#Also being evil wasn’t exactly his choice

[mittenslikescats]

You know what

I honestly kind of hate how a chunk of the ninjago fandom treats Misako vs Garmadon (specifically emperor Garmadon, I’m NOT bring Lord or Sensei Garmadon into this btw)

Like I see comments (mainly on twitter and instagram) going on about how terrible Misako is and how she’s an abusive parent cus she abandoned Lloyd. And yes while I do think her abandoning him was pretty messed up, she very clearly made up for it over the years. Also there could’ve been a chance that Darkleys was the only school actually willing to take in Lloyd (considering who is father is).

I also think it’s kinda unfair to blame Misako for Darkleys kicking Lloyd out causing him to end up on the streets. That was the schools decision and I’m gonna predict that Misako wasn’t even aware her son had been kicked out and was fending for himself.

Yes she’s clearly made a BIG mistake but over the show whenever she’s a major player in the story she’s there supporting her son.

And now when it comes to E! Garmadon, especially in Crystalized I see comments of ppl saying how much of a better parent Garmadon is compared to Misako (when pointing out how he’s changed since the oni trilogy). And yes while he is clearly changing for the better and aiming to be a better person, I feel like a lot of ppl just casually ignore how much pain (mental and physical) that he brought on Lloyd during the Oni trilogy.

Like E! Garmadon beated his son to what is likely to be an inch of his life, disowned him in front of all of Ninjago, “killed” his adoptive family, destroyed him home (bounty and Ninjago city) within a few hours and then later during that week was sending the SOG to hunt down his few remaining friends and family. And ppl are STILL trying to say that Misako is the worser parent between the 2 of them.

Now I get that E! Garmadons character arc in Crystalized is learning to be a better person, I still don’t like how the season likes to brush everything he did to Lloyd during TOT slightly under the rug. Like Loyd is presented as being an angry and mean jerk towards his father, even tho he has all the right too. Unlike Vinny Lloyd didn’t see the gradual change his Father had in between MOTO and Crystalized. To Lloyd this is still the same Garmadon from back during the Oni invasion (also while he shows small signs of possibly changing on MOTO it’s more of an interaction between Vinny and Garmadon NOT Lloyd).

I can easily see why Lloyd is so cold hearted towards E! Garmadon, this is the same man that almost killed him with his bare hands and then took basically everything from him. But a chunk of the community just sees Loyd as being rude and not willing to accept that Garmadon is trying to become a better person. And don’t they realize how difficult this is for Lloyd? But also I see some of those same ppl turn around and say that Misako is this god awful parent.

Like excuse me? Yes Misako did a pretty messed up thing but E! Garmadon did FAR WORSE and while he’s trying to make up for it Crystalized I don’t really think him trying to be nicer to other ppl and Lloyd actually making up for EVERYTHING he’s done. Yes he is 100% going in the right direction on becoming a better person, he’s still MILES away from being a better parent.

Misako spent YEARS rebuilding her connection to Lloyd, she there for him, she cares about him (and in turn he cares about her) but ppl turn away and go ‘well she abandoned him when he was a kid’ but then those same ppl will point out how E! Garmadon is trying to become a better parent.

But it’s honestly frustrating how some ppl treated Misako then how they treat E! Garmadon.

so yeah thanks for coming to my what was supposed to be a mini rant

[amuseoffyre]

I’m emotionally ruined by the fact that Aziraphale hasn’t broken out of his heavenly conditioning. He still loves doing good. He gets happy when people tell him he’s an angel and says “it’s nice to tell people about the good things you’ve done now that I’m not reporting to Heaven”. He will literally put himself in harm’s way to make sure he does the Good and Right thing.

It can’t be understated how much Heaven’s influence still impacts on him. Aziraphale has been created, ordained and conditioned to believe it and he can’t just switch it off or walk away. Crowley didn’t get the choice. He was Fallen. He was kicked out and - as per the rules of toxic and terrifying cults - Aziraphale was always told for centuries and millennia, Falling was the worst thing that could happen. If you’re bad, you’ll be forced out. If you’re bad, you’re not one of Us. You’re one of Them.

When he did something he perceived as Right (ie. saving innocent children from death), but knew it wasn’t what Heaven intended, he broke down. Crowley found him a crying, shaking wreck afterwards because he was so convinced he was Evil. He was so convinced he was going to be dragged to Hell and that he was now a demon because he did one thing that saved some children but because it wasn’t a specific directive, it was Bad.

It shapes so much about him and it’s why the whole series looks like he’s having so much fun doing silly human things, but there’s this brittleness to it. He’s happy and excited and he’s doing his human-life things and having a lovely time, but he’s also constantly stressed because of the Need To Do Good. From the moment Gabriel turns up, he’s a nervous wreck and is trying to hide it by Doing Good, by Solving the Problem, by Fixing Things, by being so active and reactive rather than letting himself think about it. It’s a sign of exactly how frantic he is that he starts giving away his books and letting humans touch them.

Watch his face when the Archangels show up unexpectedly: that isn’t joy. That’s blind terror. He’s so afraid of doing the wrong thing in Heaven’s eyes, even though he made the active choice to do so because it was the Right thing to do. He’s a Guardian and he will protect, but he is so very afraid of the repercussions, even now. 

At the end of S1, Crowley said “they’re gearing up for the big one” so Aziraphale’s not oblivious. He knows a big one is coming. He knows something worse than the Antichrist will be on its way. And he’s trying so hard to pretend that everything is normal and fine and if he ignores all the looming bad stuff, it won’t happen. If we don’t say anything about it, nothing has to change.

But then the changes come knocking at his door holding a box and the choice is gone. He can keep trying to blinker himself to it, but then there are angels and demons in the bookshop and he’s had to use his halo and everything is falling apart.

So when he realises that he can get himself into a position where he can guarantee those repercussions won’t happen to Crowley? He will absolutely take it. He says himself “I don’t want to go back to Heaven”, but the instant the Metatron offers him a free pass for Crowley, to take Crowley out of both Heaven and Hell’s sightlines, to keep him safe (Another bee inside the hive, if you will), no wonder he grabs it with both hands.

The tragedy is that Crowley thinks that when they saved the world together, that was the end of Heaven’s influence in Aziraphale. When he was cast out the split between him and Heaven was sharp and clean. He doesn’t - he can’t - understand how deeply it has tangled around Aziraphale. It’s built into Aziraphale’s entire being and unravelling it isn’t that simple. Aziraphale’s trauma is a horrible, terrible Gordian knot and Crowley can’t understand that he couldn’t simply cut through it, because that’s just not how Aziraphale works.

[captain-mj]

Love Potion <3

Hey, think of the consent issues you can think of when a person is under a love spell. Take that into consideration moving forward. Keep an eye on Roach.

Soap had been wanting to be part of the guard since he was old enough to hold a sword. He finally had been accepted, though it took a while to be able to. Not just because his age, but also his history of trying to sneak into the guard made them not believe him when he was actually of age. 

Mostly, he was looking for purpose in life. Some thing outside of himself that he could believe in. And what better than protecting his people from the evil things that tried to destroy his kingdom? 

Elves were constantly going to war with them. They seemed to despise them constantly and Soap did find their looks to be… alarming. The long pointed ears, the odd makeup most wore as well as the unnatural paleness they had. Being as they were the main sources of most magic as well, Soap found himself hating them. 

At the current moment, the current evil creature terrorizing them was a weird thing that stalked the woods at night. Soap was not sure if it even existed but he knew that most of the citizens of their city thought that and in the end, that was really what was important. Even if his presence was more symbolic, he eased their minds. 

Soap got up and started to pull on his armor. It was not a full suit, as he likely would not be going into battle today. Maybe some basic sparring but he wasn’t up for a lot at the moment. He planned to mostly just patrol and see if he could maybe get a glimpse at his Lieutenant. 

Simon “Ghost” Riley. 

Everyone was interested in him, but he only paid his Lord and Lady attention. He was quiet and sharp when he did talk and he struck both fear and… something a little closer to infatuation in almost everyone he met. Something about his presence… 

Soap was not immune to this effect. Not one bit. Sometimes, it felt like he got it more than anyone. When Ghost was in the room, it felt like the only way he could breathe is to look at him. 

He was sure that everyone felt this way a little bit. 

Soap finished his musing and left their barracks. He went straight to his favorite baker. In all honesty, the only retreat he was interested in was Roach’s company. He was lovely company, though he was cursed to be unable to speak. Soap had never seen a nice, cooler person. Even if he had a strange choice in headwear, constantly having a mask on to cover his mouth and a helmet on. 

Roach noticed him and he perked up, quickly scuttling off to get him a cup of coffee and some form of…

Soap wasn’t sure exactly. Just that it was a form of bread and had meat on it. He was skeptical until he took a bite. 

“Roach, if i was allowed, I’d marry you in a heartbeat.”

Roach blushed a bright cherry red and smiled even brighter somehow visible through his mask. He took his money, counting it quickly before dropping it in the cup he used for collection. 

Soap didn’t understand why so many found him off putting. Despite his curse, he was pleasant. He made idle chat, careful not to interrupt his business, just there to enjoy his company. 

“MacTavish.” Ghost whistled and Soap quickly turned around to look up at him. 

“Lieutenant! Need something?” Soap smiled politely, hands behind his back in a perfect parade pose. 

Ghost glared at him. Presumably. He never took off his headgear, meaning no one ever saw his face. 

Soap thought about it. Had drawn different versions of him more times than he could count to see if he could possibly get close. Like always, Ghost drew all of Soap’s attention. 

“No…” Ghost brushed him off and got some food from Roach. “Hey, Sanderson. Nice to see you.”

Roach fluttered his eyelashes at him and quickly made him a cup of tea and a… scone? Soap was man enough to admit that he didn’t actually know the words for most of what Roach sold. 

Ghost… lifted his mask. 

For a moment, a bright beautiful moment, Soap thought he’d take it off completely. That he would see the scarred gruff man beneath. 

What could he expect? Salt and pepper hair? Stubble? Dozens of scars? He was probably much older than Soap. 

Ghost lifted his mask to just barely reveal his mouth as he started eating. He dipped his biscuit into his tea before taking a bite. When he paid, he gave Roach a thankful grunt and ruffled Roach’s hair. 

Roach looked enamored, face bright red. He noticed Soap watching and quickly started to clean, looking very embarrassed. 

Soap tried to ignore the jealousy he felt at this entire situation and made himself scarce. Ghost was too obsessed with his job to ever entertain any of them. Least of all Soap. But seeing the rare moments where he gave out affection and it wasn’t directed at him…he felt so ignored. 

During the day, Soap mostly stood in one place and looked intimidating. At night, he hesitated between going back to his barracks and guarding the house of the town’s lady and lord. Logically, he should go to the barracks as he hadn’t been told explicitly he was on the night shift but it had been roughly four days. 

Just to be safe, he went ahead and went to their home.

Home was… well. It was basically a small scale castle. He thought it was honestly a little grandiose for his taste. 

There was no one around. Just a very soft silence. 

Soap gritted his teeth. Yeah. He was definitely supposed to watch them. Why the previous watch had not waited for someone to relieve them was beyond Soap entirely. 

He went inside to check if they were okay, but was unable to find his lady or lord. 

It didn’t occur to Soap that continuing to look may make him stumble on something he shouldn’t. He was too focused on making sure that his charges were okay and safe. 

A cracked door. 

Never good. 

Soap stared at it, hearing… something. 

Breathing. 

Anxiety rolled in his gut but he had to make absolutely sure his charges were safe. That was his whole job. The place reeked of roses, chicory root and jasmine. Nothing directly sinister but definitely seemed like the components of magic. 

So he silently looked through the door, just to make sure. 

Soap covered his mouth. 

His lady was in a knight’s lap. He knew the moment he saw the armor who it was. 

Ghost. 

That would explain his one track mind when it came to this. 

She had taken off his helmet, having tossed it to the floor at some point. Her hands ran feverishly over him as her husband spoke. He seemed to be ordering them both around.

Soap felt a tiny bit better than she wasn’t sleeping with Ghost outside of her husband’s knowledge, but the entire situation was disturbing. While he’d never fault someone for their kinks, he would’ve never guessed his Lieutenant would have such… proclivities. 

She shoved him down on the bed, due to his size, his head lolled off of it and hung down, giving Soap a sudden and very aggressive view of his face. 

Three things were noticed in very quick succession. 

One, Ghost was more beautiful than Soap could’ve guessed. Soft lips. Beautiful curly hair. A chest and taught stomach that made Soap wish more than anything that he was the one currently making his way down his body instead of the lady of the town. 

Two, he was an elf. Long pointed ears. Unnaturally pale features. 

Three, perhaps most horrific, his pupils were wrong. 

Heart shaped. 

Meaning he had a love potion on. 

Ghost didn’t smile. He didn’t enjoy this. Even under the influence of magic, they couldn’t force him to pretend. 

Soap fled like a coward. 

[rosy-crow]

While I’m rewatching this chapter, I actually have to say I felt really bad about Masamune, dude. It’s hard not to see the parallels he has with Sephiroth even though his story is his own.

Alissa frames him as the real monster, saying he was seduced by the sword too…and maybe he was? But initially, after he forged it, it wasn’t his choice to go and start the Robio village conflict.

The villagers lost their minds because the sword is cursed One Ring style, I guess (likely something related to Jenova, considering Masamune was suddenly possessed to forge it).

But still, the conflict started with an act of betrayal. The people Masamune served turned on him and tried to steal his masterwork. They even broke into his home. It sounds like they went animalistic over it, fighting each other and all.

But here, I think Masamune has agency! Bro might even have regret.

It’s like he loses faith in his people and that’s when he starts killing them. Again, paralleling Sephiroth’s story a lil bit…

I like how it sounds like there was a choice here and maybe Masamune took the darker path out of hatred or anger over being swarmed and attacked by his neighbors after serving them and creating the weapons they would need to survive in the creepy environment they were in.

Yeah okay, the sword was maybe stirring up the worst in these people, but their drive to get claim it was greed, right? They wanted more than what Masamune had already given them. They wanted HIS own precious belonging and creation.

It’s like a material parallel to Sephiroth and Shinra, which is pretty damn cool sdjfjdj.

Masamune became a murderer and destroyed his own home after he watched his fellow man sink into animalistic greed and violence, targeting his life’s work and service. He killed them and they killed each other. There was evil on both sides in the Robio tragedy.

Sephiroth’s story is darker because he chooses to go well beyond the destruction of his own home, but knowing the context and build-up, knowing how he came to view humanity as a whole as his enemy, we know why he chose what he did.

It’s twisted and evil, but what I like is how both his story and Masamune’s story have these little hints about why exactly both turned on their fellow man. I won’t be surprised if Jenova is behind the scenes stirring shit up like a demon whispering in people’s ears, but there’s enough room for agency too!!

Masamune also wanted to find someone to inherit the sword last chapter too. Maybe bro just wants peace now or something idk.

[theoraclej]

THAT SEASON FINALE!

light, where to begin, a disjointed ramble of things I observed:

Dovie’andi se tovya sagain! - Mat said the words, he said the words!

And he made his own ashandarei! I hope he gets the raven-inlaid one though because I’m sure no one wants him running around with that dagger

And I know he’s going to get a massive S3 glow-up because he sees himself as MORE, now. Yay Mat!

RAND exploding the shit out of the Seanchan including Turak; nice way around his general lack of swordtraining which I’m sure will be remedied

Once the Heron, to set his path!

The interplay between Rand (and Lews Therin before him), Lanfear, Ishamael - they were besties in the Age of Legends, lmao!

I had expected the intro to be a high society polyam party they were attending, not the Sealing of Ishamael, 🤭

The Warder bond was beautiful, flowing, intimate, just what I imagined when reading these books some 25 years ago

I knew Moiraine was gonna say Lan was her better!

I’m so glad they’re back together though, legendary qpp

Nice to see the S1 intro sequence with the gorgeously woven Aes Sedai tapestry

I was a bit sad Nynaeve didn’t heal Elayne OR Rand but she DID swear to make Seta’s mother curse the first kiss her father ever gave her and THAT was cool

Hopper, my beloved! 😩 I would be chopping Whitecloaks too!

It was so satisfying to see Perrin obey his wolfly instincts already!

Elayne being the one to heal Rand’s wound was an interesting choice, and you can tell he was dazzled by her!

Book lines, book lines, book lines making me have conniptions every time one was uttered

“From birth to death I serve the Blood.”

UNO I KNEW YOU WERE COMING YA SHEEP-GUTTED MILK DRINKER

“For the Light, and Shinowa!” still gave me chills even without an expanded story behind it for Ingtar

Egwene al’Vere. I hope she earns a title of “the Unbroken” someday. Remember, Nynaeve even said that about her when Egwene was captured by Whitecloaks in S1!

Egwene, spitting out the damane gag and refusing to rain down fire on innocents, ah my girl, that’s that Two Rivers steel

Egwene, collaring Renna and choking her to death, being stronger than Renna, being able to withstand the pain of that because that’s exactly what Renna taught her

Egwene later, with that amazing shield against Ishamael to protect her friends!

Lanfear pushing Lan and Moiraine out of the ocean Waygate was very unexpected but totally within Lanfear’s lane, just to keep Moiraine away from Rand

Lanfear working to sell the Seals to Bayle Domon, which was so lmao also, and it really enhanced her utter shock when she entered the room later with the Seals all broken.

M O G H E D I E N 🕷️

She is perfectly creepy, perfect in every way. I can’t wait to see her tear shit up, or to see how she will be used in S3 and beyond

Never expected her to cage Lanfear in her webs, either, dang. Lillen Moiral wasn’t near so strong as Mierin. But we know some things are just Talents, and Moghedien is better in Tel’aran’rhiod than Lanfear

Did you notice Rand’s wound swirling with evil bits throughout the healed part? Really cool effect if you catch it

Aviendha, Bain, and Chiad showing they can fight just as well in close quarters in a city as in the Three-Fold Land; and then later acknowledging Rand as Car’a’carn

Though I’d hoped we’d get some good old He Who Comes With The Dawn in here too

Moiraine’s outstanding torpedo weaves that fucked up the Seanchan boats! And she understands the stakes - if the Dragon is gentled, or harmed, or captured, everyone’s life is in danger and that includes her and Lan

Anyhow fuck the Seanchan

Did it look like Suroth got blown up too? Does that mean she’s dead? I guess we’ll see who gathers in the scattered remnants of the Hailene!

The first “I’m not Lews Therin” from Rand

Mat taking a moment to mention Rand’s “shit hair” to Perrin while they were in the mix, lmao

That shadow ashandarei is really scary, it is a laser knife (lightsaber?) on a stick

I can’t wait for Perrin and Hopper to meet again in the Wolfdream

Speaking of which, I think Perrin’s eyes are permanently golden now

I cried at the coming of the Heroes of the Horn, I’m sure many of you did too 😭

Cool Hero fighting effects, I liked those

BIRGITTE SILVERBOW MY LOVELY

I figured Min’s vision of Mat “killing” Rand would be something like this, an accident, not an intentional thing

His blood on the rocks of Shayol Ghul…

AL’LAN MANDRAGORAN, the Uncrowned King, Sworn to the Flame, bonded again, fighting as he was meant to, just slicing through armies, snatching arrows out of the air and stabbing people with them, chef’s kiss

I wonder if Nynaeve’s “failures” and inability to channel at these vital moments will give her the drive to break her block

Ishamael’s channeling at the end was really impressive, a testament to how much more he knows than Rand

I hope that’s not the last we see of Fares Fares, he was remarkable as Ishamael and a truly enjoyable villain

And since they didn’t have the Dragon banner of Lews Therin Telamon found with the Horn like in the books, Moiraine saw to it that he was heralded with literal fire

This I can imagine many people seeing from far away, and of course rumor travels further

The Falmen sure seem to appreciate it and of course the Seanchan are gone for now

Lanfear asking the LIGHT to protect Rand at the end is something interesting and NOT LOST ON ME

I REALLY ENJOYED IT and am looking forward to a full rewatch of S1 and S2!

Proclaimed across the sky in fire 🔥🐲

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

Harry wandered back from Dumbledore’s office in a daze. He continued to question what he could possibly learn about how to defeat Voldemort by taking a trip down memory lane, as he had since these meetings had started, but now he felt added stirrings of discomfort. Like his skin was a size too small or he’d walked through an invisible spiderweb.

Voldemort, back when he’d been Tom Riddle, was… very much like Harry. Dumbledore could say that their choices defined them and made them different or whatever, and maybe he was right. But seeing how Riddle was talked about by the matron, how Dumbledore treated him in that first meeting – it made Harry realise how very easily he could have been the evil outcast, if anyone had listened to the Dursleys’ lies, or found out about his parseltongue abilities, or if he hadn’t already been lauded as some hero since he’d been a baby. As much as he didn’t like the fame and the wild mood swings of the magical population’s attitude towards him, Harry knew those expectations had guided his path and moulded who he was becoming.

Dumbledore’s actions were… well, unkind was possibly the nicest way to put it. He had instantly judged an eleven-year old as irredeemable, pretended to light all his worldly possessions on fire, and didn’t seem to find anything wrong with how he’d acted even sixty years later. Yes, Riddle hadn’t exactly helped his case with that talk of hurting things, but Harry had seen that desperation for connection, for belonging, that he’d once felt.

And then there was the added fact that he was being shown private moments from Riddle’s history. Harry knew how he’d feel if someone was shown his memories of life at the Dursleys. He still hadn’t told anyone about the cupboard under the stairs, and the rest his friends only guessed at.

Maybe he was reading too far into things, or projecting his own situation. Maybe Ron and Hermione were right and his saving-people-thing was showing. After all, hadn’t Riddle grown up to be a megalomaniac who led a hate group that murdered and tortured muggles and muggleborns? Maybe there should be limits to Harry’s empathy.

But Harry’s secret power was love, according to Dumbledore. If caring was what differentiated him from Voldemort – and especially since he couldn’t seem to stop it even when it left him gutted, cold and alone – then dammit, Harry was going to care.

So, Harry did what he did best (?) and leapt headfirst without looking.

Ducking into a dusty, moonlit classroom, he leaned against a desk, pulled out a bit of parchment and quill, and started to write.

Voldemort,

So, on a scale of one to ten, how pissed would you be

Hope you haven’t murdered anyone lately oh wait it’s you

Hey. I wanted you to know that Dumbledore showed me the memory of you receiving your Hogwarts letter. At the orphanage. With the whole fire wardrobe thing. 

I feel like I should apologise. It definitely seems like an invasion of privacy and I didn’t want to know, but now I do, and I’m sorry?

Is this weird? This is weird.

Anyway, I also saw the matron talking about you, but I know that sometimes people lie for stupid reasons, so here’s a one-time opportunity of me asking for your side of the story. If you want.

You probably don’t care.

– Harry (Potter)

Before Ron or Hermione found out or he could think better of it, Harry snuck up to the owlery and tied the letter to a nondescript school owl. (Hedwig was incensed that he would use another bird and pecked at his head a few times before flying off to the rafters to give him the cold shoulder, but there was no way he’d send his beloved owl off to Voldemort. Sorry, school bird.)

He returned to the Gryffindor common room as soon as the owl flew off, putting the letter as far from his mind as possible. After all, it wasn’t like he’d receive a response.

(thus, friends absent speak)

[foxymoxynoona]

Could you do a drabble for Amended where Jungkook & Bella are out with all of their kids having family time and suddenly run into his evil ex from school and she tries to make Bella feel insecure because she is salty🧂 but Jungkook puts her in her place since he regretted not defending Bella from her back then and this is the perfect opportunity to show her he is happy with his family 🙏🏼🥹 ❤️

I have not deleted any of these drabble requests! bet you thougth I'd forgotten but I have not! I just wait for the right moment and inspiration. I hope you enjoy this.

Story: Amended Length: 4321 words CW: language, some innuendo, fluff Timeline: June, Kai is almost 10 months old

“You didn’t have to come,” Jungkook said, hand on her lower back as the sliding doors opened to greet them. “Me and the kids could have handled it.”

“I want out of the house,” Isabella gritted out. “You didn’t have to come.” Jungkook gave her a look, not even bothering with that. No way was he going to let Isabella make a baby supply run by herself, not when he felt like it was his fault they’d run so low on everything in the first place. Usually he swung by the grocery store or Target on his way home from work to grab the diapers, wipes, baby food pouches, Desitin, replacement pacifiers or teething rings or more socks because Kai seemed to have been born with an anti-sock forcefield that made them evaporate within minutes of being put on, but Eomma and Isabella were determined he was going to wear grippy socks as he began toddling around the house. 

Lily sighed dramatically and dangled from the handle of the cart, “I’m boring.”

“You’re bored,” Ezra corrected, then amended, “Actually you’re pretty boring too.”

“Ezra,” Isabella warned.

“Ok guys, we can divide and conquer and get this over quickly,” Jungkook suggested. Isabella admired his pep, even if it was also grating right now. They were all staticky. In the past four weeks they’d passed head colds around twice, with Kai teething and not sleeping on top of it. How could he sleep when he had just discovered how to get to his feet and how much more trouble he could cause in that position? Isabella felt like she hadn’t let the house for anything except work in three weeks, and not even that in four days since she’d been the last –and hopefully the very last– round of the cold. 

Ezra sniffled and Isabella eyed him suspiciously. There better not be another round. It was June! The weather was finally starting to warm up, shouldn’t they be free of colds now? She was not sure that Jungkook was right that the warmer weather made cold viruses thaw out and be active… but she also hadn’t remembered to google it to disprove it yet…

“Kids,” Jungkook warned as Lily’s and Ezra’s bickering bubbled up. Isabella was better at tuning it out. They were all just so restless, and a trip to Baby Depot definitely wasn’t going to fix it, but maybe if they hurried it up here, they could do something fun. Like what? She had no fucking clue, but she’d think of it in the car. Was the ice cream place open yet? Playground? Kai was probably going to be ready for a nap by then though… 

“List?” Jungkook asked Isabella. “Break it out for us, who’s doing what.”

Isabella decided maybe Jungkook’s tactic was right here. Divide and conquer. So she divvied up the list: Ezra on unscented wipes and diapers, Lily on exactly three new baby books, Jungkook on a baby fence they could set up in the yard and maybe a ride on toy because Kai seemed jealous of Ezra and Lily riding their bikes in the driveway during the nicer weather, and Isabella would fill up on baby snacks and formula. Last time Jungkook and Ezra had made the choices and when she had pointed they seemed to have forgotten the beet-banana cereal puffs Kai liked, the two had responded simultaneously “Yuck.” 

Jungkook took Kai, Ezra took the cart, Lily dragged her feet as if she had the worst job in the world even though Isabella knew she’d probably forget herself reading all the baby books and they’d have to go fetch her. The brief silence of standing alone unnerved Isabella. How strange to be alone. 

She grabbed a basket and set out for the baby food aisle. Feeding Kai had been such a different experience from the very beginning, when she’d struggled and then given up on nursing. That had been hard to accept but ultimately it had removed such a major stressor from his babyhood, and made her realize just how much time she had spent stressed about it with Lily and Ezra, worried if they were getting enough, worried why they didn’t like the solid foods she tried to introduce later, worried if she was nursing them at the wrong times and that’s why they didn’t want to sleep through the night, worry if she was eating or drinking the wrong things for them to get secondhand through her milk. Damn it was nice that Jungkook could and did handle so many of the feedings. Nothing sexier than watching Jungkook bounce a baby in one arm and mix a bottle one-handed –except maybe watching him airplane Kai on his shoulder as they passed the end of Isabella’s aisle in search of their items. 

Bottles weren’t the end of Kai’s difference in food. His first solid food had been a dumpling stolen from Jungkook’s plate in a split second at just over five months. He’d quickly learned that grabbing fistfuls of rice was impossible for his parents to wrestle away. Beyond the Asian foods that were a diet staple so young, Isabella also had the time and money and energy to make finger foods for him alongside their meals. She’d about killed herself trying to get the same healthy diet for Ezra and Lily, but also been very reliant on the pouches she could get through food donation programs. Feeding Kai was more joy than stress, and the whole family got in on seeing how he would react to whatever food they had him try. The weirdo had a particular love for lemons –which had Jungkook demanding to know what happened, since he happened to hate lemons, as if Kai would just inherit his exact food tastes!

Smiling at all of this, Isabella perused the “quick” meals available –the little trays of cut up turkey and mashed potatoes and peas or macaroni and cheese they kept stocked for quick meals when they needed to be out the door for kids’ activities. She actually looked forward to that kind of busy again. Being stuck at home with sick kids, managing without a sick husband, or languishing with her own sickness knowing Jungkook was carrying more of the load solo had been frustrating, to say the least. Now it was back to normal, for a whole two weeks until the kids got out of school for the summer. Time moved so quickly.

Healthy healthy, we’re all healthy now, what’s good for immune support? She mused, chucking her selections into the basket until it grew heavy on her forearm. She still needed to get the formula too. What a great feeling. She had grown used to not having to count coins after years of living in what felt like luxury with Jungkook, but she wondered when the day would come that she stopped noticing that she wasn’t thinking about it. Would she ever truly take it for granted?

She heard the shriek of a baby and glanced over her shoulder as a toddler sprinted past –not hers. The little girl ran to her parent in another aisle, out of Isabella’s view and concern, but the glance trailed her vision across another woman in the aisle, heavily pregnant and staring right back at her.

“Isabella,” she greeted evenly.

“Jasmin,” Isabella returned, mirroring her tone. She looked casually back to the food, feeling prickles of displeasure along her scalp but not wanting to let Jasmin know she felt any which way about seeing her. Pregnant, huh? Isabella would admit only to herself she wasn’t thrilled to learn of any positive developments in Jasmin’s life. She didn’t want to be petty. Much. 

To her surprise, Jasmin followed up with, “How’s it going?”

“Good.” Isabella knocked a few more things into her basket before reciprocating, “How about you?”

Was there hesitation in Jasmin’s voice, or was she only waiting for Isabella to look at her before she rushed out, “Great. Things have been busy.” 

“I imagine so.” 

“I’m due in six weeks,” Jasmin volunteered and Isabella didn’t know whether to hide or convey her feelings of I could not care less and never want to see you again. Jasmin continued regardless, “I feel as big as a house! But Daniel says it didn’t go to my face, probably because of all the prenatal pilates I did.”

“I… didn’t know you did pilates,” Isabella said because of everything suddenly happening, that felt like the most surprising thing, even more so than Jasmin suddenly chatting her up with a tone that didn’t sound totally nice but also not totally bitchy. Obviously she was trying to brag, but Isabella was around a lot of pregnant women and that was pretty normal… oh geez, had she done that too?

“I have for years, since I moved to LA. Daniel wanted me to take a rest but I wasn’t about to let this baby ruin my body.”

Isabella couldn’t resist it, she shrugged and said, “I’ve had three and don’t feel ruined at all, but I can’t imagine the pressure you live under when that’s your thing. I’m glad you’ve found something to help–”

“I wouldn’t say it’s my thing– what do you mean by that?” Jasmin asked, head tilting. “Caring about the way I look?”

“Being fit and attractive and all that,” Isabella offered. She meant it as an insult but suspected it didn’t sound that way in her voice, but that Jasmin was likely looking for the insult anyway.

“Oh,” Jasmin laughed, “I guess my style has changed.” It was clearly Isabella’s cue to notice for real just how fully Jasmin’s style really had shifted. She’d come from money but made such an effort to be cool and anti-everything in high school. Isabella couldn’t recall what she’d worn the last time they ran into each other in the jewelry store. “I guess soon I’ll be dressing like you.”

Isabella heard it as an insult and felt her haunches raise as she resisted the urge to look down at her own outfit, as if Jasmin had any power to make her feel unworthy. So what, black leggings and a heather gray top from a six-month Stitch Fix subscription she’d let Mikayla talk her into might not be the height of fashion, but fuck off maybe?

“Because I am so fucking sick of maternity dresses,” Jasmin continued as if there hadn’t been an uncomfortable pause. “Even the tailored ones. It’s not about showing off my body, I just feel… I can’t believe you did this twice but it was probably easier since you were so young, hm?”

“Um… I’ve done it three times,” Isabella said again. “And…” She didn’t know how to respond to this because, try as she might, she couldn’t find anything mean in it. Jasmin just seemed to be…sharing? Maybe it was a little barbed but… definitely nothing compared to her old hostility.

“Three times?” Jasmin clarified. She glanced at the baby foods in Isabella’s basket, mouth open, before realizing, “Oh, you and… you had another one?”

“Yep.”

“Wow. Three is– I can’t imagine. I’m definitely done after this. Daniel said he’d like two but he can be pregnant next time if he wants it so bad,” Jasmin said, and laughed and gave Isabella this look like you know what I mean? 

Isabella stumbled over her answer, “I think Jungkook would have liked more too but… three is good.”

“Three is great,” the very man said from behind her, shuffling noisily into the aisle with Kai supermanning on his shoulder and the awkward babygate in hand while he kicked a box ahead of him. “Hi,” he said breezily to Jasmin, then to Isabella, “I got the pink and purple little scooter thing for him instead of the red one since his bouncer was blue so he doesn’t get weird ideas about colors for boys or girls.”

“Oh. Great.” Isabella nodded. This was actually something they had agreed on before Kai was born, so she did not understand why he was clarifying that now. 

He set the babygate down and flipped Kai into his arms, their precious son squealing with deep belly giggles about it, exacerbated by Jungkook’s fingers tickling his belly.

“Wow. He’s cute,” Jasmin commented, watching every movement Jungkook and Kai made. Isabella would have loved to read her mind just then. Kai was really fucking cute, and so was Jungkook, and the two of them together were painfully cute to witness. Was Jasmin thinking how that could have been her? Wondering if having such a cute baby was the only reason Jungkook had gotten together with Isabella? Wishing her husband could compare in any way to Jungkook (Isabella was sure he could not)? 

Or was she simply seeing her future, when the baby in her own belly would be out in the world and giggling upside down playing with his dad?

“He is,” Isabella belatedly added. “We lucked out, each kid was just so much better than I imagined. Everything worked out so well.”

Jasmin flipped her hair over her shoulder and agreed, “Daniel always says that, how you know it’s not the end until things have worked out.”

“Daniel is her husband,” Isabella explained to Jungkook.

“Well, fiance,” Jasmin said and flapped her hand with a honking big ring on it, as if she both wanted them to see and not see. “I didn’t want to be pregnant at the wedding and have guests thinking that’s why we got married, so we’ll do it in Bali next year.”

“Oh, that’s a big trip with a baby,” Jungkook mused. “We didn’t take the kids to Korea until they were older, now Kai will have to wait for a bit. I think he’d drive us nuts on the plane, he wants to move all the time.”

“Maybe you can fly private,” Isabella suggested, not sure what else to say. She trained her gaze on Kai, wishing she could just scoop her son up and skip away from this awkward conversation. 

Jasmin laughed, “Ok, Daniel is a C.O.O. but we aren’t that rich. Maybe in a few years. He’s been so successful and now he and my dad are thinking about a joint venture together. It’s… you know, work stuff,” she said with a grin. “I won’t explain venture capital.”

It must be a jab, and yet Jungkook didn’t seem to feel it, just agreed, “Good, I don’t have the brain cells to spare because apparently I have more kiddie books to memorize– Lily, that is way more than three,” he called as Lily shuffled down the aisle, at least eight books stacked precariously in her arms. 

“Yeah I know but I can’t decide if Kai needs to learn colors or numbers or letters or shapes first and those books are cute but kind of boring, so I think we should get him these ones about bugs and sharks too.”

Jungkook clicked his tongue and flipped Kai again and then gave Isabella a playful look, lips pursed until he asked, “What do you think, Mom, it’s a good point.” 

“We already have so many books,” Isabella reminded him.

“Yeah but maybe if I’d read more, I wouldn’t have done so much dumb shit as a teenager,” he pointed out. 

“I don’t think literacy was your problem,” Isabella countered.

Jungkook laughed and in a surprising twist, asked Jasmin, “What do you think?” 

Jasmin could not have looked more flustered. Isabella couldn’t understand what was going through her head at all right now as she looked between the four of them and stammered out, 

“I think… that… reading is good. Maybe I should have read more too.”

Lily shuffled through the books in her arms, then handed over a board book with the suggestion, “Here you go, you should get this for your baby. It’s a good one. I already read it.”

“Oh. I guess… ok…” Jasmin glanced at the cover of the book but mostly at Lily, probably trying to figure out whether Jungkook was actually her biological dad or not. Lily always thought it was funny when people thought he was and didn’t bother to correct them because why bother? She loved mysteries and unknowns.

“Why did you pick that one up, we already have that one,” Jungkook realized. 

“I was too lazy to put it back.”

Kai mirrored Jungkook’s laughter, and Isabella too rolled her eyes and snickered and didn’t stop Lily as she wedged the books into the basket on her arm. All of them

“Where’s Ezra with the cart?” Isabella wondered. Being on edge near Jasmin was wearing her out and she was ready to be gone from this confusing encounter. Was she paranoid or did the way Jasmin kept looking between them mean something? It wasn’t bad, but that made it even more alarming. Jasmin was not behaving like she should.

“Ezra!” Jungkook called. Kai’s eyes went wide, then he laughed and let out a loud babble, clearly trying to mimic the yell. 

“Appa!” Ezra called back from a few aisles over.

“You must all be very… busy,” Jasmin said. Kai suddenly decided he wanted Isabella to hold him and tried to leap from Jungkook’s arms, but in doing so saw Lily and decided he wanted his sister to hold him instead.

“Don’t set him down,” Isabella warned, “He’ll take off.”

“He started walking early,” Jungkook explained to Jasmin. “You’ll think they’re terrors once they start crawling because they’re so damn fast, but just wait.”

“Thanks, I’ll remember that…” She trailed off as Ezra appeared with the cart at the far end of the aisle, lanky frame riding the footbar as he pushed it along. 

“They didn’t have the wipes we usually get so I got a different kind,” he announced. “They’re still unscented though. Kai-Kai, do you want to ride in the cart?” Ezra asked, hunching down in front of his little brother wedged in Lily’s arms.

In the moment of watching her kids –and checking the label to make sure the wipes were genuinely unscented so as not to aggravate Kai’s skin or cause Jungkook to whine about the overpowering scent– she started as Jungkook’s hand slid up her back on his way to grab the basket of baby food and books she’d set on the floor

“Is that everything? Can we get out of here? Monkeybars are calling my name,” Jungkook announced as he set the basket in the cart.

“Noooo,” Lily whined.

“Look, I’m sorry that you still can’t beat me in a monkeybar race. Get good,” Jungkook teased.

“Daaaad,” Lily scowled and punched his arm playfully.

“What did I tell you, thumbs out,” he corrected, but her thumbs were out and she used them to give him two thumbs down and stick her tongue out. “Yeah I’m leaving you in the monkeybar dust.”

Through all this Jasmin just watched, until Isabella joked, “Something for you and Daniel to look forward to.”

“I don’t know yet if we’re having a boy or a girl,” she said. “I want it to be a surprise.”

“Either one is good, and they’ll surprise you either way.”

Lily set Kai down, exactly as she had been told not to do. Kai took his little uncertain toddling steps away –not even that fast, but Lily and Ezra playfully pretended like he was zooming full speed, slow-running after him and shouting, “Catch that baby!” Kai clearly thought he was really hauling ass and getting away with something.

Jungkook’s hand slid around Isabella’s waist, a firm but subtle hold as he stared after the kids, a bright smile on his face. Isabella appreciated the touch but also felt embarrassed for Jasmin to see it, ike she might think this was a performance for her. It might be, but it also wasn’t. Jungkook was a handsy guy.

If Jasmin noticed the hand, she didn’t show it, just agreed, “Yes. It’s going to be great.” Isabella found herself hoping that was sincere, that Jasmin felt that way about her life, and Daniel, and this baby she had on the way which may or may not have been planned. She certainly wasn’t going to ask. She of all people knew the planning didn’t dictate the love and joy that came afterwards, and that life had a way of surprising you with the absolute worst but also, sometimes, the absolute best. Maybe Jasmin would wind up being a good mom, the way Jungkook and Isabella had wound up being pretty good parents too. 

Jungkook pulled away to wedge the gate and scooter into the cart, before saying to Jasmin,

“Well, good luck and congratulations. We’ve got to get these kids some ice cream and to a playground.”

“Wait, why the ice cream?” Isabella caught, because that had not been part of the plan.

He dropped his voice lower and leaned in and whined, “Because I want some, it’s finally warm enough outside it won’t give me brain freeze.”

“That’s not how brain freeze works,” she laughed.

“Bellaaaa, buy us ice cream.”

“Yeah yeah, go,” she laughed, “Push the cart, Muscles.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Isabella paused, turning back to Jasmin, belatedly considering that she hadn’t been thinking or feeling anything at all about Jasmin for the last few minutes, really. The thing she’d feared, the jab she had waited for, didn’t come. It was like running into anyone else from high school in the store: a little awkward but inoffensive. 

If Jungkook was making a point right now, he’d done it exactly right, by being playful and casual. This was exactly what Isabella would have wanted Jasmin to see, their family close and loving and happy. It didn’t feel like an act because it wasn’t. Jasmin could see that, she must. Maybe she was jealous or maybe she was just as happy with her C.O.O. fiance and Bali wedding and baby on the way, but Isabella found she just… didn’t really care. Jasmin’s life or feelings had no bearing on her at all. She didn’t even feel the need for any kind of revenge, or confirmation that Jasmin’s life was worse or anything like that. It didn’t matter. Jasmin didn’t need to fail for Isabella to know that her life had taken a major winning turn. She had no envy for anyone. She had exactly what she wanted.

“I hope things go well for you. New babies can be hard but just remember it gets better every week. I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“I know that,” Jasmin said, maybe a little snippy. Isabella snorted. Ok, still a bitch maybe? “Anyway. Have fun with your ice cream.”

“Oh, we do,” Isabella assured her, then strolled off before realizing it might have sounded a little more coy than she really meant it. Uh well, whatever! If Jasmin thought she and Jungkook got freaky with ice cream, so be it. She took the last few steps in the aisle at a faster pace and jumped into Jungkook’s back just before he’d disappeared from view of the aisle. His response was to reach back and smack her on the ass loudly. 

“Hey!”

“Hey yourself, I thought we had a family rule about jumping on people without warning,” he reminded, which they did, and everyone in the family sucked at it. Kids and over-energetic husbands would be themselves, so why couldn’t she get away with it too?

“No that way, that way Kai!” the kids cheered, herding Kai towards the cash registers at the front. Isabella rested her chin on top of Jungkook’s head and squeezed his shoulders before sliding off. Rather than let her go, he threw his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side.

“You ok?” he asked.

“I’m very ok.”

“I didn’t know how to handle it,” he admitted. “Never expected to run into her here. I can’t imagine her as a mom.”

“Well… people probably said that about me too,” Isabella pointed out. “Maybe it changes her for the better. She wasn’t as bitchy as she used to be.”

“Was she being… nice?” he asked, incredulous.

“Maybe? I don’t know. And I weirdly… don’t care. I mean, it was fucking high school.”

He kissed her temple and whispered, “Yeah, but I’m still sorry.”

“It’s been one hell of an apology,” she whispered back. 

“Want me to say it again tonight?” he whispered again. “Down… there?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“No. ‘I’m sorry’ is too short. Maybe…all these books you’ve been memorizing?”

“Fuck, I’ll be down there all night!”

“Hm,” she grinned. “Hm,” she said again, and giggled and dove ahead as he swatted at her ass, off to scoop up Kai before he pulled down a rack of toddler sunglasses because Ezra and Lily were distracted by someone’s small dog they’d brought into the store.

[okaystoptellingmetomakeanaccount]

Boo Frank Miller Scrooge jumpscare

Now that i’ve got your attention:

Here look ifnonity dime thoughts im so quick whatsoit spoilers under the cut

It was first just thoughts quickly typed but then it became more of a review so enjoy the first infinity dime review on blumber i guess

So my main gripe with the comic (aside from that its short as balls) is that they skip the most interesting part. The actual traveling through the multiverse. That was what I thought me and everyone was looking forward to. To see Scrooge traveling through the multiverse and meet his other selves and react to that. But Aaron just went nah bitch: “a few weeks later”.

We have a prologue beautifully drawn by Paolo Mottura (who even though he greatly did the atmospheric dark Christmas should have done the action sequence imo) that is available to read in the previews anyways. Then chapter 2 which is half available to read in the previews as well. Little confrontation between Scrooge and evil Scrooge or whatever which is nice and all. Then we skip to the real ‘meat’ of the story and its just a really long action sequence…. Greatly drawn by Alessandro Pastrovicchio, but still just a very long action sequence. Maybe this is very usual for Marvel, i don’t know, i haven’t really read enough Marvel comics to know what is usual, but we have what is basically a 12 page long prologue, fight fight punch punch (insert don rosa reference here) and then epilogue.

And like this could mostly be due to the short page count, but had it been longer, i wonder if we would’ve just gotten a more drawn out action sequence instead of more actual story development. Because there was a very deliberate choice made to skip ahead to the fighting and have that be the main attraction. Such a fight scene should be a nice reward at the end after a buildup that makes us feel like this action-packed climax is deserved. After we see Scrooge struggle through time and universes to get to work together with himself, we see the result of that hard work in the fight scene. We can’t just skip over the build up and plop us in a “and then they punched each other for the rest of the chapter”. The action sequence would have probably been quite nice at the end of a longer story, but right now it feels like it’s taking the place of an actual storyline.

Because the entire thing is literally: there is a bad Scrooge (very well set up though). He steals from everyone including the Scrooge we know. They find a way to get to bad Scrooge. They get to bad Scrooge. They fight bad Scrooge. They defeat bad Scrooge. It’s just, they go there, they fight him, over. Everybody clap.

Bad Scrooge himself is great. Really well set up. Is it a dumb fucking Rosa thing? Yes it is, I’m my country’s biggest Rosa stan (aside from Diederik Jekel probably) whatcha gonna do about it?

“What if? Donald and the boys never arrived on Bear mountain…” is an immaculate premise. Which, though it has been done better before, is still really cleverly utilized here. It’s also a very good showing of what we mean when we say that comic Scrooge is always one step away from being a villain. He is no different than Glomgold. One is not good and the other is not evil. One just got lucky with family. The other did not.

Then the ending needed to be wholesome and redeem bad Scrooge and uhuhejshsh but sure

rosareference.cbr loaded

You have the literal multiverse at your fingertips. Then you decide to reference Don Rosa and Don Rosa only. Which I mean wasn’t a surprise I literally predicted it in that long speculation post of mine, but it still feels like a missed opportunity. When the army of Donald’s gets send in, there isn’t even one wearing an all black and white suit. Would it have been really so difficult to get a small DT17 reference in there?

What annoys me, and I find surprising considering the enormous talent of the artists, is that all the multiverse characters look the same. Like on the last page, all the Donalds look exactly the same. There is no sense of individuality for even one of them. They give more the sense that they all came out of a cloning machine.

Even Scrooge. He traveled the entire multiverse and only got one guy who isn’t himself from a different point in time? Or maybe it’s future him, could be! Why not make it a time travel story where a Scrooge from the future has gone mad with power? Because the Scrooges we see are almost all the same. It’s a fun reference of course, but this ain’t showing multiverse. And it’s not like there aren’t already established AU versions of Scrooge. Even then, a little creativity would have still been nice. For an example of such a multiverse story I would like to point to Crisis On Infinite Darkwings, which does a phenomenal job at showing multiverse diversity. Infinity Dime wouldn’t need to do all the pop culture references Crisis does, but again, a little more creativity in the designs would not have hurt at all.

And now that i’ve been yapping for long enough anyways, let’s talk about the length too. It’s not even 30 pages. It’s 29. The artists do a good job at making it feel big and grand. No matter though how epic and great they made and could have made it. If your comic is shorter than the average Donald Duck gag comic, it’s gonna be difficult to make it feel like “his greatest adventure yet”. Then comes with that the irregular layout. There are a few double page spreads and almost all pages are just a few ‘panels’. Instead of an usual 8 or 6 panels per page (and so 8 or 6 panels to develop your story) it is usually 3 or even 1. The amount of panels make the comic even shorter than it already is. Christmas on Bear mountain will likely take you longer to read through.

Not that irregular layout is bad. I love irregular layouts! I love seeing them. Usually they really help elevating my enjoyment of a duck comic! But when you know you have a big story you want to tell, and a limited amount of pages, it is a risk to spread your story even thinner by having many big splash pages where the pretty drawing takes front and center instead of the story.

Then it makes it EVEN SHORTER because there is not a lot of dialogue. Mostly because half of it is action without that much talking. There is a pretty fun way of using the narrator boxes. They are quite melodramatic but I like em.

Jason Aaron’s introductory page was very sweet.

Regardless of the quality of this story, I really, really hope that these kinds of releases continue. It was very fun and special to read something like this.

If these do continue, I would absolutely love an actual comic series. A longer continuing story please! Pretty please? This page count is just not enough to tell stories like these and more pages to properly flesh out things would be absolutely wonderful. I’m personally not that looking forward to the upcoming Marvel parodies, but if original stories continued, it would be the first American comic series I followed.

I cannot overstate enough how much I want more Marvel Disney comics actually. I need them. I get what people mean now on here when they say “going absolutely feral”. I feel it.

Oh and apparently I have 100 followers now on this blog so that’s nice. Consider this the celebratory post! My review of my most anticipated comic. To end it look at the only Mangiatordi pages in here because looking at Mangiatordi art makes all well

Damn actually this one isnt even that good what happened Vitale- sorry no great comic more please marvel disney

[toastandjamie]

Okay so, I wanna preface this by saying that I have not read Sanderson’s other books so this is not a discussion about his actual abilities as a writer, and I’m not saying that he’s in anyway a bad writer. I do not envy the situation he was in At All, it must’ve been incredibly difficult to be given the responsibility of finishing such a long and beloved story as Wheel of Time. Trying to honor RJ’s story and characters when you are jumping in at the climax and expected to finish it in a way that the fans find satisfying when there is no way to make Every fan happy with the ending. Okay with that out of the way let’s talk.

So i have a lot of feelings about the final three books of Wheel of Time. There were many parts I enjoyed and there were also parts I was disappointed by. Personally, I felt like many aspects of the last three books felt rushed and incomplete and the pacing a bit odd in places and a lot of that comes down to the fact that it was originally meant to be one giant book, but like- that would’ve been ridiculous and I agree with the choice to break it up into multiple books. However I honestly think they should’ve just broke it up into more than three books to properly to pace them. There were a lot of things that Needed to happen that I think ended up causing certain things to get cut, for instance I do believe a big portion of both Mat and Min’s storylines in those last books were cut for time, specifically I think there was probably originally a lot more time dedicated to dealing with the Seanchen. What I believe to have happened is that Sanderson was given the notes about where the Black Tower needed to be and decided to dedicate the time to it and in exchange he cut the Seanchen plot line for pacing since the Seanchen were Technically already solved. Technically. Now controversial opinion but I did actually like Androl, however, I think he and the rest of the Black Tower suffered from having their storyline rushed. The plot line in the black tower should’ve started after the Ashaman with Rand betrayed them as we got to see the corruption already seeping into the Black Tower. Sadly that’s not what we got, but it honestly deserved an entire book to properly introduce it and it would’ve benefited from having pre-established characters that we cared about be more involved. Other parts of the story I think deserved more time dedicated to, the actual process of stealing the horn of Valere back from the White Tower, I wanted a heist mission with Faile and the Band but that is just personal preference lol. More time learning about Slayer and the red veiled Aiel, they were introduced and then promptly stopped actually mattering outside of being enemy fodder. Literally everything about Faine and the Evil of Shadar Logoth, Faine dying so quickly will forever disappoint me, he was a main antagonist since book one and his death felt very quick and unceremonious, like just tying up loose ends.

Next is issues with characterization. Once again I do not envy Sanderson’s job here at all. This type of thing isn’t easy but I can also see exactly where the issues were. Sanderson by his own admission didn’t understand Mat, and he Did get better at writing him but the damage was already done unfortunately and there wasn’t enough time to properly fix the issues with Mat’s characterization. Mat was not the only character whose characterization was flattened however, Aviendha and Tuon for instance also lacked a lot of their original nuance. I think it’s very clear where Sanderson struggled and that is with unreliable narrators. Characters that Sanderson seems to both enjoy the most and successfully write in a compelling way are characters who very straight forward and honest, their internal monologue matches their actions, and they reliably narrate their stories. Characters like Perrin and Galad thrived under Sanderson’s writing style. Androl is a very obvious example of this archetype being one that he’s comfortable writing. The issue he faced with both Mat and Tuon is that their unreliable narrators who act inconsistently to an outsider perspective and I think for Mat especially Sanderson struggled to get past his first impression of Mat. The biggest issue with Sanderson’s version of Mat is that his character arc was reset, Sanderson’s Mat was still running away from his destiny and trying to avoid Rand, something Mat had already worked past in books four and five with Melindra and the Rhavin incident teaching him to accept his destiny and embrace his role as Rand’s General. This meant that Mat and Tuon’s relationship lost a large part of its nuance and Mat’s actions felt out of character and immature for the point in the story we reached. There’s also the difference in how RJ wrote Mat’s “flirtatious play boy” status versus how Sanderson portrays it and it can feel a bit jarring at times, and just in general, I feel like Sanderson often wrote Mat as “stupid” where he very much isn’t. He’s reckless and mischievous but never stupid and I think Sanderson equated his recklessness with stupidity in some places.

Writers play favorites, and it does show, RJ’s favorite was Mat and Sanderson’s favorite was Perrin and both are very obvious preferences. Poor Rand was neither writers favorite but it’s okay because as the protagonist he at least got consistent page time dedicated to him. RJ definitely paid more attention to Mat than Perrin and Sanderson did vice versa. So I’m not complaining just because I wanted Mat to get more page time. My issues with it are that Mat ended up feeling a bit underwhelming during the last battle. Where all other characters got to have their spotlight moment during a Memory of Light, Mat didn’t; and perhaps that’s because Towers of Midnight was originally part of a Memory of Light so Mat had got his big moment in the final book during the original draft. The Seanchen overall felt like it was resolved in an underwhelming manner, as did the Shadar Logoth plot line and it just so happens that both of those plot lines were Mat’s and I do think Sanderson’s bias informed his decision at least subconsciously when choosing which storylines to trim down.

In summary I would’ve rather Sanderson made it five more whole books if it meant that all the plot lines could be given enough time to be resolved in a fully satisfactory way.

[autisticjoshrusso]

⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

Hi! Not sure if you actually meant 10 sentences of if you are truly evil and genuinely wanted 30 (/lh), but uh well I started writing and turns out you're getting 30 anyway so congrats <3 This is also very much FRESH off the presses no edit no beta so yknow... it'll get edited and expanded in the final fic etc.

This is the first scene, in which Interim Captain Hen (because I am ignoring the whole end of the s7 finale <3) clocks the Grindr notif sound going off in her firehouse KJDSFHJK

Ka-dlunk! Hen’s head snapped up from her book at the familiar sound, eyes widening in shock as she zeroed in on the source. Surely that wasn’t what she thought it was. But sure enough, Buck was picking up his phone, smirk growing on his face as he swiped to respond to the notification. He didn’t even bother to put down the book he was holding in his other hand, typing out a quick response before locking and setting his phone back down. He finally noticed Hen’s look as he did so, and responded with a look of confusion. “What?” “Really, Buck? At work?” Her shock had faded by then, replaced with a knowing raise of her brows and wry smile. A little huff of embarrassed laughter slipped out as he realized she’d recognized the notification sound, and he rolled his eyes in exasperation. “We’re just chatting, that’s all.” “Uh-huh… just don’t make me have to write you up for stealing a firetruck.” “Hey,” he protested, setting down his book to give her his full attention. “C’mon, you know I’m not that guy anymore. I’d never risk my job like that again.” Hen sighed softly and gave him a more sincere smile, easing up on the critical look. “I know, Buck. Just giving you a hard time, and making sure this isn’t gonna become a problem. Kinda my job, at least until Cap gets back.” His slightly defensive posture relaxed at that, and he matched her smile. “Yeah, I get it. And… thank you, for worrying. But I’m not going back to being Buck 1.0, alright, this is the beginning of Buck 4.0,” he insisted, which made her laugh. “Oh, Buck 3.0 realized he liked guys and had to upgrade to a whole new version?” “Exactly,” he agreed, and they shared another laugh before returning to their respective books. But she couldn’t help but watch him awhile longer over the top of the spine, a knot of worry forming in her stomach. He was a grown man responsible for his own choices; it was totally fine and normal to want to explore his sexuality and play the field for a while, anyway, and yet… He’d been uncharacteristically tight lipped about why he and Tommy broke up, and when she combined this new development with his history, something wasn’t adding up. Or rather, it was adding up, into a picture she didn’t like the looks of. Her Mother Hen instincts were insisting something really wrong was going on, but she’d done enough clucking for one day; all she could do now was watch, wait, and hope her instincts would be proven wrong.

Thanks for asking!! I probably won't get to your second ask right away bc whew writing.... but trust I am Looking and will do it... eventually TM

[gremlingottoosilly]

Just one shot [Military photographer!Reader x CoD characters] part two

You successfully escaped the hell of the art school — in debt, with nothing but your(shitty) camera, a diploma and disappointed parents who never understood your life choices. Being a part if the military wasn’t your first option, but what else can you do? And at least, people here are fun to work with…

Content: female!Reader, lots of bad jokes, young!Reader, nationality is not stated but has a strong accent, a little bit of angst, I have really vague understanding of the army, Reader is short&not really strong, slow burn, Reader is shy and not very social

Character focus in this chapter: Soap, Gaz

🤨📸

Being one of the few women on base, who were not constantly engaging in combat or military trainings, had more downsides than benefits. You are not just weaker than your fellow soldiers, since your profession let you escape the gym as long as you wanted, but also more desirable to pick on. Short, shy, forced to talk to everyone so you make photos for the yearbook of each unit, while working exclusively alone — by all means, you are the perfect victim to evil pranks and not very clever romance attempts.

Right now, for example, you were clinging to your camera, while desperately trying to look for the way to escape a soldier’s grasp without making too much noise or attack him directly. You are good with riffles, and the camera is heavy enough to be considered a weapon — but still, you are not a close combat fighter.

Of course, this guy was trying to ask you out — a typical behavior for boys who haven’t been in touch with reality for a whole months straight, and were seeing you as an easy target. You hated this and you hates the feeling of helplessness that came with such situations — but there was mostly nothing you could do.

— Aye, mate. I would advise yer stop bothering our fine lassie out here and shut yer puss.

Oh.

There he is, your prince with mohawk and accent that you still can’t quite process.

You never knew that seeing his weirdly serious expression would make you cheeks blush, but you decided to blame it on the general anxiety of this situation. A recruit who was harassing you quickly disappeared after a friendly hand of Soap resting on his shoulder. You didn’t exactly knew what he was saying to him, but it was clear, that not something all fun and cheerful.

And still, Johny — even if would never dare to call him that — saved you. Now you were standing in the hallway, with your camera held close to your chest, and shaky, still unstable legs.

— Thank you, sergeant. I was…well, I wasn’t expecting him to being so stubborn about wanting to know me.

— Yer were standing here like a deer in headlights. He was quite a munter, but why didn’t you said anything, lassie?

— Thought we were alone and it would be useless. Plus, I was really worried that he could broke my camera if I would refuse him too harshly, so…yeah.

You tried to smile, to make some silly joke out of this situation, but Soap clearly wasn’t convinced. If anything, he looked even more worried — and placed one hand on your shoulder, gently squeezing soft skin under your jacket. He tilted his head, now looking a little bit like a bird — cute, curious one. You tried not to think about how pretty his concerned eyes were, but failed.

— Next time, you gonna bring yer arse to me second some hackit would try to bother you again. Got it?

Ah yes, because you really want to bother your very attractive superior about some idiots trying to get to you. On the other hand, however…he looked really worried. And it’s not like you would be constantly clinging by his side — even though you would still need a few photos for the 141 album.

It wouldn’t hurt, to hang out with him and the other members a little bit more, right? For purely professional purposes, of course, you don’t want to seem like a silly little recruit who is hanging out with people way out of her league. Even if this is true, and they are way too cool for someone like you.

📸📸📸

— I’m just not sure whether he likes me or just tolerates me. I get mixed signals and I’m terrible at reading them.

— Mate, if Soap would hates you, he’ll be very vocal about it. You can’t just shut him up most of the time, so I doubt he hates you. Seems like the opposite, really.

Gaz was the easiest person to get along with — and the most friendly as well. Your photoshoots quickly became a way for you to share latest gossips and just chat in each other’s company for a little bit. You liked having a friend like him — while not particularly close one, he was also very acceptable of your way of (over)thinking and shy personality.

And he looked great in sunglasses.

It’s funny, because you actually hated making photos of people in sunglasses, darker lenses would always direct light right into the lense and would mirror everyone in front of it, but Gaz somehow make it less terrible — while looking like a freaking superhero movie character.

— You sure? He always uses his dialects on me and, um, I know English, but he somehow makes me feel like I don’t.

— What kind of words does he using? And you can always ask him to just speak normal English, you know.

— This would be insensitive! I appreciate his culture and don’t want to seem like an ignorant jerk. And, erm, he is calling me bonnie all the time, which is weird, because I am clearly not a rabbit.

Gaz froze in place for a second — a perfect pose for you to make another photo. Then he bursted out in pure laughter and, quite frankly, you have no idea what so funny about Soap basically calling you a bunny without any reason.

— And I thought I am bad at clues. He likes you, for real, if he calls you this.

— Wait, then what…what does this mean?

Gaz laughed again — a pure sound that is forcing you to also start giggling a little bit, only saving a little bit more stability in the camera because of your professionally trained and experienced hands. You smiled, trying not to look at him too much — but really, Gaz is very pretty when he is smiling.

So making a lot more photos feels a little bit obligatory.

— It means that he called you pretty. Like really, really pretty. Scottish dialect and everything.

Soap…called you pretty? Oh no. Oh no, no, no, you can’t have that! You both needs to be professional and…well, you really should stop thinking about these two guys. Way out of your league. You just a photographer, and they are legends.

Gaz patted your shoulder, bringing you to a little but awkward, but still warm hug. And to be quite honest, you never wanted to break this hug. Ever. Especially when he was holding you gently, in a way that didn’t feel threatening. Making you smile every second of it.

Do you have a multiple attraction problem?

[littleholmes]

I just think it’s interesting that Satoru’s fresh out of the prison realm and thinking about Suguru and has him near the top of his list of priorities. Megumi catches his attention too because he’s attached to Sukuna and he’s also on Satoru’s list of “things to do before I fight him”, but it seems the situation with Suguru comes even before that on his to-do list and, idk I just can’t stop thinking about it and all that it means.

It makes sense though. It’s really not for no reason that Suguru’s at the top of his mind. After all, Satoru went into the prison realm thinking about Suguru and being shocked that he was even Suguru walking around, let alone seeing his body being controlled by someone else. Satoru felt and saw Suguru’s residuals still inside Suguru’s body, and then Kenjaku’s control slipped and Suguru responded to Satoru, wanting to get Kenjaku out of his body after Satoru asked how he’d let himself get used by Kenjaku.

So he was in the prison realm thinking about that horrible shit for however long it’s been for him in there since time passes differently. Satoru was likely thinking through what could’ve happened, how and if Suguru’s still hanging on in there, who could be the puppeteer of his body, the list goes on. It makes sense that getting Suguru’s body away from Kenjaku is at the top of his list.

But I also think it’s interesting that Satoru said he wants to mourn Suguru’s body because that implies that while he was in the realm with his thoughts churning on how to reclaim Suguru’s body from Kenjaku, he wasn’t mourning the fact that Suguru’s body is being held captive or the role he himself played in Suguru’s body being available for Kenjaku because he didn’t make sure Suguru’s body was properly handled after the Christmas Eve situation (or dealing with the self-blame that comes with realizing that).

Suguru meant a great deal to Satoru and the fact that Kenjaku is out here using Suguru…it’s messed up. And it’s even more messed up considering it’s kinda his fault that Suguru’s body is under Kenjaku’s control. Satoru hasn’t even processed the grief that comes with not only losing Suguru but thinking his body is handled only to see it walking around a platform and being even more awful and downright evil than Suguru ever was even in his darkest chapter of life. Like…that’s next level. Then to hear that Satoru hasn’t even processed that, or grieved the puppeteering of Suguru’s body and his role in that? Yikes. (When that shoe drops that’s gonna be bad.)

And I think it’s even more interesting that 12/24 is such an important date to Satoru since Suguru was so important to him that he subconsciously picks Suguru’s death date for this next fight.

Kenjaku brings it up that it’s an interesting choice and Satoru does acknowledge that Kenjaku’s right that it would be messed up—but only because that’d mean Suguru would have died on 12/24 twice.

It could be said that it’s almost like he didn’t realize it was Suguru’s death date at first because when Kenjaku reminded him, he admitted the confusion of two death dates and his cocky confidence about winning the fight covered it up. But, generally speaking, 12/24 isn’t exactly the first considered option when presented with any number of dates through the end of the year to do something (unless you read a lot of manga because Christmas Eve and Christmas and Halloween seem to be the holidays when shit goes down), but Satoru picked 12/24, and I just find it fascinating because it points to how Suguru and Suguru’s death (and now Suguru’s body) are such an unconscious undercurrent of Satoru’s thoughts that 12/24 immediately comes to mind for the fight when given the current November date.

Idk I’m rambling but I found the end of this chapter so interesting because it highlighted how Satoru hasn’t grieved Suguru again (or maybe even really at all—but that’s another post), how Suguru is at the top of his thoughts and his agenda on what to handle post-prison realm, and how despite his facades, Satoru deeply cares about those he allows himself to truly get close to (with Suguru likely being one of the last).

[theweeklydiscourse]

I hate Netflix’s Shadow and Bone more every day - A baffling conversation between Zoya and Aleksander

“Maybe she wasn’t abducted. Maybe she was rescued, maybe she ran with them.”

I was re-watching this exchange between Zoya and the Darkling from season 1 of Shadow and Bone and there was something that stuck out to me. The two of them are discussing Alina’s presumed abduction, the Darkling is visibly agitated and stressed out while Zoya looks to be on the edge of saying something, but is hesitant with her words. She then suggests that Alina wasn’t abducted, but that she was rescued.

And I thought to myself: “Hang on, what? Why are you phrasing it like that”

What I’m referring to is Zoya’s curious use of the word “rescue” to describe what she believed happened to Alina. For some reason, this word choice stuck out to me and really puzzled me with its usage in this scene. Because just after she suggests this, Zoya starts going in a different direction where she says that Alina most likely ran off due to the pressure of being a sun summoner.

So why use the word rescue?

At this point, Zoya is still on the Darkling’s side and believes in his cause. It is only after witnessing the shadow fold fiasco that she has some epiphany and switches sides. Rescue is a word that has a specific and unambiguously positive connotation, it means saving someone from a difficult or dangerous situation. It makes no sense that Zoya would use such a word on this context because what exactly would Alina need rescuing from?

She was treated well at the little palace, there was no immediate threats to her life there due to her security measures and during the fete, she seemed to be having a good time. So why would Zoya use the word “rescue” unless…she was given preemptive insight by the writers into matters she would have no way of knowing otherwise. This preemptive insight is drawn from thin air for Zoya, it is not a reflection of her observational skills or inside knowledge, it is the writer’s clumsy way of saying that the Darkling was holding Alina prisoner. Because the only reason why Zoya would phrase it this way is if she somehow knew that the Darkling had evil intentions all along.

But that also makes no sense because at that point, Zoya was still allied with him and onboard with the plan. The whole reason why she switched to Alina’s side was because of her moral objections to the Darkling’s methods as well as the loss of her Aunt that occurred in the last episode. So there’s no reason why she would characterize the situation like that.

From the beginning, the writers have been like “Ooooh is the little palace a sanctuary? Or is it a prison? *gasp* and you didn’t even notice how quickly those lines became blurred ooooh the thematic resonance.” It’s so stupid and this is a problem that can be seen throughout the entire show. Where certain characters will say things that make no sense unless they somehow have already read the script and act like they know the ending before it even happens.

[esterzach]

Second lesson

I have no shame. Feel free to ignore it. I know my English is not even close to enough to do this properly. Also ... Do I have the right to do this since I haven't read the books? I'd say after every screaming voice, that somehow all of a sudden became an expert in writing, a critic that felt obliged to shit over my favourite characters - this is incredibly satisfying. Again. I have no shame. For this at least.

Second lesson

Rand eyed her across the room, finally alone. The only other person in the spacious room was Moiraine. She was quiet, more than before, staring into the space, sipping from a small cup of tea. The young man swallowed. After everything that happened that day, Moiraine had said too little and he wasn’t exactly focused on her until now. His attention went to the storm of events, and to his friends, now gathered together in the same place. It was a long night, conversations, heated debates, accusations, revelations…

Not a few of the accusatory glances were aimed toward the Aes Sedai. For some of the little group, she was still an enigma and now they actually had something solid to blame her for. She had hidden the truth about Rand. No matter how much he had explained that it was his choice to leave them, that he was the one to ask Moiraine to make them believe he was dead, he doubted that they would soon believe him and stop being angry at her. But aside from the dirty looks thrown at Moiraine, most of them didn't dare to confront her.

Nynaeve… was a different story. Her anger was heard throughout the inn where they were all gathered. Even Lan couldn’t make her stop, although after a while he took her arm and dragged her outside in the corridor.

Moiraine remained silent. Perrin and Mat stared into each other, silently. The confusion and the distrust toward the Aes Sedai were palpable.

And Moiraine was just sitting there.

She looked pale and tired. On the light of the candles and fire from the hearth, her age seems even more elusive. A beautiful woman, but her delicate features were veiled with profound tiredness and sadness. Rand knew why. What he had seen and heard the previous day and last night was enough to have a much better understanding of what this woman was carrying. And yet, it was hard to imagine. Somewhere in his mind, the idea of Moiraine Sedai was changing. Reshaping. The fearsome image of the manipulative secretive woman shited toward something more familiar. More human. The icy facade had fallen.

For the first time since he met her over a year ago, behind the idea of an Aes Sedai, a woman has formed. A woman of flesh and blood, with heart and feelings. A human being, who was capable of hurting, of fear, of love.

Odd, he thought. He had seen her suffer before, he had seen her on the brink of death. He had watched this man hoover over her, her bodyguard, who warned him with a simple look, that whatever she thought he and his friends were, he won't hesitate to swing with a sword and slit their throats, if they dared even look at her the wrong way. He wondered back then what sort of debt or reason he had to walk after her like a loyal dog. What kind of a leash did she have on him so she held him so tight? Was he a servant, attached to her by orders from The White Tower? A lover maybe, who she had wrapped up in her nets years ago by an evil spell, that he fell victim somehow to her magic, and still hadn't realized that he sacrificed everything for someone who hardly ever even spoke to him. He had carried her unconscious body in his arms, tended her wound, and gave her water like a husband to a sick wife. And Rand still didn't quite understand.

He had seen her help and heal his father, then Mat. Maybe she really was on his side, he thought back then. And although some form of respect had formed in him, she was still an Aes Sedai. Never mind they all called her Moiraine, not even Moiraine Sedai. She had never insisted on that, never reminded them of her status. But he was way too wrapped up in himself and his own fears to notice. For him, she looked like some creature out of fairytales, or legends, not exactly real, dangerous, dark, and not at all trustworthy. Her powers intimidated him, and her plans and secrets made him suspicious. But last night he had stood in front of her to protect her from Lanfear's wrath. And there, for the first time, he saw her. Whatever happened between her and the Amyrlin seat, Rand was too busy to notice in the Palace. Their quarrel and the chilling prospect of their words were more than enough. His life and freedom were on the line. The fear that he had lost to the mighty Aes Sedai order had paralyzed him just as effectively as the shield Suan Sanche had put over him. Dark thoughts into a fog that blurred his senses kept him immobile, while he struggled to understand what was going on.

Then somehow he was free. Sheer luck, stars aligned, the whim of the Wheel, or it was a master plan from the woman in a blue dress, who was currently sitting there just a couple steps from him, but may as well be on the other side of the world.

Perin and Mat went to their rooms. They threw one last look at Moiraine, and still undecided how to treat her - if she was a threat or a friend, they left. Egwene needed healing, Elayne too. Moiraine took care of both of them. And they were resting now.

Yet the woman, who had spent at least the last several days with little to no sleep at all, trying to get him to Falme and had paid what seemed like quite the costs for her efforts, was still awake. Rand had learned what she had done for him. She was probably exhausted beyond words. He knew by now she wouldn't say anything. But she usually retrieved to her chambers. Now she was just standing there, in her chair, frozen, like a statue. 

“Moiraine, I…” he felt he had to say something. But he wasn’t exactly sure what.

Even if he had heard him, she didn’t show it.

“I wanted to… say that… I am sorry.” He struggled with his words. Ancient prophecies or not, Dragon or not, he felt like a child, who had stepped into the middle of a fight between adults. And now was scared that it might have been his fault. She didn’t look at him. “For what?” came a question. Her hoarse voice was quiet and distant. “For… what happened last night.” He wasn’t sure if he had the right to speak of… it. There, at the Waygate, he had finally seen the woman behind the Aes Sedai. Not Moiraine Sedai, Lady Damodred, not a random blue witch or a sister from the bloody White Tower of Tar Valon. Moiraine. 

Just Moiraine.

He had helped her last night. Her “thank you” filled with so much emotion, that humbled him. He didn’t have the time to think there since The Amyrlin had appeared. But now… Now, after the chaos had settled for the day, he had some time and quiet to think. And she was right there in front of him. Moiraine had been shielded. Not only that. Moiraine had been shielded for six months. He was shielded for a couple of hours and it felt like hell.

She had been carrying a shield for months.

What she had said to him in the Palace - it feels like you've lost everything that you ever were and everything you could possibly be. And with this nonchalant almost dismissive tone at that. As if it wasn't a big deal. Is that what it had been for her during all that time? She was running around, trying to get him away from Lanfear with just a knife, all alone. He briefly noticed that Lan wasn't with her. Since when she was alone? He had attacked her, thinking she had killed Selene! The stupidity... She has stood up to a Forsaken. Twice. For him.

No. Not for him. She believed it was for the whole world. She had dragged him around, and when he was about to drop from exhaustion and all he wanted was to sleep, she had said that this was not an option for her. How long has it been since that day? And all that time she had been powerless. Just a simple fragile woman. And Lanfear just threw them somewhere in the middle of nothing. The woman he trusted. He had trusted a Forsaken. Instead of the Aes Sedai who had saved the life of his friends.

Rand took a breath. Then he heard her:

“You removed the shield. For that I am thankful.”

He was about to protest, but she spoke again.

“Thank you for standing for me in front of Lanfear.”

He swallowed. That was sort of his fault too. Moiraine has agreed to his plan. But Lanfear… was slightly unpredictable. She had promised that the next time she saw him with Moiraine, she would kill her. It would have taken a flick of her wrist and… But that wasn’t what he meant either.

“I meant…” - his throat went dry. The fire cracked in the fireplace, and sparks flew around in the air. Muffled conversations from somewhere outside barely reached them. Otherwise, it was quiet. "The Amyrlin... She..."

“Don’t.”

The ice in her tone made him flinch. She had turned to him, he noticed it when he lifted his head to look at her direction. Then she added in an even more quiet voice, a whisper. "Please." She slowly shook her head and froze in place again. A distant memory from many months ago resurfaced - he had seen this face before. Back in the Blight, he had asked her if it was hard to leave Lan behind. She hadn’t spoken a word back then - her expression was oddly blank. She seemed far away, staring at the distance. Now she had the same look on her face. As if a wall was raised around her. Detaching her from the world. A safe place where she could hide her pain. But now he saw it. He had heard their conversation and the anguish in their voices. He had no idea that the terrifying Amyrlin seat meant something completely different for Moiraine. At first, he had thought they were close friends who grew up together like he had with Mat and Perin, had similar skills and experiences, shared the same view of the world, and were connected through The Tower. But... “If you ever loved me, don’t do this!”

It took him some time to understand the meaning behind the words.

“If you ever loved me”

Slowly her plea sunk in his brain. Words repeated in his head, voice cracking. The way she had said the name of the Amyrlin. The other woman did it anyway. The coldness in her voice like nothing he ever heard before snapped like a whip on a bare skin. Something big had happened there, he was able to understand this much. Something, that has shaken Moiraine to the core. The Amyrlin made her close the Waygate. She has accused Moiraine of lying and had spoken of an Oath... And somehow it was connected to him. The woman in front of him took a shaky breath. That was the only indication something was happening inside her. “Moiraine!” Lan's worried voice appeared from nowhere and stormed through the door. Nynaeve was right behind him. His whole attention focused on her. Nothing indicated trouble though. The pale woman just stood there, her back straight on her chair, and kept staring in front of her. Her eyes seemed fixed now in a certain spot but there was nothing in particular there.

Lan turned toward Rand and snarled. 

"What did you do?" 

"Nothing!", came the weak response.

Rand searched Nynaeve for help but she didn't look at him at all. Her attention was elsewhere. What he saw in her very much resembled guilt.

"What is wrong with her?"

"Stop talking, sheepherder!" 

Rand was on his feet worried and guilty. 

"Moiraine" , Lan's voice has changed. A sudden gentle tone appeared as if out of nowhere. 

He took a step towards her. When he got close, he touched her shoulder carefully. 

Moiraine exhaled. As if she had forgotten to breathe for a while there. She looked as if she was drowning just a second ago, and struggled to take a breath now. Her shoulders shook for a second.

"Moiraine! Look at me." It took her almost a minute, but she turned toward Lan. The glassy eyes barely registered that he was there. He was observing her, bowed before her as if trying to assess if she was somehow hurt. But her face showed nothing.

Lan leaned forward, he kneeled before her and their foreheads met. He closed his eyes, leading her to do the same. For a long moment, they stood like that. Not moving, not speaking. Only the muscles on Lan's face gave away a struggle, an effort, some underlying torture, that was left unseen by anyone else. Moiraine's face remained calm, almost serene. Then they both opened their eyes and looked at each other. 

Her mouth twisted slightly. Brows knitted, and her chin quivered. 

His hand went over her heart and remained there as if attempting to soothe an invisible wound.

"Oh, Moiraine!" 

A strangled sound came from her. 

Fear crept through Rand again. He didn't really understand what was happening before his eyes. What he saw was that the woman slowly was beginning to breathe more deeply and normally again. Her face though still taut, relaxed a bit, as she leaned into the man.

"Come on. Let's go get some rest." 

She nodded. 

He helped her stand up. But when she tried to take a step, her legs buckled, she swayed and stumbled. Lan grabbed her arm to steady her. One look at her and he nodded. With a swift move, as if he had done that many times before, he took her in his arms and lifted her. Her head fell on his shoulder immediately, she had closed her eyes and relaxed against him. The man carried her out with seemingly no effort at all. *** He stood behind the door for what seemed like ages, debating, arguing with himself. One part of him definitely screamed he had no right to go there, but the other was worried. Somehow he ended up worrying about an Aes Sedai. No. He corrected himself. Not an Aes Sedai. About Moiraine. Now his mind could see the difference. He knew that both were inseparable. But somehow they meant two very different things for him. There was no sound. Nobody has left the room for the night. It was almost dawn, but outside was still dark. Aside from the creaks here and there of wooden floors and beds, the whole building was quiet. Soft steps of the women who woke up early and started to roam around doing their daily chores could be heard. One of them approached, threw him a curious look, opened the door quietly, and entered the room. Rand hesitated for a couple moments but decided to use the opportunity. The woman left a tray with tea cups, water, and some food and left without a word.

Rand looked around in the semi-dark room. A few candles spread soft golden light but not enough to actually light up the room properly. His eyes finally landed on what he was looking for. There, on the thick mattress on the very floor, curled up under a blanket, the Aes Sedai was finally, finally asleep. Her face was now calm, she looked younger, even more beautiful than he remembered her. Behind her was her Warder, fully awake, his eyes fixed on the young man who just entered the room. His back against the wall, not moving a muscle, he was on his usual post - guarding his Aes Sedai dreams.

Rand finally understood him. The sudden urge to bow to this man startled him. A new respect for the Malkieri built within him. There was something else. Some other nagging feeling, unpleasant, underneath of it all. Shame. He was ashamed of his previous thoughts about this man.

"I just... wanted to see if everything is... I didn't want to..." Why all of a sudden his mouth refused to work.

"Learn to keep your mouth shut, sheepherder! That is your second lesson." Lan answered with a low voice. His face didn't change. There was no malice, nor anger. It was a simple statement.

"Is she… Is she going to be alright?"

 "She needs sleep."  He whispered. Rand nodded again. He turned around to leave the room. He heard Lan's quiet voice again behind him. "Sometimes it feels like she is carrying the world on her shoulders. Sometimes… this is actually true." 

[loki-cees-all]

Chapter 1 - And the Silence Splits Me Open {TLTGYA - Post!TVA Loki x OFC Longfic}

Prologue / TLTGYA Masterlist / A03 Link / Next Chapter

Pairing : Post-TVA!Loki x Oliviette (OFC)

Chapter Summary : Loki isn’t sure how long he’s been hiding, alone and forgotten, in this damp and squalid dungeon cell, but he’s fine with it. Really, he’s completely and 100% fine with this.

Chapter W/c : 3.1k

Chapter Tags / Content : Heavy Angst

Author's Note : Well - here goes nothing! Hopefully I can maintain a regular schedule of posting chapters on Sundays, but we'll see how it goes? Enjoy!

18+ Only - Minors DNI

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For nearly every living thing, choice breeds shame, and uncertainty, and regret.

Loki had stopped counting after a thousand days.

A thousand days of darkness, and of silence. Without hearing his own voice, or gazing upon the sunlight, or any type of sustenance. It was lonely to be sure, and some might consider it an unreasonable torture, but Loki didn’t. In fact, he preferred it this way.

Because it was also another kind of milestone - a thousand days without any mistakes. Without betraying or being betrayed, without killing or contributing to the evils in the universe. It was his longest streak ever, but Loki couldn’t give himself too much credit for that; it’s quite difficult to make new mistakes when you’re too busy lamenting on your old ones.

And he had a lot of mistakes to think about.

By now, Loki had memorized the patterns of cracks in the stone walls, winding and splitting their way around the room, much like the cracks in himself. The stone offered no comfort, and neither did the iron bars that made up the only door to the cell. And with no windows to speak of, and the only light coming from poorly lit lanterns in the dungeon hallway, he had become good friends with the darkness.

The walls were broken and imperfect, but still doing their duty. Still confining him, still keeping everyone safe from him. And he was doing his part too - suffering, with nothing but the cries of anguish from the other prisoners to keep him company.

Loki’s muscles, curving and molding unwillingly against the rough stone floor, cried out in agony as he lay on his side. His cell was bleak and unforgiving and exactly what he deserved. But was it really his if whomever was running this place didn’t know he was there?

The guards hadn’t abducted him, like they did the other prisoners, and there were plenty of shadows to hide in. And with no one crying out for help or mercy or salvation, there was no reason for anyone to look inside to see him.

Lately, the prisoner population had started to dwindle - the guards were killing without replacing for some reason. The screams were starting to fade, and with no new stock brought in to replace them, Loki was growing accustomed to the ambient sounds of the dungeon.

Water seeped through the fractures in the stone and condensed along the iron bars of the door. And every falling drop punctuated another memory of another failure as it landed on the hard, cold floor. Jotunnheim. Thanos. Tesseract.

As soon as Loki had stepped through the Time Door, he could smell the snow and ice outside, in spite of the rust and decay inside. For a while he was afraid he’d somehow arrived on Jotunnheim, before he had unleashed the full power of the Bifrost on his ancestral home. Before he discovered what he truly was. Before he ruined everything.

Thor. Frigga. The Dark Elves.

But once Loki finally saw the guards running the dungeon - each one a different species he couldn’t place - he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He wasn’t anywhere he’d ever heard of before, and it was likely that no one there had ever heard of him either. Thankfully the TemPad didn’t seem to possess the same kind of irony that everything else did.

He used to watch the guards from the shadows, as they dragged screaming and struggling prisoners to their cells and subsequently away again. Loki didn’t know who they were or what they wanted, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. There was nothing he could do to help; in fact, he’d probably just make it worse.

Asgard. Odin. Tesseract.

Occasionally he caught himself wondering if Heimdall, or anyone else back home, could see him now. He didn’t know where or when he was, and it was possible Asgard had already been destroyed during Ragnarok. It was just as possible that everyone he’d ever known simply didn’t exist yet. The TemPad he had stolen was surely dead by now, so there was no way for him to check the sequence he had typed in at random before coming here - and that had been the point.

TVA. He Who Remains. Tesseract.

It somehow always came back to the Tesseract, didn’t it? The most cursed object in the Nine Realms, but no better than a paperweight inside the Time Variance Authority. It had yanked him to and fro, from captor to abuser and back again, uncaring and inconsiderate as it helped them chip away at his own autonomy.

If only he had known the horrors the Tesseract would lead to. If only he’d been in a place where he felt strong and secure about himself before ever coming into contact with it, then a Space Stone wouldn’t have been necessary in the first place. But at least now he could take solace in the fact that he’d never have to see or hear about it ever again.

No one would ever know he was here. The stone and iron were keeping him safe from harm and absolved of choice, but even now, Loki considered his needs secondary to the bigger picture. The dungeon was the only way to stop him from causing more destruction and chaos and death. It was the only way to stop caring.

In fact, Loki cared so little that he was still wearing the TVA uniform. It was conspicuous, but as long as he stayed in the shadows, what would be the point of using magic to change his clothes? When the clothes could serve a larger purpose - a reminder of how much he’d failed.

A thousand days inside that button-up shirt, the frayed tie, the torn pants - each one stained with sweat and grime and blood. And who knew what condition his hair was in; it had definitely grown in his isolation, down past the grooves of his hollowed out collarbones. And then one day it just…stopped growing. A side-effect of the starvation, he supposed.

Another side-effect was the absence of his magic - he couldn’t feel it in his bones, or his heart, or his mind anymore. It had been a precious gift bestowed upon him by his mother, and now it was gone. But he wasn’t worthy of it anyway, and its departure just served as another impediment should he ever get the insane notion to attempt escape.

Logically, he knew there was no good reason to try running again; all that waited for him on the outside was more disappointment and failure. Everything he’d ever done, for better and for worse, had been the very definition of futile, and this was surely better than the alternative.

The one creature comfort Loki allowed himself was a cloak that must have belonged to a previous occupant of the cell, left behind somehow as they were dragged away to their doom. The cloak was as dark as night, and heavy enough to drown out the noises of tortured souls screaming in the distance. It smelled of decay, and the hems were torn and frayed, and it was exactly what he deserved.

He had pulled it over his head, and bunched it up between his neck and the stone into a makeshift pillow. Laying on his side, facing the rear wall of the cell, Loki had settled in for a long nap, and tried not to think about the kind of cruel end that must have come for its previous owner.

Loki hadn’t moved since then - curled up into himself, unable to differentiate between the nightmares and reality. Content to wither away in solitary confinement, where no one would ever know how he met his end.

He was used to being alone, but the isolation he experienced before had always been in spite of himself. He never meant to push people away, but it somehow became a habit, and then a necessity. The only difference between then and now was that he didn’t have to concern himself over what happened to anyone else anymore.

Except that obviously wasn’t true. There was still plenty to worry about, and Loki tried so hard to convince himself that he didn’t care anymore. Thanos, He Who Remains, the TVA - there were just too many dangers on the board, and they all led back to him.

In one way or another, Loki - or another version of him - was the only common element, the single being that every evil loved to curl its heinous claws around. He was the perfect instrument for malice - inherently broken, crushed at just the right pressure, burned at just the right temperature, and malleable enough to be used for nothing good.

So it was better for all if he stayed there, hidden in that dungeon on a mysterious planet, where not even he could fall prey to the illusion of choice anymore. Loki believed this arrangement was beneficial to everyone - there was nothing here for him to ruin, there were no wrong decisions to make, and nothing real was ever at stake.

There was no reason to charm, manipulate, or lie; no one to hurt, no one to lose, and no one to disappoint. And for the most part, Loki was finally at peace.

But occasionally, during the deepest and most frightening times of introspection, Loki would feel himself starting to yearn for something more. And unfortunately, the loneliest parts of his soul could never settle on a single need.

Sometimes it was companionship - the touch of anyone that had seen the worst parts of him, and still moved closer anyway. Other times, it was just a place to belong - where no one whispered behind his back, or criticized him right to his face.

And for the most part, he longed for the opportunity to just be. To just exist as himself.

But who was he? If he stripped himself down, if he somehow shed the veils of glorious purposes that were decided for him by his previous owners, then what was left of him?

Clinging to the notion of a throne was a lie. It was a facile explanation for his actions, because it was easier to hide under the guise of vanity rather than admit he didn’t know who he was. That he didn’t have anyone in his corner. That he couldn’t come to terms with being unable to figure himself out.

And if he couldn’t do that back on Asgard, as a Prince with everything going his way and cushioned with every advantage of being the son of the Throne, then all hope for him was lost. Which was exactly why he had let go of Odin’s spear in the first place - a decision that ultimately led to all of this.

It seemed like only yesterday he was hanging off the Bifrost with his older brother. Suspended over a wormhole caused by the Bifrost’s destruction, watching in quiet resignation as his father awoke from sleep to save his favorite heir from certain death, and shattering as Odin rejected Loki for the last time. At the time, falling into a wormhole was preferable than trying to come back from that.

So much had happened since then - none of it good, and all of it Loki’s fault. He didn’t swing the hammer, but he did set those events in motion while suffering the ill effects of wanting, needing, and longing. And even though no reasonable person could have expected anyone to shake off that same look of disappointment - so visceral and palpable - on their own father’s face, Loki still believed he was to blame for it all.

He often wondered, when he was too exhausted to push it back down, how Odin’s expression that night would compare to the one he’d have now. Loki was pathetic and broken, a complete and total failure, and drowning in loneliness on the floor of a cold and dirty dungeon cell.

This was certainly no place fit for a Prince, or a King; and yet even still, maybe Odin might be proud of him for finally making the right decision. Because while a Prince or a King may not belong there - the God of Mischief certainly did. It was a fitting end for him, because there was no way he was ever going to find anything good in that dungeon, and there was no way he was ever going to leave it either.

A familiar and long-forgotten sound drifted over Loki’s eardrums, rousing him from his self-loathing - laborious footsteps shuffling against the stone, metallic keys clinking together, and a surely unconscious body dragging across the floor.

It had been ages since he heard those noises. His eyelids drifted open and blinked once, twice, three times, as he waited for his pupils to dilate. And as the dungeon guards unlocked the door to his cell, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

Norns, no. Please, not another one…

Loki’s heart sank as the door swung open, creaking and groaning before crashing against the metal bars on the other side of itself. It echoed wildly throughout the chamber, and he remained frozen and unmoving as the guards dragged the stranger inside.

“Unwrap these chains. Quickly,” the higher-ranking guard ordered, his voice blunt and disdainful as he shuffled around the room. “When was the last time you rüzdæts cleaned out these cells?!”

Loki’s jaw set in place as he lay still, buried and hidden under the cloak in the shadows, even as the guard moved closer. What would he do if they discovered him now? Would he fight back, or would he just allow them to torture him too? Loki didn’t want to have to think about it.

“Are you sure we’re supposed to bring her in here?” The second guard’s voice was much more timid and unsure of himself, like it was his very first day working in a torture dungeon.

“For the last time, Orfeo - yes, this is where she’s supposed to be! Now hurry up!”

Loki could sense the guard’s trepidation even as he unshackled the newest prisoner. He’d never heard any of the guards questioning themselves before, and it was oddly unsettling.“I don’t know, this feels like…kánslha. We shouldn’t be doing this…”

The first guard, the one more sure of himself, continued snapping at the other. Telling him to just do as he was instructed, asking him if he still believed in their cause. Reminding him of what would happen should he suddenly have a change of heart.

Loki had never asked for much - just to be left alone. But it had never been given to him freely; he had to take it instead, and apparently he wasn’t allowed to even hold on to it for very long. He could feel the adrenaline start to rise in his body - his hands clenching, his muscles starting to come back to life.

There was no telling why she was supposed to be in that specific cell, or what their “cause” actually was. Loki had never paid any attention to them before; but now his curiosity was piqued, and he absolutely hated it.

Silence was worth fighting for, wasn’t it? Even if fighting meant revealing his very presence? But once he did that, once he crossed that line, he wouldn’t be able to stop until every single one of them was dead…

No. Stop. This is still suffering. Let it go…

As Loki attempted to calm himself back down, the guards finally took their leave, bickering and arguing as they relocked the door and their footsteps faded away. Silence descended upon him again, and Loki held his breath as he tried to listen for any signs of life coming from his new cell mate.

Her own breath was light, faint, fleeting. Loki almost felt sorry for her, much to his own chagrin. He didn’t want to care, because caring led to compassion, and empathy, and trust, and every other good feeling that inevitably led to more pain.

And maybe she deserved to be there, or maybe she didn’t. Loki couldn’t let that be his problem; not when he had enough of his own.

Even so, Loki was curious to see her - the one somehow important enough to make a guard question himself. To make Loki question himself - to make him consider disclosing his presence, even if it was just to kill every guard in that place in the name of silence.

Slowly and quietly, Loki tried to push himself upright. But his muscles, stiff and hardened from such little use, refused to cooperate. It was a struggle to move without grunting, and thus revealing, that someone else was still alive in that cell.

Finally, he managed to roll himself onto his back, landing against the floor with a groan. Loki had forgotten about the harness still strapped to his back, and his muscles screamed as they stretched around the stiff leather underneath him. He froze, biting his tongue as he waited to see if there would be a reaction from her. And when none came, he slowly turned his head to look.

A woman laid unconscious across from him on the floor. Twisted on her side, her face dirty and blood, her long and crimson hair woven into a tangled braid. Like Loki, she wore a dark cloak, and like Loki, she looked broken.

And despite the dried blood and the bruises starting to form on her skin already, she was beautiful. Even Loki couldn’t deny that. But was that enough to explain why the guards were behaving so strangely about her? No, there had to be more to it than that.

She resembled the mortals on Midgard, more so than the guards did, but that didn’t necessarily mean that she was human, or that Loki had been on Midgard all along. It didn’t mean anything; it just created more questions. The intricacies of traveling through both time and space were already complicated enough, and then adding in the context of his destination being a mystery even to himself…

Just as he realized how far his mind had wandered, her fingers twitched, and his eyes snapped back into focus. The woman was starting to wake up, and he was staring right at her - exposed, and vulnerable, and wondering.

She let out a soft groan, and Loki quickly turned back onto his side, facing the rear wall again as he silently cursed to himself. None of his questions would matter in the end; even if she woke up, she was already dead.

Loki swore he wasn’t going to get involved with anyone else ever again. He was already committed to doing nothing, especially for strangers.

And he had spent the last thousand days doing nothing. How hard could another three or four be?

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Prologue / TLTGYA Masterlist / A03 Link / Next Chapter

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[neverenoughmarauders]

A lot of people hold James happy upbringing as an argument for why he should have been kind to Snape; and Snape’s upbringing as justification for why he joined Voldemort and bullied children.

Personally I find this hypocritical… James is as much a product of his upbringing and while it’s a much happier one, it doesn’t come without its downsides. James doesn’t have the resources to understand someone like Snape. He’s not resourceful in that respect.

We learn that James’ parents were old, rich and desperate for children. When they got James they spoiled him and set few (if any) limits. This makes him a spoiled brat, but one with great capacity for love. Exactly the sort of person to grow into a person we see capable of bullying a student who is immersed in the dark arts or for worse reasons: just because he can; at the same time as he can show compassion for someone with a stigmatised condition. James is a blend of the love he was brought up with and the lack of consequences he faced.

This is a time when the UK wizarding world is at the brink of war, and Snape does early show every sign of joining the wrong side (he doesn’t like muggles, he wants to be in the evil house - and yes in canon there is an evil house). Someone like James, spoiled, seeming himself invincible and right in everything he does, would find Snape someone he ought to hex.

James upbringing makes his bullying understandable. It does not make it right or justifiable. I won’t apologise for it. I do understand it.

Similarly, it’s easy to understand how Snape, who grows up in an abusive household with Tobias Snape and dreams of escaping, ends up making the wrong choices. I can’t remember if we know his mother was in Slytherin, but it’s at least the most likely thing.

Snape must have grown up thinking of Slytherin - the place his mother had been - as the place he’d find home. The fact that Slytherins disliked muggles won’t have bothered him all that much - Tobias made sure of that. To protect himself, Snape doesn’t develop empathy the way others do. And I will die on that hill - because it’s the kindest explanation I can find for grown post-1981 (teacher) Snape’s behaviour. It makes it easy for him to fall in with the wrong crowd. Because Snape isn’t alone at Hogwarts. He has friends - or people he hangs around with - other than Lily. It’s just these people have some pretty terrible ideas. Ideas that Snape are also partial to - or at least, he falls in with.

It doesn’t help that this boy with limited empathy sees what we know to be the good side (those that didn’t do ‘evil’ stuff, as Lily put it) to be fronted by loud bullying gits like James Potter and Sirius Black.

Snape invents pretty dark spells, including the oh so ‘James is far more evil than a death eater because he dangled Snape upside down so everyone could see his underpants’ spell. Yes that’s Snape’s invention. Had he never used it, James could never have learned it. They both used it. They were both bad in their own ways. And of course he invented Sectumsempra - a dark curse that prevents Molly from being able to heal Fred. Yes then it wasn’t used on purpose but it was invented by Snape, to be used on enemies. And he used it because Remus remarks it’s a speciality of Snape’s. But here’s the thing - Snape has gone around feeling so powerless for so long - I understand why he invents these and use them.

Snape’s upbringing makes his actions understandable. It does not make it right or justifiable. I won’t apologise for it. I do understand it.

Understanding someone’s actions doesn’t mean I endorse them. That goes for both Snape and James.