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#i’m either dying from myself or the world whichever comes first
wren-kitchens · 2 years
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hey does anyone have good news about the world cause i’m not convinced i’ll live past 23
#not even from mh issues either#just#the physical earth is dying and it’s our fault and no one gives a shit yk#no that’s wrong#*no one who can make a considerable difference gives a shit#sorry all my posts are so pessimistic right now lmao I don’t have enough brain energy to suppress thoughts anymore apparently#but it’s a little bit scary yk#like idk what’s gonna happen#we said that if nothing happens before 2030 then we’re screwed#well times tickin#there’s fuck all I can do about it#I can recycle a bottle and turn of my lights but apart from that the fuck am I supposed to do#I can’t implement laws that prohibit harmful gasses being emitted into the atmosphere#I can’t fix the economy#I can’t fix poverty and make sure everyone has enough to eat and drink#I can’t make everything run on solar power to reduce carbon emissions#dude I couldn’t get anyone to take me seriously when I was so terrified of climate change in y7 that i’d be crying about it near constantly#now ppl just think i’m vegan#which i’m not because guess what I fucking can’t because I won’t get enough vitamins or iron because I have bullshit sensory issues#i’m either dying from myself or the world whichever comes first#and they’re both approaching pretty fucking fast i’ll tell you that#anyway#hope elongated muskrat has fun with his fucking bird app#hoax rambles#vent#tw vent#vent tw#climate change#global warming#the terrifying thing is the fact we can literally see it happening
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robinette-green · 1 month
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Astrological Bullets
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They tell you that blood is thicker than water, but I disagree. If I never see my brother again, it’ll be too soon. Not that I’ll ever get the chance. I’ve been tied to these railroad tracks for a few hours now, patiently waiting for a train to end it all. With the blindfold over my eyes, it’s hard to tell what time of day it is, but with the heat radiating off the metal underneath me, I knew the sun must be high in the sky. If a train didn’t end it, heat stroke or dehydration most certainly would.
When I heard the horse, at first, I thought that the heat had started to bring me hallucinations. It was odd. I had assumed that heat visions were just that, visual. The sound of steam being released into the air made me certain that I was firm in the grips of the desert madness until he spoke.
“You seem to be in a bit of a bind. Normally, I’d mind my business, but curiosity has gotten the better of me. What could a lovely lady like yourself have done to warrant being tied to these tracks?” There was an actual person… wild. What was releasing steam? Maybe I am hallucinating.
Licking my lips in a vain attempt to wet them, I tried to say something but had to stop and clear my throat. The sand and dry air had already done a number on me.
“I’d love to tell you… If you would be kind enough to untie me.” I could hear the man kneel down by my head, his shadow falling over me, blocking out some of the direct heat from the sun.
“I think I should hear your story first. You may be tied up for a good reason. I don’t want to go releasing you if you deserve to be where you’ve gotten yourself.”
I released a long, weary sigh.
“It’s simple, really,” I said with as much of a shrug as I could manage while tied to wood and steel.
“My brother owes Mr. Madison money.”
“I don’t see how that has anything to do with your current situation, lass.”
“Mr. Madison’s goons apprehended me early this morning. Either my bother gives him the money, or I’m left out here to meet whichever fate finds me first.”
“And seeing as you’re still here, I’m guessing that your bother hasn’t found a way to pay this, Mr. Madison, his money.”
I rolled my head, partly in exasperation and partially to relieve some of the ache from my neck. Being tied to railroad tracks is rather uncomfortable.
“He’s managed to do less than try. He was out here a few hours ago. Said this was the least I could do for him. Dying to rid him of his debts.” Turning my head to the side, I would have spat in anger, but my mouth was much too dry. I scowled instead, teeth grinding together.
“I hope his sorry ass is disembodied by a bull.”
“We may be able to arrange that.” The man said with a chuckle before leaning over me. Fingers brushed against my face, following the edges of the blindfold back behind my head so it could be removed. I blinked in the sudden light, squinting up at the dark figure blotting out the sun. There was a hat atop his head, but coming from the sides of his face, there seemed to be metal points. In fact, the longer I looked up at him, the more he seemed to be made of metal. Blue eyes glowed down at me as he watched for my reaction, a slight smile playing across his lips.
Pulling a knife from a boot, the man leaned over and sliced the ropes holding me down. Fingers took mine, and he helped me to sit up, a hand going to the small of my back to keep me steady as spots appeared in my vision and the world seemed to swirl around me.
“Careful there, darling. Heat’s already done a number on you.”
A canteen of water was carefully pressed to my lips, and I drank greedily, one of my hands gripping his wrist to keep myself steady.
“Thank you,” I murmured, leaning heavily against this metal man.
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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years
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𝑅𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑆 𝑂𝐹 𝑆𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐷𝑈𝑆𝑇
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Summary: Kaz had faced two of his fears - almost watching you die and going against his touch aversion. And now he has to deal with the consequences that not only burden him, but also yourself
Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader
Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of violence, touch aversion,
Word Count: 3255
Masterlist Link
The night, it’s integrity toiled with you, as you say at the camp, with Inej planning on abandoning you all, and Jesper missing that bleating goat. It made you wonder of what direction that you should pursue going in, as you ogled up at the glittered sky, the sequinned stars glinting mischievously back at you. You were nothing other than a speck in the world, as they were in the laminated skyline, the Saints and dark generals were the ones that whisked you down such demeaning paths. The crows were to scurry from their brash threats and existences, the journey of catching the sun summoner had been all for nought.
Not a kruge had been earned in your name, the small bump of adventure had inevitably ended up as being a waste of both resources and time. And now the task of returning through the dreary and life threatening fold lay at your feet; such a plain that was created from pure evil was nerve wrecking. You’d never be considered as one of the goods that served the gods, but you were nowhere close to the Darkling’s maleficence. Had he not only taken hostage of a symbol to all geisha, but your veins were adeptly black, and the toxic venom was spreading with each hour that sourly passed. None of your fellow murder knew of the state that was combusting you; you had saved Kaz, with no regrets of doing so. That dagger had landed in Aleksander’s shoulder, and he had spread his shadowing cloud over to you, tormenting you with the image of complete destruction.
You were lucky to have escaped from his entrapment, Kaz had saved you, whisking your from the overbearing plough of suffering, even grabbing you with his glove covered hands, pressuring himself to do such an act to keep you alive. Though, you didn’t know how much longer you would remain so, and that was why you were gazing up at the constellations; hoping that you’d end up in their blazing glorification. Perhaps you’d survive, nothing was known of your current condition. Or you’d be cursed, turned grisha or something significantly worse. One thing that you’d learned on this gruelling mission was that anything was possible, even Kaz had made a step in his discomfort to rescue you, hauling you away from your inevitable doom by the arm, and stepping into the shrouding darkness. If it had not been for him, then you’d surely have composed into a defiled corpse, ripped apart by the darkness that Aleksander exhibited, and had enhanced through ancient looms that had been integrated onto absorbable parchment.
“I see that you’re less tense; does this mean that you are no longer mad at me?” His voice rang in your ears, prompting you to grind your teeth together as though you were mashing up crystals of salt. Eternally, you were grateful for the risk he had taken to ensure that you would not meet whichever saint you believed in once you travelled through the ropes of pitch and certain demise. You refused to give him the source of satisfaction of giving him your undivided attention; most feared him enough to comply and give him all the attentiveness he demanded as he struck his cane upon a surface, however, unlike those commoners, there was nothing about Kaz Brekker that struck fear in you. He were merely a man, whilst albeit had done some unforgivable things, had suffered same as everyone else, but terribly more so. “I’ll take your silence as a no then, should I?”
In turn, you crossed the folding origami of your arms over the expanse of your chest, and continued to ogle your pupils up towards the passageway of luminescence that hung like a chain in the velvet sky, causing Dirty Hands himself as he had been known, to release a heartfelt huff of frustration. It had taken quite the toll on him to oppose his own serious paranoia, and yet here you were, ignoring him after the cold events. Gulping, you couldn’t help but have annoyance seed in you as he continued to hover his presence beside you, he was using the tactic on purpose, full well knowing that it would eventually have you splintering until you cracked. You’d always had a soft spot for Kaz since the day you had met him; he was so brutally concurred with the ways of making a victim squeal like a sow giving birth, yet there continued to be an innocence within him, of which he hid from most. It was quite the contrast, as were his child like eyes that bore into you like his wish was to make you frail from poised embarrassment until you disappeared into a fine speck on the shoulder of his coat.
That was an irrational thought though, Kaz Brekker simply wanted to know, and not for the first time, why you disposed of reciprocated speech, and chose to pretend to be deaf to his consolation that he was attempting to reprimand with you. “Because if you remain to be angered with me saving your life, then, I would like to know. I’m not going to scoundrel around your presence all evening, we’re going to have to start moving sooner rather than later if we ever hope to get upon the route that I have planned. As useful as your combat is, and irreplaceable as I may think you are at times, I will allow you to go on your own path as you wish. You aren’t the only one that wants to part from the crows; Inej also has intentions to. If this is also because of the sun summoner, then they are freely your beliefs, though I certainly think you have the strength to strive towards something controversially more.” Inej leaving - that was news to you, and thus you finally surrendered, turning to him with spite written upon features, and commenced in supervising his lean form with integral eyes.
“To where do you have plans to go Kaz?” In turn, the volume of your sound increased, as you marked him as your target of choice. “And you’re right, I am pissed that you decided to save me rather than prioritising your own life; if anything were to happen to you, I’m not sure how I’d handle it. I have an inkling of a feeling that I wouldn’t even be able to. That’s because if you weren’t here I’d probably go crazy and envelop myself in a spiralling madness of which I’d be averted onto a path of nothingness. You are the one that has gifted me with a purpose, and time and time again you continue to preserve my life and I’m not sure I can cope with that. Just knowing that you are willing to throw yourself in the eye of danger to ensure that I do not meet my eventual end that is coming anyway. And worst of all, you faced off against that no good, dirty grisha, murderous General. Do you have any idea of what he would have done to you if he were to explicitly, and cruelly as are his routines, contort your body into the whim of his Darkling abilities.”
“I have an idea or two.” He admitted, toying with the fingers of his gloves, relieved to not see what lay beneath the leather. He stared at you in the face, feeling sickened from the sight of the creases that promoted your frown that was directed thoroughly towards him. It wasn’t a good feeling to be on the other end of your diverging glare, it was making him conflicted with the perishing of his emotions. A part of him was laughing inside that he was intimidated by someone, a woman no less, the other was rather impressed with your ample stubbornness. Now that was one thing that the two of you had in common; you both stood like stone, shadowing behind your beliefs or there lack of, as though Medusa had fixed the pair of you with her grey glazed glare, and forced you to be the way that you were. “And it was in fact you who decided to save my life first, I was merely returning the favour.” He now took it as his shift to allow his eyes to travel up into the beyond, the highlights that flawed his irises being triggered by the ambience that strobed in the frustrated sky, that was getting more antsy by each second that passed.
“I saved your life because I care about you, not because I value your skills and require them. That is a vast difference that separated us from being merely a single detail in a rope of stars. We’re separate in thought, and consolably close in real time and space, that fate has chosen us to be. We were both close to death in that second, he could have tarnished us both if that were his main priority, and we should be thankful that he realised that we were not lying when the admittance of not knowing of Alina Starkoff’s whereabouts fell off our tongues like misconducted liquor.” Your voice cracked, thinking about Kaz dead was the last thing that you wanted to obscure your mind, however it was the only thing that was roaming around the space like a moth darting around in a light fixture, having fallen captive to its own instinctive nature to fly too close to the example of fire. “Never, and I mean this Kaz, step in the path of death that narrows in my sights; I’d rather it be me than you of whom takes a fall into such a never ending abyss. You’re the face of this operation, and I am merely a killer that you decided to take under your wing whence times got too tough for either of us to cope alone.”
“I am not bound to make any promises, especially when you speak of accepting death so gracefully. And to answer your prior question, we are returning to Ketterdam, and I- i um-“ he fidgeted, his jaw contained to clench and release in a rhythm as he attempted to get the words out. “I need you to come with me on this, trust me, I have a plan, one that does not involve you dying. There will be no funerals that parallel this task ahead of us, if anything happens, you are my priority.” The heart felt ropes of words interlocked, much like the passage of beaming stars that made a blanket in the material of the sky; they shon stirringly in the abyss of the above, daring to deter you as its source of focus, causing you to freeze up as Kaz spoke his difficult to say words. “And when we get the one million kruge, that is when I will allow you to go out on your own, then you will have the expenses to protect yourself, and disappear if we cannot manage to end this eternal wrath that the grisha and hierarchy establish through the existence of the fold, they turn the tides of where whomever can go, and if they are gone, you shall have the freedom to venture to the place that your heart most desires, you’d no longer have to be trapped by my side similarly to my cane.”
“Everything that you are saying is tipping my head upside down; that I out of everyone, am your priority and that you are to set me free like a bird that has been trapped in a cage? Perhaps, this is a situation that it seems not you have enquired to think of, but I do not want to leave your side, even if I can. If I so much as wanted to, I’d have taken the chance to wrangle free in the midst of the journey from Ketterdam to these exasperating lands that want us to be persecuted for this job that we have taken underneath our midnight wings, though if you hadn’t noticed, I remain here. And whilst I wouldn’t have been peripherally if you weren’t to have saved me from my possible annihilation, I still have no intentions of abandoning you in any way, although that resolutes from you openly willing to take the risk of your own life in order to preserve my own. Never, and I compensate that with defiance, do that again.” You swiped your finger towards him, watching as the crease between his brows stiffened and grew deeper like a crescent that exhibited itself in the lawns of time, he poised his head back at your jurisdiction, clearly offended by your selfless demand.
“I cannot make that promise, there are little to no things that I have connective nurturing for; money and wealth stomp on nearly anything, but to me your life is priceless, even if your opinions do not retrograde the same reflection of worth.” His palm was shaky beneath its armour of leather as he went to reach for your hand, it took him a minute or so until he paid the dues of contact, but he faced his greatest fear, and denied avoiding contact. The prospect of Kaz touching anyone, let alone it being you, stirred a strange sensation through your body, as though you were being electrocuted via a storm, more specifically, a bolt of lightning that shot down from the angry clouds, shooting adrenaline and a high pulse through every limb of your form. “Do not mistake me for not having care towards Inej and Jesper, but without you I’d lose the path of succeeding through all my personal struggles, because you are the one thing that reminds me to continue to fight all of the harms in the world that wish to prosecute us, as though we are rodents that climb out from the sewers and run through the streets, poisoning them. There is a strong suit that wraps around me, stubbornly suffocating my interests, so that I have an avoidance of ever allowing anything to proceed to happen to you - get that through that steel skull of yours, you are smart and strong and my number one mine of gold for me to protect.”
“Kaz…” it felt like a forbidden sentence slipping off your tongue, simply by saying his name. You gave his hand a squeeze, noticing how he stiffened for a moment, and then relaxed a second later, getting used to the notion of silent amorist exchange; his blue eyes scalped every inch of your face, staring at the skin that compressed against your bone structure, the twinkle of the stars illuminating each distinctive feature that condoned your image. “I don’t know what I should say it’s - it is like we have been risking everything for nothing. And I am no gold mine, I cannot get us all that kruge, and I sure as hell can’t beat against the most powerful grisha known to man. I may be strong, but I am not strong enough. I may be smart, but certainly not smart enough. Overall, to everyone I am missing something, and it makes me wonder what else you see in me rather than an opportunist that can bring men to their knees in a second by sweeping beneath them, ready to swipe anything of value that they carry within the income of their pockets.” Drifting on their own accord, your eyes diverted once more to gaze up into the magnificent scenery that stroke above; each star was different within its placement, as well as how much it glowed under the pressure of insistent staring. It was as truly beautiful sight, and as you accorded your eyes to focus on the chord of light, Kaz’s eyes remained tuned upon your perseverance.
“The fact is you could bring any man, including myself,“ he gulped for a moment, feeling just how cheesy his words were as they spewed out, before he continued. Each word he spoke with giving you a new light that you saw Kaz under, he was not just a ruthless killer that likened to getting his hands dirty on a job, he was human like everyone else, many people seemed to forget that. But he had never appeared more humane as he did in the second with you, his hand clasped foreignly in the clasp of your own, and his eyes void of all intent, they were pure and for a second juridical with the haven of content. He wasn’t envisioning good, he was allowing himself to see what was right in front of him. “To their knees.” He finished his sentence, only to go on and elongate the mercenary like talk that he often had a problem with discussing. Though now could be the last moments that he could open up in such a way; it was uncertain how the turn of planned events would turn out, sailing through the fold was a danger all in itself, a toiling threat that was pushing you all forwards with a stern hand on each of your backs. “And you don’t even have to lift a finger to do so, every emotion you make me emit makes me possess a vigil weakness that I try to keep hidden, but in order to get the last of my strength through it, I acquire to get this off my chest before we venture to our next route. I care deeply for you, when I’m around you it feels like I am beneath water, the liquid gurgling in my lungs like sickening liquor. I have never felt this way, not have I ever had a desire to be monitored by these virtual sources, but they’re here, as are we.”
Taking a sturdy breath, you raised Kaz’s gloved hand and aligned it with your lips, gently pressing a kiss to the material that separated your skin. “You will not lose me Brekker, I’m not going anywhere. We’ve gotten this far, and that’s impressive all on its own. The trip back to Ketterdam cannot be as difficult as our journey here, we endured betrayal from that oaf that helped us cross the border, we got in and out of the Little Palace unscathed, and escaped the General on another account. I’d say that’s quite impressive, and behind every ploy you have been the grand mastermind. So let’s go home, and we can pick this up from there. ‘Tis a shame though, the stars don’t quite shine as bright back there, but we’ll have each other, and that is enough to brighten and guide me through the nights.” His lips stretched at the sides, depositing an appearance of relived thought. There had merely not been much of a fight between you on the situation, if he were to have pried any further about your safety he was sure there’d have been, but things had settled before they reached that stage. The primary battle though was to be against one of the most powerful grisha to walk the earth, of whom was keeping the Sun Summoner hostage. But as you had supposed, things would work themselves out. “I’m going to check on Inej, I won’t be a second.” He remembered the smile on your face as you trekked off, it was a notion to which he analysed that you were one of the few people who were kind to him. Once you were out of his vision, he looked up at the stars. There may have been no saints resting up there, but it sure was a peaceful view.
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lyrebirdswrites · 3 years
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Shrödinger’s Nobara
So we got an update on how Nobara is doing. It was not the update I wanted to see.
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My first impulse was to consider this a point blank confirmation of her death. I still think there’s a high chance she will not be recovering, and I would advise all Nobara stans to prepare emotionally for the possibility that she really is dead if you have not done so already. However, I also think it’s possible to make a case for her survival based on the information in this scene and the context from previous chapters, and I’m going to do my best to do so. Hopefully I can provide some comfort to anyone who might be freaking out over the implications here like I was at first.
Megumi doesn’t say she’s breathing or we don’t know or even it doesn’t look good - he says nothing at all. That does not fill me with confidence. But he doesn’t directly say she is gone either. This is a good time to remember the cardinal rule of character death; it’s not confirmed until we see the body. I think until we actually have indisputable proof of her death, we should continue operating under the assessment Nitta gave when he halted the damage caused by her wounds - don’t get your hopes up, but it’s not a zero percent chance.
I don’t consider Megumi’s pessimism to be indisputable proof. It’s damning, yes. But he is also highly subjective, inclined to assume the worst, and not an omnipotent force in the narrative. This isn’t me saying that the only reason there’s ambiguity is because she’s definitely still alive—that would be a wrong assumption to make. But if Akutami is still in two minds about what to do about her, or if he knows but doesn’t want to tell us, this scene is a neat way of sidestepping the need for a definitive answer right now. There’s enough plausible deniability in the framing of this exchange for Megumi’s answer to be read as she’s 100% dead, OR as she’s alive but in super fucking bad shape and it doesn’t look good. Whichever result it turns out to be, the scene can work in retrospect either way.
Which brings me to my not-retroactive interpretation of Yuuji’s immediate reaction. I think he would have been way more distressed if he perceived megumi’s silence as confirmation that she was without a doubt dead. He pulls himself together remarkably quickly for someone who full on had a mental breakdown mid fight at the sight of her injury. In the comments section over on readjujutsukaisen (credit where credit is due, not my analysis) commenter Asinine said “I think Megumi's non-response indicated the severity of her condition. I think Yuji's reaction revealed his pain followed by hope (clenched fist) she'll pull through.” That makes more sense to me than Yuuji thinking she’s actually dead and only having I get it!! to say about it before we rush on with the plot.
I’d really like to read the original raw version of this chapter, because it’s worth noting that the unofficial fan translation phrased Yuuji’s question like this: how is Kugisaki’s condition? It matters whether his question is past tense or present tense, because that positions Megumi’s answer as either past tense or present tense too. Megumi could be looking sad because, past tense, what happened to her was bad. Or he could be looking sad because, present tense, her condition is bad. I think the nuance there definitely affects how we as the audience should interpret this exchange and consequently Nobara’s chances. If anyone knows where I can read the raw scans please tell me.
Speaking of Nobara’s chances—structurally and narratively there is still more than enough room for her in the plot. When she was first taken out by Mahito, I figured she’d be fine because I thought her frequent references to people ‘messing up her beautiful face’ and her argument with Momo about scars on female jujutsu sorcerers/sexism in the jujutsu world were foreshadowing her having to live with that massive scar and a missing eye. If Akutami wants to continue exploring themes of feminism and sexism, as he has indicated through his characterisation of the broader zenin clan, Nobara now has a unique role to play in that aspect of the story: being treated differently after getting scarred.
Similarly, there are some interesting implications when it comes to her cursed technique and the current arc. Theoretically, she could use resonance on any of the newly awakened sorcerers/vessels and do some serious damage to The Brain, because they’re all strongly linked to him through the powers he gave them. She might provide an avenue to attack him later via that method—or Akutami might be deliberately sidelining her for the duration of this arc with the intent to have her recover later, because he saw this massive plot hole coming and he needs to thin out (cull) the crowd of awakened sorcerers first so she doesn’t have such easy access to a really powerful weakness in a major antagonist.
It’s also possible that he saw the plot hole coming and is killing her to fix it. But if that was the case, he wouldn’t have said in one of his interviews that he hadn’t made up his mind yet whether she was dead or not (?? That’s the translation I saw iirc, but I can’t vouch for its accuracy because I didn’t personally translate or cross check it myself).
Every other character’s death has been clear in a very gut punch kind of way, but ever since Nitta showed up this one has been SO ambiguous the whole way through. In my opinion, this scene does far more to increase the ambiguous tension than release it. It’s too vague. Akutami has been pretty good about giving his characters a fitting send off up to this point. I would be genuinely surprised if he broke the news about one of the main trio officially dying via one page in one chapter which doesn’t even give a status update though words, let alone through an actual drawing of her corpse/grave/ashes/funeral. Which loops me back to the cardinal rule of character death: it’s not confirmed until we see the body.
And let’s face it—if Akutami plans to keep Nobara alive, I am 100% sure he would drag the reveal out as long as possible and make it look as unlikely as possible in order to inflict Pain™ on his audience. Of course, if he plans to kill her off, the situation would look equally grim. But you know he wouldn’t hand us her recovery on a silver platter. Things seem bad (and like I said nobara stans this is your wake up call to start preparing for the worst case scenario now) but that doesn’t automatically mean that they are as bad as they seem.
In summary:
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nancywheelxr · 3 years
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i'm not sure if you prefer more specific prompts but if you have any interest, something canon-era (compliant or divergence) in the realm of "ye baiyi & every- or anyone"? whichever characters you wanna include; a moment or moments where he feels like maybe there is a little more to the rest of his life than duty and death. it's not only warm food he's been starved of for decades. your writing is great, i hope you're having a good day!
hi! thank you sm! i love getting prompts regardless, honestly, the only difference is that more specific ones tend to get done faster if only bc I already have a loose idea where to go with it! anyway, this somehow turned into a fix-it. that being said, I hope you’re having a lovely day too!
*
i.
They’re so painfully young.
A bird chirps in a tree somewhere nearby and around the fire, Qin Huaizhang’s disciple throws the blanket on the Wen brat’s face. What set off his sensibilities this time, Ye Baiyi doesn’t know, it might have been the perceived coddling, it might have simply been the fussing– either way, it’s pointless. Does he not know the brat will simply wait until he’s asleep to cover him? Does he not know their ridiculous dance around each other is nothing but time wasted?
How do the young ever get anything done?
Foolish. Have they ever been that foolish? Changqing, he knows, was a most ridiculous man with even more ridiculous ideas– who’s the bigger idiot, then, the fool or the one who loves him? 
“Ye-qianbei,” the boy appears at his side, wide-eyed like a newborn deer and with legs as shaky as one too, “if you’re cold, we have more blankets.”
The absurdity of the situation– to ask Ye Baiyi if he’s cold! What’s the night chill compared to the snowy grounds of his mountain? To him, is this not warm weather? “Little fool,” he says, shaking his head even as he laughs, “you’d do better worrying about your idiot master and his idiot friend.”
The kid looks across the fire, grimaces. “I don’t dare, I don’t dare! My brothers used to tell me not to get in the way when my parents were arguing!”
What a ridiculous child. Ye Baiyi laughs again. “They’re not arguing, they’re being dumb. Watch this,” he flicks a little rock at them, hitting Qin Huaizhang’s disciple in the forehead and earning an outraged glare from the Wen brat. “Qing Huaizhang’s disciple, your disciple is freezing off while you’re fooling around. Is this how you the two of you are going to raise your child?”
Beside him, the kid makes a startled little noise like a scared little rabbit before launching into a stuttering denial, but it’s too late, Qin Huaizhang’s disciple has already turned to focus on him as if smelling blood. “Chengling, are you cold? Why didn’t you say so?”
“Ah, no, no, I’m really not,” he tries, but he is, he wouldn’t have known to worry about others if he hadn’t been feeling the chill himself. “Ye-qianbei! Ye-qianbei–”
“Ah, ah!” Wen Kexing interrupts, shaking a finger in his direction, “why are you calling him? Come here, have this blanket since your Shifu is being stubborn.”
The boy goes obediently, shuffling around and nearly tripping on the log, and allows the Wen brat to wrap the blanket around his shoulders. Predictably, once he’s tucked in, the kid beams, pulling it tightly around himself. 
“Chengling, if you’re cold, you have to tell us,” says Qin Huaizhang’s disciple as if that’s a scolding, as if he’s not fussing over the child himself, stoking the fire and throwing in more kindling. 
A silly child with even sillier parents. Ye Baiyi snorts, shaking his head, and for a fleeting moment, he imagines walking this path alone– searching for the truth on his own, a silent forest stretching all the way to Longyuan Cabinet, only his footsteps left behind to prove he was even there at all– whatever. Picking up Qin Huaizhang’s dumb disciple and his dumb companions might not have been his worst decision so far. 
Maybe he could have found the place already if he were on his own, but at the very least they’re entertaining. Ridiculous, he thinks fondly, shaking his head at the blanket the kid has left folded at his feet.
*
ii.
What a mess.
Rong Xuan, you little brat, he thinks. How long has it been since the boy had first toddled up to him, little hands grabbing fistfuls of his robes? Too many, an eternity, and now nearly all of the boy’s friends are dead, all but one, and Ye Baiyi has to pay his respects to this freshly dug grave in his place. 
What a mess.
If you were in trouble, why didn’t you come back? Questions, questions, it’s too easy to ask them now. Why didn’t you ask for help? Why didn’t you send for us? Why did you think it would accomplish, running away? Stupid child, did you think we would turn you away? 
No, there’s no use asking them now, no point in dwelling in the past. What is there to change, after it already happened? Life is a very long road and the past is a land too distant to travel back to; Ye Baiyi would rather focus on the now.
Avenging their child had not been part of the promise he made to Changqing, but Ye Baiyi found the truth of this matter as he told him he would and the truth of it is that someone poisoned his disciple, his child. This cannot go unpunished, so for a while longer, he’ll live.
Further still, a little ways down, is Wen Kexing, whose parents died for Rong Xuan’s mistakes. A child growing up in a harsh world on his own. This debt, he’ll repay too.
For all that he gives his promises away like currency, Ye Baiyi is not sure how he feels about the piling of them– they stretch his finally numbered days, always pushing the deadline further. After the Heroes Conference, he’ll be done with the Ghost Valley. After he finds Rong Xuan’s murderer, he’ll be done with this mess. After he repays Wen Kexing, he will be at peace. 
And then–
Well. And then wine. Warm food. That was the plan, was it not? Heavens, he’s beginning to sound like Qin Huaizhang’s silly disciple, isn’t he? This won’t do. Changqing, even you would laugh at them. Tell me, then, if you were here, what would you do? Ah, something nonsensical, most likely, like go watch the plum trees bloom.
Ye Baiyi shakes his head, laughs. Changqing ah, won’t you tell me what to do? Maybe this time I’ll listen to you.
*
iii.
What kind of nonsense is this?
In all fairness, as much as his opinion of Wen Kexing has been as changing as the seasons, his uncanny ability to be an annoying nuisance has never flickered. He was annoying when he was staring down Ye Baiyi’s sword and he was annoying when he kneeled on the forest bed in apology and plea. 
Surely, it’s no surprise that he is annoying now, allegedly dead.
And yet, Ye Baiyi had not anticipated this level of stupidity from him: the brat did not tell Qin Huaizhang’s disciple of his plan.
Children, honestly. 
Now, the hem of his robes is wet and a few feet away, Qin Huaizhang’s disciple is wasting perfectly good wine in an unnecessarily dramatic manner. “Whatever stupid thing you’re planning,” Ye Baiyi says, eyeing the broken jar by the rocks, the dullness around the brat, “don’t.”
Zhou Zishu whirls on him with all the grace of a dying wet cat as if he’s in any condition to be fighting anyone, as if his hands weren’t shaking and his steps didn’t falter. The sword, once elegant and proud, wavers. Stupid boy. “Ye Baiyi, you–”
“Have you lost your manners down that jar? Or just your common sense? Put that away before I knock it off your hand myself,” he sighs, shaking his head. He should have stayed in his rooms, like planned, until the Heroes Conference; none of this has anything to do with him, his role in this play is mostly over, he just has to wait it out the intermission. And yet. “What kind of nonsense were you thinking? That fool, Wen Kexing, ran around for days like a headless chicken trying to save you and for what? You to throw it away?”
“What’s the point?” Qin Huaizhang’s disciple laughs, cold as the mountains, “what’s the point if he’s not here? Tell me, qianbei, why should I care to live if my soulmate is gone?”
His sword is dragging up the mud and Ye Baiyi wants to call him disrespectful for it, but the sight of it alone dredges up a well of grief that drowns the words in his throat. Why, indeed. This terrible emptiness, Ye Baiyi knows well– the hollow silence that comes where once a familiar voice called your name, the cold where once there was warmth, a hand never reaching back. Snow, all through summer and spring.
“Because that dumb disciple of yours will not last a day on his own,” he tells him, watching the water run towards the cliff’s edge, “because Qin Huaizhang has only you to pass on his legacy. Because that ridiculous hairpin on your head.”
“That’s not fair,” Qin Huaizhang’s disciple says, sounding exactly like he had been about to do something incredibly stupid earlier that would render this entire charade pointless from the start.
Truth be told, few things are, least of all, fate. Ah, but Ye Baiyi had unchanging decades to come to terms with that, perhaps he should spare the boy the heartache, unfounded as it is. “It’s not, but enough is enough. What are you crying for? Did you think it’s that easy to get rid of that pest? He should be ashamed if a little tumble is all it took.”
“Qianbei… you mean?”
Ye Baiyi heaves a pointedly tired sigh. “Yes, yes, the brat is alive. Probably holed up somewhere in that blasted valley of his.”
Qin Huaizhang’s disciple is as wide-eyed as his baby-deer disciple and if he actually starts crying, Ye Baiyi will drag Wen Kexing out of hiding kicking and screaming just to push him down the cliff again for making him witness this. He’s too old, he has little patience for the dramatics of the young, and he’s supposed to be drinking the best wine from the Yueyang area. 
So before he’s pulled even further into their nonsense, Ye Baiyi turns away, back to town and his quarters where he can drink and meditate in peace and really, Qin-xiaozi, your disciple is even sillier than you. 
At his back, he hears Zhou Zishu call, but his voice is lost to the waterfalls and Ye Baiyi makes no real effort to catch the words. What’s there to say? Pah, he’s already done more than his share on this, at no point did he promise to intervene on their pointless little dance. Once this is all over, that brat has better pay for all the wine in the land. And make those dumplings, too, for good measure.
*
iv.
Nobody told him whose wedding this is.
Considering they are in this thrice-damned place, he’s assuming it’s one of the ghosts, but Ye Baiyi figures the brat would be more annoying if it was his and Qin Huaizhang’s disciple’s. Then again, his own presence here is unfathomable, as is the insistence with which the little idiot had asked him to come. What on earth has Qin Huaizhang’s disciple told that child? Give someone an inch and they’ll take a mile, truly– now that boy is running around thinking Ye Baiyi cares about these lunatics.
“Who let him in!” Wen Kexing is screeching from somewhere, and Ye Baiyi mourns his peace as the brat approaches with his purple shadow trailing after. Had she been there this entire time? He squints. No, he would have noticed it, she’s very loud. “Old toad monster! Why are you still here? Who allowed you past the gates?”
“Who are you to tell me where to go?” He scoffs, flicking his sleeves as he crosses his arms. Nearby, a ghost hastily scurries away. “And it was your dumb disciple who begged me to be here. For what? Will there even be a banquet? And you call that decorations? That lantern is so crooked, it’s offensive!”
The purple child bristles. “Ah! And who does that silly boy think he is, inviting people to my wedding! Old man, you! Of course there’s gonna be food! Master and Luo-yi have been–”
“A-Xiang!” The brat cuts her off, closed fan tapping her forehead, as if everyone and their grandmothers don’t already know he’s been running around making preparations. What face is there to save, shameless as he is? If Ye Baiyi was a lesser man, he might have rolled his eyes. “Stop running your mouth, what is your husband going to say? And you! What crooked lantern? You’re going blind in your age!”
Still, even as he speaks, a pointed glare sends the ghosts scattering like mice, rushing to check on the decorations. Ridiculous. “No wonder the girl has no manners. What, you only know how to be polite when asking for something?”
Wen Kexing grumbles. “This one apologizes, qianbei.”
Well, that’s certainly worse. Unsettling. If even Wen Kexing starts being deferential, then what has the world come to? No, Ye Baiyi finds he’d prefer the brashness. Stupid child, what’s the point in changing his tune now? Pah. “Girl,” he says to that purple wisp of a thing, “your master is a pest. Where’s the wine?”
Baffling enough, the girl laughs, tugging at her master’s sleeves. “Master, master, Zishu-ge was right! You did make a friend!”
“What nonsense is this! Don’t you know when A-Xu is teasing? Friends! As if–”
“What rubbish have you been filling these children’s heads with?” He shakes a threatening finger in their direction. Not that it matters, considering the girl has already stepped back, giggling as she sidesteps Wen Kexing’s fan. 
Leaving them to their childishness, Ye Baiyi slips out of the crowd, picking a jar of wine as he goes. The alcohol is good, burning down his throat, and he hadn’t thought he’d step foot in the Ghost Valley, not like this. Something in him will always recoil at this place, always lay the blame at the valley’s mouth, a yawning jaw that’s swallowed whole the people most precious to him with no mercy. 
And yet, Changqing ah, you bastard, look at it. They’re holding a damned wedding, and here Ye Baiyi is, drinking their wine. Are you happy now? Did you become a bodhisattva yet? Fate makes fools of them all, there’s no way around it. He pours the wine over the rocks, lets it spill and run like blood. Xuan’er, did I not tell you not to climb so high? That shifu wouldn’t always be there to catch you if you slip on the ice? Ye Baiyi laughs at the memory– always clear in his mind, suspended in time, unfading, even if his sight blurs with tears– that boy, always scaring them half to death, climbing up the frozen mountainside as a child, then crying in fright once he looked down. 
“Look at the mess you’ve both left me,” he says out loud, downing the rest of the wine, and the silence is never quite as loud as in the hollow space where another would speak. For so long, Ye Baiyi knew to leave room for Changqing’s teasing, for their child’s incessant questions, even Rong-furen’s tired voice. Then, nothing. “What do you have to say for yourself, hm? Typical. I’ll drink for all of us this time, then, how about it? Changqing, I’m keeping my promises, so you’d better keep yours or I’ll–” 
The jar breaks where it falls from his fingers and he shakes his head as if dispelling the murky thoughts from his head. Perhaps, coming here was a mistake. The ashes have already been sent back to Changming, so what business does he have in this place? To see it closed with his own eyes? Besides, a wedding or two, a handful of people, are not worth the bloodshed creating the valley has brought, no matter what Changqing might say. 
Is this a comforting story to be told later, if– by the bridge, in case– 
His thoughts grind to a halt, veering off suddenly into attention to his surroundings. Someone is coming. Indeed, from his place near the entrance, Ye Baiyi can see in the distance a mob climbing up the path, silent as thieves in the night, with only a blue streak of disciples in plain sight at the front.
So much for avoiding bloodshed. Did they even wait for the dust to settle after the monks left town? And what kind of harebrained scheme is this? Has this generation been born with no brains? Such a reckless, petty move! No honor, agreeing to something and then plunging the knife behind their backs. 
There is little time to curse their dishonesty, though, with their numbers fast approaching, so Ye Baiyi swipes a last look at the desolate landscape and slips back inside to sound the alarms. After all, heaven knows that little purple girl will be terribly loud if she doesn’t get her wedding, and Ye Baiyi is not looking forward to remembering what headaches feel like. Honestly, if these people would stop nearly dying for five fucking minutes–
*
v.
Today, the mirror showed a new patch of white hair, faint lines at the corner of his eyes. 
Time, it seems, is catching up to him.
It’s exhilarating.
The plum trees have already lost their blossoms, winter gone as swiftly as it came, the cold melting to the lingering warmth of spring. Today, he walks past blooming azaleas, purple and red radiant against the blue backdrop of the sky.
It brings him to little Qin Huaizhang standing beside Rong Xuan, trying so very hard to impress his friend’s seniors with all the desperation of youth. The poetry he had waxed about his sect’s gardens– Four Seasons Manor, blooming all year round! Ye Baiyi had found him so silly, blabbering while Rong Xuan beamed, so quick to pick the fights Rong Xuan dropped. 
At the time, had he not thought history was repeating itself, if kinder? The Baiyi sword, gifted with the promise to keep his dumb disciple out of trouble? He still remembers Changqing’s face, the hypocrite. So exchanging swords for cursed books is fine, but anything else and you draw the line? At least promises were as reliable as the person making them. 
Now, he has to admit, the silly boy had not been wrong– Four Seasons Manor stands in more color than Ye Baiyi had thought possible. If he’ll have time to witness all its blooms, he doesn’t know, but this spring, he’s here, and isn’t that enough?
At the gates, the young disciple lets him in without a word, bowing respectfully like his seniors have never done. Good. At the very least, those two good-for-nothing brats had the decency to forewarn their juniors of his arrival. How long has it been since Qin Huaizhang’s disciple woke up from the procedure? Aiyah, Ye Baiyi can’t remember, he had been traveling south at the time. 
Well, it’s long enough to be past the need for coddling, that’s for sure. “Qin Huaizhang’s disciple, what kind of Sect Leader are you that you won’t come greet your esteemed guest?”
“Not really a Sect Leader,” comes the voice from his left as Zhou Zishu rounds into view, his silly disciple trailing faithfully after him. He looks better now, death no longer draped over his shoulders like a shroud, smiling like he found peace somewhere in the months since that disastrous wedding. “Qianbei, this one is honored to welcome you to our house. You’ve come at a good time, A-Xiang is visiting with her husband too.”
“Who’s an esteemed guest here? All I’m hearing is a bunch of freeloaders!” says Wen Kexing from somewhere inside the building, just as loud and brash as always, and following his words, the thundering footsteps of children. 
Ye Baiyi snorts, shakes his head. Changqing ah, wait a little while longer, will you? I’m on my way, but I have some places to visit first. Meet me by the bridge, I’ll tell you all about it in a bit.
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Careful How You Go.
Ella Kemp explores how film lovers can protect themselves from distressing subject matter while celebrating cinema at its most audacious.
Featuring Empire magazine editor Terri White, Test Pattern filmmaker Shatara Michelle Ford, writer and critic Jourdain Searles, publicist Courtney Mayhew, and curator, activist and producer Mia Bays of the Birds’ Eye View collective.
This story contains discussion of rape, sexual assault, abuse, self-harm, trauma and loss of life, as well as spoilers for ‘Promising Young Woman’ and ‘A Star is Born’.
We film lovers are blessed with a medium capable of excavating real-life emotion from something seemingly fictional. Yet, for all that film is—in the oft-quoted words of Roger Ebert—an “empathy machine”, it’s also capable of deeply hurting its audience when not wielded by its makers and promoters with appropriate care. Or, for that matter, when not approached by viewers with informed caution.
Whose job is it to let us know that we might be upset by what we see? With the coronavirus pandemic decimating the communal movie-going experience, the way we accommodate each viewer’s sensibilities is more crucial than ever—especially when so many of us are watching alone, at home, often unsupported.
In order to understand how we can champion a film’s content and take care of its audience, I approached women in several areas of the movie ecosystem. I wanted to know: how does a filmmaker approach the filming of a rape and its aftermath? How does a magazine editor navigate the celebration of a potentially triggering movie in one of the world’s biggest film publications? How does a freelance writer speak to her professional interests while preserving her personal integrity? How does a women’s film collective create a safe environment for an audience to process such a film? And, how does a publicist prepare journalists for careful reporting, when their job is to get eyeballs on screens in order to keep our favorite art form afloat?
The conversations reminded me that the answers are endlessly complex. The concerns over spoilers, the effectiveness of trigger warnings, the myriad ways in which art is crafted from trauma, and the fundamental question of whose stories these are to tell. These questions were valid decades ago, they will be for decades to come, and they feel especially urgent now, since a number of recent tales helmed by female and non-binary filmmakers depict violence and trauma involving women’s bodies in fearless, often challenging ways.
Emerald Fennell’s Promising Young Woman, in particular, has revived a vital conversation about content consideration, as victims and survivors of sexual assault record wildly different reactions to its astounding ending. Shatara Michelle Ford’s quietly tense debut, Test Pattern, brings Black survivors into the conversation. And the visceral, anti-wish-fulfillment horror Violation, coming soon from Dusty Mancinelli and Madeleine Sims-Fewer, takes the rape-revenge genre up another notch.
These films come off the back of other recent survivor stories, such as Michaela Coel’s groundbreaking series I May Destroy You (which centers women’s friendship in a narrative move that, as Sarah Williams has eloquently outlined, happens too rarely in this field). Also: Kata Wéber and Kornél Mundruczó’s Pieces of a Woman, and the ongoing ugh-ness of The Handmaid’s Tale. And though this article is focused on plots centering women’s trauma, I acknowledge the myriad of stories that can be triggering in many ways for all manner of viewers. So whether you’ve watched one of these titles, or others like them, I hope you felt supported in the conversations to follow, and that you feel seen.
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Weruche Opia and Michaela Coel in ‘I May Destroy You’.
* * *
Simply put, Promising Young Woman is a movie about a woman seeking revenge against predatory men. Except nothing about it is simple. Revenge movies have existed for aeons, and we’ve rooted for many promising young (mostly white) women before Carey Mulligan’s Cassie (recently: Jen in Coralie Fargeat’s Revenge, Noelle in Natalia Leite’s M.F.A.). But in Promising Young Woman, the victim is not alive to seek revenge, so it becomes Cassie’s single-minded crusade. Mercifully, we never see the gang-rape that sparks Cassie’s mission. But we do see a daring, fatal subversion of the notion of a happy ending—and this is what has audiences of Emerald Fennell’s jaw-dropping debut divided.
“For me, being a survivor, the point is to survive,” Jourdain Searles tells me. The New York-based critic, screenwriter, comedian—and host of Netflix’s new Black Film School series—says the presence of death in Promising Young Woman is the problem. “One of the first times I spoke openly about [my assault], I made the decision that I didn’t want to go to the police, and I got a lot of judgment for that,” she says. “So watching Promising Young Woman and seeing the police as the endgame is something I’ve always disagreed with. I left thinking, ‘How is this going to help?’”
“I feel like I’ve got two hats on,” says Terri White, the London-based editor-in chief of Empire magazine, and the author of a recently published memoir, Coming Undone. “One of which is me creating a magazine for a specific film-loving audience, and the other bit of me, which has written a book about trauma, specifically about violence perpetrated against the body. They’re not entirely siloed, but they are two distinct perspectives.”
White loved both Promising Young Woman and I May Destroy You, because they “explode the myth of resolution and redemption”. She calls the ending of Promising Young Woman “radical” in the way it speaks to the reality of what happens to so many women. “I was thinking about me and women like me, women who have endured violence and injury or trauma. Three women every week are still killed [in the UK] at the hands of an ex-partner, or somebody they know intimately, or a current partner. Statistically, any woman who goes for some kind of physical confrontation in [the way Cassie does] would end up dying.”
She adds: “I felt like the film was in service to both victims and survivors, and I use the word ‘victims’ deliberately. I call myself a victim because I think if you’ve endured either sexual violence or physical violence or both, a lot of empowering language, as far as I’m concerned, doesn’t reflect the reality of being a victim or a survivor, whichever way you choose to call yourself.” This point has been one many have disagreed on. In a way, that makes sense—no victim or survivor can be expected to speak to anyone else’s experience but their own.
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Carey Mulligan and Emerald Fennell on the set of ‘Promising Young Woman’.
Likewise, there is no right or wrong way to feel about this film, or any film. But a question that arises is, well, should everyone have to see a film to figure that out? And should victims and survivors of sexual violence watch this film? “I have definitely been picky about who I’ve recommended it to,” Courtney Mayhew says. “I don’t want to put a friend in harm’s way, even if that means they miss out on something awesome. It’s not worth it.”
Mayhew is a New Zealand-based international film publicist, and because of her country’s success in controlling Covid 19, she is one of the rare people able to experience Promising Young Woman in a sold-out cinema. “It was palpable. Everyone was so engaged and almost leaning forwards. There were a lot of laughs from women, but it was also a really challenging setting. A lot of people looking down, looking away, and there was a girl who was crying uncontrollably at the end.”
“Material can be very triggering,” White agrees. “It depends where people are personally in their journey. When I still had a lot of trauma I hadn’t worked through in my 20s, I found certain things very difficult to watch. Those things are a reality—but people can make their own decisions about the material they feel able to watch.”
It’s about warning, and preparation, more than total deprivation, then? “I believe in giving people information so they can make the best choice for themselves,” White says. “But I find it quite reductive, and infantilizing in some respects, to be told broadly, ‘Women who have experienced x shouldn’t watch this.’ That underestimates the resilience of some people, the thirst for more information and knowledge.” (This point is clearly made in this meticulous, awe-inspiring list by Jenn, who is on a journey to make sense of her trauma through analysis of rape-revenge films.) But clarity is crucial, particularly for those grappling with unresolved issues.
Searles agrees Promising Young Woman can be a difficult, even unpleasant watch, but still one with value. “As a survivor it did not make me feel good, but it gave me a window into the way other people might respond to your assault. A lot of the time [my friends] have reacted in ways I don’t understand, and the movie feels like it’s trying to make sense of an assault from the outside, and the complicated feelings a friend might have.”
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Molly Parker and Vanessa Kirby in ‘Pieces of a Woman’.
* * *
A newborn dies. A character is brutally violated. A population is tortured. To be human is to bear witness to history, but it’s still painful when that history is yours, or something very close to it. “Some things are hard to watch because you relate to them,” Searles explains. “I find mother! hard to watch, and there’s no actual sexual assault. But I just think of sexual assault and trauma and domestic abuse, even though the film isn’t about that. The thing is, you could read an academic paper on patriarchy—you don’t need to watch it on a show [or in a film] if you don’t want to.”
White agrees: “I’ve never been able to watch Nil by Mouth, because I grew up in a house of domestic violence and I find physical violence against women on screen very hard to watch. But that doesn’t mean I think the film shouldn’t be shown—it should still exist, I’ve just made the choice not to watch it.” (Reader, since our conversation, she watched it. At 2:00am.)
“I know people who do not watch Promising Young Woman or The Handmaid’s Tale because they work for an NGO in which they see those things literally in front of their eyes,” Mayhew says. “It could be helpful for someone who isn’t aware [of those issues], but then what is the purpose of art? To educate? To entertain? For escapism? It’s probably all of those.”
Importantly, how much weight should an artist’s shoulders carry, when it comes to considering the audiences that will see their work? There’s a general agreement among my interviewees that, as White says, “filmmakers have to make the art that they believe in”. I don’t think any film lover would disagree, but, suggests Searles, “these films should be made with survivors in mind. That doesn’t mean they always have to be sensitive and sad and declawed. But there is a way to be provocative, while leaning into an emotional truth.”
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Madeleine Sims-Fewer in ‘Violation’.
Violation, about which I’ll say little here since it is yet to screen at SXSW (ahead of its March 25 release on Shudder) is not at all declawed, and is certainly made with survivors in mind—in the sense that in life, unlike in movies, catharsis is very seldom possible no matter how far you go to find it. On Letterboxd, many of those who saw Violation at TIFF and Sundance speak of feeling represented by the rape-revenge plot, writing: “One of the most intentionally thought out and respectful of the genre… made by survivors for survivors” and “I feel seen and held”. (Also: “This movie is extremely hard to watch, completely on purpose.”)
“Art can do great service to people,” agrees White, “If, by consequence, there is great service for people who have been in that position, that’s a brilliant consequence. But I don’t believe filmmakers and artists should be told that they are responsible for certain things. There’s a line of responsibility in terms of being irresponsible, especially if your community is young, or traumatised.”
Her words call to mind Bradley Cooper’s reboot of A Star is Born, which many cinephiles knew to be a remake and therefore expected its plot twist, but young filmgoers, drawn by the presence of Lady Gaga, were shocked (and in some cases triggered) by a suicide scene. When it was released, Letterboxd saw many anguished reviews from younger members. In New Zealand, an explicit warning was added to the film’s classification by the country’s chief censor (who also created an entirely new ‘RP18’ classification for the Netflix series 13 Reasons Why, which eventually had a graphic suicide scene edited out two years after first landing on the streaming service).
“There is a duty of care to audiences, and there is also a duty of care to artists and filmmakers,” says Mayhew. “There’s got to be some way of meeting in the middle.” The middle, perhaps, can be identified by the filmmaker’s objective. “It’s about feeling safe in the material,” says Mia Bays of the Birds’ Eye View film collective, which curates and markets films by women in order to effect industry change. “With material like this, it’s beholden on creatives to interrogate their own intentions.”
Filmmaker Shatara Michelle Ford is “forever interrogating” ideas of power. Their debut feature, Test Pattern, deftly examines the power differentials that inform the foundations of consent. “As an artist, human, and person who has experienced all sorts of boundary violation, assault and exploitation in their life, I spend quite a lot of time thinking about power… It is something I grapple with in my personal life, and when I arrive in any workplace, including a film set.”
In her review of Test Pattern for The Hollywood Reporter, Searles writes, “This is not a movie about sexual assault as an abstract concept; it’s a movie about the reality of a sexual assault survivor’s experience.” Crucially, in a history of films that deal largely with white women’s experiences, Test Pattern “is one of the few sexual-assault stories to center a Black woman, with her Blackness being central to her experience and the way she is treated by the people around her.”
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Brittany S. Hall in ‘Test Pattern’.
* * *
Test Pattern follows the unfolding power imbalance between Renesha (Brittany S. Hall) and her devoted white boyfriend Evan (Will Brill), as he drives her from hospital to hospital in search of a rape kit, after her drink was spiked by a white man in a bar who then raped her. Where Promising Young Woman is a millennial-pink revenge fantasy of Insta-worthy proportions, Test Pattern feels all too real, and the cops don’t come off as well as they do in the former.
Ford does something very important for the audience: they begin the film just as the rape is about to occur. We do not see it at this point (we do not really ever see it), but we know that it happened, so there’s no chance that, somewhere deeper into the story, when we’re much more invested, we’ll be side-swiped by a sudden onslaught of sexual violence. In a way, it creates a safe space for our journey with Renesha.
It’s one of many thoughtful decisions made by Ford throughout the production process. “I’m in direct conversation with film and television that chooses to depict violence against women so casually,” Ford tells me. “I intentionally showed as little of Renesha’s rape as humanly possible. I also had an incredibly hard time being physically present for that scene, I should add. What I did shoot was ultimately guided by Renesha’s experience of it. Shoot only what she would remember. Show only what she would have been aware of.
“But I also made it clear that this was a violation of her autonomy, by allowing moments where we have an arm’s length point of view. I let the camera sit with the audience, as I’m also saying, as the filmmaker, this happened, and you saw enough of it to know. This, for me, is a larger commentary on how we treat victims of assault and rape. I do not believe for one goddamn minute that we need to see the actual, literal violence to know what happened. When we flagrantly replicate the violence in film and television, we are supporting the cultural norm of needing ‘all of the evidence’—whatever that means—to ‘believe women’.”
Ford’s intentional work in crafting the romance and unraveling of Test Pattern’s leading couple pays off on screen, but their stamp as an invested and careful director also shows in their work with Drew Fuller, the actor who played Mike, the rapist. “It’s a very difficult role, and I’m grateful to him for taking it so seriously. When discussing and rendering the practice and non-practice of consent intentionally, I found it helpful to give it a clear definition and provide conceptual insight.
“I sent Drew a few articles that I used as tools to create a baseline understanding when it comes to exploring consent and power on screen. At the top of that list was Lili Loofbourow’s piece, The female price of male pleasure and Zhana Vrangalova's Teen Vogue piece, Everything You Need to Know about Consent that You Never Learned in Sex Ed. The latter in my opinion is the linchpin. There’s also Jude Elison Sady Doyle’s piece about the whole Aziz Ansari thing, which is a great primer.”
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Sidney Flanigan in ‘Never Rarely Sometimes Always’.
Even when a filmmaker has given Ford’s level of care and attention to their project, what happens when the business end of the industry gets involved in the art? As we well know, marketing is a film’s window dressing. It has one job: to get eyeballs into the cinema. It can’t know if every viewer should feel safe to enter.
It would be useful, with certain material, to know how we should watch, and with whom, and what might we need in the way of support coming out. Whose job is it to provide this? Beyond the crude tool of an MPAA rating (and that’s a whole sorry tale for another day), there are many creative precautions that can be taken across the industry to safeguard a filmgoer’s experience.
Mayhew, who often sees films at the earliest stages (sometimes before a final cut, sometimes immediately after), speaks to journalists in early screenings and ensures they have the tools to safely report on the topics raised. In New Zealand, reporters are encouraged to read through resources to help them guide their work. Mayhew’s teams would also ensure journalists would be given relevant hotline numbers, and would ask media outlets to include them in published stories.
“It’s not saying, ‘You have to do this’,” she explains, “It’s about first of all not knowing what the journalist has been through themselves, and second of all, [if] they are entertainment reporters who haven’t navigated speaking about sexual assault, you only hope it will be helpful going forward. It’s certainly not done to infantilize them, because they’re smart people. It’s a way to show some care and support.”
The idea of having appropriate resources to make people feel safe and encourage them to make their own decisions is a priority for Bays and Birds’ Eye View, as well. The London-based creative producer and cultural activist stresses the importance of sharing such a viewing experience. “It’s the job of cinemas, distributors and festivals to realize that it might not be something the filmmaker does, but as the people in control of the environment it’s our job to give extra resources to those who want it,” says Bays. “To give people a safe space to come down from the experience.”
Pre-pandemic, when Birds’ Eye View screened Kitty Green’s The Assistant, a sharp condemnation of workplace micro-aggressions seen through the eyes of one female assistant, they invited women who had worked for Harvey Weinstein. For a discussion after Eliza Hittman’s coming-of-ager Never Rarely Sometimes Always, abortion experts were able to share their knowledge. “It’s about making sure the audience knows you can say anything here, but that it’s safe,” Bays explains. “It’s kind of like group therapy—you don’t know people, so you’re not beholden to what they think about you. And in the cinema people aren’t looking at you. You’re speaking somewhat anonymously, so a lot of really important stuff can come out.”
The traditional movie-going experience, involving friends, crowds and cathartic, let-loose feelings, is still largely inaccessible at the time of writing. Over the past twelve months we’ve talked plenty about preserving the magic of the big screen experience, but it’s about so much more than the romanticism of an art form; it’s also about the safety that comes from a feeling of community when watching potentially upsetting movies.
“The going in and coming out parts of watching a film in the cinema are massively important, because it’s like coming out of the airlock and coming back to reality,” says Bays. “You can’t do that at home. Difficult material kind of stays with you.” During the pandemic, Birds’ Eye View has continued to provide the same wrap-around curatorial support for at-home viewers as they would at an in-person event. “If we’re picking a difficult film and asking people to watch it at home, we might suggest you watch it with a friend so you can speak about it afterwards,” Bays says.
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Julia Garner in ‘The Assistant’.
But, then, how can we still find this sense of community without the physical closeness? “It’s no good waiting for [the internet] to become kind,” she says. “Create your own closed spaces. We do workshops and conversations exclusively for people who sign up to our newsletter. In real-life meetings you can go from hating something to hearing an eloquent presentation of another perspective and coming round to it, but you need the time and space to do that. This little amount of time gives you a move towards healing, even if it’s just licking some wounds that were opened on Twitter. But it could be much deeper, like being a survivor and feeling very conflicted about the film, which I do.”
Conflict is something that Searles, the film critic, knows about all too well in her work. “Since I started writing professionally, I almost feel like I’m known for writing about assault and rape at this point. I do write about it a lot, and as a survivor I continue to process it. I’ve been assaulted more than once so I have a lot to process, and so each time I’m writing about it I’m thinking about different aspects and remnants of those feelings. It can be very cathartic, but it’s a double-edged sword because sometimes I feel like I have an obligation to write about it too.”
There is also a constant act of self-preservation that comes with putting so much of yourself on the internet. “I often get messages from people thanking me for talking about these subjects with a deep understanding of what they mean,” Searles says. “I really appreciate that. I get negative messages about a lot of things, but not this one thing.”
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Michaela Coel in ‘I May Destroy You’.
* * *
With such thoughtful approaches to heavy content, it feels like we’re a long way further down the road from blunt tools like content and trigger warnings. But do they still have their place? “It’s just never seemed appropriate to put trigger warnings on any of our reviews or features,” White explains. “We have a heavy male readership, still 70 percent male to 30 percent female. I’m conscious we’re talking to a lot of men who will often have experienced violence themselves, but we don’t put any warnings, because we are an adult magazine, and when we talk about violence in, say, an action film, or violence that is very heavily between men, we don’t caveat that at all.”
Bays, too, is sceptical of trigger warnings, explaining that “there’s not much evidence [they] actually work. A lot of psychologists expound on the fact that if people get stuck in their trauma, you can never really recover from PTSD if you don’t at some point face your trauma.” She adds: “I’m a survivor, and I found I May Destroy You deeply, profoundly triggering, but also cathartic. I think it’s more about how you talk about the work, rather than having a ‘NB: survivors of sexual abuse or assault shouldn’t see this’.”
“It’s important to give people a feel of what they’re in for,” argues Searles. “A lot of people who have dealt with suicide ideation would prefer that warning.” While some worry that a content warning is effectively a plot spoiler, Searles disagrees. “I don’t consider a content warning a spoiler. I just couldn’t imagine sitting down for a film, knowing there’s going to be a suicide, and letting it distract me from the film.” Still, she acknowledges the nuance. “I think using ‘self-harm’ might be better than just saying ‘suicide’.”
Mayhew shared insights on who actually decides which films on which platforms are preceded with warnings—turns out, it’s a bit messy. “The onus traditionally has fallen on governmental censorship when it comes to theatrical releases,” she explains. “But streamers can do what they want, they are not bound by those rules so they have to—as the distributors and broadcasters—take the government’s censors on board in terms of how they are going to navigate it.
“The consumer doesn’t know the difference,” she continues, “nor should they—so it means they can be watching The Crown on Netflix and get this trigger warning about bulimia, and go to the cinema the next day and not get it, and feel angry about it. So there’s the question of where is the responsibility of the distributor, and where is the responsibility of the audience member to actually find out for themselves.”
The warnings given to an audience member can also vary widely depending where they find themselves in the world, too. Promising Young Woman, for example, is rated M in Australia, R18 in New Zealand, and R in the United States. Meanwhile, the invaluable Common Sense Media recommends an age of fifteen years and upwards for the “dark, powerful, mature revenge comedy”. Mayhew says a publicist’s job is “to have your finger on the pulse” about these cultural differences. “You have to read the overall room, and when I say room I mean the culture as a whole, and you have to be constantly abreast of things across those different ages too.”
She adds: “This feeds into the importance of representation right at the top of those boardrooms and right down to the film sets. My job is to see all opinions, and I never will, especially because I am a white woman. I consider myself part of the LGBT community and sometimes I’ll bring that to a room that I think has been lacking in that area, when it comes to harmful stereotypes that can be propagated within films about LGBT people. But I can’t bring a Black person’s perspective, I cannot bring an Indigenous perspective. The more representation you have, the better your film is going to be, your campaign is going to be.”
Bays, who is also a filmmaker, agrees: representation is about information, and working with enough knowledge to make sure your film is being as faithful to your chosen communities as possible. “As a filmmaker, I’d feel ill-informed and misplaced if I was stumbling into an area of representation that I knew nothing about without finding some tools and collaborators who could bring deeper insight.”
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Carey Mulligan and Bo Burnham in ‘Promising Young Woman’.
This is something Ford aimed for with Test Pattern’s choice of crew members, which had an effect not just on the end product, but on the entire production process. “I made sure that at the department head level, I was hiring people I was in community with and fully saw me as a person, and me them,” they say. “In some ways it made the experience more pleasurable.” That said, the shoot was still not without its incidents: “These were the types of things that in my experience often occur on a film set dominated by straight white men, that we're so accustomed to we sometimes don’t even notice it. I won’t go into it but what I will say is that it was not tolerated.”
Vital to the telling of the story were the lived experiences that Ford and their crew brought to set. “As it applies to the sensitive nature of this story, there were quite a few of us who have had our own experiences along the spectrum of assault, which means that we had to navigate our own internal re-processing of those experiences, which is hard to do when we’re constructing an experience of rape for a character.
“However, I think being able to share our own triggers and discomfort and context, when it came to Renesha’s experience, made the execution of it all the better. Again, it was a pleasure to be in community with such smart, talented and considerate women who each brought their own nuance to this film.”
* * *
Thinking about everything we’ve lived through by this point in 2021, and the heightened sensitivity and lowered mental health of film lovers worldwide, movies are carrying a pretty heavy burden right now: to, as Jane Fonda said at the Golden Globes, help us see through others’ eyes; also, to entertain or, at the very least, not upset us too much.
But to whom does film have a responsibility, really? Promising Young Woman’s writer-director Emerald Fennell, in an excellent interview with Vulture’s Angelica Jade Bastién, said that she was thinking of audiences when she crafted the upsetting conclusion.
What she was thinking was: a ‘happy’ ending for Cassie gets us no further forward as a society. Instead, Cassie’s shocking end “makes you feel a certain way, and it makes you want to talk about it. It makes you want to examine the film and the society that we live in. With a cathartic Hollywood ending, that’s not so much of a conversation, really. It’s a kind of empty catharsis.”
So let’s flip the question: what is our responsibility, as women and allies, towards celebrating audacious films about tricky subjects? The marvellous, avenging blockbusters that once sucked all the air out of film conversation are on pause, for now. Consider the space that this opens up for a different kind of approach to “must-see movies”. Spread the word about Test Pattern. Shout from the rooftops about It’s A Sin. Add Body of Water and Herself and Violation to your watchlists. And, make sure the right people are watching.
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Brittany S. Hall and Will Brill in ‘Test Pattern’.
I asked my interviewees: if they could choose one type of person they think should see Promising Young Woman, who would it be? Ford has not seen Fennell’s film, but “it feels good to have my film contribute to a larger discourse that is ever shifting, ever adding nuance”. They are very clear on who can learn the most from their own movie.
“A white man is featured so prominently in Test Pattern as a statement about how white people and men have a habit of centering themselves in the stories of others, prioritizing their experience and neglecting to recognize those on the margins. If Evan is triggering, he should be. If your feelings about Evan vacillate, it is by design.
“‘Allies’ across the spectrum are in a complicated dance around doing the ‘right thing’ and ‘showing up’ for those they are ostensibly seeking to support,” Ford continues. “Their constant battle is to remember that they need to be centering the needs of those they were never conditioned to center. Tricky stuff. Mistakes will be made. Mistakes must be owned. Sometimes reconciliation is required.”
It is telling that similar thoughts emerged from my other interviewees regarding Promising Young Woman’s ideal audience, despite the fact that none of them was in conversation with the others for this story. For that reason, as we come to the end of this small contribution to a very large, ongoing conversation, I’ve left their words intact.
White: I think it’s a great film for men.
Searles: I feel like the movie is very much pointed at cisgender heterosexual men.
Mayhew: Men.
White: We’re always warned about the alpha male with a massive ego, but we’re not warned about the beta male who reads great books, listens to great records, has great film recommendations. But he probably slyly undermines you in a completely different way. Anybody can be a predator.
Searles: The actors chosen to play these misogynist, rape culture-perpetuating men are actors we think of as nice guys.
White: We are so much more tolerant of a man knocking the woman over the head, dragging her down an alley and raping her, because we understand that. But rape culture is made up of millions of small things that enable the people who do it. We are more likely to be attacked in our own homes by men we love than a stranger in the street.
Mayhew: The onus should not fall on women to call this out.
Searles: It’s not just creeps, like the ones you see usually in these movies. It’s guys like you. What are you going to do to make sure you’re not like this?
Related content
Sex Monsters, Rape Revenge and Trauma: a work-in-progress list
Rape and Revenge: a list of films that fall into, and play with, the genre
Unconsenting Media: a search engine for sexual violence in broadcasting
Follow Ella on Letterboxd
If you need help or to talk to someone about concerns raised for you in this story, please first know that you are not alone. These are just a few of the many organizations and resources available, and their websites include more information.
US: RAINN (hotline 0800 656 HOPE); LGBT National Help Center; Pathways to Safety; Time’s Up.
Canada: Canadian Association of Sexual Assault Centers—contacts by province and territory
UK/Ireland: Mind; The Survivors Trust (hotline 08088 010818); Rape Crisis England and Wales
Europe: Rape Crisis Network Europe
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wickedshank · 3 years
Text
Whichever faded first
Thominho Week 2021・Day 4・Scars
The scars on their bodies formed a map of the journey they’d traveled together, and Minho could remember how he got each one. Sometimes he wished he could forget.
Also on AO3. Enjoy!
・・・・・・
After two years of living in the Glade with its artificial sky and another two weeks spent crossing the burned earth of the Scorch, the Gladers weren’t very used to the feeling of cool rain on their skin. Even now, a year into their lives in the Safe Haven, when it rained, some of them would stand out in the open until water soaked their clothes and dripped from their hair.
Minho was usually among the first in and one of the last out.
(Except for lightning storms. No one went out in a lightning storm.)
“Minho.”
He turned. Thomas stood in the open doorway to their shared hut. They’d both been out in the rain until just now, not saying a thing, simply enjoying the cool evening. Minho followed him inside.
“You’re going to catch a cold if you stay in those wet clothes,” Thomas warned.
Minho grinned. “If you want me to take my shirt off, all you have to do is ask.”
Thomas rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure, I’m just dying to see you shirtless.” As if to make a point, he tugged his own shirt over his head and hung it over the back of a chair. He went to pull a dry one from the drawer, but before he could put it on, two freezing hands gripped his shoulders.
“Minho!” he shrieked. Thomas tried to turn around but was held in place.
“What’s this?” Minho asked, his index finger moving gently over a tiny spot high on Thomas’s shoulder blade, like he’d been pricked with a needle. He found another one in his side, and one just beneath his ribcage.
“What?” Thomas tried to look over his shoulder. He could only turn far enough to see the one in his side as Minho pointed it out. “Oh, those. They’re from when I got Stung.”
Worst idea you’ve ever had, Minho thought. And that’s saying something. He let his fingers trace from one pinprick scar to the other. Thomas shivered a little under his touch, bringing a smile to Minho’s lips. He splayed his hand against Thomas’s back, thumb touching one of the marks. “It’s weird I’ve never noticed them before,” he said.
Thomas shrugged, his shoulder blade moving beneath Minho’s hand. “Maybe it’s because I’ve tanned a bit. Makes them stand out more.”
Minho hummed. He put his arms around Thomas’s neck to hug him from behind, pressed a kiss to Thomas’s shoulder, trailing up his neck. He didn’t want to remember those times in the Glade, those agonizing days Thomas had been going through the Changing. It was over. They were here now. They, at least, had made it out together.
Thomas’s fingers came up to curl around Minho’s forearm, running across the branching lines of his own scars there.
“Do you think we’ll ever,” Minho started to ask, when Thomas turned his head to kiss Minho’s arm, his bicep, whichever bit of skin he could reach.
“Yeah?” he prompted Minho to continue as he turned in his arms so they were face to face.
Minho’s eyes darted down to the nasty scar on Thomas’s shoulder, left by the rusty bullet that had almost killed him.
“Earth to Minho?”
He had to clear his throat. No point to dwell on the past. No way to make it undone, either. “You think we’ll ever forget how we got all these? Or any of these?”
Thomas cocked his head, not quite understanding.
Minho took his hand and walked back, leading them to sit on the edge of the bed. He breathed in deep as he got his thoughts in order. “Not the big ones, not the lightning strike or being attacked by Grievers, but…” He pulled up his leg to show the faintest scar on his kneecap. “Like, this one, I got tripping over a shuck root in the Glade. And this one”—he showed a line running across the palm of his left hand—“I cut myself helping out in the kitchens, the first month we were there. Frypan banned me after that. I—I’d expected them to disappear by now, but every time I look at these scars, I remember the Glade, the kitchens. All the different smells. Coming back from a long day of running the Maze and never finding an answer.”
It still weighed on him, sometimes, the years they spent running around like a bunch of lab rats, day in day out, with no end in sight.
He felt it in his body, too. The thrill of a feeling that he needed to be moving, that he couldn’t afford to sit still. Like the world might come crashing down if he wasn’t running.
They all had their own ghosts haunting them long after they’d escaped to their little piece of paradise. So sometimes he needed to rest, and have Thomas by his side to make sure that they both stayed put and took a break.
“I know what you mean,” Thomas said. He glanced at the scar on his shoulder before pressing his fingers to another one, a long line running down his lower arm. He didn’t explain where it’d come from. Instead, he pulled his legs up on the bed and turned toward Minho.
“How’d you get this one?” he asked, fingers featherlight against Minho’s collar bone.
“Angry Crank with a sharp knife, I think.”
“This one?” He tapped the back of Minho’s hand.
“Rope burn from the vines.”
Thomas touched a spot on the right side of his jaw. “This one?”
“Don’t laugh.”
“Can’t make any promises.”
Minho shoved his shoulder, but there was little force behind it. He sighed. “Falling out of a hammock when we first got here,” he admitted.
Thomas bit his cheek to keep from laughing. It didn’t work, a chuckle escaped him. “Why didn’t I know about that?” he asked.
There was no easy way to say why. Minho lifted his shoulders, avoiding. Then, eventually, “You weren’t really… here. Those first few days.” He could probably point to half a dozen scars on Thomas’s body that originated in the day of their final escape. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to remember them now.
“Oh,” was all Thomas said, and it was better left that way.
Some scars faded. Some would stay on their bodies long after they, somehow, managed to forget how they’d gotten them.
Some scars weren’t physical, either. Those, too, might fade with time and care. But not all.
Minho had come to accept that. All he could do was be there, and let Thomas link their fingers together. Let him press a kiss to Minho’s hand, to the scar on his collarbone.
Thomas gripped the hem of Minho’s shirt and pulled it over his head.
“I thought you didn’t care to see me shirtless,” Minho said as Thomas dropped it on the floor.
“I don’t particularly,” Thomas said. “But it feels unfair that I’m the only one without one on.” His eyes scanned the scars littering Minho’s torso.
Minho looked down and took inventory of his own. Cuts from where those Bulb Monsters had got him. Burns from when his clothes had been on fire in the lightning storm. But also a bruise, fresh and purple, on his ribs from where Thomas had accidentally elbowed him in the middle of the night. A plaster covered a nick on his thumb he’d gotten trying to help Gally saw some planks. Trying, because he was consequently banned from coming near any construction ever again.
(Minho had a terrible track record handling sharp tools.)
“I guess they’re not all bad memories,” he said.
Thomas had his eyes on the bruise. “I swear didn’t know I moved so much in my sleep.”
“Oh, I knew. Just always thought you were weaker.”
The soft punch to Minho’s shoulder did little to disprove that. “Keep talking like that, and you’re sleeping alone tonight.” Thomas stood to finally get a clean shirt.
“Oh no, how will I ever survive having a peaceful night’s sleep for once?”
Thomas not-so-accidentally threw said shirt in Minho’s face.
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opera-simplified · 4 years
Text
Opera Simplified #4: Così fan tutte
Così fan tutte, ossia La scuola degli amanti
(Thus Do All Women, or The School For Lovers)
Opera Simplified #4
The Basics:
Music: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Libretto: Lorenzo da Ponte
Premiere: January 26, 1790; Burgtheater, Vienna, Austria
Based on: No direct source material, although some say it is inspired by either elements of Ovid’s Metamorphoses (as a classics major and someone’s who’s read it...eh) or an incident that had supposedly recently taken place in Vienna.
Setting: Naples, the late 1700s.
Characters:
Fiordiligi, a woman from Ferrara who lives in Naples—soprano
Dorabella, her sister—mezzo-soprano
Despina, their maid—soprano
Ferrando, Dorabella’s boyfriend, a soldier—tenor
Guglielmo, Fiordiligi’s boyfriend, a soldier—bass
Don Alfonso, an old philosopher—bass
*Note: these voice parts are not set in stone; for instance, Despina is occasionally played by a mezzo-soprano and Guglielmo by a baritone.
Requested by: @harry-leroy.
The Opera, Very Simplified (new feature!): “Thus do all women.” Is that really true, or do you just have a raging case of sexism?
Another New Feature: In addition to the notes link provided at the end of each scene, if you click on an asterisk set, it will now also take you to the notes section for that scene.
The Opera:
Overture 
(and also here’s a version arranged for wind octet. I just thought it sounded cool.)
Act I:
Scene 1:
A café. Among the patrons are Ferrando, Guglielmo, and Don Alfonso, whom we meet in the middle of a conversation.
Ferrando: My Dorabella would NEVER cheat on me! She couldn’t—she’s as faithful as she is beautiful!
Guglielmo: Yeah! My Fiordiligi is like that too and she would also never cheat on me!
Don Alfonso: Well I’m older than both of you and I know more about life so I have full authority on this subject. Anyway, that was fun but let’s move on to other thi—
Ferrando and Guglielmo: NO YOU SAID OUR GIRLFRIENDS WOULD CHEAT ON US AND WE WANT PROOF
Don Alfonso: Eh, let’s forget the proof and that this conversation ever happ—
Ferrando and Guglielmo: NO WE WANT PROOF AND IF YOU WON’T GIVE IT THEN WE MUST ASK YOU TO DRAW YOUR SWORD AND ALSO WE CAN’T BE FRIENDS ANYMORE
Don Alfonso: (Geez, these people must be crazy for wanting to know.)
Ferrando and Guglielmo: HE WRONGED US HE MUST PAY
Guglielmo: Well then, Alfonso, draw your sword. Duel whichever of us you prefer.
Don Alfonso: I don’t fight duels except at the table and with words.
Ferrando: Either fight or tell us why you think our girlfriends would cheat on us.
Don Alfonso: hahaha how sweet and cute that you think otherwise hahaha
Ferrando: STOP JOKING I SWEAR TO GOD
Don Alfonso: Well, by the earth, I swear that I’m not joking. One question: what species are your lovers?
Ferrando and Guglielmo: What the hell kind of question is that? They’re women.
Don Alfonso: Do they have real flesh, bones, and skin? Do they eat like us? Really, are they goddesses or women?
Ferrando and Guglielmo: THEY’RE THE BEST WOMEN IN THE WORLD
Don Alfonso: They’re women! And you think they’ll be faithful to you? HAHAHA THAT’S HILARIOUS
You see, women’s faithfulness is like the phoenix: everyone tells stories about it and insists it exists, but where? No one knows! No one’s ever seen it!
Ferrando: THE PHOENIX IS DORABELLA
Guglielmo: IT’S FIORDILIGI
Don Alfonso: Correct answer: neither of them are, because it has never existed, it doesn’t exist, and it never will exist. Your belief is just some poetic nonsense.
Guglielmo: WELL YOU’RE JUST A FOOLISH OLD MAN
Don Alfonso: Very well, then, I’ll turn your question back on you: what proof do you have that they will remain faithful to you?
Ferrando: We’ve known them for practically forever…
Guglielmo: They’re noble in every sense…
Ferrando: They’re smart and high-minded…
Guglielmo: They’re very even-tempered and not impulsive…
Ferrando: They’re selfless…
Don Alfonso: And they cry and they sigh and they faint at the slightest provocation yadda yadda yadda. Lemme chuckle a bit, would you?
Ferrando: FOR THE LAST TIME STOP MAKING FUN OF US
Don Alfonso: WAIT!
What if, within 24 hours, I was able to give you concrete proof that they would cheat on you as quickly as any other women?
Ferrando and Guglielmo: THERE’S NO WAY
Don Alfonso: Very well. If you’re so sure, then let’s make a bet on it.
Ferrando and Guglielmo: Sure, let’s bet on it.
Don Alfonso: A hundred gold pieces to each of you.
Guglielmo: Make it a thousand.
Don Alfonso: Just a hundred.
Guglielmo: Fine.
Don Alfonso: Shake on it?
Ferrando: You have our word.
*They shake on it.*
Guglielmo: What are you gonna do with your hundred gold pieces?
Ferrando: I’M GONNA HIRE A BUNCH OF PEOPLE TO SERENADE DORABELLA BECAUSE APPARENTLY DESPITE BEING IN AN OPERA I CAN’T DO IT MYSELF
Guglielmo: Well I’M GONNA THROW A HUGE PARTY AND CELEBRATE VENUS
Don Alfonso: I hate to be that person (well, not really actually), but CAN I COME???
Ferrando and Guglielmo: Of course!
Ferrando, Guglielmo, and Don Alfonso: AND WE’LL ALL TOAST TO THE GOD OF LOVE
*They leave.*
Scene 2:
The garden of Fiordiligi and Dorabella’s house by the sea. Fiordiligi and Dorabella are gazing at the portraits of their lovers, which they keep in lockets.
Fiordiligi: Look, isn’t my boyfriend the cutest?
Dorabella: Sure, whatever, but look at my boyfriend’s eyes! They can shoot ARROWS OR EVEN FLAMES
Fiordiligi: He’s a warrior...a lover...he’s the perfect guy!
Dorabella: His face is both very sweet and very threatening but I don’t find that creepy at all. It’s just...so charming.
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: HOW HAPPY WE ARE AND IF WE EVER LOVE ANYONE ELSE MAY LOVE ITSELF MAKE US SUFFER BUT IT’S NOT LIKE THAT’S EVER GONNA HAPPEN
Fiordiligi: Y’know, I’m feeling a bit fiery...a bit ticklish in my veins...which is definitely not code for me being horny, but when Guglielmo comes, who knows what I’ll do to him, if you know what I mean…
Dorabella: Ha! Something new for you, I’d suppose? In any case, I’m sure we’ll both get married soon.
Fiordiligi: Here, give me your hand. Lemme try out my palm-reading skills.
*Dorabella gives Fiordiligi her hand.*
Yeah, looks like you’re right.
Dorabella: I’d like that!
Fiordiligi: Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind getting married soon.
Dorabella: Me neither, but they were already supposed to be here by now. What’s taking them so long?
*Don Alfonso enters.*
Fiordiligi: THERE THEY ARE
Dorabella: False alarm; it’s just Don Alfonso.
Fiordiligi: greeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeat oh hi Don Alfonso how are you doing today?
Don Alfonso: Ladies, my respects.
Dorabella: Uh...are you okay??? Why are you here by yourself??? Without our boyfriends??? You’re crying??? TELL US WHAT’S HAPPENING IT OBVIOUSLY HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH OUR BOYFRIENDS BECAUSE THERE’S NOTHING ELSE THAT MATTERS HERE
Fiordiligi: YEAH WHAT HAPPENED TO MY BOYFRIEND
Don Alfonso: Well, I’d like to say something, but I’m so upset I can’t get my voice out and I’m totally not just being a skilled actor like every basso buffo worth his salt has to be anyway what ever shall we do THERE’S BEEN A HUGE CATASTROPHE AND ALL YOUR LIVES ARE OVER SO I PITY THE FOOLS— I MEAN YOU YOUNG ADORABLE LOVERS
Fiordiligi: STOP BABBLING AND TELL US WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON BECAUSE THE SUSPENSE IS TOO MUCH TO BEAR
Don Alfonso: My dears, arm yourself with the only weapon a good woman can have (because obviously you women are too weak for weapons), fidelity. Your lovers have been called to war.
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO THEY’RE LEAVIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
Don Alfonso: I’m pretty sure your boyfriends are too scared to see you, but they’re willing to see you if they want—
Dorabella: WHERE ARE THEY
Don Alfonso: Come on out, Ferrando and Guglielmo!
*Ferrando and Guglielmo enter dressed in traveling clothes.*
Guglielmo: I don’t know if I can do this…
Ferrando: I can’t speak…
Don Alfonso: Remember, it’s in times like these, the worst possible times, that true heroes show their strength and manliness. You’re manly men! Act like it.
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE ALREADY HEARD THE NEWS SO JUST GO AHEAD AND LITERALLY STAB US IN THE HEARTS BECAUSE THAT’S TOTALLY NOT AN OVERREACTION BUT WE REALLY REALLY JUST LOVE YOU GUYS
Ferrando and Guglielmo: THIS ISN’T OUR FAULT AT ALL IT’S JUST FATE
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT LEAVING
Dorabella: I WILL TEAR OUT MY HEART FIRST
Fiordiligi: AND I WILL DIE AT YOUR FEET
Ferrando and Guglielmo: How do you like them apples, Alfonso?
Don Alfonso: Remember, the day is nowhere near done yet.
Everyone: FATE SUCKS HOW CAN WE LOVE LIFE WHEN THERE’S SO MUCH SUCK WHY DON’T WE ALL JUST DIE
You know, that whole exchange was great! Let’s do it again!
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT LEAVING
Dorabella: I WILL TEAR OUT MY HEART FIRST
Fiordiligi: AND I WILL DIE AT YOUR FEET
Ferrando and Guglielmo: How do you like them apples, Alfonso?
Don Alfonso: Remember, the day is nowhere near done yet.
Everyone: FATE SUCKS HOW CAN WE LOVE LIFE WHEN THERE’S SO MUCH SUCK WHY DON’T WE ALL JUST DIE
Guglielmo: nonono don’t cry my love!
Ferrando: don’t despair my love everything will be okay
Don Alfonso: At least let them cry and mourn. They have every reason to.
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE DON’T EVEN KNOW IF WE’LL EVER SEEN YOU AGAIN
*Fiordiligi and Dorabella embrace their respective lovers.*
Fiordiligi: Leave me this sword, would you? If fate is even more cruel, I’ll need it to do some dying…
Dorabella: well I’M so full of grief that I DON’T EVEN NEED A SWORD BECAUSE MY GRIEF WILL KILL ME ON ITS OWN
Ferrando and Guglielmo: Hey, hey, stop talking about death it’ll be okay and you’ll have peace as long as we’re alive!
LOVE PROTECT OUR SISTERS AND GIVE THEIR EYES PEACE BECAUSE YEAH AND MAY THE CRUEL STARS OF FATE NEVER TOUCH THEM AND MAY WE RETURN HAPPILY TO THEM SOON
Don Alfonso: hahaha how charming this little show is hahaha
*A drum roll is heard nearby from offstage.*
Ferrando: OH NO THAT’S THE DRUM ROLL THAT TAKES US AWAY FROM YOU
Don Alfonso: Well, here’s the boat.
Fiordiligi: I’M GONNA FAINT
Dorabella: well I’M GONNA DIE
*A military march is heard; a boat full of people comes onstage.*
Boat Passengers: MILITARY LIFE IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND AWESOME BECAUSE YOU’RE ALWAYS ON THE MOVE AND YOU SEE DIFFERENT PLACES AND DO DIFFERENT THINGS AND YOU DREAM OF WINNING BECAUSE ALL YOU DO IS WIN THERE’S SO MUCH WINNING YOU’LL GET TIRED OF WINNING ANYWAY BEING IN THE MILITARY IS SO LEGIT AND THAT’S OUR COMMERCIAL ANY QUESTIONS
Don Alfonso: Welp, time for you boys to answer the call of destiny, or well, more like duty I guess.
Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Ferrando and Guglielmo: I WUV YOU SO MUCH TIME FOR THE WATERWORKS
Ferrando and Guglielmo: EMBRACE US BEFORE WE GO
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE’RE GONNA DIE OF GRIEF
Fiordiligi: WRITE TO ME EVERY DAY
Dorabella: well WRITE TO ME TWICE A DAY
Fiordiligi: WHY DO YOU KEEP TRYING TO ONE-UP ME
Dorabella: I’M YOUR SISTER THAT’S WHAT I DO
Guglielmo: I’LL WRITE TO YOU EVERY DAY
Ferrando: YOU CAN COUNT ON ME MY LOVE
Don Alfonso: I’ll burst if I don’t laugh at the sheer absurdity of this.
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: BE FAITHFUL TO US
Ferrando and Guglielmo: (same goes for you)
Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Ferrando, and Guglielmo: FAREWELL FAREWELL MY HEART IS BWEAKING AND I WUV YOU SO MUCH FAREWELL FAREWELL FAREWELL
Don Alfonso: Seriously, how can you not laugh at this?
Boat Passengers: TIME TO DO OUR MILITARY COMMERCIAL AGAIN  
MILITARY LIFE IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND AWESOME BECAUSE YOU’RE ALWAYS ON THE MOVE AND YOU SEE DIFFERENT PLACES AND DO DIFFERENT THINGS AND YOU DREAM OF WINNING BECAUSE ALL YOU DO IS WIN THERE’S SO MUCH WINNING YOU’LL GET TIRED OF WINNING ANYWAY BEING IN THE MILITARY IS SO LEGIT AND THAT’S OUR COMMERCIAL ANY QUESTIONS
*During the above, Ferrando and Guglielmo get into the boat, which leaves.*
Dorabella: Where...where are they?
Don Alfonso: THEY LITERALLY JUST LEFT HOW DID YOU NOT SEE THAT
Dorabella: I think I was in a faint or something DON’T JUDGE ME
Don Alfonso: CHILL FOR FIVE SECONDS
Fiordiligi: THIS IS THE WORST DAY EVER
Don Alfonso: Take heart! Look, they’re waving to you! See?
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: Well, that makes us feel a little better…
HAVE A NICE TRIP
Fiordiligi: OMG THE BOAT IS LEAVING SO QUICKLY AND NOW I CAN’T SEE IT ANYMORE WELL I HOPE THAT HEAVEN LETS IT HAVE A GOOD VOYAGE
Dorabella: GOOD LUCK TO THEM ALL ESPECIALLY OUR BOYFRIENDS
Don Alfonso: I hope they stay safe. You know, they’re not just your boyfriends, but also my buddies.
Fiordiligi, Dorabella, and Don Alfonso: May the wind and waves be gentle and calm, and may everything go according to our wishes! **
*Fiordiligi and Dorabella leave.*
Don Alfonso: Yup, ‘basso buffo as good actor’ pays off yet again. I’ll meet my buddies at the place we agreed on. I have to do that quickly to set the plan in action as quickly as possible. All those mushy-gushy remarks and sad faces and tricks worked so well on them! They’ll fall easily—we all know women are emotionally unstable and will change at the drop of a hat or the change of an outfit. Oh, you foolish young men, gambling a hundred gold pieces for a woman…
How does that song go again? Oh yeah, it’s “how do you solve a problem like a womaaaaaaaaan? How can you catch a cloud and pin it doooooooooooown? How do you find a word that means ‘a womaaaaaaaaaan’? A flibbertigibbet, a will-o’-the-wisp, a clown? Many a thing you know you’d like to tell heeeeeeeeeeer, many a thing she ought to understaaaaaaaaand...but how do you make her stay, and listen to all you say? How do you keep a wave upon the saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand? Oh, how do you solve a problem like a womaaaaaaaaaaaaan? How can you hold a moonbeam in your haaaaaaaaaand?” 
Well, the answer is you can’t. A woman will never be faithful. And I’m a philosopher dude, so obviously I’m right.
*He leaves.*
Scene 3:
A room with three doors inside Fiordiligi and Dorabella’s house. Despina is preparing a tray of hot chocolate for the sisters.
Despina: Uggggggggggggggggggggggggh I HATE being a working-class maid. All I do is work work work and in the end I get nothing. It all goes to my bosses!
For example, this stupid hot chocolate the ladies insist I make them. I’ve been beating it for half an hour and smelling that glorious chocolatey smell and it makes me just want to gulp it down but I CAN’T because all of it is for the ladies and none of it is for me! Hey, have you ever thought that we servants have mouths and hungry bellies too? If you put us in a room with hot chocolate, do we not want to drink it? Screw capitalism.
Oh shoot, they’re coming!
*Fiordiligi and Dorabella run in.*
Your precious hot chocolate, ladies.
*Dorabella starts throwing stuff onto the ground.*
Uh...what are you doing? What happened?
Fiordiligi: I NEED TO FIND A SWORD IMMEDIATELY FOR REASONS UNRELATED TO MY NEWFOUND SUICIDAL WISHES WHERE IS THERE A SWORD
Dorabella: I NEED TO FIND POISON FOR SIMILARLY UNRELATED REASONS WHERE IS THERE POISON
Despina: Oh for heaven’s sake, uh…
Dorabella: YOU SHUT UP AND CLOSE ALL THE WINDOWS BECAUSE THEY’RE LETTING IN LIGHT AND AIR AND I NOW HATE LIGHT AND AIR AND MYSELF BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT GRIEF DOES TO YOU NO ONE CAN MOCK ME BECAUSE I WILL KILL THEM OR CONSOLE ME BECAUSE I’M BENT ON KILLING MYSELF SO LEAVE ME ALONE
I FEEL SO MUCH LONGING AND I DON’T WANT IT TO GO AWAY UNTIL I DIE BECAUSE THAT’S A SIGN OF MY TRUE LOVE AND I WANT TO DIE SO IF I’M STILL ALIVE I’LL MAKE THE FURIES REGRET IT WITH MY EVERY BREATH
Despina: So? What happened?
Fiordiligi: OUR LOVERS HAVE LEFT NAPLES
Despina: They’ll be back—
Dorabella: BUT WE CAN’T KNOW THAT FOR SURE
Despina: Why not? Where are they going?
Dorabella: THEY’VE BEEN CALLED TO THE BATTLEFIELD
Despina: Oh, so theeeeeeeeeeeeeey’ll be back like befoooooooooore they will fight the fight and win the wa—
Dorabella: SHUT UP
Despina: Hey, they’ll come back with medals and glory and stuff!
Dorabella: BUT THEY COULD ALSO DIE
Despina: Even better!
Fiordiligi: Excuse you?
Despina: These two guys die, there’s still lots of other fish out there in the sea that are exactly like them. You’ll find someone else to love. They’re all worth the same...because they’re all useless.
Dorabella: HEY DON’T DISS OUR BOYFRIENDS LIKE THAT
Despina: Ha! These high-minded ideas you have are just stupid tales for children.
You really think that men, that soldiers will be faithful to you? Don’t let them hear you babble like that! All men want is to get that bow-chicka-wow-wow pleasure from you and then they’ll hate you and leave you! You know how it goes: “how do you solve a problem like a maaaaaaaaan? How can you catch a cloud and pin it doooooooooooown? How do you find a word that means ‘a maaaaaaaaaan’? A flibbertigibbet, a will-o’-the-wisp, a clown? Many a thing you know you’d like to tell hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim, many a thing he ought to understaaaaaaaaand...but how do you make him stay, and listen to all you say? How do you keep a wave upon the saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand? Oh, how do you solve a problem like a maaaaaaaaaaaaan? How can you hold a moonbeam in your haaaaaaaaaand?”
The best solution to this is to simply do the same thing to them. Love the one you’re with! Love for your own pleasure! La la la la la la la la la la!
*They all leave. Shortly thereafter, Don Alfonso enters and has a look around.*
Don Alfonso: It’s so dark and dreary in here...I mean, the girls have every right to be completely and utterly depressed about this situation they’ve supposedly found themselves in. Now, while the two guys disguise themselves as I told them to, let’s think about this plan a little more...you know what I need to worry about? Despina. If she recognizes them, I could very well be toast. Hmm...maybe if there are any problems that arise, I can slip her a twenty or something, keep her quiet that way. Actually, it’d probably be safer to just let her know and slip her a bribe to preemptively keep her mouth shut. Good idea, me. I always have the best ideas.
Here’s her room. DESPINETTA!!!
Despina: MY NAME ISN’T DESPINETTA
Don Alfonso: IT’S MY PET NICKNAME FOR YOU DESPINETTA OPEN UP
Despina: WHO IS IT
*She opens the door and they recognize each other.*
Don Alfonso: Despina, I need you for something.
Despina: Well, I don’t need you for anything, so you can be on your merry way.
*Don Alfonso takes out a gold coin and shows it to her.*
Don Alfonso: Look, you know your mistresses’ boyfriends have been called to war.
Despina: Yeah, I know.
Don Alfonso: And you know that they haven’t taken it particularly well.
Despina: uggggggggggggggh tell me all about it
Don Alfonso: I know how to ease their pain. I have two handsome young men here, and perhaps you could introduce them...you know what I mean. You help me, and I’ll give you twenty gold coins. Deal?
Despina: Where are they?
Don Alfonso: Right outside. Can they come in?
Despina: Yes.
*Ferrando and Guglielmo come in, dressed in some of the worst disguises in the history of opera.* ***
Don Alfonso: My friends, this is my very pretty accomplice, Despinetta—
Despina: YOU KNOW THAT’S NOT MY NAME
Don Alfonso: Sheesh. Despina. All our success depends on her.
Ferrando and Guglielmo: You’re very pretty and we’re gonna kiss your hands and also please make the women we love love us.
Despina: These two look weird. Are they Wallachians or Turks? ****
Don Alfonso: Neither; they’re Albanians. Other than “weird”, how do they look?
Despina: I’m gonna say it: they’re ugly.
Ferrando, Guglielmo, and Don Alfonso: Well, she doesn’t recognize us, so we have nothing to worry about.
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: *from their rooms* HEY DESPINA
Don Alfonso: They’re probably coming. I leave this to you. I’m going to hide.
*He hides as Fiordiligi and Dorabella come out of their rooms.*
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WHAT ARE YOU DOING THERE WITH THOSE HORRIBLE PEOPLE MAKE THEM LEAVE IMMEDIATELY OR ELSE WE’LL PUNISH ALL THREE OF YOU
*Despina, Ferrando, and Guglielmo all kneel.*
Despina, Ferrando, and Guglielmo: FORGIVE US THESE TWO GUYS JUST REALLY LOVE YOU A LOT
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: SERIOUSLY WHAT IS THIS WHO BETRAYED US LIKE THIS
Despina: Betrayal? Never heard of her.
Despina, Ferrando, and Guglielmo: CALM DOWN FOR FIVE SECONDS
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE THINGS ARE GOING TO GET VERY UGLY VERY QUICKLY BECAUSE WE ARE VERY MUCH PO’D
Despina and Don Alfonso: Fiordiligi and Dorabella are starting to look a little sus.
Ferrando and Guglielmo: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY OUR GIRLFRIENDS ARE STILL FAITHFUL TO US
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE REALLY HOPE OUR BOYFRIENDS FORGIVE US BECAUSE WE’RE FAITHFUL AND WE’RE VERY PO’D ABOUT THESE STRANGE MEN IN OUR HOUSE
*Don Alfonso emerges from hiding and pretends to have just entered the house.*
Don Alfonso: WHAT’S GOING ON Y’ALL ARE BEING SUPER-LOUD DO YOU WANT TO WAKE THE WHOLE NEIGHBORHOOD WHAT’S HAPPENING
Dorabella: THERE ARE MEN IN OUR HOUSE
Don Alfonso: I fail to see the problem. What’s the harm in that?
Fiordiligi: What harm? WHAT HARM?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! TODAY?!?!?!?!?!?!?! AFTER WHAT’S HAPPENED?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
*Don Alfonso pretends to recognize Ferrando and Guglielmo.*
Don Alfonso: What?...I can’t believe this!...You’re here in Naples!...
(Back me up here.)
Ferrando and Guglielmo: OH HEY DON ALFONSO
*The three embrace.*
Don Alfonso: What a wonderful surprise!
Despina: ...You know them?
Don Alfonso: Do I know them? They’re only my best friends in the whole world, and they’ll be yours too!
Fiordiligi: And what are they doing in OUR HOUSE?!?!?!?!?!?!
Guglielmo: We’re only guilty of love…
Dorabella: wait WHAT now
Ferrando: LOVE HAS BROUGHT US HERE TO YOU
Guglielmo: WE FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU AT FIRST SIGHT—
Ferrando: SO WE CAME ALL THE WAY HERE TO YOU TO BEG YOU FOR MERCY—
Ferrando and Guglielmo: AND TO WIN YOUR HEARTS
Fiordiligi: HOW DARE YOU
Dorabella: What should we do?
Fiordiligi: YOU TWO BASTARDS LEAVE
*Despina apparently decides that she is one of the two bastards and leaves instead.*
DON’T TALK TO US DON’T TRY TO SEDUCE US BECAUSE WE MADE PLEDGES TO OUR LOVERS AND NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS WE’LL KEEP THEM UNTIL DEATH
OUR SPIRITS ARE AS STRONG AS ROCKS ARE AGAINST WIND AND STORMS WE’RE IN LOVE AND THAT’S NOT GONNA CHANGE UNTIL WE DIE SO TAKE THE HINT BECAUSE WE’RE FAITHFUL AND DON’T TRY TO PUSH IT OR MESS WITH MY HEAD THAT IS SUPPOSED TO BE RIDICULOUSLY AND AWESOMELY BOBBING UP AND DOWN WITH ALL THE LEAPS IN THIS SCORE *****
Ferrando and Guglielmo: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO DON’T LEAVE US
(Hey, Don Alfonso, what do you think about that?)
Don Alfonso: (You two, wait.)
Ladies, please don’t make this situation even more awkward for me.
Dorabella: Like we care. What are you even expecting?
Guglielmo: LOVE US OR ELSE WE’LL DIE BECAUSE THOSE ARE THE ONLY TWO OPTIONS BECAUSE THIS IS AN OPERA
Please, don’t be shy, just look at us lovingly once, or better yet, love us! AND THEN WE’LL LOVE YOU AND MAKE YOU VERY HAPPY BECAUSE WE’RE STRONG AND HANDSOME MANLY MEN LOOK AT OUR FEET AND OUR EYES AND TOUCH OUR NOSES AND LOOK AT OUR VERY BEAUTIFUL MUSTACHES THAT WE CALL OUR PLUMES OF LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE
*Fiordiligi and Dorabella roll their eyes at this and leave; as soon as they’re gone, Ferrando and Guglielmo start laughing their heads off.*
Don Alfonso: Why are you laughing?
Ferrando and Guglielmo: THIS IS SO FUNNY
Don Alfonso: At least laugh quietly.
Ferrando and Guglielmo: YOU CAN’T MAKE US
Don Alfonso: AT LEAST LAUGH QUIETLY
Ferrando and Guglielmo: YOU CAN’T MAKE US
Don Alfonso: IF THEY HEAR YOU THEN THE JIG IS UP AND YOU’LL NEVER KNOW IF THEY’RE TRULY FAITHFUL
Ferrando and Guglielmo: BUT WE DO AND THIS IS SO FUNNY THAT OUR SIDES ARE SPLITTING
Don Alfonso: Aww, they’re so charmingly stupid, but this’ll end badly for them.
You never really answered my question: why are you laughing?
Guglielmo: WE ALREADY TOLD YOU IT’S BECAUSE THIS IS HILARIOUS AND WE HAVE EVERY REASON TO
Ferrando: How much do you want to pay to call off the bet?
Guglielmo: Make him pay half.
Ferrando: Nah, just twenty-four gold pieces.
Don Alfonso: You poor suckers, come here and let me put my finger in your mouth.
Guglielmo: That’s gross and I can’t believe you still have the courage to open your own mouth.
Don Alfonso: We’ll talk again before this evening.
Ferrando: Whenever you want, we’ll talk.
Don Alfonso: Meanwhile, until the twenty-four hours are up, obey me and do not under any circumstances spill the beans.
Guglielmo: You can count on us. We’re disciplined soldiers, remember?
Don Alfonso: Go wait for me in the garden; I’ll catch up in a bit and give you your next instructions.
Guglielmo: When are we gonna eat??? I’m huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuungryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
Ferrando: If we wait, then dinner will taste even better.
In the meantime, all we need for refreshment is a sweet loving breath from our girlfriends because nothing nourishes the heart quite like that!
*Ferrando and Guglielmo leave; Despina returns.*
Don Alfonso: How do you think this’ll turn out?
Despina: I think it’ll go right according to plan. They’ll cry while I laugh with an unhealthy amount of schadenfreude because they’re stupid enough to be faithful at the cost of their own happiness. Love should be full of fun and happiness and pleasure and once it isn’t, I say out with the man!
I’ll wait for you in my room so we can plan. If you do everything I tell you, you will all win, and I’ll have the glory.
*They leave.*
Notes
Scene 4:
The garden from Scene 2, a little while later. Fiordiligi and Dorabella are sitting in the garden and brooding.
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: Our lives changed so quickly because when our boyfriends were with us everything was great BUT NOW THEY’RE GONE AND OUR LIVES ARE THE ACTUAL WORST AND OUR LIVES ARE SEAS FILLED WITH TORMENT
Ferrando and Guglielmo: *offstage* LET’S DIE BECAUSE IT SEEMS LIKE THE GIRLS WE LOVE DON’T LOVE US BACK AND INSTEAD THEY JUST WANT US TO DIE
Don Alfonso: *also offstage* But there’s still hope—OH GOD DON’T DO IT SERIOUSLY DON’T DO IT
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WHAT’S GOING ON
Ferrando and Guglielmo: LET US GO
Don Alfonso: NO WAIT
Ferrando and Guglielmo: LET US GO
Don Alfonso: SERIOUSLY NO WAIT
*Ferrando and Guglielmo, pursued by Don Alfonso, run onstage. The two of them are each carrying a vial filled with liquid.*
Ferrando and Guglielmo: ARSENIC WILL DELIVER US FROM THIS CRUEL SUFFERING
*They each down their vial and throw them away, then turn and see Fiordiligi and Dorabella.*
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: Wait, did they just take poison?
Don Alfonso: Yup! And in a few moments they’ll DIE
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: OUR HEARTS ARE FROZEN NOW
Ferrando and Guglielmo: COME HERE AND SEE WHAT YOU AND OUR LOVE FOR YOU HAVE CAUSED AND ALSO HAVE MERCY
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: OUR HEARTS ARE FROZEN NOW
Everyone: THE SUN IS DARK AND I’M LOSING COURAGE AND EVEN THOUGH I’M SINGING RIGHT NOW I’M GONNA SAY THAT I’M TOO TERRIFIED TO UTTER ANYTHING
*Ferrando and Guglielmo fall onto the ground.*
Don Alfonso: Since they’re literally dying, at least show them some pity!
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: SOMEONE COME HELP ANYBODY COME HERE RIGHT NOW DESPINAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Despina: *offstage* WHAT IS IT
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: DESPINAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Despina: ugggggggggggggggh
*She comes in.*
What? Welp, it looks like they’re dead or about to die. That’s a pity.
Don Alfonso: IT’S TRUE THEY POISONED THEMSELVES FOR LOVE
Despina: Well, help them!
Fiordiligi, Dorabella, and Don Alfonso: WHAT SHOULD WE DO
Despina: They’re still alive. Ladies, hold them up for a bit. Alfonso, you come with me to find a doctor and an antidote.
*They leave.*
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: THIS IS THE WORST THING EVER
Ferrando and Guglielmo: (This is the funniest thing ever!)
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WE’RE DYING HERE
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: They’re sighing!
Fiordiligi: WHAT SHOULD WE DO
Dorabella: I DON’T KNOW WHAT DO YOU THINK WE SHOULD DO
Fiordiligi: Well, we can’t abandon them!
Dorabella: They look very interesting…
Fiordiligi: We can move closer, y’know.
Dorabella: *holding Guglielmo* His head’s cold!
Fiordiligi: *holding Ferrando* THIS ONE’S HEAD IS COLDER
Dorabella: STOP TRYING TO ONE-UP ME
Fiordiligi: YOU’VE BEEN DOING IT TO ME THIS WHOLE ACT
Dorabella: What about his pulse?
Fiordiligi: I CAN’T FEEL IT
Dorabella: Even though it’s very slow, my guy here still has a pulse.
Fiordiligi: SEE THERE YOU DID IT AGAIN
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: IF HELP DOESN’T SHOW UP SOON THEN THEY’RE DONE FOR
Ferrando and Guglielmo: (Their resistance is down a bit; maybe they will take the bait?)
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE’LL WEEP FOR THEIR DEATHS
*Despina, disguised as a doctor, enters with Don Alfonso.*
Don Alfonso: Here, I got a doctor.
Ferrando and Guglielmo: (It’s Despina disguised; this is horrible!)
Despina: Salvete, amabiles bones puelles. **
Ferrando and Guglielmo: He speaks a language we don’t know! He must be really smart!
Despina: What do you speak? I can speak Greek and Arabic and Turkish and Vandalic and Swabian and Tatar and— ***
Don Alfonso: Do you speak Italian?
Despina: Sono in quest’opera; tu che ne pensi, idiota? ****
Don Alfonso: Great. Save the language talk for later. These two guys took poison. What can you do to save them?
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: YEAH WHAT CAN YOU DO
*Despina feels Ferrando and Guglielmo’s foreheads and hands.*
Despina: What poison is it, why’d they take it, was it hot or cold, was it small or large, and was it in one dose or several?
Don Alfonso: To answer in order: arsenic, love, I guess whatever the temperature is out here so probably hot because we’re in Naples, medium size, and in one big gulp. I told them not to do it!
Despina: Don’t worry; I can help them.
*She takes out a magnet.*
Fiordiligi, Dorabella, and Don Alfonso: ooh he has a fancy thing what is that thing
Despina: This is Mesmer’s famous magnet from Germany that’s been all the rage in France. *****
*She touches each of their heads with the magnet and then draws it along their bodies.*
Fiordiligi, Dorabella, and Don Alfonso: They’re shaking! THEY’RE GONNA HIT THEIR HEADS ON THE GROUND THAT’S REALLY DANGEROUS ACTUALLY
Despina: Hold them up.
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: *holding the men up* Ready!
Despina: Hold on tight and have courage. They’re fine now!
Fiordiligi, Dorabella, and Don Alfonso: THEY’RE RECOVERING THIS DOCTOR IS WORTH A FORTUNE
*Ferrando and Guglielmo, still dazed, look around and embrace Fiordiligi and Dorabella, kissing their hands.*
Ferrando and Guglielmo: Where are we?...Are we on Mount Olympus?...No, but you two are here and we love you…
Despina and Don Alfonso: Don’t worry; those are just after-effects of the poison.
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: That may be true but this is making us uncomfortable and insulting our honor!
Ferrando and Guglielmo: (This is the most hilarious thing ever!)
HAVE MERCY ON US
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE CAN’T RESIST
Ferrando and Guglielmo: AT LEAST LOOK AT US
Despina and Don Alfonso: Don’t worry; these after-effects will go away soon!
Ferrando and Guglielmo: (This is the most hilarious thing ever!)
HAVE MERCY ON US
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE CAN’T RESIST
Ferrando and Guglielmo: AT LEAST LOOK AT US
Despina and Don Alfonso: Don’t worry; these after-effects will go away soon!
Ferrando and Guglielmo: GIVE US JUST ONE KISS OR ELSE WE’LL ACTUALLY DIE FOR REALSIES THIS TIME
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: excuse me you want WHAT NOW
Despina and Don Alfonso: Just be nice and do it! You’ll be mean if you don’t!
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: THIS IS TOO MUCH TO ASK OF US BECAUSE WE ARE FAITHFUL AND LOYAL SO WE ARE VERY OUTRAGED
Ferrando, Guglielmo, Despina, and Don Alfonso: (THIS IS THE MOST HILARIOUS THING EVER AND THEIR ANGER IS THE FUNNIEST PART OF THIS WHOLE THING)
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE DON’T CARE IF YOU’RE LOVESTRUCK OR SUICIDAL OR POISONED OR WHATEVER JUST GO TO HELL AND YOU’LL BE SORRY IF WE GET EVEN MORE UPSET WITH YOU
Ferrando and Guglielmo: (Is their anger real or fake? I don’t want to know and I kinda don’t want to know. I don’t want that almost as much as I don’t want them to actually fall for it.)
Despina and Don Alfonso: (OH THEY’RE DEFINITELY GONNA FALL FOR IT AND FALL IN LOVE)
Notes
Act II:
Scene 1:
A little while after the end of Act I, in a room in Fiordiligi and Dorabella’s house. The sisters are talking with Despina.
Despina: ...You two are weird.
Fiordiligi: BUT WHATEVER SHALL WE DOOOOOOO
Despina: Whatever you want! You are human, right?
Look, even fifteen-year-old girls need to know what’s what, what’s good and bad. She needs to know how to flirt, charm them, fake-cry and sigh and whatever. She needs to pay attention to a hundred men at once but not in an “I’m afraid they’re stalking me so I need to be on guard” way and she needs to talk to every man with her eyes and lead them on, and she needs to know how to hide and how to lie and how to make people obey her like a QUEEN!
(I think they like this idea.)
LONG LIVE DESPINAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
*She leaves.*
Fiordiligi: Well, sis, what do you think?
Dorabella: She’s certainly a devilish one.
Fiordiligi: She’s INSANE! Should we take her advice? What about being faithful?
Dorabella: Our hearts will remain faithful. What’s wrong with enjoying ourselves a little instead of moping around? So: which of those little Narcissuses do you want? **
Fiordiligi: Well, which one do you want?
Dorabella: I’ve made up my mind. I’ll take the one with the brown hair; I think he’s the clever one.
Fiordiligi: I want to laugh and joke and have fun with the blond one.
Dorabella: I’ll joke around with my guy too!
Fiordiligi: I’ll imitate my guy’s sighs with my own!
Dorabella: He’ll say, “I’M DYING, MY LOVE”
Fiordiligi: He’ll call me his lovely treasure!
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: And I’ll be so amused and delighted!
Wait, hold on, let’s check to make sure we’re on the same page.
Dorabella: I’ll take the one with the brown hair; I think he’s the clever one.
Fiordiligi: I want to laugh and joke and have fun with the blond one.
*Don Alfonso enters.*
Don Alfonso: HEY COME TO THE GARDEN RIGHT NOW THERE’S SO MUCH FUN AND MUSIC AND MAGIC THERE IT’S LIKE AN AMUSEMENT PARK OR CONEY ISLAND OR SOMETHING ***
Dorabella: Ugh, what are you going on about?
Don Alfonso: You’ll see. Come with me!
*They leave.*
Scene 2:
Back at the garden. Ferrando and Guglielmo are in a boat with musicians; Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Despina, and Don Alfonso are in the garden.
Ferrando and Guglielmo: HEY BREEZES HELP US CARRY OUR SIGHS AND WOES TO OUR BELOVEDS BECAUSE THEY CAN TOTALLY DO THAT
Chorus: YEAH WHAT THEY SAID WE’RE JUST HERE FOR THE BACKUP FUN AND HOPEFULLY SOME SWEET SWEET CASH
*Ferrando and Guglielmo get flowers and come into the garden; Despina and Don Alfonso lead them to Fiordiligi and Dorabella, who are dumbstruck.*
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: What...what is this?
Despina: What? Cat got your tongue?
*The boat moves off.*
Ferrando: I’m shaking all over!
Guglielmo: I can’t move!
Don Alfonso: Be good girls; lead them on!
Fiordiligi: You two, speak!
Dorabella: Whatever you want.
Ferrando: Madame...
Guglielmo: Mesdames, really…
Ferrando: You talk.
Guglielmo: No, you talk.
*Don Alfonso takes Dorabella by the hand, and Despina does the same with Fiordiligi.*
Don Alfonso: ugh FINE if both of you insist on acting like nervous teenage girls then I’ll talk for you.
These trembling slaves want to ask your forgiveness for offending you but they only did it for a moment and now they feel bad and are silent…
Ferrando and Guglielmo: YEAH THEY’RE SILENT
Don Alfonso: Well, not anymore, but now they’ll leave you in peace.
Ferrando and Guglielmo: YEAH IN PEACE
Don Alfonso: YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE MY BACKUP SINGERS anyway they can’t have what they want but they’ll want what they can have
Ferrando and Guglielmo: YEAH THEY CAN’T HAVE WHAT THEY WANT BUT THEY’LL WANT WHAT THEY CAN HAVE
Don Alfonso: You’re just looking at us and laughing. At least answer!
Despina: Since we apparently have to do all the talking around here even though we’re like the third set of leads or whatever, I’ll answer for the girls.
Let’s leave the past in the past and break the bonds that chain us; give us your arms and let’s just enjoy life!
Despina and Don Alfonso: (Okay, let’s leave and see how this plays out; if the girls don’t fall for it now, they deserve all the respect in the world.)
*They leave. Guglielmo and Dorabella take each other’s arms and start walking; Fiordiligi and Ferrando start walking together, but neither takes the other’s arm.*
Fiordiligi: OH WHAT A BEAUTIFUL MOOOOOOOORNIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN’ OH WHAT A BEAUTIFUL DAAAAAAAAAAAAY
Ferrando: It’s a little warm, though, don’t you think?
Dorabella: Look at the trees!
Guglielmo: They’re very pretty indeed; they have more leaves than fruit!
Dorabella: ...well, duh.
Fiordiligi: The paths are pretty. You wanna go on a walk?
Ferrando: Anything for you, my love!
Fiordiligi: You’re too kind!
Ferrando: Guglielmo, here it comes!
Fiordiligi: What’d you say to him?
Ferrando: Uh…just told him to give her a good time.
*They stroll off together.*
Dorabella: Let’s stroll too!
Guglielmo: Sure. Wait, no!
Dorabella: What’s the matter?
Guglielmo: I feel so sick, like I’m gonna die!
Dorabella: (I’m not gonna fall for that.) That must just be the after-effects of the poison.
Guglielmo: (Is she joking or does she mean it?) Here, take this gift.
Dorabella: A little cut-out heart?
Guglielmo: Do you accept it?
Dorabella: Yes.
Guglielmo: (Oh, poor Ferrando!) YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY
I’ve given you my heart; now I want you to give me yours.
Dorabella: I’ll take yours but I won’t give you mine; I can’t because I don’t have it anymore!
Guglielmo: So what’s beating in your chest?
Dorabella: I could ask the very same about you.
Guglielmo: So what’s beating in your chest?
Dorabella: I could ask the very same about you.
Dorabella and Guglielmo: It’s my heart that went to you!
Guglielmo: *trying to put the heart in Dorabella’s locket to replace the portrait of Ferrando* Lemme put it here.
Dorabella: No, not there!
Guglielmo: I understand, you sly dog, and I’m okay with that wink wink.
*He gently turns her face away so she can’t see and swaps in the heart, removing the portrait.*
Dorabella: What are you doing?
Guglielmo: Don’t look now.
Dorabella: I have a bad feeling, like a volcano is about to explode…
Guglielmo: (Oh poor Ferrando, I can’t believe this is happening!) Now look.
Dorabella: At what?
Guglielmo: Just look! Could things be going any better?
Dorabella and Guglielmo: WE’VE GIVEN OUR HEARTS TO EACH OTHER THIS IS A HAPPY DAY AND WE FEEL SO DELIGHTFUL
*They go off together, arm in arm. Ferrando chases Fiordiligi onstage.*
Ferrando: WHY ARE YOU RUNNING AWAY FROM ME
Fiordiligi: I SAW AN ASP AND A HYDRA AND A BASILISK ****
Ferrando: I SEE YOU THINK ALL THOSE AWFUL CREATURES ARE ME DON’T YOU
Fiordiligi: YOU’RE RIGHT BECAUSE YOU JUST WANT TO MAKE IT SO I CAN’T HAVE ANY PEACE
Ferrando: I JUST WANNA MAKE YOU HAPPY
Fiordiligi: WELL YOU’RE VERY OBVIOUSLY NOT DOING THAT SO JUST STOP IT AND LEAVE ME ALONE
Ferrando: JUST LOOK AT ME WITH LOVE FOR ONE SECOND
Fiordiligi: LEAVE NOW
Ferrando: I’M NOT GONNA AS LONG AS YOU TREAT ME LIKE THIS EVEN THOUGH YOU’RE SIGHING
YOU CAN’T RESIST ME AT THE VERY LEAST YOU FEEL SYMPATHY FOR ME AND IT GIVES ME HOPE BECAUSE YOU’RE YIELDING BUT YOU SHUN ME SO GUESS I’LL DIE
*He leaves.*
Fiordiligi: HE’S LEAVING...wait!...no, let him go. He’s caused me too much trouble. THIS IS WHAT I GET FOR ENTERTAINING A NEW LOVER AND I DESERVE IT ONE HUNDRED PERCENT AND I’M RIGHT TO CONDEMN MYSELF AND I BURN WITH RAGE AND SUFFERING AND REMORSE AND REPENTANCE AND BETRAYAL AND A BUNCH OF OTHER STUFF BUT IT DEFINITELY IS NOT LOVE
My love, forgive me for straying! I still love you and I will always hide these strange new feelings! I will end this with my courage and fidelity and erase the memory of this stranger! Forgive me! I failed you and you deserve better! Forgive me!
*She leaves. Ferrando and Guglielmo enter.*
Ferrando: WE WON
Guglielmo: A double or a triple?
Ferrando: A QUINTUPLE BECAUSE FIORDILIGI DIDN’T FALL FOR IT
Guglielmo: Really?
Ferrando: OH YEAH SHE SCORNED ME AND FLED WHICH SHOWS HOW FAITHFUL AND AWESOME SHE IS
Guglielmo: THAT’S AWESOME GOOD FOR ALL OF US ESPECIALLY MY LOVELY LITTLE PENELOPE LEMME HUG YOU MY DEAR MERCURY *****
Ferrando: And what about Dorabella? Wait, actually don’t answer that. I know she would never betray me.
Guglielmo: Right! As a matter of fact, she gave me this!
*He shows Ferrando the portrait.*
Ferrando: GOD FUCKING DAMMIT THE LITTLE CHEATING BASTARD
*He turns to go.*
Guglielmo: WAIT WHERE ARE YOU GOING
Ferrando: IMMA TEAR HER HEART OUT AND GET REVENGE
Guglielmo: STOP
Ferrando: LET ME GO
Guglielmo: DO YOU REALLY WANT TO RUIN YOURSELF BECAUSE OF A WOMAN WHO ISN’T EVEN WORTH TWO CENTS
(I don’t want him being a Standard Foolish Tenor even though he just got played like one!)
Ferrando: AFTER EVERYTHING WE’VE BEEN THROUGH TOGETHER HOW COULD SHE CHEAT ON ME SO QUICKLY
Guglielmo: I don’t know, buddy. I really don’t know.
Ferrando: WHAT SHOULD I DO NOW HELP ME OUT HERE
Guglielmo: I’m afraid there’s no instruction manual for this.
Ferrando: AFTER JUST A FEW HOURS IT WASN’T EVEN A DAY
Guglielmo: I’m as shocked as you!
I can’t help but watch you women cheat and start to sympathize with their Jealous Boyfriends™. I love women, you know that, everyone knows that, I show that every day, but all this sleeping around you women do really messes with my vibe ngl. I’ve fought a thousand duels to defend you and defended you with my words only for you all to sleep around and ruin my vibe! You have so many natural treasures but you ruin them with all your sleeping around and you totally justify all these Jealous Boyfriends™.
*He leaves.*
Ferrando: I’M SO CONFUSED AND CONFLICTED THIS IS SO WEIRD THAT LITERALLY NO ONE KNOWS WHAT TO DO NOW ALFONSO’S GONNA MOCK ME FOR MY STUPIDITY BUT I’LL AVENGE MYSELF wait but can I forget her?
I’VE BEEN BETRAYED BUT I STILL ADORE HER AND LOVE SPEAKS ON HER BEHALF FOR SOME WEIRD REASON
*Don Alfonso enters and listens.*
I’VE BEEN BETRAYED BUT I STILL ADORE HER AND LOVE SPEAKS ON HER BEHALF FOR SOME WEIRD REASON
Don Alfonso: Bravo!!!
Ferrando: GO AWAY THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT
Don Alfonso: Calm down; I can take care of this. Fiordiligi is still faithful to Guglielmo but Dorabella has betrayed you.
Ferrando: I KNOW THAT AND I AM ASHAMED
*Guglielmo comes in.*
Guglielmo: But do you really think someone would betray someone like me? In all honesty, I think I’m worth a little more than you.
Don Alfonso: I have to agree.
Guglielmo: Give me fifty gold coins.
Don Alfonso: Very well, but first, we still have more in store.
Guglielmo: What?
Don Alfonso: The twenty-four hours are still not up. You swore to do what I told you to for all that time. There still may be more twists. Remember this old saying I came up with: don’t count your chickens before they hatch.
*They leave.*
Notes
Scene 3:
A room with a table in the sisters’ house; Dorabella and Despina are talking.
Despina: Now I see behind that facade of yours: you’re as worldly as they come!
Dorabella: I tried to resist, but he’s just so eloquent and well-mannered and no one could resist that even if they were made of stone—
*Fiordiligi storms in.*
Fiordiligi: THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT
Despina: What happened?
Dorabella: Do you have some strange illness?
Fiordiligi: I HAVE A CASE OF THE DEVIL AND MAY HE TAKE ALL THE PRINCIPALS IN THIS OPERA AND EVERYONE IN THE WORLD
Dorabella: Have you lost your MIND?!?!?!?!
Fiordiligi: IT’S WORSE THAN THAT I’M IN LOVE AND NOT ONLY WITH GUGLIELMO
Despina: That’s great news! Maybe you could be a little smarter than every Jealous Opera Character and do some polyamory!
Dorabella: So you like the blond one?
Fiordiligi: UNFORTUNATELY I GUESS SO
Despina: Good for you!
Dorabella: You have the blond one, I have the dark-haired one, and we’re both brides!
Fiordiligi: I can get over this.
Despina: No, you can’t.
Fiordiligi: Watch me.
Dorabella: Trust me; it’s better to just give in.
Love is a sneaky little bastard, a little thief or a serpent. It messes with us and makes us feel happy sometimes and horrible other times. If you give in, it’ll be nice, but if you try to fight it very bad things will happen. If you feel love, do what it asks of you. That’s what I’m gonna do and I suggest you do that too.
*Dorabella and Despina leave.*
Fiordiligi: EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE IS TRYING TO GET ME TO CHEAT BUT I WON’T I DON’T WANT TO SEE THAT GUY
*Guglielmo is listening outside the door with Ferrando and Don Alfonso.*
Guglielmo: You hear that? My Artemis is still good! **
Fiordiligi: But...wait! I have an idea! We still have some of our lovers’ uniforms here because...well, you know, wink wink...so we must be bold! DESPINA!
*Despina enters.*
Despina: WHAT IS IT
Fiordiligi: Take this key and don’t say anything to anyone. Go fetch two uniforms with hats and swords from the closet.
*Despina leaves with the key.*
I can fit in Ferrando’s clothes and Dorabella can fit in Guglielmo’s, and we can join our lovers and fight with them and even DIE WITH THEM!!!
*She takes off her hat.*
Go to the devil. I hate you, you stupid hat.
Guglielmo: See? She’s really in love with me!
*Despina brings back the outfits, puts them on the tables, and leaves.*
Fiordiligi: Yeah, hat, I’m not gonna put you back on until I’m with my lover again. I’ll put this soldier hat on and it’ll make me almost unrecognizable because that’s how hats work!
*She puts on one of the soldier hats.*
I can hardly recognize myself! In just a few moments I’ll be with my love and he’ll be so happy to see me again!
*Ferrando enters.*
Ferrando: AND I’LL DIE OF GRIEF WHEN THAT HAPPENS
Fiordiligi: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE I’VE BEEN BETRAYED GET OUT
*Ferrando takes a sword from the table.*
Ferrando: YOU WILL TAKE THIS SWORD AND STAB ME IN THE HEART WITH IT AND IF YOU CAN’T THEN I’LL HELP YOU DO IT
Fiordiligi: I’M TORMENTED ENOUGH WITHOUT YOU SO SHUT UP
Ferrando: She’s starting to give in…
Fiordiligi: I’m starting to give in…
Get up!
Ferrando: YOU THINK I’LL DO THAT AND YOU’RE WRONG
Fiordiligi: FOR MERCY’S SAKE WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME
Ferrando: For you to either love me or murder me.
Fiordiligi: I CAN’T HOLD OUT ANYMORE
Ferrando: C’MON GIVE IN MY LOVE
Fiordiligi: OH GOD WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO
Ferrando: Look at me, have mercy! If you want, I can be your husband, your lover, and so much more. Give in.
Fiordiligi: Very well; you may be cruel, but you’ve won. Do with me what you will.
*Don Alfonso has to physically restrain Guglielmo from bursting in.*
Fiordiligi and Ferrando: LET’S EMBRACE AND DROWN OUR SORROWS IN LOVE AND PLEASURE THAT’S AN AMAZING IDEA
*They leave together. Guglielmo and Don Alfonso enter.*
Guglielmo: WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED
Don Alfonso: FOR PETE’S SAKE SHUT UP
Guglielmo: I’LL TEAR OUT MY BEARD AND BANG MY CUCKOLD HORNS ON SOMETHING I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT MY FAITHFUL FIORDILIGI WOULD BE SUCH A SLUT AND A MURDERER AND A THIEF AND EVERY OTHER NOT-NICE NAME IN THE BOOK ***
Don Alfonso: You know what? You just need a moment to vent.
*Ferrando enters.*
Ferrando: Well?
Guglielmo: WHERE IS SHE
Ferrando: Who? Your Fiordiligi?
Guglielmo: THE LITTLE FIOR-DE-DEVIL MAY HE STRANGLE BOTH OF US
Ferrando: See? Now I’m the one who’s worth a little more.
Guglielmo: STOP IT
Now how do we punish them?
Don Alfonso: Marry them as they are. You thought Nature could make two faithful women just for you, but that’s not how this works. Now listen to this and learn: you’ll be very happy if you do.
Everyone accuses women of being unfaithful and I can excuse them for it—some say it’s vice, others say it’s just habit, and I say it’s necessary for women to live that they sleep around. If a lover is disappointed by this, that’s his own fault. Young, old, pretty, ugly, say it with me: thus do all women.
Ferrando, Guglielmo, and Don Alfonso: Thus do all women.
*Despina enters.*
Despina: Victory! They’ve agreed to marry you. Are you happy?
Ferrando, Guglielmo, and Don Alfonso: Very much so.
Despina: When Despina joins in on a plan, it always works.
*They all leave.*
Scene 4:
Evening. A large, well-decorated room in the sisters’ house with a table set for four. Despina and other servants are running around preparing everything for the double wedding.
Despina: HURRY UP EVERYONE MAKE SURE IT LOOKS GOOD THE MARRIAGES HAVE ALREADY BEEN ARRANGED AND WE DON’T HAVE MUCH TIME AND MUSICIANS TO YOUR PLACES
Servants: YEAH LET’S DO WHAT SHE SAID
*Don Alfonso comes in.*
Don Alfonso: BRAVI! This looks WONDERFUL! The men will pay you well. The two happy couples are coming now. Sing happy songs for them!
Despina and Don Alfonso: (This is the best comedy OF ALL TIME!!!)
*They leave through different doors. Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Ferrando, and Guglielmo enter.*
Chorus: BLESS THE HAPPY COUPLES MAY THEY BE HAPPY FOREVER AND MAY THEY MATE LIKE BIRDS AND HAVE BEAUTIFUL CHILDREN
Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Ferrando, and Guglielmo: THERE’S SUCH A PROMISE OF LOVE AND JOY IN THE AIR BECAUSE OUR BELOVED DESPINETTA GOT ALL THIS TOGETHER SING THAT HAPPY SONG FOR US AGAIN EVERYONE
Chorus: BLESS THE HAPPY COUPLES MAY THEY BE HAPPY FOREVER AND MAY THEY MATE LIKE BIRDS AND HAVE BEAUTIFUL CHILDREN
*Except for four servants, the chorus leaves.*
Ferrando and Guglielmo: EVERYTHING IS GREAT AND IT’S ALL RESPONDING TO OUR LOVE
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE’RE GETTING HAPPIER BY THE SECOND
Ferrando and Guglielmo: You’re so beautiful!
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: You’re so handsome!
Ferrando and Guglielmo: You have such pretty eyes!
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: You have such a handsome mouth!
Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Ferrando, and Guglielmo: LET’S TOAST AND DRINK AND TOAST TO THIS NEW LIFE
Fiordiligi, Dorabella, and Ferrando: AND LET’S DROWN ALL OUR CARES AND FORGET THE PAST IN THESE GLASSES
Guglielmo: (These horrible people need to drink poison.)
*Don Alfonso enters.*
Don Alfonso: THE NOTARY IS OUTSIDE WITH THE MARRIAGE CONTRACT
Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Ferrando, and Guglielmo: LET HIM IN
Don Alfonso: Here he is!
*Despina enters, disguised as a notary.*
Despina: Hello, this is Beccavivi, the very dignified notary. He will read out the contract with all the rules first while coughing and then while sitting down.
Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Ferrando, Guglielmo, and Don Alfonso: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY FOR MARRIAGE CONTRACTS AND REFERRING TO YOURSELF IN THE THIRD PERSON
Despina: According to this contract, Fiordiligi will marry Sempronio and Dorabella will marry Tizio. The women are sisters from Ferrara; the men are Albanian noblemen, and as dowry and counter-dowry…
Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Ferrando, and Guglielmo: YEAH YEAH WE KNOW LET’S GET ON WITH IT WE TRUST YOU HAND IT OVER
Despina and Don Alfonso: Bravo! Really!
*Don Alfonso has the contract in his hand when a drum can be heard offstage.*
Boat Passengers: REMEMBER US WE’RE GONNA DO OUR COMMERCIAL AGAIN HERE GOES
MILITARY LIFE IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND AWESOME BECAUSE YOU’RE ALWAYS ON THE MOVE AND YOU SEE DIFFERENT PLACES AND DO DIFFERENT THINGS
Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Despina, Ferrando, and Guglielmo: wait WHAT’S THAT
Don Alfonso: I’ll go look.
*He goes to the window.*
OH GOD IT’S HORRIBLE I’M TREMBLING AND FREEZING IT’S YOUR BOYFRIENDS
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: our WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
Don Alfonso: THEY’RE BACK AND THEY’RE ALREADY LANDING ONSHORE
Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Ferrando, and Guglielmo: WHAT IS GOING ON WHAT SHOULD WE DO
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: Leave as quickly as you can!
Despina and Don Alfonso: But what if they see them?
Ferrando and Guglielmo: But what if they see us?
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: Leave as quickly as you can!
Despina and Don Alfonso: But what if they see them?
Ferrando and Guglielmo: But what if they see us?
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE HIDE IN THERE
*Don Alfonso takes Despina into one room. Fiordiligi and Dorabella take Ferrando and Guglielmo into another room. Ferrando and Guglielmo slip out and leave.*
GOD HELP US
Don Alfonso: It’ll be okay.
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: GOD HELP US
Don Alfonso: CALM DOWN
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WHO WILL SAVE US FROM THIS
Don Alfonso: TRUST ME EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: IF THEY FIND OUT ABOUT THIS WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO US
*Ferrando and Guglielmo, no longer disguised, reenter.*
Ferrando and Guglielmo: WE’RE SAFE AND WE RETURN TO OUR FAITHFUL LOVERS IN ORDER TO REWARD THEIR FAITHFULNESS FAITHFULNESS FAITHFULNESS
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: OMG HOW THIS IS AMAZING BUT HOW ARE YOU HERE IT HASN’T EVEN BEEN TWENTY-FOUR HOURS SINCE YOU LEFT
Ferrando and Guglielmo: The King changed his mind and made an order so we’re back with you, our loves!
Guglielmo: Why aren’t you saying anything?
Ferrando: Why are you sad?
Don Alfonso: They’re so confused that they can’t speak!
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: I CAN’T TALK AND IT’LL BE A MIRACLE IF I DON’T DIE RIGHT NOW
Guglielmo: Let us put our trunk in this room.
*The servants bring in a trunk. Guglielmo helps them bring it into the room where Despina is hiding.*
WHY IS THERE A NOTARY HIDING IN HERE WHAT IS HE DOING HERE
Despina: IT’S JUST DESPINA IN DISGUISE I WAS JUST AT A COSTUME PARTY
Ferrando and Guglielmo: (Who else is as sly as her?)
Despina: (Who else is as sly as me?)
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: DESPINA?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! WHAT IS GOING ON HERE
*Don Alfonso drops the contract, which the women have signed.*
Don Alfonso: (Guys, I dropped the papers. Pick them up. Make a show of it.)
*Ferrando picks up the contract.*
Ferrando: What’s this?
Guglielmo: IT’S A MARRIAGE CONTRACT
Ferrando and Guglielmo: YOU SIGNED IT YOU’VE BETRAYED US YOU CAN’T HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDE YOUR LYIN’ EYEEEEEEEEEEEEEES
OH LET’S REVEAL THE WHOLE THING AND THEN THERE WILL BE BLOOD
*They start to go into the room with their disguises but the women stop them.*
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE’RE WORTHY OF DEATH SO PLEASE JUST KILL US BECAUSE WE DON’T DESERVE MERCY
Ferrando and Guglielmo: WHAT EVEN HAPPENED
Fiordiligi: ASK DON ALFONSO AND DESPINA
Don Alfonso: It’s all too true. The proof is in that room.
*He points to the room with the disguises; Ferrando and Guglielmo go in.*
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: I’M SO AFRAID WHY’D HE RAT US OUT LIKE THAT
*Ferrando and Guglielmo come out, wearing most of the pieces of their disguises.*
Ferrando: Lovely Fiordiligi, here is your Knight of Albania!
Guglielmo: My Dorabella, here is your portrait back!
Ferrando and Guglielmo: And a huge thank you to our magnetic doctor!
Fiordiligi, Dorabella, and Despina: wait WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
Ferrando, Guglielmo, and Don Alfonso: THEY ARE SHOOK
Fiordiligi, Dorabella, and Despina: I CAN’T BEAR THIS
Ferrando, Guglielmo, and Don Alfonso: THEY’RE GOING INSANE
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: *pointing to Don Alfonso* HE DECEIVED US BECAUSE HE’S AN ASSHOLE
Don Alfonso: Okay, yeah, I deceived you, but now your lovers are wiser, so that’s fine. All of you, be married! Let’s not talk about what just happened; just laugh like I have been since the beginning of this fine experiment.
Fiordiligi and Dorabella: If this is true, I’ll adore you forever, my love!
Ferrando and Guglielmo: I believe you; let’s not test that out.
Despina: THIS IS SO CONFUSING I’M SO ASHAMED BUT AT LEAST WE CAN CONTINUE LIVING AND HOPEFULLY WE CAN ALL BE HAPPY
Everyone: The moral of the story is that people should all take everything for the best and live by reason (even though no one ever does that in an opera)! The things that can make others weep make them laugh and in the middle of the craziness of this crazy little thing called life, they will find peace!
(And no, this totally isn’t tacked on!) ****
Notes
THE END
Up Next: Roméo et Juliette, by Charles François Gounod
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keiscait · 4 years
Note
Hey lovely! Your matchups sound super fun so can i get living room and bedroom? If you only want to do one that's okay with me! Or none at all🤗
My pronouns are she/her and I'm bisexual. In relationships romantically i can take a bit to open up due to severe anxiety and general forgetting to share things that are importance.
On that same note I'm super forgetful but i always make sure to note down important dates and set reminders so I'm ready! I like pda but hardly initiate since I'm super awkward when asking for affection or attention.
I often need someone who can help me take care of myself, since i either forget or get so stressed i sieze to function properly. I will forget to eat meals, and drink water, etc. I also regress on occassion so someone who's ready to help me out a bit here would be great.
In a sexual relationship I'm definitely a bottom, leaning towards brat but usually really sweet. I'm pretty shy about being intimate, and that plays into my praise kink.
Most things I'm willing to try, not really into anything too hardcore but most kinks to a mild extent are within my comfort range.
My hobbies are reading and writing, as well as baking! My zodiac sun and moon are both capricorn (despite often being told i seem more like a libra or pisces, until i ask questions) I'm a super curious soul too, i ask lots of questions all the time, especially when my partner is interested in something I don't know much about.
I tend to look for a nurturing partner who can help aid me along in rough times and enjoy the good ones with me when i want to explore. I also appreciate having a more dominant partner even when in public settings, since i often panic when asked simple questions and left to my own devices. Oh, and lots of down time at home together since I'm an introvert.
My hogwarts house is Hufflepuff! And i hope to take a medical career in my future so i can help out those who need it. I also want to explore the world! I'm multilingual and pick languages up super quick and well.
I'm 5'5, with red hair (dyed, similar to tendou) hazel eyes, my skin is superrrr pale (I can't use foundations, i have to either custom order it or use cheap white face paint to achieve a similar effect) I'm also pretty slim, with an athletic build. I often wear dark, puno types of makeup and fashion, and on the other 50% of the days i wear super soft clothing. I also have a lot of piercings, with snakebites, left eyebrow, doubles in each ear lobe and one cartilage piercing.
My taste in music is definitely in rock and metal, to the surprise of everyone around me. They all think I'm too shy and sweet for it xD
That's all! Have fun lovely!
-sunny ☀️
Hello, Sunny darling! You are MY FIRST EVER REQUEST so thank you so much and I hope you like it! Let’s head on over to the living room first, then we’ll make our way to the bedroom ٩(◕‿◕。)۶
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Here in the living room, I’ve invited over for you...
Ennoshita Chikara! (Runner up: Yaku Morisuke)
I think our wonderful leader of the 2nd years would be perfect for you. He’s stern when he needs to be, and has a naturally nurturing personality. He wants to bring out the best in the people he loves, and he’s capable of doing so in whichever way he can. He’s willing to step up to the plate, he’s reliable, observant, and protective.
- It doesn’t take Ennoshita too long to pick up on your non-verbal cues. He will learn your ups and downs, and sooner or later he will be able to predict them
- Expect this guy to be super understanding when it comes to your anxiety. If you ever get anxious, especially in public, he is bound to notice before it gets out of hand. I imagine if he starts seeing signs, like you tensing up, he’ll just grab your hand and give you a soft reassuring smile to make you feel at ease
- He’s responsible enough to get the 2nd years whipped into shape, so he’s capable of doing that for you when absolutely necessary, but will always make sure he does it in a gentle manner
- Remember when Coach Ukai was supposed to scold Yamaguchi about his serve? Expect that kind of protection from our darling junior captain as well. He’s super patient, and makes sure you are treated right by others too
- If it takes you a while to open up to the team, Ennoshita would surely try his best to make you feel comfortable, sometimes use his more dominant side to give you a little push to break out of your shell more, all while making sure that you aren’t overwhelmed by the situation
- Ennoshita understands THE HELL out of being anxious and withdrawing from situations (yes, I’m talking about that time he ran away). He will take the lessons he’s learned from then, and will help you through the tough times
- Your dreams to become a doctor? That AMAZES him. How can anyone be so selfless and so determined to succeed to help others? He believes in you so much and is so excited to be there to watch you turn your dreams into a reality. (manga spoiler, beware!: He’s also in the medical field - a physical therapist - so you guys would be a super duper power couple!!!)
~
The two of you stood on the porch of Daichi’s house, waiting to be let in. It was the 3rd year captain’s birthday, and your boyfriend, Ennoshita, thought it was about time you met the team.
“You’re tense,” he quietly said. You just looked at him before flashing a nervous smile. He wraps one arm around you and pulls you a little closer to him. “I’ve got you, it’ll be alright.”
Daichi opens the door, letting out all the noise coming from inside the house.
“HEYYY Ennoshita” he greets, which makes the rest of the team shout out a few greetings as well.
“Hi Daichi-san,” your boyfriend started, flashing his best smile. “This is y/n, my girlfriend.”
“Happy birthday, thank you so much for having me.”
The captain gives you a warm smile with a small bow, “We’ve been so excited to meet you, y/n. Please make yourself at home.”
The 3 of you proceed to where the rest of the team is hanging out. Ennoshita’s arm doesn’t leave your side, knowing that his warmth comforts you.
You make it to the living room, and had to hold your breath due to the amount of people present. Some of your nerves are quelled when the team greets you with warmth and excitement, instantly making you feel like you’re already part of the family. Once everything settles down, Ennoshita kisses the back of your hand, a reminder of how grateful he is that you’re here, with him, and all will be well as long as you two are together.
~
I hope you liked that! Let’s head on over to the bedroom real quick ٩(◕‿◕。)۶
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My darling, I think you and Ennoshita are a match made in absolute heaven, so I’ve asked him to come with us to the bedroom as well! (Runner up: Kageyama Tobio)
- I headcanon that Chikara isn’t super freaky in the sheets. I don’t think he would be the adventurous type when it comes to trying new things in the bedroom unless his partner brings it up
- If there is something that comes to mind that he wants to try out, he’ll sit you down and talk to you about it first before anything ever happens, especially if he knows you get anxious about certain things
- HOWEVER, I think he is p r e t t y dominant in bed
- His dominant side won’t come out on your first time, but he would still make sure everything is alright and is in control of the situation. He loves the feeling of being in control, and would full on melt if you tell him how good he is doing/making you feel
- Once you two get more comfortable sexually, that’s when he’ll want to explore
- I also feel like most of the things he wants to try out is stuff that will make YOU feel good
- Praise kink!!!!! both giving and receiving praise
- if you ever feel like being dom, he’d be SO game
-----------
That’s it for now, Sunny darling! I hope you liked this and thanks so much for trusting me with your matchup! Much love!
Thanks for stopping by! (ノ´ヮ`)ノ*: ・゚
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Text
A Father's Name
Side quest: A Father's Name
Characters involved: Finn Caldansen, Gyda Myrdotten, Master of the Hunt
A woman prepares bodies for sky burial at Stone-Bear Hold. Caldan Enversen's body should receive special rites; however, his son failed to complete them. As guests of the hold, the Inquisition may present the required offering as a gift.
(This quest can be initiated either by speaking with Gyda Myrdotten or Finn Caldansen. Speaking to Finn is optional, as the quest can be completed by handing the offering directly to the Master of the Hunt.)
(Talk to Finn.)
(If you approach Finn before speaking with Svarah.)
Finn: You're the Inquisitor, aren't you? I shouldn't keep you from meeting the thane.
(If you approach Finn after speaking with Svarah.)
Finn: Inquisitor, I'm honored by your visit. I'm Finn Cal... um, Finn Caldansen. Forgive me if I don't stand to greet you properly.
[1] Dialogue options:
Investigate: You're injured? [2]
General: You seem troubled. [3] (If you haven’t spoken to Gyda Myrdotten and didn’t learn that she is prepering Caldan Enversen’s body for a funeral. Otherwise, this option disappears.)
General: You can't complete the rites. [4] (Becomes available after speaking with Gyda Myrdotten.)
General: Goodbye. [5]
[2] Investigate: You're injured?
PC: How were you injured?
Finn: A storm blew up a few months back. The worst we've seen in a while. I was helping to secure the fishing boats. Einar nearly fell in. I caught him, but the current caught me. My leg got crushed against the rocks. It hasn't set properly. [Back to 1]
(Side note: Einar is one of the Avvar fishers who can be found near the boathouse by the lake.)
[3] General: You seem troubled.
PC: You seem troubled. Is it your injury?
Finn: In part. Gyda Myrdotten prepares my father's body for sky burial.
Party comments:
Cassandra: I’m sorry.
Varric: Well, shit.
Vivienne: You have my condolences.
Cole: Hurt and harrowed. Knotted and nameless. Can't be him, could never be him. But who am I?
Finn (in response to Cole): How did—yes.
(Continued.) Finn: (Sighs.) I knew it would be soon. I just... I miss him. [Back to 1]
[4] General: You can't complete the rites.
PC: I know about your father's burial—and the offering.
Finn: I tried. I dragged myself out of this cursed bed, but the pain… I collapsed. The huntmaster found me and dragged me back. Said we didn't need another dead man. [5]
[5] Subsequent dialogue options:
General: I'll find the offering. [6]
General: Is this worth dying for? [7]
General: You're lucky he found you. [8]
[6] General: I'll find the offering.
PC: I'm told I can make the offering as a gift for the hold. I'll try to do so for your father.
Finn: He won't be my father much longer. [Go to 9 or 10, depending on whether you’ve learned what losing one’s name means to the Avvar.]
[9] PC: What do you mean? [Go to 11]
[10] PC: The loss of your name…
Finn: It doesn't matter. [Go to 13]
[7] General: Is this worth dying for?
PC: If your father were still here, would he not agree?
Finn: He won't be my father much longer but... yes. [Go to 9 or 10, depending on whether you’ve learned what losing one’s name means to the Avvar.]
[9] PC: What do you mean? [Go to 11]
[10] PC: The loss of your name…
Finn: It doesn't matter. [Go to 13]
[8] General: You're lucky he found you.
PC: You're lucky he found you before that was the case. [Go to 11 or 12, depending on whether you’ve learned what losing one’s name means to the Avvar.]
[11] Finn: I can't make the offering. When the sky burial's complete, I'll lose the right to bear my father's name.
Party comments:
Sera: Wait, so he does this or he's the wrong kind of elf?
PC (in response to Sera): What?
Sera: Never mind. You help.
(Side note: this reaction from Sera can occur either when speaking with Finn or the Master of the Hunt about the loss of a name, whichever conversation happens first.)
[Go to 13]
[12] PC: I know it means the loss of your name, but… [13]
[13] Finn: Whether or not he's my father, I still love him. I would not see his soul severed from the earth, if it's meant to return. If you can make a gift of the offering... there's no way I could repay you. [Back to 1]
[5] General: Goodbye.
PC: I’ll let you rest.
Finn: Lady keep you. [Exits the conversation]
(Speak with Gyda Myrdotten and the Master of the Hunt if you haven’t already.)
(Talk to Gyda about Caldan’s funeral.)
Gyda: Be welcome, Inquisitor, though I fear I've time for little more than a greeting. I must prepare these souls for their greater journey—particularly those who depart without the reverence due. Their way is often hardest. [14]
[14] Dialogue options:
Investigate: What are the proper rites? [15]
General: Is there a problem? [16]
General: Caldan’s son is injured. [17] (Becomes available after following the dialogue branch [16] “Is there a problem?”, provided that you already spoke to Finn.)
General: Goodbye. [18]
[15] Investigate: What are the proper rites?
PC: I'm not familiar with Avvar funerals. May I ask what proper rites entail?
Gyda: When the time comes, we are given sky burials. For most, the body is laid out, and prayers given. When the birds come, they carry the soul to the Lady of the Skies. The body, unneeded, is gone. [Go to 19 or back to 14]
[19] Special: You said “for most.”
PC: For most?
Gyda: Some souls—such as Caldan's—are chosen to return. The augur reads the signs at birth. It is a rare honor. In order to return, an offering is made to Korth the Mountain-Father and buried beneath the body. A piece of the soul thus remains, allowing the rest to return to this world and be reborn. [Back to 14]
[16] General: Is there a problem?
PC: Will someone not be given proper rites?
Gyda: Caldan Enversen is one of the few whose soul may return. Blood-kin must make an offering to the huntmaster, who prepares it. Or so it should be. Caldan's son, Finn, has failed in this duty. But then... there's you.
PC: Me?
Gyda: You're a guest of our hold. A gift from you cannot be refused—even an offering for Caldan. I cannot dictate the nature of a gift, but if my suggestion appeals to you, speak to the huntmaster. [Back to 14]
[17] General: Caldan’s son is injured.
PC: Caldan's son is injured. It's not his fault he can't make the offering.
Gyda: As disappointing as that may be, it is not my place to ignore the gods' laws on a whim. I honor them—in word and spirit, Inquisitor. [Go to 20 or back to 14]
[20] Special: You offered an alternative.
PC: You suggested a way around tradition by letting me make the offering?
Gyda: The spirits have seen Finn fail. To undo it may be to undo their will. A gift from another does not bear this weight. Caldan's soul could travel easily. [Back to 14]
[18] General: Goodbye.
PC: I should be off.
Gyda: Lady keep you. [Exits the conversation]
(Talk to the Master of the Hunt about Caldan’s funeral.)
Dialogue options:
General: About Caldan’s offering… [21]
[21] General: About Caldan’s offering…
PC: I spoke to the woman preparing bodies for funeral. She said I might make an offering. For Caldan.
Master of the Hunt: How would... as a gift! Sly woman. In that case, I'll accept an offering from the hand that gives it. Tradition says the offering's made to Korth. Only creatures who touch the gods' realm will do. I'll mark where some were last spotted. It'd be an unmatched gift, lowlander. I still pity Caldan's son though... losing his father's name. [Go to 22]
[22] Special: His name?
PC: What do you mean?
Master of the Hunt: Finn failed to complete the rites. That'll see him disowned when the burial's complete.
Party comments:
Sera: Wait, so he does this or he's the wrong kind of elf?
PC (in response to Sera): What?
Sera: Never mind. You help.
Master of the Hunt: He's fatherless whether you do this or not, Inquisitor. Seeing it done will give him some peace, I imagine.
(Search for the Fade-touched creatures in the Basin.)
(After killing one of the Fade-touched beasts.)
PC: One of the animals the huntmaster described.
Party comments:
Dorian: Strange creature—not like others we've seen. Apart from wanting to eat us. Fascinating. I suspect it came into contact with the Fade.
Cole: It's not like the others. It touched something larger, left itself pale.
Solas: A unique animal. Certainly unlike others in the Basin. It often traveled where the Veil is thin. Many creatures avoid such places.
Vivienne: A unique animal. Unlike others we've encountered. Many creatures avoid places where the Veil is thin. I suspect this was an exception.
(If no companion makes a comment.)
PC: This creature... it's different from others in the Basin.
(After killing the three Fade-touched beasts needed for the offering.)
PC: This should be enough for the offering.
Party comments:
First comment:
Sera: So give it to the hold and make Finn's life shit, or give it to Finn. We help him. Not asking. Do it.
Blackwall: Caldan's son has lost enough. We shouldn't allow him to lose his name. Give it to Finn.
Varric: The huntmaster said he'd accept a gift from the hand that gave it—let Finn do it.
Iron Bull: No one said a gift to the hold had to include everyone. Could be a gift for someone's son.
Cole: The hold is a place, but also the people in it. Like Finn. If he gave the offering, he will hurt, but less.
Second comment:
Vivienne: We've been permitted to bend tradition. It may be best to tread carefully.
Dorian: Bending the rules further than what's already allowed? Not to sound unkind, but we don't want to upset the hold.
Cassandra: Kind though that may be, it bends the laws of their tradition. It's... something to consider.
Solas: A generous thought that bends the laws of their tradition. Whether the Avvar—or their spirits—would see that as an act of kindness or disrespect is hard to say.
(Return to the Hold when you killed three Fade-touched beasts. You can hand the offering to Finn or to the Master of the Hunt.)
(If you decide to hand the offering to the Master of the Hunt.)
Dialogue options:
General: I have the offering.
General: I have the offering.
PC: I have the offering for Caldan Enversen.
Master of the Hunt: I'll see it properly prepared and sent to Gyda. She'll be making the final preparations soon, I imagine.
Party comments:
Vivienne: In times of crisis, too many die without proper rites or prayers. This was kindly done, my dear.
Blackwall: Won't be easy on the son. He's lost more than he should.
Master of the Hun: Finn Caldansen's a good lad. His father was always proud of him. Still would be.
(If you decide to hand the offering to Finn.)
Dialogue options:
General: Here. Take the offering.
General: Here. Take the offering.
PC: Here—an offering for your father. From you.
Finn: Inquisitor, I can't.
PC: Consider my gift to the hold a gift to you. Though perhaps don't spread that around.
Finn: But the huntmaster—
PC: Said he'd accept an offering from the hand that gave it.
Finn: I... I don't know what to say.
Party comments:
Cole: Say the words he would want: "Fly to the Lady in peace, and come back soon."
Varric: Just take care of yourself.
Sera: Say what they want, and you can belong. But maybe when you figure that threatening you was shit, come look for a Jenny.
Finn: Thank you.
(Return to Gyda.)
(If the offering was given to Finn.)
Gyda: I'm told our huntmaster prepares an offering from Finn Caldansen. Nothing more's been said. I will only thank you for paying hospitality to an invalid. I must complete the preparations. A strange turn of events may not make Caldan's journey any easier. The gods measure both outcome and the actions—or deceptions—behind it.
(If the offering was given directly to the Master of the Hunt.)
Gyda: I understand our huntmaster prepares Caldan Enversen's offering as we speak. This gift is beyond worth. You have my thanks, Inquisitor. I must complete the preparations.
[The quest ends.]
(If you reapproach Finn after handing the offering directly to the Master of the Hunt.)
Finn: The offering will be prepared for burial. My father... no, I'm only Finn. Still, I rest easy knowing Caldan's soul will journey well. Thank you, Inquisitor.
(If you reapproach Finn after handing the offering to him.)
Finn: Inquisitor, you're always welcome in my home.
(If you reapproach Finn after freeing Hakkon.)
Finn: You killed Hakkon Wintersbreath? The hold breathes easier now.
(If you reapproach Finn after receiving the legend-mark.)
Finn: "First-Thaw." You'll be remembered in our legends now. Not many lowlanders are.
2 notes · View notes
moist-astronaut · 4 years
Text
things my friends and I have said over the last year
“I’m verbally illiterate” “Isn’t that called dyslexia”
“I’m going to chemistry and I’m gonna light myself on fire” “No” “Damnit let me burn like the witch I am!”
“Don’t worry it’s not anti-Christ it’s just anti-government”
“I’ve been getting migraines everyday and I’m considering chopping my head off” “But that would kill you” “Two birds one stone!!”
“I swear to god I will hug you” “My house is 5 miles away and my doors are locked” “Your locks are FEABLE”
*writing an email* “Bitch comma”
“Ok but I could be a top” *laughing* “What I totally could be!” *laughing and crying for literally 6 minutes straight*
*on a group call, friends cat misha walks into the room* “Tell misha I would live and die for her, whichever she prefers” “She says thank you” *cat noises*
*joins discord vioce chat at 11:26 pm* “You guys are gae but I love you” “Thank you saeren very cool” “Goodnight” *leaves chat at 11:28pm*
“Jake jake jake jjjake -j-jaaake hey jake” “W H A T” “Can I eat your pens” “I literally have a restraining order against you”
“I’m educatn’t”
“Me calling you to dumb to be a slytherin is payback for you leaving multiple handprint bruises on my legs” “It’s not my fault your skin is weak”
“He’s rolling so that we can walk” *rolling in the grass and collecting leaves on his jacket* “I’m rolling for your sins”
“There are 7 of us so we can each be a deadly sin” “I wanna be Ross” “You mean wrath?” “No that dude from Friends”
“Ok but other than his strict attraction to women, his multiple wives, his hatred of gay people, and the fact that he is dead, what is standing between me and Joseph Smith the All American Hottie from being happy together”
“Consider: Mullet” “No”
“I do my homework while loudly eating a pop tart asmr”
“No no listen, he’s my brother, he’s a bastard of my dynasty…I might just ransom him off”
“These Norwegian bastards indroduced a fucking PLUAGE to my COUNTRY”
“Ooooo meth”
“Half of my life is me resisting the urge to sing the zaboomafoo themesong, the other half is me actually singing the zaboomafoo themesong. So either way my entire life revolves around zaboomafoo.”
“I just don’t think I would hire a gay man-wait no I’m not homophobic”
*chucks half a gallon of milk in a gas station* “-ah- got milk?”
“Gimme your sternum boy”
“Nooooooo he stole my sternum!!!” (Side note these were two separate occasions)
*being force fed milk duds* “No!! This is the worst way to die!!”
“Hey babe come over I have a hammock and a heated blanket”
“Be afraid, be prepared- IN THE WORDS OF SCAR”
“Stress eating stress gummies Stress eating stress gummies Stress eating stress gummies stress eating-”
“I thought to myself ‘Y’know if I die today this is how I want to be remembered- a leather skirt and leg warmers’”
“I think I’m telling you to go to sleep” “You’re gonna have make me” “I can’t tell if this is cry for help or flirting” “Yes”
“This is at best cannibalism and at worst being straight”
“Oh look Percy Jackson’s here now, ooh they replaced every character’s face with Mr. Bean. I hate it”
“You can’t be mean to me! I’m gay AND a woman! That’s a hate crime!” “Yeah well I’m brown and Muslim! Square the fuck up bitch!”
“Babe it’s not very metal to be afraid of your hair dresser” “It’s not very metal to have a hair dresser and yet here we are” “It’s fine you’re into glam metal”
“Hey augie, got any grrrrrrapes?” “I’m doing IXL :(“
“Can I come?” “No” “What if I bring watermelon?” “You can come, leave the watermelon, then leave” “:(“
“What in the jersey shore”
“Rad’nt”
“Ok but consider: Mullet-hawk” “I can and will divorce you”
“Dee-vorce 👏 Just to 👏 re-vorce 👏 👏 “
“Ah yes, that’s why I’m fat…for combat reasons…”
“You fool I consent!”
“My Boston fern is being a bitch but that’s because it’s winter and that’s BITCH season”
“You walk through the rest of the house and it’s like ‘ooo witchy and aesthetic’ then they’ll get to the guest room and it’ll just be a tacky twink Fever dream”
“Who needs a scalp”
“HeHe, sexing”
“Council has decided, your vibes are rancid (and not the band)”
“You’re never to young to hate women”
“Look at me I did the dishes I’m a 1950s housewife with a strangely new jersey accent and affinity for lesbianism”
“Well look who has the table now”
"contrary to popular belief, fuck you"
"There's nothing here that requires whisking, i'm just problematic"
"If you could go anywhere in the world with two people, who would you choose?" “New Orleans!”
"So he proceeded to bite me on the butt...like, really, really hard."
“I don’t cheat, I win. It’s not cheating if it’s consensual.”
“My mouth, my choice”
“Do you like my ombré of a tan"
“Who’s the cutest in the chat right now then?” “It’s Paige!” “No, it’s obviously Augie.” (paige's boyfriend)-said by a straight man
“Francis is just a one and done.”
“Would you ever have a threesome?” “...yes...” *To Francis* “Sure!”
“How do you feel about anal sex?”
“Of the people in this room, who would you most want to make out with?” “Augie” “The answer is yes, but only if it’s 6 feet apart.”
“Square, flat, and overcooked.”
“The virus would be over if everyone would breathe underwater for 5 minutes.”
“I have daddy issues, but not with my father.”
“You’re a ladies man but you have two boyfriends.”
“That means lesbian in sign language” “No, that means fuck boy in American”
“I’m like a parasite, you can’t get rid of me. I’m here forever.”
“You’re like my long term hit man”
“Is it Jake?” “No, why would the evil Russian man be Jake?” “Because he would never hire a gay man and you don’t look like a gay man”
“Jake is homophonic, Augie is racist, and Francis is a woman hater!”
"Grew a korean radish, 1 star"
"I've got more cause i'm a rich boy, and by that i mean my father sometimes buys avocados. And that's on what? Upper middle class"
"Tell your good for nothing boyfriend to stay away from my mom"
"It's not inciting violence it's just ~inspiring it~ "
"Listen bitch just because you have avacados and a roomba doesn't make you better then me"
"i would totally let narthex ruin my life. and that's on what? daddy issues and bisexuality"
"who is titty"
"how is he racist" "he hates the french and russians right?" "don't forget italians" "that's just self loathing"
"This is the last time i wear a thong- it's for educational purposes"
"babe come over i'm a burrito"
"he put bread with milk. luckily he passed away"
"you touched my wiener!" "you offered it!"
"foot'nt"
"i took a shower and realized the floor doesn't bounce"
"i love ass whoooaaaaaa i meant cassie"
"Rosalie you're the deciding vote. Be decisive." "Dude i'm bisexual and a gemini. what're you talking about?"
"Okay so to recap: jake is homophobic, augie is racist, francis is a woman hater, and now paige is a bunny abuser?"
"Just bring a watermelon keychain and it'll be fine" "Whooaaaa i'm gonna need a big key then"
"If you were blind what would you even see"
Post Traumatic Youth, plus D for danny's disorder"
"i think she's past the phase where she likes people just because they're russian"
"francine is a lesbian, but only during quarantine"
"don't be a home wrecker!" "i can't help it!"
"we are not doing coed tents" "i wanted to go purple-ing though"
"if it's not perfect i'm gonna through hands" "with who" "i don't know, the CEO of stupid"
"don't make me feel guilty for bullying you"
"it doesn't look very cash money cool but okay"
"slinky cat" (ferret)
"The pond behind my house didn't freeze all the way through this winter, so i couldn't go ice skating" "okay, so i have an idea. we can go to walmart and get-" "ANTI FREEZE!" "well, yes- wait, no. No, the more i think about that definitely no."
"The amish will win, the amish will prevail" "the amish will conquer us all!"
"He do be kinda mafia doh"
"i'm being sneaky sneak. stairs go creaky creak. and i need. DRUGZ"
"brain on shutdown, power saving mode"
"Somebody go tip her, she's dancing like a stripper" "thatd be nice- oh wait no!"
"fellas, is it gay to lick your homies eyeball?"
"it's not racist if you're only targeting one group of people" "that literally racism" "but what if they're french"
"i'm not racist yet but the option is available, and it's good to have options"
"they don't call me Mr. Steal Yo Boy for nothing!" -a straight man who has a girlfriend
"i think he has a bad habit of not dating girls"
"kinda hot tho 🥵 in a Santa Claus kinda way...hoe hoe hoe"
"i'll be your hot jacuzzi bubble dealer"
"when deceit and doubt fills you up, you cleanse your mind through creative activities, such as making organic soap"
"friendly reminder #4: you're never to old to eat a freezie-pop"
"sorry i'm just nervous" Chinese Teacher: (Waving her hand in front of her face) “Just pretend I’m cabbage.”
"me when my dads name is publicly broadcasted on the radio for his 14 felonies and assorted war crimes"
"<@!523669420435046401> I sentence you to a solid nine by the banhammer. For your crimes against Humanity, God, Satan, and Matt Frank. See you in hell."
"Danny, just because you're playing *Just Cause* doesn't mean you need to Just Cause our friendship!"
"Silly Matt! You fell for the ole’ Heimlich maneuver!”
"i got a bunch of new shirts over quarantine" "you would"
"Ok, there's a 32 year old doctor in new Jersey dying right now" "Yeah, but to be fair everyone in new jersey has a pre-existing condition"
“This is the longest period of time we’ve had without a Nintendo direct” “Maybe they’re gonna make a Nintendo indirect?”
"you’re looking extra white today.” "thanks i've been practicing"
"do you have any batteries" *looks inside shirt* "not yet"
"let's go colonize the middle school!" "yyayayyayayay!!!" " wait I gotta ask my mom first" What happened next is know called the *Juniors burden*
"oh so you're a DOWNSTAIRS milk kinda guy"
"you are literally the human embodiment of crumbs in a bed"
"The Berk-ey Creamery isn’t a place, it’s a people!”
 "He shoved a floating joy-con straight up his flux-capacitor.” "great! now it's paired"
"No, that isnt armor, the real armor are the friends you made along the way"
"This one goes out to all my lady friends out there *proceeds to kill himself in game*
"i'm a coward" "that's what a coward would say!"
"rest is for cowards and fools"
"every time you speak you take years off my life"
"Shark dick hoo ha ha"
"Me and the boys brushing our teeth at 3 AM"
"remember if you kill yourself the fascists win"
"The Beatles aren’t real. Have you ever seen a beatle? No? Exactly." "Babe” "Shut up I’m right."
*reading over these quotes* "god i hate that" "you said that!"
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ajokeformur-ray · 4 years
Note
I have no clue if you’ve ever been asked this and have already answered and feel free to just tell me to mind my own business!! but.... what makes the Joker stand out of all the possible f/os? I don’t mean any disrespect. I’m just curious about the concept of a f/o and didn’t really know what it was prior to following your tumblr. I’m just wondering what made him the one?
Hi, nonnie! 🥰 I don’t believe I’ve been asked this yet, and if I have then I’ve completely forgotten about it 😂 As you may imagine, Joker is something very personal to me so this answer is pure emotion; I actually teared up when I first read your ask because there’s just so much I can say and even thinking of him makes me feel like my heart could explode. I hope that any potential disorganisation in this answer as a result of my emotional state is okay! 😊 There’s no disrespect put across in your ask, my love, and I truly appreciate your curiosity and your question. I hope to give it the attention and honesty which it and you deserve!💗 Fair warning for emotional heaviness in the third paragraph of this answer. Please skip it if it begins to negatively affect you.
Placed under a cut due to the length of my answer.
To give you the very basics of self-shipping, F/O means ‘fictional other/one’ and is the fictional equivalent of the real world S/O ‘significant other/one’ and it can mean any kind of relationship - romantic, platonic, familial, etc. My F/Os are all very different characters and they vary as to how I ship with them. Some are platonic, some romantic, I have two parental F/Os, and others are just loved by me; no label presented itself so the love just is. While the other characters kind of ‘rotate’ themselves depending on my mood on any given day or what my emotional needs are, I know that Joker is the one who stands out among my sixteen F/Os because he is always with me.
I don’t know how long you’ve been following me, but I’ve mentioned a few times over the months that Joker saved me and that’s... no exaggeration at all. In October, I was struggling so badly in my life. I had just started my third year of university and it hadn’t even been a month and I was falling behind on the workload to the point of seriously considering quitting because I genuinely couldn’t keep up, I was struggling with my increasing hours at my part time job, I had family issues. I had constant nightmares and sleepless nights, panic attacks were frequent, and I was probably dissociating sometimes too. I was alone and lonely and lost and scared and I could only stand and watch my life crumble around me. I was... in a very dark place and it felt like my soul was dying. I was losing myself... and then I met Joker. And, nonnie, when I say that it was like colour exploded across my night sky... for what felt like the first time in forever, I was feeling real emotions. I felt like myself when I saw the film for the first time and that feeling has never gone away. I saw a man who was doing everything right. He tried, again and again, so hard, and nothing he did was good enough. He went to therapy, he took his meds, he kept his journal, he held down a job, he looked after his mum, he kept the apartment tidy... Arthur was doing everything right even with how he felt. I just want to say here that I’m not blind to Arthur’s flaws or his problematic behaviours and I’m aware of who he is, but to see this beautiful man on the big screen feeling as I did in a lot of ways (watching him walk up those steps slowly always makes me cry because, me too), and still trying and still carrying on was... motivating and inspiring and I loved Arthur before I even knew his name. 
And then he transitioned into Joker and in the back of my head, I heard a very small voice say, oh, there you are, and I felt a part of me click back into place. I’m tearing up again omg I love him so much 🥺. Joker stands out amongst my F/Os because he feels like my home. Sometimes late at night when my laptop is switched off and away and I’m waiting to go to sleep, I’ll have thoughts like I want to go home even though I’m tucked up in my own bed in my own home, and all I have to do is close my eyes, grab my Joker pillow... and that feeling melts away and I’m left with so much love it’s like I could choke on it. Joker gives me hope, courage, comfort, inspiration, motivation... and the sheer amount of content I’ve produced since October is also very telling of how much good he’s been for my Muse - Joker was what my Muse was waiting for my whole life. Even when I’m sobbing, even when I feel lifeless, even when I feel so dark and awful, Joker’s there. He understands what it’s like, he knows what it is to feel the ways I do, and he still carries on. He’s there with that strong jaw and those piercing green eyes and the cutest crooked tooth in his dazzling smile and I want to apologise for any typos from this point because I’m crying so hard right now it’s like it’s raining on my keyboard. My other F/Os come and go but Joker is always with me. I know who he is. I know what he’s done. And I love him so deeply that I was able to push through everything I was feeling in October and everything that has happened since. I graduated university. I was able to keep my job at work (though right now that’s up in the air due to the lockdown). I was able to feel again and ever since we met on the fourth of October, I’ve had a reason to try. I feel alive when I watch the film, when I write for his character, when I hold my Joker pillow... I’m not obsessed with him because he’s not always on my mind, but he is a very important and very prominent figure in my life.
I wear two rings, both of which symbolise my love for Joker. I wear one on my wedding finger because I do consider myself to be very much committed to the bond I have with him (it’s also a commitment to myself, and a reminder to never compromise myself for anything which doesn’t feel as right to me as Joker does), and I wear another on the thumb of the opposite hand because I like to think it’s his ring for me. They are comfort items and I’m always wearing them. I keep Joker close to me actively, and that’s why he stands out. I found him when I most needed him and I don’t think it’s coincidental that many others will say the same. I also want to say here I know that he is fictional and I know that he has done bad things, but I cannot deny the positive ways he’s changed my life and all the ways he helps me in my daily life. I have made and kept so many beautiful friendships because of him and the community here. He really has... changed my life for the better in the most unexpected and ethereal way. Just saying his name out loud makes me smile so widely my cheeks hurt. So... so that’s why he stands out. He’s done more for me than any of my other F/Os, though of course I love them all dearly, and I know he’ll be with me for the rest of my life. I wouldn’t want it or him any other way! He makes me believe in myself, he makes me try, he makes me feel and he makes me feel safe inside myself when my demons scream at me.
I kind of... rambled and I’m sorry for that, nonnie! I do hope that I answered your question somewhere in here ksksksk I always have so much to say. If you want to discuss this further then please don’t be shy to reach out either via DMs or on anon again; whichever you’d like!💖 Thank you so, so much for your question and I hope I answered you correctly!
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lesbian-deadpool · 5 years
Text
A Love Made In- HOLY SHIT!
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Words: 861
Warnings: Blood, swearing, injuries, guns, bodies. Nothing really graphic, tho.
Request: Yep.
Summary: Assassin, an Avenger, and an arrow to the thigh. What could go wrong? Or right?
A/N: Listen. I tried. #15 and #10 from my 2222 Celebration.
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(Not my GIF)
***
Many things would class as a hassle in your job as an Assassin. The risk of death, being imprisoned, cleaning your weapons, jetlag. But one you didn’t expect, was falling in love. Hey, it might have been easier if it was with some random civilian. But no. You had to be you, and make it complicated for yourself, and fall in love with Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow. The woman who was currently tasked with taking you down or bringing you in. Whichever came first.
Fuck that bitch. You loved her.
And THAT is how you got into this situation. Surrounded by bodies of the local Turkish mob, you had been working with. Natasha in front of you, gun raised at your head, with a hard expression on her face.
“Why do you always get yourself into these situations?” Natasha asked coldly.
“Maybe I just wanted to see you again.” You smirked at her, and she could tell you were lying.
“Y/N.”
You sighed at her stern voice. “Okay, I saw a job, and I took it. Are you happy now?”
“No, I’m not happy,” Natasha said angered, lowering her gun, so it now aimed at your thigh. “You are risking your life, you idiot!”
“Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.”
“I risk my life to save the world. You risk yours for money,” Natasha specified.
“So you don’t get paid then?”
“That’s not the same, Y/N, and you know it.”
You sighed again, this time full of annoyance. “How about you cut the shit, Natasha, and tell me why you really here.”
Natasha straightened up at your closed off words, and voice. Aiming the gun at your head again.
“I’m here to bring you in. If not, then it’s my job to put you down.”
“You’re talking about me like I’m some sort of dog. When we both know that, that is your favourite posit-”
“Y/N!” Natasha barked.
“What?! If you’re gonna kill me, I at least deserve to joke around a little.”
Drawing in a shaky breath, Natasha said, “I don’t want to kill you.”
“Trust me. I don’t want you to kill me either. I always planned on being crushed by an elephant-”
“What have I got to do for you to take this seriously?”
You were silent at this. You knew how much she was hurting, and you were too. You just couldn’t bring yourself to show it. Whenever things got to Natasha, you were always the one to try and make them better, usually that consisted of making jokes. Apparently, even now. When she was about to kill you.
“Y/N, Please. Just come back with me,” Natasha begged, tears beginning to burn in her eyes.
“And get thrown into a cell for the rest of my life? No thanks,” You scoffed.
“It’s better than dying, isn’t it?!”
Silence from you yet again.
“At least that way you will still be able to see me-”
“Oh yeah, and how will that work out?” you asked her sarcastically, “A world-renowned Avenger coming to visit an Assassin in prison- Considering the one they throw me in even allows visitation. ‘Cause you and I both know the government will send me to the raft. And they do not have visitation there.”
“There's no changing your mind is there?”
You shrugged. “Probably not, no.”
That's when Natasha cocked the gun, a tear rolling down her cheek as she did.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Just before Natasha had worked up enough strength to shoot the person she loved. An arrow came zooming through the room, piercing into the thigh Natasha previously aimed at. Making you shout out in pain.
Natasha whipped around, to face the man behind her, “CLINT?!”
“Who’s Clint?” you whimpered, from where you now kneeled on the floor.
“What are you doing here?” Natasha asked him, watching as he strode past her, right towards you. “Clint?...” she continued wearily, hoping she wasn't about to see her friend kill you.
“You’re Y/N,” Clint stated, rather than asked.
“And I guess it's safe to assume you’re, Clint.”
“Do you love her?”
“What?”
“Do you love Natasha?” He clarified, pointing to the woman now at your side, holding your injured thigh with her hands, trying to ease the blood flowing from the wound.
“Yes.”
“Are you willing to fight for her?”
“What is this?” You asked, thoroughly confused.
“Are you?!” Clint barked.
“Yes!”
“Then join us.”
“What?” You and Natasha said at the same time.
“Join SHIELD. God only knows we need people with your skill set on our side.”
“Will they even let her join?” Natasha asked.
“They let you.”
“Clint, that was years ago. Things are tighter now.”
“So?”
“I’ll do it,” you butted in. Gaining their attention.
“What?” Natasha asked, “Are you sure, Y/N? There’s no guarantee that they’ll let you in.”
“I’ve gotta try. If not just for you. Then for myself, too.”
“Good,” Clint said, giving you a hand standing up. Natasha wrapping your arm around her shoulder, as to support your weight.
Smiling Clint then looked at the mess surrounding you, “There are so many bullets.”
“We’re trigger happy,” you reasoned.
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ranger-report · 4 years
Text
Review (In Progress): THE WITCHER 3: WILD HUNT (2015)
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The third and final (so far) game in The Witcher trilogy is big. Very big. Massive. Supermassive. Maybe I’m just a little intimidated by the depth and width and density of the game, but as of this writing, I’ve clocked in 62.4 hours on the game. That’s compared to the 48.1 hours of The Witcher and 31.5 hours of The Witcher 2. I’m closing in on the point where I’ve played Wild Hunt more than the first two games combined. From where I sit, there’s no end in sight, either; I have yet to complete the story, in addition to multiple sidequests, witcher contracts, and treasure hunts, not to mention the jawdropping expansion quests Hearts of Stone and Blood & Wine, which combined supposedly equal the length of the main story quest itself. Throw everything in a blender and pour it out, and I’ll be surprised if I eventually finish everything I’ve a mind for in under 150 hours. This is a big game. This is a dense game, packed with content every couple of miles or so, in a world where you can’t walk into a town without stumbling onto someone -- or something -- in need, and that’s ignoring the contracts on notice boards. People walk, talk, argue, cough, stumble around drunk, and get into fights with you. Oh yes, run afoul of local gangs, and they will come for you. Meanwhile, the vast open world is teeming with monsters to battle and loot, from the continual presence of drowners to the new griffins and basilisks. An overwhelming amount of content in a series that already packs plenty of content into each game. It would be far, far too much and monotonous if it wasn’t for one thing: developers CD Projekt Red write compelling material, and they know how to write a damn good story.
When the game opened up, it looked just like any other open world game I’ve ever played, and immediately I felt a pang of disappointment. I’ve done Far Cry 3, Horizon: Zero Dawn, Grand Theft Auto V, Assassin’s Creed: Origins, and like many of my gaming generation I get what to do. Seek out loot, checkpoints for fast travel, towns, fight things to get xp, ignore the “pressing” main story in favor of side quests for cool shit, yadda yadda yadda. Considering the first two Witcher games felt like original experiences in what they were trying to do, to walk into such a generic open-world framework was such a let down.
At first.
But then, something strange began to happen: I settled in. Two random quests twisted and convoluted into a connected thread, which was followed by a third main quest which circled back to this thread and elaborated on it. Suddenly a character who just seemed off her rocker was now a fearfully sympathetic human being, now seen in the light of someone else’s story. CD Projeckt Red hooked me, hooked me bad, and now this wide wide world was no longer a series of performances, it was the lives of people in this world and how Geralt affects them -- just like in the previous games. Only here, it’s bigger and wider and seemingly less connected, but it still all comes back together. Choices matter. People matter. The world itself twists and winds according to you, the witcher, and who you side with/fight for. Every other open world game I’ve played has had Things To Do, and this is no exception, but now suddenly it feels like everything matters. Before, everything I did felt like it was to further a progression percentage, to get trophies and upgrade items and simply arcade my way through a sandbox which promised “openness” but really was just all the levels of a video game laid out side-by-side so you could see them all at once instead of having to press through to get to the next one. This is the first time where I’ve really, honestly felt like I was walking through a living world, and to say that it’s captured me is an understatement. Where once I would have rolled my eyes at sidequesting in the face of a main quest where the point is to track someone down or save someone because it is incredibly important, now it feels like the most natural thing because the main quest requires you to go through some shit first. Every contract and quest met along the way furthers the main quest in some way or another, particularly when you open up new quests AFTER helping old friends, friends who now desperately need your help again, and what would happen if you weren’t there? Combine all of this with exceptional voice acting, talented writing, detailed animations, and we have compelling content literally around every corner. And that’s even when you’re just out searching for treasure or diagrams to make better witcher armor! Stories pop up everywhere, all of it interesting, even the slightest of things, and it truly crafts a distracting world to be enveloped by.
A living breathing world would be one thing all on its own, but thankfully Wild Hunt features the best-looking graphics in the series to date. I was genuinely worried that my old rig wouldn’t be able to handle a massive open-world game from 2015 without some tweaks (my desktop is old, shut up), but for the most part I’m running everything on high and it is breathtaking. Weather effects, god rays, BLOOM jesus christ I’m appreciating bloom in a video game for the very first time and I hate that I am but god fuck the first time you see the moon behind clouds in this game with bloom on, and I’m talking a full moon so it is BRIGHT and BEAUTIFUL and just. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Detailed textures and character models, the best in the series so far, a wide palette of colors (which sometimes makes the game look like a living painting, in the best of ways), absolutely masterful work. There’s the odd object-poking-through-something-it-really-shouldn’t, or the glitchy human being moving/acting/dying in ways they shouldn’t be, but that’s also a staple of both open world games and this series in general. Jank happens, especially in a game this size. It’s not as breaking as it has been in certain aspects of the first two games, and it’s mostly Bethesda-level charming. What matters though is that it doesn’t kill the experience, nor does it happen so often that it feels like the game is bugged or broken.
Combat, meanwhile, is still not perfect but it’s the best it’s been in the trilogy. Fast and furious, yet rewarding for those who have more patient skills, swordplay is easy and comfortable and versatile. Similar to the second game, one needs only turn the camera towards whichever enemy they want to attack and Geralt automatically goes for whichever monster or human is highlighted. Sometimes this can be fraught as the game will erratically highlight a different character than the one you’re facing, or will transfer the highlight to a different enemy if the one you were facing dances out of sight due to a roll or dodge or other maneuver. But it’s only frustrating sometimes; this was a flaw far more prevalent in the second game than here, and the lock-on mechanic is a godsend when paired against high-level creatures. With patience and tactics I’ve been able to competently square with beasts far too high level for me to tackle, and actually come out the victor, an idea that would be absolute suicide in the first two games. But now strategy versus simple number rolls can prevail, provided you are prepared and/or willing to have the patience to chip away while dodging for your life.
Wild Hunt is one of the few game worlds I’ve entered that feels stunningly alive. Whenever I start up the game, I am transported. Taken away. Breathlessly in awe of how real and vibrant the physical presence of the visuals on screen are. What a strange gift to behold. And, yet, aggravatingly, it frustrates me that most opinions I have encountered are that players don’t need to play through Witcher 1 & 2 in order to play this game. You certainly can, but so much context is lost. Geralt’s relationships with Triss and Yennifer and the struggles between them (that is, should you decide to romance Triss); the nostalgia and heartache of coming back to Kaer Morhen and revisting the other witchers; the friends and former alliances who pop up under vastly different circumstances; the paths taken and decisions made which impact where and how you begin this story. Wild Hunt is the culmination of a near-decade’s worth of storytelling, and the rewards for having played through the previous two games are plentiful. Nilfgaard’s invasion has extra oomph knowing where they were before, and walking through Vizima’s capital now occupied by Emperor Emhyr is especially chilling and devastating. I have no doubt that someone could pick up this game and play it and get the jist of what’s going on without playing the first two games. But will it mean as much? I daresay no. It is absolutely essential to play the first two games to truly feel the depth of impact that this story -- this world -- has to offer.
At this point in time it seems I’m coming upon some kind of resolution to the story. I’m off in search of allies to help combat a vicious foe, meaning it’s time to wrap up any side quests I still have in my ledger. There’s a lot to do. Once I’ve reached the conclusion of this game, this story, I’ll provide a wrap-up review. For now, this deep and still ploughing through, The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt is not only the best of the trilogy, it makes me want to go all the way back to the first game and play through the whole series again with different choices, for different outcomes, if only to see the roads I did not take and who was left behind. This is an amazing experience with literally hours of content to take in, and I am eager to devour the remainder.
Score (So Far): 9/10
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livralph · 5 years
Text
Self control i
~ Wolfstar fake dating au ~
“This will end in disaster.”
“It won’t end in disaster!”
“Well it cant end well.”
“It could end well!”
Lily sighed. “It was still a bad idea.”
“What part of this was a bad idea?” Remus’ voice had steadily been becoming louder since they’d started talking, and it had finally reached a point where students around them seemed to be listening in rather than reading whichever books they were studying from.
Lily grabbed Remus’ sleeve and pulled him to a corner of the library near the very back that was practically always empty. Not many people had even stepped into the entire section dedicated to flobber worms.
“Remus, do you really think this can end in any other way that him finding out?” Lily’s eyes were wide and pitying.
He winced and pulled a face as if he was trying to convince himself that it would all be okay, that he could hide the way he felt about Sirius in their new arrangement, but he gave up and buried his face in his hands. He’d spent all day thinking of ways this would end well and all of them had major downfalls. “I know your right, Lils. I know. It’s just that... I can’t say no to him. You know I can’t. He asked for a favour...” Remus was searching her face for some sort of understanding, which he did find, accompanied by, yes, that would be pity.
She breathed in deeply then shrugged. “It is what it is, right? And it is utterly stupid for you to have agreed to pretend to date the guy you actually are in love with.”
“I know.” He groaned, then took his hands from his face to look at Lily again, a teasing smile in place on his face. “Anyway, I don’t know if you can talk. Aren’t you still pretending that James is your least favourite person in the world?”
Lily went bright red then hit Remus lightly on the arm. “Stop changing the subject.”
“No. Please change the subject we have a potions essay due tomorrow and I’ve helped Peter and Sirius finish theirs pretending I’d done mine.”
~~~
Remus wasn’t quite sure why it had happened. It was after the moon. He was out of the hospital wing late at night, preferring to sleep in his own dorm, surrounded by his best friends. He’d gotten back to the fat lady’s portrait, said the password. Walked past a few people still finishing homework, then up to the boys dorm. Walked to his trunk, changed into pyjamas. Brushed his teeth, gotten into bed. The usual routine. He’d expected to take the usual two hours more to get to sleep in peace.
Then Sirius was pulling back the hangings around his bed just enough to climb in beside Remus. For a moment Remus had thought it was a dream so he turned onto his side to face Sirius, who was facing him. When he felt a twinge on his side from last nights injury he realised that, yes, this was real and, yes, Sirius was currently so close to Remus face that he could feel his breath fanning over his lips.
Sirius pulled his wand from under the duvet and cast a wordless charm which, Remus assumes, would drown out any sound that came from within. “Hi.” Sirius said with a shit-eating grin on his face either meaning he was completely aware of how little his friend was breathing, or that he was completely oblivious and has a plan. Remus had severely wanted it to be the latter.
“Hi.” He replied, realising Sirius had said something and he certainly would realise that Remus felt completely incapable of anything in that moment if he didn’t reply
“I need a favour.”
Remus felt his breathing stop entirely for a moment.
Sirius swallowed, smile faltering a little as if he had decided that this was not a good idea.
“What?” Remus said when there had been a minute of silence. “Whatever it is I’ll help.” He winced internally. Probably not the best thing to say, however true it was.
“Okay.” Sirius nodded, rolling onto his back. “Shit. Right. Okay. First thing is, I’m gay.” He stopped there for a second and before he had any time to even process it he was continuing. “I told my parents this summer, which was why I left, they got about ten times worse than they had been. James and his mum and dad- my mum and dad now- know too. That’s what had happened when we sent owls to you and Peter at three in the morning telling you to come over. I wasn’t really ready to tell you both yet but... y’know.” Sirius looked over at Remus, who nodded, understanding not being ready to tell friends- however close and accepting. He’d told Lily months before he’d even thought of telling anyone else.
“Second thing.” He continued, looking back up at the ceiling. “You came out near the end of last year. Everyone knows your bi. That’s...” Remus could see something in Sirius’ expression that he couldn’t quite understand. “It’s amazing, Re. Really. No one in our school was openly anything and then you just came out and then there was that group of girls a few weeks after you and a few other guys. It’s just incredible.” Sirius hand found Remus’ under the duvet but he didn’t say anything about it, so neither did Remus. “Incredible.”
Remus smiled sheepishly, feeling heat rise up his neck. He tried to pretend his heart wasn’t beating higher in his chest than it ever had before. “You, um.” He cleared his throat, which suddenly felt constricted. “You had a favour to ask me?”
Sirius tightened his grip on Remus hand slightly. “Yeah. You don’t have to do it, you don’t have to say you will if it’ll make you uncomfortable. Will you pretend to go out with me? Just for a few weeks. Just so I can come out. Because I don’t want it to be this thing that float around as a rumour that’ll get warped and retold until it’s completely untrue. Nothing big. Just fake dates, small couple things. Nothing that makes either of us uncomfortable. You don’t have to do it.”
Remus wasn’t speaking. His mind was running over everything Sirius had said in the past few minutes. He was gay. He thought Remus was amazing for coming out. He was asking Remus to fake date him. As if that was an easy decision to make. As if Remus wasn’t currently holding Sirius’ hand and feeling as if he was walking through a dream so, so close to one he’d had so many times. As if Remus could ever say no to him, especially under such circumstances.
Maybe he’d waited to long to reply, he probably had. His thoughts may have felt like they were going at a million miles an hour but in reality they were not and minutes had definitely passed since either of them had spoken. Sirius was pulling his hand from Remus’ taking silence as his way of saying no. “It’s fine. You don’t have to. It’s kinda stupid anyway- I’ll find another way to do it. Something like that Hufflepuff girl did the first day back after summer. Y’know, sending a howler to the great hall saying she was gay then walking through the door with her robes dyed rainbow. Sort of disappointed I didn’t do that now. But I’ll-“
“No- Sirius.” Remus said, reaching out for Sirius hand again. “I’ll do it. Start tomorrow?” He said it as if it were business or some homework assignment rather than what it was. He had to. If he hadn’t he’d probably have cried instead, and that would have been worse.
Sirius grinned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course.”
~~~
Remus woke up wondering if last night had even happened. Maybe it was some weird dream he’d had while drugged up on Madam Pomfrey’s healing potions. An ominous sinking feeling in his stomach made him think otherwise. As did the curtains being thrown aside by a very, very buzzed Sirius black who was holding liquid eyeliner in his hand and grinning wildly. “merlin, Pads. How many coffees have you had this morning? Actually, no. Tell me what time it is and then answer.”
“Seven.” Sirius beamed. “And two. Or three. Or four.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “One of the three.” He shrugged. “Anyway, Lily said your literally the best person at eyeliner in the whole of Hogwarts. So please help me I’ve stabbed myself in the eye six times and it looked awful.”
Remus sighed, rubbing his eyes, then sitting up in his bed. He waved a hand, motioning for Sirius to sit down in front of him. He did so, legs crossed with his knees touching Remus’. Sirius passed over the eyeliner bottle.
Remus took the lid of then traced Sirius eye with the brush, telling him to keep his eyes closed once he was done on one eye before moving onto the next. When he finished, Remus didn’t move away, using the excuse of making sure the makeup was perfect to be close to Sirius in private. It only lasted a second because James was pulling open the bed hangings, words half way out of his mouth when he saw the boys, inches apart from each other in a seemingly very intimate way.
“Oh.” James said, not moving. He looked to Remus, who had one hand cupping Sirius face and the other resting on it, eyeliner brush a few centimetres off his face. Then he turned to Sirius, who hadn’t opened his eyes, but did slowly turn his head to be facing in James’ general direction. “Wait, Remus how the hell did you do that?” Remus shrugged, closing the eyeliner -now now touching sirius’ face- and taking his wand and waving it at Sirius face in a short complicated hand movement.
Sirius shuddered a little then muttered, “can I open my eyes now, Re?” His hand had slipped to be resting on Remus lower thigh. Somehow, he hadn’t noticed this until Sirius squeezed it once, making Remus jump.
Remus briefly wondered whether they were playing up the couple thing for James too, or if this was just their normal now. If it had always been their normal, but he’d only just noticed because he was hoping beyond everything that Sirius could possibly like him back. Before he wouldn’t even allow himself to think about it, well, not consciously. His dreams were sadly ruins his control. “Go for it. And you’ll have to ask me to take it off because I found this charm for Lily a year or two ago that makes it so it is waterproof, and so it doesn’t smudge.”
Sirius smirked, “not the only thing I’ll ask you to take off, babe.” He followed this up with a wink.
Remus was going to die. He put his head back on his pillow and buried his face into it, groaning loudly. To James this probably seemed to be because he was embarrassed by his boyfriend, but it was actually because he now had the memory of Sirius Black actually saying those words to him. The two of them were howling with laughter. After a few seconds of hearing this Remus sat up, intertwined his fingers with Sirius’, smiled unsettlingly sweetly at him then said in a low voice, “if you say things like that around our friends, babe, then maybe I won’t take anything off you.”
Yes. Remus was going to die- and by the way James was laughing so hard that he was just wheezing, he already was. At that moment Peter chose to walk in the room, robes on and toothbrush in his moth. He froze at the sight in front of him. First he looked at James, then Remus, and lastly Sirius, who had swallowed thickly at his fake boyfriends words and then nodded solemnly. However sincere this seemed, he doubted it would actually happen, seeing as Sirius was the biggest drama queen in the world. The previous year Dumbledore had rewarded points to him on five separate occasions for making such a show of pretending to be disappointed by recieving yet another detention. (McGonagall had removed the points immediately, but the thought was there.)
So, based on this, yes. Remus was going to emotionally die.
~~~
He’d told Lily that afternoon it was fake. She’d barely opened her mouth to say how good it was for him when he told her. He couldn’t deal with all of his close friends telling him how amazing it was that they’d ‘finally gotten together’. Sitting in the common room with her at three in the morning while sharing a blanket and a pot of tea a house Elf had offered to bring was much more therapeutic than lying awake in his bed listening to James try and weasel details about how they’d started going out from Sirius. Lily and Remus hadn’t spoken about it since the library earlier, instead discussing class and a muggle book they’d both read.
They were both ignoring it- the elephant in the room. And eventually Remus was going to talk about everything Sirius said and did the previous night. He knew it. All he’d told lily was that he’d asked for a favour and that favour was fake dating. He hadn’t told her about the hand holding. Or the faces inches apart. Or the strange atmosphere in his bed before James threw open the curtains, and for a few seconds after.
He knew Lily wanted to talk about it, she just wasn’t bringing it up. She wanted to ask why he’d said yes again, why he’d agreed to put himself through something that would so obviously hurt him. It was obvious in the way she was only talking about spells and potions and magical creatures, rather than students and friends.
“Ask what you want to, Lils.” He finally said, as she was halfway through the symptoms of doxie poisoning.
Lily let out a heavy breath. “You know me too well. I can’t hide anything from you.” She huffed again.
“Same goes for me.”
Lily didn’t respond, instead staring at the fire. “How did he ask, Re? You can say no to Sirius. You’ve said no about so many pranks, plans, ideas, everything. Why not this?”
Remus told her what happened, how they’d been so close that he could feel the heat radiating from Sirius body, how they’d been holding hands, how everything made him feel more in love that he constantly did. How if he’d moved himself less than two inches closer together they could have kissed. “He was lying their waiting for me to say something. Holding my hand. I can say no to pranks, Lily, things that aren’t plausible or could hurt people. I can’t say no when he’s vulnerable and needs nothing more than some help. I always have to help him.”
Remus had silent tears travelling down his cheeks and he pressed his face into her shoulder. “I needed to do this. For- for him.” He swallowed, trying to keep his voice steady. “He’s helped me so much. So much. He deserves the same.”
“I know.” Lily muttered, putting her arms around his shoulders and hugging him tightly. “I know, Remus... but you shouldn’t help him when the only collateral damage is going to be you.”
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ziracona · 4 years
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What has been your favorite ilm chapter to write? Your least favorite? Do you have any interesting fun facts that were in cut pieces? I love this fic and the research put in is astounding. You put so much love into this. I'm glad to have been a reader :)
Thank you so much for asking this, and I’m really happy you have liked it! : ) Researching all kinds of wild stuff has been one of the most fun parts. (I’m holding the start of the answer to each question you asked, bc I talked about the first one for a while lol).
I do have a favourite chapter! I think to read, it would be a lot harder question, and there’d be a bunch of chapters tied, but as an author, my favourite chapter is most definitely Speak for the Dead. I have a lot of favourite moments and chapters, but that’s the one I’m most proud of. There’s a really rare thing in writing I call “script perfection,” which is not like, a perfect script in comparison to other scripts, it just means the version of the script that got shot/published was the best version of that particular script there ever could have been. It’s incredibly rare, and very hard to do. Even with films and shows I love, usually there will be seconds, sometimes minutes, off and on, that are the best version of those seconds there could have ever been. And the rest of it is great! It’s maybe the second or third or eighth-best it could have been, and that’s still super impressive--like man--eigth-best is still so close to 1st, eigth best is freaking phenomenal. It’s something to be really proud of. But that’s as high as it almost ever gets. For anything. Only extremely rarely is an entire script at 96% or above on script perfection. (I would say for reference that Galaxy Quest and The Incredibles are two such films).
It isn’t the most important part of a script or a story at all. Not by a huge amount. The quality of the story itself is. I have plenty of films that never hit 90% or above script perfection that I still prefer over films that did (like, Galaxy Quest is an amazing film, and I’m in awe that it hit that level of refinement, but I still like The Two Towers, which definitely did not, better. Because Sam’s speech at the end of it is enough to power me for a whole year). But it’s still such a rare thing. And god, it’s hard. Any kind of media is done on some kind of budget (be it financial or energy or both), and time constraint, and also it’s just not easy to do. Again, true-final-draft achievement (which is probably a better name for this bc it’s less confusing) is far from the most important or valuable aspect of a film, or play, or book, and it’s not necessary to make a story amazing. But it’s still always /so/ cool to see. It’s cool to see a nine minute continuous stretch of it even, on screen. And out of all the chapters I’ve written, the only one I think hit true-final-draft at least 96% or above, was Speak for the Dead. And that’s not embarrassing or anything. It’s wild. And I’m super proud of that. I’m proud I got even one. Because a lot of even my favourite books don’t. They just have perfected scenes, and a lot of them, but are not the best draft they could have been. Which does absolutely nothing to negate their worth as phenomenal books, but. I’m really, really proud of Speak for the Dead, and very happy with myself for having been able to do that at least once. I kind of treasure that.
It’s also a special chapter to me, because I had it only very loosely outlined/planned for at all, and it kind of came together on its own, and everything just came together and fell into place just right, and this chapter I had been really unsure of before starting turned into my favourite one in the entire fic. I like what I write, and I enjoy reading it myself, but there’s a line in Speak for the Dead where Tapp is trying to explain everything to Meg, about himself and his past and his family, and he’s been going through this like, awful mass of confusion and trauma and guilt and regret that’s all come to a head in this one day, and he’s found out who Amanda is and can’t deal with that and the person he knew, and the way Sing died, the choices she went on to make, and there’s so much even he doesn’t understand about how the world is falling apart around him, but somehow he figures it out enough to say it to Meg. And he has a line: “You’re supposed to stay late and work the extra eight hours overnight to catch the killer so somebody doesn’t die; you’re not supposed to go home to your family and give your kid a hug. It’s not as important, in an equation. It was my responsibility. And I didn’t get that the other job had its own set of rules. That the cop’s supposed to let the bus with his partner fall, but the dad’s supposed to let the fifteen people go and save his kid—he’s supposed to go running through crowded subway tunnels chased by gunmen, consequences be damned, to get them away from where his kid’s hiding. I didn’t get it. I don’t know why. I loved him right, but I didn’t act like it, because I thought I was doing the right thing. But if everybody’s just numbers, you lose anything that matters, no matter how high the numbers go up. And you don’t realize until it’s way too late that you do just as much good really helping one person you signed on to protect as you could have ever done bouncing off the lives of a hundred people who go on to be the next Jigsaw.”
And like. I fucking love that line. God. It’s such a hard thing to articulate, what he’s going through in that moment, and I try, but I think I often don’t do as good a job. But every time I read that last line it’s like a gut punch. And I really love it. How the fuck could you possibly feel after going through the experience he’s just had? It’s such a specific, indescribable kind of big, whole-world-view devestating.
There’s also a lot of really sweet moments with Meg, and Adam drugged and injured but trying really hard to help, and it’s a super understated chapter in a lot of the moments? Tapp’s one of my favourites to write, because of the way he thinks. He tries so hard to be lawful good in a world where there’s just no law at all anymore. And he’s older by far than anyone else, and thinks about the world that way. Honestly, it’s one of the most serious chapters. It’s less graphic than say Proven or The End of the Line, but it deals with some very not remotely fantastic and not pretty themes. It’s heavy. But I like the way it tells itself. I enjoy working in references when they make things fun, or better, or more meaningful, and I got to do that a lot. Plus, it gave Ace and Tapp a bunch of one-on-one time they didn’t really get on-screen as much in any of the rest of the fic, but I really loved it. The way they try to look after the people they care for, and how they understand each other. I just really fucking loved that chapter. Also, Tapp beat someone to death with a reverse bear trap that was still attached to his head so he could save Meg from dying in a way that would be super lastingly traumatic, and if that’s not the most metal thing I’ve ever heard? I really love Tapp. And I love that he sticks to the things he does. Meg never learns what Amanda was going to do to her, not in fic, not after. And Tapp does change how he does things are talking to Meg at the end of that chapter. Tapp’s the one who immediately says they can’t go public with any information on Rin until she’s passed on, even though it could really help them prove their case and hypothetically better protect the world, because he’s not willing to see a kid forced to revert to being violent and feral against her will in self-defense, or locked up in a government black site to get that. He did good. Life has not been kind to this poor man, but thankfully, Meg Thomas has.
Least favourite? Way harder. Hmmm. Always whichever one I wrote most recently 😂
In complete seriousness, I don’t think I have one? I have like 6 I consider “slightly-less-interesting” than the rest, but I don’t have one I hate period, or just dislike a lot. Uhhhh. If I had to pick one right now, I’d say Core Essentials, because I haven’t read it in over a year and don’t remember it as well as many others, and of the small number of chapters in the “Damn, been a hot minute, huh?” group, it’s the one I remember the least. This rating may change next time I actually read it, lol.
Hmmm. Interesting fun facts in cut segments. In the original draft for Shrouded, Claudette went into Philip’s basement and got a really good look at the other side of the wall, through one of the cracks, and saw the Entity and almost gave herself a panic attack. The other side of the basement wall was described as looking like the sun, like just looking at light, but only at first, and then there was movement like a snake coiling or some huge creatuer deep underwater sliding across your vision, too big to see, but alive in there in the middle of the light, and moving around, and it horrified her. It was extremely creepy but pretty cool.
The original draft for The Wraith included Philip experiencing fragmented audio memories from Signifying Nothing/his time with Vigo & co. while he was mostly unconscious. It was really cool and I forgot because I haven’t read it in forever, but it hinted at /way/ more of the plot to those past events. I really liked the draft, but ended up changing it into what was published because I’d never done anything with his memories before, and I didn’t want to disorient the reader too much (probably a good call, but it was still a neat scene in the OG form).
It’s not in the fic, but canonically, after leaving the survivors camp at the end of The Wraith, Philip came up with his plan to leave himself a message in the bell, and then called the Entity. Trying to talk his way out immediately failed, and it was shitty to him and pissed him off, and Philip had considered what might work on something like the Entity before calling it, and knew he was dead either way, so he tried to fight it. More to see if it would work than anything. He knew he would forget it even if he did, but sometimes impulses lingered, and it was possible if it worked, it would help him think of it again. He used his blood and drew a protective symbol against demons on his palm without it noticing, then rushed it, and it wasn’t scared of him so it didn’t give a fuck, but he smacked it with the charm and that actually succeeded in burning its talon (very little, but enough to cause it actual pain) and it flipped out and got extremely angry, and immediately stabbed him through the skull, which is why he returned with that chunk of his mask gone and has a scar on his forehead now. Originally, I was considering writing some of the events between The Wraith and Dawn from Philip’s POV, but decided it was much better sticking with the survivors and their uncertainty completely. Got to live in the anxiety baybeeee.
I’m sure there’s more but you activated my trap card asking about Speak for the Dead - a special interest- and I already made this long, so I should stop for now. Thank you again so much for asking! I hope my answers made sense are we’re at least kinda enjoyable to read. 💙💙💙
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