#I can should must and WILL stan every terrible thing she has ever done

[quantumfizz]

Wendy Byrde my beloved

[kaunis-sielu]

Fire Dogs: 4

It turns out that you didn’t break anything just deeply bruised. Steve brings you home and you feel terrible that he’s wasted his whole night on you and your drama.

“Do you wanna stop and pick up something to eat?”

“No, I’ve got dinner planned. As long as you’re okay waiting for dinner.”

“You’re supposed to take it easy.” He reminds you gently.

“Yea, it’s just Spaghetti. Easy.”

“Come on Fawn, you heard Dr. May, you have to take it easy.”

“I’m right handed, I’ll be fine to put some noodles into hot water and heat some sauce.” You argue and he sighs heavily as he slows to a stop at a stoplight.

“Can you just humor me for one night?” He asks giving you some serious puppy dog eyes. You feel that little prickle of an Alpha command but he doesn’t, like he’d promised.

“Fine. But you don’t get to pay.”

“Woah woah. Now that’s not the deal.”

“That’s the deal.” You argue and Steve glances over at you with an affectionate glare.

“Fine. Has anyone ever told you you’re bossy for an Omega?” He sighs heavily before asking, “What do you want?”

You end up picking up burgers at a little takeout place called Stan’s and eating them at home. Dinner with Steve is fun. He’s smart and charming and you enjoy spending time with him. When you’re done with dinner you grab your Stark Pad and head up to your room. You hear Steve in the shower and you manage to struggle out of your shirt and into your pajamas. You’re supposed to take some painkillers but you’ve got to be up for Sam in a few hours so you don’t.

You’re in way more pain when you wake up at 3:30. You wrap your robe around yourself and open your door. Much to your surprise both Steve and Sam are waiting outside your door.

“You owe me twenty bucks.” Steve says uncrossing one of his arms and holding an open hand out to Sam who pulls his wallet out and slams a twenty into Steve’s hand.

“Um, what?” You ask blinking at the two.

“I bet Sam that you’d be up to make him breakfast and something for Bucky before he goes to bed. Which also means that you didn’t take any pain meds.”

“I’m fine Steve.” You tell him trying to skirt past him.

“Uh, uh, uh Honey.” He pauses you with an arm in front of you, “I know you asked me not to but I wanna know why you need to do this? I just want what’s best for you.” You know he’s talking about not Alpha commanding you, part of it is a simple answer, the other part, not so much.

“Steve, I can’t just not do anything. Okay? I can’t.” You attempt to reason with him, “You guys are out there laying down your lives to help protect my home. I need to do something!” He studies you silently for a moment, just long enough where you’re almost uncomfortable.

“Okay Omega, but the second it’s too much take a break okay? And maybe take half of one of the pills Dr. May gave you. Just to help with the swelling.” He called you Omega again, not that you can lie about it now that Grant had called you an Omega bitch right in front of him. When Steve calls you Omega it’s, nice.

“Will you cut them in half for me before you go? I don’t have much range of motion in my left arm yet.” You ask softly, you have this weird feeling he might like to help take care of you as much as you like helping care for him, Sam and Bucky.

“Yea, I’ll cut one now and do the rest before I head out. If you’re too tired to get up with me please don’t okay?” You nod then follow him down the stairs.

Sam’s breakfast, and Bucky’s dinner, is a little more difficult with your aching body but if Steve notices any of your wincing he thankfully doesn’t say anything. You take the half pill that he offers then with Cooper on your heels trudge back upstairs. It takes you longer to get comfortable this time, you’re still awake when Steve and Bucky come to bed. You hear them talking quietly, you can’t really make out what they’re saying but Steve sounds annoyed. You can feel his irritation through the door and you’re worried you’ve done something. Hopefully you didn’t get him into any trouble with the other firefighters for leaving early.

You end up falling into a half sleep as the sun rises in the sky. You still hear everything going on around you but you can’t react, it’s a terrible way to sleep. You’re pretty sure you hear Steve open the door to check on you at some point, his scent invading the room when he cracks the door open. You relax further and finally fall into a restful sleep.

You wake up around one, Cooper is still laying at your feet when you stretch but he hops down and makes his way to the door with a wagging tail. You groan softly as you sit up, then make your way slowly to the door. You let Cooper out then struggle into your robe your arm aching. You make your way down to the kitchen to feed Cooper and find your bottle of pills full of halves. It makes you smile to see that Steve had taken the time to cut them, you take two of the halves, you’re not going anywhere today so you don’t need to be especially awake.

You do some drawing for your new book, it’s almost done and you couldn’t be more excited. Your deadline is in three days and with only two pages left to draw you’re feeling pretty good about everything. You’ve even decided what your next book is gonna be about, the therapy dogs that are coming in for the firefighters. You won’t use Cooper or any of the other dogs real names but you’re going to share the story.

You must fall asleep on the couch, when you wake Sam is in the kitchen humming away as he cooks. A warm ice pack falls off of your shoulder as you sit up, you grab it then move slowly to your feet. When you wander into the kitchen Sam gives you a broad smile,

“Mornin’ sleeping beauty. How do you feel?”

“Sore. Do you want me to take over?”

“Nah, Fawn. Buck said you didn’t even move when he let Cooper out and left. He did make sure you were breathing and put the ice on your shoulder. He said he wants to check it if you’re okay with that tomorrow before he leaves.”

“It’s just a deep bruise.”

“Yes but our Alpha told us to take care of you so we will.”

“Your Alpha? But you’re all Alphas?”

“Steve is a True Alpha.” Sam explains, “I thought he’d told you.”

“No, so he’s like, the leader of your pack?”

“Exactly.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

“He’s the boss.” Sam says with a shrug, “you like gumbo?”

“Can he Alpha command anyone?”

“Yea, but he wouldn’t. Not without good reason.” You’re almost positive that Steve must’ve Alpha commanded Grant.

“But he can.”

“Yes, why?”

“I think he did.”

“Who?”

“I mean, other than me. I think he Alpha commanded one of the doctors at the ER.” When Sam glances at you over his shoulder you look down at the warm ice pack you’re still holding. “Grant Ward, he’s my ex. He wanted to mate me but I just couldn’t, and he’s been making my life hard ever since.”

“You’re not a Beta are you.” Sam says softly and you look up at him in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

“Steve has been off, like he’s protecting an Omega but Bucky and I couldn’t figure it out because you smell like a Beta.”

“Please don’t say anything. If the town finds out I’m going to have every stupid Alpha at my door.”

“Not with Steve here you won’t.”

“You’re not going to be here forever. When you leave they’ll be all over me.” You tell him hurrying to his side, “Please don’t say anything!”

“I won’t, none of us will.” He promises and you give his arm an appreciative squeeze.

“Thanks Sam. And I do like Gumbo, thank you for cooking.”

“Of course Fawn. If you wanna keep working on your book I can let you know when the food is done.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yup.” So you do as he says and get back to work on your book. You’re on the last page when you hear him call for you.

“Thank you again for cooking. It smells amazing.”

“If I let Carol cook we’d both die.”

“She’s not much of a cook?”

“No, not at all.” He admits with a laugh, “I love the woman but she can’t cook.”

“Is it hard being in an Alpha-Alpha pair?”

“I don’t think so, but it’s definitely a choice we make to make it work.”

“Sorry, that was a very personal question.”

“I don’t mind, I’d imagine things are pretty traditional here.” You nod, “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure.”

“Why aren’t you mated?”

“I’ve dated but after the shit with Grant I think I’m just scared. All the Alphas around here want an Omega and they think I’m a Beta so they don’t really look my way.”

“Are you just waiting for an Alpha?”

“No, if I met the right Beta that would be fine too.”

“Which of us smells best?”

“Nope,” you tell him with a laugh, “I’m not going there.”

“I had to try.” He tells you with a grin of his own.

“All I’ll say is that none of you smell bad. All comforting.”

“Good.” Sam says with a nod and you finish the meal in comfortable conversation. You shoo him out of the kitchen when you’re both done. Insisting that he go to bed so he’s rested for his morning shift. You take another half of a pain pill then start doing the dishes. You finish your last drawing then send everything to your publisher so they can check it over. By the time that’s done it’s nearly ten and Steve should be home soon.

You get off the couch and follow Cooper to the back door. When you open it Coop doesn’t move, just stares out into the darkness.

“In or out Coop.” You tell him and he ambles out into the yard. You close the door and head back to the kitchen to grab a bowl of Gumbo to start heating for Steve. You go back to the back door and when you open it you find Cooper isn’t alone in the backyard.

“Hi Omega.”

“What.” You gasp as Brock moves closer to your house. “Cooper!”

“I think he got out.”

“What? Cooper!” You call shutting the door in Brock’s face you lock it and hurry into the living room. The front door opens and Steve comes in, Cooper trailing behind him. “Oh, oh thank god. Oh Steve thank you.”

“He was hanging out in the front. How did he get out?”

“I don’t know.” Steve tenses, “Brock is out back. He apparently knows I’m an Omega.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He goes to go past you and upstairs when you catch his wrist with your right hand.

“No! Please make him go away. I don’t know how he found out I was an Omega but he did. I don’t want him here Steve.”

“You want him gone?”

“Please Alpha.” You whisper and Steve nods before going to the back of the house.

Tag list:

@memyselfandmaddox @thefanficfaerie @patzammit @dsakita @dramadreamer14 @killcomet @thesassmisstress @andahugaroundtheneck @loving-life-my-way @thefridgeismybestie @dumblani @im-just-another-monster @mywinterwolf @giggleberts @biskwitmamaw @geeksareunique @paintballkid711 @lumar014 @also-fangirlinsweden @connie326 @inkedaztec @eralen @valsworldofcreativity @strangersstranger @blackwidownat2814

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 314: ...Or You Live Long Enough to See Yourself Become the Villain

Previously on BnHA: Some random assholes were all “let’s throw exploding spears at All Might and see if it activates his Conqueror’s Haki” and SURPRISE, MOTHERFUCKERS, IT DID!! Elsewhere, Lady Nagant confusingly tried to capture Deku alive by shooting him in the stomach, but to be fair I guess that’s what happens when you send an assassin to do a bounty hunter’s job, so yeah. Deku was all “ouch”, and then because this is a shounen he basically just straight up forgot about it, and did a big fancy Smokescreen thing, and then activated his mildly incomprehensible new ki-blasting quirk which he got from the Third. En and the Third were all “hey Deku maybe let’s not just impulsively activate all this shit in the heat of battle when you don’t know how to use it yet and you’re already injured,” and Deku was all “thanks for the quirks guys but I’ll take it from here” and snuck up on Nagant and grabbed her arm and so now what’s going to happen I wonder.

Today on BnHA: Nagant is all “[shoots Deku again]” because of course she is lol. Deku is all “tell me about AFO!” and Nagant is all “why would I tell you anything?” and then proceeds to tell him her entire life story which is FILLED WITH SO MUCH MURDER, YOU GUYS. Holy shit. So basically she was an assassin for the HPSC, which we already knew, but somehow it’s one thing to know that, and another to actually see her running around capping dudes in the forehead and being covered in more blood than the elevator from The Shining. Anyway, so you’ll never believe it, but all that murder had a negative impact on her psychologically, and eventually led her to question everything she believed about hero society, and so she killed her creepy boss and was promptly sent to Tartarus. This extremely fun chapter ends with Overhaul showing up all “HI, HELLO, I’M STILL HERE”, because for some reason he is still here. Why are you still here, Overhaul.

“the beautiful Lady Nagant” oh you know your audience don’t you Horikoshi

well all right then! so I’m guessing this means that she is not, in fact, going to roll over and die just because Deku’s out here all “GOT YA!” like they’re playing a game or tag or something. ffff may the manga gods have mercy on our young suicidal protagonist

lmao so Deku is all “GOD I’M SO SMART, WHAT A GOOD STRATEGY I HAD, CAPITOL JOB THERE OL’ CHAP, CAPITOL” and lol, okay. I mean, it was a good plan though. but I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop here

“I’ll make you give me information on All for One” well there you go, lol. Deku Angst arc still fully engaged. still no light in his eyes either of course. just a lil chaotic ball of sleep deprivation and rage

lol, fucking THANK YOU though

oh my god what the hell did she do to him lol

did she shoot him with her elbow??? fucking look at this?? THIS IS WHY WE LISTEN TO HAWKS oh my god Deku are you dead

WHAT’S HAPPENING, IS THIS GOOD OR BAD, WHO’S WINNING

things that I wish I could tell from this panel which I unfortunately cannot tell

did she stab him or shoot him?? can you imagine if it was the former lol. why does Horikoshi keep stabbing all my kids. look Kacchan now the two of you can match

did she actually hit him or did he get away??

or did she hit him and then he jumped away?? just, what

well anyway, so now Deku is asking her why she sided with AFO, but he seems a lot more pissed off than when he was interrogating Muscular, though. probably because she shot him three times. fair enough

oh my god

does Lady have a blog here on tumblr dot com?? -- does Horikoshi have a blog here on tumblr motherfucking dot com?? why do I suddenly feel like this man is out here sneakily reading up on all our discourse

oh my god Deku it’s almost like getting up close and personal with someone who can shoot custom bullets from any distance and any position with deadly accuracy was a terrible fucking idea

IF ONLY SOMEONE HAD WARNED YOU NOT TO ENGAGE WITH HER AT ALL COSTS. IF ONLY SOMEONE HAD HAD THE FORESIGHT TO DO THAT sob. can you imagine how much shorter this series would be if characters actually listened to Hawks. Hawks, and Momo. why do we even let anyone else run the show ever

OH MY GOD

DEKU, RUN

OH MY GOD WHAT IS HAPPENING

this looks a lot like what happens to me whenever I play One’s Justice. those fucking combo attacks that you can’t fucking escape from and so your character just has to stand there getting their ass whalloped repeatedly while you wonder why you paid $40 for this

but anyways though. so Lady who did you kill?? I bet they deserved it, don’t worry I forgive you

(ETA: ANYWAY SO FRIENDLY REMINDER THAT LADY NAGANT DID NOTHING WRONG EVER IN HER ENTIRE LIFE. aside from murdering all those innocent people and shit. but there were CIRCUMSTANCES, and THEY WERE EXTENUATING, OKAY.)

-- holy shit

looks like the HPSC arc is back on the menu boys

so are we about to learn that the HPSC was going full Hydra on people’s asses? secretly dispatching anyone they deemed a threat to society?? “taken care of” as in you fucking shot them??

so then was the “hero” she killed actually one of the guys who was giving or carrying out these orders?? holy shit Lady, up until now I’ve mainly just been stanning you for your flawless eyebrow game and metal af quirk, but this shit could actually get real very quickly, and I am prepared to genuinely and sincerely love the shit out of you depending on what we learn next about your backstory

oh my god?!?

so wait, hold up. am I reading this right?? basically the HPSC started murdering vigilantes because they were worried they were gaining too much of the public’s favor?? holy fucking shit???

oh my GOD oh my god

“it’s been a while since I scarred you all with the dead dog and the graphic slaughter of an entire innocent family, huh,” Horikoshi says thoughtfully. “anyway so what do you all think of my new creation, the Spaghetti Bullet.” well, Horikoshi, so you know that squished-up face that Kermit the Frog makes sometimes? yeah. that’s what I think, if you must know lol

holy hell the juxtaposition

I’m actually kind of surprised to learn she had a lot of fans? what with her M.O., I was expecting her to have been an underground hero like Aizawa, but apparently not? then again I still have absolutely no idea how any of that works. I really need to read Vigilantes already

oh snap

nothing like a sweet dose of assassin trauma to finally round out our BnHA Trauma Bingo!! well done guys, we finally collected all of the traumas! hooray!

noooo Ladyyyyyyy

holy shit what a fucking chapter. like, this man promised us an assassin, and went and fucking delivered. I was not expecting it to be this dark, lol, but holy shit I am here for it

you know, at some point you have to start questioning the logistics of this, though

I mean, how do I put this... her quirk isn’t exactly subtle. that murder scene from a few pages back looked like the first season of Dexter for fuck’s sake, that’s not exactly “disappearing” people now is it?? and I mean, her bullets are literally made from her own fucking hair; it seems like it would be impossible not to leave any evidence behind. did no one start to wonder who the fuck was going around murdering all these people? or did the people who asked too many questions wind up getting conveniently “disappeared” themselves??

and hey, speaking of asking too many questions

holy shit is he blackmailing her??!? or no, wait -- what the hell is he reaching for in his pocket boy you better not

(ETA: what exactly was this man expecting fdslkjd. “uh oh my unstoppable hair trigger assassin who is literally always armed is asking questions, better announce that I am going to shoot her and then reach into my pocket veeeeeery slowly while she stands there all of two feet away.” how did this guy ever function as the head of a shadow government with these decision-making skills, I’m genuinely baffled.)

OH MY GOD LADY YES

this. right here. is why “run the fuck away” was damn good solid fucking advice. oh shit. but my god did this dude have it coming

so wait lol has she just been narrating all of this out loud to Deku this entire time

okay but can we just stop for a moment and appreciate the fact that they’re having this deep conversation about the dark secrets of hero society right in the middle of their intense mid-air sniper free-for-all lol

holy shit you guys, Nagant’s the one that should have made the tell-all video. I mean, no offense to you, Dabi, I’m sure you worked very hard on your video and did a ton of crunches every day so that you would look good with your shirt off while you told the world all about how your dad was a jerk. but seriously...

this is already like 100x more convincing than what he put out. also, gasp, is it another flashback

yes it is oh my gosh

so the HPSC Chairladyperson whom ReDestro killed used to be this guy’s direct subordinate, huh? I wonder if she kept the whole assassin program going after she took over. can’t say I was feeling any particular kind of grieving way about her death before, but certainly not now lol

but unfortunately Nagant has finally lost me at the same place where all of the villains inevitably do, which is to say when they somehow make the dubious mental leap from “society sucks and is bad” to “let’s just be openly fucking evil lol, worth a shot.” because when heroes murder innocent people and cover it up, that’s obviously bad (and I mean, it absolutely fucking is lol, don’t get me wrong); but when villains murder innocent people straight up out in the open without giving a fuck, they’re righteous revolutionaries? just -- is there really no non-murdery middle ground here?? I guess that’s what Deku and co. are for, hopefully

anyways oh shit Deku seems to have spotted something?? and he’s doing something weird with Blackwhip what

oh, he spotted her, I guess

lmaooooo

new favorite Deku panel right here. a masterpiece

oh my god you guys our little boy is starting to grow up before our eyes

you love to see it. and you can tell with those elipses that he’s gearing up to say something really cool and determined and badass like the shounen protag he is, yes please, Deku ilu so much please do your thing

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

IS THAT A TEENY TINY LIL EYE SPARKLE THERE OMG. still not anywhere close to his usual standard, but that’s some clear resolve there in his eyes there at long last! it always shines the most clearly when he’s being true to himself and his ideals, so I love that it finally shows up again here, when he’s reaffirming his resolve to help others no matter what

uh oh so what’s Lady going to do now

is it time for a trump card?? kinda sounding like it’s time for a trump card

???

I lied btw, this is my new favorite Deku panel. but anyways what is she up to now lol

ohhhhhh, lol

why does she seem shocked, lol. here I thought this was part of her plan, but apparently she forgot all about ol’ “Look Ma, No Hands” back up there

and so I guess that’s it for this week! so we’ve learned basically everything now about Lady and her quirk and her history with the HPSC and why she agreed to work for AFO. pretty much the only question that still remains is why the hell she decided to drag this asshole along for the ride! because I still cannot figure that out dsklkjlkf

(ETA: actually now I’m kind of wondering if they maybe have some past connection we don’t know about yet. when exactly was Nagant sent to Tartarus? is it possible she was ordered to track down and kill Overhaul at some point before that, but never got around to it? or something else along those lines? idk but now I’m curious.)

anyways Deku, I know that your empathy has no bounds and that you’re on a “saving villains” kick right now, and good on you... but also, if you decide to just like, skip all of that shit just this once, absolutely no one will hold it against you, I’m just saying. just, all I’m asking here is maybe let’s think twice before we start trying to reform guys who imprison and torture little girls for profit. I think maybe that’s a good place to draw the line. next week is going to be a very interesting chapter lol

[jackoshadows]

what i don’t understand is sansa stans who insist that she learnt from the best (cersei ans littlefinger) and so she’ll be an amazing ruler and player. first of all, when did she learn about the game from cersei? she was a hostage in kings landing, she wasn’t sitting in on small council meetings or anything and cersei definitely wasn’t telling her about all the moves she was making. the only time cersei really gives her ‘advice’ is during blackwater when she says that ‘tears/sex is a woman’s weapon’. regardless, cersei isn’t someone you want to be taught from, she makes terrible decision after terrible decision in affc. (since we’re on this topic, dany is the younger and more beautiful queen who foils cersei).

as for littlefinger, he’s definitely not a leader or ruler. he subtly manipulates things here and there and gets away with a lot of it because he stays under the radar. he’s not someone who inspires devotion for sure. nothing about the vale arc in affc puts sansa in an actual leadership position.

I agree it's best that no one learns how to be a ruler from Cersei Lannister, considering how much she messes up in AFfC.

And yes, it’s my opinion that Sansa's arc is leading towards outwitting Littlefinger and understanding how to play the game rather than ruling. And with two books left to go, she still has a lot of learning to do and being able to process the information available to her, analyze it and connect the dots and use the data to her advantage.

I just finished my ADwD and TWoW sample chapter re-reads so a rather long essay under the cut.

Sansa did acknowledge early on that unlike Cersei, if she were to become queen, she would prioritize getting the people's love over their fear - like the Tyrells did. But unlike the majority opinion of fandom, I think that this points to Sansa giving more importance to PR than to actual ruling. That it was better to be a loved monarch than a feared one.

It’s funny that Sansa stans often point the finger at Dany as being narcissistic, entitled and arrogant, when the few comments that Sansa makes about being queen revolve around her.

“Go ahead, call me all the names you want,” Sansa said airily. “You won’t dare when I’m married to Joffrey. You’ll have to bow to me and call me Your Grace. ” - Sansa, AGoT

“ If I am ever a queen, I'll make them love me.”  - Sansa, ACoK

Compare her quotes to those of current leaders/rulers in the books:

A good lord protects his people, he reminded himself. - Bran, ACoK

“Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can’t protect themselves?“ - Daenerys, ASoS

“And I know that a king protects his people, or he is no king at all.” Davos, ASoS

I was trying to win the throne to save the kingdom, when I should have been trying to save the kingdom to win the throne."  - Stannis, ASoS

“I am the shield that guards the realms of men. Those are the words. So tell me, my lord— what are these wildlings, if not men?”  - Jon Snow, ADwD

The other leaders in the quotes are putting the people first, prioritizing the people’s needs first no matter how much it affects the rulers themselves. Jon’s decision to let the Wildlings through the wall is necessary, but highly unpopular among his men. And ruling is more than just being beloved by the people -

"Allow me to give my lord one last piece of counsel,” the old man had said, “the same council that I one gave my brother when we parted for the last time. He was three-and-thirty when the Great Council chose him to mount the Iron Throne. A man grown with sons of his own, yet in some ways still a boy. Egg had an innocence to him, a sweetness we all loved. Kill the boy within you, I told him the day I took the ship for the Wall. It takes a man to rule. An Aegon, not an Egg. Kill boy and let the man be born.” The old man felt Jon’s face. “You are half the age that Egg was, and your own burden is a crueler one, I fear. You will have little joy of your command, but I think you have the strength in you to do the things that must be done. Kill the boy, Jon Snow. Winter is almost upon us. Kill the boy and let the man be born.” - Jon Snow, ADwD

This is the hard part of ruling be it in the middle ages or now. It’s not enough to be a good man to be an effective ruler. It’s complicated and it’s hard.  How do I resolve this thing? Do I do the moral thing? But what about  the political consequences of the moral thing? Do I do the pragmatic, cynical thing and kind of screw the people who are screwed by it? I mean, it is HARD. - GRRM

In this context, Sansa’s quote about being queen comes off as naive, ignorant, fairy taleish, like the queens in her stories - where everyone loves the queens and that’s all that’s necessary to be one.

It’s easy for Sansa stans to nitpick and criticize each and every one of Dany’s decisions and then praise future best queen Sansa - who has done absolutely nothing as a leader and has instead thus far served as an uncritical narrator to events around her. We don’t know what kind of leader Sansa would be because she has never been put in those situations or even shown an aptitude for strategic thinking.

Let me use an example I came across while recently re-reading ADwD and TWoW sample chapters. TWoW spoilers - if you don’t want to be spoiled on TWoW, please read no further.

-------------------------------------------------------

In ADwD, Jon is confronted with food shortage if they let the Wildlings through the wall:

“If we had sufficient coin, we could buy food from the south and bring it in by ship,” the Lord Steward said. We could, thought Jon, if we had the gold, and someone willing to sell us food. Both of those were lacking. Our best hope may be the Eyrie. The Vale of Arryn was famously fertile and had gone untouched during the fighting. - Jon Snow, ADwD

I have already written extensively on Jon’s political know-how of the North and using it in his strategizing and planning of Stannis’ campaign. But here we see that his knowledge extends to the south, where, knowing that the Vale stayed neutral during the WOT5K and it’s geography of being fertile, he sees it as a possible source to buy food for the Wall.

Now let’s go to the Vale in book 6, TWoW, Alayne’s sample chapter. After being called a bastard by Harry the Heir, a hurt Sansa goes looking for Littlefinger and chances upon a scheme of price gouging:

Near the bottom, she heard Lord  Grafton’s booming voice, and followed.

“The  merchants are clamoring to buy and the lords are clamoring to sell,”  the Gulltowner was saying when she found them. Though not a tall man, Grafton was wide, with thick arms and shoulders.  His hair was a dirty blond mop.  “How am I to stop that, my lord?”

“Post guardsmen on the docks. If need be, seize the ships. How does not matter, so long as no food leaves the Vale”

“These prices, though,” protested fat Lord Belmore,” 

“These prices are more than fair. Wait. If need be, buy the food yourself and keep it stored. Winter is coming. Prices must go higher.”

“Perhaps,”  said Belmore, doubtfully. “Bronze Yohn will not wait, ” Grafton complained. “He need not ship through Gulltown, he has his own ports. Whilst we are hoarding our harvest, Royce and the other Lords Declarant will turn theirs into silver, you may be sure of that.”

“Let  us hope so,”  said Petyr. “When their granaries are empty, they will  need every scrap of that silver to buy sustenance from us. And now if  you will excuse me, my lord, it would seem my daughter has need of me.”

“Lady Alayne,” Lord Grafton said. “You look bright-eyed this morning.” ” You  are kind to say so, my lord. Father, I am sorry to disturb you, but I  thought you would want to know that the Waynwoods have arrived.”

We are now in book 6 territory, this would be the point where a future queen/leader Sansa reflects on what she just saw - Littlefinger is hoarding grain and letting Royce and others sell theirs so that he can later increase the prices for demand from a starving populace and have the rest of the Vale Lords be dependent on him and with winter coming, there is currently much demand for the grain.

This would be where, if GRRM is writing for the future leader of the North, Sansa would wonder what is happening in the North with respect to the food situation since she just heard that merchants are clamoring for grain and winter is coming. Or she would think on LF’s scheme - is it a good plan or a bad plan? Does she think that Yohn Royce is right to sell his grain? What is her view on hoarding all the food for price gouging while people possibly starve elsewhere? What does she think of starving the populace for profit? Does she approve? Or does she think it’s ethically wrong?

We get no answers to these questions to give us a hint of what kind of ruler future best queen Sansa will be. It’s a blank slate because while Sansa acts as a narrator here and describes one of LF’s little schemes, she herself as no opinion on it. Instead Sansa’s immediate concern when speaking to Littlefinger is that Harry the Heir called her a bastard in front of everyone. Meanwhile Dany in ADwD:

Skahaz had been named Warden of the River, with charge of all the ferries, dredges, and irrigation ditches along the Skahazadhan for fifty leagues, but the Shavepate had refused that ancient and honorable office, as Hizdahr called it, preferring to retire to the modest pyramid of Kandaq.

Mounted men were of more use in open fields and hills than in the narrow streets and alleys of the city. Beyond Meereen's walls of many-colored brick, Dany's rule was tenuous at best. Thousands of slaves still toiled on vast estates in the hills, growing wheat and olives, herding sheep and goats, and mining salt and copper. Meereen's storehouses held ample supplies of grain, oil, olives, dried fruit, and salted meat, but the stores were dwindling. So Dany had dispatched her tiny khalasar to subdue the hinterlands, under the command of her three bloodriders, whilst Brown Ben Plumm took his Second Sons south to guard against Yunkish incursions.

The most crucial task of all she had entrusted to Daario Naharis, glib-tongued Daario with his gold tooth and trident beard, smiling his wicked smile through purple whiskers. Beyond the eastern hills was a range of rounded sandstone mountains, the Khyzai Pass, and Lhazar. If Daario could convince the Lhazarene to reopen the overland trade routes, grains could be brought down the river or over the hills at need …

The sea provides all the salt that Qarth requires, but I would gladly take as many olives as you cared to sell me. Olive oil as well."

"I have none to offer. The slavers burned the trees." Olives had been grown along the shores of Slaver's Bay for centuries; but the Meereenese had put their ancient groves to the torch as Dany's host advanced on them, leaving her to cross a blackened wasteland. "We are replanting, but it takes seven years before an olive tree begins to bear, and thirty years before it can truly be called productive. What of copper?"

Sansa does not come anywhere close to Dany and Jon in terms of leadership and that she’s so often pushed as this future queen in fandom, including by bnfs and so called asoiaf experts, is baffling, frustrating and hilarious.

What, if any, attributes does Sansa have to even be a peacetime ruler? After the war means rebuilding from scratch, making deals, hard bargaining, strategizing, using political tools, rebuilding the economy for war torn lands, get in the food, grow the food - precisely the kind of thing Dany is doing in Meereen. Or Jon thinking of building green houses in the Gift to grow food.

But Sansa building a snow model of Winterfell means that she’s the best qualified peace time ruler? Reddit dudebros and so called tumblr feminists united in wanting female characters who wield soft power and uphold the patriarchy as future rulers.

Even when it comes to personal growth, while Sansa has come a long way from her AGoT days, she still has some catching up to do with her peers. After getting hold of LF, Sansa complains that Harry is a horrible person for calling her a bastard.

Come,” Petyr said, “walk with me.” He took her by the arm and led her deeper into the vaults, past an empty dungeon. “And how was your first meeting with Harry the Heir?”

“He’s horrible.”

“The world is full of horrors, sweet. By now you ought to know that. You’ve seen enough of them.”

“Yes,” she said, “but why must he be so cruel? He called me your bastard. Right in the yard, in front of everyone.”

Now, personally, this is the point where I would like some introspection from Sansa. Remember when Sansa called out Jon as a jealous bastard in front of her friends in AGoT and Arya defended him?

Sansa sighed as she stitched.  “Poor Jon,” she said.  “He gets jealous because he's a bastard.”

“He’s our brother,” Arya said, much too loudly. Her voice cut through the afternoon quiet of the tower room.

“Our half brother,” Sansa corrected, soft and precise. - Arya, AGoT

Considering the way Sansa ignored Joffrey’s attack on Arya, it’s a good bet that if Harry the Heir had called out Jon Snow as a bastard in front of everyone in AGoT, Sansa would not have an issue with it. Now that she is being insulted as one, she gets to experience the hurt that Jon felt everyday growing up in Winterfell as a real bastard.

But even here, she refuses to scrutinize the situation more than simply getting angry at being called a bastard. Sansa is often held up as this compassionate, kindest person, ‘beacon of hope for the future’, a queen who cares for the masses etc. But where is her questioning why the classist prejudice against bastards is in itself wrong?

She is angry that she is being called a bastard, she is not angry that bastards are treated as less than. She doesn’t question the societal prejudice against bastards, only angry that she has to pretend to be one and be insulted as one. She doesn’t spare a second reflecting on her bastard brother Jon Snow or question her low opinion of bastards:

Sansa could never understand how two sisters, born only two years apart, could be so different. It would have been easier if Arya had been a bastard, like their half brother Jon. She even looked like Jon, with the long face and brown hair of the Starks, and nothing of their lady mother in her face or her coloring. And Jon’s mother had been common, or so people whispered. Once, when she was littler, Sansa had even asked Mother if perhaps there hadn’t been some mistake. - Sansa, AGoT

And that’s the difference I see between Sansa and characters like Dany, Arya, Jon, Brienne and even with Tyrion and Penny. While GRRM interrogates Westerosi society prejudices, feudalism, classism, sexism, slavery, ableism, bigotry, the effects of war on the small folk etc with these other characters, Sansa rarely reflects on these issues. That’s why it makes no sense when epithets like ‘embodiment of hope for the future’ is used to describe the character. Hope for whom? The small folk? The patriarchy? The feudal lords?

Sansa being nice to people like the stuttering Ser Wallace is held up as her being the kindest ever. But Jon is nice to Shireen, Arya is kind to Weasel, Jaime is kind to Tyrion. Why is kindness and compassion only highlighted for Sansa, like some unique feature of hers when many characters, even the villains, exhibit kindness?

This is Jon Snow in ADwD

“I see what you are, Snow. Half a wolf and half a wildling, baseborn get of a traitor and a whore. You would deliver a highborn maid to the bed of some stinking savage. Did you sample her yourself first?” He laughed. “If you mean to kill me, do it and be damned for a kinslayer. Stark and Karstark are one blood.”

“My name is Snow.”

“Bastard.”

“Guilty. Of that, at least.”  - Jon Snow, ADwD

This is Sansa Stark in TWoW:

Ser Harrold looked down at her coldly. “Why should it please me to be escorted anywhere by Littlefinger’s bastard?”  

“Yes,” she said, “but why must he be so cruel? He called me your bastard. Right in the yard, in front of everyone.”  - Alayne, TWoW

Sansa in TWoW is as hurt by the bastard moniker as Jon Snow was in AGoT when addressed as such by Tyrion. She’s emotionally where Jon Snow was in AGoT, while Jon has matured enough to not care for such insults anymore. And this is book 6! I guess it makes sense considering Jon is 16 -17 and Sansa would be 13 - 14 years old, making her younger than him in AGoT. But this is why the whole ‘Jon should take Sansa’s advice to rule because she’s the smartest ever!’ trash the show pushed to hype up Sansa is complete nonsense.

I don’t know how many chapters GRRM will be devoting to Sansa in the Vale in TWoW, but there’s still a lot of growth and character development pending for book Sansa. As I have always said, Sansa has a lot of information but she rarely if ever introspects on what she has heard and seen. She knows that LF last had Jeyne Poole but at one point wonders where Jeyne Poole is... Just ask LF dammit! She knows that Lysa had Jon Arryn poisoned on LF’s say so and knows that SweetRobin is being dosed with dangerous levels of Sweetsleep and that LF is banking on his death and yet thinks that SweetRobin will be okay. She needs to start putting two and two together to come up with four and I suspect that in itself will take up the whole of TWoW.

So will Sansa become any kind of queen or ruler? No. If she survives the books, I can see her being Lady of the Vale and be moving the chess pieces around. I can see her gaining agency and maybe even be the real power in the Vale aka Littefinger. Just like Jon, Arya, Bran and Dany I think Sansa will be a darker character in TWoW. The game of thrones cannot be played honorably and she will need to get her hands dirty to outwit LF and take him down at his own game.

The point where Sansa simply stops narrating what she sees and actually starts analyzing what she sees in her POV chapters is when the student will become the master and I am excited to see that happening.

[worstloki]

Top Forty Thor-Being-Thor Moments from Thor 1

just absolute dumb*ssery that this 7yr old kid’s life goal is to “hunt down the monsters and slay them all”. I’ll go easy on him here and let the Thor/Loki expressions do the talking because of “...just like you did Father” but seriously can his hands even fit around a sword handle??? this kid isn’t even punching the air right??? if there was a sword in his hand he would’ve cut his head with the way he’s moving???? pure tiny-himbo energy here just look at that >:o face he’s making. contrasts very nicely with Loki’s ‘,:|. 10/10. such a baby idiot.

“the jotuns must pay for what they have done! they broke into the weapons vault! if the frost giants had stolen even one of these relics!” thor. thor please. can you even name one of these relics. thor. hey thor. thor. shut up. “well, what would you do about this?” odin asks him. “march into jotunheim! like you once did! break their spirits! so they’ll never try anything like this again!” wow okay so we’ve fast-forwarded by like a thousand years and thor is still going on about genocide. huh. that’s funny, i thought loki was the genocidal one. hmm. i also just realized that the loki exclusive clip gives loki the same hairstyle thor has here so do what you will with that information.

0/10. horrible. terrible. i dont care how angy thor is about not getting to kill some jotuns or become king today this very instant, that is a tremendous waste of food. an absolute fool. how can he just remorselessly throw the bread to the floor. if loki stabbed him when he was 7 he would deserve it for this table flip alone. what a privileged white *ssh*le.

loki came skulking around a corner and suggested not to go to jotunheim and not only did thor not suspect anything but he also then went on to decide to go to jotunheim. 10/10 himbo material. 

if tumblr didn’t have a picture limit i would put every instance of thor smiling in this list because look at that stupid smile. he’s such an idiot. 11/10. this is the thor content i’m here for.

“I have no plans to die today” thor says with the stupidest open-mouthed smirking smile ever captured on film. right after he also told heimdall not to tell anyone they’re gone. he’s literally planned to strand them on jotunheim. thor’s grand plan was to strange themselves on jotunheim and also start a fight. i repeat: thor’s plan was to successfully slay all the frost giants and not need to return until they’re all gone. what an absolute d*mb*ss. this is getting ridiculous. this was originally a top-ten-thor moments list but i’m not even twenty minutes in so i’ll have to extend the list. thor. thor are you listening? thor, you’re such an idiot.

“HOW DID YOUR PEOPLE GET INTO ASGARD?!” thor you sweet sweet summer idiot, please, i am beggin,g you,, learn to rea,d , a room,, literally everyone else who came with you is regretting it, there is complete silence and only the rumble of the opposing king is meeting your “I AM THOR, SON OF ODIN”s, please, please take some notes from Loki, or, you know, literally anyone else in the room, since everyone is asking you to get out of this realm while you still can,

thor’s stupid smile makes an appearance after he gets called a princess and decides to fight a whole realm over it. you know what? thor is a princess. he’s the prettiest princess in all the lands. what’s thor gonna do about it? is he going to fight me too? I hope he does the stupid grin first. minus 15 points for the sexism. thor is a complete and utter sadistic fool who needs to get a hobby. seriously, he’s 1500 years old and still going on and on about slaying all the frost giants. boi, i hate to break it to you, but your dad is not the best or only example of greatness out there. i don’t think your dad even qualifies as an example of that. 

“THEN. GO!” 🥰 ahh yes, just thor thingz 🥰🥰 like when one friend has had his arm burnt 🥰 and another friend has been impaled and needs medical attention, 🥰🥰 and all the rest of your friends are yelling for you, 🥰 and your brother is telling you they must go, 🥰 and you decide to buy everyone time by laughing maniacally and killing more frosties because you care for them and dont find joy in destruction like a loon 🥰🥰🥰 

THIS is the iconic Thor moment that makes my day whenever I think about it. Just Thor, an absolute bumbering 6′6′’ giant boodlusting dummy sees Odin and just decides to yell “FATHAA!! WE’LL FINISH THEM TOGETHAAA!” as if the last thing Odin told him wasn’t “no, thor, we’re not going to do anything to the frost giants, do not go after them and try to kill them all.” 11/10 d*mb*assery right here folks, I couldn’t ask for Thor to be more of a fool. This is PEAK Thor energy. Look at that face. I feel like Thor spends half this movie with his nostrils flared. I love it.

okay i gotta give thor credit for rightfully calling odin “an old man and a fool” but also there was not even 1 frame of the scene where Thor had a decent face so now all i see is >:O >:| >:o >:[ when i watch that scene. yelling at odin was great, not yelling at odin after he HUAERGHed at loki was less great, but to be fair it’s thor and he is the definition of Peak D*mb*ss. 

thor literally GROWLS and starts yelling “HAMMAA?? HAMMER??” over and over. He was hit by a van, he fainted, he woke up and started growling. I don’t know what else there is to say about this.

“you dare threaten me? puny human?”. so. uhh. basically. Thor knew she was threatening him? He KNEW she had a weapon? instead he made a face and started yelling as he tried to walk his way closer????? thor you complete and utter dum dum. you frickin hairball-for-brains. im not even surprised darcy tasered him. with that kind of face, i’d taser him too.

when you wake up in an unknown place to a person smiling at you without a stupid smile, the first step is always to attack first and ask questions later 😌😌😌 (but seriously thor you imbecile why didn’t you ask where you were instead of throwing multiple people around the room and getting your butt needled. you clueless buffoon. you’ll remain a clueless buffoon if you don’t listen to anyone.)

just a quick recap but thor was knocked unconscious by a van and these people kidnapped him aboard and the next scene we see him in he’s checking himself out in  mirror after presumably changing right there in the open?????? these are the things that make thor thor. any other character and i’d question it so much, but this is thor, and i truly believe this is in-character for him. just change in the open because why not? thor is a beefcake and that’s his only redeeming quality and he knows it. 10/10 thor moment. 

I am now convinced that Thor saw Jane and “5k van-hitter to lover slow-burn height-difference himbo-scientist trope” flashed through his mind.

“but no more smashing!” Jane says, and then Thor proceeds to check her out and smile unlike an idiot and like a douche. was this his version of flirting???? i’m not one to decide, but yes, yes it was. He threw a cup to the ground and broke it, and she’s getting mad at him and berating him about it, and he’s liking it. y’all i’m sorry to break it to you like this, but thor has a canon fetish. i am so, so sorry.

im DYING. THAT ISN’T EVEN A KISS, HIS MOUTH IS OPEN. he SMUSHES his mouth around her knuckle???? WHY. I can’t keep noticing things like this. send help. please. Jane’s response makes so much more sense now; she’s laughs for a solid 3 seconds and shakes her head and is like “uhh, thank you? ahaha,” and then she keeps looking back longingly when walking away. they are doing this in PLAIN sight of EVERYONE. Darcy and Erik are standing RIGHT THERE, and Thor is doing weird things to her with his mouth. I’m out. I am done here. goodbye. 

return of the stupid smile AND the douche smile in quick succession through the entire trip. their entire dialogue is peppered with innuendo. “I’ve never done anything like this before. have you ever done anything like this before?” “many times, but you are brave to do it.” “I have nothing else to lose.” “ah but you are clever, far more clever than anyone else on this realm.” “realm? rEaLm?” “you think me strange?” “yes” “good strange or bad strange?” “I haven’t decided yet.” I AM DYING OVER THIS. plus, we get Return Of The Himbo with Jane asking after Einstein Rosen bridges and Thor is like “uh, actually, more like a rainbow bridge 😜🤪” i feel so sorry for jane here, didn’t know how much of a d*mb*ss Thor was when signing up for this van-trip and knuckle-sucking 😭😭😭 i also no longer have questions about how the trip that SHOULD HAVE BEEN A HALF-HOUR ONE turned into one that LASTED TILL THE SUN WENT FROM THE MIDDLE OF THE SKY TO SETTING by the time they arrived. I have no questions. please. I don’t want to know what they were doing in that van. please no. don’t make me think about it.

thor’s plan had 3 steps and they were 1. give jane his jacket 2. walk in and get his hammer 3. fly out. that was literally his plan. he had the first “I have a plan. attack.” moment in the MCU. pure concentrated 0-brain-cells energy right here. how can you not stan this king of d*mb*ssery. look at him, flaunting his big boy muscles. he’s about get his hammer and fly out, like he just told jane with a trademark stupid-smile.

crop-top hair-mop thor is my favourite thor. the way the entire fight scene parallels a hamster in a maze only exemplifies the thor vibes for some inexplicable reason.

“you’re big. fought bigger.” + Thor douche-smile + subtext from earlier + rolling around passionately in the mud = not a happy me. 

I swear i’m not making up this romantic subtext but it’s barely even subtext. the entire scene leading up to Thor’s attempt at lifting the hammer is actually filmed erotically. I’m not kidding. First there’s a shot where Thor pulls aside a hamster-cage-wall blind which mirrors a shower-curtain, and THEN he walks around the hammer while smiling douche-ly at it, we get a few close-ups to his face which are shot from angles slightly lower than himself, giving him an aire of superiority, plus the music adds to this, he reaches out for the hammer’s handle with a mud-covered arm in the rain, in non-slow-motion slow-motion, and he wraps his arm around it, like, he fully twists his arm, unecessarily sexually, around it as he grabs the hammer. This is not okay. On the plus side, it makes the movie much more entertaining,, on the down side,,.

im not going to call Thor dumb for not knowing he’s not worthy. im not going to. because odin literally whispered the enchantment to mjolnir after he’d thrown thor to midgard. it is very funny watching thor grunt in frustration though. he starts yelling because he couldn’t lift the hammer and just lets himself get caught. like, dude, get a life, go buy a new weapon from the store, seriously. he mourns for the hammer on-screen longer than he does for loki. he also looks like he’s in far more pain here. he becomes catatonic and unresponsive after this, but when loki dies he’s already feasting the same afternoon. 10/10 dum dum thor material. never change thor, never change. (that’s code for please change, thor, please,)

thor trying to establish dominance wherever he goes is the funniest thing because at this point he’s being a complete asgardian *ss about it and it’s reaching points of pettiness never seen before. side note: he is possibly flirting with selvig too. maybe. i’m not saying anything happened, but Thor’s openning lines when bringing him home carried over his shoulder are “he’s fine, not injured at all,” followed with an apology to selvig, and an explanation to jane which consisted only of “we drank, we fought, he made his ancestors proud,” and then he puts the man to bed and before he falls asleep erik says “i still don’t believe you’re the g*d of th*nder, but you ought to be,” so... your choice, i guess...

thor’s got his trademark stupid smile and stupidly takes jane’s life’s work notebook and starts doodling in it about trees. the last time his father told him this story about Yggdrasil was when he was 5 and he clearly hasn’t payed attention to any lesson about anything since and it shows so so much. thank you thor. very insightful knowledge you’re passing on hear. ‘i come from a world where [science and magic] are one and the same,’ ok great, now elaborate on that please. oh, right, you can’t because you’re thor, my bad, 20/10 thor behaviour. he couldn’t even doodle nicely. all his lines are wobbly. epic art fail. i wouldn’t trust him near my sketchbook with a 2B pencil.

THIS is thor’s realization face. in case anyone was interested in what ‘dawning truth’ looked like on him. 😰😪 THIS is the face of a thinker, of a man betrayed by his own beloved brother for unprecedented reasons. look at the nuance in his expression. 😩😩😩 so many emotions, I can’t even count them all 😩💯😪

stupid smile and “do not worry my friends, i have a plan,” he says, “i’ll just try and abuse the fact that Loki’s super selfless and kind and has no self worth to my benefit as i have countless times before which is exactly what he’s rightfully angry about this time,” he doesn’t think to himself because that is NOT the smile of someone who is thinking... like, at all. +10000 points to gryffinthor. the d*mb*ssery really jumps out.

“im sorry bro for whatever i did and whatever you’re blaming me for as an excuse to do this, im sorry bro, but you’re disturbing innocents that i don’t really care about but you’re the one making a scene in front of them so why don’t you admit you won’t kill me and are just having a temper tantrum and we move on? hmm?” and then he proceeds to get slam dunked in the face with a metal arm like yEAAAA BOI that’s what you GET for going up against the SENTIENT LAVA-SPEWING metal-man ya absolute dunderhead clod. thunderhead clod? yeah, that. he’s just so dumb, your honour, please, you must understand, the victim pleads guilty on all charges of d*mb*ss and d*mb*ss alone.

I can NOT describe the emotions I feel knowing that Thor is suck-kissing Jane’s knuckles. Like, his mouth is literally jelly-ing it up against her hand. There is suction there and it shows when he is placing and removing his mouth. I promise that’s what is happening. I’m not any happier than you about this. I regret everything. This is why Loki should be what is focused on and not Thor; Thor’s going around trying to frick frack everything in sight even if it’s just Jane’s hand. He’s maintaining eye contact with Jane while he licks her fingers. Why did I decide to rewatch this movie. 

i’m only adding this in as a thor moment because of how desperately and badly they kiss. seriously. 2/10 kiss. im not surprised jane broke up with him. they look like two actual seals fighting over an actual grape. while i’m here i’m going to criticize every fic ever that decided thor is an experienced gentle lover. what were y’all on when watching this movie. thor can and will f*ck literally everything in sight and he won’t even do it well because he is the peakest of peak d*m d*m. look at this man. look at his face. that is the face of an absolute himbo idiot, and it’s the face of an absolute himbo idiot who knows it. he’s been stranded on earth for 2 days, max, and his flirt-count is at 69 people because his name is one letter away from thot. i bet his terrible use of a pen from early means he writes his ‘r’s like ‘t’s and he doesn’t even care. 1000/10 thor moment. doesn’t get much more romance-thor than two individuals smooshing their faces together after some finger sucking. that finger sucking is gonna leave jane simping for years. and that’s true love babey. <3

“I’ll handle my Brother!” Thor says, as if Loki didn’t send a metal-murder-bot that quite virtually killed him less than ten minutes ago asdfhkhsdgsdjf Thor, you horrific himbo you, Loki’s weapon of choice is literally throwing knives he will literally kill you before you enter the room if he’s on his game and wants you dead which he just proved he would do and you’re just gonna???????????? jog on over to him????? Thor??????????? bruH???????????? buddy??????? pal???????? you really wanna go 1v1 the brother you very clearly underestimate and know nothing about????????????????? im loving the confidence, but, no.

Loki: “you literally can’t stop this from here.” Thor, immediately: “i’m going to hit it with the hammer and see if that works” and then it does in fact work later... technically speaking, even if it ends up causing chaos destruction and death and loki falling off the bifrost 😔😔😔 but Big Brain Thor is the Biggest Brained Thor!!! The plan worked!! in a messy-Thor-ish way, but it did!!!

“you can’t kill an entire race!!!!” Thor yells, teeth gritted, as he faces his brother, his coward pacifist brother, who has suddenly decided he wants to join the age-old family tradition of realm-destroying, when this is supposed to be Thor’s dream, Thor’s, not Loki’s. How dare he, Thor thinks to himself, fist clenched around Mjolnir in anger, the pain of the handle pressing against his palm perhaps the only thing preventing him from lashing out at this thought, that’s my planet of monsters to slay, he should go get his own! Loki hits Thor across the face with the back-end of his spear. “Now fight me,” Loki says, but Thor, well, Thor cannot fight, as he remains stunned that of all things Loki would dare steal his life’s ambition, and he is sent sprawling backwards across the observatory, slowly but surely sliding to a stop despite his catatonic, very symbolic silence.

the elegance, the poise, i see your time on earth has made you no less graceful, Thor. the simple magnitude of this sprawl. the spread of the arms. the turn of the feet. this is not a dude, this is a man.

sometimes your brother starts vehemently talking about he’s gonna kill the race of monsters and about how he’s only ever wanted to be your equal and about how he’s not your brother and never was and sometimes you just have to say “this is madness” instead of addressing the issues or asking for any of the  deets 🔥 👊💯😩

Loki is whipping Thor’s butt. Both literally, and metaphorically, Loki is whooping Thor’s d*mb*ss. Earlier he knicked Thor’s face, now he’s just pushing Thor around, he uses the spear as a pole and later kicks Thor’s face by kicking vertically up, and Thor, bless him in all his blond golden muscled glory, doesn’t think anything is up with this, gosh he’s such an absolute utter idiot

sometimes your brother laughs way too much and also cries too much in a fight and there are also too many of him so you just need to blast lightning so you get a shot at all of them 😌😌😌 and then put your magical infinitely-heavy hammer on his chest 😌😌😌 but it’s okay because Thor left holes in Loki’s container 😌😌😌

now THIS is the meat to Thor’s funny bone, just the pure unadulterated humour that is Thor saying that there will never be a “wiser king” or a “better father” than Odin, it cracks me up every single time without fail, just the way he says it with a straight face and— what do you mean he wasn’t joking

look at Thor’s stupid smile as he asks Heimdall to spy on jane every single day while conveniently never asking after Loki ever. This is Thor’s face in mourning after he attended a feast after everyone was celebrating after Loki’s death. Look at his stupid smile. I love him your honour. He’s just,, he’s just so frickin stewpeed, just Thor being Thor, just the purest of d*mbest of *sses. 

[angelkurenai]

Subtext - Sebastian Stan x Reader

Title: Subtext

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warnings: None

Prompt: Hii, could you do a Sebastian imagine where you're his costar and he has a crush on you, and you're doing a interview together and the interviewer is being very flirty and checking you out and you're oblivious to it.

“You look at some of those suits and wonder: How did they even get in them in the first place? Because it's so intricate, it makes me wonder. About the actors and actresses I mean.” the interviewer added, his eyes mostly on you, but his words going out for the both of you.

“Superheroes have it so much easier all the time.” you said with a sigh “It's such a struggle to get in those suits, not to mention get the makeup on and whatnot.”

“For some it takes up to five hours for the makeup, like Karen, and I remember hearing someone once had an issue on set with the suit while we were filming Civil War and they-” Sebastian paused in thought “Yes, it took about half an hour to get on their suit. Which, by the way, is no easy thing to keep on in the scorching heat of- of the location we were filming in.”

“Oh my gosh, that day-- I still remember. A nightmare. But-” you said, your eyes mostly on Sebastian before you met the interviewer's eyes again “See? And then people wonder why I'm such a fan of the Phoenix force. Like, that thing enters your body and gives you a different outfit without the trouble of having to chance or be careful for your makeup and hair! And it has plenty of different outfits. The moment I saw that I was like: sold! Get me one, where can I get me one?”

Sebastian laughed next to you, shaking his head “I mean she's got a point. Personally speaking, though, I can't say I have to complain. I mostly wear normal clothes and a glove that covers my supposed metal arm. And even when I do have to wear the arm itself it's just the easiest. So yeah, my suit is just that and I certainly have the fastest dress up on set. Plus it's not as uncomfortable as most.”

“A lucky asshole is what he is.” you teased, trying to say with as much seriousness as you could master at that moment before breaking it with a laugh, focusing back on the question “Personally speaking, it is rather time consuming to get into my suit. But given that we've managed to keep it on two pieces I usually wear the upper part with like a pair of shorts and only when I have to film I wear the lower part. It's only then that it gets a bit uncomfortable, but again it's not for like the entire time I'm on set so it's good. Even though the look itself is... tragic, to say the least. I'm still comfy so that's what I care about though.”

“Shorts?” the interviewer's eyebrows shot up in surprise as his eyes did a once over of your body which only made you giggle “I've seen photos and let me tell you, they were far from tragic. You always look amazing, but- Along with half of the suit? Well, that's what I call one heck of a look!”

“Well, it's a lot sillier than it sounds.” you admitted with a laugh, completely oblivious to the way Sebastian's eyes narrowed “Because Scarlett had gotten me those shorts as a gift and they have tiny (Y/S/N) signs in them that earn laughter from my friends when it's topped with the top half of my suit.”

“I assure you I would most certainly not laugh.” the man in front of you said in all honesty “Not at such a sight, believe me. I would be more, like, thanking my lucky stars for being that blessed.”

But despite all the honesty, or maybe because of it too, the way the man look at you was unmistakable. Just as unmistakable as the feeling rising in Sebastian's chest. He clenched his jaw and tried to bite back any words that could so easily pour, especially if the man kept it up, and he knew it would lead to no good. Not being he was technically working but because it wasn't really his place. You were friends, granted the closest of friends and he knew and admitted it (at least to himself) that he had stronger feelings for you but that didn't necessarily mean it went both ways and he couldn't risk what you already had for it. And that itched him more, it frustrated him more and it annoyed him more, more than anything else.

He was annoyed and not just with the interviewer but with himself as well. It was this annoying feeling of wanting to do something when other men looked at you this way, when they were being too friendly and too flirty, an annoying feeling that put him on edge and ready to do something, anything, to make it stop -jealousy Chris had called it with a knowing smile -and each time his mind provided him with the word he tried to deny it as much as he had done that day to Chris. But for how much longer?

His patience, will and all-around strength was seriously tested and he had to clench his fists along with his jaw to hold himself back.

“Aw thank you, you're too sweet to me-” you insisted too oblivious to everything that was happening, unlike Sebastian next to you who highly doubted he was being only sweet to you “But I can take the hard truth: It was silly to say the least. Though, if I am completely honest, my character has had plenty of different suits and variations of the main suit and yet none of those were nearly as good as the shorts Scarlett got me. I also have an over-sized T-shirt that goes with them and there are times I seriously consider turning that into my suit for a movie. Let's add matching socks and boom, best superhero costume ever!” you laughed and Sebastian only forced a chuckle as he noticed the raised eyebrow and look of interest the other man in the chair gave you “Not that I am sure if there is even a single person that would like to see that to be honest.”

“Oh trust me, I gladly volunteer! And I'll be the first one to buy a ticket to that movie!” the man smiled, a smile that could easily be considered one of his most charming ones, no wonder one of those smiles that he used on women at bars that would have them falling or him in seconds if they weren't as oblivious as you at the moment and accompanied by a sulking- no, scratch that, by a glaring and broody man that is. And he went on “Not as if I'm not already one of the first people to get tickets to your every movie anyway.”

“Oh my gosh, stop- I can feel my face heating up!” you grinned, and Sebastian recognized it as one of the most genuine and heartfelt ones you reserved for the people you wanted closer to you “I am seriously doubting you'd want to see it, though, or anyone else. I think the fancy suits are a great factor in drawing in crowds, you know?”

“But I mean, so is good acting, right? And you're undoubtedly one of the best if not the best actress of our era, and I dare anyone to fight me on that cause I and the Oscars got all the facts on this.” and after the easy smile came the really flirty one that was hard to miss, at least to Sebastian; who only shifted in his chair and took a deep breath to calm down and listen the rest of it cause there was more “Plus, I don't know about others, but I love a woman in baggie clothes, in tight clothes or with no clothes at all. Honestly anything that makes her comfortable. However she feels beautiful is what matters. It's not my business what she does with her body too, you know?”

“A catchy line with a lot of subtext, of course he would.” Sebastian thought bitterly.

“Wow I might have a terrible memory but I don't think a man has ever told me that?” you gasped your smile getting bigger “What have you been all this time? I gotta have my friends meet you!”

“Oh just here and totally ready for grabs if you're interested!” he spread his arms wide and grinned, easily earning another laugh from you, before he let them drop and added “Though, to answer your question, you probably haven't been looking in the right place.” the man laughed, again a warm and charming chuckle, that Sebastian didn't doubt could have many women falling for him yet fearing at the same time that you'd be one of them.

The thought, as small and quick as it might have been, when it flashed through his mind, it was greatly disturbing for his entire nerve system. He felt the unpleasant shivers as his back straightened and his muscles tightened. His breathing stuttered as it came out of his lips and he could swear he felt his heart do a scary leap to his throat.

“Sorry, on her part, for not paying attention. Since (Y/n) can't come up with an answer now, I'll speak on her behalf.” Sebastian said with what he hoped looked like a small easy smile and it probably worked because you chuckled.

But before you could open your lips to speak, he beat you at it and this time every hint of a smile had vanished “We were under the impression that this was a professional interview.” he heard a small sharp intake from next to him but he ignored it “Maybe we should have checked before we came in here. Do you do this with every actress that walks in here by the way? Wonder how's that working out for you so far.”

“Seb” you muttered, but once more he ignored you.

“Must suck that I'm still the one she'll be walking out of here with and spending the rest of the day and you'll be left daydreaming about how her bed looks like. I don't need to.” he shrugged “But hey, I can always give you a tip of two for the next one that walks in, how about that?”

“Oh my- How many more minutes are there to this interview again?”

[neon-junkie]

unpopular opinion: Micah is terrible but he shows instances of having real, human emotions and completely erasing those moments to paint him as a 100% monster is a disservice for the fandom.

arrrrkajslkfjdsglk okay I'm gonna break Micah down and explain why I like him, just bc of everything going on and cause you've summed that up perfectly. Let's make one thing clear - I don't stan his actions, I never have, I never will. A lot of ppl seem to keep ignoring that lmfao. AND we all know that Micah is a fucking piece of shit. He's the devil. We know. Like the list goes on and on and on when it comes down to why Micah's garbage, but I guarantee you, there is NOBODY out there who actually *stans* him. He's a villain and damn good one. Now. Relating to what you've said, this man has just as much emotion as everybody else. I think the people who view him as an emotionless monster have either never seen ANY camp interactions with him, or they just choose to ignore them. For whatever reason. Idk. It is VERY obvious that Micah has 100% been abused by his father, probably physically as well as mentally and emotionally. He openly talks about the monster that his father is, and he KNOWS that he is just like his father. Now, Amos (his bro), on the other hand, has managed to break away from that lifestyle, straighten his ways, and settled down. Micah is so obviously jealous and even takes the time to write to his brother, probably to try and rekindle their sibling friendship or whatever you wanna call it. Amos basically goes 'NO' and slaps that idea right out of Micah's head, so I do feel bad that Micah was rejected. Amos makes it clear that he will only rekindle that if Micah changes, but he doubts Micah is able to change. So now his only 'role models' are gone - his father and Amos - Micah has nothing left to lose. He has no family, friends that encourage his chaos rather than help fix him, and no partner. He's a loose cannon, and without guidance, Micah will only continue to fire. That's why he sucks up to Dutch so much, because he STILL needs acceptance, praise, and guidance, and Dutch gives him all of that. Yeah, it's creepy to see, but that man must be dying inside if he'll literally lick Dutch's shoes just for a bit of acceptance. Micah clearly does try, like his approach to making friends is so cringe, but he's clearly never ever done this before, and he's only following the ways his father taught him. I mean, we see him still try to befriend Arthur at the start of the game, but Arthur barely looks at him and just continues to shoot him down. I know Arthur is probably following his gut, but people can't say that Micah didn't try. And we see him try it on with the women of the camp, he's clearly desperate to at least find a partner, and probably secretly jealous that his brother has that and a family. And if his brother can do it, then maybe he can too? and we do see him try. But Micah's no rapist, and it makes me cringe when ppl say that. There's a good post about it (here) that I won't go into detail, u can just read that for urself. So - Micah has nothing to lose. The camp doesn't want him there, so it's no sweat off his nose if he rats them out. Obviously, I don't agree with it and I think Micah should have just left, but then that'd be a very boring game lmfao.  There's nobody stopping him from causing chaos, and he's just going to continue to do what he was taught to do - be a fucking piece of shit. But to say he has no emotions? You sure about that? It's SO obvious that Micah still craves acceptance in any form, whether it's from a friend, a partner, his mentor, etc. He NEEDS acceptance and he seems very lost without it. And it's so clear that Micahs past trauma still controls his actions, and he clearly has no idea how to even begin accepting and moving past his trauma. That man just needs a therapist asap. Peter Blomquist said it himself, that Micah is essentially just misunderstood. (here) And well, if his own actors said that then why the hell do people continue to ignore it? Because they just want to hate Micah. They view him as an evil and racist piece of shit and just want to hate that, which everybody does cause yanno, it's bad. But they continue to ignore that Micah, like Bill, suffers from a lot of mental trauma and issues, and his past has resulted in the person that he is today. I’ll say this AGAIN, I’m not condoning his actions, far from it, I’ve said many times before that Micah is fucking garbage, we just find him interesting. Honestly, I think if the gang was accepting, or if Micah had someone to shove him in the right direction, then he would have redeemed himself and fixed his ways. Things like racism are taught, and if you can teach it, then you can unteach it, just like Bill begins to learn. Micah is a villain and that's why I like him. Again, I don't support or stan his actions, but it's just so refreshing to see someone so chaotic and loose. People saying that you shouldn't like Micah because he's racist, also choose to ignore the fact that Abigails abusive, so why do y'all still stan her when we see the way she speaks to John? or the way she physically abuses him? So abuse is fine but racism isn't? hmm.  But if we shouldn't like Micah because he's bad then why the hell do we like characters like Darth Vader or all the fucking Disney villains? Have you seen how much merch those criminals have? But a bunch of strangers on the internet having a wank over the ratman is bad? We're allowed to enjoy those but not Micah? big sigh. Peter also said that there's nothing wrong with liking Micah. You're allowed to enjoy villains, it's not a fucking crime, and it doesn't mean you support their actions, it never has done.

PLUS, this is a game full of mass murderers?!?! Arthur does a LOT that is considered questionable, such as beating a terminally ill man into his grave, but people choose to draw the line at Micah. You’re free to enjoy whatever fiction you want, but there’s no line you can draw. Well, you can draw a line for yourself, but you can’t rule what others can and cannot enjoy.

It's just SO tiring (personally) to constantly see happy endings and pure, wholesome, golden characters. I'm a sucker for bad guys and seeing them win, so when I played RDR I was like 'oh yeah, this is what I need' and that's probably why Micah's my fave lmao. It's so refreshing to see, and there's nothing wrong with enjoying it. Some people just enjoy villains, big whoop. We need to stop expecting characters to be pure cause that's just so unrealistic. Everybody has flaws of all different kinds, and that's what makes these characters human. Like, are we just choosing to ignore the fact that Arthur is the most wanted out of the gang, who has probably murdered the most people? Do we just wanna sweep his kill count under the rug and choose to hate Micah based on the one fact of him being racist? The whole fucking gang are outlaws, they're all essentially villains, even the babies like Kieran!! Micah is just as complex as every other character in this stinky game, and people who refuse to acknowledge his layers and just portray him as a monster are whack as shit. And remember, those who tell you what you can and can't enjoy are just as bad as Micah Bell himself. Especially the ones who abuse you over FICTION.

[loserslibrary]

pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak [Reddie] written by: Jane rating: Mature warnings: heavy angst, amnesia,  word count: 3,693 prompt:  From anon: Some post-chapter two Reddie? Maybe Eddie moving in with Richie after his divorce. i know it’s been done a hundred times but i love it everytime!!

When Eddie first wakes up, they don’t realise there’s anything wrong.

In truth, they’re all just fucking grateful that he’s there. That he’s okay. There’s a lot of tears, and hugging, and Richie thinks his heart is going to burst right out of his chest. So much of their lives has been terrible, and there’s an ache in his chest that’ll never fade, a grief he doesn’t have words for when he thinks of Stan, but he thinks that maybe, just maybe, the universe has given them all a break. Just this once.

When Eddie’s a bit fuzzy about the date the next day, they put it down to the head trauma. He got stabbed in the face, and then the chest, and then thrown across a fucking rock cave before being dragged out of a collapsing structure by terrified, desperate people; there’s no surprise it’s having some impact.

After two weeks pass, though, and Eddie still wakes up with a frown, thinking it’s June 1st, Richie’s heart sinks.

The universe has never cut them a break. Why would he think it would start now?

-

They can’t explain it to his wife. It’s not that they don’t know how to—though they really, really fucking don’t—but they physically can’t. Nobody has any real idea how to find her at first, and when they do, they’re all just silent. Speechless. There’s nothing to say, nothing that can make sense of any of this, nothing that they can say to defend themselves from her panic and tears. Richie doesn’t think they deserve to, anyway. Six of them went down. They all came back out, so proud that they hadn’t left anything behind, so fucking determined not to leave Eddie behind, no matter how bad it looked… and they’d left something behind anyway.

They didn’t know there were things they couldn’t carry out; they didn’t know that there was a part of Eddie that the clown would get to hold onto.

And Richie can’t help it, but he’s angry. He's so, so angry when he looks at Myra. It’s not her fault, he knows it’s not her fault, but he can’t help but think of all the years she had Eddie without anything missing, all the years she got to spend at Eddie’s side and never have to even question that he wouldn’t recognise her the next day, and it just—-it just really, really fucking sucks.

Myra’s not very sure of herself, but she’s sure of one thing: she’s meant to take care of Eddie. It twists at Richie’s heart, and he wants to argue, but Bev places her hands on his to calm him down. He can’t meet her eyes. He knows she saw what happened in the cistern, even if nobody else did; he knows she saw—

Richie closes his eyes, trying to block out the memory.

It turns out that Richie doesn’t need to argue with Myra; Eddie’s got that covered.

“What do you mean, he refuses?” Bill repeats back at the doctor. “He’s remembering?” Richie’s stomach feels hollow when he hears the hope in Bill’s voice, that undeniable want in his voice for it to all be okay. Richie’s never managed to shoot his hope to smithereens either, but he can’t bring himself to think anything about this is ever going to go well for them. 

He thinks about Stan, and wants to throw up.

“No, he still thinks it’s June 1st,” the doctor says wearily. “I suppose on May 31st, he must have been pretty set against… well, it’s not really my place to say. But every day for the past week, without fail, he’s refused to go home with Mrs Kaspbrak.”

Richie’s heart lurches. Bev glances at him sidelong. He pretends not to see.

“Can I talk to him?” Richie asks abruptly, standing suddenly.

The doctor looks tired. “Technically, no, but given the circumstances and that the five of you are the only ones he asks for… Come with me, Mr Tozier.”

When Eddie’s eyes light up at the sight of Richie, it’s a punch in the chest all over again. Not Eddie being glad to see him—though that sight again after decades not even knowing he missed it never fails to take his breath away—but knowing that it’s not just because he’s a friend, but specifically because it’s Richie, it was Richie that Eddie kissed, Richie that—

Richie that Eddie can’t remember kissing, can’t remember being honest with, can’t remember almost dying for.

It’s like a knife to the gut (though some part of Richie, the part always quipping, is saying that should be Eddie’s line, Eddie’s joke, he earned it, and he did, he did, but he can’t even fucking remember, and Richie doesn’t know how to make any of this funny), that last thought, but it’s not as bad as the way Eddie’s eyes dim in a second. It hurts, thinking that because Eddie can’t remember what happened, he thinks he has to hide how he feels—-like there’s some possible version of reality where Richie Tozier doesn’t love Eddie Kaspbrak back.

Richie doesn’t care about theoretical physics, doesn’t waste his time contemplating parallel lives and all the minute variations of reality that could exist in alternate universes, but he thinks if there are infinite versions of who they are, infinite versions of their lives, there’s got to be one where they get to be happy, where they get to love each other back with no strings attached.

(He doesn’t even question the idea of whether he’d love Eddie in every universe; it’s a fundamental fact of existence. Water is wet, grass is green, and Richie Tozier falls in love with Eddie Kaspbrak stealing his cigarette and stamping it out beneath his shoe.)

“Did we beat it?” Eddie says, and it breaks Richie out of his reverie.

His heart clenches, but he puts on a smile. “Yeah, Eds, yeah, we did,” he says, heading to his bedside and dropping onto his knees. There’s a chair nearby, but it’s another two feet away from Eddie, and Richie doesn’t have the strength to pretend like he can resist being this close right now.

Eddie gives the floor a disgusted glance, flicking his gaze to the chair behind Richie, but his eyes are soft when he finds Richie’s face again, and Richie doesn’t know how to do this. “Good,” Eddie says with a hint of a smile on his face. “I guess I must have faded out after…” His brow furrows, the hint of laughter disappearing from his voice and expression as he tries to recapture the memories which Richie knows are out of reach.

Best as they can tell, the last concrete thing Eddie can remember is the doors, and it just absolutely fucking kills Richie. Ignoring the kiss, ignoring Richie’s desperate blabbering on his knees, ignoring the way Eddie looked at him with such love and wonder and told him that he knew exactly why Eddie had done what he did, that Eddie would do it again in a heartbeat—ignoring all of that, Richie is constantly furious that Eddie can’t remember what he did, that Eddie can’t remember how brave he was, standing up to that clown with nothing but an iron poker and the strongest fucking heart Richie’s ever known. It’s not fair. None of this is fucking fair.

“You hit your head,” Richie says instead of any of the anguished, turbulent thoughts whirling in his head right now. It’s better to cut these off before Eddie gets too distressed. He’s still healing, after all. It’s not because Richie’s scared. It’s not.

He gives Eddie a tight smile. “You should rest up,” he says. “I heard you had a bit of a testy morning already.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says with a frown, “about that… how the fuck did Myra get here so quickly?”

Richie stills. He’s not been allowed to talk to Eddie much over the last few days, hasn’t had to navigate these minefields before. He doesn’t want to lie to Eddie, but the doctors have cautioned them against trying to give him too much input at once. They say he might just need to give his brain some time to rest and recuperate and then it’ll naturally start healing and bringing back some of his memories. Richie knows better, though. Even if it wasn’t just a guess from the doctors, a hopeful last chance that they tried to offer Eddie’s devastated friends in the waiting room, Richie still wouldn’t believe it.

No matter how much Ben wants to hold onto hope, no matter how steady and reassuring Mike’s words are, Richie knows better. The clown would never let them win, not completely.

“We came here pretty quickly after the cistern,” Richie says carefully, the words heavy on his tongue. “Your insurance must be pretty with it, I guess? They contacted her.”

It’s true, they did; but it had taken a few days, a few blissful days where Richie let himself hope that she wouldn’t turn up at all, that Eddie would wake up one morning and remember the day before, that Eddie would be ready to talk to him, to talk about the moment that changed Richie’s life.

Eddie relaxes, though the faintest hint of a frown stays between his eyebrows. “Insurance companies should be quick workers,” he says, vaguely grumpy and so fucking Eddie that a rush of fondness crashes over Richie. He strokes Eddie’s hair without thinking about it, but stills after a second.

He thinks he hears Eddie’s breath hitch.

“It’s a bit annoying, though,” Eddie says, a sense of deliberateness in his voice as he continues. Richie wonders—hopes—if it’s a hint to keep going. He steels himself, and lets his fingers ruffle through Eddie’s hair once more. It’s only the slightest difference, something he can only tell because he’s watching Eddie so carefully, but something in his shoulders relax. Richie lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

“What d’you mean?” he asks, semi-distracted by the feeling of Eddie’s hair beneath his fingers.

“I thought I would have more time away from her,” Eddie murmurs, and Richie’s heart leaps into his throat. He’s not exactly surprised, given that Eddie fucking kissed him thinking it would be the last thing he ever got to do, but he hadn’t been sure if his marriage being wrong for him was an epiphany brought about from a life-or-death situation, or something Eddie was cognisant of beforehand.

“Not super devoted husband of you, Eds,” Richie tries to joke, but it gets stuck in his throat, coming out with entirely more hope than he’d like.

Eddie blinks, then gives him a wry smile. “No, I guess not,” he says. “Still, though. I don’t think I love her, and I don’t know if I ever did.”

Richie’s jaw drops open.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Eddie says quietly, and Richie closes his mouth immediately.

“I’m not,” he says hastily, and then amends, “or like, I’m not judging you for it—I just didn’t really expect to hear you say it.”

Eddie looks at him carefully, dark eyes cataloguing his expression, then nods, apparently satisfied with whatever he finds there. Richie wonders what it is—wonders if the way he loves Eddie has always been telegraphed on his face, wonders if Eddie built himself on Richie’s hopeless devotion their whole lives without even knowing what it was.

Then Eddie groans, lips twisting into something which could be a smile if it wasn’t so wry. Richie doesn’t like that look on Eddie’s face—doesn’t like the way it shoots right past self-deprecating and falls straight into something sharp and jagged in Richie’s chest.

“Don’t know where I’m gonna go when I’m out, though,” Eddie says, exhaling like he’s trying to keep calm through whatever fucking paces his mind’s putting him through, and Richie thinks a complete stranger would be able to see through this shitty attempt at a façade.

Richie’s not a stranger, though, and he doesn’t let the grimness beneath Eddie’s words slide with a worried sidelong glance and wisely-kept silence. Richie is Eddie’s best friend, Richie is in love with Eddie, Richie has been fluent in every twist of Eddie’s lips and wringing of his hands since they were six years old, and even though he’d let Eddie away with anything, he can’t do it this time. Not when Eddie looks like that.

Eddie’s pride matters to him, but Richie thinks, just this once, that it’s okay to think that freedom matters more.

“You can stay with me,” Richie says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and maybe it is. Maybe it doesn’t matter that this is absolutely setting himself up for heartbreak, maybe it doesn’t matter that the only thing that sounds worse than forgetting Eddie again is remembering everything while Eddie never moves forward, because at the end of the day, Eddie needs help, and Richie can give it to him.

“Wh—are you sure?” Eddie asks, blinking at Richie. It says a lot, Richie thinks, that his first words aren’t a protest. Eddie hates being taken care of, has always looked suffocated when affection runs too close to the type of ‘protection’ his mother encaged him with, and Richie can’t tell if his clear want for what Richie’s offering is just out of sheer desperation to not go back to his old life, or if it’s because it’s Richie.

A small, traitorous voice in his head suggests maybe he remembers what happened, y’know, subconsciously, and Richie’s heart clenches. Shut up, he orders. He can’t get his hopes up. He can’t make this about him.

“Yeah, ‘course I am,” he says instead, giving Eddie as reassuring a grin as he can muster. “You’ll be doing me a favour, anyway—sometimes it’s a bit boring, just me and my cactus.”

“I’ll water him,” Eddie promises, breaking into a smile. It’s like how the sky looks when the sun comes out, transformed into warmth and golden light, and Richie’s heart lurches. He commits the expression to his memory, and manages a grin back.

-

“So,” Richie says to the doctor, “Eds said he wants to stay with me. But it occurs to me—is he even going to want to in a week, or whenever he checks out?”

The doctor, to his credit, doesn’t raise any eyebrows. In fact, he seems like he expected something like this—maybe if not Richie specifically, that Eddie would be going home with one of them, and not the woman on his health insurance plan. Richie tries not to think about that.

“It’s possible he could forget,” the doctor says finally, speaking with careful deliberation. “But… if it was a decision he came to by himself—if he agreed of his own choice—then I think he’ll remember, at least when suggested again.”

Richie tilts his head, and the doctor sighs. “It hasn’t made a difference how many times he forgets the day before—he still refuses to go home with Mrs Kaspbrak,” he explains. “I don’t think anything is changing in his feelings or long-term, subconscious memories. It’s the short-term details he’s forgetting.”

Richie nods, sits with it, and tries to decide if the feeling in his chest is hope or anxiety. Maybe both.

(When Eddie says yes again, bright smile full of relief, when it’s a week later and time to check him out, Richie feels something in his gut clench. He still doesn’t know if it’s hope or not, but he guesses he’s glad he ordered a spare bed just in case.)

When they settle in a few hours later, Eddie surveys the apartment with hands on his hips.

Richie waits, heart in his throat.

“I’ll water the cactus,” Eddie says after a moment, and Richie blinks. There’s something rising in his chest, something which feels like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds. He licks his lip and thinks: oh. This is what hope tastes like.

-

Most days, when Eddie wakes up, disoriented and confused because his last memories were of darkness and terror and the cistern, the doors, Richie, the doors, Richie soothes him by saying that they made it out, and Eddie just can’t remember because he hit his head, but he’s sure he’ll remember soon. Sometimes, it doesn’t even taste like a lie, acrid on his tongue.

Other days, when Eddie seems more panicked than usual, Richie tells him that they’d been in the hospital for a few days, but he’s okay now, they’re okay, Eddie, you’re okay, we’re okay, everything’s okay, we won—

Some days, Eddie seems to know they killed the clown as soon as he wakes up. Those days are simultaneously the best and the worst, because Eddie wakes up happy, and Richie has always known how to find peace etched into the curve of Eddie Kaspbrak’s smile—but Richie also knows that if he knows they killed the clown, it’s because part of him remembers what Richie’s told him every day, and all Richie can think is it’s not fair it’s not fair it’s not fucking fair because it’s not fair, it’s not fucking fair that no matter what memories bleed into Eddie’s subconscious, he never gets to remember everything. He never gets to remember Richie from that day, or from any of the days since.

-

(Richie leaves once. Twice. Three times.

“I can’t do it,” he says, breaking down in tears to Bev on the phone. “Bev, I swear to fucking god, I am trying, I am trying, but I can’t—every day he forgets me all over again, every day I have to remind him, and I just. He kissed me, and he can’t remember… he says he loves me when he’s sleep-talking and when he wakes up he thinks it’s June again, he thinks he’s married again, he thinks—”

It’s around that point in the conversation that he always cuts himself off with choked sobs, and the only thing he can hear is Bev’s murmured comforting noises.

He goes back, though. He always goes back. It’s hard and horrifying and it hurts more than he can bear, seeing Eddie every day and knowing he loves Richie back, knowing he loves Richie fiercely, but knowing that he can’t remember it. It breaks Richie’s heart every day. Sometimes he thinks it breaks his spirit too.

But every time he leaves, he comes back. Say what you want about Richie Tozier, but he always comes back.)

-

“Richie,” Eddie says quietly, “what’s the date?”

His voice is low, but there’s a thinly disguised tremor to it, and Richie blanches as his gaze tracks down to the envelopes Eddie’s holding. Usually, Richie gets to the mail first—to anything that could indicate more time has passed than Eddie could reasonably believe—but sometimes he doesn’t.

Richie looks at Eddie, at the panic clearly building behind his dark eyes, and thinks that these are the worst days.

Then he takes a deep breath, and prepares to explain.

-

“Richie,” Eddie says, and the desperation in his voice shatters Richie’s heart. He looks down at Eddie, and his breath hitches. Eddie’s always been beautiful to him, but he’s never seen this expression on his face before. Urgent and reckless and terrified and desperate, like he’s got something too big to hold in his chest, like he’s dying to get it out but terrified of what it might be.

“Yeah, Eds?” He tries to keep his voice steady. These nights are equally as painful as they are thrilling. Nights like these are the ones he gets to hear, see and feel how much Eddie loves him, but nights like these also have the promise of tomorrow morning hanging over him, when Eddie won’t remember what his own heart feels.

“I don’t want to forget,” Eddie confesses, and he’s crying, he’s crying, and it takes every inch of resolve and strength that Richie can muster not to burst into tears right then and there. It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair. It’s not fair that Eddie never gets to live his life, that even when he survives the clown, he doesn’t get to find out what it’s like to live on his own two feet; it’s not fair that Eddie has to relive the same fucking day over and over and over, that he can’t remember that they kissed in the cistern, that he has to think to himself every day that Richie might not love him back; and it’s not fair that Richie has to know it all but never be allowed to hold onto it, that Richie has to sit here and love Eddie endlessly because it’s built into his bones, even though it hurts so much that he can’t fucking stand it.

It’s not fair that he has hope running through his bloodstream and nothing he does can ever stamp it completely out.

“It’ll be okay,” Richie says, keeping his voice under control, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. Already he can see Eddie’s eyelids drooping, no matter how much he fights them; it’s been over twenty hours awake now, and after the injury, it’s just been harder and harder for Eddie to have long days. He knows it’s coming. He knows Eddie’s going to drift off soon, and forget everything. Forget him, at least in all the ways that really count.

He just has to keep smiling for a few more moments. Just enough for Eddie to fall asleep, so that he can dream of Richie smiling, so the last thing he sees is Richie telling him it’ll be okay. It’s like comforting someone who’s dying, Richie thinks, except Eddie’s not dead. He dies every day, though. He lives an entire life in a day and he never gets it back. If that’s not a type of death, what is?

Eddie finally drifts off, his breathing even, his head slumped against Richie’s chest.

Richie can’t help it. He lets the tears fall.

-

“Hey, Rich!” Eddie says excitedly. “Rich, we made it! We beat the clown!”

Richie shakes the sleep out of his eyes, breathes in deeply, and builds his armour up again.

“Yeah, Eds,” he says, his smile painted across his face. “We did.”

Rinse, repeat.

[ghostnebula]

I’ll gladly keep the asks coming 😘 Let’s have some Richie comforting hurt Eddie

I think I’m legitimately running out of ways to write this because it’s in almost every single fic I’ve written shjdshsdjkhf

I’m thinking college AU, therefore set somewhere in the 90s, but the Losers stick together through it. Which gives Eddie the opportunity to learn and grow as a person in some ways, but still -- old habits die hard, and old cycles of abuse die harder. In fact, sometimes they return with a vengeance :))))

(haha get it)

Anyway, what Eddie gets right is escaping Derry with his friends, owning his sexuality (albeit tentatively right now), and taking matters involving his health into his own hands. What he gets wrong is steering clear of people who remind him of his mother, but this isn’t entirely his fault, because the resemblances aren’t always obvious, and even then the association tends to be subconscious.

So when he meets this guy who he just can’t stop thinking about, and who dotes on him but in ways that are comforting in their familiarity but not glaringly obvious in their origins/associations, and he seems to... maybe even like Eddie that way, well, Eddie’s fucking gone for him. He doesn’t know why. He wants to be around him, is all. It’s like they’ve known each other forever. Incidentally, he has pretty much known Richie forever, and Richie dotes on him, too, but in ways that aren’t bordering on sinister, and Richie’s head over heels for him, but Eddie’s so accustomed to that kind of stuff that he wouldn’t realize Richie was in love with him if it slapped him across the face. He also doesn’t seem to realize half the reason he’s even chasing after this guy is because he’s trying to get over his feelings for Richie, or at least just find a different outlet for them, because “obviously” it’s never going to happen.

He’s less than a week from risking it all and just asking this dude from his program out on a date when this guy (let’s call him idk Curtis or smth) asks Eddie out, and Eddie’s fucking elated. He’s on cloud nine. He has a fucking boyfriend. “A boyfriend, Bill, can you believe that? Someone who actually wants to date me!” (Poor Bill’s ready to fucking explode, he’s just nodding along like, holy fuck oh my god how are you this oblivious oh my god I can picture another person who’d saw off their arm to date you pretty fucking easily to be honest.

Things with Curtis are fantastic for the first couple months, and then once -- about 3 months in -- Eddie has this weird fleeting thought that Curtis... kind of reminds him of his mother, sometimes. Funny, huh? Maybe it’s just that he’s so insistent on doing everything for Eddie, which is just him being a gentleman, obviously. Then there’s that time Curtis cries for a fifteen minute car ride because Eddie chose to spend the afternoon studying in the library with his friends instead of with him, and he was so lonely, and “You don’t hate me, do you? It makes me feel like you hate me when you put me on the back burner.” And, of course, Curtis asks him to move in with him, in his apartment just off campus, which means he’s not rooming with Richie anymore. It feels weird and almost awful the first few nights, but he gets over it because Curtis would be offended if he thought Eddie might like Richie (or any of his friends) more than he likes his own boyfriend.

By the time they’ve been dating for a year, Eddie’s lucky to see the Losers more than once a month outside of classes or grabbing a quick meal on campus, but he’s always so grateful when Curtis lets him spend time with them. And Curtis is (usually) so nice, and he’s always taking care of Eddie, and Eddie doesn’t even need to have a job anymore because Curtis pays for everything, anyway, and insists on never letting Eddie spend a cent, which is just so nice, right? Isn’t that lovely of him? In fact, Eddie doesn’t even need to be bothered with money at all, because Curtis handles it all. 

Bev tries to tell him, while they’re waiting in line for coffee before class one morning, that she doesn’t like the way Curtis treats him, and Eddie snaps at her. He doesn’t know where it came from, or why he felt the need to be so defensive, and after he storms off he feels so terrible about the whole thing he doesn’t know what to do. He tells Curtis first thing when he sees him that afternoon, because there’s guilt weighing in his chest about it, and Curtis spends the whole evening pampering him and telling him how much he loves him and how one day, if ever it’s possible, he’s going to marry him. “Don’t you see what they’re doing, Eddie? They’re trying to sabotage our relationship. They think we’re disgusting. They think we’re sinners. They won’t say it out loud, but they’re going to try to ruin us because they can’t stand what we have. You just have to ignore them, okay? Don’t let them ruin this for us.” Of course Eddie believes him. That makes sense. Of course it does. He must be stupid for not realizing that earlier.

But as with all things doomed from the start, there’s a breaking point, and it’s the day Curtis has the gall to actually hurt Eddie. Not in a little way, like he sometimes does when they argue, or how he’s been pushing him to eat less and less because he’s “put on some weight,” or the way he’s been carefully manufacturing comments and insults to keep him down, keep him doubting himself, which in the end is just as bad as any physical hurt, isn’t it?

Eddie’s late coming home from school because he ran into Mike outside the library and they sat down to chat, and he lost track of the time, and there’s a cold feeling in his gut when he gets home and Curtis doesn’t look up from the television as he asks, “Where have you been? Your class ended over an hour ago.”

And Eddie knows, he knows they’re trying to sabotage his relationship, Curtis told him so, but part of him just doesn’t want to believe that, and Mike seemed so sincere. He never once made any kind of negative comment about Eddie’s love life. The most he’d done was ask how Curtis was faring. That was as much as it was even mentioned. So he tells the truth, and Curtis still isn’t looking at him in the few moments of quiet that stretch between them, or when he says, “Come here.”

Eddie obeys. He always does, after all. Curtis grabs his arm too hard and it hurts but he bites his lip because he should have known better, after all, and he’s stupid, and that was stupid of him, and what if Mike is just out to get them? 

“Do you want to fuck this up? Do you want them to take you away from me?” he demands, face contorted by his anger, and Eddie shakes his head. He can feel tears burning at his eyes but he fights them because Curtis told him he’s a crybaby and no one likes a crybaby -- he doesn’t want to make him more angry. 

“No,” he tries to insist. “I just--” But he doesn’t get a chance to finish because Curtis’s free hand connects with his cheek hard enough to snap his head to the side, and the tears overflow even though he really really doesn’t want them to, as he stands there, stunned, mouth agape, cheek stinging. “What the fuck?” he’s demanding, and Curtis is yanking on his arm to drag him closer, holding so tight he’s almost worried the bones might snap.

“Sometimes I think you don’t love me at all, you know that? Sometimes I think you’re just fucking mooching, and you don’t give a shit if I feel valued or not.”

Eddie would normally defend himself. Tell Curtis that isn’t true, that he does love him, that he shows him that every day, to the best of his ability. That he’s given himself over to him completely, and isn’t that proof enough that he loves him? Except right now, he can’t remember exactly what it is that he “loves” about this man.

The arm Curtis isn’t crushing in his grip reels back and Eddie smashes his fist into Curtis’s nose and he knows, in that moment, there’s no salvaging any of this, and wonders how he ever even cared. In his shock and pain, Curtis lets go of him, and Eddie doesn’t hesitate to get the fuck out of there.

He’s definitely crying when he shows up outside Stan and Richie’s dorm, and he’s trying to stop it because he doesn’t want them to be mad when they see him (because he’s an annoying fucking crybaby, isn’t that right?) but he’s knocking before he’s able to compose himself because he can’t fucking compose himself. He’s shaking and he ruined it but, really, isn’t that for the best? When was the last time he was truly happy with Curtis? The shaking won’t stop anyway, and he can feel anxiety building in his gut, making his stomach twist, because he has nothing now. He’s just gone and completely fucked himself over, and the rest of the Losers, well... they probably barely consider him a friend anymore, or if anything they probably think he’s a shit one, and this was a bad idea. Yeah, this was definitely a bad idea, because he’s imagining Stan sneering down at him and demanding to know why the fuck he thought they’d help him when he hasn’t been bothered with them in months, or Richie scoffing and telling him maybe if he wanted help so bad he could go ask his boyfriend, and--

The door swings open and Stan’s eyes go wide, and Eddie can’t get the words out, and he knows he isn’t having an asthma attack but this feels like an asthma attack. “Richie!” Stan is calling, but Richie’s already leaping up from his bed because he caught sight of Eddie through the gap in the door, and besides, he’d know that wheezing anywhere. Stan barely moves out of the way in time to avoid being bowled over. Richie freezes, though, halfway to grabbing Eddie to drag him into a hug, not sure that he’s alright with that (didn’t he always used to be?) and not sure what the fuck is wrong, but there’s a red mark on his cheek that’s pretty telling, anyway.

Eddie’s the one who surges forward first and wraps Richie up in a hug, because he needs it, and because Richie looks stricken, and Eddie knows somewhere deep down that Richie would never hate him. He’s always known Richie could never hate him. He has to repeat it to himself, like a mantra, as Richie awkwardly tries to shuffle back into the room with Eddie latched around his waist, but Eddie’s scared to let go. “Please don’t be mad,” he says, not quite meeting Richie’s eyes.

Everything he’s done in the last year has been so fucking stupid and he’s a fucking idiot and he’s well aware of that, so everyone else must be, too. So he excuses his behaviour with, “I just thought he loved me.” Maybe, in some way, Curtis does love him, but not the way that Eddie wants or needs to be loved, and he just wasn’t smart enough to see it before. He can barely wrap his mind around it now. But his cheek is throbbing where Curtis landed a pretty fucking solid blow, and his arm aches with the beginnings of a bruise, and he’s tired and hungry and miserable and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt less loved.

Richie, though -- Richie helps. Richie makes him feel better just by being here. By not letting go of him as they settle onto the bed, lying on their sides. Probably because he can tell how much Eddie can’t stand the idea of letting go right now. Stan brings them ice wrapped in a cloth from the kitchens and Richie holds it to his cheek for him and wipes the tears away and Eddie apologizes, over and over, until Richie tells him to stop. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, Eds. Okay? You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.”

Stan whispers something to Richie as he’s pulling on his shoes, and Richie nods, eyes flickering up to look at him, but then he’s looking at Eddie again as the door clicks shut behind Stan. 

“I’m just glad you came here. I really am. You know we’ve got your back, right? Whatever you need. We’re here for you.” Richie’s gone all soft, eyes shining, his hand resting on Eddie’s cheek even though he isn’t trying to dry his tears anymore. His glasses sit at an angle on his face, one side pressed to the pillow, and it would probably be funny if Eddie weren’t so goddamn miserable right now.

“I gave him everything,” he says, through the thick feeling of tears blocking his throat. “I... I just thought he loved me.”

(That softness in Richie disappears for a second -- so brief Eddie’s immediately wondering if he might have imagined it -- to be replaced by something hot and fierce and pissed, like he could burn cities to the ground if so inclined, and inclined he is.)

A tear finally slips out of Richie’s eye and runs sideways down his face to soak into the pillow. “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry. We’re here for you. We love you, you know that, right?”

He should. He can’t believe he’d ever doubted it, but something (Curtis) had him doubting. It’s hard to believe Richie doesn’t love him when they’re lying here like this, and harder to believe he ever thought Richie might turn him away. And as for the other Losers... well, he can only hope they’ll forgive him, in time.

He doesn’t answer because he isn’t sure how to explain that, but he’s sure that he fucked up, in some capacity, and that the love the Losers have for him isn’t completely unconditional. Right? Or is that something Curtis wants him to believe? He bites down on his lip so hard it bleeds but he starts crying all over again, anyway.

The door slams open and Bill is there, Stan behind him with Mike in tow. They file inside just as Bev and Ben come thundering up the corridor behind them, and then the mattress is shifting and dipping as several more bodies pile on around them, and somewhere he hears Stan snap at Bill to, “Take your damn shoes off, you animal,” and Richie, close above him, retorts, “Who the fuck cares? I wear my shoes in bed all the time.”

“Animals,” Stan repeats, climbing over them to sit against the headboard and pull Eddie’s head into his lap. He takes the melting ice from Richie to hold against Eddie’s cheek, which is still swelling despite their best efforts. 

“Sorry,” Eddie says, when Stan tsks and shakes his head after examining it for a second, and several voices at once are telling him, “You have nothing to apologize for,” and “We love you,” and Richie smiles at him, albeit tremulously, before pressing a kiss to his forehead. Eddie hides his face in his hands because he can’t stop fucking crying but now it’s because he’s so fucking happy. Happy to be back with his friends and to know beyond any doubt that they do love him and it is unconditional and he might just be okay, after all.

[montagnarde1793]

Ribbons of Scarlet: A predictably terrible novel on the French Revolution (part 2)

In case you were wondering, that’s not actually the novel’s subtitle, which is really “A Novel of the French Revolution’s Women.” But like, only the famous ones. Ok, I’m done. Moving on...

Parts 1, 3, 4 and 5.

Structural Issues

 While the choice of characters was a red flag for me (and not in a good way), choosing to structure the book the way they did was a mistake.

 This is true for a number of reasons. (I’m sorry, btw, for all the comparisons to Marge Piercy’s novel, but the shared conceit kind of made it inevitable.) Piercy’s characters also only got an average of 80 pages each (though as the typeset was denser, they arguably had a little bit more space), but since the POVs were interspersed, they played off each other much more naturally and allowed the characters the time to develop. Even there it could feel underdeveloped, but here it seems like they’re rushing the undeserved character development so they have some kind of complete arc for each character before the next part starts.

Some chapters are clumsier at this than others. The absolute worst is Pauline Léon’s, which is unsurprising for a number of reasons, but notably because she has the fewest pages of anyone except Charlotte Corday, who doesn’t really get an arc: she shows up in the plot already wanting to assassinate Marat; she succeeds; she doesn’t regret her decision; she’s tried and executed. That’s it.

 This choice also means that the main strength of this type of anthology goes largely untapped: namely, that we get different POVs on the same events. Since each protagonist is associated with a different period in time, we can only ever get their point of view on previous events through awkward flashbacks.

 It probably also accounts for one of the worst, most artificial and amateurish aspects of the book: the way in any given section the other six point of view characters are shoehorned into the narrative, whether it makes any sense or not. The protagonists of the different sections have to have some (highly improbable) relationship with one another or be reflecting on each other’s lives in the most ham-fisted, author-soapbox way possible. We’ll circle back to that last part in a bit.

 Possibly the most ludicrous example of this is Manon Roland’s inexplicable decision to take a random trip to Caen in mid to late August 1792 just so the author can have her run into Charlotte Corday. Like, do I even need to explain how little sense this makes? Apparently so. Look, first of all, going from Paris to Caen was not a trivial trip in the 18th century. Today you could make a day-trip of it and not be missed. It’s about 2 hours each way in the TGV. But in the 18th century, you’re looking at more like 2 days each way, minimum. Not the sort of trip you tend to make without an ostensible reason. Does Manon Roland have one, even as written? No, she does not. She’s going to Caen to flee the temptation of François Buzot’s advances. Which, ok, internal motivation for leaving Paris, but they don’t bother to give her a pretext. How is she going to explain to her husband her random absence of at least 4 days (not to mention the expense)? And why Caen (other than the external reason of the author’s wanting her to come across Corday)? She has no connections there. Does the author even know that the main person Manon Roland knows from the region is Buzot and that it’s therefore the last place she should flee to stop thinking about him? And she’s supposed to be a savvy politician: does she not care about the optics, as the interim Minister of the Interior’s wife, of fleeing in the opposite direction as the Austro-Prussian troops are advancing on Paris?

 And I know what you’re thinking: I’m overthinking this. This wasn’t a book designed for specialists. But I think a reader can tell when a world they’re reading about doesn’t feel fully fleshed-out. In that sense, it’s less about accuracy than it is about how flat and artificial a reading experience it makes for. One of the most valuable things I was taught in school was that when making a presentation, you should always know more than you intend to say. I think the same goes for fiction: you should know more about the setting and the characters than appears on the page. In this book I consistently have the impression that the authors know less.

 Moreover, the authors claim to have been striving for maximum consolidation of characters in order to reduce confusion, but it ends up coming across as both artificial and condescending. Trust your readers to be smart enough to work through their confusion. Otherwise you make it feel like there were a total of about 20 people in Paris during the Revolution, which, again, makes the setting feel completely artificial.

 While I’m not sure anything but better research and writing could have salvaged it, this book would have already been 1000% better if the characters met or thought about each other only when it would actually make sense for them to do so and the narratives were interwoven.

  The Authors are Desperate to Make Sure You Feel the Way They Want You to about Key Figures. They Also Think You’re Stupid

 Don’t get me wrong. I’m not accusing them of supposing their readers to be ignorant about the French Revolution. You should always assume your reader to be ignorant of what you’re going to tell them. Ignorant, but intelligent. That’s the key. The problem is that the authors don’t trust their audience.

 So we also get characters doing things like giving you a who’s who of the most famous (and only the most famous) authors, artists and activists of the time whether it makes sense for them to do so or not, like this is a textbook and we’ve got to make sure the reader is informed of the existence of all these figures (or maybe give them the chance to pat themselves on the back if they’ve already heard of some of them).

 Or my least favorite French Revolution trope: having Robespierre ominously show up in 1789 to start plotting the “Terror” (here they have him spouting the apocryphal* quote “pity is treason” to an audience of Sophie de Grouchy, Condorcet and the Sainte-Amaranthe family sometime in May or June 1789) (p. 89).

 *Presumably, it’s a corruption of declarations such as the one in his 5 November 1789 response to Louvet’s denunciation that “La sensibilité qui gémit presque exclusivement pour les ennemis de la liberté m’est suspecte.” (“I find the sensitivity that groans almost exclusively for the enemies of liberty suspect.��) or the one in his second speech on the judgment of Louis XVI of 28 December 1792: “la sensibilité qui sacrifie l’innocence au crime est une sensibilité cruelle ; la clémence qui compose avec la tyrannie est barbare” (“sensitivity that sacrifices innocence to crime is a cruel sensivity; clemency that compromises with tyranny is barbaric”).

 Again, we see the same need for oversimplification. Robespierre is, as one of the authors’ notes puts it, one of the “dangerous men” (back matter, p. 18) that should have been prevented from ever having power so he’s not allowed to ever do or say anything sympathetic. (And yeah, I know, death of the author and all that, I shouldn’t count the authors’ notes, but they really only serve as explicit confirmation of what could be pretty transparently inferred from the text and this way no one can accuse me of reading things into it that aren’t there.)

Because of this, even real quotes are cited out of context to the same end: when Robespierre says “pity is treason” in 1789, Condorcet says his bit from the Chronique de Paris article from April 1792 to his wife — you know the one, about Robespierre’s being admired by women because he’s basically a cult leader (p. 90). There’s no reason to think Condorcet had any particular enmity toward Robespierre (or even that Robespierre would have been on his radar) just after the opening of the Estates-General, though certainly, contrary to what is portrayed here, Condorcet was not a democrat in 1789 and Robespierre was. But again, historical figures we’re not supposed to like must be set up early and often as stock villains — otherwise you run the risk of your readers thinking for themselves, I guess. Also the Chronique de Paris quote (which is from an unsigned article generally attributed to Condorcet) is pretty damn misogynistic, which given the book’s stated main theme, you would think would be addressed in some way, but nope!

 Conversely, figures the authors like are liked by the characters — or they are at least forced to begrudgingly recognize their merit — whether it makes sense or not. One of the things Manon Roland is made to number among the things going “wrong” in August 1792 is “the hero Lafayette[’s being] forced into exile” (p. 261) and while it is the author of a different section who is a self-proclaimed La Fayette stan (thanks to Hamilton, of all things…) I think it’s fair to say from his portrayal in all the sections that we’re meant to admire him. But here’s the thing. I don’t really care what you think about La Fayette. That’s not the question. To Manon Roland in August 1792, La Fayette was a traitor who attempted to march his army against the Legislative Assembly and all her friends and allies in said Assembly voted to indict him. If you’re writing from her point of view, it should reflect that.

 Likewise, they have Pauline Léon describe Olympe de Gouges like this in July of 1793: “A defender of women, of slaves, I wish I could have admired her, but having aligned herself to my enemies, I could look at her no other way.” (p. 353). Olympe de Gouges is far better known now than she ever was in her lifetime, so making sure every character has an opinion on her is, once again, pretty artificial, but even assuming Pauline Léon had heard of her, Olympe de Gouges’s brand of feminism was an elitist one that excluded women like Pauline Léon and her abolitionism went out the window when the slaves actually started to rise up, so Pauline Léon actually would have had reason to dislike her beyond the logic of ‘you’re with me or you’re my enemy’ (there is a quote where she’s made to think precisely that, but I can’t seem to find it now — or maybe it was Reine Audu; they’re characterized pretty similarly in that respect). Likewise, Pauline Léon is made to disapprove of Condorcet or the Rolands because they don’t “[get] things done,” not because of any actual ideological disagreement (p. 349).

Probably the worst bit of condescension comes once again from Manon Roland’s section, where she tells a fellow spectator in the gallery of the Convention, “‘Don’t bother trying to tell the different assemblies and conventions apart,’” which is pretty transparently just the authors directly talking (down) to the reader rather than a conversation people who were living through events (and invested enough to be attending the Convention) would plausibly have had.

If it sounds like I’m being particularly harsh on the Manon Roland section, btw, I actually think it’s one of the less poorly done, at least in terms of rendering an historical figure’s mentality, most likely because unlike for some of the other figures, we have her memoirs and correspondence. It helps that the figures she’s supposed to hate line up with the figures the authors want us to hate as well. She saw herself as a reasonable republican and her Montagnard enemies as demagogues and that’s also clearly the authors’ assessment of the situation, so there’s less of the strange cognitive dissonance you get in some of the other chapters where even what is supposedly characters’ own POV frames them as wrong.

Stay tuned for style issues and reflections on what it means to “write what you want to know”!

[fifteenskies15]

Twisted Kaguya Hime

(Tokito Muichiro x Demon! Reader)

Summary: Demons and humans never belong together, so does demon slayer and their enemy

Admin's Note: Wow, clearly I'm on roll today, I published two stories in one day, anyways, I have come back with Muichiro's content to feed to you all Muichiro stans, this might be kinda angst since reader will be a demon unde Kokushibo control but they manage to develop a feelings for Muichiro, but let's pretend that Koku had met Mui and that Muichiro have grown up now (approximately 18-20 y/o) here, as per usual, this story is gender neutral

Also, Muichiro might be a bit lovestruck here

"Muichiro...let me tell you a little story..."

"What is it mom?"

"This is a tale of a beautiful princess called, princess Kaguya... Once upon a time... There was an old and poor bamboo cutter called Taketori no Okina, he and his wife didn't have a child and they live in poverty..."

"One day, the old man Taketori found a shining bamboo stalk he cutted it and do you know what he saw? It's a baby girl in size of his thumb, old man Taketori was so elated, he and his wife raised her like she was their daughter and not only that, there's a small gold nugget inside, so... Taketori and his wife is no longer live in poverty, and their daughter, Kaguya has grown up into a woman with an extraordinary beauty..."

"This is the part where Kaguya get her lover, right mom?"

"Many hopeful youngsters did wanted to take Kaguya as their wife, but alas she rejected them all, even with five princes lined up to offer her hand of marriage, she rejected them all regardless, the emperor Mikado is also fell in love with the beautiful princess Kaguya, but alas she's also rejected him, saying that she cannot stay in the palace, but they stay in contact together"

"But do you know, Muichiro? Every summer night when it's full moon, Princess Kaguya is always crying, her adoptive parents were greatly concerned about her, but she was unable to say what's wrong to them, until she revealed that she was not of this world and must return to her people on the Moon..."

"So that means she had to left her parents?"

"Sadly yes... Kaguya hime loves her parents and her friends in earthly being friends, she was very sad but this has to be done...the Earth is not where she belongs, however, the capital of the moon is where she belongs..."

"Even so... Kaguya always missed the protectorate and the kind humans that see her of who she is..."

------

"Muichiro..."

...

"Muichiro..."

...

"Muichiro, my dear...are you okay?"

Muichiro tear his gaze away from the moon and turn his attention to you.

A demon...

But you're more than just a demon to him and he's more than just a human to you, even though you're a demon, a being he should be hated, obliterated and sent to hell, you manage to develop a feeling towards him

...Somehow...

Somehow he manage to grow something inside you, inside your soulless and supposed to be numb body

It's none other than love...

It's been quite a while since you feel something like this, or maybe because it's the first time you feel this, all emotions you could ever remember is sadness and rage especially what your family had done to you back then...

"Fufu... You have been gazing upon the full moon, is everything okay?"

Muichiro just give you a smile "Ah, just remembered the tale my mom used to tell when I was a kid..."

"Enlighten me..."

Muichiro rest his chin on his hand, smiling at you "The tale of Princess Kaguya"

A warm smile spread on your face "Ah, I have heard that story from an old couple I met once, it's sad that Princess Kaguya had to go back to the moon to join her people..."

Muichiro nodded, looking wistful "If she's real, I wonder what she's thinking about the humanity now..."

You didn't care much about humans (except for him, of course) but you know exactly what he meant "I don't mean to be presumptuous, but she could be weeping at how humanity change in a terrible way..."

Muichiro nodded and sighed "either it demons and people the Earth is not the same as she remembered, it's quite sad when you think about it..."

"Mmh... My so called parents are one of those people," you said laying down on the grass while looking at the moon "Poor Kaguya had to face the reality of how this world is soiled"

Muichiro lay down next to you, his mint colored eyes find your (E/C) ones "Say (name) if you are Princess Kaguya and I'm the lucky man who manage to have you as my wife/husband, but you're still had to go to the moon what will you say or do?"

You looked at him with a smile and looked at the moon "even if the heavenly beings told me to stay with them, I will not listen to them, that's probably sounds bold and too forward, but what can I say?" You grabbed his hand as your fingers intertwined.

"I'm head over heels for you, and if I'm being forced to go to the moon, I will make my way just to see you even if it means I had to rope the Earth closer to the moon"

Muichiro smiled warmly at you as he gripped your hand tighter "I would too... I know you're a demon but I can't help but having strong feelings towards you..."

He sighed and looked at the moon again "It as if it was yesterday I almost killed you, I mean, well, you did almost slaughter entire village, I don't even know what came into me and... Well... Here we are, being closer and didn't care about who we are..." He said, his face illuminated by the moon.

"If...if there is a chance you could become a human again...(Name)...will you..."

Muichiro stopped, he seems unsure about continuing his word and this is so not like him, is he...being nervous? Agitated even?

"Will I... what, Muichiro?"

He took a deep breath, he sat up then look at you, directly into your eyes "I know it's been a half of year since we met but... I have been thinking... I don't want to lose you just yet, so...will you marry me?"

You widen your eyes, and you have strange feeling inside your chest...

Was it your heart beating?

...How?

How is it possible?

But you couldn't help it and you smiled...

"Muichiro..."

"Well, isn't that sickeningly sweet?"

All too familiar voice cutted you before you could say yes, and to see upper moon one.

Your creator, Kokushibo.

"Kokushibo-sama!" Your body went autopilot and bowed at him, Muichiro just froze, but it's obvious his eyes are gleaming with rage

"Now it's clear why you have been disappearing lately" his eyes looked at Muichiro who looked like he's veins about to pop, Muichiro gritted his teeth as he saw an upper moon in front of his eyes "You have been doing some disgusting thing with my descendant, I see... That behavior is clearly not something to be forgiven"

Kokushibo slowly unsheathed his sword and glaring down at you "You're awfully aware that his Lordship is not pleased with your tomfoolery, (name)..."

You gulped and freeze in fear, you have once got the taste of a punishment from your Creator and you can't imagine when his master knows about what have you been doing behind his back, before you know it, his grotesque looking sword were swung towards your head and to be blocked by Muichiro.

"Like hell I would let you touch her/him, I don't care if you're an upper moon, but if you touch her/him, I won't hesitate to fight you here and now..."

"M-Muichiro..."

Kokushibo looked at his descendant in amusement, he manage to parry his attack, causing Muichiro backed away from the impact.

"How valiant, you think you have what it takes to defeat me?"

Muichiro disregard him and looked at you "(name), are you alright, my dear?" You just nod, a warm tears trickle down from your (E/C) eyes, Kokushibo just clicked his tongue and hit Muichiro's pulse point

"Muichiro!!"

He nonchalantly stepped over him and grabbed you by your collar, as he glared at you

"(Name), I'm sure you're aware that this place is not for you and no longer your home, and on the note, humans and demons doesn't belong together..." He said as he glowered at you, you swore you could hear venom dripping from his words "...and whether you like it or not, you don't belong to him" Kokushibo said pointing at the unconscious Muichiro, and pointed his sword on his chest.

"Even though he's my descendant, my kin, he's the enemy of his Lordship, I won't hesitate to kill him right in the spot" he pressed the tip of his sword as if he was going to pierce his sword through Muichiro's beating heart.

"I'm still merciful enough because I like you (name), it's your choice... Come with me and I'll let him live... For now...or..." He pressed his blade slightly harder that blood sapping out, slowly tainted his uniform "No, no, no!! Don't kill him, please!! I will come with you, but please spare him, Kokushibo-sama!"

Kokushibo looked at you then put his sword back to his sheath, walking towards you with a smile, it's rather mocking... "It wasn't so hard now wasn't it?" He said as he put his hand on your cheek

"And I am a man of my word, I won't kill him, at least for now, and you..." He paused for a bit "...you will stay with me till that day comes" he turn his heel and looked at the sky, "The moon is beautiful, but as beautiful as it is, in few hours the moon will sink and the sun will rise, we better go unless you wanted a worse death than being killed by his Lordship"

Honestly you would rather die because of the sunshine than come with him (despite the fact he's your creator) but if it means he kept Muichiro stay alive...

Then you had no choice

You looked back at Muichiro's unconscious form and teared up slightly, and dropped something in purpose as you followed Kokushibo to fortress of infinity...

"I'm sorry, Muichiro..."

----

Few hours pass, Muichiro came back to his senses, he jolted awake and looked around "(Name)?! (name)!! Where are you?!" He winced when he felt sting on his chest.

"That bastard..."

He looked around for you and to see something gleaming under the moonlight

It's your amulet necklace...

He took it and looked at it, it has (F/F), hollyhock and ginko leaves symbol on it, he remembered the day you showed it to him

"See this amulet, Muichiro? I made it myself, I added the ginko leaves because for some reason it reminded me of you..."

"Oh really? And I could guess that (F/F) is your favorite flower... Is that supposed to be the symbol of our unification?"

"Maybe? Okay, yeah, maybe it is..."

Somehow he could feel sadness radiating off the inanimate object he's currently holding.

He knows...

He knows that you won't see each other from now on.

"(Name), my love..."

A single tear fell on the amulet as he gripped on it, sadness replaced with rage as he gaze upon the imposing, full moon

"Just like princess Kaguya, you left me to be somewhere you belong to..."

He looked at the amulet as he remembered that tonight is the last night he see you

"Just like princess Kaguya, someone take me away from you just like how they separate her from the emperor..."

He put the amulet around his neck and gripped his sword

"Of all the things had happened, I will twist the tale, just you wait, my dear..."

His once full of life mint eyes turn back into his lifeless one but it gleamed with desire and vengeance

"I will came to you, and make sure you fall into my arms once again..."

----

Admin 15: Oh damn, Mui is a lovestruck yandere in the end,....and I kinda live for it, maybe I should make something with yandere trope for my next story, hehe

Anyways, I'm so sorry that this story make no sense, I might be on roll but I guess I'm being overexcited about it

[jbuffyangel]

Strength: Arrow 8x05 Review (Prochnost)

We’re headed back to Russia for some Queen family vacation fun, except their version of “fun” is kidnappings and fight clubs.

Let’s dig in…

Oliver, Mia and William

Do you remember how we used to pray for a scene of Oliver teaching Felicity the bow and arrow? 

The scenes with Helena fueled my hate fire for years. The closest we ever came to Olicity “training” was Oliver offering Felicity a few punching pointers

and the glorious salmon-ladder-leads-to-sex scene.

I’m not complaining! All I’m saying is we could’ve had a bow-and-arrow-training-leads-to-sex scene too. I have several insert-scenario-here-leads-to-sex scene ideas this show has yet to explore.

Anyway, if we can’t have Felicity training with Oliver then second best is their daughter training with Oliver. The intro to “Prochnost” is almost three minutes long and it’s pure fan fiction from start to finish.  

Source: felicitysmoakgifs 

Oliver teaches Mia how to tennis ball and uses cooking as analogy before he remembers she’s 50% Smoak.

It is clear Mia still has a lot to learn not only from a vigilante perspective, but also in terms of her archer skills.  

When we met Oliver Queen in the pilot his skill set was perfected. He was a fully formed bad ass. 

We haven’t seen Mia train other than a montage with Nyssa Al Ghul in 7x16 and I am thoroughly enjoying there’s still a lot she can learn from her father.

Source: 1-crazy-dreamer

Oliver reviews all of his trick arrows with Mia, but doesn’t want them to become a crutch. 

Source: lucyyh 

What he doesn’t say is trick arrows became more of a necessity in disabling criminals after killing them was no longer an option. We’ve come a long way with Oliver Queen. If you had told me father/daughter training sessions were in our future when I watched the pilot then I would’ve laughed you out of the room because that’s a special brand of CRAZY.

Of course, a training scene without the stick thingies wouldn’t be a training scene on Arrow. 

Source: miasmoakdaily

Yes, I know there’s a technical term for the stick thingies, but if I haven’t learned it by now do you think I ever will? No is the right answer.

Oliver: Nyssa taught you well.

Mia: Mom made sure of it.

I think Arrow makes an important point during this scene. Nyssa Al Ghul is good, but she’s no Oliver Queen. There’s been many seasons where it feels like the writers down played Oliver’s skills to give the other team members something to do *cough*L*urelLance*cough*. 

However, the writers seem particularly focused on showing how Oliver’s skills are a whole other level now. Remember, he’s the guy who killed Ra’s Al Ghul – probably the greatest fighter of all time. It’s why Riccardo Diaz being a formidable threat was so laughable. When Felicity reached out to Nyssa she was asking the best for help, but there truly is no substitute for Oliver Queen.

Source: miasmoakdaily 

Mia “The Machine” Smoak-Queen (her official title btw) doesn’t need a break, but I love how Oliver worries about her nonetheless. DADDY OLIVER IS SO SOFT.

Source: amunetblack

Mia gently reins in William’s ramble and this is the brother/sister banter I am here for. Look, I know we’ve clocked a season and a half with these kids and I should be used to moments where they remind me of Oliver and Felicity, BUT I CAN’T GET USED TO IT. It still fills me with absolute glee anytime it happens.

Children are individuals with unique personalities, but one of the more fun aspects of parenting is seeing traits of other family members, or maybe even yourself, emerge in the child you’re raising. I feel the same glee when my daughter reminds me of my husband or mother. And since William and Mia are my fictional TV children why should I be any different?

There’s a Curtis reference in this scene, so naturally I doze off when that happens, but the cliff notes version is the energy wave that destroyed Earth 2 can be recreated. There’s a Russian general trying to replicate it via pulse wave generator weapon and Team Arrow needs to get the plans.

I think. Plus they need plutonium which Diggle volunteers to get.

Oliver invites the kids to Russia with him and they are equally as shocked as I am. 

Really? We’re going to Russia? I mean, I know we’re going to Russia, but Oliver’s casual invitation makes this trip sound like the equivalent of a grocery store run. The kids are so excited to be invited they think they’re going to Disney World with Dad.

This is so not going to be Disney World. TELL THEM THIS IS NOT GOING TO BE DISNEY WORLD OLIVER.

Oliver: I’m a better man. Different man. I think I can teach them the good without showing them the bad.

Oliver thinks this is going to be Disney World. 

Diggle accurately points out visiting the place which was home to the darkest point of his life may not be as simple as Oliver would like it to be. His answer is equally wonderful and sooooo WRONG. It’s WONDERFUL Oliver believes he’s a better man. It took us 8 long years to get here and his statement is no small thing. Round of applause for our boy.

Unfortunately, this is where the wonderful ends. Oliver is determined to only show his children the good. I guess it sounds ok when he says it, but upon closer examination it misses the forest through the trees. Everything that happened to Oliver Queen, good and bad, has formed the person he is. He cannot extricate the bad from this story anymore than he can the good. They are a sticky wicket forever entwined together. Take out one and you don’t get the full picture. And what his children need and deserve is the full picture.

That’s not to say Oliver’s filter is entirely wrong. There are certainly topics and information children are not ready to hear, can’t understand, or wouldn’t be appropriate to tell them. Every parent has some kind of filter when raising their children because that’s what good parenting requires.

This is appropriate when children are small. As your child grows into an adult then your relationship with them must become more adult, which requires more transparency. This is the problem between Oliver and his children. He is parenting like William and Mia are still little. And they are not.

If plans for a pulse generator sound like a flimsy excuse to go to Russia then you’d be right. The real reason we’re going to Russia isn’t because of some rando general. It’s to say goodbye to one of Arrow’s greatest supporting characters - Anatoly Knyazev

“My brother.”

I block out most of Season 6 because half of it was a walking horror show, so I don’t remember where Oliver and Anatoly left things after he joined and then betrayed Team Bad Guy. 

I guess their cool now? I don’t really want to spend all kinds of time on Oliver and Anatoly hashing out their issues, so if a hug gets the job done then I’m good. Also William speaks Russian. Queen men speaking foreign languages is hot.

A+ reaction Steve. 

Source: arrowdaily 

Anatoly was bored in the Maldives, now owns a bar and has a delicious pina colada recipe so that pretty much catches us up on him. He offers to help find Burov, but Oliver doesn’t want Anatoly’s “friends” involved because they are Bratva and he’s not discussing the bad parts of Russia with his children. I think the good parts of Russia ended at pina colada, Oliver. See how this is going to be a problem?

The best place to meet up with Burov is a local fight club. This prompts William to share where he met his baby sister and gives us Oliver’s best dad reaction to date. 

Source: 1-crazy-dreamer 

Bless you William. You do God’s work my boy.

Mia: Why did you bring us on this mission if you aren’t going to let us help?

Oliver: This is the Bratva. They are terrible people and you guys are my kids.

Mia: Yes, but we’re not children.

Oliver: Well you are when I look at you.

Aww… my sweet, lovable, wonderful Oliver. 

Do we ever stop looking at our children as children? Probably not. I know I will always be my parents’ baby girl and my daughter will always be mine. It is difficult to fully accept a human being as an adult when you’ve changed their diapers. And in Oliver’s defense he changed Mia’s diaper about five minutes ago in the present timeline, regardless of the future adults standing before him. We must give him some time to… adjust.

But Mia is Mia and doesn’t listen to anyone, other than William (SOUND FAMILIAR?) and he’s firmly on her team this week, so they go to the fight club and watch Dad in action. Mia has heard the stories of her father all her life but seeing him in action is an eye-opening experience. She is difficult to impress, but her dad is AWESOME. Yeah, we think so too honey. Welcome to stanning Oliver Queen.

Source: olivergifs

Unfortunately, the Bratva aren’t cool with the deal Oliver made with Burov and kidnap him along with Mia. Her Spidey sense was tingling, so she went to check on dad. Oops.

Source: feilcityqueen 

If there is one lesson the Arrow villains consistently fail to learn it’s DO NOT MESS WITH PEOPLE OLIVER QUEEN LOVES. He gets very angry and wildly unpleasant, which leads to many broken bones and occasionally murder. You put hands on Felicity Smoak and even I’m down with Oliver ripping off your head.

Of course, Oliver wakes from unconsciousness and his immediate question is if Mia is okay. Can’t-Admit-I’m-In-Love-With-You Oliver, 

Boyfriend Oliver,

Fiance Oliver, 

Ex-boyfriend Oliver, 

Husband Oliver, 

and Dad Oliver  are all the same Olivers.

Mia doesn’t understand why everyone in Russia knows who Oliver is and quickly deduces Dad was Bratva. Our princess is a smart cookie! Oliver is ticked Mia didn’t listen to him and there is truly no greater justice in the world than God creating a child who is exactly like you. Robert and Moira are having themselves a nice little chuckle.

Source: lucyyh 

The Bratva threatens to torture Mia if Oliver doesn’t tell them what’s on the zip drive. Mia is very brave and tells Daddy not to say anything. Pfft. Not likely Little Miss Square Bear. He points a gun at Oliver’s precious girl and counts down from five. The Green Arrow breaks like a pretzel. Honestly, I’m shocked Oliver didn’t give the guy the whole store after four.

Source: olicitygifs 

Unfortunately, nobody believes Oliver is telling the full story and a very large knife is brandished in Mia’s direction. Seriously? The one-time Oliver tells the truth he’s accused of lying. How ironic is that? The goon was at least 20 feet away from Mia, but Daddy was ready to flay him alive seven different ways. 

Oh. He was only cutting the restraints. Okay, we’ll knock down the flaying to five different ways.

The Bratva force Mia to play the Ring the Bell game. I don’t know if that’s what it’s called, but it works for my purposes. Oliver is very much HELL NO CHILD, but really her only other option is death. Of course, if she doesn’t ring the bell she dies too. ISN’T RUSSIA FUN? 

Mia kicks major ass, but is unable to ring the bell in under 60 seconds. This might have something to do with her wasting time to look back at the clock and then waiting an additional 3 seconds to reach for the friggin bell, but that’s just details. Be less stupid Arrow.

The Bratva don’t shoot her because… they’re nice gang of Russian mobsters now? 

Source: arrowdaily

This made very little sense other than Arrow doesn’t want to shoot the female lead of their new television show. On second thought, good enough for me. Oliver shoots death daggers at the man who scared the friggin bejesus out of him and it’s pretty much a certainty he will be flayed eight different ways.

William has a full-on panic attack over his father and sister’s kidnapping and it’s pretty much the cutest thing ever.  Then L*urel actually provides some necessary and helpful information. Is that the second week in a row this happened? I’m scared fandom. Hold me.

L*urel: Aren’t the people in your family constantly injecting each other with tracking devices?

William: Normally I would say God I hope not, but now I guess I can see the advantages.

He’s able to track them down, but L*urel and Anatoly show up right after Oliver has already freed himself by dislocating his thumbs. I love that trick. Mia’s reaction is the perfect combination of horrified and impressed. She really wants that trick to be on the next lesson plan.

Mia is bumming hard over not ringing the bell and boozes it up with some scotch. THY NAME IS GENETICS.

Oliver has had enough of his kids almost dying and is putting their asses on a plane back home BECAUSE THIS ISN’T DISNEY WORLD. 

William jumps firmly on Team Mia and reminds their father he’d be dead without them. Oliver has been dislocating his thumbs on his own for awhile now children. I think he’d survive without your help.

It’s time to set these kiddies straight.

Source:  oliverxfelicity

Mia tries to argue the whole adults saving the city angle, but that’s not going to fly in this timeline cupcake. 

In this timeline, Oliver smooshed those perfect chubby cheeks one more time before he left to save the universe 

Source:  oliverxfelicity 

and his rebelling teenage son, who was ousted from the present storyline to make a ridiculous plot point work in the future storyline, ignored his phone calls. (I’m never getting over the whole William never moves in with Mia and Felicity thing. NEVER.)

So, all of his children can take several seats and do what they’re told or they will be grounded! That includes no computer for you, William and Oliver will be taking that bow and arrow back little miss Mia.

Side note: This was a perfect time for William to explain WHY he didn’t return any of Oliver’s calls or if he even received them, but NOPE. Why would these writers attempt to clean up this mess of a storyline with reasonable explanations? Better to just ignore the Grand Canyon sized plot holes and keep driving through. 

Stephen Amell does a wonderful job in this scene as Oliver’s voice quivers with emotion. He’s skating the edge of keeping his composure and losing it all together perfectly this season. Neither Mia nor William have offered much understanding for where Oliver is coming from. Yes, they are adults but 1) No matter how old they get they will always be Oliver’s children and 2) HE MISSED TWENTY YEARS.  

Oliver has been very clear this was not a choice he wanted to make. Mia and William are not the only ones who lost something precious. Oliver lost a lot too. Part of being an adult is letting go of the natural narcissism we all have as children. So, if Mia and William want to put on their big boy and big girl pants then they need to show their father a little understanding and compassion.

Mia: And because you made the choice to protect us I had to spend my whole life alone. I didn’t have a chance to get to know my brother to get to know you.

Mia is not ready to do that yet. She throws Oliver’s choices in his face once again. He is still the one she wants to blame. If this reaction frustrates you then that’s understandable because Mia is supposed to be frustrating right now. It’s odd for us to be identifying through Oliver, but that’s what happens when the hero becomes fully evolved. This entire episode is about showing how much Mia still has to learn not only physically, but emotionally too.  

Source: oliverxfelicity

Oliver is getting used to Mia’s blame by now and it doesn’t really change his opinion on this situation. The worst part of this argument is Oliver believing his children hate him. His worst nightmare was Mia and William not understanding his choices and resenting him for it. Oliver’s greatest fear isn’t death. It is his children believing he abandoned them.

Mia being angry at Oliver over not growing up with William is really not his fault and it’s bizarre how the writers are insistent on lumping that in with everything else she’s ticked about. I did a deep dive on Mia’s emotional and psychological viewpoint last week and I won’t repeat it here because everything still stands. But how is Felicity never going back for William Oliver’s fault?

I’m not putting the blame on Felicity here either. It’s a ludicrous plot point that makes absolutely no sense, so it’s pointless to even try to argue the logic. And yet, that’s exactly what the writers keep trying to do. But it merely shines a brighter spotlight on their illogical reasoning behind the decision.

We are already sympathizing with Oliver because we know how heartbroken he was to leave his children. We know he sacrificed everything for a bunch of ungrateful twats who caught a lucky break for existing in the universe. But forcing Mia’s character to continually blame Oliver for EVERYTHING can rapidly make this character unlikeable. Particularly since her father left to SAVE THE UNIVERSE. The writers need to tread carefully. This has the same nonsensical threads of the Season 4 break up. Or, even worse, Mia channeling the same the anger/blame/bitterness of Season 1 & 2 L*urel Lance. Nobody wants a repeat of those hot messes.

Oliver is floundering. He missed twenty years of his children’s lives. They’ve arrived from a different time as adults. Oliver was still learning how to be a parent and then the universe flipped the board. He has no idea how to do this and the one person who can help him isn’t here. If there was ever a time Oliver needed his Felicity this is it.

So, the only guiding light Oliver has right now is the promise he made his wife and mother of his children. 

Source: oliverxfelicity 

Not to get too nitpicky on the details Oliver, but as @callistawolf​ pointed out in our Watchover episode of 8x05, we never heard him make any promises to Felicity about the children. 

In their final goodbye, it was Felicity promising Oliver to do whatever was necessary to keep their children safe (re: Nyssa Al Ghul). So, let’s just create our own head canon there was some Olicity discussion about the future kids being in present day off screen and he made the promise to her then. Cool? Cool.

OR Oliver is merely trying to score points in an argument via emotional manipulation, which hey man. More power to you. Whatever it takes to keep kiddos safe, I guess. I did have to chuckle about Oliver keeping his promises to Felicity NOW that she’s off the show. Where was this guy in 6x23? Or maybe I sobbed quietly. Probably a little of both. Regardless of the reasoning, it’s an EPIC speech. Dad for the win.

Oliver decides it’s time to get boozy. Amen brother. Pass the scotch. 

Anatoly is no Felicity Smoak, but in the ever-spinning weekly wheel of characters trying to fill her role, he asks the obvious question. Is Oliver sending his children home because he believes they cannot handle Russia/vigilantism/life?

Of course, the answer has been obvious from the moment Oliver decided to only share the good. It’s not about what his children can handle. This is about what Oliver can handle.

Anatoly: That is understandable. You’re ashamed. You have truly done some terrible things.

Oliver: Thank you for the reminder.

Anatoly: But you also have done some good things. It’s important that the kids see both.

Can’t you just hear Felicity Smoak saying these lines? Only in an adorable ramble and less booze? I miss her. Just leaving this here.

I absolutely understand Oliver’s refusal to share the darkest moments of his past. It’s not like my dad has gone chapter and verse into his Vietnam experiences. But I know he was there. I know some of the stories. Maybe Oliver doesn’t need to go into detail about the time he skinned a guy, but he can be honest with his children about being in the Bratva.

Anatoly: That’s the thing about teaching. It’s not about what you want to say. It’s about what they need to hear.”

This part of the speech is all Anatoly. 

Source: 1-crazy-dreamer 

He taught Oliver living was not for the weak because this was the lesson Oliver needed to hear.  Maybe he missed out on teaching William and Mia how to tie their shoes or ride a bike, but nobody understands what it means to be a hero better than Oliver Queen. The Crisis is coming and if Oliver is marching slowly but steadily to his death then he must pass on all he’s learned. There is still so much to teach Mia and William about Oliver’s life and who he is. Those lessons can only come from their father.  What William and Mia need to hear is the truth.

“You were so little. I think that’s what I’ve always wanted all these years. Is for you just to stay little, quiet and safe. But you’re not any of those things. You’re loud and fearless and it scares the crap out of me.” Derek Shepherd, Grey’s Anatomy

His children are loud and fearless and it scares the crap out of Oliver Queen. But there’s a deeper fear driving his hesitation. Oliver is afraid that if he tells Mia and William the truth about his past then they’ll only hate him more. He is constantly afraid of losing his children’s love.

But truth is the path to understanding. Anatoly is right. Oliver must give Mia and William a chance. The real truth is there’s nothing he has done or will ever do that will make his children stop loving him. Sure, Mia is angry at Oliver, but she’s only angry because she loves him. She craves her father’s approval more than anything.

Oliver changes his parenting tactic. He cannot shield his children from the very life they have chosen for themselves. He asks Mia to fight in the ring with him and William to help get them in. Oliver treats his children like they are part of the team – like partners.

Mia has been trying to show her father what she’s capable of since the moment she came to the present. Underneath all that anger and blame, is a little girl who just wants to make her daddy proud. What Mia needs to realize is she already makes Oliver proud merely by existing. However, he offers her the support and belief she’s been craving as they enter the ring together. 

Source: oliverxfelicity

The look on her face says everything about how Mia truly feels about her dad.

Source: arrowdaily

FATHER DAUGHTER FIGHT CLUB. From the moment, we met Blackstar in the ring I hoped she was Olicity’s daughter and we would somehow, someway get a scene of Oliver and Mia teaming up. But I never imagined these circumstances. It’s awesome.

After kicking butt as a team and a family, Oliver opens the door to his past and lets his children walk through. And what better place to start than the beginning?

Source: olivergifs

The truth is a tie that binds and it will be the foundation of Oliver’s relationship with his children. Something he never had with his parents until it was too late.

And did William and Mia stop loving Oliver after they heard the truth? No. They understand him better and love him all the more for what he’s survived. 

Mia: Don’t forget to send me that picture of my dad with that haircut.

Anatoly: Don’t forget to ask about Bratva tattoo. We have matching.

Oliver: Used to. Used to actually.

William: Oh I’m gonna need to hear that story immediately.

Well... son this raving loony burned my tattoo off my chest after several hours of torture. 

The warm banter of this scene isn’t to make light of what Oliver Queen suffered. It’s to show the power of telling our stories. Pain and fear lose control over us, bit by bit, the more we talk about it and share with our loved ones. We let them inside the good and bad, so we don’t have to carry it by ourselves anymore. Overtime, we begin to see our suffering for what it is - something we survived. Children, in particular, have an ability to find the light in the dark. We can see our life through their eyes and remarkably, yes even find the humor in what was once unspeakable pain. And come on - Oliver’s flashback hair is always funny.

Family is the source of Oliver’s strength. It always has been. It’s what helped him survive the unsurvivable.

He can only become his children’s strength by teaching them how he became a better man. William and Mia can only understand who their father is, and how to be heroes, by knowing the good and the bad. Hiding either tarnishes the beauty of his story. Oliver is finally strong enough to tell it and his children are strong enough to hear it. And that’s how the past, present and future will find harmony, acceptance, forgiveness and love.

Source: oliverxfelicity

Diggle and Roy

John enlists Roy’s help obtaining the plutonium.

 Source: thistributeisonfire

We’re going to run through this pretty quick because this storyline is all about getting Colton Haynes back on Team Arrow for the final episodes. 

Diggle tells Roy what happens to him in the future. The cure for Roy’s bloodlust wasn’t hiding out on Lian Yu for 20 years. It was rejoining the team and fighting for the city again.

Diggle: Maybe this time you don’t have to wait that long.

Diggle’s ENTIRE motivation is to change Roy’s future and it’s not difficult to figure out why. Obviously John cares about Roy and wants to help him. However, Roy also makes a very good test case. Diggle is also desperate to change Connor, JJ and Zoe’s future as well. If they can make their own hope in the present then maybe things can be different for his children in the future.

Source: 1-crazy-dreamer

We all need love and support. None of us can truly survive on our own - particularly when we are suffering. Roy fights John at first, but eventually he comes to realize he’s right. Roy found purpose and family when he met Oliver so it makes sense to him they are the reason he gets better. So why wait? He comes home and begins the path to healing twenty years earlier. And thus, a major storyline from Season 7 flash forwards begins to change.

ROY MADE SENSE Y’ALL!!! 

L*urel L*nce

I truly could not figure out why L*urel was in Russia. I guess to help Oliver track down these plans, but she spent the better part of the episode staring at her fingernails. That’s not even an exaggeration. KC stared at her fingernails for an entire scene.

Source: thistributeisonfire 

Her interactions with Oliver are even more bizarre.

Source: 1-crazy-dreamer 

I’m sorry, but does L*urel go here? Bl*ck S*ren has been on the show since Season 5. You’d think at this point she’d know Oliver Queen can easily handle one guy twice his size. I’m chalking up this stupidity to the acting version of a layup, so Stephen Amell can spike it with the epic comeback of, “I’ll give him half a chance.”

I guess L*urel is primarily in Russia to betray Oliver Queen and steal the plans or something, per Lyla’s instructions.

LL: And here I thought I was supposed to be the bad guy.

At last count Lyla never murdered innocent people, so I think she's still ahead by the numbers Bl*ck S*ren.  This is the problem with L*urel’s character this year. The comparisons her character makes this season are INSANE. Putting on a new suit and calling yourself Bl*ck C*nary doesn’t automatically make you morally superior to everyone.

At least when Season 7 L*urel was playing attorney she had a healthy perspective on herself.  I was a big fan of the snark last season and found her character to be refreshingly amusing in her biting honesty, but this year the writers lost the snarky humor and have gone straight to obnoxious hypocrisy and judgment.  Sometimes she’s just downright mean in a way none of the other characters deserve. Yes, Lyla is being shady, but this in no way erases the horrors of your past L*urel. 

L*urel: If saving it means going back to the person I used to be then what the hell is the point?

We all know this whole betray Oliver thing the Monitor is playing at with L*urel is a trick. She’s not going to betray Oliver and prove herself a worthy and useful hero.  Ok. Whatever. I know I’m supposed to get excited about her big speech, but this line kind of gnawed at me. 

L*urel is unwilling to save an ENTIRE EARTH because she’d have to do something shady. She’s not willing to do any dirty work if it sullies her good name. So, Earth 2 only matters as long as L*urel gets to be a hero on it? I guess I should be happy L*urel is holding onto her moral center, but if there’s anything Oliver Queen’s story has taught us sometimes heroism requires doing unpleasant things for the greater good.

Take Lyla for example – a person L*urel feels quite comfortable judging. Lyla has been lying to her husband, something she does not want to do, for the greater good. I think we know enough about Lyla’s character by now that even though her actions are hurtful we can trust her reasons. 

LL’s primary function this week it seems is to rat Lyla out to Diggle and Oliver.

Source: stevesrogered

I guess we’re supposed to rejoice there’s no price L*urel is willing to pay for her morality, but this is still the same person who has yet to take any responsibility for the people she’s murdered. The line just sounded so arrogant and self serving to me. I don’t know. Maybe it was just KC’s delivery.

It’s been difficult for me to imagine what role either L*urel or Dinah will play in the spin off and seeing as how the writers are struggling to find a purpose for their characters in the final season of Arrow I am not encouraged. That said, L*urel’s scene with Mia was one of the few bright spots for her character in this week’s episode.  Mia believes she’s not cut out to be a hero because she failed to ring the bell like her father and Zoe’s death still weighs heavily on her conscious.

Mia: Every time I try and live up to my dad or to prove I can do what it is you all do. I fail.

L*urel: If you’re trying to live up to us, don’t. We are just as flawed as anyone. Especially me. All you can do is live up to yourself.

Damn L*urel. That was really good advice and a truthful reflection of the person you are. CAN WE HAVE THIS ATTITUDE CONSISTENTLY WEEK TO WEEK PLEASE WRITERS? This is the first time I can see a version of L*urel working in the spin off, but that’s always the problem with the writing of her character. We never know which version we’re going to get.

Season 8 is slipping back into very bad Season 1 habits. There’s a lack of cohesiveness with L*urel and they really need to get this sorted out before the new show hits the air. Otherwise, we’re going to have the same problem we’ve always had with her character. No matter how many versions of L*urel’s character these writers create they never figure out who she truly is because they don’t want to devote the necessary screen time. This leaves us with a half baked canary every single time.

If L*urel is going to play Rupert Giles to Mia’s Buffy in the spin off then this scene is a good indication of how it could work, but that’s only if this path stays on track which seldom happens with this character. The key to LL is a very specific supporting role. She worked great in Season 7 because her focus was getting Oliver Queen out of jail. Then,it was about fleshing out her redemption and shipping her back to E2 to make amends.

L*urel lacks a concrete To Do list this year. They toss her into scenes and she takes up space looking at her fingernails. Or she arrives a few minutes after Oliver frees himself to scream down a door he could have easily opened. Or she says something hypocritical and nasty. REALLY? This is the best these writers can come up with? Sadly, history points to yes.

Keep her scenes short. Keep her scenes specific. Keep her scenes supporting. That’s the only way this character works. And believe me I wish it was different, but there doesn’t seem to be any version of L*urel L*nce these writers can keep a handle on.

You know what I appreciate about this scene between Anatoly and William though? Anatoly addresses his less than honorable past and apologizes. I can’t fully remember what Anatoly did to William - I think it might have been related to kidnapping or a bomb or a nuke or all three. See? I told you I don’t remember S6. My point is - can we expect an apology from L*urel for being an accessory to William’s mother’s murder? I won’t hold my breath. It would be extremely helpful if they addressed LL’s past in an honest way and actually had her show remorse to one of her victims, but again that requires more screen time and effort than this show is ever will to give her character.

SO WHY DO THEY KEEP HER AROUND?

Stray Thoughts

Connor isn’t in this week’s episode because he’s checking in on Sandra. Soooo… Connor can visit his mother but Mia and William can’t visit theirs? I know this is yet another EBR plot hole, but find a better reason for Connor to be MIA writers. It just makes the Smoak-Queen family look uncaring, which we know they are not. And if Connor can get an off camera mother moment mention then why can’t Mia and William? THESE ARE THE THINGS THAT ANNOY ME.

“Has anyone fought six men before?” Mia and Oliver’s side eye is hilarious, but didn’t Mia fight six goons by herself? And we’ve watched Oliver take down twenty without breaking a sweat. Raise the number in the ring a little if you want me to take their hesitation seriously.

Diggle is absolutely horrified to find out Lyla is working against the team with The Monitor. “I didn’t want to believe it was true.” Boy, really? Who are you kidding? This is Lyla Michaels, super spy. She’s been lying and doing shady things from minute one. She’s the Oliver to your Felicity. Get out of here with that nonsense. This is totally something she would do and you know it. Lol

William doesn’t like the field, but the allure of beautiful couture convinces him otherwise. At least he didn’t have to go on a skeevy date with Ray Palmer to wear it. Source:  felicitysmoakgifs

William’s “Wrap it up” sign while Mia was fighting was such a funny and wonderful way of showing their team within a team.

“I can be the fun uncle.” Raise your hand if you want Anatoly as a fun uncle. 

He was a complicated, but ultimately wonderful character who made Arrow a better show. 

Goodbye Anatoly. I will miss you. source:  oliverxfelicity

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me. 8x05 gifs credited.

If you’d like to support the blog, please buy me a cup of tea!

[bookishable]

deathly hallows book moments

warning: this one’s a rollercoaster ride of emotions, read at your own risk.

‘the idea of a teenage dumbledore was simply odd, like trying to imagine a stupid hermione or a friendly blast-ended skrewt.’

“i don’t think you’re a waste of space.”

‘he felt like asking them to show a little more respect for his privacy as they all began stripping off with impunity, clearly much more at ease with displaying his body than they would have been with their own.’

ron: why do i have to clean my room? mrs weasley: !!! WEDDING !!! ron: theyre not getting married in my damn bedroom

“we’re coming with you. that was decided months ago—years, really.”

“if i picked up a sword right now, ron, and ran you through with it, i wouldn’t damage your soul at all.” “which would be a real comfort to me, i’m sure”

harry waking up on his birthday forgetting he was 17

“accio glasses!” although they were only around a foot away, there was something immensely satisfying about seeing them zoom towards him, at least until they poked him in the eye.

ron giving harry a book called twelve fail-safe ways to charm witches for his birthday

“i’ve learned a lot. you’d be surprised, it’s not all about wandwork, either.”

‘the rest of her speech was lost; harry had got up and hugged her. he tried to put a lot of unsaid things into the hug and perhaps she understood them’

“are you planning to follow a career in magical law, miss granger?” “no i’m not, i’m hoping to do some good in the world!”

“it’s time you learned some respect!” “it’s time you earned it”

hermione: when we were little we heard stories like snow white and cinderella ron: what’s that, an illness? harry: rip me i never got read any stories

“a brutal triple murder by the bridegroom’s mother might put a bit of a damper on the wedding.”

“merlin’s beard, what is xenophilius lovegood wearing? he looks like an omelette.” excuse me why wasn’t auntie muriel like this in the film

“he used to down an entire bottle of firewhisky, then run on to the dance floor, hoist up his robes and start pulling bunches of flowers out of his—” “yes, he sounds a real charmer”

harry suggesting that xenophilius lovegood’s deathly hallows necklace is the cross-section of the head of a crumple-horned snorkack

“vot is the point of being an international quidditch player if all the good-looking girls are taken?”

‘harry heard her mutter a suggestion as to where ron could stick his wand instead.’

harry reading lily’s letter and noticing that they wrote their g’s the same way as each other, i’m sobbing

‘the letter was an incredible treasure, proof that lily potter had lived, really lived’

KREACHER’S GODDAMN TALE

kreacher hitting mundungus over the head with a saucepan “perhaps just one more, master harry, for luck?”

“if anyone shouldn’t go, it’s harry, he’s got a ten thousand galleon price on his head—” “fine, i’ll stay here, let me know if you ever defeat voldemort, won��t you?”

‘with a twinge of regret that had nothing to do with food, harry imagined the house-elf busying himself over the steak and kidney pie that harry, ron and hermione would never eat.’

‘not knowing or caring that their living son stood so near, his heart still beating, alive because of their sacrifice and close to wishing, at this moment, that he was sleeping under the snow with them.’

the sign outside the wreckage of the potters’ house, covered with messages left for harry

the child who had the nerve to say “nice costume, mister!” to mr tom riddle the dark lord voldemort, what an icon

“after you left, she cried for a week. probably longer, only she didn’t want me to see. there were loads of nights when we never even spoke to each other. with you gone… she’s like my sister, i love her like a sister and i reckon she feels the same way about me. it’s always been like that. i thought you knew.”

“you’ve sort of made up for it tonight, getting the sword. finishing off the horcrux. saving my life.” “that makes me sound a lot cooler than i was” “stuff like that always sounds cooler than it really was, i’ve been trying to tell you that for years.”

ron single-handedly fighting off five snatchers by telling them he was stan shunpike

“he must’ve known i’d run out on you.” “no, he must’ve known you’d always want to come back.”

“i just think it’s a bit spookier if it’s midnight!” “yeah, because we really need a bit more fear in our lives”

“death’s got an invisibility cloak?” “so he can sneak up on people, sometimes he gets bored of running at them, flapping his arms and shrieking…”

luna decorating her bedroom ceiling with paintings of her friends (i’m not crying, you are)

POTTERWATCH

“we’re all human, aren’t we? every human life is worth the same, and worth saving.”

“i’d tell him we’re all with him in spirit, and i’d tell him to follow his instincts, which are good and nearly always right.”

hagrid throwing a ‘support harry potter’ party

“the fact remains he can move faster than severus snape confronted with shampoo when he wants to”

“no! you can have me, keep me!” this book went from making me smile to shattering my heart in around three pages

‘hermione was screaming again: the sound went through harry like physical pain.’

ron’s ‘passable imitation of wormtail’s wheezy voice’

“so young, to be fighting so many.”

‘ron said, “blimey, a baby!” as if he had never heard of such a thing before.’

‘he seemed set on course to become just as reckless a godfather to teddy lupin as sirius black had been to him.’

“he was never free, never, the night that your brother died he drank a potion that drove him out of his mind. he started screaming, pleading with someone who wasn’t there… it was torture to him, if you’d seen him then, you wouldn’t say he was free.”

“i’m going to keep going until i succeed—or i die. don’t think i don’t know how this might end. i’ve known it for years.”

“i got this one for asking her how much muggle blood she and her brother have got.” “blimey, neville, there’s a time and a place for getting a smart mouth.”

“yeah, well, food’s one of the five exceptions to gamp’s law of elemental transfiguration,” said ron, to general astonishment.

“why would harry potter try to get inside ravenclaw tower? potter belongs in my house!”

‘harry heard a little strain of pride in her voice, and affection for minerva mcgonagall gushed up inside him.’

harry using the cruciatus curse on amycus in front of mcgonagall because “he spat at you”

mcgonagall dueling snape and sending a swarm of daggers at him

“where’s professor snape?” “he has, to use the common phrase, done a bunk” minerva i love you

neville throwing mandrakes over the walls

“is this the moment? OI! there’s a war going on here!” “i know, mate, so it’s now or never, isn’t it?”

‘and percy was shaking his brother, and ron was kneeling beside them, and fred’s eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face.’

‘a herd of galloping desks thundered past, shepherded by a sprinting professor mcgonagall.’

harry stunned the death eater as they passed: malfoy looked around, beaming, for his saviour, and ron punched him from under the cloak. “and that’s the second time we’ve saved your life tonight, you two-faced bastard!”

trelawney using crystal balls to knock out death eaters ‘with a movement like a tennis serve’

“are you a wizard, or what?”

“you must kill me.” “would you like me to do it now? or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?”

‘this cold-blooded walk to his own destruction would require a different kind of bravery.’

‘he was tiny in death.’

‘he felt he would have given all the time remaining to him for just one last look at them; but then, would he ever have had the strength to stop looking?’

“we’re all going to keep fighting, harry. you know that?”

“i am sorry too, sorry i will never know him… but he will know why i died and i hope he will understand. i was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier life.”

“until the very end”

“this is, as they say, your party.” harry had no idea what this meant; dumbledore was being infuriating.

“it is a curious thing, harry, but perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it.”

“do not pity the dead, harry. pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love.”

“of course it is happening inside your head, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”

‘the scream was the more terrible because he had never expected or dreamed that professor mcgonagall could make such a sound.’

ron breaking voldemort’s silencing charm “he beat you!”

“i’ll join you when hell freezes over, dumbledore’s army!”

harry calling voldemort tom riddle like “yes, i dare”

‘tom riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken’ where please, movies?

‘mcgonagall had replaced the house tables, but nobody was sitting according to house anymore’

peeves’ song voldy’s gone mouldy

‘tears were sliding down from behind the half-moon spectacles into the long silver beard, and the pride and the gratitude emanating from him filled harry with the same balm as phoenix song.’

harry FIXING HIS DAMN WAND

“i’ve had enough trouble for a lifetime.”

“if you’re not in gryffindor, we’ll disinherit you, but no pressure.”

albus complaining that everyone is staring and ron being like “it’s me. i’m extremely famous.”

‘the scar had not pained harry for nineteen years. all was well.’

[tinytonysnark]

Written from the fall starters! (x)(x)

🍂🍂🍂

Heading into the new month, the air takes on a sharper smell that brings about the specific feeling of being wrapped in freshly laundered blankets still warm from the dryer. The air is crisp and Bucky is crunching on leaves with his every step as he’s walking hand in hand with Tony.

God, Tony has somehow gotten cuter during the Fall, stunning against the backdrop of the pretty red and golden hues surrounding them.

He’s wearing Bucky’s orange beanie on his head, curls poking out around his forehead and his glasses keep incrementally slipping down his nose with every sip he takes of his coffee. 

They’re heading back to Tony’s dorm after having lunch together, cutting through the park as a shortcut when the sound of a leaf blower startles the both of them, Tony flinching into Bucky’s side. 

“It’s fine, babe, just a man wasting perfectly good leaves,” he says, rubbing circles into Tony’s back. 

“Yeah, just scared the hell out of me is all,” Tony exhales. “And don’t act like you didn’t jump too Mr. Tough Guy, that was loud as shit.’

“I didn’t jump, I was merely caught off guard is all,” Bucky tells him, tugging him closer. “Leaf blowers are such cheats anyway. Everyone knows raking is the way to go; makes jumping into the leaves more satisfactory.”

“Jump- jumping into the leaves?” 

“Yeah, Stevie and I used to do it all the time when we were younger,” Bucky says as they continue walking. “Both our Ma’s thought were were gonna get sick with how often we’d be out in the cold every day, just raking the leaves, jumping in them and then doin’ it all over again. On the other hand, the caretaker for the apartment building was thrilled by the child labour.”

“Wow, the both of you were so easy to scam,” Tony says, smiling but he’s looking back towards the park, a little wistfully.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’ve just- it sounds fun is all. I’ve never done it,” Tony admits, trying to give Bucky a reassuring smile but it just makes Bucky’s stomach uneasy. 

He forgets sometimes, just how much of Tony’s childhood was taken from him.

He has a lot of things he’d like to say, not all of them to Tony but he only asks, “What would you and your Ma do for Fall? Any traditions?”

The smile he’s graced with then is a little more real, but as they got closer to Tony’s dorm, the other boy talking about how the yearly tradition of baking Pumpkin Bread with his Ma started, he’s already trying to think of a way to get his favourite type of smile from Tony. The one that reaches his eyes and lights up his whole face and makes Bucky feel that he could do just about anything whenever it’s directed at him. 

It’s deadly, that smile. 

He drops Tony off in the lobby of his dorm, making an excuse that’s not technically a lie about forgetting to meet with Steve, and heads back to the park.

He calls Steve on the way, telling him to get his butt there and to bring Sam along. 

Steve huffs at him and tells him he’s a sap, but says he’ll be there in 20 before hanging up without a goodbye. 

The old man with the leaf blower, who’s got a name tag that reads Stan, is still at the park and he turns of the machine when he spots Bucky trying to get his attention. “What can I do you for, son?”

“Afternoon, sir. Was just wondering if you wouldn’t mind if piled up all the leaves around here? Trynna relive some childhood memories, you see and well, create new ones,” Bucky explains, colour flooding his cheeks over how ridiculous he must sound to this man.

Stan only huffs a laugh though and points to three rakes that are up against a tree. Huh. “Had a feeling I should be bringing those with me today and my feelings ain’t ever wrong. You’re more than welcome to take over. I’m tired of this anyway,” Stan tells him before walking off and leaving Bucky alone in the park.

“Well,” he stares at all the leaves Stan blew haphazardly around the trunk of a tree, “looks like it’s time to rake the leaves.”

“Nat, you never want to go for a walk in the park,” Tony whines as Nat drags him out of his room. “You like to say that a park is where you’re going to be murdered and you say it with certainty because I know you’re a witch who can see visions of the future.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I will not be killed here at this park. It’s far too soon.”

“I thought you said you were busy this week and quote, ‘can’t hang with you losers’, which one, rude and two, makes you a loser just by association, so ha.”

“As if I’d ever be mistaken for a loser,” she sniffs. 

“Alright, that’s fair, but what is going on with the outfit today?” he asks her, eyeing the knitted wool beanie on her head, the candy apple red scarf around her neck, the fingerless gloves and brown suede boots ensemble she got going on. “Not that it’s bad or anything, but you look like what the physical manifestation of Taylor Swift’s Red album looks right now.”

“Shut up, I’m season appropriate and Red deserved a Grammy, that’s just a fact.”

“True, but certain songs really should have been aco-” he trails off as they come in sight of the park and sees Bucky, Steve, Sam and Bruce standing there among piles and piles and piles of leaves.

Nat nudges him in the side, grin wide on her face. “Bucky wanted a fun day in the park to surprise you.”

“Hey, doll,” Bucky calls out, jogging over to him. “What do you think? Wanna head in?”

Tony can’t help it. He smashes his lips onto Bucky’s , and it’s terrible, their teeth clack and he’s grinning to wide for it not to be awkward and their friends make gagging noises behind them but god, he doesn’t care because this man, this stupidly gorgeous lovely man did all this for him and it’s feels like he’s gonna combust from how warm he feels. 

He pulls back, looking at the pile of leaves that go up to Bucky’s knees and asks, “How do I- Do I just jump?”

He doesn’t even have time to process the mischievous glint in Bucky’s eyes before he’s scooped up. “Best way is to be thrown in.”

“Thrown?”

Bucky tosses him into the pile and he lets out a shriek of laughter as he goes sinking in. 

He pops out and his glasses are halfway down his face and bits of leaves are poking at him in every direction but when smiles up at Bucky, the smile he gets in return lights him up in a way nothing else ever has. 

It’s deadly, that smile.

[manycoloureddays]

34, 15, 16 - any losers (could work for any, couldn't pick!)

 34. Spin the Bottle, and this is all the losers because I couldn’t pick! This is also very, very long (3.5k) and unedited, but enjoy!!It’s all Bill’s fault. 

They’re sprawled out around the Denbrough’s basement; all of them on the floor, lying so they’re touching each other, even though he could have sworn some of them started out on the ratty old couch. Bev and Stan and Mike he thinks. 

He’s lying with his head on Ben’s stomach, his feet in Richie’s lap, his hand curled around Mike’s wrist, while Mike’s other hand runs through Stan’s curls. Bev and Bill are sitting either side of Richie, the three of them passing a joint back and forth between them, pressed close, shoulder to shoulder. The seven of them all together, inextricable. As it should be. 

Eddie’s comfortable, even though it’s stuffy down here and they spent their morning goofing around the Barrens. He can definitely feel a little sunburn on the back of his neck. It’s the second week of summer after their first year away at college, all of them spread across the country most of the year now, and it’s nice, just being together like this. 

He’s missed them all a stupid amount. 

They write sometimes, call less than that, but college is busy, and there’s no comparison to this. To Ben’s fingers running through his hair. To being able to lift his head and catch Richie’s eye when he knows they’re both laughing about the same thing, Richie running his hand up his calf and squeezing his knee. To being able to share a Look with Stan. To being able to touch people. 

God, he’s missed touching people. He’s missed feeling comfortable enough to touch people. He relaxes further into it. Hums along to The Clash record that Richie had put on. Everything is exactly as it should be, and then Bill passes the joint to Stan and opens his stupid mouth. 

‘You know w-what w-we should do?’ There’s a collective questioning noise. ‘We should p-play a game. Never Have I Ever. Truth or D-dare. Spin the b-b-bottle.’ 

Eddie lifts himself up a little, weight resting on his elbows instead of on Ben, and raises his eyebrows. Stan looks confused too, and Richie looks wary, but the others all seem agreeable, if not enthusiastic. 

‘C’mon, g-guys. It d-doesn’t have to b-be a big d-deal. It’s just us.’

Bev shrugs. ‘I’m not playing Truth or Dare with Richie ever again. Not after last time.’ She flicks Richie’s ear just as he’s opening his mouth, probably to say something stupid about being the resident Truth or Dare champion. ‘But I’m up for a game.’

‘Yeah, as long as it isn’t Truth or Dare,’ Stan says, and Eddie glares at him. Traitor. 

‘Oh really?’ Richie’s grinning wide, wriggling his eyebrows at Stan. ‘You not going to flake or fail out of Never Have I Ever, Staniel?’

Stan flips him off, grinning back. ‘It’s been a year, Tozier. I think I could give you a run for your money.’

Richie laughs loud, like it’s been punched out of him, and his grin is so fond it makes Eddie’s teeth hurt. ‘That’s my boy!’ He crows, leaning forward with his palm up for Stan to hit. 

They go back and forth for a bit, Eddie with his fingers crossed for Never Have I Ever, because despite how comfortable he is wrapped up in his friends, his other option is kissing at least one of them and he is not sure how he feels about that. It’s Mike that casts the deciding vote. 

‘Never have I ever played spin the bottle.’ Just like that it’s decided. They all sit up and start arranging themselves in something more circular. Bill goes upstairs to find a bottle.

He must still be looking a little freaked, because Bev catches his eye and says, quietly, so the others can pretend not to hear her, ‘if you don’t want to ..?’

Eddie shakes his head. ‘As long as there’s no rule that it has to be a kiss on the mouth, I think I’ll be okay.’

And because his friends are the best, even when they’re the worst, not one of them protests his rule. Richie sits down next to him, not that there has even been, nor will there ever be, a question of that, and slings an arm across his shoulders. Eddie leans into him, resting his head against Richie’s neck. 

Richie giggles. ‘Your hair’s tickling my nose, dude.’ Instead of moving away, he nuzzles his nose in Eddie’s hair. ‘It’s got long.’

Eddie shrugs, small enough not to dislodge Richie’s arm. ‘Ma wasn’t around to tell me to cut it. I think I like it longer.’ He looks up in time to catch Richie, soft and fond. 

‘It looks good, Spaghetti.’

‘Don’t call me that,’ Eddie says through an unconvincing smile. 

He shoves Richie this time moving with enough force to dislodge him. Richie falls dramatically into Bev, who doesn’t blink, doesn’t even look up from where she’s talking to Mike about a book they’ve both been reading, just reaches up to steady him. 

Then Bill’s back, and there’s an empty wine bottle being placed in the middle of their circle, and Eddie is back to worried. 

When none of them make a move towards the bottle, Bev rolls her eyes and sighs exaggeratedly. 

Leaning forward and smirking at the boys around her, she says, ‘guess I’m always going to be first, huh?’ and spins the bottle. 

Eddie watches it spin and sends out a plea to the universe. Not me, not me, please not me first. 

It lands on him. Because of course it does. Because the universe hates him. He would like to blame the universe, but then there’s a wolf whistle from the other side of the circle and he looks up to see Bill. Ah, he thinks to himself, that’s right. It’s all Bill’s fault.

Bev shuffles into the circle and beckons for Eddie. He doesn’t want to make this harder for himself, or uncomfortable for the others, so he moves towards her, grimacing. She holds out her hand, and because it’s Bev, he takes it. She squeezes, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand. Once they’re kneeling knee to knee, she leans closer to him and presses a firm, warm kiss to his forehead. 

He watches her as she pulls back, her eyes are warm and full of laughter, and he’s seen her nearly every day for two weeks but he’s been missing her for months and months. Hasn’t seen her except for one afternoon over Christmas, when they’d overlapped in Derry for a weekend and they’d shared two milkshakes at the diner because they both liked chocolate and strawberry and never wanted to choose. So he leans up now and presses his own kiss her forehead. 

When he sits back on his heels, her smile is toothier. ‘Love you too, Eddie.’

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m very lovable,’ he grumbles. He knows he’s blushing. He scoots back to his spot next to Richie and sticks a finger in his face. ‘And don’t you start!’

Richie, who was definitely about to make a crack about how lovable Eddie is, or possibly about how he got it from his mother, laughs, his hands up as if to say, who? Me?

‘It’s your turn, Eddie,’ Ben says, and Eddie groans. They all laugh at him, as he leans forward and spins.

He watches the bottle. Feels his stomach flip when it whirls past Richie. He doesn’t know if he wanted it stop or desperately did not want it to stop. What would be better, kissing Richie in front of a room full of people who know him better than anyone else in the world, most of whom know about his crush, and some who have told him to do something about it more than once, or chickening out and kissing his cheek, his forehead, the back of his hand like he’s in a Jane Austen novel. 

The bottle lands on Bill, and that feels, somehow, like the universe is flipping him off. You don’t want to kiss the boy you’ve been in love with probably since you were eleven, but definitely since you were thirteen? Fine, kiss the first boy you ever had a crush on. Is this better? Is this what you wanted Eddie? To which Eddie would like to respond, fuck you, universe. 

Once again, Eddie is the second one to crawl into the circle, Bill is waiting for him, his usual cocksure self. Eddie jabs him in the gut, just to wipe the stupid grin off his face. 

‘So, do you want another forehead kiss, or are you ready for something better?’ Bill asks.

Eddie, who still has not learned how to not talk back when people try to get a rise out of him, shoots back, ‘You think you can give me better, huh Billy? I’d like to see you try.’ 

He immediately wants to slap himself, just bury his face in his palm and be done with it, but Bill is too quick. He takes Eddie’s face in both hands, ducking in closer. 

‘Is this okay?’ And that is so Bill, that quick change from ridiculous bravado to kindness, that Eddie just rolls his eyes, all fondness, and nods. ‘Cool.’

Bill kisses him, soft but sure. For all it’s close-lipped and chaste, there’s a tenderness that Eddie was not expecting. Bill strokes a thumb across Eddie’s cheek and pulls back. His smile is softer now.

Eddie is definitely blushing now. He smiles back, grins when Bill meets his eye, and nudges his shoulder with his knuckles. 

‘Thanks, Big Bill. Eight year old me is flipping out right now.’ Bill furrows his brow, and Eddie shrugs, in for a penny… ‘Yeah, you were my first crush.’

Richie squawks, and Bev sings out, ‘we really are twins!’, and Bill, Bill blushes. Eddie giggles. He taps Bill’s cheek in a gesture that reminds him horribly of his aunts. 

‘Don’t worry, I’ve been over it for years.’

‘Sh-shut up, Eddie,’ Bill laughs. 

And, alright, maybe this game isn’t so terrible after all.

Eddie sits back in the circle and lets himself enjoy the game. He plucks Richie’s beer out of his hand and takes a sip, not bothering to wipe the can before he does. He watches Richie watch him out of the corner of his eye and smiles to himself. 

Bill spins and the bottle lands on Mike — ‘This should be interesting’, Richie whispers into Eddie’s hair, taking his beer back, but staying close, pressed up against Eddie’s side — and Eddie watches Mike rubs his palms on his shorts before joining Bill. They stare at each other for longer than either of Eddie’s kisses lasted. Eddie can’t see Mike’s face from this angle, but Bill’s eyes dart over to Stan, who is leaning forward, face intent. 

The kiss was soft, until it wasn’t, Bill clambering into Mike’s lap, Mike’s grip on Bill’s hips tight. 

Eddie turns to Richie, eyebrow raised, but finds Richie looking not at Bill and Mike, but at Stan. Eddie follows his gaze. Stan’s lip in caught in his teeth, but he doesn’t look worried or hurt, he looks. He looks like he’s trying to work out a particularly difficult equation actually. Eddie turns back to Richie, who seems satisfied. 

Eddie doesn’t know much about what’s going on with Stan and Mike, but he and Bill are both in New York, and he’s had many lunches and dinners and nights out diverted by Bill’s “wonderings” about Stan and Mike. He’s also spent a number of his phone calls with Richie since spring break talking about how Stan needs to stop talking to Richie about his ‘soap opera love life and just talk to the fucking people he wants to fuck’. 

Maybe Bill’s Spin the Bottle plan wasn’t concocted with the sole aim of annoying Eddie. 

Mike and Bill are still kissing, and Stan looks about to combust, and Eddie is wondering if he should say something, when Ben coughs significantly. When that doesn’t work, Bev grabs an ice cube out of her water and leans over to put it down the back of Bill’s shirt. It works a treat. 

‘The fuck, Bev?’ Bill squeaks, before he and Mike have the decency to look sheepish. 

When Mike’s turn lands on Stan, Bev holds another ice cube up threateningly and says, ‘you get twenty seconds. Thirty, if I’m feeling generous’. 

Stan flips her off. He catches Bill’s hand on his way back to his spot, leans in to kiss the corner of his mouth, and then he’s mirroring the Bill of a few minutes ago and climbing Mike like he’s a goddamn tree. Mike’s fingers are in Stan’s curls, and Eddie has had tunnel vision since he realised that the swoopy, butterflies feeling he got in his stomach was Richie-related and didn’t just happen anytime anyone touched him, but watching Mike and Stan kiss, he is forced to admit that his friends are really fucking hot. 

He takes another swig of Richie’s beer, and then decides to finish it, because he can. 

‘Jealous, Eds?’ Richie whispers, his hand finding its way into Eddie’s curls. ‘Looks like Mike’s the one to kiss.’

‘Nah.’

‘Not even a little? It looks like you’re enjoying the view.’ There’s something in his tone, something wistful that he hears almost every time they talk on the phone, but Eddie isn’t bothered by it. He just pushes back into Richie’s hand where it’s scratching the base of his skull. 

‘I can enjoy the view and not be jealous. ‘Sides, no one’s enjoying the view as much as Bill.’ 

Richie murmurs in agreement. His fingers get caught in a tangle in Eddie’s hair, and when he tugs Eddie feels himself go boneless. 

‘Jesus,’ Richie tugs again. ‘You’re like a cat.’

Eddie is about to ask him something — he’s not sure what, just knows that words are about to come pouring out any second — when Bev calls time, and Eddie’s focus is drawn back to the circle. 

Stan’s first spin lands on Bev, who says with the confidence of the only person who cares about the rules of a stupid party game that they aren’t doing double turns until everyone’s had a kiss. Stan second spin lands on Richie, and Eddie almost whines when he pulls his hand away and shuffles into the circle. Almost. 

He doesn’t quite stop himself from pouting though, and Bev leans over to poke him just so she can wink at him. Eddie sticks out his tongue. 

Stan and Richie kneel facing each other, and Eddie can tell they’re having one of their silent conversations but he’s never learned how to decrypt them. It used to bother him, when they were younger. Partly because of his whole Richie situation, but mostly because he was supposed to be Richie’s best friend. It was stupid, because all of the losers were best friends, and just because he and Richie became EddieandRichie did not mean that Richie was not allowed to have other best friends. It wasn’t really until they’d started back at school after that summer, the summer that changed everything, and he saw the way Richie and Stan were able to slow each other down with a look, the way Richie always seemed to know how much attention to give Stan’s worry, the way Stan always knew the right thing to say to bring Richie back to himself, that Eddie got it. Stan and Richie were first best friends, they were brothers. And Eddie had been starting to realise that he really did not want to be Richie’s brother. 

Now, even though he still doesn’t understand whatever weird language Stan and Richie have, he knows them well enough to know they’re trying to figure out how to do this without making it weird. 

It only lasts a second before Richie pounces, pressing Stan back into the carpet and dotting kisses all over his face. He kisses Stan’s eyebrows, his chin, his forehead and cheeks, the tip of his nose, and Stan is rolling on the floor underneath him, giggling. 

Satisfied that Stan has been kissed enough, Richie sits back and helps him up, both of them collapsing on each other, laughing. 

‘You’re such a shit, Rich,’ Stan manages to say through his laughter. 

‘You love it.’ 

Stan snorts and ruffles Richie’s hair. 

Richie picks the bottle up and rubs it like it’s a magic lamp. ‘Are you ready, Benny boy?’ 

Ben laughs and moves towards the circle but Richie holds up a hand. 

‘No, no, this is Spin the Bottle, not kiss whichever friend hasn’t been kissed. We might be playing by Miss Marsh’s rules, but the spinning of the bottle is a sacred rite.’ 

It takes Richie fifteen spins to get the bottle to land on Ben, and even then he seems sceptical, convinced the bottle is pointing not at Ben’s knee, but at the space in between Ben and Stan. 

Ben sighs, put upon, the way he mastered last year when Eddie and Richie would crash his library study sessions and he needed a quiet and polite way to tell them to fuck off. 

‘Fine, fine. I know you want some of this,’ Richie sweeps his arm in front of him, before waving Ben forward. 

Ben leans in and kisses Richie on the nose. Not to be out done, Richie kisses Ben on the nose with a lot more wet noises than Eddie thinks is strictly necessary, but Ben just laughs. 

Richie crawls back across the floor, and curls up around Eddie, his left arm braced beside Eddie, propping him up, his chin resting on Eddie’s shoulder so they’re almost cheek to cheek. 

They spin the bottle a few more times, but Eddie doesn’t really pay attention, too focused on the millimetre of space between his face and Richie’s. Ben definitely kisses Mike, and he thinks Bev kisses Stan, but all of their interest sort of fizzles out, and they go back to drinking and lounging and talking about their plans for the rest of the summer. Someone mentions a road trip: two cars, a glove box full of mixtapes, and somewhere with an ocean. He’s pretty sure he agrees to go, makes a mental note to find the right time to tell his mother. Not that she gets much say in what he does now. That was his condition, when he agreed to stay at her house this summer instead of staying at one of his friends’ places. 

Eventually the hot day and the beer and Richie’s stupidly big hand in his hair catch up to him, and Eddie hears Richie say quietly to Bev? Bill? ‘I’m going to take him home. We’ll see you guys tomorrow.’ And then he’s being tugged to his feet, and the change of altitude brings him close enough to wakefulness that he can say goodbye to his friends, and walk up the stairs under his own steam. 

He and Richie walk home; Richie overshooting his street so he can walk Eddie to his door like he always does. Their arms are swinging at their sides, their hands almost brushing, and Eddie is sick of the space between them. How is it that today they have both kissed two people, and somehow the only people in their group they missed out on are Mike and each other? 

Eddie screws up his courage and closes the distance. 

Richie stumbles when he takes his hand, but he rights himself fairly quickly, and their arms still swing between them. 

They don’t talk, and Eddie finds himself enjoying the quiet. 

When they reach the end of Eddie’s street, instead of walking up to his house and saying goodnight and walking up the stairs so he can miss Richie until he sees him tomorrow — or until he sneaks in Eddie’s window — instead of doing what he’s done every day of the summer, and every day of his life for four years before that, he tugs Richie under the enormous tree by the entrance to the small park on the corner. 

‘Eds?’ Richie’s voice has that weird wistful tone again, and Eddie can’t stand it anymore.

‘CanIkissyou?’ He asks so fast he’s not sure Richie will be able to parse the words. 

‘What?’

‘Can I kiss you?’ 

Richie’s face is doing something complicated, and Eddie knows this one. Knows that even if Stan could deceipher it this face is still for Eddie alone. This face is wary and careful and a little bit scared, but mostly it’s just hopeful. 

Richie nods. Says, ‘please’. 

And Eddie is really really glad this didn’t happen in Bill’s basement, with all their friends, because of some bottle. Because there’s no one to call time after he’s stepped into Richie’s space and pressed their lips together, after Richie’s caught his waist and dragged him impossibly closer, after he’s licked Richie’s bottom lip and swallowed the moan that followed. 

They pull apart, slowly, when their need for air is suddenly more than theoretical, but they don’t go far. Richie bent forward so their foreheads can rest together, so they can stay breathing the same air. 

‘I’ve wanted to do that forever,’ Eddie says, and Richie sighs, presses a kiss to Eddie’s nose, to his top lip, pulls back far enough so he can look Eddie right in the eye. 

‘Me too. Eds, me too. Forever.’ 

Eddie is powerless to do anything besides lean in and kiss him again.

[rinusagitora]

The love, lead, and the undead.

Fandom: Monster Prom

Characters: Damien LaVey, Brian Yu, Zoe, Vera Oberlin, Amira RashidLiam de Lioncourt, Stan LaVey, Dahlia Aquino, Vicky Schmidt, OC: Jamison, OC: Berenice

Pairings: Brian/Damien/Vicky, Oz/Zoe, Amira/Vera

Words: 2.4k

Summary: Canon divergent. Chapter 7/?. WARNINGS— funerals; It is the day of Vicky’s funeral.

A/N: Sorry this took so long. I caught a whopper of a stomach bug and then I had to work over the holiday. I will be on hiatus until the 16th or 17th of December to work on a couple of holiday projects.

Stan guided Brian and Damien into the overworld. Brian drove them to the mortuary and none of them so much as uttered a word. Damien was preoccupied with what Brian told him before they left: by the conversation between Lucien and Mugandr, about Vicky’s soul. She had done more than enough to warrant damnation.

Damien had met Mugandr before. He was quite a terrible creature. Although seeming loyal to them, it was fearsome to know Mugandr was able to single-handedly create the carnage Damien only enviously dreamt of.

More importantly, Damien was preoccupied with why his parents chose to keep something so… important a secret. It had to be a lie or a dream, but why would Brian have lied? And he was wide awake, it couldn’t have been a dream! The more Damien contemplated it, he became increasingly horrified. He didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want Vicky, sweet Vicky,

He should have checked the big book before they left. He wanted to see Vicky’s fate for himself.

They parked behind the mortuary. Inside, they were met by a creature with a bulbous jaw and cloudy, albeit kind eyes. “Your Majesty, Prince Damien, Mister Yu, welcome. My name is Jamison. I’m the director here.”

“Jamison, it’s a pleasure finally meeting you. Lucien has told me so many things about you.”

“Your Majesty, your husband saved me and my family many years ago, long before you left your family. I owe him my life. Preparing your daughter-in-law’s funeral is the very least I can do for your family.”

“We’re not… we’re not married,” Damien remarked.

“I trust these are your sons,” Jamison said. He took Brian’s and Damien’s hands into his own. “Mister Yu, Prince Damien, I’m so sorry for your loss. She was a loving woman. I saw it in her eyes. I see it in your eyes. Wherever she is, I hope she finds peace. I hope you find peace as well, dear boys.”

Damien smiled joylessly. Jamison must have been an empath. “Thank you.” He hadn’t the energy to bully the creature.

“The body is prepared. We have taken her into the viewing room if you like to visit her,” Jamison said. He led them into the viewing room. After rows of pews like a chapel, there was Vicky’s grey casket. Even from the other side of the room, he saw strands of Vicky’s hair from the top of the casket. Damien’s knees locked up.

Brian took a step forward and stopped when he realized Damien couldn’t move. “Please,” Brian whispered, “I need you.”

Damien reluctantly nodded. He followed Brian to the casket where Vicky was laid in a nest of her beautiful hair and a satin dress. It wasn’t the same, though. Her eyes were sunken. Her lips were pale.

Brian kissed her forehead. He stroked her hand with his thumb.

“Damien, Brian,” Stan said, “do you have anything to say to Vicky?”

He wanted to shake his father. He wanted to scream at Stan until he was told the truth about Vicky. Instead, he only shook his head.

They sat. He couldn’t bear to look at her casket any longer. As Damien stared at his shoes, people trickled inside, and his father thanked them for their kind words Damien was deafened to. He didn’t want kind words. He wanted their situation to make sense. He wanted Vicky back. He wanted to hope that his fathers hadn’t hidden Vicky’s fate from him.

Liam sat behind Damien and clasped his shoulder. “You look like you spent the last couple of nights sleeping on stone.”

“I’m tired,” Damien replied quietly. “I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since she was killed.”

“I’m still processing all this myself. But Vicky loved us. She loved you guys.”

The constant reminder made Damien ache as if he failed Vicky. As if he should have shoved her out of the way. As if he could have talked her out of robbing a lab.

“Is Vera coming?”

“Yes. She’s coming with Amira and Valerie. Blobert texted me earlier, he should be here soon.”

“What about Oz and Zoe?” Brian asked.

“I don’t know. I haven’t heard from either of them today.”

Oz and Zoe wouldn’t have bailed out on Vicky’s funeral. They wouldn’t have dropped off the planet, either, not when Brian, who was one of their best friends, just suffered such an enormous loss. The whole thing felt like a conspiracy. It only confirmed what Brian said. It gave Damien the chills. Why else would they, as well as his father Lucien, not be there?

Later, the Oberlin girls approached the body. Vera rarely faltered, but she faltered that moment, and Valerie had to take her to their seats. When Blobert came, he sobbed against Vicky’s shirt. Damien only felt hollow when he was hugged. Blobert felt cold like Vicky.

Jamison mounted the podium. “Good morning, loved ones of Missus Vicky.” They weren’t fucking married. It cut Damien to the bone. He loved her like they were husband and wife, yet they were so many only-s Damien hadn’t realized before then. They were only dating, only together for a week, only children. It cut Damien deeply enough he began to cry there. “I am gladdened to see so many of you partook in Vicky’s rich and wonderful life. I will waste no time giving the stage to Missus Vicky’s loved ones. After eulogies from His Majesty Stan LaVey, Vera Oberlin, and Liam de Lioncourt, we will continue into the parlor.”

Stan strode to the podium. "Hello, all. Thank you for coming."

"I didn't know Vicky for long, but what I did know was that she was incredibly loving and she spent every minute possible with the people she loved. My son Damien has regaled myself and my husband with many tales of his friendship with Vicky, and ever since he got together with her and Brian, he's been the happiest he's ever been."

“I will miss Vicky’s softness. My son told me how she enjoyed the rush of violence, but he told me about how much she cared for her friends. She stayed with him when he felt down, he forgave him for his wrongdoings. She stood up to terrible, bigoted people to defend her friends. Given the opportunity, I know she would have made a fantastic warrior and ally. I know she was for all her loved ones, and I know she will be forever missed.”

It was moving, and somehow, it felt like a lie too. Nonetheless, after Stan sat, Vera replaced him. Her cheeks were wet.

“I’m not one for speeches. I’ve spent two days since Vicky was pronounced dead to come up with something to no avail. But I have to do this because Vicky was like a sister to me. Neither of us had families. Her’s had their flaws, and until my father took me in, I didn’t have anyone. You scrounge for anything when there’s a hole like that. In a lot of ways, Vicky filled that hole with my sister and father.”

“Vicky became my best friend. She was fun. Unpredictable, passionate, it made for a lot of insane stories. We became close and then became business partners. Before I knew it, most of my world was the two of us. It was me, Papa, Valerie, and Vicky, all of us together.”

“I haven’t been able to stop crying since she died. I cried this morning, I cried all the way here. I can hardly keep it together now. I can’t help but feel like I didn’t tell her how much I loved her as much as I should have. What I would have done to keep her safe and happy. I’m sad without her, but I try to think about how I would want her to feel if I had died instead…. I’d want her to grieve in her way, with loved ones, and I’d want her to be happy.”

Vera escaped off the podium, tearful before she sat so hard the wooden bench groaned.

Damien felt kind of numb. After his father’s speech, everything seemed like a lie. Vera was Vicky’s best friend, but Damien still wanted to turn around and tear Vera’s head off so she wouldn’t act like she hadn’t treated Vicky like a tool.

Damien was a pretty terrible friend.

Liam had taken the stand. He said some things or another, and he played a video where Vicky was perched on top of a ramp wearing knee pads and a helmet, she howled as they rode down the curve, and then stood and played with her hair as the ocean lapped at her ankles and the sun tinted her cheeks.

Vicky fell on the ramp. The sun sank behind the ocean.

Vicky fell onto the sidewalk. Her casket sank below the earth. Damien wanted to sink with her.

---

Brian ached the entire procession. His eyes, his chest, his knees. Like he crawled mile after mile to weep before her casket. But nothing came from his body, no tears, no whimpers. He couldn't even bleed those days because his blood was a net of coagulation like mucus between his fingers.

But Damien howled like a hound with his head buried in Brian's shoulder. He clutched Brian's blazer so hard his knuckles were pink.

All Brian wanted was a drink. Something hot to scald his throat and deafen him to the ungodly creak of his bones and the drone of plangent eulogies.

When he looked over his shoulder (the way his neck creaked made him sick) he laid eyes on Zoe with a veil over her face by the door.

Brian's head spun. Where was Oz? Did she turn down Lucien's request for help? Was she there to mourn with the rest of them? He couldn't contain his racing mind. He slipped away and followed Zoe into the lobby.

Damien caught his hand. His cheeks were puffy from crying. "I can't do this without you," he croaked.

"I think Zoe has something to tell us," Brian said.

Damien was frozen for a moment before he quietly nodded. They followed Zoe into a family bathroom. Brian locked the door behind them and looked between Amira, Vera, and Zoe.

"Most of you should be able to guess why you're here," Zoe said. "Vicky is alive and we know where she is."

Damien's legs gave out and he sobbed on the floor. Even though Brian knew she was alive, to have heard it with confidence from someone else confounded Brian. He waded in suspense, horror, relief, yearning. It ripped through him and put his hair on end.

"How the hell is she alive?" Vera quivered.

Amira interrupted, "More importantly, where is she? We need to get her back here!"

"It's not that simple," Zoe said. "Vicky is dead. She doesn't have a feasible body to return to, and that's just the beginning. The Aquino has her spirit."

Damien's fist crashed into the floor. It cracked the linoleum as he snarled. "They what?"

"Dahlia must've overheard about the lab robbery. So after Vicky killed someone, Dahlia leaked her identity and schedule so she could be taken out. The Aquino then took advantage of the situation and stole her soul to make her into a weapon against the LaVey. That's the gist of it, at least," Zoe explained.

"Okay, let's get her the fuck out before someone gets hurt!" Vera snapped. "Absolutely none of that matters. Vicky needs us now. We have to save her."

"It's not that simple," Damien grunted.

"Why's that?" Amira asked.

"Vicky isn't like Damien. She doesn't have a corporeal body. Without a body, she may not be able to leave Hell, and seeing as how her body is currently unsalvageable without a brain, I doubt that we can do anything."

Brian's knees couldn't take the weight of his heartache. He sunk to the floor. It was hopeless. Vicky was so close, and yet so far away.

"Take it," Vera said.

"Absolutely not," Zoe snapped.

"Shut up! I don't care what it takes. Take my soul, my life, my empire. I know you can help us. I know you can fix her body"

"Vera, what the hell are you doing? Do you understand what you're saying?" Amira gawked.

"Can it, Amira!" Vera screamed. "It's my fault Vicky died. I got greedy and careless. I'm going to be responsible for bringing her back now, too."

Brian watched with bated breath. He was a horrible friend to hope Zoe agreed. He needed Vicky there. He needed her back.

Zoe finally nodded. He sobbed with Damien, from grief and relief, and thanked them for their generosity.

---

Vicky fell

and fell

and fell.

She must have fallen for days. The winds were so strong she couldn’t even open her eyes. Breathless, yet unsuffocated, she tumbled, and tumbled, and tumbled into bottomless oblivion, until oblivion caught her in leathery arms.

Vicky peeled her eyes open. Blue, horned creatures looked upon her oddly. Like hyenas.

“Dahlia, Is she alive?”

“What?” Vicky croaked. Her throat was dry, it hurt to speak.

They applauded. It sounded like drums underwater.

“Where am I?” Vicky pleaded, only to be drowned out by the jubilee. She freed herself. When her foot hit the damp stone, it crackled with electricity. She covered her ears, she hobbled and wobbled, before she screamed, “where am I?”

From her elbow and eye, lightning arced into the ground and ceiling. She screamed with the thunder, with the hammering of her head.

“Where am I?” she howled. “Where am I?”

It stormed without rain or clouds. She was in so much pain, she was so confused. Why did they applaud? Who was she, even?

“Enough!”

Vicky was suffocated by a dense fog, petrified and bent in horror. A second later, she collapsed and gasped for air. She was surrounded again. She felt like an animal in a zoo, without compassion or privacy.

“Out, everyone needs to leave! Give the poor thing some space.”

Vicky gazed upon a glistening demon without eyes and spotted ears that dragged on the floor. She almost wanted to dive into their arms like a child hid under their mother’s skirt.

“Berenice, what are you doing?” the enormous woman demon said. “We need to take her to my dad.”

“Look at the poor thing, Dahlia! She’s so overwhelmed. Let’s get her somewhere she can calm down and reorient herself.” Berenice picked Vicky off the floor.

“We can’t! She can reorient after she meets with Dad.”

Vicky looked to Berenice with fear and longing. It seemed like Berenice was Vicky’s only ally amid the petting zoo she was a part of. But even Berenice was helpless against an army.

“I’ll be okay,” Vicky told Berenice. “It’s just a man I’m meeting, right?”

“It’s a king.”

Kings bled, Vicky told herself. Nonetheless, she was afraid.