#Reading that line made me so angry jfc

[king-wilhelm]

The fact that this abomination had to spend millions of dollars and cause extreme environmental pollution to get a grasp on the "Earth's fragility" is proof of how fucking out of touch he is with reality.

You had to get shot up to space??? To understand that the planet you live on is dying and that people are struggling? 90% of the world's population get a glimpse of this "fragility" he talks about on an everyday basis but of course he can't see it when he's drowning in money and live off of human exploitation.

This motherfucker IS one of the biggest reasons for the earth's fragility.

#jeff bezos #Capitalism #Elon musk #climate change #Space launch #Amazon #fuck bezos #Reading that line made me so angry jfc

[gffa]

#SOLAD SPOILERS and #SOLAD REPLIES if you want to either avoid spoilers or avoid the salt!  I would also encourage everyone to read the story for themselves, because people are going to see things differently, going to register things differently, and everyone should judge for themselves! Continuing the discussion from this post and this post @duchess-of-mandalore replied:

Thanks for clarifying this. I totally agree with this. The thing is, I don’t see it as “prioritizing the romantic relationship” as much as just … forgetting that other moments of rage already existed (I mentioned before that the author feels like a casual fan, and I’m sticking by that).

I think the author felt that because he chose to view Obi-Wan’s rage through The Lawless (which probably seemed like an attractive choice, given that it’s the highest rated episode short of The Siege of Mandalore), he had to keep the story about The Lawless (also, when you have to get through the whole episode and you only have 30 pages, I get that there’s a lot that needs to get glossed over).

But you can’t just pick one episode and examine it within the a vacuum.

Because you’re absolutely right. I’m a diehard Obitine shipper, but the author did not convince me at all that this is the first time Obi-Wan has felt rage. Far from it. There should have been much more about Qui-Gon (where Obi-Wan’s reaction feels much more rage-filled to me), and definitely more reflection on Maul, especially his taunting of Obi-Wan.

We’re obviously in agreement that this episode does not show rage. It shows grief. And so unfortunately, whether you’re an Obitine shipper or not, I don’t have much positive to say about this story, because it feels like a complete misrepresentation of this episode and the character of Obi-Wan Kenobi (in regards to his past, and how he’s feeling at this point in time), in a way that makes me wonder how it came to print in this current status.

It’s interesting how we interpret the amount of romance in this story, because I felt like it was very obvious that it was a romantic relationship, that Obi-Wan may have called her a “friend”, but also he repeats the line of how he would have left the Jedi Order for her, and I don’t think you can divorce that scene--or the entire Obitine relationship, honestly--from being a romantic one.  So, whatever they do with it, however it’s described, it’s very obviously meant as a romantic one, for me.  (Though, I can see how you feel it was the most aromantic version of their relationship yet and found it dissatisfying and I hear you on that.) Further, what frustrated me about the story was that it’s still a) fridging Satine for Obi-Wan’s manpain (not the fault of the story, that was already in TCW, but it’s important because--) b) not really Satine’s story.  I have two problems with this, in that it prioritized this relationship over Obi-Wan’s relationship with Qui-Gon, despite that Obi-Wan absolutely had dealt with rage before--in TPM!  In this anthology in the Maul story!, that even Anakin’s scene felt like it was half there just to put us in the frame of mind of comparing Obitine and Anidala. I found this frustrating because Satine deserves a story that’s hers.  Not Obi-Wan thinking about how she wore certain colors or flowers to remind Mandalore of what they could one day be again.  That’s a lovely sentiment, but give it to me from Satine, not from Obi-Wan.  And I found it frustrating because I don’t buy for one second that Obi-Wan didn’t understand why he couldn’t Leeroy Jenkins his way onto Mandalore and that he would be bitter about it.  Obi-Wan has always understood the politics and how and when to get around them, for him to throw that out the window felt like, oh, well, of course, because it’s Satine.  The romantic relationship.  But it’s also coming on the heels of using his relationship with Anakin to be about Obitine vs Anidala, it’s coming on the heels of swiping aside Obi-Wan’s using the dark side/anger in both fights with Maul because of Qui-Gon. It comes with the context of the description of how--in the moments I’ve giffed above--that Obi-Wan was feeling a rage so powerful that he would raze everything to the ground for it, because Satine died, and what brings him back?  Not his Jedi values that he lives his entire life by, but that Satine wouldn’t want him to.  I don’t buy for one second that Obi-Wan wouldn’t pull himself back because he lives by the principles his Order has taught him. lacependragon said: 

I can’t with long words or descriptions but I bought this ebook just to read this story to keep up on this conversation and jfc I have never been so disappointed. I know 12 year old boys who understand Obi’s character better than this.

I get that sometimes people just have different interpretations of characters and I realize we all get invested in our views of them, as well as I feel like a lot of the elements of this story are close.  Like, I was so intrigued by the idea of Obi-Wan struggling with the dark side!  Because the dark side isn’t just anger, it’s also fear and sorrow and suffering!  It would have been SO EASY to explore those things, because they’re written all over his face! Further, it ignores so much of the bigger context of Obi-Wan’s character, like just how important those other relationships are and how they’ve shaped him.  Understands anger in a new way?  Different from his anger at Qui-Gon’s death?  Because, yes, he was sorrowful after he’d cut Maul in half, but when he did that?  He was FURIOUS, it was right there on his face, too. thebiscuiteternal said: 

Excuse me? Obi-Wan, who paced and *snarled* at Maul behind the energy gates after Qui-Gon was impaled? *That* Obi-Wan had never felt rage towards Maul until he killed Satine? Oh, fuck this story.

I KNOW, RIGHT?  I’m not even the biggest defender of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon’s relationship (though, of course it’s important) but the sheer DISRESPECT of saying that Obi-Wan understood anger in a new way after Satine died in pretty much THE EXACT SAME MANNER as Qui-Gon! And @watsonerr says something I’ve been struggling to articulate well on this reply:

Another thing I didn’t agree with was how Obi-Wan kept being angry at the council, considering how he not only is not the type to ignore the bigger picture, but also how he knows well that sending republic troops there to free everyone would be extremly risky, especially that they were at war and the republic and Mandalore had a treaty. Exactly why I’ll stick with the deleted scene from The Lawless in which he says “The policies of the jedi and the chancellor often don’t meet eye to eye these days.” But at the same time, I also think it was probably meant to be this way, because Obi-Wan was emotional and had a clouded judgement the whole chapter for obvious reasons, and he fell right into Maul’s trap. And that’s a nice parallel to Obi-Wan’s attitude in Old Friends Not Forgotten, where he knew better than to let emotions cloud his judgement.

I’d be more forgiving if the final ending weren’t, “I understand anger in a way I never have before.” which makes it seem like Obi-Wan’s anger at the council was objective and not part of him falling into the trap of attachment.  I’m still not sure I could buy bitterness from him or the lack of understanding the political ramifications, but I’d at least be able to sort of see it. I mean, this is what he says in that same story:  “Few in the bustling hangar took notice of Obi-Wan as he approached his Eta-2 Actis-class interceptor. Things would be different on Mandalore. The presence of a Jedi on a planet struggling to remain neutral in the war between the Republic and the Separatists would do more than attract attention. It might be considered an act of aggression. It might lead to further violence—more death.” This is his way of convincing Anakin not to come along:  ““The presence of one Jedi on Mandalore will be hard enough to conceal. Two Jedi will be impossible. You’d put the mission at risk. And Satine.”” Yet there’s no acknowledgement of that when he thinks about why they won’t agree to send him?  I don’t buy that from Obi-Wan Kenobi, even if he would ultimately disagree with them. Overall, we’re definitely making mountains out of molehills with this, it’s really not that big of a deal, both in terms of IT’S JUST A MADE UP SPACE WOO STORY and that it’s not as heinous as it might sound from the conversation.  I’ll reread it in a few days and maybe it’ll come across better for me, I could easily see that happening!  As well as I’m sure there are going to be plenty of people who see it as perfectly in character for Obi-Wan! BUT WHAT WOULD THIS HELLSITE BE IF NOT FOR RIDICULOUS NERDING OUT?  THAT’S WHAT TUMBLR IS FOR.   😂

#obi wan kenobi #satine kryze #obitine #novels #meta #solad spoilers #solad replies #long post

[glittercracker]

Kingkiller Crap

So, I’ve never really posted much here that involves my own thoughts. There are a number of reasons why, but whatever. I feel the need NOW to post some thoughts, and having no working independent blog (yet!) I suppose this is the place to dump them. PSA: none of this is about anime. None of this is frivolous or fun. TW for sexual abuse. You have been warned! So. I’ve been rereading the Kingkiller Chronicles. aka “Name of the Wind” and “The Wise Man’s Fear” and “That Other One That Shall Not Be Named.” This reread was, at the beginning, almost an afterthought. A way to keep my 13 yo happy on a 7 hour car ride. Except, he could not have cared less, and I got sucked back into the story (and okay, if that is how all our audiobook car rides go, meh? At least it keeps me sharp!) I raced through book one, and bought book 2 on audible with an eye to my upcoming surgery and recooperation. Book one was problematic in the places I remembered, but also as generally engaging as I remembered. And then book 2 happened, and surgery happened, and I have had weeks to lie in bed listening to this bloody interminable sequel, and I find myself lost in a morass of, “WTF was I ever THINKING?” Namely, how did I ever love this book enough to pine for the next? It’s been hard to put a finger on exactly what is making this time through book 2 both a slog and also vaguely, creepily uncomfortable, but if you’re interested, my rather stream-of-consciousness ramble of thoughts ensues. First, the male gaze that rears its head at times in book 1 predominates here. But while I don’t love the way Kvothe describes women, I also have 2 degrees in literature, and I’m beyond that being a reason not to read an otherwise engaging book. Second, Kvothe is a Gary Stu, for all of Rothfuss’s protestations to the contrary. Again, so far, so much traditional high fantasy. But while, say, Aragorn is content to just quietly be Awesome At Everything, Kvothe is a braggy little shit of a Gary Stu: the person you hated for announcing their perfect scores in that hs class you could never quite master. I could fill several pages with examples, but for some reason what really made me want to kick him in the head was not Felurian’s disbelief of his virginity (though really, jfc, REALLY?) Nope, it was the end of his time w the Ademrae (sp may be off, remember, I’m listening not reading!) when he crows about having learned the history of his sword 2 days earlier than expected. Why does this stick out? Oh, idk. Maybe bc he sucks so hard he can’t even get past the first obstacle in his practical final exam? Yet he still has to tell us how fucking awesome he is for remembering 6000 names of previous owners.

I know, I’m supposed to forgive his teenage idiocy. The internet sympathists (no pun intended!) keep telling me this. And I suppose that I would, IF this were a simple first-person narrative - but it isn’t. Let’s repeat that, and really think about it. This story is being narrated by an older and presumably wiser Kvothe who has lost everything - whose abilities have been expunged to the extent that he can’t open his own chest of Cool Stuff. He shows humility in his actions, mostly. And yet when discussing his 16 yo self, the humility evaporates, and he speaks with no kind of perspective or lens of accrued wisdom. He still compares women to instruments waiting for the “right” player (i.e. him) and defends this choice of words by saying, essentially, “You aren’t a musician, you don’t know!”

Interesting assumption for an innkeeper in a medieval-esque world. Interesting assumption if this is in fact authorial interjection, too, because I suspect the majority of this book’s audience *are* musicians to at least an extent, and I also suspect that the majority of us (yes, us - I own several beloved instruments, including a harp custom made for me as a wedding present from my husband) would not equate a human lover to even the most beloved of instruments.

But all of this is well-trodden critical ground. As far as I can tell, though, my third issue isn’t: although it’s perhaps the most glaringly tone-deaf example of all of Rothfuss’s excruciatingly tone-deaf portrayal of his world’s women. Namely, the two girls kidnapped and gang-raped by the fake Ruh.

Almost all of the criticism I’ve read on this section of TWMF concentrates on Kvothe’s treatment of the girls’ abusers. What’s interesting is that no one ever seems to write about Kvothe’s treatment of the girls themselves. Yes, he treats them kindly. He tends their wounds, he feeds them, he tries (and succeeds, of course) to draw Ellie out of her shocked stupor. 

Yet what he never once does, from the moment he takes control of the situation, is ask their opinions on any of this, including what their next step should be. He just decides to bring them back to their families - families who, in this type of society, might well disown them for being “ruined”. And the girls themselves, namely the intelligent and savvy Krin, seem to go blindly along with what he says. Why? Would Krin at least not question this, or object to his making decisions for her, when a group of men had so recently and brutally taken away all of her agency? Would she not question whether being brought back to her family is the best thing for the catatonic Ellie?

Okay, apparently not. So they return to their apparently very forgiving town. Kvothe stands up for the girls against the village shithead: thank you, Kvothe, bc I’m sure Krin could not have said those words herself. He assures the reader that they are with people who will love and care for them despite what has happened to them: thank you, Kvothe, though it’s stretching my credulity a bit that you would assume that no one will take issue with their deflowering. But then he “gifts” the girls the spoils of his slaughter: the horses, the valuables, the wagons. And I was about to give him a (grudging) pass for being decent about this, EXCEPT: he goes on to say that these goods are meant for the girls’ dowries. Specifically, to make them worth enough financially for potential husbands to overlook their loss of virginity. He even tells Krin not to settle for a less-than-lucrative marriage.

And suddenly, I was outraged. Why? Because a man who had witnessed the full extend of these women’s abuse brought them back to a backwater town believing that he was being magnanimous both in doing so, and in giving up whatever share he might have taken of the spoils of the debacle to make them financially lucrative marriage prospects. Because he never asked these traumatized girls if they might rather cut and run with the money than use it to make some man overlook their abuse in order to make them his property. He never even questions the idea that they will be grateful to submit to marriage contracts that will no doubt require them to have sex with their husbands, even though these women have been abused to the extent that they cannot sit a horse for *two days* after being rescued. And the worst part is that 20-something frame-story Kvothe doesn’t question this either; he just goes on to gloat about people singing songs about his daring rescue. Maybe I was just ready for a straw to break my benefit of the doubt. Or maybe this really is as outrageous as it feels. Either way, I can’t help being angry at Rothfuss. As a writer, I am very well aware that character and author are not the same thing; that authorial intent is not the same as authorial beliefs. But there are moments in some books when I have to wonder if that line is blurring, and this is one of them. Kvothe has literally JUST left a female-dominated country full of independent women happily doing their own thing. He has given these girls the means to find themselves a situation that will never require them to be beholden to a man again - even houses ffs, in the shape of those 2 wagons, should they want them. There are so many options beyond marriage: I can’t, for instance, think of a medieval society that didn’t have its version of a convent. Or, for Krin at least, why not the University? For that matter, why not marry her himself, and then set her free to do as she likes under the awning of a respectable marriage? 

Instead he returns them to their fathers, and likewise gives their fathers the means to marry them off with no argument. Who, after all, holds the reins of the horses at the end? Why does Kvothe assume that these families will actually use the wealth even in the dubious way that he recommends?

And in this, I think, I am justified in giving Rothfuss the stink-eye. This is one more instance for Kvothe to play the hero with no real attention given to the consequences. Kvothe himself, I think, would be appalled. He has suffered so much deprivation in his life, so often been marginalized, scapegoated, powerless, how on earth could he so easily consign others to that fate? How could he think, loving Denna as he does, having heard her words to the beaten girl in Severin, that buying these girls husbands who will “overlook” their abuse for the sake of wealth is anything but a wretched life sentence for them?

Sigh. There was a time when I desperate awaited book three. Now, given the other women’s lives at stake in this series, I’m not so sure I want to know.

#kingkiller chronicle #kvothe #patrick rothfuss #wise man's fear #Kingkiller chronicles sexism #kvothe gary stu #kkc sexism

[tros-for-dinner]

The first tros Force Skype scene is....................a mess

Like, okay, animosity between them in TROS I can understand. In TLJ they thought they could trust each other and then it turned out they disagreed on something so fundamental it couldn’t be reconciled at the time. They both failed miserably at what they wanted in TLJ - of course they’re going to be hurt and resentful.

But this? Is like they’re not even having the same conversation. 

Rey is hurt and angry, okay, fine, I expected that. But Kylo?

He’s just standing there. Like a bump on a log. There is literally nothing threatening about his body language. In fact, the music and sounds just stop, for a whole beat. We have this big dramatic zoom in on Rey and the music crescendoes....! Cut to Kylo, and there’s a full beat of conspicuously dead silence. Absolutely no menace to justify the big dramatic moment prior to his appearance. When he speaks, there’s no preamble, no lead-in, just: “Palpatine wants you dead.”

Missed opportunity: using Driver’s fantastic acting ability to convey that Ben still cares deeply about her, and he’s deeply conflicted about the price of the army ol’ Palps gave him. OR, and this is just a crazy idea I had: actually have him act menacing. I’m not picky. Choose the aesthetic and commit to it! As it is, I honestly can’t tell what the character is feeling here.

Okay, fine, viewing the scene through the headcanon he’s conflicted. Rey replies with a question that makes decent sense: “Serving another master?” She’s hurt they didn’t work out, they’re bitter exes, whatever, she spits in the face of his concern and goes for the low blow. It’s a direct hit, by the way - he was raging across the galaxy, ‘destroying every threat to his power’ and now he’s working for The Man again.

“No,” he replies shortly, not rising to her taunt. “I have other plans.”

But then, without even a pause to breathe, he says, and I quote, “I offered you my hand, once. You wanted to take it. Why didn’t you?”

I’m conflicted about this line. On one hand, this line could have been gold in the hands of a competent director. On the other hand, it’s such a non-sequitur in the context of the scene my head is spinning. (Just a little pause, with them looking at each other in anguish over could-have-beens, would’ve made this line make sense.) In the gripping hand - maybe it’s been too long since I’ve seen TLJ, but he knew exactly why she didn’t take his hand: she was holding on to the past, wasn’t ready to be her own person and choose the things she wants yet, whatever. And I know that TROS is just a big retcon, but I read a lot of retcons and often enjoy them - the filmmakers didn’t execute this retcon with even the barest amount of competence. I might revisit that statement when I watch the “fight on the ocean” scene but I’m reasonably sure all she says is, “I wanted to take your hand. Ben’s hand” but doesn’t give any kind of reason why she didn’t. Literally all they had to do was have her say “I was afraid (because the unknown is scary)”, because technically that’s the truth (alternatively: ‘vulnerability is scary’ ‘the mortification of being known’ etc et). It was all setup and no payoff.

Her reply to this question is: “You could’ve killed me. Why didn’t you?”

...What?

Again, maybe it’s been too long since I’ve seen TLJ but he doesn’t try to kill her directly face-to-face in that movie (yes he has his troops fire on the Falcon BUT that isn’t him personally trying to kill her mono-e-mono). I have no idea what event she’s referring to in this line. “This is a retcon!” you remind me impatiently - and then I remember TFA exists. “Well, maybe she’s referring to when they first meet for the first time and she’s wildly firing her blaster at him and he subdues her with ease? Because she definitely isn’t talking about the Forest Lightsaber Fight where she soundly kicks his ass and would’ve killed him if the Force hadn’t intervened.”

The point is, I have no idea what event she’s referring to, I can’t tell what this rebuttal has to do with he question he asked - it feels like another non-sequitur. I’m reeling with confusion.

(Were they both rhetorical questions or were they genuinely asking? .........Neither of those options make any sense!)

Then Kylo says, “You can’t hide, Rey. Not from me.” The first half of that could be interpreted as menacing or threatening, if that’s the vibe the director wanted. The second sentence is definitely said in a plaintive or longing tone. I’m a broken record here, but without body language or facial cues this line makes no sense and falls flat, AND more importantly, I have no idea what it has to do with Rey’s nonsensical question.

As I’m gripping the arms of my chair to alleviate my overwhelming vertigo caused by the directions this conversation has taken, Rey fires back with, “I see through the cracks in your mask. You’re haunted. You can’t stop seeing what you did to your father.”

Oh my god, girl, we have been over this. And what a irritatingly unoriginal line. He’s got a kintsugi mask! She can see cracks in it!!! Get it?!?!

*tony stark rolling his eyes.gif*

Kylo doesn’t rise to this attack. “Do you still count the days since your parents left?” he asks, and he starts to move again, stepping forward slowly. “Such pain in you, such anger. I don’t want to have to kill you. I’m going to find you, and I’m going to turn you to the darkside. When I offer you my hand again, you’ll take it.”

Where the eff do I begin?

Pain, anger - fine, that makes reasonable sense to Rey’s character. “I’m going to turn you to the dark side” = boring, tired Star Wars Villain(tm) Dialogue bc the writers were hacks, fine. “I don’t want to have to kill you”?? Bitch say what??? He literally led this conversation with “Palpatine wants you dead” and I was guessing he was saying that with concern. Guess I’m back at the drawing-board in that regard. Furthermore, he still hasn’t figured out why she didn’t take his hand in the first place, why the fuck would she take his hand now, after a thinly-veiled threat??? Christ on a bike. What does this version of Kylo hope to accomplish? In order to Seduce Turn Someone To The Dark Side, you have to offer them something they want. This block of dialogue tells me Kylo has no clue what Rey wants, and that he will fail abysmally at his goal of ‘turning her to the dark side’. (On a more meta level, it shows that the writers had no idea how someone Turns To The Dark Side: the writers are assuming the Dark Side is like a fungal infection that will pass from Kylo to Rey if he gets too close to her 😑)

Missed opportunity: when he says the line, “Do you still count the days?” I could interpret that as him asking in a very roundabout way, ‘do you still miss me as much as I miss you?’ This block of dialogue could have been a moment of him trying to rebuild a bridge: “I’m going to keep reaching out to you,” he could have promised her, “until you take my hand.”  Alternatively: literally all the writers had to do is have Kylo offer something to Rey that she wants. The fundamental problem with that is, Rey doesn’t want anything in this movie. Rey Palpatine is a cardboard cutout who doesn’t experience icky things like character development, consequences of bad decisions, or sexual desire. She exists to Fight The Villain and worship at the altar of the OT to the point of fetishization.

“We’ll see,” Rey spits back, and I’m 99% sure this line is a callback to TFA. Doesn’t Kylo say this to her during the interrogation scene? Or am I imagining that? Even so, what’s the point of echoing that dialogue? “Oh noes the fungal infection Dark Side Badness reached her through the Force!!!!”????

......JFC I’m only 24 minutes into this movie. 

#tros roast #long post #jj is so allergic to emotion it isn't funny #missed opportunities #the mind killer #drag 'em! #profanity #to be very clear here my problem is with the writer and director #Driver was just following the director's orders #ALSO it didn't occur to me until I wrote this #that in every SW movie it's 'seduced by the dark side' #but the writer/director were so anti-Reylo they nixed the 'seduced' #lmaooooo #i used fungal infection as the metaphor bc humans usually don't get those unless their immune system is comprimised #so the metaphor goes 'if you're compromised by pain and anger the dark side can infect you' #i don't consider the dark side to be necessarily evil #so my assumptions conflict with the filmmakers' anyway #food for thought #tros negativity #anti dlf

[supernaturalfreewill]

Your name: submit What is this?

Words: 4,686 Demon!Dean x Reader Warnings: Swearing? There MIGHT be some naughtiness. Maybe. Maybe not. A/N: About goddamn time, right? Jfc. I'm the worst! This is part of a series! Read the other parts first! Part 1 :: Part 2 :: Part 3 :: Part 4 :: Part 5.

You couldn’t help letting out a surprised laugh. “What, you’re stealing my bit now?” you asked him, trying to keep your tone unconcerned. “You know, the sudden and mysterious appearing is supposed to be my thing.” You turned on your bar stool and faced him.

His green eyes were surveying you. “I had a very interesting conversation with Sam, Cas, and Crowley recently,” he said, casually sitting down next to you and flagging down the bartender for a beer.

You let out another careless laugh. “God, Crowley is still around? I really thought Sam and Cas would have skewered him by now.” You kept your eyes toward the shelves of liquor behind the bar now but you could feel Dean’s on you.

Dean ignored you and forged ahead. “They told me somethin’. Something about you.”

You drained the rest of your beer, pulled a wad of cash out of your pocket, and tossed a generous amount down on the bar. “Look, I can see what you’re doing here, trying to be all vague and intriguing but there’s one important thing you forgot,” you said.

“And what is that?”

You looked him squarely in the face. “I really don’t give a shit.” You strode to the exit and headed down the block toward the shitty motel you had been using as home base, trying to shake off how strangely intense seeing Dean so suddenly was. You wondered if he had felt that way when you surprised him. It was like someone jerked on a knot you didn’t know you had deep in your chest. You were throwing all your gear back into your duffel bag, grabbing your jeans off the floor, tossing in your knife, when the hotel room door burst open. The silhouette was instantly recognizable.

”What the fuck are you doing?” you barked. “I shouldn’t need to spell this out for you again, Winchester.”

“‘Dean,’” he said seriously, pacing toward you.

”What?”

“You never call me ‘Winchester.’ You call me ‘Dean.’”

He was only a few feet from you now. The humid outside air was streaming in through the open door, making the atmosphere in the room suddenly feel thick and heavy. “I thought I made myself pretty clear during our last little rendezvous, but your skull is apparently thicker than even I estimated.”

“Then why haven’t you killed me yet?” he challenged you.

“I don’t think you want to,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. His voice was low and for some reason, perhaps because of the unacknowledged truth behind his words, it sent a shiver running up your spine.

You could feel your breathing and pulse quicken but you rolled your eyes and simply reached for your duffel bag. But Dean’s hand closed around your arm.

Your eyes shot up to meet his. “Let go of me,” you said dangerously.

He didn’t move. He was extremely close to you now, and his hand clasped onto your arm felt white hot.

”I mean it, Dean. I’m not asking.”

He studied you fervently, his green eyes narrowed and burning into yours. “You’re running,” he said.

”I don’t have to run from anything.” You yanked your arm away from him.

”Then why are you?”

”Fuck you. You don’t know anything about me! You think because you’ve been tailing me all over the country like a lost puppy that you have me figured out?”

Dean’s breathing was hurried now too. “I know enough,” he said. “I know what you’ve been doing and now I think I know why. I also know that despite the rumors flying around you aren’t the least bit interested in taking over Hell. But I’m not about to tell Crowley that.”

He had your attention.

“You’re running because you’re angry. And afraid,” he said.

You let out an audible scoff. You blinked and your eyes went black. “What could possibly be scaring me? You of all people should know what this feels like.”

Dean nodded. “I do know. That’s the point.”

You started to turn away. “You’re wasting my time. If you know what I’ve been doing, which I don’t doubt because of the aforementioned trailing me all over Creation, then you know I have an endless line of targets.”

Dean chuckled to himself and your eyes flitted over to him involuntarily. “You really are the worst demon,” he said. There was an annoying boyish smirk on his face. You felt a swell of anger rise like a rogue wave in your chest.

”What the hell did you just say to me?”

“It’s pretty obvious from the look on your face that you heard me,” he responded. “You can’t even go out as a demon and kill just to kill. Don’t you see that? You’re killing shitty humans and your own kind. It’s like some part of you still needs to justify what you’re doing, some corner of your black little demon heart isn’t completely giving in to the chaos.” He laughed again. “It’s kind of hilarious if you think about it. You’re not free at all.”

You glared at him and ignored the obnoxious tightness in your throat, doing your best to brush off some stupid feeling Dean had elicited. Why did that keep happening? You gathered your gear up again, turned your back on him, and made a step toward the door but his next words froze you in place.

“It doesn’t help, does it? The killing. Not really.”

When you didn’t make any other move to leave, Dean continued. “You’re just doing it to occupy your time. You’re trying to fill that emptiness that you think is going to consume you. That’s the thing you don’t know about being a demon until you are one: it’s rage, and it’s freedom, and it’s violence, and it’s power, but it’s all empty. You can’t feel things like a human can. Drugs, booze, sex. Even the highest, most heightened sensations are deadened compared to before. No wonder Crowley started shooting up with human blood…”

”Crowley’s weak,” you retorted.

Dean laughed and nodded. “It’s all relative.”

You wouldn’t turn to face him.

”But you’re furious. You didn’t choose this. You didn’t choose this emptiness. It was forced on you. And part of you blames me, because if I hadn’t gone darkside and refused to come back or to play nice then Crowley would never have turned you.” Dean’s voice was casual. He was keeping it forcibly so. He knew if the words he was saying were right he didn’t need to inject them with intensity, and the fact that you were still standing there, the breeze coming through the open motel room door sending your hair fluttering, told him he was right. “So you’re angry at the emptiness that you didn’t choose, but you’re even more afraid of the fact that, even as a demon, I’m the one thing that makes it stop.”

You turned around to look at Dean, keeping your expression emotionless at first before coercing it into what you hoped was a smug smile. “Isn’t that typical? The world revolves solely around the arrogance of Dean Winchester. Here’s some advice: stop projecting your bullshit onto me, Dean.”

“Face it. We’re connected. And you’re running scared.”

”Or perhaps it’s just possible that you’ve got the whole thing wrong,” you retorted. Your heart was hammering inside your chest, but you concealed your nerves, refusing to acknowledge that if Dean was wrong you wouldn’t have nerves to conceal.

Now he was getting a little angry at your obstinacy, at your denial when he felt he had just bared much of himself that was left. He knew he had it right. “I know you felt it,” he demanded.

“The only thing I feel now is my blade when it goes into my target.” You started to turn to leave, but just then Dean made a move toward you as if he planned to grab onto you again. Instinctively you flicked a hand up and he was sent flying into the opposite wall, his back colliding with the drywall and leaving a mark like a meteor had just struck.

As he climbed to his feet you adjusted your duffel bag on your shoulder and finally turned to leave again but there were suddenly three other demons in the room. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, immediately dropping your bag again. “I’ve told you to stop—fucking—following—me!” you yelled.

Dean was shaking off the stunned feeling left from colliding with the wall, but he quickly snapped out of it when you raised a hand, palm out, and the three demons who had just arrived disintegrated. Not exorcised, or killed with a demon-killing knife, or a spell… Disintegrated. To three piles of ash. The next instant, you and your gear were gone. Dean watched the ash catch and drift in the current of air still streaming in from outside.

What the fuck had he just seen? Shit. Maybe Sam, Cas, and Crowley had it right. You’d thrown him, a fucking Knight of Hell, across the room like it was nothing and then vaporized demons and their vessels in a split second. Fuck.

_ _ _ _ _ _

If demon blood could boil within veins, curdle and roll as it pumped through a vessel, yours was positively bubbling over. You kicked out at the nearby coffee table with a wild scream of frustration and sent it sprawling and splintering across the room. You could feel your entire frame heaving up and down as you breathed. Anger was seething out of your pores.

You stared down at the corpse on the floor in front of you. The pool of blood from her slit throat was so dark that it was almost black on the beige carpet where it had soaked in. The top of the saturated layer was dry and flaky. She’d been dead a while. At least a day. You jammed your clean knife back into the sheath at your hip. You stared down at the extinguished husk before you. Fuck. You had been really looking forward to offing this bitch too. She was nearly as bad as they came.

There was no sign of a struggle in the house besides the coffee table you yourself had destroyed. The doors were all bolted and chained from the inside. The windows were all in perfect condition, latched and whole. If you didn’t know any better, you would have said you had done the job yourself.

You shut your eyes and when you opened them again you were hidden in the shadows of a copse of trees in the backyard. You glanced around you slowly, willing there to be a shift in the shadows, a hint of movement. Something for you to chase down. Something explaining your spoiled planning.

This was the fourth time this month you had selected a target, did careful surveillance, stalked them, learned their habits, and showed up for the kill to find that someone had done it first. And not just the fourth target; four targets in a row. One was perhaps a coincidence. These people were garbage: child abusers, murderers, rapists… There were probably plenty of people who wanted to off them for the same reasons. You could have believed maybe even two were a coincidence. But three? Four? In a row? No fucking way.

This was deliberate. This was fucking deliberate.

Another failed hunt. Your fingers went to the hilt of your completely clean, unused knife. You felt like you had an itch you couldn’t scratch. You were unsettled. You rocked your weight from side to side, still peering around your surroundings. Nothing.

Suddenly you felt sick. What the fuck was this? Someone or something was messing with you. You didn’t need two guesses about who it was likely to be. Another wave of rage rose in your chest and threatened to swamp over you completely. Your vision even tinged a little red at the outside, like blinking through blood in your eyes. Your jaw clenched. He was trying to take away your sense of control? Sense of purpose? Why? Because you had told him to fuck off? Because he’d revealed too much to you and now was trying to exert his power? Because you’d tossed him into the wall? Your hands clenched into fists. Truthfully, the reason didn’t really matter.

Dean Winchester just couldn’t leave you alone.

The question now was how was he doing it? It’s not like you were easy to follow when you moved between jobs. You didn’t walk or drive from place to place. You were a demon. You wanted to be somewhere and you were instantly there. Sure, once you were in a new town, you’d steal a car you liked and travel like you used to. You’d walk to and from the bar or whatever hotel you were calling home that week. Well, that was over. No more human bullshit. You’d zap yourself anywhere you wanted to be from now on.

With that thought, you were back at the motel. You glanced around the room, checking to see if anything had been moved.

It all looked the same as when you had left. You grabbed a beer from the fridge and kicked off your boots. You let yourself fall backwards onto the bed, mimicking the stupid trust fall move companies seemed to think bonded their employees at forced “professional development” workshops. You stared up at the cobwebs clinging to the textured ceiling. You didn’t feel anything now. You were just numb. You shut your eyes.

Then the sick feeling returned. You pulled yourself up so your back was against the headboard and were just about to crack open your beer, shoving down that hollow feeling when it suddenly evaporated of its own accord. The hair on the back of your neck suddenly stood on end. There was a sensation like all the air had been sucked from the room. You felt like electricity was crackling over your skin.

You didn’t need to look. Your jaw clenched.

Your hand flew to your knife and in a fluid movement you pulled it from its sheath and sent it smoothly sailing, toppling in the air, hilt over blade, straight at Dean.

But it didn’t meet its target in the way you had intended. He was prepared this time. He was ready. He caught the blade between his fingers deftly, like it was the easiest thing in the world. And maybe it was… for a Knight of Hell.

“You son of a bitch,” you spat at him, climbing to your feet.

“I missed you, too,” he said, examining your knife carelessly now. There was a half-smirk curving his lips and you suddenly remembered when you had drunkenly punched him in the face, right in that cocky smile, back in that motel when Crowley had kidnapped you—a lifetime ago.

His green eyes lifted and landed on your face. Your heart began to race.

“Not much point throwing this at me, is there?” he said. He flung the knife straight down where it stuck upright into the carpet.

You didn’t say anything. You were tensed from head to toe. You wanted to scream at him. You wanted to tear him to pieces. But you couldn’t. It was like your feet were rooted to the floor.

Something about your expression made him smile and laugh lightly. He stepped over the knife and surveyed you from a few feet closer, narrowing his eyes slightly, looking like he was trying to read your thoughts. “You look like you’re thinking about the best way to dismember me,” he said. There wasn’t a trace of fear in his voice, which only further infuriated you.

“I want to know how you’re doing it,” you demanded.

“Doing what?” The stupid smile was still on his face.

“You know what.”

He raised his eyebrows at you but said nothing. Dean wandered over to the fridge and took out a beer. He twisted off the top and was about to take a sip when—

There was a sharp crack accompanied by a pop, followed by an exploding fountain of beer which splattered all over Dean.

You couldn’t prevent the tiniest satisfied smirk from turning up one corner of your mouth as you looked at him, now dripping wet and covered in foam.

Dean licked the beer dripping down to his lips and blinked a few times. The next instant he was clean and dry again. “Alright,” he said, clearing his throat. “Fine. We can play that way.”

The next moment he was gone. You waited—heart and breath stalled—your eyes searching the room a bit frantically. You willed your body language to stay the same, to not show that he was unnerving you. Then that electricity seemed to crackle up your back again…and you went rigid at the sensation.

“Y/N.” His deep voice was low, the familiar gravel sounding right in your ear. The next moment you could feel his breath on your neck. “You can’t tell me you don’t think about that night,” he whispered. You felt frozen. He was standing so closely behind you, if you just wavered back an inch you’d be pressed against him.

Move. Do something. What are you doing!? The voice in your head was almost screaming. But the memories came rushing back and you were suddenly overwhelmed, as if you were there—as if you had transported back into that moment. The same emotions, the same feelings. It was so strong and so sudden that it almost crippled you. You let out an involuntary gasp and squeezed your eyes shut. You felt your knees buckle and the edge of the bed beneath you. Your fingers clutched the blanket.

It was too much. You shoved it down. You gasped for air. You fought it. You fought it. You pushed it back. You surfaced, completely unbalanced but again in control, heaving breaths and waiting for the horizon to steady.

To your surprise, Dean wasn’t smiling now. He was staring at you with keen interest, studying your expression. You felt that your eyes were wide and that your lips had fallen slightly open. You adjusted. You closed off. Dean watched it happen. He watched you retreat into that cold stare.

“Don’t,” you warned him.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t do that.”

His voice was calm. “All I did was remind you of what happened.”

Your breathing was hurried again, making up for the long moment when you felt like you were drowning. “Don’t,” you said again.

“Or what? You’ll run?” he challenged you. “I’ll find you. Again. And again. And again.”

You stood and faced him with a steely expression. You watched him recoil and put a hand up to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. When they opened again, there was anger there but also something else you couldn’t quite define.

He didn’t look cocky or confident anymore. You had sent another flash of your corpse into his mind.

He tried his best to recover, arranging his face into a casual smirk, though not without some difficulty. “How if that fair? I remind you of the good times and that’s what I get back? Hardly fair.”

“Fair? You want to talk about fair? Tell me how! Were you just—were you following me? Did you send someone or something to follow me? How did you know where I would be, who I was after next? I want to know! You are taking away the one thing--” you stopped yourself before you revealed too much.

Dean didn’t answer. He just watched you starting to spiral.

“Why won’t you just leave me the fuck me alone?!” You were squaring off with him. “Just go—just go get drunk and do blow or whatever the fuck you’re into now and fuck whoever you like and leave me the fuck alone!” A force like a shockwave shot outward from you, but Dean was ready—he had steeled himself and it only pushed him back a couple steps.

“Leave you alone? You started this whole thing!” he argued back, his voice raised for the first time. There was a flash of lightning outside and the unmistakable bass of thunder rolling.

You scoffed. “Me?”

“Yes! You, Y/N! You! I didn’t turn you! I didn’t do that! That was ALL Crowley! But as soon as you’re back, I’m getting punished! You’re sending me—” he actually stopped and let out a noise like a frustrated growl, “You come back as a demon and the first thing you do is start shoving images of your dead body into my fucking head! And now you want me to leave YOU alone?!”

You actually started laughing sardonically. “You are such a fucking prick. You still have no idea. You know what? I’m not going to explain it to you. You can figure it out, Einstein.”

“Oh, now you’re done? Now we’ve hit your limit?” Dean started advancing on you. “Go on, Y/N. Go ahead. Run away from it. Like I said, I’ll find you. Eventually you’re going to have to face it.”

You felt heat rising into your face. “Face what, Dean?” you challenged him.

His jaw clenched and his eyes were flitting between yours, stormy and intense, but he was less than a foot away from you now. The next instant he was kissing you.

You stumbled back in shock and pushed him away from you. “What the hell are you doing?” you gasped.

Dean gave a vague shrug and stared at you incredulously. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. “I—I feel like that should be pretty obvious at this point.”

You ripped your eyes away from the fire burning in his and started to rush toward your bag of gear, ready to grab it and be gone, but Dean was suddenly right there again, blocking your way.

“Move.”

“No.”

“Dean—“

For some reason, he smiled. “No. I’m not moving. If you want me to move you’re going to have to make me. And we both know you’re capable of it.”

But you didn’t. You could have sent him flying across the room. You could have pulled the building down around him. You could have disappeared. You didn’t need your bag of clothes and gear—it was all replaceable. But you didn’t. You stood rooted there unable or unwilling to break the eye contact you had with Dean. You could hear a torrential rainstorm outside.

Dean took another small step toward you. You tried to ignore how the closer he got the faster your heart beat.

He hesitated for a moment, trying to read what was going on behind your eyes but he found it impossible. He reached a hand up and slid it into your hair, his fingers floating down the side of your neck and tracing down to your collarbone. His expression was hungry, almost desperate.

You felt yourself crumbling. “Move.” It came out as a whisper, and Dean could hear the emptiness, the weakness. It wasn’t a command. It was like you were begging him not to.

He licked his lips as his eyes flitted down to yours. “Make me.”

You crashed into him, colliding. The heat between the two of you was instant and you were ready to be consumed, to give into it. Dean kissed you hungrily, biting your bottom lip, his fingers tangled in your hair, one hand grabbing your hip. You pressed into him, wanting more, needing more, and you both toppled backward until his back hit the wall.

Dean suddenly had both your wrists in his hand and he spun you forcefully until he had you pinned up against the wall. Both of you were out of breath, drinking in each other with hungry eyes. Dean kissed you hard and his lips moved to your neck, to your collarbone. He bit at your earlobe and you couldn’t stifle the gasp that left your lips. He released your wrists and you slid one arm around his neck, your fingers sliding into his hair. Your other hand slid up under his shirt, pressing into his lower back, pulling his hips into you. You wrapped a leg around him and bit his bottom lip as he slid his hands over you tracing your waist, the curve of your hips, one sliding around to grab your ass.

The thunder outside cracked and rolled and flashes of lightning made their way through the edges of the curtains. It was a complete downpour outside, but neither you nor Dean heard any of it.

Dean pulled off his jacket and you stripped off his shirt. His hands found the hem of yours and did the same. Your kissed him hungrily and unbuttoned his jeans, your fingers tracing over his stomach and back as he kicked them off. Dean lifted you up so you were straddled around his hips and carried you over to topple you onto the bed. He dropped you down and you bit your lip as he undid the zipper and button on your jeans and tugged them down.

There was unmistakable desire in his eyes and you felt your chest and cheeks flush with the same. Dean trailed kisses from your hips up your sides and up your chest. He pinned your arms above you with one hand and slid the other into your hair, pulling it hard enough to turn your head and hold it there so he could kiss your neck.

Soon you were both just skin on skin, and you gasped as he pushed inside you, your fingernails digging into his back. Dean smiled at your reaction and relished your hand splayed out on his lower back, and the feeling of your skin like silk against his. You wrapped your legs around him and both of you were consumed with tingles and electricity skittering over your skin. The building heat between you was rising to a peak and you kissed each other hungrily. Dean pressed into you and waves of pleasure traveled down to your toes. His kiss became less hungry, less desperate, and softer. You both gasped out of breath, heat radiating between you, and now completely consumed by the realization that neither of you had felt anything like that, like this in your entire lives, as humans or demons. No other sensation since Crowley had turned you had been even a modicum of this intense. Even your rages and violent retribution paled in comparison…

You looked into each other’s eyes, bewildered and spent. Dean settled down next to you, a hand still draped across you resting on your hip. You were both reeling. He reached over and smoothed a hand through your hair. There was something questioning in your eyes that made him laugh.

You bit your bottom lip and mouthed wordlessly for a moment, which only made him laugh a little harder.

“That was—uhh…” Dean couldn’t find the words and just cupped your face in his hand and kissed you passionately again. “…Yeah.” He flopped down on the pillow beside you. “Did you know that that would be—?”

You shook your head, knowing your cheeks were pink, the heat still blooming there. “No,” you said, biting your bottom lip. “Did you?”

A small smirk curved one corner of his mouth. “I had a hunch,” he said.

The question was still there in your eyes. “What?” Dean prodded you.

“I guess I’m just trying to reconcile what just happened,” you said.

Dean raised his eyebrows. “With?”

“With how much I wanted to kill you right before it happened,” you said, baffled.

Dean let out a gruff laugh. “Yeah. Yeah… Give it some time.” He gazed up at the ceiling for a moment. “Would it help if we did it again? You know, to help you reconcile?”

There it was. A genuine smile. And goddamn wasn’t it beautiful. Dean had been wanting to see that since he’d woken up as a demon. Nothing else in the world came close.

#supernaturalfreewill #demon!dean #demon!dean x reader #reader insert #dean winchester #squirrel #dean imagines #dean fanfics #dean x reader #spn #spn fanfics #spn imagines #gif imagines #supernatural #team free will

[onyourzeus]

sorry, felt the need to vent i dont really have people to talk to about this kind kf things yk, people wouldnt really understand :( the few days has been hell, woth the streamers and kpop stans feud going on, everythings so fucked up. im kinda disappointed in her bc i liked her so much and she went and did that, it hurts so bad, and shes also jae's friend which doesnt help the case. unfollowed her everywhere for peace of mind, i just had to bc its getting too much. again so sorry for venting :(

hey, pls don’t apologize for venting ur feelings. i’m honestly ok with that and i hope writing things out this way gave you a sense of comfort in a way. :( i read through all your messages, and i sympathize with your sentiments. 

this is one of the reasons why i don’t stay long enough until the end of his streams anymore because it’s been a regular occurrence that every time he’s on there, shit hits the fan for reasons it shouldn’t. but ofc, he has to be involved and he has to atone for thy sins and it’s just too frustrating for me to handle. 

i didn’t know he mentioned he was thinking of leaving the group due to so much absurd hate thrown at him, and that makes me even angrier. 

angry at the world, at the kpop community if you will, and just angry at how we have come to normalize this kind of behavior towards artists with fame and influence. there’s so much cognitive dissonance going on in the kpop fandom: on one hand we vow to protect these “idols” and artists we love and adore from any misconceptions or unfounded hate towards their character, but on the other we criticize fans who put them on high pedestals, and give these artists a hard time with explaining their sides of the story. what is it, really? where does the line cross? 

in regards to her, i was so shocked that happened. i can’t even put it into words. do what you want as you have been doing it in your streams, but be a little smarter than that jfc. 

i think as stan twt becomes even more rampant everywhere, it’s just so difficult to maintain some peace n balance in the community, and there will always be those who believe they’re better than everyone else bec of this n that, therefore their accusations or opinions on certain artists make sense and should be believed. 

anyway, this has gone on for too long but i rly appreciate you sharing your feelings :( i absolutely agree in that i hope he has a stable support system amidst all of this bec this is too fucking much to handle by oneself. if he’s not careful, it’s truly gonna get to him and no amount of hashtags or defensive tweets rallying for him can make its way to his head. if i’m not mistaken, jae is one of the most recent artists in the realm of kpop that has made himself extremely accessible to modern/western fans compared to other idols in this generation, and as sad (and unjust, don’t get me wrong) as it is, these are just the challenges he faces because of that. 

#sorry it's so long but i wanted to be exhaustive w my response #pls take care of yourself too :( #anon #from:you

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

BTS after a breakup

Part 2 of 3

Hyung Line

Part 2 of 3, titled This is Still So Angsty I'm Sorry

Alternate Title: Salty Bois in Their Feelings

Alternate Title 2: The Mystery of Why Any Bitch Would Break Up With J-Hope Continues

Warnings: alcohol, angst

Word Count: 3,160

Namjoon (RM)

After a month, Namjoon felt a little better

He missed you like crazy and continued to send you texts every week, but the subject matter brightened a little

He limits himself to only looking at your social media once a day, but other than a couple selfies, you have never posted much so it's a moot point except he gets to see your pretty face

He will be completely silent about the situation won't say shit about you and the boys will avoid saying your name because of the look on your face when he hears it

He drinks too much wine at dinner but he's still on top of everything

Won't ever text you unless it's that one day a week, and he spills out everything

He thinks he's doing better he's proud about his progress

Until he is cleaning the bedroom and he finds a book you were reading under the bed

It's dog-eared in the place where you'll never finish it

Bc you left it here just like you left him

He has a mini breakdown over it but manages to try and get some work done

As soon as he opens his internet browser, he knows it's just gonna be a shit day

He sees his name in the headlines

"Rap Monster Kim Namjoon's Ex and Her New Man?"

He doesn't wanna know, but he can't stop himself from clicking on it

He knows the blurry picture is you because he'd know you anywhere

It isn't as if you're all over the guy or anything, but there's a close up of you holding hands and Namjoon feels like he's been punched in the throat

The thing that really gets him though

Is that he's an idol, too

A leader, even, and Namjoon can't help feeling replaced

The reason you left, the whole issue was because he didn't have time for you but you're moving on with another idol?

It made him think it was him, not the time, that you just didn't want him

Jin calls right away to check on him

"You know how the media is, Joon. It doesn't mean anything."

He's right, of course, but when Namjoon lies down to try and sleep, the image of your hand clasped with that guy's haunts him

He texts you just one sentence that week

"I hope he makes you happy."

You call him and Namjoon is so shook he almost drops his phone

"Y/n?"

"I just want you to know that it isn't what you think."

"I guess it isn't my business anymore." He says, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice

"I don't want you thinking..."

"What? That it wasn't the lifestyle you couldn't handle? That you just didn't want me?" He can't help the angry tears that spring to his eyes

"I never wanted anything as much as I wanted you, Joonie."

He doesn't miss that you're using the past tense.

"I mean it, you know. I hope he makes you happy." He does mean it. He always wants you to be happy

"He's just my friend, Joonie. I would never-"

He closes his eyes against the tears burning behind his lids. He doesn't want to hear you lie to him to protect his feelings

"Yeah, ok. He's a big guy, he can protect you from the paparazzi at least."

There was plenty of photos of that, too, of Hyunwoo with one big arm around you, shielding you from the cameras

"Joon, don't-"

"I miss you," he cuts you off

"I miss you, too."

Neither of you hang up for a long time, just longing for everything to go back to the way it was

Jin

Jin is absolutely not handling this well

He talks about you constantly, asking everyone for advice and boys get so tired of hearing your name jfc

Skips dance practice every other time to move around the house

Flips through your social media pics together several times a day and gets real emo

He's got a new phone and he makes your picture his lockscreen

Cannot stop drinking wine and reading articles with theories about you and your new boo

Gets tipsy and talks shit about Changkyun in troll accounts on YouTube he's that petty

Reads too many articles about Changkyun being a huge flirt and fuckboi and gets way too drunk because it makes him imagine how he is seducing you

Always on your social media acting like he doesn't give a fuck (he gives many fucks)

Likes your pictures of yourself out with Changkyun, comments 👍

Slides in your dms when he sees you're active even though he knows you'll ignore him

Won't say boo to the media just shrugs them off

Jin knows you're staying at your sister's

Everyday he tells himself not to go over there

Not to embarrass himself

But since he's gotten a new phone he can tell himself that's why you're not calling

He sits at the coffee shop by her house every morning, hoping to get a glimpse of you

When he does, of course you're with that idiot

Jin wants the ground to open up and swallow him

Luckily he's wearing a ball cap and face mask

He can hear your voice

"Thank you for being here for me through all this."

Jin watches Changkyun take your hand and he has a fantasy of breaking his fingers one by one

"Jin is an idiot for letting someone like you go, y/n."

Oh boy

So much for not embarrassing himself

Jin rips off his face mask and stalks over to the two of you

"I never let her go. You took her!" He growled, and you stand up and push him out the door to talk

Changkyun peeps his head out to ask if you're ok and it takes every bit of Jin's will not to lunge at him

"Oh will you fuck off?"

He does, and you're looking at him with your chin jutted out and he knows you're mad but he wants to kiss you so badly

"Jin, what the fuck are you doing?"

"Having coffee. Alone. Since my girlfriend left me for some kid. How about you?"

He can't help the bitterness of his words

"Well, I'm having coffee with a friend because my boyfriend fucked someone else on tour."

"Y/n, I did NOT fuck her, or anyone else for that matter."

You scoffed. "Save it, Jin. You all but told me when you were drunk dialing me last week."

"I was shitfaced! Hello! What about that picture you sent me that made me destroy my new phone?"

You shrug. "Maybe I was trying to have some fun."

Jin tugged at his hair as if he wanted to pull it out. "Fun. Fun, you say. I'm going crazy here and you're out having fun."

"Whatever. You're single now, do what you want. I am." You know you're being petty but you don't believe him, after all the pictures, all the articles, the way he had almost apologized for it

You turn to go and he grabs your wrist, pulling you to him, looking fiercely down into your eyes

"This is just a fight we're having, Jagi, yeah? It's just a fight just like the time you went to lunch with your high school boyfriend and i was an idiot and you spent a week with your parents?"

He sounds so uncertain, voice shaky, and you just want to stop this and let him hold you

"You're not really fucking him, are you?"

You pull out of his arms, annoyed

It's not like he actually cares

His pride is hurt, fragile male ego, while you're heartbroken

"It's not cheating. I'm single now, I can do what I want."

"Don't play with me, sweetheart," he warns, eyes flashing

"Or what, Mr. Worldwide Handsome? You'll fuck some idiot girl? Too late. I'm not worried about it. I'm not even thinking about it."

"Of course you aren't, you don't think of me at all, do you?"

He's angry again and you know you're being cruel but you're hurt and angry and you can't help it

"You're right. You think I imagine it's your hands on me instead of his? I don't. He's so good I never think of you." You spit out the words like venom and Jin reacts as if it were, flinching, hurt evident on his handsome face

You leave him there, standing shellshocked on the sidewalk

Yoongi (Suga)

Yoongi feels better after a good night's rest that he finally gets the next night after Hobi makes him take an Ambien

Hobi is legitimately the only human on Earth that knows, Yoongi is confident you'll be back so he swears him to secrecy

Absolutely nothing changes on his social media just work stuff as usual you've changed your relationship status to single and that stings but he won't change his

Over the two years you'd been together of course you'd had spats

You had a flair for the dramatic, it was one of the things he loved you for

He was the quiet one and you were the social butterfly, outgoing and sweet, making up for what he lacked

You were right, after all, he had been distant, with the comeback album coming out in a month

He'd been neglecting you and you just needed some attention and for him to spoil you a bit

He sent two dozen pink roses to your best friend's house with a note reading "You know I love you, brat, so come back home, yeah?"

When you don't call him in 24 hours though, he gets worried

To get his mind off things he goes out for a few beers with Namjoon and Hobi

Afterward he finds himself walking to your best friend's house

He's surprised when you are the one answering the door

You're in a bathrobe with your hair in a messy bun like you do when you're applying makeup to go out

"I'm not ready yet, Chanyeol-" you say without looking and when you see Yoongi your breath catches in your throat

His eyes are puffy as if he's been crying or not sleeping, bleached hair messy

You look so beautiful that Yoongi wants to grab you and kiss you but your words are making doubt claw in his stomach

"Expecting someone else?"

He pushes past you before you can think and when he sees the bouquet of roses on the counter he thumbs one of the petals

You eye him warily

"Yoongi, are you drunk?"

"A little," he admits easily, looking you up and down. "I've been feeling pretty shitty since my girl walked out on me."

"Maybe you should've treated her better, then." You snap back

The corner of his mouth twitches. He loves it when you're sassy, but he feels uncertainty and jealousy rising in his chest

"Did you find someone to treat you better already, princess?" His voice is low, eyes flashing almost dangerously

It's kind of hot, really

But you're in shock at his accusation

"Wh.. what?"

"Chanyeol, was it? You must've met him while I was on tour. That's why you walked out over something so stupid, huh? Just an excuse." He reaches out to pluck another petal from the rose, and although his voice sounds eerily calm you can see his hand shaking

All of a sudden you're livid. After ignoring you for two weeks and calling you a brat via roses, he's really calling your concerns stupid and accusing you of cheating

"Get out." You say, voice shaking

He smirks at you bitterly. "Time for loverboy to show up? Aw, I wanted to stick around to see what the guy who's fucking my girl looks like."

His crude words pierce through you but before you can respond Chanyeol walks through the door unannounced.

"Hey, y/n, you ready?" He looks from you to Yoongi, bewildered

He takes a few steps toward you and then stops

Yoongi looks him over and then sets his jaw as if thinking for a moment

Then he lunges at the taller man, punching him square in the nose

You scream and try and yank Yoongi off of your best friend's live in boyfriend

He's already stopped, breathing hard

You go to Chanyeol who is gasping on the floor, blood all over the shirt he was wearing to take you and your bestie out since you were feeling sad

Yoongi looks down at you, looking miserable instead of angry

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Get out!" You scream, angry tears streaking down your face

Yoongi nods, and he goes, but not before he grabs the vase of roses with one hand and hurls it against the wall, glass shattering everywhere, making you scream out in surprise

He stomps out the door, stepping over Chanyeol as if he weren't there at all

Hoseok (J-Hope)

Deals with it in the healthiest manner of all the boys even though he legit has no idea why you left

Lets himself be sad, doesn't drink too much, just maybe overworks himself a little

Social media isn't an issue since you've never posted anything but memes and an occasional silly selfie

He goes through all the pictures in his phone though and gets emo

Gives you space

Hobi gives you a few days before he tries to reach you again

He could sense that you needed some time

He was hoping that was all you needed and then you would come home and explain things

You'd always been wary of expressing your negative feelings, knowing that Hoseok was such a positive person

You always said you didn't want to bring him down or stress him out

He wishes you had talked to him more

Wishes you had known that whatever was happening, he'd be by your side to work things out

When he calls, some guy answers, and it's not your brother's voice so he's shocked for a moment

The guy says hello a couple of times before he responds

"Um, is this y/n's phone?"

That was a stupid question since he was the one who paid your phone bill, but he was shook

"Yes. She's lying down because she isn't feeling so well. Can I take a message?"

Hobi doesn't miss that you must have deleted his contact name and that stings

"Just tell her Hoseok called?"

"Sure, man."

He hangs up and drums his hands on his knees, full of anxious energy

He's trying real hard not to jump to any conclusions

He's trying to be grateful that you have someone looking out for you, but he's internally screaming

Thankfully you call him back within the hour, before he can lose his mind completely

Tears spring to his eyes the second he hears your voice saying his name

"Sunshine!" He exclaims.

You can't help but smile at his nickname for you, even though you felt a lot darker than sunshine lately

"Hey, Hobi."

"Sunshine, what's going on? Where are you?" His voice sounds thick like he's about to cry and you hate it

"Don't worry about me. I'm just fine. I'm being well taken care of."

He's very quiet, and that's so unusual for him that you feel like you need to explain

"Jackson answered the phone for me. You know, my buddy from college?"

"Buddy" was an interesting term for an old college boyfriend, but Hobi was so grateful to talk to you he didn't complain

He'd met him, anyway, several times, and you were sure it would be awkward since you and Jackson had broken up a literal week before you met Hoseok

But Hobi was so sweet and not even remotely the jealous type and they'd actually gone out for beer and chicken a few times without you before BTS started the world tour

They were both rappers of course so you were sure they'd have plenty to talk about (they talked about you, mostly)

You knew hearing that it was Jackson would put his mind at ease

It did not

As much as Hobi did like Jackson he could see the way he looked at you with longing in his eyes

But it didn't matter because you were finally talking to him

"Sunshine, why did you leave me?"

"Oh, it's a long story. I just needed to get away for a while."

"I could've gone with you. It looks like you've moved out though, babe, I just wish you'd talk to me. When are you coming home?"

The silence on the line makes him feel a thousand miles away from you

"I...I don't know if I am."

His voice was choked with tears when he spoke again

"But...but why not? What did I do?"

"Nothing! Nothing, baby, you're perfect. It's me. It's all me. I can't...I can't be what you want anymore."

"You're everything I want. You're my sunshine, you know that."

You sigh

"That's just it. I can't be your sunshine anymore. I just have to be me for a while."

"Do you think I've been putting too much pressure on you? I know I talked about flying you out on tour but I just missed you so much-"

"I think I just need to move on, Hoseok."

You using his first name, not baby, not Hobi, was a bit shocking

"Move on? What does that mean?"

He hears a racket in the background

"I gotta go, babe. I'll call you next week, okay?"

"Next week? Sunshine, wait-"

You had already hung up

Hobi burst into Jin's apartment without announcing himself, knowing he left the door unlocked when he was home

Jin stopped mid bite of ramen

"Hyung, I need to talk to you."

Jin sat down his chopsticks carefully. "You hungry?"

After he all but forced Hobi to eat a little ramen, Jin asked, "Is it about y/n?

"Yes," Hobi said, squirming in his chair

"She won't me what's wrong, only that she needs time and needs to move on."

Jin, bad at hiding his facial expressions, winced

Hobi's heart sank

"What is it?"

"I don't know, bubs, but the only times I've ever heard that from a girl it's been bad news."

"How bad?"

Jin winced again. "Look, Hobi, I really don't know. Y/n has been going through some stuff lately..."

"She has? You've talked to her?"

"She called me a couple of times crying while we were on tour."

"What?! Crying? You didn't tell me?" He's all but yelling

"She begged me not to! She didn't tell me much, just that she had been in a bad place and she didn't want to worry you. I thought I talked her down, but maybe something is going on we don't know about."

Hobi started to cry and Jin hugged his friend

"I just don't know why she felt like she couldn't tell me, hyung."

Jin didn't have any answers for him, could only rub his back and hope you came clean soon

#bts #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts reactions #bts after a breakup #bts hyung line #hyung line #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #im sad #this is so messy

[wanderingcas]

I had a question, sometimes I get really frustrated with Dean because I feel like he never appreciates Cas and the sacrifices Cas has made for him enough. do you ever feel like that?

well to fully disclose, i haven’t actually watched canon since… s11? 12? so i’m not a great authority on what’s been happening recently. but i know there’s been some overall grumblings because of dean’s anger toward cas right now and to be completely honest… uh… it seems like one-dimensional writing to me? dean’s been raWr angRY for like, 3 seasons now it seems and for valid reasons but from what i read/hear about there just doesn’t seem to be a lot of development past that. so i dunno what’s going on in the writer room about that but please give dean a break thanks spn writers jfc

as for dean not appreciating cas enough… okay. here’s the thing. dean’s just not as openly emotional of a character as cas is. it’s just facts. it’s ironic because cas is an angel but cas says what he wants to say, sometimes it gets him in trouble, but he says it. he says “i love you” without hesitation. he wants to directly talk about the issues rather than sweep them under the rug. when conflict happens, or a strong feeling happens, he’s ready to express it. dean’s not the same way; he’s grown up suppressing, suppressing, suppressing, whether it be a negative or positive emotion. it’s survival for him. (maybe that’s why he’s only been expressing anger recently, because otherwise the grief would swallow him whole. who knows.)

but anyway here’s the point: when i watched canon it got real easy for me to get mad at dean sometimes and scream at the tv whY arE yOU bEING an aSS to your hUSBAND but in reality, that’s just how dean can come across sometimes on the surface. the beauty of dean’s character is that at first blush, he’s a tough, aggressive, badass, leather-clad hunter who drinks aggressively and isn’t afraid to throw a few punches. but when you look beyond that, he says stuff like “we need you. i need you” and “you’re family, cas” and “i’m not leaving here without you” and then you realize that his heart is basically melting for this angel, but it goes beyond his years of training and hardening as a hunter, so he suppresses. and yeah, it’s annoyng. destiel would probably happen if a) the writers weren’t cowards and b) dean weren’t so goddamn subversive about his wants and needs and just let himself be happy for once daMN IT but that’s a whole other rant

i believe that dean appreciates castiel. i really do believe that. i think that when you watch canon, inconsistencies happen and sometimes both characters are written as ridiculous sometimes (s6 betrayal and unloyal cas, for instance, or emotionally repressed dean who toes the line of acting like an ass) but that’s just because they’re being passed between a lot of writers who are writing them. bottom line, dean loves cas. he really does appreciate him. that face when cas died? that’s not the face of a guy who just wanted cas for his powers, or thought of him as a chummy buddy. 

i haven’t seen canon in a while, so again, take this all with a grain of salt. but that’s just my take on the characters. 

#thanks for the ask anon #i've seen this sentiment going around a lot and a lot of people getting mad at dean #it's valid #but this is just a caution to think about the character and canon circumstances before we get too upset #Anonymous #also feel free to disagree with my point of view!! feelings are feelings man #we're all just feelin them

[archmage--khadgar]

Hia! I always feel happy when I see one of your posts pop up on here c: why do you like Khadgar?

*Stares into space* OH GOD THIS IS gonna probably be a long post. HERE WE GO.So uh. I always really like Karazhan and the lore around it, hardcore fell in love with Medivh and pretty much ANYTHING in game that was connected I ate it up. I got the urn, the keys, all the rings, all the rep, you name it. I tried SO HARD to get Atiesh from the old Naxx but that didn’t happen. (I AM STILL SAD ABOUT THAT.) So that was -kind of- the start. In order for the next part to make sense, need to sidestep and backtrack a wee bit for context.Not to be all sob story, but I gotta be honest, I spent most of my childhood alone (either outside or in my room), reading, playing out epic stories with my toys, exploring the outdoors, and most of my social interactions with people I was either being bullied by kids at school or my mother. And y’know, despite all the stories I read or watched on t.v it was a loooong while before there were characters that made me go….”Holy SHIT I know what that’s like!?” Like there was a difference, to me, between characters like Michelangelo and Beetlejuice that I REALLY WANTED to hang out with, and then a character that made me go….”I know exactly how that character feels. What happened to them, happened to me.”Digimon was the show that broke that mold for me when not only were there two characters who had DIVORCED PARENTS!??? Like me, there was a girl who had a REALLY BAD and unhealthy relationship with her mother. (But she was still powered by love, which was awesome.)This kinda started getting me into other stuff because the more characters I found that I could relate to, the easier it was to explain how I felt to strangers and it made friend finding a little bit easier. FAST FORWARDING A LITTLE BIT.

So I certainly have a character -type- that I relate to the most. And it’s chaotic bookwork with anxiety. Fun fact: I am always dubbed “the twilight sparkle” of friend groups IRL because I was always, ALWAYS the one who was solving friendship problems and I did that looong before the show. OOPH. THE BIG PROBLEM. Was that it was getting to the point where all the chaotic bookworms were either: Evil, female (and I love gals, but that’s not my gender identity ORZ), or like. largely hated by the fandom and were always mocked.Or some combination.SO LIKE. Hey, I get introduced to Medivh and his TOWER OF BOOKS and all that shit and it’s like “Fuck yeah sign me up bro, living alone? Shitty mom? I feel you.” But then, y’know. He was a wee bit possessed and not. Exactly the good guy SO THERE WAS THAT.And then. There was Khadgar.I hadn’t been able to find the last guardian book yet, though I had read about the lore highlights online so I was familiar and stuff.And then WoD came out. And Khadgar! Was doing stuff! Which got me excited because it was more of the Lore that I really liked, and during MoP, I was hardcore going…”THE LEGION IS COMING BAAAACK. I JUST KNOW IT. CAUSE WE DIDN’T KILL KJ. SKREE.” I got called crazy and stupid a few times BUT HEY. Jokes on you fuckers I was *right*.Anyways!That first quest chain into Tannan rolls in. And it’s just. Khadgar. Being Khadgar. “Well, then I guess we owe you one.” scene hit every…“Oh fucking god bless Khadgar for the sarcastic sass”Because I really enjoy sarcasm and it’s more obvious in voice chat or in-person but my sass rhythm and tone, especially if I’m ranting is veeery similar to Khadgar’s sass.And then the PUNS. Listen. *Listen*. I hear an opportunity for a pun and I have to take it. I have to. If I try to hold it in my face starts smiling like the Cheshire cat and I sometimes let out a high pitched “eeeeeee” until given permission. After that quest chain, I quickly noticed that no one had rolled a Khadgar blog. No one! And well, I was all about having a blog where I could be free to make jokes all the time. IIRC, my first post was…”The party has arrived~!” Or something like that. I honestly didn’t expect much to happen cause I didn’t have any friends or anything like that and all the wow blogs all pretty much had their followings already and I was uh…a WEE BIT ALONE. But I was like “well even if this blog doesn’t go off I’ll at least have an outlet where I can just be me where no one will harass me.”Cause gotta be honest, I’ve never been well-liked. There was never a place for bookworms who liked puns and had anxiety in the world I lived in. If I acted like myself I was hated, and in order to fit in, I had to be someone else, which was a ditzy stupid, lazy girl. I wasn’t allowed to be trans, (still not back in Maine), or smart, and….yeah.  But hey! On tumblr, I can RP a male character that had my same sense of humor and sass and BE MYSELF and NOT BE A GIRL and all my IRL haters wouldn’t be able to stop me.And then uh, A THING HAPPENED. I no longer have the original blog because of reasons I’ll mention later, so I CAN’T REMEMBER who first started sending me asks but I know @kiyastrasza was one of them (she passed away suddenly a few months ago and I miss her SO MUCH.) But then like, I DON’T KNOW. I know I got a few initial asks because “fuck yeah finally a khadgar blog”  and honestly, I thought my blog was rubbish because it was 80% me just being my sassy nerd self and 20% studying his word usage for more serious things and getting my hands on every scrap of Khadgar related lore.”So I fully expected to get called out on being canon divergent or a shitty Khadgar or SOMETHING. Or have people ONCE AGAIN be like….”This character archetype is annoying and stupid and we all fucking hate him and hate you for rping him.”But that didn’t happen. In fact the EXACT OPPOSITE HAPPENED.My ask box kept getting filled with puns to be approved, rhyming his name with stuff became a thing and now even BLIZZ says “Dadgar” like jfc what even.And then like. I don’t even know, a lot of it is a blur because it all happened so fast but the BIGGEST THING.Was that for the first time ever, being myself wasn’t met with bullying and hate and people telling me to shut up and go away or anything like that.People -loved- Khadgar in-game. And people -loved- finding a Khadgar blog that “when I read their posts I can hear Khadgar’s voice”.  And better yet? KHADGAR WASN’T A VILLAIN! (Don’t get me wrong, I loooove AU’s but imagine being a kid and you can only ever connect to villains and then people hate you anyways IT DOESN’T FEEL TOO GREAT).And uh. Yeah. I don’t really know where to go with this. But yeah! It was the first time where I felt like nothing was wrong with who I was. That there was nothing wrong with being book smart and having a sense of humor and looking death in the face and just eye-rolling and going “Well aiight.”I mean hell yeah there’s been an epic shit ton of drama with people being jealous and making shit up and who the hell even knows what any of that was about anymore, and there’s still plenty of bullshit in my life keeping me otherwise miserable and I’m getting really frustrated that every goal I try to accomplish gets utterly destroyed in some way and I’m currently an emotional husk and I 100% HAVE NOT been myself lately as I’m a mix of grieving and severely hurt and physically ill and I’ve been broken pretty damn hard and when I pull myself back together it’s probably going to be like. 11th Doctor just turning into cranky 12 and not being pleasant BUT. The muse is still strong, the muse is honestly probably the strongest thing about me. Not because I think that I’m actually, really Khadgar and that’s ME you’re talking to in game and Azeroth is real, etc, etc. But it’s strong because that type of muse was already something that was effortless for me and part of my personality foundation. And before the blog it was withering away and crumbling and I had no self-love to keep it going anymore and then the blog happened, and even though I still have 0 self-love, I genuinely hate myself, the love from others healed it, and my love for the character, I think, is my subconscious finding a weird loophole to get around the self-hate because I CAN’T HATE KHADGAR, and fucking hell whenever I make a pun irl and someone is a shithead about it or calls me annoying over voice chat, my brain is like. “Yeah, but if Khadgar were real. He’d laugh.” And eventually, it’s like….”OKAY FINE. IT WAS FUNNY. THAT PERSON IS JUST A SHITHEAD.” I can’t remember where I was going with that. Uhhhhhh……SOMETHING SOMETHING.I absolutely hate myself and feel as if I’m undeserving of love because I’m a horrible, broken person that makes stupid mistakes and is only good for hurting others and being a bitchB U TI hate myself a little bit less when I RP a character, like Khadgar, that lines up with one of my personality foundations, and the general response to it is people loving it and telling them I make them happy.  I’ve still had more hate directed at me in the past (and sadly the present) than I have love. But uh. It doesn’t take much love to get me all sappy and crying and happy.  (Hate is a tossup, a lot of hate I can take but certain, specific things will strike me hard and fast).SO LIKE. Uh. I know the majority of my foundation at the moment is either destroyed or heavily damaged, cause I’ve also been heckin angry a lot lately and I don’t know how to deal with that at all since it’s something new so a lot of my foundation wasn’t protected against that, and I’ve certainly died emotionally a few times more this year than my normal rate of it taking a couple years or more to emotionally die and regenerate. BUT THE PART that’s still holding fast and bouncing off all the negative self-destructive shit is because of Khadgar, and all 1,297 of you (give or take) that’ve either stuck with this blog since the beginning and through a blog deletion and change or have come recently. That send in everything from ARCANE MEAT to puns, to AU ideas to random nice things SO UH. This is turning into an awkward unexpected thank you, to all of you. dashjkIt’s more than likely that I will live the rest of my life absolutely hating myself, and it’s possible that the rest of my foundations may never heal or be repaired. Even though I can easily attach some of them to characters like Khadgar for the most part, I just….eh. I dunno. No outlet and it’s not prompted ever and…it hurts still cause they’re broken. Which, eh, whatever, healing can’t be forced or half-assed, cause you can’t expect a broken leg to heal as fast as a papercut, all you can do is wait and let things heal or you’ll make it worse, but then obviously you can’t heal EVERYTHING otherwise no one would ever be disabled, but REGARDLESS.I may always hate myself. But I’ll always love Khadgar. And YOU guys love Khadgar. And you enjoy me rping Khadgar. So then I guess MAAAAYBE.It helps. With making it worth. Sticking around for a little bit longer.  :T

#THIS GOT SO LONG I'M SO SORRY #it won't let me put it under a cut SKREEE #long post #lothirielswan

[essilt]

Fic: Mnemosyne’s gift (WIP)

Autors: @katerina150 , @essilt Theseus Scamander / Leta Lestrange, Canon Het Relationship, Het, Alternate Universe, Epistolary, Drama, Romance, Family Feels Notes: BC THEY ARE OUR BBS AND JFC WE JUST CAN’T! Notes2: We’re sorry for mistakes, english isn’t our native language. Sum: Fantastic Letters and what are they hiding.

ao3 link

Chapter 4: The Corvus IV Lestrange's cunning plan

It was oddly, but they met again at the ball. Mr. Scamander and Miss Lestrange were invited to the annual Christmas Ball at the Ministry of Magic and, of course, separately.

Theseus led the Auror Department in 1925: the war hero, who was one of the first to go against the emergency legislation of Minister Archer Evermond. He returned from the mainland at the end of 1918, started from scratch under the guidance of Torquill Trevers and literally took off on the career ladder. The position and aura of heroism made his Irish appearance much more attractive in the eyes of the majority of free girls for betrothal, but Theseus was equally formally amiable with all of them. It was rumored that his heart was broken.

Leta Lestrange was a Hogwarts graduate, as well as Theseus. She once was friend to his younger brother Newt - and even for a couple of years she imagined she was in love, or maybe Newt imagined that for himself and for herself. Once she spent the whole summer at the Scamanders: communicated with the whole family and enthusiastically watched the hippogriffs. Theseus had often heard about her before: Leta Lestrange was at the tip of the tongue of a non-talkative Newt. Although the circumstances of the very first meeting could hardly have passed for auspicious, when Newt was expelled from Hogwarts, and his older brother had to push thresholds in the pose of the petitioner. Theseus never thought that he would communicate with this girl seriously. He was almost ten years older, she was from a different social circle. He went to war early, she continued her studies, learning how to do magical sciences as Muggle ones, and this was what later allowed her to work in the ministry, and not her father’s money, as many thought. Of course, they happened to cross at Trevers' department, but hardly all of these meetings could have passed for the renewal of acquaintance.

Theseus went to the reception without much inspiration: on the Christmas eve, Mrs. Scamander (Ma, as her sons called her among themselves) depressed by the blatant celibacy of both, in turn brought down her bad mood for a hopeless future, a lonely old age and other mischief from the day they were born. Newt crawled into himself, as if in a sink, and silently suffered, Theseus languidly dissuaded as just as languidly threatened not to come next Christmas, if these conversations did not stop. But Ma, having read the gossip in the Daily Prophet, where were only notes about beautiful lonely young women, went to storm with the determination of a soldier who had no other maneuvers left and who ignored the threat - especially since they never were performed.

"Do not roll your eyes, Theseus Scamander!" She always called children only by their full name being in anger. “You're worse than brother. You're almost forty. Almost forty, Theseus! Soon you will have no chance! You can expect only a twice-divorced woman or a widow with children from previous marriages!"

"Mom, are you sure that this is a suitable conversation before the ball?"

"This is always a suitable conversation!" She pursed her lips. "Theseus, I can not live forever, who will take care of you twenty years later? You think it'd be your brother who can't even take care of himself?"

Theseus thoughtfully considered a tuxedo.

“Mom, in the name of Merlin, I and Newt live our own lives a long time ago, and if I need a nurse one day — although I hope I won't get to such misery — I will just hire her. Marriage, as far as I know, is not for this."

“Of course not,” she snapped back, catching a subtle subtext. She paused and called on the other side: "Soon I will be too old to raise my grandchildren..."

"Grandchildren are for joy, mom. For everything else, you can hire a nanny."

"What can you know about this!" She let a little tragedy into her voice, and then got angry: "You measure everything with money, Theseus. Gathered all this of Muggles."

“Mom, money is convenient, after all, why not use it,” Theseus shrugged his shoulders, took the fresh issue of the Prophet from the table. "Well, and who do you offer me as a bride? Let's go through the list. The first in it turned eighteen last spring, and I, as you kindly and fairly reminded me, am almost forty..."

Mother snatched the newspaper out of his hands and threw into a corner.

"Don't clown around! You might think that there are no brides outside of this list!" Now the drowning man’s prayer sounded in her tone distinctly: “You had that girl in France... Why not marry her!"

"I am sure there is, but my work does not allow to communicate with them. With that girl, as you call her, there was a relationship that did not include the concept of marriage." He didn’t lift an eyebrow when his mother portrayed something between indignation and embarrassment, and ruthlessly added: “In the name of Merlin, mother, that time there wasn’t any relationship to marriage."

"So, you must work less!"

“And a woman who has worked all her life tells me this,” Theseus could not refrain from an ironic smile.

"It did not stop me from having two children!"

Theseus took a deep breath and folded his arms across his chest. Poor Newt is probably listening to all this.

"I do not argue." He tried to go on another truce, letting a little sincerity into the conversation: "I just didn’t meet a woman I don’t want to let go. And who'd endure me. No one likes redheads."

“Well, that is, we are to blame with your father, it was us who gave birth to you the redheads,” said Mrs. Scamander’s voice with a harsh note hinting at humility, and Theseus embraced her.

"Do not worry. If Newt and I are lucky, you will have daughters-in-law and grandchildren. You will grumble when they will overrun the house and climb where they don’t ask..."

"I will not live till that moment with such sons!"

Mrs. Scamander said this loudly enough for Newt to hear every word too.

***

Leta Lestrange was preparing to the ball alone. She received strict instructions from her father. Everything about her rebelled at the thought of what these instructions were about, but her tongue did not turn around to say "no". Corvus IV Lestrange had enough of a glance so that all the Leta's rebellious nature, who did not let anyone in Hogwarts descend, would wilt and freeze. The secret, shameful fault, about which it was impossible to make and sound, immobilized her and the overwilling glance smeared Leta at the feet of the father with a thin layer. You want to earn my trust, said this glance, you need my forgiveness, you should try and be a good girl, then I will approve of you - and Leta mentally replied: "Yes, Dad." Her father's authority was still indisputable for her.

She gathered her hair in a neat strict knot and stabbed her with sharp raven feathers. A black silk dress with a train and straps crossed at the back, studded with glass beads and sequins, was put on right on a naked body. Black velvet shoes on a tall thin heels, walking on will be almost an art. Her favorite silver snake with emerald eyes wrapped around her arm, from shoulder to wrist. The jewelry belonged to her mother - in fact, it was the only thing which Leta inherited by her mother.

***

She was late for the official start of the celebration and appeared in the ballroom when the performance had began and the frail ballerina, making the pas in her flying white robe, let go of the shawl into the air - but the performance did not interest Leta, she only looked ahead.

And it was Theseus Scamander ahead. Her Aim. Of course, they were familiar and although they didn’t really communicate for many years, moreover, Theseus was the first after precious animals that Newt could talk about incessantly: he found a thousand and one more reason to be angry with his older brother and to condemn him - and desperately admired him. So Leta, unwittingly, knew about Theseus Scamander much more than it was decently to know a young girl about a man almost ten years older; and since Newt Scamander was her the very best, the most intimate — and the only — friend, she involuntarily took from him an explosive mixture of condemnation and admiration for Theseus. They were even lucky enough to spend the whole pre-war summer together, when Mrs. Scamander invited her younger son's girlfriend to stay with them on holidays. Theseus was tall, scrawny, red-haired, freckled, just like Newt, wore a canvas shirt with rolled up sleeves and pants with suspenders, preferred to tinker with the rod and fishing line without the aid of spells, and he had an unusually ordinary girl. Nothing foreshadowed the hero of Arras, Messina, and Amiens.

Theseus was at the other end of the ballroom and noticed immediately the excitement among the guests and his reason. Silk dress to the floor, flowing gait, dark skin with an olive tinge. Densely dilated eyes with languishing and barely touched lipstick lips. At first it seemed to him that she was looking for someone, then - that it was him with Leta Lestrange met her eyes. Not for long: just a moment or two. He was amazed how lonely she seemed. Theseus did not follow her life intentionally, but he read the issues of the Daily Prophet, where were often published articles about her and all the enviable brides of the wizarding world, including Leta Lestrange, who, even crossing her twenty-five year line, did not lose ground in the top ten. He was even interested, because Leta occupied a considerable place in Newt's life - until the number of her supposed suitors reached ten. Then Theseus just stopped looking through the column about the secular life of the magical community.

She seemed relieved to see an old acquaintance.

They met with their eyes every now and then, until the performance was over, then the crowd separated them. Theseus was distracted by the conversation Minister of Magic Fowley, Leta was pulled aside by familiar witches from pureblood families. It took a good quarter of an hour and a lot of tricks and tiny steps in the direction of the Aim, before Theseus and Leta finally found themselves face to face.

“Oh, Miss Lestrange!” greeted Fowley. "How are you tonight? Do you enjoy the show?"

“This is a wonderful evening, Minister,” Leta gave Fowley a hand for the duty of the kiss and turned her gaze to his companion, nodding in recognition. Theseus tilted his head in response.

“Miss Lestrange, I regret that your father could not attend our Christmas party, but I am glad that you decorated it with your presence. Of course, you are familiar with our heroic Head Auror, Theseus Scamander, but it will not be superfluous to introduce you to each other again. Theseus, this is Leta Lestrange, the daughter of a respected friend of the Ministry."

Leta smiled radiantly.

"My father was very sorry that he could not attend, and asked me to convey to you wishes of well-being and remind you of the return visit, which was previously promised. Mr. Scamander, glad to meet you again," she gave a hand to Theseus.

How tall is he! She forgot. Or maybe in childhood it is natural that everything around is much higher. Leta had to throw her head back to look at Theseus' eyes, but he easily relieved her of the inconvenience, leaned in the old-fashioned way to kiss his hand, and did not raise it to his lips, as almost all men now did, trying to get rid of conventions.

"Mutually, Miss Lestrange."

She was so busy thinking about his height that she didn’t have time to think about his voice. Theseus detained her hand in his not longer than decency required, but Fowley did not allow the conversation to develop.

"Yes, yes, Miss Lestrange, I will definitely return the visit, would you like to accompany me and see our program?"

Leta had no choice but to agree. She wouldn't to refuse the Minister with whom her father was friends, although at that moment she wanted to stay and speak with a completely different person. Theseus was forced to accompany the wife of the Minister, a strict fair-haired lady who set off her bright charismatic husband.

The program of the evening included several more dances and a magician's nice performance, combined with drinks and light snacks. Leta was next to the Minister, realizing that Theseus Scamander was standing behind her. Directly behind. Touch me, she mentally repeated, touch me - until she realized that it was not an order, but a request. She really wanted to know how Theseus Scamander touches a woman, appreciate what is waiting for her, check with her skin whether all this chatter about a broken heart is true - although she already senses: not true... She even shifted her shoulder blades, almost feeling his fingers glide on her back. When white snow, so similar to the real one, began to fall from above and began to turn into flowers right in the air, she turned around and saw an asphodel flower in Theseus’s hands. Strong hint! Guessing how far the Head Auror could be suspected of indecency, Leta turned away as soon as she caught his return glance, and spoke to the Minister about something unimportant.

During the reception, her friends surrounded her again, without giving a minute of peace. Conversations, on-duty smiles, fake wishes of well-being, gossip, invitations to spend the weekend at someone’s estate or in the mountains, or at the springs. “And let's flight to Bulgaria!”, “Yes, yes, it’s very good there now, snow, they say, piled up, you can ski. I like to descend from the springboard "and so on and so forth. Her head ached so much that, after apologizing, Leta moved away, pretending to have a snack. She would not be reproached: the appetizers were excellent, to match the champagne. In the absence of a good cook, the current minister could not be blamed.

“Persephone plucked the asphodel flower, and the firmament of the earth opened up before her, from which the four dark as the night of horses escaped, and the underworld king Hades ruled it..."

She shuddered, turned around - and came under the spell of Theseus Scamander's smile. And, oh Merlin and the Holy God, this growth...

"Sorry, seems to me I've scared you."

"Don't worry, Mr. Scamander, I'm just surprised. Do you like ancient myths and legends? Or do you want to put my vigilance down?" hinting at the most innocuous name, Leta pointed at the flower.

Theseus laughed, and the asphodel disappeared.

“My job is, these myths not to become a reality, Miss Lestrange.”

“I hope that today you are not here to work, Mr. Scamander,” Leta smiled and took a sip of champagne. Her head was spinning slightly.

"No, today I intend to rest. Do you like ancient myths and legends?"

“Some ...” She paused, trying to get at least one suitable memory out of her: “I remembered, in my youth, I was amused by the legend that one hero went down to Hades and unsuccessfully sat down on the wrong chair. We often laughed at this with Newt."

Theseus grinned, apparently realizing what kind of legend it was. Newt once said that his brother in school was also teased by the misadventures of the great Greek hero, not always successfully, which, of course, was reflected in the number of points of his faculty.

Taking a sip of whiskey, Theseus leaned toward Leta a little closer.

“I argue that it was Newt who told you this Athenian gossip, it will be from him. And I'm not at all surprised, considering how my brother likes to laugh."

"How is he?" Leta did not retreat, only elegantly intercepted canapés from a passing by tray.

"He returns from his long journey soon. I think it will linger for a while in our area."

Damn well with his height sits a tuxedo, that's what, Leta thought - or champagne helped her think so. Newt wouldn't ever be dressed like this - noone would ever have a chance to rake him out of his beloved coat.

“Does Newt still love his outlandish animals?” Leta smiled, recalling the scary care of Scamander Jr. about his strange, but in her own way beautiful pets. “Does your mother still breed hippogriffs?”

“Yes, to both questions,” Theseus finally smiled sincerely, making his face completely transformed. Leta did not expect that his smile would make such a strong impression on her. "Newt is collecting material for his book, which he has been writing for many years, and mother is waiting for him to show another brood. And to persuade to find a more rewarding occupation..."

Talking about Newt awakened a cat named Feeling of Guilt from a lethargic sleep, and before she began to sharpen her claws about her soul, Leta changed the subject.

"Mr. Scamander, I spent a wonderful summer in your house, I still remember with tenderness."

In the eyes of Theseus it was clear that these memories are shared.

“You had lovely curls, Miss Lestrange.”

“I hated them,” Leta portrayed disgust, “and with pleasure got rid of them!”

"It does not matter. They were all the same cute."

"You are really pushing me to return them!"

“I never thought that my opinion is so important,” he smiled again, and Leta had to take a sip of champagne, because he had his throat tight.

The snake on her hand raised her head sometimes or took a more comfortable position, so as not to interfere with the freedom of the hostess's gestures. A catchy, massive jewelry, which, perhaps, would have gone as clothes. Not the most decent thought, but war wiped out the tinsel of propriety in the first place.

"Will I survive the bite of your beast, Miss Lestrange?”

She was surprised - hard to say, feigned or sincere - and opened her dark eyes.

"What beast, Mr. Scamander?"

“This one,” Theseus stroked one of the metal rings with which the serpent wrapped Leta’s shoulder with his index finger.

The snake did not move. Leta traced the movement with her gaze.

"Oh!" She slightly raised her hand. “She doesn't bite... unless I ask.”

“Warned is armed,” said Theseus in a philosophical tone. "I will try not to give you a reason."

Between her beautiful full lips flashed dazzling teeth.

“I don’t think I’d let her harm you.”

“You still haven't say whether her bite is deadly, Miss Lestrange.”

"Let the answer remain secret."

“Well,” Theseus spread his hands, “I hope that in the extreme case I won't have time to understand anything!”

"We'll see, Mr. Scamander." - Leta brought the glass of champagne to her lips again, and Theseus felt a sudden — and as clear as day — temptation to kiss her. Snake lifted her head from the hostess's wrist and winked.

Damn French women, Theseus swore to himself, no one else can so cleverly put all these women's tricks into which it is so nice to get caught.

"Is your beast trying to tell me something?"

Leta frowned severely, noticing snake's maneuvers, and she peacefully settled down, becoming just an jewelry again.

“She likes you, Mr. Scamander.”

He thought that this could be a family joke of the year: the snake-bride. Why not, in the end, the Muggle fairy tale about the Frog Prince wanders around.

"Does she have a name?"

Leta drank some more champagne, and Theseus remembered of his whiskey.

"I suggest you come up with it."

“I’m not as good at handling animals as my brother, Miss Lestrange.” He grinned. "I can not guess."

"It's just a name, Mr. Scamander." For a moment, she opened her eyes wide. Then the dark eyelashes sank again, Leta moved to him at a small step and stood up on her toes to quietly add: “You will not do anything terrible if you give it.”

Her smell was so close: an unobtrusive smell, reminiscent of languor, which comes during the summer heat, with a slightly bitter cocoa mixture. There was an eternity between the girl with pretty curls, who was visiting Scamanders' house, and an exquisite young woman at the ministerial Christmas celebration.

Some excitement passed behind their backs; the official part must have come to an end. Leta retreated to a small step. The thought that he wanted her was as clear as the thought of a kiss, but not at all sudden.

Theseus reached out to stroke the snake again.

"I'm lost. Ago? Aminta?"

"Ago," Leta thoughtfully held out “o”. - "I like it."

"And your beast?"

The snake lifted her head, shook her, and winked again, twisting around Leta's wrist.

"She flirts with me, Miss Lestrange?"

“I don’t see anything wrong, Mr. Scamander,” Letha laughed. The official tone has finally turned into a playful one. "I think many women in this ballroom would like to flirt with you."

Theseus spread his hands.

"Today they have no chance against your beast."

"It flatters her..."

Damn French women, Theseus thought again, damn French women, eternal punishment to the British for the Hundred Years War.

"And you?"

They met looks. Leta bit her lower lip - rather instinctively.

“I am a simple woman, Mr. Scamander, of flesh and blood.”

Theseus paused, looking for an answer.

"Is your beast jealous?"

“I didn't notice.”

The conversation became extremely ambiguous, the available reserve of the ability to flirt was exhausted, and in the large ballroom the invisible musicians played the fashionable Muggle Quictime Foxtrot and Charleston, and Theseus leaned old-fashioned to kiss Leta's hand again.

“Then she won't mind if I invite you to dance.”

That was a statement.

"Of course, Mr. Scamander."

"But I warn you that I am not very strong in this."

"Do not worry, I will teach you."

He tried to focus on something less provocative than, damned all the French women, she has no underwear, not even the thinnest bottom shirt, it was enough to put an arm around her waist to realize it. On how small she was: even on heels, Leta barely reached out to the top of his shoulder. On how gentle her fingers, decorated with elegant rings, are golden-brown, soft. On an unusually chiselled jaw line, especially noticeable when Leta slightly tilts her head to the side. On how softly she slips in the dance and imperceptibly guides not the most skilled partner.

On the fact that he did not want to let her go.

His smile made her heart beat faster, and Leta tried not to think about it. As for “not very strong”, Theseus Scamander, perhaps, lied: he did not stepped on her legs, he caught all her unobtrusive clues, and they had never encountered neighboring pairs.

“I've heard you were at the war, Mr. Scamander,” Leta spoke in a surprisingly calm voice, although she had almost been shaking with emotion. "What was it like?"

"I would not like to talk about it now, Miss Lestrange, I do not want to spoil the evening. Let's just say war is not an easy walk."

Someday he will tell her everything. For some reason, Leta had no doubt that this time would come. Or the champagne did not doubt - it does not matter.

“And you have scars?” Typical female curiosity pushed her to such an intimate question.

“Yes, Miss Lestrange, I have scars.”

"Will you show me them?"

Theseus did not answer, squeezed her fingers harder and put it on his shoulder, pressed with his palm. Then pulled her closer. The flashes of the wizarding photographers flickered around, and Leta thought that their pictures would be in all the columns of secular news in the morning, but she didn���t care.

By the end of the first dance, Leta understood that her father’s plan went to dust, as her own. They spoke with Theseus less and less often and over the last quarter of an hour they exchanged well if a dozen phrases. It is strange that after all the talk this evening it was so pleasant to just be silent. The third and fifth dances followed the second dance, the score lost its meaning. One of them will certainly end with the fact that they just cling to each other and will be just stay so close. Is that so easy?

"Can I take you home?" Theseus asked when the evening was almost over.

“Of course, Mr. Scamander,” she smiled, letting him put a mantle on her shoulders. Theseus himself ignored the rules and wore a coat of Muggle cut. They left together and, after passing a sufficient distance to the required point, transgressing near the pompous London house of the Lestrange family, where they always moved into the season.

Her father went away on business to the estate, leaving Leta alone to carry out his plan, which had already become her own.

“Do you want to come in, Mr. Scamander, drink some more whiskey? Father has a Muggle collection." Leta turned to Theseus, who was ready to say goodbye.

“With pleasure, Miss Lestrange.”

In the hall, Theseus helped her to take off her mantle, and left his coat and hat on a hanger. The house was quiet, dark and almost empty. The maids, probably, had already gone to bed, the house elves hid — not surprisingly, it was already past midnight, she noted. There was no dream in one eye. She lit a fire in the fireplace, a gleam played on Theseus' brown hair. He waited. Remembering the excuse that lured him here, Leta gestured to his father's study, opened a cupboard lined with pot-bellied bottles, and glanced absently at them.

"What kind of whiskey do you prefer, Mr. Scamander?"

“Miss Lestrange, I prefer not a whiskey.”

The next question literally hung in the air. Leta froze for a second and walked slowly toward Theseus. He waited, but Leta could not escape from his gaze. She raised her hands, buried her fingers in Theseus' hair, crumpled, ruffled, smeared with briolin's hands.

“I wanted to do this all evening,” she whispered, smiling at his bewilderment, “I dreamed of seeing them free.”

"And I wanted this all the evening," Theseus pulled her to him and kissed her.

Then everything happened instantly. In a split second. They kissed, as long as the air was enough, fumbled with their palms on their clothes impatiently, kissed again. Not here, she whispered, and he nodded automatically, of course, not here, though whom to peep; the thin straps of her dress, studded with glass beads, were the most important threat, because hell-take-it-easier-tear. Leta laughed silently, bared long and even teeth, whispered that the dress was worth a fortune; Theseus, close to despair, was looking for a secret "lightning", loops, buttons, and finally, gritting his teeth, he said - no more than the salary of the Head Auror. Leta laughed again and finally relented, sent his fingers to some intricate clasps, disguised by the same glass and sequins; one movement - and the dress was gone. And under it, indeed, there was only naked Leta, as smooth and soft as silk, which rolled from her as a black wave onto the carpet, and she remained standing - the continuation of this wave, dark, olive, golden, with a neat chest, a clear-cut waist and tough hips. She took her feet out of her shoes, and gracefully descended onto the carpet, as she came down from the platform, and turned out to be unexpectedly even smaller than Theseus thought. The snake flowed down from her hand, curled over the dress peacefully and covered her emerald eyes, Leta stood up on her socks for a new kiss. Her palms stained with bryoline had already spoiled the tuxedo, bow tie, vest and ruthlessly took hold of the shirt; not here, for the sake of Merlin, she repeated, there is bedroom, and Theseus hoarsely demanded: show. The dress and the tuxedo were left lying on the carpet, woven like lovers, Leta found herself in Theseus' hands, prompted the way into his ear: up, to the right, straight, the door, the next door... not the door in that sense... The handle clicked, they burst into the bedroom, dropped something on the way, Leta gasped, and they began to undress again. The shirt went to the floor, Leta took up the satin belt, then the buttons on the pants, brisk experienced fingers fluttered from one to the other...

“By all the rules, Mr. Scamander,” she purred fiercely, and Theseus sealed her mouth with a kiss, interrupting conversations and spurring on actions.

They stumbled in the dark, collapsed on the bed awkwardly, Leta gasped again; pulled Theseus to herself, let out a low, hungry moan when he thrusted into her, she wrapped her legs around his waist, eagerly moved her hips to meet, felt his back from the loins to the shoulder blades, every vertebra and every rib... Her tongue touched his cheek. The rhythm of the movements - towards, away and towards again - became more harmonious and stronger. The groans became a bit less hungry - it seemed so.

***

The snow outside the window poured more, caught the light of the lanterns outside the window, threw a small scattering of reflected light into the windows. Leta threw off the blanket when Theseus tried to cover her. She was not cold at all: burning maternal blood, even diluted by the British aristocratic, glacial, remained hot enough to warm the naked body inside. Darkness hid her, transformed her dark skin into ebony-black; Theseus did not trust his eyes - tactile memory covered many times more. And was more receptive. More precisely. All this time, there were a thin stockings on Leta; by touch they did not differ at all from her skin, it is not surprising that they went unnoticed. One garter dissolved, stocking moved to the middle of the leg. Theseus pulled him down, lay down at the foot of the bed, untied the satin ribbon, and pulled off the second, held his bare foot in his palm, stroked his ankle.

Leta giggled, wiggled her fingers.

“Ticklish,” she explained in a whisper when Theseus looked at her. "Accio wand..."

“No, that doesn't work like that,” he grinned.

"It works!" She made an angry growl. "You hinder me to concentrate!"

"On what?"

Leta did not answer. Her hairstyle was hopelessly ruined, and Theseus idly pulled the rest of the feathers out of the hair. He spread the strands on the pillows, buried his face in it. At the roots, her hair was slightly damp from sweat and smelled of not expensive perfumes or rubbing, they smelled... just as Leta, as she smells, probably after a bath. Or now, in bed.

Her wand swam into the room: a little uncertain, as if it was also blind in the dark. Then it became clear that they did not even bother to close the door when they burst into the bedroom.

“Lumos,” Leta said.

The light was faint, a little golden, warm; everything that Leta touched became warm.

“You agreed to show me your scars, Mr. Scamander.”

He grunted and fell on his back, spread his arms. Leta’s wand absentmindedly levitated in the air, while Leta herself, sitting on her heels and biting her lip with zeal, examined his body.

"Where does this one come from?" She poked at the round scar under the collarbone.

"From Amiens." Theseus stroked her knee, raised his palm higher. This was the best of all in appearance and in touch: an exciting, carved transition from hip to waist, steep, like that of an amphora, a drop from wide to narrow. "This latest bullet went diagonally, pierced a lung ... I was lucky to be right through. I stayed in the hospital for about two months or so, and then I was commissioned."

"Right through? Is the same on the back?"

Theseus nodded. Letha opened her eyes wide. Her initial playfulness diminished.

"And this one?" Her fingers held across a wide long scar, which crossed the right side and stretched under the shoulder blade.

"I do not remember. One of the first operations. She was so-so prepared. We ran out of bullets, and the bayonets and sabers went into action."

“Why didn't you ask the healers to remove?”

"It's not face." Theseus stretched and yawned.

He simplified intentionally the behavior and tone of the terrible thing he was talking about.

Leta bit her lip again. The next scar was under the ribs on the left side: uneven, ugly, as if a hook were being pulled under the skin, which fish were caught. She vaguely guessed that she left such traces.

"And this one?" Her fingers flinch when touched.

“And this one I got during the Hundred-Day Offensive. I ran into a wizard... I had to fight in a more familiar way."

“Did you carry a wand with you in battle?”

"Yeah. Behind the boot, instead of a knife. I even used it once... instead of a knife."

They met looks.

"You killed him?" Leta's voice has changed.

"Yes. Straight in the eye."

Her lips parted, but Leta changed her mind to speak. Looked away.

“Now I understand why you are the Head Auror,” she said slowly.

“Because I can kill with a wand without magic?”

Leta shook her head.

"Because you do not fluctuate."

Instead of answering, he intercepted her neck, pulled her to him. The sharp face of the pagan goddess approached the face of Theseus.

“Nox,” Leta whispered. The light turned off.

Lips, on which there was no trace of lipstick, pressed to his lips, and Theseus realized that it was equally and absolutely not enough for both of them.

***

They fell asleep in the morning and woke up, barely beginning to get light, to make love again in tacit consent. Silent, like a backwater, Leta listened to his ragged breathe, his moans and tried to keep in mind how they sounded, how the muscles tensed, when he rested on his arms, lifting himself, pushing deeper into her; she tried to memorize the relief of his lean, sinewy, bony and heavy body, the location of the scars on his back, dug her nails in it, wanting to leave her marks on him, even if short-lived, and she vowed to herself that she would never have anyone, never, and then the orgasm cleaned all the efforts, all the oaths and all the hooks to which the memories clung.

It became quite light. He had to get dressed, thank her and leave. So do all random lovers, whose names and faces aren't remembered.

Why does she think about random lovers? She should not think about them. For their sake, she never wanted to throw a bathrobe, to go downstairs, to make coffee and to fry toast without any wands...

Is it also random for Theseus? Maybe that's why everything turned out so easily?

Something must have changed in her face, because Theseus smiled, touched her lips with his fingers. The movements were relaxed, as if he didn’t care about the morning and he wasn’t going anywhere.

"I thought you like my brother."

"No, I always liked you."

He laughed, and Leta laughed hastily with him: it can always be said that tears came out of laughter.

"You are a shameless little liar!"

“Okay, okay...” She dried her eyes. “Newt and I kissed once, when we were fifteen, and after that I decided that he was too good to allow him to plunge.”

Theseus raised his eyebrows.

“So I’m not good enough?”

“No, but I thought you were smart enough not to plunge.”

"Double shameless little liar!"

Letha felt that her lips were trembling, and turned away, pulled the blanket to herself. Yes, a liar, the liar, covering all life the most terrible deception. Even her birth was just a result of deception.

Theseus' fingers slid along her back, circling the vertebrae...

"Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head, but did not dare to turn to face him.

“I have to repent of something, Mr. Scamander.”

In his silence, bewilderment was most clearly felt.

“I’m not a Muggle the confessor, Miss Lestrange, and I don’t give absolution.” He also changed the tone.

"Anyway, I have to repent." She exhaled. "Everything that happened... there, at the celebration... and here, in this bed... it happened, because my father wanted it so."

She did not turn around, and Theseus was silent. It was silent for a long time. Life passed, then another, the universe ended, and the silence all lasted and lasted.

Finally it stopped with the simplest:

"I do not understand."

She needed to hurry to explain everything, because too much time had already been lost. Otherwise, others will explain.

"He wanted to have influence on the new Head Auror. And this way, this way... this is proven. And now I repent."

At last, she had the courage to look back.

Theseus looked at her without condemnation or contempt - and, as far as she could judge, he was still not going anywhere. Her heart failed.

"I was so bad?"

It was such an unexpected question that Leta’s tears dried out.

"No!"

They exchanged a tense smiles.

"Well, you seduced me. What was the future plan?"

Leta opened her eyes, unable to believe that he took her revelations so calmly, that he simply dropped its as irrelevant. Maybe Theseus did not understand what she just confessed? No, he understood. Almighty Merlin, he interests in her and nothing else? Nothing at all?

"To get into your trust."

“Congratulations,” Theseus said seriously. He sat down, gently took Letu by the shoulders, and peace enveloped her. "You got."

#theseus scamander #leta lestrange #theseus x leta

[ariesbilly]

who’s ready for a rant cuz youre getting one anyway

will i ever stop being mad about the devolution of alice coopers character in season 2? for literally the sake of a fucking flop ass relationship that caters to fans and madchen who have no taste? no

s1 alice IS the better alice. no ifs ands or buts about it. you absolutely cannot change my mind. but fandom cant handle female characters who are just straight up, unapologetically bitches (its the same fucking reason we got 2 seconds of mob boss!hermione before finding out she’s apparently just a pawn in her husbands schemes.... get the fuck out of here. the hermione at the start of s2 and the hermione at the end of s2 are two different people and guess which one i prefer.... take your time.)

ANYWAY. s1 alice was complex. she had her reasons for her behavior whether you liked them or not. SHE felt justified. and you know what? not every action or thought process made by a character needs to be “good” or “right”. but yall just couldnt fucking handle that. and yes, by the end of the season we got a sob story to let us in on why alice is the way she is. and that was great. but it didnt completely change her. even at the start of s2 she was still her snippy judgy self but oh my god once we started getting into flice territory and chic and betty and the fucking serpents well then.... wow.... goodbye alice cooper and hello pod!alice. 

she starts making choices that make absolutely no goddamn sense and you know....i can only take the “i miss my long lost son and will do anything to keep him” excuse for so long. and where i draw the line is COVERING UP A FUCKING MURDER FOR A BITCH YOU MET ALL OF 5 MINUTES AGO! but yall really sat there and thought that was acceptable my mind is... blown. 

and what i absolutely will never forgive yall for is thinking its cute for alice cooper to take her ass down to the trailer park with her titties pushed up tryna fuck her daughters boyfriends father WHAT PART OF THAT SENTENCE, TO YOU, SOUNDS GOOD? SAY IT OUT LOUD. READ IT AGAIN. EXPLAIN TO ME WHERE YALL FIND THE FUCKING LOGIC IN THAT

all we got in s2 was alice crying the whole goddamn time and going back to a life she spent YEARS trying to escape and yall call that “growth” get the fuck outta here i have a headache. she’s not just a shell of her former self. 

i get that alice was a character meant to be “likable” but im so tired of female characters only allowed to ~earn~ that title after theyre completely stripped of every characteristic that made them *them* (its the same shit that pissed me off in the maleficent movie LEAVE MY FEMALE VILLAINS ALONE)

and on the flipside, you have penelope blossom who the writers decided needs to be completely unlikable to the point they forced in some half ass contrived ass homophobia story for her FUCK. YOU. and penelope is still given her moments of vulnerability (barely) and we can see on some level she does care for cheryl but guess what? if i redemption arc for penelope means her becoming some lifeless doormat like alice (like she really had no reaction to her grandkids being taken across the country.... thats not my alice cooper), I DONT WANT IT! 

and fandom needs to do better. yall are so fucking wrapped up in characters being the heroes and having ~pure~ motives and whatever other bullshit that the minute a character comes along to say “fuck that” yall POUNCE. id rather have an entertaining villain than a boring ass hero thank you. 

and im still fucking laughing over madchen being a proponent for strong female characters who arent “just wives/girlfriends” meanwhile shes the one sitting here like “we need more flice! let alice have a walk of shame out of fps trailer” girl.... bye. nothing about this fucking storyline is female empowerment i hope to god no ones looking at s2 alice for guidance jfc 

s2 alice is a joke. they ruined a perfectly good character is what they did and for what? so yall could jerk off to thoughts of madchen and skeet? so yall could feel better about enjoying alice? god forbid a woman be angry or mean or hard. fuck off

[ais-n]

(2) So when did Boyd figure out E actually loved him? Not that E was ever hard to figure out with that. Even Viv knew. Also when did Boyd start to care about E to that extent? Just now thought of that. I'm glad he does but it seemed like quite the leap from before or was it a gradual thing as I'm suspecting? I just cant see Boyd caring for E in Interludes like he does in Fade lol Still love it though! I love Boyd

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS FOR ICOS! :D

2 - answer continued from last ask - I put this one behind a cut because I wrote a lot and it ended up having more specific spoilers.

Regarding Boyd caring, he started to give a shit surprisingly early on, but really started actually caring more in Interludes, but like, more toward the end of it. In Afterimage, there’s that whole scene where E shows up at Boyd’s house and Boyd’s like FUCK OFF ASSHOLE GET OUT at first, but E ignores him and they start talking. There’s a part there where Boyd realizes E = LMC, and since LMC was pretty arrogant but actually helpful, Boyd immediately re-evaluated what he thought of E. He had gone into the idea of E loathing him because of what E had done to Hsin, but realizing E was also LMC meant he couldn’t all be bad. And since being LMC without saying HEYOO GUESS WHO I AM? :D despite seeing Hsin all that time, made him both kind of an asshole, but also mostly a big fucking dorkball in Boyd’s mind. And so he was like -- ”jfc, if you’re THAT fucking awkward about emotions, then yeah, I can translate you by using my Hsin Translation Skills.”

Early Interludes, Boyd still wasn’t sure exactly what he thought about E but he realized pretty much right away that E really cares about Hsin. Loves him, in fact. And Boyd recognized that E was even worse than Hsin when it came to the idea of love or positive emotions... Hsin was awkward about it and wouldn’t really talk about shit, but his actions said a lot for what he was thinking. E was even more awkward, to the point that he tended to profess loudly all this shit that Boyd read right through and recognized often was the opposite of how he felt.

So pretty early on, Boyd gets E, and reads him pretty well. But he’s also kind of like *eyeroll* in most of Interludes because E’s so extra about everything. But Boyd also knew E could be relied upon to get shit done if it was sketchy or illegal and had to do with Hsin, so he kept him in mind. Also, Boyd didn’t want to make Hsin uncomfortable. He knew Hsin was kind of mad that everyone ended up loooooving E no matter what, despite Hsin being like BUT HE’S SUCH AN ASSHOLE WHY. Boyd didn’t want Hsin thinking Boyd liked E because of the mask he put on, because that mask was not Boyd’s jam at all and he would actually hate E if he was only like that. The reason Boyd liked E was because he saw so much Hsin in him, and so he thought maybe he could help E and Hsin reconnect, if they needed it. He kind of felt like they just both needed their words and actions translated to each other, because they were both such morons when it came to love. But E was way more of a moron than Hsin. 

But, knowing that it upset Hsin (because at one point in Interludes maybe? or late Afterimage? Hsin basically tells Boyd it kind of frustrates/annoys him that even Boyd was sort of defending E), Boyd tried not talking about E too much around Hsin except where it made sense. And it’s not like E and Boyd hung out much so most of the time, it wasn’t really something where it mattered that much what Boyd thought about him.

But yeah, Boyd had actually kind of liked E from that moment he first talked to him as E. It’s just that if you read that scene, he went into it HATING E because he thought he was the lowest human being on the planet for what he did to Hsin, until he learned he was LMC and then he did an immediate about-face and reassessed his feelings. I forget how much made it on page there, but that’s basically what was happening internally. 

It’s not like in that scene he immediately loved E, it’s just that he immediately went, “Wait, maybe I owe him a chance to prove himself” and so he shoved his biases aside and spent most of Interludes kind of observing his behavior and determining what he felt about it. But pretty much right away he got that E is a dork. In Interludes - Masquerade or whatever it’s called where E and Boyd train, even there Boyd’s already seeing through E’s bullshit, and being like “yeah, yeah, you’re like a 2 year old who can’t say what he really wants to say because he’s too embarrassed. i’ll just react to you based on what you’re REALLY saying, not what’s coming out of your mouth.”

So generally speaking it was mostly gradual, except for his initial reassessment in his home back in Afterimage, where he did a total 180 on his willingness to listen to E’s side of anything in that single scene, based primarily on the knowledge that E = LMC. Because LMC had been a pretty decent dude who Boyd had felt like he could trust, for some reason, so E had banked up a decent amount of goodwill in Boyd as LMC. I mean, LMC was still fucked up, but he had saved Hsin’s life, and despite fucking with them he had also helped them, so Boyd’s overall review of LMC had been relatively positive. (I can’t remember if he knew back then - or ever - about E being involved in the whole attack on the compound thing, though. That would’ve brought his feelings back toward the negative. I feel like Boyd didn’t learn E was involved in that until way later??? Been too long, I forget.)

Ok so anyway back to the original question - all that above answers that question up until Fade.

The reason why, by those scenes in Fade, Boyd seems to care more about E in general, and specifically even more than his own mother, is because of all the shit that happened between Interludes and Fade.

Boyd felt betrayed by both his mother and the Agency. He was incredibly fucked up mentally and emotionally, and losing Hsin was the most devastating blow that could have happened. Carhart didn’t seem super sympathetic to Boyd and as I mentioned in another ask, Boyd’s belief that he could inherently trust Carhart with his vulnerability was already shaken in Afterimage when Carhart made it absolutely clear (Boyd felt at the time) that Boyd meant nothing to him compared to Hsin. Kind of a feeling like - if one of you has to die, doesn’t matter which of you made the choices that lead to that ultimatum, either way Boyd should die and Hsin should be saved no matter what, because Hsin is inherently more valuable regardless of anything else. 

It’s not like Boyd hated Carhart or anything but he had felt safer going to E with things emotionally than Carhart because E was jacked up but at least he was a jacked up Boyd could translate. The only translation Boyd knew to do for Carhart was more in line with his mother, which is to say, he saw it like this: Carhart is as honest a person as his mother is. Which means if they tell you they hate you or wish you were dead, they mean it. Not like if E or Hsin tell you they hate you or wish you were dead, at which point they’re actually saying they like you a lot and it annoys them that they feel that human emotion of liking you so they lash out. 

So in early Fade, when Carhart wasn’t very open to Boyd (because he himself was shut down emotionally after everything), Boyd didn’t really have anywhere to go. He was super fucked up and he just needed someone to understand how fucked up he was and not judge him for it -  someone who loved Hsin as much as he did, so would understand. Carhart loved the holy hell out of Hsin, that wasn’t a question. But Carhart’s way of dealing with his loss was kind of being guarded, which was understandable, but not something Boyd could deal with mentally properly at that time. It felt like punishment to Boyd. He needed someone to talk to him, to let him feel like he was in a safe space, and Carhart at that time felt as cold as Viv did in terms of being an open safe space.

So that’s why Boyd goes to see E... first of all, because he’s really hoping that E somehow fixed everything and this is all a lie and etc etc. But also because he knew E wouldn’t lie to him. E wouldn’t shut him out. E would have been as fucked up as Boyd felt, because E had clearly lashed out and gotten himself in trouble. Which meant Boyd felt he could trust E more there. After all, there was nothing Boyd had done or that he felt now that he thought E would judge, since with E’s background, he seemed more likely than anyone to understand.

Hsin was the main bonding agent for Boyd with E in Fade, and that’s why going forward Boyd started trusting and caring about E even more. Not only because E reminded him of Hsin, but because E was the one person Boyd knew loved Hsin as much as he did and who got as fucked up by him being gone as Boyd was.

Also, in that infamous scene with E and Boyd, even though things got all fucked up between them later, in the beginning of that scene, they seek each other out because of overwhelming grief. And when Boyd was super vulnerable in the start of it, when Boyd expected that E with his history of drug abuse would totally let Boyd get into shit without even thinking about it, E stopped him. Even though Boyd was angry about it, E still stopped him. 

And that meant the world to Boyd, especially afterward. That one moment of stopping him without judging or chastising him, of just being like “yeah I get it, I know why you want it, but nope-a-dope, bro, my boy would kill me” showed Boyd more than anything that E cared, but also that E would help him when he was at his lowest. That E wouldn’t try to use him and throw him away or betray him like the Agency had, like he felt his mother had, like he even felt a little like Carhart had. Especially right after the whole Aleixo thing, where he spent so long being hurt by others for their gratification, that gesture of E’s cut through Boyd and showed him that E didn’t want to use and betray him like everyone else. E was fucked up, definitely, but so was Boyd. They may make stupid decisions sometimes, but at least when it came to each other and Hsin, they had good intentions. And for Boyd at that time, that meant the world.

By the time the whole thing with Carhart happened, Boyd was more concerned with E than the others because Boyd felt like Carhart and Viv were similarly built mentally, even though so much about them was SO different and opposite. But it seemed like both of them could use other people who were close to them and then just shut them out and down without warning, seemingly outwardly without any feeling about it, if it benefited them or their careers. Boyd felt that Carhart had done that to Boyd himself more than once, even though other times Carhart had also helped. And it hurt Boyd deeply every time. But Carhart also cared about the Agency, same way Viv did. Because of that, sometimes they were in shitty positions where they didn’t really have a good choice. 

But Boyd knew people like E didn’t really function that way of cutting off emotions suddenly. He knew E loved Carhart, and he knew that love was pretty much the hardest thing for E to acknowledge, and he knew that would make E really vulnerable to Carhart. And with Hsin not around, Boyd probably identified more with E than anyone. He felt like E could have really put a lot of his vulnerability into loving Carhart, believing Carhart to be the trustworthy and stand-up dude Boyd had once blindly thought him to be too, and since Boyd knew for himself how hard it was to trust others with his vulnerability and exactly how much it cut him to the core to have that vulnerability be taken advantage of or used against him, he felt like in the group of E, Carhart, and Viv, E was the one most likely to be hurt. Because E was the least calculating of them. Of the three of them, Boyd assumed E was most like him in that way, and so he was most concerned with E feeling like he was being used and betrayed. And since E was way more unpredictable than Carhart and Viv, Boyd also worried about how crazy E could go if he suddenly decided FUCK IT about everything, since he thought that the main reason E hung around the Agency was for Hsin (now no longer a factor) and Carhart. If Carhart betrayed E, what would happen?

I guess the tl;dr on it all is - Boyd originally liked Carhart because he felt like a kind, safe, genuinely good person to be around... someone who would protect him. He felt like Carhart really cared about him after a point, and that he wanted him to succeed. Basically, Carhart was his father figure. The dad he had now, after his real dad was killed when he was so young. It was something Boyd desperately needed and wanted, and it helped him start to come out of his shell more to feel like someone was there as a parental figure who he could trust not to hurt him the way his mother had so many times. That was why it hurt so much when he felt later like Carhart suddenly turned on him and made it clear Hsin would always be his only REAL son, and Boyd was just like, the annoying neighborhood kid they let into the house to eat their cereal sometimes because it was easier letting him in than not. Boyd may feel welcome in that home, but he wasn’t actually family, and never would be. In the end, he would always be meaningless on any scale including the REAL children. It was a reminder, therefore, that the person who would have loved him above all others like Carhart did for Hsin, was not Carhart but was his dead dad. In other words, Boyd would never have anyone who would care about him and help him and never hurt him, who would be his parental figure, and who would always be there without judgment if he faltered. That person did not exist for Boyd. That person only existed for Hsin.

E was someone who never pretended to care about Boyd at all, let alone more than anyone else. E never made Boyd feel like he could be a father figure, or like he would always be there to back Boyd. E never even pretended to be reliable for Boyd emotionally. E was just there, doing his thing. But because of that, Boyd came to really trust and rely on him, because he knew E wouldn’t lie to him. E wouldn’t convince him it was okay to give him that vulnerable side of himself only to throw it out with the garbage when it wasn’t convenient anymore. E never pretended that Boyd mattered to him as much as Hsin, just so he could later make it clear to Boyd’s face he meant nothing compared to Hsin. E simply acted like Boyd was just some weirdo kid fucking his son, and they got along surprisingly well and could talk about whatever because they didn’t really care if they offended each other. And so Boyd trusted him more, because E would never be able to hurt Boyd as severely as Carhart or Viv could and had. Sort of like how Boyd had come to trust going to Kassian with certain things at one point because it didn’t matter what Kassian thought of him at that time, not the way it mattered to Boyd at the time what Hsin thought.

For Boyd, he’s just very guarded with certain things because he’s been burned too many times. And so, for him, he trusts people the most when they don’t lie to him, or when their honesty isn’t telling him he’s worthless or meaningful only at the convenience of someone else. In Fade, those feelings were even stronger. In Evenfall, he still believed in people more, and it was that willingness to eventually take a chance on trusting others that got him burned at different points, and by Fade made him realize people could be good people or predictable people and that’s fine, but if they didn’t want to prioritize him in any way then they were most likely going to make a choice at some point that would devastate him because they were placing other values higher than him. Which didn’t make them inherently bad, or anything. 

It was just that by then, Boyd was tired of being collateral damage. He had been that pretty much his whole life, and he no longer wanted to bear his heart to people who couldn’t be trusted with it.

That’s why E felt like the safer person for him, and why he ultimately was more worried about E than anyone. E never really said or acted like, “You, Boyd Beaulieu, you matter to me” and so Boyd felt like it wouldn’t rip him apart if E would ever later suddenly decide to make it clear Boyd didn’t matter at all. And by that point, E was the last person Boyd had who totally got why Boyd was so completely fucked in the head and who loved Hsin as much as he did. Which meant E understood how those two factors could sometimes overlap in really jacked up ways.

I feel like I took a million words to say the same thing over and over in varying ways. Sorry about that -_- I just find it so hard to explain because some things probably feel a bit contradictory between what’s seen of characters on the surface by other characters vs the way Boyd internalizes and interprets things. Carhart and E are a perfect example of that, because Evenfall Boyd trusted Carhart SO MUCH and really liked him and cared about him, and hated E from the stories he’d been told. But Fade Boyd felt like Carhart could turn on him at any second but not do it to be a dick, just do it because he wouldn’t realize or necessarily care about the impact it might have on Boyd because Boyd didn’t really matter to him except in very specific circumstances, all of which were based on what was convenient for Carhart and not what was needed emotionally by Boyd. And E, meanwhile, was more reliable to Fade Boyd because E didn’t lie to him by pretending he cared about him in the first place, so if E suddenly turned on him it wouldn’t really hurt or even feel like a betrayal.

I guess the even more tl;dr way of saying all of that is in Evenfall, Boyd didn’t have high hopes of anyone and expected people to ignore him but he still believed in the possibilities of others, and in Fade, Boyd expected people to use and betray him and then act like he was at fault for reacting to that.

I’m probably just making everything way ++++++ more confusing by now so I’ll stop.... jfc -_-

btw it was probably clear because I tried to word it this way, but everything in this post is based on how Boyd saw things and how Boyd interpreted things, regardless of how the other characters saw their own actions or intended them to be interpreted.

#ask ais #icos #in the company of shadows #Anonymous

[8147]

reading hamlet for the first time (act 3 scene 2)

masterlist

hamlet’s play!! im excited! his plan is dumb but at least it’s a bit original

again i feel like shakespeare is continually @ -ing other... play... people... with how people are talking about plays in this play

“HAMLET: o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. O, there be players that I have seen play, ... that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.” hamlet is REALLY roasting these fellows huh

“HAMLET: What ho! Horatio!” (same thing but written in all caps with several exclamation marks)

“HORATIO: Here, sweet lord...” askjdsksk

yes i wrote that out. in cursive.

...i .... i think i just witnessed hamratio become canon

‘Danish march.’ what the fuck is a danish march

“HAMLET: Excellent, i' faith; of the chameleon's dish: I eat the air, promise-crammed: you cannot feed capons so.” my friends/me when i ask them/they ask me if they’ve/i’ve eaten recently

“QUEEN GERTRUDE: Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me. HAMLET: No, good mother.” hamlet must’ve time traveled into the future, gotten surveilance gear, and used it specifically to annoy them by thwarting their plans/obfuscating with such ease

or else, hamlet realized that ther only have one plan (have someone talk to him and spy on them!!!11!!!) and won’t fall for it

plus time travel hadn’t been invented yet

actually linear time is fake especially when time travel is invented. but then hasn’t it technically been invented already?

okay okay back in track

hamlet oh my god him talking with ophelia just

hamlet oh jeez

“HAMLET: Look you, how cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died within these two hours. OPHELIA: Nay, 'tis twice two months, my lord.” oh dear god that took a sharp turn downhill 

damn that play was... pretty on-the-nose, no?

oh my god it was only an acted SUMMARY this is gonna get better/worse isnt it ajdkjkjk

“OPHELIA: 'Tis brief, my lord. HAMLET: As woman's love.” ouch

OOOOH the now-non-rhyme of sheen/been!!! this is so exciting for me!!! omg im gonna try and read in OP (original pronunciation)

moon and done rhyme!!! I LOVE THIS

FEAR/THERE!! that doesnt occur in my dialect!!!!

“Player Queen: Such love must needs be treason in my breast: In second husband let me be accurst! None wed the second but who kill'd the first.” dAMN

“HAMLET: [Aside] Wormwood, wormwood.” apparently this means ~‘damn, harsh’ (via NFS) and honestly same

“Player Queen: A second time I kill my husband dead, When second husband kisses me in bed.” damn these actors are NOT taking shortcuts!!

speak/break rhymes!!!! how does that work!!! well actually i have a good idea but idk how to ipa vowels yet so just imagine u know what im talking abt

god i wish i had the stress beats. or had been taught/been able to figure out how the fuck iambic pentameter works

my teacher fucking walked up and asked me if i was writing in a journal and jfc fight or flight occured. i told him im writing down my favorite quotes from something im reading. 

prove/love!!!! flies/enemies & fly/enemy!!!! enemy & derivatives must have stress on the last syllable!!!!!! i love this!!!!

god hamlet’s back at it with ophelia and honestly i dont have the words

HAMLETS PLAN IS WORKING WHAT

so i guess you can say.... king claud clawed the king?

btw totally imagining this whole scene hamlet just having this. shit-eating grin, totally enjoying the show, while everyone else is confused, concerned, wary or angry

“HAMLET: Why, let the stricken deer go weep, The hart ungalled play; For some must watch, while some must sleep: So runs the world away.” wait. does weep and sleep actually rhyme here? cool!!!!

shit that rhymes in MY ENGLISH what the fuck is wrong with me

“GUILDENSTERN: The queen, your mother, in most great affliction of spirit, hath sent me to you. HAMLET: You are welcome.” okay this might not be how it is but from how im reading it hamlet said ‘you’re welcome’ like guildenstern was thanking hamlet to give him reason to bask in hamlet’s presence and if so HAMLET JUST FUCKING MURDERED GUILDENSTERN

“ROSENCRANTZ: She desires to speak with you in her closet.”  look i know there’s a language barrier reason for ‘closet’ being used in the way it is but i cant get over it. its like conducting business in a wardrobe. i keep on laughing. its the cocks all over again

“HAMLET: We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have you any further trade with us?” oh my gOD he switched to plural pronouns for himself (incomprehensible scribble)

“ROSENCRANTZ: My lord, you once did love me.” oh my god rosencrantz is hamlet’s ex

this scene gets gayer and gayer w/ each subsequent line

oh my god hamlet murdered guildenstern AGAIN with a fucking INSTRUMENT METAPHOR!!!!

“HAMLET: Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel? LORD POLONIUS: By the mass, and 'tis like a camel, indeed. HAMLET: Methinks it is like a weasel. LORD POLONIUS: It is backed like a weasel. HAMLET: Or like a whale? LORD POLONIUS: Very like a whale.” hamlet you crafty, salty-as-fuck bastard, i love you

annnnd scene! dang okay shit’s picking up, i just really hope that the One-Planned Idiots get foiled and confused once more because every time it happens its hilarious 

masterlist

#shush antares #antares reads hamlet #hamlet #shakespeare #trying to sort hamlet into a hogwarts house but i dont think i have enough info yet ill keep y'all posted

[aceofwands]

Ria hateblogs Discovery Episode 4: “CBS cares not for its fans The Butcher’s Knife Cares Not For the Lamb” (originally livelogged to @kendradaynes)

here we go. I've seen some upset comments on already - so boy am I excited to see how awful it is!

ohhhhh good, we're getting some previously from the Klingons. so. keen. to see more awful acting through prosthetics!

we begin with ... weird lightning that's pulling rock/metal together ... and pull out through clouds to a uniform being replicated

at least the effects are cool right, that's all we're here to see right

loooool a holographic mirror. obvs. I mean why use a real mirror amirite?

Tilly brought back Michael a box that's pinging at her. oh lol it's the last will and testament of Captain Georgiou.

why would you make a box that pinged until you opened it??????

oh great. it's Saru again. 

they step out onto the bridge at Red Alert?? the rest of the ship showed no sign of being at red alert. and Michael and Saru seem surprised. oh lol ofc it was just a battle sim

jfc there was a terrifying bridge crewmen with a huge bug head

UM. WHAT. PAUSED IT TO EXPRESS OUTRAGE AGAIN: Lorca is now lecturing the bridge crew, about how they have the only new propulsion drive ('Displacement Activated Spore Hub Drive' which is about the kind of dumb name I'd expect) in the fleet, and when it's up and running they can materialise anywhere in the known universe, "But we will be alone. We will not have backup. There's just us, and we get one chance." WHAT

WHAAAAAAT

WHAT KIND OF RUBBISH NONSENSE BULLSHIT IS THIS

Starfleet is NOT going to make ONE DRIVE for ONE SHIP to do ONE SNEAK ATTACK BY ITSELF. and it's not going to put this drive for this sneak attack on a SCIENCE VESSEL

it's SO fucking RIDICULOUS

you'd think the Federation has never fought any wars or been in any battles, the way this storyline is written!

LORD. had to pause again. to write a long angry sentence about how Lorca and Michael now stepped out of a turbolift into a DARK CORRIDOR which is lighting up as they walk through section by section. JUST. STOP. YOU STUPID STUPID SHOW

he's showing her his creepy weapons lab

Lorca: "I study war"

Michael: "these are some of the deadliest weapons in the galaxy" (they included katanas in a box. wtf. that’s the deadliest weapon Earth has? I don’t think so buddy) 

now he's showing her the creepy creature he picked up from the ship

"why would you keep something so dangerous on board your own ship?" GOOD QUESTION

"we need the best weapons available" ... he wants to use its properties for weapons. and wants her to do it.

THIS IS THE WORST

good it's the dumb intro that I can ignore to rant about how fucking STUPID this show is

WHAT THE FUCK

THIS. IS. NOT. STAR. TREK.

it's not even REMOTELY Star Trek

it's SO far away from everything that makes Star Trek, Star Trek

EVEN IF I accept that Starfleet does weapons research - WHICH I DO (though I don't think we need a show about it) - I do NOT believe for one second that it takes place on ONE science ship called Discovery! they'd have labs on a base somewhere. a whole TEAM of scientists and weapons experts!

oh lord. Klingons again. please no. 

just discovered Klingons can move their eyes and hands and that's about it

great I have to read dumb subtitles. the stupid white Klingon is drawing dramatic holographic art. everything on this show is about drama

OH LOL

I KNOW WHAT PEOPLE HATED NOW

the white Klingon and lady Klingon ATE CAPTAIN GEORGIOU

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

YES

okay so Klingons eat the hearts of their enemies .... but pick the flesh from their skulls? since when

oh gross they're trying to develop Klingon houses. and I could just not care less. 

and it's impossible to hateblog and read all the subtitles. it's so hard to follow or care about these Klingons 

back to Michael - Landry said Lorca thinks they'd make a good team ???? how?

I reeeeeeeeeeeeally hate Landry: "let's call it ripper, it's what it looks like, what it does"

it resembles a tardigrade from Earth. it was a stowaway on the Glenn. Michael's like 'lol, nothing in its biology suggests it'll be helpful'

Michael: "It can only be what it is, not what you want it to be."

Landry: "it's amazing how much I hate Vulcan proverbs"

It’s amazing how much I hate Landry and her casual racism against Vulcans (speciesm?)

back to Lorca, receiving a holomessage from an Admiral. got a distress call from Korvan II, which produces 40% of the Federation's dilithium. and Discovery is the only ship close enough to help ... because it can use its new drive even though it's only made small jumps so far.

right, cause I really believe the Federation would leave their major source of dilithium undefended in a war (or not have closer ships ready if their defences went down)

Admiral: "You have no doubts." Lorca: "None." cut to Stamets: "there is no way in hell we'll be ready to jump that far"

Stamets is explaining they don't have the navigation ability ... the drive is based on probability? idk it sounds so dumb and nonsense 

ugh more Klingons. some dude named Kol just appeared, painted in red. oh he's the one from the first eps. saying he's now come with humility. I hate the dumb ships, they have cathedral lighting ffs!

Kol's saying they need this ship back in the war. but they're running out food and don't have dilithium processor blah blah blah who CARES 

sooooooooo boooooooring

Spore Drive is online (that's why they have black alert btw, when they're using the spore drive)

oh good, another android or robot, that makes sense for this time period

the monster down with Michael is NOT PLEASED they're activating the spore drive

oh lord, so much dramatic music and reaction shots

this drive works by them spinning and then jumping. they just jumped into the corona of an O-type star

WHO COULD POSSIBLY HAVE FORESEEN THIS

it's not like Stamets warned you he couldn't control it or anything

Stamets broke his nose, Doctor Culber just said 'hold still or you'll wind up looking like a Tellarite' which I'd usually take as humorous but there's so much racism on the show who can tell (I’d also usually be on board for their snarky flirty banter, but in amongst this dumpster fire, who cares!)

Lorca is still being an ass to Stamets

OHHHHH

Lorca: "the Discovery is no longer a science vessel, it's a war ship"

Stamets: "that is NOT the mission I signed on for, I’m as scientist not a soldier"

Lorca: "then get off, leave the ship"

Stamets: "if I go, I'm taking everything, my spores, my drive, everything on this ship is designed around my specialty" (what)

Lorca: "everything on this ship is the property of Starfleet, Lieutenant"blah blah blah more fighting

SOOO BAD

Lorca's playing the audio transmissions from Korvan II over the shipwide audio. to make everyone feel like shit. esp Stamets

now Landry is getting weapons, trying to sedate the creature, and cut its claw off

LOL IT IS NOT SEDATED

WHO COULD HAVE GUESSED

HAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Landry is dead!!! 

Michael just emergency transported to sickbay, cause that's a thing they can do at this time

Lorca: "find a use for that creature, don't let her death be in vain". it's HER OWN FAULT SHE DIED. if she wasn't such an impatient idiot (or you hadn’t pushed her to ‘get results’). if she listened to Michael. 

OH LORD. cut to, Klingons in the wreck of the Shenzhou, wearing their DUMB EVA suits. the faceplate looks more like a Gorn/ (they're stealing the dilithium processor from it)

I just reeeeeeally don't care about any of this. it's so boring. like, the complete absence of excitement

blah blah the white Klingon and the lady Klingon are talking a lot. idk if it's supposed to be like ... flirty? ewwww I think it is. give me Martok and Sirella any day

I cannot wait for the next 20 mins to be over so I can be not watching this.

LOL we're back to Michael and Saru. and he just said she'd fit in perfectly with Captain Lorca (as an insult). this crew is perfect for each other, ALL AWFUL

Tilly has brought some spores to Michael, who's now offering them to the creature. lol it's like licking her like a dog kinda

idk Michael's just real bad at following orders. they didn't ask you to make friends with it!

what's the bet the monster lives in the spore dimension. lol, even better, it eats spores???

the other ship was using the creature to navigate. SO ETHICAL

they've beamed it into the spore forest

Stamets was supposed to be interested, almost nice for a change, but he has the same frown on his face

@kendradaynes: “this show is a car crash”

IT IS! OMG IT'S SO BORING

now we're back on the Klingon ship again

STOP. WHO CARES

HAAAAAAAA. Kol just took over the white Klingon's ship by offering them food from his own ship, and they swore loyalty. the whole Klingon story with the divided houses and whatever is SOOOOO DULL

HA. lady Klingon fell into line with Kol

back to Discovery. they've beamed the creature into the reaction cube and the tech from the Glenn is activating

...... ...... .....

I've just realised. it's Equinox.

THE PLOT IS FUCKING EQUINOX

VOYAGER DID THIS 20 YEARS AGO! except they were on the ETHICAL SIDE

how does the ship interface with the creature to navigate????

IT MAKES NO SENSE

poor creature

Lorca is like, orchestrating the viewscreen battle 

they dropped some bombs and jumped away with the drive

OMG. HYSTERICAL. LAUGHTER. just cut to some kid in her dad's arm on the surface of Korvan II: "who saved us?"

SO

FAKE

why does this REALLY IMPORTANT dilithium mine have no defence or base for its population? they’re out on the surface being killed like???

LOL the white Klingon was left on the Shenzhou. but the lady Klingon beamed over after him. of course she's ~devoted to him~because we all know that female Klingons want nothing more than to stand behind a powerful man Klingon

blah blah she's going to take him to her own house. to have the matriarchs teach him things "you never knew were possible". but he has to sacrifice, and I quote, "everything"

good

lord

you cannot make up how bad this dialogue is

Michael's back in the lab feeding the poor creature some spores. it sounds super unhappy. WHAT A SURPRISE

"hey, you feeling better?" ARE YOU KIDDING ME

this is unethical BULLSHIT

this is the exact OPPOSITE of Star Trek

oh, it's okay, Michael says she's sorry, that makes it okay

the pillows are printed with a delta with "USS DISCOVERY" on it. I can't

lord I hate Tilly. go away

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh. Tilly's giving this speech about how Michael shouldn't be afraid to open the will box. cause "I watched you tame the most incredible creature" (torture is not taming!) "and you're not afraid of anything"

STOP

soooo fucking dumb

this show is a train wreck

a dumpster fire

a trash heap

HA

I hope everyone's happy

Michelle Yeoh has appeared again

as a hologram telling Michael her will

handing down her most important possession, handed down through centuries of her family

sucks to be all those people who ridiculously though Georgiou would come back

lol it's her telescope

w o w. another 50 mins of my life I can't get back

oh good, more action in the next one

great. Mudd in the next episode. Lorca captured by Klingons. Michael worried about how much more they can torture the creature. I'm SO excited - ha. not. 

#anti Discovery #hateblogging #Star Trek Discovery #STD #episode 4

[bottle-of-smoke]

@pineapplecrushface tagged me into listing the top 10 songs on my mind right now, so I get to show you all how my music taste hasn’t moved on since the early noughties and also that EVERYTHING is about fandom atm.

1. Tainted Love – Soft Cell, and Teenage Dirtbag – Wheatus

One in and already cheating. I’m justifying this because they’re both here for the same reason. Avril Lavigne not on the list even though Sk8er Boi has been in my head almost as much. This is out of respect to my fifteen year old self who despised her due to being a snob, and also my almost-33 year old self who still cannot tolerate the line “he was a boy, she was a girl, can I make it any more obvious?” because err, yeah you can, Avril, actually. JFC.

2. Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me – The Smiths

The Smiths are the soundtrack to both my little personhood but also my adolescence, and sometimes that adolescent needs to be taken out for a walk. DRAMA. ANGST. You can’t do any better than this.

3. When It’s Cold I’d Like To Die – Moby

I have no idea why because it’s not an especially angsty fic, but I absolutely hammered this one when I was writing A Taste of Salt. Whyyy?

4. Broken Pieces – Echoberyl

You know when you want to listen to something where the bass notes physically hurt your ears? This is one of those.

5. The Bad Touch – The Bloodhound Gang

This was the other song I hammered while writing A Taste of Salt. Could not be any more different. Once upon a time I’d have been ashamed about this. Now I’m old and couldn’t care less.

6. Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered – Ella Fitzgerald

This is SUCH a Richie song if you ignore the whole last verse where she gets over it (which would never happen). Lines that stick out: “Men are not a new sensation/I’ve done pretty well I think/But this half-pint imitation/Put me on the blink” and “I’ll sing to him/Each spring to him/And worship the trousers that cling to him”. And, like, all the rest, because the lyrics to this song are perfect.

7. Zombie – The Cranberries

Angry Nineties Woman Songs are pretty much my favourite genre. There’s usually one or two knocking about and this is the current one.

8. Oliver’s Army – Elvis Costello

Because one song about the Troubles wasn’t enough, let’s have another. This is an old, old favourite and reappears a lot. Addictive to singalong to which is always good and a lyrical chef’s kiss. It’s been on my mind again since watching Generation Kill and thinking about the premise of this song, which is about the socioeconomic elements of war and how they “always get a working class boy to do the killing.”

9. Whispering Grass (Don’t Tell the Trees) – The Ink Spots

I visited a WWII museum (actually an ex-POW camp) a few weeks ago and they played this in the cinema bar. I’ve always liked it but sitting in a room purposely designed to look like the 1940s made it hit differently. It’s so sinister??

10. Heat – Far Cry 3 OST

An instrumental, which doesn’t really count as a song so I can get away with including two songs in no. 1. I listen to soundtracks as much as anything else these days. This popped up on my starred Spotify playlist a few weeks ago and I was like ??? I’m not the gamer in my household, so I must have overheard this a few years ago when my BF was playing Far Cry 3. Anyway it’s v. dramatic and proper mint like.

I don’t tag but if you read this, consider yourself tagged. Always like this sort of thing.

#i enjoyed this #maybe because i'm supposed to be reading up on westgard rules which LMAO NOPE #music #songs

[keith-against-sheith]

@educating-antis

can you send me receipts about that incident bc this is literally the first time i’m hearing about it. this post is the first time anyone has personally come to me (this side) to boost anything, you know, rather than use extreme cases to fearmonger and derail actual discussions (like..how i said..in the op..that we just get radio silence except when you shaladins come here to tell us we’re bullies). I dont check up on shaladin accounts (and most antis dont bc we tend to want to avoid you guys).

“Most shaladins actively campaign against hate that’s what their accounts exist to do” same for antis yet many of the asks/submissions/responses we get are hate! next

“How many posts exist that say along the lines of ‘antis should die?’ A very small amount” I’m just wondering how much content antis receive do you actually see bc this seems to be a very one-sided view lol. do you want like an exhaustive list of how much hate/harassment antis get cuz you’d be waiting a while lol. it’s not just posts but asks, submissions, dms, and I don’t get how you can say we DON’T receive the hate we do when you’re not an anti.

also WHO are the fandom moms you are talking about? bc the only ones ive seen are shaladins/non-antis. could you link to evidence of predatory ppl pls? so i can actually do something? instead of just talking on my post about how bad and awful we are? this is literally the most useless response ive ever gotten.

“You were attacking her, harassing her.” the minor who had an issue with bex wasn’t attacking her. people were rightfully upset that she joked about a pedophilic ship—a ship that she said herself she doesn’t support in canon because it would be an inappropriate relationship and “shiro is not a sexual predator” and is not in a relationship with any of them. that’s in her words btw. AND she encouraged a sexual homophobic comment about a minor as well. people had a right to be angry with her, and with her platform/celebrity status she should’ve known not to react the way she did. she doesn’t deserve to get called a pedophile and other antis as well as myself have made posts about that for our own community. but what she did was not okay, and even she knew that when she tried to apologize. but still because of her that minor was sent death threats and harassed off of tumblr by who? shaladins. bex was NOT abused jfc for people who love to say we don’t know pedophilia is this is a laughable response.

and now “I have never seen a pedophile shaladin” ??? your entire community is built off of “it’s just fiction” and “don’t like don’t read” content/content-creator shielding rhetoric. guess who that protects? lol here are some examples: x / x / x

plus EVERY shaladin who interacts w sexual content of the underaged characters (ESP where they look really young/younger compared to shiro, don’t ignore that), EVERY shaladin who makes the “age of consent is 15 in X country” argument, “fictional child porn is just fictional” argument, “my parents got together when one was 15 and the other was 20″ argument, “as long as they’re post-pubescent it’s fine” argument—that is ALL predatory rhetoric/behavior. you’re telling us we’re watering down the definition of pedophilia when countless shaladins like to say anyone who hits puberty is suddenly eligible so it’s fine if a teenager dates someone in their twenties??? nasty. you guys refuse to examine the danger in age gap relationships if one or more person involved is in their teens so don’t tell us we don’t care about minors or survivors.

“You actively ignore when someone brings to light a real life case of pedophilia.” where??????? link me please??? or hey remember when i mentioned above when a shaladin called a CSA defense firm (a firm that defends pedophiles for a living) to confirm that child erotica is not in fact illegal #DiscourseEnded :)

this is literally hilarious that you’re telling ME that antis put fictional arguments over real people. that second to last paragraph is just a bunch of bullshit. your whole community is a cesspool that aids pedophiles and abusers and makes it easier for them to feel safe grooming kids because fandom has been brainwashing everyone with this ridiculous mantra of There’s Nothing Wrong With This Abusive Relationship If It’s Fictional. where criticism of fictional content/fandom behavior is suddenly harassment and the Good Old Days of fandom were when everyone could do whatever the fuck they want (i.e be racist/homophobic/consume pedophilic content/ship incest/etc etc etc). do you not see how dangerous that is? nowhere am i saying the anti community is perfect but shaladins fit perfectly in this whole “fandom is not your safe space/it’s just fiction” shithole where people like lohkay and todokaras and jakeira thrive and call kids stupid for being uncomfortable with pedophilic/abusive/etc content.

“Stop pretending you’re doing what you do for the greater good because it’s been shown time and time again when that was put to the test that all you actively care about is your ships and your petty arguments regarding other people’s” literally shaladins are the ones who pull all this shit out of their asses for the sake of a fictional ship. how’d you get that backwards lol. come back after you acknowledge the predatory arguments your side uses.

and yeah im 21, I’ve had more time to unlearn the gross hive mindset of Dont Like Dont Read that fandom is currently trying to break out of. Me being against glorified pedophilia/abuse/incest/etc. isn’t the problem here and I hope you can realize that.

#long post #anti shaladin