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#their relationship was always going to be the backdrop to the action plot of the season

teyamsatan · 11 months

Text

𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕍: 𝕀𝕥'𝕤 𝕀𝕟 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕀𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕖 𝕀'𝕞 𝕄𝕒𝕕𝕖

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: Neteyam's actions leave you aching and shamed, and life is made difficult by your attempts to avoid him at all costs, until it dawns on you that, much like your entire relationship, nothing good ever happens without reciprocation.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (mentions of violence, battle, blood, death), smut (oral - m receiving, orgasm denial), strong language, neteyam and reader being horrible to each other lol

wc: 6.4k words

a/n: we're in it now, besties. the plot thickens, much like reader/neteyam's steamy enmity and desire for each other. i hope you enjoy this chapter, and as always, thank you for asking to be tagged, commenting, sending me asks, it really keeps me going and i appreciate you so so much (thank you very much also to @cinetrix for her amazing Neteyam art and the prompt which inspired me so much and got me out of my writer's block ily bestie x)

na'vi compendium: yawne - beloved, Tsakarem - Tsa'hik in training, ketuwong - alien, txepvi - spark, teylupil - teylu-face, kurkung - asshole, skxawng - idiot, eveng - child, tsìltsan rewon - good morning, Oel ngati kameie - I see you, sa'nok - mother, ite - daughter, srane - yes, kä - go, Olo'eykte - female Olo'eyktan, tam-tam - calm, mawey - calm, oare - moon

: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

I'm only whatever you make me And you make me more and more a villain every day But you don't know, you reap, you sow Whatever you give to me, from yourself, you take Well, if you're a hater, then hate the creator It's in your image I'm made

The absence of his fingers, of him, from you, as he abandoned you, with your thoughts and insecurities, left you in a state of deep shock and shame - so much so, it took a good hour to finally get the strength to move the few steps it took to get to your tent.

Your mind was spinning with more thoughts then it could process, and as you continued worrying about the consequences of your actions, about all the ways Neteyam would find new ways to torture you and make you miserable, as you reeled from the ache that settled deep in your core from the emptiness he left behind, as you tried to understand the convoluted ways his mind worked and the reason he would ever do something like this to begin with, you found consciousness slipping away from you and in no time, you were asleep, taunted by dreams that you couldn’t find in you to call nightmares anymore, dreams about him finishing the job. At least in these dreams, you were safe, and he was nice, and his touch healed instead of breaking you further and further each day. You realise now it’s not what happens in these dreams that makes you think of them as nightmares, it’s the reality juxtaposed against them that sours their taste on your mind. It’s funny how even the purest, happiest moments can turn to ashes in your mouth when the backdrop is haunting and inimical.

It was evening when you woke, and the headache that accompanied your newfound conscious state was heightened by Lo’ak’s harsh voice, as he shook you back to a reality that still ached, that couldn’t have been better than the fantasies you just left behind.

“Lo’ak, stop shaking her, just give her a second.”

“Look, we have no time for pleasantries. She’s going to thank me for this.”

“Teylupil. Kurkung. Skxawng.” You curse in a hoarse, barely audible whisper, eliciting a laugh from Kiri and an exasperated groan from her little brother.

“Is this how you talk to the man that’s going to save you from an evening of misery?”

“What’re you talking about, you irksome little -“

“Just get up and I’ll tell you. What’re you doing asleep at this hour anyway?”

“Kiri, remove your brother before I remove him, and take one or two fingers with me.”

“Come on, Lo’ak, let’s make sure you’re still alive by Eclipse.”

You rose from your mat with a small wince as your head throbbed in pain.

“Are you alright?” Kiri’s hand was cold and soothing against your skin, and you placed your own hand on top of hers, grateful that she was here, if not for anything else, to dilute the intensity of Lo’ak’s personality while you were still recovering your strength. You couldn't look at your two favourite Sully siblings properly, not when the shame stung and dulled your senses, not when their eyes would remind you of his, and what you did.

“I’m fine, just… tired. I… broke up with O’i’en. Or actually, I guess he broke up with me.”

“Shit. Did he find out?”

You considered how much you should tell your friends about what transpired, knowing they’d have questions, knowing the answers might lead to more questions, some of which you couldn’t possible begin to explain.

“Yeah… Neteyam told him.”

“Fuck. I still don’t know what you possibly ever did to make Neteyam, who happens to be the most boring and calm person to walk this planet, so angry at you.”

You scoffed at Lo’ak’s statement, so obvious and speaking to a mystery that has plagued you for the last 7 years.

“Yeah… I love living my life paying for an imaginary slight he feels the need to remind me of every day.”

He thought about it for a second, his fingers stroking his chin in an obviously exaggerated contemplative manner.

“How do you know it’s imaginary if you don’t know what it is?”

The roll of your eye reminded you briefly of the headache that tried you, and how it was getting worse with each passing second you had to entertain this conversation.

“Look, even if it’s not, don’t you think it’s a little extreme?”

With a raise of his shoulders, Lo’ak continued.

“I guess… but it’s not like you make it easier for yourself.”

You felt your anger picking up speed, making your pulse quicken and heat rise in your cheeks.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you are just as bad to him. You’re both horrible to each other. Don’t get me wrong, it’s hilarious and we all get a kick out of it, but - OUCH, KIRI!” Lo’ak yelped in pain as soon as his sister’s elbow found its way in his ribs, and the theatrics continued as he collapsed on his side, until his head was on your lap.

“You’re the worst.”

“I still maintain my view that you both just need to fuck. Maybe this mateship is going to be the solution to all your problems.”

The flush of your cheeks brought about by anger only deepened at his words, that instilled memories that you still didn’t know whether you were trying to forget or imprint on your brain, memories that had no business flashing in front of your mind’s eye now, memories that might infer the beginning of the end of the world: Lo’ak finally being right about something.

“Yeah, cause what successful lifelong commitment hasn’t started with two people who despise each other?” You didn’t want to harp on a subject that you’d do everything to never have to talk about again, so you quickly changed the subject.

“Moving on. Why are you guys here?”

The two siblings exchanged awkward looks.

“Mum, dad and grandma were talking about you and Neteyam… about the ceremony and everything.” You could tell Kiri felt uncomfortable talking about the subject, and you were happy at least one of them was sensitive to the situation. “They want to sit you both down and pick a date. Grandma said something about the sooner the better. We thought you’d rather eat a Talioang tongue than do that, so we came to give you a heads up.”

Well, so much for changing the subject. You groaned, moving Lo’ak out of the way so you can raise your knees and place your head in between them, trying to make the world stop shaking and your heart stop trying to escape out of your chest. This can’t be happening. Not so soon.

“What did Neteyam say?”

“Neteyam hasn’t returned home, which isn’t like him. Have you seen him at all today?”

“No.” You lied.

That was weird. Why would Neteyam not return home? It’s not like he had any reason to hide, unlike you. You’d think he’d be the first one back in the tent, waiting to see if you’d show up for dinner, with a smug smirk plastered on his face, so ready and willing to taunt you for your momentary lapse in judgement and for being able to rub in the fact he won one more battle in your never-ending war, that until now was even, but now, felt completely thrown off balance.

“Do you want to get out of here?” The magic words, spoken to you almost like in a dream, pulling you out of your intense musings about the speaker’s older brother.

“It’s almost eclipse. You’re gonna get in trouble.”

Lo’ak snickered and rolled his eyes, almost upset that you would ever think that’s something he should care about.

“Come on. We can go to the labs, chill with the humans for a night.”

“As tempting as that is, I don’t think aiding and abetting the Olo’eyktan’s kids to leave after curfew is going to improve my situation in any way. You should go back. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Lo’ak huffed and puffed, but did as he was told, not before he left you with one last nugget of information.

“By the way, Norm and Max intercepted some new intel about a mission the ketuwong are planning. It’s in two days. Dad wants us all in strategy meetings and training all day tomorrow. That includes you. As soon as eclipse is over.”

“Roger that. Now go.” You kissed both of them on their foreheads, and watched as they left you with your thoughts.

Questions and worries plagued your mind, all, like most times, revolving around the oldest Sully sibling. Ponderations of how or why, of when or what, all swirling, all fluttering away, none of them settling enough to be thought about in detail, all of them flailing about, knocking every other thought from your consciousness until you were a panted mess of breaths and ringing heartbeats. You couldn’t be here.

Curfew has always been more of a suggestion to you than an order, so with that mentality deeply embedded in you still, you picked up your knife and bow and made your way out, walking past the Sully tent and into the thick forest, to a place you haven’t been in since that night Mo’at announced your engagement. You tried to shake the unnerved feeling that still haunted you as you remembered what last transpired there.

As you trekked past foliage and snuck past apex predators that were out hunting for the night, you eventually reached the meadow you've always loved so much. You didn't have time to breathe out a sigh a relief as you noticed a navy blue form turned away from you, toned, muscular back full on display. You would always recognise this body and the man who inhabited it, now and forever, as long as you would live, but still, you almost couldn't believe what your eyes were clearly showing you.

Neteyam was deep in thought as his feet dangled in the lake in which you liked to bathe and relax normally, that used to be a sacred place for you, one more thing he ruined in the time you've known him. He didn't hear you, you realise suddenly, and you were glad. He was the last person you wanted to see and you didn't know what you were feeling in this moment as you watched him, so unlike the Neteyam you always got to experience, so far removed from the man that always had his guard on around you, that was smug and arrogant, and primed to hurt you with every possibility that presented itself to him. This felt more like the Neteyam you used to know and love, that everyone else still gets to know and love, that you hear so much about on a day to day basis - the peaceful Neteyam, the considerate and shy Neteyam, the golden son, the epitome of what made the Omaticaya special.

You stayed hidden in the shrubbery that concealed the meadow, just watching him, and as the time continued, you found yourself relaxing, your own thoughts percolating and settling one at a time, until you processed as many of them as you had the strength to. A few things became clear to you. The priority right now were the Sky People. You had to fight, and you had to do it well - too many people relied on you for you to give anything else than your 100%. Neteyam was a distraction you couldn't afford - not right now, and not until this was done. Avoiding him at all costs seemed like the smart thing to do. Revenge could wait... for a little while. You pushed the reminder of the ceremony discussion from your brain. You didn't have enough power to consider the implications of the talk the Sully patriarch and matriarchs wanted to have with you and Neteyam. It was too soon.

Other things, you were more confused about than ever. In the end, you left with more questions than you came with, leaving him to his own devices, knowing you'll soon regret not having gotten at least a couple hours sleep before the two days ahead, both difficult, both with enough power to take more from you than you were willing to ever lose.

Why is he here?

What is he thinking about?

Were you on his mind at all?

Did you even want to be?

Could you stand it if you weren't?

You made it back to the village right as Jake and Neytiri came out, a sleepy, uncooperative Lo'ak following close behind.

"Ma eveng, tsìltsan rewon. Oel ngati kameie."

"Oel ngati kameie, sa'nok."

Neytiri made her way to you with wide, gentle steps. She always reminded you of these humans you once saw in a video the scientists showed you when you were younger, called ballerinas. She had so much poise, so much gentle, quiet power, that you have tried to emulate your entire life. Despite it paining you to admit, Neytiri was more your mother, more a role model, than your own mother ever had been. When she reached you, her hands found your face, that she stroked gently, running her thumbs under your eyes.

"Please tell me you've slept, 'ite."

Your tail stilled midair as you were caught red-handed, and you knew you either had to lie, a concept only familiar to you after being around humans, and one that you have to admit you found useful in certain circumstances, or deal with a long lecture, that you were much too tired for.

"Srane, sa'nok."

She gave you a skeptical look, one that told you she didn't quite believe you, but knew better than to probe, at least not in front of the Olo'eyktan, who would give you the ass kicking of a lifetime if he knew you weren't going to give your 110% over the following days.

"Kä. Get your bow and quiver and meet us on the training grounds."

You did as you were told, changing quickly while you were at it, realising briefly you have been in the same garbs for a long time now, something your mum would have told you off about. She always looked her best, always beautiful and presentable, always the most sought-after woman in the village. She had no grand aspirations, not like you, or like your father, who wanted nothing more for you than to be a warrior and a fighter, to be the best of the best, the best of them all. If it was up to him, you would be Olo'eykte. You tried to make both of them proud in their own ways - your mother, by continuing her secret weaving technique and always wearing the special garbs that only your family knew how to make, and your father, by becoming the pride and prodigy of your clan, and sharing that title with only one other person, none other than the prince of the Omaticaya.

Your heart picked up pace as you reached the grounds and in front of his parents stood Neteyam, looking perfect as always, not a single stray hair on his head, his braids flowing softly in the wind and chiming when the beads adorning them knocked into each other. You've always loved Neteyam's hair. It was always perfectly braided, and so weirdly emotive and... alive, sometimes looking like it moved on its own accord, a little like the tail that you saw moving in a circle, a sign he was not happy - what else was new?

When Jake spotted you, he nodded in your direction, which made everyone's attention shift to you, including his, and when his eyes trailed over your body, widening minutely, mouth slightly agape, you felt your cheeks burn and ears twitch nervously. He gained composure as quickly as he lost it, the slightly taken aback expression far removed from the one now displayed on his face, that he reserved for you, that you hated with every fibre of your being. The moment of vulnerability you witnessed yesterday was long gone, replaced by his usual contempt he liked to emanate as soon as you entered his personal bubble. You wondered if he was gonna rub your nose in it, if he was going to declare it to the world, let his friends know that you were another name to add to the catalogue of women he's fucked, or if he wouldn't want anyone to know - his little secret, only for his twisted mind to keep and thrive on. Your own mind tortured you with scenarios, each one worse than the last, before Jake pulled you out of your nightmarish thoughts.

"Kid. Come on, now, you can't go all mellow on me today. Tomorrow's a big one, I need you here, I need you with me. Can I count on you?"

"Yes, sir."

By the end of the day, that now went well into the night, you were more tired than you could remember being in years, and between the strategising meetings, the weapon training, the military drill exercises, and the hand to hand combat that Jake insisted would, at some point in your life, become useful, your brain was fried and your body sore and covered in mud and twigs.

The dirt that covered every inch of you was the kind which would stick to your skin and your hair for days on end, without any sliver of hope that it could get removed. You knew your braids were ruined, and so were your garbs, that you worked so hard for, that were all you had left of your family and your ancestors. It was a good day, you tried to remind yourself. A successful day. That’s all that mattered -not your clothes, nor the man that you were trying to avoid like he was a plague, or his gaze, or the heat that emanated from his body, or the memory of his fingers or his torturous ministrations.

“Good job today, both of you. Now go wash the muck off of you at the river and be back in 30 minutes so we can go over it and discuss what went right and what could have gone better. Dismissed.”

“Um- can I go to the lake instead?” The thought of being alone with Neteyam made your skin crawl. Is that what that was? It had to be. Skin crawling… yes, not goosebumps and shivers down your spine. Skin crawling…

You cringed a little at Jake’s expression, and his raised eyebrow which most of the time, and especially now, indicated annoyance or grievance.

“The lake is far, plus you wouldn’t be able to make it back in 30 minutes, kid. And it’s still dark. Is there a reason the normal river is not to your taste anymore?”

Your tail stopped in its tracks at his slight admonishment, ears pushed back so far, they were flat against your head. You hated disappointing Jake, almost as much as you hated Neteyam.

“No, sir.”

At the sight of you, Jake’s expression melted away and was replaced with a soft smile, one exclusively reserved for his kids. He approached you quietly and patted your head affectionately.

“That’s what I thought. Now come on, off you go, you little troublemaker.”

It was a short trek to the river that most Na’vi used as a personal bathing station, that was now deserted for the night. The training lasted longer than expected, and you knew eclipse would be over in a short couple of hours. You felt Neteyam’s eyes boring into your back and you did everything in your power to forget that he was there, but alas, it was near impossible when his presence overwhelmed your every sense, when it took over any thought in your mind, when the embarrassment of your encounter still rings painfully in you, telling you to run, or hide, or get your petty little revenge so he stopped having the upper hand in this scenario. The latter option, much as it has for years now, seems like the most obvious, the most alluring one.

The devious plan, that was just a slight variation of his own, as it usually was, was taking a more defined form in your mind with each passing second, especially after remembering the little human snap bracelets that were stronger than any Na'vi rope you owned, that were light and easy to carry, and that you conveniently happened to have in the little pouch that dangled from your waist. You just needed the perfect opportunity, and you believed in making your own luck.

Without looking behind you, you got into the river, purposefully bending until your hands reached your ankles, that you started rubbing and cleaning, taking your time as you moved slowly upwards, your ass fully on display for the male you knew would be watching, as he, too, was cleaning the day off him.

"Can you be any more obvious, yawne? You might as well have a 'fuck me' sign plastered all over you. Is that all it took, three fingers in that pretty cunt and you forgot you hate me?"

You ignored his words and continued cleaning yourself, until you were so squeaky clean, someone could eat off your body, which now, you felt like you craved more than food itself.

When you were done, you got out of the river, once more trying to be as sensual and inviting as you could, and you smirked as you heard him get out as well, his presence inundating your senses as he approached you, the way it always did.

"Are you finally going to apologise and behave? I knew you would event-"

You quickly turned and pushed him backwards, until he fell, a pained gasp escaping his lips as his back made contact with a tree. The snap of the cuffs was more satisfying than you would ever care to admit as they tightened around his hand, and almost as satisfying to you as his realisation of what you’ve done, of the fact that he was trapped, at your disposal, at your mercy.

“Let me out.” The growl he let out was low and feral, unamused at best and frightening at worst. Lucky for you, you’ve never really been scared of Neteyam. The smirk that blossomed on your face deepened as you watched him, squirming and pulling at the cuffs with all his might, getting angrier with every second he couldn’t untie himself. His tail was moving furiously behind him, slapping his calf with erratic, uncoordinated movements.

“You know, Neteyam... For far too long now, it felt like you had control over our dynamic. I hated it, every day, feeling weaker than you. When you came and grabbed me by the throat, it was the first time in my life I almost felt scared of you. When you came and told O’í'en about us, I felt almost like life was slipping away from my grasp and you were the quicksand through which it was falling. When you… when we-“ it took you a while to compose yourself and subside the purple stain of your cheeks as you remembered how he left you. “You made me feel things I have never felt before. And then you left. And I felt almost ashamed. I had just got out of a serious relationship, I broke someone’s heart, and all I could think of, was your fingers. I felt weak, and I hate feeling weak.”

You took advantage of the way he was entranced by your words, too focused on you for anything else, and took his other hand and tied it on an opposing branch.

“Fuck! Let me go!” His legs were thrashing in front of him as he struggled to undo the human contraption, but if there’s one thing you learned, is that humans knew how to imprison and hurt other beings the best, and for once, you didn’t mind taking a page from their books.

“Tsk tsk tsk… no, Neteyam, what do you say?”

“Fucking let me go, you little -“

“Mmm…” you pretended to think about it for a while. “No… i don’t think that’s it. Y’want to try again?”

He hissed at you, a hiss that sounded more like a roar than anything else, and heat ignited in your core at its sound, mighty and powerful, wild and untamed. Still, you kept your composure and the sweet smile that you knew would anger him further.

“No, that’s not either. You say ‘please’.”

You knelt in between his thighs, thick and muscular, and put a hand on each one, steadying yourself as you found yourself on your knees, heart thundering in your chest at your plan, that, despite the adrenaline, seemed more and more deranged with every passing second. His breath stilled at your touch, as did his body, his legs now limp on either side of you. His expression shifted, from one of unadulterated anger to pure shock, and a flicker of muted awe, eyes wide and mouth agape, canines tucked away behind his beautiful lips, that he wet with a swipe of his tongue.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing, Ne-te-yam?”

Your fingers dug in the meat of his lower limbs, thumb trailing over his inner thighs as you moved upwards, massaging him, stopping right before the part of him you itched to touch most, smiling to yourself as his breath laboured with every inch transversed. You wrapped your slender digits around his loincloth, making quick work of the knot that would have been safe from most other people, but not you - you and Neteyam learnt this knot together, back when you were still you and he was still him. Back when he loved you. No matter how much he wanted to forget you and what you meant to each other, he would never be able to, because you’ll always be there to use those memories - that he banished from the night of his mind - against him.

“You see, Neteyam… I’m not the most creative person, unlike you.”

His cock sprung free and you swallowed a gasp along with the saliva that gathered instantly in your mouth. He was huge, and for the first time in your life, you found yourself thinking… pretty, too. There was something almost ethereal about him, deep contrasted stripes running alongside his length, the pattern of his luminous freckles so exciting, you wanted to run your fingers… or your tongue, over them, connecting them with your mind to uncover the pattern it would form, one you wouldn’t mind getting to know over and over again, until it was imprinted into you, into your skin, into your mouth.

You looked at him, back against the bark of a tree, just as yours had been before, his arousal, that he tried to hard to mask on his face, given away by the endless pits that were his pupils, which almost completely swallowed his beautiful golden-green irises.

“Let. Me. Go. Or I swear to Eywa, I will make you pa-“

“Pay, yes, yes.. I’ve heard the speech before. And you know what? I know you’ll make me pay. You’re good at that. You like to think of these new ways to ruin my life, all inventive and new, all of them difficult to stomach and so, so pleasurable for you at the time, aren’t they? Yes… I’m not very creative, so keep in mind that anything I ever do, is your burden to carry… yawne. You made me, everything you hate about me, everything I hate about myself…”

You wrap your fingers around his cock, hard and throbbing under your touch, and watch as he throws his head back and lets out a small, intemperate groan.

“… I learnt from you.”

Slowly, you start moving up and down along his shaft, taking your time, observing every twitch of the muscles of his face, all the ways he was trying to refrain himself from giving into the pleasure that was wearing his resolve down. His eyes were so tightly shut, you wondered if it hurt, and you hoped it did. You hoped it all hurt, just as it hurt you. You turn your attention back to his cock, that was throbbing in your hand, and noticed the glowy liquid now covering the slit of his pink-purplish mushroomy tip.

“Am I making you feel good, yawne? I must be, since you’re dripping all over my fingers.” The sense of deja-vu couldn’t be lost on the male writhing beneath you, and you hoped every second of the incident was playing through his mind, like it has been in yours, ever since it happened. Not being able to contain yourself any longer, you sank down until your lips wrapped around him, the sweet taste of his precum staining your tongue as you swirled it around his tip, licking it clean. The moan that escaped him was music to your ears, erotic and sonorous and so unbridled, despite his best efforts, that it spurred you on, that it made you want to explore every inch of him until every striation of his cock was imprinted on your throat.

And so you did. Your mouth stretched to accommodate for his length and girth, too big for even your best efforts, and your hand wrapped around his base to reach what your mouth couldn't. You gagged as his hips bucked upwards, driving his cock deeper down your throat, until the tip was tickling the back of it. You stopped yourself from thinking about your heart skipping alternate beats as soon as his tail wrapped tightly around your thigh, almost as if claiming you, bringing you closer to him, attaching himself to you, almost if his body was telling you a secret he tried his hardest to repress, one that he could never speak out loud.

You could tell he was itching to free his hand, to entangle his fingers in your hair and use you as his own personal toy. He was itching for the control he desperate craved when it came to you, that you denied him, that you now had over him, that made him weak and puny under your touch.

You hallowed your cheeks as you devoted everything you had to sucking him off, the saliva pooling down his shaft and balls facilitating the bob of your head, that got faster and deeper the longer you did it, the longer his moans, that could no longer be contained inside of him, filled your favourite meadow and your ears, nestling in your body and making their way to your core, that ached and throbbed, that begged you to ride his cock until you were both just a limp mess of limbs on the mossy ground. Your movements met his synchronously, working in perfect harmony, as his heels dug into the ground and he started wildly thrusting in your mouth, his self-control long gone, as the pleasure reached new zeniths and you knew he was close to orgasm.

"F-fuck! Fuck, oh, please!"

Hearing him beg brought you to the brink of your own release, and with a couple more strokes, you released him from your mouth with a pop, sucking on his tip just a little extra, as if he was your own personal lollipop, just like the ones Norm introduced you to as a child. This one was so much better, though.

His eyes opened wildly as the lack of stimulation registered in his mind, chest heaving and mouth open, tail untangling from your body and thrashing violently, as the high came crashing down abruptly, just like yours had. You smiled, flicking your index finger over your lips and chin, gathering the remnants of his arousal before you closed your lips over it, sucking on it enthusiastically, eyes locked onto his own, dark and feral, and for the first time in a really long while, completely lost in you.

“You taste fucking amazing, tsxepvi. Maybe next time, if you apologise and behave, you’ll actually get to cum.”

You got up from your spot on the ground, removing your knife from its sheath and bringing it to one of the cuffs that looked like it had marked his wrist, and with a careful swipe, you freed him. Without sparing him a second look, you turned around and walked away, speaking as you left him, still shackled by one hand, naked and vulnerable, happy with yourself, unwilling to consider yet again the consequences of your actions and how the fear of retaliation, that you knew would be painful and ghastly, would hit you with enough intensity to cower you, just as soon as the adrenaline wore off.

"I trust you can get yourself untied... yawne. See you on the battlefield."

A few hours later, you could barely think straight, by the time you were preparing your beautiful ikran for battle, as she was dutifully waiting on you to finish, trilling softly whenever you pet her in between chores.

“Tam, tam, Oare.”

You felt guilty at the way you’ve handled the past few days, as images of O’i’en swirled in your tired, progressively drowsier mind, at how it took you no time to do… everything you did with a man you hated, a man that more and more it seemed your ex was somewhat right about, despite how much you wanted to banish the thought into the pits of Hell, where it belonged. You started to regret the fact you have not taken the opportunity to sleep when the opportunity presented itself to you, and now you were about to go into one of the most dangerous missions of your life, one that may even infer the future of your clan, worn-out and distracted, body trembling under the weight of your mistakes.

You spotted the man that affected you in ways no one else seemed capable to, face and body painted in war patterns, just like yours was, and winced a little when you realised he was already watching you, deep hatred imbued in his features - you knew there and then you were in for a world of pain, if you ever survived this mission to begin with. It actually hurt, thinking of all the ways he could still make your life a living nightmare, his ingenuity knowing little bounds and never diminishing throughout the years.

“You ready, kid? I need my little star in tip-top shape today. We’re all counting on you, you know?”

Jake’s voice, usually soothing and calming, was grating to your ears, although you had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t the voice itself as much as what the voice uttered, words that you didn’t want to hear at all, words that pushed you near the brink of collapse, whose weight you always almost buckled under, but now, with everything else going on, brought you to your knees. Still, you nodded, the desire to please and make him proud of you outweighing anything else you wanted to say, like asking for permission to sit this one out, like how, right now, you felt more like a liability than an asset. You had to do this, and you would, because they needed you, because they relied on you.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He tapped the little choker that was tied around your neck. “Make sure this is on, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

The war cries echoed through the Hallelujah mountain as the full might of the Omaticaya clan erupted through the floating rocks, bearing down on the helicopters and ships that were looking and scanning for signs of life, that were ready and armed to kill and torture, to destroy and burn life to the ground. On top of your ikran, bow tight in your hand, you normally felt unstoppable. You were unstoppable. Before you even had time to register it, 3 helicopters fell at Neytiri, Jake and Neteyam's hands, crashing into the mountains before exploding into nothingness, never to be seen again.

In the midst of all the chaos, you tried not to think about how hard it was to control Oare, how your own frenzied, disruptive consciousness was affecting her ability to fly and focus, how that in turn was making you miss shots you would have never missed otherwise, how that was further weakening your state, the whole endeavour a vicious cycle you saw no escape from.

"Mawey... mawey." you couldn't tell if you were talking to your ikran or to yourself, as you pet her gently, trying to return you both to a state in which you could be present and useful, the way you were expected to be.

The sudden pain that rushed over you was excruciating, worse than anything you’ve ever felt, worse than all your previous injuries put together, and with a trumping heart and fear poisoning your blood, that felt like it was spilling out of your body more with each passing second, you looked down at yourself, trying to assess the situation. There was nothing. The pain deepened as soon as realisation hit that the fatal wound and the ache that followed wasn’t yours, although it might as well have been.

“No…” your beautiful ikran, that has been with you every day of your life since you were 12, that not only witnessed, but facilitated every one of your victories, that was integral part of your life and happiness, that made you feel seen and understood, let out a screech so loud and filled with anguish, one that would haunt you for the rest of your life, that settled in your bone marrow and will forever have a home there, until your last day on this planet.

As she drew her last breath, you felt every ounce of happiness dissipate from your being, along with any sense of self, any sense of purpose. You had no time to dwell on your immense loss, not as your queues broke apart with her departure from this plane, leaving you in a free fall that would make sure that while you lost your sister, you would be following her close behind. The last thing you saw before you felt darkness enveloping you was Neteyam, and your last thought was how you must have imagined his panicked look and the tortured howl that left his body, as his hand reached out for you, his own ikran diving towards your falling form at full speed.

I sleep with one eye open and one eye closed 'Cause I'll hang myself if you give me rope I lost all my faith and lost all hope That everything means anything at all

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif@randxmthxughts @xreadersstuff @sirezaya @kimberlyshailany-blog @gyuventure @jujudsmyst @kikookii @nxptury @nonniesworld @koing-slvt @bakugouswaif @isnt-itstrange @tpwkforevermore @alahamums @tallulah477 @gknj9495@aquamarine001 @itssomeonereading @yumimak@sweetbread-m@eqgroil @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @juneonhoth @yagirlheree @jackiehollanderr @legendarynoodlebowl @iameatingmyhair @justasimps-blog @hannabanana-09 @xylianasblog @misscaller06 @yeosxxx @myh3artttt @teyamsbitch

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fogsrollingin · 4 months

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Time for some more Good Omens fic recs! These are the most recent fics I've read and loved. For all of them, nav to https://fogsrollingin.neocities.org/recs/goodomens 😈🪽 Cheers and happy readings! 📚🥂

Ocean of Secrets (illustrated) by magicbubblepipe. Explicit, 16k words, Aziracrow. Summary: When Crowley uncovers a plot to sink a so-called unsinkable ship, he decides to take credit for it and collect a commendation from the safety of his London flat. That is, until he spots a certain flaxen haired angel with a weakness for expensive creature comforts boarding the ship. He's forced to take action, lest his beloved be horribly discorporated. TL;DR Crowley and Aziraphale were on the Titanic. https://archiveofourown.org/works/23713294 The Titanic one - this one really stayed with me. It was such a lovely read, and I loved the epic horrifying proportions and backdrop of the Titanic. The author described the disaster very well.

Slow Show by mia_ugly. Explicit, 95k, Aziracrow. Summary: In which temptations are accomplished, grand romantic gestures are made, and two ineffable co-stars only take four seasons of an award-winning television program to realize they’re on their own side (at last, at last.) https://archiveofourown.org/works/20395261 Okay as someone who generally dislikes celebrity AUs, but I love drug addict redemption stories, I gave this one a shot (with over 12k kudos, it wasn't a hardship). Very well-written (you just know it's gonna be good when the author starts with a Richard Siken quote). Some terrific heart-wrenching angst that I adored. I appreciated the way the author mixed scenes from Good Omens into the fake TV show they were in. It worked really well for extra visualization.

A.Z. Fell Cooking (aka vlogger au) Series by MostWeakHamlets. Rated General Audiences, 35k words, Aziracrow. Summary: Aziraphale has a cooking show on the internet. It started out with three viewers, but now he's known as the happy grandfather that blew up overnight. Crowley occasionally makes cameos, has dedicated his garden to giving Aziraphale fresh herbs and vegetables, and struggles with living after the apocalypse. ___ “Taste this, my dear,” Aziraphale said. He held a spoonful of jam to Crowley’s lips with his free hand cautiously under it, ready to catch any dripping. Crowley leaned forward to wrap his lips around the spoon. Most likely his shyness came from the small tender moments Aziraphale was not afraid of showing the world. It had been the topic of many long conversations after Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand in St. James Park, causing Crowley to freeze and break out in a cold sweat. Being discreet had always been their top priority. For 6,000 years, someone would have surely seen them if they embraced in the middle of London. But now, Aziraphale had assured Crowley, things were different. They no longer needed to hide, but Aziraphale would go as slow as Crowley needed him to. It was almost funny how their roles had switched after the apocalypse. https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610359 Oh man I loved the first chapter of the second fic installment where it's written like we're voyeurs watching the heart-wrenching reality of Aziraphale caring for Crowley, who's super sickly and frail in the winter (is usually back to normal in the spring and summer). The amount of love and trust that goes into the relationship depicted in this fic is sooooooo This is mainly a South Downs curtain fic btw. It sounds like a social media AU thing, but the YouTube vlogging aspect is a side quest / cool awesome vehicle to give us some fantastic hurt/comfort

Honey, You’ll Survive by HotCrossPigeon. Teen+, 12k words, Aziracrow. Summary: Crowley only popped into the bookshop to say goodbye. He might not have been thinking straight, due to that bloody great big hole where his stomach used to be. Aziraphale, quite rightly, refuses to let the demon pop his clogs in his bookshop of all places, thank you very much. https://archiveofourown.org/works/20790638 Aziraphale saving a fatally hurt Crowley and being super straightforward about wanting cuddles was the best thing in the world. Crowley was written really well in this fic - doing his best to be snarky and sarcastic, anything but sincere and vulnerable (but he gets there. Oooo how I love that 🥰🥰🥰)

Untouched by Etaleah. Teen+, 3k words, Aziracrow. Summary: A demon's life is a lonely one. What Crowley wants is so simple, yet he can never have it. https://archiveofourown.org/works/20505689 Touch starvation. When Aziraphale finally hugs h Crowley and basically breaks him 😭 literally the best

Someone Reaching Back For Me by lorenzhellmangloucester. Teen+, 1k words, Aziracrow. Summary: Aziraphale tries to soothe, tries to rock him, completely unsure if he’s helping or not; he’s never seen Crowley lose control in quite this way. Sometimes Crowley lashes out in anger or hurt, and he’s seen him vulnerable before, but nothing like this. Nothing this fragmented, nothing this… shattered. It’s like watching Crowley break, this shivering, terrified creature clinging to him like he might disappear, and oh. Oh, Aziraphale thinks, feeling very small and fragile himself all of a sudden. In the immediate wake of the almost-apocalypse, Aziraphale realizes he's not the only one who was afraid of being left alone. https://archiveofourown.org/works/19241956 I really adored this - I love the concept of Crowley going snakey when he's upset & panicking, and especially that Aziraphale would just wrap him up in hugs and cuddles no matter how monstrous he's looking 🥰🥰🥰 I *love* it so much.

side effects by darcylindbergh. Explicit, 7k words, Aziracrow. You don’t have to do this, you know, Crowley said, somewhere around Aziraphale’s stomach. His hand was rough around the hem of Aziraphale’s jumper, tugging a little, like he was trying to convince himself to let go. I’m fine on my own. I know. Aziraphale touched carefully—he was learning how to touch, like this—searching out the place right above Crowley’s left eyebrow where the migraine lived, pressing on it. You don’t have to be, though. You can just consider me a side effect. https://archiveofourown.org/works/35166532 This was super emotional and so well written. The amount of hurt/comfort and nonsexual intimacy was amazing. There was a bit of sexual intimacy but it was... it was lovely. Definitely going to reread this one.

Recompense by Flywolf33. Mature, 21k words, Aziracrow. Summary: At first, he didn’t realize anything was wrong. They’d had a row, which wasn’t entirely unusual, and Crowley had stormed off with a few harsh words he didn’t mean flung over his shoulder. Aziraphale had flung a few of his own untruths, though he always knew they hurt the demon far more than either of them would admit. To his everlasting shame, Aziraphale didn’t start looking for another two years. By that time, the trail had gone cold and he couldn’t sense Crowley’s aura anywhere. In which Hell gets hold of Crowley and Aziraphale has to try to put Humpty Dumpty back together again - if Crowley will let him. This has nothing to do with my other GO stuff at all. This has been bouncing around in my head and I finally got it on paper. https://archiveofourown.org/works/21471934 Aziraphale barging into hell 50 years later to rescue Crowley. The slow burn of recovery and angst (the scene where Aziraphale says he'll let Crowley go forever if that's what he wants and needs to feel better and recover) and love. The device-pulsifiers family supporting them was so brilliant too. Fantastic fic.

#good omens fic recs #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #anthony j crowley #good omens #good omens fanfic #good omens fic #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #my fic recs #moonlight readings #fanfiction recommendations #fic recs

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agnesmontague · 1 year

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Buddy Daddies Joint Interview with Uchiyama Kouki and Toyonaga Toshiyuki [Extracts]

Link to interview

THIS IS NOT THE FULL INTERVIEW TRANSLATION!! I have only done some snippets that I found interesting, or shed some light on what's to come:

Looking back on Buddy Daddies now, what did you think of its first developments?

Toyonaga: From the hardboiled action sequence of the first episode, the second episode develops into more of a sitcom. This tone change really intrigued me, and I think everyone watching it went "What's gonna happen now?"

Uchiyama: It started with a scene where they're executing a mission as assassins, and this backdrop as well as the whole assassin conceit is a hook unique to this show. I thought there would be various types of drama unfolding from that, which would take up a part of the show; but as Toyonaga said, the sitcom elements became way more pronounced as the story unfolded, which left quite an impression on me.

How do you feel about Kazuki and Rei's buddy relationship?

Uchiyama: The story is predicated on the "buddy" thing, but since Miri joined the two so early, the real impression is more of a "trio", right. The two of them getting wrapped up in Miri's pace, really.

Toyonaga: Kazuki and Rei both have heavy baggage and trauma from their pasts, and didn't have a normal puberty or experiences regular children get to have while growing up. The story of the two of them pulled hither and thither by Miri is certainly new and strange for them but makes for easy drama, too. Often I found myself thinking "yeah, this is how it would go." In that way, the three of them have a delicate balance going on. And, speaking as the actor here, I'm playing [Kazuki] in quite an aggressive way, so I fear that Uchiyama is having a hard time of it.... Rei needs to be played as an opposite to Kazuki, so I'm always like "Sorry, Ucchi...." [laughs]

Uchiyama: No, no, it's not like that! [laughs] I actually had fun with Rei getting thrown around like that. There's a lot of variation in the story and each episode varies significantly in tone so even as a cast member I've quite enjoyed it behind the scenes too. From the POV of the viewer, it really seems they're being kept on the edge of their seat.

Buddy Daddies is entering its home stretch. What will be the highlights?

Toyonaga: In Episode 7, we saw the appearance of Karin, the sister of Kazuki's late wife, and in Episode 8, we met Rei's father...

Uchiyama: We saw a bit of each of their pasts.

Toyonaga: After that, in Episode 9, Rei and Kazuki's thoughts on Miri have finally lined up. However, from Episode 10 onwards, it becomes more clear that there are things they shouldn't overlook in favor of all this "affection". What will they actually do with Miri? A hitman named Ryo Ogino, who's been frequenting Kyu-chan (Kyutaro Kugi)'s shop, gets involved. In the real world of assassins, what will happen to Miri, a girl living a cheerful and wholesome life despite her pitiful circumstances? We're finally going to reach that point in the story.

So how would the story threads tie together in the end.... did you think.

Toyonaga: When I think of what will happen to Miri, there's still the matter of people who are related to her by blood. That relationship, I feel, is key.

Uchiyama: In that sense, the final few episodes do seem to take on a more serious bent. I do wonder what viewers will think of it, and I think even those hardcore plot elements are drawn out in the typical Buddy Daddies style. If this were an anime of a different tone, maybe those elements would have been narrated from another facet.

And as for the conclusion, did the two of you find it surprising at all?

Uchiyama: I really was wondering how they would end it, and I could not predict it at all until I read the final episode's script.

Toyonaga: But with an ending like this, you'd naturally end up thinking about what Director Asai wanted to say with this piece.

Uchiyama: Personally I was quite surprised.

Toyonaga: I really am curious how viewers will react to the ending. For example, even though it is an animation, some more realistic-minded viewers might be tempted to comment "In real life, it would go more like this..." To those people, I want to say... not "reality is stranger than fiction", necessarily, but "isn't this actually real life?" I think the ending really poses the question of whether you can accept it or not.

Uchiyama: In terms of the entire story, if I were only to think about the "pseudo-family" aspect of Kazuki, Rei, and Miri's relationship, it could actually get kind of dark. It was new for me as well, to see it portrayed this way through the medium of animation, and to be able to capture it from this angle.

Toyonaga: In any case, we think it would come as a surprise to viewers. Also, I hope you enjoy each episode to the end.

#buddy daddies #uchiyama kouki #toyonaga toshiyuki #cerise translates

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hyrtwynwrites · 3 months

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Yensday #1 - 31 January 2024

Hello, and welcome to the inaugural Yensday! This is the start of a (hopefully!) long-running tradition of doing Q&A and little tidbits about Light's Falle (abbreviated to LF for future use)!

<><><> Q&A <><><>

@purplenidoqueen asked:

I'm sorry if this is heavy, but there's one thing that's really been bothering me about FFXIV, and it's surely been Yenifer's problem. How does she contend with all the negative sentiment and microaggressions and bigotry against Ala Mhigan refugees? What keeps her working for the betterment of a society that largely does not want her?

(picture sent by purplenidoqueen)

I think, unavoidably, we have to mention how much FFXIV uses race as a set dressing before the question can be answered. A great deal of the bigotry portrayed in the game and its setting is never seriously confronted. Square Enix's primary use of it is to provide backdrops for conflict or "flavor" to the world, but at very few points is resolving these inequities seriously discussed by the MSQ. Gridania is the most sterling example of it, and remains set in stone throughout the story (excluding the laughable Stormblood Carpenters' questline where you solve racism with a tea table!). Race and racism aren't themes in FFXIV; they're things that occur to drive plots.

Yenifer's story is one about diaspora; she is the victim of several great and horrible crimes committed by powers beyond her individual ability to control. The exact scale of what was lost is not something she fully understands yet, and her own relationship to her people is something that will evolve and be tested. She is, and always will be, Ala Mhigan, and that is something defined onto her as much as she defines for herself.

Yen's response to what you mentioned is going to change over the course of LF as she comes into her own and gains new understandings, both about the star and about herself. At the beginning, Yen mostly has to bottle up her own feelings for survival, obscuring her fear and anger in order to gain any amount of forward momentum. The outbursts she has stems mostly from either her having a rare position of power (which is fragile and held aloft mostly because she has yet to seriously challenge the status quo), or from her losing her temper. In the latter case, she immediately realizes how dangerous letting these feelings out is, and beats a humiliated retreat for fear of being targeted for violence. She is not, and cannot be, comfortable.

At this stage, she isn't working for the betterment of these societies; her goal is, instead, to protect her people, who are the victims of those societies. Above all else, Yen is an Ala Mhigan, and her mission is ultimately that of liberation, though she doesn't think of it that way - at least, not during ARR. She is going to view much of the existential threats posed in the first volume through the lens of them ultimately threatening her own people. This isn't to say she is stone-hearted, of course. Individual suffering matters immensely to her, because she possesses, for lack of a better term, human decency. If things were phrased more in terms of "this will be good for Ul'dah," or "this would hurt Gridanian interests," she would be significantly more apathetic. That inaction would lead to suffering and death is what stirs her to throw herself into harm's way.

Beyond this early scope, and to truly answer your question: Yen weathers it because she knows she has to, and she presses back as hard as she can with as much authority and support she can muster. Her actions alone cannot break these systems of oppression, but her confrontations of them will lead to others following suit. I think it's farer to say that, rather than Yen acting to better these societies, the societies better themselves because of her. While she will repeatedly save Eorzea and its people from destruction, the only people she frees is her own. Eorzea - and the rest of the star - frees itself.

<><><> Tidbits & Errata <><><>

While Q&A is the focus of a Yensday, I'd be remiss not to toss something of my own out there. I'm not sure if calling it an offering is wise, but it is a little amusing.

Yen's primary adventuring outfit is based around the hyur starting gear, though with some amount of modification.

For one, she abstains from wearing the gloves that come with the outfit; this is mostly because I repeatedly forgot about them! During Gridanian Prelude's rewrite, I realized my error, and had to make a final decision, in the end opting against.

For two, the dagger that appears on the model also does not exist for Yen, initially for similar reasons (I have a bad habit of going off of memory and then needing to revisit and fix things during editing passes). However, the dagger does become a story element in White Towers, Deep Waters! In the end, it all came together rather nicely in a serendipitous kind of way.

I want to thank everyone for reading and for putting in questions! I really enjoyed having to throw all my thoughts in order, and hopefully the additional context that process created is useful and interesting to you all. Next week will be another Yensday, so feel free to start throwing questions in now!

Until then, may you ever walk in the light of the Crystal!

-H

#ffxiv #ffxiv fanfiction #light's falle #yenifer falle #yensday

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mediaevalmusereads · 6 months

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Hazardous Spirits. By Anbara Salam. Tin House, 2023.

Rating: 2.5/5 stars

Genre: historical fiction

Series: N/A

Summary: In 1920s Edinburgh, Scotland, Evelyn Hazard is a young, middle-class housewife living the life she’s always expected―until her husband Robert upends everything with a startling announcement: he can communicate with the dead.

As the couple is pulled into the spiritualist movement―an underground, occult society of ritual and magic that emerged following the mass deaths of the Spanish Flu and First World War―Evelyn’s carefully composed world begins to unravel. And when long-held secrets from her past threaten to come to the surface, presenting her with the prospect of losing all she holds dear, Evelyn finds herself unable to avoid the question: is the man she loves a fraud, a madman or―most frighteningly―is he telling the truth?

Cloaked in a moody, beguiling backdrop of twentieth-century Scotland, Anbara Salam’s Hazardous Spirits brings a sparkling sense of period detail and dry humor to the life of a young woman calibrating her place in a changing world, and her shifting relationship with a man she thought she knew.

***Full review below.***

Content Warnings: none?

Overview: This book appeared on a list of anticipated historical fiction books for 2023, so I figured I'd give it a go. I really enjoyed the premise of this book and I wondered what spiritualism in the 1920s might look like (since a lot of my familiarity is with 19th century spiritualism). Overall, though, I found this book to be a bit bland. It has a lot of fascinating potential, but with a grating protagonist and a plot that doesn't so much develop as it does meander, I can only give it 2.5 stars.

Writing: Salam's prose is genrally pretty good on a sentence and paragraph level. It flows easily and clearly describes the actions of the scene, and there are some moments when I was completely taken with the atmosphere.

However, I do think some things could be improved. For one, Salam tends to overuse certain phrases, such as "chewing her finger/lip" or "her stomach gurgled" when Evelyn is uneasy. It gave me the impression that Evelyn had digestive issues. For two, some of the transitions between present and flashback are a little abrupt and confusing. It might have helped if Salam changed tenses or something to signal we were entering the past.

Also (and this might be a nitpicky thing), I was a little disappointed that the setting didn't play more of a role. This book is set in the 1920s and Salam makes a point of bringing up both the Great War and the Spanish Flu epidemic, but personally, I didn't feel like either calamity was a kind of spectre hanging over the characters and influencing how they reacted to things. It's a shame, since that period is ripe for nuanced discussions of death and grief.

Plot: The plot of this book follows Evelyn Hazard, a 1920s housewife whose life is turned upside down when her husband, Robert, declares that he can communicate with the dead. As Robert becomes more and more involved in the spiritualist movement, Evelyn becomes more and more uneasy, torn between her fear that Robert might be participating in a scam or worse... that he might be telling the truth.

On paper, this plot seems like a great opportunity for exploring the uneasiness that comes with uncertainty. On top of that, Evelyn has something of a family secret - something about her dead sister, Dolly - that threatens to destroy her life, and I'm always a sucker for a well-to-do family with a dark past.

However, a lot of the suspense was killed (at least for me) because Evelyn's uncertainty doesn't quite create narrative tension until the last 50 pages or so. Until then, this book feels like a character study, which would have been great except we aren't necessarily shown the stakes of Evelyn's character arc or made to want what she wants. Part of the hurdle might be because Salam doesn't provide much backstory or context to her characters; without that orientation, I felt I was given little reason to care about whether or not Robert could actually commune with spirits or whether or not Evelyn advanced in society. There aren't any scenes that show us why Evelyn personally cares so much about other people's opinions, and there wasn't a reason for me to care whether or not people thought less of her for Robert's spiritualism. Spiritualism is supposedly taboo amongst "respectable" families, but Evelyn makes a lot of rich friends who are super into seances and the like. There might have been some evolution in her opinion of her friends and her desire for respectability again, but even so, that mainly comes in the last 100 pages. As a result, a lot of Evelyn's concerns about appearances and respectability come across as shallow, and we don't really grapple with that shallowness until the very end.

With such a vague sense of direction, I couldn't quite decide if this book was supposed to be some kind of 1920s disillusionment novel or a historical fiction book about grief and appearances. While some ambiguity and overlap regarding genre, message, and tone is ok, I felt like I struggled to discern what this book was trying to do and what kind of story it wanted to tell. It definitely wasn't spooky, which is fine, but it also didn't feel like it was delving too deeply into the nuances of grief, social class, or spiritualism. Salam does try to insert a more coherent theme in the last 50 pages or so, but the plot up until that point felt so loose that it was hard to see each scene as building up to a moment of (narrative) crisis.

Characters: Evelyn, our protagonist, was a bit irritating in that she didn't seem to have any strong motivations or desires. While she seems concerned about appearances to some degree, her concerns came across as shallow and we don't quite have the time to grapple with that shallowness. She also seems constantly distracted and thinks some rather rude thoughts about people, and when she does have strong emotions or is flustered, she reads more like a naive girl than a grown woman. As a result, it was hard for me to get a handle on her and figure out exactly what her arc was about. Salam doesntry to fit a theme in towards the end, perhaps about Evelyn standing up for her own desires, but I didnt feel like the rest of the book did a good job of supporting a character arc.

Robert, Evelyn's husband, was clearly a man who was eager to help others while also desperately wanting to keep Evelyn happy. While I wasn't really clear on the status of Robert and Evie's relationship (they never really felt like a loving couple), I do think Robert was shown to be someone who would jump at any chance to please his wife. But even so, it was hard to see Robert as multi-faceted because his mien was so golden retriever-like. Even when he got kind of snippy towards the end of the book, I felt like the change was abrupt and Salam could have shown Robert's pursuit of fame and attention through a more gradual change in demeanor.

Kitty, Evelyn's younger sister, was perhaps the most well-written character in that she served a clear purpose. She was constantly brushing off Robert's spiritualism and reassuring Evelyn of its harmlessness, all while offering support during rough patches in the narrative. Kitty's scenes also did a good job showcasing the tension between (and within) middle class families, so I felt like her scenes could have been used a lot more purposefully to create doubt or unease in contrast to the spiritualism.

Vikram and the rich crowd were kind of fun in an eccentric, decadent story of way, but it was admittedly hard to keep track of them all. Some of these side characters were written better than others; the best was certainly Flossie, who was a skeptic and formed a complex relationship with Evelyn.

My biggest problem with a lot of the side characters, though, is that a lot of them seemed like they could have had compelling arcs, but most of them just kind of fizzled out once the plot about the missing boy took center stage. Some of these minor character threads felt unfinished, but maybe that was intentional. I don't know.

TL;DR: Hazardous Spirits has a lot of potential to be a deeply compelling book about spiritualism and appearances in the 1920s, but is ultimately held back by an unclear narrative direction and an irritating protagonist. While I can see some of the themes Salam was trying to explore, I personally didn't feel like everything came together in a satisfying way, and I wish more work had been put into building up a stronger narrative.

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mattzerella-sticks · 2 years

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Most people loved the episode but the few that are complaining saying it was disappointing are making me laugh? You realize this is a tv show and a good one at that. They're telling a story and it needs to be coherent, it needs to make sense for the plot and the characters and their journeys and relationships because these people know what they're doing. They're not just gonna stop and give us an hour long orgy for no reason, especially one that has rape and assault up the whazoo just for the hell of it. The times they had sexual assault on this show so far was for a purpose and to say something. The episode had some many great things, great acting from so many people, fantastic action, wonderful emotional beats, MM ??? Annie being one with everyone's shit including Hughie. The parallels between soldier boy Homelander butcher and Hughie who are all different shades of horrible people leaving so much damage in their wake and always trying to justify it. That moment of soldier boy saying he blacked out and he didn't mean to hurt those people to Hughie and then later Butcher and Hughie having a hand in the death of so many people "I'm not the bad guy" is basically their thesis. This season has been phenomenal and I truly have no idea where they're going with any of it. If they land the two finale episodes this is gonna be such a good season to rewatch bc they pack so much into these episodes and they're spaced out watching it all together the narrative threads and character arcs are gonna mean so much more.

Agree with everything but, just to speak on behalf of the first point, while a lot of what went on at Herogasm was wild I also didn't think it lived to the level of hype they were teasing (except for The Deep, but I wasn't surprised since we basically had Checkhov's Octopus with him lol). But that can also be how much I and other people have been desensitized to a lot of crazy shit due to toxic exposure to the Internet.

And I don't fault people who want to see actors they find attractive engaging in stuff like that because you want to see that, but I agree it wouldn't have served the story if Soldier Boy just stopped to have gay sex before confronting the TNT twins. No matter how much I wanted to see that.

Which is also why I think Frenchie had to be removed from the Herogasm plot line because he would have brought the focus back on the sex, instead of have it be a backdrop which is what was intended.

But, again, I think this ties back into how the episode was advertised. So much emphasis was put on Herogasm except it wasn't about Herogasm, it just happened to be happening at the same time they needed to find Tammy and Tommy.

Sort of like how they overemphasized the musical episode of the Boys last week, when in reality it was one sequence. That pissed me off more.

#the boys #the boys s3 #herogasm

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itstimetowritecl · 2 years

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The Poppy War: A Well-Contrasted Story of the Impersonal versus Personal

“War doesn’t determine who’s right. War determines who remains.”

I want to start this post by saying how much I love ‘The Poppy War.’ RF Kuang not only wrote arguably the best fantasy book in 2018 but also how to effectively capture the strife and implications of real-life warfare and how its impersonal nature will always entail some level of personal implications.

The Poppy War is based upon the Second Sino-Japanese war, which was a one of the most bloody and costly wars within Chinese history. Kuang did not shy away from addressing the Rape of Nanjing, opium and drug use, as well as the ruthless consequences that come from war.

Her work is also a masterclass on using Narrative Contrasts, where one employs directly opposing narrative decisions/strategies to establish strong character building while increasing reader investment.

Where Kuang really shines is in her contrast of personal prose versus impersonal action. The juxtaposition of such heartfelt and engaging prose against a very grimdark and downright uncomfortable at times plot really shows the power of narrative and authorial intent. That is, the use of a character’s inner thoughts, can be powerful in the right hands. And in this case, you are in good hands with Kuang. By using narrative monologues that show Rin’s most inner thoughts such as “No—they couldn’t just do this to her...but she didn’t have to lie down and take it. She had come from nothing. She wasn’t going back to nothing,” really speaks to the vulnerability many feel when it comes to failure, and the worries we will fall back to square one. We too, like Rin, may have to keep fighting failure and the fear it drives until we succeed. I also want to call out “Everywhere she traveled, everywhere she escaped to, she was just a war orphan who was not supposed to be there. She felt so terribly alone,” because while most of are not war orphans, the feeling of otherness and the loneliness it brings is something many of us will face at some point and adds layers of complexity to Rin’s character. These personal anecdotes also serve a purpose of humanizing Rin and understanding her actions, whether right or wrong, stem from a need of self-preservation from a world often rejecting her very existence.

Secondly, there is also a thematic character development contrast of ‘Likable-Unlikable Protagonist’ that Kuang is able to effectively execute with Rin, the book’s main character. She faces an existence deemed inferior due to her skin tone, gender, and socioeconomic status, and is reminded of this throughout the book; this makes her struggle quite sympathetic and during the Sinegary military academy chapters, you can’t help but root for her. And yet, Rin engages in what one would consider to be morally questionable actions, ranging from stealing opium to committing genocide against the Mugenese, With the combination of Kuang’s personal narrative and unsettling backdrop, Rin comes across as humanized and in some aspects relatable. It makes you wonder that if you were Rin, would you make the same choices. The character development is also gradual, so while you may not agree with Rin’s decisions, they are understandable. Kuang does this by first shifting thoughts at the beginning of the War when unable to control her powers (wanting the Mugenese general to suffer), to gradually taking action in warface (becoming more ruthless as the War goes on in response to her people’s plight), and choosing her path (committing genocide against the Mugenese in revenge).

Finally, her work also is a solid example of allowing female characters to challenge what is the ‘archetype acceptability paradox.’ This paradox is where the more embedded into societal norms a character is, the greater you can expand their narrative to challenge such ideals without compromising strong character development. Rin’s development in Poppy War is not dictated by romantic relationships nor the male gaze, in fact, her decision to eschew an arranged marriage is the catalyst for her entry into the military academy and escape the abusive environment that her society deems ‘ideal.’ Her solution to painful periods getting the way of her studies? Getting rid of her uterus. While it could be perceived as anti-feminist given the graphic nature, I find it can also can serve as symbolically rejecting the societal notion that woman were to remain home and raise children; she made the choice to remove her uterus, and a choice to reject society’s imposed childbirth role. Rin is shown to go out of her way to challenge what women were thought capable of, and is viewed as the more ruthless one compared to her commander, Altan. In addition, the contrast of her upbringing versus what she must become sets a needed example that women do not have to shy away from facing the darkness male leads must face in warfare. And woman, if they choose, should be allowed to succumb to a darkness often blockaded from access within literature.

#the poppy war #writing analysis: using contrasts in character development #rf kuang #fantasy books #book review

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scandalsavagefanfic · 3 years

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Hello! I am a huge fan of ur writing. I've loved everything I've read of yours. I've read alot of what you've posted, except for a couple of the tags that are squicky for me (so I'm very thankful you tag very thoroughly). No judgement for the squick, it's just not for me. & when I'm having a bad day, I usually just go thru ur ao3 and find something to reread. I think about Therapy's Bruce & Jason every damn day. While I obvs appreciate ur darker more "problematic" content (I really vibe with some of the themes you write about bc of my own trauma, & so it's very cathartic to read about in a fictional setting), I am truly a sucker for ur more happy content. The Happily Ever After verse also lives in my head rent free. Idk more wholesome stuff just seems more special when you write it. Anyways. I would die for you. But the point of this ask is cause I'm curious as to why you don't like Urban Legends? I'm sorry if you already talked about it here or on twitter and I missed it. I was just wondering because I really enjoy your take on things and would love to hear why you dislike it. I've been enjoying it so far personally, but I am always open to DC comics criticism.

Aw thank you so much! I'm so flattered by everything you just said. You're so sweet ❤❤❤❤❤

I haven't talked about Urban Legends here or twitter (I haven't been very active in either place lately. Just a lot going on and no energy 😔) but I'm happy to do it here.

Before I start though, I just want to add a standard disclaimer and make it clear that if you like it, there's nothing wrong with that and you don't have to let me ruin it for you lol. Like what you like.

That said, since you asked...

I said this when I was talking about it on discord, that there is a difference between hope and expectation. I always hope that a new story centered on Jason (or anyone really, but things have been especially egregious for Jay for 15 years) will be good or at least treat the character with a minimal level of respect (to be honest, the bar is super fucking low). But my expectations always temper my hope, to keep it from getting unrealistic. Because my expectations are based on experience.

The long history of Jason Todd, since even before his resurrection, has been one of retroactively trying to make him "a bad seed" in order to absolve Bruce of any responsibility in his death.

I don't even expect DC or their writers to start honoring the fact that Jason was not an angry, reckless Robin (and less of the later than Dick or Tim and definitely Damian). There plenty of ways that retcon can be folded into his history and be compelling and sympathetic. And if they're going to stick with that retcon, I'm only asking that they do it in one of those compelling and sympathetic ways because Jason was 15 when he died, heroically, in one of the most selfless acts in comics, to save a woman who literally handed him over to be brutally murdered. He was 12 when Bruce plucked him off the streets, he'd been homeless and fending for himself for at least two years. I personally think that Jason's story hits harder for him and Bruce if their original, canon relationship, of Jason as starry-eyed and eager to learn and absolutely devoted to Bruce and Bruce to Jason, is preserved. But Jason's origins does leave room for a meaningful interpretation of him as angry and frustrated at the lack of meaningful results of Bruce's methods.

And that's really where my irritation at stories like Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer and Batman The Adventure Continues has it's roots.

Every time one of these stories comes out, I think (or hope, rather) that this will be the one that remembers and respects the origins of the Jason and the Red Hood, that takes into account the changed sensibilities of comics readers in the 30 years since Jason's death and the subtle, 20 year, retroactive campaign to make him the "bad Robin". The "born bad" trope is played out and literally no one likes the message it implies. That some kids are just bad eggs and there's nothing parents or the adults around them can do. Especially when it's played as the kid's fault. If Jason's time as Robin is going to be characterized by anger, then it should be rooted in anger at the social injustices he witnessed as he grew up in an impoverished, crime-ridden, area and the horrors he faced raising himself when every day was a battle for survival. There are topical, meaningful, stories to tell with that backdrop.

But those are never the stories we get.

⚠⚠ Spoilers for Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer ⚠⚠

I'm particularly disappointed in Urban Legends because for the first issue, it looked like that was the kind of story we were going to get. I was put off by the first flashback of Jason being mesmerized by Bruce's guns, and I got that feeling in my gut that it was a bad sign. Jason depicted as impatient and overconfident and the scene with the guns is heavy-handed foreshadowing that got my spidey-sense tingling. I had a inkling then (in the first three pages) of how this story was going to play out, but it was early and I could still see many narrative paths that could lead to a satisfying story. My concerns were soothed somewhat and the little flame of my hope fanned, with the flashback of Alfred scolding Bruce, with Barbara's concern for Jason. A bit of worry returned with the way Jason ruthlessly pursued an addict who didn't appear to be a dealer and with the ending of the issue. The stuff with the addict sat wrong with me but the ending was tempered some by how despicable Tyler's dad was written. The scene was clearly set so that the reader could sympathize with Jason's decision and the scene with the addict could be brushed aside as a side-effect of comics over-the-top need for constant action, so I still held hope.

Issue 2 made me uncomfortable and it's where my hope starts to take a backseat to my expectations. I can dismiss Jason's self-deprecating internal monologue as unreliable narration, except that the flashback reinforces his thought process to explicitly show that it's not unreliable narration, and should be taken at face value. Jason faces physical abuse at the hands of his mother's drug dealer and when the flashback continues later, Jason kills the drug dealer. To be clear, this is a pre-Bruce Jason. His mom is still alive. He's like... 10. He kills this guy for shoving his head into a wall and implying Jason's mother paid for her drugs with sex. This is a scene that serves a single purpose. To show that Jason has always been prone to violence.

In the spirit of full disclosure, there is the small chance the drug dealer might not be dead. But the story obviously wants the reader to think he is, and it hasn't done anything to change that yet.

Starlin already did this story with The Diplomat’s Son in 1988 and he did it infinitely better. AND that’s still technically canon. So now I’m supposed to believe that Jason lost his cool bad enough to kill two douche bags before his sweet 16? Like it’s totally normal for abused kids raised in poverty, who’ve led hard and heartbreaking lives to just... haul off and kill people? That’s bullshit, and when taken with the Jason in the third issue, who is little more than an idiot thug, this story is really doubling down on some fucked up stereotypes.

Which brings us to the most recent issue. I went into this installment with very low expectations. I thought this story was going to be about Jason, through this experience with Tyler, a young boy with a similar background to Jason's, coming to the realization that Bruce's way is the best way and that Bruce did his best by Jason.

That would be annoying (in no small part because it takes increasingly absurd levels of plot armor to keep Bruce's no kill rule relevant, let alone irrefutably right). But I can probably live with that, if only because maybe if Jason officially falls back into line with the Bats crusade, maybe I'll get stories that treat him with respect, stories that don't relegate him to comic relief, dumb brute, or a background body with no lines in a story about the Joker burning Gotham (like Jason would just fucking stand there quietly for that).

And that may still be where the story is going, Jason realizing Bruce is right.

But holy shit do I not have the right words to describe how fucking insulting and gross issue three is.

From start to finish--including the flashback--Jason is written as cruel and fucking stupid. Like straight up dumb.

The entire issue is Bruce explaining the fucking basics to Jason like it's his first day. And Jason flies off the fucking handle and terrorizes a doctor he knows isn't a part of making the Cheerdrops, beats the shit out of some random addicts, and finally, when he can't accomplish anything on his own because he's a dumb brute he calls Barbara for help and rushes in with no information where he's promptly incapacitated and must now wait to be rescued by Batman.

This panel is the least of the issues sins but I can’t screenshot the entire story but it’s representative of the tone for the whole issue (and retroactively tainted the prior two issues).

This is beyond insulting. The only conclusions Jason comes to in this issue are the ones Bruce leads him to by talking to him like he can’t make the simplest connections. And like... in this story Jason can’t make the simplest connections.

This (and the Jason throughout the entirety of this issue) is a far cry from the Jason we fell in love with in Under the Red Hood, who was competent and strategic and intelligent enough to seize control of Gotham’s underworld from Black Mask (who’s no fucking slouch, he’s the first and only person to unify organized crime in Gotham) AND elude and manipulate Bruce until the time and place of his choosing.

This is a far cry from even the Red Hood and the Outlaws Jason who is competent enough to fight the League of Shadows and Ra’s al Ghul (among very dangerous and skilled others) and smart enough to create antidotes for mind control nanotech viruses.

As he should be, by the way. Jason Todd is one of the best, most comprehensively trained fighters in DC’s stable of non powered vigilantes. He’s not irrational or hot headed. He’s pragmatic, tactically minded, and patient. He’s a detective. Right now. Has been since he was 12. Bruce doesn’t have to make him one because he already is.

Jason is not a stupid thug who uses his fists because his brain doesn’t work. And I can’t tell you how so very exhausted I am by this narrative.

This is actually the most egregious example of Jason’s skills and intelligence being not just undermined but dismissed entirely. Even Morrison’s Jason had some degree of competency.

The one, single redeeming factor of this story is the art. It’s beautiful. And Marcus To is a godsend he seems to be one of only a couple of artists who remember that Jason was a child when he was Robin and I’m literally only buying this book because of him.

Anyway, I’m sorry. I didn’t want that to come out so... um... passionately lol. I’m just very very tired. My intention with this isn’t to ruin it for you, if you like it, that’s fine.

But this issue shot this story to the top of my "Vehemently Despise” list. 1) Batman: Urban Legends (Cheer), 2) Battle for the Cowl/Morrison’s Batman and Robin, 3) Batman The Adventure Continues.

I hope the next issues somehow salvage this dumpster fire. But I’m not expecting it.

(Damnit. That sounded harsh again. To reiterate, I’m not trying to judge anyone who enjoys it, I just personally hate it and you asked me why lol 😅)

#Batman #red hood #batman: urban legends #nice art #shit story #or at least shit characterization #jason todd deserves better #this response got long and I didn't edit it #please forgive any errors #and/or unclear spots #spoilers

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yurimother · 4 years

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LGBTQ Visual Novel Review - OshiRabu: Waifus Over Husbandos

If you are at all interested in Yuri or visual novels, you will have undoubtedly heard of OshiRabu: Waifus Over Husbandos. The Yuri rom-com was one of Steam’s top 20 February releases, and it hit the trending page on the platform. These accomplishments are incredible, and it is lovely to see both a visual novel and a Yuri game get so much love and recognition. However, whenever a title succeeds and manages to make an impact outside of the Yuri community, it always brings up a few questions. Mainly, does it deserve to be one of the few Yuri titles to obtain “mainstream success” and is it a positive ambassador for the genre, one which can further Yuri’s popularity and pull new consumers into it? These concerns boil down to one question, is it good? Usually, this inquiry is pretty quickly answered, with most elements of a product either being positive or negative. However, OshiRabu delivers more of a challenge. There are some fantastic parts to this game which I applaud and gush over, yet there are also several problems, both major and minor. The dichotomy between OshiRabu’s highs and lows is possibly the strongest I have ever seen in a Yuri title.

OshiRabu: Waifus Over Husbandos is the debut game of SukeraSomero, the new sister brand of the excellent Yuri studio, SukeraSparo. The plot follows Akuru Hayahoshi, an otaku with an obsession with her “husbandos” from gacha games and seriously bad luck. One day she bumps into a cute and bubbly student, Ren Furutachi. After Ren shows off her uncanny good luck to Akuru, a miscommunication sees Ren believing that Akuru confesses to her. For Ren, it is love at first sight, and she persistently negotiates her way into living with the older woman.

The rest of the game flits between comedic moments as Akuru and Ren live together. Examples include the girls shopping for a new bed, since Ren insists on sleeping next to Akuru, and Akuru creating boys’ love doujinshi with her friend Shino. There is, of course, a climax, which will not be spoiled in this review, and three possible endings, depending on two-player choices. An optional 18+ DLC expands on one of the endings and offers several explicit scenes.

There are some enjoyable aspects of this plot. For one, it is light and pleasant, never letting itself settle too much or grow stale. The situations are not hilarious but enjoyable and well suited to the with the characters’ personalities, and establishing several recurring themes and jokes, such as Shino teasing Ren and Ren accusing Akuru of cheating. There is an excessive amount of adorable fluff, which matches well with the overall tone of the game. These delightful moments cater to a variety of interests and fixations, so every reader is likely to find something they like. My personal favorite was a brief imagination sequence where Ren and Akuru have a child together, cute Yuri stories about women raising a kid are one of my weaknesses, and the reason Voltage’s Lovestruck has stolen hundreds of dollars from me.

The writing is also fantastic. The descriptive prose makes me laugh at the poor quality English translations we had a decade ago, and sometimes still unfortunately get. SukeraSomero deserves a great deal of praise for the simultaneous English, Japanese, and Chinese release. It is amazing that everyone got to experience this game together all over the world, without having to wait years for a possible license and translation. English translator Meru is one of the best in the business, and her work shines here. Her adaptation is amazing and fits the games’ modern setting and feel. I personally do not care for the amount of internet culture language included, such as Ren calling Akuru a “thot,” simply because such terminology tends to become dated quickly. However, I will defend the creative choices as accurate to Oguri Aya’s original story.

There is one more major compliment I have to give this game, and it is a big one. OshiRabu is extremely queer. While most Yuri titles exist as lesbian or lesbian adjacent content with little construction of LGBTQ identity, for example naming, displaying meaningful sexual and romantic relationships, or showing any aspect of queer culture, OshiRabu does all of these. I was floored when, early on in the story, Ren confesses to Akuru that she is a “lesbian.” The word lesbian is actually used directly in the visual novel, an unfortunate rarity for the Yuri genre. I even swapped the game into the original Japanese to confirm, and there again was the coming-out moment; the word “lesbian,” in all its glory, was planted right on the screen. This fantastic scene was not a one-off occurrence either.

Throughout OshiRabu, Ren continuously mentioned her homosexuality, which is usually juxtaposed by Akuru pondering her own sexuality, which she defines as an attraction to 2D men and nothing else. Although, her identity obviously changes because you know the women must end up together by the end. Some other excellent scenes feature queer representation. For example, at one point in the game, Akuru goes to a gay bookstore where another woman approaches her. When trying to explain that she is not interested, Akuru almost exclaims, “I’m normal,” a sentiment which she quickly realizes is hurtful and prejudice with some spectacular self-reflected narration. Moments like these offer nuanced and thoughtful presentations of LGBT culture and are the definite highlight of the game.

Sadly, not every aspect of the visual novel is as fantastic as these. In fact, many parts of it range from unfortunate to downright atrocious. First, the characters, while not awful or unlikeable, have some harmful qualities to them. Akuru is distant and introverted, which often leads to her being cold or even rude to Ren, which is never confronted or resolved. On her part, Ren is sadly the stereotypical aggressive lesbian, and frequently invades Akuru’s personal space, a topic which is again never reconciled. It is fine to have a character make problematic choices, but when their actions do not have consequences and conflicts have no resolution, it is a significant issue. The only character I unequivocally enjoyed was Shino, as she spends the whole game humorously teasing the two.

Speaking of conflicts, the final dramatic twist comes about as a result of Ren running away and refusing to communicate with Akuru. It turns out, minor spoilers, that she was testing her, which is a pathetic and ridiculous action which in real life can and should have serious repercussions or even end the partnership. Additionally, the topic of Akuru’s shared affection for Ren and her virtual husbandos, which is an immense source of stress for Ren, is not addressed in the base game, only the DLC. The extra content has its own set of problems too.

It is not uncommon for visual novels to include adult content in a separate patch so they can sell the base game on Steam. However, such adult patches are usually free, and OshiRabu’s is not, instead it sells for $4.99. This price is on top of the $24.99 base game, which means you are shelling out 30 dollars for the complete experience. An experience which, mind you. only clocks in at about 3 hours, hardly what I would call a value. It is an additional shame because the adult content is really well done. All the 18+ scenes, except for maybe the brief first one, showcase a tender loving relationship and skillfully written erotic content, although one or two metaphors did not land very well. However, not every player will want the 18+ content, and OshiRabu essentially forces them to play through it if they are going to see all the base game’s conflicts resolved.

There is also an unfortunate amount of service. While most of OshiRabu’s service is just sweet and cute moments between the characters, there is plenty of exploitative artwork designed to cater to specific players of a more perverted persuasion. Ren is usually the subject of such content, with shots featuring her panties and one extremely revealing cosplay outfit consisting of little more than two strips of cloth. Obviously, some players will enjoy these aspects of the game, but they did not work well for me, especially when I compared such clumsy service with the robust adult content.

However, this exploitative artwork, along with the rest of the game’s art, is phenomenally well crafted. Artist and character designer DSmile creates detailed and colorful illustrations that match the light comedic tone of the game. The adorable and vibrant artwork, drawn in a light watercolor style, makes my heart sing! There are also plenty of CG pieces, over 20, including the DLC, which adds six more. Given the games short length, this means you will see a new CG every ten minutes or so. The UI is also incredibly clean, easy to navigate, and blends well with the aesthetics of the art. My only complaint visually is that the sprites are entirely static. Except for different facial expressions and a few outfit changes, they are always the exact same, standing like flat mannequins against a backdrop. There is no animation or even alternative poses for them.

The voice acting is similarly high quality. Voice actors Nekomura Yuki, Kitaooji Yuki, and Waou Kirika all give fantastic performances in Japanese, and the quality of the recordings is consistently amazing. Even the adult scenes are voiced and showcase the range of talent present. The music is not nearly as good, but it does not intrude either. There are enough tracks to prevent the music from getting too dull, although the central theme and one of the tracks, “Let’s Go Out!” push this boundary a little far. Unfortunately, none of them are too memorable either, and I can guarantee that I will never be touching the BGM tab of the extras menu.

OshiRabu: Waifus Over Husbandos is a highly polished and visually impressive experience. The visual novel contains incredible artwork and is well constructed, showing the promise and talent of SukeraSparo. The stellar, although unfortunately necessary, adult DLC, and inclusion of LGBT themes are superb aspects that could have made playing this game a blast. However, a poorly constructed story, weak characters, and a high price tag compared to the amount of content offered severely detract from the game’s success. If you do not mind excessive service or are interested in lots of cute Yuri moments, pick this one up when it goes on sale.

Ratings: Story – 5 (6 with DLC) Characters – 4 Art – 9 Voice – 10 Music – 5 LGBTQ – 10 Sexual Content – 5 (9 with DLC) Final – 5

The visual novel is available on Steam and MangaGamer

#yuri #reviews #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtq+#queer #gay #lesbian #visual novel #oshirabu #oshirabu: waifus over husbandos #girls love #gl #wlw #video games #gaming #game

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july-19th-club · 4 years

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long post about telling queer stories with intent, and how that matters far more than anything else when it comes to telling them: the act of deliberately showing it and then NOT WALKING IT BACK, and how the difference really shows in comparison and some examples chosen arbitrarily based on what i was thinking about when i was lying in bed this morning writing metacommentary in my head instead of getting up and doing the dishes (and now i am up and writing metacommentary at my computer instead of doing the dishes)

good omens (NOT telling a queer story at all, author capitalizes on popular fanon when it’s convenient for him to do so; all the queerness is audience-driven. i include it here mostly because there was a big debate after the show first came out about how much of the *queercoding* (air quotes) was real or not. answer: probably not most of it, but thems the breaks *shrugs in neil g*iman*. i like the book and i like the characters and the show was fun. nonetheless, gomens is here because it’s the absolute baseline of ugh seriously and i wanted to establish that there’s a difference between baiting and wishful thinking.)

magicians (baiting in its purest, most obnoxious form - writers suggest and then enjoy the recognition from suggesting that they are going to do something unusual and exciting: take a main character who has a mostly straight romantic history and giving them a major romantic arc with a fan-favorite character of the same sex...and then walking it back, killing one of them, and calling it a day. the surviving member of the pairing is given a shoehorned-in love interest at the last minute, although by then the irritation of a disappointed audience and a general decline in writing quality meant that almost nobody cared. the only other queer arc given any focus is a semi-villainous side character (a lesbian, imagine that) whose girlfriend, then fiance, is never actually seen. most egregiously, the killing off of the main character was hidden from the rest of the cast until the episode aired, including the actor who played his love interest, himself a queer artist. i can only imagine the outrage i would feel if i believed i was participating in making valuable gay art only to realize i had been lied to.)

black sails (MANY thoughts head full this is a show chock full of queer relationships. flint/hamilton, max/anne, max/eleanor, and several others are major, plot-reliant relationships that take up a large part of the show and are both explicitly and implicitly sexual as well as romantic. rarely have i been so lucky as to enjoy a wealth of queer writing and a strong historical drama with anti-authoritarian leanings and a backing philosophy that holds up under its own weight in the same production. sails was written with intent, acted with intent by people who were well-dialed in to their character’s motivations and emotions, and has room in it as well for things like the relationship between silver and flint - a subtextually romantic relationship deliberately written to acknowledge two complex characters between whom there is something and who cannot, for various textually-supported reasons, reconcile that something enough to act on it as the other queer pairings in the show act on it. the latest interviews with show writer steinberg discuss the intent behind the relationship writing and show a creative team deeply aware of how to tell a queer story fairly. as always, i’ve never been more impressed with television then when i’ve been watching sails.)

the untamed (like the magicians, this is a life-action adaptation of a novel, and like sails, it is a story written and acted with intent. its creative team has one aim: telling a slowburn romantic relationship between two men against a backdrop of high-fantasy conflict and intrigue. the difference is that untamed was made in an industry where queer content is heavily censored, and the challenge for the writers and actors here was to show the relationship clearly without being allowed things like kissing, sex scenes, or verbal declarations of romantic love *note: there are some verbal declarations - the term ‘the one who knows me’ has been variously translated as ‘confidant,’ ‘lifelong companion,’ and ‘soulmate,’ and is used between the main characters to describe what they are to each other. here’s a post on the historical/political linguistics of it.* the writer of the novel, who published online anonymously so as to skirt censoring, was able to include more explicit scenes. in the live-action adaptation, they get by instead on held gazes, significant musical choices (ex. their romantic theme, composed in-story by one of the characters as a gift for the other and played by both of them thereafter), and, when they can get away with it, dialogue that indicates what’s happening and some hand-holding.)

within these restrictions, the last show listed here still manage to craft a story that leaves the audience in no doubt as to its intent: two characters are in romantic love, and they end the story together, as a couple. and i included it because i want to make a point: if a show like this, censored as it is, can still manage to deliberately produce a satisfying, fully realized queer love story, then shows like the magicians? operating under no such constraints? written by people whose livelihoods would not be in danger by writing uncensored queer fiction? have no excuse whatsoever to do it poorly, or to do it vaguely, or to do it and then walk it back.

what would the world be like if everyone had the privilege to make queer art without restriction or harm? what would the world be like if no one who had that privilege ever used it to bait an audience, or take credit for audience interpretations without putting in the work, or to write without intent?

#woke up mad about the magicians for some reason #and then i started thinking abt black sails again #and then it just spiralled out i dont even know #i am just avoiding doing dishes and classwork is what's happening #and i STILL havent heard back from the agent i emailed last week wanting to know if they were actually interested in my shit #like. its been ten weeks i can email to check up on it. and they havent emailed back so maybe i shouldn't have tried to email them?#maybe that was inappropriate????#maybe i used the wrong email address?#anyway not the point of this post except that im a queer writer and not receiving an email is homophobia #the magicians #the untamed #black sails

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scxrlettwxtches · 5 years

Text

worn out jackets pt.2 | hwang hyunjin

Genre: badboy!hyunjin x class president!reader, fluff, angst

Warnings: violence!

Word Count: +10.0k

Description: Hwang Hyunjin and you were now what were considered to be very good friends, but that doesn’t mean your relationship was a smooth sailing as the two of you wanted. The fact that you’re head over heels in love with him also doesn’t help that much.

Author’s Note: hahahaha remember when i said this would be posted in like a week? i lied. im so so sorry this took literally a month to write and im still not totally satisfied with it, but i really hope everyone enjoys it!! as always, my ask box is open to rants and comments about my writing, since there are little plot lines that i didn’t have time to fit in. :)

Part 1

After that incident with his parents, Hwang Hyunjin walked you home. Whether he was trying to be a gentleman or just paying back the favor of you comforting him, you couldn’t tell. He didn’t say anything during the whole journey, but you appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

It seemed your mother had stopped by the house that day, since the spare key was back where it was supposed to be: under the door mat. Hyunjin stood behind you silently as you opened the door, but it was a comfortable silence, not like the suffocating aura from before.

“Thanks for walking me home, Hyunjin,” you said softly, bowing politely. Hyunjin’s posture looked relaxed as he smiled gently, waving off your thanks. You waited for a second to see if he would say more, but he didn’t.

You shut the door, threw your backpack on the couch, and were well on the way to taking a nice long nap when you heard Hyunjin call out your name.

“Hey, Y/N?” Startled, you moved back to the entrance, your hand on the doorknob when Hyunjin spoke again, “D-don’t open the door.”

Frowning, you obeyed and waited for whatever he was going to do or say.

“I’m too much of a coward to say it to your face,” his voice was muffled by the object between the two of you, “but from the bottom of my heart, thank you for everything that you do for me.”

By the time you had snapped yourself out of whatever trance you had fallen in (because The Hwang Hyunjin was thanking you what the fuck—) and flung open the door, the boy was already gone. With the street empty and gloomy, it was almost as if he was never there to begin with.

ii.

From that point on, the rest of the detentions with Hyunjin were actually quite pleasant experiences, if you had to admit. Despite still being infamously late to every one of his classes, he always seemed to arrive to the detention classroom before you did. He’d walk over to snatch a large stack of papers from your bag, and the two of you would work silently for the hour and a half. You never asked him to help you, but you couldn’t say no to the possibility of getting yourself some decent shut eye when you got home.

Neither of you said much during these detentions, though Hyunjin would occasionally walk over and tease you about how strict you were with your grading. In return, you’d chastise him for giving Minho passing grades when it was clear that he had failed, but would flunk Jisung just because (“he drank the rest of my apple juice without asking!”).

Just like that, Hyunjin’s week of detention ended, and so did your reason to spend time with him.

You couldn’t help but be a little disappointed about this. In a week, Hyunjin had broken past the tall, unyielding walls of your heart, and it scared you that he now had the most ideal opportunity to just walk out of your life, never to come back.

However, to your relief (and delight), Hyunjin stayed.

It wasn’t a dramatic change, at least not at school. Both of you still lived in completely different universes that never crossed, but it came in the form of a fresh bento box in your locker that you definitely didn’t make, or half of your work being magically graded and slipped into your backpack during lunch break. You weren’t sure how Hyunjin managed to figure out your locker combination to sneak in your lunch or steal some of your teacher’s paperwork, but you knew it was him.

Because of this, you decided to show that you were there for him too. Yours came in the form of class notes that you would slip in his bag when he wasn’t in the room, or the secret pieces of paper you’d slip in his locker to warn him about which teacher was close to giving him detention. True to your word, you had removed his detention from the school system (and maybe even a couple more).

It wasn’t the ideal friendship you wanted to have with him, but it was comforting to know that someone was watching over you.

Once out of school, however, Hyunjin was a totally different person, clinging to you like a koala to their favorite tree (you were the tree, sadly). After the detention week, he had never once failed to walk you home, always making sure you were safely inside before leaving.

Now, three months later, he was still waiting for you outside the school like he was every other day, hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket, eyes closed as he was lost in whatever music he was listening to through his earphones. With the winter sunset as a backdrop and the relaxed expression on his face, Hyunjin seriously looked even more handsome than normally did, and you didn’t even know how that was possible.

Pushing down your embarrassing thoughts, you quietly walked up to him and kicked his shin lightly. You honestly didn’t know how the “bad boy” Hyunjin persona was so ingrained in the school population when he would literally lose his shit if someone so much as tapped his shoulder without him knowing they were there.

“Y/N, what the fuck,” he groaned, bending down to rub his leg dramatically, “I wait for you until six o’clock to walk you home, and this is how you repay me?”

You raised your eyebrows in amusement, “Didn’t you say you had to model for the photography club after school, and that’s why it was only ‘convenient’ that we went home at the same time?”

Hyunjin blushed, “Yeah, of course. That’s what I meant, dummy,” he said defensively, and you wondered if he knew how adorable he looked with his cheeks puffed out in a frown.

“You’re the dummy,” flicking his forehead as he was still crouched down, you began walking to the school exit, “Photography club doesn’t even meet today.”

Imagining Hyunjin’s face with glee, you kept walking, knowing that the athletics god would catch up to you in no time. Whenever your Class President duties caused you to stay after school, Hyunjin always found a stupid excuse to stay after as well. To say they were stupid was an understatement, since he had reused the same one multiple times and had even once mentioned joining a club that didn’t even exist anymore. But you guess it was kinda cute, seeing how determined he was to walk with you even when it meant cutting into his personal time.

Hyunjin caught up to you with a brisk walk (which shows just how fast he was and how athletically incompetent you were), huffing. His cheeks still had a dash of pink on them as he complained, “Could you stop embarrassing me like that?”

“I’ll stop embarrassing you when you stop lying about having reasons to stay after school other than to walk with me.”

“Me? Walk you home?” Hyunjin’s face contorted into a mock horrified expression, “Preposterous.”

You couldn’t hold in your laugh this time, and you sent a weak punch to his shoulder. These were your favorite times with Hyunjin, the moments in life where neither of you had to worry about your status, your friends, your daily troubles. It was like nothing else mattered in these moments except you and Hyunjin.

As the two of you rounded to the school bus station, you felt two fingers gently graze against the back of your hand, sending electricity up your arm. It was these hints, these subtle actions that cause you to wonder if Hyunjin was actually trying to make a move. Yet, the thought would leave in less than a millisecond, because his fingers have never made it to the palm of your hand, much less to the point of lacing them together with yours.

“Why didn’t you say you were home alone yesterday?” he asked, leaning against a pole and silently offering you the only seat at the station.

“Okay, I’m one hundred percent convinced that you hired a spy to stalk me at this point,” you accused with no bite in your voice, “How in the world did you know that?”

“Jisung saw you walking to school this morning, and your mom always drops you off if she was home.”

“So, Jisung is your spy?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, with a strange amount of bite in his voice, “Like I would spend money to employ Jisung. I wouldn’t even accept his services if they were free.”

“Did something happen between you and Jisung again?”

Now that you were objectively friends with Hyunjin as well as Jisung, it didn’t take long for you to see the evident tension between the two. From what you’ve heard from both sides (and Jeongin, because Jeongin can get all the tea with his dimple smile and puppy eyes), it’s a lot better than before, but you couldn’t help but sense a sliver of agitation in Hyunjin’s voice whenever your conversations led to Jisung.

The boy turned away from you, staring at the pavement, “Not exactly,” he grumbled, and you decided not to push, since Hyunjin was the type to come to you if he needed your advice. It was clear that there was something, though, and you were thinking about how you could squeeze it out of either Jeongin or Jisung when the bus pulled up abruptly.

Seeing that it was already quite late for a school day, the bus was pretty empty, so Hyunjin and you got your pick of seating. As always, he offered you the window seat, apparently because “it’s farther away from the aisle where strange men could bother you.” It was a pretty valid reason, you had to admit, and you slipped into the seat without much protest.

As the bus chugged on, passing multiple stops, you began to notice that Hyunjin’s normally excited eyes were dropping slightly, as if he were about to fall asleep. That’s weird, you thought, because Hyunjin did look a bit tired in his classes, too. Glancing at him from the corner of your eyes, you saw his head fall for a split second before he caught himself and stayed awake for a moment before falling back into an uncomfortable slumber.

Still, no matter how much he tossed and turned, he never seemed to lean to your direction. It was too obvious to be a coincidence and you wondered why it felt like Hyunjin was subconsciously trying to avoid falling asleep on you.

Gently, you tapped his thigh to get his attention, but not in a way that could wake him up abruptly. God knows that’s the worst thing you could do to a person.

“Hyunjin,” you whispered, and his eyes fluttered ever so slightly at your call, “if you want–um, if you want to lay your head on my shoulder, you can.”

If he were fully conscious, you were sure that he would’ve refused, making some stupid excuse while trying to hide the blush on his cheeks. It was always a mystery to you, why Hyunjin, who soaked up physical interaction like a sponge, would always seem to shy away from it whenever it came to you. Were you just so out of his radar that he doesn’t even want to give you the false hope?

But in that moment on the bus, Hyunjin was probably too sleepy and too delirious to think about your words carefully, because he accepted your offer by snuggling against you. Snuggling. You. He rubbed his head against your shoulder, his soft black hair tickling your face, and his arms snaked around yours, holding it tightly. You thanked your lucky stars that he was fast asleep, since your face was probably the shade of a ripe tomato.

As he slept on, you finally got an up close look at his face (not that you didn’t have the chances otherwise, you just always found yourself looking away whenever he got too close), and you frowned when you noticed a pallid yellow looking bruise on his left cheek, skillfully masked with makeup. You also take note of the scar under his eye, not covered with any foundation but still blending in with the rest of his complexion. You remember when he got that, about a month ago, because he had knocked on your door with a sheepish smile and a dark shades of purple mottling his face.

Naturally, you had freaked out, dragging him into the kitchen to nurse his wounds. You eventually learned that this wasn’t a one time occurrence, especially since he began showing up at your door on various days with some sort of bodily injury.

Hyunjin never told you where the bruises came from, except when he reassured you that they weren’t from his parents. It was no secret that bad boy Hwang Hyunjin got into fights, came to school with bruised knuckles and cuts on his cheeks, but now that you knew him, now that you knew Hwang Hyunjin wasn’t all just thorns and sharp edges, you worried for him.

In the back of your head, you wondered if the boy knew how much you cared, or if he even bothered to know at all.

The bus soon neared your stop, and you sadly had to break up what was quite a comfortable position for both of you. Shaking your shoulder lightly, and brushing the hair out of his face, you whispered, “Hyunjin, it’s time to get up.”

The boy groaned, rubbing his cheek against your shoulder stubbornly, but you began pulling away, “Idiot, we’re gonna miss our stop!”

“Okay, okay,” Hyunjin mumbled a reply, obviously still only half conscious, but awake enough to sit upright just as the bus pulled into the stop. A little worried that he might collapse, you kept a firm grip on his arm even as the two of you stepped onto the street. It wasn’t until you could feel him steadying himself that you let go.

The two of you walked in silence, falling into routine. The streets in your neighborhood were relatively empty like usual, which got a little unnerving when you had to walk home yourself. Even with Hyunjin walking home, you still found yourself on high alert whenever you heard a strange sound, or felt the chill of someone watching you.

“Oh my god,” Startled, you whipped around to glance at Hyunjin, who brought his hands up to cover his face in mortification, “I fell asleep on you, didn’t I?”

You nodded silently, trying to act more casual than you were actually feeling. The blush on Hyunjin’s face could be seen through his fingers as he visibly panicked, “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t think I would—“

Waving your hands frantically, you dismissed his worries, “It’s okay! I asked you first.”

Hyunjin’s eyes were curiously wide, “You did?”

You laughed off your embarrassment, nodding, “Yeah. It was pretty cute, to be honest,” you added as an afterthought.

(You didn’t know, but this was the moment Hyunjin began to think—began to hope—that maybe his feelings were being reciprocated. If you were at least half as in love with him as he was with you, he would be satisfied.)

As the house came into view, the embarrassment of the moment died down, and Hyunjin began to grow talkative again, “Are you home alone again?”

“For a little,” you said, staring at the pavement, “My mom’s coming home really early morning.”

When you unlocked the door, Hyunjin silently keeping watch of the street, you started hesitantly, “Do you want to come in and chill?”

This wasn’t the first time you’ve asked, and Hyunjin has hung out at your place multiple times. For a moment, you thought he would say yes; you could see it in his eyes and his body language that he wanted to stay.

“Nah, I can’t today,” Hyunjin said sadly, running a hand through his hair, “I’ve got work.”

You felt a sudden pang of annoyance (and hurt, because Hyunjin didn’t have to lie just so he didn’t have to spend time with you), “You and I both know you don’t have a job, Hyunjin,” you tried to keep the taste of bitterness out of your voice.

Despite your efforts to hide your growing disappointment, it was at moments like this where it was clear that Hyunjin could read you like an open book. Immediately, he moved towards you, his expression apologetic as his hands twitched, almost as if he was holding himself back from reaching for you.

“I really wish I could stay,” Hyunjin tried to look you in the eyes directly to convey his sincerity, “It’s just, Channie-hyung wants us to do this thing tonight, and I really can’t ditch this time.”

You shook your head, “It’s fine, really” you said, and you genuinely wanted to believe it was. It wasn’t your place to be clingy, you reminded yourself, and it certainly wasn’t your place to be disappointed that he wouldn’t stay with you.

Hyunjin could only stare forlornly as you entered the house, the air between you thick with a tension that hasn’t existed since you first started interacting. Before you closed the door, you managed a smile as you said, “Tell the boys I said hi.”

iii.

What a disaster.

The moment you shut the door on Hyunjin, you sank to the wood floor, your head in your hands as you sighed dejectedly. Three months. Three bloody months, and the two of you still faced the same problem as you did when you hated each other.

Why was it that when it came to Hwang Hyunjin, you were just unable to voice your true feelings?

It was easier for a while, when you had finally learned to look past his expensive clothes to see the vulnerable boy underneath. It was easier back then to be true to yourself, because the two of you shared a mutual understanding that made you close. You found a kindred spirit in a world full of lies and expectations, and he found someone who was willing to accept him for who he was.

Now, you found yourself just as flustered, as helpless as when you first met him, because in just three months, it was not an exaggeration to say that Hwang Hyunjin held your heart in his hands. It terrified you, because every time you spoke to him, it felt like every casual conversation, every brush of the hand, every giggle meant the world to you. And the worst part was that he probably didn’t even know.

Hwang Hyunjin made you speechless in the best way. He made you laugh in a way you didn’t even know you could. He made you forget about the unpaid bills, the upcoming exams, the college applications that had consumed every moment of your life. He freed you from your own anxiety, calling you late at night just so you wouldn’t be up alone studying. He helped you with everything that you had always thought you would have to bear alone, and that was only a portion of why he was so special to you.

Maybe, just maybe, you were ready to accept that you were in love with Hwang Hyunjin.

After what felt like an eternity, you pushed yourself off the floor, wiping some wetness off your cheeks. Not even a boy like Hyunjin was going to distract you from doing your work, and you got quickly lost in your house chores while blasting your “sad girl hours playlist.”

On top of your seemingly miserable love life, there were a lot of things that you worried about as a senior in high school. Your mom still worked three jobs, and after taking on extra hours for one of them, you barely ever see her any more. If you were being honest, you had been mulling over the idea of not applying for colleges and just going straight to work. After all, any university would cost a shit ton of money that you didn’t have.

People would be mad, you thought amusedly, if you made it known that you weren’t planning on applying to universities. Your teachers would be most furious, not because they actually care, but because their star student dropping out after high school would be absolutely scandalous for their reputation. Jisung would be mad too, because he knew how much you studied throughout high school and knew how much you wanted to graduate with a degree.

And Hyunjin—Hyunjin would probably offer to pay for your education if you so much as mentioned that you didn’t have the funds to attend a university, and that absolutely could not happen. You didn’t want his pity money, and you certainly didn’t want to feel that you were leeching off him.

As much as you wanted a diploma to hang in your house, you’d rather work right after high school than beg for money from anyone.

So, it really looked like you were going to be a post-high school dropout.

Awesome.

You slaved away over your housework until it was well past 10 pm, which was when you realized that it was a good idea to sit your ass down and eat some dinner. With some effort, you put together a gourmet meal of ramen and some leftover bulgogi, and were eating contently in the kitchen when your phone buzzed. You jumped at the sound, because it’s rare that anyone would be calling you at this hour.

Without even glancing at the caller ID, you picked up, knowing that it was probably your mom (or a panicked Jisung who forgot what the homework was), “Hello?”

“You picked up,” a familiar voice replied, sounding relieved. The line cracked slightly as your heart skipped.

“Hyunjin?” you asked, standing up already, “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

There was a moment of silence, and you were literally one second away from dropping everything you had to run to Hyunjin’s house when he spoke again, “No, everything’s fine. Just—“

Hyunjin trailed off before speaking tiredly, “I just wanted to hear your voice, that’s all.”

“I’m flattered, I really am,” you said, blushing slightly even though he couldn’t see you, “But something tells me there’s more to the story. Where are you?”

“I’m—,” there was a strained groan, and you immediately grew alert, “I’m actually on your street. Do you think I could crash at your place for a bit?”

You were stunned for a moment, too shocked to say anything, and Hyunjin immediately accepted the rejection with a bitter chuckle, “Guess not.”

“No, no, no!” you said frantically, “I was just caught off guard. Of course you can stay. I’ll come let you in right now.”

“Wait,” Hyunjin spoke sternly as you walked to the door, “Don’t open the door until I knock on it. There’s some drunk people walking around here.”

“There’s always at least a couple drunk people on this street,” you said mildly, but did whatever Hyunjin asked of you anyway.

“I know,” he replied, “but I’m still allowed to worry.”

His voice sounded close, and you could very faintly hear his real voice through the door as you heard someone shuffling around before knocking lightly. You hung up the phone and took the deadbolt out of your entrance.

“Not that I don’t enjoy your company,” you started as you pulled open the door, “but what exactly warrants a visit at ten—oh my god, Hyunjin.”

Standing in your doorway was a sheepish looking Hwang Hyunjin, more bruised, battered, and bloodier than ever.

iv.

“I know I’ve looked better, but can you please stop staring at me like I’m turning into a llama?”

There was no time for small talk, at least for you. Without so much as an indication that you had heard him, you yanked him into the hallway by his jacket, shutting the door quickly behind you. Hyunjin yelped, but followed you obediently and without much resistance.

Shoving him unceremoniously into a chair around the dining table, you immediately began fussing around him, cupping his face in your hands to check for cuts on his face, running your hands through his hair gently to feel for bruises. You didn’t have any idea what you were thinking at the time, only that Hyunjin was hurt, Hyunjin is in pain, why is Hyunjin bleeding. Then, you attacked his leather jacket, taking it off rather roughly when you observed that he didn’t seem to be majorly injured. Your hands then dived for his white t-shirt before you regained an ounce of self control and held yourself back.

“Can you take your shirt off?” you tried to push away your embarrassment as you gestured to the white piece of clothing. Hyunjin had never been injured enough for you to have to do any work on his chest or abdomen, and now you were being faced with the alarming prospect of seeing Hyunjin with his shirt off for the first time.

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, “You seemed well on your way to do it yourself just earlier,” he sounded rather amused, and your cheeks flushed bright pink.

“I’m not going to take your shirt off for you, Hwang Hyunjin,” you snapped, and turned away to grab some disinfectant wipes and bandages. You heard Hyunjin chuckle softly as he wriggled out of his t-shirt.

In any other occasion, you would’ve been flustered beyond belief, blushing and making a quick exit. As embarrassing as it was to admit, you had never been close with many boys, certainly not to the point where you’ve seen any of them up close without a shirt. And it wasn’t a surprise to see that Hyunjin was really fucking hot.

But that day, all you could see were the dark purple bruises mottling his body, the thin slashes that looked eerily like knife cuts. The embarrassment dissipated, and you could only stare in horror because why why why—

Hyunjin had grown silent as well, watching you carefully as you knelt down in front of him and began cleaning his wounds. He didn’t flinch when the antiseptic touched his open cuts, and you found your hands uncontrollably trembling as you dabbed as his wounds.

You could feel frustrated tears pooling in your eyes as all you could focus on were those injuries, those god forsaken injuries, and—

“Hey, hey,” you felt a large, gentle hand over yours as they stopped your movement, “You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

Blinking the tears away, your hands fell limp in his, and you wanted nothing more than to sink into Hyunjin’s embrace, “Why are you showing up like this again?” you whimpered, trying to keep your voice steady, “You were literally here last week and now it’s even worse—“

“Well, I never asked to get beat up,” Hyunjin snorted, and his indifference to his own health hurt you. Is he completely oblivious to the fact that every injury he suffers pains you too?

“Where are you even going to get this hurt every week?” you finally find it in you to ask, because you’ve had enough of Hyunjin showing up with wounds that you didn’t know how he got.

Hyunjin tensed, you felt his hand stiffen over yours, “I...can’t say,” he spoke slowly.

“Why not?” you asked, frustrated. You turned your hand over to lace your fingers into his, a gamble on your part, but Hyunjin reciprocated easily, holding your hand as if it was the only thing he wanted to do.

“I just can’t,” Hyunjin repeated tiredly, looking at your intertwined hands intently with an emotion in his gaze that you couldn’t read.

“Are you not allowed to tell me, or do you just not want to?”

Hyunjin groaned, a twinge of annoyance in his voice, “Why are you so caught up about where I was?”

His tone of voice set you off the wrong way, and you retracted your hands as you replied defensively, “Well, if you’re going to be bleeding out in my kitchen every week, don’t you think I have the right to know?”

Suddenly, the look in Hyunjin’s eyes changed. He was no longer the open, vulnerable Hyunjin you just saw a moment ago. The air around the two of you was electric with tension, and his expression grew ever so slightly colder as he asked quietly, “Am I not welcome here anymore?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Hyunjin,” you replied simply. You will never reach a point in your life where you wouldn’t drop everything to help Hyunjin if he ever needed it, maybe because in your heart, you knew he’d do the same for you.

“You’re never unwelcome here,” you stated honestly, before gesturing to him and the pile of bloody wipes and bandages on the counter, “but this has to stop.”

From his posture and his expression, you could tell that Hyunjin was far from calming down as he scoffed, “And what exactly is this?”

He was deflecting, you knew it, but you weren’t so infatuated that you were going to let him walk all over you, especially since he was the one coming to you for help, “What I mean by this,” you hissed, “is you coming over with bruises and cuts that you can’t explain. It’s you showing up at ten in the night and expecting me silently patch you up without asking you questions. It’s you,” your voice cracked ever so slightly, “coming with injuries that just get worse by the week, and you still won’t tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Hyunjin stood up abruptly, his expression so icy that you could feel a strange chill just by looking at him, “You’re not my mother, so stop acting like one,” he snapped. Hyunjin seemed to regret his words the moment he said them, it was a flash of guilt in his eyes that was instantaneous and sharp, but he didn’t apologize, gritting his teeth as pride got the best of him.

“You’re right,” you heard yourself say, walking over to him slowly. Grabbing the set of bandages and antiseptic wipes, you shoved them into Hyunjin’s arms, “I’m not your mother. I thought I made that crystal clear the day I lied to her just to protect you.”

“That should be everything you need,” you give a quick glance at the materials in Hyunjin’s arms, “I’m not going to tell you to get out. There’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry. You know where everything is, since you invite yourself over so much. But I’m done helping, at least until you start being truthful.”

Hyunjin’s eyes lost their intensity as he watched you swing your bag over your shoulder. Putting the bandages on the counter, he asked in confusion, “Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“It’s ten in the evening,” Hyunjin retorted, moving to put on his leather jacket as well.

“That didn’t seem to stop you.”

“That’s totally different.”

You nodded sarcastically, “Of course, everything’s different for you.”

“Stop being difficult,” the boy sighed, as if he was tired of fighting with you, but that only infuriated you more, because why was he speaking like you were the one making things hard for him?

“Sorry, I’ll get out of your hair then,” you said humorlessly, pulling open the door to welcome the biting cold. It seemed like it was only then that Hyunjin realized that you were being serious about leaving, because his eyes grew wide as he stretched out his hand instinctively.

“Wait, Y/N—,” you slammed the door shut before Hyunjin could finish. You could hear him making his way towards you, walking as fast as he could down the hallway, so you ran.You sprinted down the street, turning corners by instinct to get as far away from Hyunjin as you could.

Congratulations, you told yourself as tears dripped down your face.

You just pushed away the only person you had ever desperately wanted in your life.

By the time you made it to Jisung’s house, you were probably bawling. He lived pretty close to you, which was actually the reason the two of you became friends in the first place. Unlike Hyunjin, Jisung wasn’t wealthy. He wasn’t even well off, and you knew his parents were often out late at night to work double shifts, just like your mom. So, there was a high possibility that Jisung was home alone.

You punched the doorbell with unnecessary ferocity, your arms crossed tightly to defend yourself from the cold. To your luck, Jisung was still awake, and you heard him shouting as the door unlocked.

“Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?” He asked worriedly, pulling you into a quick hug, “It’s so late and—are you crying? What happened?”

Jisung dragged you into the house, sitting you down in the living room as he wrapped you in a thick blanket. His immediate kindness only made you more emotional, and you continued sobbing into your hands. Jisung had disappeared for a few minutes to return with a cup of hot tea, since you were freezing.

“Woah, woah, what’s going on?”

Gently, he pulled your hands away from your face. You must’ve looked like a mess, red-faced with tears all over, but Jisung didn’t mention anything, only crouching in front of you while gently comforting you.

“I fought with Hyunjin,” you said when you could finally breathe properly.

Jisung frowned, “Was Hyunjin at your place?”

You nodded, “He comes over every week whenever he’s all bruised up and hurt, a-and today I guess I was just really sick of him coming to me but he won’t ever tell me what happened and then everything just blew up—“

“Y/N, breathe,” Jisung stroked your hair to calm you down, because you were hyperventilating at that point, “Everything’s going to be fine.”

“He hates me.”

“I don’t think Hyunjin will ever be capable of hating you,” Jisung let out a chuckle, as if he knew something you didn’t, “As cringy as it is to say, that idiot cares about you more than he cares about anyone else in the universe. He was probably was just too riled up from earlier to think about what he was saying.”

“What happened?”

Jisung looked conflicted, and for a moment, you thought that he wouldn’t tell you either, “He got into a fight,” he said cautiously, as if he were treading on thin water.

Even through your tears, you couldn’t help but scoff, “Really? I thought he just fell down every single staircase he walked on.”

Jisung cracked a smile, looking visibly relieved that you were able to joke around, “Hyunjin…has a knack for pissing off the wrong people, and that tends to get him in trouble.”

“He’s also the son of some really fucking rich parents, so there’s eyes on him wherever we go. Whether he wants it or not, people will know who he is,” Jisung continued, moving to sit beside you on the couch, “It didn’t help that freshman year Hwang Hyunjin was angst embodied in an attractive, athletic body and he was able to punch people left and right but still relatively get away with it.”

“As much as he got away with it before, that shit catches up to you eventually, and now there’s a lot of pissed off people that want to settle the score with him.”

“What, so he just hosts a fight club where everyone lines up to kick his ass?”

Jisung laughed, “I think you’re underestimating Hyunjin, Y/N.”

“Well, he’s the one showing up beat up every week, so I don’t have much to go on,” you replied sarcastically.

“Trust me when I say this, Hyunjin knows how to throw a punch,” Jisung said, and the truthfulness behind his voice slightly worried you, “And Hyunjin doesn’t really look for trouble anymore, at least not like before. If anything, he’s getting caught up in shit mostly because of us.”

“Us?” you frowned, “Who’s ‘us’?”

“Did you really think that Stray Kids was just a dumb posse name we made up to be the next Mean Girls of high school?”

“Absolutely, and you will never convince me otherwise,” you said, deadpan.

Jisung rolled his eyes and ruffled your hair, “Can you stop deflecting? I’m trying to be serious and answer your question,” a smile betrayed the corner of his lips, and you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter just spending time with him.

“Look, Stray Kids don’t just prance around the school and do dumb stuff,” Jisung said, “We do bad things, things that could get us in huge trouble. We hack into companies to expose exploitation. We steal and sell in markets that absolutely are not legal. None of us are good people.”

You were still reeling from the load of information that just got dumped on you, but you weren’t going to allow Jisung to fall into that self-deprecating hole, “You’re a good person,” you said firmly, “The rest of the boys are good people, too. You wouldn’t be comforting me in the middle of the night if you weren’t a good person.”

Jisung managed a smile, “You’re always so determined to see the good in people you care about,” he gently took your hand in his, “I wish you could stop and see the good in yourself sometimes.”

There wasn’t anything you could say to that. You knew your worth, and you knew your limitations, so what was he talking about? You weren’t ever insecure about your status either, just bitter.

The boy seemed to understand your disbelief at his words, because he asked softly, “Why can’t you accept that Hyunjin is in love with you?”

You leapt out of your seat, standing away from Jisung as if stung, “He’s not in love with me!” you snapped, your anger rising to hide your sadness, “We were friends at most, and after today, I’m not sure we’re even acquaintances anymore.”

Jisung grew heated too, because he was tired of seeing you unconsciously hold yourself back from finding love because you thought you didn’t deserve it, “You’re so observant about everyone around you. You saw that Jeongin had a cold days before we realized. You say that Chan was having problems sleeping, so you lightened his schoolwork. You saw that Minho liked to dance, so you made arrangements for him to join the school dance club even though he wasn’t a student. You notice everything, big and small, so why can’t you see that everything Hyunjin does revolves around you?”

“Hyunjin has grown up so much in just these last three months, because of you,” he spoke softly, “He stopped smoking, which we had all agreed was a lost cause since we’ve tried to stop him for years. He hasn’t brought a random girl home for months. I know you’re stressed out because he shows up all beat up every week, but he would’ve shown up every other day if you had known him before. He doesn’t even like to fight anymore, it’s more of a necessity and a consequence from his past.”

“He’s so happy now, because of you,” Jisung whispered, pulling you back to the couch, “Why can’t you see that you mean the world to him?”

“I can’t,” you said, trying desperately to control your voice, “If I give myself that slightest bit of hope, I’ll be disappointed. If I let him in completely, he could destroy me. Jisung, look at me now, I’m trying to push him out and everything he does still hurts,” your voice cracked as you struggled to hold back your tears.

“We’ll just hurt each other,” you said quietly, Jisung pulling you into his arms as your cried silently. He silently wished to whoever was listening that you’d see Hyunjin would never, not in a million years, wish you pain. He was forced to watch for months as the two of you teetered around each other, too afraid to make a move but so desperate for each other’s company.

“We’re too different to make it work, Jisung.”

vi.

Going back to school the next day was torture. You had stayed the night at Jisung’s house, too drained to walk back home when it was so dark. You didn’t feel any better in the morning, and when you stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, your face was still puffy and blotchy from crying yourself to sleep.

Jisung and you walked to school together, and he seemed determined to make you feel better. You humored him as best you could, because you really were grateful for his company. Jisung could make you forget about your problems, if only for a moment, and he joked and quipped the whole bus ride to the school.

By the time you made it to your locker, Jisung following you with his books already in hand, you had managed to push the Hyunjin fiasco out of your head almost entirely. Yes, it still hurt, like a dull ache that wouldn’t go away, but you weren’t going to let him affect the rest of your life.

“I’m hurt,” Jisung was saying with that adorable pout on his face, “Stop slandering my breakfast!”

“Half of the egg shell was literally in my rice,” you replied, the corner of your lip quirking up amusedly, “I can still feel the scratches in my throat.”

“Oh, very funny,” Jisung let out an exaggerated laugh, “Remind me never to cook for you again.”

“That’s fine by me. Honestly, maybe I should make breakfast for you and give it to you at school. After this morning, I am highly concerned,” you said cheekily, before you sensed someone watching you. Turning around, your smile fell as Hyunjin looked at you from down the hall, his gaze unreadable.

The two of you stared at each other, and all of the pain from the night before came flooding back. He was still sporting those nasty cuts on his face, and his knuckles were wrapped poorly, no doubt done after you had left. He looked conflicted, as if wondering whether he should confront you. You probably had the same look on your face because, as much as you two had your differences, you didn’t want to leave any bad blood between the two of you. Hyunjin’s body moves towards you as his mouth opened to say your name and–

“Y/N, are you coming?” Jisung called from behind you, delicately tugging at your sleeve, and the connection snapped like a dry rubber band. Hyunjin stopped in his tracks, his whole body physically tensing up as if he had been slapped. The guilty expression had disappeared, and as you turned to give Jisung a gesture that you’ll follow him soon, you noticed his jaw clench angrily. His hand clenched into a tight fist as he leveled you with that infamous Hwang Hyunjin glare, the one that froze your heart. With a newfound vigor, he spun away from you, and without a look back, turned to walk down the opposite direction of the hallway without even giving you a chance to speak.

Utterly stunned by what had just happened, you blankly followed Jisung as he gently led you into the physics classroom, only answering him with nods or shakes of your head.

In that split second, Hyunjin’s eyes had flashed with so many emotions that you couldn’t decipher all of them clearly. Anger, frustration, coldness were just the few you could see. You found part of you wanting to run after him, to yank him by the arm and ask him what the fuck his problem was. But the final bell stopped you in your tracks, and you turned reluctantly towards your physics classroom.

As you pulled out your textbooks to get ready for class, your eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from the empty desk three seats to your left. Hyunjin’s normal desk. Was he skipping again? Frowning, you unconsciously began tallying the amount of absences he’s received in the last month. What if the teacher gets fed up suddenly and sends him to detention?

Without any conscious thought, you had begun fretting over Hyunjin again. Then, halfway through class and with your notebook filled with less than satisfactory doodles, you came to the mind boggling realization that it wasn’t your job to worry anymore, especially not when he paid back your kindness with distrust.

“Y/N, do you want to stop daydreaming and solve this equation on the board?” A sharp voice pierced your thoughts, and you flinched at your teacher’s pointed glare. You took a long look at the question as your brain began to put the pieces together, and stood up calmly, taking the chalk from your teacher’s hand.

Feeling the scorn boring down your back (your teachers never really liked you, the result of being too smart but too poor to afford full tuition), you solved the problem methodically and without hesitation, not even glancing at your teacher’s face. You knew it was right, anyway.

Jisung gave you a discreet thumbs up as you sat back down, shutting out your teacher and her obnoxious droning. A discreet slip of ripped notebook paper slid onto your desk, and you turned to look at Jisung who raised his eyebrows expectantly. With a quick roll of your eyes, you quietly glanced down at the note.

Did anything happen with Hyunjin today?

You scowled, scribbling furiously. No, it’s literally nine in the morning. Focus on class, idiot.

Stop moping, you scolded yourself. Your world doesn’t revolve around Hyunjin. You’ve gotten by every day without him, and now that he won’t be there anymore, you can still get by. You thought of his smile, the one that made his eyes disappear, the one that made him lean against you for support from laughing too hard. It hurt, but after seeing Hyunjin’s hardened gaze in the morning, you supposed it really was too late.

You spent the rest of the day drowning yourself in your studies, and Hyunjin’s seat remained empty.

vii.

School felt like those bombs that had frustratingly slow countdowns to them, and you were never as glad to leave as you were that day. Fortunately for you, student council wasn’t scheduled to meet after school, and you were one of the first people to step out of the building.

Your mother wasn’t picking you up this time. Actually, she'd been coming by less and less once she had found out that you actually had someone to accompany you home. You glanced at the time on your phone: 4 pm. And unconsciously, you found yourself sitting down on the side of the steps, waiting for your usual partner.

The moment it dawned on you, your face flushed, because how childish was it of you to expect Hyunjin to walk you home? You shuffled around awkwardly, but didn’t stand up. As much as you hated to admit it, you really wanted to walk with Hyunjin. Maybe it was just a safety issue, and maybe it was just your hope for a final attempt to patch together your fragmented relationship.

Besides, despite everything that would happen in his life, Hyunjin always remembered to go home with you. It was almost a ritual at this point, and as the minutes passed with no Hyunjin in sight, began to regret taking his presence for granted.

Five minutes, then ten minutes, and finally fifteen minutes passed, and you were ready to give up. Sighing quietly, you swung your backpack over your shoulder and you began to walk home alone. You stared at the school door forlornly, as if your staring would make him magically appear. Of course it didn’t.

You could almost hear him as you walked by yourself. You could almost smell his expensive cologne, hear his high pitched giggles, feel his hand brushing over yours. And more than any other moment in the past two days, you felt utterly, completely alone again.

It was an “again” situation, you tried to tell yourself, this isn’t any different from middle school, when all you knew were loud snickers, damp notebooks, and marked up desks. You were back to square zero, but the most painful part was that you had gotten to at least square ten smoothly before getting emotionally sucker punched in the gut.

Your phone buzzed in your hand as you walked down the empty streets, listening to whatever music you had saved on your playlists. Actually, a lot of the music you listened to was recommended by Hyunjin whenever you hung out at his apartment. He had pretty good music taste, if you had to admit.

It was a text from Jisung, asking if you had gotten home safely. You replied with a smiley face, since you weren’t exactly at home yet but there were only a couple of streets left.

You were still paying attention to your phone when your peripheral vision caught two men hanging out on the left side of the street. It was a rather narrow alleyway, and now that you were already walking, there wasn’t a way you could turn back without seeming obvious. One looked frighteningly well built, and the other was lean and tall, smoking a cigarette casually. Your eyes kept them in check as you tried to pick up your pace, and it soon became pretty clear that neither of them were drunk, which was suspicious. Only drunk people mingled in streets like this one.

You felt a leering pair of eyes track your movement as you passed them, your heart beat erratically as you prayed that you were only imagining things. The smell of smoke filled your nose, but you refused to give away any indication that you had noticed the men. You were five feet past them and beginning to lower your guard when you felt it. An unfamiliar hand grabbed your shoulder, and your heart jumped up to your throat.

There was no time to check whether the hand was hostile or not, so you reacted instantly, whipping around to slam your elbow into the outstretched arm. It was the big man, who grunted in surprise and let go of your shoulder instinctively. You took the split second to start running, but your meager attack did little to deter such a well built man, and he grabbed you by the waist, dragging you as you screamed.

You thrashed and thrashed, kicking and punching with very little force behind it. Your brain ran on overdrive, and in a last ditch effort, you managed to yank out the metal hair clip in your hair. It wasn’t sharp, but it did have a blunt pointed edge, and as your long hair fell out of its bun, you slammed the clip into the man’s thigh.

It broke through the skin, you could feel it and hear it as the man howled. Without missing a beat, you rammed it into the same spot again, and his hold on your waist loosened. Moving around, you stabbed his leg one more time before you managed to slither away, wasting no time as you bolted as fast as you could.

A sharp pain caused you to shriek; you had forgotten about the second person who finally decided it was time to get involved. He caught the ends of your long hair, and with a harsh tug, he yanked you to the ground, your hands scraping along the rough pavement.

“I have to give it to you,” the man sneered as you scrambled to regain your bearings, “You weren’t as easy as I thought you would be.”

As he thought? Was he waiting for you? You didn’t even know who he was! Your brain was woozy from adrenaline, and your thoughts ran a mile a minute.

“I don’t think I’ve seen anyone fight Yekwon like that,” the man sounded mildly intrigued, as if studying a surprising science experiment, “And since he’s over there moaning like a bitch, I guess I’ll have to return the favor for him.”

Without warning, a foot slammed into your stomach and you gasped for air, the pain spreading all over your body as you curled around yourself. Something was definitely bruised or cracked or broken, and you couldn’t hold the tears that spilled, every breath you took sending a wave of shock from your abdomen.

You just wanted it to end. The fight had left you, and when the man pulled you back up on your feet using the back of your collar, you could only struggle half heartedly. He seemed displeased that you kept your head down, trying desperately to avoid eye contact, and he pulled your hair backwards, forcing you to look at him.

“I have to admit, you’re pretty cute,” In any situation, the man would have been relatively good looking, but all you could see was a monster that you couldn’t escape, “I can see why he likes you.”

The smile on his face turned manic, the hand tangled in your hair moved like a flash, slapping you so hard your face went numb, “You shouldn’t waste your time with the likes of him,” he sounded sad, “I’m much better company, don’t you think-?”

“Really? Assaulting random girls on the streets,” you could almost cry because you knew that voice. You were sure it was him, even though the man’s body blocked you from his sight, “Damn, Minhyuk, you just keep lowering my expectations.”

“You insult me,” Despite being caught, Minhyuk’s voice rang gleefully, his grip going back to your hair as he swung you into view, “Do you think I have that much time on my hands?”

You’ve seen Hyunjin angry before. You’ve seen when his innocence is overcome by the darkness in his heart. You’ve seen the many faces of Hyunjin that he had when his walls were up and armed. But the moment the realization hit him that it was you, Hyunjin had never looked more utterly terrifying.

“Shocked?” Minhyuk laughed, unaware of Hyunjin’s change in attitude as he lapped up his own small victory, “Did you really think you could fuck with my business without some payback?”

“You hit her.”

Hyunjin’s absolute calm was unsettling, causing shivers down your spine as you watched Hyunjin fall deeper and deeper into his own rage. The light in his eyes had faded, and was replaced with a look of cold fury. He stared at you, growing angrier with every wound he counted.

A moment passed and a whirl of black flew at you. The grip on your hair immediately disappeared as Minhyuk was suddenly thrown back by a bullet-like punch to the face. You rolled away, taking cover on one side of the street, watching as Hyunjin destroyed Minhyuk one punch at a time.

“You fucking hit her,” he was snarling now, grabbing hold of Minhyuk’s shirt and slamming him against the wall. In vain, the man tried to fight back, but a Hyunjin pushed over the edge wasn’t someone you could just beat.

Jisung was right. Hyunjin could pack a punch.

A chilling crack cut through the air as he snapped the man’s wrist with a deliberate force, “You don’t get to fucking touch her with your filthy fucking hands!”

Minhyuk fell to the floor, whimpering in pain, and the burly man stood farther away, his hand still clutching the wounds that continued to leak blood onto the ground. He stared at Hyunjin with a mix of hatred and fear, but didn’t make any moves to attack him.

Hyunjin, after assessing the situation and knowing that the fight was over, ran to your side, his hands hovering over your face, but too afraid to touch you, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault, fuck.”

Your heart couldn’t stop racing as you tried to control your breathing, “It’s fine,” you panted, a hand over your chest, “I’m fine.”

You didn’t notice the broken smile as Hyunjin repeated your words softly, “Yeah, you’ll be fine, I promise.”

As gently as he could, he pulled you up, swing his leather jacket over your shoulders as he maneuvered you onto his back. You instinctively buried your face in the crook of his neck as he murmured with the softness he’d only ever give to you, “Let’s patch you up at my place.”

Before he turned the corner away from the alley, he addressed the Minhyuk once more, his voice coming out as a low, frightening snarl, “If you so much as breath near Y/N again, I’ll break more than just your wrist.”

viii.

You must’ve fallen asleep at some point, because when you finally realized where you were, Hyunjin was already setting you down delicately on his couch. Even with his efforts to be as gentle as possible, every movement caused you pain, and you bit your lip to avoid crying out. Taking his bulky leather jacket off your shoulders, Hyunjin absorbed the sight of your unseemly wounds.

His jaw clenched tightly with every bruise, every scratch that he saw, and he tore his eyes away from your body before he’d actually erupt in fury.

“I’ll grab some supplies,” Hyunjin spoke softly, trying his best not to startle you, “Let me know if you need anything.”

Your instincts urged you to respond, but you couldn’t even expend the energy to nod, much less say anything. At the corner of your eye, you caught the helpless expression on Hyunjin’s face and your insides turned. The moment he was out of sight, your hand crept up to your stomach, which was rippling with low currents of pain. You gently felt around, and something was definitely bruised.

Hyunjin walked back into the living room, freezing when he saw the pained expression on your face as you clutched your stomach.

“Did he,” the boy gripped the bandages in his hand tightly, “did he touch you there too?”

You shook your head, trying to ignore the pain, “No, but he kicked me pretty hard.”

“He kicked you,” Hyunjin repeated, his expression growing murderous, “I should’ve killed him.”

“Don’t. It’s just bruised, anyway,” you dismissed his worries, since Hyunjin didn’t sound like he was joking.

Hyunjin didn’t look like he was convinced, but he let it slide for now. As the anger died down, he seemed to shrink in confidence. He avoided your eyes, gently starting to disinfect the multitude of scratches that marred your legs. You stared at him as he worked, your brain moving sluggishly as you tried to decipher his silence.

He had begun methodically, obviously having cleaned injuries before. It made you wonder about the disaster that was Hyunjin’s bandages on his knuckles, especially since he seemed to know exactly what to do. As he made it to your arms, though, you noticed that Hyunjin had gradually started trembling. It was slight at first, his hand shaking as he wrapped a particularly nasty cut on your elbow, but as he worked down to your palms, it became rather alarming. You tried to catch his expression, but the long black hair hid his face from your view.

Hyunjin’s movements began to grow less steady as his hands began to grow out of control, and that was when you pulled yourself out of your trance-like state. Closing your fingers over the hand that was currently dabbing alcohol over your palm, you prodded gently, “Hyunjin, are you okay?”

The boy froze, his hand tensing in your grasp. You were beginning to worry that he had stopped breathing when he finally spoke, his voice hoarse and defeated, “God, I really don’t deserve you.”

Your heart jumped as you frowned, “What are you talking about?”

“It’s my fault. This is all my fault,” Hyunjin said brokenly, “Minhyuk found you because of me. Minhyuk targeted you because of me. He fucking lay his hands on you,” his breath hitched as even the mention of the incident sent his blood boiling, “because I was too selfish to let you go.”

You could only listen with your eyes wide as you felt Hyunjin clutch your hand like a lifeline.

“I always knew I would never be able to move forward from my past,” he started, “Even after Chan, even after clearing much of my name on files, I realized that it was hopeless, because no one will ever really forget my actions.”

“Chan told me to be careful, told me that spending so much time with you would put you in danger,” Hyunjin said quietly, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb, “But how could I stay away when you’re the one person in the world that actually makes me want to keep on living?”

“Oh, Hyunjin,” you couldn’t even spend time to mull over what essentially was an indirect confession, too busy trying to understand what Hyunjin was trying to get to, “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” he said earnestly, finally looking at your directly as if trying to convey his sincerity, “I know you don’t think that’s true, but you mean more to me than anyone else in the universe. I’m not lying, Y/N, please understand—I need you to believe me, please—“

“Okay, okay, I believe you,” your unoccupied hand buried itself in Hyunjin’s hair as you rubbed his scalp placatingly because Hyunjin had begun to grow desperately frantic.

He leaned into your touch, as if it brought him a sense of comfort that nothing else could in comparison, “I thought it was fine,” he whispered, “I’m with you all the time anyway, I could protect you if something happened. I was so fucking stupid, and the one day I couldn’t make it in time to walk you home, you got hurt.”

You hummed to show that you were still listening, your hands continuing to massage through his soft locks in an effort to calm him down.

“I’m so jealous of Jisung,” Hyunjin confessed suddenly, catching you off guard, “He can spend time with you so comfortably, and you two are so close, I hate that I’ll never be able to understand you the way he does.”

“Jisung and I understand each other due to circumstances,” you agreed slowly, “But we don’t have to live similar lives to understand each other, Hyunjin. Don’t you think we’re connected by something else?”

Hyunjin opened his mouth to reply before shutting it immediately, his eyes exposing his hesitation. When you gazed at him questioningly, he steeled his nerves, and spoke the words that had been threatening to burst out of his chest for the last three months.

“I’m in love with you.”

Your jaw went slack, “Y-you’re—what?”

“I’m in love with you,” Hyunjin repeated more definitively, but his voice was tinged with a sort of resignation, as if he had completely accepted that his confession wouldn’t be reciprocated, “I have been for months.”

“But—you never,” you struggled to get your words out as, “you always pulled away from me whenever we started to get closer. You’re so clingy with everyone else but you always avoid me.”

Hyunjin chuckled, “Y/N, if I let myself fall, I’ll never be able to stop liking you.”

“And why is that a bad thing?”

“Because I can’t be in love with you!” Hyunjin said frustratedly, ”I’m too dangerous, too broken, too scared to treat you right. I’m not good for you, Y/N.”

“Why don’t I get to decide that?” you asked just as fervently.

Hyunjin flashed with hurt, “Stop phrasing it like that.”

You frowned, “Like what?”

“Like you love me.”

“Oh, Hyunjin,” you sighed, a smile peeking at the corner of your lips, “I can tell you with absolute certainty. I’m also in love with you.”

Hyunjin froze for a long, torturous moment before his eyes grew impossibly wide as he grabbed both your hands, “Really?” His voice sounded so innocent and so hopeful, and all you wanted to do was to wrap your arms around him and fall in his embrace.

“Really.”

Hyunjin leaned in closer towards your face, your foreheads touching and his hands delicately placed on your arms, “I’m worried that I won’t be good enough for you,” he murmured, “I’m scared that I’ll put you in danger. You deserve the world, Y/N, and I’d give it to you in a heartbeat, but I’m afraid that I won’t be able to.”

“I don’t need the world, Hyunjin,” you brushed his cheek as your face flushed a bright pink. He was so close, you could count his eyelashes and see every imperfection on his face, “I just want you to let me in.”

Hyunjin giggled, his breath fanning your face. Cupping your face with his hands, your lips were only millimeters apart when he answered, “Deal.”

As his lips pressed against yours with all the gentleness and love that Hyunjin held for you, your heart finally lost the weight you’d been carrying ever since you realized how far you’d fallen for him. And maybe, just maybe, you two loved each other enough to make this work.

#hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin imagine #hwang hyunjin scenarios #stray kids #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #my fics

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novelsandtea · 3 years

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Book Review: A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J. Maas

Rate: 4.5/5

Nesta Archeron has always been prickly-proud, swift to anger, and slow to forgive. And ever since being forced into the Cauldron and becoming High Fae against her will, she's struggled to find a place for herself within the strange, deadly world she inhabits. Worse, she can't seem to move past the horrors of the war with Hybern and all she lost in it. The one person who ignites her temper more than any other is Cassian, the battle-scarred warrior whose position in Rhysand and Feyre's Night Court keeps him constantly in Nesta's orbit. But her temper isn't the only thing Cassian ignites. The fire between them is undeniable, and only burns hotter as they are forced into close quarters with each other. Meanwhile, the treacherous human queens who returned to the Continent during the last war have forged a dangerous new alliance, threatening the fragile peace that has settled over the realms. And the key to halting them might very well rely on Cassian and Nesta facing their haunting pasts. Against the sweeping backdrop of a world seared by war and plagued with uncertainty, Nesta and Cassian battle monsters from within and without as they search for acceptance-and healing-in each other's arms.

This is the fourth book in Sarah J. Maas’s A Court of Thorns and Roses world. If you haven’t read the first three books – Go read them! Not only are they amazing stories, but this book will not make much sense without the background, even if it is more of a spin-off from the core trilogy.

I really liked this book! It has a little bit of everything: drama, quests, banter, romance, danger, spice (okay more than a little bit there). Its over 750 pages long, and I spent almost every free moment I had reading it and was finished in three days. That’s saying something since I’m not a particularly fast reader. I had worried about getting into a story that was not only not focused on my favorites from the previous books, but one of the two POVs was probably my least favorite character of the entire series (hello Nesta). By the time I finished it, however, I was cheering for every success these characters had! I seriously recommend this book, especially to anyone interested in a story that has a slower build but is still packed with wonderful moments that will have you at the edge of our seat.

Aaaand that’s really all I have for the non-spoiler section! Full review below.

SPOILERS AHEAD!

Since finishing the book, I’ve sat down and really thought about the plot of the story. As Maas’s books are typically very action packed, I had gone into this book expecting the same. While still having some real tense action scenes, a lot less happens in this book which is surprising considering its size. I think that is telling of Maas’s talent in her character development and her ability to make a story of recovery and growth as riveting as one filled with war and battles. The majority of the story is focused on Nesta and her healing from the traumatic events she had gone through during the previous books. I truthfully never really liked Nesta, and I found her to be incredibly selfish and harsh. Even in the beginning of ACOSF, she is always angry and lashing out at everyone around her. While it had me wanting to pull out my hair, I ended up loving that we get that unapologetic broken character in the beginning. We follow Nesta throughout her entire arc of recovery. We see her in her lowest of lows and are right alongside her as she learns how to work through her traumas and pain and face the person she has become. I especially loved the focus on healing broken relationships and accepting both responsibility and forgiveness. Not everything is perfectly healed by the end, but we do see Nesta walking a better path having accepted all parts of herself, both dark and light. A lot of time is spent on Nesta trying to push down that darkness and death that she associates with her powers. Seeing her not only accept that part of her but finally understand how she can exist beyond it was so impactful, and I think it does a good job of holding a mirror to similar feelings that I believe a lot of people have experienced. I really loved the hike and breakdown that followed her explosion at Amren’s place and the reveal to Feyre. The way mental health is represented in this book is refreshing, and so many parts of it felt so raw and real. It really struck a chord with me, and moved me in many ways as I was reading. It may sound cliché, but reading about Nesta learning to heal helped me acknowledge and accept parts of myself.

While Cassian is half of the POV in this book, it truly does feel like Nesta’s story. That being said, I did love the parts of Cassian we had. I loved reading his struggle with wanting to be there for Nesta in the ways she needed but also needing to protect himself. I adored how he truly saw her and always accepted every part, even all the ugly spots. When he felt the mating bond snap into place but left knowing Nesta couldn’t deal with it at that time, gah I was dying. Cassian never once pitied her. He wanted to help and protect her, but he knew it was a journey she had to do herself. He is a leading force in Nesta’s growth and constantly offers both his own strength and vulnerability. I really enjoyed seeing the love grow between them, especially as Nesta learned to open herself more to the possibility of healing and finding her own place and purpose. I just really can’t get enough of them together! I also really loved the moments we got between the three brothers – I was surprised by how much I had wanted those scenes. It was exciting to get a closer glimpse into that aspect of Cassian’s life, and the bond between him, Az, and Rhys.

I can’t avoid at least mentioning the smut in this book. All I will really say is this book has really stepped fully into the adult category. The scenes were extremely intense, steamy, and pretty descriptive. If you were looking for that typical Maas smuttiness aspect, be prepared for this book to be several notches above what we’ve seen previously (and a lot more of it).

I could seriously talk about this book forever, but as I already fear I’ve begun to ramble, I’m just going to list some of my favorite things I haven’t mentioned yet below:

The House!! I loved the relationship that developed between it and Nesta. Their interactions really became conversations, and I loved the idea of a sentient object becoming a core force in Nesta’s life. Also only-bubble baths and a baby pegasus are always a win.

Every snarky comment between Nesta and Cassian. Extremely entertaining and witty.

The entire Court of Nightmare scene with the dancing. So powerful and I loved seeing Nesta in her element.

The process of Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn coming together. I really loved reading about their training together, and the chapters once they meet up in the Blood Rite were some of my favorites. Their mini romance book club was precious.

A Rhys and Feyre baby! While I had some issues with this plot point, I still enjoyed the place it had in the story. The reactions of Cassian and Azriel was one of my favorite moments of the entire book.

The introduction to what I assume is the next major villain for the rest of the series. While it didn’t feature too largely until the end of the book, I think it did a good job setting up the situation for future installments.

The search for the Dead Trove. I really loved each moment we get, especially with the kelpie during the search for the mask. Good stuff

A few things I didn’t love:

I didn’t love how often Mor was gone. I know she did not really have a role in this story, but it would have been nice to see her more in passing as we did other characters.

The whole early delivery aspect of the pregnancy plot line. It felt a little plot convenient to me, and no explanation was ever given. I did like Nesta’s sacrifice and that moment, but I didn’t like how and why it happened.

I didn’t love that Rhys was trying so hard to hide the truth about the pregnancy from Feyre. I can kind of understand it when thinking about how he knew they were all probably going to die (that dumb bargain what the heck) but it is still stupid. Not the biggest issue to me, just not my favorite thing.

How much time we spent focused on the queen only to have her completely removed from the entire story in a blink. I know Nesta was insanely powerful at the time, but I just wanted…more.

I went into this book with very different expectations from what I got. I really enjoyed reading it, and I will definitely be getting the next book when it is published. Whether you loved or hated Nesta in the earlier books, I would recommend giving this one a chance. It sure changed my mind! Let me know your thoughts, I would love to discuss it!

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mediaevalmusereads · 3 years

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The Black Tides of Heaven. By Jy Yang. New York: Tor, 2017.

Rating: 3/5 stars

Genre: novella, fantasy

Part of a Series? Yes, Tensorate #1

Summary: Mokoya and Akeha, the twin children of the Protector, were sold to the Grand Monastery as children. While Mokoya developed their strange prophetic gift, Akeha was always the one who could see the strings that moved adults to action. While Mokoya received visions of what would be, Akeha realized what could be. What's more, they saw the sickness at the heart of their mother's Protectorate. A rebellion is growing. The Machinists discover new levers to move the world every day, while the Tensors fight to put them down and preserve the power of the state. Unwilling to continue to play a pawn in their mother's twisted schemes, Akeha leaves the Tensorate behind and falls in with the rebels. But every step Akeha takes towards the Machinists is a step away from Mokoya. Can Akeha find peace without shattering the bond they shares with their twin?

***Full review under the cut.***

Minor spoilers under “Characters.”

Content Warnings: violence, blood, suicide

Overview: I kept seeing this book pop up on lists of non-Western fantasy and lgbt+ reading lists, so I took the plunge and bought a copy. The plot seemed interesting, and in many ways, it definitely was. There was rich worldbuilding and intriguing politics, and I appreciated the way gender was treated. However, as much as I loved the ideas in this novel, I ultimately felt that I was reading an outline rather than a finished product. There are a lot of places where things would happen or characters would do things and I didn’t quite understand why (other than, perhaps, to create drama?). If Yang had fleshed out those moments and made a full-length novel, I think The Black Tides of Heaven could have been a more satisfying read.

Writing: Yang’s writing is fairly well-balanced between telling and showing in most places. I had no trouble immersing myself in the world or the plot, and the sentences flowed together well so I never felt confused or lost. There were a few blips here and there - for example, when we’re first introduced to the character Thennjay, his backstory is dumped onto us in about a paragraph, which made me think the author wanted us to absorb it right away without doing the work to make it more significant or interesting. But otherwise, I think Yang’s prose was well-crafted.

Plot: This book primarily follows twins Mokoya and Akeha as they come to terms with their supernatural (?) abilities against the backdrop of political unrest and rebellion. We follow them from birth to age 35 as they struggle with their mother’s control, their gender identities, and their relationship each each other, all while some rebels are mounting a resistance campaign against the throne.

At first, I liked the idea of this plot, but ultimately, I felt like a lot of the important political stuff was unsupported or undervalued. The main conflict is supposed to be between the ruling class and a working class (teamed up with some from the disgruntled ruling class?), but it felt like the conflict was never established as part of the lived reality of people in Yang’s world. For example, we never see how the working class is treated - we don’t even see the Protector doing anything cruel or outright bad. She doesn’t actively manipulate Mokoya or try to use their prophecies to gain more power (at least not on-page). We just get the vibe that the Protector is corrupt or power-hungry with a few sneaky, ruthless deals thrown in here and there. As a result, the political conflict didn’t feel very important, so when a big plot point happens (like Thennjay being the next Head Abbot), I felt like we were told its significance rather than feeling its significance.

The same lack of support seems to also happen in the development of the romance(s). Whenever Mokoya or Akeha would fall for someone, it seemed to come out of nowhere. There is one which particularly feels like insta-love, and the love interest is so new to us, the reader, that it’s hard to see why our POV characters fall so hard for them.

I also felt like major scenes or sections didn’t build upon each other and seemed to be inserted for action or drama. For example, early in the book, the twins escape the monastery to avoid being separated by their mother. While they are out, they find a cave full of supplies and randomly have to fight a kirin - an extinct mythical beast. The significance of the cave or the kirin is never brought up again, and it turns out the twins never had to slip out and escape anyway, since they were eventually told they wouldn’t be separated. It made me wonder what the point of the twins being at the monastery was - what did they learn there that would be important later in the book?

Lastly, the time skips make the main conflict of the plot feel less urgent. I understand that with politics, conflict can continue for years and years; however, when a scene happens and then 10+ years go by, it feels like the plot isn’t really building up anything. I think to make these time skips more effective, Yang could have shown us how tensions keep growing year after year until there comes a moment where the people reach their breaking point (or some major development happens, etc). As it stands, I didn’t quite get that feeling.

Characters: This is story is mainly told from Mokoya’s and Akeha’s POVs (though the prose uses third person, not first). What I appreciated most about Mokoya and Akeha was their gender journey; in Yang’s world, children are raised genderless until they are around 18-20, when they are given the opportunity to choose (or “confirm”) their gender. I really liked the way Mokoya and Akeha talked about their genders - Mokoya speaks about “feeling” like a woman, while Akeha struggles to be a man despite being raised in a family of only women. They change their language to reflect their change in identity, and I liked that the world around them didn’t expect someone to choose a gender based on patriarchal expectations.

That being said, I wish there was a little more work put into developing Mokoya and Akeha’s involvement with opposite sides of the political conflict. To me, it felt like the decisions to get involved weren’t personal, and we’re told more than shown that certain things are significant. For example, Mokoya reveals at one point the extent of their involvement and complicity in the political plot, and it kind of just felt... empty. Like we weren’t shown Mokoya doing things, nor were we shown a scene where the outcome was determined by Mokoya’s involvement. We’re definitely told about it later, but we don’t get to see it.

I also felt like Yang asked readers to care about certain characters who had little involvement in the twins’ lives. For example, Mokoya reveals at one point that she is pregnant (this is long after the twins confirm their gender identities), and Akeha feels a longing to meet his niece. However, something happens to the neice that makes their meeting impossible - and this all happens in about 10 pages. So, I felt like I was being asked to absorb the emotional impact of this event without really having time to feel Akeha’s longing.

The niece is one example where it felt like side characters were mainly used to further a plot or as somewhat underdeveloped characters. While I liked the idea of many supporting characters, the book was so short that it didn’t feel like these characters had any time to make a grand impact. I would have liked to see more work put into establishing a few supporting characters as key pieces in this political plot, perhaps with everyone seemingly coming in and out of the twins’ lives to try to push them in one direction or another. The first Head Abbot is one example of someone who could have had a larger role, as is the Protector and Thennjay.

TL;DR: The Black Tides of Heaven is an intriguing novella with interesting worldbuilding and likeable protagonists. However, the disjointed plot feels a bit too rushed and supporting characters feel a bit too one-dimensional for this book to be a truly satisfying read.

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a-duck-with-a-book · 3 years

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REVIEW // Traitors of the Black Crown by Cate Pearce

★★★★★

🌟 HIDDEN GEM 🌟

** I received this book free from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review

"Your body is a vessel. You flood the man inside it with pain. Let go of your pain, weep it to the world, and the rivers resume their course."

This is the kind of book that you simply cannot put down. Once the plot gets going, there are so many twists and turns that made me keep telling myself "just one more chapter".

The world building is intricate and fascinating. I kind of wish I had a map to track where the characters were, since they move around a considerable amount, and hopefully the published edition will have one. I never felt like the information being provided about the history and lore of the world was dragging down the plot, and Pearce was able to paint a detailed backdrop for the story without taking away from the forward movement of the story.

// image: official cover art //

I ended up really enjoying the romance between (SPOILER) Raenna and Aven (SPOILER END), even though I typically disliked insta-attraction and wasn't on board with their sudden desire for each other. Despite this, I think Pearce wrote their relationship beautifully, and I while they were separated I was desperate to see them reunited.

One of my favorite elements of this novel was the presence of dire consequences. We were shown again and again that characters could very much be killed or maimed, and this made moments like (SPOILER) Aven and Bell racing into the underground passages of the keep to rescue a sick man after everyone had escaped the invading Boens (SPOILER END) even more exciting. The constant threat of a largely inescapable underground force followed the characters throughout their journey to safety, and the previously established risks and consequences made it an edge of your seat read.

I also liked how the plot kept me guessing. I was never sure was going on with Zarana, and kept on modifying my predictions for the inevitable bit twist (which I still got wrong, but I was sort of close). My main criticism is that it does take a bit for the plot to get going, although I think plenty still happens in the first half to keep readers entertained. The competition at the beginning is a great set up to the tone of the novel, and a little after half way through the book the story becomes incredibly action-packed. I wouldn't criticize the intervening period however, as it is still interesting and crucial to setting up the later section.

Now, as is always the case whenever I read an ARC I love, I have to go through the torturous period of waiting for the second book to come when the first one hasn't even been released yet :(

Characters:

Raena/Rowan - knight of Hawk's Keep, masquerading as a man to hide her identity, exiled from Candor and forced into Duchess Avenna's service Finnley (Finn) - knight of Hawk's Keep, forced into Prince Zander's service Avenna - widowed Duchess of House Colby Prince Zander - corrupt, de facto ruler of Candor Queen Zarana - bedridden queen of Candor, her power is usurped by her son Lord Sylas - Lord of Hawk's Keep, raised Raenna, Finn's uncle Guon - knight for House Colby Lord Henry Schinen - Raena's father, (SPOILER) killed by orders of Queen Zarena (SPOILER END) Lady Islabell (Bell) - close friend of Raena, Lord Sylas' daughter

#bookblr #bookish #bookworm #goodreads #book review #review #a duck with a book #ya #ya fantasy #young adult #fantasy #lgbtq #lgbt #f/f #traitors of the black crown #cate pearce #black crown #fivestars #hiddem gem

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bookiemonsterph · 3 years

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Serpent & Dove

Synopsis:

Bound as one, to love, honor, or burn. Book one of a stunning fantasy duology, this tale of witchcraft and forbidden love is perfect for fans of Kendare Blake and Sara Holland.

Two years ago, Louise le Blanc fled her coven and took shelter in the city of Cesarine, forsaking all magic and living off whatever she could steal. There, witches like Lou are hunted. They are feared. And they are burned.

As a huntsman of the Church, Reid Diggory has lived his life by one principle: Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. But when Lou pulls a wicked stunt, the two are forced into an impossible situation—marriage.

Lou, unable to ignore her growing feelings, yet powerless to change what she is, must make a choice. And love makes fools of us all.

Set in a world of powerful women, dark magic, and off-the-charts romance, book one of this stunning fantasy duology will leave readers burning for more.

Title: Serpent & Dove Series: Serpent & Dove Author: Shelby Mahurin ISBN: 0062878034 (ISBN13: 9780062878038) Pages: 560 pages (Paperback) Published: August 4th 2020 by HarperTeen (first published September 3rd 2019) Characters: Reid Florin Diggory, Louise Margaux Larue Genre: Fantasy, Young Adult, Romance, Magic, Paranormal

I feel like I can’t even begin to describe just how pleasantly surprised I was by this novel. I am not a big fan of romance-heavy stories and one of my least favorite tropes of all time is hate-to-love relationships—so basically the two things the entire plot hinges on. Needless to say, I went into this very hesitantly. Very intrigued to learn how Lou and Reid end up in the position they do and to experience this story everyone has been raving about, but also keeping my expectations as low as I could. I did not for a second expect to come out of it knowing it will, without a doubt, be on my list of favorite books of the year. This is one of those books that I believe truly lives up to all the hype surrounding it.

Serpent & Dove is a dual perspective narrative following Lou le Blanc, a witch, and Reid Diggory, a Chasseur, or witch-hunter. Lou has escaped from her coven and has taken refuge in the city of Cesarine. She lives in hiding. giving up magic and surviving as a thief. In Cesarine, witches are seen as a danger to all of society—they are hunted and burned, and no woman is above suspicion.

Reid is sworn to the church and charged with the hunting and capture of witches, sworn into a role that demands he will not let a single witch live. In a surprising turn of events, Lou’s and Reid’s paths cross in a way neither of them could have ever expected. A way that leads to their marriage, that forms a seemingly impossible love, and that brings Lou under the roof of the people who could be her source of protection—or her death.

The writing in this book is absolutely superb and cements Shelby Mahurin on my list of favorite authors. Her writing is gorgeous and so easy to fall into. It is incredibly clear how meticulously she formed every aspect of this novel. Both the plot and the setting are incredibly intriguing and captivating. I loved the French influences in all aspects of the story—it makes for a very vivid and enticing atmosphere and Cesarine is the perfect backdrop for everything that takes place. She also does a wonderful job with the dual perspective narrative and creates two very individual voices for our two main characters.

Even though the romance is the main focus of the story, the fantasy aspect is very strong as well and is of almost equal importance. The fantastical elements, though more of a side plot for now, don’t really take a backseat in terms of detail or how significant they are to the overall story. Mahurin crafts an interesting and intricate magic system as strongly as she crafts the romance. It’s something I’m particularly looking forward to seeing in more detail in the next book.

The only minor issue I had plot-wise was the event that sends Lou and Reid down the path toward their marriage. Though my opinion shifted by the end of the novel, as I was able to see every event throughout in a different light, the scene still felt a little bit clumsy and heavy-handed and also completely random, maybe a little too much so. It wasn’t at all what I would have expected and was a bit of a letdown for me, so I sort of wish it had been done differently. But overall, this barely affected my enjoyment of the story as a whole.

This novel holds one of the most brilliant and beautiful casts of characters I’ve ever come across. Lou is everything. She is one of my new favorite characters of all time—I fell completely and utterly in love with her right from the very start of the novel. She is so strong despite the pain she has been through and the terror and uncertainty of her life now. Lou is sassy and sarcastic and absolutely hilarious. She’s tough and guarded much of the time, but underneath, she is so intensely loving, caring, and loyal—just an absolutely beautiful person. I connected with her so easily, and it was an absolute joy reading from her perspective and following her journey.

It took me a while to warm up to Reid, but I definitely had by the end of the novel. He’s quite set in his ways and his prejudices against women, always acting in a very traditional way toward Lou. They are living in a time when women are little more than the property of their husbands and this is something that is clearly ingrained in Reid. He is protective of her and chivalrous to a fault, but it takes a while from him to sound anywhere near loving, even after it’s clear he has feelings for her. At first, I struggled a bit reading his chapters because his attitude and initial inability to be open-minded frustrated me so much. However, there is one major reason I noticed that I think prevented me from connecting with him sooner.

Yes, he is very close-minded in many of his beliefs and his actions, but I felt that there were a few times where things sort of got lost in translation in a sense. There would be scenes from his point of view where his actions and words felt a bit confusing to me and I took them as negative. But later on, something would cause me to realize what exactly he meant by what he said or did and that it wasn’t in fact negative. I don’t think I explained that particularly well, but basically, I think there were times where his point of view could have been written more clearly. In the end, though, I did end up really liking him and it does become very obvious how much he truly cares and would do anything for Lou.

I ended up absolutely adoring the relationship between Lou and Reid. It unfolds and transforms in such a natural way. As I said before, hate-to-love is one of my least favorite tropes, but it is done so well here that I didn’t really mind it. It’s still not something I enjoy reading about and that obviously does impact my rating of the novel slightly. However, few people can get me to like a novel that features this type of relationship, and Mahurin definitely nailed it. My problem with the trope tends to stem from the tension being completely nonsensical and feeling like it’s just thrown in to create drama, and you will not find that in this book.

The tensions between Lou and Reid feel so realistic and necessary—they have every reason to be wary of each other. Understandably, that they sometimes overlook what they truly know about the other as a person in favor of ideas and prejudices that were hammered into them from a young age. They are both strong characters that are unapologetically themselves and, while it causes them to butt heads at first, it turns into a mutual respect for each other and, of course, love as well. The issues that create conflict, in the beginning, are what come to be the things that pull them together rather than drive them apart. And the sum of both of them individually—the strengths and the flaws—is what brings them each to love the other wholly.

There are also some stellar side characters in this story. Coco was, by far, my favorite—she is totally someone I’d love to be friends with. The friendship between her and Lou is so lovely and I’d gladly spend hours just reading about them. They have such a fun dynamic and they always have each other’s backs no matter what. They are the definition of found family and their story warmed my heart. Ansel, a bit like Reid, took me a while to start really liking, but he turns out to be an absolutely wonderful person and a great addition to that lovable found family.

Now for one of the most surprising things I’ve probably ever said and also one of the biggest contradictions when it comes to my typical taste in stories. As I’ve already said, I’m generally not a fan of books that heavily focus on romance. However, this book was so well written that one of my absolute favorite scenes in the entire story was the scene where Lou and Reid make love for the first time, as well as the truly heartwarming lead-up to it.

I am beyond picky about how sex scenes are written in novels. So many fall into the trap of using overly descriptive and flowery prose and a lot of just plain weird words for everything. While I think that being extremely blunt and cold about it is not a good direction to go in either, the flowery descriptions and oversharing of details tend to make these scenes feel very awkward and unrealistic.

The sex scene in this book does not fall into either of these traps and I absolutely adored it. It just feels so realistic and natural, and that is exactly what I frequently find is missing from these types of scenes. Mahurin continues to write as beautifully as ever but is, I felt, fairly minimal on the exact details of the scene. And this is exactly why it works so well.

While yes, there is still detail, she relies more often on the reader’s knowledge of what takes place during a sexual encounter, which cuts out the need for the overly flowery prose and questionable word choices. In a number of places, she writes it in a “fade to black” way without actually fading to black. Mahurin has created a perfect example of how a sex scene should be written and how it should feel to the reader. The focus is on the passion and love between Lou and Reid—on not just physical feeling, but emotional and mental as well. It is so beautiful and natural and is, by far, one of the best-executed scenes I’ve ever come across.

Suffice it to say, I really enjoyed this book. It is so beautifully written and captivating—it is very easy to fall into and get lost in. Shelby Mahurin has created a magical and emotional tale, both heartbreaking and heartwarming that, at its core, brilliantly demonstrates the power of love of all kinds. The story and especially the characters will definitely stick with me for a long time. I’ve honestly been thinking about it constantly since I finished it a few months ago. And, of course, I am absolutely dying to get my hands on the next book in this series. I love how this ended and I cannot wait to be back with these characters once again and see their story continue.

#serpent & dove #shelby mahurin

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