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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years

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But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 18: Summers In Florence] [Series Finale]

A/N: If it doesn’t end with a wedding, is it even my fic??! 😂 For those who somehow haven’t yet read Baby You Were My Picket Fence (my most popular series), you might be a tiny bit confused during this chapter. Just roll with it. 😉 Also, COVID-19 doesn’t exist. What a wonderful world. Thank you so much for sticking with me and BYCNL. I love you all. 💜

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat @hardyshoe @bramblesforbreakfast @sevenseasofcats @tensecondvacation @queen-crue @jennyggggrrr @madeinheavxn @whatgoeson-itslate @brianssixpence @simonedk @herewegoagainniall @anotheronewritesthedust1 @pomjompish @writerxinthedark @culturefiendtrashqueen @allauraleigh @deakydeacy @bluutac @johndeaconshands @nyxaura

It’s May 25th, 1984, and Roger and John are in Perth, Australia to promote Queen’s eleventh album, The Works.

Interviewer, daytime television host Ronald Inglewood: “Good morning and welcome to our viewers across Australia! We’re sitting down this morning with Roger Taylor and John Deacon, respectively the drummer and bassist of Queen, who are here to talk about the band’s brand new album called—quite self-assuredly, if I may say so, gentlemen—The Works. Hello to you both.”

Roger: “Good morning, Ron!”

John: “Hello.”

Interviewer: “And this latest album has been rather well-received so far, is that right?”

Roger: “It has, yes, and we’re enormously proud of it.”

Interviewer: “Now, The Works is a very different album than Hot Space, Queen’s sort of notorious foray into disco...do you think the back-to-basics, classic rock and roll feel of The Works has been the driving force behind its success?”

Roger: “Well, you know...I think experimentation is very important. We’ve always been an experimental band. The single Bohemian Rhapsody was hugely experimental, and that’s why it was such a phenomenon. We were experimenting long before A Night At The Opera, and I suspect we’ll keep on trying new things until we run out of ideas, whenever that is! I didn’t love every song on Hot Space, I’ll be completely transparent about that, but I certainly don’t think the album was a failure or a waste of time. It was an experiment. And The Works is an experiment as well, just one that runs in a different vein, I suppose.”

John: “Some people did actually enjoy Hot Space.”

Roger: “I think I know one or two.”

Interviewer: “Of course, it did have its bright spots. Under Pressure remains one of Queen’s biggest hits, doesn’t it?”

Roger: “Yes, and John wrote the bassline for that one!”

Interviewer: “Really?!”

John: “And Roger has his own hit on The Works, at last. We’re all very happy for him.”

Roger: “Only took ten years.”

John: “Fourteen, actually.”

Roger: “I’m going to murder you as soon as we get backstage.”

John: “You’re welcome to try.”

Interviewer: “Now this hit of yours, Roger, is Radio Ga Ga. And I’m sure we’ve all seen the famous music video, the hovercraft, the futurism, the clapping...we’ve all seen it, right? Where on earth did you get the idea for that song?”

Roger: “It actually originated from something I heard my daughter Violet say.”

Interviewer: “Fascinating! And you’ve just welcomed another one recently, haven’t you?”

Roger: “Yes, last month, in fact. A little girl named Nora. “

Interviewer: “Congratulations!”

Roger: “Thanks so much, Ron. Our eldest, Violet, turned two in January, and the idea for Radio Ga Ga came about when she was first learning to talk. She would always stumble around—you know how babies do—clapping her hands and squealing the most nonsensical things, and one day she started trying out ‘radio’ and then adding random words to it, ‘radio goo goo,’ ‘radio mama,’ ‘radio dada,’ etcetera. Well ‘radio ga ga’ got stuck in my head and I started sort of lamenting how television had begun to eclipse the radio as a medium for music and entertainment. We were on vacation in California at the time, and I locked myself in a hotel room with a keyboard and a drum machine to get it written. I initially thought it might end up on one of my solo albums, but then John heard it and wrote a bassline, and Freddie really thought it could be a hit and pushed to have it on The Works...and here we are today!”

Interviewer: “That Freddie Mercury has awfully good instincts about these things, doesn’t he?”

John: “Oh, he’s a genius, no doubt about that.”

Interviewer: “And John, I understand you wrote the other single released from The Works, I Want To Break Free. Any deep philosophical messaging in that one?”

John: “Well I suppose we’ve all been in situations that feel...rather constraining or hopeless. And then things that bring us back to life again. So this song is about a character going through that process and coming out on the other side.”

Interviewer: “Indeed.”

John: “But we wanted to keep things amusing and lighthearted in the music video, hence the dressing in drag bit. And to our absolute horror, Roger was very alluring as a schoolgirl.”

Roger: “It’s true. I have irresistible legs. I was born to wear miniskirts.”

Interviewer: “Ah, this is the music video that is beloved in Europe and here in Australia but has stirred up so much controversy over in the States. Has the hullabaloo dampened your enthusiasm for the song, or even the entire album, somewhat?”

Roger: “We’re not bothered much at all, to be honest with you. It’s like I said, Queen is always going to have fun and experiment and take creative risks. And if people don’t like it, then they’re welcome to not listen.”

Interviewer: “Yes, yes, I suppose you could say that.”

Roger: “Americans, you know, they can just be so bloody puritanical. It absolutely takes all the enjoyment out of life. All the humor. Americans these days can be very difficult for us to connect with.”

John: “Well, not all of them.”

Roger: “No, of course, not all of them.”

John: “But we’ll start touring at the end of August, and we’ll be spending several months in the States, so they have time to come around to us. We’re all really looking forward to being on the road again.”

Interviewer: “It has certainly been and will continue to be a very eventful year for Queen. And for the four of you personally. A new baby for Roger, and you’ve just gotten married, haven’t you John?”

John: “I did, yes. And Roger was in attendance! No miniskirt that day, though. Sadly.”

Roger: “The whole band was there. And my girlfriend and children too. It was quite a party.”

Interviewer: “That’s wonderful to hear, considering the...the...well, not to bring up tabloid gossip, but the complexity of the situation. It was a destination wedding, wasn’t it?”

John: “Yes, we were married in the Basilica di Santa Croce in Florence, Italy. It’s breathtaking, the largest Franciscan church in the world, built in the 1300s. And we filled it with friends and family and live music and flowers and food...all the trappings. Took about a million photos. Celebrated until dawn.”

Roger: “It was a very sentimental occasion. Everyone really enjoyed it. John cried.”

John: “I did, it’s true.”

Roger: “He promised he wouldn’t and then he did.”

John: “Well, you don’t have to bring it up all the time!”

Roger: “It was touching, really.”

Interviewer: “It must have been a magical time. You’re positively radiant, John! Marvelous. And some much-needed good news, I imagine. I understand you’ve recently gone through an exceptionally antagonistic and protracted divorce.”

John: “Well...uh...I suppose that’s...uh...”

Roger: “How about we ask you the same thing? How was your divorce, Ron?”

Interviewer: “What?”

Roger: “You’re on your third marriage, is that right? And I think I heard that the latest Mrs. Inglewood is very young indeed, almost thirty years your junior. How did your former wife take that news? How did your adult children? How was your goddamn divorce?”

Interviewer: “That’s a rude question.”

Roger: “Yes, you’re right, it’s an extremely rude question. So you shouldn’t fucking ask it.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s December 25th, 1986, and the children are tearing open presents under a fifteen-foot-tall Christmas tree in the living room of Garden Lodge.

Freddie and Jim Hutton are serving cookies and milk and clapping their hands as they tower over tiny shoulders, cheering the kids on as they litter the floor with wrapping paper and bows and scatter their new toys everywhere: Care Bears, Magic 8 Balls, My Little Ponies, Mr. Potato Heads, Barbies, Etch-A-Sketches, Transformers, miniature Lukes and Leias and Chewbaccas, View-Masters with scenes of oceans and deserts and forests and stars. With so many fragmented families, there was only one logical approach to handling major holidays: convincing everyone to celebrate together on neutral ground.

Mary and Veronica are chatting by the roaring fireplace. Phoebe, Joe Fanelli, John, and Roger are embroiled in a brutally competitive Scrabble game; Dominique, smirking stealthily, leans over Roger to read his tiles and periodically whispers ideas to him. Brian and Anita are circling the flock of giggling children—Laszlo, Anna, Teddy, Evelyn, Lena, Antoni, Violet, and Nora—and snapping photos with your Canon between long, yearning gazes at one another, wearing matching Christmas sweaters that are a deep, passionate crimson. Chrissie’s husband Denny is admiring Freddie’s extensive vinyl record collection as he sips a hot chocolate and compulsively strokes his green-and-red striped tie. Tiffany the cat rolls around between his feet and occasionally hisses or gnaws on an ankle, which Denny takes in stride, as he does most things.

Meanwhile, you and Chrissie are camped out by the wet bar, drinking mulled wine and nibbling on cookies shaped like snowmen and reindeer. You give Veronica a wide berth with the children anytime you’re in the same space; she hates you, and she’ll probably always hate you, but she loves her children too much to poison them with that reality. Their happiness is her whole life, her purpose. And that’s the only thing that finally convinced her to come to the bargaining table.

“She seems...nice,” you tell Chrissie, gesturing to where Anita is crouching to wrestle a Yoda piggy bank away from Antoni before he can lob Teddy on the head with it. To John’s children, Veronica is “mum” and you’re the distinctly more American “mama”; and no one ever really taught them that, they just started doing it somewhere along the way.

Chrissie rolls her eyes and shifts Stevie to her other hip. For two and a half years after leaving Brian, Chrissie made it her mission to date at least one man from every country in Europe. She managed to cross off Ireland, France, Germany, Austria, Italy, Sweden, Switzerland, Portugal, Poland, and Greece before meeting professional archer Dennis Clarke at the 1984 Olympics in Los Angeles. They got engaged at Christmas, eloped on New Year’s Day, and had a daughter that Chrissie named after Stevie Nicks nine months later. Stevie Clarke has adorably chubby baby legs, wide blue eyes, and blonde hair without a single spiraled ringlet.

“My therapist said I needed to cultivate a rapport with Brian for the good of the kids,” Chrissie says. “You know. Be the bigger person. Get amnesia and forget about how he made my life a living hell. Act like I don’t want to freaking decapitate him. So I, trying to be nice, trying to rise above and make polite small talk with my nauseating ex-husband, made a comment about how much I liked EastEnders. So he starts watching EastEnders. Then he begins to fancy one of the actresses. Then he meets her at a movie premier in Beverly Hills and invites her to the concert at Wembley. Then he ends up in love with the woman. What the fuck. You couldn’t write this shit.”

“Love is a roulette wheel,” you agree.

Chrissie scoffs sardonically. “Yeah. Russian roulette, maybe.”

After his marriage fell apart, Brian bounced between New Orleans and London, liberated bliss and aimless, disgraced, black depression. Whoever Peaches is as a person, she couldn’t tame Brian’s demons. You worried about him almost constantly until he started seeing Anita. She’s cheerful and magnetic and persistently hopeful in a way that reminds you of Roger. She’s good for Brian. She’s good for all of you. Well...Chrissie is still coming around to the idea.

“I do like that she wasn’t fucking my husband behind my back,” Chrissie muses. “So that’s something.”

“And she’s good with the kids.”

“True...”

“And her hair matches Brian’s.”

Chrissie laughs. Her sparkling ornament earrings jangle, and Stevie paws for them with minuscule, uncoordinated, wrinkly hands. “Okay. You win. I don’t despise her.”

“That’s the Christmas spirit.” You knock back the rest of your mulled wine. “I’m gonna go search the refrigerator for cheese cubes, you want anything?”

“Yeah, a Valium.”

“Slavic Jesus would be horrified. And on his birthday!”

Chrissie grins. “Surely drugs would be the least of our sins.”

Freddie’s sunshine-yellow refrigerator is enormous and a labyrinth of shelves and crevices without a single tray of cheese cubes in sight. You sift through jars of olives, bottles of champagne, a glazed ham waiting to be put in the oven, a sack of yams, eggnog, rising bread dough, and numerous pies—apple and cherry and lemon chiffon, naturally—swathed in aluminum foil.

“Damn,” you mutter, and then you try a mysterious drawer beneath the double doors of the refrigerator. Lo and behold, it contains a sprawling tray of cheeses. “Yaaaaassssss.” You lift the tray out, set it on the kitchen counter, and peel back the clear, clinging saran wrap. As you spear cheese cubes with a decorative toothpick—the handle is a little plastic Christmas tree—and plop them onto an appetizer plate, you hear the click of heels on the hardwood floor behind you.

You glance back. “Hi, Dom. Can I offer you any of Fred’s extremely expensive and exotic cheeses?”

“Sure,” she replies in that effortlessly elegant French accent; but that’s not why she’s here. She’s wringing her delicate hands, which are bronzed from her last holiday to Ibiza and ringless. Dom divorced the husband she had back in France—or maybe he divorced her, who knows, that’s not your business, although Roger would tell you if you ever asked—and she and Roger signed papers for the good of their daughters. But being Roger Taylor’s wife is not always such an easy thing.

“He’s getting bad again, isn’t he?” you ask softly.

Dominique nods; but you already knew.

Roger was perfect for years after they had Violet: attentive, content, startlingly domestic. He rarely popped pills. He went to physical therapy. He quit smoking six months ago at Dominique’s insistence, around the same time John quit for you. But since the Magic Tour ended in August—and with no new tour in sight, considering Freddie’s seeming reticence about scheduling another—he’s started to drink more, stay home less, disappear at night citing dinners or parties or recording sessions that Dom isn’t invited to. He’s edgy and irritable. He’s rarely home when John calls. And you can see all those immortal shadows of imperfection creeping back into him like storm clouds, like smoke.

“I’m going to tell you something,” you say. “It’s very similar to what somebody else once told me. I wasn’t ready to understand it yet, to really let myself feel it, to believe it, but you might be able to.”

She watches you with those vast oil-well eyes, biting her lower lip, waiting.

“Roger is wildfire. He’s bright, yes, he’s warm, but he’s reckless and insatiable too. He always has been. He always will be. And that has nothing at all to do with you. It’s not your fault. He’s wonderful, of course, and you already know that; he dazzles people, he makes life so exhilaratingly beautiful that you forget what it felt like without him. But he’ll always disappoint you. He’ll relapse, he’ll cheat, he’ll come home late, he won’t come home at all. And he’ll hurt you. He’ll do it as many times as you’ll let him. But here’s the thing other people won’t tell you.” You smile at her, with empathy, with sorrow, with hope. “It might still be worth it.”

Dominique blinks, not understanding.

“It might be enough for you to only ever have part of him, because that part is so incredibly brilliant. It was almost enough for me. And I would never blame you for leaving Roger. But I wouldn’t blame you for staying either.”

And then you embrace her, and she latches onto you, her long manicured nails nipping through your sweater, her Coco Chanel perfume a plume that fills the kitchen. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. You hold her until she pulls away, swiping at her tearing eyes with slim fragile fingers, sniffling, looking away to hide her heartbreak behind her shock of glossy bangs.

“Here.” You pile an appetizer plate high with cheese cubes and shove it into her hands.

Stunned, she giggles. “All my woes have vanished.”

“That’s exactly how stolen cheese works,” And then, seriously: “Don’t be sad on Christmas, Dom. There’s plenty of time for that later. And I’ll do everything I can to help him.”

“That’s why you’ll never leave the band, isn’t it? You can’t leave Roger alone. You can’t let him destroy himself.”

“I owe him,” you say simply. “Without him I never would have followed Queen to London. I never would have found this family. I never would have married John. Roger took things from me, yes, of course he did. He took until I felt empty. But he also gave me the world.”

She nods slowly, thoughtfully.

“Please, Dom. Go enjoy yourself.”

“Alright. Joyeux Noël.” She gives you a parting wave and slips back out into the living room, where Freddie is now playing the grand piano and signing Thank God It’s Christmas. Roger is assisting in an increasingly hoarse falsetto.

A moment after Dominique leaves, John strolls into the kitchen, humming merrily. He stops dead when he sees your somber face, your shining eyes. “Who do I have to fuck up?”

You chuckle and shake your head. “No one. I just heard something sad.”

“Not about you, I hope.”

“No, I don’t have many sad stories anymore.”

“Yeah, me either.”

He reaches out to take your hand. A sapphire glints on your left ring finger, and it means everything.

“You sure you don’t need me to torment anyone for you? I could get drunk and plow my Benz into their house. Or write a scathing diss track about them. Was it Brian? Please tell me it was Brian.”

You laugh and twirl a lock of his fluffy hair. “That won’t be necessary.”

“In that case, you’re needed in the living room immediately,” John says, smiling. “Antoni climbed halfway up the Christmas tree and says he won’t come down for anyone except his mama.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s November 3rd, 1999, and Roger, John, and Brian are promoting Queen’s upcoming compilation album, Greatest Hits III.

Interviewer, daytime television host Brad Chenoweth: “Today we have a very special treat for our viewers. Here with us in our London studio are the men of Queen: guitarist Brian May, drummer Roger Taylor, and bassist John Deacon. Good morning, and thank you all so much for being here.”

Brian: “It’s our pleasure.”

Roger: “I do screams as well as drums, Brad.”

Interviewer: “Hahaha, yes, of course. Now Queen has had an extremely busy year, and this Greatest Hits album has a few new selections on it, right? Take us through that process.”

Brian: “It does have a few new tracks, that’s correct. You know, ever since Freddie...ever since we lost Freddie Mercury, I mean, you know, it’s impossible to fill a space like the one that he left in the world.”

Roger: “Yes, yes.”

Brian: “But as difficult as it was, after finally finishing Made In Heaven in 1995 and getting it just right, feeling as if we had really done Freddie justice...we were left with this distressing feeling of ‘what’s next?’ What are the three of us supposed to do with ourselves? Split up and never work together again? Retire to the seashore? Open up some corner store to putter around in until we die?”

Roger: “A clog shop, perhaps.”

Interviewer: “You were thinking, ‘well hell, we’ve got plenty of talent ourselves!’”

Roger: “Well, talent, yes, but also energy. Drive. We’ve been working at being one of the best bands in the world for almost thirty years now, Brad. I wouldn’t even know how to begin to stop.”

Brian: “None of us wanted to stop, we came to that realization. And so we’ve done a tremendous amount of benefit concerts and recording sessions with some of the best artists of our time, and I think people who listen to this album are really going to appreciate that. We’ve got a live version of Somebody to Love with George Michael, and The Show Must Go On with Elton John, he’s just lovely to work with...oh and a rap version of Another One Bites The Dust with Wyclef Jean, which John was not exactly a fan of. But we all have to learn to give and take, don’t we?”

Interviewer: “Absolutely, and I’m really looking forward to getting my hands on a copy of this record. Is there any chance Queen might settle on a permanent new front man one day?”

Roger: “If we can ever find somebody John likes enough!”

Interviewer: “But, truthfully...none of you wanted to quit after Freddie passed away? It was a unanimous decision to keep with it?”

Roger: “Essentially, yes. I mean I think it was an all or nothing deal, wasn’t it? If one of us left then that would throw the whole thing off. I was always adamant from very early on in the band’s lifetime that I wouldn’t be interested in continuing without John. And I couldn’t imagine him and Brian being left alone together, my god, there’d be literal bloodshed, someone’s throat would be cut within the hour, believe me.”

John: “We might have lasted a day or two. But yes, it was more or less unanimous.”

Interviewer: “Now you’ve always been known as the quiet, domestic one, John. You weren’t tempted by the thought of retirement? Not even for a moment?”

John: “Well...I think it depends on the circumstances, really. I like working, and I like touring and traveling a good part of the year. But I imagine I’d get very homesick if I was alone on the road. Fortunately, that’s not the case. So the thought of retirement didn’t appeal to me nearly as much as it might have otherwise.”

Interviewer: “That’s right, I understand that your wife has been Queen’s touring nurse for...how long now? Twenty years?”

John: “Since 1974, so that’s twenty-five years.”

Roger: “Wow. It’s been that long?!”

Brian: “Feels like yesterday, doesn’t it?”

Interviewer: “How lucky for you, John. And look, you’re beaming!”

Roger: “Get it together, Deaks.”

John: “I’m an astronomically lucky man. It’s like having home with you anywhere in the world.”

Roger: “She’s good for curing hangovers as well, so that’s useful. And she knits everyone hats.”

Interviewer: “And you’ve got children, haven’t you John?’

John: “Four from my first marriage, yes. They’re all adults now so they come to visit us quite often, especially when we’re travelling. It worked out beautifully really, because they’re very close to their mother, of course, but my wife and I got together when they were all still fairly young, and so she’s always been there for them as they’ve grown up. My youngest especially was a rather...how would you say it diplomatically? A spirited child. But he warmed to her right away.”

Brian: “All the children are still friendly with each other as well, mine and Roger’s and John’s.”

Interviewer: “One big happy family, huh?”

Roger: “There are still a good amount of screaming matches between us dads, to be completely forthcoming.”

John: “You have to keep things interesting.”

Roger: “Exactly!”

Interviewer: “Yes, one can sense that there are still plenty of egos in this room, even after all these years! Tell me, Queen is nearly three decades old now, a worldwide phenomenon, the second-bestselling artist in the UK of all time behind the Beatles...how have you stayed together for so long when most bands last only a fraction of Queen’s lifespan?”

John: “Well I think we’ve all, you know, for the good of the band we’ve all had to grow towards each other to bridge the disagreements and keep peace. For example, I’ve had to learn to be more communicative, more open to collaboration and change. I can be someone who’s very comfortable being in the background. But then I’m resentful if people don’t see my point of view, even if I haven’t properly expressed it. So I have certainly had to work on that quite a lot.”

Brian: “Yes, John, I think that’s very true. Personally, I’ve had to learn to not get lost in the details so much. I have a bad habit of getting so fixated on something that I cause a massive row over a vanishingly small aspect of a song that no one else will ever notice. It’s just not worth the strife. So I’ve really tried to avoid that. Although, I’ll admit it, I still occasionally cause my share of drama.”

John: “Oh, sure.”

Roger: “And I’ve had to work on being less...”

John: “Annoying?”

Brian: “Combative?”

Roger: “Fiery.”

John: “That’s one word for it.”

Interviewer: “Was there ever a time when Queen’s existence was in serious jeopardy? And if so, how did you pull through?”

Brian: “Well, to be perfectly honest, as a band we went through quite a difficult time in the early 80s. And then we did again in the early 90s. And on both occasions there was a real worry that Queen might be over and we would all go our separate ways. But what kept us together through that...and feel free to disagree, Rog, John, if you have a different perspective...but what I feel kept us together was this profound sense of family. Queen predates all of our marriages, our children, our successes in the music industry or otherwise. It has become a constant place of belonging in the midst of professional and personal turmoil. And now our partners and children have been integrated into that network as well, so even if an individual relationship is strained or falls apart, the gravity of the band keeps us all in a perpetual symbiotic orbit. And I don’t see that ever ending.”

John: “Yes, well, I suppose that about sums it up, doesn’t it?”

Roger: “Bleeding christ, Brian. ‘Perpetual symbiotic orbit.’ Just say we’re friends, you pretentious twit.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s August 19th, 2020, and John’s 69th birthday party is winding down as the sun dips lazily into the rust-colored western horizon.

You’re standing on the cobblestones in the garden behind the Surrey house. You had always thought it was too extravagant, too massive; it wasn’t until Roger sold it to you and John in the spring of 1982 that you realized it was the perfect size after all. Six bedrooms meant one for each of the children, one for you and John—the one with the blue-grey wallpaper and nautical decorations, to be exact—and the last for when Chrissie and Denny or Roger and Dom stay the night, which is fairly frequently. Your vacation home, where you and John spend most of the summer when Queen isn’t on tour, is a little country cottage in the sunlit Alpine hills of Florence, Italy. John designed it himself, every last detail; right down to the white picket fence grown over with ivy.

“Look what we got in the mail.” You hold up the invitation to show your husband, grinning, raising your eyebrows. “Guess we have to buy him another toaster.”

He reads the names on the shimmering cardstock patterned with jungle ferns and dinosaur footprints. Interesting choices. “Is Ben actually going through with it this time?”

“John!”

“Wasn’t he supposed to marry some Italian heiress or something?”

“Love can be complicated, Mr. Deacon,” you remind him.

When he smiles, crinkles spring up around his eyes. “Yes, I suppose it can be.”

“Ben Hardy’s having another wedding?” Chrissie calls over from where she’s shooting arrows at the archery targets set up in the backyard. Denny periodically steps in to correct the angle of her wrist or elbow. “And Queen’s invited this time?”

“Apparently,” you reply. “You could go too if you were still married to Brian.”

“Ha!” Chrissie cackles and looses an arrow. It hits damn near the bullseye. “Not worth it.”

“I’ll bring back all the scandalous gossip I can scrounge for you.”

“You better. What do the kids call it now? Spilling the tea? Spill all the tea, bitch.”

“Oh, kettles and kettles’ worth.”

“So a teapot,” John says. “Not another toaster. Maybe decorated with...” He squints at the invitation again. “What’s the theme? What do they like? Fossils? Brontosauruses?”

“Bizarre people,” Chrissie mutters.

“I’ll figure something out,” you say. “Something special. Something old.”

“John?” Brian shouts from the doorway that leads into the kitchen. Inside the refrigerator is covered with sketches and birthday cards and photographs curling and fading around the edges. “Anita and I are heading out now, can we get a hug goodbye?”

“Ugh,” John jokes. “Well, alright.” He gives you a wink as he trots off.

The Surrey house isn’t exactly roaring—John has never been one for crowds, and incidentally neither have you—but it is alive with his children and grandchildren and life-long friends. Not just his, you correct yourself. Ours.

Veronica—once Tetzlaff, then Deacon, then Tetzlaff again, and finally Kowalski—is not in attendance. You see her only at holidays and birthday celebrations for the kids and grandchildren, and even then only in passing. She is still cold towards you, resentful, extremely Catholic...although somewhat less dogmatic since her second husband Ivan, a former priest, left the Church to marry her. When the last of her children were grown, Veronica got certified to be a doula and now primarily serves unwed mothers seeking assistance from Catholic charities in London. She mentioned to Chrissie, who later told you, that something you had once done for her had inspired her to pursue it. That’s the only nice thing you’ve heard her say about you in almost forty years.

Roger wanders over to meet you, nursing a Heineken, stroking his white beard with his free hand. He and Dominique have always been off and on—including a few years in the late 80s when he moved out of their three-story Kensington townhouse and had a daughter called Adeline with some leggy, platinum blonde supermodel—but these days they’re mostly on. He and Dom had two children after their reconciliation: a son, Blaise, and a daughter named by Freddie after the Japanese word for tiger, Tora.

You gaze out into the sunset. Half of the garden is flooded with white calla lilies, a new bouquet for every February 15th since 1978.

“You’ll be sending back an RSVP in the affirmative?” Roger asks.

“Of course! Any excuse to visit the States. And I like Ben. Although he doesn’t look anything like you.”

He groans. “Those wigs, bloody hell.”

“It’s like they produced a whole movie just to have an excuse to make fun of your atrociously crunchy bleached hair.”

“And I bet you enjoyed that.”

“You deserved it.” When Freddie’s health began to fail and Queen stopped touring, you went back to school to get a degree in physical therapy. You and Roger have sessions three times a week, provided he’s on the wagon; and he usually is, nowadays. When he’s not, John’s the one to get the call from Dominique, and he hunts Roger down, convinces him to come home, works whatever quiet, soothing magic he carries around in his deep pacific blood. But right this moment, Roger is awfully quiet himself. His large, pale eyes—like clear water, like unraveling delphiniums, like the harmony that only comes when age burns away all those last entrenched talons of bitterness, of fear—skate over the calla lilies.

“Do you think things would have been different for us?” Roger asks softly. “If she had lived.”

It took you a long time to understand why Roger was in no hurry to get a divorce, to move you out of the Surrey house. They were the only ties he thought he had to anchor you to the band, to him. They were the only cards he thought he had to play to keep you in his life in any capacity. But John fixed that dilemma. He can fix just about anything, you’ve learned.

“No,” you tell Roger. “You would have worn me down eventually. You and your drinking and drugs and late nights and interminable recklessness. It might have taken longer, but we always would have ended. And John always would have been my home. She wouldn’t have kept us together. She just would have lived. And I wouldn’t have loved her for being a part of you. I would have loved her for whoever she was, whoever she grew up to be. But now I’ll never know who that would have been. I love the children I have, Roger, I do. But I still miss her, miss the person she would have been. It’s like chasing a shadow. It’s like a page of a book written in a language I can’t read. And it’s a feeling that never quite goes away.”

He smiles at you wearily, immensely sad, full of perfect understanding. “I know.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s October 10th, 2020, and the reception is held under shedding autumn leaves the color of rubies and imperial topaz and amber and yellow jade. The exuberant bride and groom weave through the crowds milling about the quaint farm, which is nestled in the hills of a small town in Northern California called Zenia. It belongs to Gwilym, apparently, and he and his flame-haired girlfriend Shiloh are shuttling tirelessly this way and that making sure everything goes according to plan. They don’t speak much to Ben or his new wife directly—there’s a stiltedness there, an uncomfortable period of readjustment that reminds you of how John and Roger were for a while after all the secrets came out—but there is undeniable kinship as well. Love can be complicated, you find yourself thinking, for the innumerable time. But that doesn’t mean it’s not real.

Making the rounds with the bride and groom is a strikingly beautiful, dark-haired boy who wears a miniature suit and a perpetual, mischievous grin. The new Mrs. Hardy almost always has her hand on his shoulder, his back, wiping cake frosting from his cheeks, ruffling his hair.

“Eli is kind of a demon kid,” Joe Mazzello warns you. “But in the best possible way.”

“Hm. I have somewhat of an affinity for demons myself.”

“Clearly,” Roger quips, sipping pink champagne. The snack table is Halloween-themed and extremely casual: Cheetos and pumpkin pie and caramel apples and dinosaur-shaped brownies. Per usual, you’re grazing through an orange paper plate stacked high with enough nibbling material to keep any undesirable small talk at bay. But strangely, in all of the times you’ve crossed his path since Bohemian Rhapsody’s filming began, you’ve never minded chatting with Joe.

“Yeah, you two were married at some point, right?” Joe asks. Then he immediately blanches. “Oh my god. That was so rude. I did not just say that. I’m so sorry. I saw it on Wikipedia. I’m gonna go drown myself in the stream now.”

“No, you’re right!” you admit in a peal of laughter. “Briefly and disastrously.”

“It wasn’t that disastrous,” Roger protests, thieving a Cheeto off your plate. He misplaced his prescription sunglasses on the flight over and is thus relatively helpless.

“Rude. Get your own. They’re over on the other end of the table.”

“I can’t see that far—!”

“Dom?” you call as she sashays over in a flowing white dress and licking a stick of orange rock candy. “Please control your husband.”

She smiles. “If I haven’t managed it yet, I don’t think there’s much hope.” She nods to Joe. “It’s so nice to see you again. Meeting you people was the only bright spot of that whole movie ordeal.”

“What, you didn’t fancy it?” Roger jests.

“At least they included you,” you tell Dom, smirking. “They ignored my existence entirely. They threw in some random woman with zero lines and called her Veronica in the credits. Whatever.”

Dom rolls her expressive umber eyes. “Yes, how flattering, I was in two scenes and one of them involved a joke about Roger cheating on me.”

“You’re a star, baby,” you say. “Deal with it.”

Dom smacks your arm playfully. She may be annoyed, but it doesn’t pain her the way it used to. She’s had decades of practice.

“The script could have been better,” Joe concedes. Then he spies John as he approaches, almost drops his caramel apple, waves frenetically. “Hi, Mr. Deacon! Hi!!”

“Wonderful job with all of this, Joe.” John shakes his hand as Joe gapes at him, starstruck. He’s always like that around John, appreciative, in awe, acutely aware of John’s legendary place in rock and roll history; and you love that someone besides you and Roger look at him that way.

“Thanks, I did it myself. Just kidding. It was 99% Gwil.”

“Well, I’ll still get you front row seats at the next Queen + Adam Lambert show.” It had taken a long time for John to find a front man he liked...a long time. He drove Roger and Brian insane. He kept saying he wanted someone who was like Freddie and yet simultaneously not trying to be Freddie, someone genuinely kind and charismatic and empathetic, an otherworldly talent, a natural performer. And then, on an unassuming spring night in 2009, they found him.

Joe claps a palm on John’s shoulder and grins, his eyes glistening. “I’m obsessed with this little old guy! Obsessed, I tell you!”

“You want to see how old he is?” Roger teases. “Lift up that hand-knit hat and see what’s underneath. I’ll give you a hint. Not much.”

“At least I made it through the 90s without requiring hair plugs,” John counters.

“It was from all the bleaching!!”

“Hi, Rog!” Ben shouts as he rushes to embrace Roger, nearly knocking him off his feet. Mrs. Hardy is still across the field, talking to Brian, Anita, Rami, and Lucy, and trying to convince Eli not to crawl into a chocolate fountain.

Ben Hardy has always been somewhat of an enigma to you, mostly because he’s nothing at all like Roger. He’s subterranean-voiced and emerald-eyed and brooding and guarded and seems so much older than his twenty-nine years, and then every once in a while someone will come along and light him up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Unlike Roger, Ben doesn’t light up for many people. He does for his son Eli, of course, and for Joe Mazzello...and for his new wife. He lights up for her like fucking wildfire.

“Ben,” you say, holding out a bag speckled with black cats. “I have our gift for you.”

“You shouldn’t have! Thank you so much.”

“You can’t thank us until you open it,” John chastises.

So Ben does. Inside is an album of hundreds of photos you’ve taken of Queen since Roger bought you your first Canon for Christmas in 1974: pictures that have never been released publicly of the boys at the Rainbow, at the Budokan, in Rome, in Boston, in Japan, in New Orleans, at Montreal, at Madison Square Garden, at Live Aid, at the Surrey house, at Montreux. Interspersed are some of John’s sketches, the only ones you can bring yourself to part with: close-ups of a long-haired Freddie drawing on messy eyeliner, Roger adjusting his sunglasses with a cigarette smoldering between his fingers, Brian tuning his Red Special.

“Oh my god,” Ben whispers.

“Most of those are very old,” you explain. “And I heard you both like old things.”

“We definitely do.” He hugs you, suddenly and fiercely and warmly; and you catch a glimpse of what it must be like to be one of the few people that he allows to truly know him, those shadowed depths to balance Joe’s uncomplicated light.

Maybe that’s it, you realize. Maybe Joe is more like Roger and Ben like John.

The wedding playlist is exclusively classic rock songs: the Doors and Aerosmith and Fleetwood Mac and Led Zeppelin and Queen. As A Kind Of Magic ends, the eerie opening notes of Hotel California ripple out over the breezy autumn fields.

“Not this fucking song!” Roger cries.

Joe turns to you, confused.

“LSD,” you inform him. “1977. I would not recommend it.”

“Noted.”

Roger continues, rubbing his forehead: “It makes me think of...freaking...weird, creepy shit...like swimming at night through cold water. But I just keep swimming and can’t get anywhere.”

“It makes me think of sharks,” you say. “Maybe they’re related.”

“Freddie always said it made him think of birds,” John sighs. “And the color blue.”

The three of you pause, nodding, remembering.

Joe frowns solemnly, peering down at his shoes. “I’m sorry I never got to meet him.”

“He would have adored you,” you say.

“Really?”

“Are you kidding?! You would have been best friends. Always looking out for people. Always plotting the next escapade. That charming chaotic energy. The utter inability to bake anything.”

“Awwww.” Joe beams, delighted. “I fucking love you guys.”

“That’s the thing,” Roger says. “People don’t realize it. We’re more of a family than a band. We find people we take a shine to like ancient treasure, snatch them up, sand away all their rough edges, show them everything the world has to offer. And if they can survive the casualties of stardom, that trial by fire, they become permanent. They grow like roots into our blood, our bones...and perhaps we claim a part of theirs as well. They become things we can’t live without.”

“And once you’re in the family,” John tells Joe with a fond, crafty smile. “You can never leave.”

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longinglook · 3 years

Text

I may or may not have spent my entire Sunday binge watching all of I told sunset about you and Gaya sa pelikula and now I have so many thoughts and feelings that I need to write about them so here we go! Under a read more (if tumblr allows me to) because it’s 2k words hehe

First of all, I knew next to nothing about both shows before starting them. I had seen a couple of gifs here and there, but really had no idea what I was in for.

I started with I told sunset about you, which has 3 episodes out of 5 out. All I knew is that it was going to be beautiful and possibly sad, and it was. Everything about this show is so high quality, from the audio to the dialogue to the locations to the acting, just wow. The production is better than a lot of movies I’ve seen, and every technical aspect is perfect. I am really loving the plot so far as well, I find the childhood friendship to stubborn rivalry to grown up friendship again very relatable. I think it’s a very common experience for a lot of non straight folks to develop an extremely close bond with a same sex friend when you’re too young to realize what you’re actually feeling for them until you’re a lot older and suddely the jealousy and possessivenes all make sense.

I love the recurring themes sprinkled throughout the episodes, starting from the chinese vocabulary that expresses the core thoughts of the two main characters: rival, intimacy, secret, male protagonist, as promised. They could easily be the episode titles, or the names of imaginary sections the show could be divided into. It’s a great way to integrate metaphors and deeper meaning into the plot.

That’s how most of the communication goes in this show, deep emotions are never conveyed through words because words are scary and loud and they can’t be taken back once they’re out there. The plot advances though stares and gestures and touch and gorgeous shots of the landscape. The pace is slow with hour-long episodes that could each be a movie of their own. This worried me a bit before starting, and I have to admit that at times I struggled to stay focused, especially during scenes that set the mood but don’t do much plot-wise. This is just a personal preference, though, and in no way I see it as a flaw.

The dancing around each other the main characters do, sometimes literal, is frustrating but it determines an emotional build up that’s just starting to reach its peak. This is one of those shows that has me screaming if only they talked to each other, but the silences and unspoken words are so well directed and acted that it works. I struggle a lot with keeping in mind that they’re still in high school, they’re very young and I can’t expect them to act rationally just yet.

I was really worried about Teh possibly going the insufferable Theory-of-love-khai way, and I am still not 100% sold on him. When he started helping Oh-aew again it felt like he was just doing it to make himself feel better about the whole thing. It was frustrating to see him so possessive and jealous while also so deeply in denial about his own feelings, to the point where he had me rooting for Bas instead. He was getting better, but then he fled at the end of episode 3 and now I have no clue what’s going to happen next. About this, I really have no idea if they’re going for a happy ending or a sad one. I’m really hoping it will be good, because so far there has been barely any emotional payoff for all the repressed longing and misunderstanding the show has put us through.

I do like their dynamic a lot though, I have a weak spot for childhood friends reconnecting and an ever weaker spot for informal mentor/mentee relationships. Oh-aew asking Teh to tutor him until he passes the admission exam was an almost exact mirror of Yuri on ice Yuri begging Victor to be his coach until he retires and I loved that a lot.

Now on to the one issue I have with this show: it feels too much like an art film. It reminds me of Moonlight and Call me by your name, in the way that I wasn’t able to connect with those movies because they are too perfect. They are so beautiful and carefully crafted that I can’t fully immerse myself in them. There’s a filter that stops me from relating to the characters and constantly reminds me that this is not reality. It’s pretty, it’s extremely well done, but it feels like art. It has some quirks, some scenes that feel too artificial. One scene in particular, the one where Teh buries his head in the paper Oh-aew wrote with his coconut scented pen to sniff it, which is a direct parallel to Call me by your name, bothered me in particular. Just as it felt over-the-top and purposefully weird in the movie, so it feels in the show. It’s a way of showcasing how a confused teen deals with attraction he barely understands, it’s raw and animalistic in a way, but it’s so quirky that all it accomplishes is to remind me that I’m watching an lgbt show. It makes me wonder if a scene like this would make sense in a straight relationship because here it seems to highlight how different and primal his attraction is. If I had to pinpoint it, I’d say that I have a problem with media showcasing queerness though peculiar, purposefully awkward scenes like these instead of normal kissing and cuddling.

Overall, I can’t wait to see how this show ends and I still think it’s one of the best bls to air in 2020, if not ever. It’s refreshing to see something with a big budget used well! So far my rating is 8/10, which I know is a lot lower than what everyone else seems to think but it’s still very much subject to change! Just hoping they won’t pull a Make our days count, but I doubt they’ll go there.

And now Gaya sa pelikula. Wow. Again, I knew next to nothing about this show before watching, and I was coming from a 3 hour I told sunset about you binge watch, so the bar was pretty high.

And boy, did this show deliver. I was blown away by the depth and the humor of it. It feels like the writers had fun taking all sorts of common tropes and stereotypes just to show everyone how well they can be evolved and made complex. Two strangers who somehow find themselves sharing an apartment sounds like the start of so many fanfictions out there, but it’s so well executed and interesting that you don’t even stop to think about how weak the premises for their meeting are. It doesn’t matter and it’s not even that far-fetched, either. The sister and the neighbor are also two characters that start off as extra stereotyped, but in just a few scenes they unveil an incredible depth and backstory. It blew me away.

Each character is so realistic. Everything they do and say makes sense, they all have their reasons and their past and they react accordingly, it’s so coherent. It’s impressive how everything takes place inside the house and you barely realize it because things happen and the plot moves anyways, and the way information about external events and people is conveyed is so seamless that you don’t even notice it. In only 7 episodes (so far) they have managed to give everyone a complex background and personality through the use of objects and small details and wow don’t get me started on the music.

The soundtrack is SO GOOD. I never really pay attention to music in shows but it plays a very important role here in my opinion and, well, it’s exactly the kind of music I like listening to and ahhh I just spent 4 hours playing the first kiss song on loop so I might be biased. Right from the start in episode 1, when Karl gives in to Vlad’s music and starts dancing to it, it’s established that it’s an important element to the mood of each scene. I love how the dancing I talked about for I told sunset about you comes back here, but while I saw it as a hesitant dancing around each other there, here it’s the opposite, it’s freeing and it’s about accepting yourself. And the end of episode 6 highlights this, with the beautiful quote “You are entitled to a love that lets you dance without fear and shame.” It made me cry a looooot.

I think the development of their relationship is masterfully done. It doesn’t happen too quickly nor too slowly. Karl goes through some needed shocks that act as his wake up call. When I’m watching bl shows I care the most about them feeling real and relatable. I don’t want to feel like they were written by a straight person trying to guess what it’s like to be gay. Now I didn’t look anything up about the Gaya sa pelikula writers, but I’d be very surprised if they were straight. I can relate to both Karl and Vlad for different aspects of their stories and their worries and thoughts. There was one part in particular that hit so close that I had to take a few breaks because it hurt too much. I am a lesbian, I’ve had relationship with a girl that lasted over a year, I am out to some friends but not all. I never came out to my parents, who are both very open minded and friends with a lot of gay people and would love me just as much if I told them, and yet I can’t. It’s not just that, I am terrified by the idea of them already knowing or being able to guess. When Karl freaked out over his uncle guessing, it hit me so hard because I’ve felt the same way so many times.

Episode 7 was amazing. I hate badly written drama the most, and 99% of shows can’t come up with any good reason for drama but they have to put it in there anyways and it sucks. This was the complete opposite, I adored it and I say this as a lover of fluff. It feels right, I think it’s an issue that would come up between two people like them. They are both right and the only thing that could happen there is what actually went down. I definitely think things will be fixed by the end and I am looking forward to it, but I am very glad this issue was included because it’s so important and so true to many lgbt people’s lives.

Another aspect I absolutely adored are the multiple references to lgbt theory and language, and Vlad has some of the best lines I’ve ever heard coming from a bl. When he tells Karl not to be afraid of the word, when he explains that “you don’t look gay” isn’t a compliment, when he scolds his sister for not acknowledging the things she used to say to him by covering them up with her ally act, those are all such important and educative moments that I hope everyone listens to. I love that Vlad is not correcting some ignorant bad guy, but it’s his accepting and loving friends and family that make the mistakes, because sometimes being supportive your own way isn’t enough if you’re not actively learning from the ones you want to support.

This is a 10/10 for me right now. I can’t find anything I don’t like about it. It never feels boring, it never feels overdone, it never feels cheap or unoriginal. It went straight to the top of my favorite bls.

And now I can’t help but compare the two a bit, because yes they are two different shows but right now the relationships they portray have reached the same point: there has been a climax and now the one who is more confused about his sexuality is panicking and taking a step back. It’s a coincidence that I watched both shows on the same day when their last aired episodes end in such a similar way, but it really leads me to compare the two. I don’t want to put them one against each other or say which one did it better because that’s not the point of this, they are both two amazing and important shows who are excelling in what they’re doing.

Gaya sa pelikula is down to earth, it’s explicit and it’s straight to the point in explaining what’s going on inside each character’s head. It feels like watching real people deal with real struggles. I told sunset about you is a lot more subtle and quiet, and since we don’t really have a clear insight in the characters’ heads sometimes it’s hard to completely understand what’s going on with them. It’s a completely different way of narrating, and while Gaya sa pelikula makes me feel like I’m a part of the events, I told sunset about you feels like I’m just spectating from an outside perspective. They are different choices, but one of them ends up feeling a lot more emotional to me than the other.

To wrap it up, I highly recommend both shows and I can’t wait to see how they’ll end! They are both among the best shows of the year, both free of all those annoyingly stereotyped characters and plot points that most bls tend to overuse.

#meta #gaya sa pelikula #like in the movies #i told sunset about you #text

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theartofimaginaryfriends · 4 years

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Hey I'm the person that request that Apollo caught reader and Percy kissing. Could you do a sort of part 2 of that where she gets injured on the quest and Apollo/Lester has to tell. She's in critical condition and might not make it and Percy's a wreck. Apollo can only think of hyacinth. But happy ending where she makes it. I always feel awkward requesting 2 times on a blog like I'm bothering them. So if I'm bothering you I'm sorry.

Come Back to Me Part 2

Premise: Y/N got fatally wounded when the Waystation went under attack. When Percy found out, he refused to leave her side. Apollo can't help but think about his lover, Hyacinth.

Masterlist

A/N: This was going to be completely written yesterday, but I tend to write in the evenings and it was 1AM so I went to bed because I forgot I had a meeting this morning XD Also!! You are never bothering me sending in requests! If you have any other requests or just want to send in an ask feel free to do so and I will be more than happy to write it/respond to you! This fic is something I’m particularly fond of because I love Apollo’s character development in TOA, and it was fun to play with. There’s a bit more focus on Apollo than there is Percy, but I still really love it. Hope you do, too :D For context in this: Y/F/F = Your Favourite Food

The guilt Apollo felt worsened as he approached the apartment complex for the second time this year. This time around, however, he wouldn't find his daughter sprawled out on the Jackson's couch bored out of her mind from all the studying. He knew where she was, and he was afraid to break the news to Percy.

His hand hovered over the buzzer, and he took a deep breath. His companion on this trip – Thalia Grace – nudged him to remind him why he came back. He mentally prepared himself for what was going to come his way before pressing the button, and the same female voice greeted him like last time. "Hello?"

"Um, hi," the former God cleared his throat. "It's Apollo. I hate to stop by, but I have news that Percy's going to want to hear."

"Oh, I'll buzz you in," Sally's voice sounded as scared as Apollo felt. Percy's mother adored Y/N, and it comforted him to know she was being well taken care of. Especially because he couldn't.

He reluctantly knocked on the door, and this time was greeted by the teenager looking worried and exhausted, rather than annoyed at his arrival. "What the hell happened- oh hey, Thalia."

"Hey, Percy," the huntress gave her friend a sad smile. "It's about Y/N, can we come in?"

Percy nodded and stepped aside. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife, only increasing Apollo's nerves. He really hated mortal emotions, still not seeing the benefit to them. They never seemed to be helpful in any situation, but he couldn't control how he felt. Especially when the topic happened to be someone he cared about.

Sally, Percy, and his stepfather Paul led them to the small living room to chat. The son of Poseidon had an intense look in his eyes, filled with concern and resentment. Apollo had a feeling the resentment was directed towards him but opted to believe the opposite. He couldn't bear to look anyone in the eye as he told them what had happened.

Y/N was at the Waystation when it went under attack, and Commodus had his Germani holding her, Emmie, Georgina, and Leo hostage. In an attempt to help her escape, Apollo managed to reveal his true Godly form which blinded the New Hercules and his troops. In doing so, the Germani holding Y/N hostage wounded her before turning into dust. The wound was fatal, and it didn't look good for her.

Percy stayed silent as Apollo explained, his expression changing from anxious, to angry, and then distressed. Everyone present waited for him to say something, but it seemed as though he couldn’t. Sally instinctively brought her son into a comforting hug, and at her touch, the boy burst into tears. Y/N had been injured in fights before, but never severe enough that it was likely she wouldn't survive.

Apollo couldn't help but get choked up himself. He had grown fond of his daughter in the two months he spent with her on the Quest. Despite the constant near-death experiences, Apollo had gotten to know her beyond a hero. It was his fault she was in this state, and he was worried the demigod sitting in front of him would blame him as well.

"I need to be with her," Percy wiped the tears from his eyes, speaking more to Sally than anyone else.

"How safe is the Waystation right now?" The woman asked kindly.

"Percy will be in safe hands," Thalia answered, smiling as Sally. "I'll make sure he gets back to you in one piece."

"Go, Y/N needs you right now," Sally squeezed Percy's shoulder. As soon as Sally said that, Percy rushed to his room, and emerged with a duffle bag not even a minute later.

He hugged his parents goodbye and left with Thalia and Apollo. The demigod radiated anguish, causing the tension to increase between the three of them. Thalia glanced at Apollo, a look of pity in her eyes. She was worried about Y/N like everyone else, but she had a feeling she would be okay. It would just take time for her to heal.

***

Percy hadn't left Y/N's side since he came to the Waystation. Emmie and Jo were worried about the boy, trying to convince him to eat more than just some toast for the fifth time that day. Leo tried to help as well, noticing that his friend wasn't sleeping at all.

It had been two days, and Y/N's condition hadn't changed in the slightest. While Jo tried to convince the residents that it could mean good news, Apollo could tell she was as worried as the rest of them. This was a difficult wound to treat, and quite frankly it was a miracle Y/N had lasted this long.

Apollo couldn't help but think of Hyacinthus when he had dropped by to visit his daughter in the infirmary. Percy looked completely broken as he gripped her hand, reminding him of how he felt when his lover was killed by Zephyros.

In his eyes, Hyacinthus was the most beautiful man he had ever been with. The love that Apollo felt for him was still prominent to this day, causing the former God to compare all of his lovers to him. It still pained him to think about his lover, and the Hyacinth was a painful reminder of what he had lost. Due to Zephyros, Apollo would never feel a love like that again carrying the burden of grief for the rest of his Immortal life.

Percy felt the same way about Y/N that Apollo felt for Hyacinthus, and it broke his heart. The boy didn't even notice when there were other visitors around, and Apollo was convinced that the demigod barely even knew where he was at this point. The only thing Percy could focus on was his girlfriend, who seemed paler since the last time Apollo came to visit.

He held his daughter's free hand, finding himself praying to anyone that would listen. Don't you think this is punishment enough? Putting me in this pathetic mortal body, and putting my own life at risk? Y/N doesn't deserve to die, she has an entire life left to live. Please, don't take this away from her. She doesn’t deserve this.

***

Y/N had gotten herself injured before, but the pain this time around was unbearable. She was weary when she woke up, and only vaguely aware of where she was. All she remembered was being held hostage by the Germani, and a sharp pain as she shielded her eyes away from Apollo's Divine form. The next thing she knew, she was confined to a bed in an infirmary with... snakes?

The next thing she became aware of was the boy sitting next to her. His jet black hair was a mess, and his sea-green eyes were red and puffy. He had an iron grip on her hand, to the point that it almost distracted from the pain she felt from her wound. "Perce, you may want to lessen your grip a bit there."

Her throat was extremely sore, and her voice didn't sound any better. Percy didn't seem to care, though, seeing his girlfriend awake. Exhausted and in pain, but awake. He almost fell out of his chair in shock, amusing the girl to no end, but quickly recovered. The smile on his face was infectious, and Y/N was pleased to see him. "How are you feeling?"

She was about to reply when Jo came running in. "What's going- Oh! You're awake."

The old woman looked relieved and rushed over to give Y/N some nectar. It tasted like Y/F/F and Sally's blue cookies. Her strength returned enough that Percy was able to help her sit up. "How long was I out?"

"Three days," Percy answered, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. "We didn't think you were going to make it."

"You really think I was going to die?" Y/N snorted. "Gods, what a lame way to kick the bucket."

"Not funny," Percy crossed his arms and tried to look disappointed in her.

"It was a little funny!"

"No, it wasn't."

"Babe, you're smiling. " Percy rolled his eyes and leaned over to kiss her. He listened to Y/N as she recounted what had been happening the past seven weeks, overjoyed that she was back by his side.

The two barely noticed Jo leave the room and Apollo watching them at the doorframe. He was glad his daughter was okay and even happier to see her smiling. He wasn't sure if it was because his prayer was answered, or some sort of miracle happened, but he was grateful to know that she was alive. Apollo wasn't about to let Y/N lose the love of her life, especially at such a young age.

At that moment, Apollo knew that he couldn't allow Y/N to join him on any more quests – even if it meant fighting with her about it. She was meant to go back to New York with Percy, and catch up on the schoolwork that she missed. The former God couldn't take that away from his kid and preferred she live a boring life for a while. As long as she was safe, it didn't matter to him.

#percy jackson #pjo #hoo #toa #trials of apollo #percy jackson x reader

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solastia · 3 years

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Day 5

Feel So Right, Yoongi x Reader, 3/? Chapters, 5.8 K words so far, mention of Domestic Abuse

Ok, so I was trying to hold off on writing about this one, but like...I have no self control, hehehehe. It kept calling my name and I said fuck it, I’mma read it again right freaking now.

If anyone, ANYONE, comes at me for liking this fic because it’s a cliche Knight in Shining Armor fic, I will punch you in the throat! Let me live in my beautiful, rose tinted delusion. Thanks!!! And if I ever feel the need to be rescued by a man, please believe I’mma let it be Yoongi.

Ok, let’s start with some extremely endearing details I just freaking love in this fic. Yoongi ruffling his hair early in the morning, wearing Iron Man jammies, the MC’s Bulbasaur slippers, and ofc the fact that the chubby pug in the story it PoTAEto. I know it’s not written that way in the story, but that’s how my mind read it. :D

UUGH HOW CUTE CAN THEY BE?!?!

Ok, let’s get into this beauty!

Warning to anyone reading this, there are mentions of domestic abuse, please skip this if it bothers you.

“She was sporting a few bruises that she must have gotten during the move, making him wonder why she didn’t have help.”

I’m ready to throw down. This ONE statement coupled with an earlier one about screaming...GURL I am ready to throw down for our MC. We don’t even really know her yet and I’m ready to throw hands for her. We know where this is going! You are able to very quickly have the audience rooting for our MC. Amazing!

Ok, our MC’s “man”. Talk about wanting to punch people in the throat. You could feel her light diminish the instant he walked in. And Yoongi was ready to throw down too! Bless his heart. AHHHH and now for chapter 2…

Our mans Yoongi over there being able to gauge our MC’s mood by what she’s playing on her guitar :D

Someone is smitten!!!

And I have to ask, that one comment about our MC liking the Chainsmokers and Yoongi being “highly offended”. This was before our boys collabed with them, right? Any comments about this line? Lol

The banter between our MC and Yoongi is so freaking sweet. His comments still have a little bit of bite to them, because it’s Yoongi of course. But you can see that it’s all playful, and she reciprocates. It’s so freaking sweet and cute AHHHHH!

“Yoongi snorts and brings two heaping bowls of stew to the table, purposely ignoring the giant wedding photo above it. He’d already inspected it a few too many times; his wayward imagination often envisioning himself next to the beaming beauty draped in ivory lace.”

YOONGI...my man...maybe you’re waay past smitten. Dayum our boy has fallen hard in just a few months!

“He smiles softly as she enthusiastically eats the food he made, every now and then releasing a pleased moan that made his pants feel a little tight.”

I’mma just leave that right there. Enough said, really.

“She quirks her eyebrow and waves to signal ‘go on you slow asshole.’”

OUR GIRL HAS BITE TOO! YESSS! I love female characters who are complex like this. She has a personality! She’s funny, sweet, smart, and cute! You flesh her out with just a few descriptions and lines. Something you do very well! Do you plan all this out in advance, or do you just wing it?? I’m curious!

“As they enjoy their dessert together, Y/N spends the time asking about the song and trying to get a feel for the emotions behind it so she would know how to play. Yoongi did his best, describing the sense of melancholy and wonderment behind the words without giving himself away. Words of adoration and every other emo emotion that Yoongi felt poured onto paper.

Words about her.”

Just like...kill me now. I cry. I CRY.

Wow, our boy is a goner, waxing poetically about her skill, her smile, her scent. Your descriptions are gorgeous. Madam...are you the reason I now have a double bias??? (Please don’t tell Jimin, it would crush him lol)

“It was against his very nature not to speak up over some injustice he saw.” Why you gotta make him so damn perfect!?!?!

“Your nose has gone all scrunchy. You’re either hungry or you need a nap. Maybe both,” she giggled as she exited the booth and sat at his desk.”

AAAAHHH SHE ALREADY KNOWS HIM SO WELL. Gurl, throw that pile of garbage to the curb, you got a whole Yoongi pinning over you!

“I’ve never even been allowed to work before” This hit me hard! She has become completely dependent on that asshole husband, and he did that shit on purpose. Do you understand the implications of all of this ( I mean, I know you do, but do the readers realize it?!?). IF Yoongi makes his move and she reciprocates his feelings, she’s going to be apprehensive about becoming dependent on another man. Poor Yoongi, he’s already in deep and IF she leaves him, she’s going to need time to heal. But I hope she gets a taste of Yoongi dick before that happens. I’M JUST SAYING SHE DESERVES SOME GOOD LOVIN BEFORE TAKING TIME FOR HERSELF.

“You make me want so many things I shouldn’t, Yoongi.”

YES GURL, GET ITTTT!!!!

“Fuck, you have no idea how much I want you. I know I shouldn’t, and I try to fight it. I would treat you so well, baby. So gentle. Give you the whole world and the only marks would be from my lips.”

Yoongi….I’m right here. I am literally ready for the taking, come get your girl!

“The first time I make love to you, it’s going to be while we’re both sober and in my bed where I can take my time”

I literally cannot be more in love with this man.

“I’ll be here if you want me to be”

Do y’all see what he’s doing?? He’s telling her that he’d be there for her, but it would be under her terms. He is giving her the power! He’s saying that he’ll back away if she wants him to. HE SAID FUCK YOUR TOXIC MASCULINITY. This is how you win a girl over!

Ok, I am emotionally exhausted, but I love it!!!

I don’t even know what to think about what’s to come for this fic because I feel it’s going to HURT! Can I ask for a happy ending please? They don’t have to end up together, but I need them to be happy in the end!

Until next time!

💜💜💜 Puppee Anon

*Potato the pug is a real boy. My pug’s name is Potato, and yes, I usually call him Tae.

*I did write this before the Chainsmoker’s collab. This has happened a few times where I write about something and then something related happens with BTS and I’m starting to get concerned lmao. But I did fully enjoy how obvious it was that Yoongi didn’t like dealing with them at all.

*It IS going to have a happy ending. I think this story only has one full chapter left and an epilogue. I’ll get to it soon 😘

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thetypedwriter · 4 years

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Only Mostly Devastated Book Review

Only Mostly Devastated Book Review by Sophie Gonzales

You know those feel good movies that are short and sweet and fun while you’re watching it, but mostly forgettable? You all know what I’m talking about. It’s the experience of something that is fine, enjoyable even, but largely unnoticed on the grand scheme of things?

Only Mostly Devastated is like that.

Now, before the fangirls attack, let me just say that what I commented above is not an inherent criticism. Not every novel that I read, or people want to read, has to be a masterful prose full of epistemological queries and agonizing philosophies on life.

Sometimes you want something sweet and fluffy, like cotton candy, to fill in the times when your brain needs a break. A good book does not necessarily equate to a challenging book, although English teachers in school will have you believe otherwise.

Sometimes books can just be fun.

Only Mostly Devastated tells the queer book version of Grease, down to allusions making its way even on the front cover. The plot is basic in its storytelling. The main character, Oliver, is staying in North Carolina for the summer with his parents as they help out his aunt while she receives treatment for cancer. During the summer, Oliver has a not-so-summer-fling with a boy named Will that both think will end when Oliver moves back to California at the end of the season.

But lo and behold! Oliver’s parents decide to stay in North Carolina for a year to help out, forcing Oliver to spend his last year of high school far away from home and unbeknownst to him, attend the same high school as his beloved Will from the summer.

However, predictably, Will from summer and Will the basketball player that Oliver meets in high school, seem to be two different people, with Oliver trying to reconcile why the boy he loves is pretending like he doesn’t exist.

This book...isn’t original. In any way, shape, or form. From the plot, the characters, the dialogue, and even the writing, nothing about this stands out too much to me.

Again, this does not make it a bad read, sometimes you want light and easy and predictable, but it does make it a forgettable one.

The plot is fine. It’s sturdy, it works for what Gonzales is trying to achieve, which is mainly the love story between Will and Oliver. She does try to throw some other things in there, like putting a side character who is struggling with being bisexual, another side character with PCOS (polycystic ovary syndrome), some light stuff on body image, other airy commentary on fetishizing people’s sexualization, and of course, the death and loss of a loved one and the grieving process that goes with it.

Now, you might be saying, wow, thetypedwriter, what are you thinking? That is so much stuff that she put into her book! Incredible! How can you call it shallow and predictable?

Well, for one, the book is short. While again, nice for those readers who want something light to carry on their way to tan by the pool, great, but for those readers who want something more, this can be frustrating.

For an in-depth reading experience for any of those themes above, hitting the tip of the iceberg would be putting it lightly. The book skims the surface of those topics, but they aren’t delved into in any semblance of sophistication or depth that would actually make this a more memorable read.

Reason two, Sophie Gonzales does come across quite preachy sometimes.

Now, this can be tricky so let me explain. Putting forth your agenda or your beliefs and values in a book is not an erroneous thing to do. Actually, it’s an amazing thing to do and people have been using books as a form of expression for these types of things for centuries. Some may argue that the intrinsic value of a book is to express such opinions.

However, this is not Sophie Gonzales’ biography, nor is it an opinion article about how she feels about the fetishization of girls kissing girls for male entertainment. When you are going to put your opinions and beliefs into your book, it needs to make sense in the scheme of the characters.

For example, if J.K. Rowling randomly had Ron go on a speech about women’s rights and toxic masculinity, it would be out-of-character and baffling since Ron would not be the character to say such a thing.

However, if Hermione were to give such a speech, the ideas and beliefs would be passed along, message received, but without breaking character or pulling me out of the universe to think what the hell because a sermon came out of left field that held no continuity in the scheme of the novel as a whole.

This happened to me quite a lot in Only Mostly Devastated. It was like Sohpie Gonzales got to a certain point, told her characters to step aside, and then got on her soapbox to preach about love and acceptance.

Once again, I’m not against any of the messages she’s portraying at all.

What I think lacked finesse, however, was the way in which she got those messages across, which was often out-of-character and forced the plot to go certain places just so she could get the chance to talk about those issues.

With that out of the way, other slight criticisms I have mainly are to be found with the characters and the writing itself.

The characters were all likable enough. I’m not about to go write fanfiction about any of them though. They were largely generic, although entertaining enough for what this book is offering. They were also all pretty forgettable and formed pretty forgettable relationships as well.

Do I really remember any of Will’s friends? Nope. What about Oliver’s girl squad? Kind of? I did appreciate the attempt at including more characters of color, including Will.

I do think that Lara was the most interesting character. I honestly would have preferred to have had a whole novel about her rather than told from Oliver’s point-of-view, simply as Oliver is basic as all hell (white boy that plays guitar and is slightly awkward. I’ve only seen this character about 10 million thousand times before).

And if Gonzales had written this novel about Lara instead, all of her themes would have worked infinitely better. You still get the struggle with sexuality, you still get the side POC characters with PCOS and body image issues, and you could still have the plot of loss and death if you wanted to.

The friendship with the girls would make so much more sense, the fetishization topic could have been delved into way more thoroughly, and Lara was kind of a bitch, and I appreciated that about her. You would even still get a musical person in the form of Juliette even without Oliver on the scene.

But, nope. We get Oliver. Which is...fine. Mediocre, but fine, I guess.

Lastly, Gonzales is a perfectly average writer. The story flowed, it was funny, it had its moments of nuance and sarcasm, but there were moments where she would make comparisons, always with similes or metaphors, that left me literally confounded because of how bizarre and out-of-place I found them.

Some examples:

1. “Up close, she smelled like sugary flowers.”

-I’m sorry, but what do sugary flowers smell like? Why are the flowers sugary? Who would even sugar their flowers in the first place?

2. “Deep inside my chest, my heart was beating as though it was trying to tear free from bondage.”

-Just...an extremely odd choice of words. Why bondage, Sophie Gonzales, why?

3. “I’d rather floss with barbed wire, than watch a live sports match…”

-Ummm eww and scary?

I could go on and on with the frankly awful choices for comparison that are made in this book with incessant use, but I think you get the point. The similes and metaphors were downright baffling. Not really sure what Gonzales was going for with them, but...no. Just no.

Lastly, Oliver’s nickname Ollie-oop made me want to curl up and die. It didn’t make them seem like better friends. In fact, the whole rose gold-girl-group and Oliver was such a dumpster fire of a friendship that lacked any and all actual solid foundations for a relationship that it annoyed me, especially in the end when Oliver decides to stay in North Carolina to be with people he’s not even close to.

Additionally, the inclusion of Oliver’s two friends from back home was just...pointless, utterly pointless. I don’t even know why she bothered to write them into the story honestly. They added nothing.

Again, her themes are good in nature and provocative in theory, but the book was just too short and shallow to justify writing in any of it when really all she cared about was Will and Oliver sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G. It was almost like fanfiction, but published. Actually, nope, I think fanfiction is better.

Wow, I guess I had more feelings about this book than I thought, mostly negative too.

Once more, I want to heavily emphasize that I DIDN’T HATE IT. It was a super, light, super cute, very simple book that I’m sure a ton of people will appreciate right now with everything heavy going on in the world.

If you need a book in cloud form, this is your novel. But....if you wanted something more like me, if you found it just a little too simplistic in nature, just a little too forgettable, then that’s okay too.

Recommendation: If you’re too burdened down by carrying your sunscreen and your cooler out to the pool, this is the perfect light summer reading to tuck under one arm and melt your worries away for a little while. If you want an actually good, actually complex and refined LGBTQ+ coming of age novel then I’d definitely go for the likes of Red, White, and Royal Blue or Autoboyagraphy instead.

Score: 5/10

#only mostly devastated #sophie gonzales #ya fiction #YA Books #YA literature #LGBTQ fiction #book blog #books #book review #Book Recommendations

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dragonnan · 3 years

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Author Interview Tag

Tagged by @aelaer a week or two ago, thank you!

Name: Tanya (among family I'm Nan or Auntie Nanny)

Fandoms: Sherlock, MCU, Psych, Prodigal Son, and a goodly collection of others

Where you post: For a number of years I posted on FFN but between the really shitty reviews and extremely cumbersome posting process I finally quit. I posed on Psychfic while still an active part of that fandom but that, too, has pretty much ended. I put a few stories on Wattpad but found it to be pretty meh. I now post exclusively to AO3.

Most popular multi-chapter fic: It's a tossup between “Fury” on Psychfic and “All Nighter” on AO3 – one based on comments and the other on Kudos. Frankly “popularity” is really subjective because there's also stuff like read count and with comments, at least nearly half are replies from me and read count also includes re-reads as well as every time I clicked on the damn thing to edit so....

You know I'm just really not sure how to properly answer this??

Favorite story you’ve written so far: Like others have stated you can ask me this on three different days and get three different answers and there will be more than 1 fic mentioned every time so.... Because I write in different fandoms I just absolutely can't list a single fic. The best I can narrow it would a fic from my top 3 fandoms.

Psych: Paint it Black. I had read a fic where Shawn was gradually going blind and had really been enjoying it and the challenges it presented. Sadly it was never completed. As has happened before I decided I would write my own damn fic if I couldn't get a completed story so that was the primary motivation to start this. What I most love about this is writing from Shawn's perspective as he navigates being blind and not knowing whether or not his condition is permanent. I did my best to honor the experience of blind and partially blind people and tried to look beyond the cliché.

MCU: I have so much fun writing these stories! In spite of the dumpster fire the film canon became I do so love this sandbox and employing various forms of unfucking it. So I'm gonna cheat a little and pick two for my faves here since one is a WIP. Sed Diabolus. I don't need to have completed it yet to know this will be my all-time favorite. This is the first fic that has been entirely plotted out and OMG I'm so excited for iiiit!! The second is Simple Math which seems like an odd choice given there's zero action – mostly just one character – hell, not even any whump. But there is something about that deep dive into Tony's mindset that keeps this as a fave even though it was the first thing I ever wrote for the MCU. I learned about Tony as I wrote this and I also worked my way through those motivations that bothered me regarding Stane. Even years later I still mentally go back to this fic whenever I write Tony because I feel encapsulates the essence of how I see him as a character.

Sherlock: Compared to other fandoms I'm still quite new to this fandom so I don't have nearly as many fics. But I still have a favorite! And, like with the MCU, it's the first story I ever wrote for this fandom; The Tiger and the Shark. Returning to a plot device I've employed in other fics, this one is built around a sexual assault and taking the character on a journey from that terrible event to the point where they rediscover themselves. PTSD ever being my favorite form of whump I employ that fairly a lot in this story and employ some kinda radical methods for coping with those memories.

Fic you were nervous to post: I mean until I start getting comments I'm a world of anxiety with every story I post. But grabbing a specific fic that hit my nerves – that Sherlock fic I'd said was my fave certainly qualified. Not only was it my first Sherlock fic – it also was charging out of the gate with a very heavy topic so yeah – I wasn't sure if people would absolutely hate it or find my characterizations totally off or what.

How you choose your titles: It varies a bit. In some stories, like Sed Diabolus, I actually consult friends on various ideas. Other times I'll consider songs or lyrics and my favorite thing is if I can alter the known title just a bit to make it more relevant to the fic (I did that a LOT with Psych fics which was the method the show also employed for its episode titles). One of my favorite Psych titles is “The Wizard Was the Wicked Witch and the Scarecrow Lost His Courage”.

Do you outline: Almost never – not until “Sed Diabolus”. That story, though, is so astoundingly complex that without an outline I'd be hopelessly lost. I am, though, trying to make a practice of outlining more because it helps SO much!

Complete: If we count every one-shot collection and challenge collection it likely is over 200 stories. Of course a lot of those are one-shots. My total completed chaptered fics number maybe around 34?

In progress: 16 – between Psychfic and AO3. All Psych stories are on long-term hiatus for the foreseeable future (some, honestly, I will never finish as they are many many years old and I've lost the inspiration for the plot). Several MCU stories are also on the back-burner while I focus on “Sed Diabolus”. I admit I get LOTS of story ideas and staying focused on a single fic is not something I've ever been greatly successful with.

Coming soon/not yet started: I meaaaan.... lots?? I have probably several hundred ideas and partially started fics across many fandoms. As to “imminently coming soon...” I don't think I currently have an active story that I haven't already posted at least a first chapter. Sadly I have zero patience for developing something for months before posting which is why I have so many WIPs. That said I DO have a Sherlock au that has been poking at me now and then involving the witch trials that started in Denmark and, eventually, made their way to Salem. The idea would be that Molly Hooper is accused of being a witch. She, of course, is innocent but cause this unfortunate attention due to her “uncanny” ability to heal the sick and injured (not so much uncanny as opposed to employing methods that aren't so reliant on superstition and folklore).

She is scheduled to be tortured and executed but is saved by Sherlock – a strange recluse primarily ignored and given a pass as he solves mysteries for people. He and his friend John save Molly from this awful fate. The twist is that Sherlock is a sorcerer (bit of marvel crossover-ish) and able to transport them to safety.

Do you accept prompts: I wish I could cause I love ideas but I don't have the time/energy to always work on what I already have and I'm awful at follow thru. Like I will never turn away an Ask wanting to share ideas but I can't promise that I can actually write anything.

Upcoming story you are most excited to write: As was the reply to a previous query – I have lots that are ideas that will linger in partial stages for sometimes years. If it's “upcoming” I've already posted the first chapter lol! But, again, I have several story ideas that whenever I poke through my folders I get excited about someday actually writing them. Here is a teaser for an MCU fic involving Tony Stark and Obie (I still feel this was never explored enough – certainly not in fic):

They were doing a retrospective, ten year anniversary kinda... whatever. Unofficial, of course. Certainly nothing Pepper would have dreamed up even at her most drunk (which, honestly, was never her scene. Tony had sorta owned that space well beyond the time it had started owning him). Whose idea it ultimately had been? Frankly Tony couldn't give a fuck. That he was asked to be one of the speakers was slightly more... awkward. Awkward was the right word, yeah? Nauseating was certainly another and possibly a bit more accurate.

Dead for a decade and Obadiah Stane still managed to fuck with his life.

But... it hadn't always been that way. At least, not as he'd believed back when the Walkman had been on every kid's Christmas list.

He'd thought it was bonding; at the time. His dad had never been one for just hanging out; shooting the shit; telling tales out of school. No, Pops, when he bothered to interact, led with questions. “You keeping your grades up?” “You still seeing that floozy?” “When are you going to pull your head out of your ass and grow the hell up?” “You do realize it's my name you're disgracing every time you go on a bender?”

With Obie it was just, easy. Obie might ask about school but it was always with approval and pride. He would discuss Tony's conquests as though Tony had climbed Kilimanjaro wearing nothing but underwear and a cape.

Obie was there when his father wasn't. Which meant that Obie was always there. The first time he got astoundingly drunk on his father's scotch, Obie was the one to help him hunch over the toilet and vomit expensive, aged booze into the toilet. Obie was also the one to replace the depleted bottle to keep Howard in the dark. For a fourteen year old kid still trying to gain his dad's favor, that had meant everything.

He saw his first porn with Obie; sex education ala Traci Lords, three months shy of his fifteenth birthday. That was the same time he was introduced to weed. Obie had cautioned him to use it sparingly; didn't want to fry that genius brain, he'd say, and ruffle his hair. The porn had made him uncomfortable. Obie had turned it off and told him they could watch whatever Tony wanted. They'd ended up changing the station to Knight Rider; smoking and munching Cheetos and laughing over their orange fingers.

It was Obie who was there, arm around his shoulders, after his parents died. He desperately didn't want to sob in front of the man. Things were so complicated with his dad that all he felt was blinding guilt... as though some part of him had caused this. But Obie had filled him with bourbon until the emotions got soft around the edges and he'd sat beside the older man, head tipping gradually to the right until he was held up by Obie's shoulder. Obie had just slung an arm around him and let Tony pass out while he rubbed a broad hand up and down his bicep.

It was strange, now, looking back with adult perspective. A perspective that included Afghanistan and his intended execution while Obie talked about legacy and responsibility while Tony's lungs slowly seized. He'd taken the time to sit there – arm around Tony's shoulders while one broad hand traveled up and down Tony's bicep – just like when he was a kid and Obie was the whole world.

He'd tried to remember if it had felt so... tainted... at the time. Or if he'd always believed it was love.

Obie had never quite crossed that line. Though hindsight offered a peek into that possibility with enough clarity Tony had fought with his cramping gut for nearly thirty minutes. He'd staved off vomiting though he was fairly certain his dignity had still been in tatters what with Bruce wandering in on his misery.

Upcoming story you are most excited about (this is basically a repeat of the above question so I decided to change it. Do you have a future story idea you'd like to write that is not yet beyond the vague idea stage? I love stories that put Molly in some sort of jeporady and I have a barely formed idea to someday write a “stalker fic” of some sort and not I don't care that this trope had been done on repeat – I still love it lol! I have a smidge of writing for it:

“I need your help.”

As afternoons at Baker Street went, this was a mundane request heard so often that Sherlock's typical reply, “Obviously, or you wouldn't be here”, could have been printed on flash cards. The detective had actually made the suggestion after a particularly full day at the flat and having heard the statement no less than twenty times.

Today, however, Sherlock merely blinked for a moment. Then, with an awkwardness rare to a man with a lethal sort of grace in his movements, Sherlock gestured to John's chair, JOHN'S CHAIR, before taking his usual seat.

Molly didn't exactly smile but her lips edged up a bit before she sat.

John cleared his throat before pointing a vague hand towards the kitchen. “I'll just go make some tea, shall I?”

“No, please, I...” The stammer in her speech was not uncommon; though John couldn't recall such obvious fear. Forgoing the kitchen he, instead, took the hard wooden chair facing the other two.

“Molly, what's wrong?”

Tagging: @kitcat992 @mizjoely @sgam76 @ariaadagio @hanuko @ceruleanmindpalace

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cutesuki--bakugou · 5 years

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Matsuki

Main Pairing: Bakugou x Koge (OC) w/ Matsuki (OC) Featured Characters: Kirishima x Nene (OC) w/ Otoha (OC), Seijirou (OC) x Dokuji (OC), Masaru x Mitsuki, Kozue (OC), Ryuji (OC)

Rating: Teen-ish? Could be Mature if you wanted to really be serious about it Warnings: Cursing, adult suggestive conversation, pregnancy, labor, birth, very soft Bakugou, cute fluffy family things Genre: Fluff / Romance / Domestic / Family Words: 5,964

A/N: This is the first time I’ve ever written anything like this, and I was extremely nervous and anxious about how it turned out. It still makes me cry when I reread it, so I think it’s fine lol. Forgive anything that I got wrong, I did do a lot of research and watched a lot of labor and delivery vlogs to try and get this as accurate as I can. Since I haven’t had any children of my own, idk how to properly explain or express the feelings of it all. Hopefully I got close. Either way, I hope those of you that like Koge will enjoy~

“You’re shitting me.”

“I’m not Katsuki. I’m not shitting you, that just happened.”

The two lovers stared at each other as Koge stood in the hot clear liquid that had just cascaded down her legs, soaking her orange fluffy socks. Standing for a moment to relieve some pre-labor cramps had resulted in something more than what either of them was expecting that calm and chilly February day. Koge’s water had just broken, and the constant recurring pain she had been feeling the past few days finally made sense. Sure, they knew that it was going to happen at any moment since her due date had already passed them by a week ago, but that didn’t dull the shock any less. In fact, the shock was so severe that neither of them moved until Koge felt a sharp contraction, making her cry out and double over a bit, gripping the edge of the couch for support.

“Okay, Katsuki, it’s now! Right now!”

“Fuck!” Bakugou ripped off his gaming headphones, ignoring the confused grumbling of his friends as he tossed all game gear aside on the couch before leaping up. He was in and out of the bedroom with suitcases in hand faster than one would expect, not even bothering to change out of his pajamas. “Utsuro, you have the worst fucking timing with everything, I swear!”

Digging her nails into the couch, Koge glared at him as he dashed around to grab this thing and that item that they would probably need, though she didn’t care to keep track of what he was getting in her pained state. “Shut up, I can’t help it that I’m going into labor! Argh, oww! Hurry!”

“Don’t rush me, I’m going to forget something!”

“Then forget it! You can get it afterward!” With a moment of a dull pain, Koge waddled her way towards the door. “This isn’t a business trip, I’m about to pop! And rip your eyes out while I’m at it!”

Shrugging on a backpack and picking up a suitcase, Bakugou glowered down at his lover as she clutched onto him, having to stop again as she cried out in pain. “You tell me to be prepared, and then you threaten me when I’m trying to be.” He opened up the front door, leading her out at her pace. “What the hell do you want from me?!”

“Don’t yell at me, Katsuki!” As tears began to stream down her flushed face, Bakugou was immediately hit with a rush of confused feelings, unsure of how to handle any of this. Had he gone to all those stupid classes with her? Yes. Had he read all those stupid articles about how to handle this exact moment? Yes. Was he being calm and rational like they told him to be? No, not at all. How could he be? The woman he adored more than anything was crying, screaming and about to go through the most painful thing she would probably ever experience. Nothing he could have read or studied could prepare him for this. But, he knew he had to try to calm down, for her and their child. If she was upset, it would only make it all worse.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry! C’mon, you’re doing good.” Encouragement seemed to work well to get her down the hall to the elevator, where she clutched onto the railing inside with both hands, leaning forward and breathing heavily.

“Katsuki, I want you to imagine-” A wince interrupted her, followed by a moment of deep breaths. “Someone shoving a watermelon up your ass. Not a small one, a fucking big one. Oooh, ow ow- And they shove it all the way up into your intestine. And force you to shit it out. Imagine that. Imagine it.”

Bakugou could only stand there in stunned silence for a moment, watching the numbers on the elevator decline. Never before had he heard her talk like this, and that was also a visual he never thought would be brought into his imagination. “Uhm… Utsuro, I don’t think that’s something I could imagine if I wanted to.”

“Did you know that there’s data that women have a higher pain tolerance than men just for this reason? Just for the act of pushing a tiny human through your vagina.”

“This is the longest elevator ride of my life.”

“Shut up, don’t chastise me! I’m spitting facts here.”

“You’re spitting nonsense. C’mon.” Right before the elevator stopped, Bakugou gently pried her off the metal bar, allowing her to clutch onto his arm instead with her iron grip. “Do you want me to walk you to the car or go get it?”

“We’ll be walking for an eternity, Katsuki. I can’t do it, I can barely stand.” Hiding her face into his upper arm, Koge walked beside him the best she could. “Just leave me. Leave me to suffer, you’re gonna hate me after this, anyways.”

With a roll of his eyes, Bakugou stopped at the entrance to the apartment complex, leaving her there with the suitcase. “It’s your turn to shut up, I’m not leaving you, stupid. Don’t move.” Before she could confirm or complain any further, he sprinted out the door at full speed to the parking garage where his car was waiting for him. Left alone, Koge sniffled and clutched at her swollen abdomen, leaning back against the wall.

She had been through pain before. She had bones broken, bruises, cuts and whatever else came with her profession. But this was something that she could never have prepared herself for. The daily cramps she had gone through were nothing compared to these, which were rolling through her body from a dull pain to a full-on contraction that almost crippled her to the floor. It was obvious to her now that these pains she had been feeling for the past couple of hours weren’t just the regular pre-labor cramps. She had been having contractions, and her water had just now broken. It was stupid of her to have not realized, and now she worried that she may have caused extra complications by not going to the hospital sooner.

As her worried lover returned to her, she clutched onto him tightly, struggling to walk through a strong contraction. “I’ve been in labor for hours and didn’t realize it, Katsuki, I’m so stupid!”

“You’re not stupid, don’t talk like that.” Bakugou got her into the front seat of the car that he had already leaned back, helping her buckle in. “Just… lay there and breathe, alright?”

“Take my socks off, please.” Koge struggled to speak between her hiccups and sobs, the way she looked up at him so pathetic he nearly felt like crying himself. “They feel gross and wet.”

Unable to help a small chuckle, Bakugou pulled her socks off as requested, before giving her a comforting kiss on the lips. “Anything you want. Any other requests before we drive off?”

“One more kiss.”

Bakugou gladly gave it to her, though it was cut short as she cried out, wiggling in her seat. “Okay, no more, time to go.” He shut the door and was in the car within seconds, speeding off at what traffic and the law would allow him. Now that he was sitting, he could finally feel how intensely he was shaking. Every inch of his body felt jittery, squeezing the steering wheel so tightly he feared he may just break it. He was nauseous, excited, scared, worried and just all around ecstatic. They had been preparing for this for months, and now their little man was finally going to be here. Still, they weren’t out of the woods yet. He knew that any number of things could happen to both Koge and the baby in the next few days, and though he tried to keep those thoughts at bay, he couldn’t stop them.

All he could do was try to think of anything else. Right now, all that mattered was getting her to the hospital as quickly and safely as he could.

“Katsuki,” Koge spoke between heavy breaths, hands still on her stomach. “Talk to me. Tell me a story.”

“A story? Like what?”

“I don’t know, just something! Something funny, I don’t care.”

“Fuck, uhm…” Bakugou glanced at her as she shifted about uncomfortably in her seat. “Do you remember right after I graduated, when I came to visit you in Eguchi’s studio and we started fooling around in the locker room?”

Nodding, a small smile broke Koge’s lips at that moment, though it couldn’t stand up against the need to wince with another rush of pain. “How could I forget that? Y-you were so handsy and excited, I don’t know why you were like that.” Becoming winded, she took a moment to breathe before she continued. “Why were you?”

“I think having watched you teach a class got me all riled up. But that wasn’t what I was getting at. Remember how loud Eguchi screamed when he walked in on us?”

“Oh!” With a laugh, Koge brought a hand up to cover her mouth, something she did when she got embarrassed. “He was so dramatic. We hadn’t even started doing anything yet, and he acted like we had just committed murder. ‘Don’t fornicate in my studio!’, he says.”

“Who the fuck uses ‘fornicate’ in a sentence seriously?”

“Seijirou, that’s who. Hypocrite, him and Doey probably-- ow, ow, ow damn it! Ah, they probably do way worse. Did you get my phone?”

Reaching into his pocket, Bakugou pulled out her phone and handed it to her. “See? I would have forgotten it if you had been in charge.”

“I am in charge! I’m gonna post online that I’m going into labor-”

“No, Utsuro-”

“- so everyone calls and shows up at once-”

“- don’t do that-”

“- it’s… baby… time!” She typed with furious speed, not giving him a chance to talk her out of it. “Boom, posted. Argh, damn it!” Letting out a heavy cry, she slammed her hand down onto the car door. “Baby time is pain!”

“We’re almost there, Utsuro, just- hey, get your foot off my dash!” Bakugou glowered at his lover as she simply put her other foot up as well. “What the fuck?”

“Shut up, it helps!”

“Damn it, you’re freaking insane right now.”

The rest of the trip to the hospital varied, from bickering to Bakugou trying to comfort her, to Koge begging for distraction in the form of stories or stupid conversation. What was only ten minutes felt like an eternity for both of them, and arriving at the hospital was even worse. Apparently, what Koge was feeling was only stage one of active labor, or that’s what the nurse that got her set up in the Labor and Delivery room called it. After a bit of running some tests and watching Koge’s contractions, they determined that her cervix was only dilated up to six centimeters, and she had another four to go before the birth would begin. Being the stubborn woman that she was, Koge declined the use of epidural, and so she was settled into the room to await the full dilation of her cervix.

Dressed in a gown now, Koge wandered about the room, as sitting didn’t help the pain at all. Bakugou was with her at all times, holding her hands and helping her with whatever she asked for, though it was more like commands. By now, Bakugou’s initial rush had faded, and he was able to think more clearly and calmly to better help Koge cope.

“C’mon, Utsuro, tell me. What do you think he’s gonna look like?”

Breathing heavily as a contraction passed, Koge held onto Bakugou’s hands tightly, leaning forward a bit with her forehead pressed into his chest. “Just like you… He’s going to be your little clone.”

“Same hair and eyes? Everything?”

“Yes.” As the pain subsided for a moment, Koge stood up straight, releasing his hands to instead clutch onto his shirt. Looking up at him, a smile crossed her lips as he gently moved her hair out of her face, releasing the sticky grip of sweat. “Just like you. I’ll have my two beautiful boys, my Katsuki and Matsuki. My fluffy-haired boys.”

With a small chuckle, Bakugou gave her lips a soft kiss, beginning to help her walk backwards again as she winced. “I think he’s gonna have white hair. My style, but your color.”

“No way. I grew him inside me, I know exactly what he’s gonna look like. And it’s gonna be exactly like you, won’t even be able to tell you apart when he’s an adult. Fuck, fuck, fuck that’s a good one, owww!” With his help, Koge squatted down, squeezing his hands tightly. “I hate this! No more babies, not ever!”

“Remember what you said, Utsuro, you always wanted three.”

“I want three without the pain!”

“Well, that’s not gonna happen if you want to birth them yourself. And you refused the pain meds, so you gotta deal with it.”

“Don’t smart-mouth me. I’ll rip your eyeballs out, I swear.”

Before Bakugou could comment, there was a knock on the door, before it opened up to reveal a nurse and some very unexpected company. “Some of your family has arrived, Ms. Naegi, would you like them to come in or wait in the waiting room?”

Peeking up and looking between Bakugou’s legs, Koge’s eyes instantly landed on her mother, who was looking at her with teary eyes. With Bakugou’s help, Koge stood, nodding to allow the nurse to let them in. “Yeah, if they’re family, they can come in. And if someone says their name is Kirishima. Hey, Mama!” Koge hugged her mother tightly as the petite older woman nearly ran up to her.

“Oh, my sweet baby! Are you sure you should be walking around right now, they told me you were almost at eight centimeters by now.” Stroking Koge’s back, she looked up at Bakugou, giving him a smile that greatly resembled her daughters. “Katsuki, you’re being so wonderful.”

“Well, Kozue, she has threatened to rip out my eyes a couple of times, so I have to behave. Not gonna lie, though, I seriously need to take a piss break. Especially before my parents show up, that’ll--”

“Katsuki! How dare you not call us when she went into labor! We had to find out from online!”

The sudden blaring voice of his mother instantly made Bakugou stop, glowering at Mitsuki as she barged in past the nurse to Koge’s side, who was now gripping the end of her bed and leaning forward with another strong contraction. Taking in a deep breath to keep himself from yelling, Bakugou instead looked at his father, feeling a bit of relief at the presence of a man who looked just as bewildered as he felt. Though, as he began to head towards him to hopefully take a break from the madness, Koge called to him, making him stop.

“W-wait, Katsuki, where are you going? Don’t leave me!” The panic and tears streaming down her flushed face made Bakugou’s heart drop, putting his arms around her as she stumbled over to him. “What if I have the baby while you’re gone! Don’t go!”

“Utsuro, you’re being overdramatic, I seriously just need to take a piss and get some air.” Bakugou coaxed her back towards the bed, helping his sobbing lover back up onto it. “What is all this, you’re going from anger to sadness in like three seconds.”

“But I need you! Pee in the pan, please don’t go anywhere. I can’t do this without you.” Instead of laying down, Koge grabbed a pillow, squeezing it tightly to her chest. “Ow fucking hell, I feel like I need to hit something!”

Kozue came to sit beside her daughter. “Koge, baby, let Katsuki go to the bathroom, me and Mitsuki are here for you. We won’t let him miss the baby, okay?” With a wave of her hand and while Koge was busy yelling into the pillow, Bakugou ducked out of the room, leaving the women to deal with the labor pains.

Another four hours went by like this until Koge was to the point that she couldn’t even stand to walk off the pain. By now, the nurse was always present, observing her condition and giving instruction to make sure that things were going as smoothly as they possibly could. Bakugou’s hand was permanently fixed into Koge’s, as she refused to let him go or let him out of her sight for more than a few minutes at a time. She was quite set on the fear that he would leave and then the delivery would happen without him, which was a thought that brought her to tears. Bakugou thought that it was ridiculous, but to keep her calm, he stayed by her side without question.

“Okay, Ms. Naegi,” The nurse began, having just finished with a test to check her dilation. “Looks like you’re at full dilation. You said you’re feeling the need to push, right?”

Koge nodded, sitting up as laying down was very uncomfortable. “Yeah, though it feels more like I have to take a giant shit.”

“That’s normal. Just keep breathing and if you feel the need to push, then you can. I’m going to get the doctor in here so we can start, okay?” With a gentle touch to her arm, the nurse left the couple alone, quietly ushering the parents out.

Once the door closed and they were completely alone, Koge looked up at Bakugou, the tears once again beginning to stream down her face. “It’s about to happen, Katsuki… Our little man is about to be here.”

Knowing that she wasn’t going to let his hand go, Bakugou brought his free one around to push her hair out of her face gently. “You’re doing great, Utsuro… Why are you crying?”

Squeezing his hand tightly as she had another contraction, Koge leaned her head back, wincing and gasping. “I-It hurts. But I’m so happy. Katsuki, you stay right there, I mean it.”

“I couldn’t move even if I wanted to, you’ve got a death grip on my hand right now. Hey, she said it’s alright to push, don’t hold it.” He stood from his chair as Koge did just that, leaning back against the propped up hospital mattress, her cries making his stomach churn. At any second, if he lost even a sliver of control, Bakugou knew that he would vomit. He was so anxious, so filled with a mix of nervous and happy energy that he could hardly take it. Yes, he knew that she was going through way worse, but since he wasn’t distracted by the pain, he was left to his constant worrying thoughts. It was to the point that nothing he did helped her anymore, and he hated to see her in such pain.

As she calmed for the moment, Bakugou knelt beside the bed which had been lowered to accommodate Koge’s height, before leaning forward to give her cheek a comforting kiss. One hand still on the top of her head, he stroked her hair softly, his nerves calmed for just a moment as she smiled up at him. With her tender touch, she stroked his cheek gently, giving a soft and content hum.

“My Katsuki… I love you so much. You mean the world to me.”

Bakugou wasn’t sure if it was her words or how nervous he was, but sitting with her like this filled him with such an intense emotion that he immediately felt like bursting into tears. This woman was his everything, his lover, his best friend and his reason for waking up in the morning. She was love, hope, pride, and beauty. She was his Koge, and out of everything he had ever done or said, she loved him. The burning that built up in his eyes and the way his vision blurred was enough to solidify how much he adored her, and before he could even come up with a response to her, the tears escaped him.

At first, shock crossed Koge’s flushed face before she began to cry again herself, latching her arms around his neck in a tight hug. Hiding his face into her shoulder, Bakugou caressed her petite body as carefully as he could, even though his emotions were so out of control he wanted to squeeze her. Sniffling and trying to clear out his now clogged senses, he struggled to speak, taking in a shaking breath.

“I love you, too. My Koge… More than fucking anything…” The thought of letting her go only made his boiled over emotions begin to steam, unable to pull himself away. “You can do this… We can do this.”

The feeling of her fingers through his hair calmed him enough to finally be able to sit up, his heart fluttering from the smile on her face. Cupping his cheeks softly, she wiped his skin of tears before pulling him in for a kiss. “We got this, Katsuki… Just… hold my hand and I’m sorry if I break your fingers.”

“Utsuro, you could break my arm and I wouldn’t give a shit.”

After a soft giggle, another kiss was shared before Koge suddenly became aware of the pain again, wincing and wiggling as she laid her head back. “Okay, okay Matsuki, I get it, you want all the attention!” In the moment that she cried out and went back to squeezing the life out of Bakugou’s hand, the door to the room opened. Four people came inside, one of them dressed head to toe in protective garb, including a splash mask to protect her eyes. They brought with them supplies, none of which Bakugou could make out, as he was more focused on what they were saying.

“Okay, Ms. Naegi, we’re going to start the delivery now. Keep pushing if you feel the need to while we get set up.”

“Heart rate and blood pressure are good.”

“Positioning is good, no current complications.”

In their practiced and rushed movements, Bakugou didn’t even notice the other person in the room until the familiar voice snapped at him, gaining his attention. “Katsuki, don’t look so emotionless and comatose!”

Glaring at his mother, Bakugou instantly felt his ears flush hot at the camera pointed at him, having not even realized she brought one. “Who let you in?!”

“Me!” Koge wasn’t looking at either of them, but instead focusing on getting her legs into the props as the nurses positioned her for birth. “I asked her to film it.”

“Without asking me?”

“Damn right, because you would have said no! Argh! Katsuki, don’t complain, who gives a shit!” Koge squeezed his hand tightly as she couldn’t resist the urge to push, leaning her head back. “Damn it!”

“Okay, Ms. Naegi, it’s time to push.” The doctor was positioned at the end of the bed between her legs, now. “With your contractions, don’t try to force it.”

Koge had never been in so much pain in her entire life. Pushing that little human through her was something that she could never have prepared for, no matter how many things she read or classes she went to. Every single contraction up to this point was like a little needle prick, though she did have to admit that the effort of pushing helped quell the initial pain. She could feel that she was drenched in sweat, head pounding and jaw sore from clenching her teeth.

Everything vanished in an instant when there was a sudden feeling of emptiness and a warm, wiggly weight was placed on her chest. Crying with an incredibly strong set of lungs, the little Matsuki had been delivered into the world. As the nurses worked to wipe him clean as he rested on Koge, she could only sit there and stare down at him, panting.

“Here’s your sweet little boy! What is his name?”

“M-Matsuki.” Koge was able to choke out, between her heavy breathing and tears. “My Matsuki.” When the nurses finally backed off for a bit, Koge shifted the baby up just a bit higher on her chest to be more comfortable, looking up at Bakugou with a wide smile on her flushed face. “Our Matsuki.”

Bakugou was only pulled out of his stunned state by her smile, that burning returning to his eyes as he looked at her. Sniffling, he quickly reached up and wiped his eyes, overwhelmed with happiness and excitement at the birth of his son. “You fucking did it, Koge. You did it!” After kissing her with an excited passion, he turned his attention back to the still screaming child in her arms. The smile on his face was something that couldn’t be stopped, nor could he resist rubbing the child’s back softly, even if he was covered with a blanket.

“Our little squid… He even looked like one coming out, Utsuro, just wait until you see it.”

“I love him. My little darling.” Stroking the babies arm softly, she softly hummed and tried to calm him, finding that she was successful quite quickly. Matsuki calmed, only giving little gurgles as he grew comfortable against his mother. Giving a heavy sigh, Koge leaned her head back, closing her eyes as a feeling of relief and calmness washed over her. “Katsuki… now comes the true hard part. For both of us.”

Softly moving her hair out of her face, Bakugou kissed her lips softly, before resting his forehead against hers. “Whatever comes, Utsuro, we’ll do it together… All the sleepless nights and dirty diapers in the world couldn’t stop me from loving you both.”

New tears cascading down her cheeks, Koge smiled nearly from ear to ear, nuzzling her nose against his affectionately. “My sweet Katsuki…”

Sniffling and soft sobbing from the other side of the bed caught their attention, and Bakugou instantly felt his face flush with fire at the fact that his mother was still filming them. “Hey, Mom, get that off of us!”

“No way!” Mitsuki wiped her eyes, near sobbing herself. “My boy, being sweet! I have to get it all! And my beautiful grandbaby!”

Giggling softly, Koge kissed Bakugou’s cheek to gain his attention. “It’s okay, Katsuki… I know I’ll never forget this moment, but… I really wanted it on camera.”

Bakugou looked back down at the baby, feeling himself calm just from the presence of the child and the happiness of the occasion. “Okay, okay… It’s worth it.”

“It is… So worth it.”

The rest of the process came and went, with the baby being taken away to be cleaned, checked and wrapped up for warmth. Koge went through the rest of her steps as well, delivering the placenta with no difficulties. Once mother and child were both cleaned up and deemed healthy enough with no signs of issues, the two of them were moved into a recovery room. The first thing the nurses suggested was to have Koge breastfeed if she wanted, which after an assisted trip to the bathroom, she took the opportunity without hesitation.

“He’s so squishy, I don’t know how to… move him.” Koge carefully handled the child in her hands, shifting her clothing aside to maneuver him to her right breast. Quite instantly, the child latched on, bringing a new smile to Koge’s face. “That’s it, little man. Get it.”

Bakugou chuckled, sitting next to her on the edge of the bed. “Look at him go. He’s a natural, I guess.”

“I’m the one that’s gonna need practice.” Koge shifted her position just a bit, though did her best to not disturb Matsuki. “Look at him, he’s the most adorable thing ever! I love him so much.” She lied her head on Bakugou’s shoulder as he stroked her hair gently, both of them watching their child nurse.

“Me too, Utsuro.” Seeing some movement through the window in the hospital room door, Bakugou glanced up, noticing a raven head of hair dash out of view in that same instant. With a sigh, he kissed Koge’s head softly before standing. “Looks like there are people that want to come in. How are you feeling?”

“I feel great, Katsuki. It’s okay, you can let them in.”

“You’re not embarrassed about having the baby on your tit?”

Giggling, Koge shook her head. “No love, not at all. They can’t see anything anyway. Let them in before they have a heart attack.” Making sure that at least her other breast was covered and that Matsuki was comfortable, she watched Bakugou as he made his way to the door, opening it just a crack at first. He hissed something at everyone, probably telling them to keep it down before he allowed them in.

Seijirou was the first, hands over his mouth as he excitedly entered the room, nearly hopping. “Oooh my goodness, look at the baby!” The quiet, excited squeal told Koge that Bakugou did tell them to be quiet. “Doey, look!” Dokuji barely got one glance in before he looked away, face flushing at the fact that Koge was basically nude. Next was Mitsuki and Masaru, then Koge’s parents Kozue and Ryuji, followed by Nene and Kirishima with little twins Otoha and Daiki in their father’s arms.

“Ko-Chan! I can’t believe it! Finally, we’re mommies together!” Nene quietly came up next to the bed, sitting down next to her best friend. Koge couldn’t get rid of the smile on her face, glancing up at everyone as they came at varying distances to see the still nursing baby. Bakugou seemed more wary of the company than Koge felt, wanting to share the experience with everyone. Sure, she may not want anyone to hold the baby just yet, but having everyone sit like this with her felt like such a blessing. Everything had gone perfectly, and now she could only expect that the happiest years of her life were to follow.

“Thank you, Ne-Chan. And thank you, everyone, for coming to visit. I promise everyone will get a chance to cuddle him, but he’s all mine right now.” Koge looked down at Matsuki, softly stroking the top of his hand. “My adorable Matsu… Gonna look just like his Daddy.”

“Aw C’mon, Koge, don’t curse the kid like that.” Seijirou joked with a smirk, ignoring the fuming Bakugou across the bed from him. “That’s the worst you could have happen!”

“Shut up, you kook!” Bakugou snapped, able to keep his voice surprisingly low. “Before I kick your stupid ass out of here!”

Koge laughed softly, watching Otoha as the young girl looked at the new baby curiously from her place upon Nene’s lap. “What do you think, little Otoha? Is Matsuki gonna be your best friend? Bestest friend in the whole world?”

Nene giggled, giving Bakugou a sly smile. “The baby talk begins. You make fun of us for it, but you’ll see! You’ll forget how to talk like an adult.”

Before Bakugou could snap back, Matsuki began to cry, bringing forth ‘aww’s from nearly everyone in the room. Adjusting her gown back into place, Koge looked up at Bakugou. “Katsuki, would you-?”

Understanding, Bakugou nodded and scooped the child into his arms. Even though it wasn’t his first time, the emotion at holding his son swept through him again, forcing him to turn his back to the group so they wouldn’t see it. He bounced and rocked the child softly, hushing him quietly with every bounce. “It’s alright, squid, I gotcha.”

“I can’t believe I’m watching my son bounce a baby, let alone his own child! I never thought I’d see the day!” Mitsuki lied her head on Masaru’s shoulder, hugging his arm tightly. “It’s the cutest damn thing! Isn’t it, honey?”

Nodding, Masaru removed his glasses, his own eyes tearing up. “It’s adorable.”

“You two shut it! Enough mushy crap!” Bakugou hissed at them over his shoulder, still trying to calm the crying baby. With a happy sigh, Koge leaned back into her mattress, starting to truly feel exhausted without the baby in her arms.

“It is adorable… He’s going to be a great father…” As her eyes closed, Nene stood with Otoha in her arms, looking over to Kirishima as the redhead wiggled over to Bakugou to see the baby.

“Hey, we were all complaining about being hungry a minute ago, why don’t we go get something to eat and let Koge nap for a little while? Then we can come back. I know I needed a nap immediately after giving birth.” Nene nuzzled her nose against her daughter's cheek, making the little girl giggle. Giving Bakugou a soft pat to his shoulder, Kirishima joined his wife.

“I agree, baby. I think she’s already out of it.” With a sharp-toothed grin, Kirishima pointed down at Koge, who was clearly already asleep.

Tenderly fixing Koge’s sheets up over her, Kozue gave her daughter a gentle kiss on the top of her head before turning her attention to Bakugou. “We’ll be back to let her rest.”

“Yeah, then it’s our turn for the baby.” Mitsuki began to leave with a gentle touch from Masaru. “I want to hold my grandson!”

“You’ll hold him when I say so.” Bakugou’s glare didn’t back down as everyone filed back out of the room, with Kozue being the last. Before she left, she smiled at Bakugou sweetly, calming him for the moment.

“You all get some rest. Thank you for being so good to her, Katsuki. No one else in this world is better suited for her than you, and I’m so happy you’re together.”

Swallowing the emotional lump in his throat, Bakugou gave a nod in understanding, finding it difficult to respond with words. With that, Kozue left the room, shutting the door softly behind her. The new silence bringing peace to his mind, Bakugou looked down at Matsuki, who had fallen asleep in his arms. As carefully as he could, Bakugou laid the child down in the bassinet next to Koge’s bed, giving a soft sigh of relief when the child didn’t wake. Though, his lover did, lifting her head a bit to glance around.

“Huh? Where’d everyone go? Did I fall asleep?” She looked up at Bakugou as he sat down beside her, taking her hand gently. After sharing a quick kiss, Koge shifted her body over, giving him room to lay down beside her without any cords getting in the way. Bakugou took the silent invitation gladly, carefully caressing her body to his once they grew nice and comfortable.

“Yeah Utsuro, everyone left just a second ago to go get something to eat.”

“You didn’t want to go with them? You have to be hungry by now.” Koge softly ran her hand along the skin of his arm, smiling against his lips as he kept his face close to hers. “I would let you go now… If you wanted.”

“No way.” Bakugou caressed her cheek, looking into her eyes with such an uncharacteristic softness that Koge couldn’t help but wiggle herself in closer. “I couldn’t be away from you even if I wanted to.”

“You’re so sweet, Katsuki... I love you.” With another kiss, Koge nuzzled her face against his, settling in with her eyes closed. “I love you so much.”

Bakugou grew comfortable as well, moving his hand back down to hold her body to his. “I love you too, Koge. Now get some sleep… We’ll have lots of ‘family bonding’ to do when you get up.”

“It’s always been my dream to have a family with you… I’m so happy.”

“Me too… I’ve always known that you’d be the one I get to call my lover… and the mother of my children. For my family, there’s nothing I want more...”

#bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bakugou x oc #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #oc #original character #koge #bakugou x koge #bnha fanfiction #fanfiction #bnha writing blog #cutesuki-oc #pregnancy

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hforhonesty · 5 years

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Book Review #1 | Carry On by Rainbow Rowell

“Half the time, Simon can’t even make his wand work, and the other half, he sets something on fire. His mentor’s avoiding him, his girlfriend broke up with him, and there’s a magic-eating monster running around wearing Simon’s face. Baz would be having a field day with all this, if he were here—it’s their last year at the Watford School of Magicks, and Simon’s infuriating nemesis didn’t even bother to show up.” [official synopsis of the book]

Full title: “Carry On: The rise and Fall of Simon Snow.”

Or, as I often refer to it, the death of me.

I can already hear my friend A. complaining that I read this book at least twice a year – which is odd, I get it, but I also can't help it. She says that I'm obsessed with it...

... She’s right. But there's a reason if the motto of my brand new blog is "H for Honesty", so I promise that I won't let my obsession take over the review. Scout's honor!

Anyway, we have to straighten some things out before we settle down to work, since I know that there are people out there who are not appealed by this book because of its similiarities with the Harry Potter Saga.

The Chosen One and the prophecy themes, the analogies between characters such as Penelope Bunch and Hermione Granger, the Drarry vibes, the English school of magic...

So if you want to complain about these similiarities, then stop reading, watching tv shows and movies or even breathing because, guess what?, it's literally impossible not to be influenced by others, especially if you are a writer.

I think that inspiration is good; it means that you've reached the heart of your readers and left a permanent mark on it. As a wanna-be writer I can only aspire to do such a great thing as inspiring someone to the point that they want to share their own stories.

Speaking of Rainbow Rowell being inspired by Jk Rowling, well, it doesn't mean that she plagiarised her work – far from it. Rainbow's World of Mages is something fresh, modern, unexplored. It has cliches just like any other great story, but instead of running in circles it goes beyond them.

This is why the first character I want to introduce is Agatha Wellbelove, who’s supposed to play the role of the protagonist’s love interest. I’m gonna be honest with you guys – I didin’t like her at first, like not at all.

It’s hard to explain without spoiling the book but I’ll try my best, alright?

Agatha is the only daughter of one of the richest and most important families of the world of mages. Her father is a doctor and her mother is very invested in the social part of their community, hence the charity works such as having poor, orphan Simon stay at their house during Christmas break.

Beautiful, popular, kind. She had to be all these things for her whole life because everything had already been set up for her. Even her relationship with Simon was inevitable. I know it’s silly but think of Shrek: like Fiona, she had to play the role of the damsel in distress locked in the highest tower of the castle, awaiting for her knight in his shiny armour... only to be his reward at the end of the story, when the magical war is over... if he manages to survive.

But Agatha is more than that.

“Lucy disappeared?” I say.

“Worse,” Mum says. “She ran away. From magic. Can you imagine?”

“Yes,” I say, then, “no.”

She wants to spend time with her normal friends, go to a normal school, be a normal person without the burden of magic on her shoulders. But she can’t, of course, because everyone would think that she’s insane, so she’s stuck in a world where she doesn’t belong.

Magic is a religion.

But there’s no such thing as not believing – or only going through the motions on Easter and Christmas. Your whole life has to revolve around magic all the time. If you’re born with magic, you’re stuck with it, and you’re stuck with other magicians, and you’re stuck with wars that never end because people don’t even know when they started.

I honestly didn’t understand her character at first, because c’mon, if someone came to me and told me that I could attend Hogwarts/Watford and have magical powers if I wanted, I wouldn’t even hesitate to answer hell, yeah. But this is another matter, ofc.

The point is that Rainbow Rowell’s characters are what I’d like (and dare) to define «the apotheosis of relatability». They are not just fictional characters. When they think, when they talk, when they act... they seem extremely human in my head, they seem to bloody exist, as if they weren’t made of paper...

I think that this effect is mostly due the fact that the book was written in first person singular. Yeah, I know that most people avoid this type of point of view like the plague, but believe me when I say that Carry on is 100% worth it.

Every chapter mirrors the thoughts of the main characters, from Simon’s to the Mage’s, and is shaped by them. For instance:

When Simon is talking, his words are articulated in short and/or mostly broken sentences.

He doesn’t reply – he must still be working up to a bluster.

Snow blusters like no one else. But! I mean! Um! It’s just! It’s no wonder he can never spit out a spell.

When he’s thinking, the pages are filled with long and elaborated phrases, which can be seen especially in the first chapters of the book;

Baz, on the other hand, has the opposite problem. He comes up with the most complex sentences when he’s speaking, while his thoughts are often interrupted by the use of round brakets, which is undoubtedly of my favourite features of his chapters.

So even though he seems this cool and charming and extremely confident and super duper talented and handsome magician, this is just his façade. In reality, he’s the type of guy who would rather be alone during meals because he’s too self-conscious and doesn’t want his family to see the fangs that come through when he’s eating.

It’s no secret that Baz is very secretive when it comes to his feelings or anything that concerns his private sphere, as he always weighs his words before he speaks up. But when the crosstalk is between him and Simon, there’s literally nothing in the world that Baz loves more than teasing him.

“I know what you are,” I snarled.

His eyes locked onto mine. “Your roommate?”

I shook my head and squeezed the hilt of my sword.

Baz stepped into my reach. “Tell me,” he spat.

I couldn’t.

“Tell me, Snow.” He stepped even closer. “What am I?”

I growled again and raised the blade an inch. “Vampire! I shouted. He must have felt the force of my breath on his face.

He started giggling. “Really? You think I’m a vampire? Well, Aleister Crowley, what are you going to do about that?”

I love the dynamics between Baz and Simon because their relationship is so genuine and thriving, absolutely compelling. You can see the deep impact that they have on each other from page one. Yes, they are roommates (oh my god, they are roommates), but they are enemies too, so they don’t really know how to deal with each other beyond their rivalry, especially when they have to team up against a common enemy.

These dynamics are way funnier when you consider that they concern a third character too. Yes, this is the moment I introduce you to the person that was recently hospitalized due to severe back pains caused by the burden of carrying Simon Snow’s bullshit on her shoulders from day one: Penelope Bunce.

She told me later that her parents had told her to steer clear of me at school. “My mum said that nobody really knew where you came from. And that you might be dangerous.”

“Why didn’t you listen to her?” I asked.

“Because nobody knew where you came from, Simon! And you might be dangerous!”

“You have the worst survival instincts.”

“Also, I felt sorry for you,” she said. “You were holding your hand backwards.”

As you can see, I love Penny. She’s clever, she’s talented, she’s this amazing young woman who is not afraid to walk with you toward eternal damnation or help you hide a corpse or do both at the same time. Because she’s all that – and more than that. She’s everything.

Penny is the kind of person who, right after you say that “curiosity killed the cat”, would rejoin that “satisfaction brought it back”. She is exactly the character that I needed as a role model during both my childhood and my adolescence: stubborn, curious, terribly ambitious... For some time I had been convinced that these were negative traits, but it’s mostly thanks to Penny that I’ve started to realise that they are good qualities instead.

I see a lot of myself in Penelope, and I could never thank Rainbow Rowell enough for creating her characters.

I could never thank Rainbow enough for writing about this amazing world and sharing it with us. And I will never stop thanking her for deciding to give us a sequel, Wayward son.

In the meanwhile, thank you. Yes, you: the person reading this review. I hope you enjoyed it! If so, follow me for new pieces :)

With love,

M.C.

P.S. I apologise for the inappropriate use of the editor but it appears that tumblr hates me.

P.P.S. My friend A. says hi – and wants you to know that the only reason she can stand the Mage is because his name is David... you know, like David Dobrik. I can’t even.

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find-the-eyes · 5 years

Text

I’ll Try Anything Once: Chapter 27

Written by: Sol Edited by: ss, Allegra

Finally, it was the night of the gig. As the band approached the building that supposedly encased the flat, Paul immediately recognized it.

“This is…” Paul hesitated, “...never mind.” He clutched his bag nervously, obviously knowing something that the others didn’t.

The others looked at him curiously, still waiting for the front door to be unlocked. As the front door of the building opened, the boys realized it wasn’t a flat complex at all. It looked more like a movie set than anything, just a completely open space with various rooms of a home spread out throughout it. Nick spotted something small and furry scurrying across the floor.

“Rats?” Nick asked himself quietly as he saw a few more running around.

Paul stayed silent, but the expression on his face said it all. He knew what this place was. As a familiar figure emerged from the darkness, Alex and Bob exchanged a knowing glance.

“Welcome!” Dino exclaimed with open arms.

Alex groaned loudly. Bob and Paul were silent, the latter suddenly looking pale. Meanwhile Nick was his usual wide-eyed, quiet self. A vice-like grip on Alex's shoulder made him turn his head. It was Bob.

“Why didn’t you tell us it was his flat?” he hissed.

“I didn’t know, I swear! I thought we’d be at...never mind.” Alex shook his head. No use in arguing now, they had a show to start.

“Come in, I’ll show you the stage,” Dino said as he welcomed the boys to the ‘flat.’ He had even more rats on himself than usual, including one perched on his shoulder and one nesting in his hair. As they made their way backstage, a few more rats crossed their path. Nick was entranced by the rats, but Alex made sure to hold him back from chasing them around the building. Alex’s mind was racing with questions, from ‘how many rats live here?’ to ‘how do you get the rats to sleep in your pockets?’. After dropping off their instruments backstage, Alex couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Wait, so you just live in a fuckin’ warehouse?”

“You could call it that,” Dino smirked. Alex clenched his fist behind his back, fighting the urge to punch Dino right in his stupid nose. “Let me show you around.”

Dino led the boys through the building, occasionally stopping to introduce them to various rats. “This is Peanut, my right hand rat.” Dino pulled a tan-colored rat out of his pocket. “Or, I should say, right pocket rat.”

Nick reached out to pat Peanut, but Alex forced his arm back down.

“He can pet her, Alex. She’s friendly.”

Alex sighed and let go of Nick’s arm. Nick gently patted Peanut. “So soft…”

“Yep! I take care of my rats. They’re all rescues, mostly special needs rats. They’ve all earned the luxurious life they now live.” Dino smiled smugly and let Peanut climb to his shoulder. Nick noticed that the rat only had one ear and giggled. Peanut’s nose twitched as she brushed her face with her paw.

A few places behind the others, Bob nudged Paul, curious about his thoughts. “You hooked up with this guy?”

Paul only managed an embarrassed nod and kept walking, following Dino on his tour of the warehouse. Bob noted that for someone who had been to Dino’s weird place before, Paul sure was as surprised as the rest of the group.

“Please tell me the rats weren’t there when you…” Bob tried to look for the right word but decided to drop the question instead. “Never mind. Forget I said that.”

“I can’t tell you they weren’t there,” Paul said with a sigh, though his eyes were roaming from one point of the room to the other. “They’re everywhere. And they were everywhere.” Bob winced.

Just then, both Bob and Paul spotted a statue near a loveseat that didn’t match the rest of the interior in that room.

“What’s that?” Bob asked Paul, trying to steer the conversation away from Paul and Dino hooking up. Paul only shrugged at Bob’s question. “What do you mean you don’t know, you’ve been here before?”

“No. I mean yes. But no, not like… this.” Paul waved his arms around. “When I came here, I swear the flat wasn’t even as big as ours!”

Bob, while confused, noted how Paul had referred to their shared flat as ours out loud. He smiled to himself despite how nervous he felt inside. Doing their first gig was nerve-wracking enough, but the fact that it was in Dino’s flat, gross-but-hot Dino’s flat, wasn’t helping at all.

“What isn’t big?” Dino sauntered into the conversation, hands in his pockets, petting the two rats within. Bob had to admit that the second appearance of his magenta skinny jeans was something he was quite pleased to see, but he quickly reminded himself that not even Dino’s slender and lean legs could excuse his creepy behavior.

“Your flat,” Paul answered. “The fuck is all this?”

“Well, Paul, let me demonstrate.” Dino walked over to the makeshift bar area. He knocked on the wall and started sliding it around, before eventually setting it back in place. “Kind of like the Sims, when you make the house, y’know?”

“Oh...you know, that’s actually impressive.” Paul nodded and nudged Bob, trying to suppress a flustered laugh.

“Thanks. When you came over, my friend had just thrown a wild party...” Dino gave Paul a wink before continuing, “...and we hadn’t cleaned up yet, so I just covered the rest of the area except the bedroom.”

“Okay...” Paul’s initial amused manner quickly dropped. Dino, being Dino, didn’t seem to take the hint.

“So, how about after the gig I’ll show you something else that’s big...” Dino leaned in closer to Paul, his eyebrows wiggling. This time Paul didn’t react positively to Dino’s advances. Before he could reject the offer Bob stepped in, to all of their surprise.

“I don’t think he wants that,” Bob said, his voice trembling partly from annoyance and partly from his nerves. “You can keep the rats to yourself.”

Dino raised an eyebrow and looked at Bob and Paul back to back. “Ah...Alright, alright. I see. Yes, I get it now...” the curly haired man muttered to himself. Bob and Paul glanced at each other at the man’s weird reaction, but decided not to bother with it. Fortunately for them, they were the band that was performing tonight. So Dino, being the host, quickly ushered them back to the stage area. After the band returned from sound check, Dino busied himself introducing Nick to the various rats around the warehouse.

“This one’s named Hydrox!” Dino scooped up a black and white rat that was scurrying near his feet. Nick patted the rat’s head. Upon looking closer, Nick noticed that the rat only had three paws. They moved onto the next rat that passed by, with Nick patting along and genuinely enjoying Dino’s very extended introduction to his furry friends.

“I really hope Nick doesn’t start hoarding rats after this,” Alex sighed, watching the proceedings while perched on the edge of the stage, “but at least he’s talking to someone.”

“Maybe we should tell him to come back soon,” Bob replied as he practiced a bass tab. If there was someone who was going to mess up on that stage, Bob wanted to make sure it wouldn’t be him.

“They’ll come back eventually,” Alex shrugged.

After a few minutes, Nick came back, thankfully rat-free. Dino’s supposed flatmate from painting class was still nowhere to be seen. Luckily, after one final warm-up, people started arriving. It was a real concert, after all. Backstage, Alex was helping Bob review his bass tabs again. “Not too fast on this one,” he reassured Bob as he played. Nick and Paul were practicing elsewhere.

Finally, the moment arrived. The boys walked onto the stage and took their places at their instruments. The hum of chatter from the small crowd died down and a hush fell over the room.

“Ehm...hello,” Alex said into the microphone, voice wavering slightly. “We’re Franz Ferdinand and this is a song called ‘Darts of Pleasure’.” Alex peered over his shoulder at Paul, who took a deep breath and launched into the disco beat, and they were off.

As soon as they went onstage, Alex saw something change in Nick. There was energy in his body and finally, life in his deep blue eyes. Unlike the rest of the band, Nick didn’t look at the crowd, but rather, through it. He didn’t care how many people were watching him in the crowded room in the warehouse. He just knew that he wanted to play music and make people happy.

Alex occasionally snuck a glance at Nick, watching how he played with such energy that he was nearly vibrating. He then would look over at Bob and see that he wasn’t forgetting any of his bass tabs. He gave him reassuring smiles throughout the set, although Bob rarely expressed any emotion and Alex had no idea how he was feeling. Alex just hoped that Paul wasn’t doing anything stupid behind him.

After their final song, the boys gathered offstage. Alex felt energized and alive, his entire body buzzing. Paul and Bob packed up quietly, though both were smiling. Nick was immediately back to being quiet. He packed up his guitar and stood next to Alex, wanting to nudge his shoulder and ask to go home, as if he hadn’t just done something extremely out of character. Or... maybe it was in character. Alex glanced over at Nick. "Ready to go?" Nick nodded blankly. The band loaded their instruments back into Alex’s car and set off toward Bob and Paul’s flat. After dropping off Paul and Bob and their instruments, Nick and Alex headed home.

“You alright?” Nick nodded blankly again. Alex frowned and glanced over at him. “You looked great up there, you know.”

The corners of Nick’s mouth turned up slightly at this. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

What was Nick’s deal? Nick had looked so alive on that stage. So...normal. More animated than Alex had ever seen him. But the way he was acting know was as if nothing had happened. Why couldn’t Nick always be like that? Alex pulled into a parking spot and turned the car off, looking over at Nick again. He had closed his eyes and was resting his head against the window, lips parted. Alex smiled at the sight. He wanted answers, but right now, this was all he needed.

#franz ferdinand #illtryanythingonce #allfanfic

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aliteraryprincess · 5 years

Photo

Blanca & Roja by Anna-Marie McLemore

Warning: Contains spoilers

Welcome back to Fairy Tale Friday! This has been in the works since late January, and now it’s finally getting posted. Yay! Today we’re looking at the first “Snow White and Rose Red” retelling of this feature. It’s also the first retelling of this tale that I’ve ever read. Blanca & Roja has elements of Swan Lake as well. I’ll talk about this a little, but I’m not going to focus on it too much since it isn’t technically a fairy tale (it is my favorite ballet though).

As a Retelling:

“Snow White and Rose Red” is different from other tales I’ve discussed in this feature because it doesn’t have basis in any oral folklore. The original story, called “The Ungrateful Dwarf,” was written Caroline Stahl, and the Grimms later adapted it. They added elements such as the bear prince and the marriages at the end, and this became the best-known version of the tale. This is the version McLemore draws off the most, but one thing she uses from Stahl’s is the family set up. In the Grimms’ version, Snow White and Rose Red live only with their widowed mother. In Stahl’s story, the girls are part of a large family. McLemore takes this approach; though Blanca and Roja are the only two children in their immediate branch of the del Cisne family, both of their parents are alive and they have many aunts, uncles, and cousins.

McLemore’s sisters are set up much in the same way the Grimms’ are. Blanca--Snow White--is the softer of the two, helping her mother around the house and doing everything possible to protect her younger sister. Roja--Rose Red--is fierce and has a temper; instead of learning domestic tasks, her father teaches her to use her anger, fight, and ask questions. Their differences are highlighted in their appearances; Blanca has golden hair and light skin while Roja has deep red hair and dark skin. However, despite being so different, they are extremely close. There is a curse on the women in the del Cisne family: there will always be two daughters, but one will always turn into a swan. Blanca and Roja are determined to avoid this curse and both remain human. In the Grimm tale, Snow White and Rose Red make a promise to never desert each other, and their mother comments, “Whatever one gets she shall share with the other.” We see a version of this in the way Blanca and Roja try to put off the curse. They try to make themselves so similar that los cisnes--the swans--won’t be able to tell them apart. Blanca eats red rose petals and prickly leaves while Roja eats white petals and rounded leaves. Blanca wears a red ribbon in her hair and Roja wears a white one. The idea is that the things associated with the opposite sister will balance out their personalities, making Roja softer and Blanca sharper.

The bear prince of this book is Barclay Holt, a boy from a wealthy family. After fighting with his cousin, Barclay goes into the woods near the girls’ house and transforms into a bear. In the Grimm version of the fairy tale, the bear comes to the cottage door one winter night wanting to warm himself. He befriends both girls and their mother and continues to come each evening of the winter. In the novel, Roja finds Barclay in bear form rooting around for food near the house. She feeds him and the two form an instant connection. Unlike in the fairy tale, Blanca has very little to do with Barclay while he is a bear. She has her own animal companion, a cygnet who turns out to be Barclay’s best friend, Page. Another major difference is the timing of him turning back into a human. In the fairy tale, this does not happen until the end of the story when the bear prince kills the dwarf who transformed him and stole his treasure. Barclay becomes a human again very early on and doesn’t live with the girls until after this transformation occurs.

As a child, I always found the marriages at the end of this fairy tale a bit disappointing for two reasons. First, there are two sisters but only one bear prince. They obviously can’t both marry him, despite him saying at one point, “Snow White and Rose Red, don’t beat your lover dead.” So Snow White marries the bear prince, who they have both become close with over the winter, and Rose Red marries his brother who she has never met. And even though it’s really common for fairy tale heroines to marry men they don’t know at all, it bothered me here because one of them does marry a man she has a strong relationship with. My second issue was that it’s Snow White who marries the bear prince. I always felt that it should be Rose Red because she is the more adventurous and wild of the two. McLemore fixes both of these issues. Though Blanca does pursue Barclay for her own reasons (more on that later), he is clearly Roja’s love interest. The prince’s brother of the fairy tale is changed to his best friend, Page, and McLemore develops her character and her relationship with Blanca beautifully. Page is transgender and non-binary and alternates between between he/him and she/her pronouns throughout the book. I’ll be using she/her since that’s what Blanca uses for her most of the time. Page actually has her own subplot based on a completely different fairy tale: “The Ugly Duckling.”

The sisters of the fairy tale have an ideal relationship with no conflict between them. Blanca and Roja, though they are close, do have the conflict of the curse. Most in the family think Roja will be the one to turn into a swan, and both girls are very aware of this. When los cisnes finally arrive, Blanca is told that she can save herself by getting a blue-eyed boy to fall in love with her. When Barclay transforms back into a human, she sees he has blue eyes. Instead of trying to win him to save herself, Blanca makes a deal with los cisnes: if she gets Barclay to fall in love with her, Roja will remain human and Blanca will turn into a swan. However, she doesn’t tell Roja about this. When Roja finds out about what Blanca was told and sees what’s happening, she believes Blanca has abandoned her and is trying to save herself. As a result, she tries to make herself more like Blanca in an effort to get Barclay to fall in love with her instead. This is where the Swan Lake aspect of the novel comes in. In the ballet, Odette--the Swan Queen--has been transformed into a swan and the only way to break the curse is for someone to swear to love her forever. She and Prince Siegfried fall in love, but the evil sorcerer Rothbart uses magic to make his daughter Odile--the Black Swan--appear like Odette. At a ball, Siegfried declares his love for Odile believing she is Odette, thus dooming the real Odette to remain a swan forever. So both girls are trying to get a declaration of love out of Siegfried, just as Blanca and Roja are both trying to get Barclay to fall in love with them. The parallels between Odette and Odile are further drawn in the climax of the novel when both sisters transform into swans; Blanca becomes a white swan and Roja becomes a black one.

Another major difference between “Snow White and Rose Red” and Blanca & Roja is the antagonists. The antagonist of the fairy tale is the dwarf who the girls try to help in the second half of the tale, though he doesn’t actually do much in the story. They continually find him trapped and free him twice by cutting his beard and once by pulling him away from from an eagle, ripping his coat in the process. Instead of being grateful, he is angry and berates them. The final time they meet him, the bear prince appears and attacks him. The dwarf tries to convince him to eat the girls, but this does not work. It is then revealed that the dwarf is the one who turned the prince into a bear and stole his treasure. The main antagonists in the novel are los cisnes, which are a complete creation of McLemore’s. The driving force behind everything that happens is Blanca and Roja trying to avoid their family’s curse. However, I think there is a subtle equivalent of the dwarf in the form of Barclay’s cousin Liam, who acts as a secondary antagonist. Barclay discovers some illegal things his family has done and has proof. Liam wants to make sure this proof never gets out. He seriously injures Barclay when they fight about it, and this leads Barclay to go to the woods and transform into a bear. As I said, it’s very subtle and maybe not an absolutely direct comparison, but in a way Liam causes the transformation just as the dwarf causes the bear prince’s. Barclay’s proof of his family’s activities can be viewed as the treasure the dwarf steals from the bear prince.

My Thoughts:

Everything about this book is gorgeous, including the writing and the cover, but my favorite part is the relationships. And not just the romantic ones, but also the family relationships and the friendships. McLemore does a beautiful job developing them and making them deep. The major crux of the story is obviously the relationship between the sisters, and I think she does a great job portraying how siblings can be close and love each other but also feel jealous and resentful. I also thought the friendship between Barclay and Page was wonderful. McLemore gives it the same importance as the romantic relationships, which I really appreciate. I think that all too often fiction portrays romantic relationships as better and of more value than friendships, and that simply isn’t true.

As I’ve said in other posts, I’m always happy to find LGBT+ fairy tale retellings. This is actually the first book I’ve read with a major non-binary character. I’m obviously not able to judge how accurate the representation is since I’m not trans or non-binary. However, in her author’s note, McLemore does mention that her husband identifies as transgender and non-binary and taught her about the complexities of gender identity. We see Page struggle with other people’s reactions to her identity and yearn for acceptance, especially from her family. We also see how important it is to respect a person’s pronouns and to just ask when in doubt. This is what Blanca does, and it means so much to Page. There is also major Latinx representation, and it is own voices as McLemore is Latina. Again, her author’s note has some interesting insights into this aspect of the novel; she discusses the way Latina women are pitted against each other and the implications of the idea of “getting a blue-eyed boy,” which was actually said to her when she was young. It’s great to see racial diversity in fairy tale retellings since it’s a genre typically based on European tales featuring white characters. I really hope McLemore will write more retellings!

My only problem with the book is that I found it confusing at times. This was really more of an issue toward the beginning of the book. It features four first-person narrators, and I did sometimes have trouble keeping track of which POV I was on. There are also some confusing jumps in time. Something would be happening in the present, then the narrative would move on to something that occurred in the past. Ultimately, I figured it out and it didn’t detract from my enjoyment of the book. But I thought it would be worth mentioning since there were several occasions when I said, “Wait, what?” and had to reread.

My Rating: 4 stars

Other Reading Recommendations:

The starred titles are ones I have read myself. The others are ones I want to read and may end up being future Fairy Tale Friday books. Since this is the first retelling I’ve read of this tale and the first book I’ve read by McLemore, there aren’t many starred titles.

Other Retellings of “Snow White and Rose Red”:

Snow White and Rose Red by Patricia C. Wrede

The Shadow of the Bear by Regina Doman

Tender Morsels by Margo Lanagan

Twin Roses by Sarah Cross

Snow & Rose by Emily Winfield Martin

Other Books by Anna-Marie McLemore:

Wild Beauty

The Weight of Feathers

When the Moon was Ours

About the Fairy Tale:

“History of ‘Snow White and Rose Red’” by Sarah Viehmann*

Have a recommendation for me to read or a suggestion to make Fairy Tale Friday better? Feel free to send me an ask!

#booklr #book photography #blanca & roja #anna-marie mclemore #aliteraryprincess fairy tale friday #snow white and rose red #fairy tale retellings #books

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jadekitty777 · 5 years

Note

Are you waiting to be asked about Team STRQ? I'll bite. Team STRQ for the character ask meme.

You know it! Although I’mhaving a lot of fun with all of them.

Unsurprisingly doing four of my top favorites all at oncegot long, so I’m putting it under a read more.

Taiyang Xiao Long(YEAH BABY THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!)

· Favorite thingabout them: Everything. Alright,alright – anyone who has spent five seconds with me knows he’s my ultimatefavorite, I’ll try not to be TOO biased. I think what I like the most about Taiis that, while he has a bit of a fiery nature to him, overall, he seems like sucha gentle soul. He’s not afraid to be a little cheesy when it comes to praisinghis girls. He loves doting on them if the opportunity arrives (breakfast in bedfor Ruby, anyone?). He’s also not afraid to push them, yet still tries to be kindin his methods.

· Least favoritething about them: To be honest, while it’s absolutely understandable and realisticto how many parents do act in these situations, I wish Tai had been moreforthcoming about Raven when it came to talking to Yang about her (granted ifhe was, it would certainly lessen the impact of Yang’s own character arc, but Idigress). Keeping her completely in the dark is part of what leads his eldestinto her obsession with knowing more.

When the conversation finallydoes happen, I do like that Tai does his best to not badmouth Raven, which willallow for Yang to make her own decisions on what she thinks of Raven as aperson when she ultimately finds her – as he knows she will.

· Favorite line: Oooh Taiyang’skind of a walking Chinese proverb, so it’s a little hard to pick. I’m going togo with: “You’re right, it’s not coming back… but that doesn’t have to stop youfrom becoming who you want to be.” The message basically comes down to ‘don’tlet it be you who holds yourself back’. I’m sure all of us have faced being ourown worst enemies at times, wherein we never even try because we’re too focusedon saying “I can’t”.

Honorable shout-out to RWBY chibiand “I make a home for this family, that’s what I do all day! And it wouldn’tkill you to show a little APPRECIATION”.

· brOTP: No one gasps insurprise when I tell you it is Qrow. When it comes to actual canon, I like tothink these two are best friends that are as close as brothers in everythingexcept blood. They’ll always be there for each other when the worst of timeshits (Emotion-numbing depression vs. Blackout Binge Drinking).

…They’ll also pants one anotherin the middle of broad daylight for a cheap laugh (Cargo shorts really are easyto get down. One of these days, Tai might just go commando just so he cantraumatize Qrow once and for all).

…And argue over stupid shit likewhose turn it was to do the dishes (Hint: It’s always Qrow’s turn).

…And do irritating shit justbecause they know it annoys the other (Qrow has a really obnoxious singingvoice, so he makes sure to sing EXTRA loud when he knows Tai’s trying to gradepapers).

And yes, Qrow is absolutely theyounger brother.

-On a smaller, but no lessimportant note, I absolutely believe Taiyang had close friendships with Summerand Raven as well.

· OTP: As with all myfavorites, I will multi-ship the hell out of Tai, especially any that can fallunder the friends-to-lovers requirement.

Absolute top OTP will always beTaiqrow (A true shocker, I’m sure). The biggest drive I have for these two hasalways been the amount of emotional support available between them. There’s somuch potential simply on the lengths Qrow may have had to go through helpingout at the house after Summer’s passing or Tai’s rigorous efforts to try andpull Qrow away from his drinking habits. They’re also just… really sexytogether. Like hot damn.

I do remain rather fond of bothof Tai’s canon ships too though. Oh yeah and I will also polyship the hell outof Tai and you will have to tear STR-Crossed out of my cold, dead hands.

I’m also happy to throw him inthe ring with James and really enjoyed my little writing session withJames/Qrow/Tai.

· nOTP: Other thananything that puts him with one of his children, nothing that tends to botherme too much? Even Ozpin/Taiyang, while a little out of nowhere, is still prettysexy to read.

· Randomheadcanon: *Holds up 20* Which one do you want?

-Contrary topopular belief, it’s actually Tai thatRuby and Yang get their daredevil behavior from. Though he’s mellowed out overthe years and as he’s gained wisdom, when he was the girls’ age he could bejust as reckless. Many times, that had gotten him into trouble and, not wantingthe girls to make the same mistakes, tries to ward them from the same flaw hehimself had. (He’s secretly a little proud about it too).

-The sunflowers are either torepresent Summer Rose or they were originally tended to by her and Taicontinues caring for them to keep the memory of her alive. He always cuts freshflowers for the girls whenever they’re sick or hurt, so that their mother canwatch over them.

-Taiyang is either estranged fromhis family or lost it at a young age. He spent most of his childhood inisolation or feeling like he didn’t belong anywhere. When he became apart ofteam STRQ, he finally felt like he’d found a new family and it was one he neverwanted to give up – that was why losing Raven and Summer eventually crushed himand led to his mental breakdown.

-True to his name, Tai fucking loves dragons and if he ever gets luckyenough to see the Gods’ true forms, he’s going to flip out.

· Unpopularopinion: So maybe it’s just the generation I grew up in, but the ‘joke’Tai gives Yang about her arm? Yeahthat one didn’t even hit on my Richter scale as bad. These kinds of ‘off-color’jokes were pretty common place when I was a kid. I think it goes back to what Isaid about the Sun and ‘stalking’ thing. Intent is extremely important, and Taimeant nothing by it… except to make his daughter laugh.

Could it have backfired? Oh yeah,and he would have probably tripped over himself to apologize. But that wasn’twhat happened – nor was it what the writers’ intended to make that happen. Otherwise, they would have led Yang’sresponse in another direction or gave the animation team a specific expressioncue to work in.

· Song Iassociate with them: Going to continue picking random songs, because this isdefinitely not my strong suit. I probably went through all my playlists, but I’mgoing with Chris Daughtry’s “It’s Not Over”. If you read the verses as stages ofTai’s life with those important in it, it lines up fairly perfectly.

-The first twoversus are for Raven and their failed love (“You’ve taken away everything/And Ican’t do without, I try to see the good in life… This love is killing me”)

-Then the next two verses are forSummer and the loss of her (“I cannot wait/We’re wasting too much time… My lifewith you means everything/So I won’t give up that easily”)

-Finally the last verses are forQrow’s losing battle against his alcoholism and depression (“We can’t let thisget away/Let it out/Don’t get caught up in yourself”) and Tai’s own resolve to getback up and start again for his girls (“It’s not over, let’s start over!”)

· Favoritepicture of them:

Never been so attracted to a picturebefore.

Summer Rose

(Our dearestflower, born white and bled red in her final hour)

· Favorite thingabout them: For now, simply that it’s implied she was both a kickasshuntress and an incredible mom. Now, if only we could SEE that in action.

· Least favoritething about them: Well. Being dead’s kind of a drag,ain’t it? I feel my least favorite thing about her is the same thing we’re allkind of feeling at this point – that we know virtually nothing about her. I washoping she’d be brought up when the whole ‘Silver-eyed’ thing got addressed –BUT NO. I’M STILL STARVING RT, GIVE ME SOME CONTENT PLEASE.

· Favorite line: *Saves thisspace for when we get any*

· brOTP: I particularlyenjoy the dynamic Summer and Raven may have had. Like Qrow and Tai, I often seethe girls growing close during their years at Beacon, the two eventuallydeveloping a mutual respect for one another that turns into friendship. Theyboth start to realize just how much they care about each other when Raveninadvertently makes a portal to Summer to save her life. Summer is secretlyhappy whenever she manages to get Raven to confide secrets to her – one ofwhich was her growing feelings for Taiyang.

· OTP: Speaking of Tai,of course I rather enjoy that Summer and he had fallen in love. Just like with Taiqrow,the emotional support factor really drives this one in deep for me. I know thisone gets a lot of flack as a ‘rebound’ on Tai’s part (And equally should getflack on Summer for being a ‘Hero’s complex’, since she’s literally swooping into ‘fix’ what Raven broke), but I personally feel like their love was genuine, simplybecause of how significant an impact losing her had on Taiyang. Just because ithappened quickly after one loss does not immediately discredit it from beingtrue and powerful.

· nOTP: Absolutely herand Qrow. And yes, I know someone is going to call me out for this one because ‘I’vewritten it before’ – AND YES, I KNOW. It’s not that I don’t see the potential inthe ship because I absolutely do. It’s that I’ve come across it just one timetoo many that to put them together, it’s often done at the expense of villainizingTai, Raven, or both, which has soured my ability to enjoy it – one person inparticular does this so well that seeing her work actually turns my stomach. Ialso really think it weakens in-canon Qrow as a character, since I can’t fathomhim lying about being Ruby’s dad and most arguments that try to explain why hewould feel flimsy at best. Also, just, this: “Don’t lie to him Ruby, we’rebetter than that.”

(I will however accept PolyQrow/Summer/Tai in which neither of them know who impregnated Summer and Qrowjust goes by uncle because it was easier for the kids to understand).

· Randomheadcanon: -Summer Rose was first attempted to be killed by then lateractually killed by Marcus Black. The first encounter I see happening sometimein her school years, in which on a mission he comes after her. Taiyang has tointervene, maybe at the cost of his own semblance, and eventually they’re both savedby Raven and Qrow who portal to them just before either are killed. In thesecond, Summer is alone and is being hunted down both by Marcus and his wife.Though she calls Qrow for back-up, he never gets there in time. In the last fewminutes, she manages to kill Marcus’ wife, but is in turn killed by him. I particularlylike this because this would make Qrow and Marcus foils, both who startdrinking heavily from loss but have different responses to those around them.

-HAVE I EVERTOLD Y’ALL ABOUT MY EVIL SUMMER IDEA? I have said it once and I will say it again:black magic and curses are criminally unused in this fairytale inspired show.The idea that Summer was ‘brought back to life’ by Salem to use for her ownpurposes is deliciously fun – or, seeing as we don’t know what it can do yet,being brought back by the relic of creation. In ether scenario, it brings backthe body but not the heart. Her reveal would be devastating to _TRQ, especiallyif they are forced to fight her. If they did I see the scenario going inmultiple directions –

A. In a team fight: Either theyare all killed by her or they kill her

B. In single fights:

+Raven is killed by Summer or theykill each other. I see Summer giving out a lot of passive-aggressive quips overRaven running off and maybe even goads her about her powers and her fears.

+For Qrow, I never see him dyingto her in a one-on-one fight. Getting heavily injured, yes, but never dying. Ido see them being fairly evenly matched, actually. And maybe even Summergetting super offended if he uses his scythe on her.

+Tai fights her, but spends themajority of the battle on the defensive, trying to remind her of who she reallyis. Just as he’s got her hesitating, another villain either injures him orstrikes him down.

That’s not even touching on whatit would mean for Ruby and Yang to encounter her.

· Unpopularopinion: While I do think she probablyhad a habit of being socially withdrawn, I really don’t see Summer as painfullyshy-mannered as some of the fandom portray her as – at least not to a debilitatingextent. I don’t think it’s a bad character trait for her, per say, and it worksin some contexts especially when it’s balanced well. It’s just hard to see hermanaging to survive as team leader with such a submissive personality traitwithout the twins or Tai completely eclipsing her.

· Song Iassociate with them: Mostly because I once envisioned an entire fight scene leadingto her death to this song, I’m going to go with “Heroes” by Zayde Wolf.Surprisingly though, it fits fairly well. Being a ‘hero in the darkest of times’really does exemplify what a huntress is and what Summer herself is meant torepresent.

· Favoritepicture of them: *Saves this space because she stubbornly refuses to put up theteam STRQ photo we’ve all seen ten thousand times*

Raven Branwen

(The sexiestpsychobitch you ever will meet)

· Favorite thingabout them: Her character potential. With the end of volume 5, it feels likeshe’s been left at a crossroads, in which she can choose to continue to lookout for herself like the coward she’s been, or choose to attempt to redeemherself when her daughter gets into trouble again. The fact that we haven’t quiteseen the result of her visit to Tai (or if it ended up being a visit at all)tells me the team is holding back on that decision for now; but, I have absolutelyno doubts that we will be seeing her again.

· Least favoritething about them: Can anyone say manipulative bitch bordering on total sociopath? Thatfirst conversation Raven has with Yang made me jerk back a bit and go ‘Whoa,crazy alert’. It’s definitely a trait that is um… a little hard to like. It hasmassive amounts of writing potential though.

· Favorite line: “Two childrenyou’ve tricked into following you, a disgraced Atleasian scientist, and a FallMaiden with a surname so appropriate, she probably picked it herself. Thatabout right?” Vol 5. Chapter 9 gets a lot of flack for not being veryinteresting, but I could not get enough of Raven’s snark throughout theconversation.

· brOTP: How about withher literal brother? I’m a total sucker for inseparable twins and I’ve alwaysliked the idea that, growing up, the two of them were extremely close. Raven’sa teeter-totter of opposites for me, so I can also see that relationship goingin the exact other direction – BUT FOR NOW…

· OTP: Speaking of teeter-totters,how about that relationship with Tai, huh? Was it toxic as hell or did they trulylove each other and just had an awful falling out, wherein the bitterness wouldsettle in much later on? Who knows! I don’t! But I love exploring both anglesto their fullest extent. I’ll also drive the pain all the way in: If Taiyangends up dying in canon, the break of their bond is powerful enough it causesRaven to cry.

In AUs, I ship the hell out ofSummer and Raven. In-canon, I’ll always go the STR-Crossed route in which allthree of them are just hopelessly in love with one another and in which Ravenpretends she doesn’t regret leaving them behind.

· nOTP: Honestly, beyondthe obvious incest ships (like with her daughter, wtf?), there’s not really anyships with Raven that make me squelch. Even a crackship like Cinder/Raven hasthis weird, sexy angle to it.

· Randomheadcanon: -Like everyone else, Raven used to have a copy of the team STRQphoto. Much like her brother, she kept it on her, even after she left. But shortlyafter Summer died, she burned the photo in the camp’s firepit, cutting off herfinal ties to them.

-Qrow and Ravenwere never sent to Beacon to ‘become huntsman and return with their skills’. Itwas what they were told but they were sent there because the leader at the timehoped they’d die in the process – in Raven’s case, to eliminate her dangerouslyambitious nature. Qrow always knew this was the real reason, but Raven didn’t acceptthis until much later. Upon her return to the tribe, she eventually confrontedand ultimately killed the former leader for that act.

-Though it relies on help fromone of her teammates, Raven can cut things in half with her portals if shecloses it when it’s only halfway through, and has done so on multiple occasionsto cut right through Grimm.

-Raven is either going to die acoward… or a hero.

· Unpopularopinion: I don’t really think Raven left because she got pregnant; ifRaven was so intent on abandoning her, I don’t feel like the show would tell usthat she visits her daughter enough that Yang is able to recognize her birdform. I think it’s an interesting angle, but I think her fear of Salem is thegenuine reason she left but she only really knew one other home: The Tribe. Herdecision to leave Yang behind either was forced from her by the rest of her teamor was her own choice at the time, knowing her daughter would be more at risk ifshe came along.

· Song Iassociate with them: Alright, I scoured around for a bit for this one. I’m going tosettle on “Heaven’s a Lie” by Lacuna Coil. Though there’s not much to actually workwith, it rather matches well with how she feels she was given false promises byOzpin (“Destiny of a lie/Set me free, your heaven’s a lie”) and how sheultimately left her team behind and returned a life of corruption (“I need toknow when I’ll fall into decay… I need to know why did I choose to betray you?Something wrong with all the plans of my life”)

· Favoritepicture of them:

God damn she’s hot when she’sabout to wreck people’s shit.

Qrow Branwen

(The man whowas Emo before it was cool)

· Favorite thingabout them: There’s a lot to love, from his dashing good looks to hisendless sass, but I especially like his emotional vulnerability. I think it’s thesadist in me, but I get endless amounts of joy from him letting down his wallsand being more open: talking about his semblance, panicking whenever Ruby is indanger, his fury and sorrow over Ozpin’s half-truths – yeah, I live for thisshit. If he cries in the show, it will almost definitely become my new favoritemoment.

· Least favoritething about them: So, fun fact: I hatedQrow at first and simply because of this fact -he’s a drunk. Now, this is superpersonal, but I grew up with addiction in my family, so characters like Qrowalmost never make it high up on my list, if they make it on at all. It’ll alwaysremain my least favorite thing about him, but I do like how the show isexploring the issue and, in fact, have enjoyed exploring it myself in mywriting. It’s therapeutic.

· Favorite line: As far as linedelivery goes, got to give it to “Look, this has nothing to do with trust. I- …It’s a long story, okay?” The amount of emotion put into those simple words is frankly,just beautiful. Got to also give proper appreciation to “I DID IT!” and “Well…that’s unfortunate.”

I’ll always be most fond of “Youtwo? You’re gonna go far. But only if you keep learning. If you never stopmoving forward.” Not only as it’s a homage to Monty, but it really shows Qrow’skinder, more loving side when it comes to his nieces.

· brOTP: So whileshipping them is generally off the table, Summer and Qrow being best friends isalways my jam. I can see these two having little drinking sessions together or gettingcompetitive over two-player video games. Perhaps they even geeked out togetherwhen they both realized they loved the tale of the Grimm Reaper. I also stronglybelieve that it was Qrow who encouraged Summer to admit her feelings to Tai, advisingher that to wait could mean to lose her chance entirely. And then, when sheactually did, teased her endlesslyabout it.

· OTP: Can I just fillout a second paragraph about how much I love Taiqrow? Because, I really love Taiqrow.I can see it happening entirely on accident. One night, Taiyang and Qrow aresaying good night and, without thinking, Taiyang just dips down and gives him akiss. He freaks out, not because of the action insomuch that he was afraid hejust ruined their friendship until Qrow just rolls his eyes and drags him infor another one.

On a side note, I’m really startingto get a soft spot for OzQrow and I blame the rest of the fandom for this. Ironic,that I ship them now that Ozpin has technically died and it’s TOO LATE.

As for James/Qrow, I see thehighlights of it, and in small measures like it myself, but it’s not very highup on my list.

Winter and Qrow is a total guiltypleasure ship and I’m not sorry.

· nOTP: Again, beyondthe obvious choices? Eh, I’ve noticed Tyrian/Qrow is gaining some traction and,while it definitely doesn’t give me the heebie-jeebies some ships do, that oneis definitely not my cup of tea.

· Randomheadcanon: -Qrow likes to bestow nicknames to people he likes, as nicknamesare terms of endearment to him. For people like James or Oz, who are Jimmy andWizard respectively, he uses them sparingly; whereas, for family, he tends touse them much more frequently. Especially with his nieces. They often can tell whenhe’s being serious or when they are in trouble if he starts using their actual names.When he was a teacher, almost all of his students got nicknames, since he wasterrible at remembering them by their actual names.

-Qrow’ssemblance caused him to be sent to Ozpin’s office. A lot. It gave everyone,except for the very few who actually knew what his semblance was, theimpression that he was nothing but a troublemaker. Eventually, Qrow started paying Glynda on theside to use her own semblance to fix whatever his would break.

-Qrow’s drinking actually startedin school. He’s generally a happy, reckless drunk, and people tended to likehis company more and, craving both that feeling and the attention, he continuedto seek out social events for an excuse to drink. When he was young, he wasalso extremely choosey on the brew he would have, as a bad mixture often hadthe effect of making his mood plummet instead. As he grew more dependent on thealcohol, he stopped caring as much.

-Qrow isabsolutely bisexual and no one can convince me otherwise.

· Unpopularopinion: I really don’t think Qrow sleeps around as much as the generalfandom believes he does. I get why the archetype is there, especially with how flirtatioushe can be, but with how insecure Qrow actually is, I feel like he’d actually bepretty hesitant when it comes to getting intimate, especially with strangers. Accidentalpregnancies, anyone?

· Song Iassociate with them: Okay this one was actually an easy choice: “Breaking the Habit”by Linkin Park. It really highlights the current struggle Qrow’s going throughin this volume (not knowing what is worth fighting for) while it also can relateback to his addiction and self-worth/depression issues (Not feeling all rightand hurting a lot more than ever before).

· Favoritepicture of them:

Just your resident bird man, looking badass as shit.

#taiyang xiao long #qrow branwen #raven branwen #Summer Rose #rwby #strq #team strq

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itstandsforthesun · 5 years

Text

A little life review//spoilers

Two disclaimers before I start this. First, I have never written a review before from either fear or pure laziness, so take me easy on this one (also English is only my second language). Second, this is my opinion, if you loved this book then cheers to you. At the end of the day you got a new favorite book and all I got is the sweet taste of indecision.

With that being said, let’s start. I didn’t hate this book, I didn’t love it even though I enjoyed a big part of it. Do I feel like it has the potential of becoming a new classic? Absolutely not. But let’s start with the beginning, the writing style. I don’t usually pay too much attention to this unless it is extremely good, but this time there were a couple of aspects that were nagging at me. It seemed really try-hard. Try-hard to sound deep, try-hard to sound poetic, try-hard to sound pretentious (that The Secret History good pretentious). The descriptions were at times way too long and unnecessary just like the phrases themselves. A sentence could go on for 5 lines and by the time you got to the end you were filled with so much information that you didn’t even know what was important to the scene at hand and what not.

I’m not saying that the writing style was complete rubbish, it had its charm at times and there were also a lot of quotes that I enjoyed throughout the book, some beautiful descriptions, but even those were spoiled from time to time with sentences that were just too long.

Now that we got the writing style out of the way, let’s move on to the plot. In this book’s case, there’s not much of it. Not that it bothered me, it reminded me of The Goldfinch, a book I loved. The main difference between this book and The Goldfinch though is that the length is not justified. A Little Life could have easily lost at least 200 pages and it would not have made a difference. The plot got repetitive and to be honest quite tiring. I remember the joy with which I started this book, so curious to find out more about our mysterious Jude and then I remember my only thought approaching the end: “Is this over yet?”

The book was simply too long in my opinion and it had little to nothing on which I could get hooked. I was curious for the end, but not that curious. I knew there was going to be death, it was expected, but I will admit that I was not expecting the actual death count.

And speaking about death, let’s get to the characters, shall we? A Little Life was advertised as a novel about friendship that followed the lives of 4 ex-college roommates through the years. And while that’s true to some extent, more often than not we seem to be concentrating on only one of these 4, Jude St. Francis. And don’t get me wrong, I do get it. Jude is the one with the most baggage, with the most interesting life and back-story, but if that’s the case, at least tell us from the beginning that this is a story about Jude! Don’t advertise JB, Malcom and Willem as main characters when they are not really, not when you know who you really want to write about.

I’ll express my opinion on each of these characters individually now and I’m going to be starting with Malcom since he is the most neglected out of the 4. I get very angry when I think about Malcom and his “character development” throughout this book or the lack of it. We get this dude’s POV once in a 720 pages book! And he is called a main character! A main fucking character! And what’s even worse, when we see him, the only time we really see him, he is filled with indecision, about his future, about his job, about his sexuality, about living with his parents. You want to tell me that these things are not interesting enough to follow, to see how a character gets out of his own head and decides for himself what his own life is going to be? After his short POV in the beginning of the book (which also seemed a little like a cheap anticipation of Jude’s part of the story, like starting with these 3 not so important characters to get them out of the way) we never really find out how he solved all of his problems. We get mentions of him getting a new job, one that he is actually proud of, finding a girlfriend who also becomes his wife later on and moving out of his parent’s house. But we never get his thought process, what made him take attitude in the first place, how he figured out his sexuality. Malcom’s whole character comes off as lazy writing. The author didn’t seem to care enough about Malcom to give him a proper story. Why make him a main character then? Malcom in my opinion had a lot of potential as a character, his constant indecision, still present in the story even without his POV, would have offered great literary material, a great conversation starter on the indecisiveness of people. But no, Malcom had to be resumed to an episodical character who was more often mentioned than present only to feed into the book’s theme of friendship. We could also consider Malcom as an instrument in establishing the theme of loss also present in this book. Malcom was killed off along with Willem and Sophie (a character who spoke a total of 0 words in the entire book) for a purpose unknown to me. Let’s say Willem and Sophie died and Malcom lived, wouldn’t that have offered him an opportunity to be seen by us, really seen, again? The death of the two could have been followed by Malcom’s point of view along side Jude’s. The author could have used it as an introspection into Malcom’s life and all it represented up to this moment. His character could have been redeemed and we would have also gotten an emotional roller coaster that would have brought us to tears. This would have saved the character of Malcom for me and it would also have brought him justice. In the end, Malcom was just a wasted opportunity for me.

The next “main character” that I’m going to bring up is JB. In no way as neglected as Malcom, but also not getting as much screen time as Willem or Jude, JB is a pretty interesting character. Selfish, self-centered, “always politically correct” and susceptible to bad habits, JB seems to be anything but a hero. That’s what makes him fascinating to watch, he goes from incidents like making fun of Jude’s walk to painting his friends in magnificent lively colors. We get to explore both his admiration for his own person and his hatred. JB is a complex character, not necessary my favorite personality wise, but definitely my favorite building and development wise.

Moving on to Willem, the character that gets screen time because he is the love of our main character’s life. Maybe that was slightly exaggerated, but we’ve all been thinking it. Willem is a very likeable character, in the beginning he was actually my favorite, I’m not sure what happened along the way. It was probably the fact that the story was dragged out so much that I lost interest in most things. I thought Willem was a very kind soul who truly loved helping people and more importantly his friends. I prayed until the very last moment that the relationship with Jude would not happen though. On one hand it was because it was too predictable, I would have loved to see a pure friend love story since we don’t get much of those if any. Second of all, back to the point of friendship, this was advertised as a story about 4 friends, not about 2 friends who fall in love with each other and then 2 others who are only half relevant. I wanted to be surprised by a story in which nobody fell in love with their best friend, where the kind friend always took special care of his best friend because that’s who he was, not because subconsciously he always wanted to kiss him and hold his hand. I still liked Willem as a character, maybe he wasn’t as layered as I would have wanted him to be and maybe he was frustrating at times (who takes 30 years to talk to their BELOVED BEST FRIEND about their self-harm?), but he was a well-rounded character in the end. With that being said, I think his death was a magnificent writing decision. It was a brutal, come out of nowhere death and it spiced the plot up. Unlike Sophie’s and Malcom’s deaths, Willem’s was completely justified in my opinion. It gave Jude a new challenge, it broke the repetitive pattern and stirred our curiosity about what was going to happen next. Even though I do not agree with the actual ending of the book I still believe that the events leading up to it were a good choice.

And now to the character we’ve all been waiting for, Jude. Listen, as everyone else I was really exited about Jude, I was counting the pages left until his POV, he intrigued me. There were lots of aspects that I liked about his character. His mental illness (yes, Andy, he was in fact mentally ill) was decently portrayed, I could relate to his mental process concerning self-harm and he definitely struck a cord with me. With that being said, his story could have been shorter and it could have left more space for other characters (*cough* Malcom *cough*). Jude’s story contained a repetitive pattern that had been dragged out for far too long ending in a predictable conclusion. Let’s start with the beginning, the back-story, the thing that we all wanted to find out about. I’m going to critic it’s credibility in just a second, but first I just want to say that the author’s attempt at building suspense completely flopped on me. The way she tried to spread the back-story all throughout the book did not keep me on my toes, it only annoyed and bored me, I couldn’t wait to get it out of the way once and for all.

Now, let’s say the monastery made sense, even Brother Luke made sense, but everything that followed was total bullshit. Is this boy just a magnet for abuse? Do abusers just sense him from 5 miles away or what? I’m not trying to seem insensible, but for real now! And how come every single person he meets is both a pedophile and interested in guys? I refuse to believe that every single counselor at that home and every truck driver is gay. What’s the actual probability of that being the case? I mean does nobody like vagina or what? The back-story is clearly exaggerated, but I guess that it does make Jude’s learning to trust people again more remarkable. I did enjoy the relationships he built for himself after everything that happened to him (except the one with Caleb of course) and I admired the courage it took him to trust Andy with his body, Harold with his fear of belonging to someone and Willem with his love and life. But in the end it was all for nothing, Jude still kills himself, all his progress is flashed down the toilet and you are left wandering what was it all for. I’m not saying all endings should be happy endings, damn, I love me a good sad ending, but making Jude’s suicide in the end come out as ok and acceptable just doesn’t send a good message, that he had nothing left to live for when he still got his goddamn parents who loved him more than anything else. Suicide should never be portrayed as something ok to do, something justifiable. Yes, Willem’s death was heart breaking for Jude, even more than that, it wrecked him all over again, but I really thought that this death would be used as an opportunity for Jude to get better, to show that you can get through anything. I get that life isn’t like that, I get that in real life suicide would probably be the actual thing a person would choose most of the time (hell, I don’t know what I would do if faced with this situation), I am not judging Jude, I am not condemning him, I’m just saying that there could have been a better ending. The least that could have been done was to still try to give it a positive note, Harold to remark that even though he understands why Jude did it and that he still loves him, there were alternatives, there was still a chance for him to be at peace with the world without dying.

All and all, I enjoyed A Little Life most of the times and I do not regret reading it even though it made me very angry at times. It is still a book I recommend, but I recommend reading it with a critical eye.

#alittlelife #bookreview #firstreview #hanya yanagihara #reader #booklover

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the-ravens-wings · 5 years

Text

i love you too

(this is something very self indulgent and written on a whim. jeanne is def ooc but W/E. it’s not like nasu will ever give us any character development.)

I was blackout tired. It had been one long, seemingly never ending day in the jungles around Eridu. I was aching all over, and my ears were still ringing from Merlin’s constant babble all day long. Who knew one wizard could be so irritating? Jeanne and I were sent to Babylonia alongside Ritsuka and Mashu considering the levity and importance of the mission. Our goals were nearly separate, and we almost never worked together, but Roman felt it would be appropriate for at least one singularity, especially the most important one.

Jeanne mostly kept her distance from the other servants around. There was too much baggage after Orleans, especially considering her welcome was less than thrilling. She wasn’t the Jeanne everyone knew and trusted, and that showed. Most servants preferred to ignore her existence, leaving her to fend for herself in most battles, but others would go so far as to purposely injure her when fighting alongside her. She wasn’t needed in this war, they would tell her. It always broke my heart to hear that. Therefore, I knew a deep seed of discord lied between her and the other servants, and that she would prefer to keep her distance to allow this mission to run as smoothly as possible. As her master, I was obliged to stay by her side. Not that I minded, of course. Her side is where I preferred to be. She was my only friend, especially after being thrust into this master’s role, and we spent a majority of our time together. One could say the fondness we had for each other was deeper than most.

I could usually tell when something was bothering her, but she seemed distant recently. She was quiet whenever we walked, and would respond to commands with a less than enthusiastic response. We usually blended so well together in battle, forming one tight unit. I wouldn’t be lying if I said I was scared she was slipping away from me. The “avenger” class is so fickle, and so lost in it’s own hatred that she could have easily killed me whenever she wanted. It was an extremely dangerous, yet essential love we had for each other.

Despite the exhaustion begging me to collapse onto the grass, I went to find my servant, no, my lover. I wasn’t quite sure where she was hiding, but she disappeared after we ate dinner. I assumed it was because the others began to socialize and that was too much for her. None of them would so much look in her direction when conversation began, and the servants we had with us would go out of their way to avoid engaging her in conversation. The more Merlin and Ana talked, the more visibly uncomfortable Jeanne became. She eventually got up and left quietly, without so much as a word to me. Pride, I assumed, would not let her show the hurt she had. I should have followed her sooner, but I could barely move from the spot I was sitting in.

Fortunately, she wasn’t too far away. I found her cooped up, alone, by a large tree. She appeared to be curled up into a ball, at least from what I could see. That worried me immediately.

“Jeanne?” I whispered into the dark, even though I was sure she could have already sensed me coming. She turned her head at the sound, but didn’t make a noise in response. All I could hear was the sound of the animals restless at night. “Um… I’m really sorry about all of that... I should have gotten up sooner…” My voice trailed off. I was terribly unsure of myself still, and it felt like everything I said and did for her was a mistake. She was so complex and beautiful, delicate and fragile all at once. “You’re babbling again, Master… Didn’t I tell you you talk more than you think?” I swore I saw a small smile grace her features. “I’m sorry… It’s been such a long day.” I flopped down beside her. I was unable to stand up any longer. “I know, Master. I’m surprised you made it all the way over here to me without collapsing.” “Give me some credit, I’m not TOTALLY weak. Just… mostly.” I laughed, but she didn’t respond. Was there something rigid in her voice or was I imagining things? She didn’t seem to move from her tightly held position either. She seemed to be staring into space… “Anyway, Jeanne. I was worried about you…” I began, but she tensed up when I said it. “Why?” It was such a quick response I was shocked by how curt it was. What do you mean “why?” I love you! Of course I was worried! “B-Because… you know… we work together and…” I was shaken, and tried to get my thoughts together, but they just stumbled out of my mouth. “I’m fine! Absolutely, totally fine! Nothing to worry about!” She turned her head sharply away from me. I had seen this response in her before, especially when we first started working together. Before we would fall asleep for the night, she would pull the covers tightly over her head and insist nothing was bothering her, that she wasn’t afraid to sleep, and that I should just stay where I was. Whenever she dreamt though, I did too, and I knew the truth. Her tough facade had so many cracks, but I also knew she kept it up to try and keep me “safe” from whatever she was hiding. “Jeanne… I know that isn’t true…” The tone of my voice dropped to more of a gentle whisper. The urge to pull her into my arms and never let go was overwhelming. I’ve never wanted to protect someone more in my life than I did in this instant. She sighed hard, but her arms relaxed just a little bit. I would have to slowly chink away at whatever was bothering her. “I’m just tired, that’s all.” She tried to control the wavering in her voice, and failed miserably at it. That was more than enough reason for me to move my unwilling body closer to hers. “You know you don’t have to lie to me… not ever.” I whispered again, gently brushing some dirt away from her armor. “You’ve been through enough, Master. You don’t need me burdening you more. I am your servant, and I take care of myself to make sure you don’t have to worry.” She wouldn’t look at me, so I turned her face towards me as much as she would allow. Her eyes were still focused on the floor, but they were more in my direction now. “Are you worried you’re going to bother me…?” She seemed so shocked by my response, and looked at me like I was some sort of imbecile. “Of course I’m WORRIED! What sort of servant would I be if I j-j-j-j-j-just projected all my problems onto you! If I just decided you were the one who needed to take care of me and all of my suffering and hurt! This war would never end!” She was focused intensely on me now, and I knew she was staring at the deep bags under my eyes. Those flames in her eyes were burning bright, but bright for a different reason than normal. “You don’t have to push me away… your problems ARE my problems, just as my problems are yours. That’s what it means to be master and servant… and more importantly, to be lovers, right?” Words weren’t going to fix everything, I knew that, but what else could I say? “What do you know?! How can you EVER understand what it’s like to protect the one person in your life that matters?! Especially when we’re surrounded with danger and are facing the end of the world?! Why does the world have to end right when I’M happy?!” I couldn’t quite make out the expression she was making, but her eyes clouded up with more hatred than I had ever seen her have before. The harsh coldness of her eyes could have frozen any hot, summer day over. But even I knew hurt was hiding just beneath the surface.I was taken back by her response, but she was right. I didn’t know what sort of stressors she was under, what sorts of burdens she was carrying, or why she was hiding it from me, but I understood that it was for me, and that it was my duty to make sure she didn’t burn out fantastically like a moth in a flame.

“You’re right… I don’t understand. I’m sorry.” She turned back to me harshly, and I was intensely worried I said the wrong thing. I felt like I was walking on eggshells, but what is a half baked, self righteous lecture going to do when someone is truly hurting? Easier said than done!

“Don’t... “ She seemed breathless, her face twisting into some cruel agony she didn’t want to face. “Don’t apologize to me! What do you have to apologize for?!” I saw her fists rapidly curling and uncurling into unnaturally tight balls, so I knew she was holding back. I knew so much of her wanted to kill me, right in that instant.

“I’m apologizing… for ignoring your needs considering how much you take care of mine.”

“My needs are irrelevant!”

“No they’re not!” I finally snapped back. “They’re not, Jeanne! You’re a person with feelings outside of whatever your stupid class affinity tells you and they have to be tended to too! You’re not just full of hate, Jeanne! I know you’re full of hurt and sadness and I want to help heal that!” I took a deep breath. Hot tears were stinging at the corners of my eyes, a bitter reminder of the frustrations this relationship was going to put me through, but I wasn’t deterred. She was worth every tear I could shed, every heartbreak I could bear, and so much more. “I want to help you… but only if you let me…”

“Master… I can-!” She held her hands close to her own body, squeezing them tightly. The pain in her eyes shone brighter than the flames that ignited her passions, and for a brief moment, I knew I was looking directly at the real Jeanne. MY Jeanne. I took her fidgeting hands away from her, and gently placed them around my throat.

“Would killing me here help…?” I asked earnestly. Even if it meant the end of us both, I was willing to give her just a brief moment of relief. Guess I was that stupid in love. I watched her focus on her hands around my throat, frustration and anger pooling up like hot puddle of mercury in her eyes.. She pulled them away, with a harsh yank, after what felt like an eternity.

“No… my hands were meant to destroy, Master… but you’re the one thing I can’t destroy!” There was a mixture of hurt and anger in her voice, as if destroying me in this moment would bring her a permanent solution to something she viewed as a temporary problem. She fought her own nature to brings those words to her lips.

“Jeanne…” I took her hands once again, but softer this time, into my own. She was shaking like a leaf, and I knew that facade of hers was crumbling and she hated it more than anything. I steadied her hands as best as I could, and pressed them gently to my cheeks.

“You’re safe with me, you have nothing to be afraid of anymore…” I whispered. A soft smile graced my lips, and while the tears still fell, they weren’t hot. A few stray tears fell gently onto her gauntlets and sparkled off them. We made this promise to each other so long ago, and it was still our mantra. Something that kept us both going, even when it looked like nothing would come to fruition.

“And you’re safe with me, Master…” She finally looked up at me, and I could see how weary her face was in the moonlight. She was fighting so hard for my sake, and I had been so ignorant of it. It was only right to repay her.

“You’re fighting so well, and so hard… no one deserves a break more than you.” I caressed each of her fingers, despite the roadblocks her gauntlets imposed.

“I… deserve a break…” She admitted, her eyes dropping to the ground, as if ashamed for running herself ragged.

“You deserve a break…” I said softly, and started to unlace the string holding her gauntlets tight to her hands. She stopped me quicky, holding my hand in place.

“Master… no… You don’t want to see those… please…” She had a pathetic, pleading look in her eyes. I had never seen this before.

“Jeanne… no matter what your hands look like, I know they’re beautiful…” I kept my eyes focused on hers, trying to be as brave and unwavering as I could be, as she returned my gaze. I gently pulled her other hand off of mine, and slid the loose gauntlet off her fingers one at a time. She looked scared, terrified this gauntlet held a world ending secret within it, and I wasn’t sure why.

“Master… please… no more…” I couldn’t bare to look Master in the eyes, let alone at those ugly things I call hands. I had memorized every scar, every scaly, uneven patch of skin, every intricate line left by those damned, cursed ropes on my wrists. Those hands… they should never hold hers the way she holds mine. They aren’t worthy of that.

“They’re beautiful… so unique and slender. I’ve never seen hands more gorgeous than yours.” I watched as Master eyed my hands like a fine piece of art hanging in a museum. So much of me didn’t want to believe she was sincere, but my heart, my STUPID heart, knew she was. I wished, even if just for a second, that that small part of me could ooze through and show Master the kindness she deserved. Why did I have to be so damn… hateful?

“...thank you, Master…” It was all I could manage to mumble, especially as she pressed her soft lips to each of my ugly, ragged digits. I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve this! That’s all I could think in that moment. But Master, in her seemingly ever wise ways, cupped my exposed hand in hers.

“I love you, Jeanne.” She smiled, with her tired eyes and sleep deprived face. God damnit…

“Master, I…” All I could do was throw myself on her, and hold her tightly. I gripped her clothes so hard I heard them rip in the back, but it was all I could do to make sure this wasn’t a dream. I didn’t want this moment to end, and I was afraid that the moment I would let go, Master would drift away and I would wake up again, in my bedroom on the battlefront, waiting to be burned at the stake.

“It’s alright, Jeanne… everything is going to be OK.” She held me so gently, but her hands, her body up against mine, was so warm. For once, I was happy feeling like I was on fire. Perhaps hell wouldn’t be so bad if I could hold this warmth in my heart when I get there.

Every gentle touch, every soft breath on my neck, soothed my aching body back down to reality. I wasn’t drifting alone in the abyss anymore, I had someone to keep me anchored to this stupid world destined for destruction.

“Master, I wi-” But my words were silenced with a gentle kiss. A kiss, a gesture of affection I never thought I would know or understand. It’s the only thing in the world that ever made me melt.

“Yes, Jeanne…?” She looked at me with such tender and loving eyes.

“Master, I… I love you too.”

#fgo #jalter #jeanne alter #fanfiction

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