#they’re adapting the whole thing and take from later books

[nalyra-dreaming]

Just so good 😭💕🙌🤗

And because we’re adapting the whole of The Vampire Chronicles and taking things from later books and repurposing them, the idea of telling this story and them not being a couple… well, there’s no show! Their love story, as messed up as it is, is the heart of it.

#they’re adapting the whole thing and take from later books #oh I needed this #thank you jacob #the posts always negating the further books influence can just read this please #iwtv #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #jacob anderson #amc interview with the vampire #iwtv amc #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #loustat #iwtv 2022 #interview with the vampire amc

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

You may notice I frequently comment on the assumptions people make about animal facilities based on their branding. Frequently, people assume accredited facilities are inherently better for animals than unaccredited facilities, or assume sanctuaries are inherently more moral / better at caring for their animals than zoos.

I want to show you an example of why I am always, always skeptical of these assumptions.

If you’re in the California area, you might have heard about Hank the Tank - who is actually a Henrietta, btw - the 500 pound nuisance bear from Lake Tahoe who broke into 21 homes in search of food. She was recently captured by wildlife officials and moved to a sanctuary in Colorado. The Wild Animal Sanctuary has three main facilities, two in Colorado and one in TX. To give you some context, it’s the biggest carnivore sanctuary in the country - they advertise somewhere between 300-500 animals, mostly large carnivores, between their properties. It’s where most of the Tiger King cats went. It’s PETA’s preferred placement for confiscated exotic animals. So, obviously, it’s got to be great, right? Except… take a look at what they posted about Henrietta’s arrival.

Here’s their post about Henrietta’s arrival at the Refuge, the large facility in Colorado that isn’t open to the public. Let’s take a closer look at that food trough…

What do we see here? An entire rotisserie chicken that is either blackened or highly seasoned, and a whole ham. Maybe a second chicken underneath the pile, I can’t quite tell. The sanctuary gets the majority of their bear food donated from groceries stores once it’s past the sell-by date, so we know those are older meats and they’re full of a ton of salt. Then, for fruit and veg, there’s a cantaloupe, mango, corn, avocado, grapes, and apples. Maybe a pepper or two, it’s hard to tell. That’s a lot of sugar and not a lot of fiber or roughage.

But… on top of it and to the right… are those Twizzlers?

Yes.

The sanctuary confirmed on Facebook that they fed this recently rescued obese bear what looks like almost an entire pack of Twizzlers.

I don’t know of any world in which it’s appropriate to feed candy to a bear. Maybe a piece or two as a really high value reinforcer for hard behaviors (that isn’t relevant here, it’s openly against this sanctuary’s ethos to do any husbandry or medical training). An entire pack of Twizzlers is just appalling. But it’s not uncommon for this facility! I have a book written about their operations and animal care (that I bought at their gift shop this spring) which openly discusses how the bears get fed bread, doughnuts, marshmallows, and all sorts of incredibly unhealthy food that comes in with the grocery donations.

But hey, this is apparently fine for the bears, according to the sanctuary’s founder. He was quoted in that same book as saying “Bears are the only animal I know of that can eat insane amounts of sugar and it never hurts them. It does not hurt their organs. They do not get clogged arteries. They do not have high blood pressure. In the wild they eat all these sweet berries in the fall, and they convert sugar to fat… so the more sugar they get the better… we would all love to have a system like that!”

Now while it’s true that bears have physiological adaptations that modulate their insulin production and sensitivity in ways that appear to prevent them from from developing diabetes, that does’t mean it’s healthy for them to regularly eat processed carbohydrates, sugar, and general junk food. And remember - Henrietta gained her fame because of how incredibly overweight she already is, and because she was seeking out human food, According to the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife, a healthy weight for a normal adult black bear is between 100-300 pounds. So, obviously, the best thing to do is… continue to feed her candy.

Then, later on in the book, it details how they have to bribe a camel to sit tight for a regular medical examination (since they don’t train for medical behaviors) by letting him drink a can of Mountain Dew each time.

If a zoo was known publicly to be feeding their animals Mountain Dew or a couple Twizzlers - even just once, on a rare occasion - they’d be eviscerated in the media and by public opinion. But feeding out inappropriate junk food appears to be a pretty common practice at this place, and it just goes unscrutinized because everyone assumes sanctuaries are inherently better for animals.

So, long story short, never make assumptions about the quality of a facility based on it’s branding or accreditation. (TWAS is accredited by the Global Federation of Animal Sanctuaries). If you have concerns about the ethics or practices of a facility, always try to put your preconceptions aside, go and see for yourself, and think critically about what you see and what you’re told.

#animal sanctuary #hank the tank #zoo industry politics #sanctuary politics #I have a lot of thoughts about this facility and some of the truly distressing things occurring there but am not yet ready to say much #suffice to say this is somewhere I would strongly discourage you from supporting

[whineandcheese24]

so @erch0maii said in a post that i didn’t want to hijack that the reason that both screen adaptations of tmi didn’t feel quite right is because they were these dark gritty adaptations while the books are, at heart, campy and silly and comical. and i was thinking about this and how it relates to the other series in the tsc canon. when i first read tsc i thought that the reason they felt tmi felt different from tid, tda, and tlh is because they were her first books but it really all comes down to the character’s sense of humor and genre awareness. because all the other tsc series (and i’m betting twp too) take themselves so seriously, but timi doesn’t do that. 

with genre awareness, the characters are put in this dark edgy fantasy war series but they act like their in a satire or a comedy. my favorite parts of qoaad were when jace and clary were in these dangerous situations and were acting so nonchalant about it. and it wasn’t even like a fake confidence or something, they genuinely just are Like That. like at the war council they walked in casually with normal clothes and people didn’t even notice them until lily called them out. like, they could have changed, they could have made a big entrance, but no, why bother. and later in brocelind when manuel rips out the tent and they’re playing tic tac toe. they don’t acknowledge him at all, not even to make a joke about him ruining the tents they borrowed. they just sit there playing tic tac toe. and again on the imperishable fields, jace has a knife to manuel’s back and clary is holding the stanchion but emma describes them as walking as if they’re out for a morning stroll.

and like look at the parallels between the series. the tlh crew met one and a half princes of hell and barely made it out with their sanity. the tmi gang has collectively met 3 princes of hell and in literally every situation they’re on the same level. when emma and julian went to thule it was this dark scary traumatizing thing, this actual hell that wasn’t quite hell. and when james, matthew, lucie, and cordelia went to edom it was this terrible experience that both lucie and matthew spent literally dying. but when the tmi gang went to hell, what ever. yeah it was serious and traumatic and scarring but not in the same way. izzy and simon hooked up. clary and jace had sex. and alec made fun of all four of them for it after. jace got caught by a demon and clary scolded him like he left the fridge open. they literally snuck into sebastian’s elite fortress with a plan from simon’s dnd campaign. and diyu?  even when simon was having a mental breakdown he managed to flirt with izzy it took the tlh gang 3 long-ass books to defeat belial and christopher died in the process. the tmi gang beat sammael in a f*cking side book. if you go to the shadowhunter wiki and go to azazel’s history he’s said as being a part of team good. imagine how casual you have to be to get a prince of hell to join ‘team good’

and then there’s the angels. tessa’s contact with ithuriel almost killed her. emma and julian’s whole nephilim thing also almost killed them. and yeah, clary’s first encounter with raziel was very somber and serious. but in cols simon literally blackmailed raziel into giving him a magical sword. and with faerie, every encounter that the tda gang have with faeries or in faerie is this dangerous quest that could get everybody killed. the tmi gang don’t hesitaste to insult the seelie queen to her face

the thing that sets tmi apart from the rest of tsc is the characters’ refusal to take anything, themselves and everyone around them, seriously for very long

#the mortal instruments #tmi #the infernal devices #tid #the dark artifices #tda #the last hours #tlh #the shadowhunter chronicles #tsc #clary fairchild #jace herondale #simon lovelace #isabelle lightwood #alec lightwood #magnus bane #lily chen #tessa gray #emma carstairs #julian blackthorn #james herondale #matthew fairchild #lucie herondale #cordelia carstairs #christopher lightwood

[puffpasstea]

Omg yayyy can’t wait for the blurb!!! I, too, need to be drinking more water lololol

I hope this encourages you to drink your water, Anon.

Warnings: dom!Harry smut.

----

Thirsty

I dumped all the Harry-approved fruits in a large strainer and walked over to the sink to rinse them. 

Harry had appointed himself the duty of selecting the cheeses and crackers. 

After a long week of grueling night-shoots, he’d invited me over to do a movie marathon of film adaptations of all the books I’d made him read. But of course, we had to make a cheeseboard to snack on first. 

I looked up from cutting some fruits to sneak a glance at the charming view of Harry whistling to himself to the tune of some song as he experimented with various cheese pairing on the other side of the kitchen. From where I was standing, I could see a dimple on the side of his face. He had a sweet smile that always caused my own lips to smile as well. Totally in his element. 

Returning my attention back to my fruits, I attempted to drive the knife down into the flesh of a strawberry, but, instead, I felt a weird sensation in the palm of my hand and dropped the knife on the floor, narrowly missing my toes. “Shit.”

Harry was startled out of his melodic daydream. “You alright?” He’d turned around to look at me. 

“Yeah, just a cramp, I think.” 

Harry turned back around to face his British cheddar and French Brie. 

“It’s been happening a lot lately. The other day, I was bending my leg over the bathtub while shaving, and it totally cramped. Couldn’t move it back to normal for like a minute. Not sure why….”

Without missing a beat, as if he were some kind of nurse in a doctors office, Harry asked the dreaded question. “Well have you been drinking enough water recently?” I saw him glance at me from the sideways. 

“What’s that got to do with anything?” I rounded the kitchen island to get a new, clean knife from his utensil drawer. 

“Muscle cramps are a symptom of dehydration.” He spoke matter-of-factly, and I felt the unease sink in. “So, have you been drinking enough water lately?”

I simply rolled my eyes and busied myself with chopping, mainly to avoid the inevitable conversation that was now threatening to disrupt this perfectly quiet moment. 

“Put that knife down.” Harry commanded, walking towards me. 

“What? Why?” 

“I said put that knife down. Now.”

Slowly, I lowered my hand and placed the knife down on the pristine marble counter. 

Harry was now inches away. Certain that the knife if safely in place, he brought his hand to my face, taking my chin in his fingers and forcing my eyes to meet his. 

“I asked you a question.”

A pathetic whimper, barely audible, escaped my lips. 

Totally steady, Harry repeated. “Have you been drinking enough water lately?” Though his tone remained even, the look in his eyes told me that he knew my answer already. This whole performance was simply a display of dominance, designed to make me feel small and weak. And remind me that I’d fucked up. And it was working. 

“N-no, sir.” 

I gasped as I felt his hand move from under my chin only to slap my cheek. 

I froze, momentarily, unsure if there was more to come. 

“Upstairs.” Was all that followed. 

“B-but, sir…”

“Did I ask for your excuses? That shit may work on your brain but it doesn’t work on mine.“

“They’re not excuses! I just wanna expla-“

Another slap hit me unexpectedly, knocking the words out of my mouth. 

“You don’t seem to get it, do you? I KNOW for a fact that you know you’ve failed here. Because you were the one who told me about your hydration problem. You were there when we made the rule. That is the only thing that matters. Shut your mouth, and for once in your life, do as you’re told. Upstairs. NOW!”

I scurried up the stairs feeling guilty, a little wet between my legs, and guilty for being wet between my legs. 

A few moments later, Harry joined me in his bedroom. Two water bottles in one hand, and the box of sex toys he often pulled out for elaborate scenes in the other. 

Without a word of address to me, he promptly began to undress and manhandle me, molding me into whatever position he wanted, and tying me up, chaining me to the bed, and blind-folding me. 

“Don’t think I even ask that much for you.” He finally spoke. Though his voice was barely detectable.

“No, sir. You don’t I’m so-“

“For fucks sakes shut your mouth.” 

I knew it. I knew I wasn’t supposed to speak out of turn, but I desperately wanted to apologize. I wished he’d just let me get the word out. 

“I don’t ask that much of you. And whatever I do, it’s not for me. It’s for you. To make sure you’re healthy, and safe, and your basic needs are met.”

He was right. His rules were never unreasonable, draconian, or demanding. Despite his creative ability to be crushingly dominant when he wanted to be. He always put my well-being first. I knew all that. And was always appreciative of it. Herring him spell it out for  me, though, made me feel ungrateful. Like I’d taken advantage. I hated the idea of him thinking that I took him for granted. 

“This is how you repay me?” His footsteps grew farther. I heard him rummage through the box and return to my side. 

“ Coulda hurt yourself if that knife fell just a little bit closer...or slipped in the bath-tub??? If you really think you can skip the water drinking and be alright, sweetheart, I’ll give you what you want. Don’t ever let it he said that I’m not a giving dominant.” I could hear the smug grin in his tone though I had no idea what he meant. “It’s a lot easier for me. And more fun, you know…” what on earth was he talking about?! “Let’s start with drool. Open that pretty mouth of yours for me, babe.”

I did as instructed, and felt the ball gag on my tongue as Harry tied it firmly around my mouth. 

In a matter of minutes, drool had started dripping down my face and onto my neck and chest. 

“Know your safewords?”

I nodded vigorously. 

“Show me how you tap out when you’re gagged.”

I did dutifully. 

“My good girl.”

Those three words made wetness pool in my already soaked underwear. 

“Next, cum.” He announced as he stuck vibrator between my legs, and turned it on. 

“The sweat part…that’ll just take care of it self.”  He kissed my forehead and walked away, settling on the opposite end of the bed. 

“You can cum as many times as you like, darlin. Don’t even have to ask. Just let me know when you do. It’d be fun to keep count.” He laughed to himself. 

Though the predicament and embarrassment of getting punished for such a simple reason made the first couple of orgasms feel humiliating and mind-blowing, soon enough, my cunt was sensitive and the pain set in. I writhed and bucked my hips around, attempting to use my limited mobility to move away from the vibrator, but Harry must have tied it in place because it was impossible to get it off me. I whined and cried for him, the ball gag keeping my words muffled.

“Are you sensitive, baby?” Harry asked in mock-sympathy. 

“Mhhmmm” I did my best to speak. 

“Excellent.” Harry turned up the vibrator settings causing me to shriek in piercing pain. 

“Wanna make real sure that throat is dry.”

Fuck Fuck fuck. Much to my humiliation and pleasure, the pain got good again. 

Harry watched me cum with amusement “don’t lie. Know you’re loving this.” I felt him kiss my face as I came down from yet another orgasm. 

Six orgasms in, I’d given up fighting the unpredictable vibrations that Harry manipulated to keep me on my toes. My face was flushed, tears staining my cheeks, drool drying on my chest, and a sheen of sweat all over my body. I could feel the duvet below me absorbing it all. 

I came again, breathless and quiet, unable to vocalize anymore. 

Harry turned the vibrator off, running his hands gently all over my body and rubbing sore spots. 

“Want a sip of water? Thirsty?” I heard him call over the ringing feeling in my ears, my body still trembling and panting. I did my best to nod with whatever energy I had left. 

“That’s too bad. You don’t get any.” He turned the vibrator back on. My hips jolted in shock and I screamed….

#dom!harry #harry styles smut #dom!harry styles #harry styles #harry styles blurb

[emblazons]

what are your favorite byler headcanons?

—I never get asked this question, so thanks for being the first lmao. (I did write my “S5 hopes” before, but these are different I think?) Anyway. Hmmm.

While they both love Tolkien, Mike likes the Lord of the Rings trilogy books more, but Will enjoys the Hobbit best. Mike loves the depth of the lore and complexity of how Tolkien describes things in the original trilogy because they help him when he’s coming up with campaigns, but Will enjoys the straightforward (and a little sweeter) narrative of The Hobbit more—and also has a preference for it because the version he had as a kid was more image-heavy, and he’s an artist. :)

Speaking of Tolkien—Mike absolutely has a one-ring he keeps around his neck like Frodo. (It may even be what he chooses as an engagement ring way, way down the line, but Will is so outdone he decides to just buy it to wear it around his neck instead lol).

When it comes to getting work done, Mike is a think-out-loud type—as in, will talk to himself out loud and not even realize he’s doing it when alone, or with someone he’s comfortable getting into his head around. Will doesn’t say anything about it, because he thinks it’s hilarious—but Mike eventually learns about his own tendency when Will knows about a surprise he had planned before he can even do it…because he was thinking out loud. (He gets up in arms about how Will should have told him, but the more time passes, the funnier the tendency becomes to them).

Mike was hype as hell for the release of Jurassic Park in 1993. Will was also hype, but. Not nearly as excited about it as Mike was. When the Peter Jackson’s LOTR adaptation was announced, they were both over the moon (though Will was a bit scared. He is very picky about his movies, and adaptations even more so).

The two of them would settle in San Francisco, and would definitely be the ones who run a “teach DnD / campaign night” in conjunction with a comic book store in their neighborhood, in an attempt to keep the younger generations’ love for it alive—the same way as the bookstore owner who introduced them to the book. this is maybe based on an actual comicbook store with a dnd night in the SF Castro that I found a few years ago. The world may never know. They are thrilled in 2016 when a new Netflix show (😉) and Critical Role revives people’s love for it when they’re much, much older.

The first time the topic of “going to pride” comes up in the mid-90’s (long before it was the socially accepted event it is today), Will is mildly terrified—and so is Mike, but his “brave paladin” side absolutely talks himself up enough to get Will to join him solely out of a need to prove he can. They end up having a great time, and Mike, who has never really delved into queer history, ends up on a whole tangent of learning about it for an entire month afterward. Will finds it v endearing.

Mike sucks at poker because he cannot keep a single thing off his face. He is, however, really good at playing “the house” in card games, so that’s the role he takes on (comes from years of leading campaigns. He’s a bit of a showman that way).

Will cannot stand cold even after he’s disconnected from Vecna/the UD, and misses California—which is why they move back. When “global warming” talk starts becoming more common, his favorite dad joke to make is “if I think it’s getting hot, it must be,” but no one but the party & family know why it’s funny.

Earlier into their relationship, Will becomes a bit troubled by the fact that Mike is the only person he ever dated. It causes tension in their relationship for a little while, though Will eventually realizes he doesn't want to be with anyone else, so it doesn't matter. (Much later, Mike admits that he thought Will’s concerns were unfounded, considering the only person he ever dated outside of Will happened when he was 13 & probably shouldn’t have even been his girlfriend in the first place, given the fact that she was 3 seconds out of a lab…& he doesn’t even like women anyway).

Mike knows Will is healing more from “the events of the show” when Will starts making dark-humor jokes about being possessed and/or being lost in the upside down—though it takes him a lot to get used to it, given how scared he spent years being about losing Will. Eventually he gets on board and laughs—which Will appreciates, because it helps him to see Mike get less uncomfortable and feel safer about keeping Will safe after all that happened.

There are ten I could think of off top?? LMAO someone ask @magentamee what my other headcanons are I’m sure she’s heard them all by now 😂

Thanks so much for this ask!

#this was fun! thank you! genuinely haha #like. I do in fact have headcanons as an ‘analyst’ type? sometimes I forget haha #demonerds #byler #mike wheeler core #will byers core #the me tag #asks #st headcanons

[piles-of-numbers]

I HAVE OPINIONS!

Season 2 is rushed if you view it as a one-to-one adaptation.

As a fan fiction (which we’ve been told from the start this is basically fan fiction) I am SO HYPED FOR WHAT IS TO COME.

I’ve always though Storm and Siege and Ruin and Rising could have been combined into one book. The Fire Bird reveal I could see coming from the start of book 2. So getting all that out of the way now and leading us into a fun alternate ending with new implications for the two duologies is super interesting to me.

I completely get why people are upset about some early CK scenes. But I think adding them and putting them into a new light is a smart idea. We might not get to the same points of those scenes in this show.

The crows are starting off older. Kaz already had the crow club. Taking over the dregs wasn’t going to happen with the same character implications. He didn’t start under Haskell, so we used the massive fight scene to show how ruthless Kaz is in a fight on his own.

The Kaelish Prince thing was also a great way to demonstrate to new viewers Kazs whole “act like a monster and they’ll believe you” thing. It’s too early to take down Pekka completely, so we get this scene still while putting Rollins in a new power dynamic

The bandaid scene wasn’t the bandaid scene. They hinted at it. We have a base for how much contact Kaz can handle. Inej didn’t even get to talk about how touch is difficult for her too. I think we will get that later

So I forgive them for those things, I’m glad we got to see bits of the story acted as amazing as they did

I think I only have two main complaints

David :( HE IS TRIUMVIRATE HE COULD EXIST WITH SANKTA ALINA IT COULD HAVE BEEN ALINA AND HER TRIUMVIRATE >:(

I’m so worried about Tolya and Inej. Not even for the sake of Kanej. But Tolya is like the one crumb of aroace representation we have and they did the thing where they lingered on their smile a bit and they’re both good actors I saw a thing and went oh no. It’s not a sure thing maybe they will be friends (as they should! I want to see Tolya and Inej interact!) but please please please

So those are my thoughts. I’m so excited give me Alina Villain Arc

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone spoilers #six of crows #tolya yul bataar #asexual #aromantic #aroace #kaz brekker

[jenna-of-eluria]

Why is no one talking about how Chani is completely different in Villeneuve’s adaptation? I love the change, I think it’s true to her character and true her reaction to Paul’s sudden turn to imperialist warmongering/political plotting. I can’t wait to see what she does next.

Chani as the faithful true wife who just idly sits by while Paul does his thing is one of my many gripes with the original story.

I was kinda bummed they eschewed the spice orgy scene. I wonder how people who never read the books would react knowing it was supposed to be there.

Rapid fire thoughts:

I didn’t like how much power Jessica had, really liked how Giedi Prime was depicted, this film could just be called Zendaya stares down the camera menacingly, I guess they’re saving momoa’s reincarnation for the next film, the way they depicted Stilgar’s group justifying Paul’s actions was - even if unintentional - funny af and the whole theater laughed every time I wonder if Villeneuve did that on purpose, Florence Pugh ugh what a vision, the costumes in this movie better win an award, why tf weren’t Gurney’s eyes blue? Man’s been on Dune the whole damn time, matter of fact how come half the shots of people their eyes don’t look blue? I saw this movie in IMAX shouldn’t it be extremely clear if their eyes are blue?

I’m sure I’ll have more thoughts but like. It was an experience. Things that should have taken longer to develop went by SO fast (Paul and the water of life) things that should have been shortened dragged on forever (why was Rabban in this movie so much damn).

The big takeaway was just how forcefully Paul pushed back against his destiny. Pretty sure in the books he’s resistant in the way a five year old resists taking medicine but then finally accepts - 5 mins later they are back to watching Caillou and sipping juice or whatever. THIS Paul was scratching and clawing to keep his fremen life. He did everything to keep from going south. He even cried over it which is insane in this universe.

I’m interested to see where this goes tbh. I think it’ll be much better than the original (thank fuck for that).

#dune part two #thoughts

[leftingbadly]

Chapter 1: The Will of the World

Diana Quinn was an English professor back on her dying earth before she became the English teacher to a native people called Na'vi on the moon Pandora. After a shockingly horrific incident that caused the school to shut down, a newbie marine by the name of Jake Sully presents her another opportunity to reconnect with The People.

Pairing: Tsu'tey x OFC

Rating: PG13

Themes: Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers

Other Tags: Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Betrayal, Revenge

-;

Diana considered herself a patient person. In fact, if Dr Grace Augustine was the one to write the book on the Pandoran botany she discovered, Diana Quinn was going to claim she wrote the book on patience. 

At least- that’s what she tried to convince herself at six in the morning when a new recruit for the avatar programme was causing a ruckus throughout the sector and knocking over things left and right. She tried to control her rapidly rising anger as she attempted to withhold herself from screaming at the newbie for knocking over her linguistics books and almost making her spill her coffee on them.

“Hey Dick-For-Brains!” She could not, however, control her anger, “Watch where you swing that tiny blue ass of yours!”  The former university English professor had become quite adapt at adopting a marine’s mouth. Being stationed on a moon years away from your own dying planet on a solar system that was not even your own would do that to a woman. 

A prime example of bad habits adopted in the Alpha Centauri System bristled passed her in a flurry of red waves; the one and only Dr Grace Augustine. The bad habit in question was nestled between her two fingers as she took one last drag of her cigarette before hopping into her pod to link with her avatar, no doubt to chase after the newbie causing havoc outside. 

It had been nearly five years since Diana had joined the RDA at the request of Grace and there was not a moment where something went smoothly in those (give or take) one-thousand-eight-hundred-and-twenty-five days. 

The woman rolled her eyes as she stared at the panicking scientists at the sudden exposure to the air outside and watched from behind a glass pane as they quickly attempted to close the breach in the unit. She was shocked to hear of Tom’s sudden death earlier in the month, and even more shocked to learn not weeks later that they were going to be replacing Tom’s scientific mind with a marine’s one in the form of his twin brother. 

She remembers snorting rather loudly in Grace’s face when she was informed of the switch. 

“You’ve got to be joking,” Diana laughed loudly in Grace’s face, but quickly sobered up at the look of dismay on the red headed woman’s face, “You’re serious.” 

“As a heart attack. These airheads are giving me another gun when what I need is people actually capable of using what’s in their heads! It’s like they’re pissing on this whole entire operation after creating the damn fire to begin with!” 

“Okay, Grace, again with the analogies- you are going to have to speak slower for the rest of us to catch up.” Diana laughed as she raised her hands in the air, submitting to the scornful gaze the Dr sent her way. 

“Be honest with me Diana,” Grace took a stressed drag from the cigarette between her fingers, “Do you think we’re just wasting our time here? I mean honestly I feel like there’s nothing we could ever do to make up for what happened at the school-“

Diana cut the woman off before she could continue speaking, “What happened at the school was a horrific thing, Grace. But you can’t keep blaming yourself for it. You helped as many kids as you could, alright?” She stared and waited at the woman until she gave a nod in understanding, “You did everything you could.”

“I just wish I could have done more.”

Diana’s brows furrowed as the memory was pushed to the forefront of her mind. Cold, smoke infused fingers pressed against her forehead to release the tension was what brought her back to the present. 

“We’re going out to run some errands; I’m taking Norm and the newbie with me, you up to stretch your legs?” Grace was unlinked from her avatar and drinking coffee again while simultaneously smoking another cigarette. 

“You’re going to give yourself a problem with that,” Diana said as she eyed the cigarette ruefully.

“Yeah well, better the devil you know. Speaking of which…” Diana followed Grace’s line of sight until she reached the towering figure of Colonel Quaritch, or in Diana’s terms; the ugliest piece of man you would ever lay your eyes upon. 

Colonel Miles Quaritch was one of the RDA Security Operations commanders and served as the chief of security on Pandora, he had arrived on Pandora in the early 2150s and had been in a pain in Grace’s backside ever since, and Diana a while after that. 

“They do say if you speak the devil’s name, you can summon him.” Diana whispered to Grace as he walked by her station. 

“Do you think he wakes up extra early to style his hair and pray to Satan or do you suppose it comes naturally to him?” Grace questioned as they both continued to stair obviously. 

“No on the hair thing- because what hair? As for the Satan prayers… those are definitely ingrained in his DNA, no effort needed- whoops!” The two of them quickly turned around and pretended to busy themselves with the various papers and books that lay strewn across the table as he turned around to face them. 

They snickered quietly to themselves as they kept their eyes down and backs turned to the Colonel. 

“But seriously, we’re going out to gather some things, you in? I could really use some help with the newbie.” 

Diana snorted at the obvious plead for help, but shook her head in disagreement, “No, you don’t need me there. Besides, my expertise remains in the teaching of the English language- not with machineguns and helicopters.” 

“Oh, bullshit,” Grace groaned as she pulled on her friend’s arm, “Come on you’re the best pa’li rider this side of the linking.”

“Yes and you and I both know very well we haven’t even seen so much as one pa’li since-“ 

“Yeah, yeah,” Grace waved her off as she rolled her eyes and relented, “Just so you know, if anything happens out here it’s on you.” The red headed woman taunted as she turned her back on Diana’s rolling eyes. 

After Grace left her alone with her papers and books once again to try and analyse more of Na’vi linguistics, another recruit came up to her and directed her to the armour bay- Colonel Quaritch’s orders.

Diana groaned aloud as she made her way down to the metal hell.

“I want you to gain their trust,” Diana heard Colonel Quaritch’s voice above the loud machine murmurs as she approached them; “I need to know how to force their cooperation or hammer them hard if they won’t.”  

“Am I still with Augustine?” She heard Jake, the newbie, question. 

“On paper.” Came Quaritch’s reply, “Yeah, you walk like one of her science pukes,” Diana flinched at the lack of decorum with his word usage, and rolled her eyes as she figured he probably didn’t even catch his mistake, “-you quack like one, but you report to me. Can you do that for me son?”

Diana narrowed her eyes at Jake’s smirking face, his head bent low as he tried not to smile at what Quaritch said, and responded with an enthusiastic, “Hell yeah, sir.”

“Well alright then,” Quaritch smiled as he looked down at Jake, as though he were looking down at a younger version of himself, then moved to punch the air with the connected arms of the meta-machine, “Son, I take care of my own. You get me what I need, I’ll see to it you get your legs back when you rotate home. Your real legs.”

“That sounds real good, sir.” Jake nodded to the high standing machine that held Quaritch in and Diana jumped from behind one of the other still standing ones as she made her presence known to the Colonel. 

“Someone said you wanted to see me, Colonel Quaritch?” Diana heard herself yell at the older man in an attempt to make her voice heard over the loud whirring of machines and rustling of heavy artillery. 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Diana gritted her teeth together at the name, “Some of my men were attacked at the base near Highcrags.”

“And that’s my problem because?” Diana folded her arms together, not liking where the conversation was heading, knowing exactly who and what was situated closest to the mining dump at Highcrags.

“Well as you know the operations at the Floating Cave aren’t exactly being fully accepted by some of your little smurf friends-“

“Considering you used explosives to clear the entire place to rubble and ruin I wouldn’t exactly expect a gift basket, Colonel.”

Jake snorted from behind Quaritch at Diana’s statement, but tried to cover it up as a cough when the older man’s gaze turned to him.

“Look, I don’t particularly care what you or your savage sweethearts seem to think you have control over,” And he adjusted a large mechanical firearm in the hands of his AMP suit, “Look over the pictures, translate what it is your precious Tawkami clan is trying to tell us and then report back to me; because I have a message of my own.”

“And if I don’t?” Diana retorted to the retreating back of the AMP suit.

Quaritch turned his back to face her again as he yelled out, “Then seeing as though your plans for cooperation with the other clan of savaged blue lizards failed- I fail to see your use here anymore, Professor.” He sneered her title like an insult as he smirked and turned away. 

“You two sure do seem to get on well,” From beside her Jake snorted his amusement, but Diana paid him no mind as she rolled her eyes and began briskly walking away from him.

His face fell at her cold behaviour and called after her, “Hey,” But she ignored him, “Hey!” He pushed the wheels of his wheelchair faster and turned to position him in front of her, blocking her from going further, “Have we met before?”

She did nothing but stared down at him, and then turned away as he raised his eyebrows expectantly. 

“Did I do something to upset you or…?” He pushed, and she let out a frustrated groan.

“You know you aren’t the only one who lost something in that war.” She told him hotly.

“What are you talking about?” Jake stuttered at her statement.

She rolled her eyes at the marine again, “Earth’s intercontinental conflict in the twenty-second century? It kind of created a global energy crisis and left the earth in the great demand for natural resources? Ring any bells, marine?”

This time it was Jake who rolled his eyes at her sarcasm, “I know what you’re talking about, what has that got anything to do with-“

“You lost your legs in the war serving your country, others lost their lives,” That shut him up quickly, “And those who had to live with that loss, don’t you think they’d do everything they could to bring them back?” Her face fell for a brief moment, and Jake saw it- as well as the hard fury that came after, “Everything that is, except genocide.” And she pushed passed him.

This time Jake didn’t go after, but only yelled at her, “So it’s my fault for wanting to get my legs back? I’m the selfish one?” She turned around sharply at the accusation. 

“You’re trading your legs for the extinction of an entire people for some rocks and dirt!” She argued back, but lowered her voice and walked closer to him when she noticed the attention of onlookers. 

“I’m not killing anyone,” Jake seethed, quickly becoming irritated at the accusations she was throwing at him.

“No, you aren’t. But I suppose supplying Quaritch with information about the Omaticaya and the ways best to hammer them down is all in innocent fun?” This time it was her seething to him, “What exactly do you think he meant by that? Look around you Jake,” Diana waved her hands around them, to the vast amount of AMP suits, guns and artillery as well as helicarriers filled with bombs, “The entire avatar program is a sham, and everything Grace and I are trying to do means nothing to them.”

“Then why do it?” Jake challenged, “If it’s so pointless, why try to communicate with the indigenous at all?”

Diana sighed as she ran her hand down her face, “Because not trying makes me just as bad as Quaritch, and it makes me just as bad as you.” 

“You did what?” Diana shrieked in horror many hours later once Grace and Norm had returned with Trudy, their pilot- without the newbie. Of course, while the body of Jake Sully was alive and well resting in his linking pod, the tall three metre long, blue avatar body however was left to the wilds of Pandora, alone and defenceless with no real training or preparation of what the moon held. 

“We lost the kid.” Grace said as she stared off into the distance, as though she herself were coming to terms with what they did as she was explaining the experience to Diana. 

“We were just inspecting some samples when all of a sudden we hear Jake standing off with this huge hammerhead titanothere! And then all of a sudden this huge thanator shows up and scares the hammerheads away! And then all-“

“Okay, okay Norm I get it, slow down,” Diana laughed as the tall man tried to catch his breath, “So you lost Tom’s avatar. Great.” Diana mumbled a series of incoherent profanities as she sighed heavily. Diana gathered her hair in a bundle at the back of her head and attempted to tie it with the small hair tie resting on her wrist, but once she tried to make the second hoop around the elastic snapped and broke. 

She groaned in frustration, letting her hair fall back to its original position. Not only was she frustrated about the entire avatar loss situation, but the air inside the containers they had built Hell’s Gate around was humid and still.

“Maybe it’s a good thing,” Diana offered, trying to find the silver lining in the loss of an avatar body, “The last thing you need out there is another trigger happy marine anyway, never mind a three metre tall one.”

“We just keep taking blow after blow, don’t we?” Grace’s question was rhetorical as they all stood around Jake’s linking pod, waiting for him to wake up as the hours passed by. And when he finally did, he told them something none of them would have expected. 

They were all in Hell’s Kitchen when Grace recounted the story again, “The last thing we see is this Marine’s ass disappearing into the bush with this angry thanator coming after him!” She turned her hand upside down and made grabbing motions into the air, as if mimicking the thanator’s fangs and Diana found herself laughing loudly along with the rest of the group.

“Well, it’s not something you can teach.” Jake boasted smugly around a mouth full of food.

“You know, for reasons I cannot fathom, the Omaticaya have chosen you. God help us all.”

Jake found Diana hours later in the linking room where her small office was set up. She was situated, as she normally was, on top of a large desk with various papers and books about her, each of them held written pieces of a language he was unfamiliar with.

“What are these?” He asked as he approached her on his wheelchair, taking a book from beside her as he inspected one of the books with what seemed to be words and vocabulary. 

When she didn’t respond to him, he only continued to pester her, “How do you even read these?” He tilted his head from side to side, and she rolled her eyes as she grabbed the book from his hand and flipped it upside down before handing it back to him.

“Oh, right, right… it makes so much more sense to me now.” He joked, and she shook her head at his foolishness. “What does this one mean?”

She looked at the word he pointed to and laughed, “Skxawng, it means dumbass.” She raised her brow at him, “Fitting that that’s the one you’d be drawn to.”

“Sk’awn,” Jake tried.

“Skxawng,” Diana corrected him, but shook her head when he repeated it wrong again, “Sk-xaw-ng.” She said it slowly a third time and nodded her head once he finally caught on. 

“I think one of the Na’vi called me this last night,” Jake wondered aloud which caused Diana to laugh softly, “Real nasty looking bastard.” 

She nodded her head as he described the Na’vi, “Wooden neck protector? A braid dangling in front of his face that he thinks makes him look cool?”

Jake gasped as he clicked his fingers in front of Diana’s face and pointed, “Exactly! God what an asshole.”

“Tsu’tey,” Diana supplied, “He was one of the students at the school too, albeit very reluctant to join at first, loves his analogies in Na’vi but could never get passed the longer sounding words in English.”

Jake snorted at the new information about the warrior who seemed so frightening on top of his direhorse with his bow and arrow. 

“Wait, you were at the school too?” Diana raised her eyebrows at the sudden question and Jake clarified for her, “We went there today on the recon mission for Grace’s samples… were you there when…?” Jake couldn’t ask the question, but his mind flashed with the memory of the bullet holes through the wooden panelling of the small house.

When Diana said nothing, Jake continued, “That’s why you were so up my ass a day ago.” He realised.

She shook her head as she responded in a whisper, making eye contact with his eyes, “I can’t betray them again Jake.” And it was a rare moment of vulnerability he hadn’t seen otherwise in the weeks he had known her.

Diana watched tightly as Grace walked into the room and began to prepare Jake for another day in the Omaticaya village, going through the list of known Na’vi and their respective roles in the clan. 

“T’su’tey.” Jake stated as he lifted himself up into the pod.

“Tsu’tey,” Grace corrected, “He’ll be the next clan leader.”

Diana smiled fondly at the name, and sniffled her nose before she added on, “He’s not going to be fond of you,” She nodded her head to the picture of Tsu’tey on the screen.

“He’s their best warrior,” Norm added on, “So expect some passive-aggressive tendencies from him.”

Diana shrugged, “-or aggressive-aggressive.” She offered, and he nodded his head in mock thanks. 

Diana’s attention reverted back to her notes, looking at the writing from the images Quaritch had forwarded her and the limited amount of translations she had left from the Omaticaya clan after the purge of the school. She couldn’t make sense of some of the characters labelled there, but being the only clan with any form of writing system she was at a loss for what the words meant or where she could find a translation.

Her ears perked up when Grace mentioned Sylwanin.

“I got a date with Sylwanin too,” She stared hard at Jake as he winked at Norm, bragging about something he didn’t know anything about.

“She’s dead.” Grace told him, and the room enveloped in a tense air. Grace and Diana shared a long, sorrowful look before she pushed Jake into the pod and started linking him up back to his avatar at the Omaticaya Hometree. 

Diana shook her head at the now linked up male before turning her attention back to her notes at hand, “Grace,” She called over the scientist, “Do any of these letters look familiar to you?” 

Grace came over and inspected the papers in the younger Professor’s hands, “No, not really. Are these the markings from the Tawkami attack?” Diana nodded her head as she held her hair back from her face with one hand, eyes drooping slowly as she attempted to focus her eyesight. 

“Have you slept at all since Quaritch gave you these?” Diana shook her head to Grace’s question.

“He’s so hell-bent on reclaiming the Highcrags and the damn mining site near the Floating Caves he won’t just take no for an answer, and if I don’t come up with an answer he likes who knows what he’ll do to that poor clan.” She groaned in frustration. 

“Look, I know how important this is to you but tiring yourself out and passing out from exhaustion isn’t going to help anyone, you need to sleep.”

Diana only grumbled but made no move to go towards the sleeping bunks.

Grace sighed and pulled up a chair, “I don’t know what the runes say, but look at this; they drew something near the end of the first sentence.”

“What is that?” Diana heard herself ask in a low mumble, “A flower?”

“Pseudocenia Rosea, also known as the chalice plant.” Grace told Diana as she identified one of the many floras that decorated the ecosystem of Pandora.

“Why would the Tawkami draw something like this for the RDA to see?” Diana asked Grace as she looked from the screen showcasing the image to her partner. 

“Maybe it wasn’t meant for the RDA,” Grace offered as she handed the tablet back to Diana whose mind only filled with more questions than clarity. 

Chapter 2: Reconnection with Ommaticaya

#avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar fan fiction #James Cameron #movie #avatar 2 #writing #fanfiction #tsutey #neytiri #Jake sulley #tsutey x ofc #tsutey fanfiction #tsutey imagine #tsutey x reader #authors #fluff #angst #betrayal #tsutey angst #tsu'tey #james cameron avatar #tsu'tey avatar #avatar angst

[connan-l]

Colorful

Fandom: Natsume's Book of Friends Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Morinaga Souko/Natsume Reiko Summary: So many colors suited the forest girl that Souko couldn't assign a single one to her. Words: 7,123 Link: AO3 | Fanfiction.net

Notes: Believe it or not, I actually started writing this in 2018, and for some reason was never able to complete it lol. But I got so excited with the announcement of season 7 that I decided it was a good time to finish this, before we get to see those chapters get adapted.

Find out Reiko and Souko’s story still makes me cry even 5 years later, and I can’t wait to bawl about them once they’re animated!

* * *

People were always surprised when Souko told them she didn’t like the color blue.

It wasn’t like she hated it, but she just wasn’t very fond of it.

She liked green, yellow, purple, red — vivacious pigments that felt alive, cheery; hues that a child would love to use to paint one of his drawings.

Blue was just sad.

The watery tint of the deep sea, the cold tint of winter.

Souko loved assigning colors to people. She saw her father as a vibrant red, and her mother — from the little she remembered of her — as a soft purple. Her uncle was golden, her aunt orange, her grandmother green.

So although she didn’t hate it, a part of her always felt disappointed ‘blue’ was the color people associated with her the most — simply because it was what she’d been named after.

Sometimes, Souko thought it was a funny twist of fate, for her to bear the name of a color she only connected to sadness; a warped prediction of what her life would look like after she fell ill.

No one who met her after she got sick would believe it, but she actually used to be a very energetic child. Back then, she could spend the entire day running around and climbing to trees and playing all sorts of games outside with other kids, giving her father a hundred of panic attacks.

All of that crumbled away when her heart started to malfunction two years ago, and suddenly her whole body began to fall apart without her control.

It had been gradual. Slow and excruciating.

She barely noticed the first signs; the shaking in her hands, her frequent headaches, her legs incapable of walking or running for very long. One day on her way to school, she passed out — and just like that, she spent the following year practically unable to get out of bed.

Her life then withered away.

She couldn’t do any of the things she liked anymore, couldn’t go to school anymore, couldn’t see anyone but her family.

She stopped running and playing outside, and she stopped gardening, and she stopped cooking.

She didn’t really had any friends, as the shy girl she’d always been, but she’d still managed to have some decent relationships with some kids at school, at least.

Now she didn’t even had that anymore.

She withered, drowning away in a bottomless cerulean sea, and for a long, long time, nothing seemed to really matter anymore.

During those endless days, there was only two things she could do: read, which she took the habit of doing since then, and stare at her window. Her bedroom was in front of their garden, so she had a direct sight on the many colorful flowers her mother had planted there long ago, and that Souko had continued to take care of since then. But most of the times, it wasn’t the rainbow of flowers she would stare at, but the blue of the sky — getting lost in its infinity, her heart heavy with anguish and anger at her own life.

Dad had told her, once, that the reason why they named her ‘Souko’ was because she’d been born during a day with a completely clear blue sky. No clouds, no shade of gray, no sun; only blue and blue and blue, as far as the eye could see.

But as Souko kept staring at that same sky, the only thing she could think about was how profoundly empty that blue looked.

* * *

With the help of medications and reeducation, she slowly started to get better — but the doctors were unequivocal on the fact that she would never be able to move like she used to.

She had to limit her gestures, her outings, her breathing; she couldn’t run anymore, or barely so. She was getting better, but she still felt like she was imprisoned within her own body; a bird unable to get out of a cage of its own making.

But the worst wasn’t really any of this. It all weighted heavily on her, of course; but she could bear that. She didn’t really have a choice. The burden her illness had taken on her family, however, was another thing entirely.

The Morinaga household was constituted of only Souko and her father since her mother’s death when she was little, but her uncle and aunt lived nearby and were practically part of their home since as long as she could remember. Dad was very close to his brother, and so her uncle was almost like a third parent to Souko, always having been deeply involved in her life.

Thus her illness had repercussions not only on her father, but on her uncle, her aunt and the whole family. Everyone was always so tense whenever they came to see her, obvious tight smiles and stiff shoulders as they looked at her; and through the months she’d heard hundreds of arguments between her father and grandmother, between the two brothers, between most of her relatives, all about the same topics. What to do with her condition, with her treatment’s cost, with everything else.

Even Dad stopped looking at her like he used to, and instead a pained expression spread across his face every time his eyes met hers. She felt more like a poor little wounded animal he pitied than like his daughter.

That was the hardest part. The idea that not only her body was getting torn apart, but her family did as well — and that it was all her fault.

She couldn’t stand it. It made her want to run away.

Find a place far away; cut from all of her problems, where she wouldn’t have to worry about anything, and where she wouldn’t worry anyone.

A place to be all alone.

And then one night after dinner, Dad approached her with an awkward smile and addressed her in a gentle, careful voice:

"The other day the doctor made me an offer... I thought about it and it could be a good opportunity. He said that… to help with your convalescence, we could move to the countryside.”

At first, Souko wasn’t sure what to think of it.

Truthfully, she didn’t want to move.

She knew nothing at all about the small town where her dad wanted to go, and going there would mean losing all of the landmarks she’d known her whole life. It meant leaving their house where she grew up. Uncle and Auntie. Mom’s grave from a few meters away in the cemetery. Her school.

Souko might not have had any friends here, she still didn’t want to lose the relationships she had with the people of her hometown — and she didn’t want to have to make the effort to form new bonds with strangers.

The very idea made her stomach twist with anxiety. But she couldn’t turn Dad down; not when she knew he also probably didn’t want to move either, and that he only proposed that for her sake.

So against all of her better instincts, Souko agreed.

* * *

She couldn’t manage to assign any color to the forest girl.

No matter how hard she tried to, none of the choices — none of the different tints and shades and hues — seemed to fit her.

Or, rather, all of them fitted her.

The girl — her match companion, the teenager she’d met hidden within the deepest parts of the woods, like a rare, delicate diamond — was the most beautiful and fascinating person Souko had ever seen; ephemeral like a ghost, flippant like a cat and fluttering like a butterfly.

Her long silver hair seemed to change color with the sunlight; turning white or golden or purple contingent on the sky’s whims.

Souko blurted that out, once, without thinking much about it beforehand; and then regretted it right away, because of how childish it sounded.

The girl just laughed.

“Purple?” She repeated, and Souko felt herself blush. “Really?”

“B-Because, look… Your hair is so light, so it take on the dusk’s color. And when dusk turns orange, or pink, then your hair also…”

“Is that so.”

The girl looked over at the horizon, which was indeed starting to take on a mauve tint. For a moment, her companion seemed contemplative; then finally, she turned towards her again and grinned.

“Well, what do you think? Is purple my color?”

Souko felt the scarlet of her cheeks deepens even more, but she was able to muster the courage to actually reply truthfully: “I think every color is your color. You look pretty in everything.”

And that was true, too.

Souko could imagine her in red, pink, purple, orange, black and white — and that girl, her mysterious nameless acquaintance of the forest, would be just as wonderful and breathtaking as ever.

She would look beautiful and full of life even in blue.

Souko had never seen a person like that before, so radiant and mesmerizing that her eyes couldn’t stop staring at her, that her mind couldn’t help but think of her almost all the time.

For a very brief moment, the girl looked slightly taken aback; but she quickly seemed to get over it and simply smiled back at her.

The girl was always smiling.

It was a little disconcerting, sometimes — and it wasn’t that Souko didn’t like seeing her smile, but she just wished that smile looked actually genuine.

Once I’ll win, she swore to herself.

Once I’ll win, I’ll make her give me her name. I’ll make her become my friend — and then I’ll be able to make her smile for real.

* * *

“Oh, the candy’s blue.”

“Isn’t it pretty?”

“Yeah. Like the blue of Souko.”

Her voice resounded in her mind even long after the two of them parted way.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the manner she’d said her name. Softly, fleetingly, lost in the wind, like no one but the girl herself had been supposed to hear it.

The blue of Souko.

Souko had never been fond of her name. She’d never really liked the color blue.

And now, after all she’d been through, the only thing it managed to evoke to her was the emptiness of the sky as she looked through her room’s window stuck in her bed.

That was all the blue of Souko was to her.

But when the girl spoke it… When she said her name so softly, so longingly, Souko couldn’t help but love it.

The girl was a little like a fairy, Souko thought; an otherworldly being who seemed to be able to transform every bad aspects of her life into something magical.

Her name sounded beautiful when she said it. That town in the countryside seemed so fun now that she started spending time with her. Her new home, her tense family, her unfamiliar school and classmates — everything seemed bearable now that she had that girl by her side.

Even the color blue would surely feel warm and vivacious, if her secret companion started wearing some of it.

Before meeting the forest girl, Souko had simply not been able to feel at home anywhere in that town.

It wasn’t like people here weren’t welcoming — at the contrary, everyone was quite nice to her, but Souko still hadn’t been able to shake off the feeling that she simply didn’t belong. She’d always been a timid girl, but suddenly moving here while cutting all ties to her old life, added to the months she’d spent completely isolated from the world because of her illness, made her feel like she’d lost all of her social skills. She could barely handle normal conversations with the other kids, or with the townsfolk — always feeling like people were staring at her, judging her, monitoring her every moves. And even when she was alone, she couldn’t stand to be at her house either, in that unfamiliar place.

That was why coming in the middle of that forest, away from any form of life, away from her family and other people, was the only time that had finally made her feel a little comfortable — and that despite the fact this place had a strange ominous aura and sometimes gave her headaches.

And then she met the girl. The time she spent by her side, chatting idly and having silly matches and laughing together about nothing made her the happiest and most free she’d felt in months. Not since she fell ill.

The girl wasn’t always nice; she could be quite prickly and cold, and it wasn’t like Souko didn’t think that girl was... strange. Truthfully, she could be a little unsettling, or even scary sometimes. Occasionnally, she would just say weird things out of nowhere, or stared past Souko’s shoulder as if she was seeing someone behind her, or dragged her away from a place as if she was trying to run from something.

Something Souko couldn’t see.

(And, sometimes, Souko almost had the impression there really was something else with them, and that it wasn’t just the two of them in the middle of these woods.)

But even so, despite all of this, Souko still didn’t think she could, or wanted to, stop seeing the girl.

At least, she treated Souko like a normal person. She never walked on eggshells around her, even after she’d learned she was sick. And even with all her prickliness, Souko could tell that she had a kind heart, buried behind her sharp gaze and barbed comments. She wouldn’t have let Souko stay by her side otherwise.

The girl and those meetings were so odd, so detached from everything in her life — that sometimes Souko almost felt like she was hallucinating them. Like she was doing some forbidden rituals with a witch, and not just playing childish games.

There was only ever the two of them in that forest, after all — no one else here to confirm the real from the surreal.

Her rendez-vous with the forest girl was the most exciting part of her day, and she spent the whole time thinking about what new games they would play next.

Wishing that today would finally be the day she win — would be the day she finally earn her name.

Earn the right to be her friend.

“Are you going out again?”

Her father stopped her just as she was about to leave the house, and Souko startled. “Ah, yes…”

A worried look crossed his face. “Souko… I’m glad you seem to be so happy, lately — really, but… You need to be more careful. Your body is still…”

“I know,” Souko said, maybe a little more forcefully than she intended. Of course she knew her body was still frail. It was her body, after all — she understood the consequences of its weakened state better than anyone. “I’m careful, Dad, I promise. You don’t need to worry.”

But of course, that was probably a meaningless thing to say. Her father would always worry regardless of what she said.

“…Is that a friend that you see like that every day?” He asked. “I know you said you’ve been getting along better with your classmates lately…”

Souko opened her mouth, then hesitated a little.

She still hadn’t said anything to her father about the forest girl. She hadn’t said anything about her to anyone, period.

She wasn’t really sure why.

She’d told Dad about the classmates she’d started to talk to — they weren’t really friends yet, but they were nice, and Souko would like to become closer.

That, too, was thanks to the forest girl, in a way. It wasn’t like she had encouraged to talk to others or anything, but being able to have normal conversations with someone her age after having been isolated for so long had managed to cheer Souko up and make her feel braver.

The girl always looked so strong and confident, after all; solid as a rock, standing tall among the trees. Souko always felt like nothing could ever hurt or reach her.

So she’d thought that if she wanted to be worthy of befriending the forest girl, then she should try to befriend the more approachable kids at her school first.

But her classmates were different from the girl, and so Souko felt that she couldn’t simply tell Dad about her like she would with a normal classmate. Maybe she wanted to become friends with her for real before telling him — or maybe… maybe she just wanted to keep her as a secret. For now.

Something only Souko knew about.

Her father had still noticed the changes, though, and he looked simultaneously happy and worried about them. He’d already been very concerned from the start, when Souko went back to school, and then about the fact he could tell his daughter had clearly struggled to fit in at their new place. And now he clearly wasn’t happy about her escapades after school; didn’t like her going outside to play around in the forest. Souko sympathized with his feelings, knew that he was only worried for her; but it had been the best she’d felt in such a long time, and she wasn’t about to let that go.

Dad said nothing for a moment, then narrowed his eyes at Souko — and only when she noticed his suspicious look did she realizes that she was blushing.

“…Is that person you’re seeing a boy?”

“Wha— N-No! I-It’s not like that… we’re just…”

Her father laughed a little, and waved his hand. “Sorry, that’s none of my business. But you don’t need to be embarrassed about it, you know. It’s normal, at your age.”

“I-It’s really not like that…”

And it’s not a boy.

But Dad didn’t seem he would believe her no matter what she could say, so Souko felt it would be pointless to argue further. Instead, she went to her rendez-vous spot with the forest girl, and as usual they played together, Souko lost, and then they talked for a while. At some point, the girl took her hand and dragged her somewhere else. Her hand was rugged, and her skin sturdy — but it felt warm.

Souko wished she could keep holding her hand forever.

Maybe Dad isn’t entirely wrong, she thought then, looking at the girl’s pretty long hair flowing in the wind, her heart skipping a beat at the sight.

If she were a boy, maybe I would fall in love with her.

It would be so easy to fall for her. She was so beautiful and strong and fun. Souko was certain most boys at her school must be crushing on her.

(She’d inadvertently said this, one day, and to her utter surprise the girl bursts out laughing ; so hard she had to hold her stomach, and Souko had never seen her laugh so loudly and for so long before.

“No way!” She’d exclaimed after calming down. “Boys don’t like me, at all.”

“H-Huh?” Souko let out. She didn’t think she would lie about this, but she heavily doubted that was true. Maybe no one ever confessed to her, but there was just no way not a single person had at least some feelings for someone as charming as her.

The girl grinned, her green eyes boring straight into Souko’s. “I scare them. Well, to be honest, I don’t really like boys either.”

Souko didn’t know why, but at these words her cheeks flushed and she felt a small warmth of hope bloom in her chest.)

Late in the evening, when Souko came home, the first thing she did was going out in the garden, just as twilight was starting to set.

The place was still barren. Back at their old home, they used to have a garden with a lot of colorful flowers — hibiscus, daisies, orchids, tulips, marigolds… Her mother’s flowers, that Souko loved to take care of; the first thing she would see upon waking up, a rainbow of delicate, shiny petals. In their new house, a lot of things were different, but Dad had made a point to get her a bedroom where she could see the garden too, just because he knew how much Souko had liked it before.

She finally wanted to start feeling at home here, too. So maybe she could start by planting some flowers. Dad would probably like that as well — he’d loved their flowers too.

One day — after she’ll finally be able to learn the forest girl’s name and become her friend, Souko will invite her to her home and introduce her father to her.

Show her her flower garden.

But in the meantime, the forest girl would stay her little secret — something that was hers and hers only.

* * *

One of Souko’s new favorite things was when she was able to surprise the girl.

She always thought a lot about the types of games she could propose to her — even asked her uncle and dad to give her some new ideas. And every day, it felt like the girl was surprised to still find her here in the forest with a new challenge. Almost like she expected her to suddenly stop coming any time now.

How silly, Souko thought. There’s no way I’ll ever stop coming to see you, even if I wanted to.

But even so, she’d never seen the girl as shocked as when she decided to show up one day with lunch boxes in her hands.

“What’s this?” She asked in a bewildered tone, her pale green eyes pinned on Souko like a cat’s.

“Lunch.”

“I can see that,” the girl snapped back sharply, but by now Souko was used to her curtness. She could be a little mean sometimes in her way of speaking, but Souko had come to learn it wasn’t necessarily because she was annoyed. “I was asking why you brought this here— and why you brought two of these.”

Souko flushed a little, but still didn’t let go of the girl’s eyes.

“Well, I… I was just thinking, that you often seems hungry when we meet, and also, how you’re very thin, and so— I just thought that maybe you should just eat a little more. There’s meat in there, and…”

The girl narrowed her eyes at her. “Who do you think you are? My mom?”

Souko blushed even further, and looked away. That did seems a little silly and pretentious to bring that girl a lunch out of the blue, when she put it into words like that. But she couldn’t help it, and— truthfully, Souko had started to get quite worried about her.

It was often that the girl’s belly would suddenly start gurgling in the middle of one their matches, and Souko had noticed how she seemed much lighter than a girl her age should be (absolutely not because Souko was staring her at a little too much, of course; that had nothing to do with this). She’d once asked her if she was eating enough — and then the girl had snorted, rolling her eyes. But she hadn’t replied. So Souko thought, that she could…

But maybe it had been rude of her to do. Just as she was about to apologize though, the girl suddenly grabbed her lunch box and chopsticks, and Souko barely had the time to turns her head towards her that she saw her open the box and starts digging in.

“What?” The girl shot back, catching her staring. “You did say it was for me, right?”

Souko smiled, and nodded enthusiastically. “Y-Yes, of course!”

And so she quietly watched her eat away the whole meal with a smile she couldn’t quite manage to hide. She didn’t even left a single crumb — which on the one hand, Souko was happy about, but on the other it definitely had her more concerned, because that seemed to confirm the fact she truly didn’t get enough to eat at her house.

Souko could never brings herself to ask, but she has the distinct feeling that things were… not great at home, for the girl.

To start with, it was strange for a teenager to hang out in a forest so far away like this. The girl always seemed to be all alone, too; and she was spending so much time here… it didn’t seem like she had any other friends. Much like Souko. But much more worrisome was the fact that she was often hurt. Souko frequently caught glimpse of scratches, bandages, and bruises covering her body. Some of them might be because of her playing around in the woods — and Souko had absolutely seen her doing a lot of reckless things that would get her injured — but…

Others must have been made by someone, Souko was pretty sure.

She tried to ask her a couple of times about her family, but the girl always brushed her asides and changed the topic when she did. Even Souko talked to her sometimes about her father and her uncle and her family, but the girl would never say anything back about herself. She clearly didn’t want to talk about her life at home. So Souko respected that — even if she didn’t like it.

She didn’t want to jump to conclusion about things she couldn’t possibly know either, but… she still worried.

“H-How was it?” Souko decided to ask, trying to stop thinking about such morose things.

“Hm? Oh, good. It was really good.”

Souko beamed. “Really?”

“Why would I lie about that?”

“Hehe, that’s true. Thank you! I’m so glad you like it.”

The girl actually stared at her and lifted an eyebrow at her words. “‘Thank you”?”

“Ah… I’m the one who made that.”

She had woken up earlier this morning specifically to prepare it, following her mother’s old recipe. Dad had been so surprised to see her in the kitchen — it had been the first time she cooked anything since she got sick. Until now, he’d been the one taking care of most of the cooking — or sometimes it was her aunt, when she was home.

Souko had forgotten how much fun cooking actually was.

She used to do it quite frequently back then, but then stopped after she got sick, just like most of her hobbies — and even now that she was recovering, she hadn't gone back to them. Even though now she could easily try them again without endangering her health. Gardening was the same, too. She wondered if she’d have as much fun gardening, if she did it again now.

It’d be nice if I could do those things with her, too, she had thought this morning while cutting off vegetables. The only things she did with the girl was playing games and talking, but she was sure they’d have fun doing other type of activities together as well. I wonder if she loves cooking and gardening…

The idea made her so happy that she had decided to creates the prettiest lunch box for the girl — as colorful as her old flower garden used to be — putting shades of red and green and pink all over, carving orange carrots in little flowers, putting the yellow egg yolk in the form of a sunflower.

Each color so vivid and lovely, each of them suiting the forest girl.

The memories of this morning made Souko smile, and she was only brought back to the present moment thanks to a strong wind blowing through her short dark hair. She turned her head towards the girl, about to apologize for her absentmindedness, but then stopped.

To her surprise, the girl actually seemed really taken aback, eyes wide and mouth agape. Was she truly that shocked by the fact Souko could cook?

(Or was it because she’d cooked for her, specifically?)

“O-Oh,” the girl stuttered — and for a bewildering, fascinating moment, Souko saw her cheeks reddens slightly.

Is she… blushing?

The moment disappeared as quickly as it appeared, and Souko almost thought she’d made it up, a conjured illusion of her mind. But the scarlet on her otherwise white cheeks, and her embarrassed expression, was engraved inside Souko's heart, and she couldn’t help the wide grin that then spreads on her lips.

Of course, scarlet was just as pretty as any other colors on the girl’s face.

She looked just like a flower herself, in all her silver and green and white and red.

Souko wished she was brave enough to kiss her just then.

Instead, she quietly promised to do everything in her power to see that expression on her face once again.

* * *

She couldn’t even remember how she managed to get home, that evening.

Her head wouldn’t stop pounding, so much that she was unable to think. Her body was so heavy that every step felt like torture. Her heart seemed like a dead weight inside her chest; a burden pulling her down and down.

She felt just like that day she’d collapsed for the first time, two years ago; the day that marked the start of the end of her normal life. The only lucid thing she could register was her voice, echoing inside her skull again and again and again.

“Reiko. My name is Reiko Natsume.”

“Go away.”

“You look pale. It’s starting to rain, so you should go home.”

“You should go home.”

Souko knew she should never have gone home the moment she turned around. She knew she should have stayed; that she should have kept talking to her — her forest girl, her ghost of an acquaintance; the lovely, strange, colorful person she fell in love with.

But her voice had been so cold, when she told her to go away.

Her eyes were blank and sharp at the same time, so different from the way she usually looked at her, and Souko couldn’t stand to see that.

And she just hadn’t… she had never even expected that she could be…

It made sense, if she really thought about it; what other teenage girl would spend all her time alone in the forest, but the rumored weird delinquent from the neighboring town?

But Souko had never thought of her like that until now; both seemed so unrelated in her mind, and she felt so shocked she hadn’t been able to properly process it.

And now her duel partner had already vanished, like a mirage of the woods, like she’d never existed at all.

Souko had taken her name, and then nothing of the girl was left.

Now she was all alone in the rain, and the blue of the sky had faded away, replaced with nothing but a foggy, looming gray.

Souko’s steps vacillated, and her head still hammering, she fell on the ground.

She’d finally won, after training for so long — she finally knew her name — and yet she still wasn’t… still couldn’t be her friend.

She needed to go back, she needed to apologize, she needed to talk to her—

But the sound of the rain and the coldness of Reiko Natsume’s voice were the only thing she could hear before her consciousness slipped away.

* * *

The following days were spent in a blur.

Souko barely even registered her father’s voice or her uncle’s hands or the doctor’s visits. She felt like she was in another dimension, far away from this house, this town, this country.

She felt like she was still stuck in that forest, alone with Reiko, the rest of the world non-existent.

In her dreams, Reiko was here, by her side; pretty in all colors of the rainbow, and she smiled, and laughed, and talked. They played games together, they cooked, they gardened.

In her dreams, Souko apologized. She told her she hadn’t meant to leave, she told her she didn’t care about the rumors about her. She told her that to Souko, she wasn’t a violent scary girl, but a fun, and beautiful, and kind person.

She told her she loved her.

In her dreams, Souko was brave enough to finally kiss her.

But then she opened her eyes, and she was all alone in her bed, and there was only the blue of the sky from her bedroom’s window.

One night, she had a different dream, though.

She felt like she heard someone crying, and then Reiko was there, blue petals falling over her hair and uniform.

As she woke up, Souko couldn’t remember what the dream had been about.

* * *

It took her three whole days before she was able to stand again.

Dad and Uncle were relieved, but Souko couldn’t share any of their enthusiasm. She still felt sick, but insisted nevertheless to go back to school. She couldn’t really bring herself to talk to anyone there though, even as her classmates fussed about her health; her mind focused on only one single person — and as soon as the day ended, she ran towards the forest, towards their usual rendez-vous spot.

(She knew she shouldn’t run, she was still coughing, she still felt so weak — but she couldn’t help it.

She had to see Reiko again, as quickly as possible.)

“Reiko?” She exclaimed upon arriving, but there was no one else.

There's no one yet, Souko reminded herself, trying to stay positive. I’m still early. She could come later.

“Reiko!”

She repeated her name for a while — and couldn’t help but think that if only the circumstances were different, she would feel so proud over it.

To have finally been able to learn her name, to be able to call it out like that.

But that didn’t matter much if no one was there to respond to it. To call Souko back.

I don’t even know how it’s written, she thought.

She tried to think of all the combinations of characters to write ‘Reiko’ that could fit her the most, but just like with colors, she couldn’t decide upon a single one. All of them could suit her.

She would have to ask her about it, next time she saw her.

At least she felt pretty certain on how to spell ‘Natsume.’

All-seeing eyes of the summer, the season of ghosts and spirits.

Souko sat at their usual place.

She waited.

She kept staring left and right, attentive to every sound; trying to catch the slightest glimpse of a silver thread.

But by the time dusk came, there was still no one.

She was still all alone.

* * *

Souko stopped talking to her classmates.

A few days after her last encounter with Reiko, she’d asked the girl from her class who’d first told her about the violent high schooler from next town if she knew anything else — but she’d ended up getting into an argument with her. Her classmates had always been very nice up until now, but as soon as she started asking about Reiko Natsume, they completely changed tune and started spewing all those terrible things about her — that she was a violent delinquent, that she was crazy, that she hurt people.

Souko couldn’t help but defend her. Her classmates had never even met Reiko — what did they know about her? But everyone refused to listen to her. They almost all had a specific creepy or terrible anecdote about Reiko Natsume; she hit my cousin, she talked to trees, she burned down a shop — I tell you, that Natsume girl is bad news! C’mon, Morinaga, why do you even want to associate with someone like that? — and so Souko stopped talking to them.

She didn’t mind. She had no intention to keep hanging around such judgmental people who spoke badly of someone purely because of some rumors they’d heard.

She herself felt so ashamed, to have simply believed those hearsay and repeated them thoughtlessly. She had believed she was doing the right thing by warning Reiko about a potentially dangerous person, because she cared about her and didn’t want anything to happen to her — but she couldn’t even imagine how Reiko must have felt hearing this. How badly Souko must have hurt her. And then, when she’d learned her name, Souko had just run away…

She wouldn’t be surprised if Reiko never wanted to see her again.

But even so, she couldn’t just leave things like that. She had to apologize, at least — she had to tell her that she… she didn’t think any of that, about her.

So she tried to ask around about Reiko, tried to find out if anyone knew where she could live, what school she went to — but whenever she did, she only received vague, uncertain answers. Reiko Natsume was a weird orphan who kept being passed around among families like an unwanted stray, so it was hard to keep track of where she was.

Nobody wanted her, and nobody tried to know anything about her.

She's just a poor crazy girl, was the kindest thing one could hear on her behalf.

The more Souko learned about Reiko Natsume, the less it made sense.

This weird, insane, violent girl was nothing at all like the girl she’d gotten to know. Her Reiko could be a little cold, and a little too blunt, but she was nice, and fun, and amazing. It was like two entirely different people sharing the same name. Souko couldn’t even begin to comprehend how anyone would say such awful things about her.

In the end, she wasn’t able to find anything more about her, and so she had no other choice but to go back to the forest, and wait. Which she did, day after day, even against her family’s protests, even when it rained, even when her health kept deteriorating.

She continued waiting alone.

But sometimes, just sometimes, she felt like she could feel another presence.

Like a ghost sitting by her side, waiting with her, sharing in her lost love and her sadness.

Souko thought back to the legends she’d heard about the forest from her classmates; the strange things Reiko would do sometimes — the stares behind her shoulder, dragging her away forcefully just because a branch had snapped, the way she’d gotten startled during their last match, as if she had been distracted by something…

Maybe Souko wasn’t so alone, after all.

Maybe there truly was someone else by her side, someone she couldn’t see.

Maybe if Reiko had seemed so radiant and vibrant, that was because she actually was able to see another world: a world full of new colors, invisible to others.

Souko found comfort at the idea; that she truly had a companion to share her feelings — her pain — with, even if only a little.

* * *

It was during a day with a completely clear blue sky when she had that dream again.

Souko had stopped being able to go to school a while ago, and thus at the same time she stopped being able to go to the forest as well — the first one she didn’t care about anymore, but the second was more troubling.

She didn’t really think Reiko would come back by now — but she still kept coming there, just in case, like a last prayer.

She wondered if her companion she couldn’t see would feel lonely now that she wouldn’t be there anymore. She wondered if they would miss her.

Where could Reiko be now? Was she still sleeping in a forest, talking to creatures only she could sees?

Was she still all alone?

Souko wished wherever she was, it was far, far away from all those people who spoke and treated her so badly. She wished she was able to find a friend, someone who would love her for the person she truly was and would stand by her side no matter what — even if that person couldn’t be Souko.

Her father was in the living room now, sleeping. He had spent the whole night crying, no matter how much Souko had tried to comfort him.

She wished she could find the right words for him — tell him that she was fine, that her life had still been full of wonders and happiness despite all the suffering, that he’d been a wonderful father — but they both knew there was nothing she could do that would soothe his pain. She wished she could apologize to him, for leaving him all alone just like Mom did, but she didn’t even have the energy to do so anymore. The rest of the family — her uncle and aunt and grandmother — should arrive tonight, and Souko hoped they’ll be able to do a better job than her at comforting him.

She looked up from her bed, at the window in front of her.

The large sky spread wide before her, and it was so deep and blue, and Souko wondered if this was how it looked the day she was born — the day her parents decided to name her after the saddest of all colors.

Although Souko had stopped finding blue as sad as she used to. Now when she thought of blue, she thought of the way Reiko used to say her name so gently, of the blue candy in her palm, of the blue flowers she saw in a dream that she couldn’t remember.

The blue of Souko.

From here, she could also see the barren garden — in the end, she hadn’t been able to plant anything there. She closed her eyes, slowly, and tried to picture the colorful flowers she would’ve liked to put there, the ones she wished she could’ve shown to Reiko.

As her mind drifted away, she heard someone crying.

A gentle voice, from a gentle presence.

Souko smiled, because she knew that presence; it was the same person — the same creature — that had kept her company all this time, while she was waiting for a girl she loved that would never come.

Like with her father, she wished she could comfort them, but nothing came to her mind.

However, as she kept straying farther and farther away from reality, a sight suddenly opened up to her eyes.

She’s in a meadow.

A flower field with blue, blue, blue petals everywhere — fluttering, dancing, as far as the eye can see.

And here, in the middle of the blue flowers, all alone, is her forest girl.

Tears wells up in Souko’s eyes, but she smiles, big and wide — and do the one thing she wishes she could’ve done months ago: she calls out her name.

“Reiko.”

The girl she loves turns around, and as her green eyes melt upon recognition, she has the most beautiful and genuine smile Souko has ever seen.

All the colors of the sky, of the forest and of the meadow gets reflected in her long silver hair, and blue has never looked so joyful.

* * *

Note: The first time I read those chapters, I didn’t even realize that Soranome implied Souko died at the end until someone pointed it out, and I can’t stop thinking about how terribly sad it is. I suppose one could argue maybe Souko just moved at the end and that’s why she stopped coming, but it doesn’t seem likely with the way Soranome phrased it. At least with Reiko, there’s a chance she was loved and happy for a while with the grandfather and then with her daughter afterwards, even if she still ended up losing them at the end. But Souko never got that chance. I only take comfort with the idea she had a loving family who took care of her. (And yes, if anyone’s wondering, I decided she was raised by a single father as a parallel to Tanuma.) But it’s also terrible there seems to be some implications that if Reiko had stayed then Souko wouldn’t have died, given it seemed to be the youkai of the forest that amplified her illness (much like how Tanuma has gotten healthier since meeting Natsume).

I went back and forth about the idea of Souko cutting ties with her classmates in the aftermath of her losing Reiko, because that also felt a little mean to her, but I honestly think she wouldn’t have tolerated anyone speaking badly of Reiko and would feel guilty for listening to the rumors.

I want to try writing something else less sad about them, but truthfully I really love the tragedy of their story haha. Still, maybe I’ll give them a silly little happy ending one day.

#Natsume Yuujinchou #Natsume's Book of Friends #Natsume Reiko #Morinaga Souko #Natsume's Grandmas #Soranome #NatsuYuu #Natsume #Reiko Natsume #Souko Morinaga #ReiSou #ReiSouko #Connan's Fanfics #Fanfiction #Soranome (Natsume's Book of Friends) #Connan's Posts #Soranome NatsuYuu #SouReiko #Soranome Natsume Yuujinchou #NatsuYuu Fanfic #Souko #Reiko #Reiko x Souko #Natsuchou #Souko x Reiko

[ikesenwritings]

Ikesen Headcannon where the Mc has an almost an almost identical personality to the suitor?

Also, I’ve been reading through your posts and they made me smile—have had a hard time doing that as of late so thank you!

A/N: Hi there! Thank you for the kind words, I’m really happy that you’ve been able to smile from my blog!! This definitely made my day :))))))

You didn’t specify a suitor so I assumed you wanted all the Ikesen men. Because there are so many, I didn’t think I’d be able to fully cover the scope of what it’d be like if MC had almost the same personality so I decided to narrow it down to one or two traits that the suitors have and go from there. I hope that’s okay and that you enjoy it regardless! ❤️ Would love to revisit some time later and write something proper where MC and the suitor have identical personalities!

-

[HC] MC sharing traits with the warlords

Suitor(s): Nobunaga, Hideyoshi, Mitsunari, Mitsuhide, Masamune, Ieyasu, Kenshin, Shingen Content Warnings: None

Nobunaga

He’s met his match alright

Sure, the other warlords have big, strong personalities

But Nobunaga and MC?

Even Mitsuhide was surprised to see the two dominating figures in a room together and not be at each other’s throats

Hideyoshi was even more flabbergasted when Nobunaga began letting MC have a bigger stake at war councils

Masamune found the whole thing to be amusing; Ieyasu, a waste of time

Mitsunari was happy enough to have MC participating

MC was no warrior—she knew that well enough—but she certainly had the ability to adapt, persevere, learn, and share thoughts on current situations

Nobunaga acknowledged that and once he realized the depth of his feelings for her, he decided it was best to have her in the loop of things

Hence, the increased participation in war councils

Though he’d never admit it, Nobunaga found himself quite impressed and head over heels for a woman who matched his tenacity, yet maintained some degree of innocence a soldier would never have

He really did believe MC was his lucky charm

Never did he think he’d be allowed a love like this—someone to confide in, both personally and professionally; to have both input and support while pursuing a wild dream of unifying Japan

Hideyoshi

Just imagine Ieyasu’s eyes rolling when everyone recognized MC taking after the resident mother hen Hideyoshi

Extreme loyalty was perhaps MC’s Achilles heel

How Nobunaga was to Hideyoshi, Mitsunari was to MC

It truly warmed Hideyoshi’s heart to see someone besides Nobunaga recognize the talent and potential in his favorite vassal

Hideyoshi and MC actually started spending more time together on account of looking after Mitsunari, which then prompted teasing from Mitsuhide

Ieyasu went as far as calling the two a married couple looking after a lost child

Eventually, late-night discussions about Mitsunari’s future success morphed into long conversations about each other’s hopes and dreams, which then served as a catalyst for MC to start looking after Hideyoshi

And Hideyoshi could do nothing more than to accept this level of attention from her and develop deeper feelings for MC

Mitsunari

MC and Mitsunari—like two roses in a bed of thorns

They’re both known for such a lovely and radiating personality that contrasts the cruel warring period they were placed in

The others will often find the two completing tasks for one another or doing sneaky little things to lighten the load for the other person

Ieyasu will often ask Mitsunari why he even troubles him with errands when there’s MC who will gladly do anything for anyone with a smile on her face

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask Lady MC. She’s done far too much for me as of late.”

And just before Ieyasu could leave a bitter remark about how MC could run marathons and still offer her help—

“Ieyasu, play nice, we all know you like to check in on Mitsu from time to time… Mitsunari, did you need something? You know I’m always happy to help out with things! Oh, these must be the books that need to be returned to the archives… and here are the documents Masamune was looking for… and oh, Ieyasu, here’s the leftover salve Mitsunari said he would return!”

Mitsunari’s mouth hung open in surprise—maybe he did need MC’s help with some things

There may be two balls of sunshine in Azuchi castle but MC is surely more “present” than Mitsunari if that’s what you’d like to call it

Things don’t fly over her head nearly as much as they do Mitsunari’s and she’s always quick to defend him when soldiers start poking fun at him

Ieyasu grumbled a “thank you” and “I certainly do not like to check in on the dolt, I simply need to—er, Nobunaga and Hideyoshi need me to…” before leaving

One thing MC loved about Mitsu was his extreme focus and attentiveness in matters that were important to him

One of them being books

You best believe Hideyoshi was thinking “Oh no, what do we do? Now there’s two of them who can never get their head out of a book.” when he found MC and Mitsunari buried deep in books about clothing and battle tactics, dinners untouched

Mitsuhide

If there was anything the warlords didn’t particularly appreciate about the chatelaine, it was the stark resemblance to Mitsuhide’s teasing and elusive mannerisms

Sometimes, the maids were certain they recognized a glint in MC’s eyes identical to the infamous kitsune’s

Nobunaga considered it all to be fine entertainment; he found it quite amusing to see his fireball trade insults with the rest of them, no matter the time or place

Mitsuhide was particularly impressed by how easily the lies seemed to roll off MC’s tongue

Where was she from? Why didn’t she know basic history? Why was her writing so unique? What region could possibly account for her strange colloquial terms?

MC had an answer for everything, whether they were plausible reasonings or not—that was the fun of it, she thought

Unlike Mitsuhide, who lied and deceived on another level for Nobunaga, MC lied and evaded questions for the simple joy of fabricating stories

Of course, Masamune, at one point, said she’d be better off as a performer than a princess if she was to go on telling obvious lies one day and not-so-obvious lies the other day

Usually, the warlords put up with MC’s Mitsuhide-like personality, but on the days where they didn’t, expect that Hideyoshi would give MC a stern talking to and then offer her tea and a meal before leaving his manor

Masamune

What. A. Flirt.

Masamune had a field day when MC was first brought to Azuchi castle and she was not pulling any of her punches

Punches being suggestive comments and silly professions of love that matched Masamune’s, if not more—all while still on horseback

Oh, and the flirting was not limited to the One-Eyed Dragon

MC always enjoyed teasing the three who were most likely to get flustered—Hideyoshi, Mitsunari, and Ieyasu

“Mitsunari, when will you ever show up to war council not looking like a complete mess? You might as well shave your head if you’re not going to be putting in any effort to make your hair look presentable.”

“Oh, don’t listen to the grump, Mitsunari. I happen to think you look very cute just how you are right now,” MC confidently says while also flattening his cowlick.

“Oh! Ieyasu, would you like me to help fix your hair as well? Though I suppose not. The fluffy hair paired with those green eyes just makes you look so handsome.”

Poor Mitsunari and Ieyasu’s ears were searing hot after MC stepped into the council room, the two following behind with a laughing Masamune

Then came the days where Masamune realized how out of sorts he felt whenever MC teased and flirted with anyone else—the days where he knew for sure, that whenever he and MC went back and forth, it was real

And Masamune being Masamune didn’t really have an answer for this problem he was facing

Not a verbal one, at least

After spending the afternoon at the tea house with Ieyasu and Masamune, MC was naturally throwing compliments around

When they got to the gates of Azuchi castle, “Hey, Ieyasu, we’ll see ya later. The lass and I are going on a ride.”

MC was fully expecting Masamune to gallop but instead, it was a nice trot to a nearby lake

Words weren’t really exchanged, just a quiet appreciation for their surroundings

And without further thinking, Masamune landed a kiss on MC’s lips, which was enthusiastically returned

Ieyasu

When MC first arrived at Azuchi and wasn’t afraid to trade blows with the resident porcupine, Ieyasu sure was surprised (though, of course, he was quick to hide that with another scathing remark)

Oh, Nobunaga sure loved this—his lucky charm had a sharp tongue to go against (who he viewed as) his little brother

And when Nobunaga ordered Ieyasu to house MC after the ronin attack? Eyes were rolling to the back of their heads.

Mitsunari was really the only one excited for MC, exclaiming that there was a lot to learn from Lord Ieyasu if she chose to pursue any studies

Everyone else thought it was a situation waiting to go up in flames

The two never stopped bickering, but they always got things done

Strangely, Ieyasu and MC worked like a well-oiled machine

And at the end of the day, though they’d never admit it to each other, they were always impressed by the other, and there grew a need to never let the other person down, no matter the task

Then came the battle with the Uesugi-Takeda forces where Ieyasu and MC ran the infirmary

There was an enemy attack, leaving many injured soldiers scrambling or in the line of fire

MC took off, hoping to lend a hand to any handicapped warrior

“Really, MC. I thought by now, you’d be capable of possessing critical thinking skills.”

The rearguard was able to retreat successfully; Ieyasu was now tending to a wounded MC, whose arm was grazed by an arrow

“Ow! Hey, I thought you were supposed to be good at this.”

Out of worry, Ieyasu hadn’t realized just how much pressure he was applying while dressing her injury

“Yeah, well, that’s what you get for being a complete idiot and running towards the enemy.”

“Please, like you weren’t doing the same.”

“I was running after you and your pea-sized brain.”

“Oh, lucky you.”

The two locked eyes with each other, Ieyasu’s hand still latched onto MC’s now bandaged arm

There was a pause, a moment where their surroundings seemed to freeze, right before Ieyasu engulfed MC in a tight embrace

Arms wrapped around her neck, cheek pressed against the top of her head

“You’re a moron. A complete moron. Don’t even think of pulling something like that again.”

Kenshin

MC can hold her liquor

Like, seriously

No one could really believe it—Yukimura was extremely horrified and concerned that he’d be waking up to either a dead MC or a constantly-throwing-up MC in the morning

At this point, everyone saw Kenshin as the one true exception to the perils that excessive drinking could do to a person but damn, add MC to that very short list

Kenshin was certainly pleased to finally have a drinking partner that could and would match shot for shot with him, even if it was a woman

But… he pours all of her drinks with the slightest of smiles !!

At first, the drinking and the celebrations passed by in silence with the occasional quip whenever Shingen, Yukimura, or Sasuke said something ridiculous in Kenshin’s mind

As time passed and MC was slowly, but surely, developing the bravery to withstand Kenshin’s steely gaze and harsh threats, conversations of war and its purpose—specifically Kenshin’s purpose—came to be

What MC viewed as a step forward—discussing the logistics of fighting the Oda—was three steps backward for Kenshin, but MC refused to sway

Eventually, Kenshin stopped disregarding MC’s questions and gave his answers

When that didn’t satisfy her, Kenshin found himself seeking MC out and bringing her to more secluded locations, sake in hand, to discuss anything she wanted to know about him, Kasugayama, and Echigo

Shingen

MC could wax poetic all day and all night

And Shingen would gladly drown in her lyricism

He was used to flirting and doling out romanticisms for the women of Kasugayama, but to have someone so alluring, so exquisite, shower him with equally romantic one-liners?

Oh, he’s practically on his hands and knees, begging for more than just MC’s saccharine words

On the nights when Shingen visits MC to “watch the moon”:

There’s usually a nice lull where the two sit side by side on a tatami mat, hands just inches apart

The air is crisp, the sky is clear

And the two share the gentlest of smiles with each other while whispering sweet nothings

The thing with Shingen and MC was that they were both fine with those nights being tiny, fleeting moments

Nothing permanent, just casual flirting for a few hours between two attractive people

Of course, it wouldn’t be like this forever—eventually, Shingen would take his romantic utterances a bit too far, a bit too serious, and MC would tell him to quit it

Shingen would then say, “I’m serious, MC. I’m in love with you. I love everything about you.”

A furrow of his brow and a slight frown, Shingen really couldn’t fathom why MC thought he’d be joking about something so important before feeling the sweet sensation of her lips against his

#cybird ikemen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikesen headcanons #ikesen hcs #ikesen nobunaga #ikesen hideyoshi #ikesen mitsunari #ikesen mitsuhide #ikesen masamune #ikesen ieyasu #ikesen kenshin #ikesen shingen

[master-of-47-dudes]

i don’t remember the game too terribly well, so forgive me if this is wrong, but is there any reason to assume the Ing are actually self-aware? i know the game repeatedly states the Ing are intelligent and vicious, but those don’t necessarily indicate if they’re truly sapient. animals can certainly be intelligent, and organized into castes/hierarchies, and very hostile to interlopers on their territory, but they arent as mentally aware as we are. could it be that, for as dangerous and powerful as the Ing are, they’re not much more than advanced animals? (its kind of like Peter Watt’s Blindsight novel, where the aliens are much more advanced than humans, and are extremely hostile, but dont have self-awareness like us, its a really good book and its free, check it out its awesome) what im trying to get at is, perhaps we dont see the Ing’s perspective, not just to keep them mysterious and frightening, but because they dont have a perspective to see?

So you make an interesting point: ARE the Ing self-aware? I haven't read Blindsight, so I will take your recommendation to read it, but I can’t put that bit of perspective into play here.

As the Ing give us no information on their perspective, it's impossible to definitively say one way or another if Ing as a whole are sapient. As our only sources of insight into their behaviors come from Luminoth lore as well as what our scans of the Ing and the Darklings tell us, there's a few things we can extrapolate:

- The lowest Ing on the totem pole are Bladepods, Ingworm Caches, and Ingsphere Caches. These guys act as storage units, meaning the Ing understand the importance of useful items, resources, and equipment, as well as keeping them protected in strategic locations for later retrieval.

(What constitutes a useful resource for the Ing is unknown, as Samus's suit converts things into forms that it can absorb when destroying them.)

Regardless, I hope these Ing aren't self-aware because their existence is a sad one.

- The caste of a given Ing seems to be assigned at birth or at some point afterwards based on the current needs of the Horde; the word assigned is specifically used in the scan for the Ingworm Cache, and the various other scans of Ing forms do not seem to contradict this (Inglets being workers, for example). This isn't dissimilar to hive insects, though.

- Darklings, however, are where things get interesting. The Ing are extremely choosy about which Ing can handle what. Certain creatures, such as an Alpha Splinter, are prioritized by the Ing as targets for possession. War Wasps are specifically used by young, inexperienced Ing to gain experience and prove themselves before they're allowed stronger creatures. Pirate Commandos are ONLY allowed to be possessed by Hunter Ing. Certain creatures, like the Shredder, are targeted for use in specific areas where their adaptations make them particularly useful. It's clear that choosing a target to possess is something that an Ing has to put a great deal of consideration into, both in terms of their experience as well as what will be useful in the environment they find themselves in.

- Ing are demonstrated to possess known sapient creatures. The Luminoth lores indicate that Luminoth were possessed, and we see it happen to both (dead) humans as well as (live) Space Pirates. While the humans are not fully possessed by the time Samus encounters them (them being corpses probably hinders the Ing some), the Dark Pirate Troopers and Dark Pirate Commandos ARE fully possessed and display no loss in intelligence or tactical capacity as a result of their possession. Ing minds have thusly interacted with sapient minds and taken control of them without issue; if they did not have conscious thought before, they may have learned it from this exposure given their penchant for learning from the creatures they possess.

- Speaking of learning, the Ing discovered their penchant for integrating themselves into technology and technology into themselves through possession of Luminoth technology and Space Pirates in general. Given that the Ing do not seem interested in or capable of engineering anything themselves, any knowledge they gained regarding utilizing stolen technology must have been learned either through experimentation or through directly stealing knowledge from the Luminoth and Space Pirates they possessed. Regardless of how they learn, they DO learn and can spread the knowledge they gain to other members of the Horde. As a result of discovering Space Pirates, the Ing began actively hunting for technology to utilize- the Ing were aware enough that when they discovered a shortcoming in their abilities, they immediately began to use what they learned to patch that.

- The fact that the Ing were repeatedly able to outmaneuver the technologically superior Luminoth at every turn is an indicator that the Ing are tactically intelligent. Sure, a large part of the Ing's advantage was through zerg rushing the weakened Luminoth after the phazon meteor struck Aether, but they also were noted to possess Luminoth to disrupt the Luminoth's ability to organize and fight back, as well as stealing just about every single weapon and tool the Luminoth developed to use against them. Weapons they couldn’t use themselves, like the Light Beam, were instead locked away where the Luminoth couldn’t retrieve them. Others, like the Annihilator Beam or the Dark Suit, were integrated into their most powerful Darklings to guard the energy they stole. And going after the Energy Controllers in a bid to stabilize Dark Aether is an indication of complex understanding and thought; it's hard to imagine an animal intelligence grasping a concept such as planetary stability or energy instead of simply colonizing Light Aether as an expansion of territory.

Overall, I think that the Ing are definitely capable of complex thought. The intelligence they possess is much more than animal, and there's indicators that they do put a great deal of consideration into their actions, they understand tactics and complex subjects, and they are capable of quickly learning to utilize unfamiliar tools and integrate them into their bodies and their Horde. I would peg them as almost certainly being sapient in terms of cognitive ability and awareness.

As for whether they're specifically self-aware? That's a different, weirder question. Given their similarity to hive insects as well as their sheer, bizarre scale of organization, and the speed at which new information seems to propagate through the Horde? They might be operating through a hivemind to achieve that, and individual Ing may not be particularly aware of themselves outside the whole.

ANYWAY, nothing I've listed explicitly proves one way or the other that the Ing are of human-like intelligence or awareness. It's my interpretation of the limited information on them given, and you’re free to have a different one.

#Ing #Metroid Prime 2 #Metroid #rambling #interesting ask! #also animals are self-aware your dog has a concept of self just like a human does

[doingproblematicmedia]

“Oh boy! Like Lion King!” - Africa, Pop Culture, and The Book of Mormon

I think we can all agree that The Book of Mormon hasn’t aged well.

It’s been twelve years since The Book of Mormon opened on Broadway, which is crazy to think about. Twelve years ago we all thought Mitt Romney was the worst thing that could happen to the US. 

Two years ago the US took another look at racism. The Black production members spearheaded an effort to review the show. The goals of this review were to address the way the African characters are portrayed and to center them more in the work.

I’m not familiar with the outcome of this effort. It’s hard to find details on the show’s new look, apart from some little tidbits regarding the main female lead and her actions in the show.

But I think there is one element of The Book of Mormon that critics have been failing to address for a long time - an element that is built into the bones of the show, yet goes unnoticed.

When Elders Price and Cunningham are told where they’re going to go on their mission, we get our first glimpse:

VOICE: And your mission location is...UGANDA!

[Music stops.]

ELDER PRICE: ...Uganda?

ELDER CUNNINGHAM: UGANDA? Cool! Where is that?!

VOICE: Africa!

[Price looks visibly upset, but then bucks up and tries to rally himself.]

ELDER CUNNINGHAM: Oh BOY - like Lion King!

and few pages in the script later:

PRICE’S DAD: ...You’re heading...TO AFRICA!!!!!

[The families make it offstage. The lights go dark and a spot comes up on a Lion King-like character who enters stage.]

LION KING CHARACTER:  Hey na da hey na! Aya bubbu taya tayaaaaaa! Haiyaaaa tayaaaa mala ennyaaaaaa! Hey naaa naaa naaa da hayaaa!

[Finally the lights come up, the families are back, and we are STILL at the airport.]

PRICE’S DAD: How did you like THAT, boys?! A real LION KING SEND-OFF! We got Mrs Brown to sing like an African for you.

ELDER PRICE: That’s great dad, thanks.

LION KING CHARACTER: [Waving] Good luck, boys! I’ve never been to Africa, but I’m sure it’s a hoot!

The only thing Americans know about Africa is Lion King. The show is hammering this point home to us.

We’re immediately set up to think of Africa through a pop cultural lens. And as soon as the Elders get to Uganda, we’re immediately shown a different image of Africa: poverty, militia violence, and AIDS.

This is another idea of Africa rooted in American pop culture. Yes, these things exist in Africa, but Africa is a much more diverse and dynamic place that American pop culture gives it credit for. 

And yet, we’re presented with two takes on Africa heavily rooted in American pop culture. The Africa we’re shown in The Book of Mormon is not authentic. I don’t believe this is an accident! I don’t believe this is a lazy American team failing to understand what really makes Africa. 

Pop culture is a theme woven throughout the show, besides the constant Lion King jokes. When Elder Cunningham forgets his Mormon theology, he falls back on pop culture, like Star Wars and Lord of the Rings. By weaving pop culture into his missionary work, he finds himself successfully getting through to the Ugandan villagers where the other Mormon missionaries have failed. 

And in the end, the converted villagers present a new story of Joseph Smith, one built with the pop culture they’ve been introduced to.

After all, the show asks, are religious stories not just another form of pop culture? Our myths, our legends, the stories that inform our lives - whether they be out of a religious document or owned by Disney, it’s the stories we tell that make life meaningful. And when we no longer find meaning in these stories, we can adapt and change them to make new meaning.

It’s the stories we tell that are powerful - powerful enough to inform Americans’ view of a whole continent.

In The Book of Mormon, we’re presented with a pop cultural version of Africa. But unlike most American media that depicts Africa in this way, we’re asked to examine our conceptions and where they come from, and how they do not reflect reality.

Unfortunately, I don’t think the show is successful in asking this question.

The Book of Mormon is frequently called out for its depictions and treatment of Africa and the African characters. And rightfully so. The African characters come off as primitive, disease-ridden, and sexually violent. In many ways, I think, the show is trying to critique these stereotypes. But it does not speak loudly enough against them in order to do so.

The problem with offering up an Africa that is built on American pop culture, is that we aren’t given an alternative to this lens. We aren’t given any material to compare against a pop cultural depiction. Why would we question the stereotypes when the show doesn’t give us any reason to? Telling us that we’re in a world informed by pop culture isn’t enough. We need a way to break through this depiction, and come closer to something resembling authenticity.

After all, this show talks about the power of communal story-telling. But theatre is another form of communal story-telling. And when they’re telling us a story about an Africa that is dirty, brutal, and desperate - we have no material to build a new story out of.

The reason all the missionaries before our protagonists failed - they offered nothing new, nothing that is relevant or can speak to the villagers.

And the audience is being offered nothing new either.

Is it even ethical to depict people based on how American popular culture views them? I don’t have a great answer to this. When it comes down to it, The Book of Mormon tries to tell us that we don’t know anything about Africa by showing us what we think we know. All we know are tired stereotypes. 

One of the songs leading up to the finale, “I am Africa”, ridicules this:

MISSION PRESIDENT: Elders of District 9! You have truly honored the church by your success! Congratulations on becoming ONE with the people of Africa!

ELDER MICKINLEY: I am Africa...

I am Africa.

With the strength of the cheetah,

my native voice shall sing.

ELDERS: We are Africa! We are the heartbeat of Africa!

With the rhino, the meerkat, the noble lion king.

We are the winds of the Serengeti,

we are the sweat of the jungle man,

we are the tears of Nelson Mandela -

we are the lost boys of the Sudan.

All this time in Africa, and the missionaries and the audience still know shit about Africa. This song is laughing at the audience as much as it is laughing at the missionaries.

The curtain falls, the audience smiles and leaves, and we still know shit about Africa. The show has pointed this out again and again. But this message gets lost. I know it’s gotten lost because I’ve never seen this offered as a critical lens. To viewers, the show is either fun and weirdly wholesome, or it’s offensive. 

Is it ethical to offer up a depiction based on American pop culture, when we’re missing the fact that what we’re being offered is inauthentic?

Nobody was asking these questions in 2011. But that was twelve years ago, and our expectations for media are changing. The Book of Mormon was a product of its time. I don’t think it could become an unquestioned hit today. That’s ok. There will be more media. More chances to ask:

How can American media truly do Africa - a giant, bustling, diverse, whole continent - justice?

And more chances to answer.

-

[All show dialogue is taken from the script book, published by Newmarket Press in 2011. A lot of the dialogue is written in caps, which I have frequently removed to improve legibility.]

#the book of mormon #other media #I've actually been wanting to write this essay for years cheers guys #I promise that the projects in the works are coming soon!

[absynthe--minded]

So the thing about the PJ films going all in for the “Girl Power!” stuff is that it’s really not the situation that’s happening in the books?

Now, for some reason that I don’t understand, the political situation and actual plot of the Rohan arc of LotR got completely gutted and rewritten to something that makes significantly less sense than the text, and Éowyn’s storyline really suffers as a result.

In the book (and this is vastly simplifying things), instead of evacuating everyone (including civilians) from Edoras to Helm’s Deep, the army rides out to meet Saruman’s Uruk-hai in battle and realizes that shit is significantly worse than they’d anticipated. They pick the Hornburg as a reasonable place for a last stand, and Gandalf leaves to try and gather other fighters to provide support. The army is coming for them and the battle will happen, and they pick what they hope will be a good place to defend, since they’re significantly more outnumbered than they suspected. Théoden never tries to get out of fighting, he’s trying to make sure he controls the where + how + when of the coming storm.

While all this was happening, Éowyn was acting as a sort of regent, and this is the responsibility that is once again extended to her when the King and her brother and the army ride to war. Her being “left behind” and barred from fighting is her being charged with the defense of her people and told to lead them in the stead of their King. That’s not a responsibility given to someone who’s seen as incapable of leadership or making decisive and good choices! She’s also given mail and a sword to act as signs that in an emergency she’s got military authority.

Now, when she and Aragorn argue, she directly links this to her gender - she feels and she says that the only reason she’s being given this less-prestigious less-worthy job is because she’s a woman. The Rohirrim value prowess on the field of battle, and she desperately wants to be valued, but she thinks that because she’s a girl she’s locked out of that boys’ club. She says so outright (the excellent “You have leave to be burned with the house” line). What’s of course actually going on is that she’s suicidal and not thinking clearly, and she sees being given a less-prestigious role out of necessity as a sign that she’s not valued, and this aspect of her characterization is more relevant later in the Houses of Healing.

(Now, Tolkien writes about Éowyn in a very sexist way. He does this pretty consistently, and getting around that to see what’s actually going on with her character is basically step 1 of interpreting how to treat her in a fanwork or adaptation. It’s very clear that he himself has a lot of opinions about how she ought to be behaving and you can’t escape those when you’re looking at her. I don’t personally think they impact the themes of her story arc, but that’s a matter of reader opinion really.)

all this to say - Éowyn is not being told by the characters that she can’t fight because she’s a girl. The narrative is certainly arguing that, but it’s also arguing that being eager to die and kill is flawed and that basing your self-worth on how good you are at being violent isn’t sustainable and that there can be joy after depression. It also features a sequence later where something similar happens to men - when the suicide distraction run on the Morannon is in progress, Aragorn directs soldiers who are scared to go on and maybe die but who are afraid to admit this because they don’t want to be seen as unmanly or cowardly to take part in rebuilding efforts and repair work.

As a result, PJ and Fran and Philippa had a chance to really make Éowyn’s story about everything but gender, everything that’s going on in the actual themes and subtext of the book. They could have ignored Tolkien’s sexism, and made her a more fleshed-out person. Instead, they gave us “everyone (even the heroes) thinks this girl can’t fight because she’s a girl, and she proves them wrong!” The whole “war is the province of men, Éowyn” scene just exists to hammer home the presence of sexism that isn’t there in the world itself, and so her entire Thing is “but I’m a girl with a sword”.

I kind of think that’s dumb, you know?

#replies #carlandrea #tolkien #absynthe’s meta #éowyn

[jinx-you-owe-me]

this is a continuation of my thoughts from this post about justus & den nichtraucher + „married for 30 years“

i did write it at 1am and it is a whole garbled mix of english and german, but that’s how my brain works and i don’t think it conveys the same point if i try to translate it. sorry :(

something something ALMOST.

they were ALMOST something and then it was ripped away from them and they were torn apart and they lost each other.

they still wear the rings they exchanged, 30 years later.

when people notice it and ask if they’re married or ask about their wife or something like that, they always play it off and say it’s a sentimental thing, ein geschenk von einem alten bekannten. sowas in der art 

they still wear the rings they exchanged, when they were so young, so much younger than they are now, and maybe it’s too late? maybe all those years DIDN'T go by without trace, maybe everything is different now, maybe everything has changed and he doesn’t feel the same as he felt all those years ago?

but he’s still wearing the ring. 

both of them are still wearing the ring.

(something something THE LOVE IS STILL THERE SYMBOLIZED BY THE RINGS THEY GAVE EACH OTHER AS A PROMISE WHEN THAT WAS ALL THEY COULD DO, THERE WAS SO MUCH UNSAID BUT THEY GAVE EACH OTHER A SILENT PROMISE-

wait. something something johnny/martin, nachdem sie den justus und den nichtraucher zusammenbringen, am zaun - wo sie sich die hand geben und ein stummes versprechen, dass sich mit worten gar nicht ausdrücken lässt.

OH MEIN GOTT WHAT IF THE PARALLELS

something something justus/nichtraucher & johnny/martin parallels 

i never really noticed that before someone pointed out that was apparently what they were going for in the 2003 film??

but oh my god what if parallels…

i need to think about this some more.

wenn martin wie der justus ist, dann ist johnny wie der nichtraucher 

martin / justus parallels ist klar, martin hat sich den justus als vorbild genommen

und something something „der justus is everyone’s dad but especially martins and the nichtraucher is everyone’s dad but especially johnnys“ (von @is-this-taken-too-questionmark)

where was i going

right

but just imagine

der justus und der nichtraucher meet again and it’s like in the book because the book is superior which i also like because it’s so open ended. it’s so intimate. they reunite and martin and johnny immediately know to give them their space.

i also like that it was just a martin/johnny thing to plan that. in all the adaptations i’ve watched they take the whole gang with them and everyone watches.

meanwhile in the book it’s so private and intimate (like i said)

i’m just saying when you consider every adaptation the version where it made the most sense for them to kiss would be the book. because they were alone. no one else around. and we leave so anything could have happened really 

i imagine it like 

they spent quite some time catching up. crying probably. maybe not talking about feelings yet cause. you know. they just found each other again after decades. don’t wanna ruin that. 

but both of them notice the ring is still on the others hand. and they don’t bring it up because „well, ich will nichts überstürzen. das muss ja gar nichts bedeuten. i’d better not get my hopes up.“ but they both steal little glances at it while they sit in the eisenbahnwaggon and talk and drink tea.

and then they go out?

i don’t fully remember how it went, i really need to reread.

but they go out. just to the lokal the nichtraucher plays at. just as friends, of course. just as friends. even if there was something more it’d be way too dangerous in 1930s germany.

(ohh unrelated aber an dieser stelle fällt mir die szene aus dem 1954 film ein, wo die beiden auf dem nachhauseweg eine schneeballschlacht machen… unterhalten die sich im buch auch über den briefkasten, der da immer noch steht? ist das canon oder hab ich mir das ausgedacht?)

jedenfalls!! 

die ringe symbolisieren das stumme versprechen. parallels to the silent promise between johnny and martin.

dass sie die ringe nach all den jahren noch tragen ist das symbol dafür, dass sie immer noch nacheinander suchen/aufeinander warten/sich nacheinander sehnen/einander nicht vergessen können etc. -> dass sie sich immer noch lieben!!

ich denk aber grad auch, so ein ring wär vielleicht sogar ein gutes cover für einen queeren menschen zu dieser zeit? ein ehering, den er nie abnimmt und über dessen geschichte er nicht reden will? oh, der ärmste hat seine frau verloren… (hat der nichtraucher ja auch)

(da muss ich auch überlegen. der nichtraucher war ja verheiratet. die frau ist bei der geburt gestorben, wenn ich mich recht erinnere. und danach war der nichtraucher so am boden zerstört, dass er verschwunden ist. (wohin eigentlich? ich muss rereaden…)

der justus war ebenfalls am boden zerstört. 

fragt sich nur, wie mein „married for 30 years“ da reinpassen würde.

wahrscheinlich gar nicht so wirklich.

der nichtraucher war verheiratet. er liebte seine frau. (bi king.) da war schon irgendwie was mit johann, aber darüber hat er lieber nicht nachgedacht. johann was a little bit heartbroken deep inside. but he loved his friend more than he cared about his own heartache (bc i’m a sucker for this painful yearning/pining shit >:3)

years and decades later. robert returns to the town, not knowing that johann was right there. 

(did they seriously just live in the same town for years probably and never notice??)

maybe robert returned because he felt the ache too. he missed johann. and so, maybe subconsciously, maybe intentionally, he returns to the town they both went to school together. 

and he’s happy in his little eisenbahnwaggon. he befriends the kids from the internat (man, now i wanna write about how the boys and the nichtraucher became friends…). this is basically all in the book.

johann stayed in this town. (is that book accurate. check!!)

on one hand, because of his job as a teacher. you know the story. you know why that was important to him. but maybe (just maybe) he also stayed for robert? maybe he hoped they would both find their way back here after all those years?

(and they did!!)

ok thinking about people’s reactions to the ring again….

der justus ist unverheiratet. (er ist schwul)

und der nichtraucher ist zu isoliert, als dass leute oft nach dem ring fragen würden. die jungs fragen einmal, als sie zu besuch sind. und der nichtraucher erzählt, das sei ein andenken an einen alten freund, den er verloren habe. oder vielleicht sagt er sogar, er ist von einer verlorenen liebe?! keeping it genderneutral and ambiguous.

[„ach. diesen ring habe ich vor langer zeit von einer verlorenen liebe bekommen. ich kann mich einfach nicht davon trennen.“]

don’t know what the justus would say. vielleicht fragt ihn einer der jungs irgendwann: „sagen sie mal, dr bökh. ich wollte sie bloß fragen - warum tragen sie eigentlich einen ring, wenn sie nicht verheiratet sind?“

keine ahnung, wie der justus darauf antwortet. er reagiert mit einem milden lächeln und sagt etwas ähnliches wie der nichtraucher. vielleicht etwas wie „dieser ring ist ein versprechen, dass ich vor langer zeit gegeben habe.“

(side note: potential shipname; justraucher (lmao))

vielleicht figuren martin und johnny es heraus, weil sie wieder bemerken, wie die teile zusammenpassen

okay!! back on point!!

maybe it makes more sense in a 2003 movie way?

young 17-year old bob und johann in the 60s.

they give each other a promise, although they never quite kiss. and that promise is kept, even when bob runs away and leaves johann with everything in his wake.

und manchmal ist johann wirklich sauer auf robert. wie er ihn sitzen gelassen hat. und er überlegt, den ring abzunehmen- aber dann tut er es nicht. 

er ist ja auch nicht wirklich wütend auf robert. er versteht, warum er tat, was er tat. dafür kennen sie sich viel zu gut. und am meisten vermisst er ihn eigentlich. besonders wenn er den ring anguckt. aber trotzdem -oder deshalb- bleibt der ring. das ist schließlich alles, was er noch so wirklich übrig hat von bob. 

auch, wenn sein herz gebrochen wurde- dieses versprechen hat er noch. er hat es noch. an seinem finger. tag und nacht.

der punkt ist, ihm wurde das herz gebrochen. deshalb rastet er so aus, als die kinder mit dem „fliegenden klassenzimmer“ ankommen - das reißt alte wunden auf. aber vielleicht ist das ja etwas gutes…?

„ich wüsste übrigens auch gern, was los ist.“, sagt kathrin sanft, als die kinder in seinem büro stehen.

und während er erzählt, die ganze geschichte - na gut, die halbe. einige dinge kann er einfach nicht teilen - da huscht kathrins blick zu dem ring an seiner hand und verständnis spült über ihr gesicht.

(dem ring, der der grund ist, warum er keinen ehering für kathrin an die hand nehmen wollte. 

wait, what if johann/nichtraucher/kathrin und johann hat nicht nur zwei hände sondern auch zwei ringe)

und als sie sich dann wieder treffen und johann sieht, dass auch robert nach all den jahren den ring noch trägt-

da ist das ein zweites versprechen. ein versprechen, dass das erste niemals gebrochen wird.

(and yes of course they kiss. and no, the kids aren’t there, because these men deserve some privacy goddamn)

ok i think i’m done for now

how many words were that 

NOPE ANOTHER!!

»something between exes and old friends and former lovers and „married for 30 years“«

meaning:

exes : there was something back then. like there actually *was* something, not an almost. or maybe an almost? there are a lot of almosts. that’s why i’m saying „something between“

old friends : think canon. book canon. old friend.

former lovers : kinda like exes but the implications are less bitterness and more heartache because they were torn apart instead of willfully leaving.

married for 30 years : that dynamic, like they’ve known each other for a lifetime. it feels so natural, despite having been apart for 30 years.

(imagine; (not necessarily justus/nichtraucher, maybe reddie, but i’m talking about justraucher hier.

when they can finally get married at like 50 or 60; „well technically you have to add the years we were apart! we gave each other a promise, we even have rings.“ (oh my god what if they used the VERY SAME RINGS if they got married) (i’m not too much of a marriage fic fan but i could make an exception if this is good))

#here you go #this is unfiltered #i edited the typos but i don’t wanna touch up the brain barf #i think it’s best if it stays like this #dfk #das fliegende klassenzimmer #justus/nichtraucher #dr johann bökh #dr robert uthofft #der nichtraucher #bro idk what to tag #mine #justus & der nichtraucher #<- that is my ship tag despite the misleading '&' #this is very unpolished #like i said. brain barf while i was sleep deprived. #i might come back and polish it and actually write something out of this #no promises though #ive never done that before

[mmarthajones]

Ok at the demand of literally no one, I am so obsessed by the idea of a period drama, honouring the book, drawn out character development and trauma heavy adaptation that I’m going to drop my ideas here. Not at full outline level, bc however stupid I’d love to actually do this one day, but here’s why you should trust me with Dracula(under a read more cut bc this IS going to get long)

I’m going to clarify before I start that I’m almost definitely going to forget stuff but if I were to do this I would have the biggest corkboard with tons of info and ideas on. This is just a flavour of the corkboard.

First thing, format: TV over movie at almost all costs. It’s an epistolary novel with bits and viewpoints and details and far FAR too much stuff for a movie. As many parts as the studio will give you. While adapting it into a movie could be done, it’s just so much better fitting for TV to me.

Genre: see, everyone gets that its gothic horror, that part isn’t in question. The thing most adaptations don’t get straight in their heads is which genres they’re going to borrow other tropes and stuff from. The book is actually a mishmash designed to compliment the horror, and while I’ve nothing against horror movies, a TV series needs more to fill it out. To me, one of the big reasons everyone hates on the Coppola flick is that it draws more from the tropes of other horror movies, but Dracula is *psychological*. This will become important later. 

So what genres am I borrowing from? Period drama. Sure, seemingly the total opposite, but actually that’s the point. If you borrow from the calmness and romanticism of period drama in the quiet moments, it makes the horror all the more horrifying. USE the audience expectations. Romance, bc Jonathan/Mina relationship goals. 

Character development: Oh, so much to say. Jonathan fully established as female gaze hero to start off with. This is not played off as boring. A character arc filled with trauma, at least one solid breakdown, and a portrayal focussed around a solid core of emotional strength. You must be incredibly attached to harmless little Jonathan, so that his trauma harrows you to the core. And then I shall make him go after Dracula with his big knife. You’re welcome.

Mina: Strong female character, but not StrongTM. Strong, supporting literally everyone, putting the bravest face on it. This will only make it more terrible when we see her break down in private. Somehow has Eldest Daughter syndrome without siblings.

Dracula: Oh, Dracula. Yes, I will make you scary again. To my mind, the sexyman Dracula actually undermines the thing that should terrify you most. You don’t go to Dracula because you are drawn in by his charisma. His magnetism is unfair, unwilling, and a complete violation of all that makes you you. He will delight in your struggles, draw it out, undermine you psychologically, all with a smile on his face. This is an ancient master of war tactics, battlefield veteran Dracula. And anything that is played for laughs, any stupid failure, is just serving to underline how unfair the whole thing is, how much he can get away with. A relentless, creeping evil. 

Everyone else: look, I could go on for ages about every single individual person here. Safe to say, I would be trawling the tags for every character essay and taking it all into careful consideration.

Castle Dracula: Yes, I’m making a distinct point of this because it struck me today. This setting will not be played for laughs either. Creaky doors and dramatic organs begone. It will be a place where you should watch every shadow, because it being the Count’s home means something. Seat of his power. It should feel like an extension of him.

Hope: Yes, I’m making its own thing. Jonathan/Mina should be the cutest thing. The quiet moments of any heroic viewpoint should be full of warmth, handholding, hearthsides. A general sense that people are the heart of this, and that with them there, you might be able to get through it. The hope is what makes the horror. Hope, and the lack of it. When Mina gets burnt, it should ripple effect through everyone. Jonathan’s desperation at the return of the Count and the idea of going back to the Castle should be visceral. Just like the book, this series would be made by the quiet moments. 

Ok this got very long and I’ve seen so many great analyses in the Dracula Daily tag that I’m not talking about but wow guys look at this and tell me you don’t want the heart-driven Dracula series. 

(This is also where I tell you this is my first time through the book and I’ve never properly watched any specific Dracula adaptations. But I’ve Heard, yknow?)

#dracula daily #dracula

[tobeornottotc]

The difference between a book and tv adaptation (KinnPorsche the series).

Honestly when it comes a book to tv show adaptation (see my experience with the series Not Me for example), I’m always on edge. With KP, I didn’t first know a lot about the series, like I knew certain spoilers as always, like the final plot twist, the VegasPete ship, and the snippets with Tawan but I didn’t know anything else, however because of that, I came in judging the book and having low expectations from what I heard. But here’s my take on it:

It’s interesting how those opinions have changed now knowing the whole storyline for season 1. I think what I will say is that people really judge the book writers harshly, like the book may be extremely problematic with the actions of the characters but they do apologize, and discuss consent and other issues, it’s not just romanticized or seen as a good thing, I don’t know where we got off thinking that it was. I’m not saying that it makes it right the way some characters acted but this is a book about the mafia, about cruel people forced to be immoral against their wishes, about the pain and suffering they cause on others and also encounter as they fall in love. It’s not really meant to be a woke piece on what representation should be like. So, the characters are slightly more unhinged in the book but actually, after processing them they are still 3 dimensional, they all have things about them that are very hidden in subtext and the writers fail to fully flesh out like they are doing on the show with the team, but it is there.

A misguided translation

Like yes, Kinn is so much more crueller, and bratty in the novel, he’s more possessive and toxic but he does apologize like show Kinn, and he does show moments of remorse and realizations that his actions aren’t right, same as Vegas who is a bit more humanized so far in the book (like he actually did have feelings for Porsche, he was the one who wouldn’t kiss anyone until he met Pete) and the show has given some of Vegas’s special characteristics to Kinn instead to humanize him. However, I think it’s because like in the book with how there were parallels in the subtext between these two couples, they’re doing the same in the show… So it’s interesting, because on the surface, people complain about how badly written the novel is and how it makes no sense, but I think people should realize that it’s because of translation issues, like I didn’t enjoy Love sick the novel because I read a bad translation but when I watched those moments translated properly into the show I understood what I couldn’t see or get with the lack of actual accurate English translations for how the writing Is meant to be.  This is for every BL so far, I’ve had to read, translate, and understand. I think the lack of layers people fail to see in the novel is because of that, because the novel is dramatic and there’s a lot going on at once and sometimes we’re too focused only on the surface refusing to see how the characters are affected or what it means for them towards the end, we don’t process it at the end or retrace our steps to see where it was hinted at or foreshadowed, why they do what they do even though it makes sense for most of them.

Take for example, people saying the structure of the novel towards the end felt out of nowhere and shoehorned the plot twist, when in reality no, the novel was planning that from the beginning, every single moment (the show does a better job in intersecting this with the chess metaphor, and the introduction of the idea of a mole and using Vegas as a fodder to explain the next arcs of the show), every single moment is planned, the real reasons for the  kidnapping is not a surprise later when you have to piece it together, there’s lots of things that are mentioned and then forgotten about and that’s on purpose. And that’s then slammed on you, leaving you surprised and shocked when you get to the moments those truths are unveiled. The reason why KP is not taken seriously for its actual plot structure is because people only focus on the label of it as BL and judge it on that instead. So, they get distracted by the love story on the surface that acts as a shield to the rest of the plot line, it’s loud, dramatic, toxic and is interlinked to most of the plot, so it’s hard to not pull away from it and see what else is pulling these characters along, or what is causing these events.

Red herrings and intentional distractions

The other thing both in the show and the novel (that I think the directors picked on because while they are changing certain moments in the novel, they’re not changing the structure), is that there are red herrings littered all over the place, Vegas is a massive red herring for the ending, he is the one we assume in the show is the one running everything with the insidious plan. An example where the audience is led to believe in this is in episode; 7 it’s clear he manipulated and is part of the group of people rebelling against the major family, but he’s calculating and frames Don instead, yes that’s Vegas, that’s something he and his family would do, but he’s not the big villain, some people will get distracted by Tawan (again the romance arc of the story) and say he’s the villain, but the show only uses him again as a tool to reveal the next part of the mystery of the chess game, despite us being too distracted to see how, everything is on purpose  and once you get through the book, the moments that plot twist arc starts to happen you start to realize why certain characters have been doing what they’ve been doing, what’s actually happened in the past to get the characters where they are and what is going to be their future. Again, the show does this by making a metaphorical analogy of the chess game, showing you that each episode, or plot is a chess move, getting closer and closer to leaving the King on both sides being exposed and in danger, everyone is being controlled, the good people (the knights), the mysterious pawns and even the ones on the other side. It’s all strategized and structured, so the writers deserve credit for that because they did have their own themes that were difficult to notice because of being distracted by the surface actions but also with the show will make more sense because we can see visual imagery, and metaphors, and mise-en scenes where the meta isn’t hidden.  I think the show is doing a great job so far, but the writers in my opinion made it easier for them to do so.

Enhancing a story

I think KP is one of the best books to adaptations because every single actor embodies their roles perfectly. It’s like they were a bit destined to play each character they were given. They all have the best attributes needed to love the characters in the novel. For example, Mile is great at giving the softness that Kinn lacks in written word despite the fact that again it is there in the book, Apo has the lovable childishness, and sensitivity that Porsche shows in the book but normally really comes off more bratty and ignorant and hurtful, and also Porsche isn’t problematic with the way he thinks about his queerness in the show either, which is a great change, and wonderful for representation. Bible has the charisma needed to seduce and compel us like Vegas, but he also gives more to him than just this cold psychopathic person, he makes you think and feel like there’s more to Vegas which is what is needed, you can tell from his acting that he is in a mask constantly and we haven’t yet seen the real version of the character he’s meant to play. This is the same as Build, who is filled with duality, smiling so bright and gives off this cute babyish vibe at times making you want to protect Pete but also the hardness and charisma of one who is serious, accepting, and dark when it comes to the violence and pain he encounters, there’s a dominance shown in moments when he loses that smile and then a softness returned.  Build is able to perfect those two spectrums perfectly. I think this is what makes it so easy to immerse ourselves with the story of KP in the show more than the novels, in the novels the characters are given the right traits just lacking the written power and description to make them leap of that way. But with KP, it’s also the way that the directors are all part of this that makes this show stand out as a great adaptation.

First is the effort and budget given to showcase the extremities of the novel, the budget helps us see how much wealth and power consumes the characters and the show ensures we see that, we see the symbolic objects, we see the symbolic colors, we see the symbolic locations and we feel all of it, because of the extra effort and quality put to show that. Next is the fact that the show combines four directors including a screen writer along with the original writers (the ones that know the story structure and created it), all with different strengths and skills. We have Pond, who is the one determined to showcase the intimacy that the book lacked due to again it’s written state, he’s the controller of the show’s plot, he’s the one who steers and alters and changes what he felt needed to be altered but he still sticks to the structure and guidelines given to him by the OG writers. He’s skilled at understanding what makes the audience tick with Y series, how to improve and emphasize the romance that the book haphazardly ruined at times when adding it to the structure and flow. He does this with Pepsi, the codirector of many known Y favorites, because she creates depth and meta in everything she does, from Bad buddy, and fleshing out the novel to give it even more depth in a different way, to Dark Blue Kiss which she also did the same for the love stories there, to Greater Man Academy, she has been the forefront of taking flawed human characters and giving them their voice, while working and ensuring their arcs are completed in a way that makes sense. She has a harder job this time around to humanize two characters story and love, that seem twisted, immoral, and unforgiving, and that’s Vegas and Pete but seeing how she always positively represents queer topics and themes, she would be more determined in showing us the challenges of these 2 while also humanizing them, however I also don’t think she will censor them as per the authors requests. Additionally, we have Khom, the director known for the award-winning directing of action scenes, he was added into this project for his skills need to showcase the darker and more experienced side of mafia world ensuring the action scenes do look high quality and still flow well with the structure of the script and story.  And then we have Nhing who is the cinematographer of the previous known works such as I told sunset about you, incredible meta director who showcases the themes normally left in the subtext with the mise-en-scene and filmography, she’s the reason for the color theories, the symbols, the lighting, and due to that quality, KP even gets even more enhanced as a perfect visual image for us viewers than just reading only the plot of the book.

This is why the show is better in that case than what the outlines of the novels provide, because it is pleasing and its edits are thoughtful and effective for amazing storytelling and adds more depth and feelings to the overall structure of the plot, there’s more empathy felt for the characters, more pain and worry and unease shaped into some of their actions to act even more as red herrings and distract the audience, and the pacing fits to ensure that the action, romance, and then overall the mafia darkness that surrounds each threads are given energy, effort and excellence.  The directors have taken this story further than most do, with their original source. Which is what makes this whole experience special.

While again, the book version of KP isn’t as bad as people say it is, and I give it to the authors for their overall ability to plan and structure it well, I think it also will make us feel a lot of things and understand the weight of the theme of the series which is the corruption and entrapment of this mafia world and the choices and decisions caused by generational trauma that shapes each of the characters arcs and involvement.  I also think there are a few shocking surprises, and deaths coming too, and I think that’s essentially what we expected from KP?  The show very much does however enrich everything and make it worthwhile, there’s so much effort spilled into every episode, and it makes me emotional to see it for this genre, and from where we used to be with this. So, to answer your question I would say yes, the show is better than the book but I’m grateful that the original source of this made gateways and made it easy for a story like this to be created. I’m also grateful to the team who worked to ensure that better representation and eliminating flaws of normal stereotyped Y series contained in the novel, in order to avoid harming the community, because now we have both a really unique story, and also one that can be good for queer media and storytelling worldwide. I think that’s amazing.

Thanks for the question! You made me create a blog from this ha-ha, but I hope you enjoyed reading it. Still reeling from episode 7 and there’s so much, so much to say, breakdown, and analyze, if you have any other questions feel free to come over.  

@queenneferadenile @julie-oc​ here you go :) 

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #asks #reviews #bl series #thai bl #kinn x porsche #kinnporsche meta #bl drama