#the zeal does almost everything i need a machine to do
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Hey! I love you blog. It's inspired me to get back into sewing, something i did frequently as a child. Unfortunately, that was all on my mom's machine, and I'm now looking down the problem of buying myself something beginner friendly that will be able to scale with me a bit as I level back up.
You're easily the person in my circles who's got the best read on sewing machines. Would you have any specific suggestions for machines to look at and put on a holiday wish list sort of thing?
Thanks no matter what, and best wishes
I have way too much to say about sewing machines. Generally, when helping someone pick a sewing machine, there's a few things that limit the conversation. First of all, I generally have them there, and we're only looking at machines that my store sells. We also have information like price point, how often it's being used, where its being stored, and how often it's transported to another location. We can find out what their feelings are about different brands and what accessories they want to get. Usually, after roughly 15 minutes, we have several models to choose from, where my customer can go into the fine details of different models within a similar price point.
I don't have any of that here, so I've now written three different versions of this post, all of which are very long and not particularly useful.
So here goes for round 4) Part a, the best machine for you is the one that allows you to make the things you want to make. The best way to make the things you want to make is to find a machine that allows you to do the things you most often do without frustration.
The best machine to grow into as one who sews (side note: it's really annoying that sewer and sewer are spelled the same) is one that will still be working very well after using it for several years. There's a whole lot of advice out there and on this blog about buying a used machine, but with a lot of old machines you just don't have a way of knowing that they won't cascade on you and have one part fail after another. You also can't tell if that will happen with most mass market Singer and Brother machines, so. I'd avoid all of them.
It's a common misconception that expensive machines are harder to use. After a certain price point, some of the expense of creating the machine is put into making sure that the machine feels effortless to use. As an example, my sewing/embroidery combo machine doesn't need to have the sewing tension set, because instead of telling the machine what tension to use, I tell it what fabric and technique I'm working with. It then sets the tension for the correct stitch. This is undeniably more complex than a wheel with numbers on it, but is much less effort to actually think about. Higher-end machines will allow you to customize a large portion of the machine, so that if you mainly use the same eight stitches, they're present and easy to find from your home screen. Less expensive computerized machines, where the maker shoved every stitch they could find into the machine to make it more attractive on the store shelf, often are very difficult to select a stitch with. You're frequently sorting through a huge number of unnecessary stitches to find basic things like your tricot stitch. Basically, if you give Brother $15,000 for a machine and it's hard to use, they really failed in their job. A good machine will make the everyday features very easy to use and front and center, and the less frequently used features will be present and out of the way until you need them.
In some ways, you can tell how long of a life a machine is expected to have by how willing companies are to stand behind it. In addition to checking the manufacturer's warranty, see if any of your nearby dealers who sell it are willing to sell an extended warranty or a protection/replacement plan for it. For example, at my old job, we'd sell protection plans for all of our machines except Singer machines. Singer machines broke too often for us to not lose money on a service contract, as the cost of service and parts was invariably greater than the cost of the contract. Yes, most machines have 10 years warrantied on manufacturer defects, but I've seen Singer claim that a problem wasn't a manufacturer defect because it only showed up after 15 hours of sewing, so clearly it was the customer's fault. There's no real effective recourse if the brand decides to do that, so see if anyone who isn't the brand is willing to put their name on the line to defend the machine.
Also, a lot of the entry level machines are internet models, meaning that dealerships are allowed to sell them at Minimum Advertised Price over the internet. Before buying a machine, find a dealer near you and call them to ask how satisfied people are with the machine and how often it's returned. Also, if you're near the dealership, many dealerships can offer you a lower than MAP price if you call or visit the store. They're not allowed to advertise the price lower than MAP (hence the name), but they're allowed to sell it for less. It's a weird situation but it's how dealerships work. So yeah, if it's a real store and you call to ask about a machine you might buy through their site, you'll often find someone willing to help you. (If someone really helps you over the phone, it's also not rude to ask if they will get credit for the sale since they helped you so much. This costs you nothing to ask and sometimes means the salesperson can get commission on the sale, so it's a free way to give a helpful person some money).
Almost all online sewing tutorials can be followed using the cheapest machine that my store sells. I also went through all of costume design school only using features that were in a basic computerized model. Having a really high-end sewing machine is not the norm and so most books don't expect it. Also, many books about sewing were written many years before really modern computerized machines existed.
A good machine for growing into is one where you have a good balance between being wide-throat and being portable. The more space you have to the right of the needle (the throat), the more easily you can fit bigger projects. However, the more space you have to the right of the needle, the bigger your machine needs to be. For someone with no specialty sewing space, the biggest machine I see that's popular is the Baby Lock Lyric (or Lyric-sized machines like the Soprano or Brilliant, or the Brother variants that are like 900qsomething; i'm super bad at remembering Brother machine names). Machines larger than that often don't get used just because clearing a space on your kitchen table is pretty tough. So that max size is those bbylock/bro machines, the Viking 10" throat like the sapphires and topaz, Janome Skyline series, and Bernina 500 series. There's a lot of machines smaller than those that could also be good grow-into machines, but that's my personal opinion for the max size.
You also will need to decide on some features that might be important. Embroidery (in a hoop) is a big one, but decorative stitching (no hoop) is another. If you're going to be doing a lot of decorative stitching and fonts, you will get more flexibility out of a side-motion feed. If no side-motion feed, a 9mm zigzag would be nice. If you do more utility sewing, a nice range of attachments that you can afford would be a good thing. These would be things like feet and binders.
If you want embroidery, and you're planning it for a grow-in machine, try to get a hoop larger than 5x7. Many premade designs need a hoop a step above a 5x7. If you're getting into embroidery, and you want to make your own designs, you'll also need to budget for software.
If you're on a budget more accessible to the average person, and aren't looking to spend over $700 on a machine, here's what I recommend looking for:
If it's a mechanical machine, how long has the model been around, and how many are still around today? This can be tough, because models can be renamed while still being the exact same machine. Entry level Babylocks and Bernettes, as well as some Vikings, are often made by Janome. This means a machine model might be traded between some brands. My best example of this is the Bbylock Zeal, which used to be the Molly, and was a Janome before that. If it keeps being used, it's probably a good model.
Sew on it if at all possible. See how it feels to use all the features.
Check which brands offer the same features, and what other brands are offering at the same price point. Janome has their own version of the Bernette B37 that doesn't have the Bernette housing, and it sometimes is $100 cheaper or more expensive.
Brother and Baby Lock have machines made in the same factories. If you like a machine, check to see if there's a comparable match in the other brand. They'll often be the same price but might be bundled with different accessories. Personally, if it's a Brother that doesn't have a Baby Lock equivalent, I'd really check reviews before buying.
If you're going to grow into it, see how easy it is to do buttonholes. You'll probably want to do them in the future. Not only how easy it is to do one, but to do several identical ones.
If you're talking to a salesperson, tell them you're looking to grow into it. Depending on your business, they can sometimes offer different kinds of deals for that. For example, if I'm selling something that comes with a bundle, I can see if I can substitute free thread, which will be used up in the next 2 years, with forged scissors that can be sharpened and last you 10 years. We can't always make huge financial changes, but telling us what you're looking for can allow us to make what changes we can to help it suit your needs. Sometimes people don't want to tell us everything about what they want because they think it'll be a sign of weakness that we'll use to rip you off. The fact is that in most sales, the customer will find the machine that they want, and all we did was allow them to see the features they need. The customer knows what they want and will buy what they want. We don't need to do skeevy tricks to force them into a machine they don't want. Give us that information. We're here to help.
If you have a <$700 budget and you need a computerized machine, the Janome i forgot the numbers but I think it's the one above the 3100QDCT is a pretty good entry level one. If you're quilting then the Pfaff Passport with the built in walking foot is great. If you're going mechanical to save money, the Baby Lock Zeal is a really good amount of features for hte price point, and I think is one of the best values out there. Bernina, Viking, and Pfaff usually use nonstandard presser feet, so remember that if you want to use specialty attachments in the future.
Larger budget and the Bernette 70 series is nice, especially if you want to later upgrade to a Bernina 400-700 series since the user interface is the same. Baby Lock you can't go wrong with the Lyric, Brother has the 3600something that's similar to the BBlyock Vesta if you want embroidery. I have a Viking Topaz 50 that I'm very fond of.
Anyway, if you want to narrow that very large $200-$4000 price range down, throw in some more things you sew and a vague price point, and I can get even more specific.
#20dollarlolita plays rate my machine#but yeah if you're just looking for a basic machine#the zeal does almost everything i need a machine to do
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Unexpected Company
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Soda Kazuichi/Tanaka Gundham
Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Despair, No Game Spoilers, Long Distance Relationship AU, Kazuichi's A Solid Planning Skills, Or Lack Of lol, Fluff, Online Friendship, Friends to Idiots to Lovers, Vet!Gundham, Mechanic!Kazuichi, they've been talking via blog comments lol
Summary: Long Distance AU where Gundham is (pleasantly) surprised on his birthday
Read on Ao3
Authors Note: This long distance AU was made by SoudamDaily on Twitter. I don’t have a twitter, I just stalk the site for soudam and tarot sequence stuff lol, so anyone who does have a twitter, please tell the mod on SoudamDaily that I loved the au idea and that I love reading their other AU's when the post them. I tried to make a fic for it. I hope I did it some justice <3
The twitter post responsible for this lol
Gundham awoke that morning feeling more spirited than usual. He did not know why, but it felt as though a warm aura had settled itself on his spirit like a thick blanket, giving him more energy and a sense of giddiness. It was different from the usual presence he felt - so much so that he did a long, intense reading to try to pinpoint its purpose.
After a moment of contemplation, he decided to take it as a sign of upcoming prosperity and turned to use this zeal to his full advantage. He went about his day as usual: feeding and medicating both his personal pets and fosters that needed an extra touch outside his clinical hours; cleaning and going over notes for upcoming appointments. But as morning turned to noon, something still felt off to the man, though he didn’t know what. It wasn’t until he was mindlessly folding laundry and he held up an absurdly bright pink shirt that his business associate had gifted him not too long ago in the summer.
I have not heard from Kazuichi all day.
Eye ridges furrowing, Gundham glanced down at the table where his phone sat silently on the polished surface. It had started as an unusual situation - Gundham’s blog for his mighty beasts was known and shared the world over. He had been used to the comments and speculations that fools seem to always have in abundance for things they know nothing about, but one day a strange comment appeared in his inbox and he had been strangely drawn to it.
Gundham can still remember it as clearly as if it happened yesterday.
Pan-ic Mechanic (xx/xx/2xxx) -
full disclosure, I have this little dudes purrs on a loop cause they’re so loud and rumble like an engine that I can actually relax. rock on little guy
It was under a post for an elderly cat Gundham had cared for until she was finally adopted. She had been huge and fluffy and did indeed purr at an obscenely loud volume. But it had been nice to see someone else appreciate her powerful voice - even when misgendered - and had replied his gratitude, thinking nothing would come from it.
Soon one comment, between several threads and before he knew it, almost a full year had passed and the vet had made the acquaintance of an unusual but kind mechanic who would readily give him tips and virtual assistance for any technical problem he had. Gundham had followed the other’s blog back almost immediately - since it was the least he could do - and found the other had rows and rows of pictures of machines in various stages of repair and one or two random photos of his personal shop.
They talked about their mutual love for Gundam models and certain shojo anime, as well as things outside their mutual tastes and everything in between. Soon, he found himself talking to the man daily over text and the occasional phone call, venting frustrations and sharing jubilations with an ease he hadn’t had since before Sonia had left to return to her home country.
The two talked for hours every day, Gundham giving updates on the latest series of fosters and Kazuichi telling him everything from a new project to some minute tiff he had with a friend. And after his Angel’s passing, he had limited contact with mortals so finding a business associate who wasn’t adverse to his eccentricities was refreshing.
It was nice, even though Gundham thought it odd that a business associate would ask about his personal life and day to day. But he figured it was to keep the friendly rapport alive so he continued to enjoy their lengthy debates and occasional night sessions.
Glancing at the time, he was surprised to see it was a quarter to two. The last time they had conversed, Kazuichi had mentioned finishing a contraption that Gundham had talked about wanting for his beast who had been cursed with incomplete palate’s and the mechanical warrior had requested for his address.
Pan-is Mechanic -
great! thanks for the address man, just wish i didn’t have to ship it. I’m super afraid that it’ll damage, ya can’t trust some delivery drivers nowadays
Tanaka Bestiary -
My confidence in mortals in the courier business is also abysmal. Unfortunately, it cannot be helped in this instance.
Pan-ic Mechanic -
Maybe not. I can always just come over and deliver it myself lol
Tanaka Bestiary -
And would your affliction accommodate you on such an expedition?
Pan-ic Mechanic -
Eh, I’ll think of something.
That confusing interaction had been their last correspondence. And now, three days with no contact. This is the longest they had ever not been in contact with the other. Gundham wondered if there was something wrong. Glancing at the phone again, he wondered if he should be the first to reach out, when the faint, tinny sound of the doorbell rang in the air.
Gundham turned towards the direction of his front door, surprised. He wasn’t expecting company this week. Slowly, he approached the door and the person on the other end rang the doorbell again.
“Who would dare darken my doorstep?” He demanded, deep voice sounding loud in the quiet entrance.
It was quiet for a moment, before a voice he somewhat recognized blurted out. “Holy shit your voice is way different in real life!”
Eyes widening, Gundham jerked the door to find a man he had never seen before standing before him with a big box and a ratty backpack in his arms. All he saw was a shock of bright pink hair, before the other rushed past him inside. It distantly reminded Gundham of a stray cat bounding into an open door.
“Its fucking freezing out there!” The man - Kazuichi - said as he placed his heavy load down by the shoe rack. “But at least it hasn’t snowed yet. Can’t imagine having to carry this bad boy up three stories and with snow. My clumsy ass would've planted in your parking lot.”
Gundham just watched him, his face slackened with confused surprise as the other puttered and began to take his jacket off. “Kazuichi?”
The other nodded, giving him a lopsided grin as he pushed the beanie off his head. More of that bright pink tumbled out and fanned the back of his tan neck and it made Gundham look closer at the others features. Kazuichi was only a few inches shorter than him, with bright, light pink eyes that were hidden behind a pair of thick glasses.
His face was sharp and angular in a classical sense, with what looked like rows of sharp teeth that peaked behind his lips - as though he was a predator. Nose and earrings glinted off the artificial light, as well as the lip ring that looked suspiciously like the head of a screw right in the middle of his bottom lip.
Gundham was shocked by the others' appearance. They had never once done a video call despite a full year of correspondence - each too busy and a touch cautious to do so. So instead, Gundham only caught slight glimpses of the other from some of his posts; a tan hand riddled with multi neon bandages, a flash of a toned body in the reflection of a mirror.
He wouldn’t lie and say that he had a certain picture of the other in his mind - had thought based on some of their conversations and his own past instances with mechanics, that Kazuichi would be more…in lieu of a better word, normal.
But he actually looked…nice standing in the entrance of his apartment, dressed in a neon tee and tight acid wash jeans with chains and a custom embroidery of his logo on the pocket. Almost cute.
And from the way the other’s eyes flicked over his over form, the feeling was decidedly mutual. Gundham blushed as Kazuichi continued to openly stare at him in amazement.
“You’re…,” Kazuichi fumbled, cheeks red as he fumbled with a tiny braid that somehow stood out to the veterinarian in the tangled mass of pink. “You are both what I did and didn’t expect at the same time.”
“And is that…a bad thing?” He asked, heart sinking as he started to school his features into a mask of indifference.
The other looked at him as though he had two heads before panic set into his eyes. “Who the hell said that?! I meant that I should’ve known you would wear something goth cause I’ve seen you outfit videos, but the Black Parade tee and the Hello Kitty pants are giving me aesthetic whiplash.” A small, unsure smile ticked up pink lips as he continued. “Personally, I think it's kinda cute that you have Hello Kitty and Choco making cookies on your legs.”
Gundham blushed as he looked down and sure enough, his fading Black Parade shirt and vibrant Sanrio licensed sweatpants did look a little silly together. But he refused to be distracted, so he instead returned to the matter at hand. “I apologize, but I was not prepared to receive guests…-”
“Ah, that's my bad! I wanted it to be a surprise.” Kazuichi began to take his jacket off as Gundham slowly closed the door. “Remember when I told ya I was worried about the feeder being broken in shipment? Well, it wouldn’t stop running through my head the several ways it’ll get messed up, so I decided that I’d just bring it myself.”
Gundham knew about Kazuichi’s affliction with motion sickness and how despite loving cars and motorcycles, could not stomach any mode of transportation, less he was immobile for hours after. So it was indeed surprising that the other made the near 8 hour drive between their homes just to deliver his feeder in safety. His dedication to his craft and customer satisfaction was admirable.
“I am touched by your generosity. However, you did not have to go beyond your limits to deliver this to me.” He said, watching as the other placed his jacket on an empty hook. “At least let me compensate you for both this and the contraption you commissioned me.”
Kazuichi’s face scrunched up, as though he was trying to decipher Gundham’s words. “Compensate? Ya mean pay?” When the taller man nodded, Kazuichi looked offended which made the vet pause. “Of course not, dude! You can pay me for the feeder but not for bringing it here. This is what friends are for!”
Friends
The word reverberated through Gundham’s skull like a bird fluttering in its cage. It brought a warm tide to fill his chest. He felt the heat spread up his neck and face and he knew it would be obvious with his pale white skin, but Kazuichi only gave him a bright grin before moving further into the hall. The aura from before brightened and settled even more on his shoulders and the man watched as the stranger placed his shoes in the rack before bending down to scoop up the large box.
But then he saw how the other seemed to be struggling now that he had put both the box and backpack down and Gundham rushed to take them from him. He watched as the other gave a strained smile, noticing the tinge of green to his skin as the mechanic slowly straightened up, leaning on his slightly for support and making where they had touched burn.
“And since I’m really starting to feel the effects of my actions, mind if I crash here for the night? I promise not to be a pest.”
“Of course. Here.” Ushering a now flustering Kazuichi to the living room, Gundham made him sit in the couch Sonia gifted him years ago that now had scars and tears from his precious beasts. “Please do not overtax yourself further. I shall place this in its designated station and return with something for you to drink. Would water suffice?”
Kazuichi gave a frazzled smile as he lowered himself on the couch. “If it's not too much trouble.” He had only sat for a moment before he was swarmed by two big dogs who eagerly began to sniff at him. He stiffened, eyes wide as one placed its paws on his shoulder and began to smother him with licks. Gundham turned to shoo them away, when the other let out a laugh as he pushed the dog's big head away.
“I was wondering where your pets were. Your house was way too quiet!” The mechanic beamed as he gave both dogs ear scratches and they pushed even closer into his personal space.
Gundham gave a silent sigh of relief as he quickly set off to deposit the box in the now miraculously empty kitten foster room before heading into the kitchen. “Most of my beasts reside in their domains. Titus and Brutus must have sensed your presence and ambushed you as soon as you lowered your guard.”
It was true, his townhouse had rooms that were specifically for his fosters and his permanent beasts so cross contamination would be minimal. The cats must be hiding and distrustful of the sudden appearance of another human, but the dogs were enjoying the attention the mechanic gave them.
By the time he returned, Titus and Brutus still had Kazuichi pinned in place, with the man smiling happily as the dogs sniffed him with avid interest. It was when Titus seemed too interested in the other’s backpack, that the mechanic moved to push it out of reach.
Titus went to follow, but a small gesture from his master made the dog back away with little more than a huff. Gundham’s chest puffed up in pride at the impressed look that flashed across Kazuichi’s face.
“Oh! I forgot I made you something else.” Digging into the backpack, he produced a large ziplock bag with small, yellow cookies that seemed to have jam placed in their centers. He traded it off to Gundham for the glass of water the vet handed him. “You said your birthday was the 14th, right? I made those myself, but I’m not used to making vegan stuff so you gotta tell me if it's good or not. I made them with papaya and I’m used to using that as a filling but my roommate said it was ok -”
And as Kazuichi continued to ramble, face bright pink as he cycled between fumbling with his braid, petting his dogs and looking ridiculously pleased as Gundham made a show of eating a cookie, the vet took in the scene and began to wonder about it becoming a more common occurrence.
He was surprised to find both the thought and the cookie were pleasantly delightful.
From the warm look he received for his complement to the other’s culinary skills, he knew for certain that the feeling was mutual.
#soudam#soudham#kazunaka#Kazuichi being a dumbass for people he cares about#strikes again#kazuichi souda#tanaka gundham#soudam fic
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Sakusa's Babysitter
Ok so here's part 2 of the Sakusa fic! You guys really enjoyed it and it made me so so happy!!
Warning:smut, age gap, sir kink...
The next day, when you walked out of your room, everything was normal. The kids were still asleep, silence reigning in the luxurious house, nothing new. It's when you made your way downstairs, expecting the kitchen to be vacant as always, your typical nanny day was about to be disturbed. There's your boss, shirtless, sitting at the table, coffee in hand and sports journal in the other. You fixed your hair, tug down on your short sleeping shorts a little, if you knew he was here, you would've prepared yourself beforehand, and cleared your throat. As soon as eyes met your figure, a polite smiled reached your lips followed by a "Good morning sir. I didn't know you had the day off today, I would've gotten up earlier and made you your breakfast. Did you sleep well?"
His response was mortifying. Accusing tone with a hint of teasing. Putting his mug down, staring right into your eyes, penetrating to your soul "Would've slept better if my sheets didn't smell like cherry blossom.... You know I prefer more musky, deep smells right? Did you change our typical products perhaps? Or is it something else?" An eyebrow raised, a malice curve to his lips, did he know? From the way he's speaking to you, so condescending, you were sure that he caught you. And you weren't really wrong. Feigning innocence and ignorance, you apologized, promising to change the sheets right away, and to prove that you bolted out of the kitchen as soon as you finished your sentence, you wanted to escape this thick tension.
Finally in his dark room, you softly closed the door behind you, finally letting out a deep breath. But don't relax way too fast Y/n, you haven't even looked at his bed yet. It looked messier than usual, a weird smell in the room that you couldn't pinpoint, but you were sure it wasn't cherry blossom. Lifting the cover off, your mouth hung open... Did you leave that? In the middle of the wrinkled sheets, a pool of white substance could be found, you're not dumb, you knew exactly what it was, you just didn't know whose it is. And it's a dirty idea you're having tight now, really, you could've just chucked them in the washing machine and forget about it right? But your mind had a better plan, a naughtier one for sure. Your hand sliding along the mattress feeling the soft cotton, reaching destination, dipping a fingertip in the drying out liquid. Your heart was beating fast, loud, too loud ringing in your head. Your mind going haywire trying to convince yourself to get a grip and do what you were supposed to do, but your unconsciousness craving for more, what if you just...? And you should've thought twice before guiding your hand to your mouth, tongue swirling around your fingers, tastes so good it made your eyes roll back... It's his, you can tell.
Too preoccupied tasting your boss, you didn't even notice that he was in the room all along, until a chuckle resonated in the large room. Your eyes went wide, your body froze, and your cheeks turned red in embarrassment and humiliation. That's it, that's the end of your dream life! "Can't believe such a dirty girl was taking care of my children.... Tell me though, does it taste good? Do you want more?" What were you supposed to answer, to say to that. You took to long, in his opinion, your mind too busy trying to decipher what's going on to give him a proper response, but you didn't need to now anyway. In an instant he was right before you, bent down and face to face, a malicious smile on his lips and you wonder since when does he smile like that. "I think you do, I can tell!" And with that you were pushed back, landing on the puddle wetting your thin shirt, feeling it stick to your skin. It should've repulsed you, but it only made the heat in your core stronger. The tip of his fingers, rough from years and years of volleyball, brushing alongside your thighs, going up, up, till they reached the hem of your shorts and sliding under, his thumb resting right between your thigh and your heat "You're gonna stay quiet for sir little one? Don't want my sons to wake up mmm?" You couldn't talk, only nod as he slid your drenching panties to the side, chuckling at your arousal. The other hand fast to push his sweats down his legs, surprised that a man like him wasn't wearing any type of underwear underneath, but that thought didn't last too long, because you were more worried about something else. Standing tall and proud, pink tip already drooling pre, and a prominent vein that you knew will make you see stars. The only things that brought you from you daydream is the sound of spitting echoing in the room, a liquid hitting your sensitive spot that made you whimper slightly.
His eyes never once left yours as he sunk into you, observing your every emotion, from the wrinkle of your eyebrows, your lips parting to let out a soft whimper, a sigh of relief as he barely bottomed out, too much for you to handle all at once. He started with a slow pace, though already making you feel dizzy with all the passion he's pouring into it. Now that you think about it, you never once saw him with a woman, he always said he's too busy for silly rendezvous, that explains the zeal he's putting out. Gradually becoming faster, deeper, hitting that spot inside of you that made you saw stars. Your nails digging into his forearm for support, like your life depends on it. You broke your promise, a moan escaped you as you couldn't contain it in anymore, it's all too much it's all too good. Years of experience showing as he pounded into you, relentlessly to add, the man was showing off you can tell by the chuckle that left him when you struggled to breathe out his name as quietly as you can. The hand that was once on your hip moving up, lacing around your throat and giving it a good squeeze. Your eyes rolled back, your back arched, and the air hitting your hot wet back had you shiver with goosebumps, had you biting down your lips, but in vain, your screams had to be let out.
The man is smart, he knows how to use his brain, but also his mouth "Didn't you promise to keep quite? I don't like it when you disrespect your sir.... Apologize to me right now" He waited for two seconds, his hand teasingly getting tighter, too tight to speak properly, and when you took your time to actually answer him, he stopped all movements, pulling out and ready to walk away, but you couldn't let him slip like that. As soon as his fingers left the already bruising skin of your neck you spoke, you begged, you cried for him to stay, to not leave you, promising him that you were so so sorry, and it genuinely surprised you when you saw a smile on his face, a rare one as he came back. Relief washed over you, but you didn't have time to savor it, he slipped inside you in one swift movement, his thrust sloppier but more intense than before, how is that even possible? And to make sure you won't break your promise again, he leaned in, slowly, almost hesitantly. His eyes bore into yours for a second before fluttering shut, for the first time, he locked his lips with yours, making the whole experience much more intimate than it was before. And you couldn't complain. Not when your entire body was shaking, your soul trembling from within with excitement and pleasure. Not when the knot kept getting tighter and tighter, threatening to break at any moment now. It's when his teeth nipped at your bottom lip, his tongue massaged yours sensually, his hands caressing you so softly like you're as fragile as porcelain, contrasting with the movements of his hips, furious and goal-oriented, the goal of breaking you apart, that you finally reached your high. Your back creating a perfect curve again, arching into him, you chests collided, he could feel the fast beating of your heart. Your nails dagger on his back, sinking into his skin is what triggered his climax, he painted your walls a warm white, the same you saw earlier this morning on his sheets.
You wanted to stay a little longer, catch your breath again and melt into his touch, but your boss had different ideas, ones that broke your heart into thousands of pieces. When the words left his mouth you couldn't help but feel... empty? Disappointed? But what did you expect from Sakusa Kiyoomi other than "Go get a shower and dress properly, the kids are going to wake up soon"...
Tags: @iheartkuroorin @psychedelicwh0r3
#sakusa x reader#sakusa smut#sakusa kiyoomi#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#smut#haikyuu smut#Sakusa kiyoomi x reader
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Dabi’s Missing Heart
So I’ve been seeing two main responses to Dabi’s character as portrayed in BNHA 292, both of which I feel touch on a very surface understanding of his character and role in the story despite seeming like opposite takes.
Take #1:
Dabi is an unfeeling monster created to show the redeemability of Shigaraki and Enji in contrast with his true eeeevil villainy! He will never be redeemed!
Take #2:
Dabi is a sweet softy who did nothing wrong! He will never be redeemed because of this chapter which is so out-of-character!
Note how they both have the same endpoint. I’m not actually gonna address the redemption question much because I can’t fathom what this panel foreshadows if not Touya’s salvation (alive):
I’m not looking to debate this either; I’m just putting it here because I know it’ll come up if I don’t.
Instead, I wanna address Dabi’s character. He’s my favorite, and I’ve been asked a few different times whether I enjoy him as a villain or as an uwu poor baby, and my answer is always both.
Dabi is a villain. This chapter’s rampage is, in my opinion, not remotely out of character for him. But neither is it the summation of his character, and he surely is not meant to make Enji look good by comparison.
So, who is Dabi?
Dabi is kind of a flaming jerk, and that’s why I like him. He’s an abuse victim who gets to be angry and crass and sharp. He pushes people away because he doesn’t want to open up to them and get burned (heh). He’s just like Shouto in that, except with a dose of murder.
Believe it or not, this is a very realistic response to abuse, and very common too. It’s good to see that representation. If the writing was indeed just “he’s bad get rid of him,” well, that would of course be a terrible representation. But seeing a mean victim get redeemed? Now that’s some good sh*t I’m here for.
If you want a sweethearted, misunderstood soft victim, there is one in MHA, and that’s Shigaraki. Dabi is not these things, but that does not mean he’s not a victim or that he’s somehow an unfeeling monster.
You see, Shigaraki is a heart character. Dabi’s the mind. (Heart and mind characters are a literary pattern that is utilized in literature across the globe; it’s not an eastern/western cultural thing. It has its roots in alchemy.) The problem is that you can’t have a heart without a mind nor a mind without a heart. If you lack one, you’re missing half the picture, and you won’t accomplish anything.
We see this with Shigaraki in his quest to look for ideals, something to believe in, purpose to justify/enable acting on his feelings/emotions.
Dabi, in contrast, has conviction and ideals, but eschews any kind of personal connection and care.
So, both Shigaraki and Dabi struggle to unite heart and mind--but they need to do precisely this.
It’s not a coincidence that Shigaraki expressly envisions both Dabi and Himiko when musing on what his purpose is.
Yet Shigaraki is able to unite more easily with Himiko as opposed to Dabi because Himiko is also a heart character. She claims to be motivated by extreme empathy that warps around to become a lack thereof (wanting to be who she loves).
Shigaraki’s motivations are basically revenge for hero society not saving him--which encompasses both a deep internal and external (societal) need for empathy and a need for better ideals. Shigaraki needs Himiko and Dabi. They’re a trio, and all of them need each other to grow. But Himiko, being similarly driven expressly by emotions, is easier for Shigaraki to understand and work with.
The irony is that Dabi is actually a very, very emotional character as well. But what he does (as is typical for a mind character) is repress them, compartmentalize, dissociate. He constantly pushes people away, yet admits privately, to himself, that he’s primarily (and paradoxically) motivated by family. This is emotional, yet Dabi claims he “overthought” and, according to other translations, “snapped” can be actually be read as “went crazy” as a result over overthinking (note: both are mind allusions).
Dabi repressing who he is--Todoroki Touya--is symbolic of him repressing his emotional side, because again, family and emotions are tied together for his character. Now his identity is acknowledged, and Dabi claims to be losing his mind (again), claims that he can’t feel, and yet is completely consumed by emotions. Like, does anyone think he’s being methodical and calculating this chapter?
It’s not just negative emotions (rage, hate) that drive Dabi in response to his family. His seeking belonging and emotional connection is present even in a chapter where he tries to murder two members of his family and laughs off the risk to the life of another.
See, Dabi first asked Shouto to validate his pain:
But like, given the circumstances, of course Shouto doesn’t really respond well. How Shouto responds is this:
Shouto’s words are triggering. And keep in mind I am not blaming Shouto: he’s in shock and he’s a kid. I’m merely trying to explain how it likely comes across to Dabi.
You’re crazy. Your feelings don’t matter. You don’t really care about Natsuo! You’re a villain and that’s ALL you are. Not a brother or abuse survivor. Just a villain.
So, uh, yeah, Dabi then retreats back to being unable to feel, dissociating as has always been his coping mechanism. But that’s not all: Dabi’s been repressing for so long that of course he’s gonna go a little insane in response to the dismissal of everything he’s trying to point out. Why wouldn’t he? His family dismissed his pain back then and now again, and so, without that heart, without those emotions, principle is all Dabi has. This has been present since long before Stain’s ideology came into his life:
Now, he answers this question of existence through Stain’s ideology. Purpose is all he has, and to him, Shouto and Best Jeanist are dismissing that too. Why are they dismissing it? Best Jeanist dismisses him for an ideal: the overall good of hero society. Shouto has a mixture of this ideal and also like, genuine shock and pain.
Back to Dabi. Dabi’s summation of himself and his purpose is incorrect and harmful to himself and others. I’m not excusing him or justifying, just explaining. It’s a tragic reflection of what Endeavor raised both Touya and Shouto to be (and thereby ironic that BJ uses an ideal to dismiss him):
Instead of being raised to be the symbol of hero society--as Endeavor intended--he exists to destroy it. The root is the same: Dabi assumes he exists for hero society, as a tool. He dehumanizes himself, hence why his quirk physically harms him (which also fits his almost religious zeal for Stain’s ideology). But it is not all Dabi is. He’s not a tool, he’s a person, but to acknowledge he’s a person involves acknowledging his heart/emotional desires, and that gets to my next point.
Dabi’s not a reliable narrator about himself. At all. I’ve written about Dabi and dissociation before. So let’s look at Dabi’s devotion to his ideals, the ideals he puts above people and claims he only cares about... because there are moments where Dabi goes against those ideals.
For one example, Dabi’s gone against those ideals when he’s allowed his personal need for revenge (an emotional/heart motivation) to overcome his longterm plan. Like, he was fully about to get himself killed here, even though that would likely mean no one would know the corruption of the Todoroki family and hero society, just for the chance to prove to his father that he hurt him.
In addition, I’ve talked before about how Dabi’s the only character in the entire damn manga to comment that maybe using child soldiers is not okay. While it’s not explicitly stated, it’s reasonable to conclude that Dabi considers the abuse of children in hero training a sin of hero society that ought to be purged (hence, part of his ideals).
That said, I have also pointed out that Dabi has gone after children in the past when it benefits his mission (Bakugou would like a word). So let’s look at four examples of Dabi and his principles concerning kids--since, after all, he claims to be motivated by heroes who hurt kids.
Firstly, Dabi’s “save the cat” when he spared Aoyama.
Why did he spare Aoyama? We can only speculate, but it seems quite likely there are two reasons: 1) hurting Aoyama would not add anything to his overall goal of downing hero society, and 2) a terrified, cowering kid might just have been a teeny bit familiar to Dabi. Here, his ideals--destroying hero society--either take a backseat to a reflection of his personal pain (and)/or his ideal of not abusing kids directly contradicted his ideal of bringing down hero society. But the important part is that in this instance, Dabi chose mercy and the goal of bringing down hero society was jeopardized as a result.
So then why did he attack Tokoyami, Nejire, and Shouto this arc? Well, Dabi does things he knows are wrong for the sake of accomplishing his overall purpose. He does things he knows hurt himself for this purpose. This isn’t new. If he can’t be acknowledged, can’t exist as a person with emotions, then he at least will ensure he still has a purpose.
In addition, let’s look at what sets Dabi off in all of these instances. (Again, this isn’t me saying “well actually Dabi’s justified.” He’s not. I’m just pointing to what’s in the text to explain the machinations beyond “bad guy do bad.”)
Dabi tries to reason with Tokoyami, pointing out that Twice was doing essentially what Tokoyami is doing: trying to save his friend(s), but Tokoyami doesn’t listen (also again: not me saying Tokoyami should have listened--realistically, in this situation, it makes sense Tokoyami trusted his mentor!)
Only after his reasoning was rejected did Dabi go to flames mode. He could have just let Tokoyami save Hawks, but instead he really wanted to kill Hawks and that overrode his other principles. Was this just because of his furthering his goal--killing the #2 hero would help destroy hero society--or because of a sense of personal revenge for Twice? That’s open for interpretation (in my opinion, it’s likely a mixture, because again, it tends to intertwine more than Dabi likes to think it does). His principles and/or emotions are brushed aside, and Dabi Does Not Like That.
Dabi does this again with Shouto this chapter, asking him where he stands on their family issues, and gets brushed aside, and then Shouto goes into his rage mode and Dabi responds. Again, not saying Shouto is rational here or that he should side with Dabi’s murderous plan, but like, his words really don’t come across well to Dabi.
Dabi going after Shouto after explaining things, asking Shouto for help, and then having his pain dismissed is pretty much a repeat of Tokoyami. When Dabi’s pain is dismissed, he says fine, let’s aim for the highest principle possible: making Stain’s will a reality, and damn any emotional ties.
Dabi’s obsession with ideals, you might say, is a smokescreen to cover his own pain. Far from feeling nothing, he feels very deeply. (I promise I’m getting to Nejire.)
So what does this indicate? Well, that Dabi does have a heart and a conscience. But when he lets his heart act, when his heart reaches out, he gets burned. His heart jeopardizes his overall purpose, so he most often dissociates himself from it. But by pretending he doesn’t have a heart, he dehumanizes himself, and he projects that dehumanization onto others (see: seeing Shouto as an extension of Endeavor, when that’s actually the precise image Shouto is trying to shed).
It’s not a coincidence that Shigaraki has been unconscious during the entire confrontation with Endeavor, nor is it a coincidence that Himiko has been MIA. But, Shigaraki wakes up a bit this chapter not only when hearing Dabi spout about how hero society needs to burn, an ideal/the thing Shigaraki lacks, and through a less important but still-ideal-driven character in Spinner asking him to accomplish his supposed ideal of destruction, but when Dabi saves Shigaraki and Spinner.
Dabi doesn’t burn Nejire for lols (not that this makes it better because it doesn’t) or even for ideals. He burns her to save Shigaraki and Spinner, because they are his links to full humanity right now.
(Again, this is also dissociation and projection: Endeavor did this! No, Dabi, you did. You’re perpetuating violence against kids rather than stopping it.)
But anyways, when Dabi calls upon heart, Shigaraki wakes. He lends Gigantomachia and thereby Dabi and the league power.
Dabi can only grow and actually accomplish anything related to his ideals (fixing hero society) through accepting a heart--even though that will likely mean some painful surgery to shift his ideals to accommodate said heart, because pure ideals don’t leave much room for humanity. He needs to feel to actually change anything, because right now he’s just making things worse (hence, the need for saving and redemption).
I know the League aren’t the protagonists of the serIes, but their complaints aren’t exactly incorrect either (if anything they’re almost a little too valid). But through growing together, Dabi, Shigaraki, and Himiko might actually be able to accomplish something, and get themselves in a place where they can be reached and saved by Shouto, Deku, and Ochaco. Because to be saved, the kids will have to acknowledge the villains’ pain and complaints, and do something about it.
#bnha 292#bnha meta#mha 292#mha meta#dabi#todoroki shouto#todoroki touya#todoroki enji#hado nejire#toga himiko#shigaraki tomura#shimura tenko#best jeanist#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha theory#mha theory#league of villains#spinner
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young forever
song: young forever by BTS
first experience: strangely enough i have a very visceral memory of when forever young dropped. it was during finals week of my final year in undergrad. the song released on a sunday in the wee hours (or perhaps a monday? - days tend to run together during finals week). i didn’t have many assignments due that year since my course load was light and i was really just coasting into grad school the year afterwards (at the same institution i attend for undergrad). i remember logging onto youtube and catching the video as it premiered. i was stunned. HYYH pt. 1 and HYYH pt. 2 were heavenly to me, so of course young forever was greatly anticipated for me - the aesthetics, continuation of the story, and also simply getting new bangtan music. the cotton candy color pallet loaded onto my phone screen, and RM’s beautiful voice can through my earphones... i was immediately in love.
every member looked completely stunning. the message i got from the video was... incredibly powerful. the maze. the lyrics. all of it resonated with me, a young woman -- 22 years old -- soon to turn another corner in life. i sat in my dorm room preparing for a busy week, as i was the RA in my dormitory and needed to help my students move out that week... as i prepared for my graduation and transition into my next step in life... i was also shipping out to macau, china for the summer in a few weeks so i geared up for that. this video dropping was almost a breath of fresh air from everything going on. i was able to really sit and enjoy it, but also reflect on my past, present, and the future to come.
feelings: well, i have quite a lot. as someone who has been chronically obsessed with the story of peter pan since age seven, i’d say that youth is something i value - perhaps a bit too much. what’s interesting though is young forever isn’t necessarily about youth in the rawest sense... it’s also about dreams, reaching the point in your life where you’re happy, with yourself, your circumstances, ultimately your place in life. which i suppose most people equate that with youth, the innocence and naivety of it all. for me, thinking about forever young is kind of about that anxiety we carry as we get younger - have a made good use of my youth? did i squander it, getting caught up in the day to day or bogged down by my demons? the worry that our youth is our prime and when it’s gone, where do we go next? retire? it’s kind of funny thinking about this now as I’m 27 instead of 22. do i feel any older? no, not really - i feel the same. the same energy, the same zeal for life. do i look back on the days when i was younger and think that my youth is gone? no. for me - youth - it’s a state of mind. it’s an ethos, a way of proceeding forwards in my life. i didn’t always think this way - perhaps that was wrapped up in my anxiety about getting older. i used to lament my birthday each passing year - god turning 23 felt the absolute worst for some reason. it’s funny now though - how i almost feel younger, lighter, now than i did. youth should be a feeling of unburdened peace right? ideally it would seem so - but the reality in our world today... youth is pain. youth is struggling. youth is stumbling through the dark and trying to figure out who the hell you are, who the hell you want to be. i still feel like i’m stuck in that place, that place of wonder - of reaching out, exploring, experiencing... i feel as naïve as ever despite the pain that courses through some of my life.
so back to young forever - how does the song make me feel? it makes me feel at home. at peace. forever we can carry our youth, forever we can approach our lives with childish curiosity, with the energy to follow our dreams, with a dedication to our passion, and an and endless realization that change is the only constant in our lives. despite the ups and downs that might come with living with this mindset - i wouldn’t want to live any other way. what’s the point of continuing to grind hard every day in the cruel systems our society has built if we can’t at least say we did it with voracious appetite to experience fully our surroundings, emotions, and imaginations?
personal connection: it’s rather hard for me to nail down all of my personal connections to young forever. as i mentioned, i have a really strong connection to the story of peter pan. i’ll briefly explain why and how that plays in here - but i must warn you... if you’re uncomfortable with strangers oversharing on the internet, perhaps this isn’t the blog for you to read. i’m quite comfortable bearing my soul to people i don’t know. for some reason vulnerability has never been something i’ve struggled with - perhaps it’s the naivety i love about myself. anyways... here we go.
when i was 17 my best friend passed away from cancer. it was relatively quick. just a summer we spent together gossiping in a hospital room, machines beeping while we tried our very best just to giggle about boys and lament our torturous IB courses. i’d known her nearly my whole life. meeting in second grade - and bonding quickly over a love for the whimsy of peter pan’s story. we’d gush on the playground about flying away to neverland - where we could do whatever we wanted. explore, sing, fly. but she was gone then. gone far too soon. frozen in a youthful state in my mind. her passing is still the hardest thing i’ve ever been through in my life, and i’ve been through some scary shit. immediately when i hard young forever i thought about her. i thought about how she lived. she was fearless. the bravest and strongest person i ever knew, and still to this day, have ever known. knowing her - experiencing her soul - it changed me. once she passed away i had to be strong, my classmates looked to me as their rock, my parents forbid me to cry, everyone pushed me into adulthood way too quickly. i was just a seventeen year old girl. i was having a crisis - i wanted nothing more than to speak to my best friend as i navigated choosing my next steps after high school. but she wasn’t there, and i wasn’t allowed to feel. i was terrified. my youth was gone. nothing seemed fun anymore. youth became pain as i looked around at my peers who were back to normal in a matter of weeks. giggling with one another, moving along with life. i became a robot. quickly i threw myself into school work. i was already a high achieving student but i climbed higher. i worked harder. i had decided that for the life she couldn’t live, i would live it for her. i’d go to the best college i could, i’d do all the things i never dreamed i could. i’d do it for her. but i wasn’t living. i had let my youth go. i was fading away. just a shell.
it’s funny. or perhaps it’s not. young forever is a comfort song. a comfort song with some incredible darkness in it. the anxiety in namjoon’s verse, yoongi’s speaking to hiding feelings - pushing forward despite what he carries, hoseok’s verse about letting himself go and just giving what he has to keep pushing. their words - that’s how i felt. the song dropped around four years after my friend’s passing. i needed it before then. although perhaps it wouldn’t have “saved me” because music doesn’t save, music gives us the strength and comfort we need to save ourselves (i’m not a fan of taking way my own agency in MY story), it might have offered me a light in an increasingly blurry world.
a year prior to the song’s release i’d spent a summer in china. my life changed there. i lived with seven incredibly bright middle school girls. that experience, i never thought it would start to heal me the way it did. they were under immense pressure (the education system in china is total bullshit)... and they told me “caroline, youth is pain. it’s not beautiful. it’s a period where we struggle the most.” i’d never heard this. the typical western perspective is that youth is “the most beautiful part of life” - it’s where you fall in love, it’s where you get hurt and you pick yourself up, it’s where you find yourself, you feel invincible. but that’s just it - it’s also where you can get incredibly lost (like the maze in the video). not all of us experience youth without pain. this perspective helped me to heal. i wasn’t so alone - i wasn’t squandering my youth, sure - i was treading water - but that was okay. i could cry. i could feel. and so, at this point i began to write my own story again. rather than living for someone else, i decided to throw the book out the window, to pick myself and run like hell towards what i wanted. to accept the freefall of life. that’s youth. that’s the most beautiful part of life. the part where you free yourself from whatever chains society has on you. youth is only associated with being a child because that who should be the most free. when truly youth, youth is that period in your life when you learn to live for yourself, your dreams. dream, hope, keep going. don’t fucking stop.
so this brings us to 2016. i was weeks away from a new journey abroad when young forever dropped. i was doing better. life felt lighter. i still had a long way to go, but some things i’d gotten right. i gained confidence, i navigated my interpersonal relationships with more poise. etc etc. going to china the second time, it changed me more. i did things on my own i’d never dreamed of doing. crossing multiple national borders, making friends with people i couldn’t communicate with. i opened my heart to it all. and i fell in love with myself. for the first time. i fell in love with how completely i embraced my freedom and coupled it with my drive, my passions. that is what young forever is about. it’s about the struggle but the continued commitment to the state of mind that once you’re free - once you embraced that childlike state of being - you can achieve so much happiness.
which brings us to now - how do i connect to the song now? much in the same way that i did before. carrying these emotions connected to this song so deeply into adulthood has been incredibly touching. i’ve matured with bangtan. from 2015 to now. i’ve only grown in how i embrace my youth. sure, i have to conform at times, play the adult, but the motto “dream, hope, keep going.” that’s what i live by. nothing can change that for me now. i’m still fucking lost, but i’m running like hell. i have my setbacks, my demons, my challenges, but i’ve never been so fucking free. that’s young forever for me. thank you for reading my story.
song breakdown:
musically: something i truly love about young forever is that it’s really atypical in how it flows musically and the entire structure of the song. it’s creativity run wild - it’s a story and build. and i love that. it starts off slow, soft, with a sweet sadness. the highlight isn’t the backing track, it’s the honey rap voices. it’s absolutely perfect. understated and building. with each new voice that comes in the beat speeds up. it’s like running. which is fitting. because the story in the song is that of bangtan. the lyrics say it, the boys are worried - worried about how well they’ve done, when they’ll stop gaining success, concerned that all of this life will end, wondering who they are in this - the performance the journey. they are quite literally running towards their dreams. we see this in the song lyrically.
once the chorus comes, we need an increased speed in the beat and the song picks up with the chanting of the mantra. “forever, we are young.” us together, bangtan and ARMY. the song fades into the beautiful clapping beat, the refrains of dream, hope, keep going. musically the song is beautifully understated in a way that can only draw out the listeners’ emotions and highlight the charged encouraging lyrics. the story here is clear and only more illuminated by the musical choices.
vocally: young forever is such a treat. it’s a rap heavy song, but not in a way that takes away from the beautiful second half of the song which is full of beautiful vocal line refrains and ad libs. it’s a chant song. a comfort song. and perhaps that’s why it’s stuck with me for all these years as one of my ultimate favorite BTS songs.
when the song begins we are greet by namjoon’s beautiful low rap register. he delivers the rap melodically slow. you can appreciate the way his voice carries emotion and the tempo of the beginning story, of the emotional journey the song embarks upon. following namjoon’s beautiful voice is yoongi. who assumes a slower rap style initially. he has a few parts where he treats us to shout rapping as well - which give us kind of a pleading emotion - we can hear his lament for the pressure placed upon him as he stands in the spotlight. finally, rapline is rounded out by hoseok - i’m gonna say it - this is one of hoseok’s best slow verses. he offers his usual spicy tone, giving the trap style endings to each line. the emotion hits it’s peak with the punch tones and hoseok’s strong committment to his lines expressing his desires, his drive.
the second half of the song is dominated by the beautiful tones of vocal line. taehyung leads us into the chorus with his beautiful deep register, followed by jungkook’s high tones. the juxtaposition of their voices coupled by jin and backed by jimin’s beautiful melodies is absolutely stunning. rapline takes turns coming in with the refrain “dream, hope, keep going.” all of this mixed together is simply stunning. it’s like hope in vocal form. we have the low and the highs, the singing voices and the speaking refrains. most devastatingly is jimin’s forever ever ever - piercing the background of the song. highlighting the longing - the conviction - to youth - the spirit of it, the beauty of it. the chant portion of the song is also what makes this song so devastating to hear live. everyone comes in, blends together and makes the message resonate completely.
lyrically: here. we. go. a DEEP DIVE. i think firstly, it’s important to start with the fact that we have a song, young forever, that was released as the epilogue to two devastating HYYH albums. HYYH was the epitome of youth themed albums. it encapsulated everything we associate typically with youth. love songs, songs about pain, songs about healing, songs about not being enough, songs about our dreams, songs about being lonely... it’s all there. both the beauty of youth and the beautiful pain of youth dominate HYYH pt. 1 and HYYH pt. 2. then, those messages, those themes, were sealed with epilogue: young forever. why? well, my feeling is this is bangtan’s way of leaving us with the reality that youth isn’t something that’s fleeting. it’s not an age or state in time. it’s something we carry within. it’s how we approach the things we confront in our lives, how we live and move forward through adversity towards our passions and dreams.
now - with that out of the way it’s time to dissect some lyrics. there’s quite a lot here in the three rap verses so i truly hope to do them justice.
namjoon’s verse starts like a story, “the curtain falls” the end of a performance, often used as metaphor for the end of a certain point in one’s life. “the curtain falls and i’m out of breath / i get mixed feelings as i breathe out” clearly the chapter that’s closing for him has been an exhausting one, but he’s not sure about moving forward even though now he has the time to finally reflect and see what he wants next. to me, this speaks directly to where bangtan was at this point in their career. they’d been through the bullshit - the trainee days, the ridicule, the exclusion from the typical korean music system... they’d made it. I NEED U had one awards, RUN did as well, 2016 bangtan had begun to see the fruit of their labor pay off - but with that, what’s next. where do they climb next? what’s to come? there’s that feeling of unease for namjoon. “did I make any mistakes today? / how did the audience seem?” are the next lines, bringing in that sense of reflection. even though now he can breathe - he worries, what’s his impact, how do people feel about what he’s given them, did he have shortcomings? these thoughts flood in and set the mood for the next steps forward. these questions only become more as the pressure continues. the next and final three lines of namjoon’s verse group well together and offer us much more hope that the foreboding in the start of the verse: “i’m happy with who i’ve become / that i can make someone scream with joy / still excited from the performance.” the peace in these final lines, it’s kind of like the rest of the song - starting with the hardship, the unease, what must or has been overcome - mellowing out to realization that things will keep going on. namjoon is at peace with where is at the end of this chapter, he is glad he can stand on this stage bringing smiles to faces, and finally - the buzz of just being able to do music, that remains with him through all of the constant pressure. something about these lines, they’re beautiful.
just like that, yoongi’s verse begins. he provides the same metaphor to the listener. he is standing on an empty stage. the performance is over. the chapter is closing. HYYH is becoming the past for BTS. the struggles, will they be over too as they move forward with their progressing careers? “i stand on the empty stage while holding onto an aftertaste that will not linger for long” he begins - he knows that the high of this moment, the place they’ve reached in this time... it can’t be forever, the emotions of it all are beginning to fade into something else. he then moves on to offer some more insight into how he feels about that unknown of moving on: “while standing on this empty stage, i become afraid of this unpleasant emptiness.” this line seems telling to me - yoongi is someone that gets a lot from recognition, achievement, sharing his works with others. leaving the stage, moving away from this performance moment... it’s hard on him... he feels empty, his moment, his purpose - they’re over... at least for now. the anxiety seeps in. “within my suffocating feelings / on top of my life’s line” he starts to try and explain deeper his emotions, suffocation, a feeling of panic, likely anxiety or pressure induced. what’s next? will it demand more? he’s on top of his life’s line - he feels like he’s reaching his peak, not knowing where to go next, plateau? down? yoongi then lodges into almost a picture perfect description of what society can make us do in moments of pressure where we are feeling anxiety or panic - “without a reason, i forcibly act that i am fine / this isn’t the first time, i better get used to it” he’s going to put on a strong face, suppress how he really feels because at some point there could be another audience, he remains on the stage even if the curtains have closed. he forces himself to do so, and it’s a habitual thing for him. it sounds like truly this is habitual for yoongi - really needing to mask his fear, his panic, his anxiety for the sake of those watching. it tears me up, because it seems like he also knows that this will continue in his future. and the he realizes that keeping the mask on, it’s not something he’s able to do or perhaps interested in doing “i try to hide it, but i can’t.” the final lines of his verse leave us with some unease - they’re unclear - but perhaps they’re speaking to the fact that performing won’t be his forever... “when the heat of the show cools down / i leave the empty seats behind,” so at some point -- the excitement, the hype, it will be gone... those who want to see him, they’ll be gone too, and he’ll move on to what is next. or perhaps this could allude to the fact that the pressure of those watching goes away and he will finally feel comfortable? there’s a lot here. a lot left up and open.
and finally we round out rapline with hoseok’s verse - which leads us into the chorus and refrains. the first three lines of hoseok’s part go hand in hand with one another - they’re a natural progress of coping with one’s emotions and situation: “trying to comfort myself / i tell myself the world can’t be perfect / i start to let myself go.” the chapter is closing and hoseok is trying to tell himself, it’ll be okay. almost like listening to the song young forever - seeking comfort. a home. realizing that things aren’t always going to go his way, he can’t have this moment forever, and sometimes things are going to be ups and downs... the final line is perhaps the most startling, letting oneself go. realizing that there’s some pieces of yourself that are okay to let go, whatever is holding you back, keeping you stuck, sometimes we need to shed that to go forward with the youthful exploration that keeps life invigorating and exciting. or perhaps hoseok is thinking about the day in which he will let “j-hope” go and just be hoseok, without a stage in the traditional sense. “the thundering applause, i can’t own it forever” he moves on saying that this life won’t be his forever, at some point he will need to move on - realize that this moment is down, lose himself to it, and see what is next. yet - even with this knowledge hoseok continues “i tell myself, so shameless / raise your voice higher” it seems that there’s a conflict he’s facing - letting this moment go or screaming as loud as he can to hold onto it, and shamelessly so - letting go of all the constructed norms for how he should behave. perhaps, holding onto his YOUTH even as he grows older in age and should grow away from a youthful mentality. he is raising his voice and hopefully pushing forwards, perhaps just away from this stage and onto an even larger one. it seems this is the case “even if the attention isn’t forever, i’ll keep singing” he states. he will hold onto his passion, keep moving forwards with his music, his voice, his connection to whatever it is that wants to be connected to him - because this is his very soul and being. finally - hoseok closes out his verse “as today’s me, i want eternity / forever, i want to be young.” it seems that hoseok is choosing to be who he is at this moment, his youthful self, as long as he goes on. he will leave this version of himself, this beautiful, loving, hopeful version of himself as his mark on the earth for eternity.
moving into the chorus we have the iconic title line “forever we are young” which to me, it’s about taking youth forward with you in all that you do. taking your passion, your drive, your love, your hope -- pouring it into all that you do and not letting the outside spoil you and take that from you. keeping your passions and running towards them. that’s the core of the message in young forever.
jungkook then croons “under the flower petals raining down / i run, so lost in this maze” bringing us to think about how seasons change - flower petals can fall because of their abundance but also because they we are moving into winter. either way, the analogy of flowers is hopeful to me. blossoms on trees - the return in time. not the same blossoms, but just as beautiful as the previous ones. perhaps he’s speaking to the fact that the blossoms are falling now as the chapter is ending - which leads into the feeling of lost, of being in a maze... but the reality is, the flowers will come again. the can come again. so long as they keep running - there’s a chance for this beautiful moment to happen once again. that’s youth. perhaps you have your ups and downs, your moments in the sun (your spring days) and your cold days... but keep running, keep your energy, dream, hope, keep going. and you can return.
jin then offers the other refrain “even when i fall and hurt myself / i endlessly run toward my dream.” THIS is youth. this is it. that almost stupid attitude of not recognizing when you’re down and out... not recognizing when perhaps you should stop. turning up the energy at your weakest point even when authority is telling you to let it go. this is the essence of youthful hope and energy. even if they’ve failed, even at their lowest point, they’re cementing that they won’t stop until they achieve their dreams. once again. dream. hope. keep going. just keep fucking going.
finally the other refrain that is repeated throughout the chorus: dream. hope. forward. forward. is the direct translation. but, many would say it’s dream. hope. keep going. this is youth. our dreams, childish and pure. our hope, what we pour into ourselves, what we surround ourselves with - the light that keeps us going. and then constantly moving forward continuing even when our odds look bad. this shit resonates. bangtan did it. they dreamed, 7 boys at a small company. they hoped, holding onto one another, working hard, baby steps forward. they kept going. no matter the ridicule, the setbacks, they pushed forward. these words - they mean the world to me as i’ve pushed through shit in my life. i’m only where i am today because i, by some miracle, internalized this youthful mantra. allowing myself to dream, those moments of hope, pushing forward no matter what. that’s youth. that’s young forever.
performance: well this is shaping up to be quite a long post. i want to discuss both the MV and how live performances typically proceed. i’ve also attached to this post my personal video of young forever at the HYYH: the epilogue tour in macau. sorry for my screaming in advance.
MV: the MV is really interesting for the HYYH universe, although the same could be said for save me, which is technically in the universe... BUT the fact that the MV steps away from the storylines and almost takes us into the minds of the characters bangtan is playing is an interesting choice. we start off the video with the boys in a chain-linked fence maze, wandering around, and flashbacks for each of there characters. the overall aesthetic of the video fits with the lyrics and these feelings of uncertainty... the feeling of being lost... wandering from phase to phase in life. early on we see a scene of yoongi burning photos from the HYYH era - truly this song is about death to the past a new beginnings, overcoming the past but moving forward with the pieces of you that are important. the highlighting of the text “꿈 희망 전진 전진” or dream, hope, keep going - making it the mantra of the song. keep moving, keep running. almost it seems like the characters are running away from their demons as well. the members running off into the sunset together? it’s all about endings. new beginnings. but taking them on with determination and an attitude of childlike awe, glee, dreams, and determination.
performance: we’ve all seen the iconic wembley performance. we’ve probably all cried over it more than once. maybe it’s your comfort video? maybe it’s secretly mine (ha!). i can tell you, experiencing this song live... there’s really nothing like it. it’s understated. there’s no dance. nothing like that.
in the performances - namjoon appears alone in a starlight stage with the lyrics scrawling on a screen behind him. the lights are all dark, deep blue tones everywhere, it feels dreamy. the entire crowd is brought into a dream like state. it’s fitting, its absolutely fitting and incredibly stunning. yoongi then appears to namjoon’s left and hoseok to his right to be spotlighted for their respective verses. the emotion is everywhere. the song is even more incredible with a live band. you cannot imagine it. the chorus arrives with a change in vibe, a beautiful sunset is projected and the vocal line appears from the floor. all of the members stand shoulder to shoulder and belt the chorus and refrain. and you would not believe how devastatingly beautiful it is to hear ARMY shouting along. forever we are young. kkum, huimang, jeonjin, jeonjin. shouting together. again and again. clapping with one another. waving ARMY bombs. it’s completely emotional. i cried. i cried on the strangers next to me, that didn’t speak my language. there is nothing like it.
i must also note, the concert i was at we were all distributed lightsticks and banners with 꿈 희망 전진 전진 written on them. this song has been important since it released. it’s the core of bangtan’s rise. it is so important to these boys. and to many of us fans as well.
now - a word about what happened at wembley. bangtan had no idea that ARMY would sing young forever TO them. at WEMBLEY. fans who likely do not speak korean. chanting their mantra to them “kkum, huimang, jeonjin, jeonjin” and singing “foreverrrrr we are younnnnng” and saying they will keep going. they will walk their journey towards their dreams. something about that, it’s incredibly toughing. you and i cannot imagine how that must have felt for bangtan. the moment must have been completely surreal. one of the world’s largest stages, playing one of the most meaningful songs of their careers - a song meant to memorialize their climb to fame, their accomplishments, their youth that they likely felt the LOST during this climb to where they are now. jimin himself said that night “this song. wow. this song helped me a lot when things were really hard.” young forever means so very much to bangtan. it always has. and their fans chose that very song. we chose that song (rather we were there or not). it’s our mantra too. whatever we go through, we are on this journey, and we are not alone. we are not alone. we can muster the strength to carry on with that same youthful zeal for life. watching that video... it’s moving. it’s completely incredible. to be a part of this journey... just wow.
tl;dr: in conclusion... young forever is one of the BTS songs that has the most touching meanings, and it came at a very delicate time in their career. a time when they were finally getting the recognition they deserved and sought for a long time. a time when they were pivoting from “young” to “young adult.” a time when they likely struggled with a loss of their youth. all of this... it’s powerful because it’s not alien for those of us normal people. we all feel this. i’ve felt it as i’ve gone through tough shit and came out the other side changed, only to have to find my way through the maze and back to myself. youth and being young, it’s a state of mind. i think bangtan sincerely know and believe this. that’s what makes the song and the message it carries so incredibly powerful. so meaningful to us all. thanks for reading yet again.
#bts#bangtan#jin#j-hope#hoseok#namjoon#rm#army#jungkook#taehyung#jimin#yoongi#suga#Lyrics#hyyh#Young forever#analysis
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Interlude
>>>Read on AO3<<<
As promised, this is a rather spicy chapter (you asked for it) I was hammering out for a bit over two weeks - thus the length.
I just kept adding more and more random thoughts and end up like this... oh well.
Hope you'll like it :)
Worry, that was the foremost thing on Mikasa’s mind lately. Partly about the tournament, but mostly about Armin, who now knew all about Annie and that he will most likely be seeing her again shortly. She almost bit her bottom lip bloody from it, and Eren was no better. To keep tabs on their friend, they commissioned Jean to stay around Armin, and let them know if anything goes wrong. For once, Jean didn’t complain, as he also wanted to get to know Armin better - it was a win-win situation really. From his reports, the blond was taking the news quite well, and, in other news, was putting finishing touches on his book. But this didn’t stop the engaged couple from agonizing about it.
They both had their way of coping. Eren once again entered turbo mode at the hospital, burying himself in work, while Mikasa upped her training load to inhuman levels. At home, Eren spent an unholy amount of time in the kitchen, experimenting with pretty much everything, while Mikasa cleaned the whole house over and over, anything to keep busy. She wasn’t as much of a clean freak as her brother, but try growing up with Levi and not being affected. Try it.
At first, Levi approved of her newfound zeal in the gym, but when she kept ignoring her limits and pushing past what her body could handle, the tight smile he had turned into a frown. From his office, he could see Mikasa working out at the bench press, the barbell going up and down at an unsteady rate. Her arms were shaky, a sight incredibly rare as Mikasa’s gym knowledge ran deep and she never did anything risky. Unless she was tired to the bone and overworking herself. Levi had to do something, otherwise she would end up hurting. Yet a classic “Go Home” would probably not work on Mikasa, as she was exactly as stubborn as Levi was. Time for action then, he thought to himself, getting up from the office chair.
Mikasa didn’t even catch the gloves he threw at her, driving the point of her being tired home. With the reflexes she had, she could pretty much snatch flies out of the air, but now they were dulled beyond recognition. Picking up the gloves, she looked at Levi who jerked his head towards the ring in a clear challenge.
They spared, and Mikasa was her usual perfect self at first, too fast and too strong for normal mortals to handle. She backed Levi into a corner, not giving him time to breathe. But then, out of nowhere, she faltered, her body finally saying fuck it and taking a micro-break. He immediately took advantage, as any fighter would, should this happen in the tournament, and flipped her over, planting Mikasa on her back. She blinked up at him, confused.
“W-What happened?”, she stammered.
“You lost.”, he replied, voice cold, “Because you keep overworking yourself. Take a break.”
“But I…”
“No buts. I’m still your trainer, so listen to me for once.”
She sighed, getting up from the ground. Even that simple motion was exhausting, and now that Levi mentioned it, Mikasa could feel the burn in all her muscles. He was, as usual, exactly right.
Even getting home was a pain, her body protesting anytime she forced it to move, even when the motion was as small as revving her motorbike up. Grateful for the speed the machine could do, Mikasa got back to her and Eren’s house at a nigh record time. A shower later, she plopped herself on the sofa, staring mindlessly at the Tv, waiting for that certain someone to come home. When he did, she was already in that half-dreaming half-awake state, but when Eren sat down it roused her.
“Hard day?”, he asked, getting a groan as an answer.
“You wanna head to bed?”
Instead of answering, Mikasa pulled herself on top of that heater Eren called his body, yawning after.
“Nah, I’m good here.”, she murmured, face half-squished in his shirt.
He chuckled at that.
“Suit yourself. I have a free weekend ahead of me, so I’m ready to be your bodypillow.”
Eren had free time. She had free time, Levi would most likely bite her head off if she showed up at the gym tomorrow. Hmmm…… They could… They could…
The train of thought derailed when Mikasa fell asleep, a soft snore escaping her lips. She was deep under, not even stirring when Eren carried her up to the bedroom, sleeping soundly the whole night. Levi would be happy.
It was the morning sun that woke her, but when Mikasa rolled away from the heater she was spooning she realized that there wasn’t a single thing she wanted to do. For once, the tireless war machine that is her body was feeling lazy. Eren stirred next to her, most likely reacting to the loss of her touch. The way her breasts squished against his back always brought the sweetest dreams. Sitting up and turning to look at her, Eren let the absolute bliss of waking up next to an angel show on his face.
“Morning beautiful. Slept well?”
“I did, but I kind of… want to sleep more?”
“You want to laze around? Damn.”
“Yea, I do.”, a small devilish smile formed on her lips, “If I remember correctly I’m taking inspiration from the guy I dated in college. Remind me, what did he say he wanted to do on our second date? A nap?”
Eren groaned, hiding his face.
“Please don’t remind me, I was so cringe back then.”
“And you think I was better? The first thing that I said when u leaned on my legs was that I could choke you out, kill you.”
“That WAS weird. Tell me, do you have a voice in your head that goes like: “Mikasa, we have to kill Eren” ?”
She frowned at him, her raven eyebrows narrowing.
“Of course I do. It gets stronger every time you piss me off.”
“I better watch my behavior then.”, he chuckled, “Anyway, I admit that we had certain issues to work through, but I’m glad we managed.”
“We sure did. So…”, she tugged at his arm, getting Eren to lie back down, “Stay with me?”
His beloved was always like this, especially earlier in their relationship. During college, Mikasa was so touch starved that she would just cling to his arm anytime they were together, going completely against her usual ice queen facade. Keeping his cool around the campus was impossible, because even when he was staring at his phone Eren was hyperaware of her body very, very close to him. And how was he supposed to be “cool” when there was an incredibly beautiful goth girl, with her black clothes, piercings and all that, holding his arm, smiling like it was the best thing in the world. There was no way, so he just blushed and hoped that no one would see it. She would blush too when he looked at her, would angle her head lower, the inverted crosses in her ears swaying lightly, but she wouldn’t let go. Mikasa just liked holding him that much. Reminded of these pretty memories, Eren’s chuckle evolved into a grin.
“Sure, I’ll stay with you. On one condition though, you have to promise that you won’t choke me out.”
“Asshat.”
When Mikasa woke up for the second time, Eren was already awake, watching her with that small smile that made her stomach flutter. She asked him once, why he does that, and he just shrugged and said that he sometimes still can’t believe how lucky he is that someone like her is in his life.
“Rested enough?”
“Mhmm… I think so.”
“That’s good because I ordered us some pizza. Wouldn’t want that to get cold.”
“Pizza for breakfast?” Mikasa faked an outraged expression, “What would Carla think?”
“She would probably ask for a slice.”, Eren shrugged, “Mom was always very practical.”
Mikasa smiled at that, fond memories of Eren’s mom filling her head.
“Anyway,”, Eren changed the topic, “How was training? I wanted to ask yesterday but I don’t think you wanted to hear one more word about the gym.”
“Fine, fine.”, she stretched, moaning a bit when her muscles protested, “But Levi cut me off, said that I needed a break.”
“Really? A damn shame that.”
“Why?”
“I like watching you train. Or even better, training with you.”, he gave her a nondescript look, “It’s hot.”
“You’re saying that you pop a boner while watching me?”
“I’m saying that watching you train, or fight, is fucking beautiful.”, Eren’s eyes roamed over her body, the wonder and appreciation in his gaze would make Mikasa blush if she wasn’t completely flush already, “The way you move, the way you dodge and attack, I never get enough of it.”
“The way I move huh?”, crawling over to his side of the bed, Mikasa walked her fingers down from his chest to Eren’s abs and continued, “How about I show you some other moves I can do?”
A small sexy twitch crossed his lips, but before he could reply to the generous offer, something shattered their little love scene. The doorbell rang. Eren huffed, running a hand through his hair.
“I’ll get it, it’s most likely the food.”
With that, Eren rolled from the bed and went out of the door, only pausing to throw his pants on. Mikasa was just about to follow him when her eyes slid over the dresser, a certain object catching her eye. It was the end of one of their play ropes, black with red stripes. Instead of walking out of the door, she moved towards it, grasping and pulling it into her hands. Running it between her fingers, the sensation was enough for her head to start filling with ideas. She wasn’t that hungry yet, or rather, there was something else she would like, not food. The last weeks were exhausting, filled with things to do that weren’t Eren, and Mikasa would very much like her fill. A plan forming in mind, she quickly stripped from her sleeping clothes. Bare, she took out her collar from its resting place, bucking it tight around her neck. Even the gentle hug of the soft leather made her relax that tiny bit, her body knowing what usually followed once she was collared. Finding a nice location in front of the bed and kneeling down, Mikasa had to bite her bottom lip to keep the excitement in. Naked, save for a thick strip of leather around her throat, holding the rope, she waited.
The door opened and Eren was back.
“Hey babe, the food is here, you want…”, but then his eyes found her and the sentence dissolved in his throat, “Oh, I ordered pizza but it looks like someone has a taste for a vegan steak.”
A small giggle left Mikasa’s lips understanding the reference to the dorky code word system they had.
“I would like one, yes.” mustering her courage, she held up the ropes in her straightened hands like an offering, “Would you tie me up please?”
Eren moved closer, the food completely forgotten, but didn’t take the rope yet. Instead, he ran his hands over it, gently touching the material.
“Why?”, he asked, voice low.
“It’s just…”, Mikasa stammered, looking for the right words.
She wanted this for a multitude of reasons. The past weeks had been hectic, with everything that was going on. She had to worry about her next matches, looking through the file Levi compiled for her. She had to keep her training up while also attending various photoshoots at Kiyomi’s agency. She had to sign various contracts that gave her the Hizuru ltd. as a sponsor. And most of all, she had to worry about Annie coming back and once again completely wrecking Armin’s life. Mikasa wanted to just turn her brain off for a moment. She wanted Eren to take control of her, to wrap those pretty ropes around her and make her forget. She wanted to have her mind blown by how skillful he was.
“I’m just stressed out, want to relax.”, she compressed her thoughts into a single sentence. Doing her best attempt at puppy eyes, she pleaded: “Please?”
Eren could never deny her when she was like this, and to be honest, it's not that he wanted to in the first place. He took the rope from her hands. Flexing it between his fingers, his mind already worked over all the different riggings he could put Mikasa into.
“You gonna be a good girl for me?”, he asked, putting one hand on her cheek, gently caressing her.
She nuzzled into the touch.
“The best.”
He smiled down at her, thumb tracing the scar on her cheek.
“Very well, but I do have one request.”, with that, he turned away from her and rummaged through her clothes, returning with something in his hand.
“Put these on.”, he half-requested, half-ordered her.
Mikasa took the item, looking it over.
“Thigh highs?”, she asked, eyeing the black material with a raised eyebrow, “Really?”
Eren just smirked at the absurdity of that statement, not judging it worthy of a reply. This was far from the weirdest thing Mikasa had put on for him, maybe even the bottom of that ladder. It doesn’t take a genius to compare a pair of thigh high socks and a skintight latex bodysuit. Eren saw these when he was doing laundry one day, and one discovery later he was hellbent in seeing his fiancé in these, knowing that she would look just amazing. And, judging now, as he was watching her put them on, he was very much correct. With her excited half-smile, Mikasa did just as he wanted, pulling the material over her long legs.
“Here.”, she said, flexing her covered toes at him, “Happy?”
“Immensely. Now…”, he approached her, a predatory grin sneaking onto his features, “Let’s get started.”
It still astonished her how good Eren got with this. Remembering their first time, how long it took him to wrap her up, how many times he had to consult the book, what was happening now was a quite different experience. Eren had determination, magical hands and a very willing model to work with, and he perfected his skills to the highest degree. The rope slid over her skin, tightening in just the right places as Eren was tying her with practiced motions. It was faster, but not too fast, the tempo just enough that Mikasa could close her eyes and feel every single touch, but not too slow so she wouldn’t get bored or restless.
Shibari was amazing especially because she could enjoy it like this. With handcuffs or other bondage gear they had, it took next to no time to lock the sub into it. Tighten a clamp, close a buckle and it was done. With ropes, it was way slower, especially thanks to the intricate design Eren was doing, but incredibly worth it. Eyes closed, she focused on her body, feeling each rub of the rope against her skin. Eren didn’t even touch her yet but Mikasa was already high on this feeling, breathing getting shaky.
With every knot, she could feel her worries melting away, retreating for now. They would be back, but for now the world narrowed to her body, the rope, and Eren’s presence all around her. The more the bondage tightened around her body the more relaxed Mikasa was, the less she could move the more she felt like she could fly. The ropes felt heavenly against the raven’s skin, their touch soft but firm. The rigging Eren put her into was beautiful, focused on her upper body. Her hands were bound behind her back and her breasts were tied, the lines created amazing patterns on her body, woven by Eren’s skilled hands. Basic yet effective, it got the job done and looked gorgeous too.
Fully tied and still on her knees, all she could do was watch as he loomed over her, a dark grin on his face, fully in his power. And as she watched, Eren took a step away from her, tugging his shirt over his head. With a few more moves, he was as naked as she, once again coming to stand right in front of Mikasa’s kneeling form. Gesturing her to stand, he watched as Mikasa scrambled up, the request made harder by her tied upper body. Face to face, Mikasa was forced to tilt her head up to look Eren in the eyes. Damn height difference. In a position like this, Mikasa expected a lot of things, or well, something at least, but when Eren did nothing but stared at her she frowned.
“What?”, she asked, unsure what was going on. Was something on her face?
“Nothing…”, reaching out, Eren gently cradled her cheek, as he definitely had a thing for touching that beautiful face, a warm smile on his lips, “You’re so incredibly pretty.”
It was crazy how strange he could be sometimes. Here she was, tied up, wearing nothing but those ropes, collar and black thigh highs and all he says is that she’s pretty. Yet it wasn’t stupid, because Eren’s words carried such deep love and appreciation in them that it made Mikasa blush. He meant every syllable. Embarrassed by how quickly he switched gears, from a bondage master to a loving boyfriend, Mikasa tried looking away, but Eren held her in place, forcing her eyes to stay at him.
“Stop that.”, she murmured, robbed of the possibility to avert her gaze.
He didn’t, smirking at the blush covering Mikasa’s cheeks.
“Cute. Miss Ackerman, you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my entire life.”
“Eren…”
“And anyone who doesn’t see that is not right in the head.”
“Stooooop.”
“Nope. Why do you think I tied you up in the first place? Now I can shower you in compliments and you can’t do anything about it.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Is that so…”
“Sure is. Worst you can do is spit on me.”
“You’d probably enjoy that perv.”
His smile was cocky.
“Maybe I would.”
Mikasa sought a way to get her balance back, and spitting wasn’t it. With most of her weapons taken from her, she decided to launch a sneak attack. Quick as an attacking snake, she lurched forward, standing up on her tippy toes to bridge the height gap between them and smacking her mouth right against his. Surprised by the kiss, Eren grabbed her by the shoulders to stabilize, very quickly realizing what’s happening and putting out his offensive.
Tongues sliding against one another, Mikasa gave up on trying to control the liplock and instead surrendered to how nicely it felt. In addition, she could feel something hard poking her abdomen, a promise of things to come if she kept this up. To her disappointment, the kiss didn’t last nearly long enough before Eren pulled back and shoved her forcefully. She fell, body hitting the soft mattress and slightly bouncing. Her tits surely bounced, much to his amusement.
“Hey!”, she protested, but Eren didn’t give her time to talk.
Crawling over her body, he kissed her with much more force, wrenching her mouth open for him. To weaken her defenses, fingers began advancing on a different battlefield, sliding over her sex with deadly intent. He spread her open, dragged a finger through and tapped her clit, knowing exactly what to do. Despite Mikasa angling her hips and everything, Eren didn’t push a finger inside though, leaving her extremely frustrated. The bastard knew it, using the distraction to completely dominate the kiss, invading her mouth, taking everything from her. She mewled underneath his weight, body jerking. Her hands, so used to tangling in Eren’s hair during kissing could only dig fingernails into her forearms. The ropes squeezed her from all sides, and Mikasa found herself growing more and more turned on by the second. Which of course played perfectly into Eren’s cards. The magical fingers danced over her body, featherlight touches that did nothing to satisfy the hunger in her. Getting tied up by her skillful lover always lit the fire in Mikasa’s belly, and this tongue action combined with the right caress stoked the flames higher and higher.
“Eren,”, she whimpered, “stop teasing.”
All he did was shake his head.
“No.”
Mikasa whined needily, using her legs and trying to push his body closer to her. Yet Eren didn’t budge, bracing himself against the admittedly very powerful force coming from Mikasa’s strong legs. The soft material of her thigh high socks slid against his skin, whispering.
“I’ll fuck you on my terms.”, he stated, resisting the tempting pull, “Or I won’t fuck you at all.”
He leaned even closer, the ends of his long hair brushing over Mikasa’s flushed face.
“You did say that you are gonna be a good girl for me, so which one will it be?”
As if he didn’t know the answer already. When Mikasa was like this, craving the dick and full of hormones, she could be very pliant.
“Please sir, do what you want with me.”, she whispered submissively.
Officially in charge, Eren took hold of one of her legs, pushing it high while keeping the other grounded. The forced angle between her lower limbs gave him a prime view of that place between her legs, so nicely pink and glistening, begging for his attention. Still, he couldn’t help but tease her, it was way too much fun. Carefully, Eren pressed the tip of his cock ever so gently to her sopping wet entrance but no further.
Mikasa protested wordlessly, whined and whimpered and maneuvered her hips, trying to get him inside her. But Eren was experienced with teasing, so instead of giving her what she craved he continued toying with her, driving Mikasa’s already soaring arousal into a new level. It didn’t take much, a slide of his cock over her slit, letting it bump against her clit a few times and she was practically begging with her eyes. Neither of them said a word, it wasn’t needed at the moment, the symphony of their bodies was enough to communicate. That and the sounds Mikasa was making, almost like an animal in heat. It was testing for Eren too because having her like this was almost too much. She was so fucking hot, so desperate, so helplessly tied up. Her muscles moved beneath her skin, beneath his hands as she bucked and pulled, grinding herself against him. Just give it to me, her whole being said, please.
And that was about everything Eren was willing to take. With one hand on his member to steady it and the other on the girl beneath him, he guided himself into her, pressing his cock inside, pink lips parting to accept his offering. It was always pleasant like nothing else in the world, no matter how many times he experienced it. Eren gasped in pure bliss as the warmth enveloped him from all sides, making it hard to keep the slow tempo up. Still, he managed.
Eren kept both his hands occupied. One was holding Mikasa’s right leg up high, the other anchoring the left as he kept her spread and open for him. Slow but steady, he kept pushing until most of him was inside her, rubbing the inner walls as he went. Then after getting about three-quarters of his length in, he began withdrawing, once again unhurried. His length came out slick from her juices, appearing from between the parted outer lips of Mikasa’s cunt. She gasped when Eren pulled almost all the way out, only the head remaining sheathed, struggling for air, but then lost her breath again when he pushed back in. Body tensing, her legs shook where Eren held them, toes visibly curling.
Uncaring, he pushed forward, stuffing her and feeling as her walls gave way, body accommodating to the frequent visitor. Mikasa was feverish from this torture, the tempo Eren set was not enough to satisfy her flaming desire. Her head dropped onto the bed, mouth open in silent cries and moans, hands clenched into tight fists on the small of her back, bound together. The ropes kept digging into her skin when she flexed her muscles, they kept her grounded, unable to take control over the situation. She couldn’t flip Eren and take what she wanted. She could hold him down and ride him like there was no tomorrow. She couldn’t do anything, just take what he gave her.
Mikasa was incredibly tight, she always was, but Eren was relentless. The more he pushed the more her body opened for him until finally he touched the opening of her cervix. The rubbery feeling, familiar at this point, let him know that he had effectively hit rock bottom. Now he was completely inside her, bottoming out just when she couldn’t give him any more space. They really were made for one another.
Her cunt gripped him inside her hard, muscles sealing him in. Yet Eren didn’t wait. He pulled out again, almost entirely, and slid back in, only a fraction faster than before. The bump of her cervix was the signal, and he repeated the motion, and again, and again. Finally speeding up, finally picking up the tempo, Mikasa couldn’t keep the long pleasure moan inside her as it vibrated through her entire being. It was still too slow for her tastes, but it was far better than nothing. Her voice quivered, being forced to moan for him again, the fullness inside her demanding it. Mikasa arched from the bed, her body creating that perfect bridge and in response the ropes dug deeper into her skin, squeezing her breasts from all sides. He fucked her, still slow and languid, in movements that were not rushing anywhere. It was not enough, and if she was not tied up, Mikasa would have taken control of this long ago, she would….
Out of nowhere, the nice cock she was enjoying disappeared. It was gone from her heat and she was painfully empty, inner muscles clenching on nothing. Mikasa whined at the loss completely unsatisfied, loudly protesting. And again, Eren ignored her. His hand appeared, pulling hard at the ropes and she was, against her will, pulled into a kneeling position. Eren must have stood up, she realized, because facing her was not his head, but his fully erect length instead, glistening with both of their juices. The hand that pulled her body upright moved into Mikasa’s hair, taking a firm hold of the red and black strands.
“Suck me clean.”, he ordered her, exactly as demanding as Mikasa liked him to be.
With her hands tied and in a position like this, she didn’t have much choice in the matter to begin with. It was rather obvious - if she wanted to get it back inside her, she had to obey. So saying nothing, starved as she was, her cheeks red from the teasing half-fuck she got, Mikasa opened her mouth and took his throbbing cock head into her mouth. Her pink lips and warm mouth took more and more in, inch by inch she reached about halfway of Eren’s length before pulling back. The skin that was already wet from her cunt got even wetter by her mouth. Mikasa puckered her lips and spat on the cockhead where the clear droplets of pre-cum were oozing from the tip. And then she kept going.
Keeping her eyes open, she ran her tongue slowly along the underside, knowing it is a very sensitive area. Mikasa licked him some more, like an eager cat, cleaning him exactly as she was ordered to. Then she wrapped those heavenly lips back on the swollen tip, and descended once again, mouth taking in his girth. She sucked on what was inside her, hard, making Eren groan above her, the fist in her hair tightening. He didn’t lead her, he didn’t have to, Mikasa was more than fulfilling any expectation he had.
With her mouth full of cock, Mikasa established eye contact, keeping it as she sunk lower and lower, taking more of Eren inside her mouth. Soon that was out of space, however, yet she kept going, the tip reaching the depths of her relaxed throat. Eren swore when he felt that, his eyes trained on her face, watching her pleasure him. If this was not erotic, then nothing else was.
Since her hands were tied, Mikasa couldn’t cup his balls as she usually did while giving a blowjob, couldn’t play with them, so she did her best to make up for it. The raven sucked harder and began bobbing her head, starting slowly but picking up speed. Before long the wet noise echoed in the room. From his vantage point above her, Eren had a prime view of her small, perky breasts, so nicely tied by the black and red rope, as they heaved with her efforts, nipples hard like small diamonds.
In short, Mikasa was pretty fucking good at cocksucking. She was, if anything, too good, and Eren was starting to lose himself to the feeling of her lips, her tongue adventurous as she explored all of his length. Even the light graze of teeth on the head had him gritting his own teeth. He could cum in her mouth, Eren knew that she would take it, but that wasn’t on the agenda. So, with great effort, Eren pulled at her hair, getting her greedy mouth away from his length which was now slick and completely covered in her spit.
Before she could question him, he flipped her over roughly with a strength that she wasn’t in a state to resist, Mikasa’s knees scrambling on the bedding. Eren kneeled behind her, guiding himself with one hand as he aimed for the dripping prize. The “What” died in favor of a long groan when he pushed right back inside her wet cunt, giving Mikasa no time to rest. With her hands tied behind her back, she couldn’t even brace herself against the punishing pace he set, fucking her with a clear purpose on mind. Her body shook, assaulted like this, face boiling red. As her muscles involuntarily clenched, Eren watched the tattooed wings on Mikasa’s back ripple, almost like flapping, trying to get away. But she was not going anywhere. Her hands clenched around nothing, black fingernails digging into her skin, and at the same time she tried biting into the covers to muffle herself. A motion that was not needed, as they were alone and Eren did not approve of unnecessary silence. One hand holding her waist, helping her trembling knees brace against the unrelenting assault, he reached out with the other, tangling it in her short midnight hair, now all shiny with sweat. With a yank, he brought her head up.
“Don’t.”, he growled, “Scream for me.”
And scream she did, when those deepest parts of her kept being rammed, over and over, her mind clouding over with pure and raw pleasure. Mikasa liked doggystyle, liked being taken from behind, liked the depth it allowed Eren to reach. It was even better now because Eren had that special angle figured out, that one she liked the most. He also knew that she liked being prepared first before the real rough pounding and did that too with the earlier teasing. All the checkmarks were there, all the optional objectives completed, and Mikasa was getting it exactly as she liked it. Her body was losing control, even her knees were faltering, and Eren was forced to let go of her hair to keep her ass up. Mikasa’s upper body, now with nothing anchoring it, flopped back on the bed, but she didn’t silence herself anymore. She moaned, groaned, and cried out loud, giving Eren exactly the satisfaction he wanted.
To reward her, he moved his fingers down, fingering her swollen clit. The touches were light, but in combination with the pounding she was getting from behind, it was more than enough. With each rub, with each time the head of his cock kissed that deep spot, Mikasa was getting tighter and tighter, her impressive musculature clenching hard around the invading length. The fire rising inside her, her eyes slid shut as she dragged her face over the bedding, the impeding orgasm closer and closer. It was wet, very wet, some of it leaking out as he hammered into her, dripping down over his balls. She was being stuffed like a freaking turkey, again and again, full and filled. This, this was what she craved. This was better than anything else, this was the best workout.
It felt like she was losing her mind from the incredibly intense pleasure. Eren kept going and going, so rough, throwing his gentleness in the wind. The caring boyfriend was gone, replaced by this sexual monster who was giving her the grade A dicking. There was no mental preparation she could do against the tidal wave. Her mind was shattered into thousand pieces, her body helpless, Mikasa was more or less just surviving the brutal assault on her body. She surrendered everything, burned it in the fire that was flaring through her whole body now. And with the last snap she was keeled over, inferno raging freely.
Mikasa came, and she came hard, her already loud moaning rising even higher as she didn’t muffle herself at all. She screamed out loud, body shaking, drool leaving her open lips and leaking onto the covers beneath her. Her eyes rolled back and she didn’t see anything, just white as Eren continued in his attack, not even slowing down. Her cunt was clenching hard around him, her feet, covered by the black socks, kicked the mattress repeatedly in her spasms, her fists tightened so much that the knuckles were bleeding white. She dug nails into her skin again, in a faint attempt to keep a grip on reality, but it did nothing apart from scratching herself bloody, a pain she did not even feel. Mikasa was completely lost in the stream of pleasure, defenseless. And Eren took full advantage, prolonging her orgasm as much as he could, touching and fucking her in a way that made the experience the best he could deliver.
But orgasming Mikasa was too much for any mortal man to handle, her body was a beautiful trap that was now fully triggered, the muscled passage massaging his whole length in a way nothing else in the world could imitate. He couldn’t stop himself, no matter how hard he clenched his teeth and how hard he squeezed her waist. Eren was too weak, so with a loud groan of his own, he came inside her, hips snapping until it was all over and they were both completely spent and done. It was a lot, way too much, dripping down on the covers underneath them, dirty and filthy and neither of them cared. There would be time to clean up later. Mikasa mewled in front of him, rubbing her face on the bedding, tired, happy and so thoroughly fucked that even her athletic body needed a break. Reaching over, Eren pushed the sweaty hair away from her face, smiling down at her afterwards.
“Hungry?”
They ate the cold pizza in comfortable silence, sprawled on the sofa. Mikasa, dressed only in a bathrobe after finally taking those damn thigh highs off and showering, had her legs in Eren’s lap giving her tired body the rest it deserved. The food might have been better when it arrived, but this was a trade she would take any day of the week. The pizza was good, and Mikasa was feeling sated on all fronts when they finished. Then a certain idea popped in her mind, something else that she hasn’t done in a while and would like, so turning to Eren she voiced her proposal.
“Hey babe, want to smoke some weed?”
“Weed?”
“Yeah, I got it from Sasha, long time ago actually. I’ve been keeping it for a special occasion I guess, so how about we do it now?”, seeing his puzzled expression, Mikasa’s brows rode up. “Wait, you’ve never done weed before?”
Eren shook his head.
“What about college? Everybody smoked there.”
“Not me though.”
Mikasa wasn’t a pothead, but living with Sasha, who was one, did make her try it a few times. It made her relax, and that was a valuable feeling in the otherwise stressful environment. The need increased even more when she started dating Eren and kept agonizing over fucking whatever they were having over. In time she grew out of it, and smoked only very occasionally nowadays, but if today was not the occasion then what was one.
“Wanna try it then? I still have my bong stashed.”
“Your bong? And I’ve never seen it?”, putting a hand on his heart, Eren continued, “What else are you hiding from me?”
She booped him on the nose.
“Many things, but I believe you’ll get to know them eventually. What about the smoke, you in?”
He was. After some basic tutorial, when Mikasa showed him how to use the thing, they managed to get a few good hits even with his coughing. Getting an idea, Mikasa inhaled some smoke again before leaning over and capturing Eren’s lips in a kiss. He was all for it until she breathed the smoke right into his mouth. Eren got a coughing fit, Mikasa got a laughing one, and it was mutually decided that it was enough drugs for one day.
With pizza and weed in her system, Mikasa was practically melting into the couch, so relaxed that being on cloud nine was probably the best definition of her mental state right now. Minutes passed without Mikasa doing anything, not even moving her body for once, letting her abused muscles rest. She probably fell asleep too, because now she was feeling rested and once again recharged. To see if Eren was also up in the chill heaven with her, Mikasa rolled over. He did look great, rested too, but his eyes were busy, studying the dance pole in the corner for some reason. Which, in turn, gave her yet another idea.
“Would you like a dance?”
He blinked at her, surprised.
“You’d do that for me?”
“Tsk, of course.”, she gave him a slow, sexy smile, “Go, sit down.”
Standing up, Mikasa shrugged off the bathrobe as that would only flap around. Walking over to the pole, she shot a look over her shoulder to see that Eren was watching her intently, green eyes following her every step. Knowing that she had his full attention, Mikasa began the show.
The raven didn’t do a pole dance naked before, but it wasn’t that different from the underwear she sometimes practiced in. Having the thing at home had certain advantages. The pole was still the same, solid metal beneath her hands. Mikasa didn’t do the hardest and most demanding forms, knowing that this was more for show than an actual workout. She focused on the sexy part, doing twirls and legwork, snaking herself around the pole with precision. While she was getting lost in the dance, Eren had a great time sitting back and watching. He did so often, but it never ceased to amaze him. Mikasa’s body was incredible, a well-oiled machine that moved exactly as its mistress wanted it to. Her every muscle worked exactly as she ordered, pushing the body as a whole beyond what normal humans could achieve. She could do that in the ring, often surprising her opponents just how strong and fast she was, and she could do that here too. Combine that with her gymnast-like flexibility, and this was by far the best pole dance Eren had ever seen in his life. If she was doing this professionally, Mikasa would, in his humble opinion, be world-class. Then again, this was his fiancé so he was most likely strongly biased.
She didn’t overwork herself, there was no need. This dance wasn’t to strengthen herself, it was to show off, and Mikasa did that flawlessly. By the time she was done, Eren was staring with mouth a bit open, completely bewitched by how she moved. Dark magic in high school might not be very effective, but this thing was certainly working. Putting both her feet back on the solid ground, Mikasa leaned on the pole, crooking her finger at her charmed victim.
He moved immediately, shuffling forward like a zombie, his eyes only for her. A good spell. Eren hands went for her immediately, as that dance was an incredibly foreplay and it got him fired up good and proper. The location was a bit unlucky, so Mikasa voiced her concern out loud, unsure how this would work.
“Here? You want to do it here?”
“Why not?
“I’m not opposed to it, I’m just wondering.”, she eyed the pole with a certain criticism in her gaze, “How?”
It wouldn’t be Eren if he let a simple logistic problem defeat him. Hoisting Mikasa up, he pressed her back against the metal, eyebrow raised.
“Like this?”
She shifted left and right, tried how it went but this wasn’t it. The metal was digging into her spine, making it uncomfortable.
“No, wait. Let me down.”
Eren did so immediately, taking a step back to let Mikasa come up with a better alternative. She turned around, holding the pole and bending over, presenting her butt as an offering. The arch of her back that she did, the perfect curve, it never failed to make Eren’s mouth water.
“How about like this?”, she suggested.
Yes, even her back was sexy as hell. The chiseled, firm shapes, the incredibly back muscles, the beautiful tattoo covering it, artistically interwoven into the porcelain skin. Coming close, Eren ran his hands over the two flawless globes that were Mikasa’s ass, silently admiring that unbelievably sexy shape.
“Yeah, this will do.”
It would be a damn shame to see such a meal in front of you and not having a taste. Seeing her pink outer lips, ready and waiting for him, Eren decided that it was time to once again bring out his oral skills. He knew for a fact that Mikasa adored them. Dropping down to his knees, Eren met her confused eyes with his own, giving her a wink.
“The position is perfect, but I think that I’ll go for a snack first.”
And he dived in, tongue first.
The pole was, in the end, a serviceable place to have sex at. After the deed was done, they just fell on the floor, laughing.
“You didn’t have to eat me out first, you know.”, she said, but Eren just raised an eyebrow, “We could have just fucked right away.”
“Why not? I know that you love it.”
“I do, but again?”, she trailed her hand over his lips, “You are so generous to me, it’s crazy.”
“Please, after that pole dance? I’d do anything for you, that thing was so fucking hot it was unreal. Plus, if you like something, ask for it, it’s good to be comfortable with what you enjoy.”
“That depends. I think I may be growing too comfortable with sex and such.”
“What do you mean?”
“You see, a week or something back I was checking if my catsuit, the black one, still fits me as it should, I wanted to use it that evening. You remember right?”
“Please, how could I forget?”
“Then you also remember that we had a delivery that day. And when the bell rang, guess who almost opened the door wearing a freaking latex bodysuit.”
“Aw, that wouldn’t be so bad though, you could always salvage that situation.”
“How exactly? How could I escape the thousand and one news articles saying: “the freaky sex life of the Azumabito’s cover girl exposed!“ Somehow I don’t think that Kiyomi would be all that happy with me.”
“You’d just have to spin the story. Make it look like you are training for a Catwoman cosplay.”
“Yeah, only if Halloween wasn’t a year away, right?”
“Maybe he would believe you, you never know. Anyway, why were you wearing it?”, he poked her in the stomach, feeling the abs shift beneath his touch, “I didn’t notice you gaining weight or anything.”
“I don’t know, I just..”, she was blushing now, looking away, “I like how it feels on my skin, even when the latex is a pain in the ass to get into. Once I finally put it on, I didn’t feel like taking it off.”
When he didn’t say anything to that confession, she looked back at his face.
“Not gonna tease me?”
“Why would I? I’m glad that you enjoy it because I surely do. You look like a goddess in it.”
“Goddes of BDSM? That’s what you called me right?”
“Sure did, and we both know that I'm just saying the truth.”
The mental picture in his head Eren another idea, so he continued.
“So how about….”
But Mikasa cut him off.
“No, I’m not putting it on now. Way too much work.”
“Oh well, can’t blame me for trying.”
“I’m not. But we can have fun even without the suit, can’t we?”
She leaned closer, almost kissing him but not really, her lips only millimeters away when she spoke.
“Any ideas?”
Eren closed the distance hungrily, capturing the elusive tease in a wild kiss before flipping them over and pushing her down, fully intent on showing her just how much fun they can indeed have.
She grumbled a bit in discomfort when Eren kept pushing until her legs were on her shoulders, completely doubling her over.
“Are we fucking or doing yoga?”, she asked.
“Can’t it be both?”
Mikasa rolled her eyes at him, and there was no way he was letting that go unanswered. Moving forward, he kept a firm hold on her ankles, forcing her body to bend even more for him, abusing the flexibility she had. Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t protest again, letting Eren do as he pleased. Yet that stern expression fell completely apart when he pushed back into her, the position giving him premium access to her sex.
“Didn’t you learn anything in all these years of fighting?”, he whispered pulling back, but when Mikasa opened her mouth to answer he pushed back in, so all that came out of her was a moan. The bastard.
With a grin, he finished his thought.
“Never forget to stretch.”
He was taking it slow, languidly kissing every tattooed feather on her back. The action was very loving and unhurried, in stark contrast to the bruising lovemaking from before, but Mikasa welcomed it all the same.
“Your back is so sexy.”, he whispered in between the kisses. “It does things to me.”
“My back? Is there a part of me that is not sexy?”
“Nope. You are the perfect female specimen.”, the kisses trailed from one shoulder blade to the other, “So, are you ready for another round, princess?”
“Sure, but I’m not moving.”, she eyed him over her shoulder, a smug smirk on her face, “Do your best.”
She more felt than heard Eren’s low chuckle. It was his own damn fault, Mikasa was resting, lying on her side and staring into nothing in particular when he slithered over and started his slow worship of her tattooed skin. Not that Mikasa was opposed to it, but she wasn’t going to just get up because of him.
“I can work with that.”, he growled, his hand wrapping around her thigh.
And he did just that, parting her legs and slipping in from behind. Yet he didn’t push in, keeping his head just shy of penetration, just barely parting her outer lips. It was a technique he developed, the fastest way to get Mikasa to talk about something she would normally blush and hide her face for. Dangle the carrot in her reach but not give it to her, keep her on the edge. Mikasa’s reaction was fast. She whined, stirred her hips, tried to get Eren to slip into her. He held fast.
“Any reason for your sudden laziness?”
As expected, she answered immediately, wanting nothing more for than for Eren to just shut up and fuck. Literally.
“We haven’t done this position in a while, and I like it.”, she curled her body, sticking out her butt for easier access, “I can just lie here as the little spoon while you do all the work.”
“Miki, just say the word and I’ll do the whole Kamasutra with you.”
She giggled at that, delighted.
“You think that there is a lot we haven’t tried?”
It wasn’t the first time one of them was feeling adventurous, and that usually led to a tryout for a new position randomly found on the internet. Thanks to Mikasa’s body, work of art on its own, so far they have never been unable to do the thing. The results ranged from absolutely terrible and borderline painful that were immediately dropped to some that Mikasa loved. Eren wasn’t much of a connoisseur in this, if he had a preference it was being able to see Mikasa’s face, a cheesy line that never failed to make her blush.
“For sure. Don’t underestimate how creative some people are.”
“No rush, let’s take it one by one.”, rubbing herself on Eren’s length more, she once again voiced her need, “So quit stalling and put it in.”
Pressing forward, Eren filled her, the position and angle allowing his cock to reach a great depth within her. It also gave him prime access to both Mikasa’s neck and ears, places where she was highly sensitive. Taking full advantage he mouthed her ear, tonguing the piercings before whispering.
“Your wish is my command.”
Sometimes, even being the peak specimen, they needed a break. It was a haze, madness, and Mikasa doubted that it was the weed. They were drunk and high, but not on drugs, on each other. And now that she thought about it, she was ready for another dose. Looking over where Eren was, Mikasa decided that it was time to see if her supplier had something in stock for her. Also, she could ask what the status was on the little endurance contest they had going on. There was no way in hell that an Ackerman was losing – as long as she was breathing, Mikasa would never admit defeat. She rolled on top of Eren, seating herself on her fallen lover.
“How are you doing, loser?”
He scoffed up at her, hands taking hold of her hips.
“I didn’t give up yet.”
“Then what was that:”, Mikasa dropped her voice lower, doing her best to imitate Eren’s tone, “M-Miki please, I c-can’t…. Not again… Oh god…”
She interlaced her speech with a lot of groans and moaning to drive her point home. In turn, his hands on her waist tightened, halting the back-and-forth rocking Mikasa was doing to illustrate her point. Not only to stop her making fun of him, but also because it was doing things to him that he was not yet ready to follow through with.
“I feel like you’re mocking me.”, he growled.
She quirked an eyebrow.
“Whatever gave you that idea?”
“It’s not that I mind, but It is kind of hypocritical.”
“Why is that?”
“I do remember a foot on my head, pushing me away from someone’s pussy, because”, now it was Eren doing the imitating, pushing his voice higher to match Mikasa’s “Babe, I-I ne-need a minute, It’s to-too m-much…”
She frowned at him.
“Oral is cheating.”
That made him laugh, the sound shaking his body beneath her thighs. Seated as she was, it shook Mikasa too.
“So me eating you out is cheating, but you sucking my soul out is fine?”
“Well it’s fair, you get to use ropes so it’s balanced.”
“I don’t remember having the monopoly on that,”, Eren’s fingers started doing those small circles on Mikasa’s hipbones, a more or less unconscious reflex at this point, “You can tie me up too, if you want…”
“I need way more gear to do it right, you grab a rope and…”, she made a booming gesture, “Blow my mind.”
Not sure how to react to such a compliment, Eren just smiled. Because what is the right reaction when your girlfriend tells you that you are very good at rope bondage?
“Thanks. I love you too my rope bunny.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a term I found on the internet while doing some err.. research. Apparently it’s a person who enjoys being bound so.”, he tapped her on the thigh, “You.”
Mikasa considered it for a moment but then shook her head.
“Nope, I don’t like it. Drop it.”
“Really? It’s kinda cute…”
However, she was decided. Reaching over Eren’s chest, she tapped him, hard, right in the middle. At the same time, her voice got filled with that murderous low tone that always made Eren shiver, and not in a good way. Mikasa was terrifying when she wanted to be and it didn’t matter that she was naked and seated on top of him. It was like flipping a switch – at first, she was the sexiest thing alive and then switch she made Eren want to salute and straighten his back while also cowering in fear at the same time. One of a kind.
“Drop. It.”
Well, he tried.
“Yes my queen.”
She rewarded him with a smile.
“Now that’s more like it. Know your place, fuckboy.”
“Really?”
“You’re experimenting, I’m experimenting. But don’t worry, I don’t like that one either, I think that I’ll stick with Eren.”
He snorted beneath her.
“Thanks.”
Pleased by how quickly he obeyed, Mikasa ran her hands over his firm body, stopping the cup his once again hard member.
“Now look,”, she purred, “ Is this for me?”
She was so immersed in the kiss that she didn’t even realize where Eren was taking her. But when Mikasa’s naked skin slid along something slightly fuzzy and soft, she had to break away to see. Oh. A pool table. Her thoughts got jumbled right after, because after Eren so unceremoniously dumped her on the table, he parted her thighs and bowed his head, going to work. Eren was an artist with his mouth, so whatever Mikasa wanted to ask was promptly forgotten, and didn’t resurface until after she came, her body writhing on top of that strange new surface.
“Why do we even have a pool table?”, she panted the question out, “It’s not like we use it.”
Eren looked like he didn’t want to answer, too absorbed in lining himself up properly, not even bothering with wiping his face. But when Mikasa tugged on his hair, he did raise his eyes.
“We are using it right now.”, he said, making Mikasa giggle.
“I don’t think that the table was designed for fucking.”
“Doesn’t matter. WE bought it, we can use it for what we want to.”
He stopped all of a sudden, the tip of his member just touching Mikasa’s sex, only the slightest part inside her velvety heat.
“Should I get off of you and set the table?”, he even had the indecency to smirk down at her, “We can play pool if you want, sink some balls.”
Instead of answering, Mikasa wrapped her legs around him and pulled hard, basically forcing Eren to slide into her in one quick motion. As he didn’t expect it, Eren made the most embarrassing moan, eyes widening.
“Maybe later.”, she said, “For now, forget the balls and focus on sinking Into me.”
Eren didn’t need to be told twice, bracing himself on the pool table, he drove into her, once again taking control of the situation. That didn’t mean that Mikasa stopped moving, her hips were still rising to meet his, her legs kept pushing and pulling in sync with the movements, she was very much an active party. With that much friction given by the cloth on the pool table, her body wasn’t sliding that much, something Eren was grateful for. He could drive into her with more force, a notion Mikasa appreciated with a deep purr in her throat. And when she closed her eyes and craned her neck, getting closer and closer to the edge, a single thought flashed through her mind.
You know what, maybe the pool table wasn’t such a bad investment.
His fingers trailed her ass, passing her sex and moving until the tips pressed against the other hole.
“What about here?”, Eren asked, “Another thing we haven’t done in a while.”
True enough, and Mikasa nodded almost enthusiastically. She did remember that it could feel really good, with adequate preparation that is, and Eren was trained enough to know that.
“Get the lube.”
While Eren retrieved the item, Mikasa scrambled herself up to the hands and knees position, presenting her ass the best she could. Eren appreciated it with a hum and gentle caress of her butt. The fingers that probed into her Mikasa expected, relaxing her muscles and pushing back to help Eren slide in. At this point, they were rather experienced with this. After one finger came two, stretching her out in preparation for the sex. Or so she thought. Wrongly, because the next thing that came after Eren withdrew his hand wasn’t his cock, unless it froze when Mikasa wasn’t looking. The object was warmed a bit, by his mouth she guessed, but still colder than what she thought was going to slip inside her. It wasn’t that hard to guess that it was a plug.
“I th-thought we are going to f-fuck.”, she panted out, words hard to form while Eren worked the toy into her butt.
“You said it yourself, there is no rush.”, he pulled back a bit, once again stretching her with the widest part, “I want you to be prepared.”
Eren had a plan, and when he had a plan Mikasa didn’t argue. It was much more fun to simply play along. Once she was properly plugged, Eren smirked on the image in front of him. The toy had a heart-shaped decoration at the end, which was now settled between her cheeks, creating a rather pleasing view. This stage done, he stood up, meeting Mikasa’s unsteady gaze and red cheeks.
“Wanna watch a movie?”
The stare she gave him was hilarious, but Eren didn’t blame her. It was a strange thing to ask. In way of answering the unspoken “What the fuck?” question, he fished out the toy’s remote control from his pocket.
“I promise it’s gonna be fun.”
Seeing that he was completely serious, Mikasa let out a frustrated laugh, shaking her head. Eren was impossible sometimes. Getting up from her compromising position, she had to bite her bottom lip to keep the moan the toy’s shift inside her produced. And she played along.
“Okay, let me get dressed.”
Eren wasn’t lying, the movie was fun, made even better by the random vibration that certain someone kept sending through her body, building that mountain of frustration inside her. Yet she held, knowing that this was the game, a small friendly wager if she could hold herself back until it was over. In her stubbornness, she couldn’t let the smug devil that was her boyfriend have this one. Yet as soon as the movie was over, Mikasa was right on top of him, growling in the animalistic desire.
“Get your fucking dick out.”
And for the second time in a few hours, Eren had the feeling that disagreeing would cost him a few broken bones. Only a feeling, as Mikasa wouldn’t hurt him, but it was there and it made him shiver once again. Angry Mikasa was scary, and horny Mikasa wasn’t that far behind. Making peace with his fate, which was some incredible anal sex with Mikasa’s firm and shapely backside, Eren surrendered, saying the same phrase that he did not that long ago.
“Yes my queen.”
It was sunny outside, which meant that it was day, yet Mikasa could not care less. She didn’t know if Eren was passed out or not, lying next to her in their love nest, or if he was simply silently recharging for the next round. She was tired, beyond tired even, but in the best of ways, worn out by the most pleasant physical activity she knew besides fighting. They’ve been at this for what, hours? Days? Mikasa lost count on how many times they finished each other off. If there ever was marathon sex than this was it. In accordance with her previous wish, Eren found an article online and they tried several new positions as well as dusted off some places they haven’t had sex on in a while. She was satisfied in every way, and it was only the stupid competition they had that made her reach out, poking Eren in the crotch. He groaned, eyes opening to look into hers. Grey meeting green, Mikasa smirked at him, pressing her palm against the soft member. She used him so much, the raven wasn’t sure if Eren even could get hard anymore.
“Seriously Miki?” he hissed, voice as tired as she felt, “What am I to you? A sexbot?”
With a giggle, Mikasa once again rolled on top of him, taking her favorite seat.
“Of course, why else would I spend all these years training you?”, her hand dragged down over his face, making a brief stop at his lips before descending to lay flat against Eren’s beating heart, “I’m just collecting on my time investment. With interest.”
“Large fucking interest, if I say so myself.”
“That’s how it works babe. And…”, she scooted closer, gracefully, whispering into his ear, “I don’t hear you complaining.”
“Kinda hard to..”
“Besides,”, she pulled back again, “Wasn’t it you who said, and I quote: “blowjob is an art”?”
“That was years ago!”, he whined, cursing Mikasa and her perfect memory, “I was eighteen and just got some action for the first time in my life! I was trying to motivate you since you didn’t seem that much into it at the beginning…”
“Geez, I wasn’t super stoked about having a dick down my throat. Who could have ever guessed that!”
“I mean…”
She waved his protest aside.
“Its fine, fine. I learned to like it anyway, with practice. My point is, you have all this big talk about that and you don’t think that eating pussy is not? You know how many times I had to guide you, step by step, to tell you exactly what to do and how I like it?”
“I remember Miki.”, he grinned up at her, “I was there.”
“Well then you know how many hardships I had to endure to get you to the point you are at now.”, she huffed in satisfaction, once again gently caressing Eren’s cheek, “Perfectly serviceable lover, finely tuned specifically for my pleasure. You know every position I like, every sensitive part of my body, everything.”
She tapped him on the nose.
“So why the hell wouldn’t I use you as much as I can?”, shifting her weight, so more of her naked ass was pressing right against Eren’s length, she smiled when feeling the familiar hardening, “Your body agrees with me.”
“You don’t play fair.”, he accused her.
“All is fair in love and war.”, she countered straight back.
Mikasa was obviously dead set on getting off again, but Eren still felt like his thing wasn’t ready, so he switched his voice into a pleading one.
“Mercy, please. I need to recharge, not everyone has a body like you do.”
A body that was an almost never tiring machine, capable of a wide variety of activities – everything from fighting to fucking and many more. Sex is a physical effort too, and unless Eren tied her up, Mikasa was very much active during it. The thing is, Eren could push Mikasa to her limits, exhaust her just as well as she did it to him, but he needed the assistance of his wide variety of sex toys. Here, skin to skin, with Mikasa unbound and only one butt plug to assist him, he was finding himself outmatched. Not by a large margin mind you, he more than held his own and Mikasa was perfectly satisfied with his performance, but it wouldn’t be her if she didn’t push for more. Overcome your limits, not only in the ring but in the bedroom too.
Yet it was very important to understand when your partner cannot perform anymore, and Mikasa was a generous goddess.
“Fine,”, she agreed, backing down, “ I don’t want to break you after all.”
“Why is that?”
A wink.
“You are my favorite toy.”
The line rang once, twice, thrice, fourth and then fifth time, making Levi frown. Mikasa was usually quite reliable when it came to answering his calls, she knew he didn’t do it unless there was something of importance to discuss. Just as he was about to end the call and try later, there was a crack and a familiar voice.
“Mikasa’s phone, Eren here.”
“Hey, can you give me the brat? I need to talk to her.”
“Sorry, but she’s at the shower right now. Should I give her a message?”
Levi sighed. Of course, she was busy when he needed her - that was just his luck.
“Fine, tell her to swing by tomorrow, we need to talk about the sponsorship shit from Hizuru.”
“I’ll let her know.”
“Good, good. You take care Eren.”
“You too Levi, see you.”
Putting the phone down, Eren ended the call. Carefully, he put it back on the dresser, turning around. What he told Levi wasn’t entirely accurate – Mikasa wasn’t in a shower, but she was very much unable to accept the call in her current situation. The smug smile spread over his face, Eren took a minute to admire her current situation, as it was his handiwork. If he wanted to be honest with Levi, he could have said that his fiancé is a bit tied up at the moment.
Mikasa was standing, or rather balancing herself, on just the toes of one of her legs. The other was pulled up and bent at the knee, secured in that position by ropes. Those sneaked all the way over her body, like a web, immobilizing her completely. Her torso and breasts were tied too, several crisscrossing lines that made a very nice pattern against her pale skin. Mikasa’s hands were tied behind her back, forearms pressed together. Two lines also ran down her abs, between the forcefully spread thighs and framed her sex, positioned so they would rub against her outer lips, teasing and not fulfilling. All these ropes connected at the top, leading up the ceiling where they were anchored, suspending her in the air. Eren calculated the height so the only part of her that could touch the ground here the tips of her left leg’s toes, her weight was held up by the ropework itself. And that was not all.
There were clamps on her nipples, small weight pulling them down. Her chest and abdomen were full of red wax stains, remnants from a little candle fun they had earlier. Even gagged, she made the cutest sounds when he dripped the hot substance on her nipples. Mikasa's eyes were hidden behind a thick blindfold and her mouth was held open by the aforementioned black ballgag, drool trickling down her chin. The silver letters on her collar glistened when she moved her head, moaning weakly into the rubber. Eren didn’t blame her. Pulling the remote control from his pocket, he increased the vibrations on the egg vibrator hidden deep inside her cunt. She reacted immediately, the moan changing into a long whine as Mikasa craned her neck, muscles tensing as she swayed in the rigging. He had been playing with her body for some time now, using several toys and instruments, making her extremely sensitive at this point.
Retrieving the flogger from where he dropped it once Mikasa’s phone started ringing, Eren walked over to where she was bound. Her head angled towards him once he drew near, searching, a non-descript sound coming from behind the gag. It was most likely her begging, Eren realized, circling her suspended body. He did a good job – the rope was as much of decoration, in the complicated shapes he created, as it was a restraint -the ropework was beautifully done, not leaving a single part of her body unbound. Even the tattooed wings on Mikasa’s back were crossed over by a rope, completing the illusion of a captured angel, fully at his mercy. And the devil was here to play.
Not hitting her yet, Eren dragged the flogger over her body, loving how she tensed against the soft touch. Her ass was nicely red, also his doing, whipped into that pretty color. It reminded him of the wax he dripped on her, stuck to Mikasa’s heated sweaty skin. There was also the end of the anal hook there, protruding from between her flawless buttcheeks, the clip smartly secured to the ropes around her body, pulled tightly. It was doubly as cruel now because hanging in the air like this, Mikasa had almost no control over it. Suspended, a part of Mikasa’s weight was carried by the hook itself, so the pressure was unrelenting. And when her body spasmed, either from pain or pleasure, it pulled at the hook and it shifted in her, merciless. It was truly a hellish contraption that he had bound his lover into. There was a lot he had done to her so far, and Eren could see the result of his efforts rather clearly. The proof of her arousal and enjoyment was running down Mikasa’s strong thighs, glistening and mixing with the sweat, soaking the ropes that tied her legs, held her helplessly open for him to have fun with.
Inspection done, Eren circled her completely, coming back to stand in front of her. Reaching down, he took hold of her face, turning her to him. Very carefully, he pushed the sweat matted short locks from her face, knowing how hyper-aware she is of his every touch. With your senses gone, the remaining ones tend to sharpen, Eren knew that for a fact as he was often put into a similarly vulnerable position on Mikasa’s dom days.
He was sure that Mikasa was looking at him, although he couldn’t see it through the blindfold, most likely begging with her eyes in addition to the muffled sounds leaking from behind the gag alongside the drool. He had the tied-up angel’s full attention.
“So…”, he drawled, thumbing her scar gently, knowing that there would be enough time to get rough in a moment. Eren was far from being done with her.
“Remind me kitten, where were we?”
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No Country For Heroes (5)
Originally a drabble written for the prompt ‘beg’ by @justsimplymeagain ,this escalated into a full story. You can read it here on Ao3.
Plot: The GCPD turns Jim Gordon in for their protection. Set during the No Man’s Land story arch.
Jim doesn’t want to let Oswald into his head again. It hurts, hurts so bad like nothing ever did before. His head is on flames or feels like being sliced into tiny pieces by the Penguin’s beloved switchblades. It doesn’t matter anymore if he’s down in the basement, strapped to a chair and machinery he doesn’t even begin to understand, or locked in his tiny room.
His nose bleeds practically 24/7 at this point, and he has trouble walking due to his blurry vision. The kingpin’s brawny henchmen have to carry him down the halls and back again, else Jim merely stumbles aimlessly around. He wants it to stop, wants to sleep. Only when he sleeps, the pain becomes tolerable. That is until he wakes, soaked in sweat, screaming at the top of his lungs.
And Oswald always seems to be around, seems to monitor each and every little move, every gasp, every breath. He’s at his peripheral vision, before him, beside him, whispering into his ear until Jim can’t listen to his voice any longer. He doesn’t understand the words, mostly, but this sizzling, soothing, whirring noise - it never stops.
He doesn’t cave though, not yet. He has been through similar treatments before, broke free from Tetch’s hypnosis, withstood his virus longer than most, fought against Crane’s gas, coming out on top.
This is no different, Jim keeps telling himself, straightens his shoulders as much as he still can, and tries forcing his legs to cooperate instead of leaning heavily against the shoulders of men who’d merrily slit his throat at a motion of Oswald’s hand.
The Penguin is already there, standing in the corner, partially covered by dark shadows, partially accentuated by light. It’s not even bright, probably nothing more than a measly lamp, but it hurts Jim’s eyes.
The figure approaches, rubbing a weary hand over his face. The corner of Oswald’s mouth twitches as he limps slowly across the floor. There’s a tremble in his leg and Jim wonders if that’s his doing, the gunshot wound. He straightens up more with each careful step he takes until the awkward gait is hardly perceivable.
Face hardening into an unreadable mask, he waits for his underlings to fixate Jim once more. He’s so close during the entire procedure the cop can feel his warmth, soaks it up in his miserable state, for it’s the only comfort he’ll get in the next hours. Jim leans back against the chair, tries to find a somewhat comfortable position before he’s inevitably unable to move.
His head drops heavily against Oswald’s shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he inhales the man’s cologne, a blur of incense and citrus, that effectively blocks the smell of cold, acidic sweat and blood, takes him back to the only vacation he ever allowed himself, right after leaving the army. Like everything in his life, even that ended in heartbreak.
He rests like that for a moment. For whatever insane reason, he doesn’t shy away from Oswald’s touch in absolute disgust, not like he does when his henchmen manhandle him.
Maybe it’s because they have known each for other years, maybe it’s because Oswald is the only one left showing him glimpses of compassion. He feels remotely safe for the time being. Long, spider-like fingers comb gently through his hair, easing the tension in his skull.
He groans, undignified, when Oswald hugs him slightly from behind, and he wants to ask him to stop, not to flip the switch, to untie him, please, but his tongue is so heavy in his mouth.
“Why me?” he manages to ask when the other man lets go of him. Jim gets it, he really does, if that is what they did to him in Arkham, he deserves to go through the same treatment. What he doesn’t get though is why Oswald wants him. He never showed the mobster much affection, kept pushing him as forcefully, as decidedly, away as possible.
What never can be, must not be.
Yes, there were times in which they worked together, killed together, in which the attraction was almost magnetic. He always felt a bit protective of Oswald, he had something fragile about him that never failed to tug at Jim’s inner machinations, pushed him to risk his life for the criminal, even if he hated himself for it, for feeling that way about a remorseless murderer. It made him bend his morals, give up on them at times in change for the fascination.
He sometimes fantasized, when they were standing too close again, breath mingling, only a hair’s breadth from either kissing or slitting each other’s throats, and sometimes Jim wanted…
And then the fantasy would dissipate, Jim would remember why he couldn’t, wouldn’t, what the other man had done, what he would be willing to do in the future, what he’s currently doing to him.
“Why me?” he manages to croak out again when Oswald turns to put the torture-device into action again, hand already reaching for the handle. Jim thinks he drags out the moment longer every time, probably enjoying his pain more with each day passing by.
The gangster’s arm stills mid-air, his entire body tenses as he stops. Oswald doesn’t turn around, lowers his hand, takes a step forward, raises his arm again. There’s a hitch to his voice once he speaks again. “Because I can,” he replies.
“But why? Why me?” Jim urges frantically. He takes his chance as long he’s coherent enough to form a sentence. For sure a crush from years ago doesn’t justify such actions, right?
Oswald hesitates. Jim sees it in the slight tremble running down his spine. He spins on his heels, eyes rimmed red, the black kajal slightly smudged. He bites his lower lip, studies Jim, really scrutinizes him, not just giving him a slight once over.
Jim has no idea what he looks like, in what state he’s in, can’t even guess it quick enough for the Penguin brings his expression under control too quickly. He’s back at his side, a tissue in hand. Softly, he wipes the over Jim’s face and it feels reassuring.
Oswald sighs. “A friend once told me love is about sacrifice.” He hesitates, adjusts Jim’s rumpled clothing carefully. “I’ve been told I’m not capable of love,” he elaborates sharply, and the cop feels his cheeks heating up. He isn’t sure if Oswald is talking about him, whether he threw those words into his face, unthinkingly.
“That might be true,” the Penguin muses. “But I still want a friend…” He rearranges the ties, makes sure they don’t bite into the cop’s skin too forcefully. “And more,” he adds with a newfound determination, nodding his head slightly. “Gotham taught me to take what I need by force.” He punctuates his last word by pulling at the bindings again.
This time, they go back to Barbara. It seems like Oswald wants to be privy to all of Jim’s most important memories. Somehow, he’s present at the gallery when they first met, standing behind Barbara.
Jim was only there because the army handed out the tickets and Jim needed a day off - desperately.
It’s true, he has never been especially interested in art, can’t even pronounce the painter’s name, Gauguin, correctly, but the bright colors are a welcome contrast to the countless shades of yellow he became accustomed to over the last years, so different from the desperation he felt so intensely he already believed it to be a part of his being.
And then there’s Barbara. She is nothing like those dull colors in Afghanistan, all sophisticated beauty, and when she talks about those paintings paling in comparison to her, Jim finds himself infected with her zeal, listens to this enigmatic woman who has never been deprived of food or shelter in her life before, and decides he would never want it any other way.
If he could, he would shield her from all evil, protect her innocence at all cost.
Everyone thinks he’s after her for her money. Jim enjoys every second he spends in her company, soaking up her knowledge and passion.
He gets down on his knees and promises to protect her forever. Can’t give her money but will gladly sacrifice his life for her.
She gets bored with his desire to be a hero, with his long hours spent at the precinct.
Barbara breaks his heart when she cheats on him.
She loves an idea of him that has nothing to do with reality.
He’d still rather die than see her suffer.
One day, she’s gone, abducted, and Jim almost tears the city apart to get her back home, safe and sound.
When he finds her, she’s not dead. It’s worse. She’s merely a shell of the woman she used to be. A corpse wearing Barbara’s face.
She slips through his fingers, falls to the ground, shattering into thousands of pieces.
Later, Jim will mask the shame and the guilt with nastiness, will push her away, disgusted with his own inability to protect her as he promised. It hasn’t been a lighthearted vow, despite what everyone thinks.
Oswald smiles when her skull cracks, probes her lifeless body with the tip of his shoe.
“You’re not really good at keeping your loved-ones safe, eh?” he states, painting stars onto the pavement with her blood.
“Lee and Barbar lost their mind, your daughter her life.”
He shakes Jim’s shoulder, rocks him back to reality. He seems smug, satisfied with himself.
“That’s enough for today,” he declares, and Jim has a hard time differing the then from now.
The feelings Oswald procured from his mind are so fresh Jim wouldn’t know what to do should Barbara walk through the door, the love he once felt again as palpable as it had been on the first day.
He clings to the thought that none of that is real, that it’s just memories and cheap tricks.
Oswald embraces him again, cradles his face against his chest, and waits for Jim’s tears to subside. He hasn’t even noted until now how he’s bawling like a baby.
“It’s alright,” he coos. “It’s alright,” he repeats, cradling Jim’s body in his arms. The cop pulls at his bindings, desperate to return the embrace. He meant it when he said he wanted a family - so much. And every time he had the chance, it crumbled before his eyes.
There’s only Oswald left now. He sobs wet hot tears into expensive tailoring, waiting for the pain to subside. Every bit of light is too much for his burning eyes, the streaks drying on his cheeks set his skin aflame, and the guilt is wrenching his heart out.
“She isn’t what you really wanted. Wasn’t good for you,” Oswald says then and Jim soaks up the consolation gratefully, greedily. “I’ll show you what you really want,” the Penguin mumbles and Jim agrees, is willing to see everything if the pain just subsides for a while.
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ten questions tag | i was tagged by: @mshelleys, @emdrabbles, @pe-ersona, @evergrcen and @septemberliterature. thank you so much, and i’m so sorry i’m getting to this so late!
everything is under the cut!
@mshelleys
i. if you could change the genre of one of your wips, what would you change it to and how would the story/characters change?
So, trahison already features a ghost and a brief stay at a manor. have i considered turning it into a full fledged horror because of that? perhaps.
ii. do you think of your characters as actors playing a part in a movie or as people in history actually doing things that effect the future?
i think of them as actors playing in one long, crazy, unpredictable play.
iii. role swap your protagonist and antagonist but keep their personalities the same; how different would your story be?
honestly, not different at all, because when it comes to it, the subject of trahison’s antagonist (s) is pretty complex.
iv. are any of your characters based on you, family, friends, or someone else you know?
oh, absolutely. my characters range between self inserts, to characters i wish i was more like, to characters that are essentially walking, talking, breathing love letters to the people i care about.
v. how long have you had your main protagonist(s) of your wip(s)?
I’ve been working with marin, nate and ruby for years, long before they were even called that and were a part of a dystopian crime novel (don’t ask). antoine joined them soon after, followed a while later by beth and isadora, and miles was invented during the plotting stage.
vi. do you prefer to write chronologically or just make a bunch of scenes and order them after they’re written?
it depends on what i’m working on and how serious i am about it, but if we’re only talking about trahison, then chronologically!
vii. imagine the problem in your wip is sorted out, how would the protagonist recount the story to their children if they asked?
with a far away look in his eyes and an uncharacteristic fondness in his voice, marin would turn to his children, and tell them how extraordinary his friends were during his university years—their zeal, their inquisitiveness, and conveniently leaving out the uncomfortable loyalty they all had towards each other, until time and life’s commands separated them.
viii. favorite (non-spoilery) line(s) of your current wip(s)?
This small bit of description, albeit a little purple prose-y, is one that i’m very, very proud of.
“ The morning rain had made its grave in the dirt, the bittersweet smell—like exotic black tea—rising into the air. It was the night pluviophiles came to dance. If I think hard, I can still taste the ghost of the raindrops on my tongue and sense Beth’s radiating warmth beside me; its own ghost ” - trahison, chapter three
ix. if your wip was a movie, could you see it be done in the 70s, 80s, 90s, 2000s, or 2010s? why that decade in particular?
so, fun fact, i hadn’t decided when to set trahison (see: the big question mark in my plotting notebook) but i have recently made up my mind and decided to set it in the seventies! if it was a film, then i could see it being made in seventies france! very a la the dreamers.
x. are you able to just make up a story on the spot, or do you need help (plot generators or other outside influences)?
sometimes i’ll take the help of prompts or media, but otherwise i just come up with things on my own!
@emdrabbles
i. what do the names of your main characters mean? did you pick them for the meaning or another reason?
i picked the trahison characters’ names based on two things: how much it related to the character’s backstory or personality, and how pleasing it sounded out loud. here are the meanings of their names:
marin — of the sea
ruby — deep red; precious stone; behold a son
elizabeth — god is my oath
nathaniel — gift from god
antoine — priceless one; beyond praise
isadora — gift of Isis
ii. what book are you currently reading?
I’m currently reading the time machine by h.g wells!
iii. last sentence written?
“ When the end of the world comes — I’ll film it ” — copycat, or the one where i predict the future.
iv. who are some of your faceclaims?
i usually don’t use faceclaims, but if i had to choose:
marin van doren (trahison) — timor simakov
eloi hill (psychophantia) — maxence danet fauvel
cass parker (penny lane) — monica tomas
v. gimme some worldbuilding facts!!
alright, here’s one: in the world of psychophantia, not only is the magic system and your powers controlled by your morals, but so is your social ranking, your education, and any future you may have—to an extent.
vi. do you outline? if so, do you have a specific method?
i’m a plotter and only really work well with a solid outline, however, my outlines range from a series of messy, incoherent bullet points to meticulous scene-by-scene planning based around the three act structure. this post is my go to for plotting assistance!
vii. favourite author?
Like every tumblr user ever, i love donna tartt and maggie stiefvater, but i’m also a huge fan of f.scott fitzgerald, agatha christie and vera caspary!
viii. what is your oldest wip?
trahison! It went through many, many changes — from changes in genre to changes in character names, and there’s still a possibility that it could change even further.
ix. what is your favourite wip?
every wip i reblog under my #others. tag! You all are so damn talented!
x. where do you get your inspiration from?
everywhere around me! from conversations i have with people, from films and books i consume, from the music on the radio — i like that anything and everything can inspire me to create.
@pe-ersona
i. in one sentence, explain your current wip!
a group of secretive students attempt to become immortal, only to uncover the worst parts of themselves — and each other — as they do.
ii. was writing your main interest or did you have other interests?
although writing is my main interest (see: my social media bio on every platform ever), i also like to journal, sew, cook and make videos! my interests usually do have to do with the intention of creation.
iii. what’s your favorite genre to write? to read?
I love writing horror and mysteries. those are my favourite genres, but i also love reading a good contemporary romance!
iv. what is one goal you have for your wip this year? how’s that goal going?
to finish the first draft! so far, not so bad, though i do wish i could write more, but unfortunately, time constraints plus school restrict me from doing so.
v. how old is your wip? or when did you start writing your wip?
trahison is nearly three years old, but i only started writing the current version of it a year ago.
vii. what scene made you cry or laugh or both?
these lines made me laugh out loud the first time i wrote them:
“ Up the stairs stumbled Miles, my slovenly genius roommate. He grinned at the giggles and winked at the exasperated stares.
The gall of him!
I wanted to be him.
He managed to find his balance enough to reach our dorm. I immediately stepped back to let him in, and to make sure I was in no association with his uncomposed state. Nate gave a disapproving look at his back as he staggered in.
I took another step back, raised a pointed eyebrow, and closed the door ” — trahison, chapter three
vii. how many ocs does your wip have? who’s your favourite?
my main wip, trahison, has six main characters. out of the main six, my favourite has to be nathaniel. he is very much the epitome of pure, and sometimes i wonder how he ended up in the middle of such a dark plot.
vii. you have a brand new idea for a wip, what do you do?
brainstorm, brainstorm, brainstorm. scribble down whatever the hell pops up in my brain, attempt to link it together by a thin string of yarn, cross my fingers and hope for the best.
ix. you are having your first book-signing, where are you?
i’m in a small bookstore, nestled in a corner near the storage room. almost no one knows about this town, so the line is small but chatty, fans exchanging theories and analysing certain paragraphs. the sight of them makes me feel warm inside.
x. you have the ability to live in any book, publishing or not, what would it be?
would it be too cliche to say the harry potter universe? other than that, other worlds i would love to be a part of is the world in my novel penny lane, or in midst of a detective story.
@evergrcen / @septemberliterature
i. how did you come up with your wip’s title? what does it mean in relation to the story?
okay, so i discovered the word ‘trahison’ after hearing my french teacher say it, and immediately knew i had to use it for something. ‘trahison’ means betrayal or treason in french, which is one of the main themes in the novel.
ii. do you title your chapters? if so, what’s your favourite?
I don’t, but I would love to!!
iii. what’s a recent line you really like?
Not a very dramatic or noteworthy line, but here’s one from a poem i’m writing:
“ So the two of you get in the car, proceeding to have an argument with the radio ” — examples of easy solutions, or the one where the internet has no answers.
iv. are there any writing-related quotes you really like?
“i think a lot of art is trying to make someone love you” — keaton henson
v. do you have an idea for a cover design for your story?
A black background with serif text, that’s it. It’s simple. It’s mysterious. It’s the type of vibe I want to exude.
vi. what sort of au can you imagine your story being?
...dark academia au anyone?
just kidding. in all seriousness, though, i can see a royalty/political au for trahison, or a medieval fantasy au!
vii. which oc would be the most angry with you as the writer?
eloi. i really need to give that poor boy a break.
viii. if you had to tell the story from a different pov, which character would you choose?
ruby! she’s the token enigma of trahison, so i think her point of view would be very interesting to see.
ix. what would be your oc’s taste in music if they lived in our world?
OKAY let’s see:
marin — classic rock, so the who, queen, def leppard.etc
ruby — that one person who you’re pretty sure only listens to classical music, but is actually very attuned to modern day music. she would mostly listen to female singer-songwriters, so take lorde, marina, lana del rey, and other such artists.
beth — take one look at her playlist, and you’ll see that ninety five percent of it is mitski, while the other five percent is bedroom pop. she would like very tender, calm, cry to in bed music.
Antoine — same as marin, but add other modern day music artists with eclectic sounds, such as twenty one pilots, arctic monkeys, that sort of thing.
nathaniel — classical music, instrumentals, and film soundtracks make up his playlist. if it has sung words, he won’t listen to it. has little to no understanding of modern day music and is too scared to find out more about it.
isadora — 2000’s diva pop plays in the background of her life. rihanna is her go to whenever she gets to control the party. Don’t be surprised if ‘rich girl’ by gwen stefani starts playing in your head at the sight of her.
x. what’s one personal goal you want to achieve by the end of the story?
finishing it with pride!
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Alright, I am back with the remainder of my thoughts on Lucas’ and Eliott’s first meeting! This time looking at Clip 7: their first conversation.
Here I mostly ponder:
- Lucas approaching Eliott: a study in art
- Lucas' almost painful vulnerability
- How Lucas and Eliott met in the middle (Edit: Woah, it’s like Polaris!)
- The ways Eliott differs to Even (and how his gentleness will be the end of me)
- How tightly guarded Lucas is with people - including Eliott for now
- The different vibe characters bring to scenes: how Eliott’s personality made the three’s-a-crowd moment feel more subtle
- Chloé and Eliott at the altar of Lucas Lallemant
LUCAS APPROACHING ELIOTT: A STUDY IN ART
The way Lucas just freezes at the bus stop when he realises Eliott’s right there, alone, by the vending machine… Oh my heart.
A new infatuation comes with plenty of emotions. Sometimes there is a passionate zeal, but sometimes there is crippling uncertainty and insecurity. It makes the direct contrast between Player Lucas’ confidence with Chloé and Real Lucas’ muteness around Eliott all the more powerful. It is obviously easier to hit on someone when you have nothing emotionally at stake or any real interest. When you do have actual feelings at stake though…
Standing by the bus stop, Lucas has a chance, an opportunity to talk to this guy who has absolutely captivated him. He could just walk away and forget anything ever happened to him in that meeting, or he can just…try and talk to him. Just to see. And hats off to Lucas, because even though he looks so unsure and scared, he visibly steels himself and chooses the harder option so that he will never regret it.
I am just in awe of Lucas right now, because wow, in this version of SKAM, our closeted boy made the first move.
It is just so wonderful (and super sweet) that even though Lucas is so confused by his feelings (and probably scared of them too), he just can’t not approach Eliott. He has a real need to see what Eliott is like to talk to. To know what he is like as a person. To be able to look at those eyes again up close. To hear what his voice sounds like. To just…explore who this guy is.
Yet the first step of approaching Eliott by the vending machine is all Lucas can muster. Eliott is right there in front of him but he can’t shake that muteness to start up a conversation. He doesn’t know what to do or what to say, he just wants to be near Eliott so he just…hovers. And watches him -- always with the watching. (Little does he know Eliott has been feeling the same way.)
LUCAS AND ELIOTT: MEETING IN THE MIDDLE
(EDIT: Well, hello there Polaris. Looks like this section suddenly became more significant than I realised...)
It feels special that Lucas makes the first move to approach Eliott while Eliott is the one who makes the first move to initiate conversation. It is like they met in the middle.
Eliott has known about Lucas for three weeks but hadn’t been able to steel himself to approach him. Lucas inadvertently took this step for both of them when he approached Eliott at the vending machine. As inadvertent as it was, it feels like Lucas helped Eliott there.
Meanwhile, after discovering Eliott’s existence, Lucas couldn’t find a voice (literally) to start a conversation with him. So Eliott inadvertently helped Lucas by being the one to both initiate and lead the conversations between them at the vending machine and bus stop. Eliott didn’t realise it, but he was really helping Lucas out there.
Separately they couldn’t get what they needed, but through inadvertent teamwork, they succeeded. It’s so beautiful!
(EDIT: Okay so Eliott’s Polaris film idea is that two lovers meet in the middle (or at the border of their worlds). Meeting in the middle must definitely be a theme that they are exploring in the show and they seem to have started it early. I am so excited to see how it develops further!)
LUCAS’ FIRST STEPS
My favourite part of the whole clip though is actually the process of Lucas approaching Eliott -- how he slowly turns the corner of the bus shelter while peeking around it... It is such a soft moment, and the vulnerability and tentativeness of each footstep feels so fragile! I want to hold my breath so I don’t disturb this very delicate thing happening.
Lucas is just so unsure and yet yearning so much. Each slow, tiny step he takes feel like a wonder. Accompanied by the soft, tentative piano composition, it is just too much for me. I think it is so effective because of the confident front we are so used to Lucas displaying. This level of vulnerability feels so painful to watch in comparison.
A MUTUAL VULNERABILITY
If Lucas has one brand of vulnerability (muteness, shall we call it), then as soon as we get to see Eliott’s face and body language at the vending machine, we witness another brand of vulnerability (for now, let’s call it anxiety). How can one man look so vulnerable in front of a vending machine! The way he is running his fingers over his lip doesn’t feel like simple indecisiveness, more like a low-level anxiety over making the right decision. Is our Eliott an over-thinker? If so what a parallel to Lucas right now who is also deep in thought over Eliott’s shoulder.
It’s so freakin’ adorable when Eliott senses someone waiting nearby and then panics for a split second when he turns and realises it is his crush. And then sort of straightens himself out into a cooler version of himself. (But still with that self-deprecating grimace/chuckle at his inability to make a simple decision.)
But he doesn’t look cool so much as SOFT! The way he hunches over his money and sorts through it so earnestly!
I mean...
What a time to be alive for Eliott though! His crush is actually standing right there, looking at him, with none of his friends around. Eliott’s mind must have been thinking overtime on how he can capitalise on that and prolong their interaction. So he goes in to buy a second bar, and it is so obvious that it is his plan to try and get Lucas to hang out with him because he is suddenly all nerves again – he forgets the chill vibe and can’t stand still and his hands fly over to his mouth again in that nervous tic.
What he doesn’t realise is that Lucas is just as nervous: Lucas can easily recommend a museli bar to Eliott but as soon as Eliott’s full attention diverts to him, he reverts back to: Can’t. Speak. Too. Overwhelmed. Send. Help. (With these two It’s really a case of the blind leading the blind, eh!)
And then the expression on Lucas’ face when he gets propositioned by Eliott to hang out (which is basically what he had been wanting all along) without having to do anything or even say anything was like: “Well, that happened.” He is almost in a daze. It’s such a far cry from the Lucas who blew weed into Chloé’s mouth without skipping a beat…
I am such a wreck from Lucas’ vulnerability!
A WHOLESOME INTERACTION
We need to talk about Eliott’s vibe compared to Even’s during that proposition though. The Coolness of Even in the bathroom with the paper towels cannot be understated. And he was able to maintain that Coolness the whole time, despite the ridiculousness of what he was doing. Smooth af, man, smooth af. Eliott, on the other hand, is someone who looks trademark Cool at first glance, but whose Softness just completely overflows when you get closer. His “Oh, did you want one? Sorry ‘bout it” joke has all the hallmarks of a smooth line, but that adorable grin takes all the bite out of it.
And then Eliott goes one step further and reveals that he bought the second bar with Lucas in mind. Um, is that not the sweetest gesture? Lucas, this boy just met you (LOL) and bought you food because he wishes to spend more time with you. That is peak Softness and how are you even functioning right now?
Oh wait, you’re not.
Seriously though, how wholesome was that entire interaction? Eliott buys a snack to bribe Lucas instead of using the obvious weed draw-card sitting behind his ear. You’re in safe hands, Lucas. (It was weed, right?)
Of course then it cuts to them at the bus stop and we can see that despite the invitation coup, Lucas is still Mute! All he can do is just starrrrrre at Eliott in peak Shook. I really can’t handle how adorable that is! What exactly will it take for Lucas to be more chill and grounded?
And then of course when he is able to function again, he pulls this face:
We understand, Lucas.
AN INSIGHT INTO LUCAS
As cute as all the muteness is, we need to talk about something else: the fact that Lucas not once offered up any information about himself to Eliott. No name, no grade, no L/ES/S, even though he had several chances to reciprocate.
Eliott is so warm and open with Lucas, so very happy to divulge information so that Lucas can know all about him and *sobs* be his friend. If he had a CV on hand, I’m sure he’d have tried to hand that over to Lucas too. (Boy is begging to be stalked on social media. EDIT: Or on his class register XD)
Lucas obviously wants to spend time with Eliott too, otherwise he wouldn’t have swallowed his nerves to go up to him in the first place. So why did he ignore the unspoken invitation to reciprocate the most typical, basic getting-to-know-you stuff with Eliott? His grade and subject choice aren’t exactly super personal details even if his name is. It is so sad that he is so closed off even with the little things.
Is he still so fearful of his attraction to Eliott that he needs to keep the most basic parts of his identity close to his chest/safe, to remain in control of his identity? The poor guy… (Though to be fair, Lucas did only just know of Eliott’s existence an hour ago so he is still processing everything, including whether it is safe to divulge anything to Eliott.)
AN INSIGHT INTO ELIOTT
Speaking of identity – was it just me or was Eliott’s joke about Lucas thinking him weird a clever little layering for what is to come (since we already know about Eliott’s secret). Or rather, a clever little insight into the insecurity that Eliott must feel about himself to even insert himself into the ‘weird’ joke like that… Hmm. We’ll see.
SANDBAGGING CHLOE
I also just really wanted to give special mention to Eliott for sandbagging Chloé at the bus stop. I already mentioned my amusement in another post, but I may as well include it here too. It was just so brilliant that Eliott had just been opining the value of the common room to a sceptical Lucas, and insisting on how great it is to meet new people through it… But the second a new person comes over to them (from that meeting and everything), he couldn’t care less. He just gives Chloé a mandatory smile and greeting and offers nothing else until further prompted. I mean, what were you saying earlier, Eliott? (You have to love him.)
THE ALTAR OF LUCAS
Also a special shout out this piece of framing, otherwise known as The Disciples at the Altar of Lucas Lallemant. Our son has zero idea just how desperately everyone at that bus stop wants to be his friend and more.
It’s actually really cute how everyone is silent and just gazing at Lucas, waiting for him to do something. Because all Eliott and Chloé care about is Lucas – what he is doing, what he is thinking, what he might end up saying. It’s almost painful how happy they both are just to be spending this time with him. While Lucas has no real clue and is giving them nothing.
Poor Lucas though, being hit by those duel stares with the full force of an angel and a demon. (No offence to Chloé, but you know, she stresses Lucas out even though it’s his own doing.)
Actually poor Chloé too – she was trying so hard to use Eliott’s weed to jog Lucas’ memory about their weekend weed kiss but he ignored it.
Okay fine, while I am at it, poor Eliott as well for having his dreams come true (being able to talk to Lucas alone) only to have it snatched away so soon by a third party.
Being at this altar is hard. ;)
ELIOTT WITH CHLOE: A NEW VIBE
It has been quite interesting to see the changes that new characters bring to og scenes. With different people/personalities (because no one person is the same as someone else), different vibes come to the fore. I found this whole bus stop scene a more subtle experience than the og bench scene, and it’s mostly to do with Eliott’s personality.
In og, that bench awkwardness was so palpable. Obviously you could feel how uncomfortable Isak was, but you could also feel how put out Even was by their third wheel. He actually frowned when Emma came along and flat-out started to reject her with the ‘We’re supposed to be in pairs’ (before softening it).
Eliott was different. Because of his go-to safety net – sweetly smiling – he gives off the vibe that he is just a happy, open person who is good-natured with everyone. It is much harder to tell that he was bothered by Chloé’s sudden presence. He just looked like anyone who is faced with a new person they don’t know – politely wary and just waiting for an introduction.
The signs he doesn’t want Chloé there are more subtle than Even’s – like not volunteering his name after she introduced herself until prompted further, and directing answers to her questions back to Lucas to show where his priorities lay (including the ‘weird’ in-joke, because even though they’ve only spoken for a few minutes, they already have an in-joke. Hah).
But Eliott is just so goddamn gentle! If I were Lucas, I’d think that Eliott was just a little shy with Chloé but totally fine with meeting her and going with the flow – as opposed to mutually wanting her to leave them in peace.
So yeh, as the camera panned away, it kind of felt like three acquaintances chilling at a bus stop, running out of things to talk about. In the og, I definitely felt the tension of ‘ughhh why are you ruining this, Emma’ from both the boys a bit more. (That is more of an observation than a complaint, because I do like how sweet Eliott is with people. For now at least. Gosh, now I am so curious to see how he snaps at a certain character yet to be introduced. I can’t picture it!)
SAY MY NAME, SAY MY NAME~
But before I leave this bus stop scene there is just one more thing I need to bring up…
Did our dear Lucas sandbag Eliott at the end there? Eliott was so determined for Lucas to know his name – he told it to Chloé, but he gave it to Lucas. Just in case Lucas wasn’t aware of the import of this information. Just in case he had zoned out and missed this scoop. And Lucas just nodded and looked away as if he gave no f’s. He didn’t even do the polite thing and return the favour. Total ouch!
Okay Eliott buddy, the bad news is that Lucas pretended not to care. The good news is: he knows your name now! (Well, half of it. Good luck finding anything without his surname, Lucas. EDIT: WOW THE NEW CLIP JUST CAME OUT OF LUCAS HUNTING THROUGH THE L REGISTER AND WHAT A DESPERATE GENIUS. I STAN.)
With that lack of name reciprocation, I am just going to assume again that Lucas is still not ready to show any of his cards while he is processing everything. And it might feel safer for him to act unaffected by Eliott, especially with Chloé sitting right there, reminding him that he has that old curated persona to maintain.
I am also going to assume that Eliott didn’t take it personally and figures at least the ice is broken now. (I say that as if Eliott doesn’t already know Lucas’ name – which he probably does – but it’s the principle of the matter!)
BUILDING A BONFIRE
It’s not very gracious of me, but I can’t help but end this thought-dump with a metaphorical bonfire that I can throw the music soundtrack onto. I just...could not gel with that last song that ruined the flow took us into the credits. It felt like suddenly I was in an 80s superhero movie. I don’t mind some synth but yikes what was that? It didn’t fit the mood for me at all. And I am not just saying that because it is an indie instrumental – Skam Italia used that type of soundtrack brilliantly to complement scenes. So yeh, I’m not sure why that song was picked but I hope it is just an outlier…?
Alright guys, thanks for reading (if you made it this far!) Until next time. <3
#Skam France#3x01 thoughts#elu#eliott demaury#lucas lallemant#skamfr thoughts#feels good to let these thoughts out#sorry it is such a long post though
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Since I decided to cancel this on Patreon, I’ve decided to make a Special Edition version for everyone, with week early access for Patreon Supporters. And this is the chapter that begins it all.
In the dimension home to the world of Sonic Rush, Blaze the Cat is the one to receive the message. She is horrified to learn that she has to form a team or have her world be destroyed. And even if she is victorious, other worlds would be destroyed. Once she calmed herself down, she tried to think of a team. With the fate of this world under her hand, she thought of her friends. Bark. Ray. Jim. Marine. Silver. But she fears that such news would overwhelm them. And with the fate of her universe on the line, she needs the strongest forces she can get. Blaze then thinks that if she gets help from Sonic's Universe. Surely they can give assist in this situation. But she then thinks that what if their world is threatened because of aiding hers.
No, she must keep it only in this world. And despite her best thoughts, she knows she only has one option. Before making that option, she mentions Silver. If she is going to lead a team, she needs at least one person to trust. And Silver's powers have proven useful in many situations. The next day, they discuss the plan and any options that they can use besides it. But despite their best efforts, they have no other choice. On the final day, using Silver's telekinesis, they arrive at the Wily Star. As soon as they stepped on board, lights flashed and a loud noise was heard. They continue to walk forward despite the noise. That is until they were confronted by the Stardroids. They have been rebuilt after their last battle and look to want revenge. But before they could, Wily Nega stepped in front of them.
Wily: So you dare enter my domain! You will soon see that my Stardroids won't be defeated by the likes of you a second time!
Blaze: Wait! We need to talk to you!
Wily: What use do I have with the likes of you?
Blaze: Our Universe is in danger and if you don't help, there will be no Terra to conquer!
Wily looked curious. What sort of plan is she coming up with for such a ludicrous idea. So he decided to play along.
Wily: Our universe you say...
Blaze: A powerful entity picked our world into a Tournament of Power. If we do not win, he will wipe us out!
Wily: If that is the case, why not use your friends.
Blaze: I can't risk their safety.
Wily: Yet you are willing to use my own creations for your needs? Why should I bother?
Silver: The fate of our Universe is at the balance!
Wily: And all you have given me is time to figure out a way to save myself! Good day...
Wily begins to walk away with the rest of the Stardroids when Blaze became desperate.
Blaze: The best fighter of the team will also get a wish!
Wily stopped when he heard that.
Blaze: If our team wins, the best fighter among them will win a wish for anything they desire. Eight of your Stardroids to us two puts the odds in your favor to win that prize.
Wily thought of it for a second. And as if they can read his mind, the Stardroids aim their weapons once more to the intruders.
Wily: Or I can eliminate you two and have all ten of my Stardroids compete!
Blaze knew it was a mistake to tell him that. But she did have a bluff for such a case.
Blaze: You need us! If both of us are not entering, then our world is automatically forfeit. And that means no wish for you.
And as soon as she said it, the portal opened behind her. She thought she had a week but it has only been three days. She has no time to wonder about that now.
Blaze: Its your choice. Either send 8 with us or have everything you worked for gone.
Wily sees the situation. It is a big gamble. He could destroy Blaze and Silver and use his Stardroids to enter. But if they are really needed, then instead of getting a wish he'll be getting annihilation. He is sure it is a trick to prevent him from getting ten instead of eight, but he can't risk it.
Wily: Fine. Jupiter, Mars, Mercury, Pluto, Saturn, Sunstar, Terra, Uranus. Make sure our universe wins. Neptune, Venus. You're with me. If they fail, we must work on a way to escape this universe.
With the team of ten selected, the Stardroids, Blaze and Silver enter the portal and into the unknown. In another universe, one where the events after Sonic 3 and Knuckles went in a completely different direction, Tails the Fox receives the flash.
Tails: Oh no!
Sonic: What it is Tails?
Tails: Our world is in danger!
Knuckles: We kind of figured that out when Robotnik forced the rest of us onto the Island.
Tails: That is not what I mean! Some entity is forcing us to compete in some tournament. If we lose, our entire Universe will be erased!
Sonic: What?!?
Tails: We need a team of ten and only the three of us have real combat experience.
Amy: Make that four!
They turn around to see the young Amy Rose standing there. She is carrying a hammer and have seemed to heard the entire conversation.
Sonic: Amy. You haven't really done any sort of fighting.
Amy: I know... But I have been practicing with my Hammer! I can help!
Knuckles: ...Are we really desperate enough to allow her on the team?
Tails: Sadly yes.
Amy: Alright!
Tails: We're even more desperate than that...
The next day, Mecha Robotnik was planning his next attack. He needs to find a way to enter the Floating Island but with Metroid Tails and Super Sonic, he has been put at bay. As he looked at the Island, he saw a sign being up there. It was to a radio frequency. Curious, Robotnik tuned in to that frequency. It was Tails on the other line.
Tails: Dr. Robotnik, we need to talk.
Robotnik: Are you offering me a chance to surrender? Or is this your white flag?
Tails: Our world is in danger. We need you to help us win a Tournament of Power or else our universe is doomed!
Robotnik was intrigued. Was this a lie to set up an ambush? Or are they truly that desperate to ask him for help.
Robotnik: I am listening.
Tails: Tomorrow, bring your five best machines to the edge of the Floating Island. We need all the help we can get to win this fight!
Robotnik: Agreed. See you then.
Robotnik figured this was a trap, but he figured he might as well use this to his advantage. With his three Robotic Sonics and two of his Egg Robos, he plans to strike them first before they do. On the third day, they arrived on the Island. With Mecha Robotnik is his Mecha Sonic, Metal Sonic, and Silver Sonic. With the two Egg Robos, they are in his Death Egg Robot and Big Arm. Robotnik also has them wireless connected to him so he can command them to strike with just a mental command. To their credit, Tails side is ready for a fight. Sonic, Amy and Knuckles are in a stance in case an attack happens. Tails, in his full Metroid Gear, walked up to Mecha Robotnik.
Tails: Robotnik, there is an entity known as Genisis who will destroy our universe if we do not compete and win in his sick game. And as painful as it is to admit, we don't have the manpower to save our universe. We need your help.
Robotnik playfully put his metal claw towards his chin. He is pretending to consider it.
Robotnik: I have thought it over and have decided...
Mecha Sonic fires a missile at the group. It got past Tails and was about to hit Knuckles. But Amy manages to notice it fast enough to use her hammer to knock it away from him.
Tails: Are you mad?!?
Robotnik: I would be a fool to pass up an opportunity like this!
Sonic is worried of going off when they are out numbered. As Robotnik's forces moves in closer, a strange spaceship suddenly arrives. It stops above the group as a figure rises from the top of it. This stranger then jumps off the ship, does a flip, and fires a missile that takes out the Death Egg Robot in one hit before they land. This person, who also has an arm cannon, aims their weapon towards Mecha Robotnik.
Samus: My name is Samus Aran. I have been hearing reports of Metroids in this planet. And I can tell something isn't right about you!
Tails: Yes... We've been hit with some meteorites. I'm wearing a suit of Metroid and that one is made of the stuff.
Samus looks back to the armored fox and then back to her target. She then stops aiming.
Samus: I believe we have two different definitions of what a Metroid is.
Soon, a portal opens up behind Tails. Tails wonder why is it here so suddenly when they were supposed to have seven days.
Tails: We don't have time to explain everything right now. The ten of us need to enter that portal and face whatever is there. If we don't, say goodbye to the Universe.
Samus: It wouldn't be the first time I saved it.
Robotnik: So you were telling the truth.
Reluctantly, the ten enter the portal to who knows where. In another world, a cataclysm happened that wiped out almost every species on the planet except Hedgehogs. But Rogue Echidnas managed to survive and attack this new world. When the Spirit of Sonic the Hedgehog wanted to defend the world, he found five teenagers with the skill and heroics to face such odds. They are the Sonic Rangers, and the Red Ranger: Steve Hegge, is the one to receive the flash.
Sonic: What's wrong Steve? It looks like you've seen a ghost.
Erina Ceinae, the Purple Ranger, rolled her eyes at the pun.
Steve: I got this weird flash. Apparently we've been chosen to compete for the fate of our Universe.
Zeal: Whoa! That's some heavy stuff!
Sonic: And take it from me, if you get a magical message you best listen. So what do we need?
Steve: We need a ten man team.
Tammy: That's us five off the bat. And now that we're on good terms with Para, we have the Shadow Ranger on our side now!
Sonic: Its a shame I can't help. The Sonic Megazord might be too big.
Danny: Actually...
Everyone turn their attention to Danny Chordata: the Blue Ranger.
Danny: I've been working on a device to actually shrink down the Sonic Megazord. That way you can use the body to interact with the real world once more.
Erina: No offense, but wouldn't he still look like a robot?
Danny: Its a start. I was also thinking of trying holograms to cover the body.
Zeal: Or you could put on a trench coat. Works in the movies.
Everyone got a good laugh at the joke. But Steve was the first to be serious.
Steve: So that's seven. We still need three.
Sonic: I think I know where we can get the last three. But you guys are not going to like it.
The next day, the Nocturnus Scouts attacked the kids. Thanks to their experience, they can manage to fight them off without morphing. But instead of letting them escape, they managed to capture one of them.
Steve: Zedd-On! We know you use these as your eyes. We need to talk. The fate of our universe demands it!
A hologram pops out of the Scout's eye. Zedd-On was an Echidna in Emerald Armor. The story was this one Echidna merged with the Master Emerald before the Cataclysm. His look reflected that.
Zedd: You make demands from Zedd-On! No one makes demands except me!
Steve: An entity named Genisis is threatening our Universe if we don't form a ten man team and win.
Zedd-On seems mad.
Zedd: This Genisis thinks he can threaten me! You shall get your help! Finitevus and Shade shall accompany me as I show this Genisis what a true Echidna can do! Contact me as soon as we must leave!
Zedd-On shuts off his hologram. It was amazingly easy to get his help. On the third day, Steve was about to go to bed when he spots the Teleporter pop up behind him. Not wanting his parents to discover his secret, he teleports to an open field. Luckily, the portal followed him.
Steve: Attention everyone! It is time!
In a few minutes, everyone teleports to his location. The Sonic Rangers, including Para Echinus, are in their civilian gear for now wanting to keep the element of surprise. Danny's shrinking device works as Sonic is there in the Shrunken Sonic Megazord. And Zedd-On arrived with Finitevus and Shade as promised. Making last preparations, Zeal Atelerix: the Green Ranger walked up to Shade.
Zeal: Heh, its nice to finally be working on the same side.
Shade: I must admit, it is. But this alliance is only temporary.
Zeal: It doesn't have to be. You could just quit.
Shade: Now is not the time for such foolishness. We have a universe to save.
Now ready, the Team of Sonic Rangers and Echidna Villains enter united with the goal of victory.
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God’s Will: Serving Patients – Excerpts of Caring from Called to be a Surgeon, Not for Bread Alone Dr. Neville K. Connolly, MA, MD, FRCS, FACS, FAAP
I was asked, one day, to see a patient with acute abdominal pain. A simple physical examination convinced me that he had acute appendicitis and I recommended immediate surgery. He refused and went home. I was very worried and could not get him out of my mind. That evening, though it was pouring with rain, I drove out to his house to see him again. I found that he was no better, perhaps a little worse. This time he acceded to my demands that he be operated on. I put him in my car and drove him to the hospital where I removed an appendix which was about to rupture. He and his wife were very grateful and I got to know him quite well while he was recovering. I found out that he worked for a radio company and was an expert on such things as amplifiers and radio receivers. By this time, we had moved into our house in Washington and I had set up my ‘Hi-fi’ system. I had this made for me by a friend in England before transistors had replaced vacuum tubes. Also, it used 240-volts rather than the 120-volt current used in American houses. Someone had told me that houses in America had two incoming electric lines and an earth line. If one connected the input of the two incoming power lines, one got 240-volts. I had done this, connecting the input of my machine with one terminal to each of the incoming lines in the main box. It had worked quite satisfactorily for some time but now it had died. I was at a loss to find someone who could repair it. I asked my recovering patient if he would be able to help me out, since he was an expert in that field. Perhaps out of a sense of gratitude, he agreed to come to my house to see what he could do. When he arrived and saw how I had managed to get an input of 240-volts into the machine I thought that he would have a heart attack. After rapidly disconnecting my brilliant solution, he explained that I needed a transformer to adapt my machine to work on 120-volts and that he could get one for me. I had never really understood much about electricity and always felt lucky that I had learned, rather parrot-wise, enough physics to get into medical school. I am still not quite sure why electricity does not run all over the floor when you pull a plug out of a wall socket. I accept the fact that it does not do so as a merciful act of God. Apparently, God was on my side when I did the original wiring as there was no explosion and the house did not burn down. My patient kindly sorted out the whole mess and got my Hi-fi working again. Other than the cost of the transformer he would not charge me. He said that my unexpected zeal in coming to his house that night had saved his life and he felt this small service scarcely repaid me. I wonder if he realized just how significant a service he had rendered to me.
I became involved in a situation which was very revealing and, to me, rather unhappy. One of the senior pediatricians asked me to see a small child with intractable constipation. I examined the child, found that I needed to evacuate the impacted stool from high in the intestine and did so with the aid of an anesthetic. My examination convinced me that the child had Hirschsprung’s disease. This is a condition where the nerves in the lowest part of the intestine have not developed properly. As a result, the contents of the intestine are propelled only so far. They cannot be pushed through the area which has the deficient nerve supply. Though the condition had been known for many years, its true cause was only discovered in the late 1940's by the group at Boston Children’s hospital. At Great Ormond Street in London we had learned about their work and copied them. The cure was to remove the malfunctioning part of the distal bowel and connect the remainder to the anal canal. This is a somewhat tricky operation but pediatric surgeons were performing it with great success. Having seen this particular child, I wrote a note on the chart suggesting the diagnosis and recommending an X-ray which would confirm my opinion. I also called the referring physician. Most apologetically he informed me that he had only seen the child because the child’s own pediatrician was out of town. This pediatrician had returned and did not wish me to see the patient any more. He had his own surgeon. This surgeon did not believe in Hirschsprung’s disease. He had the child transferred to another hospital where he performed several misguided operations without improving the situation. I was very frustrated but did not see what I could do. A couple of years later a baby was admitted to the ‘staff’ service and was seen by Dr. Hawfield. He called me and said that he had a baby that he would like me to see with him. I went to the ward with him. Before he could tell me anything about the problem I noticed the name of the baby. It was the same last name as the child mentioned above. I said; “Are you suspecting Hirschsprung’s?” He said he was but how did I know. I told him the sad story of the other child who turned out to be the older sister of the current patient. It turned out that the older sister was still in trouble. The parents had spent all their money on the medical expenses of the older child and had to send the second child to the hospital for free care. We confirmed the diagnosis on the baby and Harold asked me to operate as he was not familiar with the procedure. I made the necessary plans and arranged for one of the anesthesiologists with whom I had developed a very satisfactory relationship to give the anesthetic. The night before the operation I went to the hospital to check that everything I would need would be ready. There I met the Chief of Anesthesia. He said to me; “Why are you going to kill that baby tomorrow?” I spent a miserable night appreciating how much depended on the next day. Besides the life of the baby, my whole reputation hung in the balance. I went ahead and performed the operation as I had done before under the tutelage of Denis Browne. Actually, the baby was only 3 months old and the standard recommendation was to wait until the baby was at least 6 months of age. The procedure went very smoothly and the baby had a normal bowel movement on the way to the recovery room. She never looked back and was discharged within a week. This is not the end of the story. The parents, who were very grateful to me, were working for an embassy in Washington at that time. They were subsequently transferred to New York. A couple of years later they called me up from New York to tell me that their older daughter was still suffering from her original problem. Since their younger daughter was now completely healthy, they asked if they could bring the older one down for me to cure. I told them that should not be necessary because there were excellent pediatric surgeons in New York. I would contact the one I knew on their behalf. I rang up Dr. Santulli and explained the situation to him. He agreed to take on the child which he did. He found that she was nearly moribund but he revived her and then cured her. I went over the hospital records of this child when I had first seen her. To my amazement and utter disgust, I found that my notes, consultation and recommendations had been removed in total. This made clear to me the difficulty I would have in establishing a purely pediatric surgical practice in Washington at that time. Perhaps I could sow the seed for others to follow. This was my thinking at that time but, with hindsight I realize that I might have done much more if I had pursued the issue of the original ignorant mistreatment of the older daughter or I had brought up the deletions to her chart when I discovered them. I was too acutely conscious of my foreign back ground and surgical training to face the repercussions that almost certainly would have ensued. Maybe if I had done so at that time the upgrading of the surgical care of children in Washington would not have had to await the arrival of Judson Randolph as the full time surgical chief.
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Nkani: All That Glitters 27 http://bit.ly/2J5DWAI
10th February 2016
“Deep breath. You can do this.”
I shake my head and place my phone back on the kitchen table.
“I can’t do this.”
What if he does not want to talk to me? What if he hangs up on my call? What do I do then? It is not supposed to be this hard. I pick up my phone off the table and stare at the dark screen. It’s now or never. This is it.
“You can do this” I whisper.
“You are strong. Why the hell are you acting shy now? Be a lady and dial that number.” I continue.
“You have been through worse. This is just a necessary bump. Take. The. Step. Now.”
I quickly dial his number.
No regrets now.
No turning back now.
It has to be done today.
This has been on my mind for so long and I owe him an explanation for why I did what I did. He deserves that much and if he wants to hang up on me then so be it. The dialling tone makes me nervous, I can feel the hair on the back of my neck stand. Each tone makes me feel worse; sweaty. Maybe I should not have…
“Hello.”
The sound of his voice makes me smile. Thank God he picked up. I would have died with shame if he had not.
“Hello?”
His voice is as I remembered it. Gosh, I have missed him. I need to say something to him. Anything.
“Mable are you there?”
“Yes.”
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Silence.
He’s not cut the call; I can hear him breathing. Is he angry or is he shocked by my call? Will he hang up on me? Or will he wait till I say something weird and embarrass myself. Why is he too silent? Shouldn’t he be the one asking all sorts of questions about where I have been all this time? Or maybe he doesn’t care any more and all of this was for nothing.
“How are you?” I ask quickly.
If he won’t ask then I might as well ask him questions to keep the conversation going.
“I am well. How are you? How’s your family?”
Straight to the point. Okay. This is going down the drain.
“I am well. As well as expected I guess. Family is well thank you for asking.”
“That’s great Mable. You have to forgive me, I did not expect your call. It’s been a while.”
“It definitely has been a while.” I agree. “Too much of a while I guess.”
Silence.
Gosh this is awkward. Why am I still on this call? I should say bye and hang up. Forget I ever called the man to begin with. That doesn’t mean I won’t forget his number. What do I say to him now? If he doesn’t say anything in the next sixty seconds I will hang up and block his number forever. Never call him again and move on.
Fifty-nine.
Fifty-Eight.
Fifty-seven
Still no word from him. He definitely doesn’t want to talk to me. I should have kept to myself instead of calling him.
Forty-Seven
Forty-Six
Forty-five
I am so ashamed. I look like a desperate woman now. A married desperate woman. Maybe I am desperate. For someone to talk to. Besides, maybe I missed the man himself. His voice. His laughter. His hands. The connection. The attention. I missed him and maybe his lips that are so different from my husband’s lips.
Thirty-four
Thirty-three
Thirty-two
And even if I tell Isaac the truth. Will he want to hear it all? Will he understand that I am a married woman with problems at home. What if he says he wants nothing to do with my drama. At this point I don’t want to sleep with him. I just need his company the most.
Twenty-one
Twenty
Nineteen
Eighteen
I am a bad wife. I shouldn’t have called him. I should be working on my marriage. And I promise I will. I will. This is it.
Seven.
Six
Five
Four
Goodbye Issac.
“I can’t believe I’m going to ask you this.” He says slowly.
I let out the breath I’ve been holding onto.
Thank God.
“What?” I ask hurriedly.
“Do you want to meet me for lunch?”
*******
“The gel will be cold as I spread it out.”
I look at the doctor and give her a weak smile. She smiles back at me, exposing her even white teeth. For a woman with grey hair she definitely has taken care of herself. Her brown eyes look at me with kindness that calms me down even though I do not want to be here.
“Warning us in advance Doctor?” James laughs.
“We have to. We don’t want the mother-to-be cringing and wondering why it’s cold.” The doctor responds. “Are you ready?” She asks me softly.
“Better now than later.” I respond
I slowly lift my shirt exposing my abdomen, bundling the shirt up to my breasts with James’s help. I can just about trace the mound on my lower abdomen. I will finally meet the little human I’ve been carrying. The doctor turns in her seat reaching out for a tube on the table like machine with a blank screen on it. She turns back to me, tube in hand.
“Is it really as cold as you say?” I ask
“Don’t worry. It being cold is normal.” She whispers jokingly. “Is this your first ultrasound Mrs Sipalo?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my. That is not good at all. You’re almost twenty weeks and this is your first scan?”
“Yes. Were we supposed to have another scan?” James asks worried.
I roll my eyes. Now she has James worried about unnecessary scans.
“Oh yes.” The Doctor laughs. “Earlier actually. At eight weeks. Did they not tell you?”
“No. They should have. Besides we found out we were expecting quite late to be honest.” James responds.
“No matter. This is alright.” The doctor responds.
“Are you sure?” James asks.
“It is.” The doctor smiles. “Well lets see how the baby has been so far.”
She holds the tube over my abdomen and squeezes. A clear gel like substance exits the tube and she slowly places it on my abdomen. The coldness of the gel does not take my mind off the task at hand.
To see James’s baby.
The doctor then lifts a little hammer shaped device from the mini machine table and places it – hammer end- on my abdomen covered with gel. She presses in deeper as she uses her other hand to press a few buttons on the mini machine table. The blank screen lights up with grey, white and black colours. She moves the device lower and back up to my navel all the while looking at the screen. She presses a bit deeper making me wince. I need to use the bathroom. Soon. Was it necessary that I do not urinate before the scan? James holds my hand, squeezing gently.
The doctor looks back at me apologetically and offers me a smile.
“I’m sorry. I have to make sure the machine is capturing everything right.”
“Okay.” I respond
She looks back at the screen clicks on a few more buttons and moves the device lower again. I turn and look at James who is looking at the screen with avid interest. I know he’s excited about everything happening right now; and as well he should be. He’s going to be a daddy soon enough. He will have someone to dote on and play games with.
His own flesh and blood.
My own too.
I should be as excited as he is. I should be. I’m already a disappointment as a mother before I even have my child. Mum will be so angry if she finds out I don’t have the zeal to be a mother now.
“Okay here we go.” The doctor says excitedly.
“What are we supposed to be looking at doctor?” An excited James asks
“That.” The doctor responds, her finger pointing at the screen. “That mass there. Do you see it? Let me just move this lower and… There.”
If I look now then it’s real. Then it’s never gonna be right. It will be confirmed as a nightmare. I’m stuck with this forever. A mother. I don’t need to see the baby. Not now.
“You see the shape Mr Sipalo? Can you make it out?”
“Yes! Yes! That’s our baby?” He asks happily.
“Yes. That’s the baby. Growing pretty well if I may say.”
“Babe. You need to look at the screen.” James says to me. “You’re missing out.”
I smile and shake my head.
I will imagine it all through James. I will watch James and his reactions will tell me all I need to know about the baby.
“Oh don’t worry. I’m recording all this for you. It’s always overwhelming especially since it’s your first ultrasound.” The doctor says.
“Is that the head?” James asks.
“Yes. Head. Chest. Back. Good frame.” The doctor responds.
“Are those fingers?” James asks.
“Yes. Your baby is growing quite well. Fingers.” She presses into my abdomen and moves her device around slowly. “And toes.”
“Wow.” James whispers.
Seeing his face almost makes all this worthwhile. Like I am gifting him with the best present I could ever give him.
“Do you want to hear the heartbeat?”
“We can?” James asks.
“Of course. This is why the first ultrasound is important. You get to know a lot of things about your baby.”
“Now we know. We shall be prepared when we have our next one.” James laughs.
I roll my eyes. Next one? This man thinks I will get pregnant again? Men are so selfish.
“Okay. Let’s find that heart beat.” The doctor laughs.
James squeezes my hand, looks at me, his eyes full of love.
“We are fine babe. Our baby is fine. We are fine.” He whispers. “We are going to be parents.”
The doctor was right. It is overwhelming. Looking at James’s face confirms it all. James leans in and kisses my cheek. He looks at me and smiles.
“I love you Thandiwe.” He whispers. “I love you.”
Why am I not happy?
The sound of a low beat like on a small drum sounds through the quiet room. A steady beat that never stops, fills the emptiness of each spot not only in the room but within me. I know what the sound is. I know where it is from. It is the most beautiful and ugliest sound I’ll ever hear. It’s the beginning of something new. Change is coming.
A life.
In me.
For my family.
James eyes are transfixed and I follow his gaze, turning my head slowly until my eyes meet the grey screen, on it is dark mass beating, fast and steady. Like a song to my ears the sound is enough to make my eyes well up with tears, it has me trapped; I blink the tears away, letting them fall; so this is what mama meant about being a mother- falling in love with your child before he or she is born.
I stare at the screen in wonder, taking the image on the screen, seeing parts of my baby while the heartbeat sings a song to me. I turn and look at James, his hand still holds mine tightly. He can’t say a word. He can’t stop looking at the screen in wonder.
That’s our baby. Our baby.
This is it. Our future.
I turn and find the doctor looking at me with, a smile plastered on her face.
“Do you want to know the sex of the baby?” She asks
Do I?
Do I need to know?
That heartbeat I’m hearing is someone.
A girl or a boy.
Why have I been so aloof about this pregnancy? My own baby.
I look at James and he looks at me. I know what he wants. And for the first time I want it too.
I look at the doctor and nod.
*********
“You have been avoiding me.”
This man is as clingy as a baby. Maybe what they say about older men is true. Clingy as hell. He should be grateful I let him through the door instead. He should be happy I made up a sob story about my need for mother’s day to Masulani early in the morning; and a kind Masulani was willing to let me off because I had been working over time in the past two days. Mr Forty should be ecstatic that I sort did it for him even if the sob story was true.
“You had to get sick for me to see you alone. You have been so busy at the office Yolanda.” Mr Forty says.
Periods are the devil when they know you have been sleeping around. Then again I need to celebrate they are here. God is grateful.
“I have missed you so much Yolanda.”
The man gives me a quick sloppy kiss on my cheek and I offer him a smile. It will make him happy. Its always the simple things with Mr Forty. That’s why this whatever-ship we have is easy to deal with. A smile here, a good meal there, kinky bedroom moves that his wife seems to be denying him and I have a man willing to offer me not only the milky way but other galaxies for good measure. That’s what he got when he got a hard to please woman.
“I missed you too boo boo.” I respond.
“How much?”
Why do men always insist on asking how much they have been missed? Can one measure missing a person. It’s as if they want to catch us on our own lies.
“From here to Jupiter and back.” I lie.
Where is Jupiter again? Who cares.
With my head on his laps, he looks down at me. For a moment I see what attracted me to the man in the first place. The dark skin that reminds me of dark chocolate; from this position I can see strands of his greying beard. Nevertheless it makes him look even better. For a moment I worry about the wrinkles I will cause on his suit if I sleep in this position for a while, but he seems not to care about it or the fact that he might need to head back to the office soon. Who knows with this man, maybe he won’t be going back. After all, the man made his way over to my flat at lunch time and has not shown any indication in leaving soon.
“I love this scent on you.” He whispers
“Well you do know why I love it.” I respond. “You got me the perfume remember.”
“Ahhh. The memories. Too much has happened between us.”
“Indeed.”
He kisses my hand and I sigh.
“I was thinking about something.” He says.
“Hmm.” I hum. “What’s on your mind?”
“I was thinking it is time I left my wife.” He says slowly.
Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. That easily. I sit up quickly almost bumping my head into his chin and get onto my knees.
“I am sorry. What did you say?” I ask.
He exhales and looks at me.
“Ever since we got back you are all I think about.” He says. “It’s like being given a second chance at happiness and I am happy with you.”
“What? I’m sorry but is wrong with what we have now? Isn’t the sex enough?”
“Yolanda…”
“What is actually wrong? The sex? Sleep overs? A trip maybe? You have a wife for crying out loud. Think about her.”
“But you know my wife and I have been having issues. Even before you left me you knew this.”
“And you stayed wei.”
“Because you were gone. I figured I could fix my marriage. I’m being honest with you I have failed. And it’s not because I love you more than her but she is uncontrollable.”
“Well control her. Make it work. That’s a marriage. Ups and downs.”
He looks at me and his hand reaches for my hand.
“You really want me to stay with her?” He asks. “You really want me to? You don’t want us to go official? Be a couple finally. To be open?”
Is that what I want? I just got over that punk of a man Mutale and his level-A cheating. Do I want to be in another relationship? With my boss? What will people think? My Job? Won’t I have to resign?
Though it means I will be taken care of.
The man is rich right? I can live a life of luxury. Maybe. But then I will deemed the home wrecker? When have I ever cared about titles? I would have had the man. Besides he loves me. I have known him for a while. Did I not love him once?
“Solomon.” I whisper.
Saying his first name makes me feel like he is my friend. He is a man I sleep with. My boss.
“Look. You two are having problems and maybe it is my fault.” I tell him calmly.
“No it’s not. You are perfect. You are amazing. Even then when we started this mess you were understanding and patient. Women like you need to be praised.”
“But women like me ruin marriages. Solomon, I would be selfish if I didn’t think about your wife’s feelings and I would be called evil. I am sure she still loves you.”
“But I want you.” He says aloud.
“It’s just sex Solomon!”
“Well it’s not sex to me. It’s more than that now. I want you in my life permanently!”
Older men are clingy. What the hell? What happened to let’s not change our status? I don’t like this.
“Next week you will be feeling better with your wife’s issues under the rug. Calm down.”
“I’m thinking of serving her the papers this month.”
Oh no. Oh no no no no no. This is not happening right now. No. He can’t leave his wife to be with me. No way that will happen. No.
“You can’t just leave her.”
“Why?” He asks.
“Well who says I will date you when you leave her. Don’t complicate this right now. Let me think about it.”
He lets go of my hand and stands up from the sofa.
“I am opening myself to you and you want to think about it? I thought you would be happy with this news.” He says angrily. “Maybe you are too young to see that I love you and maybe you still want to play but I want more from this. Take your time to think about it all and decide.”
Where is all this coming from I wonder? Why is he angry with me? He looks down at me, shakes his head and walks to the door.
“Get well soon.” He says as he walks out.
I stare at the door for a few seconds before I laugh.
Men are so childish sometimes.
*********
Do I look okay?
Am I overdressed for lunch?
Should I have used makeup?
Why am I stressing out about seeing a friend for lunch? Nothing wrong with that. Right? Then why do I keep looking out for familiar faces in the restaurant? Why am I nervous about meeting Isaac? It’s not like I’m going to jump onto the man the minute I see him. Not even a kiss will go his direction when he does show up. So why am I scared of being found out? What would Chinyama do if he found me with Isaac having lunch? Would he know I kissed the man? Or would he think I’m having a business meeting?
I am a house-wife with no money. What business meeting would I be having with a single attractive man.
Chinyama would have a fit with this – his stay at home wife and mother having a business meeting that’s not with the girls would be hard to believe. Even for the ladies themselves.
Where is he? The longer I stay here the harder it becomes for me to calm down. What if he doesn’t show up? What if he’s been in an accident and he’s dying because of me? Gosh this is so wrong on so many levels. I should not have called him. I can still walk away from this and salvage whatever it is I have in my marriage. Yes. I should stand up and leave. Just stand up and walk away and this time forever. I’ve made up my mind. I should be a good woman no matter what.
I grab my clutch off the table, push my chair back and stand up.
“Mable?”
I turn to the sound of my name. There he stands, Isaac. In the flesh and he looks amazing in his dark blue suit. Did he dress for me? Because it looks like he put too much into looking handsome – the fresh shave, the clean whitest shirt I have ever seen on a man – besides Chinyama. Isaac sure does know how to get my heart racing. And to think I was geared to walk away from meeting him. Even if it’s for coffee it will be worth while. So long as no one I know sees me and him.
“You leaving?” He asks. “I’m sorry I’m late. A client got carried away.”
“Oh.”
That’s all I can say. What else can I add? I’m speechless. Speechless and in awe? That’s it. Yes. The man smells amazing too. This is what I missed, was missing, still missing. He leans in closer and I feel his lips on my cheek, a light brush that leaves me chills.
“You look beautiful.” He whispers
He leans back with a smile on his dark face. Clearly he is amused with what he sees.
“You still want to leave? Or stand here the whole time?” He asks
I shake my head and slowly sit back down on the chair I was on minutes ago. He takes the chair across from me, his eyes on me the whole time. I can’t help but stare at him. Where was this man when I was in my teenage years crushing on Chinyama? What if I had never gotten married to Chinyama in the first place? Would I be with Isaac or a man like him? Would my life be any different.
“Mable?”
“Huh?”
I blink and catch his eyes on me, concerned. A waiter stands besides his chair her eyes on me too.
“What would you like to have? Water? Fresh juice?”
“Wine. Please.” I croak.
“A glass of white wine, Sauvignon Blanc for her and a glass of cold water for me.” He tells the waiter.
The waiter nods and walks away leaving us to our awkward silence.
“I swear I didn’t expect your call.” He says.
I shrug. “I didn’t expect you to want to see me for lunch.” I respond.
“Well it’s been some time since I last saw you. And to be honest I was curious.” He starts. “I really wanted to see you.”
I smile, it means a lot that he wanted to see me even after how I ended things or sort of ended things.
“How’s everything?” He asks
“Everything is good I suppose. As to be expected.”
“That’s great. Nothing new going on?”
“Nope. Same old me. Same old story.”
The waiter shows up with our orders and walks away as soon as she is done. Back to awkward silence. I make no move to reach for the glass of wine, it’s like I’m numb waiting for something to happen first.
“I’m sorry for how I disappeared.” I blurt out quickly.
He does not say a word. His eyes do not show any sign of anger or emotion to my statement. I take a deep breath as I watch him. I need to get this out of the way if I am move past this.
“I was going through stuff. Home. Family. My marriage.” I take a deep breath. “And then you came along and boom I was happy and excited again.”
“It’s okay.”
“No. It was amazing being with you. But at the end of day I have a husband and children to take care of. I was selfish.”
Silence.
“I forgot I had a husband and children. I forgot my children needed me and when it came to them and you, I had to make a choice. I’m so sorry I did what I did to you. You didn’t deserve that from me.”
Silence.
“My husband wanted to try and make things work again and I figured why not. And then having to deal with your feelings was scary enough. I didn’t know what to do but leave. Disappear.”
I reach for the wine glass and take a gulp of the wine. I do not care about the taste of the wine right now to complain. His silence is making it all harder for me.
“I would like to say I understand.” He says. “But I don’t. Obviously I put too much on you and I apologise.”
“It’s not your fault.” I respond
“Ahh yes it’s yours for being beautiful and smart.” He laughs.
I smile. I am grateful he sees the humour in the situation. He won’t make it hard for me.
“You’ve never opened up to me about your family life Mable. And I understand. That is your life and this between us was a phase. I am not angry with you about what’s happened to be honest.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean I know I told you I loved you and I wanted you to feel the same. I pushed too much on you and your reaction is understandable.”
“It was sweet.”
“And sweet got me a woman scared to see me again.” He says. “I’m never being honest again. I swear I’m done and scarred for life.”
“You’re impossible.” I laugh. “I swear.”
We laugh, like the times I would be with him in his arms. I definitely missed this. He reaches across the table and grabs my hand, I do not pull back from him. I let my hand stay in his.
“All in all I really missed you Mable.” He says. “I really did.”
“I missed you too.” I respond…
To be continued…
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Chapter 5
Do Hoarders Dream of Eclectic Heaps?
-reactions to the news from the previous chapter are fairly immediate-
Liz: Well. That’s bad news.
Iggy: You don’t think that’s a bit of an understatement?
Liz: Not really.
-pan to Laura-
Laura: A Dragon? No. No way. You can’t be serious. Please say you’re not serious.
Liz: Laura, have you ever heard Zaresi make a joke?
Laura: …No?
Liz: The last time she tried was 30 years ago. It wasn’t very funny.
-to Evan, who is toying with his knife-
Evan: Maybe if I…
-to Morgan-
Morgan: …We have dragons? That’s awesome.
-everyone turns around-
Liz: …I’ll talk to her.
-she drags Morgan aside-
Morgan: I can’t believe we have dragons! Why hasn’t anyone ever told me about them?
Liz: …Do you, in fact, know anything about Dragons?
Morgan: They’re giant flying lizards that burn everything to the ground with their fiery breath!
Liz: Nothing, then?
-beat-
Morgan: Guess not.
Liz: A Dragon, so named because what else would you call it, is a Spirit of Fire, Darkness, and Wealth.
Morgan: Wait. You can do that?
Liz: Like everything to do with magic, Spirits aren’t exactly cut-and-dry. From time to time, a random accident with magic will merge two or more Spirits into a single unified entity, and eventually the two personalities will bleed into each other enough that it gains self-awareness.
Iggy: Alternatively—
-Liz glares at Iggy, who shuts up-
Liz: There are other ways for a Spirit to have access to more than one Domain, yes. But they’re banned under the Convocation, and we won’t go into them here. Iggy.
Iggy: (weakly) Sorry.
Morgan: Wait, what’s so bad about a Spirit having more than one Domain?
Liz: Magic of multiple Domains has multiplicative effects. A Spirit of two Domains is significantly greater than the sum of its parts. A Spirit of three? Even without outside interference, it’s probably on par with a good-size god.
Morgan: Which brings me back to the giant flying lizards that burn everything to the ground with their fiery breath.
Liz: Do you see any of those things happening right now?
Morgan: Dragons are smart, right? It’s probably biding its time.
Liz: Dragons are smart, yes. They’re smart enough not to do any of the things you just described.
Morgan: That’s kind of disappointing.
Liz: A Dragon’s usual MO, as demonstrated here, is using Wealth magic to steal things without detection. They’ll ramp up the thefts over time, using their abilities with Wealth and Darkness to eat the energies from the stolen objects as fuel for their spells.
Morgan: What? How?
Liz: What stores magic?
Morgan: Things people care about, right?
-she stops-
Morgan: Oh.
Liz: Sure, in the grand scheme of things, your keys aren’t so important to you, but what about every single person’s keys in the town? Or favorite book? Wealth magic is good for taking things, and Darkness, like Death or Love, is good at influencing other magic. Normally, the magic hidden in an object just sort of lies around uselessly, but between Wealth and Darkness, it can be drained out and absorbed.
Morgan: So…yikes?
Liz: Dragons raise this particular trick to an art form. They can steal and take in almost anything. Dormant magic, unfriendly spells…they could eat a Spirit and keep it alive inside themselves as a servant if they felt like. They are the perfect self-perpetuating consumers and thieves. They make sharks, Lupin, and Wall Street bankers look like infants, and they only get stronger as they amass their hordes.
Morgan: I’m definitely hearing a yikes.
Liz: That’s why we have to stop this one now, before it drains the town dry. Now, let’s get back to the others.
-they return-
Zaresi: Liz. Morgan. Good of you to rejoin us. Liz has tracked the Dragon to the library, so get ready.
Morgan: Wait, now?
Laura: Why not?
Morgan: (somewhat lamely) It’s Friday evening?
Evan: What, you think the bad guys only attack at discreet times?
Morgan: It’s just—
-her phone rings-
Zaresi: Please silence all devices before—
-Morgan answers it. Zaresi sighs-
Holly: Morgan, where are you? I just got home, and I couldn’t find my keys, so I ended up having to pick the lock. It’s almost Shabbat.
Morgan: …Is it?
Holly: Yes?
Morgan: I must have lost track of time. I’ll be home in…uh…
-she flails a hand-
Laura: Give it an hour. Either we’ll drive it off or we’ll be dead by then.
Morgan: An hour?
Holly: What are you doing that’s so important?
Morgan: …Studying with Laura?
Holly: While I’m not generally one to suggest someone stop studying, that can’t wait until tomorrow?
Morgan: We’re right in the middle of, uh…Riemann sums. I’m really close to getting it; I just need a bit more time.
Holly: I’ll explain them to you. They aren’t that complicated.
Morgan: I’m in the zone, Holly. Just say I won’t be home for a bit.
Holly: If you insist.
-she hangs up-
-Morgan stares at the phone apprehensively-
Evan: Are you done lying to your family? We’ve got a Dragon to kill.
Morgan: Do we have to pants you again? It seems to make you nicer.
-Evan narrows his eyes. Laura intercedes-
Laura: Come on, everyone’s moving.
-cut to Zaresi and Liz leading a parade of Spirits, with Morgan, Laura, and Evan bringing up the rear-
Morgan: Wait, so we’re just going to walk up and kill it?
Laura: Well, we’re probably going to tell it to leave first, but if it doesn’t, then yeah, we fight it until it does.
Morgan: And you’re not scared? I mean, Liz said Dragons were powerful.
Laura: They are. But you know what?
-she grins, placing a hand on Morgan’s shoulder-
Laura: We are too. It’s going to be fine.
Morgan: But—
Laura: You killed a Reaper before ever learning about formal magic, and you fought Janice to a standstill in your first real battle. Just because you’re used to not doing anything more than party tricks, doesn’t mean you can’t.
Morgan: I—
Laura: This is pre-battle jitters. It’s just some neurotransmitters acting up, and you’re better than that. Besides, everyone has them.
Morgan: You don’t.
Laura: Sure I do. You think I’m not scared?
Morgan: Is this the part where you talk about being strong for your friends?
Laura: Don’t be silly. I just know that I have backup.
-she pulls Morgan a little closer-
Laura: And so do you.
Morgan: …Thanks.
-Evan falls into step-
Evan: Besides, I’ve been thinking about that ritual. And it should work this time.
Morgan: Yeah, that’s slightly less reassuring.
Evan: I am saddened and hurt.
Laura: Just don’t screw up.
Morgan: You know, again. Or leave the two of us to be killed by a monster.
Laura: You know. Again.
Evan: This is character assassination and I will not stand for it.
-he walks off while Morgan and Laura hi-five-
-cut to near the library, where Zaresi’s forces have gathered-
Morgan: So, I hate to be the one to say this, but I am noticing a distinct lack of giant fire-breathing lizards. Where’s the Dragon?
Laura: Right there.
-she gestures at a man wearing very nice clothing, who is sitting on a bench and staring up at the sky. Despite the presence of Zaresi’s forces, he looks entirely unbothered-
Morgan: What? That’s not a dragon. What’s he cosplaying, anyway?
Laura: Look closer.
-she does. It becomes clear that there are sparks drifting from the man-
Morgan: …What?
Laura: Spirits don’t really have a defined form, so they can shift their appearance for convenience.
Morgan: What’s so convenient about that?
Laura: …Being a giant monstrous lizard is not exactly inconspicuous?
-Morgan frowns-
Morgan: You know what, no.
Laura: No what?
Morgan: This is bull.
-and she marches forward-
Laura: Wait, don’t—
-past Liz and Zaresi, who both turn in astonishment-
Morgan: Hey! If you’re going to call yourself a dragon, you need to at least look the part!
-the man turns to look at her-
Laura: …Mierda.
Man: Is that so?
-he blinks-
-and a wall of fire explodes into life between him and Morgan-
Dragon: How’s that?
-Morgan backpedals, staring at the flames-
Morgan: …A start.
Zaresi: Alright, please put that out before you alert anybody.
Dragon: Who’s going to make me?
Zaresi: Ideally, you will do it of your own accord. If not…
-she leaves the threat hanging-
Dragon: That’s cute.
-he lazily examines Team Zaresi-
Dragon: Not really seeing anything that’s going to stop me, though.
-he starts pointing out the members of the team-
Dragon: Let me see here. Small-time goddess, smaller-time Magicians, and a few ragtag Spirits. Tell me what I’m supposed to be afraid of?
Morgan: How about this?
-she generates a scythe, spinning it in a circle. Laura looks alarmed-
Dragon: Put that away, little Magician.
Morgan: Not seeing a good reason to do that.
-the Dragon turns his head towards Morgan, fire building up around his eyes-
Liz: Alright, let’s bring it off.
Zaresi: Morgan, I admire your zeal, but please step aside while Liz and I conduct negotiations.
Morgan: …This is still a sucky dragon.
-she still steps back, and Zaresi replaces her-
Zaresi: Dragon.
-the Dragon breathes out a puff of air, and the fire dissipates-
Dragon: Please. Call me Eneril.
Zaresi: Objects have gone missing. Not to put too fine a point on it, but it is clearly your doing.
Eneril: And?
Zaresi: This town is not yours to plunder. You will surrender what you have taken and move to somewhere where you are welcome.
Eneril: Which brings us back to the issue of how exactly you’re planning to make me.
-he gets to his feet, and cracks his neck, small flames springing up-
Eneril: You can’t stop me. The other gods of this town can’t stop me. I go where I want, I take what I please, and I destroy who gets in my way.
-he waves a hand, and streams of gold light twirl away into the distance. Suddenly, socks begin to rain down around him, light streaming from them back into him-
Eneril: Wasn’t that entertaining?
Morgan: …Is that where my left socks always go?
Laura: No. Washing machines are just weird.
Zaresi: Magicians, advance please.
-Laura and Morgan both step forwards. Evan, meanwhile, skips up, straight towards Eneril-
Evan: Hey, Dragon. Who’s got two thumbs and is about to do something with magic that makes your head explode?
Eneril: Pardon?
Evan: This guy! Take two, here we go!
-he stabs Eneril in the chest-
Evan: Necrosyrtes!
-there’s a massive explosion of black light-
-and then nothing-
Evan: …Um.
Eneril: Should I be expecting something?
Evan: …Give me a moment, maybe? This is kind of new.
Eneril: Pity.
-he slams a hand into Evan’s chest, a sphere of flame blossoming between them and sending Evan flying. The Dragon steps forward, flames swirling up around him-
Liz: So much for the diplomatic option.
Zaresi: Attack.
Liz: Are you sure that’s the best option here?
Zaresi: Evan has not left us with much choice.
Liz: I suppose you have a point.
-Laura steps up next to Morgan, who has reformed her scythe-
Morgan: Do we have to help out Evan?
Laura: Focus on the big picture here.
-the two attack. Morgan’s scythe extends, the handle turning into a wire as she slashes at Eneril. Laura generates spheres, sending them flying in helices towards the Dragon-
Eneril: Points for effort, I guess.
-he waves a hand, and a wall of flame blocks off the incoming attack. He waves the other hand, and a whip of purple energy knocks Morgan and Laura away-
Eneril: This is bordering on the absurd. After your next attack fails, I think I’ll just eat you.
Liz: Hold up! Hold up!
Zaresi: Liz, what are you doing?
Liz: Ideally, trying to make sure nobody ends up dead today.
Eneril: Hmm, bit late on that one. I’ve already made up my mind to annihilate you all and drink the life that flows out of your broken corpses. So…you know. I think our goals here conflict a little.
-the flames twirl up around him-
Liz: Wait!
Eneril: Why?
Liz: Because if you do that, who are you going to bet against?
-Eneril pauses-
-for a long time-
Zaresi: …Liz?
Liz: I’m working here.
Eneril: …Bet?
Liz: Fun of the hunt, right? I mean, come on. It has to get boring just using some ritual to take what you want, doesn’t it? Where’s the thrill of the chase? Seeing defeat in your enemies’ eyes as you crush them mercilessly under your heel?
Eneril: I could do that now if I really put my mind to it.
Liz: Sure, you could. But you’re clearly so powerful; we’d all be wiped out before you could really get into it. You need something that’ll pose a challenge! Then you can really feel alive! Feel the blood pump through your veins!
Eneril: Blood doesn’t pump through my veins.
Liz: Mine neither. It’s a figure of…look, do you see my point or not? You can’t tell me you don’t want a proper challenge!
Eneril: You want me…to bet against you…for the exact same thing I intend to, and certainly can, take anyway?
Liz: Yeah, exactly.
Eneril: ...Look, am I the only one hearing this?
-he looks between everyone else-
-they are all completely silent-
Eneril: …You know, I’m almost tempted to say yes, just to prolong the death of someone with that sort of audacity.
-Liz just watches-
Eneril: …You’re playing me.
Liz: Well, yeah, obviously. I wouldn’t do something if I didn’t think I could win it. Isn’t that the point? And isn’t the point of being a great predator to outplay the other hunters?
-Eneril glares at Liz for a solid 30 seconds, and then bursts out laughing-
Eneril: You know what? You’ve piqued my interest, and after that speech, it would be a shame to kill you know. What do you propose?
-Liz breathes out a long sigh of relief-
Liz: Chess.
-Eneril blinks-
Eneril: Chess?
Liz: Chess! You know, game of kings?
Morgan: Isn’t it game of thrones?
Laura: You’re thinking of something else.
Eneril: Very well. Next evening, we will play chess.
Liz: Excellent.
Eneril: I’m not finished.
Liz: …Yes?
Eneril: Your pieces will be those of you willing to actually fight me. Mine, meanwhile, will be Spirits I’ve sealed into the trinkets I’ve picked up in my travels.
-Liz makes a face-
Liz: If we win, you return what you’ve stolen and leave town.
Eneril: Once I win, I won’t just kill you. I’ll absorb you into myself, and you and the rest of your town can entertain me on my travels.
Morgan: (aside) Wait, what?
Liz: …Sounds good.
Eneril: Ta.
-there’s a burst of fire, and he’s gone-
-everyone stares in shocked silence-
Morgan: That happened.
Liz: So!
-she rubs her palms together-
Liz: Who knows how to play chess?
Morgan: Wait, what?
Laura: Liz, you can’t play chess?
Liz: I feel like I used to remember. Funny how things slide after 100 years or so.
Laura: Then why would you suggest it?!
Liz: It was the first thing that came to mind! Dragons are well-known for a tendency to take wagers, so excuse me if I didn’t want you to be eaten!
Zaresi: Liz’s improvisational skills aside, we have a meeting with the Dragon next evening. So, who among us can play chess?
Evan: You can’t, madam?
Zaresi: I’ve always preferred to occupy myself with legitimate conquest.
Liz: She likes Risk.
Zaresi: How about you, Magicians?
Morgan: I’m more of a checkers girl.
Laura: Never been a fan of the whole black and white dichotomy.
Morgan: Hey!
Laura: Figuratively, I mean. No offense.
Evan: Video games all day every day.
Zaresi: Reapers?
-the Reapers make low hissing noises-
Iggy: I’ve played a little shogi.
Liz: Did we ask?
Iggy: Oh, okay then.
-it drifts away-
-Zaresi thinks about this for a moment, and nods resignedly-
Zaresi: So. It appears that we have signed ourselves up for an exceptionally high-stakes game which none of us have any knowledge of how to play.
Laura: I think Janice might know?
Evan: They’re out of town right now. They do that a lot.
Morgan: …Well, they make chess rulebooks, right?
Zaresi: …I suppose we have a day to learn. I expect you back here tomorrow at your earliest convenience.
Morgan: …So much for Shabbat shalom.
-everyone begins to drift apart. Laura nudges Morgan-
Laura: Just keep what I said in mind. It’ll be okay.
Morgan: …Right.
-everyone goes home-
Holly: There you are. We were just about to light candles without you.
Morgan: You wouldn’t.
Holly: What happened to you? You look like you went three rounds with a tree.
Morgan: Well… you should see the tree.
Holly: …Morgan, did you fight a tree?
Morgan: (quickly) I did not fight a tree.
Holly: (equally quickly) Did you fight someone in a tree?
Morgan: (even more quickly) I did not fight someone in a tree.
-Holly gives Morgan a sideways glance-
Holly: Well, wash up before you come to dinner.
Morgan: Whatever you say, mom.
-cut to Morgan, having restored herself to order, eating dinner. The scene in general is fairly serene. Morgan, less so, as images of Eneril occupy her head. There’s a slight flicker of Death magic, but it disappears quickly-
Holly: Es, Morgan.
Morgan: Oh. Right.
-she does-
Holly: (quietly) Is something wrong?
Morgan: No?
Holly: Yes there is.
Morgan: I’m glad you told me. I hadn’t noticed.
Holly: Well, I don’t have any plans Saturday, so we can spend it together and you can talk about it.
Morgan: …Oh.
Holly: Is that a problem?
Morgan: I said I’d hang out with Quinn.
Holly: Oh, that’s fine. I like Quinn.
Morgan: Right…
-the next day, the two are picking up Quinn-
Quinn: Holly!
-she hugs Holly-
Holly: Good morning to you too, Quinn.
Quinn: I feel so honored. What brings the other Stein twin out of her lair?
Holly: It’s been a while since I really spent any time with my sister, after the accident.
-Morgan becomes noticeably more pensive-
Holly: So for today, we’re a double act.
Quinn: Sounds good to me. Want to come over and watch a movie?
Morgan: Actually, I was hoping we could go over to the graveyard, take a walk in the forest?
-there is a long, awkward, silence-
Quinn: You know we’ve failed as a support system in her life, right?
Holly: I sometimes have concerns.
-cut to the graveyard, where Team Zaresi has gathered. Morgan crosses her fingers and approaches-
Morgan: Hey, Laura! Evan!
-the two turn around to wave, when they see Holly and Quinn. Laura’s jaw drops. Evan grins, and Morgan runs ahead a bit-
Laura: You…brought Holly and Quinn.
Morgan: They won’t see Zaresi or the Reapers, right?
Laura: That’s true, but—
Morgan: Holly wanted to spend the day with me, and I promised Quinn I’d hang out with her.
Laura: …Okay.
-meanwhile, Evan has wandered over to the two-
Evan: Morning, Morgan’s friend, other Morgan!
Holly: Other Morgan? Really?
Evan: I’m not really a names guy. Nice hair.
-Holly casually takes a step back. Quinn, meanwhile, brushes past Evan to go talk to Laura and Morgan-
Quinn: Morgan, why do so many of your friends hang out in graveyards?
Morgan: I wouldn’t call Evan a friend so much as a friend of a friend?
-she glances at Laura-
Laura: Yeah, I wouldn’t call him that either.
Quinn: Why do you even hang out with him?
Laura: Necessity, mostly. He’s a…uh, family friend.
Quinn: Shame.
Liz: Okay, what’s going on here?
-she walks over-
Morgan: Oh, uh…
Liz: You brought non-Magicians? Really? Don’t worry, I’ll do all the talking.
-she waves a hand in front of Quinn’s face. Quinn doesn’t notice-
Liz: Never gets old. Hey, Morgan, either of your friends know how to play chess?
Morgan: Um.
Quinn: Morgan? Talking to someone?
Morgan: Oh! No, just thinking.
Laura: Hey, Quinn, do you play chess?
Quinn: I’m not that into board games. Why?
Laura: Well—
Morgan: Actually, Holly does. Why don’t we ask her?
Laura: …That could work.
Quinn: Should probably rescue her from Evan anyway.
-the three girls wander over to Holly, who is ignoring Evan in favor of her phone. Evan seems nonplussed-
Laura: Hi, Holly! You’re Morgan’s sister, right?
Holly: Actually, we only just met.
Laura: Wait, but—oh. Got it.
-she laughs-
Laura: Morgan said you know how to play chess?
Holly: I’ve dabbled.
Laura: How fast do you think you could teach me?
-beat-
Holly: Odd request.
Laura: I’m an odd person.
Evan: You don’t know the half of it. She color-codes her socks.
-Laura blushes-
Morgan: Don’t feel weird. I do that too. I mean, they’re all black, so there’s not much point, but…
-everyone laughs-
Laura: Seriously though, can you teach me? I always wanted to learn.
Holly: Uh…okay?
-cut to Laura and Holly sitting across from each other-
Holly: Okay, so setup looks like this.
Laura: Right. The pawns go in front. That makes sense. And the horses—
Holly: Knights.
Laura: What?
Holly: The horse pieces. They’re called knights.
Laura: Why?
Holly: Because.
Liz: Laura, let it lie and keep going.
Iggy: You know, shogi has knights, but I think they’re a little more sensible. They can’t—
Morgan: Ssh.
Quinn: I didn’t say anything.
Morgan: Oh, I meant Evan.
Evan: …I didn’t say anything.
Morgan: Preemptive strike.
Evan: Classy.
-cut again. Liz has wandered away-
Quinn: So, Laura, how’d you and Morgan meet, anyway?
Zaresi: Laura. Ask her how promotion works.
Laura: Uh, not now.
Quinn: Oh, sorry.
Laura: No, not you. Evan.
Evan: What did I do?
Laura: I’ll think of something. Sorry, Quinn, I don’t mean to ignore you, making fun of Evan is a full-time job. Anyway, Evan spies on people during Calc, and he knows I like helping people out when they’re struggling.
Evan: Correction: You like helping cute girls out.
-everyone turns to Evan in shock-
Evan: What? Turnabout’s fair play.
-he wanders off-
Laura: That is—
Quinn: I mean, you’re not wrong.
-Morgan blushes. Quinn shoots her a wink. Laura laughs-
-an awkward silence occurs-
Holly: …So, anyway, the next thing you need to know about chess—
Zaresi: Laura. Promotion.
Laura: No, I get it, don’t worry.
Holly: Oh, I’ll just skip castling then.
Laura: Wai—
-cut again. Evan and Liz are talking in the background-
Holly: And that’s called checkmate.
Zaresi: I do not understand. How can a pawn threaten the king?
Laura: Um...wait. Holly. This is only a pawn. Why can it take the king?
Holly: That’s just how chess works. At the end of the game, everything goes back in the same box, right?
Laura: Oh. That makes sense.
Zaresi: It does not.
-one of the Reapers accidentally bumps into Holly-
Holly: Ow! What was that?
Morgan: Uh…Evan.
-Holly turns to see Evan about ten feet away, talking with Liz. She picks up a nut off the ground and pegs him in the head with it-
Evan: Ow! What the hell?
-Morgan gives the universal “sorry” face, though sticks her tongue out at him when he turns his back-
Quinn: Can I throw something at him too?
-cut-
Holly: And that’s chess. Any questions?
Laura: No, I…think I get it. Everyone good?
Holly: Who’s everyone?
Laura: …Evan. I said Evan.
Holly: I don’t understand your friendship with him.
Laura: Neither do I.
Zaresi: I think I understand chess now.
Laura: Alright then.
-she coughs, and covers her mouth, looking startled-
Laura: Glad that’s dealt with.
Holly: Are you going to explain why you wanted to learn chess so urgently?
Laura: Oh, well…
-she looks around for clues-
Laura: I made a bet with a dragon to play chess with him, and if I lose he’ll eat my soul.
-there is a long pause. Liz quietly facepalms. Quinn tilts her head-
-Holly laughs-
Holly: Well, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.
-Laura breathes out a sigh of relief. Quinn looks a little downcast-
Quinn: Well, as fascinating as this is, I should be getting home. I’ll see you around, Morgan, Holly. Laura.
Evan: Evan?
Quinn: Nah.
-and she’s off, leaving everyone else laughing-
Evan: I don’t understand why people are so rude to me.
Morgan: It’s because you’re an awful person and you’re terrible to everyone.
Evan: Well, sure, but aside from that.
Holly: You’re also generally uninteresting to talk to.
Evan: That’s just slander.
Liz: Attention Magicians!
-everyone turns to Liz sharply, except of course Holly-
Holly: Huh?
Liz: It’s that time of day.
-Morgan pales-
Holly: Is something wrong?
Morgan: No, nothing, but…is it okay if I go with Laura now? I’ll be home soon, I promise.
Holly: Actually, I was hoping we could spend some time as sisters, but I suppose.
Morgan: Well, you know how it is.
Holly: How…what is?
-Laura casually loops an arm around Morgan’s and pulls the other girl in close-
Holly: …Oh. I see.
-she nods sagely, while Morgan turns a bright red. Laura winks. It comes out a little better than last time-
Holly: I’ll just…head home, then. Have fun, you two! Be safe!
-she gives Morgan a (not very) covert thumbs-up, and strolls away, whistling-
Morgan: Holly!
Holly: Hmm?
Morgan: I love you!
Holly: …Alright. Thank you.
-and she’s gone-
Laura: What was that?
Morgan: In case we…well, in case.
Laura: …Ah.
-the two are still linked, though they don’t seem to notice-
Liz: …Well, that was an inventive cover.
-Laura and Morgan immediately separate-
Laura: I’m sorry I didn’t mean to do that I just couldn’t think of anything else and—
Morgan: Don’t worry about it I wasn’t exactly coming up with anything it’s fi—
-the two cut off and make faces at each other-
Liz: I always found that that excuse caused more problems than it solved. But I’m sure you’ll work things out.
-Liz goes to talk with Zaresi, leaving Morgan and Laura alone-
Morgan: …Want to go fight a Dragon?
Laura: Really badly, for some reason.
-the two sprint away to join the Reapers. Liz glances over at them and sighs-
-cut to the Night Parade again, arriving at the library. Eneril is waiting there, surrounded by odds and ends-
Zaresi: Eneril.
Morgan: (to Laura) He’s still pretty cut-price. And he looks like a hoarder now.
Laura: Ssh!
Eneril: Wow, you actually made it? I’m almost impressed.
-he yawns-
Eneril: I mean, I’m still going to annihilate you and drink your essence, but I guess you’ll make a nice diary entry.
Zaresi: Arrange your side.
Eneril: Gladly. Just let me slip into something more comfortable.
-and now he’s a dragon-
-like, full-blown dragon-
-a brought-ruin-to-Erebor, throw-down-your-weapons-and-run, Seto-Kaiba-wet-dream dragon-
Morgan: …Oh.
Laura: …Yeah.
Morgan: …Now that’s what I’m talking about.
Laura: We’re going to die.
Morgan: We’re going to die complete.
-Eneril expands his wings, and shapes flicker into life across the ground in front of him. They form a chessboard pattern and then populate it with vague humanoid shapes-
Eneril: Your turn!
Zaresi: Assemble.
-they do. The Reapers organize in front as pawns, Zaresi takes the King space, Liz the Queen, Evan the King-side Rook, and Morgan and Laura the Queen-side Knight and Bishop respectively-
-there is a pause-
Eneril: …Anyone else? I’d heard this town was a little dry on Magicians, but this is just sad.
-he licks his lips-
Eneril: At least you smell powerful. I’ll enjoy devouring you.
-he lazily hunches over, letting out a low growl as a puff of smoke rolls out over the board, and flicks his tongue in Iggy’s direction. The Reaper gulps and takes a step back-
Eneril: You know, Liz, you said this would be a challenge, but I can’t say I’m seeing any good reason not to just go ahead and take a bite…
-Zaresi steps forwards, forming a scythe, and slams it into the ground. An explosion of Death magic wells up, burning the tip of Eneril’s tongue. He withdraws, and Zaresi forms a second scythe, glaring up at the Dragon-
Zaresi: We will make do. Adhere to your terms.
Eneril: A little fight to you. I appreciate it.
Zaresi: And I would appreciate it if you refrained from threatening my Reapers.
-Eneril gives a toothy grin-
Eneril: Whatever you say.
-meanwhile, Laura is hyperventilating, and Morgan is attempting to comfort her-
Laura: I don’t believe it that’s actually a dragon and we’re trying to play a game of chess against it and we don’t even have all the pieces we need and—
Morgan: Hey! Hey!
-she places her hands on Laura’s shoulders-
Morgan: Weren’t you the one telling me not to worry?
Laura: Okay but that’s a giant snake and a giant bat and it flies and breathes fire a-and it could kill us all pretty much whenever and—
Morgan: Oh, it’s just an oversized lizard. A really cool oversized lizard, but still. And I’m not going to let it hurt you.
Laura: What?
Morgan: It’s a knight’s job to keep the bishop safe, right?
Laura: …Is it?
Morgan: Eh. I’m gonna do it anyway.
-she helps Laura up-
Morgan: We’re going to win this, just like you said, okay?
Laura: …We’re still down three pieces.
Morgan: It can’t make that much of a difference, right?
Laura: Honestly? No clue.
-she half laughs, half sobs-
Liz: Morgan, Laura. The game is beginning.
Eneril: Okay, if you’re all done moping and making peace with your imminent demise…it’s my move.
-e4-
Zaresi: Morgan. The book said that knights can move over other pieces, so intercept the pawn.
-Morgan takes a deep breath, looks at Laura, and grins-
Morgan: On it.
-Nc6-
Eneril: …Just to clarify, do any of you actually know the rules of chess?
Zaresi: Technically? Yes.
Liz: …Very technically.
Eneril: Got it. Well, have fun dying.
-he examines the board, and lets out a low chuckle-
Eneril: May as well have fun with this.
-Qg5-
Zaresi: I do not get it.
Liz: It makes sense to me. You want to bring your most powerful piece onto the board as quickly as possible.
Zaresi: Was there not something about bringing out knights first?
Liz: Sure, but…
-Morgan, meanwhile, has been looking at the board, and her eyes widen-
Morgan: Zaresi, if you don’t castle now, we lose a Reaper and Evan.
Zaresi: Pardon me?
Morgan: Look! His queen can just come down, take that pawn, and then Evan’s a sitting duck, no matter where he goes!
-Zaresi examines the position. A cloud of darkness swirls up around her-
Zaresi: …There will be time to work on your tone later. Thank you for noticing.
Evan: Uh, as Evan, I’m not really okay with this.
Reaper: As the Reaper, I am also not.
Evan: Yeah, but nobody cares.
Zaresi: Very well. A clever attempt, Eneril, to aim for blood so early in the game.
Eneril: Uh, yeah.
Zaresi: Now. Liz. How do I castle?
Liz: Um.
Morgan: I think you have to go around Evan?
Zaresi: Well. Obviously, I will have to move the pawn first.
-g6-
-Eneril stares-
Eneril: …Congratulations. You completely misunderstood the entire concept of castling.
-he narrows his eyes-
Eneril: Unfortunately, you somehow also stopped me from attacking. I’ll have to remedy that.
-Bb5. Morgan gulps-
Laura: Be safe…
Zaresi: You aren’t the only one who can attack. Reaper, forward. Laura, be ready.
-d5-
Eneril: …You’re joking. Right? You have to be joking. That’s your move? You lock all your pieces into a useless quagmire, you fail utterly to comprehend the strategy of the game you’ve staked your life on, and you have the audacity to threaten my queen? Well, fine. If you’re so eager to see a little violence, I will happily oblige.
-exd5-
D5 Reaper: Uh-oh.
-a gold shimmer appears around the Reaper, and Eneril’s tongue flicks out, wraps around the unfortunate Spirit, and reels him in. It’s instant and horrifying. Everyone stares-
Eneril: Mmm. Chocolate-y and smooth, but just a slight kick. I can’t wait to find out what the rest of you taste like.
Morgan: Okay, so that was horrifying.
Eneril: And you’re next. Isn’t that nice?
-Morgan eyes the two pieces threatening her, and starts to generate a scythe-
Eneril: I wouldn’t do that if I were you. If you break the rules, I might feel tempted myself.
-he flicks his tongue out lightly-
Eneril: Take my queen. I dare you, Zaresi.
-Morgan looks at the board again-
Morgan: Wait, you have to.
Laura: What? Why?
Eneril: Because if she doesn’t, then my queen will take you.
Laura: …Oh.
Eneril: Of course, if you do, I’ll have my pawn take your knight. You’ll be able to continue playing, but either way, you lose someone. It’s awfully difficult playing chess when you have an emotional attachment to the pieces, isn’t it? So, Zaresi, crunch time.
-he punctuates this by snapping his jaws together-
Morgan: Zaresi, you have to let Laura take the queen! I’m pinned down anyways, so—
Laura: I…Morgan…
Zaresi: …Right. Liz.
Liz: On it.
-Qxd5. Liz slashes the pawn in half with a wing, and Eneril bursts out laughing-
Morgan: No!
Eneril: Congratulations. You lose. Get her.
Morgan: NO!
-the queen rushes Laura, who purses her lips-
-and the queen explodes. Qxx-
Eneril: …What?
Zaresi: Seems like your control spell failed and your queen escaped. Do not worry, it happens to everyone from time to time.
Eneril: …No matter. I’ll create a new one.
Zaresi: That seems to me like it would be cheating.
-Eneril stares at Zaresi-
Liz: You can’t manage minus one piece? That would be embarrassing, considering we’re facing you missing a knight, bishop, and rook.
-Eneril snarls, flames licking up the edge of the board…but he regains his composure-
Eneril: …Very well. We continue.
Zaresi: Our move, I believe. Liz, clean up.
-Qxb5-
Eneril: You are rapidly beginning to get on my nerves.
Zaresi: Are you sure you play chess yourself?
Eneril: Once I absorb your soul, I’m going to turn you into my personal toenail clipper. Not that I need one, but I’m going to have you do it anyway.
-Nc3-
Zaresi: Liz.
-Qe5 check-
-Ne2-
Zaresi: Laura. Your turn.
Laura: Right.
-Bg4-
-as Laura passes Morgan, she takes a deep breath. Morgan gives her a wave and a thumbs-up-
-Eneril growls-
-00-
Zaresi: Oh, is that how you do it? Evan, did you see that?
Evan: Yes, madam.
-00. Eneril snorts-
-d4. Liz eyes the pawn impassively. Qd6-
Eneril: Now for the fun bit.
-Bf4-
-Qf6-
Eneril: Time for another little appetizer.
-Bxc7. Chomp-
Iggy: Not exactly heartening…
-Zaresi hisses-
Zaresi: Liz.
-Qf5-
Eneril: You aren’t as clever as you think you are, you know.
-QRc1-
Zaresi: Evan. Put the fear of me into that bishop.
Evan: Got it!
-Rc8-
Eneril: Ugh, you don’t give up, do you?
-Be5-
Zaresi: Now, Morgan, please capture the bishop.
Morgan: Wait, what?
Zaresi: Please capture the bishop.
Morgan: I heard you, but…what?
Zaresi: Please capture the bishop.
Morgan: But the pawn’s there!
Zaresi: That is an acceptable sacrifice. After the pawn takes you, Liz can take the pawn, and Eneril’s offensive force will be all but shattered. I apologize for the necessity, but I will not ask again.
Morgan: …But…
Zaresi: Now, Morgan.
-she hesitates-
Laura: Morgan!
-Morgan turns to Laura, who seems fairly upset-
Laura: Zaresi has given all of us lives. She asked for our service in return. If she…
-she breaks off-
Laura: If this is what she wants to do with it, then I’m sorry, but…
-she can’t keep talking. Morgan watches her, clenching her fists-
Evan: Oh, get it over with. Morgan, do your job.
Eneril: You could always break the rules. Provoke me. Give me a reason to go right ahead and slaughter everyone here.
-he licks his lips-
Morgan: …No. I’ve got this.
-she steps forward, conjures a scythe, and slashes the bishop in half. Nxe5-
Eneril: A true soldier. Stand up straight so I can eat you.
-and the pawn explodes (d4xx)-
Morgan: …What.
Zaresi: Pity, that.
Eneril: …But…how…
Zaresi: You really need to keep your rituals under better control.
Eneril: …Something’s at work here.
Zaresi: Prove it.
Eneril: …Make your move.
Zaresi: Gladly. Liz.
-Qe6-
Eneril: You won’t escape me!
-Nf4-
-Qc4-
-QNe2-
-Qxa2-
Eneril: I—I…
-Rb1-
-Rxc2-
Evan: Hiya, Eneril!
-Nd4-
-Rc4-
-Nf3-
-Nc6-
-h3-
-Bf5-
-g4-
-Be4-
-Rc1-
Eneril: Now. Once again, you’ll just have to make a choice. Rook, or knight? Go on, Zaresi. I’m getting hungry.
Zaresi: Mm-hmm. Laura, take the knight.
Laura: You’re sure?
Zaresi: Always.
-Bxf3-
Eneril: Well, rook, I suppose you’re not that highly valued.
Evan: Do what you need to.
Zaresi: Just make sure you do not have another little accident on the way.
Eneril: Pardon?
Zaresi: I am just saying. Seems to happen every time you try and capture a piece.
Eneril: It won’t.
Zaresi: If you insist.
-Eneril growls, narrowing his eyes-
-Rb1-
Zaresi: Whoops.
-Rxf4-
-Eneril breathes out smoke-
-KRc1-
-Nd4-
-Ra1-
Zaresi: Reaching…
-Qxb2-
Eneril: Ready to lose another Reaper?
Zaresi: At which point you would have lost the game, of course.
Eneril: …Fine by me. Die.
-Iggy gulps-
-and the rook explodes (QRxx)-
Eneril: No!
Zaresi: So very tragic. You are just falling apart at the seams here. Liz?
-Qxc1 check-
-Kh2-
-Ne2-
Eneril: …You won’t win.
Zaresi: We already have.
-indeed, looking at the board, it’s now checkmate in one-
Eneril: No.
Zaresi: Most definitely.
Eneril: None of you even know how to play chess!
Zaresi: And yet here you are. Defeated. As per the terms?
Eneril: …You cheated! You did something!
Zaresi: Nonsense. You merely could not control your rituals.
Eneril: …Control this!
-the chessboard explodes into light. Eneril rears back, sucking in air for a blast of fire-
-Zaresi and Liz step forward. Zaresi conjures a scythe, Liz spreads her wings, and both deliver vicious strikes to the Dragon, who crashes back, his form flickering-
Liz: Thought so.
Zaresi: Your spell to conjure the chessboard must have been exhausting for you, Eneril. Let alone controlling all those Spirits at once. It’s a wonder we did not watch you gutter out on the spot. But then, to challenge us directly after?
-she generates a second scythe-
Zaresi: It was hopeless from the beginning.
-Eneril growls-
Zaresi: When you leave, send out word to your friends. Conquerors are not welcome here.
-Eneril flickers with fire…and then abruptly returns to the form of a human-
Eneril: I honor my wagers. Unlike some.
-he snarls-
Eneril: I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again, Zaresi. I can assure you, the next time I pay a visit, I won’t be put off by a chess game.
Zaresi: Then I look forward to defeating you again.
-she curtsies. Eneril snorts-
-and he disappears in a puff of flame-
Zaresi: And that is that. Thank you, Liz, for the opportunity.
Liz: No problem.
Morgan: That was the most terrifying experience of my life, though also probably the coolest.
Laura: Agreed.
Evan: Absolutely.
Liz: Take it…as a lesson. Do whatever you need to in the heat of battle. Lie, cheat, bluff, appeal to pride, and claw every advantage you can out of every opening you’re given.
Morgan: So you do know how to play chess! I knew it!
Liz: …No. That was blind chance.
Morgan: Well, good to know that you set all of us up as bait and we only lived because our scaly friend couldn’t handle his rituals.
-Laura claps a hand to her mouth. Liz seems amused though-
Liz: There you may have had a little help.
Laura: …You didn’t.
Liz: You may have noticed that the disintegrating pieces had previously been next to me?
Laura: …You did.
Evan: Remember how I saved your life back in the alleyway, Morgan?
Morgan: …No.
Evan: Of all the ungrateful…
Liz: Evan and I prepared a handful of uses of a ritual that disrupts and releases the magic stored in an object. Excellent for destroying a ritual or slow-acting spell, and apparently handy for freeing Spirits trapped inside Eneril. Some good acting on the part of the rest of you sold the show.
Evan: The explosions were not necessarily part of the plan, but they were remarkably amusing.
Liz: By which he means they’re a side effect he can’t control.
Evan: Gotta have the last word, don’t you?
Liz: You make it easy.
Morgan: Wait, you were never near that rook.
Evan: Yeah, when did you use the ritual then?
Liz: Oh. That was a bluff.
-Evan stares-
-Liz grins, and strolls away-
Evan: I get no respect.
Laura: As it should be.
Zaresi: You should all get some rest. It has been a long couple days.
-people start to split up, some of them scooping up keys as they go. Morgan and Laura head off together-
Morgan: You know, for all that Zaresi has bossed everyone around, she’s…surprisingly personable.
Laura: I did tell you. It’s not all bad. At the very least, you’ll always have a community.
Morgan: You’re not wrong.
Laura: Now let’s get ourselves home. I don’t know about you, but I hurt in places I didn’t even know I had.
Morgan: …You’re not wrong.
-the two walk along-
Morgan: …What you said back there, Laura? When I was taking the bishop?
Laura: …I thought that might come back to haunt me.
Morgan: I mean, I could have died. You could have died. Doesn’t that bother you?
Laura: Of course it bothers me. You think I want to die?
Morgan: I don’t know, but I know you don’t seem to put a very high value on your life.
-Laura is silent for a while, and then starts to talk-
Laura: I live alone with my brother. My parents were both sick, and…they died a few years ago. I wasn’t sure what to do, and I went to pray…and Zaresi answered. She takes care of us, she helps out with jobs and money, and she got Liz to set up a few rituals that make sure people leave the house alone. When I say I owe her, I’m really not exaggerating.
-Morgan stares-
Morgan: I’m sorry.
Laura: You didn’t know. I’m sorry I told you to…
Morgan: No. It’s…it worked out.
Laura: I just…I have to trust that she knows what she’s doing, right? Even if she asks me to sacrifice myself, if I don’t believe that she’s doing the right thing…how can I let her keep taking care of my life?
Morgan: I…
-the two sigh-
Laura: …You should get home. Your sister must be worried sick.
Morgan: Right.
-she doesn’t turn around, though, instead gazing at Laura-
Laura: …Good night?
Morgan: …Night.
-they go their separate ways-
-and Morgan arrives home-
Holly: Evening, Morgan. How’s life?
-she grins-
Morgan: It’s…it’s good.
Holly: It doesn’t sound good. Is something wrong?
Morgan: …Nope.
Holly: Really?
Morgan: Cross my heart.
Holly: Alright, then. Just keep yourself safe. We both know you can’t do that that without me around.
-Morgan laughs hollowly as Holly walks away, and takes out her phone, looking at a picture of the angel statue-
Morgan: …Uh, so, I almost died today.
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Elendenal sat down with a creak of plate, moving his right hand - unadorned in plate, to enable his intended task - to take the pen from its place inside the holder, looking down to the parchment spread before him. A moment’s consideration and he set the pen to paper, writing his thoughts upon its surface.
Zephyr 25, 1300 AE
I find myself at something of a crossroads, writing these thoughts upon paper as a means to draw the feelings associated to them from me, and perhaps establish a record to be used in future. Let me state for the record herein, that I am a man conflicted. These past weeks have seen extraordinary developments in my life, but so too have they seen me face challenges I did not - perhaps naively - expect to have to confront again. There are barriers in my path, now, that must be removed with utmost delicacy: lest the effort to do so shatter the very thing I wish to reach beyond their obstacle.
I have been made Field Marshal of the Coalition, if that is what it can be called, at Lake Doric. This is not how I intended to spend my time at this Camp, but neither can I write here in honesty that it is a turn of events I am going to strive to oppose. My arrival in Lake Doric was less a conscious decision and more a matter of providence: a path that was laid for me by Balthazar, I suspect, through my mortal associates. If not for that night in the Rurikton Cafe, I never would be here.
None of this would have happened, had I not met Margrave Elysian, my now-dear friend and brother in cause, upon that auspicious evening.
It is ironic, I believe the term is, that I am impeded in my task to rid the enemies of mankind from Lake Doric by the very people that convinced me to give my aid here. Lady Aubrey Valente knows not how much she changed my life, with that simple suggestion of hers. Luxelen, my friend - or so I hope - stands as the largest impediment in my attempts to bring an end to the carnage and suffering in Lake Doric. I have attempted to reason with her, and shown her respect and courtesy in the act, and at best she has responded with cool disdain.
I am told by Alissa Lepre, the newest member of the Scions of the Six, that it is Luxelen’s way of adapting - that she will ‘come around’ eventually. While I am not opposed to her having the time she needs, it makes me worry for the people of Lake Doric. While the one that should be an ardent ally dithers, they die by the dozens, and more refugees are created every day. It is not that I do not understand her recalcitrance, it is simply that I do not believe that this is the place for it. I will never understand her mind, I fear, for we are naturally opposed creatures, her and I.
The Refuge Defense Force will be recalled, according to Alissa, and that is for the better. Luxelen does not understand the fundamental necessitation of war: she is too passionate, too focused on what she sees - whether correct or incorrect - as an enemy to understand when she does not know something, or when her views are damaging, if not outright destructive. A rogue element in a battlefield, be it a single person or a full unit, pose a danger to their parent force and allies even greater than an enemy. A single misstep in the grand strategy, a single unforeseen disobedience, and the entire army risks shattering. It is one thing for your enemy to surprise you, it is far more catastrophic to be sabotaged from within - especially when that sabotage is entirely unintended.
If the R.F.D take to the field without being part of the chain of command, they will kill a great many people, and I fear many of them will be due to nothing more than idealistic ignorance. War is not like the stories, it is not a tale where a valorous few can make the difference in spite of everything else. It is methodical, it is alive, it is a constant game of chess between Commanders. One piece out of place, and the entire board is compromised. If against all odds they take the field and refuse orders, I will not sanction a diverting of force to save them, and nor will I allow them to deploy within a mile of Coalition forces.
I cannot justify killing dozens, perhaps hundreds more, and crippling our forces to rescue a unit that is at this stage more of a strategic impediment than a benefit. I pray they do not fight, they are good people, kind people, even if they make terrible soldiers. Humanity needs their compassion, their kindness, and their benevolence - but I cannot use a sword that refuses to swing where it is directed, and the R.F.D is akin to the most unreliable blade in the armoury.
Luminary Drake Griggs also appears to be a potential obstacle, which is odd from a man I considered a fast friend. At the meeting I called for the military leaders of the camp, Lord Griggs was at best a quiet observer, at worst mildly disinterested. He strikes me as a man of few words absent cause, yet it was his support I was accounting as one of the most resolute. Perhaps this estimate of him as a man unconcerned with politics was overhasty. The Luminary offered no objection when I was nominated with Aodhan and Cainneth, yet now he appears almost to be avoiding me, as if he does not wish to acknowledge the reality of what occurred.
This is worrisome, as I factored he and Cervato Haswari both as staunch and committed allies in this war. I pray I can still count on Cervato in this, but if the Luminary is hedging, I cannot help but feel she will follow him in doing so. This would be crippling to our coalition; the Accord is set to lead the main core of our infantry.
Aodhan Helstrom, Morgan Valister and Cainneth Cross I have no concerns about. The first is a man of war, he knows what’s needed and he understands the demands of honour and commitment to purpose. I foresee many late evenings discussing strategy and tactics with the weathered Headmaster, a disciple of Balthazar in both thought and deed. Cainneth Cross I can safely say has become a treasured friend, and a source of unerring integrity and wise counsel. Of all those to have joined the Scions, he truly is an Exemplar in truth. As for Morgan Valister, she is precisely what one would expect: austere, stoic, and utterly merciless. In her eyes, I see the rage of butchered Ascalon, and a war fervour to rival mine own. Lady Valister will be an integral part of this war effort, both for her mental acumen and the morale she will inspire in those around her.
These allied forces hold much promise, in the prosecution of the war against the Mantle. With Crown support coming from Cainneth, and the combined forces of the Accord, and Noble Houses part of the various organisations in camp, and the brilliance of the Schools, I had expected a powerful war machine. I am reminded, at this time, of one of my first initiatives: a campaign against a banner of Dragonsworn on behalf of the Vigil, in Scion 215, 1327 AE. We had tracked their forces to a large expanse near the Ascalon border, and I had been commissioned by the Vigil to prosecute the hunt for the heretics. I still remember their mad screeches as my couched lancers shattered them, the impact of the lances blowing apart their bodies and the thunder of the charge crushing skull and bone underhoof.
There is nothing more satisfying than a victory won through adherence to the doctrines of war: to adherence to honour, loyalty, and love of one’s comrades. I cannot think of a more fitting reward than the smiles of joy on the faces of those you led not into death, but into the new dawn, through superior use of assets and dominion of the strategic and tactical planes. There is a beautiful purity in the attainment of a good victory, of a pure victory, and the successful prosecution of an entire campaign - absent regret, or the stain of unsavoury deeds, neither of which I am pleased to say I have ever had the displeasure of experiencing.
Cristian Eskara is not in the same situation.
A man of considerable zeal, he continues to teeter between redeemed and damned, switching one day from humility and sombre remorse to arrogance and unapologetic savagery. The High Exemplar has become a wraith of his own destruction, justifying things that could never be justified, impugning my reputation and motivations, and diverting from the conversation the moment his contradictions and falsifications are highlighted. It saddens me. I have faith in Cristian Eskara, more faith than Genevieve believes I should have, but I cannot turn away from him nor forsake him. In many ways, he is a victim of his own circumstance, a war casualty over a much greater period of conflict. I wish to believe he can save himself from his own demons, even if nobody else will.
My next decisions will shape what is to come, and I know I must tread carefully. If I can secure the Luminary’s support, dispel Luxelen’s doubts, and manage to unite these people - to gain the chance I need, I can shatter any lingering misgivings. I will prosecute this war with integrity, honour, and valour befitting the God of War. I will take this burden upon my shoulders and carry it to the end of the line. I have no aspirations for Empire, no matter what Cristian believes: I just wish to end the suffering, end the bloodshed, and protect those falling victim to its growing violence. Every day this war drags on, good men, good women, pay for it. It is my duty to defend mankind against that which assails it, and no threat is greater in its immediacy than the Mantle at Lake Doric.
I pray that my comrades in this cause rally to me, that Drake, Cervato, Luxelen, Cainneth, Aodhan, Morgan, William and Cristian - yes, even dear, misguided Cristian - stand with me and give me the faith I need, the faith I have given them, to not just end this war: but do so in a way that every man, woman, and otherwise can look back on and say was done rightly, and properly. If they but offer me the moment, I will seize it, and victory will follow. This is not simply a fight for land or territory, it is a war for the human soul. How we fight it and how we win it are equally as important as winning itself.
I will pray they recognise the truth of my intent, and give me their support.
The alternative, I fear, is an end to all we have worked for.
Signed,
Elendenal Pendragon IV,
Scion of Honour.
( @luxelen, @cristianeskara, @genevievekent, @lordgriggs, @rising-ember )
#lake doric#the stormfall crusade#the stormfall coalition#cristian eskara#drake griggs#lucas elysian#luxelen larkspur#genevieve kent#morgan valister#cainneth cross#aodhan helstrom#cervato haswari#elendenal pendragon#story#the scions of the six#journal entry#memoirs
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I need a list on why you hate Jason everyone worships his stupid murder lovin jungle ass bless u 🙌🏻
~Him and his friends are immediately attracted to the prospect of Rook Island after Doug tells them it’s a place they can do anything at. Pretty much, knowing Jason and his company, they were up to no actual good from the beginning. By “anything” they certainly weren’t skydiving there with the sole intention of going on a tour of mere natural sightseeing and some harmless sunbathing. Read - the epitome of those annoying, irritating, troublemaker tourists you can’t wait to finally leave your hometown and never come back again after they spent the entire bloody holiday getting drunk, acting cocky and entitled, breaking stuff, being loud and doing drugs just because they pretty much can. Not gonna say they were asking for it - because nobody is asking to get kidnapped and sold into slavery - but, really, guys? Really?
~The definition of a careless, douche, disinterested boyfriend: Whether you like her or not, you have to admit Liza was attentive, patient, loving, overall okay and almost like a doting mother-hen over Jason, his friends and even his brothers when she really didn’t have to be. She was the more mature, responsible significant other that winded up with an overgrown man-child and still remained by his side and waited for him to grow when she could easily dump him for someone far better instead. Why not, after all? She wanted a a dude in his mental prime. She even implied it herself. Instead - he pretty much neglects her - for the first foreign chick he gets taken with and a tribal-vendetta which doesn’t even concern him to begin with. She deserved more then she got.
~Speaking of which - in truth, he’s a random newcomer who gets far too heavily involved with an old dispute between factions he knows nothing about. Citra was just as bad as Vaas. Vaas was just as bad as Citra. The two of them were just as bad as Hoyt. The Pirates. The Privateers. The Rakyat. None of these people was in the right. None of them was genuinely good for the island when you think things through in the long run. But, lets be honest - Jason succumbs to Denis’ over-idealized coaxing because he likes the idea of being a hero, the generalized “white savior” and getting the “exotic, stereotypical prize” in the end, namely Citra - who knows exactly what she’s doing. All of this happened because of the pussy. The pussy got to his head. Vaas warned him, guys. Several times at that.
~I cant believe I’m gonna bring this up. I hate bringing this up. It’s so cliched on this site and all. But, can anyone actually relate to Jason? At all? He’s overly rich, overly entitled, overly bratty, he’s got an amazing life even the actually wealthy would call going too far, all his friends also have amazing lives as well and amazing parents with great careers and he can afford spending time travelling around the world with his friends and pretty much being Mr. Worldwide Dick with not a single care in the world. I used the phrase “world” several times. World! In today’s economy? Nah! Who can genuinely feel bad for Jason’s plight when his existence thus far has been a big, fat vacation? If you’re a petty person like me - you’ll pretty much feel joy over his sudden misfortune because there’s nothing about him that would even remotely tug at your heartstrings. Even Hoyt’s more tragic - and Hoyt’s - well, Hoyt!
~Actually holding a knife to your crying girlfriend’s throat (even if you don’t choose the bad ending or even if you don’t quite like Liza Snow) and contemplating on abandoning your remaining friends and your little brother to some horrible, awful fate after you went through hell and beyond to save them from the clutches of a sadistic, international drug-cartel just because, again, the prospect of heroism and vagina is going to your head is not something I can overall approve of. Especially considering how his character was barely established. I don’t really see a jungle-torn, broken man when he does this. All I see is a dude-bro who can’t quite decide how many chairs he wants to sit on. Also - even if you choose the good ending, Liza should break up with your ass. Knife to the throat? You ACTUALLY thought about killing her for another chick, mate! Hell, no!
~From a very, very realistic point of view, as macabre as it may sound, burning Hoyt’s marijuana fields and semi-destroying his crime circle probably did more harm to the overall economy of Rook Island then actual good considering these people are isolated by an ocean on a piece of land that’s pretty much untouched by civilization outside of random WW2 barracks, huts, shipwrecks, crashed planes outposts and the like. So, now they neither have what to thrive off (in an, again, rather unhealthy sense - but, still.) and they’re governed by a fanatical, rather backwards matriarch who’s men are armed with guns and an over-bloated zeal. Jason Brody killed off one tyrant to create another tyrant, who just happens to have a major goddess-complex as well. Good job. Basically, absolutely nothing changed and everything still sucks if you’re a common guy living on Rook. Thanks, asshole.
~Ironically enough - I don’t mind him being a “murderous prick”. He had to be. Ajay Ghale was too and nearly everyone loved him (Another debate for another time). You can hardly survive a place like Rook without being one or eventually becoming one. He can hardly combat Pirates, Drug-Runners, Savages, Mercenaries and overall madmen through being a Zen-pacifist and defeating foes through polite words alone, right? That was kind of the entire point of the game, especially one of the Far Cry series. And even if he did have some prior training with weapons - lets be real - he’s kind of a Gary Stu. Pure wish fulfillment. A fantasy. I don’t care who you are or what you are. Cleaning out an entire island all by yourself is something not even John Rambo would do. Even Hoyt Volker needed an army of men behind his back when he first inhabited the place. I mean - c'mon!
~He’s incredibly, incredibly selfish. I’m so sorry, but he is. Right to the point where he sends someone else (Oliver, if I remember correctly) to deliver the sad news to his widowed mother that he’s dead and not coming back, thus outright lying and probably breaking her heart twice over in the process due to the fact her other son, Grant, died as well and she pretty much wont even get to see his corpse at this point or give him a proper funeral. You’d think his mother would and heck, even his little brother (and Daisy herself - who also lost a loved one in Grant) need him now more then ever alongside Liza who’s devastated and traumatized. But, nope. He’s staying in the jungle to tap that ass. Priorities. Compared to Ajay Ghale who pretty much climbed the Himalayas to fulfill his mother’s dying wish - yes, that’s very selfish.
~Brody’s journey and arc is not one of self-discovery. We just get the illusion of a deeper meaning with him. The more he progresses, the less we seem to know about him. Hell, we didn’t know that much about him to begin with outside a line-up of negative, childish traits worthy of an 80’s action shooter. And what did he learn in the end? Pretty much nothing outside the fact that he likes killing and that the jungle took over. Something. It took over something. We’d care - except, we weren’t introduced to his personality very in-depth to begin with. You can’t feel anything unless you know the character and end up relating. That’s why most of our sympathy goes to Vaas Montenegro instead - because yes, he’s a psychopath too. But he’s a fleshed-out psychopath.
~Other then that, any character can be made great, underdog or not. But, Jason Brody missed out on that extra mile of plausible development and the lack of a backstory or even a backstory hidden between the lines (See Vaas, Citra, Hoyt - later on, Ajay Ghale, Paul Harmon and even Yuma Lau). He’s simply a skin you slip on to feel cool - much like a fantasy of escapism. Hell, even Christopher Mintz-Plasse’s comedic cameo made for a more likable possible protagonist in the Vaas Montenegro Experience because he’s the insufferable, clumsy, cowardly klutz who doesn’t get any respect but still manages to overcome that in the time of need to an extent and go after his friend (Barry the Cameraman) with a machine gun and loyally stand up to a band of armed pirates despite of being scared out of his wits. It’s all about that. Relating is key. I personally, felt none of that with Jason Brody. If I was meant to care, I didn’t. Not as much as I was supposed to anyhow.
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Football and Politics
Now that the news and commentary on Yellowstone Public Radio and my Facebook newsfeed are full to bursting with one subject – the Trump administration – I'm hearing and seeing almost nothing about the Super Bowl. Thank heaven!
I should explain. Football, American or otherwise, is right down at the bottom of my list of favorite things. Given the choice, I'd far rather sit through ten hours of Senate debate on C-Span than watch a football game. In fact, watching paint dry might entertain me as much. Watching grass grow would actually be preferable. This isn't an argument against football; it's just me.
But what I have heard recently about the big game has led me to a troubling conclusion. Americans who talk about football know a lot more about their subject than do Americans who talk about politics.
Why is this? Well, for one thing, as complicated as football might be, it's nowhere near as complicated as politics. And there's another reason, maybe even a more important one. If you don't care about football, it doesn't affect you (unless your spouse watches it all weekend, so you either have to find something else to do or learn to enjoy it yourself, which means you have to learn about it). But, although politics, the art and science of government, does affect you greatly, you've never had to watch it. You could let it fly right over your head and it wouldn't make any discernable difference – or at least the difference wouldn't be discernable to you.
Things all began to change, though, with the recent U.S. presidential campaign, and they're changing even more rapidly now, in the early days of Donald Trump's administration. People who never before saw their civic duty as going any further than showing up to vote a straight ticket every two years (or every four years, or never) suddenly fell in love with politics, went to rallies, waved signs of delight or outrage, wore t-shirts emblazoned with "their" candidate's name, and got into heated arguments, singing the candidate's praises or insulting the opposing camp, at every opportunity. You'd think they were talking about a football team.
This could be a good thing. Many Americans of the last several generations have paid so little attention to their government and how it works that people from other countries are shocked at our apathy and, yes, our ignorance. More importantly, our version of participatory democracy requires not only that we participate but that we understand what we're doing. People who don't vote, or who simply vote without knowing why they're making the choices they're making, have no business complaining that their elected government is yanking them around. They're leaving themselves wide open to being yanked around. So it's nice to see that some of us are waking up at last to the realization that it all does concern us.
The trouble is, most of us have a lot of catching up to do. This has never struck me with so much force as it did during a lengthy discussion about the President's immigration ban, via Facebook, with a friend whom I haven't seen in person for almost twenty years. Our opinions on the issue are almost diametrically opposed, but we struggled on, trying to express them accurately and in some detail. Nevertheless, while we argued with logic and zeal, it soon became apparent that we were both out of our depth. I had a few more specific facts at my disposal, so it looked for a while as if I were ahead on points. But my facts – and my knowledge of dependable sources, along with the terms I'd need to search for those sources – ran out all too quickly. Fortunately we let each other off the hook and didn't wind up calling each other ignorant jackasses. But a lot of other folks, reaching that point, might have done exactly that and worse. Families have broken up over political arguments when, if the truth were known, none of the participants had a real clue what they were talking about. Fistfights have started. Murders have been contemplated.
If you know me, you know I have a strong liberal bias. But I'm talking about civic ignorance here, and I'm definitely not saying that Trump's supporters have a corner on that market. I've seen too many comments and rants and memes – especially memes – posted by my fellow liberals that are misleading, wrong-headed, or simply untrue. The fake news, the cherry-picking of data, and the snarling or patronizing emotional bias are equally distributed, right and left. Sometimes the people who spread this stuff are aware of what they're doing; sometimes they're simply ignorant.
In fact, and I hereby freely admit it, we are all too ignorant. Like the guy in the old song, we don't know much about history. We think it's old stuff, sort of fun in costume movies but basically trash we can toss out and ignore otherwise. We don't realize that historical events shape our present and can shake it to the bone. It's the past, so how can it make any difference now?
We don't know much about other parts of the world. We think of their people as "them" – odd ducks that gabble in strange accents, cartoon characters that look almost human (especially when they're babies) but are impossible to understand. And who cares, anyway? They either hate us or they want to be us, but they're not real enough to hurt us so they don't matter. Or, on the other hand, we think they're just like us, really. We're all humans, so deep down in their hearts they believe the same things we believe; we're really just one big family, aren't we, so why don't we all just get along?
We don't know much about how the planet we live on works. That's all too complicated to be bothered with, as long as everything is going well on our little patches of it this morning. That's for other people – scientists, the professionals – to worry about, and if something goes wrong somewhere they can somehow wave their hands and fix it. Or it could be they're lying to us anyway, pretending for some reason that things are going wrong. Why would they pretend that? Who knows. They're scientists, so they have strange minds, way beyond our understanding!
Really, we don't know much about our own laws or about how our government works. It's a well-oiled machine, checks and balances and yadda yadda yadda. It's worked since 1776 or whenever, so it won't stop working now. When we don't like what it does we complain loudly; when we like what it does we're happy, so why rock the boat?
When you come right down to it, we don't know much about anything but our own little specialties, the work we do every day, how to get there and back, how to operate the machines we own. Football, maybe. Our favorite celebrities. We don't have time to know much more, and we certainly don't have time enough to go to the library and check out a couple of books, let alone time enough to read them. Anyway, reading is hard, unless it's a real page-turner, fun and relaxing. Reading history calls for thought and focus. Reading about science is like reading in a foreign language. Reading dry explanations and commentary on constitutional questions makes our eyes glaze over. Reading and understanding thoughtful opinions we don't immediately agree with is difficult and unpleasant.
But we're not going to get what we need – an understanding of how things have worked in the past and how they work now – in any other way. Especially, we won't get an understanding of how our country and our democratic system is supposed to work, and how its workings depend on our knowledgeable participation – in any other way. We need to make the time, and somehow to summon the determination, to do it.
In the meantime, we can at least stop posting mindless memes and spreading false information, information contrary to fact, on social media, taking up each other's time with worthless blather and passing it on. If we don't know something and can't find out, we don't have to agree and comment on it just to be saying something. We can tell the truth, not just the part of it we happen to like. We can be polite to each other. We can stop attacking people on the basis of their looks. And we can behave like adults. I don't enjoy seeing Donald Trump's head photoshopped onto the body of a pig any more than I enjoyed seeing Hillary Clinton's head on the same pig, and I find it difficult to respect the person who thinks that's clever or amusing. If we've never learned the value of knowing something is true before repeating it, of putting our brains in gear before we start running our mouths, it's time to learn it now. If we have real respect for our country, we can remember that we are each part of our country and must have respect for each other and ourselves. We're not stupid; we can learn. And the more we know, the less likely we are to be frightened and confused and angry. We can stop lashing out at each other and turn our attention toward positive action.
We've been ignorant for a long time. It may even be too late to repair the damage our ignorance has done to our democracy, but if we're going to minimize that damage we'd better begin now to repair our ignorance. And we'd better be quick about it. We can't start all over again next year.
This is not a football game.
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