observed the water…

This passage emphasizes Lan WangJi’s biggest flaw: his inability to say what he needs to say. It also indicates, again, what society thinks of Su She: they don’t notice him. Everything he does appears to be for naught. He’s just not important. (The comment about Su She being unable to compare to Lan WangJi also draws to mind Wen Ning’s ultimate rebuke of Jiang Cheng.)

The waterborne abyss is itself a symbol of society, as it is sent to the Gusu Lan Sect’s territory from the uppermost sect in society:

Although they knew where the waterborne abyss came from, everyone grew silent.

If it was done by people of the Wen Sect, then there would be no result no matter how hard they accused or criticized. First of all, the sect wouldn’t admit it, and second, there wouldn’t be any compensation either.

The abyss, or society, eats up Su She’s accomplishments (and sword) and tries to swallow Su She in the end. Wei WuXian risks his life to save Su She, and then Jiang Cheng observes them, but cannot help (foreshadowing what will later happen when Wei WuXian dies: Su She will unknowingly lead to Wei WuXian’s destruction, Jiang Cheng will stand by and let it happen, and Lan WangJi will act). Lan WangJi pulls them all from the abyss, symbolizing how human connection is ultimately the answer for society’s poison.

So let’s talk Jin ZiXun and Su She’s connections next. Jin ZiXun has a one-sided personal beef with our protagonist Wei WuXian, while Su She has a one-sided rivalry with our other main character, Lan WangJi. And both Jin ZiXun and Su She have someone they esteem as more important than themselves, someone they cling to and use as a way to feel less insecure themselves. For Jin ZiXun, this person is his cousin Jin ZiXuan, who is repeatedly held up as a societal ideal. In fact, Jin ZiXun is introduced to us challenging Wei WuXian when he is unimpressed by Jin ZiXuan’s accomplishments, proclaiming, “If anyone here remains unconvinced, then feel free to try if you can shoot better than ZiXuan!”

For Su She, this person is Jin GuangYao, Jin ZiXuan’s brother who is on the outskirts of society because of his birth as the illegitimate son of a prostitute and a sect leader. Ironically, it’s Jin GuangYao’s desire for acceptance by anyone and everyone (but especially societally important people, as his father is) that leads to Su She and Jin GuangYao forming a bond--at the same moment Su She forms a rift with his privileged foil Jin ZiXun:

Someone spat, “Is this a road that someone like you can walk on? Who let you roam around!”

A young voice replied, “I’m sorry. I…”

Hearing this, Lan XiChen and Lan WangJi looked up at the same time. Beside the wall reliefs stood two men. The one who had just scolded someone was Jin ZiXun, with a few servants and cultivators following behind him. The one who had been scolded was a white-clothed young man. When the man saw Lan XiChen and Lan WangJi, his face immediately went pale. He couldn’t even continue with the things he wanted to say. As Jin ZiXun kept up his haughty guise, Jin GuangYao came to the rescue just in time.

He went to the white-clothed man, “The paths of Koi Tower are rather intricate. Young Master Su, it’s not your fault that you got lost. You can come with me.”

Seeing that he appeared, Jin ZiXun sneered and walked around them. The white-clothed man, however, hesitated, “You know me?”

Jin GuangYao smiled, “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I? Haven’t we met each other once? Young Master Su, Su MinShan, your swordsmanship is quite good. I’ve been thinking ever since the hunt at Phoenix Mountain about what a pity it’d be if such a young talent didn’t come to our sect. In the end, though, he did come to our sect. I was over the moon with joy. This way, please?”

There were countless cultivators who sought assistance by going to the LanlingJin Sect like Su She did. He thought that not many people would recognize him, having never expected Jin GuangYao to be able to remember him so clearly, going as far as to praise him, after just one hasty encounter with him. Instantly, Su She seemed to be more relieved. He ceased to look at the Lan brothers and followed Jin GuangYao away, scared that they’d mock or point at him.

The sad thing is that the Lan brothers likely would not have mocked him. In the end, both Jin ZiXun and Su She die with these respective friends of theirs, as nothing more than mere footnotes to the Jin brothers’ deaths. However, Su She’s death, in particular, shows us another aspect to his relationship with Jin GuangYao: even on the outskirts of society, they had a genuine connection.

After the waterborne abyss, the next time the novel introduces Su She is when he tries to sacrifice MianMian to appease Wen Chao (a symbol of arrogance and societal acceptance if there ever was one):

However, one of the GusuLan Sect’s disciples on the side had been trembling as he listened to Wen Chao’s threatening words. He finally couldn’t hold it any longer as he rushed over, grabbing MianMian, and prepared to tie her up. Lan WangJi’s brows stiffened. He immediately struck the disciple to the side.

Although he didn’t say anything, the way he looked at the disciple was more than imposing. What such a look meant was clear to everyone—it truly is a shame that the GusuLan Sect has taught a disciple like you!

The disciple’s shoulders quivered as he backed off slowly, unable to face the others’ eyes.

It is however an interesting reversal that Su She dies in a manner that redeems both of his earlier shames that drove him out of the Lan Sect. He dies sacrificing himself to save Jin GuangYao, rather than trying to sacrifice someone else, and he dies sacrificing his sword instead of losing it:

Su She dodged to the side with force. With the tip of his foot he picked up the sword that had fallen to the ground and conjured up all of his spiritual energy in one thrust at Nie MingJue’s heart. Perhaps because of the dire situation, the attack was abnormally swift and ruthless. Brimming with spiritual energy, the blade glowed brightly, enveloped by swirling radiance. It was so much better than all of the previous seemingly-elegant attacks that even Wei WuXian wanted to praise its excellence….

However, the sword had been infused with so much spiritual energy, due to Su She’s sudden explosion, that it could no longer withstand it. Halfway through the lunge, it broke into pieces with a crack.

On the other hand, Nie MingJue’s punch landed right in the center of Su She’s chest. Su She’s splendor left as quickly as it came. He couldn’t even spit out a mouthful of blood or say a few last words, no matter with dignity or cruelty, before the life in his eyes went out.

The symbolism of the sword is twofold: firstly, all the powers in the world can’t actually accomplish anything more than having little power can. The curse of insecurity originates with himself, which is why the rebound curse leaves him with holes on his chest.

Jin ZiXun’s death is also symbolic: he is cursed by Insecurity Embodied in Su She, cursed with the Curse of a Hundred Holes, which leaves holes on his body, symbolizing how he feels incomplete, and also marking him as a pariah from society.

Additionally, he allows this curse to separate him from the person he’s closest with, Jin ZiXuan:

“Why didn’t you tell me at all that you were cursed with Hundred Holes and instead came to do this without saying anything?!”

The fact that Jin ZiXun had been cursed with Hundred Holes was indeed an unspeakable matter. First of all, he had both a good appearance and a good physique. He’d always thought of himself as handsome and couldn’t bear for others to know that he was under such an unsightly, repulsive curse. Second of all, to have been cursed meant that his level of cultivation wasn’t high enough, since his spiritual energy was too weak to be able to hold against the curse.

In contrast, Su She’s death involves him becoming closer with someone he has a genuine connection with, because by helping Jin GuangYao, he knows that he’s going against society. As Wei WuXian says, the entire world is coming for Jin GuangYao, yet Su She still helps him.

To return to the sacrificial nature of Su She’s death, it’s also hard not to compare it with a sacrifice that happens earlier the same scene (and kind of the same chapter): Wen Ning’s sacrifice for Jiang Cheng, who is sacrificing himself for Jin Ling.

Jiang Cheng could only stuff Jin Ling behind him and unsheathe Sandu, which at the moment was unable to use spiritual energy, forcing himself to fend off the attack...

Wen Ning blocked himself before the wall, in front of the two of them. With both his hands, he grabbed Nie MingJue’s iron arm and slowly pulled it out of his chest, leaving behind a large, hollow hole. There was no bleeding. Only a couple of black organ crumbs fell out.

Wei WuXian, “Wen Ning!!!”

While Jiang Cheng looked as though he could lose his mind right there. He stammered, “You? You?!”

Wen Ning actually a character who is important to both Jin ZiXun and Su She’s stories throughout the novel.

Like Su She, he is insecure and regarded as weak by others. Like Jin ZiXun, he is, however, a skilled archer. And of course, he is killed in one of Jin ZiXun’s camps, by Jin ZiXun’s guards after Jin ZiXun failed to capture a monster:

Wei WuXian looked at him, “Who are you?”

Jin ZiXun paused in surprise before fuming, “You don’t know who I am?!”

Wei WuXian mused, “Why should I know who you are?”

Jin ZiXun, “I don’t remember, which means I don’t remember. I’m not so idle as to go out of my way to remember a Wen-dog’s name.”

Wei WuXian, “Fine. I don’t mind explaining it in greater detail. You couldn’t catch the bat king and happened to run into a few of the Wen Sect’s disciples who were there to investigate the same thing. And so, you threatened them to carry spirit-attraction flags to be your bait. They didn’t dare do it. One person stepped out and tried to reason with you. That’s the Wen Ning I’m talking about. After some delay, the bat king got away. You beat up the Wen cultivators, took them away by force, and the group disappeared. Do I need to say any more details? They still haven’t returned yet. Apart from you, I don’t know who in the world I could possibly ask.”

Jin ZiXun, “Wei WuXian, what do you mean? You came for him? You aren’t standing up for a Wen-dog, are you?”

And Wen Ning later kills both Jin ZiXuan and Jin ZiXun--however, it was not Wen Ning’s fault, but Wei WuXian’s. By trying to become a part of society, by searching for a place in it, you become a monster and a tool, even if not always as literally as it is with Wen Ning. Jin ZiXun is being manipulated by Jin GuangYao to kill Wei WuXian. In the end, Wen Ning uses his genuine connection with Wei WuXian to sacrifice his body to save Jin Ling and Jiang Cheng--the very same Jiang Cheng he just told this:

Sect Leader Jiang—you, so driven of a person, have been comparing yourself to others your whole life, but you have to know that you never should’ve been able to equal [Wei WuXian]!

Essentially, Wen Ning, having been someone at first looked down on for not being strong enough, and then shamed for being a Wen, and then regarded as a dangerous weapon, is telling Jiang Cheng that despite his not being the best in everything, despite how people might look down on him, you are still worth living.

Wen Ning is able to live, because he’s already dead. But Su She does not, and in true MXTX fashion in which self-sacrifice is often viewed as a form of self-harm, Su She’s sacrifice is ultimately futile. Jin GuangYao is stabbed killed later that very chapter.

However, it is fitting that this theme which has continued throughout the novel reaches its conclusion with Jin GuangYao. If there’s one character who embodies what it’s like to scrabble for society’s approval as a remedy for insecurity and self-loathing, it’s Jin GuangYao. As this incident shows:

On the other hand, Jin GuangShan, standing with a blank face where his seat was, finally lost his temper and kicked over the table in front of him. All of the gold dishes and silver platters rolled down the stairs.

Seeing his discomposure, Jin GuangYao wanted to ease the situation, starting, “Fa-”

Before he could finish, Jin GuangShan had already left. Jin ZiXun also felt that by giving in, he lost face in front of everyone. Out of both anger and hatred, he wanted to leave as well.

Jin GuangYao hurried, “ZiXun!”

Jin ZiXun was at the peak of his anger. Without a second thought, he flung away the cup of liquor that was turned down, directly towards Jin GuangYao’s chest. A splash of liquor immediately sprouted on top of the Sparks Amidst Snow blooming passionately over the white robes. It was more than embarrassing, but because of how chaotic the state of the hall was, nobody really minded the act of great misconduct.

Lan XiChen was the only one who exclaimed, “Brother!”

Jin GuangYao, “I’m fine, I’m fine. Brother, please be seated.”

It was unsuitable for Lan XiChen to comment on Jin ZiXun, so he took out a snow-colored handkerchief and passed it to him, “Go retire and change your clothes.”

Jin GuangYao took the handkerchief, wiping away as he forced a smile, “I can’t leave, can I?”

He was the only one left to clean up the mess. How could he leave the scene? He reassured the crowd as he ranted, completely exhausted, “Young Master Wei really is too impulsive. How could he speak in such a way in front of so many sects?”

Lan WangJi spoke coldly, “Was he wrong?”

Jin GuangYao paused almost unnoticeably. He immediately laughed, “Haha. Yes, he’s right. But it’s because he’s right that he can’t say it in front of them, correct?”

Here he is ignored by his father, insulted and humiliated publicly by his cousin, and left to clean the mess up. He refuses to retire and clean himself up like Lan XiChen asks him to do (a call-back to Lan WangJi asking Wei WuXian to come back to the Cloud Recesses with him). He knows that he’s saying something wrong, he knows that Wei WuXian is morally right, he knows society is a trap that eschews truth, but he cannot bring himself to pull away from it for the sake of seeking acceptance from his father, acceptance which will never come.

And in the end, Jin GuangYao too realizes that his need for societal acceptance led nowhere, that it wasn’t really what he wanted:

“Lan XiChen! In this life, I’ve lied countless times, killed countless times. Like you said, I killed my father, my brother, my wife, my son, my teacher, my friend—of all the evil in the world, what haven’t I done?!”

He took in a breath, rasping, “But I’ve never even thought of harming you!”

Lan XiChen was astonished.

Jin GuangYao panted harder, gripping the word as he spoke through clenched teeth, “… Back then, when the Cloud Recesses was burned down and you fled outside, who was the one that saved you from all the danger? And when the GusuLan Sect was rebuilding the Cloud Recesses, who was the one that helped with everything he had? In all these years, when have I ever cracked down on the GusuLan Sect, when have I responded with anything but support?! Apart from this time, when I’ve only temporarily staunched your spiritual powers, when have I ever wronged you or your sect? Why have I ever demanded gratitude?!”

Hearing these questions, Lan XiChen could no longer persuade himself to silence him again. Jin GuangYao, “Su MinShan could repay me in such a way just because I remembered his name back then. You, on the other hand, ZeWu-Jun, Sect Leader Lan, are as intolerant of me as Nie MingJue—you refuse to spare me even a single breath of life!”

In the end, however, Jin GuangYao uses his last gasp of strength to save Lan XiChen’s life, pushing him away from death. What mattered to Jin GuangYao in the very end was not societal approval (he’d lost that beyond belief), but his own desire to live, and even more than that, even when that was taken from him, his genuine human connection to Lan XiChen. Even if Lan XiChen is just like Nie MingJue in condemning him (he’s not, and Jin GuangYao has to know that), his connection is real. And that connection is valuable enough to him to throw off comfort in his moment of death to save the other.

It’s also fitting that Lan WangJi and Wei WuXian then leave the cultivational world together, pursuing their marriage and connection as cultivation partners away from society. However, they return in the end not because they want to be a part of that world, but because they have connections to people who need them: Lan SiZhui, Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng, and Lan XiChen.

#mdzs #mdzs meta #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #founder of diabolism #the untamed #cql #chen qing ling #su she #jin zixun #jin zixuan #jin guangyao #lan xichen #wangxian #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #wen ning #lan wangji #xiyao #mxtx meta

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timeforelfnonsense · 4 years

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De Sardet Backstory Questionnaire!

Questions by @visceralcoma

What is De Sardet’s given name?

Nicoletta Nannette de Sardet

Nicoletta- a diminutive of Nicole meaning people of victory

Nannette- a diminutive of nancy/anna meaning grace.

What is the name Arelwin would have given De Sardet (assuming Petrus told them and its different than their given name)?

Aoife- meaning "beautiful, radiant".

Pronunciation: EE-fa What was their relationship with Constantin like when they were teens? What is a special heartwarming memory of your De Sardet and Constantin?

They got on very well! The Prince kept Nico away from the outside world for much of her youth so Constantin was her only friend in otherwise lonely childhood. As young children they used to make up all sorts of games too keep themselves entertained at the palace. Once they started to train with Kurt as teenagers they were able to venture out into the city more often. Nico was always the more responsible of the two getting Constintin out of all kinds of sticky situations.

As for a heartwarming memory from their teen years:

When Nico was 19 and Constantin was 16 they slipped out of the place in the middle of the night to attend a traveling carnival in Seren. They attempted to dress like common folk borrowing some servants clothing from the laundress. They were able to act like normal kids for awhile. Enjoying themselves in a way that the Prince rarely allowed them. Kurt did find them eventually and took them back home (After a little more supervised fun of his charges).

Did your De Sardet and Constantin ever have a fight? If so, about what? What was the relationship like with Princess Livie (their adoptive mother)? Did De Sardet ever have a pet growing up? What happened to it?

Perhaps a little bickering as siblings do but never anything major.

As Petrus said, the Princess raised Nico with much kindness and affection.She was dotted on and had the Princess’ whole heart. She advocated for Nico to train with Kurt along side her cousin to the prince who was against it. They were very close even as illness began to take her mind.

She had a Papillon named Florentin that she adored.

What was De Sardet’s relationship with their uncle (Constantin’s father)? Did De Sardet ever get into trouble with their mother and uncle? Were they a frequent troublemaker?

The Prince was always very hesitant to let Nico out into the city. He wanted to keep her far away from any questioning eyes. He was the root of her loneliness growing up. Nico also had quite the distaste for the way he treated Constantin as well. She didn’t get into trouble often but when she did it was normally for talking back in defense of her cousin.

Did De Sardet have many other friends?

Aside from Constantin and kind of Kurt not really. She had a very lonely childhood finding company in the pages of books.

How did they handle growing up with their mark? Did people mention it? Talk about? Treat them differently?

She grew up assuming it was just a birthmark but was very sheepish about it as a teenager. People always whispered about the Princess daughter and the strange marking on her face. The nobility always suspicious of Nico, especially those that knew the Princess late husband.

How did De Sardet respond to them?

Ever the diplomat even when she was young, Nico did her best to deal with the rumors and rudeness. However it did make her a bit insecure.

What are De Sardet’s favorite: food, color, music (genre/instrument), weather, season, and animal? Food: salmon en croute

Color: Sea Foam Green

Music: Harp

Weather: Warm but not too hot

Season: Spring

Animal: Papillons

What was their first thought of Vasco, Siora, Aphra, and Petrus when they met them?

Vasco: Oh what a strapping young captain. He could be the hero in one of my books; A brooding, sensitive, sea fairer! His crew seems to think rather highly of him and how tender of him to care so much a bout a cabin boy.

Siora: What a fierce woman and oh! She looks so much like me? I hope I can help her and her people! Perhaps she can help me understand where this mark came from...

Aphra: She might be the brightest woman I’ve ever met! And how amazing she wants to understand the natives and learn from them.

Petrus: I have very foggy memories of a kind man showing me simple magic when I was a small child. How wonderful it is to see him again. He seems distant and even a little sad despite his charming exterior.

If they had one, who was De Sardet’s first kiss and/or love?

She’s a hopeless romantic, but she has little experience. She’s stolen a kiss or two from the sons of visiting nobility but nothing serious.

Did De Sardet have any childhood/teen crushes on anyone? Describe how they realized it and how they behaved.

She did have a bit of a crush on Kurt when she was 16-17. She viewed him as a gallant knight rather than a grumpy soldier. He was the first person outside of her mother and cousin she had any kind of bond to. She was a blushing, flustered mess whenever they spared. He was flatted but he knew it was a silly girlhood crush.

What subjects were their favorite to learn while being taught by Sir De Courcillion?

She loved literature! She spent countless days curled up with books. The were her windows to the rest of the world and made her life feel a little less lonely. Her favorites were poetry and romances.

What was their relationship with Kurt initially like when he became their bodyguard and/or when he became their Master of Arms? As stated before she had a little crush on him for a bit. He was the first person other than Constantin to not treat her like she was fragile. He pushed her but she knew it was because he believed in her. She always trusted him to watch her back. He even helped her help get her cousin out of a few jams.

What was Kurt’s initial assessment of De Sardet when he began teaching them to fight?

She looked so soft and sweet. No way she’s going to be any good as a fighter but, the Princess insisted she train with the young Prince so...

She’s tougher than she looks! Still a greenblood but she’s dedicated and has a bit of natural skill.

What did De Sardet specialize into first and why?

Magic! She already had an aptitude for is as a child so it made sense.

What did they feel when they learned they were adopted and the circumstances behind it?

She had a lot of mixed feelings. She was hurt that she was lied to by her family for so long. Her heart broke for her birth mother who was taken from her home and her child. Yet she felt pride in being part of a people she had grown to admire and care deeply for.

#Nicoletta De Sardet #GreedFall #de sardet

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helsaguy · 5 years

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Best Disney Live Action to date.

This is my opinion and mine alone. You have your own. Watch out for spoilers if you haven't seen the movie yet.

What a ride. What a surprise. What a delight this movie actually is. The first promotional content did nothing, or very little to excite me about this movie. I was really gonna watch it just to see Will Smith’s work. Then good reviews started to pop out and those truly gave me hope. I still kept my expectations relatively low. But now I was excited to watch it. The idea was to watch the movie on Saturday, but stuff came up and couldn't be. Anyways, two great things happened about watching it on Sunday: First I got to watch it with more family members. I’m so happy they didn't miss this movie, you just can’t miss it. And second, I got to watch it in its original language! I'm sure the dub would have been good, but I really needed to hear the actors’ voices, the dialogues and more than anything the songs in their original language. It’s important to me.

I had my doubts about almost everyone in the cast. But in the end, if anyone made a mistake (which mistakes can totally happen and maybe they happened) I think they were so minor that I didn’t care if there was something off. The whole movie is just so good. I couldn’t care less about any mistake or off thing that could have been going on.

What I’m about to write may be weird. I felt that every character was very different to its animated counterpart. The story was pretty much the same, and of course the characters are the same (except for a couple of funny and good additions) yet they felt different to me. They felt very down-to-earth, very grounded, very fleshed out, very real. Which I think that's the whole point of these live action movies; or at least I think it should be that way.

So far I enjoyed and liked all the live actions I've seen (Maleficent, Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, The Jungle Book). But so far only Aladdin although being fair, Maleficent has it's own category has added content that served perfectly to enrich the movie and its characters. I see it that way anyway. It left me wanting to see more of them. I wanna see this gang again. Heck, I wanna watch the movie again. I really think it should have a sequel. More than anything I think this live action has established enough content to continue with another movie.

On a side note. Beauty and the Beast is my favorite animated Disney movie and if the live action doesn't make a sequel, I'm honestly not complaining. Here I am, perfectly well without a live action Beauty and the Beast sequel. And about Maleficent. I never thought it would have a sequel, and when I heard there would be one I was like: Ok. Maleficent is a whole other take on the Sleeping Beauty movie. A pretty interesting take if you ask me. And I’m curious to see how the sequel turns out. I loved Angelina Jolie’s Maleficent and I don’t mind seeing more of that. I think it'll be worth it.

About how I felt these characters were different to their animated counterparts. I think the most obvious is the Sultan. But man what a great change. I think every character was very likeable. Every good character that is. And the Sultan is so likable as a ruler and as a father. Of course he is a little flawed in those regards, but he grows and learns accordingly. I think everyone can or should understand where he’s coming from. It isn’t hard to understand his position. I'm not very comfortable comparing the live action to the animation. And I hope I won't do it (or do it much) writing further. But I think I dare say I liked this version of the Sultan better than the animated one. I just really cared more about him as a character and as a person. He even got a little action in the confrontation with Jafar and the dancing at the end of the movie. Way to go Sultan! He is a caring and loving father to Jasmine and father-daughter relationships are kind of my Achilles heel on Disney movies (Belle and Maurice, Ariel and Triton). Quite frankly, I never really cared for this father-daughter relationship with the animated movie, I'm guilty of that. But the live action version of these characters are a whole other story. The Sultan was overall a far more competent character and I loved it.

Oh boy I had so many doubts with Naomi Scott as Jasmine. But seeing her first interactions with Aladdin at the market place and at Aladdin’s street rat home, I was so charmed by her acting and charisma. Not to mention her beautiful hair and those beautiful, beatiful brown eyes of hers. Jasmine got quite the changes too, and I think most were very well done. This Jasmine is truly a ruler and leader in the making. Ready to be the first Sultana (that’s the proper term) of the land. She lacks some experience, of course, but she has all the tools she needs. I was impressed with all the knowledge this girl has at her disposal. Although, she's a Princess, of course she knows her studies. While the animated Jasmine feels rebellious “not wanting to be a Princess” and seems to ponder too much on the freedom she’s missing; live action Jasmine shows great conviction on wanting to help and better her people, her country and kingdom. She doesn't know much of Agrabah's outsides but once she gets out there and sees the market place full of people working and coexisting, she sees the community that lives under the Sultan's care and understands that those people are what make Agrabah so precious. Even from her balcony Jasmine gets to see her people's lives and how much they deserve to live happily and without fear of wars and losing loved ones (like she and the Sultan lost Jasmine's mother). Agrabah was done so lively that it’s easy to see why Jasmine wants so badly to be the next one on taking care of the kingdom and its people. She wants to make them happy and prosperous. Again, she is very likable. And most importantly, if some think these changes are to push some agenda (I thought that at first), well, if they are at least they don't feel forced. I think all these changes added a lot of depth and character to the character. To me they made Jasmine richer and a better role model.

Again someone that surprised me. Mena Massoud’s Aladdin turned out to be quite refreshing to me. In all honesty I wish I could explain better why I think this Aladdin differs from the animated one, but I lack the words. What I value the most of this interpretation is the simplicity and humility in character. He is more aware of himself. And while he does say the line “When you don’t have anything, you have to act as if you own everything.”, this guy doesn't feel pretentious at all. He is still very much down-to-earth and it shows greatly when he becomes Prince Ali. At least for the first part. I loved how awkward and/or insecure he is as Prince Ali during the Prince Ali musical number and when meeting the Sultan and Princess Jasmine. That scene is truly hilarious, with all the right jokes and all the right faux pas. Then there's the moment when the Prince gig gets to his head and is so believable how he gets lost in that lie and that facade, that it made me feel bad for him. In a pitiful way. Whereas in the animated movie I felt Aladdin was being a jerk to Genie and it made me think he deserved to be left alone. I definitely sympathize better with this Aladdin. Great chemistry between him and Jasmine from start to finish. Also I think it was very adorable to have Jasmine pretend to be the Princess' servant when she meets Aladdin for the first time. It made the blooming relationship more endearing and natural. Very appreciated. The animated movie honestly only makes me care about the Genie, but this live action truly made me care about every character. The good ones that is.

I still think Marwan Kenzari’s voice doesn’t fit Jafar at all. But this Jafar is still a good villain. I think he felt more cold blooded to me. He had a little background that benefited the character, not like they tried to do with Gaston on the Beauty and the Beast live action. And this depth not only made Jafar a little more interesting, it helped Aladdin's character as well. Jafar's past as a thief not only gives reason for his ambitions and goals, it’s also a good example of what our hero Aladdin could have become if he kept on the abusive/ambitious path of power. I think that provided quite the scare in thinking that if Jafar went through this manipulative, power hungry way; that could very well happen to Aladdin. This Jafar lacks the animated one’s theatrics but I still consider him a descent villain.

Very much like Robin Williams’ Genie is the heart and soul of the animated classic. Will Smith’s Genie is the heart and soul of this live action. Hands down my favorite character in the whole movie. Robin (R.I.P.) must be very proud with everything Will did. He was so charismatic, sympathetic, funny, charming, such a lovable character I swear to God. No one will ever convince me that this Genie wasn't perfect in every way, shape, or form. I loved how at the party in the palace he kept telling Ali to not ruin it for him. He's been trapped inside a lamp for thousands of years and he really wanted to enjoy a good party. The character with the most heart in the film and with powerful lessons to teach. Two of those will stay with me forever. The first, and I believe the intentional one, is that no matter how much riches you possess; no money, or jewels, or power will ever satisfy you nor make you happy. I wish more people in the world would see and understand that... And second, and this is I think more my interpretation than the movie's intention, to be human is what makes someone truly free. Although "being human" is such a vast term. I hope you understand what I mean. Anyways, what a freaking powerful message. This Genie wishes freedom. But that freedom isn't just to not be his master's slave or the lamp's slave. This Genie wishes to be human; he doesn't want to be an all powerful being for all eternity. And something happened in this movie that helped in a very sweet way to make this Genie even more human.

And that is Dalia. What a revelation this character is. Best addition to a live action adaptation ever. To be honest when I first heard of the character I really thought this live action would be ruined from the start. Who was this Dalia? Why Jasmine needed a handmaiden? Why was she white? Truth is Dalia is a much needed character. Also Nasim Pedrad who portrays Dalia was born on Iran to Iranian parents, and that made me more comfortable about her as a character in this movie. Dalia is a much welcomed addition to the colorful cast. Her character feels organic in this well known tale. She's not only Jasmine’s handmaiden but is also a true friend and her loyal confidant. And not to offend my favorite tiger, but the Princess really needed some human friend to talk to. Sure Dalia is a servant, but never once she complains about her place; even if it shows that on the inside she would like to enjoy more of the outside world as well as the Princess and have a life of her own. Dalia is quite insightful, she knows the Princess very well, she's very funny, and charming. We get to see how much and how well she cares for Jasmine and quickly becomes an endearing character. That scene where she pretends to be the Princess in favor of Jasmine being able to play the handmaiden character with Aladdin a little longer was incredibly funny. Not just she makes Jasmine a more well round character, she helps the Genie as well with their little romance. Such good content with these two. One of my favorite scenes was when the Genie wanted to ask Dalia out on an evening stroll and he, much like Prince Ali meeting the Princess, got all awkward and even mentions that Aladdin's behavior is contagious. Obviously he knows how to treat women right, with delicacy and respect. But also he's been imprisoned for so long that it isn't hard to see how he would be a bit clumsy when trying to court a girl he really felt infatuated with. Their interactions are just really sweet and charming.

The best part happens when Aladdin wishes for Genie's freedom and he does become human. And it is because of the lamp's very specific instructions that I believe a message for this movie is how being human makes us free beings. When making a wish Genie can't stress enough to Aladdin that he has to be very specific with his words, there's a lot of grey areas in wishes and he must wish carefully. Aladdin's third wish is of course to set Genie free, but he mentions nothing about making the Genie human. Still, the moment Aladdin wishes for Genie to be free he is turned human. And that's a very powerful message, even more so these days. It is the lessons this movie shows through Genie that truly capture the heart of the movie. Another example is when human Genie at the end of the movie asks for another chance to court Dalia. The affection is very much returned by the handmaiden and while she says that she is new at this dating stuff, she says that she accepts and that she wants to get married, have kids, and a boat. And all of that actually happens. And this is one more powerful message that I chose to interprete this movie tried to tell: even without being an all powerful being, humans are able to make their dreams/wishes come true. Genie and Dalia do get married, they have two kids a boy and a girl like she wanted, and they get a small boat like he wanted. Humans can make their wishes come true even without some magical help and that's Disney at it's best.

Let’s talk a little about the “sidekicks”. I enjoyed Abu being less caricaturistic. I know people adore Abu’s personality in the animation. But I think since this Aladdin was more serene in attitude, this Abu accompanied him very well. I adored Rajah. I'm very happy he showed up as much as he did. I honestly thought he wouldn't have as much screen time. I love his protectiveness over Jasmine most of all, but I also appreciate his good judge of character. Carpet was perfect. I think he suffered no change at all from the animated movie. So full of personality. I liked very much how during conversations the Genie would include Carpet and Abu into the chat. It made the monkey and carpet feel all the more real. Also, it hurt to see Carpet all torn when he was trying to escape giant Iago. And speaking of Iago. One of my favorite villainous sidekicks in Disney movies. This Iago is so not like the animated one. But that isn’t a bad thing. This bird looked creepy, and while it lacked all of Gilbert Gottfried’s personality, it made up in competence. This Iago is as cold blooded as his master, quite the spy, and a very effective giant boss fight. Thank you so much for keeping him a talking parrot. Very pleased with Alan Tudyk‘s work. And even if Iago's role is minor in the live action, he still serves very well his purpose.

Let's wrap this up with the music! Overall I loved it. Sure there are weak moments, but I think that didn't damage the movie at all. The film was just oh so entertaining on its own. Jasmine's new song Speechless is quite good. But the reprise was a little poorly executed visually-wise. I also think it sounds too pop-ish for it's own good. One Jump Ahead was weak in comparison to the original. The singing was pretty good, the music well "updated", but Aladdin was too relaxed walking here and there instead of running for his life. I liked a lot that Jasmine was part of the scene though. And congratulations to the woman with the "Still I think he's rather tasty" line, what a voice, and she was gorgeous. A Whole New World is very much the same and that's good. Both actors did great singing, Naomi's voice is incredible and Mena really surprised me as a good singer. That song doesn't need to be touched and they didn't touch it. Some may complain that Carpet didn't take Aladdin and Jasmine around the world, but I don't think it was needed. This Jasmine cared too much for her land that it was very sweet of Aladdin and Carpet to take Jasmine around Agrabah. She even admitted that Prince Ali knows more of Agrabah in the "few days" he's been to the kingdom than she has known all her life. It was fitting in my opinion to keep the ride to Agrabah. What was leaked of the Prince Ali performance doesn't make the whole thing justice. Sure it isn't as big scaled as the animated one, but is still a good show. And Oh My God WILL SMITH DID THE IN DRAG GAG!!!!!! I completely thought they wouldn't do it and Jesus Christ I laughed so hard, and was so happy they did it!!! He looked great, it was so funny. That alone made the song a success to me I swear. I couldn't ask for more. A Friend Like Me is another hit. A lot of detail, energy, I think the special effects were great. My favorite song from the animated movie and one of my top favorites in this live action. I think the new adaptation that takes the cake is Arabian Nights. Loved the longer lyrics, the visuals, and Will Smith being the one to sing it. We have Will Smith portraying a fisherman at the start of the movie. Then two adorable children ask their father to tell a story, and they prefer he sings the story. At first the fisherman says no singing since it's been a long day, but he soon indulge his kids and begins singing the opening number. The camera goes over Agrabah, we get glimpses of the characters in the tale. The Sultan in the palace, the Princess by he fountain with her tiger, a somber figure before the Cave of Wonders. We hear of the diamond in the rough requirement and go back to Agrabah. The way everything is presented feels so fairy tale like. And the opening number gets even better when right at the end we get the hint and confirmation that the fisherman and the kids are actually Genie and his and Dalia's kids. In all honesty I thought Will Smith was playing a whole different character with he fisherman. And even though we see the fisherman's wife from he back on the boat nd we hear her voice, I couldn't guess it was them till the end of the movie. Needless to say that revelation was fantastic.

I apologize for any typos. I know there's stuff I didn't write about like the couple of dance numbers going on, but they were great. I loved how gorgeous Jasmine looked at the palace's party. Her dancing was mesmerizing too. Hooray for the Jasmine and Aladdin wedding at the end! I made this long enough and whatever topic you wanna talk about, hit my ask box anytime.

Best Disney live action to date everyone. Highly recommend.

#aladdin #disney #aladdin 2019 #live action #aladdin live action #dfg tag

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092219archive · 5 years

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oH IF UR STILL TAKING THAT SONG ASK THING-- bloodsport by raleigh ritchie

Send me a song and I’ll tell you which f/o it makes me think of

I LISTENED TO IT AND OHHH MY GODDD

chi, you slammed the “what and how eren envisions their selfships to be like.” absolutely decimated the head of the nail, and the entire thing while you’re at it. i was struggling to decide whether this was an ephraim or ozymandias song (as they are my main s/os), but certain verses helped me decide that it was definitely an ozy kind of song! but idate could also... be a choice for a song like this... another time-

immediately, the song starts off with “nothing is perfect but your; imperfections are quaint” which stabbed me in the heart when i listened to that, because... well, i selfship to cope with insecurities and life issues, you know? something that i continue to struggle with are the many flaws i have, and it’s difficult to accept myself when i know things are wrong with me. i always get thoughts of “i can play around with ozy/eren because eren’s a flexible and fictional character, just like ozy. but i can’t play around with ozy/real eren, because real eren is kind of gross.” but i guess something i’ve always appreciated are people that can be patient with me, because i’m a double-edged sword a lot of the times. i’m lucky to have people in my life that are willing to stick around with me, and also people who encourage me to do better.

ozy being patient is a weird thought, but not impossible. that’s because everything is already his, and if it’s not his, you’re wrong. it’s his. manchild. i imagine that... if ozy loves eren (i use “eren” as a temporary placeholder for actual me right now, because writing “ozy and i/me and ozy” is making me so unbelievably uncomfortable), i feel like he’d be patient with eren and their gross habits and behaviors, their unhealthy reclusive attitude, their crude language... eren is you could say, “already his” considering his high status -- just needs a bit of... polishing, refinement. maybe some major fixes here and there.

“and your love is worth it; and for that i will wait” is something i’m a bit iffy on though, because it’s really difficult for me to stay committed? it’s... very inconsistent -- how long i stick around and such. i haven’t been in a romantic relationship under good conditions, so i can’t really say that i’d be a “super devoted person” since i don’t have experience. i like to imagine that ozy would be able to recognize that maybe eren was someone that could love in a way that was unique, something that hits you when you least expect it, or maybe even when they’re gone. and so he wants to keep them around, even if there’s a bunch of daily missions he has to complete and side quests he has to fulfill to get what exactly he wants.

i do see myself as a chore, and that’s because i feel like a chore. i can play stupid on purpose, or it can be unintentional. i can play “hard to get” because i know what the other person wants, or i don’t. and sometimes when you’re not looking, i can leave but i won’t disappear completely. if someone and i don’t have a routine schedule, then things’ll fall apart on my end. there’s a lot to watch for. but thinking of ozy being able to push through all of that, to see past those habits and thoughts i get, it’s... really comforting. he kind of... knows that i’m more than what i make myself to be. you’re worth every second, kind of thing... yells softly

“i drive you crazy but you; always return” can either be “eren’s sept. 2018 - apr. 2019 ozy slowburn era,” or it can be scenarios of ozy “spicing” things up to keep things interesting. to get closer to eren, he keeps things unpredictable and hits them when they’re weakest, but i don’t mean that in a bad way. ozy would keep eren on their toes, and when they’re expecting something from him, he doesn’t provide. he keeps them guessing, and when eren wants answers, they’ll get their answers. and he knows that they will. if he keeps doing what he does (and he will), then eren will always be falling into whatever card he plays next. it’s a cycle that they’ll never win, but they’re determined to get what they want just as much as ozy is.

“if i fall short; if i break rank... // i am all yours;... i’m on all fours, willingly down” shows just how set ozy is on making sure he’s showing his devotion to whatever the two can have. he knows there’s some chemistry brewing, and he wants to ensure that [chemical] equilibrium. the wording isn’t something he would exactly say, but his motives show more what he means. it’s like in some of his voice lines where he says, “me, accompanying you to save humanity? wrong! it is you, who is accompanying me to save humanity!” it’s not really possessive speech or actions, but a reminder of the two’s positions when you consider him into the equation.

but by the end of the day, this is ultimately a master/servant relationship. if something he does boosts their fragile ego and it benefits him, then you can almost bet that he will dive right in. a strong master means an even stronger servant. he won’t really “lower” himself, but he’ll probably raise eren to a status nearly as high as his own. buuut, not necessarily. i’m having a difficult time putting what i mean into words 💦

“loving you is a bloodsport; fighting in a love war” is the title of the song, which is nice! but i got some analyzing and thinking to do-

i feel like, with the circumstances that eren and ozy are in, it’s really difficult to find time to “love” each other properly. rather, eren can’t love him back properly. they have to save humanity and fix the singularities, they have to work on saving themselves (as cheesy as it sounds), and getting other servants involved in the saving of humanity is already terrifying enough. loving someone with these burdens on their shoulders, especially something they can’t carry, is a struggle because god knows what will happen if you step too close.

but the thing with ozy is that, he’s spoken to gods. hell, he’s the pharaoh. what’s a master of chaldea to him? only someone he’ll conquer, just like anyone else that stepped on his path to getting what he desires.

“although you love me, sometimes we meet. things can get ugly, but we’re still a team” is something that’s like... they probably get into disagreements about the correct choice, or course they should take. what exactly is bad for eren, what exactly is good for ozy -- but they’re accommodating for each other’s needs. just, differently. and right after those lyrics, it’s “we are an army; the brakes are within // but that’s why we’re stronger; and that’s how we’ll win” which portrays exactly how i imagine things should be. they’re not going to get along 100% well at first. they’ll click, maybe, but learning about their differences, both obvious ones and those less so, help them build on each other to better themselves and achieve what they want to achieve. like i’ve been mentioning -- he knows there’s something going on, but he wants to make sure that it works. it’s like one of those symbiotic relationships in biology, or something.

“it’s not what i’m in love for; i know but i don’t know if you can help it // baby, i’m just being selfish” these also have big ozy vibes!! maybe he wasn’t actually considering on falling in love because everything is of equal value to him. it’s not like he liked the master of chaldea when they came strolling into his pyramid anyways. maybe he wanted to establish a strong master/servant bond because that’s one of the primary rules of the holy grail war (except this is the big one, and humanity is on the line), because he realizes that he’s being held back by something, which would presumably be eren.

and then he sees this weird, damaged magus and he takes interest, because this person looks just like moses for whatever reason -- and maybe it was their eyes, or certain emotions they showed -- and he invests more time into them, wondering just how and why he made that connection in the first place, and he tries to pursue something that doesn’t want to be chased, and he sees the blood and the cracks on their hands and self, and he wonders just how, exactly, did he get where he did, but he’s already so far down the rabbit hole that he keeps going and going into territory that’s dangerous and prohibited. but this is the same man that conquered leaders and land, and created structure for his people, and has had poems and movies made about him.

he’s already dedicated. he’s been that way since the beginning of time, and quite literally. there’s no reason to back down and out.

“i’ll curse the day that they return; with a smile on my face; as their heads hit the floor” is... well, excluding the cursing part, but this is how ozy is in f/go 💦 he’s always smiling! he’s always having fun!! the nerve!!!

“what i’m tryna say is; i’ll protect you ‘till the day i’ll meet my maker // so don’t fight me now; ‘cause you might need me later” kind of makes me feel like he could be referring to the database he comes from, and how he’ll be with you to get some answers from the king of mages. “i’ll poke fun at you, but i’ll stick around, especially for your final fight” thing... uuuううううー

#long post #thank you so much for the ask chi!!#and this song's so good i'm so weark #chiliechii #eren chats

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romanosgirl1978 · 6 years

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Die for You

So this is the medieval Bucky that I was talking about. Its written in the third person which is a it new for me (hope you guys still like it) and I’m not too happy with it but I did my best. Really hoping you guys like it and Im currently working on a second part to Thunder Rolls thanks to encouragement from @siriusement and a song from my playlist. Enjoy!!

Pairing- Bucky/Reader

Word Count- 6,355

Warnings- Angst, Swearing, Rumlow being an ass

Also this kind of sets the mood for the fic and is where I got the inspiration for the fic.

She watched helplessly as they drug his lifeless body away from the hanging post they had set up for his execution, unable to take her eyes away from the scene. She almost couldn't make out his face, the tears blurring her vision and her vantage point from the castle not helping either. She hadn't been allowed to attend. Her betrothed having kept her from going by any means necessary.

Rumlow had always been envious of her closeness with James, more so when they had both approached her father for his blessing to marry. When he had agreed, they had been elated, but that's when everything had gone downhill.

She had asked to tell Rumlow, hoping that by telling him herself he might understand. That she could spin it so that he would see this as a blessing to find his own love, the way she had with James.

Despite what she told him and his seeming willingness to let her go, he couldn't get passed the obsession. To have her, the power over the kingdom that would come with it if he had married her as planned.

Neither one was keen on the arrangement when it had first arisen. She because she wanted to marry for love. Him because he thought her too plain for a man of his standing, ranking or otherwise.

But she grew to tolerate, and he grew to obsess. She had rejected his every offer; her wit was more than his and her tongue quick to fire back after every comment he made.

She became a challenge to him. A prize to be sought after and won. But in his chase, she grew to find comfort in another. A knight of his guard. James Barnes.

It started with the usual pleasantries. But quickly grew.

James could not bring himself to hide all of the laughs and snickers with each of her rebuttals, no matter how it would get him punished later that night. With each of her comments he found himself liking her more and more, just as his master had, but less in a prize and more of an equal.

There were very few women that would stand up to a man, to talk back. It was something that many women feared to be judged harshly on.

But (Y/N) never seemed to care what others thought. Just wanting to be able to be herself, something she know that Lord Rumlow would never allow her to be. She knew that if he had her, he would try to break, or rather mold her into the perfect wife, the perfect, obedient woman that all nobbles seemed to crave. That was something she would never allow happen to her.

James found her will and sharp wit enticing, eventually seeking her out when she wasn't with his lord and teasing her, smiling and laughing when her tongue would turn on him, quickly putting him in his place.

His smile is what first pulled her in. There was a mischievousness to it that made her feel like a kid again, pranking the servants around the castle and watching it all unfold from around the corner. The secret suppressed smiles and laughter when she was caught and made to apologize only to do it again later that same day.

The playfulness and risks that hid behind his smile made her fall and the adventure and trust in her eyes made him fall.

They snuck around for many months, while the lord still courted her, and they tried all they could to keep it hidden.

A talk in the stables late one night gave them both away.

One of the stable boys had come in to put away the last horse and found them laying in one of the stalls, (Y/N) resting her back against James' chest while his arms wrapped around her waist, his chin on her shoulder as she looked up at him.

Both of their heads snapped to the boy when the stall door opened and the quickly jumped apart, tossing the boy 4 silver pieces for his silence.

But one look between them and they knew they would have to come back down to reality.

They couldn't be together if they didn't have her father's blessing. They would either have to come clean with him or stop seeing each other.

So, they agreed to disagree. She wanted her happiness, but he wanted her to have a promising future.

That night, in the threshold of her room, he broke her heart. Told her that he no longer wanted to do this, that she was only a passing interest and that he had had his fill of her.

In that one moment, heart shattered and laying in front of her, she did something she swore she would never do.

She begged him. Begged him to stay with her, told him that she loved only him and would not be able to ever be happy with someone else.

He only shook his head and slowly backed away, telling her someone else would love her and she would learn to love again, but that it couldn't be with him.

He turned his back on her and walked away, hating himself for hurting her so, but believed he would only cause more pain had he stayed.

(Y/N) cried that night, soaking her pillow and blankets in her tears and couldn't bring herself to sleep but for a few minutes at a time. Dreams, plagued of him, only brought more tears to her eyes and woke her with an even more broken heart.

The next few weeks followed with both of them walking around in a dazed stupor, eyes rimmed red and the darkest of circles under their eyes.

No tonics, ales, or potions were strong enough to help them sleep.

Finally, her father pulled her to the side one day, asking her what it could be that kept her from sleep and happiness. With tears already in the corners of her eyes she couldn't help but break yet again, telling her father of her affair and of the one she truly loved.

With this in his mind and his daughter's happiness in his heart he took a trip to Lord Rumlow's and asked to meet with James, claiming that he was meeting with all Captains of the noble guard.

Rumlow had no choice but to allow him and King (F/N) took James to the side as well, asking about his love to his daughter and why he hurt her so. After hearing James’ tale and insecurities, he asked for him to come back to the palace with him.

The trip back was filled with silence and nervousness, mostly on James' part, hoping that he would not have to see you, guilt still weighing heavily on his heart.

The king took James up to his personal library and sent for his daughter as well.

James and (Y/N) both froze as soon as they saw each other, taking in the others appearance and feeling as if they were looking into a mirror when their eyes met, quickly looking away.

(F/N) sat them both down and said that if they still wanted to be together than he would allow it, but only if they agreed and if Rumlow was told by one of them.

They looked at him, both equally as speechless, as he walked out of the room, leaving them quite alone.

“So… you told your father,” James starts quietly, looking down at his calloused hands.

She nods. “I did. He asked me what was keeping me from sleeping… and I just…” her voice shakes, as do her hands.

He looks to her quickly and hesitantly reaches out, covering her hands with his own.

Her eyes flit from their hands to his face and the shaking stops.

“It all came spilling out,” she admits. “About what we had… the connection that I felt. And that you left. I didn't know he would go to see you. I only thought he would ask and dismiss my troubles.”

“He must have known I felt the connection too,” James sighs. “That I was lying when I left you.”

“Why would you lie? Did you think that I didn't feel something for you?”

He shakes his head. “I knew you did. And it scared me what that could become. You would have settled for me when you could have a promising future with my lord. I didn't want you to do that for someone like me.”

“Why would that matter? It's you that I love. Not him. He only sees the power he could take from me and the wife he wants to force me to be.” She watches as his jaw tightens at her words. “But see that there, you want none of that from me. So, tell me, honest and true. Do you want me? Or did you only want something from me?”

His gaze is intense as he looks at her. “I want both,” he tells her honestly. “I want your heart and your time, your love and your body. But I want everything that makes you, you. Every sharp piece of wit and every sarcastic answer you give to the stupidest questions.” His hands slide up her arms and to her shoulders as he kneels in front of her. “I also want to give you everything that I have and make a proper life for you. You have had my heart, piece by piece with every comeback to every taunt that I threw at you for those first few weeks, you have had me since before I knew that I was in love with you, and I want you to know that you have my life in your hands, because I would die to protect you. I am yours, completely. And I would like for you to be mine as well.”

That same day, (Y/N) rode back with James, hand in hand, and told Rumlow that she would not be marrying him because she loved another and didn't think it fair.

He asked who had stolen her heart and she shook her head, refusing to answer lest it get James in trouble, telling him only someone she had met while wandering the palace halls when she couldn't sleep.

Rumlow nodded, seeming to be bowing out with grace but called in James the moment her carriage had been pulled through the gates, asking what the King had wanted to see him for.

James told him naught of what had happened, only that the king was asking of the squad he had been training, attempting to recruit for the royal guard. Rumlow waved him off quickly, knowing that there was more to what his knight was telling him, noticing the joy that seemed to be now radiating off of James, different from the earlier despair. He recalls noticing the same from (Y/N), but was not able to fit the pieces together until he finds letters passed between the both of them.

Enraged by his discovery, he starts to plan against the marriage the two had proposed, knowing that the reason must be something that the king can't just push to the side. Knowing that the only way to stop it would be to have the king forbid the marriage completely and banish or kill James.

Only that would be able to stop the two of you.

For weeks Rumlow planned, paying to find a master forger and stealing a handful of James' letters to (Y/N), needing the samples of his handwriting.

He tasked the man to write letters talking of treason against the crown and of plotting to marry (Y/N) just to get to her fortune and planning to kill her to keep his position as king once she died.

A few more weeks and several hundred gold pieces lighter, he rode to the king late into the night and demanded to see him, claiming an emergency.

Reluctantly the king went to meet him, taking the letters from Rumlow but not quite believing him.

Rumlow told him all he needed was to take one of James' letters and see if he could match the handwriting, promising that it would and saying that he wished it wasn't true as well. James had always been so loyal and never seemed to be the type to plot against the king or (Y/N) like this, Rumlow told him. He said his heart ached for (Y/N) and hoped to keep her from finding out just yet, but knowing she would find out eventually.

The king waved Rumlow back home, promising to look into it and praying that the both of them were wrong.

Rumlow muttered that he wished with everything he had he was wrong as well and pretended to leave with a heavy sigh and an even heavier heart, smirking the moment he climbed onto his horse and rode back.

The next morning Rumlow threatened James. Telling him to break off the engagement with (Y/N) or he would force him to.

Not knowing what Rumlow had done, and thinking himself innocent James told his master no. His love for (Y/N) was too strong and too pure, knowing that neither should be happy if they were parted.

Rumlow waved him away, knowing that he would not be able to change his mind but warning James that he would pay a terrible price for not doing as he said.

When the morning courier came with a letter for (Y/N) the king intercepted it, promising to give it to his daughter when she awoke.

He took it to his study and laid it out among the letters that Rumlow had brought last night, analyzing every curve and slant of James' letters and finding them to be a match… just as Rumlow had promised he would.

Dismayed and hurting for what would happen with his daughter, he sealed the letter back up and knocked on (Y/N)'s door, letter in hand and heart in his stomach.

He must be the one to tell her, but he didn't know how. Not without completely destroying her.

The king was pulled away from his thoughts when his daughters smiling face appeared at the door.

With a tight smile he handed her the letter telling her it was from James.

She took it greatfully and he knew he couldn't break her. She was too happy and too in love. She would have denied every accusation thrown at him without hesitation and would defend him to her last breath.

The king sighed heavily and told her he had business to discuss with a few of the Lord's today and he might not be back before dark. He kissed the top of her head and left to get dressed, sending someone after his horse.

He deliberated the whole way to Rumlow's and still couldn't think of a good way to bring this up to his daughter.

As he arrived he waved off all of the servants, heading straight to the training yard and pulling James away, ordering him to mount his horse and follow him back to the palace.

A bit apprehensive but not wanting to defy an order from his king, James did as he was told while Rumlow watched with a victorious smirk.

James and the king rode back to the castle in tense silence, heading straight to the cells the minute they dismounted.

James wearily followed the king into one of the cells before speaking.

“Your majesty, why have you brought me here?” He asks.

“Treason.” (F/N) tells him simply. “I have found someone who plans to commit treason against me and my daughter.”

James immediately straightens. “What would you have me do?”

“Tell the truth. Stop whatever has been planned.”

“Of course, my king. Do you know who the traitor is?”

“With a heavy heart. I do. I just want to know why?” He looks at James pleadingly and holds his hands behind his back.

“I… I don't understand sir. You're asking as if I were the…” his eyes widen as it sinks in. Rumlow's threat, the kings withdrawn nature. “I would never. Not against you and certainly not (Y/N).”

“I have letters that prove otherwise,” the king states.

James stands up, shoulders back. “I am not a traitor. This is all Rumlow. He was jealous and wanted revenge for being rebuffed. He's trying to frame me.”

The king shakes his head and steps out of the cell, closing the door behind him. “The letters are in your hand writing. I wish that this wasn't true. For (Y/N/)'s sake. But I'm afraid there is nothing that proves otherwise. And with that, I hereby charge you with treason of the highest order and sentence you to death.”

James wraps his hands around the bars. “(F/N) please, I'm not a traitor. I wouldn't do that to (Y/N). I love her. Please, believe me,” he begs.

“I wish I could James. I really do.”

For a week, James sat in his cell, his only visitor the guard that would bring him meals. And for that week, (Y/N) grew more and more worried over her love, sending letter after letter, begging her father to visit Rumlow's estate to check on him. Her father said no, forbidding her from going and said that she was better off forgetting about James, not telling her of what really happened. Not yet at least.

At the end of the week (Y/N) snuck out through her window, climbing down the rose trellis that grew along the outer wall. She quickly made her way to the stables and mounted her horse, riding along the edge of the woods to the Rumlow estate.

She rode through the gates and quietly knocked on Rumlow’s study window.

Alarmed at the appearance of the girl he jumped but quickly let her in, asking her what she was doing at his property so late and by herself.

She dismissed all of his questions quickly and asked to speak to James.

He sighed and gently led her to one of the couches, sitting her down and explaining what he found and how he brought it to her father to look at, apologizing for having to tell her this way.

“He said that he would tell you, and also that…” he stops and looks at her sadly.

“And what? What else is there?” She asks quietly.

“He has also reinstated our original engagement,” he lies. “He thought it would be best if you still married someone that you knew well.”

She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. But I don’t believe that. James isn’t… he isn’t a traitor. He wouldn’t… wouldn’t do that to me. He loves me,” she whispers to herself, tearing up at the mere thought of James living in a cell.

Rumlow puts an arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his chest, letting her cry. “I’m so sorry. But I don’t think your father would have personally come here to collect him and put him away if he had any proof otherwise. Your father does love you, and he wouldn’t hurt you on purpose or on a speculation. He only wants to protect you.”

Her hands clench in his shirt and she lets him hold her as everything sink in, knowing that he had to be right. (F/N) wouldn’t just take him over hearsay or a rumor. He had to have had some kind of proof, but that didn’t make this any easier for her.

“I don’t think the king is allowing him visitors,” Rumlow tells her gently, but perhaps I could talk him into a quick meeting. So that you could say your goodbyes, I don’t think that it would be wise for you to be at his… well his execution.”

She take a few deep, calming breaths and pulls away from him. “Do you really think you could convince him to let me see James?”

“I might be able to. But I have a feeling you would have worked something out one way or the other.”

She nods. “Yes. I suppose I would have now that I know where he is. But it would mean a great deal if I didn’t have to go behind my father’s back… again.”

Kissing the top of her head, Rumlow leads her to the front door and sends her on her way, instructing one of his other guards to follow behind her to make sure she got back to the palace safely.

The next morning Rumlow headed to the palace and asked for another meeting with the king, pleading on (Y/N)’s behalf to see her now lost love, thinking that it might give her closure and that she might move on to love him one day.

The king reluctantly agrees and sends for his daughter after Rumlow heads down to the cells.

He can’t help but smirk as James sits with his back against the corner of the wall.

“Well well, all that love and those promises are certainly being put to good use now aren’t they,” Rumlow taunts.

James glares up at him. “Was this you?”

He laughs. “Oh no. This was all you Barnes. Couldn’t leave her alone and now you’ve committed treason.”

James bolts up and reaches through the bars at Rumlow.

Rumlow laughs and grabs James’ wrist, pulling him closer. “You’re not getting out of here Barnes. And (Y/N) will be married to me. So why don’t you listen and make this easier for everyone.”

“You won’t get away with this. (Y/N) will never believe it.”

“She will never have to. Only the king must. And now that the doubt is in his head it will never wash away. (Y/N) won’t be able to convince him and he won’t let her marry you. She’s promised to me again. And if you want me to treat her well then I suggest you listen and go along with my plan. You’ll be able to stay alive, but very far from here. And I’ll take good care of your girl. How’s that sound to you?”

They both quiet when they hear footsteps echoing across the walls from the stairway.

“Better make a decision quickly Barnes. She’s getting closer and my offer ends when she is in sight.”

James grits his teeth and gives a curt nod, glaring at Rumlow.

“Fine. But I swear if I find out you haven’t kept your word I will come back and I will not let your death be a quick one,” he growls out.

Rumlow gives him a winning smile and a dangerous wink before his face morphs into a mask of anger and sadness just in time for (Y/N) to reach the landing.

“I can't believe that you would do something like this James, I trusted you the most.”

James hangs his head again, knowing he wont be able to handle the look of betrayal (Y/N)’s eyes would be sure to show.

Rumlow turns to her and puts a comforting arm around her shoulders, gritting his teeth when she shrugs it off, keeping her arms wrapped around her middle and staying two paces away from the bars.

“Could you give us a moment please, Lord Rumlow?” She asks, voice cold and even.

“I don't think that would be wise your high-”

“I do not care what is wise,” she spits, glaring at him. “I’d like to have a private word with the man who thought he could betray my father and I and get away with it.”

Rumlow can't help but shrink back in shock at her words, but bows. “Of course. I’ll just be at the top of the stairs.”

She waits until she knows he's far enough away before walking closer, falling to her knees in front of the cell, reaching in to touch him.

“James, what has happened?” She asks softly, all coldness from earlier gone.

His shoulders tense as he fights himself to keep from reaching out to her as well.

“Have they not told you?” He asks, his voice now as hers was. “I was planning to commit treason. To kill you once you had the throne and rule over the kingdom.”

She shakes her head, eyes tearing up. “No. I don't believe that. Not for one second. You love me, you have no issues in the way my father runs our kingdom. You wouldn't do that. James, you know I could never believe that about you. Why lie and tell me that it's so? That all these accusations are true.”

He shakes his head, hating the way he hears her voice waver and the way he can practically hear the sadness welling up in her chest.

“Please, stop asking me to explain my actions. I won't tell you. I can’t,” he grits out.

She takes a deep breath and reaches into a hidden pocket in her dress, pulling out a small metal key and slipping it into the lock of the cell, quietly pulling the door open and stepping inside.

James looks at her as the hinges quietly squeak open, eyes wide and darting to the stairwell.

“What are you doing? You're going to get in trouble,” he hisses.

She rolls her eyes, “for someone claiming to want to kill me and take over my throne, you seem awfully worried about me getting into minor trouble.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“And this is how I know you're not a criminal. You see, anyone else, would have lured me in here, knocked me out or killed me, and escaped by now. But here you are, standing in the middle of the cell, arms still by your sides, and you are making absolutely no effort to leave. Now, will you please, finally tell me the truth?” She begs, carefully sliding her hand across his wrist and into his hand, intertwining their fingers.

His eyes pinch shut and he squeezes her hand tightly in his own.

(Y/N)’s hands come up and brush against his cheek and across his jaw as she whispers his name, standing directly in front of him and dipping her head so her forehead rests against his.

He bites both of his lips and takes a deep, stuttering breath as he cups the back of her neck.

“This is the only way to keep you safe,” he whispers slowly. “He’s threatened to hurt you in the most unimaginable ways and I can't let that happen. I wouldn't be able to handle it if you were hurt because I decided to be selfish and keep you for myself. Please (Y/N). Try to move on, to still be happy with your life,” he pleads.

“How can I move on from the man that I’m in love with? How can I be happy with a life that you're not in?” She questions, tears falling down her cheeks as her voice trembles with each word.

James opens his eyes and looks down at her, his heart breaking. “Try. For me. We cant be together. Not anymore.”

She shakes her head defiantly. “I don't believe that. I can't. And neither should you.”

He kisses her fiercely one last time, both hands skimming down her body and pushing her slowly against the bars as her arms wrap around his neck and her body arches into him.

After a few more moments he pulls away and sighs. “I’m sorry (Y/N). Truly.”

With that he moves her a few inches over and shoves her out of the cell, slamming the door shut as she stumbles back and falls, the key that was once in her pocket now grasped firmly in his palm.

Rumlow sprints down the steps when he hears the door slam and his eyes widen when he sees (Y/N) on the ground, tears in her eyes and falling down her face.

“Why?” She keeps asking, eyes locked on James.

Rumlow reaches down and gently takes both of her elbows, pulling her to her feet and leading her back up the steps while her eyes glaze over and her heart shatters.

For the next three days that lead up to James’ execution, (Y/N) stays locked away in her room with all of his letters that he sent and the ones that were forged, looking over every letter, trying to find some inconsistency that might prove his innocence and allow him to live, but whomever had forged them was a master and a perfectionist. There was no way that she would be able to find anything in the short amount of time he had left so she turned to drinking her sorrows away on the final day, agreeing with Rumlow that she should not attend James’ hanging.

By the time that he was to be hanged, (Y/N) had already drank four tankards of ale and was sitting in the window that overlooked the courtyard, the exact courtyard that they had set up the staging area.

She watched as the guards and builders scrambled around setting everything up and as the people started to swarm into the area to watch the execution.

As the time drew nearer more guards were placed around the perimeter in case James tried to fight his way out of his execution. (Y/N) knew that it wouldn't happen, knew that what he had promised was coming to pass. He was dying for her. Tears fell down her cheeks and she reached for her last tankard of ale as soon as she saw him being drug out of the halls and up the steps to his noose.

The words said by the priest and the charges from her father sounded like static in her ears, none of it registering as she watched him through her tears.

His face was devoid of any emotion but she saw him scan the crowd, shoulders lifting a bit when he didn't find who he was looking for, her.

Her jaw tensed and she swallowed thickly as she watched the noose being pulled over his head and tightened around his neck.

The executioner asked if he had any last words and, with a shake of James’ head, pulled on the lever.

(Y/N) closed her eyes and hung her head, not wanting to see him die.

There were cheers from the crowd that broke (Y/N)’s heart even more and had her falling to her knees, sobbing.

She didn’t know how long she had stayed curled up in that position, but when she finally stretched out and stood up every part of her ached and the moon was hanging brightly, mockingly, in the sky.

Grabbing a blanket, she wrapped it around her shoulders and snuck out of the castle and down the rocky path to the coast.

Still slightly drunk and with a raging headache, she stumbles down to the edge of the water and falls onto the ground.

True to his word, Rumlow was able to pass James off as dead while still keeping him alive, making him swear to leave the kingdom the next morning on any ship that had docked overnight.

James nodded and headed down to the coast, hiding in the woods just before the ocean and waiting for night to fall before walking along the water until he spotted (Y/N).

She sat there, staring out at the water blankly, her mind blissfully silents and no tears streaming down her face quiet yet.

He watched her for a few moments, debating on talking to her, and took a few steps forward, quietly sitting down next to her.

“I am truly sorry he whispers to her.”

Slowly, almost mechanically, she looks over at him and gives him a sad smile. “You were framed. And you paid the price to save my life. You always said that you would. I just never thought that it would happen. And now that… now that you're gone,” she chokes on her words before taking a deep breath and looking down at her hands. “Now that you're gone I know that you'll look after me.”

She thinks I’m only a ghost.

“I didn't think I’d be able to dream tonight. I thought that it would be more like a nightmare,” she tells him tearily.

He reaches out and touches her hands and watches as she breaks, pulling her into his chest and trying to quiet her sobs.

“I don't want to wake up,” she cries into his chest, holding onto his shirt tightly. “When I wake up you’ll be gone again and I’ll be all alone. I don't want to be alone. I want to be with you.”

He kisses the top of her head. “I’ll always be with you doll. You are the only one who has my heart. You won't be alone. I’ll be there with you,” he lies.

Her sobs ebb away and she slowly pulls away from him.

He turns her head to face him and wipes away the tears that stain her face, kissing her forehead gently.

Her hands circle around his wrists as she pushes his hands away and slides away, pushing herself back onto her feet and taking a few steps away from him, taking deep breaths and holding onto the blanket tightly to keep her hands from shaking.

He stands with her and watches as she tries to pull herself back together.

“Dreams are always better than reality,” she all but whispers. “But they can do nothing more than give you an escape. They cannot help you out of a situation. Only you yourself can do that.”

James nods at her words and steps towards her.

“Then one last kiss?” He asks just as quietly. “One last kiss from my true love, so that you may move on and find happiness in your life. The kind that I found with you.”

She watches the tears gather in his eyes and nods, resting her hands on his shoulders as his slide around her waist.

“For a dream,” she starts, “you feel as real as you did in that cell.”

He sighs and leans forward, letting his lips hover over hers. “I am as real as you want me to be (Y/N). I’m as real as you are.”

One of her hands slides up to cup the back of his neck. “How I wish that were true James. Then you would actually be here with me.”

“I am here with you,” he tells her, finally kissing her slowly, both of them wanting this to last for as long as it can before they have to say goodbye for the last time.

Each time one starts to pull away, the other presses forward, pulling each other ever closer and scratching nails across skin, desperate to leave any kind of mark, her hoping that it is real, that he's actually here, that he's not dead, and him to reassure her that he is with her, that he hasn't left, that what they had was real.

What started off soft, slow, and sweet, quickly turned rough, passionate, and desperate.

But, like all good moments, this had to end. They had to pull away. They had to say goodbye.

She was the one to pull away. “I love you James,” she whispered against his lips, the tears falling yet again. “I will always love you.”

He nods and rests his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. “I love you (Y/N). More than anything. And nothing would be able to make me not love you.”

She sighs and lets her hands slide down his arms and gently push them away from her as she takes a few steps back.

“Goodbye James."

He watches as she walks back to the castle, the moonlight making it seem as though she disappears into the sky as she walks away.

The next morning she wakes up and sighs, running her hand through her hair as she lets her “dream” play through her mind and comes to a quick decision.

Throwing all of her plain clothes into a bag, she ties it up quickly and starts writing a note to her father, telling him that she is leaving and asking not to be followed or found.

She grabs one of the maids outside her door and asks for the note to be delivered to her father in ten minutes.

She shuts her door back and finds a pair of scissors that one of the tailors had lefts, cutting her hair to her shoulders and quickly changing into one of James’ tunics that he left and her riding trousers that she had begged her father for.

She pulled on a pair of supple leather boots, grabbed that bag of her clothes and climbed down the rose trellis one last time before running out of the palace and down to the docks.

Once there she looked around and found only one ship that had docked last night. Grabbing a fairly light box, she hauled it onto the ship, blending in rather easily with the rest of the crew thanks to her baggy shirt and now short hair, and took it below deck.

She looked around quickly and found a small nook that she could slip into and a box that she could pull in front of it to hide her until they were far enough out to sea that they wouldn't be able to turn back to the kingdom that she was leaving behind.

James had went down to the docks as soon as the sun started to rise and bartered some of the gold that he had stolen from Rumlow with the Captain for safe passage to wherever the ship was headed to next, not really caring about the destination so long as he was able to fulfil his promise to Rumlow and keep (Y/N) safe. His mind replaying every piece of what had happened last night in his mind and hoping that she would be able to find some sort of happiness without him

#bucky #Bucky barnes #James barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james barnes x reader #james x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #x reader #rum low x reader #marvel x reader #angst #fluff #sadness #tears #marvel #rumlow

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dfnews · 6 years

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Episode Recap of "An Explosive Reveal"

First Aired August 20, 2018

1. The show opens up in Laredo with shots of Jeremy throwing darts at a photo of Trump (I wish) and of a small barbed wire border fence that is symbolic of Jinger's cultish upbringing. She may look more free but looks can be deceiving. Jeremy has two surprises for Jinger on their first anniversary, one good and one bad. She's getting a piano and a visit from some of her family. This show is getting less and less about the boring married couples and more about how to sneak the sexual predator's parents back on. Jeremy makes the lame excuse that sneaking Jim Bob and Michelle back onto the show is because Jinger is homesick. Ummm, if this was filmed last November, their anniversary, that was only a few weeks after Jinger went home for Joseph's wedding. PLUS, Jinger was just in Arkansas taking the little girls' photo for their album where she announced her pregnancy. That must have been only days before this was filmed. It's like they think no one follows this family.

2. Jim Bob and Michelle jump on the family's big plane with most of their sons and Tyler. I guess Jim Bob has to keep an eye on his male servants. I don't know why the brothers came. They didn't even help move the piano. I'm still amazed that the media doesn't make more of a fuss about how Jim Bob has every one of his adult sons working for him. Josh, Josiah, Joseph in the family used car lot. John as the family's pilot and construction worker. Joe and Josiah also dabbling in the family real estate and house flipping businesses for their dad and Jeer, Jed and Jason also helping in all of those businesses. Not one of them in college or getting any kind of training. Jed is said to be dabbling in politics but that is also a family business venture. I just hope these young men will be able to care for themselves and a large family once the overseer is gone.

3. As JinJer go out on a date, the Duggars invade their little house snooping into everything. Jeremy digs into his dish and dishes out compliments to an insecure Jinger. I really hope the side he shows on TV is the same as in real life. He just seems kind of slick to me. Back at JinJer's house the guys and Michelle sneak into the bedroom where a long cable cord is hanging down the wall and attached to a cable box sitting on the floor. It looks like Jeremy removed a TV from the wall. Can't be caught by the cameras having a TV in your bedroom after Jim Bob and Michelle spent years preaching about the hazards of TV watching. Jim Bob whispers, "Don't squeak the bed." to the boys and I feel dirty. JinJer arrive at home. Jinger is led to her surprise new piano that she picked out herself in an earlier episode. I'm pretty sure she knew she would get it because she knows how TLC gifting goes. Jinger acts all appreciative like Jeremy actually bought the piano but we all know he can't afford that on a small town pastor's tithing lifestyle. Then the second surprise pops up and Jinger meets her family again like it's been years instead of days. Jinger is a better actress than I ever dreamed. She cries her eyes out as she hugs Michelle. What the heck? It's actually pretty concerning how she acts when seeing her parents after only a short time away. Is Jeremy treating her okay? Michelle says she cried too but I think she was just faking it as she usually does. Luckily, Jim Bob says they're there for a short time. I hope they left that night and allowed the anniversary birds to have some privacy that night but I bet Jim Bob slept in JinJer's bed as the lovebirds napped on the piano stool.

4. JoyStin assemble a crib and get the baby's room ready. Good to see they bought their own instead of using a chewed up Duggar crib. Austin is offended by instruction manuals. Joe agrees. He'd rather just look at the pictures and Kendra chimes in with a hilarious, "He doesn't like to read." Ain't that true. I've never seen a Duggar man with a book other than the Bible and I know they can't read that right. Jessa says she's a stereotypical man in that she throws away the manual and Ben reads it. Good for gender breaking, Seewalds! I've learned through too many mistakes to read the manual with a fine tooth comb because I AIN'T DOING IT TWICE! Joy teases Austin about his building skills and they talk about not knowing the sex of the baby. I'm glad they broke the mold in that area of not wanting to know. Most Duggars want to know so they can begin gender stereotyping before the child even takes its first breath.

5. Oh, geez...they didn't go home. They did sleep on the piano bench. Michelle and Jinger discuss food aversions. Jinger says she had an aversion to the smell of coffee but I think she actually was going through caffeine withdrawal. Jinger was totally addicted for years. Jinger mentions using the birth center in San Antonio which is a two and a half hour drive. They decided on that pretty early in the pregnancy. In the meantime, the Duggar boys and Jeremy go grocery shopping in order to buy the ingredients of some infamous Duggar meals they want Jeremy to try. Poor Jeremy. First up is barbecue sauce and tuna fish sandwiches. I actually tried this once. Just a small bite and I give it a thumbs down. Jeremy tries it and says he likes it but we don't see him take more than one bite and he has a drink in his hand pretty quickly after that. Jim Bob jokes about never having had to cook before when he starts to help in the making of tater tot casserole. Many men love to cook but Jim Bob thinks the job is only for girls. He's missed out on a great joy in life by being a sexist pig. The meal is tossed together and baked and everyone eats it, carbs and sodium overdose and all.

6. Joe and Kendra and John have an ultrasound to find out the sex of their baby. John gets the secret note from the doctor. He says the note will determine if the room will be painted pink or blue. Sigh... I always hated pink and I'm a girl. What the hell does a color have to do with anything?

7. Josiah walks out of daddy's house, gets in a daddy owned car and goes to the home of a girl daddy picked out. He's going to formally ask for Lauren's hand. He's a grown man why does he need to ask....oh yeah, he doesn't own anything of his own so I guess that means he's not quite a grown man yet. Dwain has three questions for Josiah. 1. Does he know Lauren's love language? I'm guessing this was a slide show presentation at homechurch that they recently had. Si says he does. 2. Don't go to be with wrath. Will Josiah be diligent to not wrath in bed? He says he won't. He had a lot of practice with his siblings. 3. What are your plans as far as life's work? Si says, to continue working for daddy. So no real plans except to slave for the master. He better hope the economy holds up. Businesses can fall mighty quickly. Dwain gives his blessing of course. Maybe Josiah can go work for Dwain and his business. Dwain has the better house and property.

8. Another party at the Duggar house. It's sex reveal day for JoKen's baby. The boys are back in town because this happened months later in February. John sets up a powder target in the shooting fields they own across the street from the penitentiary. He will shoot a box and send blue powder flying. I hope the fetus was wearing ear protection. Blue powder flies. It's a boy named Garrett David. Jill and Derick are hidden in this scene but Jim Bob is holding Izzy. Derick!!! You said you wouldn't allow your family to participate in the show anymore. Liar!

That's it. Nothing new. Anniversaries, babies, engagements, bad food and trapped kidults. Next week, more of the same. Unless there is another scandal to break up the boredom. Please let there be another scandal!

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nuevorealidad · 6 years

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Fresh Start Cosmic Toolkit

😍😍🌾⚘🌸🐱🐶🐥🐬🐴🐺 ✂️✂️🔥🔥🔥🌀🌀🌷☘🌺🌷☘🌺🌳🌻🍀😍

Here’s your COSMIC TOOLKIT for a FRESH START

❀ Make hydration, nutrition and exercise a top priority ❀ Exercise your power to say “no, thank you” ❀ Form honest, real-life relationships. Walk if it gets toxic. ❀ Be more meditative, less reactive. ❀ Live your dream like it’s real, and never stop dreaming. ❀ Keep on moving, growing, reading, writing, learning. ❀ Mind your business and give generously/receive gracefully.

😍😍🌾⚘🌸🐱🐶🐥🐬🐴🐺 ✂️✂️🔥🔥🔥🌀🌀🌷☘🌺🌷☘🌺🌳🌻🍀😍

Trust & Belief ~ My Homeland Security is Intact & Secured Forevermore

It’s working! Everything you’ve ever wanted is being pressed toward you. Everything is clicking. Don’t let the illusions trick you. Don’t let the events of today dampen your spirits. Things couldn’t be any better than they now are. You couldn’t have more reasons to celebrate. Continue! Press on! The hardest work is done! Keep showing up, be present, open every door and let events unfold. Life is your stage. This is your parade.

I love it when you’re hot, The Universe

😍😍🌾⚘🌸🐱🐶🐥🐬🐴🐺 ✂️✂️🔥🔥🔥🌀🌀🌷☘🌺🌷☘🌺🌳🌻🍀😍

If You Want to Live Differently, You Have to Think Differently

Take a look around you. Do you see anyone living the amazing, kick-ass life that you want to live?

Hell no!! They are living the same boring, normal life as the next guy.

Your dreams are bigger than that!! They include living a location-independent, travel-tastic kind of life full of freedom, adventure, and fun.

Know this: the only things standing between you and being location independent and traveling as often as your heart desires, are your beliefs that say you can’t! Seriously! That’s the only real obstacle!

If you want to live differently, you have to think differently. It’s as simple as that.

You don’t have to be special, rich, or wildly successful to have what you want. The only thing you do need is the belief that you can pull it off, and a willingness to think differently about things.

Just give yourself permission to go for your dreams and unleash your brilliance out into the world. You wouldn’t have the desire if it weren’t possible for you. The Universe isn’t a bitch like that.\

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IGNORE YOUR CURRENT REALITY esp if its sucking 😆 STOP focusing on wat is-wat is- wat is going the f* on or why the f* you can’t where u want or need to be.! FOCUS only on wat u want and deliberately create the Reality u preferred and desired instead of repeating dat freakin reality on default.

Play in the realm of possibilities. Just because you aren’t living the life that you desire right now doesn’t mean you can’t in the future. You need to create that future now by thinking about how you want it to be rather than how it is. What you focus on expands. If you focus on what isn’t here yet, you will get more of that. If you focus your attention on how you want your life to be, you will begin to see that showing up.

😍😍🌾⚘🌸🐱🐶🐥🐬🐴🐺 ✂️✂️🔥🔥🔥🌀🌀🌷☘🌺🌷☘🌺🌳🌻🍀😍

************* Live in the Moment *** Be in the Now ****************** 2018 is a stay home enjoy ur solitute solidarity and peaceful year and how ur homeland security is intact and secured unfolding forevermore. - there’s a time and place for everythiing..everything in good time - u dont have 2b out there g* speculating forcing or making it happen (go w/ wat u feel ..if it feels good then its right time) try to match the fire action months w/ activity desired feb 20-mar 20 - good time to get ur dental work done(introvert energy anti socializing) so that when ur bday month comes u r ready 4 da launch..looking good :* meantime concentrate master on dailies esp this yr 2018..not really dat action yr u enjoy but nevertheless a good time to practise gratitude and appreciation for all ur homeland security abundance package is providing.. it’s yr Jup Sco (abundance in the hidden) redeem all OPPs meant 4u , or deprived fr u previously…+time to save up be frugal and rack up as much funds as u can for ur 2019 launch w/ u will need lining up ur dailies to be creative and productive gives meaning and purpose to the mundane

Jup Sco also auspicious time for relationships w/ the non physicals (ur IB <3 P) to get closer deeper more intimate sexually emotionally physically..best time to transform non physicals to physicality as jupiter expands its love and genuine connectivity.

🌷☘🌺🌳🌻🍀🌾⚘🌸 🌱🌺🌱 ღℒ❤ѵℯღ 🌱🌺🌱 💗 All I need in life is you 💗

Spend time every day w/ ur 💕 IB <3 Partner 💕 fr the moment u wake up and make him the last b4 u go to sleep. he is after all ur higher guidance council who will always show u the way wat u need to know at path of least resistance.. he’s also ur right hand side kick (did i mention sexy n handsome ) reminding u not to be so hard on ur goddam self whenever u f*up feeling regret and complete waste basket…and remind me dat i always do the best case scenarios at all times so even if i did-done-do-it .. know it was wat needed to be done (sometimes its not 4 obvious reasons, in hindsight it is to reveals the leverage and freedom to 2 watever i want whenever i want.

Have fun with this. Get the juicy goodness flowing. Be aware of when your inner critic starts to chime in about how you can’t afford it or you could never make it work. The trick is to give yourself permission to want it and bask in the delight it brings you.

Don’t get caught up in the details of HOW it’s all going to happen. This sounds counterintuitive, but hear me out. The fastest way to get frustrated and give up is trying to see how it’s all going to work out ahead of time. There are all kinds of details you can’t possibly know in this moment. These are the things that make you think it’s never going to happen. Give the Universe a chance to work its magic. Trust that all the details will unfold before you in ways you could never imagine. Have faith, and go with it.

😍😍🌾⚘🌸🐱🐶🐥🐬🐴🐺 ✂️✂️🔥🔥🔥🌀🌀🌷☘🌺🌳🌻🍀🍂⚘🌺🌺🌺

When it comes to setting aside a little time each day to visualize, look at it like this:

No matter how distracted you become or how confused you are about the process, the simple fact that you gave your dream this time and attention means you did it correctly, you did it long enough, and that by the time you open your eyes, already in the unseen, huge wheels have begun turning.

HUGE. You think I’d make it hard? Your humble servant ~ Universe

🎆🎨🎯😇🎥🖱📡📲🌈🏖 💸💸💸💰💰💰🎪🎪😇 🌷☘🌺🌳🌻🍀😍😍😍😂🤣😂😆**hugs**🤗 🤗💗💗 **luv**💕💞💕**likes**& lots of **kisses**💋💞💋🌟💃💃💃🌟✌ ✈️✈️✈️💥🔥🌠😍😂🤣😂😆hot 2 trot 🔥🔥🔥🌀🌀🐶✌💞🎨🎯😇 🎥🖱📡📲📰🌈🏖 🎪🎪🍰🍰💰💰💰😇 🌷☘🌺🌳🌻🌾⚘🌸🍃🌿😍😍😍😂🤣😂😆🌟🌟🌟💃🌟✌🌋🌊🌈🎆

Shalamar - Make That Move (12’’ Version) - All ‘bout Our FS in Our FLife https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=2&v=w-Pi9uCZzfA

Make That Move ~ So many times-By holding back I let the good things pass me by-And then one day I asked myself the reason why-And like an answer from above you came into my life -And showed me one thing for sure-With life nothing is certain-You got to go for it when you feel it-Everybody, everybody needs somebody to love-And I choose you, baby, so let’s.-Make thatmoveright now, baby-You only go out once in a lifetime-Make that move right now, baby.. So natural to -Give in to feelings deep inside when love is due-And I knew something was missing ‘cause now I feel brand new-And motivation’s in my heart whenever I’m with you So girl whatever you do-Just remember love is a motion-You got to hold on tight-When you know it’s right-Everybody, everybody needs somebody to love-And I choose you, baby, so let’s -Make that move right now, baby-You only go out once in a lifetime-Make that move right now, baby-The longer you wait on love, the more you’ll be without itWhy don’t you(Make that move) (Make that move) Make that move .. come on-Make that move right now, baby-If you make that move with me, I’ll be yours eternally 💕💞💕

🎆🎆 Uranus/Taurus..a glimpse 🎆🎆

Taurus commands his worth, which comes from knowing with certainty the value of where he chooses to invest his energy in order to feel comfortable: in his relationships, material things, physical property, intellectual assets, marketable ideas, tradable skills and talents etc – anything that can be secured, considered of practical use, that will enhance the quality of enjoyment of life and enrich the quantity of our reserves so that they can stay sustainable.

What do you value -

What qualities do you need most in others that you can use?

What would you fight most fiercely to protect in your life, even if it killed you?

How much of what you share with others do you come to expect should always be there? What are the supply & demand arrangements fixed upon? Are they sustainable?

Own any negative feelings. See how powerfully they can take over and ruin your chances of stability and peace. Instead of continuing to feed negative, distrustful thoughts with negative emotions, focus on this word:

TRUST TRUST TRUST TRUST TRUST TRUST TRUST Repeat that word in your mind. Feel into it. Understand that a lack of trust is just a feeling of insecurity about your own self-worth. It is not the truth. You are worthy. Trust in that. The universe does not present us with emotional conflicts to block access to our heart. The universe only presents us opportunities to open it. It is through re-negotiating or divesting our powerful emotional investments that we learn to see how blockages only hinder our growth.

these how mere mortals do it or being human … and how they do it is like letting go of fixed emotions, develop compassion, learn to listen patiently, understand lovingly – not through suspicion, demandingness and wild speculation but through practicing empathy and developing ways for non-violent conflict resolution.

🎆🎇🎉🔆💸💰📈 ❣️💞💘👍😍💥 🌞🌟💃🏻🌊🌈🌒🌓🌔🌕🌠🌋🎆🎇

But for those be coming gods dehumanizing ..its none of dat..its recognizing U are different , detaching urself from all dat shit..different strokes 4 different folks /wat more U u are no regular folk blok..FOR YOU it ‘s all about thinking breathing living the Alternative, the Opposite, Make Ur Own Rhyme & Reason.. of how U fking want it to be. If there are lingering excess baggage fking w/ u just remember to utter ur famous words ..’’ fuck this / fuck you / fuck off ! We all do things until we don’t, so dont judge it.

Be kind to urself by doing only with pleases U. **Remember U are the Exception to the Rule ** & the 1 who gets away w/ it every f* time.. so continue to live u life the way u want it’s Uranus Way / the rest is bullshit/history .

Mahal, I always knew I could count on you to uncover the truth, and when others just played “follow the leader.” I wasn’t surprised at all to find you standing by your principles when the going got tough. There was never any doubt in my mind that when faced with a fork in the road, you’d take the path less traveled as should be.

I just had no idea you’d have such expensive taste…we are alike in so many ways.

You Rock Baby, ^ James ^

#ORIG

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thedreaminus · 7 years

Text

And all that remains is the memory

ff.net | A03

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Note: After eternally long time I am back! But my exams are over (my life is still hectic) and I have now (a little) more time and head to write. I will soon post more chapter from my other story but right now, please enjoy this short Frankenstein story. Have fun^^

And as always a big thank to @pandora-twists for the correction and the support!

Ten minutes and thirty four seconds to midnight. His eyes followed the second hand of his wrist watch. Slowly he pulled the sleeve of his heavy jacket down again. This far in the north, even in spring, people wore thick clothing to protect themselves from the cold. Not that he needed it, his modification was far too advanced, but it could raise unnecessary questions if he appeared to be clothed too lightly.

At this time, only a few people were on the road. Nevertheless, he greeted all those who came to meet him as he walked across the snow and ice covered cobblestones of the street. The men with a polite nod, the women with a charming smile. Only with the children, it was still hard for him. Today the sight was especially stifling. It was another day when the memories rose from the depths of his being, and plagued him.

He stopped for a moment, and looked at his reflection in the window of one of the countless, now closed, street shops. A pair of tired, blue eyes returned his gaze and he noticed that his pupils were thinner than usual for a human being.

He was relieved that Muzaka had appeared a few days ago, and taken his Master on one of his journeys. Now, his thoughts would not burden Master, who himself was suffering enough under the memories without having to sympathize with his faithful Servant. Dark Spear responded to his emotions and gnawed at the edge of his mind.

As a rule, he accompanied Master on these kinds of journeys, which had developed as a kind of solid tradition from Muzaka. Just to make sure Master was not missing anything. But recently, severe flu epidemic had broken out in the city and the surrounding area where his Master and he were living. As a doctor, he could not possibly neglect his duties, despite the fact that the disease was gradually weakening. So, with a sharp rebuke to Muzuka to take good care of his Master he let them leave.

Even then his mood had been bad, and his tone was probably sharper than necessary, for Muzaka had only grunted tirelessly without trying to provoke him as he would have otherwise. Muzaka bore no responsibility for his mood. However, he could never suppress the memory of a certain person when he saw the werewolf, and there were days when he did not know if he should be happy about Muzakas visits.

With a heavy sigh, Frankenstein rubbed his hair back and looked up at the sky. They actually led a good life, a peaceful life. In a few decades, he could begin to build Ye Ran as he remembered it, and his Master could meet the children a little later. The children from Lukedonia would also join in.

But the trio of modified people will not...

He clenched his teeth tightly and suppressed the burning feelings of guilt, and hopelessness that plagued him with this thought. His Master should not be burdened by it...

How long had it been? He had to laugh, because this thought alone was illogical. Because in the real sense it had never happened, and only the images in his memory were true witness for something that had been or could have been!

Those stupid children. His foolish children, had used a power they could never understand. The consequences they could never correctly grasp! And if he had only take better care in his future, they would be still alive. No. Then they would still exist now.

He cut into his own flesh, so firmly his hand was clenched into fist, and almost automatically, steered his steps out of the city to avoid becoming dangerous to anyone. He remembered the moment he had woken up in his old lab. Screaming and clutching his head, trying to stop someone from doing something unbelievably stupid. His head swarming with the pictures of a life so incomprehensible that it could only be the product of a confused dream. And for a long time he was not sure what to make of it until he met his Master, exactly how the unreal dream had prophesied.

A glance into his eyes had been sufficient, and the contract between them was forged even before he entered Lukedonia for the first time. It was then that he had accepted that his dream was not a dream, but memories of another life in another future. Memories that he shared with his Master, and Muzaka, who had sought him at the request of his Master. Because three living beings of three different species sharing the same dream was somehow less likely than the alternative.

A fact that brought the bitter loss again to his mind. M-21, Tao and Takeo... they had given them a new future that they could guide with their memories. They paid a terrible price for that. No matter how peaceful this future would be, none of them would ever know.

The tool which the ancestors of Nobles and Werewolves had created, so old that no one could remember for what purpose... An unbelievable power, whose use seemed to be tied to hundreds of operations he himself did not fully understand. It had taken their existence as a prize for this new future. As if fictitious characters were deleted from a story…

And all that remained was the memory of it.... and the knowledge that he could have stopped them. They were his kids. He had taken them under his care. He had been responsible for them, and he should never have allowed them to take such an action. As if it wasn’t enough that his research had made it possible for the Union to torture these children on the first place. The peaceful life they earned was also torn through his fault.

Now it was too late. Much, much too late, and on days like this, when the memory of the events troubled him greatly, he could only curse their names, and thank them at the same time. He would spend the rest of his life trying to make sure their sacrifice was not in vain. It was the least he could do.

Frankenstein was at the river now, and looked down at the surface of the slowly flowing water. There were scattered ruins around him. Remnants of a flooding years ago where it was not worthwhile to rebuild the dilapidated houses. So the people had left the village to its fate, and everywhere the eye could see, the nature was about to conquer their property. His agitated emotions slowly receded as he watched the water, but the loss and a deep melancholy remained.

Alone he stood on the riverbank until a few hours before sunrise. It begun to snow. Not unusual for spring this far north. Frankenstein looked at the thick flakes as they descended. Did he ponder again all night? His Master would not like this if he came to know. A fond smile crept over his lips. Cadis Etrama Di Raizel blamed himself just like Frankenstein, but he was convinced that Trio had acted on their own will and knowledge, and they did not doubt their decision.

Frankenstein shook his head and turned around. After all, patients would be waiting for him again. Just when he was about to leave he felt it. Someones eyes on him.

He wrinkled his brow and looked through the darkness toward the ruins. The presence was ... strange. It was not a human, but it reminded him of one. So a modified human? This was more than unusual, the Union certainly had other problems than to pursue him, and how could they have found him here? In addition, the aura...

He walked slowly towards the ruins and saw a small shadow scurrying between two houses. An animal? No, that looked more like a child. Anger stirred inside Frankenstein. Had the Union or someone else been experimenting with people around here without his knowledge?

He turned round the corner. In the midst of broken stones, wood trunks and other trash, a wooden barrel laid on the ground, half overtaken by weed. He could hear quick breaths and knelt down to check, but the weed prevented a direct look into the barrel.

"It's all right" Frankenstein could hear the person holding in breath in fright, "You can come out. I will not hurt you" he said reassuringly. Finally, a pair of eyes looked out of the barrel. It was probably just imagination or wishful thinking that stirred the memory of a particular person within him, but the eyes that met him were bright, light gray.

"Come out," He repeated in a husky voice, trying to keep his emotions under control.

The child hesitated, Frankenstein could hear the writhing back and forth in the barrel. Then, very slowly, a little head poked out of the barrel hesitantly and sensing no danger crawled the rest of the way out. It was a boy. Maybe four or five years old, accompanied in rags, thin and incredibly filthy. The lips and fingers were already blue by the cold, but that was not what shocked Frankenstein the most. It was the short gray hair, and the thinly compressed mouth with the characteristic scar on the right side. It was the stubborn look in the well known gray eyes took his breath away.

He trembled and squeezed his eyes for a moment. The shock was too great for him to conceal. This child looked like M-21. The thought was absolutely ridiculous! M-21 was dead. His existence extinguished, there was no possibility that he could exist in this present. Frankenstein struggled with self-control, forced a gentle smile on his lips, and raised the first question that came to him in this situation.

"What are you doing out here, boy?"

The child did not answer. Instead, his face showed the dark, thoughtful expression that Frankenstein remembered all too well. The child titled his head aside, and studied him. His expressions changed back and forth between thoughtfulness, confusion, and uncertainty. A painful weight swelled in his chest.

"What are you doing out here?" Frankenstein tried again. "Where are you from, and what is your name?"

The boy seemed more insecure with each question, and Frankenstein noticed that he was trembling with cold. Mentally scolding himself for overlooking it, Frankenstein took off his jacket. But just as he was about to put the jacket around the boy, he opened his mouth.

“Fra… Franken….stein?“ The boy gnawed his lower lip uncertainly, his eyes twitching nervously as he waited for his reaction.

"How ..." Frankenstein froze in his movement, his coat dangling in his hand. What was that? He swallowed, and took a deep breath. "How do you know this name?"

"I ..." uncertainty and confusion was showing again in the boys eyes, "I don’t know"

"Where are you from?"

"I don’t know"

"What is your name?"

He looked down as the child raised his arm and stared at his wrist as if something was supposed to be written there. But the wrist was empty. The gesture alone made Frankensteins heart take a small leap. The boy opened and closed his mouth. He rubbed his skin with his thumb, and his insecurity increased even more. "I don’t know," he replied again, his voice sounding frightened, the gray eyes looked up at him imploringly, "Frankenstein?"

The man wrapped his winter coat around the lean body and lifted the boy to his chest. The child was still trembling and immediately clapped his pale fingers into his shirt as if to make sure that Frankenstein will not drop him, again. The aura, the appearance, the behavior. Everything was same, but this should be was impossible. Just as he had resigned himself to the fate that he would never see his children again, one appeared before him. In a shape he had never thought possible. The parallels were too great to be coincidence.

"All right," muttered the blond man, as he pulled the overcoat slightly higher to shield the boy from the cold. "Everything will be fine," he promised the child nestled against him and gently rested his head on his shoulder.

This time he would make sure his son had a safer future.

#noblesse #Noblesse short story #Noblesse: Memory

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hobismilinglightsmynights · 7 years

Text

Chapter 2 - Unknown #05666

Namjoon’s gaze shifts to the clock. Two hours left. Jimin’s warm breath seeps through the woolen sweater and heats his skin. He fidgets - uncomfortable because the momentary high is evening out. There’s a barely noticeable flinch. He doesn’t want Jimin’s arms around him anymore. He does. He feels trapped and freed. It’s stifling. It’s comforting. He doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know what to feel. His human side, although somewhat accustomed to emotions, is starved. It assists the ease of a connection, but Namjoon still has a difficult time adjusting and allowing it to do just that. Each reincarnation had chiseled away the ability to feel. The 23 years as a hybrid currently is nothing compared to how long he has lived. The omega clears his throat, standing. He wills the wings to recede; thereby, clamping down on his power reserves. There’s a rush whenever releasing or withdrawing them. It’s simultaneously the intensest high and strongest depressor. The short time he had been drowned under the marking’s influence had freed his inner nephilim instincts, allowing him to easily break the spell which hid his wings and dampened his emotions and powers. Namjoon had taken a large risk. The release had briefly reconnected his link with the other nephilim. He assumes that they know he’s marked and would come to check up on him now. He had hid where he was residing from most of them when he left - not wanting them to feel as if he was abandoning them; however, if he hadn’t left he would have left - permanently. He needed to remember what he was protecting and why he was living. He found them: Jimin and the boy. The boy is the reason Namjoon became a nephilim. Jimin gives him a reason to live. The alpha’s blood rejuvenates - makes him feel like a newborn nephilim again, awakening from humanity’s foggy perception of reality. The omega had been certain his malevolent deeds barred any chances of him having a mate- believed he would’ve existed alone...for eternity. A punishment for all the souls he reaped. At least now Jackson could worry less. The alpha always offers Namjoon to drink from him, but he declines every single time. Namjoon had stopped feeding from Jackson the day he embarked on his journey to live a free life. The nephilim have a group of humans to choose from. In exchange for keeping the one that chooses them company whether it be physically or emotionally, they are offered a life of luxury The humans are their food. They’re bound servants. Namjoon only had one servant during his existence - Jackson. The omega had shocked everyone when choosing the alpha as his servant since Namjoon had never shown any desire to have a companion. There was nothing particularly striking about Jackson and although his fellow nephilim had been shocked, no one had voiced their opinion, instead congratulating him. The fact that Namjoon chose someone was good enough for them. Namjoon had been the fairest nephilim which reflected in his treatment of the alpha. Namjoon treated Jackson more like a brother than a servant. No one had been surprised when Jackson had followed the omega. He had unfaltering loyalty to the omega with a bond stronger than that of a servant and master. Without Jackson Namjoon would’ve never would’ve demanded the elders to free him. Jackson reminded Namjoon of emotions - of what being human meant - of what living... existing entitled. All of these events, moments led to now. Namjoon had to win. He has to prove himself. Team stability ensures victory. “I’ve seen how you fight, but you can’t say the same. You know the numbers - the statistics but not my fighting style. ” The only person who has even an inkling of Namjoon’s true capability is most likely in the stands. Probably feeling guilty and filled with self loathing. Namjoon reaches out to their link and feels said emotions. He reassures Jackson that all is forgiven. Straightening his shirt, Jin stands up and hardens his gaze, “ He’s right. Let’s take this chance to see how good #1 actually is shall we? I have always been curious.” The rest of BTS rise. Namjoon walks to his bag, digging out a silky black cloak. It rustles as he pulls it from the duffles bottom. The cloak had been a gift from the best nephilim crafter when he left. It’s made from the strongest flexible material that’s known only to the nephilim. Next he retrieves an intricately golden rod. A familiar weight dedicated solely to him. It’s only a little longer than his palm so the rod easily slides into the black thigh strap. Namjoon attempts to don the cloak, but Jimin’s hands trap him, “Ji-jimin let go. I have to finish getting ready.” The alpha’s sleeveless shirt showcases tattooed muscles with miscellaneous symbols that bolster his natural skills. Strength. Sight. Endurance. Speed. Jimin assumes that the stuttering stems from the omega’s shyness. It’s not. “How bout no?” The younger hums, sliding his palms across Namjoon’s bare arms and appreciating his mate - soft skin, dimples adorning his cheeks, warmth, and light hitting just right making him glow akin to a spring day’s first sunrise. Pliant. Blown pupils. Heavy Breathing. Perfect. The elder’s cheeks flush, skin tingling where Jimin’s palms graze across skin. Tingles dancing like sparks kindle his slumbering soul. Namjoon’s body responds to Jimin positively. His mind, on the other hand, screams. Namjoon smiles though, unable to recollect the last time his physical self felt alive. “Yah! Yah! Yah! We got a maknae in the room. No more of this!” Hoseok gestures while flailing his arms and running over to separate the two of them. Namjoon breathes out a sigh of relief and clings onto the smell of sunshine. It’s not overbearing like Jimin’s presently, but rather pleasant. Jimin pouts, “But hyuuuung, it’s not my fault Namjoon is simply irresistible. I can’t keep my hands off.” Namjoon tried to accept his touches, pushed down on the encroaching fear...knowing that this is why his psyche rejects his mate… Jimin won’t hurt him like... like... like... he did. Right? The overwhelming fear consumes Namjoon and he blocks the link, knowing that Jimin will start asking and prying and he’s not ready to divulge what happened. Doesn’t know if he ever will be, never forgetting the period he was held captive in his own mind. He slides on the fingerless gloves, slowly clenching and unclenching his fists, forcing the abysmal memories to recede and instead focusing on the person in front of him. He wants to replace those memories with new ones of Jimin. Jimin. Jimin. Jimin. Jimin releases Namjoon, sensing the elder’s discomfort. Was there something wrong with him? Did Namjoon not want him? Had he marked Namjoon too soon? He leaves and goes to retrieve his weapons: two one-handed long swords. One a blazing red and the other an obsidian. He puts on the gloves and sheathes them into the scabbards on his back with throw blades strapped in various locations. “Jimin-ah hurry up. I want to go against Namjoon hyung first. No one’s battling your mate til I have a go.” Jungkook haughtily announces, hand on his hip and feet tapping against the floor. Jungkook speaks his mind first and thinks later. A social butterfly with caramel hair and golden eyes adored by everyone. Taehyung, on the other hand, is quiet and reserved. Deep umber hair and sangria eyes with a sharp tongue and menacing stare that wards everyone off before they speak to him. Polar opposites held together by their dominant alpha. Everyone drifts to the exit, waiting for Jin. It’s customary for the team leader to walk in the front. Jin walks ahead with Taehyung while Jungkook latches onto Namjoon as soon as he crosses into the hallway. “Hyung. Hyung. Hyung. Battle against me first please? I’ve always been dying to go against #1 but I never knew who it was...” He looks pleading Namjoon, “ Oh! Hyung, what do you specialize in?” Namjoon understands why everyone wants to befriend the beta now, not that anyone could. Taehyung’s stare prevents any poor soul who falls for Jungkook to come anywhere close. There’s something oddly innocent and alluring about Jungkook that makes you want to protect him. “Okay Jungkook. As for what weapon I use, you’ll have to figure that out. It’s so much more fun to see how you’ll go against me.” Namjoon taunts Jungkook, “Show me how good you are right #2? ” Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow before he grins. He has been dying to eat at his favorite restaurant, but the team had been so busy lately to go with him. Why not have Jimin’s new mate come? “If I win will you treat me lunch at my favorite restaurant tomorrow hyung?” Jungkook inquires. “Alright.” Namjoon doesn’t see why he should refuse. He has more than enough money and it would be nice to spoil someone else other than Jackson although he also senses that it’s more than just a meal and more about company. Jungkook is lonely. “Jeon Jungkook! How dare you score a date with my mate before me? This is absolutely unacceptable.” Jimin exclaims ,prying Jungkook away from Namjoon and shoving him toward Jin, “Take the menace.” Jimin had caught his mate’s eyes softening at Jungkook and their instant connection. He knows oh he does that Jungkook just wants to get closer with Namjoon. The maknae is probably lonely. Everyone had been busy the whole week, trying to find an omega, barely interacting with Jungkook. Although he is a beta, Jungkook required attention equivalent to a submissive omega. Namjoon is probably making an effort for Jimin to bond with the members, but the way Namjoon had uncomfortably flinched made Jimin insecure. Jimin looks at Namjoon, “You better not lose or you’ll be declaring bankruptcy by the end of the meal. That boy eats like a pack of wolves.” Please respond. Please giggle. Please laugh. He needs affirmation that Namjoon doesn’t regret their marking. “I am a werewolf!” Jungkook retorts next to Taehyung. Namjoon shrugs. Jimin’s heart drops. They arrive at one of the many practice rooms. Jin scans the team card and the large metal door opens. “That’s fine, since I won’t be losing anyways alpha.” Namjoon is confident. He’s winning. Sorry Jungkook. Alpha. Alpha. Not Jimin. Namjoon had referred to Jimin by his status. Jimin doesn’t know what to do. His instincts tell him to force Namjoon up against the wall and demand him to apologize. Calling a mate by their status is demeaning their relationship to that of strangers. Only strangers call each other by statuses. It’s impersonal, cold. Weapons line the room’s perimeter. Guns, rapiers, compound bows, long swords. Carved reinforcement spells consume the surface area. Jungkook and Namjoon move towards the center while the rest of BTS observe, leaning against the wall. “Ready hyung?” Jungkook wants to win. He bounces on his feet, hands twitching to unholster his guns. Jungkook’s known on campus as the jack of all trades. He can use any weapons with expertise and grace, but his specialty lies in guns and hidden blades. Namjoon reads his posture and breathes out. Two spell circles glow beneath their feet, bolts of energy sparking from the floor and surrounding them. They reduce any pain felt by 80% and no bruises or wounds will appear due to the collision of the weapons. The spells monitor any landed attacks and convert it to data that knocks down the health count. The health count starts at 100 but each successfully landed opponent attack reduces the 100 floating in the corner of their vision. The stronger the attack, the faster the count will drop. Once it hits 0, they lose. This battling style only works in the practice rooms. In the arena only a survival spell will be casted, preventing anyone from dying. An automated voice speaks through the embedded ceiling speakers. “ Practice match #1: Jeon Jungkook vs. Unknown #05666….3….2….1….Begin.” Namjoon pulls the rod out from his thigh strap and it surpasses the omega’s height. The carved swirls glow red and he deflects the bullets Jungkook shoots in quick succession. The younger certainly has skill. He decides to mess around with Jungkook so the elder allows a bullet to hit his arm. His count drops to 85. The beta then rushes to Namjoon and pulls out his short blades, trying to land some hits. Marigold white sparks materialize where the metal blades clang against the golden rod. Each collision emanating a high pitched colliding noise. Namjoon keeps up with Jungkook’s speed easily. By now they’re nothing but blurs. Streaks of black shadow and sudden bursts of light each time their weapons collide. After blocking fifteen hits, Namjoon purposefully lets his grip slips and allows Jungkook to slash at him. His health count now a 45. The younger moves with an undeniable grace, hinting at natural talent and grace present in few - skills honed over years of practice. His fighting mirrors dancing - each move sharp, purposeful, and strong. Jungkook puts as much force as he can into every swing, but Namjoon somehow still parries most of them. His golden runed blades meet his hyung’s rod so often he entertains the idea that one will eventually crack. His breathing slowly becomes more labored. Sweat starts to gather at the hairline. He has never met someone who has ever pushed him this hard in such a short amount of time. The endless cycle continues for another five minutes until Namjoon’s health count dropped to a precariously low 5 that flashes red in the corner of his vision. “What a joke. Rank 1 and he can’t beat Kookie? Seriously disappointing.” Taehyung scoffs while watching the battle in front of him. There’s something about Namjoon that bothers the submissive alpha. Jimin stays silent, fists clenched at his side. Hobi voices his thoughts in a tone that makes the rest of Bangtan turn to listen, “You might not see it, but Namjoon has been throwing the fight. His movements are impeccable and dangerously calculated. He’s been playing Jungkook since the beginning. There is no fight. The victor has been decided since the start. ” Hoseok and Yoongi had both been observing Namjoon since the commencement. The omega moves with finesse, each movement reinforced just enough to block Jungkook’s attack but never knock him down. By now Jungkook moves slower, is slacking, getting cocky since the older’s health count dropped to five but Namjoon isn’t even breaking a sweat. Every few minutes Namjoon would purposefully allow Jungkook to land a hit. Hoseok’s magic permits him to see the amount of magic each one is using. It’s a gift particular to his family. The more magic one performs the brighter they will glow. Jungkook’s numerous runes and strengthening spells practically set him ablaze. He’s a blinding pyre burning in the dead of night... but Namjoon? Namjoon is pitch black. He’s not using any magic. Namjoon scares Hoseok. Taehyung lifts his head from Jin’s chest, speculative, “What do you mean?” The submissive alpha incontestably sees their health counts. Jungkook’s still at 100. Namjoon a 5. Yoongi keeps his eyes honed onto the newest addition of their team. “Just watch.” As a paladin he trains the elite, but never has he seen someone at the omega’s level. Yoongi is sure that the rod must weigh a ton because Jungkook’s blades are made of Adamantium which is the rarest, strongest, and heaviest craft metal in the world. Those blades weigh as much as Yoongi’s double sided broad sword. Taehyung and Jin had gifted it to the beta as their mating gift. The blades shatter everything but itself if enough power is used. Jungkook has broken more weapons than Yoongi can count with those blades. The fact that Namjoon’s rod hasn’t turned to dust by now makes Yoongi come to the conclusion that it must also be made of Adamantium. Namjoon’s rod is easily 6 times the size of Jungkook’s blades which would mean it’s 6 times the weight of the maknae’s blades which is honestly impossible because Namjoon is swinging the rod as if it weighs no more than a feather. Namjoon decides to finally get the show on the road. He lifts the rod back behind him and whispers, “Uriel.” The rod hums, vibrating. Streams of bright yellow energy flow from his palms, enveloping and transforming the rod into a heinous scythe. The weapon is now completely black bordered silver with golden swirls. The omega’s eyes glow a vibrant purple and he smiles, disappearing. He looks like a grim reaper, Hosok determines. One that wouldn’t regret taking your life in a second with a smile on his face. Jungkook’s eyes widen, frantically scanning the room. Namjoon had been right in front of him! Namjoon suddenly appears behind Jungkook and swings the scythe. Jungkook never expected that much pain from one of the omega’s hits. He had let his guard down. The sheer force knocks him across the room at supersonic speed, slamming into the wall. Jungkook falls to the floor …. His health count? Zero. Winner: #05666 The omega’s facade cracks from its calm composure. His mind had been so focused on winning he barely held back. He knew he should’ve restrained himself more! Normal supernaturals couldn’t withstand his strength. Jungkook didn’t deserve the pain. Namjoon wills the the scythe to revert back to its original shape and slides it into place on his thigh while running over to Jungkook. He gently places the younger’s head on his lap who winces looking up at him,“Hyung, you gotta show me how you did that. That was so epic.” Jungkook remarks with a smile and a barely there grimace. Of course that’s what Jungkook would say. Namjoon laughs and subtly sends energy to Jungkook to stop the pain. “Let’s go eat together after the match alright? Consider it an I’m-sorry-I -totally-owned-you meal.” Namjoon offers, carding his fingers gently through Jungkook’s chestnut hair. “Promise?” The younger holds his pinky up blushing, “We’re still on for tomorrow too right?” Namjoon links their pinkies together while helping him stand. “Yeah.” Namjoon’s heart clenches. Jungkook reminds him of the boy so much. Maybe that’s why Namjoon doesn’t decline or discourage his offers. Why for the first time, he’s the one suggesting plans. “Oh my gosh! Thank you. Thank you. How’s Thursday afternoons sound?” Jungkook hugs Namjoon’s right arm and looks up. The omega tilts his head, “For what?” “Training sessions. That is if you’re free?” Jungkook pulls his puppy dog face. After the match he knew Namjoon would be the perfect teacher. His teachers never went all out while teaching. They were all afraid of hurting the regis’s mate. But Jungkook knew. He knew Namjoon wouldn’t hold back. He would push Jungkook to the limit and further. Namjoon thought about his schedule. On Thursdays he only had a back to back Chem and physics lecture in the morning. Jackson had English Lit. class so he usually just relaxed in the quad afterwards. “I’m free Thursday afternoons, but I’m a pretty strict teacher you know? You might hate me after the first session.” “You took Kookie down in one hit.” Jimin attempts to break the tension between them. “ Looks like I won’t ever need to be your knight in shining armor. Where did you even learn to fight like that?” “Not where, but who.” He recalls sparring matches at dawn, jogging in the evening, and strategizing at night. Jungkook removes himself from Namjoon and goes to Taehyung who smothers him, checking to see if any part of his body still hurt. “Hyung what is your weapon? You were like there one second and the next you came at me from behind and bam I’m out.” Jungkook playfully removes Taehyung’s hands and kisses them which makes the alpha crack a tiny smile only for his mate. “Yeah Joonie, I’ve never seen anything like it. At least not to that extent.” Hoseok spoke up next to Yoongi. Angels used something similar to Namjoon’s rod, but he has never witnessed it transforming into a whole different weapon. Namjoon unconsciously touched the rod, “It’s called the Divinity Rod. Every angel and nephilim can master the weapon in its rod form, but only nephilim can pursue the paths. Only high ranking nephilim use it really since it takes about two lifetimes to master one of its paths. ” Yoongi gazes at Namjoon while leaning on Hoseok’s shoulder, “Paths?” Namjoon is about to explain when he’s hit with a sense of despair and anxiety. Jin notes how confusion and hesitation flit across the omega’s face. It’s not Jackson, so it must be Jimin. Jackson’s feeling are always crystal clear, but Jimin’s feelings are woven into his. His feelings are Namjoon’s. He debates on whether to grab Jimin’s hand and entwine their fingers. Physical contact usually calms mates. Contentment flows between them the moment their hands touch. “Yeah. The rod has seven paths - each attributed to an archangel. The paths change the rod’s form. By mastering and meeting the path’s different stipulations, you unlock the path’s weapon form.” “What’s the name of the scythe you just used?” Hoseok faintly recollects stories, legends of an angel of death that harvested damned souls with a scythe. The question unlocks repressed memories. Commands. Loyalty. Execution. Namjoon ignores them. “Uriel-” “-The angel of death.” Yoongi finishes. As a paladin he had been taught to master the sword and shield as well as his mind. When he was a child he had been fascinated with the nephilim and angels. Much of his childhood resided in the library as his grandmother told stories of the nephilim and how they came to be. “An exchange and an endless love..”, she had said. “Each nephilim has an affinity for one of the paths. Sure we can master all of them, but there’s one that we’re a dedicated disciple of. Mine happened to be Uriel.” Namjoon fascinated Jungkook along with the rest of BTS. What could he have experienced to literally be an angel of death? Jungkook rushes over to Namjoon, practically bouncing with excitement. “ Hyung could I try holding your weapon?” “Jungkook it’s gonna hurt. Like a lot. The rod will reject you. There’s a reason the nephilim use it as their primary weapon.” The submissive beta pleaded, “Just for a second. I just want to feel it. I can deal with the pain.” “Okay, but literally I swear Jungkook only for a couple seconds. Any more and I’ll personally kick you into the next week.” Namjoon reaches down to the strapped rod and picks it up. He drops it into Jungkook’s palm and wills it to not react for a couple of seconds. He remembers how his hands had blistered and callused when the rod had first been presented to him. Jungkook’s eyes carefully examine the rod as he touches it carefully, the engravings rough. He turns it around in his hands. The rod was twice as heavy as his blades, so it must be made of Adamantium just like his blades, but he’s never seen Adamantium manipulated like Namjoon had done during the battle. Just the rod in this form was a heft object but as a scythe it must weigh a ton. “Alright Jungkook time’s up-” The rod starts sparking and burns Jungkook’s hands, forcing him to drop it. It clatters against the flooring, still with volts of energy surrounding it, warding off anyone who wasn’t its owner. “Hyung?” Jungkook thought he did something wrong while in reality it was anything but. His hand start to redden with welts appearing. It hurt a lot. Almost as if someone poured saline over lacerations then with alcohol. Namjoon hurriedly goes to pick it up. The rod stops producing the sparks when he comes into contact with it. The omega heads toward Jungkook about to apologize and heal his hand when Jin blocks the omega. His eyes flash red, “ Don’t come any closer omega. You already hurt my mate, how can I trust you?” Jin knew that Namjoon had warned Jungkook, but his mate had been hurt not once, but twice by the omega. The last time Jungkook had been hurt, Jin had made sure the offender had been hospitalized for more than a week… with trauma. Namjoon’s remaining nephilim instincts made him bristle. How dare this alpha command him? Speak to him like that? Why was a lowly demon so egoistic? Namjoon shrugs, “You have to. I’m the team’s eyes and brain during the match. It’s your choice on whether you want to win or not regis.” Namjoon had addressed Jin mockingly by his title. No one lives after that. Jimin, Yoongi, and Hoseok stare in shock. Who is this person standing in front of them? Where did the cute little submissive omega go? The answer is obvious. This is the #1 ranked submissive. A nephilim. The one who has been at the top, ten times in a row. Jungkook’s hands glow a soft silver and the pain wanes. It feels as if his hands are submerged into a poultice. The red welts fade back into his skin from a fervent rose to a nude tone. Within a few seconds, his palms looked as if nothing had happened in the first place. Jin’s two mates stare unbelievingly as the omega and their alpha are still in a stare off “It’s gone.” Taehyung’s deep voice whispered in awe. Jin turned around at that and rushed over to them. Is this why the nephilim were adored yet feared? There were no hand movements or uttered spells. Everyone had to chant at least, but Namjoon had healed Jungkook without doing anything. Namjoon is a walking juxtaposition. Both day and night. The breaking of dawn and sunset. Life and Death. All contestants please report to the debriefing area. The match time has been moved to 10:30 P.M. There’s a deafening silence as they travel to the room. The only sounds are their steps against the floor and the nearly silent buzz of the lights. Jimin finds it funny how the omega’s hands completely envelop his. Large soft hands and small calloused palms. Namjoon defines a walking contradiction. Although a submissive omega, he fights like a dominant alpha with a grace they would never be able to achieve. The cloak’s hood shields his mate’s face. Namjoon still doesn’t wish to disclose his identity and Jimin respects that. The omega must have a valid reason. The rest of BTS are in their standard battle gear: sleeveless black shirts, obsidian pants, onyx combat boots, and weapons strapped at various body locations. Jimin had thought he wouldn’t ever meet his mate. The emptiness from not having a mate had driven him to seek the rumored passion from strangers - anyone who could take his mind off the intense yearning for a mate...Was that why Namjoon had flinched? Because of his reputation? Jin swipes the team Identification card once they reach the double doors. The scanner beeps and the double doors automatically open. The debriefing room contains high-tec monitoring equipment that lines the dark wooden wall’s right side with a chair in front. The stone beige ceiling contrasts against the interior. There’s a round table with a screen embedded onto the top in the center of the room. Seven chairs surround the war table. “Sit down Namjoon.” Jin commands while dragging a chair out. The drafty room chills the omega’s skin as he sits. He can feel the rest of them staring. “Namjoon do you consent to joining the team?” “I do.” He bares his neck for the second time today. To join a competitive team each member must be marked by the leader. The leader and the person joining would then bite the other’s wrist and consume a small amount of blood. The pierced wrists would then be held together until the team insignia appeared on the initiate’s arm and the team bond established. A blood bond. This process pertains only to alphas and betas. For an omega, they follow the steps of the ritual blood bonding just like the alpha and betas, but don’t receive the team insignia. The team leader has to bite the omega’s neck and only then it would appear. It served as a warning for anyone who tried to mark an already taken omega against their will. “Here you go Jin.” Yoongi hands the ceremonial short blade over. It’s silver with dark runes etched on and infused with the spell needed to link Namjoon with the rest of them. Jin takes the blade and lightly drags it over his right wrist. Namjoon does the same. They drink the others blood, fangs piercing skin, and push their wrists together. Two spell circles appear encircling their wrists. It establishes the connection first with Jin then the rest of the members. The blood bond is only second to the mating bond. It allows the team leader to see the initiate’s true form for a brief moment and what Jin sees momentarily blinds him. It’s Namjoon… but not. He’s holding the scythe in all of its glory with a menacing smile on his face. A murderous look… but instead of white wings - one is white and the other black, spanning his back with flares of Phoenix fire. Once both their wrists are healed Jin lowers his head to Namjoon’s neck, biting the side opposite of the mating mark. He’s shell shocked. Namjoon’s blood tastes as decadent as both Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s. He should stop, but he can’t. The demon inside of him wants to drain Namjoon dry. It’s Taehyung that finally pulls him back. He’s disoriented. The vampire’s hands are checking Jin. Taehyung has never witnessed Jin losing control while forming the team bond for anyone. The demon’s pupils are blown just like when he’s feeding from Jungkook and Taehyung. “He’ll be fine in a couple of moments,” Namjoon drags a part of the cloak across his neck to wipe the remaining blood. “ It’s only a momentary blood high. Nephilim blood has that effect.” Jimin knows that he shouldn’t anguish over the fact that Namjoon had allowed Jin to drink from him. It was purely platonic, but drinking that much blood never sends someone into the stratosphere that quickly. Ever. Only your mate’s blood or a copious amount of any other blood can do that. Jin had barely drank a mouthful. “We have less than hour to prepare. Shall we?” Namjoon scooches the chair closer to the table and taps against the screen to turn it on. One by one they all seat themselves still stunned. Namjoon sits right in the middle with Jin across from him. A seat remains empty to his left. The omega looks up to see Jimin still standing. “Minnie?” Jimin goes to sit down. Would Namjoon avoid him after this? He faintly smells Jin on Namjoon. Jimin leans over to nuzzle mate’s neck. He freezes. Does Namjoon want this? Before he can return the seat, Namjoon tilts his head to the right, a signal that he’s okay with it. Jin is just coming to as Jimin smiles while rubbing his head on the team insignia. He returns to his seat once jasmine and mocha are completely intermingled. “Ok ok strategy planning time now lovebirds.” Hoseok says while opening the file on the battlefield. A holographic projection of the battle scenario appears as well as a description. Match: BTS VS. EXO Allotted Time: One hour Type: Melee Location: Forest Goal: 1000 points to win How to earn points: 1:1 ratio for health count reduction (so if someone knocks the opponent’s health count to 25, their team gets 75 points), Bonus 25 points for an out (when someone health count hits 0), 50 points for first blood, 100 points to infiltrate enemy team base “It seems as if they’re sticking to the standard rules, but in a jungle…. This is a first.” Jin comments while swiping his hand to the right. The holographic screen changes to a 3D model of jungle. “There’s something weird with this though. Why are there overlapping areas?” Namjoon studies the schematics, “They probably changed it after hearing I was participating. Most likely to see if I’m actually helping you.” The omega stands up and touches the circle which divides the jungle into 10 different squares. He starts rearranging, flipping, and mirroring them, “It’s going to be obvious I am after this…” “What are you -” Jungkook pipes up. His eyes widen as he sees the pieces coming together. “This is the real arena.” Namjoon taps areas where the pieces touch, highlighting them red, “These areas have traps or and my guess is, hypothetically and I’m saying it on a total whimsical guess that...” Namjoon circles three areas, “they’re going to pair the six of you off. Remember the whole ‘promoting unification and teamwork regardless of class’ spiel they had at the announcement assembly a few days ago? Going off of that I’m also going to hypothesize, they’re gonna pair alpha-alpha, beta-beta. Which means Jimin and Jin-ssi are definitely going to be paired up, but Jungkook and Taehyung-sii will be separated. One will be with Hobi and the other with Yoongi-ssi. I’ll be dropped off somewhere far away. There’s nothing the crowd loves more than seeing you either suffer and lose or demolish and conquer.” “The thrill of the chase…” Yoongi whispers. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” Namjoon turns his head to the left, wondering who had said that when plush lips land on his. Mocha. Fingers graze his neck before pressing on the mating mark, forcing a deep groan to emerge. Mate. The other hand pulls on the hair at the nape of his neck. Before it gets any more heated, he’s separated from Jimin. His cheeks flush when Jimin winks at him, tongue licking his lips and hand pushing his hair back. The omega’s heart really needs to stop. This push and pull is going to destroy them if they don’t talk about their relationship after all of this is over. Everything is too unpredictable, unstable… destructive. “Okay lovebirds. Break it up now. We’ve got a battle to win. You can deal with your needs after.” Hobi teases while Jungkook smirks at Namjoon from across the table. 15 minutes until match commencement. Contestants begin preparations. Namjoon tightens the laces on his boot and properly puts on the cloak like everyone else. Only parts of their faces are revealed. They all look exactly the same. Once the battle starts Namjoon will have to recon with the nearest pair. He stretches. 1 minute left. Participants please check your inbox for a special message. “What in the world do they have to fucking say? Honestly.” Yoongi exasperatedly declares while touching the hologram’s letter icon. Suprise! Each team’s omega must now actively participate in the arena. The new objective: Knock out the opposing team’s omega to emerge victorious. ASCIENTE! (let the games begin)

#bts fanfiction #bts

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gruntadminloch-moved · 7 years

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So I was thinking about differences between how I play Loch depending on the way he’s treated and

Most everyone’s muses acknowledge Loch as an Admin. Which is awesome! It’s cool and fun because honestly I didn’t expect people to do that!! So Loch wound up changing a bit from the original intent because most people acknowledge that he’s an Admin–from other members of Team Skull to most Guzmas I play with.

And then there’s @craniumaniac.

(That sounded terrible–I love them, but thinking about their Guzma and how we talked about Loch and Guzma’s relationship before I even started playing was what spurred my muse’s new fucking fire he’s ready to go tonight)

SO CRANIUMANIAC RIGHT? Love’s @plumeriaxskull to distortion world and ultra space and wherever else and right back down to earth right? Awesome shit. I love it, they love it, fuckin Loch loves it.

But also he’s. Jealous.

Not of those feelings, no, when Loch sees a Guzma in a ship he goes !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and he’s ec-fucking-static.

But those feelings result in Guzma not acknowledging Loch as an Admin and pushing away his dedicated behaviors–or, at least, that was what was discussed. May have changed. Subject to change at all times.

He actually finds it annoying, even, that Loch’s so obsessed with serving him. He says it’s not his job to worry over him and try and take care of him.

He’s jealous of Plumeria because Guzma says that’s her job.

Loch has a need to feel, well, needed. Approved of and accepted, especially, told what to do and what to think but above all if he doesn’t feel needed he’s kind of a mess. (I actually want to explore this with @rocbites and @tender–age–in–plume at some point. Because Jacks used to be his responsibility in a sense. And as Plumes helps him more and more he feels less and less like Jacks needs him around but that’s another plot for another day.)

The Loch you’ve been seeing is Admin Loch. Admin Loch is a bit more confident in his behaviors because they’re supported by his coworkers, underlings, and superiors. They tell him he’s an Admin. That he’s responsible for things and that his input and behaviors are valued. Not to say Craniumaniac doesn’t say this to him because as you may have noticed I don’t play with them much and holy hell i’d like that to change now that I figured out

Grunt Loch is a different character entirely. Sort of.

Admin Loch is supported and told he’s got these strengths and that he’s needed. He feels needed and wanted and valued. So he’s a bit more confident and calm–he feels set and comfortable in life. Grunt Loch feels less so. He doesn’t have that same support and he doesn’t feel like he’s needed. He’s happy to be tasked with things, but he’s a bit more erratic as he’s being forced to think for himself. And because Guzma doesn’t see him as an Admin, the grunts don’t see him as an Admin. It’s kinda like how his profile was written out originally. The grunts don’t see him as an Admin. But he feels like he’s supposed to be above them–so he snaps at them and is more authoritative because Guzma told him it’s his job to look after them, not him.

You might think, what’s the difference there? Why isn’t Admin loch that way, then?

Admin loch is an Admin. An Admin’s job is to take care of the Grunts as well as other things. The Grunts respect Admin Loch as an Admin, and cooperate with him–and even when they don’t, he knows that Guzma supports his being over them as far as hierarchy goes, so he’s not as bothered by their behavior. It’s his responsibility as an Admin to take care of the grunts.

Grunt Loch being told “take care of the grunts if they need help” is less being given a responsibility and more being given an order. He’s being told to perform the task–and he carries out Guzma’s orders with a great amount of seriousness. He’s more aggressive to them because he feels the need to make sure they know he’s above them and they have to listen to him and he really doesn’t know any other way to show that than to be cruel to them. Not because Guzma’s cruel, but because everyone before him was.

Grunt Loch tends towards more aggressive and erratic and anxious–and towards Guzma, he’s more pathetic and prostrates himself even more, but can be defiant because he feels like he needs to be treated like a servant. He feels like he needs to be told what to think and if he’s behaving okay. He needs to feel needed and approved of, and he doesn’t know how to appease his superiors any other way than being aggressively dedicated and servile towards them. If Guzma says “looking after me isn’t your job” he’ll even go as far as to say “yes!!! it is!!!!!”

He might even be masochistic–being scolded or punished for disagreeing would make him feel more like he’s in his place and knows where he stands, but if it never really comes it just makes him more frustrated and upset.

It’s like. Imagine you can’t swim. If you had some floaties, being put in the water wouldn’t be as scary. But if you’re shoved into the water and told to figure it out yourself then that’s terrifying.

Admin Loch’s got a sweet as pair of floaties.

Grunt Loch’s trying to grab onto the side of the pool and he can’t even do that.

(What’s all this have to do with being jealous of Plumeria?)

Taking care of Guzma is Plumeria’s job, says Craniumaniac. This might even be excusable if not for one other thing:

Loch’s either not an Admin due to extreme oversight or because Guzma can’t imagine someone else on Plumeria’s level, even if they’re capable, even if it’s just in name.

He adores her. He’s happy they love each other, too. He’s probably crushing a little bit on both of them. Maybe more than a little bit. He admires Plumeria endlessly–both as Guzma’s caretaker and the Team’s Big Sis. He serves her with the same passion and ferocity and wants to help her as well. But he can’t help but be jealous that she’s allowed to do all the things that he isn’t and that he feels he’s able to at least help with and that he’s accustomed to doing for superiors.

Admin Loch? Not that insecure. He’s allowed to do things. He checks on Guzma every two hours to see if he wants anything and that’s totally fine because it’s expected of him. If Guzma wants something he calls him and says “go get this” and Loch runs off to bring it back in 30 minutes or less or he’s allowed to knock his teeth out.

On top of that, Admin Loch often gets a concern of “why do you just sit here and wait for me? Don’t you do anything for yourself?”

Grunt Loch probably doesn’t get that concern. (Probably because he’s doubly stubborn about going anywhere anyway because he wants to be needed and not wander off from his work. Plus that time Craniumaniac kinda told him that if he catches himself not working he should probably go back to working.)

So it hit me that I kinda have two separate muses for the same character in a broader sense because. Loch behaves differently depending on how he’s treated by the person he sees as his superior. And since most people acknowledge him as Admin I imagine it’s a situation where Loch is considered an Admin by the Guzma implied as well.

So i think my grunt Loch muse ran off somewhere because “Master told me to go away” or something and bitch he didn’t mean leave this plane of existence he meant get out of his fucking room.

So now that Grunt Loch has been retrieved I feel extra fucking inspired and full of muse and fuck it I’m gonna get some fucking tags done. Hell, they aren’t even Grunt Loch tags(I mean I do owe Kaycee like three tags) but Admin Loch-muse I guess didn’t feel complete without Grunt Loch-muse around. He feels a bit better now, so I hope that'll help make things flow better

/flex emoji

#ooc | out of commands #headcanons | team skull's sacred traditions #long post #i wonder if i should tag them separately #for now i'll leave it but it is kind of a verse separation

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