#and i thought that i should add that that of course doesn’t EXCUSE his horrific actions... i just want to explain the way in which barton-

[mad-hunts]

11. what would your muse consider their worst failing?

hello, @absensia, and happy sunday! thank you so much for the ask :D i just want y'all know that i appreciate every single one of these!! but alright, well... to tell you why barton views this particular thing as being his worst failing, i'm going to have to give you some backstory first. so please bear with me while i explain! so, as you may or may not know, barton currently has four kids. two of which are biologically related to him and the other two being adopted. though, back whenever he was first starting off as the dollmaker, barton actually had five kids. and this fifth child he had was named julien.

julien was different from the rest of his siblings, like jack is, in the way that he seemed to have experienced some form of trauma before barton had even adopted him that caused him to be very sensitive in relation to other people's emotions and actually made him act a bit jumpy. but this didn't change the fact that julien was kind of affectionately regarded as ' the best of all of them ' by barton's other kids whenever he was still around; and that was because julien would often try to protect his siblings, even in situations where he could get severely hurt, and he seemed to have this sort - of mellowing affect on barton because of just how likeable of a person he was.

the best way that i could describe what made him so special is that he was SUCH a good listener and had a way of making people feel welcome around him, which may be a bit surprising to hear considering the often dark + terribly gory reputation of the mathis family, but julien also really didn't like what he had to do while he was a part of their family sometimes. so you can imagine that whenever barton lost him to someone as sadistic as the joker... he was beyond devastated. not only because julien was like a figure of light in a family that could be the epitome of overwhelming despair, but because barton was the one who told him to go assist the joker with one of his ' schemes, ' as the man had contracted his help to do a rather grisly act to him — which would be to cut off his face — and julien had never come back from that meeting with him.

and although one could make the argument that barton couldn't have possibly known that that would happen, especially considering that he didn't know the full extent of just how bad the joker was at the time, he still very much blames himself for it. because barton believed that he should've known better in the end and gone there himself instead of treating this job like it'd be like any other one that they'd done, when it really wasn't. now just to give you some more context before i go on; if there's one thing you should know about barton, it's that his relationship with his children are probably his most complicated, so i do believe he does hold some kind of genuine love for them... but it's not a love that anyone can easily understand and one that likely isn't healthy at least half the time either.

but he felt legitimately torn up inside about it even a year later, and today, it's still isn't something that he likes to talk about. it was by far his greatest failure both as a father and as a person in his eyes. plus, knowing the fact that julien died alone and probably in a lot of pain, too? it was so painful for him that barton would swear up and down that it felt akin to someone shooting him right through the heart. so, if you were to ask him what he would do if he could go back in time and change one thing about his past, barton's answer wouldn't be that he would save himself from the cruelty of having to grow up under wesley's roof, or to make it so that his mom didn't have to leave him and he'd actually get to know her, or even to spend more a little more time with marcy... though, trust me, he has thought about all of those things.

it would be that he'd save julien. because he deserved so much better, in his eyes, than to be killed at the age of seventeen whenever he still had his whole life ahead of him and to have his comments about him being scared to go confront the joker completely dismissed. and this is also something that barton hates himself for. how to feels to have your feelings disregarded is something that barton is shocking familiar with, after all, and it's not a good feeling at all. but the fact remains that he can't do anything about his death now. all barton can do is grieve him at night, whenever he has no choice but to be alone with his thoughts, and he looks at past photographs of their entire family that have long since faded. of julien.

[goaskbarnes]

Grumpy Sergeant

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Peter x Reader (platonic)

Summary/Request: Ooo we can request???? Maybe reader being best friends with Peter and Bucky getting super jealous because he wants to date reader but thinks Peter is her boyfriend 🤷🏻‍♀️ via anonymous

Warnings: jealous!Bucky, language, fluffy ending

Words: 1399

Authors Notes: Thank you so much for this request! Really hope I did justice and you like it anon! ☺️ the dumb side of me didn’t know if you meant Peter Parker or Peter Quill 🙈

If only that phrase Sam used often ‘if looks could kill they would be dead by now’ was true, then Bucky wouldn’t be here worrying about Peter.

Bucky has been watching the two of you hang out almost everyday for the past couple of days. You’re one of his best friends and knew if something was going on you might have said something, but since you haven’t, Bucky can’t ignore the annoying nagging feeling in the back of his mind.

You look far too comfortable in each other’s presence for anything to be platonic. Peter was constantly touching your arm or you would laugh at his really ridiculous jokes that weren’t even close to funny. Bucky didn’t understand it, and as the days went on, he thought more about it. The more he thought about it, the more moody he became.

Bucky’s had a thing for you for some time now, you’re his ray of sunshine on a rainy day. And since Peter has been in the picture, you’ve kind of disappeared from his routine and he doesn’t like that, he doesn’t like that at all.

“Do you want a drink?” You ask Peter, standing up from the couch and stretching your arms above your head. Your shirt rises up, and Bucky notices Peter’s eyes on your exposed skin.

“Oh! Yes, can I have some ice water?” He licks his dry lips and focuses on something else. You nod and practically skip into the kitchen area.

“Hi Bucky!” You cheerfully say, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and kissing his cheek, something you do all too often. Bucky smirks when he sees Peter looking at your interaction.

“Hi Y/N. It feels like it’s been a long, long time since I saw you.” He says, tapping his metal fingers against the marble counter. His eyes follow you around the kitchen, and watches you prepare two glasses of ice water. You’re taken aback by him using your name, usually he would give you one of his infamous pet names - your favourite being ‘sugar’ or ‘sweetheart’.

“We should hang out soon.” You say, dunking some ice into the glasses.

Bucky grunts in response, knowing full well that’s not going to happen any time soon. You don’t think to question the grunt, it wasn’t unusual for Bucky to have off days.

A couple more days pass and Bucky’s moods just deteriorate even further to the point he’s snapping at Steve almost constantly. The recent snap was in the gym, Bucky was getting pissed off with Steve’s orders on what to do.

“I know what to fucking do! Do you think I’m some kind of idiot?” Bucky rages, throwing the dumbbell down on the ground that it echoed off an horrific hang against the four grey walls.

Steve shakes his head, he’s used to his friend’s outbursts by now. But this was something else.

“What is wrong with you? Are you having nightmares again?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and is about to give it to Steve when the sound of your laughter fills his ear as you step into the gym with… surprise… Peter on your tail.

“And that’s what I said!” Peter finishes his story with a laugh. Your hand is on your chest from laughing too much.

Steve quickly connects the door and pats his friend on the shoulder.

“You know, it’s not what it looks like, right?” Steve asks in a hushed voice.

“And how would you know that?” Bucky frowns, his body language suggesting he’s about to implode with rage.

“I just do.” Steve shrugs and Bucky wants to punch the smug grin off his face. You catch his eye as you skip past the super soldiers. The tension is thick in the air that it’s almost suffocating you.

“Everything okay?” You ask, wrapping your earphones around your neck and shifting your focus from one soldier to the other. Steve shrugs while Bucky seems uninterested in your presence. Since that day in the kitchen, he’s been more and more distant with you.

“What’s it to you?” Bucky asks with a grunt. Again, you’re taken aback by his tone, making you step away and downcast your eyes to the floor. “And besides, your boyfriend over there is waiting for you.” He adds with a huff, your eyes widen in surprise but he’s already out of the door before you can correct him. You look back to Steve who offers an apologetic smile for Bucky’s mood, one you don’t accept because he couldn’t have gotten the information more wrong if he had tried.

Peter was your best friend and he was like a brother to you. It was strictly platonic, and you weren't about to lose Bucky because of some misinformation he may have heard.

You look back at Peter who is waiting for you by the treadmills, you smile and throw him your unopened bottle of water. “I’ll be back soon, I’ve got to go and talk to him.” You smile sadly and Steve offers words of encouragement.

Turning on your heels, you sprint after Bucky, unaware of where he could have gone, you grab the attention of Friday.

“Friday, where is Sergeant Barnes?” You head is turning in every direction, peeping through the glass windows of the doors on your way through the hallway.

“Sergeant Barnes is in his room.” Of course he would be. He spends most of his time there hiding away from other people, especially during one of Tony’s extravagant events.

You head straight to his room, not bothering to talk and find him with his head in his hands, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I need to talk to you.” You say breathlessly from the running you just did to get here. Bucky looks up slowly and clasps his hands together before scoffing.

“I’m not the one you need relationship advice from. How come you never told me about him anyway?” You don’t appreciate the tone he’s using, treating you almost like a teenager who kept a relationship secret from their parents.

“Bucky… I’m not sure where you heard or who told you but it’s not what you think. Peter and I are just friends, that’s all we’ve ever been and that’s all we'll ever be. Peter is like my brother, and you’re- you-”

“I’m what?” Bucky asks standing from the bed and in front of you. His blue eyes seeping into yours and for a moment you forget where you are.

“You’re- you’re-.” It suddenly all clicked into place: his moods, his distancing, accusations that you were dating without asking you first. “You’re jealous.” A smile tugs at your lips and Bucky averts his gaze, something he regularly does when he’s been caught or is nervous.

“No I wasn’t.” He argues

“Yess you were. That’s why you were acting like a grumpy old man.” You tease, jabbing his chest and giggling. Your fingers squeeze his cheeks and laugh.

“Stop! Leave my cheeks alone. Anyway, why does it matter if I was jealous which by the way - I wasn’t.” He shifts on the balls of his feet and folds his arm.

“The real question is James, why were you jealous to begin with? Why did it matter to you if I was dating Peter which by the way - I’m not.” You mimic his words and grin.

He sighs in defeat and shakes his head. “Fine, I was jealous okay? But only because I’ve had a crush on you for a real long time and the thought of you in a relationship with someone else made me crazy because he wasn’t me. And it’s really selfish of me to act like that but-”

You cut his rambling off by pressing your lips to his and wrapping your arms around his neck, his folded arms digging into your chest and you smile against his lips when you pull away.

“Then you should have asked me out on a date instead of being so grumpy.”

“I’m not grum-” and each time an excuse flew from his lips, you would cut him off by kissing him until he finally sighed and rested his forehead against yours.

“Fine, will you go on a date with me then?” He rolls his eyes playfully, prompting you to do the same.

“Fine,” you mock with a smile. “Okay yes. If you stop being so jealous.”

“I wasn’t jealous.”

“Yes you were.”

Taglist: @writerssblockk @belovedadam

[thr-333]

Drastic Measures- Part 2

@daminette-december2019-2020

~Swordplay~

To summarise: I will have the love square one way or another!

Ao3

First >Next 

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

As far as homes go it’s pretty good” Adrien stretches out, Plagg curls up next to him.

“Don't get too comfortable we’re going to be on the move,” Marinette types furiously at her computer.

“I will try my hardest,” Adrien stares blankly at her, sat atop a pile of grubby blankets next to a broken window. Marinette loses connection to her computer and slams it shut with a huff.

“Get some sleep I’m going to find an internet cafe,” Marinette stuffs the cheap laptop into her bag, amazing how something she bought at a hole in the wall place for thirty bucks didn’t work well.

“Who needs sleep when you can have coffee,” Adrian stands up, ready to follow her.

“Sleep Chat,” She pushes him down by the shoulders, “I need my partner fully operational,”

“Yeah kid, take a break, we worked hard,” Plagg yawns, turning over.

“You also worked hard Bug,” Adrien lets himself be pushed back onto the blankets.

“I won't be able to sleep until I know how everything is in Paris,”

“Neither can I,” Adrien protests, already half asleep.

“Sure you can, night Chat,”

“Night M’lady,”

Marinette leaves the same way they came in, though the window. She has to slide down the gutter to get on the street, Tikki hiding away in her bag. She has to go pretty far in town to find a suitable cafe, too far from Adrien to be comfortable. Marinette pops in her earbuds before opening her computer to let her talk to Tikki freely.

She doesn't immediately search up missing person cases. Looking instead at Paris tourist destinations and guides. Switching to the dangers of traveling to Paris; the only mention of Akuma being on obscure question and answer sites. She looks at kidnapping potential and then moves onto missing person cases. Adrien's is the first to come up, obviously. 

There was lots of outcry among his fans. Many were throwing around accusations of foul play on Gabriel's part from abuse to locking Adrien away from the world. However, Gabriel was also fiercely looking for his son. Adrien hadn’t left behind any sort of note. Well only to Nino, which Adrien had told Marinette was asked not to mention to anyone.

Marinette then feels safe enough to look up her own case. It was smaller, although was gaining attention as Jagged proclaimed it to high heavens; more so asking what they did wrong and how they could fix it and asking for any sightings of her. That could be a problem if her picture was already around. Marinette pulls her hood up higher. They might have to get haircuts and wear disguises… on second thought wearing suspicious disguises in Gotham might cause more problems.

“Tikki they seem really worried,” Marinette watches the videos Jagged posted, her parents in the background running around talking with police.

“Of course they are Mari,” Marinette feels a light tap on her side, “But you're doing the right thing,”

“No I’m not,” not when she’s watching a video of her parents crying,  “I’m doing what needs to be done, this is my responsibility, no matter what a certain someone thinks,”

She spits with venom. Maybe Adriens rant last night rubbed off on her.

“He’s the hero here,” Tiki says non accusingly, “Imagine if another hero came to Paris without asking you… remember Volpina?”

“Ah now that was an actual villain,” Marinette hadn’t trusted her from the start,  “Plus she was akumatized,”

“Marinette,” Marinette can’t bring herself to feel guilty, even under tikis scolding.

“Right but that still doesn't give him the right,” Marinette huffs, “After all would he attack Marinette? No!”

“Are you implying you would attack Lila?”

“......... no,”

“Marinette,”

Marinetti smirks to herself instinctively looking around for Adrien to share her joke. Then Marinette froze. The cafe was empty, not even a barista. How had she not noticed!?

“Wait,” Marinetti says out loud before Tiki could talk, “I’m going to have to call you back, something just came up,”

Something was watching her from the kitchen door as if she couldn’t see them. Marinette tries to act normal going for the pepper on the table and putting it on her food. They move at the same time. The attacker runs towards her, Marinette throws the shaker at- Robin?! It hits him square in the forehead, with a curse he touches his bleeding forehead.

“I am so sorry!” Marinette panics, “That was meant to explode in your face!”

“How is that better?!” Robin runs forward, sword drawn. Marinette ducks behind the table grabbing her plate and frisbeeing it towards him, he manages to dodge this one, “Draw your weapon coward!"

“I don’t have a weapon!” She grabs the table cloth ready to take the vigilante down, “What is wrong with you?!”

He doesn't answer lunging at her again with the sword. Marinette kicks up the table then kicks it towards him in one swift movement. With the impact of the table he drops the sword, Marinette jumps up landing on the table which pins Robin down to the ground with its weight and hers, with the legs sticking up.

“I knew it,” Robin spits and she presses her weight into the table to keep him pinned.

“Excuse you,” Marinette catches his wrist as he tries to pull a dagger on her using the table cloth to tie it to the legs of the table, then does the same with the other, “You attacked me,”

“-Robin!” she hears a faint call, no one is around so it must be from his communicator, “-Robin report back to the cave!”

“I’ll take that~” Marinette sings songs ignoring how he growls at her. She rolls her eyes stepping off the table she needed to get out of here now.

She steps out of the cafe throwing the communicator and likely a tracking device too on the roof of a passing car then sprints in the opposite direction. She heads for the alleys looking for an area with no cameras as she runs. When she finds a spot Marinette transforms running back to their base with record timing.

“Adrien wake up!” Ladybug jumps through the window, barely avoiding landing on him, “Batman’s after us,”

“What?!” He sits bolt upright, Ladybug pulls him onto his feet.

“Move! Now!” She grabs their bags, Adrien transforms and they take off over the rooftops.

“What happened?!” Chat shouts as the runaway, “Is Batman chasing us?”

“Yes, well kinda-- Robin tried to kill me,”

“He what?!”

“As Marinette,” She adds, slowing down as they should have put enough distance between them.

“Did they figure us out already?” Chat Noir slows down into a walk then collapses on the rooftop,

"Probably,"

“This is the worst wake up call ever!”

“Well, it's about to get worse,” Ladybug cringes feeling the distinct trace of magic she was all too familiar with.

“Akuma?”

“Akuma,”

“Great, perfect,” Chat complains standing back up.

“At least we’re not at school,” Ladybug shrugs, launching herself over a roof.

“No you’re right being chased by a masked vigilante is a massive improvement,”

---

Wow

“Robin! Get your head out of the clouds and get over here!”

Damian breaks out of his trance, regrettably tearing his gaze away from Ladybug to the much less awe inspiring sight of Batman trapped under a car. They shouldn’t be wasting their time worrying about these established amazing hero’s and worry about that assassin on the loose. Who knows who she was after. She could be planning Batman’s demise at this very moment; if she was close with his mother then surely she knew their identities which was far far more dangerous.

Ladybug could handle herself as evidence by her going toe to toe with the newest villain. In a matter of minutes, the villain was down for the count with no help on their part. 

“Ladybug!” He calls before she leaves again, maybe she could help him convince his father that he was being an absolute buffoon.

“Oh it’s you,” She says surprisingly coldly, “What do you want now?”

“Now?”

“Are, you here to attack me again?”

“... I didn’t attack you?” He had spent all morning tracking down a dangerous assassin.

“... Oh! Of course, you did- haha I just ummmm-- there must have been an… Akuma! Yes! There must have been an Akuma earlier that looked like you,”

“An Akuma was impersonating me?” Robin growls.

“Yeah, they do that sometimes,” Chat Noir pipes up, “It’s annoying,”

“Yes and if you’re here, that uh… that means the Akuma is still out there so we gotta go deal with that so-bye!” Ladybug swings off closely followed by Chat Nor; off to go save his name and reputation.

---

“So you really think that was an Akuma?” Adrien asks as they transform back.

“Maybe- I don’t know it was just an excuse so he wouldn't figure out my identity,”

“Well at least he doesn't know it,” Adrien shrugs as they walk through the alleys in search of a new place to rest that night.

“If he doesn't know then why would he attack Marinette?” She asks, “And if it was an Akuma that means Hawkmoth knows my identity which is so much worse!”

“Is it tho?”

“Chat,”

“I mean back in Paris it would have been bad,” They both cringe, “But here we have no home, no family, no friends! He cant use any of that against us now!”

Adrien beams his contagious smile.

“You always manage to find a bright side,” Marinette smirks punching him in the shoulder.

“So that's why,” They both turn around, staring in shock.

“Batman?!” Turning back their way out is already blocked by mister boy wonder. Who, by the way he is glaring at her, was not an Akuma this morning.

“I can't believe Talia called me because some teenagers were eloping,”

I know that name- WAIT!

“Eloping?!” Marinette chokes, “We are not eloping!”

“As in not at all,” Adrien blanches, “And I mean no offense Marinette you are literally the sweetest person but I can’t imagine anything more horrific!”

“Oh god, same!” At least now, “I mean once when we were younger…-- it was a silly crush!”

“Wait you had a crush on me?!”

“Yeah, well, you had a crush on me!”

“... oh god… I did, didn’t I?!”

While Adrien is dealing with that little revelation Marinette looks around for an escape. There isn’t much opportunity since both have their eyes on them, partly out of morbid curiosity at their little freakout. Well if you don't have a distraction homemade is fine.

“AKUMA!” They both look, predictably. 

Marinette grabs Adrien and runs. She goes for the side Robins guarding, sweeping his legs sending him crashing to the ground.

“I’m not sorry!” Marinette calls as they sprint down the alley.

Marinette heads for the main street, enough of a crowd to camouflage. As they are walking through as casually as possible Marinette sweeps them both for bugs putting any she finds on random passerbys. They walk sometimes ducking into busy shops in hopes of losing their trail. They come across the mall which works perfectly for them. They stay until it starts to approach closing time, it’s easy enough to avoid security and so they get locked in for the night.

“So what do you want to do?!” They walk through the empty halls Adrien skipping along and looking at each display. Marinette stops outside an electronics store, the tv’s still on and displaying the news.

“Make a plan for a way to deal with that,” On-screen are the two of them, a video of Ladybug throwing a car at Batman, “This is taken completely out of context!”

“What’s the context?” 

“Batman was being a little bitch!”

“I’m sure that will hold up in court,” Adrien laughs taking a seat in one of those massage chairs, “Besides what's the problem?”

“The problem?!” Marinette yells, “The problem is that now all of Gotham is going to hate us!”

“So? Do we really need them to like us?” Adrien gets up to stand by her, rubbing her shoulder.

“They did in Paris,”

“We’re not in Paris anymore,” Adrien says quietly, leading her towards the seats, “We have a chance to start new again, everyday something we haven't done before, a couple of pals living day to day on the edge, isn’t that exciting?”

“I just--” want to go home, “I’m tired,”

“Take a break,” Adrien sits her down in the massage chair with a kind smile, “I’ll keep watch,”

“.. ok,” Marinette curls up in the chair Tikki coming to lie beside her. With not much strength to fight it, Marinette falls asleep while she can.

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

Taglist? nope don’t have one, horrible at keeping track of them sorry~

[hockeysweetheart]

I was thinking about Katniss saying she never wanted to have children. I noticed most of the time she said she never wanted kids Gale was involved. Yes there are points fear yes if her and Peeta had kids with Snow in power. Her children would have a one way ticket to the games.  But after the Peeta’s baby bomb she was like okay didn’t expect then then very shortly after she’s like well the damage is done thank god I had no say in this. and Then a few chapters later she was like it’s not my plan to have kids with Gale your crazy. 2 seconds later oh I dream of a world Peeta’s child is safe. 

Okay Katniss who knew Gale better but Peeta longer. She is totally like me Marry Gale ahahaha your so Funny Me Have his children pfft not a freaking Chance. But when it comes to Peeta she could of denied it but she didn’t. sure she said “it’s for an act” but she knows she was fooling herself saying that because of the sheer fact that she was like well he’s not that bad... blushes...  plus  she never worked up any excuse for Hey Peeta   we over. Because I truely beileve she  had feeling for him the whole damn time.  and when it came to Gale she’s like were friends. Peeta it’s like oh my god you saved my life I can’t live without you. ( without admitting shes in love with him).  becuase lord knows how long that took.  anyways I got off track a bit.  

I’ll say this again  she wanted to be with Gale because it would be the biggest slap in the face to the Capitol but she couldn’t let go of Peeta.  without Fail every single  time she had sparks with Gale  her Feelings for Peeta were not far behind.  Plus she totally burned that bridge when Gale came out as a player.  but It’s Gale confusing Katniss when they kissed. Because not once before the games did he say btw I like you any sign of it that Katniss caught on.  Whereas Peeta is flirting with Katniss the whole freaking time. and yes Katniss is a little slow to catch on so slow in fact it took Peeta  to tell the whole  world that he’s madly in love with the world before she realized that he was just a boy in love with me. ( in fact it took her longer to realize that).  

Okay Katniss is a bit slow to show it. But some kisses were for I couldn’t do this without you. That beach kiss was all love sweetheart ( at that point we all knew that Peeta won Katniss’s heart.)  But like Gale literally almost got whipped to death and her reaction was like was like just give him the meds to knock him out let him slip away. and for Peeta when he hit that force field it’s like  oh my god I cannot live without you. Don’t ever do that again. and like later without Peeta I’ll never be truely happy again. I do I need you. I’ll be damaged beyond repare with you gone.

Below are some refences I pulled up of The whole “ not having kids or marrying to doing both”  subject... 

chapter 1  the hunger games 

"We could do it, you know," Gale says quietly. "What?" I ask. "Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it," says Gale. I don't know how to respond. The idea is so preposterous. "If we didn't have so many kids," he adds quickly. They're not our kids, of course. But they might as well be. Gale's two little brothers and a sister. Prim. And you may as well throw in our mothers, too, because how would they live without us? Who would fill those mouths that are always asking for more? With both of us hunting daily, there are still nights when game has to be swapped for lard or shoelaces or wool, still nights when we go to bed with our stomachs growling. "I never want to have kids," I say. "I might. If I didn't live here," says Gale. "But you do," I say, irritated. "Forget it," he snaps back. The conversation feels all wrong. Leave? How could I leave Prim, who is the only person in the world I'm certain I love? And Gale is devoted to his family. We can't leave, so why bother talking about it? And even if we did. even if we did. where did this stuff about having kids come from? There's never been anything romantic between Gale and me. When we met, I was a skinny twelve-year-old, and although he was only two years older, he already looked like a man. It took a long time for us to even become friends, to stop haggling over every trade and begin helping each other out. Besides, if he wants kids, Gale won't have any trouble finding a wife. He's good-looking, he's strong enough to handle the work in the mines, and he can hunt. You can tell by the way the girls whisper about him when he walks by in school that they want him. It makes me jealous but not for the reason people would think. Good hunting partners are hard to find.

the hunger games chapter 3 

Finally, Gale is here and maybe there is nothing romantic between us, but when he opens his arms I don't hesitate to go into them. His body is familiar to me  -  the way it moves, the smell of wood smoke, even the sound of his heart beating I know from quiet moments on a hunt  -  but this is the first time I really feel it, lean and hard-muscled against my own.

the hunger games chapter 10

I don't know what to think. "I should have been told, so I didn't look so stupid." "No, your reaction was perfect. If you'd known, it wouldn't have read as real," says Portia. "She's just worried about her boyfriend," says Peeta gruffly, tossing away a bloody piece of the urn. My cheeks burn again at the thought of Gale. "I don't have a boyfriend." "Whatever," says Peeta. "But I bet he's smart enough to know a bluff when he sees it. Besides you didn't say you loved me. So what does it matter?" The words are sinking in. My anger fading. I'm torn now between thinking I've been used and thinking I've been given an edge. Haymitch is right. I survived my interview, but what was I really? A silly girl spinning in a sparkling, dress. Giggling. The only moment of any substance I hail was when I talked about Prim. Compare that with Thresh, his silent, deadly power, and I'm forgettable. Silly and sparkly and forgettable. No, not entirely forgettable, I have my eleven in training.

the hunger games chapter 23 

Four of us left.

For the first time, I allow myself to truly think about the possibility that I might make it home. To fame. To wealth. To my own house in the Victor's Village. My mother and Prim would live there with me. No more fear of hunger. A new kind of freedom. But then. what? What would my life be like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I'm not really sure who I am, what my identity is. The idea scares me some. I think of Haymitch, with all his money. What did his life become? He lives alone, no wife or children, most of his waking hours drunk. I don't want to end up like that.

"But you won't be alone," I whisper to myself. I have my mother and Prim. Well, for the time being. And then. I don't want to think about then, when Prim has grown up, my mother passed away. I know I'll never marry, never risk bringing a child into the world. Because if there's one thing being a victor doesn't guarantee, it's your children's safety. My kids' names would go right into the reaping balls with everyone else's. And I swear I'll never let that happen.

catching fire chapter 2 ( this was what katniss was gonna say to gale after he kissed her)

That week I managed the snares and dropped off the meat with Hazelle. But I didn't see Gale until Sunday. I had this whole speech worked out, about how I didn't want a boyfriend and never planned on marrying, but I didn't end up using it. Gale acted as if the kiss had never happened.

Maybe he was waiting for me to say something. Or kiss him back. Instead I just pretended it had never happened, either. But it had. Gale had shattered some invisible barrier between us and, with it, any hope I had of resuming our old, uncomplicated friendship. Whatever I pretended, I could never look at his lips in quite the same way.

catching fire chapter 4 

In my room, I remove my sodden slippers, my wet robe and pajamas. There are more in the drawers but I just crawl between the covers of my bed in my underclothes. I stare into the darkness, thinking about my conversation with Haymitch. Everything he said was true about the Capitol's expectations, my future with Peeta, even his last comment. Of course, I could do a lot worse than Peeta. That isn't really the point, though, is it? One of the few freedoms we have in District 12 is the right to marry who we want or not marry at all. And now even that has been taken away from me. I wonder if President Snow will insist we have children. If we do, they'll have to face the reaping each year. And wouldn't it be something to see the child of not one but two victors chosen for the arena? Victors' children have been in the ring before. It always causes a lot of excitement and generates talk about how the odds are not in that family's favor. But it happens too frequently to just be about odds. Gale's convinced the Capitol does it on purpose, rigs the drawings to add extra drama. Given all the trouble I've caused, I've probably guaranteed any child of mine a spot in the Games.

catching fire chapter 18 

There. He's done it again. Dropped a bomb that wipes out the efforts of every tribute who came before him. Well, maybe not. Maybe this year he has only lit the fuse on a bomb that the victors themselves have been building. Hoping someone would be able to detonate it. Perhaps thinking it would be me in my bridal gown. Not knowing how much I rely on Cinna's talents, whereas Peeta needs nothing more than his wits. As the bomb explodes, it sends accusations of injustice and barbarism and cruelty flying out in every direction. Even the most Capitol-loving, Games-hungry, bloodthirsty person out there can't ignore, at least for a moment, how horrific the whole thing is. I am pregnant. The audience can't absorb the news right away. It has to strike them and sink in and be confirmed by other voices before they begin to sound like a herd of wounded animals, moaning, shrieking, calling for help. And me? I know my face is projected in a tight close-up on the screen, but I don't make any effort to hide it. Because for a moment, even I am working through what Peeta has said. Isn't it the thing I dreaded most about the wedding, about the future - the loss of my children to the Games? And it could be true now, couldn't it? If I hadn't spent my life building up layers of defenses until I recoil at even the suggestion of marriage or a family?

The moment we step off the elevator, Peeta grips my shoulders. "There isn't much time, so tell me. Is there anything I have to apologize for?"

"Nothing," I say. It was a big leap to take without my okay, but I'm just as glad I didn't know, didn't have time to second-guess him, to let any guilt over Gale detract from how I really feel about what Peeta did. Which is empowered.

catching fire chapter 24

Peeta won't let him, though. "It's too dangerous," he says. "I'm not tired. You lie down, Katniss." I don't object because I do need to sleep if I'm to be of any use keeping him alive. I let him lead me over to where the others are. He puts the chain with the locket around my neck, then rests his hand over the spot where our baby would be. "You're going to make a great mother, you know," he says. He kisses me one last time and goes back to Finnick. His reference to the baby signals that our time-out from the Games is over. That he knows the audience will be wondering why he hasn't used the most persuasive argument in his arsenal. That sponsors must be manipulated. But as I stretch out on the sand I wonder, could it be more? Like a reminder to me that I could still one day have kids with Gale? Well, if that was it, it was a mistake. Because for one thing, that's never been part of my plan. And for another, if only one of us can be a parent, anyone can see it should be Peeta. As I drift off, I try to imagine that world, somewhere in the future, with no Games, no Capitol. A place like the meadow in the song I sang to Rue as she died. Where Peeta's child could be safe.

mockingjay chapter 3 

I skim my list. "Gale. I'll need him with me to do this." "With you how? Off camera? By your side at all times? Do you want him presented as your new lover?" Coin asks. She hasn't said this with any particular malice - quite the contrary, her words are very matter-of-fact. But my mouth still drops open in shock. "What?" "I think we should continue the current romance. A quick defection from Peeta could cause the audience to lose sympathy for her," says Plutarch. "Especially since they think she's pregnant with his child." "Agreed. So, on-screen, Gale can simply be portrayed as a fellow rebel. Is that all right?" says Coin. I just stare at her. She repeats herself impatiently. "For Gale. Will that be sufficient?" "We can always work him in as your cousin," says Fulvia.

"We're not cousins," Gale and I say together.

"Right, but we should probably keep that up for appearances' sake on camera," says Plutarch. "Off camera, he's all yours. Anything else?"

I'm rattled by the turn in the conversation. The implications that I could so readily dispose of Peeta, that I'm in love with Gale, that the whole thing has been an act. My cheeks begin to burn. The very notion that I'm devoting any thought to who I want presented as my lover, given our current circumstances, is demeaning. I let my anger propel me into my greatest demand. "When the war is over, if we've won, Peeta will be pardoned."

Dead silence. I feel Gale's body tense. I guess I should have told him before, but I wasn't sure how he'd respond. Not when it involved Peeta.

mockingjay

They play in the Meadow. The dancing girl with the dark hair and blue eyes. The boy with blond curls and gray eyes, struggling to keep up with her on his chubby toddler legs. It took five, ten, fifteen years for me to agree. But Peeta wanted them so badly. When I first felt her stirring inside of me, I was consumed with a terror that felt as old as life itself. Only the joy of holding her in my arms could tame it. Carrying him was a little easier, but not much.

The questions are just beginning. The arenas have been completely destroyed, the memorials built, there are no more Hunger Games. But they teach about them at school, and the girl knows we played a role in them. The boy will know in a few years. How can I tell them about that world without frightening them to death? My children, who take the words of the song for granted:

My children, who don't know they play on a graveyard. Peeta says it will be okay. We have each other. And the book. We can make them understand in a way that will make them braver. But one day I'll have to explain about my nightmares. Why they came. Why they won't ever really go away. I'll tell them how I survive it. I'll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I'm afraid it could be taken away. That's when I make a list in my head of every act of goodness I've seen someone do. It's like a game. Repetitive. Even a little tedious after more than twenty years. But there are much worse games to play.

[not-from-the-absence-of-violence]

Guiltless

Summary: Virgil, Roman and Logan need some time to themselves tonight, Patton has other plans.

Pairings: Backround Loceit

Warnings: angst, unsympathetic Patton, mentions of Deceit, very brief mention of Remus, mentions of sensory overload, mentions of RSD and let me know if I missed anything!

a/n: Hey everyone! This is the first fanfic I ever posted, I hope you all like it. reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :). Thank you  @snixxxsmythe for beta reading <3

you can also find it on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/19870198

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

Virgil slowly makes it to Patton's room, anxiety bubbling in his chest.

He tries to tell himself that it's normal that he's afraid of “confronting” Patton like this.

Because he's Anxiety, after all, and he cares about Patton, and disappointing or making him mad will make him feel bad, for obvious reasons.

 You wouldn't feel this way if it was Logan or Roman, his mind helpfully tells him.

What way? he asks himself.

 “Hey kiddo! You need anything?”

 Patton's voice is sickly sweet, it fills the air just like a fresh batch of cookies.

Guilty. Oh so guilty.

Patton is smiling at him, carefree. Cleary he hasn't been noticing Thomas’ feelings, his feelings.

Or maybe he has, and he just doesn't care.

Virgil shoves the thought down.

 “Well, I do actually, need something, that is, sorta.”

 A flush creeps onto his cheeks. Pattons laugh rings like bells.

 “Ask away.”

 He takes a breath, this should be easier, he's been practicing this for God's sake!

 “You need to let Thomas take a break!” he blurts out.

 Patton looks, well mildly surprised, but mostly he looks amused. Amused.

 “Seems like something you should ask Logan.”

 His tone is light. Virgil he can't help but feel it's the way one would talk to a small child, go talk to your other parent about it.

 But of course if he explains it Patton will understand.

 “Usually, yes. But this is the fourth time this week Thomas has agreed to help one of his friends. Tomorrow we have a get together and we are helping put some furniture together. It's draining him.” he adds a whisper, almost an afterthought. “Its draining me.”

 “You don’t think Thomas’ friends are important?”

 Virgil wants to be surprised, shocked Patton would say something like this.

It feels almost worse than he expected.

It doesn't mean he doesn't feel guilty, perhaps it's the sweetness in Patton's voice, his guiltless smile.

 “Of course, but Thomas is important too.”

 “You sound almost like Deceit.”

 He says it in a joking way, something to brush off.

There is no way Patton doesn't know how on many levels that hits him.

“But maybe you're right, I'll try better in the future, I’m sorry.”

 His tone isn't serious enough, although perhaps that is just Virgil's own imagination.

He'll take what he can anyway.

 “Oh,” he remembered “I also won't be at dinner tonight. I just need some time to myself.”

 It's an understatement, between Thomas not getting any alone time, the pressure to get the next video out and him not getting any rest Virgil was jittery, tired and very overstimulated.

Pattons smile shifts to a hurt expression, it's not even anger, just hurt.

 “OK.”

The word lingers, and there is almost hope rising in Virgil.

 “Although-”

It shatters like glass.

 ”I would say dining with your family would make you feel better.”

 He wishes it sounded passive-aggressive, it doesn't. It sounds just as sweet as anything else Patton says, sweet and perfect.

 Something in him wants to argue, it really does. He knows Patton is wrong.

But he's too tired to argue. 

 “Sure, I’ll help set the table.”

 Patton beams at him.

 “Thanks Virgil, I know you do care about your friends. ”

 It stings, but it's impossible to get moral high ground when debating Morality.

So he doesn't try.

 -----------------

When Roman is working, he feels like he's flying. Sometimes he even is literally flying! How great it is to work in the imagination.

When I am done this will be one of the best things I have made, surely! he thinks, enjoying the feeling of new exciting projects rushing through his veins

 Yes, he just needs to add some-

 He is abruptly cut off by loud knocking on the door.

It yanks him out of his concentration, and then he's literally falling out of the imagination roughly onto his bedroom floor.

 For a second he's too perplexed to think.

 Then he's confused, he has asked the rest not to disturb him while working for exactly this reason. In fact, he had told them today at lunch.

 Perhaps he has been working an unhealthy amount of time and someone is legitimately worried.

He checks the time. No, he has been working a few hours, nothing too bad.

So he goes to the door, mostly annoyed, kind of pissed.

 He is then met with Patton's lovely face.

He doesn’t stop being pissed, but he does promptly swallow whatever he was going to say.

 “Ah, Patton, what brings you to my castle on this fine evening?” he says instead.

 Patton giggles.

 “Just wanted to say dinner is almost ready!”

 Hadn't he said at lunch that he would be working? Perhaps Patton had forgotten.

 “Ah, well, you see, I just started working on my new project! I'm afraid if I stop, I'll just lose my flow, you know?”

 Patton’s disappointment is very tangible, perhaps it is because they're in Romans room, perhaps it's that Patton is emotions, to some extent.

 Whatever it is, it fills the air, and Roman isn't not sure he can breathe anymore.

 “Oh.”

 “Are you mad?”

 Roman does not mean for it to sound desperate.

 “I mean, i'm just disappointed-”

 Whatever else Patton says is left unheard, for Roman feels as he has been stabbed.

Or it could be worse, the sharp pain in his chest. It spreads, hot and thick, burning through his body.

He feels himself blush in deep, deep shame.

 He feels dizzy, he might faint, shut down.

 God it hurts, he feels tears threatening to fall.

 He shouldn't have disappointed anyone.

 He hates this feeling and he hates himself.

 What had Logan called it, the one time he had dared to ever explain it? Rejection sensitive something.

 It didn't matter, the only thing that mattered was that he wanted to go back into his room, hide, maybe for a bit, maybe forever.

 “Ok, understand, I'll come down in a minute,” he says, because what else can he say?

 Patton smiles at him, brilliant, sweet, guiltless.

 “Great!”

 It's only later that Roman will wonder. Because Patton knows, he knows how those words sting Roman.

 Surely he must have forgotten.

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

It's no secret that Logan is an introvert, it's also no secret that Logan gets frustrated more easily than one might think.

 The last week has not been particularly fun for him.

 Patton had unrelentingly decided to skip on important planning for future videos and time for Thomas to rest and recharge. They had all let him.

Logan isn't sure what to do about it. Not knowing things was not helping.

 Logan didn't like the state Thomas was in.

It made him slow, drowsy and, although he did not usually admit it, snappish.

 But it was fine, tonight Logan was going to start his own personal planning for the new video.

Then he was going to go to sleep early.

 Or maybe not, maybe he would go to Deceit's room and rant for a while, that was always surprisingly cathartic. Then sleep, not so early.

 Then Patton knocked on his door. He knew it was Patton, recognizing the knocking patterns that he'd memorised by now.

 Well, there goes his planning.

 “Yes, come in Patton.”

 Patton looks all the same as always, a nice easy smile on his face, the smile of someone who knows they're going to get exactly what they want.

 “Just making sure you know dinner is almost ready!”

 Logan knew this, he also expected a reminder.

 “Well, as I have communicated before, tonight I would prefer to eat alone.”

 He looks at Patton, and kind of wished he hadn't.

 Patton is angry, although to anyone else he may seem frustrated at most.

But it's Patton, even the tiniest bit of anger on his face can be terrifying, real, unusual.

 Patton, after all, was at the core of many of Thomas’ emotions.

When he had said it that time, it was meant as a careful reminder.

 In Logan's mind the memory sounded vaguely like a threat.

 Patton was a little too cheery sometimes, happiness crackling through him like waves. At times, sadness hit him harder than the rest, harder than any fake smile could cure.

 But no one had ever seen Patton truly angry.

 It was one of the only things that made Logan fearful.

He did not want to be the one to set it off.

 So Patton just looks at him briefly, for a few seconds.

He doesn’t even need to say anything.

 “On second thought, I am sure a familial meal would be pleasant.”

 Patton’s anger is gone as soon as it appeared, leaving Logan to wonder if it was ever there.

 “I'm glad, everyone is going to be there!” He smiles, satisfaction plain as day.

 Logan hopes somewhere this will not be as horrific as he thought.

 “Will Deceit be joining us too, then?”

 Patton smiles thins.

 “No.”

 Logic reasons, that obviously he has asked Deceit- they all agreed to make an effort to understand him better, after all- but Deceit has successfully avoided coming.

 Perhaps it’s just hopeful thinking.

 “Well, maybe he will agree when you ask him next time.”

 “Oh, I didn't ask him.”

 It's said in a nice, cheery voice. No explanation, malice or thought.

 Logan and Patton walk downstairs.

 In all honesty, Logan hopes Remus comes in to wreak some havoc, at least he would have an excuse to leave.

------------------------------- 

Dinner is simply the best, for Patton.

 He chats excitedly about one thing after another, how fun it is that Thomas is going out tonight, how amazing it is that they can go see Joan tomorrow.

 He doesn’t notice how every noise, every movement hits Virgil like knives. He doesn't notice how he flinches, how he is desperately tapping a breathing pattern into the table. It’s way too much, yet Patton doesn't see.

 He doesn’t notice Logan frustratingly fidgeting with his tie. His eyes closing a little longer than usual, it's either exhaustion or understimulation. Either way, Patton doesn’t see.

 Maybe he just didn’t look, because he does notice Roman spacing out, bouncing his leg.

 “Did you hear me there Roman,” it sounds soft, “I asked you something.”

 Romans face is pale, shame clear on his face.

 Virgil is afraid that if he says anything he'll break, Logan isn't sure what he can do.

 So they quickly eat in the silence of Patton’s empty chatter.

 “Well that was fun, maybe we should do more things together!”

 No one points out that they eat together almost every day.

-------

That night Virgil storms into his room, breaking down immediately, his tears stinging his cheeks, making the oversensitivity so much worse.

 He basically throws his clothes off, the fabric rough and agonizing against his skin.

His weighted blanket offers little comfort.

 Eventually out of sheer exhaustion he collapses on his tear stained pillow, restless.

 Tomorrow he'll stay in his room, the door locked, mostly sleeping.

Hopefully he'll feel better by noon.

  That night Logan quietly makes it to Deceit's room, falling into the other side's arms.

 He rants for a while, and Deceit listens while he ruffles Logan's hair and holds him.

Deceit knows, and Deceit understands.

 They fall asleep tangled up with each other, Logan can't bring himself to care about whether the others will find them, they're well hidden after all.

  That night Roman tries to get back to work, but the concentration doesn't come.

He wants to scream, but he's afraid Patton may somehow hear him.

 Instead he throws his pen to the wall and goes to kill a dragon.

 He doesn't sleep.

He will not come back from his quest the next morning.

  That night Patton does the dishes, then he goes to bed.

He sleeps on time and easily.

When he wakes up he wonders why no one shows up for breakfast.

He'll go ask them. 

[angelofthequeers]

Hold Me By Both Hands: Chapter 37

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Why yes, as much as I love Lady Noire with all my heart, I’m slightly creeped out by the fact that her outfit is a leather suit that’s so skin-tight that it makes her boobs pop and her belly button visible. When she’s FIFTEEN. (Or 14. I don’t even know their ages anymore).

Chapter 36 | Chapter 38 | AO3 link

His lady. Marinette. His lady is Marinette. How had Misterbug never seen it before? The same pigtails, dark as night; the same angular eyes that shine with a determined ferocity that’s always struck him as familiar, even if he’d never quite figured out why. Even though those eyes are now the cat-like green of his when he’s Chat Noir and her black hair falls down her back in a loose braid, she’s still recognisably Ladybug. And she looks utterly incredible in her suit: a cropped, long-sleeved black qipao top with bright green lining and two small slits up both sides at the bottom, over what looks like black gloves and a tight black suit with thin green lines down her sides and outer thighs. She’s also got a thin black belt with a green paw print on one side around her waist, along with knee-high black boots with green trim around the top and soles that appear to be green with black paw pads if Misterbug looks closely as they run.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is stunning, no matter what guise she’s in. How did he get so lucky as to fall for the same girl twice? All his feelings for Ladybug, died down to background noise since being with Marinette, are rushing back to him in full force, filling his veins with jittery little ladybugs instead of blood and warming him better than any expensive heating system ever could.

Of course, it’s not a hundred percent certain. But honestly, who else could it be? Marinette trips down the stairs and hurts her left arm (although he’s got doubts about that being an accident, after her recent run of bad luck), and Ladybug’s left arm is hurt so badly that she can’t be Ladybug? And every single time Marinette’s been around, Ladybug hasn’t been, and vice versa? The way she’s been odd every time he’s brought up Marinette? How she was conveniently out on a secret mission when Evillustrator was targeting Marinette? No; now that Misterbug’s mind has connected the two girls, there’s no way he can see Marinette and Ladybug as two different people.

But what’s he supposed to do? He can’t just up and tell her. She’d flip out if she knew. And…maybe he’s just a bit scared. Maybe, after Marinette’s confession about the ways in which she used to pursue Adrien, there’s that fear that she’ll not want to be with Chat Noir if she learns that they’re the same people, especially since she’s confided in him without the knowledge that he’s the boy she was talking about. And considering that Marinette is one of Misterbug’s best friends and he’d kill everyone in the room and then himself if anything happened to her, there’s no way in hell he’s going to do anything to risk losing her.

“Um, excuse me, what the hell?” says a familiar voice, cutting through Misterbug’s thoughts. He and Lady Noire have finally made it outside, where there are vines and tendrils covering almost every inch of the place, plunging the courtyard into the quiet, breath-holding atmosphere of the heart of a forest. What the hell is this akuma annoyed about?

“Oh, hi, Honeybee!” Lady Noire says. “Chat and I decided to try switching our Miraculouses for a bit, to get accustomed to each other’s powers.”

“We – did! Yeah!” Misterbug says. “Misterbug and Lady Noire, at your service!”

Honeybee wrinkles her nose. “Eww. Ladybug looks way better in spots than as a mangy alley cat.”

“Luckily for her, she doesn’t have to give a fuck about what you think!” Rena Rouge says brightly as she lands beside Honeybee, while Carapace skids to a halt next to Lady Noire. Honeybee flips Rena Rouge off in response.

“Guys, focus!” Lady Noire easily slips into her role as the team leader. Another sign that Misterbug had missed! Marinette is class president; she’s a natural leader! “What are we up against?”

“A hacked-off gardener, I think?” Rena Rouge says. “Called himself Tangleweed before he ran and got his plants to try and strangle the hell out of us.”

“How do we find him, then?” Misterbug says. “With all these plants, he could be anywhere.”

“Just follow the leafy green road, dude,” Carapace says. Huh. Now that Misterbug looks closer, the vines and other plants do seem to be trailing from a common source outside what he assumes is the school gates, not that he can make sense of what’s up and down in this place.

“Well,” Misterbug says, “everything will be just vine once – ow!”

“Leave the puns to the clown, bugaboy,” Lady Noire says with a charming little smile, retracting her baton after bopping him over the head with it.

“Okay, I take it back,” Honeybee blurts out. “Lady Noire is just as hot as Ladybug, and feel free to stomp my head into the ground whenever you want. I’ll totally thank you for it.”

Lady Noire snorts at that. “I’ll remember your offer. But let’s take down Tangleweed before I go stomping on heads.”

Following the road of plants leads them out of the school and into the streets of Paris, which have also been overrun and choked just like the courtyard. Once they’re out of the school, however, following the plants is unnecessary to find Tangleweed. Unless Misterbug’s sorely mistaken, the massive flower bud on the tip of the Eiffel Tower is most certainly the location of this akuma.

“If this is another Horrificator pod person thing, he better not be slimy,” Honeybee says with another nose wrinkle. “Ick.”

“I’d comment on that, but I’m afraid Lady Noire would hit me next,” Rena Rouge says dryly.

“Damn right,” Lady Noire says with a shit-eating grin. Fantastic. Is Plagg’s bastard energy rubbing off on her? “Well, bugaboy, what’s the plan?”

Misterbug blinks when his teammates turn to stare at him expectantly. “M-Me?” he stammers. “Aren’t you the brains, milady?”

“Sure, when I’m Ladybug,” Lady Noire says, twisting the tip of her boot on the ground coyly. Misterbug’s heart nearly gives out at the sight because this is his gorgeous girlfriend Marinette he’s talking to. “Come on, milord, I’m sure you can think of something.”

“I’m gonna be sick,” Rena Rouge mutters.

“Payback’s a bitch,” Lady Noire grins.

“Well, you don’t have to watch me make out with my boyfriend! And ew, Ladybug watches me lock lips. I’m gonna make myself sick now.”

“Guys, focus!” Misterbug whines. Lady Noire falls silent, though her green cat eyes continue to glitter with mischief. “D’you think we can get to Tangleweed ourselves? Or should I Charm it?”

“Not this early,” Lady Noire says. “At least get closer and gather information. The Lucky Charm doesn’t just give you what you want. You have to make do with what you get and figure out how to win the battle!”

“May I just repeat,” Honeybee says, “please crush me into the ground.”

“Come on!” Lady Noire spins her baton. “Let’s go yank some weeds!”

“Hey, that’s my line!” Misterbug complains as he leaps after her, followed by Rena Rouge, Carapace, and Honeybee. It’s easy enough to make it to the Tower; the problems start when they try to scale it and a thick root appears out of nowhere and literally slaps Honeybee out of the air.

“Ah,” Misterbug says. “Yes. Because this was going to be easy, just for me.”

“You know, putting on this suit is probably the best thing I’ve ever done,” Lady Noire says cheerfully and bats a massive tendril of grass away from Rena Rouge with her good arm, wincing as she does so.

“Stop being a bastard and help me figure this out!”

“Fine, fine. Let’s try a distraction! Rena, Honey, keep him occupied. Misterbug, Carapace, and I will try and sneak around.”

“I grow gayer every time you call me Honey,” Honeybee says, then spins her trompo and leaps out onto a massive pink flower. “Hey! Planthead!”

“Look at Honeybee in her natural habitat!” Rena Rouge grins, stabbing a tendril with her flute. Honeybee shoots her a death glare.

“Come on!” Misterbug says. He, Lady Noire, and Carapace take off up the Tower, although Lady Noire noticeably winces every time she’s forced to put weight on her injured arm. Oh. Shit. Misterbug had forgotten about that!

“I’m fine,” Lady Noire huffs when she catches him staring. “Seriously.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe that,” Misterbug says. “Look, you can stay on the ground and –”

“Like hell! I can still fight, bugaboy!”

“Uh, am I missing something, dudes?” Carapace says.

“I just don’t want you to hurt yourself even more!” Misterbug says.

“I don’t need you to coddle me! I can – ah!”

Tangleweed seems to have finally clued in that he’s getting a surprise visit from the rear. A vine lashes out and Lady Noire’s forced to dodge with the reflexes of, well…a cat. But she’s unprepared for the follow-up attack, especially as she hisses and cradles her arm to her chest, and she’s knocked off the beam that she’s clutching, hurtling towards the ground with a shrill scream as her staff clatters just out of reach.

“I got her!” Carapace says and dives after her before Misterbug can devolve into a panic attack at the sight of his lady plummeting off the Eiffel Tower. “Shellter!”

No. Focus! She can take care of herself. That’s why you love her. Focus, Misterbug!

Right. New plan. He drops to scoop up Lady Noire’s baton from the stray beam and then continues scaling the Tower, until he’s at the tip and right next to the massive pink flower bud. This close, it looks like it’s pulsating…wait, no, it is. Ew. Good thing Honeybee’s not up here or she’d be pitching a fit.

“Right,” Misterbug says, and takes advantage of Lady Noire not having her baton to add, “Time to nip this in the bud!” He shakes the baton to lengthen it, then jabs at the bud with a bellow…only to be grabbed by the ankles by a vine and hoisted into the air.

“Misterbug!” Lady Noire cries from on the ground as another tendril starts snaking towards his ears. “Use your Lucky Charm!”

Right! “Lucky Charm!” Warm power rushes through Misterbug as he bends up to toss his yo-yo, so unlike the cold energy of Cataclysm, and he’s so preoccupied with this warmth that he almost misses the summoned item that floats back towards him. It’s – “A feather? What am I supposed to do with this?”

Before he can start to think of a plan, though, there’s a low groaning sound that splits the air. The tendril around his ankles loosens, almost as though in shock, and he drops off the creaking, leaning Tower like a stone and is forced to whip his yo-yo off and toss it back at one of the beams to arrest his fall.

“Well? What did it give you?” Lady Noire says once he’s on the ground and can see the reason for his release: the bottom of the toppled Tower is corroded, just like whenever he uses his Cataclysm as Chat Noir. In response to her question, Misterbug holds out his hand to reveal the feather.

“I don’t know what to do with it!” he says. “I mean, I thought of tickling it, but you’d do something totally different! It can’t be that easy!”

Lady Noire hums and looks back at the collapsed Tower. “Well, I’d come up with some convoluted plan, but you’re a simple, straightforward guy,” she says. “Maybe it is that easy. But you can’t just get up there and tickle the akuma without coming up with a plan, which is the whole point of the Lucky Charm.”

“And we have to do it fast, dude,” Carapace says. “I’m gonna change back in a few minutes. And so’ll Lady Noire.”

“Well, the obvious thing would be to have Rena keep it occupied with Mirage while I tickle the flower and Honeybee paralyses Tangleweed,” Misterbug says slowly. “But it can’t be that simple…right?”

“Why not?” Lady Noire says with a small grin. “It’s still a plan. Carapace and I can help Rena Rouge keep him busy until our timers run out. Nice thinking, milord.”

“Alright, let’s freakin’ do this.” Rena Rouge twirls her flute and raises it to her lips to play a little tune. “Mirage!”

Birds. Her illusion is birds. Hundreds of them, flapping around Tangleweed’s vines and vanishing in orange light when the vines touch them, but they seem to do the trick of keeping his attention focused away from the superheroes, as his vines start to lash out at them.

“Let’s go!” Misterbug takes off running for the fallen Eiffel Tower with Honeybee, ducking and weaving through vines and flowers and leaves, batting them away when they react to his presence and try to grab him once again.

“Ew,” Honeybee grimaces when she and Misterbug finally make it to the pulsating pink bud. “Gross.”

“That’s what I said,” Misterbug says. “You ready?”

Honeybee steels herself and nods. “Venom!” she says and catches her throbbing trompo. Then she wrinkles her nose. “Ugh. I’m never gonna be able to look at my weapon the same way again.��

“Get ready to pollinate this plant,” Misterbug grins. Honeybee gives him such a venomous look that he’s surprised he doesn’t drop dead on the spot. “Fine, fine, I’ll lay off the jokes.”

“Just tickle the damn thing already!” Honeybee says. Sticking out his tongue – because okay, Adrien’s technically not yet friends with Chloe again and she doesn’t know he’s Misterbug slash Chat Noir, but it’s so much fun to mess with her – he steps up to the bud and starts to tickle it with the little red feather. The bud quivers, then shivers, then thrashes wildly and falls open to reveal the green-skinned man inside. Honeybee’s on the case straight away, jabbing her trompo into Tangleweed’s arm to freeze him on the spot.

“Nice,” Misterbug says. “Where d’you think the akuma is?”

Honeybee raises an eyebrow. “Probably the shears he’s very obviously holding in his left hand?” she says. Misterbug squints at Tangleweed. Oh. Right. That…would make sense. Biting down on a scathing retort, he grabs the shears and snaps them over his knee to release the evil purple and black butterfly.

“Don’t forget to capture the akuma!” Lady Noire calls over from the base of the ruined Eiffel Tower.

“Hey, I’ve always wanted to do this!” Misterbug swipes open his yo-yo and tosses it at the akuma, capturing it and reeling it back in. “No more evildoing for you, little akuma! Time to de-evilise!”

“You are a massive dork and I hate that I’m in your presence,” Honeybee says. Misterbug grins at her as he releases the now-white butterfly.

“Bye-bye, little butterfly!”

“Nope. Ladybug does it better. Don’t even try.”

“You could be just a little more encouraging, you know,” Misterbug says.

“That would imply that I approve of you being a gigantic loser.”

“Hmph. Don’t be such a hater.” Misterbug throws the feather into the air before Honeybee can retort, and when he calls, “Miraculous Misterbug!” the ladybug swarm surges around Paris, restoring the Eiffel Tower and other damaged buildings and vanishing any trace of Tangleweed’s plants.

“Did you seriously just –?”

“Hey, you told me not to try and be like Ladybug,” Misterbug grins. Honeybee’s eye twitches.

“Not bad for your first time as Ladybug, milord,” Lady Noire says as she bounds over with Rena Rouge and Carapace. She holds out her good fist, and Misterbug, Rena Rouge, Carapace, and Honeybee follow suit and the five of them cry, “Pound it!”

.

[8:33 pm] miraculass

ladyBIrd: nice job today, guys

what does the fox say: wait why is your name still that

what does the fox say: you’re lady noire now right

ladyBIrd: only temp

catitude: yeah we thought it’d be good to try each other’s powers

catitude: in case we ever have to swap and realise we’re fucked bc we don’t know how to use the other

mess w turt u get hurt: makes sense

honeybeetch: just pls hurry up and switch back

honeybeetch: i can’t stand to see ladybug like this

honeybeetch: i mean

honeybeetch: she’s hot but i can’t handle misterbug

honeybeetch: he’s a giant loser

catitude: :(

mess w turt u get hurt: omg chloe????

honeybeetch: !!!!!!!

ladyBIrd: caRAPACE NO

honeybeetch: FUCK IVE BEEN EXPOSED

what does the fox say: welp

catitude: f

airhead: Plot twist

airhead: Did I get that saying right?

mess w turt u get hurt: SRY

mess w turt u get hurt: i just

mess w turt u get hurt: the timing of honeybee esp after queen bee

mess w turt u get hurt: and how she’s a bitch here but like

mess w turt u get hurt: not nasty

mess w turt u get hurt: and chloe’s been better since mal

mess w turt u get hurt: even said congrats to marinette n adrien at school that day

mess w turt u get hurt: idk how chloe and honey were together after mal but prob rena

honeybeetch: only ladybug can call me honey shellhead

mess w turt u get hurt: only rena can call me shellhead fuzzhead

what does the fox say: aww i didn’t know we were at that stage in our relationship

mess w turt u get hurt: stfu don’t make a big deal of it or anythin

what does the fox say: 0:)

catitude: dw honey we’re not taking the miraculous

honeybeetch: good bc like fuck i’ll give it

ladyBIrd: Honeybee

honeybeetch: ugh fine

honeybeetch: only for u lb

honeybeetch: but thanks for not taking it

ladyBIrd: just

ladyBIrd: stop figuring each other out

catitude: pls

catitude: idk who milady is

catitude: now i feel sad :(

ladyBIrd: ugh

ladyBIrd: you’re a dork

catitude: eat me ;)

honeybeetch: ew get your kink away from me

airhead: Is it too late to give back my Miraculous?

ladyBIrd: yes

catitude: yes

mess w turt u get hurt: yes

what does the fox say: yes

honeybeetch: yes

honeybeetch: anyway later losers

honeybeetch: late night massage calling my name

airhead: My mother will be expecting me

honeybeetch: mine won’t

honeybeetch: not since i told her to gtfo back to new york

honeybeetch: don’t think she wants to talk to me for the next century

what does the fox say: yeah i should start on my homework

mess w turt u get hurt: SHIT FORGOT STUDY DATE WITH GF

what does the fox say: loooool

catitude: f

catitude: let’s take this to dms milady

ladyBIrd: such a gentleman

[8:39 pm] direct messages

Chat Noir: so um

Chat Noir: how’s the arm

Ladybug: sore as hell

Ladybug: freakin broke it

Chat Noir: oof

Ladybug: yep

Ladybug: prob gonna be out of commission for a few weeks

Ladybug: least the cure fixed any damage I did to it when I was transformed

Chat Noir: just treat plagg well

Ladybug: same with Tikki

Ladybug: I miss her already

Chat Noir: same with plagg

Chat Noir: even if he’s a gremlin

Ladybug: he told me to tell you he’s super offended

Chat Noir: let him be

Ladybug: um

Ladybug: ty

Ladybug: for having my back like that

Ladybug: don’t know how I would’ve managed with my arm

Chat Noir: of course bugaboo

Chat Noir: we’re a team

Ladybug: <3

Chat Noir: <3

Chat Noir: hate that i can’t go and see mari

Chat Noir: even if she’s out of the hospital she prob needs rest time

Ladybug: Chat

Ladybug: you’re her boyfriend

Ladybug: why the heck wouldn’t she want to see you

Chat Noir: i mean

Chat Noir: true

Chat Noir: i’m gonna go see her now

Ladybug: good

Ladybug: I’ll have fun with this homework

Chat Noir: ew

Ladybug: yep

Ladybug: thank god it wasn’t my right arm

.

“It’s really nice of you to do this, Adrien!” Tikki says as Adrien double checks his schoolbag the next morning to make sure that he’s got everything.

“Well, why wouldn’t I give Marinette a lift to school?” he says. “Someone’s got it in for her. They broke her arm! I mean, it was an “accident” that someone tripped and caused a domino effect just as Marinette happened to be on the stairs but come on. I’m going to stick by her and be her ‘lucky charm’.”

“Mhm.” Tikki’s mouth droops. “She doesn’t deserve what’s been happening to her. Uh, from what I’ve seen of her…”

“You don’t have to pretend.” After a night of tossing and turning, Adrien’s realised that this is the right thing to do. He can’t just sit back and pretend that he doesn’t know, especially since he’s got Ladybug’s kwami for the time being. “I know Marinette is Ladybug.”

“Eep!” Tikki claps her little paws over her mouth. “I didn’t mean to –”

“No, no, it wasn’t anything you said!” Adrien hurries to say. “I figured it out yesterday. Ladybug just happening to have the same injury as Marinette? And then everything clicked.”

Tikki sighs and lowers her arms. “I’m just surprised that none of the others figured it out,” she says. “You are one of the least observant lot we’ve had.”

“Hey,” Adrien protests, though he can’t find it in himself to take offence at something that true.

“When are you going to tell her that you know?”

“I don’t know. I want to but…I’m afraid, Tikki.”

“Adrien –”

“She likes me, right? Adrien? Even though she’s choosing to focus on Chat Noir?”

Tikki slowly nods.

“I know I’m just being silly but, like…part of me is terrified that she won’t want me anymore if she knows I’m Chat Noir. What if she decides that she likes Chat Noir better than Adrien and she wishes I’d never told her? That she’ll lose interest because it’s been me all this time and – and I’ll lose her.”

“That won’t happen, Adrien,” Tikki says firmly. “Marinette most definitely will still want you even if she knows you’re Chat Noir.”

“But –”

“Adrien, I’m her kwami. Trust me when I say that she won’t be disappointed at all. Knowing you’re Adrien would probably make her happier because then her heart won’t belong to two different boys when they’re the same person.”

“Right. Right. Just…give me some time? I still have to wrap my head around the fact that I fell for the same girl twice. Of course she’s Marinette! Who else is as brave and funny and gorgeous as Ladybug?”

Tikki giggles. “How about telling her when you give me back? That should give you enough time to sort yourself out.”

“This isn’t fair,” Adrien complains. “I got stuck with the gremlin kwami. Of course Marinette would get the sugary sweet one.”

Tikki laughs again. But at the sound of footsteps outside Adrien’s bedroom, she dives into the pocket of his green hoodie, just in time to avoid being seen as Nathalie opens the door.

“If you’re insistent on giving this Marinette girl a ride to school, you have to leave now, Adrien,” Nathalie says.

“Right.” Adrien grabs his bag and follows her. “Thanks, Nathalie.”

[pumpkinsadlatte]

Danse Macabre

Despite ao3′s best efforts, I’ve answered the call of the “waltzing together” prompt for day two of @nutsandvoltsweek. This wasn't the original idea for this fic, but what I wanted was far more aesthetic and action-oriented than I thought I could do in twenty-four hours. I’m still happy with this, though.

crossposted on ao3, despite the archive’s efforts to the contrary. Please forgive my horrifically cliche title.

Atlesian socialites just adore their dramatic choices in themes for gatherings, and their tastes undoubtedly had spread down to Mantle, as this display at a ballroom in a hotel that had existed since long before the city floating above them quite clearly proves. Citizens of all classes, mingling together in the cavernous room, the event held by the representative from Mantle to the Atlas council: as a way to “ease tensions” stemming from the closure of the kingdom’s borders and the embargo on dust putting pressure on Schnee, pressure that trickled down to its workers.

The idea had been simple: all were welcome, regardless of class, race, occupation. Wear your finest. Conceal your identity with a mask, there is to be no identification at a glance, so there will be no pressure to or not to speak to someone. The idea, of course, is on the surface not terrible, in fact some might even call it a good one. But those people would be sadly mistaken.

It’s laughable, really, that someone could think that a few hours of drinking and dancing could ever be enough to make these pitiful creatures forget the drudgery and depression of their daily lives. And the masks . It would have been comical if it wasn’t so, so painfully cliche.

Though, really, those just made their job here so much easier.

The good doctor leans rather heavily on the wrought-iron railing, green eyes tracing over the truly voluptuous scene of the gathering below, exposed by holes in his mask doubling as eye sockets in the skull of a vulture. Appropriate, considering his current position: perched above the masses and peering down. The base of the mask is bone white, fading into a short, realistic beak, though the intricate gold overlay looks more like a human skull than that of a bird. But it had been the duality that had drawn him to it. Granted, the long black and hood are sorely lacking in originality, but he isn’t exactly here to show off.

“Now, where did you get off to?” he sighs, scanning the ballroom below from his vantage point on the balcony, before he spots Tyrian lurking at the bottom of the stairs. His partner has always looked ravishing in red, whatever form the color’s presence has taken on his body, and while the doctor didn’t exactly question the very long, very red coat’s practicality for hiding stains, he had worried that it would be a tad too flashy for their purposes. Though, it does make him easy to find. “There you are.”

Oh, doctor … Tyrian giggles in his earpiece, and Arthur nods when he sees him glancing around. The councilman’s on the dance floor. Perhaps you should come down here so that we can… go say hello .

Arthur hums, but straightens from where he’s been leaned over the railing and smooths down his clothing before making his way down the staircase. He catches Tyrian around the waist as he passes him, pulling him around and in front of him, settling one hand on Tyrian’s waist and seizing his hand with the other. “If you insist.”

“ Dramatic ,” Tyrian coos, following the other’s lead and resting his free hand on the doctor’s shoulder. His eyes glitter dangerously purple in the sockets of his own skull mask, intricate gold filigree-inspired design over burgundy, dotted all over with tiny red dust crystals -- almost like blood oozing up from the pores of a face -- and edged around the pointed teeth and eye sockets with delicate red trim, still like blood. Part of the gold filigree is actually rose gold, and the rose gold patch takes the shape of a scorpion spreading along his right cheek, with its tail curling up around the eye socket. “You know, doctor, I never did learn to waltz .”

“You’re a quick learner,” Arthur replies easily. “You’ll figure it out.”

Despite his insistence that he didn’t know how to waltz, Tyrian is nothing short of graceful as they sweep into the fray, the pair of them turning around and around with the rest of the dancers as they make their way closer to their target. Every so often, when they brush too close to another pair, he feels a shift against his torso as the end of Tyrian’s tail flexes and flicks, catching hands and wrists and any expanse of skin that he can find. Nicks in the skin just innocuous enough not to betray the poison coursing through their bloodstream.

They keep it up, Tyrian striking at random before they twist away from their unknowing victims, for longer than the hunter thought he’d be allowed to before Arthur’s nails digging into his hand stops him.

“The councilman is behind you on the right side,” the doctor murmurs. Tyrian’s tail may be well-hidden, the majority of the length wrapped around his waist, but there’s not much hiding it when he strikes. “We can’t be striking at random and risk him noticing.”

 Tyrian hums. “Can you get me in front of him?”

 “Not yet. But…” He spins them a little more aggressively than probably necessary, and gives Tyrian a look at their target over his shoulder. “We’ll only have one shot. Do you see a target?”

“He’s kept his whole neck exposed. I could just…” Arthur turns them again, and Tyrian actually growls. “Excuse me!”

 “Can���t risk him seeing you.”

“I think you just like throwing me around.”

“I think you’re projecting.” Another spin, with far more flourish. “He’s just behind you. Take your shot.”

Tyrian beams brightly, and his tail whips out behind him. The councilman’s partner screeches loudly, and the pair scatters as the crowd does, recoiling back away from the scene. They’ve separated and successfully gotten lost in the horrified crowd before the councilman’s body even hits the floor. They make their runs for an exit as the crowd starts to, and their paths cross again at a staff entrance in the far corner of the room, ignored by panicking attendees making their own desperate runs for main doors. Arthur shoulders the door open and yanks Tyrian rather roughly through it behind him, slamming it shut and latching it with the bar meant to prevent guests from wandering into a staff stairwell as the hunter pulls open the door to what used to be an electrical access panel, but was now just a small door to a very convenient void in the wall where they’d stashed changes of clothes.

“The others should start dropping soon,” Tyrian giggles, pulling his red coat off and letting it fall to the floor, exposing his too-open yellow dress shirt and less-than-perfectly tailored black pants before he pulls his usual brown coat on. “With all that adrenaline , I think most of them won’t make it out of the room.”

“Good.” Arthur drops his own coat on top of Tyrian’s discarded one, and rolls up the sleeves of his fittingly-sanguine purple dress shirt. He shrugs off his charcoal vest with its black paisley print and flips it inside out to the solid black of the other wearable side, fastening the second set of gold buttons very quickly before withdrawing his own black jacket from the void in the wall. “None of them are going to last more than a few days anyway.”

“Mmm!” Tyrian laughs as he wraps his tail around Arthur’s waist and yanks him closer in order to better reach his face. He pushes the doctor’s mask up a little, just enough to be out of the way, and crushes their lips together, digging his nails into Arthur’s neck as he does. When the hunter pulls away, he catches Arthur’s lower lip in his teeth for a moment before he lets go. “I think we’d better hurry back home. I don’t know how much longer I can stand looking at you dressed so nicely~ I might just ravish you in the alley outside, instead of waiting for you to get it up enough to have your way with me .”

“Your preferences would disturb any other man,” the doctor points out, reaching up to pull his mask entirely off of his face now that Tyrian’s tongue is no longer down his throat. He doesn’t add that he knows Tyrian isn’t that stupid: it’d be pointless to keep talking when their clock is ticking like this.

“Oh I know !” The snickering that escapes Tyrian is wonderfully chaotic, as if he’s just had the most wicked of ideas, and he licks his lips as he removes his own mask to reveal his gold eyes dangerously dark, with his pupils blown wide. “I suppose I’m just lucky that I’m stuck with you ~”

“Those are your words, not mine.” Arthur hears the door behind them rattling, someone’s trying to get in. “Take the rooftops, I’ll make my way through the kitchens.”

“I’ll try not to have too much fun without you.” Tyrian grins, vaulting up over a slightly higher railing and out of sight, leaving the doctor to withdraw a vial of burn dust and tip it over their discarded coats, a flex of his aura igniting the clothing into a blaze too large to be jumped through before he takes off down the stairs.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Ego

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Years ago, comic book movies were absolutely, totally afraid to be even a little weird. Raimi carried the weirdness torch for a while thanks to the success of the Spider-Man trilogy, but for some reason he was the only person unafraid to be goofy; even Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer, a movie about one of the more fun and campy classical hero teams, was completely and utterly afraid to show a big man in purple armor who eats planets and so instead opted to show us an intergalactic fart cloud. The precedent set by franchises like Blade, X-Men, and Nolan’s Batman films lingered for a long time.

Then along came James Gunn.

Gunn is a man unafraid to be weird, and Guardians of the Galaxy really changed the game in 2014. There’s a gun-toting raccoon, a talking tree, a bald blue cyborg woman, and an alcoholic duck, and the movie is a smash hit critically and financially; there is now no excuse not to put the wierdest stuff from the comics faithfully into film. And for the sequel, Gunn apparently saw fit to bring in one of Marvel’s most bonkers bad guys: Ego, the Living Planet.

Ego is the perfect example of how to adapt something utterly bizarre from the comics, changing some major elements while still staying true to the nature of the character himself. Ego here is Peter Quill’s father, something that isn’t true in the comics, as well as a Celestial, something also not true in the comics… but he is still a sentient planet, and he is still completely and utterly evil.

Actor: Kurt Russell, 80s superstar and the reason Solid Snake exists, plays Ego to perfection. Ego is a character with, well, an ego; he’s selfish, self-centered, and lacking in empathy, but he also needs to come off as charming and friendly or we the audience would see through him immediately. Russell is the exact perfect man for that job; this is a guy who managed to play a character who was mildly transphobic and still have them come off as likable. Russell is also able to switch from affable and charming to scary and furious with ease, which is a big help after the reveal when Ego drops all pretense. Russell just kills it, there’s no other way to put it.

Motivation/Goals: Ego has an almost sympathetic goal, one that, from a certain point of view, makes him come off as a bit sympathetic. The guy was drifting alone in the void for eons and had to piece himself together, so is it any wonder he was horrifically lonely when he was finally able to set out to find life? Of course, that loneliness and isolation led to him developing some really nasty personality traits, and so he decided the best course of action after finding out other intelligent life was “boring” was to plant seeds on every planet, sire a child with powers just like him, and then wipe out all life and turn all the planets in the universe into extensions of himself. It is a plan truly befitting a character with the name “Ego,” and while it is true his motivation is at least a little deserving of sympathy, his goals and how he goes about trying to ameliorate his pain is what makes Ego an irredeemable monster.

Personality: Ego is perhaps one of the most aptly named characters in all of fiction, and he’s also one of the few characters one could make the honest claim that his ego is literally the size of a planet. Ego puts forth this identity of a charming, fatherly figure, happy, affable, jokey… just really sweet and charming. But much like the avatar he uses, it’s all just a mask.

Look at how he talks about what he did to Peter’s mom; he says it with such a wistful, resigned melancholy flavored with this “I did what I had to do” smugness that is a twisted reflection of how one might recall their first date, and then follows it up with a horrifically callous response of “I know that sounds bad.” Ego is such a monstrous, unrepentant sociopath with so little regard for life that is beneath his lofty stature that I just don’t think he really comprehends things like empathy. He is the ultimate psychopathic manchild, an arrogant egotist who hides behind this friendly veneer until the moment things don’t go the way he wants, at which point he starts screaming, ranting, and raving. The fact he is completely and utterly taken aback that Peter would unload multiple shots into him after being told Ego gave his mother a brain tumor is really telling of just what kind of person he really is.

Final Fate: The bomb Groot planted on Ego’s brain goes off, and Ego’s avatar crumbles to dust as the planet begins to blow up, seeing as its brain just got obliterated. The beautiful karma of this moment makes it extra delicious; after putting that tumor on Meredith Quill’s brain, is it not fitting he die after having something planted on his brain?

Best Scene: Ego just really dominates every scene he’s in, but I think the big reveal, where he shows just what a sick and depraved villain with a lack of care for life as he reveals what he did to Meredith Quill, is one of the MCU’s finest scenes.

Best Quote: It took only one single line to cement Ego as the most horrible, evil, disgusting monster in the MCU: “It broke my heart to put that tumor in her head.”

Final Thoughts & Score: Ego is fantastic on so many levels, but one level I think should not be overlooked is on a meta level. As I mentioned, for the longest time silliness and weird concepts were out the door when it came to superhero films. One needs only look at the X-Men franchise to see how dour things were, with their dull black costumes and overwhelmingly miserable and unfun atmospheres. More lighthearted or sillier fare did not go over well, as Iron Man 2 and Green Lantern can attest, and magic was totally absent for a while in the MCU probably because of fears audiences wouldn’t take it seriously. But James Gunn changed all that, and I think Ego definitely played a huge role in cementing that audiences will embrace and love in the weirdest stuff out of comics. Thanks to Ego, I think a lot of other creators became unafraid to let that freak flag fly and put things in movies they might have been too worried to put in before, with the ultimate and best example being Mister Mind joining the DCEU in the end of Shazam! It gives me hope that Tawky Tawny might show up there in a sequel.

On a character level, Ego is without a doubt the most punchable scumbag in the entire MCU, with only Mysterio coming close. The fact he casually admits to killing Peter’s mother and expects him to be okay with it… Can you really blame Peter for immediately unloading his guns into his father? I mean, when faced with a man who is utterly unrepentant in killing a loved one that they also claimed they loved and says they had to do it to further their goals, would you not also have a knee-jerk reaction like that? Yes, I am getting at this being a canon moment that shows Peter’s reaction to Thanos in Infinity War was not a stupid moment, it was a moment that was built up by what he did to Ego. And I think that just adds to Ego even more, because he helped cement a character trait of Peter’s that would lead to one of the most horrific gut punches in cinematic history.

Ego is an easy 10/10, and is one of the MCU’s greatest villains. He’s a perfect “love to hate” character, and he’s also a perfect villain for a story about family. Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 has family as a focal point of the story, with the arcs of every single character revolving around the idea that family doesn’t have to be blood ties, it can be with the people who love you and who you’ve bonded with the most. Yondu’s line of “He may’ve been your father, boy, but he wasn’t your daddy” is what really sells it, honestly; Ego is Peter’s biological father, yes, but Yondu raised him and even if he didn’t always do right by him, in the end he showed himself to be a better man and better dad than Ego ever could have hoped to be. I suppose that’s a bit off topic from Ego himself, but I feel like it’s important to note just how deeply thematic he is as a villain, tying into the core message of the story while also letting loose in utter sociopathic villainy.

I think there is a great irony in Ego’s ultimate plan; for all his claims of being lonely and desiring others like him, what exactly does he think would happen if the entire universe was nothing but himself? Would he truly have been satisfied? Perhaps; he was a narcissistic to the highest degree for sure. But I like that there is some ambiguity to things about Ego, I like how there are some things to think about, I like how a villain who has a plan that is not clearly thought out by them yet that they believe is the proper course of action is something of a setup for what Thanos would be.

And really, out of every other villain in the MCU, Ego is most like Thanos. The obvious part is the plan, though only Endgame Thanos really wanted to reshape the universe in his image; still, as I mentioned, their plans are both something they believe is the true and righteous course of action, though Thanos is far more sympathetic in this regard. They also both felt the need to sacrifice loved ones in pursuit of their goals, and they both have incredibly poor relationships with some of their kids. I think the main difference is that Thanos, for all his faults, does have some empathy, he does have some sympathetic traits even if they don’t redeem how much of an awful person he was. Ego has none of that. Ego squanders any sympathy he could have gained by being utterly unrepentant and casual about his misdeeds, which include slaughtering his other children and killing Peter’s mother despite claiming to have loved her dearly. At least Thanos openly wept at what he did to Gamora, at least he felt sadness,  guilt, and regret. Ego just doesn’t care. He did it because whatever he really felt for Meredith, there was only one person he could ever truly love: Himself.

In short, Yondu was right: that guy was a jackass.

[carryonsimoncarryonbaz]

Chapter 13 is up! We’re nearing the close of this fic. Just a bit left to go. I’m going to miss writing this one. 

Chapter 13

Simon

No one’s in the kitchen by the time we get downstairs. I can hear the little ‘uns voices down the hall.

Baz rummages around in the refrigerator then pulls out a few sealed containers of food.

It’s a bit surreal watching Baz make me a roast beef sandwich in the Pitch Manor kitchen. Not a sight I ever expected to see but it’s certainly a welcome one.

He’s put all sorts of left-overs on my plate. His has considerably less food on it than mine. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

He points at his plate. “I am eating.”

I frown. “Not much.”

Baz frowns back at me then reaches over to dump a little more chestnut stuffing on his plate.

“That’s it?”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m saving room for dessert.”

“That sweet tooth of yours.”

“I happen to be partial to trifle.”

“I’d not say no to some of that sticky toffee pudding.” Mrs. Grimm’s sticky toffee pudding was heavenly.

“Then you’d be out of luck.”

“What? It’s not all finished, is it? I swear there was some on the platter when we cleared the dishes last night.”

The tips of his ears flush. He’s not meeting my eyes. “Baz?”

“Oh, shut up, you nightmare. I came down and polished it off after you went to bed.” He gives me a pointed look. “The first time you went to bed.”

“You jammy bastard. I was looking forward to some more of that.”

“You can have trifle.”

It’s ridiculous really, that we’re bickering about sweets. I can’t help but grin. We sound like we used to, back when we roomed together, squabbling familiarly but with none of the bitterness.

I love it.

We sit at the kitchen table, side by side, legs rubbing and arms bumping. It’s cozy. It’s domestic.

It’s fucking perfect.

And that’s when the ache in my chest at the thought of him leaving in a week hits me again. I can’t help it. It gets me every time. I’ve put up a good front, but five months does sound daunting when you think about it.

I suppose we’ve been apart five years so what’s five months compared to that?

It helps to think of it that way, if only a little.

Baz and I demolish what’s left of the trifle, both leaning over the dish, spoons dueling for the best bites.

I carry the dishes to the sink and do the washing up while Baz dries. I’m going to think back on this moment when I’m alone in my flat, and that thought is almost unbearable.

“So. Shall we search out the hellions and devote the afternoon to board games or is there something else you’d rather do?” Baz is leaning against the counter, one eyebrow arched in question.

I can think of an entire list of things I’d like to do with him and none of them involve the kind of games he’s talking about.

Baz clears his throat and flushes again. “I meant down here. We should at least put in an appearance?”

My face flames in response. “Yeah, uh, yes, of course.” How bad can games with his siblings be?

Horrifically bad, it turns out. These children are all as insanely competitive as Baz, even Magnus, and he’s only seven.

They thrash me at Scrabble. I thought it would be better if we split into teams. That was my first mistake. Mordelia paired up with Acantha, Baz with Magnus, and Ophelia got me. I’m sure she regrets it. She’s the only reason we even got one triple word score. The disgust on her face when all I could eke out on the last go-around was “BAT” is uncannily similar to the look Baz used to sport whenever he’d walk by my clothes hamper at school (I run hot) (can’t be helped if my laundry gets a little ripe) (I still tend to wait until I’m down to the dregs of my closet before I do the wash).

He’s not sneering at me this time though. He’s fucking smirking at the board as he adds a “WOM” to my word and seals his victory in the game. Wanker.

Scrabble over, they drag me into a game of Lord of the Rings Trivial Pursuit which ends up being even more of a bloodbath for me, as we’re all on our own for this one. It’s not like I haven’t seen the movies. I have. I like them well enough but there’s no way I know what bloody color hood Faramir placed on Gollum’s sodding head by the Forbidden Pool. It’s all rot.

I lose again. Even Magnus does better than I do.

I feel the touch of Baz’s hand on my arm. He’s rubbing my forearm, stroking up and down gently. It’s soothing. I like it. He can keep doing that all day, as far as I’m concerned.

“Had enough of the minions?” Baz says it softly, for my ears only. Said minions are all crouched in a corner of the room, quarrelling over which game to torture me with next.

They rise in triumph, Magnus brandishing a Monopoly box at us. Bloody hell. Anything but that.

I’m on my feet in an instant. Baz stifles a snort but stands up with me, fingers searching mine out. He shakes his head at his siblings. “You can play amongst yourselves for a bit, you horrors. I’m going to give Simon a tour of the house.”

“More likely a tour of your tonsils,” Mordelia says, just loud enough for us to hear. She gives Baz a wicked grin and then winks at me. She’s incorrigible, truly. This girl is going to give Fiona a run for her money before long.

It’s a terrifying thought.

Baz gives her a withering look. “And what would you know about that?”

“Looked like you were giving it a go last night.” She smirks right back at him and Baz wisely chooses to beat a hasty retreat, before the younger ones get involved in this conversation.

We escape to the hallway. “Are you really giving me a tour of the house?”

“Do you truly want one?”

“Well, Mordelia’s option is quite tempting but I am curious about this Gothic mansion of yours.”

“I told you, it’s Victorian.”

I grin at him. “I know.”

“Nightmare.” He pulls me along the hallway.

Baz’s house is fucking absurd. There’s a gallery filled to the brim with portraits of deceased Pitch relatives. It’s a little unsettling having a whole room of them sneering at me.

There’s a green room and a red room (Baz’s lurid bedroom isn’t even the actual “red room”) (You should see that one) (it’s straight out of a horror movie). Then there’s Fiona’s room but Baz says it’s just a shrine to dark wave music and manky 80’s posters.

It is.

Mine’s the blue room so we skip that and head to the library. It’s massive. Heavy, dark furniture, large windows, a fireplace at the far end, and shelves and shelves of books. Leather bound books. Ancient looking tomes. I’d not be surprised to find an original copy of the fucking Magna Carta in here.

We don’t find that but we do find Mr. Grimm. He’s seated in an armchair at the back of the room, near the fire, reading a book. Baz gets his widows peak from him.

“Ah, Basilton. Simon.” Mr. Grimm gives us a nod.

“Just giving Simon a tour of the house, Father.”

“You’ve shown him the dungeon then?”

My eyes widen. I hadn’t quite expected the house to be that cliché, but it is Pitch Manor. I suppose they could have a dungeon here. The idea makes the hair on my neck stand up.

Baz gives his father a rather feral smile. “Thought I’d save that for the end.”

I look from one to the other.

Mr. Grimm doesn’t last long. His lips curve up. “Simon, you should see your face.”

Baz is laughing too.

“What?” I’m still looking back and forth between them, not sure of the joke.

Baz huffs at me. “You absolute numpty, there is no dungeon. It’s just a wine cellar, a storage area, and a fair amount of dust and spiders.”

Mr. Grimm still looks amused. “We were just having you on, Simon. No dungeons here.” He darts a glance at Baz and smooths his features. “But I make no promises about the estate in Scotland.”

I swear he winks, but it’s so fast I’m not sure it actually happened.

I’ve got no idea what to think. “You’ve got an estate in Scotland?” is what manages to come out of my mouth.

“Yes. It’s been in my family for generations.” Mr. Grimm nods in my direction. “We go there in the summers.” His eyes dart to Baz and they hold each other’s gaze for a long moment, Mr. Grimm’s aspect taking on that fond look I’ve glimpsed on Baz lately. “You should bring Simon, when you come home for your summer holiday, Basilton.”

I can feel Baz shift position next to me, see the relaxing of his posture. He fingers brush against mine. “Sounds like a splendid idea.”

Baz

I do end up snogging Simon in the wine cellar. It’s cold but it’s also far more private than any other place in the house. Far less chance of Mordelia sneaking up on us here.

I’ve got him pushed up against one of the stone walls, hands on his hips. We’re pressed together and the heat of him seeps through his clothes to warm me.

It’s doing quite a bit more to me than simply warming me up. I shift position, angling my hips slightly away from him.

One of Simon’s hands is in my hair and the other has slipped between the buttons of my shirt, to trace patterns of searing heat against my skin, just like this morning. I don’t want him to stop.

Eventually we do stop, because breathing is an unfortunate necessity.

I press my forehead to his. “I don’t want you to go.”

His eyes close. “I don’t want to go. But I’ve got to get back for work tomorrow.”

“You could stay tonight. I’ll drive you in the morning.” How can I sound so fucking needy?

Simon’s remarkable blue eyes meet mine. He pulls back to smirk at me. “I’d never be on time, if I stayed here with you.”

He’s probably right about that. I’d likely find every excuse to delay.

“You’ll come up to London later this week, yeah?”

“You couldn’t keep me away.” Fucking hell. The things that come out of my mouth when I’m with Simon. I’ve got no filter with him. I’ll be turning into fucking Fiona next, except spouting besotted romantic nonsense instead of bitter sarcasm and robust swearing.  

“What’s the time, Baz?”

I pull back far enough to check my watch. “It’s almost six.”

Simon shakes his head. “I should head home. I’ve got wash to do before tomorrow and a day of activities to plan.”

His hands come to rest on my face as he tips his head up to kiss me. It’s a long few moments before we move apart again.

“You alright driving me home?”

“I told you I would. It’s that much more time I get to spend with you. Every moment counts.” It’s done. It’s over. Whatever filter I had left has been definitively annihilated by the all-consuming blaze of affection I have for this boy. I’m a disgrace to the Pitch name.

I don’t care.

I thought I’d lost him forever five years ago.

I don’t intend on losing him again.

Simon

It takes longer than I expected to say goodbye to Baz’s family. Mrs. Grimm hugs me and tells me she hopes I can visit again. Mr. Grimm gives me a firm handshake and reiterates his invitation for the summer.

Acantha and Ophelia give me hugs of their own, while Magnus demands a piggy-back ride down the long hallway upstairs before he’ll allow me out of his sight.

I oblige and end up red-faced and puffing by the time I get back downstairs. Baz just smirks at me, the prat.

There is one more farewell it seems. Mordelia tugs at my sleeve as we walk past her toward the front door.

I stop. She’s got her hands on her hips and she’s glaring at me. She’s literally a mini-Fiona. She leans forward and pokes one finger at my chest. “Don’t be a knobhead.”

“Mordelia, language.” Mrs. Grimm snaps.

Mordelia rolls her eyes. “Fine.” Her eyes meet mine. “You know what I mean, Snow.”

I think I do.

For all her put-on indifference she cares about Baz deeply. They’ve got a way of communicating in this family—a way that cloaks their affection with sharp commentary, bitter sarcasm and vague insinuations. They know how to read each other, under that veneer.

My work with sullen youngsters has given me a bit of insight on the undercurrent of deep emotion that can be concealed by such language. My recent time with Baz has made me rethink many of our past interactions.

I nod at her. “I’ll do my best.” I lean a little closer, words for her ears only. “It means that much to me too, you know.”

Her eyes widen. She nods back and the mask slips into place once again. I’m far more knowledgeable about that too, in hindsight.

I had years of seeing Baz do just that.

Baz

The closer we get to Simon’s flat the dodgier the neighbourhood looks. There’s a parking spot open just past his building and I pull into it. I wasn’t sure what I expected when we got here but I most certainly am not just dropping him off. I want a look around this place.

There’s a boarded-up shop just across the street, graffiti spray painted onto the brick and boards. As we walk to his building I take in the sight of rubbish piled up and around the bins. There’s a shape that scurries into the shadows as we approach that I am fairly certain is a rat.

One of the lights by the door to the building is burnt out.

“I’m on the third floor. Bit of a trek up the stairs.” Simon grins back at me as he bounds up the steps. “Can you manage that these days, Baz, with your desk job?”

There’s a challenge in his eyes. I may sit at a desk all day but I’m still in peak physical condition.

“I don’t think I was the one huffing and puffing while giving a small boy a short piggy back ride earlier today, Simon.”

“Whatever you say.” Then he races up the steps without another look back.

This is unacceptable. “You cheat!” I’m flying up the steps behind him.

He beats me, of course. He’s leaning against the door to what must be his flat when I reach the third floor. “Cheat.”

“Plodder.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Simon’s grinning as he unlocks the door. “You still can’t stand losing. Not even at the smallest things.”

“I didn’t lose. You cheated.”

I follow him into his flat. It’s dark and wretched. There are too few windows and the room is small, the paint on the walls a dingy grey.

Walls which are empty. No posters. No pictures. I take in the lumpy sofa, the single scuffed up coffee table, the slightly crooked floor lamp.

Simon flushes. “It’s not much, I know. Penny and I had a nicer flat but I couldn’t keep up with the rent without a roommate.” He jams his hands in his pockets. “I’d only ever lived in the care homes, with you at Watford, and then Penny. Thought it was time I lived on my own for a bit.” He shrugs. “It’s all I could really afford right now.” It’s such a familiar motion, one that I remember well. Shrugs are a form of conversation for Simon. This one tugs at my heart.

“Show me the rest of it then, since I’m here.”

There isn’t much to see. A tiny kitchen, barely room for the sink, refrigerator, and a chipped two burner and stove combination. A small microwave takes up most of the counterspace. The bathroom is miniscule. I’m not sure the door could close if someone was sat on the toilet.

His bedroom is the only place that actually looks inhabited. There’s a bright comforter on the rumpled bed. An obligatory Liverpool poster marking his football club affiliation is tacked up on the wall. Stacks of papers and books litter the small desk.

And photographs.

Simon and Bunce. Simon and Wellbelove. All three of them and a dark-haired, dark-eyed man with such perfectly even teeth that he can only be Bunce’s American fiancé.

I stop at a Watford photo. It’s the class picture we took right before the Leavers Ball. We’re all kitted out in our best, the girls in dresses, the boys all in suits.

I’m there in the back. On the far left. Just next to Dev and Niall.

I’m not looking at the camera though. This isn’t the same photo I have, where I’m exuding boredom, one eyebrow up in disdain.

In this one I’m looking across and down, towards the ruddy-faced, smiling vision of Simon in the front row, flanked by Bunce and Wellbelove.

He’s not looking at the camera either. He’s got an arm around each of the girls, but he’s looking over his shoulder at something, only part of his face visible.

I think he’s looking at me.

Shame wells up, threatening to choke me. I was such a fucking wanker. I could have had … I don’t rightly know what I could have had, but looking at this photograph makes me realize once again what an utter arse I was. How I could have made things better—for Simon, for me, for just about everyone in our class who had to deal with our animosity—but I was too fucking full of myself to do anything but sneer and snarl at the person I cared for most.

The person who might have cared for me too.

Simon’s hand comes to rest on my shoulder. “Baz?”

I swallow and blink at the picture. “I’ve … I’ve not seen this one before.”

Simon tilts his head and regards it. “Yeah, Dr. Wellbelove took that one. Agatha gave it to me. I’ve got the official school one somewhere around here, but I like this one better. It’s more candid. He snapped it just before Mrs. Possibelf shouted at us to face forward and stop messing around.” He grins at me. “This is more how we actually were, I think, than the prats we all look like in the other shot.” He nudges my shoulder. “Except for you, you look like a prat in all of them.”

His eyes meet mine and the grin fades. “You all right, Baz?”

“I’m fine.” I’m not, not really. I hate the neighborhood, I despise this manky flat of his, I feel wretched at the thought of him coming home to this grey place, to spend his nights alone here.

But most of all I hate the person I was in this photograph. The person who couldn’t be true to his feelings. The person who couldn’t find it in himself to be the least bit kind to the roommate he was foolishly, hopelessly, irrevocably in love with.

“Hey.” Simon’s turning me to face him. “What’re you thinking about? You’ve got this pinched, pissed off look and it’s worrying me.” He tentatively reaches a hand up to stroke my hair. “I’ve never liked that look on you. It doesn’t suit.”

I drop my gaze to the floor. I’m desperate to pull the mask back up, smooth my features, toss my head and look down my nose at him to convince him I’m fine.

This is your second chance, arsehole, I tell myself. Whatever you think you should do is probably the wrong answer.

I reach up to clasp his hand. I close my eyes. “It just reminded me of what an arsehole I was back then, that’s all.” I force myself to open my eyes and meet his gaze. “I don’t like remembering that, how I was to you.” Fuck it all. I’m done for as it is. I may as well keep going. “It makes me realize how lucky I am now and how close I came to fucking this up for all time.”

Simon’s fingers tighten in my hair. “But you didn’t fuck it up for all time, now did you?” His other hand comes up to brush my cheek. “You were a right arse. But I was too.”

He sighs. “I didn’t really understand how I felt about you until a few days ago. It came on me, like a ton of bricks, at Ebb’s. But the thoughts I had about you there, the things I noticed about you? None of those were new. I’d had them before.” He tilts his head at the photo. “I’d not let myself think about it. Back then. Took ‘til now to figure it all out.” Simon gives me a tentative smile. “You always said I was thick, Baz, and in this case you’ve the right of it. I was thick. About this. About us.” He steps closer. “Not anymore.”

The words wrench out of me. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, Baz, if we’re going to start apologizing about every little thing we did to each other at Watford we’ll be here all night. It’s done. We’ve talked about it already. You were a wanker and I was a shit. We likely still are. And that’s ok.”

His thumb brushes over my cheekbone. “All that matters now is going forward, yeah? We’ve been shit to each other.” Simon’s brilliant grin is back. “Now we get to see how things are when we’re not.” His lips crash into mine, and I’m pulling him toward me, hands gripping his hips, fingers digging into him. The touch of him is electric, like sparks lighting at every point of contact.

My tongue traces his lips, slips between his parted ones to meet his, and I feel like I’ve had too much to drink; the feel, the scent, the touch of him, intoxicating me. I want to pull him closer, I want to fold him into my embrace, I want to throw back my head and laugh at the sheer joy of him.

I want to keep on kissing Simon forever.

Simon

We’re at my door now. Baz’s hands are running up and down my back. I’ve got my hands sunk into his hair because I can’t get enough of touching it. It’s soft and thick and it smells so good. I tug on his bottom lip with my teeth and he pulls me closer, until there is no space between us.

This is the longest goodbye I’ve ever experienced but I’m still not ready to let Baz go.

I need to. It’s late. He’s got a long drive back and I’ve got an early morning. The thought runs through my head to ask him to stay, but I push it away. I can’t ask Baz to spend the night. He’s just got back to his family, I can’t monopolize him like that.

I’m fairly certain I didn’t change the sheets before I left and almost sure the other set is crumpled up in my hamper. The bathroom’s nasty too. Can’t even remember when I cleaned it last.

There’s nothing for us to eat for breakfast.

I’m also not convinced it’s a good idea for him to have left the Jaguar parked outside for even this long, let alone overnight.

This is a shit neighborhood and a shit flat and I need to get Baz on his way home. I tear myself away from the warmth of his mouth.

“Hey. It’s late. I shouldn’t have kept you this long.”

“I don’t want to go.”

It’s so odd to hear him say things like that. I mean, he has, all these days, but it still brings me up short to hear him be so honest, so open about his feelings. I know it’s not easy for him, never has been I’m sure, but the fact that he’s trying says so much to me, means so much to me.

“I know. I don’t want you to go either but you’ve got a long drive and I’m a bit anxious about the Jag being parked out there.” I grimace. “It’s not unheard of for cars to get broken into around here.”

His expression becomes stern. “That isn’t making me feel any better about leaving, Simon.”

“That’s not what I meant. I’m fine. Everyone knows me around here. I’m not fussed about it.”

“You may not be, but I am.”

I roll my eyes. “I’ve lived here for over six months, Baz. It’s fine. Promise.” I poke him in the chest. “This is how most of London lives, you know. Not everyone has mansions with galleries and courtyards and dungeons.” I’m grinning at him now.

“There are no dungeons, I told you that.”

“Stop being so literal. You know what I mean, you posh twat.” I bring his face close to mine and kiss him on the nose. “Come on, now. Off with you. Text me what day is good for you this week. Any day is good for me.”

“I’ll call. Tomorrow.”

“I can’t answer between 9 and 4. I’ll be at the home and can’t talk while I’m there. But feel free to text, if that works.”

He nods, hands sliding down to grip both of mine tightly. “I’ll see you this week, then.”

I let go of one of his hands and open the door. I push him a bit, still holding his other hand in mine. “Go on then. Text me when you get home, so I know you’re alright, yeah?”

Baz kisses me one more time, open mouth and deep, like he’s inhaling the very sensation of me. When he does step back his eyes are a dark, turbulent grey, pupils wide. “I miss you already, you nightmare.” It’s said so tenderly, the insult at the end such an endearment in his voice now.

“I’ll miss you too, you tosser.” I say it back just as fondly.

Baz looks over his shoulder as he goes down the steps. I close the door when I can’t see him anymore.

And then, because I’m an absolute disaster, I dart across the room to the window, so I can watch him walk to his car. It seems to be alright. He lifts his head and gazes up at my building. I don’t know if he can see me, silhouetted in the narrow window, but I wave anyway. His hand comes up, then he slides into the driver’s seat, and I watch his car drive away.

Baz

I know what I want to do when I come back up to see Simon. I know exactly how we’re going to spend the time.

And it damn well won’t end with us at his flat, I can tell you that.

[necer0s]

So I just reread all of Mother of Learning in preparation for the big finale, and boy do I have a lot of Thoughts.  So I put them all in one post so as not to spam everyone.  

The summer festival planar alignment being an excuse for a huge political/social/academic party makes a lot of sense when you consider that this particular planar alignment is essentially the anniversary of the Ikosian Empire.

Can I just say that the Splinter Wars and everything that goes into them is an absolutely masterful piece of worldbuilding craft? Those combined events set the stage technologically, socially, and politically, at scales large and small.

I really enjoy the Northern Frontier chapters. Whenever I think about an epilogue, I always imagine that eventually Zach and Zorian will move north to settle some patch of land with their incredible skills. I feel that Zach wouldn’t be happy without the adventure, and Zorian would enjoy the relative isolation.

I also really like the mind magic in this series. It has a great set of abilities and limitations. Watching Zorian master those abilities and push those limitations is what makes his progress in the field so enjoyable.

Aranean culture is also fascinating. It’s kind of interesting that we explore a number of different web cultures before we really start exploring the different human cultures.

The foreshadowing in this story really is quite remarkable. Nochka and Raynie, two totally separate people with nothing in common other than being shifters, are both introduced to us in the very first chapter, however passingly. Eventually, Zorian is given completely different reasons to get to know both of them. And by the end, getting their respective stories is not only crucial to understanding the invaders’ plans, but essential to stopping them entirely.

The more I reread, the more I wish I’d read the conversation with the angel a few more times. I still don’t really understand why the angels chose Zach of all people to be at the center of the time loop. If it’s a matter of character, surely his Tragic Backstory should have made him look like a potential danger? With his history, there was always a danger that Zach would decide not to care about Cyoria or something.

You know, during this period where Zach is waiting for Zorian to show up... I wonder what’s going on in his mind? I mean, apparently Zach knows all this time that only one of the two of them can survive. But by the time they meet up again, he seems... antagonistic, maybe, but he’s also determined to get Zorian out of the loop pretty soon after talking to him. Is he hoping that they’ll find a way for both of them to live? Or has he already given up on life at that point?

Seeing the “original” version of the invasion is making me think about how Z&Z will defeat the real invasion. I suspect they might have warded most of the artillery magic targets, for a start... and of course, Zorian’s city-wide mind magic will be devastating.

I really do like Xvim. He’s just such a strong character. And yet we know so little about him! I really hope he doesn’t die at the end of the story.

I have to say, I much prefer when Zorian starts becoming exceptional, rather than merely competent. The basics are fun and all, but it’s undeniably more fun to watch him master more advanced skills like mind magic and dimensionalism.

Zach is such a wonderfully fascinating character. That was true even without the contract reveal, and with that information... he seems so carefree and happy most of the time, but he has such delightful hidden depths. The depression and rage were always sort of there, but it’s only with this new insight that I can see just how good a liar Zach can be. It’s not something you’d expect from him.

Random theory: is the Ghost Serpent a former god? He says that a past Branded One made him “fall”, and if anyone could cause the gods to lose their power and be thus diminished, it would be someone who had been through the full time loop.

I will never stop loving the reveal of how the time loop really works. It’s such a masterful culmination of foreshadowing and worldbuilding. “Time travel is impossible”, “blueprint conjuration”, “Black Room-style time acceleration”... the list goes on. Dozens of little hints and facts and observations all add up to this one revelation.

Zach’s determination to get both of them out of the loop is so bittersweet with the contract revelation. What is he thinking in this moment? Is he resolved to die if it gives them a better chance to save Cyoria? Is he quietly (desperately) hoping that if he saves Zorian, Zorian will somehow save him? It’s honestly heartbreaking.

You know, I’ve thought this before, but I really want Kirielle to end up learning from Silverlake in the epilogue.

Oh yeah, the Sovereign Gate belonged to House Noveda in the past... I wonder if the same is true of the Dagger? Even if it’s only the Gate, it does sort of imply that Zach is a distant descendant of the original Ikosian kings. Which might account for why he was chosen for the time loop...

I know that the story is supposed to be divided to into three Acts, but seeing Act 2 end at chapter 54 when the maybe-final chapter is going to be 101 really makes me think that it’s really a four-act story (partly thanks to later chapters being either longer or more plot-dense than early chapters). Maybe Act 3 should end when Silverlake leaves the time loop? There’s a certain symmetry in having each act end with the revelation that someone has left the loop.

So the gate has sufficient power for a thousand iterations even under the suboptimal conditions of this early activation. That’s... over eighty years. Easily a lifetime. At full power... would you expect to see two lifetimes? Five? Ten? That’s incredible power. And yet, for as relatively little time as they’ve had, Zach and Zorian have sure come a long way. By the end of the time loop, even counting Black Box time, Zach has had just about 40 years, and Zorian has had about... 15? Even with all the advantages of the time loop, it speaks to their talent that they both leave the loop as powerful as they do. For them to be as close behind Quatach-Ichl as they are, when he has almost a thousand years on them... it’s impressive.

I love it when Zach and Zorian start bantering. It’s a lot of fun, of course, but it’s also just... so good for them. It’s the kind of thing that just seems really healthy for both of them after how long they’ve been effectively isolated.

Have I mentioned recently that I love Xvim? He’s so totally down with Zorian being a powerful mind mage.

The reveal that Quatach-Ichl is wearing the Crown is such a delightfully sadistic moment. Like, you knew that gathering the Key was never going to be easy, but they went ahead and put the single greatest possible obstacle right at the start.

The Dragon Cult being worried that QI might try to betray them if he knew they were trying to control the primordial seems a lot like foreshadowing... as does Alanic saying that knowing the simulacrum spell is half of what you need to be a lich.

Daimen and Zorian meeting each other for the first time in so long is another one of those moments that makes me wish we could get Zach’s viewpoint on all this. Partly because I’d love a neutral perspective on their interactions, and partly because... what must he be feeling, as someone who lost all his family so long ago?

The wraith bombs are such a wonderfully horrible development. Not only are they about the most disturbing weapon imaginable, they make horrifically perfect sense in this setting. The perfect fantasy nuke.

The fact that the invasion is actually cancelled after the Ibasan Gate is stolen seems like a fairly significant point to me. (Especially since it happens before Silverlake joined the team, meaning she may not know about it.) If one of the first moves in the counter-assault is to shut down the Gate somehow (a sensible option anyway, as it would cut access to Iasku Mansion), there’s an increased chance of Quatach-Ichl deciding to retreat.

...I wonder if Zorian could dominate a couple soulseizer chrysanthemums and use them to fight Quatach-Ichl? They do seem like kind of the perfect option for something like that... I’m just imagining Zorian luring him into a seemingly undefended Noveda garden and then suddenly half a dozen tiny flowers pop out of the ground and try to eat his soul.

With the knowledge that Jornak is Red Robe, it strikes me as important to wonder who exactly it was that screwed him out of his inheritance.

Zorian is such an annoying little brother. I can’t blame him— it’s obviously self-defense against his asshole older brothers— but it is definitely funny.

Boy, every time Zach talks about his future instantly becomes sad when you consider the contract, huh?

Silverlake’s study of the primordials and their prisons is really worrying now that she’s working for the other side. Does she even need the shifter children to release Panaxeth?

You know, Silverlake suggests tracking Quatach-Ichl’s movements to try and find his phylactery, and Alanic agrees, but I don’t remember them ever actually doing that? That’s going to become extremely important by the end of the story. If they could just place the ring’s tracking marker on him, then send him back to his phylactery...

I really do love that dealing with both Quatach-Ichl and Silverlake has serious consequences. Powerful and ancient mages shouldn’t be completely at the mercy of anyone with a time loop, and these two certainly aren’t.

...so the Sovereign Gate can be used as a replacement for the shifter children, right? But the question is— is that true in the outside world as well, or only while it’s “attached” to him to create the time loop? The answer to that question will have a big effect on the final battle. (Could the angels possibly re-attune the Gate to a different primordial? Can the Guardian of the Threshold push Panaxeth back?)

You know, even having seen most of what’s coming, I can’t keep from imagining foreshadowing in everything that happens in this early part after leaving the loop. Like, is Bryn a spy for Jornak? That kind of thing.

Zorian says he has “that one trump card that no one but him knows about”. Boy, what a tantalizing line. Is he talking about bypassing mind blank? Being a lich? A secret spell formula weapon? We just don’t know.

Okay, here’s a thought: how does the contract kill Zach? Is there any way he could survive, like by becoming a lich? Or would it just... erase his soul?

I love that one of the necessary characteristics for the angels choosing Zach is him being dumb enough to agree to a mysterious contract presented by beings in a dream.  He’s Stupid Good by design.

You know, most of the angels’ concerns and precautions make sense to me.  Zach needs to be good, he needs to be willing (however dubiously), he needs to keep Panaxeth from escaping... but why is it such a big deal to them that no one knows about the time loop?  The Sovereign Gate can realistically only be activated by them, and if I understand its function correctly, once Zach went in, no one else was going to be able to use it for another 400 years.  

...oh shit, Zorian is going to put the grey Hunter in a box and send it at someone. Silverlake, probably— he knows for a fact that she can’t defeat it, after all.

It’s sort of ironic that Zorian is the one who will probably end up using the most monsters in the final battle, given how heavily the invaders rely on the monsters.

Ah, okay. The Sovereign Gate can’t serve as an alternate key to Panaxeth’s prison. That’s made explicitly clear. So no shifter children... no Panaxeth. (Except now that I’m thinking about it... what about Silverlake and Jornak themselves? They have a pact with Panaxeth and he literally created their bodies... that’s the kind of thing that could easily work.

[migleefulmoments]

I don't think anything of what the cc fandom posts anymore is "continued optimism". It looks like sheer terror that they're losing their game. Abby is in pure desperation mode, trying to rally the troops because she can see Darren's life is turning out to be nothing like she predicted. She can no longer validate that Darren NEEDS her, he keeps going against her. They're losing their grip. This isn't optimism, it's because everything Darren is doing equals Abby losing control of the narrative.

I agree with that they were in panic mode since the wedding but the 72 hours or so after Hollywood was announced they were euphoric that this was proof that Darren would be coming out soon.  That has worn off already and they are back to their normal crap but for a few days, they were giddy. They were even speaking about a divorce in very near future.

I am going on record, I like AW and I like her a lot.  She is team D, I really have no doubt and everything she is showing is that she is on his side and around to protect him often and frequently. 

Yes she is giving us the illusion that she and PBB are besties that love to take intimate photos together but in reality she is showcasing exactly who M is, how much she lacks chemistry with D, some really not so pretty moments behind the scenes btwn D&M (there was some golden footage from European trip number 1 includng that video from the fireworks where E is all snuggled into her man and D&M look like virtual strangers), she flew to that island to babysit, and she announced the business family honeymoon.

Keep your friends close, your enemies closer. 

AW is team d. She is a hard working, extremely successful men’s stylist with a pretty impressive client list at this point.  And while she would absolutely have loyalty toward D, as she built her career styling him, she should not be this involved. A friend just reminded me that her other client, FW is currently promoting the J/udy Ga/rland movie.  That is something AW usually would accompany her clients to, she follows D everywhere.  yet no one questions why instead of being with FW she spent 2 days in a row with PBB.

I think she and d are working together and i believe she provides d with comfort. She babysits M, she works as a buffer, and unlike so many other enablers, she has D’s back.  She is smart, she knows how to play M and her stans.  On the surface she looks like she might almost be in love with M (seriously she has way more chemistry with her than D), but it is all a mirage, done for show. And if you look behind a lot of what she posts, it is harmful to m/iarren.  

I know I have repeated the same think a lot over the past 48 hours, but I am so scared to allow myself to believe that change is ahead. And i got burned with ACS because I BELIEVED with my entire being this was the beginning of change and then everything escalated to full on disaster.  But I still think no one got burned more than D&C because I am fairly certain they thought change was ahead as well.(Again the narcissism just has to rear it’s ugly head). 

But I cannot stop myself from being optimistic and it is not just the RM partnership.  It is the totality of the circumstances. It is watching the past 7 months since the sham mockery.  It is seeing how they past 7 months were designed solely to promote her, not D, and done mainly using people only seen by fandom (her employees/friends, SK, PBB’s team).  She got the massive exposure and the press from the “wedding” and some RCs as the “wife” but not much more and has now been relegated to mainly being promoted by the aforementioned. And that is only seen by fandom. Add, for the past several months, D himself has hardly tried.  A random good pic here and there, but otherwise he orchestrated group honeymoons, barely touched her even when kissing, the jerk, bitch glare, the back turn.  D has gained nothing until now. He certainly did not do this for a show he sold 3 years ago that is being written by, like them or not, Hwood novices.   I hardly think he needed a wife to score the TB commercial. And SA doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who cares who d’s partner is, it was just a great collaboration.

And here we are, September, D is filming R/oyalties and we get the announcement that he is collaborating with RM again, not just as the star, but exec producer of a show that largely involves, based on early press, LGBT+ themes.  And I have to HOPE.

The stage is set.  D “married” her.  He has been set up to take the blame as well as his team, thereby absolving RM.  And it would make a lot of sense for RM to now step in and play the “hero.”  We know the truth. D and C know the truth.  But RM has the power to smooth what is going to be a difficult narrative to navigate. And it is a win for D&C and a win for RM.  The m/iarrens are going to be devastated, as they are so invested in being right and D being straight (No we aren’t)(again the narcissism and her soul-crushing need to be right-is this about Darren or Abby?).  And even if we just get a separation it will all be questioned. Because M is the only thing that makes him straight (not true, Darren identifying as straight is what makes him straight).  Everything else points at the opposite.  Add the press has not helped him at all on his path to come out, so it is going to be difficult to navigate.  Having the “king of television” in his corner speaks volumes.

And then there is his horrific, abusive, incompetent team. And they haven’t just fucked with him, it seems with their no queer article they fucked with RM.(Huh? What?) I really hope they live to regret it.

Karma is a bitch.. May she rear her ugly head and finally give these people what they deserve. If i am sitting here a year from now and nothing has changed, I will be heartbroken for him.  And wonder if maybe he did choose career.  I just can’t believe that is who he is. I think he is a fighter and everything he has ever shown confirms that (DELUSION-ville) thought even if there was some confusion when the fraud in NOLA first occurred.  

Here is hoping nonnie.  Here is hoping.

I think a major decision like this was made together.

Read the book when it comes out in Oct 1. I thought c references RM. now I’m near positive.

And Hwood itself was initially announced in February.  I immediately thought this was the project RM was cooking up (curious if FW and CF join the cast).  But then there was silence for months,

And the first 8 months of 2019 were a complete shitshow that included that absolute fiasco in NOLA, excessive PBB promo, ads, ads, ads, TB, and SK.  Not a single one of which were worthy of D’s time and attention.  And to all onlookers, we were dazed and confused.  utterly and completely and not sure what to think or believe.

But putting the pieces together prior to last nights announcement, logically and rationally looking at everything, it seems to me that finally D was tying up loose ends.  While I do think D himself was dazed and confused in the first few weeks after that fraud occurred, it has been clear to me that starting with the work family group honeymoon (I think of all the arrows to m/iarren that have been shot, this might be my favorite) something shifted.  How anyone can not see that that woman was being way over promoted is beyond me (Because “promotion isn’t a thing, Abby”). But clearly the 1st 8 months of 2019 were devoted to giving her everything and anything she ever wanted.  Add in SK, the biggest enablers, that are being rewarded, first by raising an obnoxious amount of cash, and now with R/oyalties with D’s writers being his partners in the business. All of these things are massive pay out.

And last night we get this announcement from D.

notes-from-nowhere

do you want to know what I find very intriguing in all of this? The fact that all of that has been said in this topic pretty much sums up what we have said in the last 15 months if not more.

The latest news only uncovers the thread that keep all of “out theories” together. Of course something might be wrong, misplaced or misunderstood but the big picture is there for all to see (No, you don’t say?).

I do think it is too soon for me to fully embrace the idea that finally things are on the right path but well, please, excuse me for my optimism after a year and a half of struggle.

I’m going to root for D to have back his life and to finally be free to make his own choices. I hope this career advancement (or for better wording: this career extension) will give him what he wants and the power to just be his fully self and spread his wings.

I will watch what’s unfold in front of my eyes with interest from now on and a reneview wave of hope. 

I do trust D is going to take the best decision ever among those available to him. My only fear is that those options may not be the one I hope for him but all I can do right now is wait and see. Hope for the best and expect the worst. Is the wiser thing I can do

ajw720

@notes-from-nowhere it’s impossible to not be skeptical. I didn’t see that “wedding” a 1000 miles away. (SMH) I care way too much (a me problem). I felt like my heart broke that day and I need to take care of me and be cautious. But I’m leaning this is good and I do think the public evidence to date supports this.

This is what euphoria looks like in cc fandom.  

It’s interesting that she convinced herself this is Darren coming out when she thought he would come out during Hedwig based on this:

He and C were very relaxed, joking at interviews when G/lee was ending, both in France at the same time, the C/ol-Fur joke, the repeated telling of mandate.  Everything seemed to point to a positive resolution.  C even scheduled his book tour to be finished the day prior to d’s last performance. and then D was nominated for an emmy and everything seemed to shift and spun out of control and here we are, 4 years later.

She “rationally analyzes” the data and comes to the conclusion he’s coming out rather than understanding he’s just living his life. 

[thedistantstorm]

Dawning Delights 09: Mistletoe

Summary: Hawthorne invites her newfound family in the Tower to experience a City-Style Dawning with the family that took her in years ago. The holiday is not without it’s charm, or aggravation, and certainly has plenty of surprises in store. A season-inspired, trope-tastic story about a family forged by something greater than blood, finding reasons to enjoy the season - and cherish each other. Main Post

Pairings: Hawthorne/Zavala, Sloane/Amanda, Devrim/Marc

“I hope you’re not angry with me.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re not the one who blabbed,” She reminds him, seemingly for the hundredth time since they left Command. “Sloane is. And I’ll remind her of that tomorrow.”

He wraps an arm around her. “You’re doing a good thing.”

“Glad you think so,” Suraya hums. “I know I said I’m doing this for Amanda, but-”

“It’s a treat for all of us,” He admits, though he's sure she could have inferred it. “It has been far too long.”

“I know.” She elbows him casually. He turns his head to press a kiss to her temple as she continues, “I’ll try and keep Amanda occupied for a night so you two can catch up.”

“Just find a race. She’ll be fine,” He muses. “Or throw her at Marc. He’s distracting enough.”

Suraya laughs. “Okay.” Upon realizing they’ve reached their destination, his Ghost appears between them, spinning her fins in preparation for transmat.

“You know,” Ghost says, as a very tastefully wrapped parcel appears in Zavala’s outstretched hands, and a classical-styled bag with simple tissue paper sticking out of it appears with the handle across Hawthorne’s palm, “The weather is perfect tonight.” Chittering in Suraya’s direction, she adds, “And there’s no storms on the radar.”

“Listen, if we got snowed in here, he’d be burning through the snow with flaming hammers.” Suraya looks to Zavala. “I’m not kidding.”

“It won’t happen, you heard her.” He nods toward his Ghost. “The Traveler buffets us from the worst of it, especially down here.”

She looks up at the white giant, its fragments making a gentle, lilac-white illuminated orbit through the light snow drifting down from above. “I know,” Suraya agrees, after a moment’s thought. Whatever it is that sobers her gaze, it eases when she looks at Zavala. He's similarly enthralled, and his Ghost takes that as her cue, disappearing from sight, content to let the two of them enjoy whatever malady is to come from this annual holiday celebration.

Suraya steps into the doorway of the Consensus building, just in time to catch Arach Jalaal giving her a brilliant - devious - smile. She scoffs, rolling her eyes and setting her gift on the large table set out for them to do just that. She's afraid to know what's in the black wrapped box with a silver and white bow sitting on the edge of the table, but the rest of the gifts look innocent and polite.

"No snooping," Zavala murmurs in her ear, setting his parcel carefully beside hers.

She purses her lips around the same time the Arach decides to make their presence known.

"If it isn't the happy couple!" He proclaims jovially, opening his arms as though he might embrace them both. He stops just short, taking a great slug of the cup of punch in his hand. "I, for one, have been waiting patiently for this confirmation."

"Happy Dawning," Zavala says, evenly, ignoring the faction leader's commentary otherwise.

"Uh, yeah," Suraya agrees lamely. "I'm gonna," She looks to Zavala who agrees with a single tip of his head, "Yeah. I'm gonna go get us some punch."

"I remember seeing the two of you, not long after you'd arrived at the Farm-"

Ikora seems to materialize at Zavala's side a moment later. "Arach," The Warlock cuts in, interrupting some sweeping narrative she does not care to pick apart for the sake of confirming its validity, "Excuse us."

To his credit, the faction rep lets them go without a fight. Zavala is too distracted to realize that just means he's going after Suraya.

"It's done," Ikora whispers, leaning in close, hand sliding across his back. From afar it looks like a friendly greeting. "I instructed them not to peek."

"Thank you," Zavala replies. "And Amanda?"

"Unhappy with me, but she'll get over it."

Zavala nods. "I trust your methods."

A slender hand pats his arm. "I'll babysit her myself if need be."

"Who are we babysitting?"

The Vanguard duo splits apart in surprise. "Hawthorne," Ikora greets, having rebounded faster. "Just Amanda. She isn't thrilled about the extra work I've given her."

"It'll be worth it," Hawthorne replies, dark eyes flickering between them. She doesn't see how Ikora's tight grip around Zavala's wrist eases and withdraws, hidden behind the dark fabric of the Warlock's robes.

"I agree," Zavala concurs, accepting the punch from Suraya. He takes a sip and winces. "This is absurdly strong."

Reaching a hand toward his cup, Ikora accepts it from him, taking a demure swallow of it. "Ahem. Wow. That's blinding." The Vanguard share a glance. "Was Eva in charge of the punch?"

"Are you two chickening out?" Suraya queries. "I thought the goal of this event was to drink ourselves into getting along."

"We already get along," Ikora says. "Last year I might have agreed with you, but I think I'll stick to the wine I know my," She looks to Zavala and pauses, as if gleaning something from his impassive expression. Her expression morphs into surprise. "Not wine?"

"Nope," Suraya answers brightly, already aware of what Zavala's gift to her is. "But if Hideo needs someone immortal to test the poison content of his gift, I'll sign you up. It's good stuff. Certainly stole enough of it when I was younger."

"Suraya."

"Please, it's not like he doesn't know that." She rolls her eyes.

"And you thought that would make for an appropriate gift, how?" Ikora questions.

"I left the receipt in the bag."

"That's horrifically tacky."

"It is," She agrees with her partner, shrugging as she grumbles under her breath, "But considering I paid about half a sparrow for it, he should find it well meaning if not enjoyable at my expense."

-/

As the night goes on, the Arach gets significantly more wound. He manages politely through the gift exchange, only making eyes at Suraya innocently when Zavala pulls out his present - it was not, according to the book jacket anything remotely inappropriate. When the Commander opened said book and recoiled, Suraya mouthed 'bastard,' at him and received a haughty smile in response. Zavala played it off well enough - there was a note on the inside cover of the gag gift that the book thought he'd just received would find its way to him after their recess - and thanked him just the same.

He doesn't completely stalk either Zavala or Hawthorne, either. Instead, he lurks. Constantly. Pretending not to be interested. Pretending to be invested in some conversation with Lakshmi and Hideo about whatever boring things happen within their factions that isn't dangerous to discuss while getting entirely wasted.

It's not Suraya that sits with him first, though, as he expects. She's always gotten along well enough with him, even despite her dislike of the factions. He suspects that's because his group is the most approachable. And the most prepared for their inevitable ruin, even if times like these make him hope it's a long way off.

"Clever idea," Commander Zavala says, joining him at the bar.

Jalaal raises a rocks glass in a casual toast. "It wouldn't be a gift exchange without something a little off-color to lighten the mood. Tried to keep it tasteful, but," He polishes off his drink and waves down the bartender for another, "You know me."

"I'll drink to that, this once," Zavala allows. "As much as it's infuriating, I've always… well, your humor can be as helpful as it is harmful."

Dead Orbit's wipes a fake tear from his eye. "A stirring compliment, Commander." He pulls a face and resumes his not quite brooding expression in short order. "Though I think the real winner is Hawthorne this year."

Near the gift table, there are four glasses, all filled with a modest amount of wine. The conversation is surely stilted, but in the name of the holiday, there is at least a temporary truce between the leaders of both the clans and New Monarchy. The absurdity of if has drawn both Ikora and Lakshmi in, eager to watch the proceedings.

"Unfortunately, I am certain he is sharing out of fear, not altruism."

"Of course he is." The Arach looks away from the rest of their group, eyeing the Commander from the side. "More witnesses if it's poison. Though, he knows it's not. She bought a vintage with a special seal. It was a smart move."

"She's a smart woman," Zavala counters.

"Well, at least they can discuss the one thing they have in common," Comes the reply. Zavala cringes. It's warranted as Jalaal continues, "Their admiration of you."

"I am certain they will not be discussing that."

"And why not?"

"Hideo has not spoken to me in person since the news broke regarding our relationship."

"I'm sure that's terrible for you," He says with mock pity. "Hawthorne is likely just waiting to-"

Zavala dips his head, contemplative. "She's not going to rub it in his face. I've asked her not to."

"Aw, boo. Where's the fun in that?" Some of his whiskey sloshes over the low rim of the rocks glass when he sets it down. Before long he'll be slurring. "He's known it was coming. Even if he didn't want to, he's not as stupid as he looks with his red hat and what-have-you. Hasn't said a word about wanting you to be his great and righteous sovereign for a while now."

"And that's to do with Suraya?"

"Yes, and no," Jalaal muses. "I'd suspect Suraya was a catalyst. The war has certainly made him consider other options, but, she" He jerks his thumb toward Suraya, "Changes people. Much as it pisses me off, I don't hate her for it. Lakshmi either, though don't tell her I told you."

"I might have assumed," Zavala comments mildly. "Though I suppose I'm a textbook example."

"Nothing wrong with that. Like I told her, you might as well enjoy what you can before-"

The Titan of Titans sighs. "Yes, I know."

-/

"You're being uncharacteristically kind," Hideo says, when Suraya gestures for him to return to their gathering first. It's only coincidence that they'd been out here together.

Hawthorne shrugs, looking down at her hands before meeting his dark stare. As for her kindness, "There's mistletoe in the doorway. I don't think either of us would want to be caught in such a compromising position."

"Likely not," He admits, gruff. Looking up, he spots the small, albeit fake sprig. "Can-" He pauses, as though he knows he doesn't want the answer to the question on his lips. "Can I ask you something?"

She steps back from the doorway, leaning against the wall of the not so narrow corridor that leads to smaller meeting halls and a quiet washroom around the corner. "Sure," She agrees.

"He does not do things by halves," Hideo says gravely, and it's obvious of whom he speaks. "I am not - my personal opinions aside," He manages, frowning. Frustrated, perhaps. "You are certain this is what's right?"

She knows what he's talking about immediately. Her eyes are heavy with the knowledge this conversation is potentially dangerous territory. "For the City?"

"For Zavala."

That's not quite the answer she's expecting, though both eclipse similar issues. Crossing her arms, Suraya purses her lips, chewing the inside of them as she thinks. "I didn't think so, for a long time. I didn't exactly volunteer to come back here, for what it's worth." They exchange a loaded glance. "That's not the point," She exhales, shifting her weight from left to right. "He knew he loved me a long time before I ever thought I caught feelings."

His frown doesn't grow more severe, but his jaw sets into it. "Doesn't that make you wonder if its-"

"Less?" She looks away. "Look, you have a wife, you two are happy enough, from what you say in passing. But you didn't fall in love with each other in the same moment. And a guy like Zavala knows himself. He's been around for eons."

"And he'll be around for eons after you."

"Yeah, probably. That does bother me a little." She waves off what is surely an interruption, clarifying, "Not because I'll get old, but because he'll be lonely again."

"Lonely?"

"Do you understand him?" She shakes her head. “Look. Everybody has these ideas in their head on what he’s about but they don’t know.”

“And you do?”

She tilts her head side to side, considering how to explain. “It’s lonely at the top. Whether it’s a clan or the Consensus or a faction… even a fireteam. I don’t pretend to know it all. But I know what it’s like to be alone because you’re just… different. Whether you chose to be or not.”

Hideo scoffs, “Jalaal insists you two are perfectly matched.”

“Jalaal insists that the world is ending, too, and you don't believe him. Why this? Why let it bother you?”

“Because I know the Commander has feelings for you,” He scoffs. “I see it, but... I just do not understand.”

“Well,” She begins, knowing full well he hasn’t, “Did you ask him?”

Incredulously, Hideo retorts, “Do you really think he would speak to me about something like this?”

“See, that’s exactly it.” She gestures toward him. “You see him as this perfect, be-all, end-all king and he’s not. He’s just trying to leave the world - the system, semantics - better than he found it. He’s just as human as you or me.”

“The Guardians are-”

“Just the same as us,” Suraya growls. “Their lives are longer, and their powers are different, but their mission is exactly the same.” She shakes her head. “Until you wrap your head around that, you’ll never understand.”

“You’re still just as mad as you were all those years ago,” Hideo comments, of her outburst. “I don’t like you, and I don’t support this… relationship.”

“I know you don’t.” She sounds tired. It’s like arguing with a wall with them. Neither side will ever understand the other.

“But," He muses, "I will not impede it.” He ignores her dumbfounded look. “Though, if you do something to jeopardize him, harm him intentionally, or misuse your position to gain power over this City and her people, know that I will not abide it.”

Suraya pushes off the wall, standing toe to toe with him. She gazes into similarly brown black eyes and dips her head in a resolute nod. “I’ll hold you to that, Executor.” She extends a hand.

Though it pains him greatly to do so, in the spirit of the season, Hideo reaches out his own. They will never see eye to eye on much more than survival and spirits (the alcoholic kind, of course), but they can be civil.

Although... it’s highly unlikely the hatchet will stay buried for long.

-/

Later in the evening, when the faction leaders are engrossed in conversations they'll only remember in pieces and the rest of the Consensus staff are warmed by liquor (though not to the same extent), content and comfortable to celebrate the season, Ikora slips out to a balcony to look up at the Traveler, underlit by the holiday lights. The cold does not bother her, for she has been one with the Void for a long time. In fact, she welcomes the sobering chill.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" A voice calls behind her.

She slides over on the bench, patting the space beside her. "Join me?"

"With pleasure," Zavala obliges.

Their Light blurs together ambiently, their Ghosts appearing in small starbursts above their heads before drifting back inside. There's no such thing as privacy between Guardians and Ghosts without effort, but theirs are accustomed to such facts.

"You're fidgeting," Ikora says gently, untangling thick digits draped across his thigh. He squeezes hers when they pull his apart. They're much smaller, nimble and spidery compared to his own. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"Not especially." His shoulders do not hunch, but Ikora leans toward him, so their arms are pressed together. "Anticipation."

"I'd suggest a drink but I'm certain you wish to have your wits about you."

He nods, swallowing hard and returning his gaze to the City, luminous, marble-white, and serene all around them.

"Cayde would be proud," She says to him, hardly a whisper. "I-I know-"

Zavala removes his hand from hers and pulls her in for a one-armed hug, feeling her inhale sharply once, twice, then regain control over herself. "Of the both of us, I would assume," He revises. "I am not the only one taking steps to secure my happiness."

"Yours are certainly bigger than mine," She presses. "Mine are-"

"Equally as brave, and just as valid," Zavala cuts in, resolute.

She harrumphs, straightening her back and craning her neck to look up at the underbelly of the Traveler. It's easier to wax poetic when she's looking away from his eyes and the unguarded emotion she can see in them. "You're taking a far greater step. I don't know that I'd ever want that," She considers. "But the idea of a family-" She exhales. "I don't know," She laughs, bitter. "I must have had more to drink than I thought." That's a lie. Ikora knows she's drunk. It's why she'd come out here to perk up in the cool air. "After everything, I-"

He rubs the tips of his fingers over the knuckles of her fist. "Do not discredit yourself."

"You sound like Ophiuchus."

One side of Zavala's lips rises in a quick, casual smile. "They know better than we do."

The silence between them is comfortable. Well-worn and familiar, highlighting that blurred line that makes friends into family. And they are.

Zavala voices it in not so many words. "You have one, you know."

She exhales: slow, calculated and smooth. Her dark eyes find his and she nods, letting him ground her. "Thankfully so." She considers. Changing the subject to something lighter, she tells him, "You know, I'm surprised you thought of a journal.

"I didn't."

"Suraya?"

"Asher."

"You talked to Asher Mir to figure out my Dawning gift?" Ikora shoves him more shocked than playful, and he rocks ever so slightly with the force of it. "You really do like me," She jests.

Zavala doesn't dignify the last part with a response. "He took great pleasure in belittling me while considering, I assure you. I didn't have the heart to tell him I've read his works."

"Even 'Existential Tyranny: Part 7?" When Zavala nods, she snorts, "Even I haven't read that one. Though," Sobering, she supposes, "Likely for the best."

"Besides," He levels with her, "I wanted to give you something useful."

She pats the supple leatherbound book beside her. It's large, and purposefully so, hand pressed to depict meditative circles across both covers and spine. "I will get a great deal of use out of this." The words are thick in her mouth, but emotions be damned, she says them anyway. "Thank you."

The Commander rises, offering a hand to pull her up as well. She takes it without thinking, linking their arms as they rejoin the party.

The loud drone of people is cut sharply by quiet expectation. Ikora huffs with a tiny, quiet laugh. "I don't believe I'm who they'd hoped to catch you under the mistletoe with," She drolls.

Zavala looks up. "That wasn't there earlier."

A quick peek at the Arach explains everything they need to know. Suraya stands beside him, sipping punch, cheeks flushed from intoxication while he whines about how it wasn’t supposed to be this way. She's patting his shoulder, looking rather amused.

"No," Ikora agrees, eyebrows arching up. "It was not."

"Well." He turns to the side and presses a kiss to her cheek, very chaste and tender, "Happy Dawning, my friend." Naturally the hall erupts into ridiculous cat calls and carrying on.

Ikora smiles politely, rearing back to whisper in his ear, "And allow me be the first to congratulate you."

[medea10]

My Review of Happy Sugar Life

[melodyalanaroster]

Animosity

Stress, constant stress... All she wanted was a simple day... A common one... A normal day of papers, classes, and being by Mr. Zaidi’s side. That is the simple desire that Melody harbored.... But, as life usually plays out, she was given a reminder that she doesn’t always get what she wants.

The year had been going fine... Well, as fine as it could go for the one year of college that she had to suffer through the whims of the Roster family. Witnessing Alana’s return wasn’t a pleasant experience. She thought she had been rid of them, for good. No more “multiple Melodys”, no more fame shoved in front of her by insufferable girls, no more being told that she is the “other Melody” or the “boring Melody”, no more foolish girls waltzing into her school and stealing the boy she likes, no more “rowdy Roster Sisters” causing trouble, no more Samantha, no more. But, when Alana returned, she seemed different. She demanded to continue being called “Alana”, she kept to herself, she helped people, and she kept her romantic focus on Nathaniel. “Maybe it won’t be so bad.” she thought at the time. Of course, it wasn’t long before her animosity towards Alana had been rekindled. As soon as people realized what Alana was, she became a bigger super star than Castiel, however, no one ever really challenged her, and when they did, she shot them down without hesitation. Alana had become an entity that unnerved Melody on every format, and she didn’t like that.

Still, at least Alana attempted to maintain a sense of civility. That’s more than what Samantha ever did. “Thank heavens that Sam isn’t here!” she would constantly think.... Until one day.

Another class had ended. She knew they had a few minutes before they had to start preparing for the next class, so she wasn’t too bothered by the conversation that had started between Alana and Mr. Zaidi. “And what books do you particularly favor, Ms. Roster?” “I truly prefer Dystopian Fiction, but I’ll read Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Detective Novels.” “Really? Dystopian Fiction?” “Yeah. The worse the situation, the better.” “Why is that?” “Because when the situation is absolutely horrific, the satisfaction from witnessing the destruction of the corrupt system is greater.” “Isn’t that rather taxing?” “It is.... Emotionally draining, even. But, I’ll admit, I’m a bit of a literary masochist.” “Okay, what’s the worst you’ve ever read?” “The Unwind Dystology by Neal Shusterman. It’s so dark that it makes The Hunger Games look like the Lollipop Guild. I had to read “The Fault In Our Stars” and “Paper Towns” by John Green to recover from that series.” Melody looked up from her papers and noticed it was lunch time. “Alana? Are you gonna join us for lunch?” Alana looked at her. “Nah, I’m gonna eat at the Tower, but I’ll walk out with ya’ll.” She sighed as they all gathered their stuff and began walking out of the auditorium.

“MELS!” someone called as Alana, Melody and Rayan walked out of the Art Building. Suddenly a look of horror appeared on Melody’s face as a girl with short brown hair ran up to and hugged Alana. “Sam! Hey!” Alana cheered as she hugged her sister. “Melody, is something wrong?” Mr. Zaidi asked. Melody remained silent. “Well, well, well... If it isn’t the biggest little kiss ass in Amouria. Long time, no see, Melo.” Sam chuckled as she looked at Melody. “Samantha, I thought you were off in the Military.” Melody croaked in an attempt to regain her composure. “Ken and I are training at the Tower for a bit.... Well, that’s the official excuse.” Sam slyly smiled and leaned her head towards Alana. “So, the two of you wanted to come home for a bit and used training as an excuse. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have gotten you to come home without using an excuse like that.” Alana grinned. “Oh, yeah, that would be a smart thing to do. Ken and I already get a bunch of shit from the other recruits because of your position... I’m not about to use your power to get what I want.” Sam rolled her eyes. Alana face palmed, the looked at Rayan, who looked confused. “Ah! Where are my manors? Sam, this is my professor of Modern and Contemporary Arts, Mr. Zaidi. Zaidi, this is my sister, Sam.” she introduced. “So, you’re the teacher my sister was talking about. It’s nice to meet you.” Sam held out her hand to Rayan and smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Roster.” Rayan politely grinned as he shook Sam’s hand. “Well, isn’t this lovely. But Mr. Zaidi and I really should be going to the lounge to get lunch.” Melody huffed, annoyed. Sam looked at Alana, then at Melody. “Always ever the responsible one. Come now, Melo, you two can spare a few minutes... Can’t you?” She smirked. “Unlike you and Alana, we aren’t in the Military or an organization of murderers.” Melody huffed. “Organization of murderers? I will have you know my sister is a hero!” Sam defended. Alana rolled her eyes. “Come on Sam, we really shouldn’t give Melody what she wants.” she urged. “No! This little witch, essentially, just disrespected you! You and I can go at each other’s throats, but you know the second someone goes for yours, I’ll be there in full force!” Sam’s voice began to get louder as she turned from Alana back to Melody. “Now, Melody, surely you can’t have forgotten what I did to you the last time you disrespected my sister when I was around.” Melody’s eyes grew wide, the look of horror attempting to make it’s way back to her face. “Ah, so you do remember.” Sam smirked. “I can’t allow this to continue...” Rayan started. Alana put her hand on his arm and held him back. “Ms. Roster...” He gasped. “Remember what I said about my sister and me being referred to as “unstoppable forces”? If you get in the middle of this, you might end up being turned to stone. I won’t permit that.” She explained. “Then, why don’t you stop it?” He asked. “Firstly, the last time I went up against my sister, there ended up being a treaty made between the Military and the R.D.R stating that she and I are, legally, not allowed to be enemies. We nearly killed each other that day. Secondly, if you knew Melody and Sam as long as I have, you’d know that there’s no point in stepping in. Melody is well equipped to combat my sister. From the looks of it, she might be attempting to make Sam look like the villain.” She explained. “Melody doesn’t seem to be the type of person to do that.” He replied. “Are you sure? That is the same girl who made a voodoo doll of me in High School simply because I entered into a relationship with the boy she liked, the same girl who attempted to turn several of my friends against me for the very same reason. Trust me, not everyone is what they seem.” Alana’s expression had grown deadpan. “But that was years ago. Everyone does stupid things when they’re young.” A look of shock had crept it’s way onto Rayan’s face as he spoke. “I applaud you for giving her the benefit of the doubt, but trust me, these moves were calculated. Regardless of the type of juvenile emotion that went with it, she still made moves against me in an attempt to give up something I held dear simply because she wanted it. People don’t simply grow out of that type of cunning selfishness.” She sighed. “Alana!” Melody cried. Sam looked at Rayan and put her arm around Melody. “Of course, our dear Melo wasn’t expecting one thing... Me to react. As soon as I got wind of what was going on, I took the voodoo doll and disposed of it properly... Then, as children usually do, she had to be taught a lesson... So, I rigged it to where, when she walked through the door to the Student Council Room, a tub of green paint would dump on her head and turn her skin it’s rightful color.” Sam laughed. “SAM!” Melody cried as she attempted to shove Sam’s arm off of her. “Alana! Stop her! Control your sister!” she yelled. 

Alana sighed. “Samantha, I believe you’ve crossed the line of being a simple bitch to being an embarrassment to the family. I think it’s time to stop.” she commanded. She turned to Melody. “Now, firstly, if you didn’t want that incident to haunt you, you shouldn’t have pulled the shit you did back then. I’m not excusing what Sam did to you... But you did make moves against me. Frankly, Amber was never half the nuisance that you were back then. Secondly, whereas Amber has apologized and shown remorse for what she did all those years ago, you never have. I’m not an unreasonable woman, Melody, if you had done as Amber has, I might be more inclined to be kinder to you. But, you haven’t. Instead, you’ve continued to be an insufferable brown noser... Hiding your venom beneath the guise of innocent assistance. You did the same thing back then, and you’ve done it multiple times to me recently...” She began. Melody looked disgusted and angry. Alana turned to Rayan. “Sir, I must apologize for this event. I have never intended for this type of thing to happen... In fact, I was hoping to avoid it this year.” she lightly bowed before turning to her sister. “Now, let’s go before you cause anymore trouble.” She put her hand on Sam’s shoulder and motioned for them to walk away. As they began walking, Alana turned her head back to Melody, one lens of her glasses had gone dark with a blue dot in the center . “Lastly, don’t ever think I can control my sister. That is one superpower I will never obtain.”

As they watched Alana and Sam leave, Rayan looked at Melody. “Are you okay?” Melody kept her eyes down for a minute, a look of sheer rage plastered on her face. “I hate them.” she muttered. “Perhaps it would be best not to antagonize the situation.” Rayan thought. “Come on, let’s go eat.” He insisted as they began walking to the dining hall.

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

I know, it’s about time I write this one! It was my plan since HSL to properly have Alana’s biggest in school enemy to be Melody instead of Amber. Amber is a bully, but Melody was worse. At least Amber was in your face about it, Melody was a backstabber. I’m glad I finally got to add this to Alana’s canon!

Credit goes where it’s due! FNAFfanart67 gets credit for the bases used for Sam’s and Alana’s sprites!

[fara-a-way]

He stirs from his sleep, amber eyes drifting to the reddish brown hair beside him, the lock of which obsures a dainty sharp nose and fair tanned cheek. He shifts again, feeling the ache on his shoulder to his neck, a foretelling of time that he wasn't as spry as he once was. The room was warm, uncomfortably so. He was more familiar with waking to a cold bed with only the blankets for comfort, and now there was a woman beside him, warm and plump and...

Wait. His mind turns their gears for any indication of familiarity. Last night, he regals to himself the daring legendary feats he had accomplished, the likes of which the world has never heard before (or of which his brothers had never heard from him and deny in abundunce that his tales were true and real). Then he remembers; he remembers nothing.

The figure beside him shifts, her breath turns uneven, and he knew she was awake. The foreigness of the situation compells him to speak first, but the akwardness keeps his lips silent, pressed together in a thin line.

She stirs, slow and softly. Something he expects from a woman, then again, who knows, he'd never bedded one before. The lock of hair shifts, and he finally has a clear visage. She was gorgeuos, his mind supplies. A beautiful young maiden, barely out of her teens, and suddenly he feels so guilty to have done this, what ever it was he did last night.

He felt her jolt to wakefullness, startled by unfamiliarity. Unlike him who chose to be startled in motionless shock, she immediately sits up, taking the meager blanket covering them both.

Opposites, Hades thinks to himself. They were opposites. Somehow he is attracted to her, he wonders if he appeals to her as well.

She was young, and shows a shyness that comes with youth. She had a fierceness in her evergreen eyes- ready for a fight, yet gentle and kind by her soft demeanor. She was fair with sun kissed skin and lusious lips, and her hair glows gold and chestnut brown in the sun light. She was the opposite of him, already old, confident in a way that he knowd he'd achieved something in his life. Cold. Some would even call him frightening. His pale fair skin was complimentary to his dark wavy hair which shows barely any glow to the sun's morning rays streaming through the large window.

Her hand goes to her head, she must be dizzy he thought, he reaches out to steady her, only for her to flinch away from him. He stops, and retracts his hand. For a while they only stare at eachother. Both unsure, confused and both were certaibly awkward.

"This is awkward." She says the thought in his mind.

"Yes. Yes it is." She notices the deepness of his voice and realizes he isn't as young as she thought he was. Last night... she remembers something epic. Something rebelious and and new and adventurous, the likes of which would show her mother's indignation and wrath! And it would be so WORTH IT! Last Night! Last night?

"Excuse me? Uh, who are you?" She asks. Ofcourse, she couldn't remember last night. She was extremely intoxicated...

"You don't remember me?"

"Well, do you remember my name?"

Hades stays silent... "Good point."

So he introduces himself again. "I know this is very unorthodox and incredibly unlike me, but Hi I'm Hades Olympus... and you're beautiful." he adds.

This got a smile from her, and for once Hades thanked Zeus in his mind for sharing some of his pick-up lines.

"Thank you. I'm Persephone Harveys... And my mom's ex used the very same pick-up line with her."

"Oh goodness, that must be quite a story." He says with faux confidence, at the back of his mind, he curses Zeus and his cliche pick-up lines.

"Heck it was crazy. You know, my mom told me to stay away from the guys who uses the very pick-up lines." She says, she gives nothing away with her smile but an up tit

lt curve at the corner that makes her look teasing. This got Hades back-pedaling, trying to save his ass.

"Oh really? Then will it count if I meant it? Not as a pick-up line. You really are beautiful Persophone." He repeats. He earns a blush from her, complexion darker and red, smile softening into something more flustered. He finds he likes her like this, visibly showing her true feelings.

"Well, my mom did say if its a pick-up line, and quite frankly I think you already got me hooked last night." She says more casually, posture relaxing, but still clutching the blanket to cover her parts. Then she thinks again, "Persophone is such a long name. My friends call me Peony."

"I actually don't remember what happened last night." Hades confesses, also finding himself acting casual around her, like he'd known her for eons.

"Me neither. What did we do?"

"I think we were too drunk to have done anything. I think we just took off our clothes and fell asleep." Hades adds. "But we can check..."

"Oh gods no. I'm checking my own parts."

"I was going to say the reception. They should know what happened, or at least the cameras would." Peony blushed redder, and Hades was very amused.

"Uh, yeah, right. That's a good plan." She thought of something important, by the way her eyes widened into plates, she realized she hadn't told her mom where she was. Hell, she didn't even know where she is right now.

"So, where are we?"

"I haven't a clue."

"This isn't your place?" She looked around the grey and white interior. The dark wood floors and the stiff sheets.

"We must be in a hotel." Peony mentions, "I hope you don't mind paying for this date. I'll treat you next time." She says as she gets out of bed, still clutching the sheets. Good thing there was another layer of white linen under the comforter, because that was the only thing covering Hades' nether area.

"I heard a next time. You'll agree to a next time?" He was hopeful of course. She was chill despite the circumstance. He really thinks he has a shot at her.

"Well, I'm not crazy about the gettung drunk scenario, but a date would be fine I guess." She walks to the comfort room, a bit messy with tracks on the floor, and smells all over the room like acid, like puke.

Then she looks at the clothes on the sink and the tub. It was her dress and his pants. His shoes were also on the corner, waterlogged and semi-salvageable. She thinks.

"Hades, I think our clothes are unsaveable."

Hades enters the comfortroom wearing a white robe from the closet. He looks at the clothes in the sink and the tub and blanches. Well, there's an explanation for this, he thinks, but now he'll have to make his assistants get some clothes for him and the girl.

"Well, I'm throwing those away." Hades says as he smoothens his wavy black hair from their tangles. "What's your dress size?" He asks her.

"medium. 8." She finds herself absentmindedly answering as she tries to salvage her clothes. She frowns once she sees the pink stain at the center of the chest.

"Shoe size?" Hades had located his phone and wallet at the table. He thanks his habit of taking them out and setting them somewhere. He was practically on autopilot last night, and he suspects that he was the one who placed everything in the tub and sink. Ofcourse he won't tell her that.

"6.7 or 7... Where are my sandals?" She questions as she searches the room. They weren't found anywhere.

"What did we do last night?" She says outloud.

"We got drunk, puked, danced in the rain and threw your shoes at the paparazzi." Hades had summarized. "I'm afraid its on the net."

"What?!" She pokes her head out of the restroom door, she was already wearing the second robe from the closet.

"There's some good pictures here." Hades comments, "but nothing overly horrific. Your face is also covered, so I doubt anyone will recognize you in all this."

"They stalked you?" Peony makes her way beside him, looking over his arm to see the pictures on Hades' phone.

"It's nothing major. I'll get my assistants to take care of it if you don't want to be seen."

"My mom would kill me if she finds out."

"Ok. I can fix this." Hades call his assistants. Peony doesn't want to intrude, but she over hears little pieces of the conversation as he walks around the room and opens the balcony. Something about telling Paula to delete the photos of last night and making Patricia bring them clothes, a complete set for him and a set for her with her sizes. Then to look from his creditcard where the heck they were, or use the GPS on his phone or something.

Honestly, she was curious. Who is this guy?

----

[scorpio-karma]

Unnecessary Drama TVD 2x17 Review

I guess this could be the title of the show, but feel this is especially true with this episode because right from the jump things are dramatic and I don't understand why starting with Jenna.  

Okay so since I haven’t been watching this consistently so I might have missed some context clues but rage and betrayal???? Rage and betrayal about what Jenna? Like, I understand being mad that they kept it from her but other than that am I missing something for this dramatic reaction to Isobel just saying hi. Have they been lying about something she knows about now to build up to this point, but even if so I don’t understand this dramatic reaction. Fundamentally I know why she’s being like this, the writers needed an excuse to send Jenna away. However with in the context of the plot it makes absolutely no sense and makes her seem childish in ways she’s not supposed to.   

And Elena, I guess I should be proud since she's never seemed more like a teenager than now, but blaming John for this. What even logic? Does she remember the argument she had a few episodes ago with Stefan about getting Isobel and they ended up with John TO GET TO ISOBEL. Looks like you're boyfriend's plan worked. Now I'm not advocating that she be mad at Stefan but you want to be irrationally mad why not direct it at the right person. All John has done since getting to town is protect his daughter which frustrated me whenever she'd tell him "not after everything you've done" WHAT HAS HE DONE? Someone sincerely answer that question because I'm drawing a blank. It's crap like this that fuels the mentality this fandom has of "you're mean to my favorite character so your a bad person" because if Elena, the character the writers are so keen on me caring about, does this why would the fandom be better. So he tried to kill Stefan and Damon, his logic of protecting Elena still stands since they haven’t really done anything worthy of “I’m different” in terms of vampires. 

Also, you know the more I rewatch this the more and more sympathetic I am towards John, and he seems more and more sincere. While I didn’t hate him in my first watch I was always suspicious of him and that’s because the characters of the show build this suspicion around him. Now knowing his endgame as a character I don’t buy into this suspicion anymore because he has always been honest and sincere about his motives as character and they never involve harming other people. He spent his who existence on making sure his daughter had a good life, he wasn’t about to let two vampires she “loved” ruin that. Granted not all teenagers are clueless and not all adults are always right, but in this instance teenage girl is clueless and needs to listen to the actual adults. 

I've never really realized how little I care about Alaric and Jenna as a couple until episodes like these. He really never seems like he cares about her that much until he's about to lose her which is a red flag in my book. And I guess that makes sense since there was really nothing to hold the ship together, it was just "you're attractive" and "you're attractive" and nothing went beyond that. They never had a deep connection and it shows in moments like these where he doesn't care about her unless he's about to lose her. 

Ford product placement. I know I sound like the CinemaSins guy but they are really not subtle about this. It doesn't actually surprise me much since when I used to watch it weekly back in the day I remember them doing this often especially with songs but it was always with the car. Before it was Bonnie's Prius other than that I don't remember what the car was I just remember "hey this is a great song" and then the network notified you what the song was playing. Product Placement! With this episode in particular it really bothered me with how they shot it because it pans to the rear of the car, shows the license plate, then like shows her in the car, and they make it seem really eerie like she's about to get run into, or someone is watching her but neither are happening it's just Ford product placement. It was like, thank you for this unnecessary scene and this unnecessary shot to please your sponsors.  

For all of Carol Lockwood's failings I'll give her this: she notices when her kid is it's missing which is more than I can say for most of the adult characters here. Did Jenna really even notice when they sent Jeremy away? I don't recall the Sheriff being all that interested in where Caroline was for those days she was with Damon? I guess she wasn't gone because they hid out at her place but seriously how didn't she notice anything going on with her daughter then? And Jenna literally ups and leaves when she feels like it.  It's what made her death actually sad—her love for her son which I'm glad for since TVD does such a bad job with familial bonds, but she is the only character besides John to seem like an actual parent. 

I still don't understand why Jeremy is there. Like I always knew he was third wheeling it on their plans every time I guess it was nice it was always about Bonnie but other than that I was like, dude you have no function, what are you doing here? I mean I guess Damon doesn't really need to be there, actually no, scratch that, he was needed to find the place and then after that he leaves which is what Jeremy should have of done.  

Which idiot hid the moonstone? I bet it was Damon, but I don't understand why he has it when Lucy gave it to Bonnie. Like I said I haven't been watching consistent enough, the episode this occurs I watched over a year ago but I don't remember Bonnie giving Damon or any Salvatore the moonstone. And can we talk about how lame the name is "moonstone" it gets more and more ridiculous the more everyone says it. It sounds like something written by a child. But serious I get he was going for “in plain sight” but the bathroom which is frequented by many people including one you let in who you don’t trust. Y’all shoulda left that with Bonnie who could at least seal it in a place with magic.   

Why are Bonnie and the Bennett’s the only one to be put through pain, like they're the only ones to have horrific deaths, and even worse, why do her ancestors insist on putting her through more pain?  

I thought it couldn't get more cringe worthy than when Damon was essentially reciting his lines earlier about trying to save Emily, but dear lord Matt. He doe not do anger well, he looks like someone told him, now, be mad, and gave the director the best he could muster up which isn't great. But he did better with the deception, even though I knew where it was going I doubted myself for a moment and thought maybe he was sincere. And his conversation about Caroiline with her mother saying “I think she died” while was actually very touching also just reminded me of the many times Bonnie died and it’s never confronted but Caroline, who I’ve noted on many occasions is barely relevant to the plot, has this confronted multiple times and she only died once. Just saying--this blatant favoritism toward Caroline that tends to always result in Bonnie being treated less than human gets on my nerves so much I can’t even enjoy what would otherwise be a great scene.    

I've seen a weird amount of hate for Isobel which I find weird. Not because she's a good character or anything, but because of how much of a blimp she is on anyone's radar. Even her actions compared to the others are so small. There could have been a nuance to her character and to a degree it's there because her motives were clearly protect Elena, but beyond that she was always kind of lackluster. Also added with Nina’s acting, or lack there of, when she dies in front of her just makes me even more confused as to why anyone cared enough to hate her. Even when Elena is saying she’s sad I can barely believe it because well Nina doesn’t sound sad when she’s saying those line, she just sounds like she always does which is why always found it hard to empathize with her in the beginning of the show. The only reason I knew she was sad about her parent death was because she said it, there was nothing that really emoted this feeling. If she can barely muster up feelings of grief how am I supposed to even sympathize about it. That just distanced me from feeling like they were real people that were in her life, and just made them random fictional characters to add a tragic backstory. It’s really no wonder why I never really cared about Elena from the start.

"If you use to much power you die," how doesn't anyone else already know this? That's literally what killed her Grams which brings me to Bonnie, she always knew this, saw it happen, but why is she so keen repeating history. If she truly believes her powers are meant for more then she should probably know that they were meant for more than saving Elena’s life. But of course this is The Elena Diaries so that’s never going to happen. Instead we’re going to have Bonnie’s mother risk her life and leave her daughter all to protect Elena, because that makes a lick of sense. 

Bonnie their secret weapon, nothing has ever been more cringe worthy. Seriously watching Damon and Stefan discuss Bonnie like she’s an object they possess has never sat well with me. This is again one of those moments where I can’t get on board with Stefan as a character because he isn’t better, he’s just better than Damon and in this moment he’s proving to be the exact same as Damon if not worse because he’s the first to note this--he was the one to look back at the situation and point her out as their object leading the conversation there.

Klaus in Alaric’s body, you know I always felt he did possession bad especially in season 3, he just seemed like a creep and not in the way he was supposed to, but here he did an exceptional job. I almost wish Joseph Morgan had taken more cues from his portrayal because he managed to get the “ancient being” in his voice and mannerisms better. It’s like with JM they just told him “be British and use Shakespearean English” and called it a day. I’m not saying I didn’t like JM version of Klaus, but it’s clear where they started going wrong with this character. With the way Alaric is portraying him he is the most intimidating he’s ever been and that’s because everything built around him is actually living up to the hype. The show later just paints him as a whiny man with daddy issues and no real goals because trust me his plans get ridiculous after that and they dropped pretty much everything about Klaus from season 2. I probably would have enjoyed Klaus more if he had stayed this version, or at the very least did something worth while because I think we can all agree that the hybrid subplot was just a complete mess and pretty much marks when Plec took over as show runner because she has never been able to see the full picture. She just writes as she goes and hopes they connect at some point. psss, they never do.

Overall the episode was frustrating, but every episode is which is why I have to have at least two drinks before watching. Which I honestly don’t know why I do. I got drunk for the finale and that didn’t make anything seem even the slightest bet better, so why would it now. However in my defense, the finale is a complete incomprehensible mess so nothing was going to make it better in the first place.