#anyway you ever get treated like a child despite being a full grown adult

[clarasghosts]

i know i just made a claudia post two weeks ago (and i've chatted about it with friends), but i have to say something again because i'm not ready to let go of her yet. to me, claudia is the most relatable of all the characters in the show. while vampirism is repeatedly shown to have its drawbacks, claudia specifically demonstrates what it means to feel stuck in life. uniquely among the characters, claudia is barred from the traditional markers of adulthood. our society's predominate concept of womanhood, specifically, is being a wife and a mother (don't worry about your silly degree and career ambitions, you'll feel most like a woman when you fulfill the social roles of a woman). the other vampires take companions, have partnerships, have roles within society or within their covens. they can create other vampires and become something like parents, but claudia can't even do that. despite being, at this point in the series, in her forties, everyone around her treats her like a child. she will never grow up to them. it's not just that she looks like a child, it's that they are furious when she expresses how hurtful being treated like a child is. throughout both seasons, they are condescending to her.

and she can do it on her own. she knows she can. she did it on her own for years. even when she had louis by her side, she was still largely holding it together on her own. but it's exhausting doing it on your own, it leaves you hollow. she doesn't want to do it on her own anymore. she wants love, she wants community. and finally, she finds people that she thinks she could belong with and love, but they don't want her. they don't really see her for her, either. so she decides she'll make her own path, and she finds someone who does, finally, see her. who loves her. she claws her way out toward something better.

and they'll kill her for it.

[n00dl3gal]

Like Old Times (Father-Son Bonding AU)

A direct sequel to the “Expiration Date” fic, which I’ll link in a reblog. I’ve also posted all my fics in this AU to AO3!! Thanks again to @thetriggeredhappy for their help and just generally being a cool dude, and the Scoutsune Discord server for indulging my brainrot

No warnings beyond family schmoop!

Less than an hour after the bread monster incident, the Administrator called for a ceasefire. “Only while your base is repaired,” she said over the TV screen. “BLU is quite disappointed in this negligence- as am I. Regardless, you may use these three days as you see fit. Go home, stay here- whatever you do, no more bread monsters.” The screen turned off with a click. 

Scout exhaled through his nose. He was thankful there was no mention of him or Miss Pauling’s woodchipper. 

Spy decloaked behind him. “Less time than I wanted, but c’est la vie.” Scout looked at him over his shoulder. “I’m meeting with an old contact during our break,” Spy said in Italian. “Would you like to come along? It’ll be like old times.” 

Scout’s brow furrowed, but he nodded. At least this way, he’d get out of helping Engie and Heavy with repairs. And possibly meeting Miss Pauling’s woodchipper. 

“Excellent. Our flight is at 7 AM tomorrow.” 

“We’re flying commercial?” Scout asked, also in (more hesitant) Italian. 

“Our destination is continental. We’ll leave the base by 5:30.” Scout groaned as Spy started to leave. But- wait, he hadn’t- 

“Oi, where are we going, anyway?” he called back in English. 

Spy paused to look at him and smile. “Boston.” 

“Why do we always get the ass-crack-of-dawn flights?” Jeremy asked groggily, reclining his seat.

“They are the ones with first-class seats available,” Raphael replied. He took a sip from his mimosa. 

“Yeah, cuz God forbid you fly coach for once.” Jeremy shifted, trying to get comfortable. “Hey. Have I ever been to Boston before?”

Raphael didn’t answer immediately. His lip sucked in, as if in thought. “Yes. When you were very, very young. You wouldn’t remember.” 

Jeremy nodded. He wanted to ask more, there was something Raphael wasn’t saying but… well, he was never a morning person. He fell asleep before the plane even took off. 

. . .

It was mid-afternoon by the time they landed in Boston. Jeremy was never fond of long flights; having his legs cramped like that for extended periods of time was murder. He was half tempted to take a jog around Logan International. Raphael, on the other hand, was ushering them both to the car rental. “Can’t even get a stretch in, huh?”

“Unfortunately, we are expected by 4, and I would hate to keep my contact waiting,” Raphael explained in French, accepting the keys from the girl at the counter. “She’s not a very patient woman, in some regards.” 

Jeremy huffed but didn’t argue. He just followed his father to the rental, tossing his suitcase in the backseat. “Y’know, the girl at the counter-” 

“We will not have time for you to go out on a date, Jeremy.” 

“No! No, it was- her accent’s kinda like mine, it’s weird,” Jeremy said. Raphael started the car. “Cuz I’ve only been here as a baby, and I got mine from TV and shit. It’s just… really strange, is all.” 

Raphael made a quiet noise of agreement. “Some of the shows you watched as a child were filmed here. It’s not as complex as you think it is.” 

“Yeah, probably not…” 

The pair lapsed into silence as Raphael drove. Storefronts and high rises morphed into houses. It had been a while since they were in a residential area. RED, for understandable reasons, kept away from civilians. 

Raphael took the roads with practiced experience. Sure, it had been implied he knew the area. If he had a contact here- one with a house, presumably- he must’ve spent time here. But this- this was far too familiar. A bit suspicious, actually. 

Eventually, Raphael slowed in front of a more rundown Brownstone. Still quite nice, just needed a little work. It felt… welcoming, in a way Jeremy couldn’t name.

“Lotta cars,” he observed as Raphael parallel parked. “Must be a party going on somewhere.” 

“Hmm, perhaps,” Raphael said, turning the car off. “Would you mind ringing the doorbell for me? I need to grab something from the trunk. Ask for Sara Jane.” 

OK, now Jeremy knew something was up. He was never the one to make the first contact, that was always Dad’s job. Jeremy might be a full-grown adult, but there were some things that didn’t change. This was one of them. 

Still, he nodded. He climbed up the front steps and ringed the doorbell. He heard- multiple voices from inside, predominantly male, but they quickly silenced themselves. A TV, perhaps? They really ought to get that flower box on the second story window fixed- 

The woman who opened the door was a bit shorter than him, though not by much. She was wearing a simple dress, hoop earrings, and flats. Her hair was dark, curved to her chin. But her nose and earlobes felt… achingly familiar. Like Jeremy saw them all the time. 

“Um, hi, I’m looking for Sara Jane? My name’s-” The rest of his speech was knocked out of him as the woman launched herself at him. Jeremy braced for an attack, but quickly realized she was… hugging him. 

She was hugging him, sobbing, and choked out the word “Jeremy.” 

Wait. He knew that voice. He had only heard it a few times in his life, few enough he could count them on one hand, but he knew it. “M-Ma?” he whispered. 

The woman- Sara Jane- Ma looked up at him, still crying. Her hands found his face as she observed him. “Y-yeah, sweetie, it’s me, it’s-it’s your ma,” she said. 

“Ma!” he laughed, tears of his own dancing down his cheeks. He hugged her back, practically lifting her off her feet. “Oh my God, Ma! I-I never thought I’d-” 

“Oh Jeremy, sweetie, look how tall you’ve gotten! Last I saw you, you fit in my arms! My baby, my handsome baby,” she spoke over him. She rubbed circles into his back as they embraced. It felt so, so right. 

Jeremy laughed even harder. “Are you kiddin’? I got it from you, you’re beautiful, Ma!” He stared at her, trying to commit every mole and wrinkle and perfect flaw to memory. “I can’t believe- oh my God, I’m actually meeting you!” 

“It was long overdue,” another voice said, as Raphael joined them on the front stoop. “I had put it off for safety reasons, but considering our current, ah, situation… I felt it was worth the risk.” 

Sara Jane squealed, pulling Raphael into the hug as well. “You’ve been taking good care of my boy, you promise me, Raphael?” 

“Don’t worry Ma, he’s the best dad I could ask for, considering,” Jeremy teased. 

“Oh, don’t I know it. Called me up last night and told me to get the whole motley crew together. Even managed to get Melvin to bring his twin daughters, bless his wife’s heart,” she explained. 

Jeremy blinked. “Uh- Melvin? Daughters?”

Sara Jane laughed. It sounded so much like Jeremy’s it practically hurt. This was his mother. Lord, he’s finally seeing her. “Melvin’s your older brother, sweetie. Eh, sixth oldest. Bobby’s the oldest.” 

“I have a brother?”

“Oh honey, you’re the youngest of eight,” Sara Jane said plainly. 

“...fuck,” Jeremy whispered. 

. . .

He didn’t just have seven brothers. He had seven brothers, four of which brought their wives, one who brought his boyfriend, and three who brought their kids. And the kids totaled to an additional six, counting the babies. 

It was… an admittedly tight squeeze in the living room. 

Sara Jane introduced Jeremy. Jeremy had been expecting to be treated like a stranger. He had vanished when he was a baby, after all, and his younger-older brothers probably wouldn’t remember him at all. 

And yet, it was like he knew them all his life. 

They teased him and punched him playfully and acted so friendly, so familial it nearly made Jeremy break down. He was still crying from meeting Ma, but being dogpiled with so much affection was suffocating. In a good way. He had seen on sitcoms the intrinsic bond between family, and while he felt it with Dad, they also risked their lives nearly daily. But it was real, it was here, and it was wrapping him in a warm blanket. 

Despite the chaos and the sheer number of people, Jeremy didn’t feel overwhelmed. He laughed and played along with their jokes, cracking some back when he could get a word in. Scott ragged on his dog tags, he countered by pointing out the hole in his pants. Michael told him he was still a shortass, he replied with “it takes one to know one.” Elliot and Ricky were the closest to actually getting hurt, and that was only because Jeremy elbowed them both so hard they nearly fell over. 

For the first time in 25 years, Jeremy understood what “home” meant. 

The kids were especially curious, eager to meet their uncle and step-grandfather. Within seconds, young Rebecca- only four years old- was challenging Jeremy to a race around the house. “I’m the fastest kid in the world,” she bragged, puffing out her chest. 

“Oh yeah?” Jeremy asked. “That a fact?”

“You wanna test me? I beat Johnny Three-Legs at running, and he’s got three legs!” Jeremy laughed and stood from the couch, letting her lead him outside. “On the count of three, OK?”

“You’re on, pipsqueak,” Jeremy teased.

“Onetwothree GO!” Rebecca yelled, taking off in a sprint. Jeremy knew that, by all accounts, he should beat her. His legs were longer, she didn’t have the proper running stance, and it was his job to be fast. That’s what he got paid to do. But some small voice was telling him to let her win, so he did. “Ha! I told ya!” 

“Ya sure did,” he replied, mock panting. “Look at you, a freaking blur on the green. You’re goin’ to the Olympics, kid.” 

Rebecca beamed and hugged his leg. “Promise, Uncle Jeremy?” He nodded because, after that display, there was no way he could speak without squeaking like a chew toy. 

Rebecca skipped back inside, past Raphael, who was watching on the stoop. “You’re a natural with children,” he observed. “I used to do the same thing when you were that age.” 

“Wait- wait, really? You sure fooled me,” Jeremy said. 

Raphael rolled his eyes. “What’s my job again, mon lapin?”

“Yeah, yeah…” Jeremy leaned against the railing, watching Raphael’s cigarette smoke in the wind. “Hey. Uh… thanks for arranging all of this. You really didn’t need to.”

“But I did. I meant it when I said this was overdue. I’ve been wanting to introduce you to the rest of the family for a while, but have been unable. Then that whole ordeal with the supposed tumors, and-” Raphael exhaled slowly. “It wouldn’t have been fair to you if you died without knowing them. I would’ve never forgiven myself.” 

Jeremy punched his shoulder lightly. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, pops. It all worked out, we’re still kicking, and that roast chicken Ma’s making smells incredible. Everything’s perfect.” 

Raphael finished his cigarette and smiled. “Oui. It is.” 

. . .

While Sara Jane had been able to get the rest of the family here, it was a school night. Kids needed to be tucked in by 9:30, so most of Jeremy’s brothers were gone by 8. Elliot was staying overnight, as was his boyfriend. Otherwise, the house quickly went from bustling to barren. 

It gave Jeremy a chance to explore his would-be childhood home.

He made his way upstairs, pushing open one of the doors. It led- to little surprise- to a bedroom. It was set up like a nursery, with a crib in one corner and a toddler bed in the other. Toys were scattered about across the floor. 

He heard Sara Jane sigh behind him. “This was your room, you know.” Jeremy turned to look at her as she flipped the light switch. “That crib… I had put you to bed the night your father planned to fake his death. I was in on the whole plan, naturally. He wanted to hold you one last time, so I said OK. When I woke up the next morning… you were both gone.” She exhaled slowly, grabbing onto his shoulder. “I wrote both of you off as dead, but I knew what had happened. Honestly, should’ve figured it out before then. You hadn’t woken me up crying,” she joked. Her eyes were watering. 

Jeremy hugged her, pulling her close. “You never took the crib down?” 

“By the time I was ready, Bobby’s wife was pregnant, so I kept it up for my grandbabies. I knew- I knew you were out there, sweetie. Both of you.” She kissed his cheek, squeezing him.

“I-I never got to be a normal kid, really,” he confessed. “I mean, Dad did his best, gave me comic books and board games and stuff, but-but I never went to school or made friends or anything like that. I-I didn’t even know I had a family. It took me forever to even realize I had a Ma. An-and everything I did-” The tears were flowing again, more freely than earlier. “Ya missed me losing my first tooth, and potty trainin’, and all that stuff parents should know about. I-I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

Sara Jane wiped his cheek dry. “Don’t apologize for what your father did, Jeremy. And definitely don’t apologize for me not potty training another kid. Besides… hold on, I’ll be right back.” She made her way down the hallway. Jeremy didn’t follow, instead deciding to examine the crib. This was where he grew up. It was a simple crib, obviously well-used. Not worn-down, mind, just… used. It had a history. A history that Jeremy wanted to decode, but unlike his dad’s ciphers, he didn’t have the key. 

“Took me a second to find it,” Sara Jane said. She handed him what appeared to be a scrapbook. “Raphael- he wrote when he can. Taught me some basic codes, would send out letters whenever you’d leave a town. Never left a return address, but…” Jeremy flipped through the pages, moving to sit on the small bed. The letters were all coded but appeared to be about how much Raphael missed Sara Jane. Updates on Jeremy’s growth. Letters from a father to his lover and son’s mother. 

One page jumped out to him, though. “I remember this,” he said, running his fingers against the paper. It was a simple drawing of a young boy, holding a catcher’s mitt, and a taller man next to him. “I drew this after Dad took me to my first baseball game, for my eighth birthday. I thought I lost the drawing after we skipped town, but- he sent them to you?”

Sara Jane nodded. “And I kept them all. Oh, honey, the day I first heard your voice on the phone- Mikey can tell you, I damn near fell over. You sounded so happy, and even if I couldn’t see you, that’s all a mother wants.” Jeremy leaned against her and she shut the book. “That’s all a mother wants, sweetie. To see her kids be safe and happy.” 

“I am, Ma,” he assured her. “I promise.” 

They sat like that for a while, with Sara Jane commenting on various letters and drawings in the scrapbook. Apparently, Raphael sent her money when he could- more frequently now that Mann Co. paid so well. She also had a rough idea of their current occupations. “I figure, if you and your father are working for the same company- with his skills, there’s gotta be a whole lot of nonsense going on out in that desert.” Jeremy laughed at that because she wasn’t wrong. “But I also figure since he raised you right, he’ll keep the both of you safe.” 

“I keep him safe too, don’t worry,” Jeremy added. “Uh- listen, it’s touching and all you kept the crib, but I don’t have to sleep in it, right?” 

They both had a good chuckle over that. Their laughs were in perfect harmony. 

. . .

The next two days were a mix of learning the family history and exploring Boston. It was the offseason, so there weren’t any games going on at Fenway, but Jeremy still got a picture in front of the park. Sara Jane took the pair to a restaurant that served “the best damn clam chowder in the contiguous United States.” Which, incidentally, led them to discover Jeremy was allergic to clams. Thankfully they didn’t have to go to the hospital- he just sort of immediately got sick before it passed- but it did suck.

It was damn good chowder, though. 

They went down to the harbor where the Boston Tea Party happened. It was crowded with people, resulting in them not staying long. Jeremy was a bit better with crowds than Raphael, but neither was great with them. Came with the job. Getting overpriced memorabilia from a nearby gift shop, though, went over much more smoothly. 

When not out on the town, Sara Jane dug out more scrapbooks and photo albums, catching Raphael up on what his stepsons had been up to. She showed Jeremy pictures from Ricky’s first school play to Scott opening up his butcher shop. Graduation pictures, wedding pictures, baby pictures- it was all there, and Jeremy devoured it. He wanted to know these people. He wanted to know his family. And he did. He learned about Michael’s stint in the Navy, Melvin meeting his wife, how Bobby’s son could dribble a basketball for twenty minutes straight. He learned about how his parents met. How Raphael loved each of Sara Jane’s children, even if they weren’t biologically his. How Jeremy wasn’t planned- few of the kids were - but they were both so, so happy to realize he was coming. 

He also learned that, while diner food would remain the undisputed king, homemade meatloaf came pretty close. 

. . .

The only problem came when it was time to leave. It wasn’t that Jeremy didn’t want to return to work, or leave his Ma behind. Sara Jane wasn’t even torn up over losing her son and lover again. It just felt like there was so much left to say, to do. There was uncertainty as to when they’d be able to return. “We get time off for Smissmas, I know that’s months away but I’ll be here, I promise,” Jeremy swore, hugging Sara Jane for the eighth time. 

“You better,” she said, squeezing him tightly. “You have 25 years worth of gifts to catch up on, not to mention birthday gifts-”

“Ma, you don’t have to go that far,” he whined. He was touched, sure, but the thought of that much luggage was truly frightening. Oh God, he was going to have to get gifts for everybody, wasn’t he? What do kids even want for Smissmas? 

“Hush, let me spoil my baby,” Sara Jane told him, kissing his cheek. “Oh, Jeremy…” 

Jeremy nodded. “I know, but I’ll call. I’ll write, too. Send pictures if I can.” 

“I’ll make sure he does,” Raphael assured her. Sara Jane stood to kiss his lips, with Jeremy looking away pointedly. “You have my word, ma petite chou-fleur.” 

“Alright, alright- now get going, I don’t want you two missing your flight. That boss of yours sounds like she’ll tear you both a new one if you’re late,” Sara Jane said, shooing them away. “Love you boys!” 

“I love you too, Ma!” Jeremy shouted back, for the very first time. 

The drive back to the airport was quiet. Jeremy stared out the window, watching his hometown- he had a hometown- pass by. “Hey, dad?” he asked, still looking outside. Raphael grunted to acknowledge he was listening. “One of these days, our contracts with Mann Co. are gonna expire. We’re gonna have to find new jobs.” 

“Yes, that’s correct,” Raphael said. He tapped a rhythm against the steering wheel. 

“And-and I was thinking when that time comes… maybe we could come back to Boston. Find some gigs out here,” Jeremy suggested. 

Raphael sighed. “Unfortunately, being a spy means that you don’t have the option of retiring, Jeremy. Not until you’re unable to complete your job. At that point, though, you’ve probably died a dozen times over,” he explained. “Even if I could retire, settling down somewhere so close to people I care about- I would still have enemies.” 

“Right. ‘Course,” Jeremy said. “It’s OK.” 

“That being said,” Raphael continued, “you have the luxury of youth and not being tied down to such a career. If you want to find a job in Boston after we finish with RED, there’s nothing stopping you.” 

“But people will still be after me, since I’m your son. And you wouldn’t be around.”

“Every child leaves their parents someday. And you’re strong, Jeremy. You can protect yourself and your family.” Raphael smiled. “I don’t believe Sara Jane needs much protecting, but I do worry.” 

Jeremy laughed. “I mean, did ya see the muscles on Scott and Michael? Guys can probably bench press a tractor!” 

They both chuckled before settling into quietude. Eventually, though, Jeremy had to break the silence. His voice was barely above a whisper. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, mon lapin.”

“...so your nickname for Ma is fucking ‘little cauliflower?’ What the hell, Dad?” 

[acosmicblizzard]

Older sibling hcs pt.3 (ikemen revolution)

Links to the other parts: pt.1, pt.2.

Warnings: Possible spoilers for all current released wonderland residents routes (currently only Loki's Oliver's and Harr's are released in english as of the time of writing this)

I have only done rays route so characters have a chance of being ooc! Some information regarding the characters may be wrong too so don't take everything said in these hcs as truth! Please don't repost my writings even with credit. reblogs are preferred!

Wonderland Residents

Blanc Lapin

Growing up with blanc means you're the only person in the entire world who truly knows him. All his weaknesses, all the things he loves, all of his insecurities and all of his dreams.

You're most likely ageless/immortal like blanc and also have been cradles record keeper alongside blanc or working somewhere in central quarter as a diplomat.

Growing up with blanc and continuing to stay in his life through out all the years makes it so your bond is practically unbreakable. Throughout everything, you were there for eachother and never once fell apart. You two have seen relationships break and fall as time goes on yet somehow it's like in the grand scheme of time your bond stays still, unmoving as everything moves on.

Carrots carrots and carrots. You two definitely bake carrot cake together and a ton of other carrot desserts and meals.

You two often have tea parties and just sit and talk about whatever is on your minds. Of course having carrot cake as a snack to eat.

Immortality can be a cruel cycle where everyone you love will die while you stay for eternity, however when with you blanc feels a lot less tense and pained. Knowing that one person would be there and share the eternity with him. Together, they can get through the pain of immortality.

Oliver Knight

If you think for a second just because you're his sibling that you're spared from his sass you are dead wrong

Less insults and sass compared to others but this man will still sass you all the time

Being olivers sibling most likely means you live with him and blanc and have a good bond with both blanc and fenrir who often comes by for weapon commissions.

You most likely know some form of mechanics or tailoring and often offer to help oliver out with his projects and things he's making. Which he usually declines. But when you do help out it's always fun despite all the sassing you get from your younger sibling.

For the longest time seeing him in his child form made you laugh. Seeing a full grown adult getting treated like a child at times was hilarious. But it also reminded you of the happy moments you shared between eachother when you were kids.

Falling into cradle together after meeting blanc in the land of reason was definitely unexpected but now you don't regret it. You've met many new friends and have fallen in love with this world, and you have your younger brother by your side.

Loki Genetta

For the longest time it was you and loki against the world after your parents gave you two over too the magic tower. Well that was until you two met harr and he took you two in.

As loki's older sibling he looks up too you a lot and cares for you a ton and he tries to show that in anyway possible. It's common for you both to become very lonely and needy so you're eachothers support and things are way less worse because of it.

Hugs galore. This man adores hugging you or at least having any sort of physical contact with you. Sometimes he just wants to pause time and hold you forever, not wanting to let go of you. Scared that one day you may just disappear.

Often times if you ever have to set foot in central quarter loki is right by your side and wanting to hold your hand all the way. You two often stop to visit the cats that are usually in the alleyways, ray is also usually there and you two end up forming a friendship.

Loneliness is a powerful feeling that can consume someone, but with loki the feeling can't consume you. You know you'll never leave eachother sides and do whatever you can too stay together no matter what the world throws at you two.

Harr Silver

Growing up you most likely taught harr magic and how to use it, and eventually you started working on projects and making magic crystals together when he became older. But you mostly tried to keep him out of your work and things involving the magic tower.

You and harr know how to read eachother perfectly and are extremely intune with eachothers emotions and feelings. A single glance at eachother and it's almost like you know what the other is thinking like the back of your own hands.

Though you're siblings you and harr don't talk as much as people think you would, you mostly communicate through gestures and body language which is beneficial for harr since he isn't the best at communicating and is shy.

Just because you don't speak as much as people would expect that doesn't mean you don't hang out and talk. You two usually work on projects together regarding magic crystals and experiments regarding magic and it's surprisingly good bonding time. Though it's silence most of the time you and harr do usually have talks about whatever was on one of your minds at the time.

Being close to harr also means you're somewhat close with loki, also being a parental figure towards him like harr is.

Depending on if you live in the forbidden forest with harr and loki or not harr will try to convince you to come live with them if you don't, but will never force you too.

Mousse Atlas

Being the eldest Atlas child you most likely were the ace of hearts both before mousse and zero. But now you're diplomat alongside mousse as now zero is the ace of hearts. You and zero have a slight friendship and you get along well with the ace.

You two can be seen doing everything together. Even going on diplomatic trips to different countries together and bringing a ton of stuff back with you too cradle.

Cuddles and naps? Cuddles and naps! It's not uncommon for you two to take naps together. It's actually a very common occurrence that happens at least 5 times a week just due to how tired mousse often is.

Back when both of you were children, you and mousse often ran off from your parents and explored places. Being curious about the world around you and learning all there is to learn about it. Walking through the forest holding mousses hand as you pointed out new things or animals or bugs that you had never seen before.

You two kept a journal that you two would pass back and fourth between eachother where you would write about the new things you explored and saw.

Though years have passed and many things have changed your bond with mousse is a thing that'll never pass.

Dean Tweedle and Dalim Tweedle

Oh to be the older sibling to the twins that think they aren't twins

On one hand you have dean wanting to spend time with you after finishing grading his students tests and on the other you have Dalim inviting you over to his bar offering free drinks due to you being his older sibling.

Both care for you and it's more of a tug of war between the twins on who gets to spend time with you and when

Your relationship with the twins has been distant, when you were kids you had a good bond with both of them but over time as you all moved on with your lives you drifted apart. However you decided you wanted to try and rebuild the bond so when you visited both of them individually both at the school and the bar they were very much shocked.

You spent hours chilling in the bar and drinking with Dalim, catching up on how much both of you missed in one anothers lives and how much had changed. Same could be said with Dean as when he was finished with his duties at the school.

One time both tried to ask you too hang out at the exact same time and ooo boy that was a chaotic day

Despite their mixed feelings for one another they could never try to separate each other from you. Especially with how happy you were now that you bonded with them once again.

Maybe, just maybe with the older sister back dean and dalim could rekindle their long lost bond.

[momoliee]

It’s probably too early for The Meta No One Asked For That I’m Gonna Write Anyway about XQC, alas…here we go

Dr. Xie Qingcheng, 32, male, straight (so far), 180 cm with only one current family member.

Xqc is introduced as a cold, aloof and apathetic retired doctor who has no passions, cares about nothing except for his sister, and unless he’s angry, you can barely get an emotional response out of him.

Through meatbun’s character notes on how he has no favorite food, no favorite color or animal, no personal preferences outside what’s most practical and how he’s very very responsible and rules abiding and honest and sober and serious, and through he yu’s POV that continuously paints him as this heartless cold blooded person, I dare say we were…deceived by this so far shades of gray picture we had of him.

Xqc was born into a finically stable middle class family consisting of two cops for parents and a younger sister that came into the world 8 years after him. When he turned 13, and his sister was only 5 at that time, his parents were fired from their job due to a case they shouldn’t have been investigating going wrong, and they had to move to a rural area. Not long after that, he witnessed both his parents’ deaths and saw their corpses with his own eyes, the site was bloody and there’s no way it didn’t traumatize a pre-teen like him. He then was tasked with taking care of his sister, becoming a doctor despite not wanting to, owing others favors and spending all his money on smth that’s yet to be revealed instead of enjoying it. He got married, not to a woman he loves but to someone whom he thought of as “suitable and appropriate”, got cheated on and went through a divorce before losing full interest in the marriage life. He was finally able to retire (we don’t know why yet) and live a quiet, normal, boring life.

I believe xqc loved his parents, I believe he loved them so much cause in chapter 20, he mentions how he thought he wouldnt be able to live past the grief, he wouldn’t be able to go on or move forward, how the grief completely overtook him. He also mentions how he used to play with knots and handcuffs when he was a child, which shows how close he was to them. So for a child who had a good stable life with two loving parents to suddenly fall from a class to a class, suddenly lose both parents and see their corpses with his own eyes, that must’ve fucked him up big time. I’m talking “when can I fully register all of this” kind of fucked up. But he didn’t have time to fully absorb all of this, didnt have the time to sit down and cry, he had a sister, she was only 5, where will they get the money from? What were they gonna do? How was he going to continue school while caring for her? He didn’t have the time to sit down and grief, to sit down and adjust. For a child who had a normal life and didn’t have to worry much about the money like every other middle class kid, he was suddenly burdened with poverty AND loss, and duty and responsibility. Good bye to the days of playing with handcuffs and knots huh?

You ask me, why does xqc not have a favorite food? I answer you, because many many nights, he didn’t know what to feed his sister, much less himself. Cause I bet that many nights, he would have to give up his portion for Xie Xue, to make sure a kid like her is full. Cause he couldn’t afford to be picky, couldn’t afford to choose; whatever was edible will be eaten, taste and flavor be damned. He had to start working from a young age, balance school, babysitting and working all at once. The last friend he made (I think) was that Chen Man guy whose parents were friends with his parents, back when they were alive and life was good. He didn’t have time to make friends, or go out, or have a favorite color or visit the zoo and decide on a favorite animal. No, he had to study, and study hard to become more financially stable and support Xie Xue, he had to raise his baby sister and protect her, he had to work or else how will he put food on their table? Yet he never lost his soft kind heart, cause when his sister asked for a laptop, he bought her one just so that she wouldn’t feel less than any of the other children.

Xqc had to SURVIVE, he had to make do with what he had and what he didn’t have. He didn’t have time to sit down and cry or process his trauma, didn’t even have time to think of adolescent love or his youthful days or do what kids his age did. And all of that carried forward into his adult life. He pushed his emotions back so hard and had his practical, business like mind take care of everything in order to make it through the days. He started to believe that passionate emotions such as love and hate and lust and desire were all a waste of time, a distraction from his duties, smth that will rock the delicate balance he created with his everyday busy schedule. Emotions will stunt you, emotions will delay you, crying and not going to work today means no food to feed his hungry sister with. That’s when he started thinking, strong emotions are a DISEASE, they will take up your time, cloud your judgement, have you make reckless decisions that you’ll regret later. And he couldn’t afford any of that right? Strong emotions are for the weak, they put you in crutches and disable you from moving forward. Wasnt that what he told his ex wife? If he had submitted himself to his grief back then, where would his sister be? Where would he be? How could they have grown up to be healthy and successful adults?

So this man taught himself practicality and duty and priorities. He stopped thinking about himself, about what he wants and what he feels, and instead started making sure that those around him are happy and content and safe and well taken care of. He no longer had desires or passions, he only had rules and regulations. If a person lost their sense of taste, would they still want chocolates and burgers? Would they still have cravings and foods they’d rather swallow medicine than eat? No. If so, how will they decide on what to eat every day? They’ll simply start following a “perfect nutritional plan” and “balanced diet”. They’d eat what they have to eat, when they have to eat, and in the exact portion they need. To them eating would be another chore they have to do every day to keep their bodies going. Similarly, with xqc, graduating, working, marrying, taking care of his sister and auntie, these all became “tasks” and “chores” that he had to abide by and follow. They became the dietary plan for his life till he dies, the outline he shall follow, the textbook rules he will carry out, no need to think of what he “wants” or “desires”, what will make him “happy” or bring him “joy”. He no longer listened to his emotions when making decisions. Even when marrying his ex wife, he married her cause she was “a suitable match”, not for her looks or personality or anything. Feelings are life’s taste buds, and once you remove them, everything becomes tasteless and mundane, and practicality/logic takes over. He stopped knowing what it felt like to choose based on your preferences, cause he stopped having the luxury of choice ever since that night when he was 13, and he no longer was able to re-teach himself the meaning of free will and choice.

So when he yu, in chapter 20, asked him how he would’ve acted if Xie Xue had died, and he said, “I would’ve continued living as I am today till my last breath,” he wasn’t being “cold” or “heartless” or “indifferent” as he yu likes to say. He was being practical and methodical and thinking with a logical approach, rather than an emotional one, just the way he taught himself to throughout all these years. His almost 2 decades of pure survival mode and severely repressed feelings spoke in the form of autopilot. “I would do what I have to do, what I’ve always done every day of my life so far cause what choice do I have?” Is what he meant to say.

But I believe that he’s a soft hearted, kind and loving person. He never says no his sister, never says no to his auntie, helped that homeless man as best as he could, taught he yu that he was normal and that he wasn’t a monster, believed in treating his patients with words instead of medicine prescriptions, believed that the mentally ill deserve to live normally instead of being locked up. I believe that underneath all the shit he has buried, there’s a lot of passion and love that’s been kept dormant for 19 years.

In conclusion, idk where meatbun is gonna take his character but I genuinely hope he gets to heal, and start having more color and flavor in his life. Start allowing himself to live, not just survive.

[silver-wield]

The Promise Analysis (Cloti)

Sorry about that, Nonny, I relate the promise between Tifa and Cloud to some of the stuff that happens during their resolution and went full tin hatter on it.

Ok, spoiler warning for ppl who haven't played (I tag FF7R spoilers as final fantasy 7 remake spoilers) and it's gonna be a long one so prepare to scroll.

Also, this is one person's interpretation of the scene, so if you disagree that's cool and we'll agree to disagree.

You're also gonna have to excuse the janky quality on some of the screens, I'm grabbing them from Youtube and it's frustrating af trying to get the exact moment I want.

Other analyses if anyone's interested.

Shinra HQ vision scene (Cloti/plot analysis) 

Chapter 3 (Cloti reblog) 

Tifa character analysis 

Aerith Resolution (plot analysis/theory) 

Train graveyard (not really an analysis, but I got some sweet screenshots of Cloti) 

Clotiscrew tunnel analysis 

Cloti reunion analysis 

Now, strap in and enjoy the ride.

Recapping for anyone who's forgotten the basics – cause I assume by this point you're ok with spoilers and me pointing that out is kinda dumb lol

So, chapter 4 and it's mission time with the trio – I love these dorks, especially Wedge, he is my child and if he's dead Imma riot. Jessie is off being sneaky and it's up to Cloud and co to play tag with the security team.

As Charlie Biggs (if you got the ref kudos) explains the plan, Cloud looks up at the night sky — which is a whole lot different to the one we fade up to and I personally wonder what it was about that sky that made him recall the promise to Tifa. Was it just the fact he'd been talking to her and it was his first time he'd paid attention to it? Before that he was under the plate and before that he was in the reactor, so I guess it's safe to assume this is his first chance to relate the two things.

Ok, after the fade in, we're treated to a pretty damn romantic set up. The water tower, the night sky and lil Cloud waiting for Tifa.

In the OG it mentions he waited for so long he started getting really cold, but he stuck it out because he wanted to see her and hoped she'd show. That's an OG lifestream detail not in the first OG promise scene, but let's assume for now it's gonna get a callback in the Remake. That means bby Cloud has been sitting there waiting for Tifa for a while now.

Ok, call her a thirteen year old bitch if you feel good about yourselves here, but she's thirteen and her dad is super overprotective. He stopped Cloud from playing with Tifa after she had an accident at 8 that wasn't Cloud's fault and in fact if he hadn't been there she'd have died on the mountain because nobody would've known where she was. Ok? Ok.

So, he's been waiting, and it's clear he's nervous – he looks so fucking cute I just can't stand it! Nervous fidgeting, balled fist, head down, mouth pulled into a pretty grim line. He thinks she's not coming, but still he's waiting for her.

Sorry, just to further hit home the above points. That is the face of a boy who is desperately hoping the girl he likes is gonna show, but has half given up hope. There's sadness in his eyes and a tensing along his jaw line. This boy is disappointed and my heart breaks for him.

Going back to that focus in on Cloud's eyes before the flashback and we can see here the massive difference mako makes to the colour. Cloud's eyes are a deep blue, while his mako infused eyes are blue/green. I get why he goes on about them a lot because he's probably not used to seeing them like that yet; maybe he never will be. Tifa's comment was about the look in his eyes – which I touched on in a comment I made while replaying. Tifa isn't focused on the colour, she's dismayed he has such a hard look in his eyes and when you compare the look in this boy's eyes, it's clear to see what she's getting at. This Cloud is the real Cloud and he is soft as fuck and trying to look tough.

GODDAMNIT!! There's way too many good moments to grab for this analysis! Look at this precious boy! All but folding under the weight of disappointment! But, what's this in the bg? Our heroine, here at last!

If anyone anyone tries to say Cloud didn't have a great stonking crush on Tifa as a kid then please tell me what this means if it isn't he's gutted he's waited and waited and she didn't show.

We don't know why she's late – maybe Remake will clear that up for us – but I'm guessing she couldn't sneak out or maybe, judging by the amount she's dressed up, she was doing the typical girly thing and couldn't decide what to wear, asking herself if this is a date and second guessing why Cloud called her to the water tower – which is known as a romantic meeting place. Whatever the reason, she's thirteen, sheltered – thanks to her dad – and naturally shy. Maybe she worried herself into a state about whether she should go and had to find her courage to meet Cloud. She likes him just as much as he likes her remember. It's canon, don't argue.

Now, her face is this bit is out of focus, but that's nothing to my weirdly myopic eagle eyes – it's a very specific gift. Tifa's smiling. That we can tell even before she's fully in shot. There's a bunching of the cheek muscles that tells us that. She's pleased he's still there. Obviously, she can't read his body language, but she'd probably be a bit upset to realise she upset him. Because she's not actually a bitch like some people like to claim. Sorry, but she's thirteen. How threatened are yall that you gotta call a thirteen year old girl a bitch and try to erase how important she is in Cloud's childhood just to further your own ends? Seriously, get help.

Sorry for the janky, but this is a transition between focus so it's not gonna be great anyway. Here we can see Cloud's expression when Tifa says heya. Eyes open, wide with surprise. She showed. That's what his face is saying. He's trying hard not to show his emotions too much – I mean he is still Cloud and too cool for all that nonsense – but he's relieved. Maybe his heart even skips a beat, but I'm speculating. Her greeting is casual, reserved. Tifa. She’s being cute even though he’s not looking because she wants him to think she’s cute.

Tifa, ever respectful and respectable sits the right amount of difference away that both encourages Cloud she's interested in being near him, but doesn't over encourage him and make him think of her in a negative way. She's likely cultivated this on purpose – she's the mayor's daughter so she's always got to be proper – because she's got a lot of male friends and having any of them get the wrong idea would be bad. You'll notice in her other flashbacks where the boys feature that she's not sitting too close to any of them and they're running around her, not touching or anything. They're satellites that revolve around her because she is untouchable to them. Because she's the mayor's daughter and has to be a good girl all the time. This is further evidence that goes towards Tifa's overall personality. She's very careful and respectful to people. She doesn't go out of her way to offend anyone unless she has no choice. Though she's a skilled fighter, she's very slow to anger and tries to look on the bright side as much as she can, despite the tragedy in her life. (I'm gushing, I know, but she's such a great multifaceted character and way more than the tropes people shove on her to make her into nothing).

Where was I?

Right. So, in direct contrast to their later conversation during the chapter 14 resolution, here we see Cloud with his back to Tifa and her with her head tilting, inviting him to confide in her. Yes, there really are that many awesome parallels purposely inserted in this game and that's why you need to take more than one look.

From her face we can conclude she's optimistic. She's smiling and doesn't look like someone who's expecting a bomb to drop any second – Cloud if you only turned around you wouldn't have gone through this shit. Sure, you'd have likely died when Sephiroth came to town, but hey, you'd have gone out with your childhood sweetheart lol

What she's probably expecting is for Cloud – who has purposely invited her to the watertower hot dating spot – to ask her out. And since she's there and dressed up, we could conclude she'd accept him.

Cloud is trying to find the cool words he wants to say that'll motivate Tifa to miss him, maybe even push her into saying, “No, don't go,” because even though he's fourteen, Cloud is no good at talking to women. This is just one of his character traits. It's why we wanna strangle him over the Triangle. Bby Cloud is hardly better than adult Cloud, but at least bby Cloud knows he likes Tifa.

Bomb dropped. Kaboom. Poor bby Tifa. Look how disappointed and upset she is. She wasn't expecting this one bit! She looked so hopeful in the seconds before Cloud's hesitant declaration, only it wasn't the kind she hoped for. I wouldn't go so far as to say she's crushed, but she's upset, that's for sure. Her brows have come together and she's turned away from Cloud because she doesn't want him to see how she looks in this moment. She's trying to put a brave face on it, but bby Tifa isn't as good as her grown up self. You can see the mouth trying to form a smile, but the eyes have a different expression in them.This is again seen in chapter 14 when Tifa tries to put a brave face on for Cloud before breaking down. 

Shots fired! Tifa goes for dismissive and succeeds! Never mess with a girl with a crush lol

Cloud was trying to get a reaction out of her, but she got one out of him instead. Brave face wins. Well, what did you expect? She's the mayor's daughter and raised on being proper.

He stutters that he's not like the other boys – so cute – and shows off his lofty dreams. He's trying so hard to impress her. He only has these dreams because of the incident when they were smaller where her father said if Cloud can't take care of Tifa then he has no right being around her. This is what drove Cloud to distance himself from Tifa and her friends. Talk about shoving an inferiority complex and identity disorder on a kid. I get it, the mayor was worried about his daughter, but Cloud didn't deserve the bear the brunt of his anger and blame. Still, the fact that nine year old Cloud took that, held onto it for five years and still decided to pursue Tifa by becoming a SOLDIER has huge meaning for them. He was nine. Ok, for argument's sake let's say he didn't have a crush on her, but they were friends and he was told he wasn't good enough to hang with her. So, thanks to propaganda he gets it in his head that SOLDIERS are the best and if he's one of them he'll be good enough for her father to let him see Tifa again. We're not told at any point – nor shown it – that Tifa is only interested in Cloud if he's this elite who can impress her. Remember, she already likes him. Look at what she's wearing compared to him ffs. This girl – again – dressed for a date with Mr Oblivious. Yes, I'm rolling my eyes. Yes, I want to smack him upside the head. Yes, I know he's 14, I meant adult Cloud.

Back to it. The look on his face here is one of “she thinks I'm like the others? I'll prove I'm not. I'm better than that. I can be next to her if I prove myself.” At this point, he's definitely gone from wanting to be around her in a friendship capacity to borderline romantic. I mean, he did call her out to the watertower. Did I mention that? A few times? Because it's significant. He's frustrated she compared him to her friends – no she didn't friendzone him, she likes him. He thinks she friendzoned him. Kids are frustrating and the adult versions aren't much better.

Shots fired part two! Points to Cloud this time! Smug lil fucker, I see that smirk!

Okay, so Cloud says he's gonna be like Sephiroth and at this point in time Sephiroth isn't batshit crazy, he's someone to be admired. Tifa to be fair, doesn't sound impressed, but she's humouring Cloud. Then, she says, “Isn't it hard to become a SOLDIER?” And Cloud replies with “Yes, so I won't be back for a long time.”

Okay, now. This is definitely to get a reaction. The smirk on his face is saying that he's partly getting her back for her earlier shot and partly trying to goad a reaction from her because he thinks he didn't get one before – this is why eye contact matters.

Tifa, for her part, doesn't look happy. He's got a reaction out of her, but it'd be really super helpful if he was facing her to see it. Because he isn't, she can get away with a breezy reply that makes him think she doesn't care.

I'm sorry, can I just say serves you right and leave it at that? Seriously, Cloud, don't mess with girls when you can barely form coherent sentences most of the time. What did he expect? She'd throw herself on him, clinging, crying and begging him not to go? Probably. Once again, our angsty hero is on the backfoot in their conversation. This is why eye contact matters. He's looking a bit gutted at her reaction. He likely hoped for more and got far less than he wanted. It's no wonder he goes to Midgar and doesn't approach her when he comes back as a grunt. He's carrying this presumed disappointment around with him that stops him from seeing her. (I can't really go more into CC events since I haven't played it and I've only seen a few bits and pieces, but what I got from it was Cloud is an idiot.)

Tifa asking if he'll be in the papers is both a brush off towards his baiting and also she's trying to encourage him. This is his dream. He called her out of the house late at night to tell her – just her – that this is what he's gonna do. Of course she won't stop him. She's not that kind of girl. She's supportive and kind. She doesn't understand that Cloud's doing it for her – I honestly don't think it enters her mind at any point until he reveals it OG during the lifestream sequence. She's pretty much as oblivious as he is and assumes they're just really close friends and her attraction is all one sided; same as he does about her.

Ah ha! Tifa thinks, realising that Cloud's lukewarm effort to be in the papers won't be enough to satisfy her. If Cloud's going to become a SOLDIER, then he'll be a hero – like Sephiroth. What do heroes do? Save people. He said he won't be home for a long time, but there's even less guarantee he'd come back at all, and she wants to see him again, even if it's just once. She can't leave Nibelheim. As the mayor's daughter she's got responsibilities to the people there – even though the town is dying out and nobody new is settling. Eventually, she'll be the only person her age left and maybe never hear from any of her friends again. But, she can't leave. She can't abandon the people. She'll be left, alone and lonely, until everyone’s gone. Her life wasted. But, she could see Cloud again and that makes her optimistic. Maybe she wouldn't mind the time so much if she thought she'd get to see him again. See that at least he's pursuing his dreams and he's happy with the direction his life took. Maybe she'd get one grand romantic gesture in her life if SOLDIER Cloud could save her.

Confused boi is confused. From Cloud's pov, he doesn't understand this odd request. He hasn't thought about Tifa saying everyone leaving means she's alone. He's only seen this from his pov, so he can't see why Tifa would need saving or how he would even know she needs him. He doesn't realise it's her way of trying to get some guarantee they'll meet again.

I mean, we can see he's trying to understand her. He's actually turned to look at her this time and his expression is searching, like he's looking for clues why she said this. He also invites her to explain by making a verbal cue.

And now that Cloud has her full attention – you know, the thing he was trying to get all along – he doesn't know what to do with it. He's flustered and awkward, and she's cajoling and turning on the charm, which she likely has in spades because mayor's daughter. I know I say that like it's a personality trait, but in part it is. She's had to learn decorum and everything that goes with it. She needs manners and good behaviour. She has to be just enough of an extrovert that she can attend functions – because even though I know I said the town is dying, they still have a reactor and that means they still get visits from important people. She can't show her dad or town up. In the Resolution analysis I made I said she hasn't been allowed to show emotion for five years since she arrived in Midgar, but it's very likely she's never been allowed to show much emotion. She's gotta be the doll. So, since she can't show she's sad, she goes for positive, and Cloud's frowning because he's not sure how he'll keep this promise she wants so bad and if she isn't interested in him then why is she asking for one anyway? Remember, they just did a do-si-do with each other's feelings acting like they don't like each other.

But then, oh look! Oh look! In the face of Tifa's unrelenting cheer and optimism, Cloud starts to smile. Eyes soften and the slightest lift at the corner of his mouth. He's starting to like the idea of being her hero. And it's just once and maybe from that one time save things would move forward for them. He's definitely not opposed to the idea – especially since he's the one who brings it up with Tifa later and she's pretty embarrassed at the reminder. The confusion from before could be because he thought she wasn't serious, but looking her dead in the eye – this is why eye contact matters – he sees she's serious. She wants him to be her hero. She wants to see him again and even offers a get out clause by saying “just once.” He doesn't have to do it forever or whenever she wants, just once. So, she can have hope she'll see him again some day.

And now we're back with the big idiot, who squeezes his eyes shut as he remembers Tifa in the bar earlier saying she feels trapped. Guilt likely pinches. Maybe he wonders if this was a hint she wanted his help – I'm wavering on this because she does say later she didn't expect this kind of thing when she asked for his promise – but if we go by choice of words alone it's leading. Then again, bby Tifa uses the word trapped, so it could just be a word that she feels comfortable using to describe her feelings. How we speak is made up of specific words we go to that feel right when we say them. It's just one of those things and why not everyone speaks the same even when they're from the same region or you have friend groups where you speak one way and other groups where you speak another.

From the dev pov I'm assuming it's meant to be a callback to the promise, but I wouldn't put it on Tifa doing it purposely to encourage Cloud to help her. If that makes sense.

And we close off with Cloud clenching his fist and resolving to help Tifa. To keep his promise.

At no point do we have confirmation from Tifa that the reason she asked Cloud to make a promise was to get a favour off him.

Conclusion

This is actually a very tragic scene from Tifa's pov. I've seen some people say this is because she's a young girl acting like a fairy princess, but I can't marry that idea with the gritty themes FF7 portrayed, and Remake does still hit those notes. Tifa is a young girl who had her romantic hopes dashed and she's looking for some kind of consolation from the boy she likes. He's leaving her. They're all leaving her. She'll be alone. She just wants hope that she'll see him again.

Is it manipulative? Yeah, ok, if that's how you see it. She's thirteen. Did I mention that? I'll say it again. She's thirteen, and one of the last people her age in town. Soon, she's gonna be the only one her age. She's lonely and doesn't want to lose everyone in her life. If you say that's manipulative by asking her crush make a promise so she can have hope she'd see him again, then go off I guess.

And let's touch on hope. Tifa is someone who has a lot of enduring hope – this is why I initially linked the ask to the resolution scene because the theme of hope runs through both. Tifa gets knocked down a lot. She's almost died several times, lost people close to her when they left town, lost Cloud when he left and still found a way to go on. She was never a damsel or trying to be one. She's wearing a cute dress because Cloud asked her out. She thought it was a date. Or she wanted it to be. And since when does wearing a dress make someone a weakling? Or does it only apply to Tifa because convenience?

After Cloud leaves, Tifa begins training every day. She learns from a master and develops her skills until she's at the peak. I mean, you've seen her fight. She kicks all the ass.

She wasn't sitting around like a damsel waiting for an opportunity for Cloud to come and save her. She got on with her life. She was happy at times, sad others. It was normal. She missed Cloud, I know that much from CC. She dressed up – again – hoping he'd be part of the group inspecting the reactor. She was disappointed when he wasn't there.

The promise between them wasn't about furthering a childhood romance or making Tifa someone Cloud couldn't get over. Neither of them was aware the other had feelings. It was awkward mutual oblivious crushing that clearly carried on for another two years until Cloud showed up with Zack, but didn't appear before Tifa because he’s that kind of idiot.

And what happened during the trip? Well, a lot of stuff, but the thing I know about is Sephiroth went batshit cray cray and slaughtered everyone in the town and then burnt it to the ground. He nearly killed Tifa. Cloud was there and that's what we see in his headache flashes about “I let you down again”.

He carries a lot of guilt about not being Tifa's hero, which is why he tries so hard to protect her. He made a promise to her that part of him believes he hasn't kept, but if it wasn't for him, she'd be dead. Again. He did save her. And he keeps on saving her. Not because of the debt of a promise but because he wants to be her hero. The real Cloud that's hidden deep within him, the one that made the original promise, the one that almost died saving her and got stuffed in a mako chamber for years until Zack rescued him, that Cloud wants to be Tifa's hero.

That's why after he recalls this moment – and it's one of the ones where he doesn't have a headache at all (just thought I'd mention that because certain people go on about how a specific scene is all Cloud not headachey Cloud whatever) – that he becomes focused on helping Tifa. He opens up both to her and others – check the camaraderie with the trio after the mission and him offering to walk Wedge home. 

This recollection of a promise is the first step for the real Cloud to finding his way back. That's why it anchors his development and that's why his and Tifa's relationship will never be less than something deep and meaningful.

[interestsofabookwormbitch]

Bakugo and Endeavor Are Not the Same.

Look, I know this isn't gonna get a lot of traction because I don't have a lot of bnha followers, but I still feel the need to elaborate on my feelings. Also warning: long post. I also made it on mobile so I can't do the read more thing. You'll just have to scroll really fast if you don't want to see it. Sorry.

I've seen many people on Tumblr still hate Endeavor, and don't want to forgive him, which is fair. I personally love where the story is going with him and his family, and how everyone has a different stance on how they feel. It's cool, and they've even established how forgiveness is not necessary, so that's good. But again, if you don't like it, or you do like it, but won't ever consider thinking anything nice of Endeavor, I 100% understand and support that. It's your life and your opinion. Hell, I'm not even sure if I'll forgive him, I just like the story.

Anyways, the issue I wanted to address were some comments I've seen on people hating Endeavor. Basically they say that if you forgive and like Bakugo now you HAVE to forgive Endeavor. This is what I want to talk about, because no you don't.

First of all, and the most glaring reason of all, if the age difference. Bakugo was an asshole 14 year old bully, whereas Endeavor was a wholeass adult. That right there makes their situations leagues different. You can't even convict kids of murder at that age (usually). (I'm not saying Bakugo would murder anyone. Despite his frequent use of the word he wouldn't. I was just giving an extreme example). That's because it is widely understood that kids at that age are not fully developed. They oftentimes don't understand the gravity of their actions, and are extremely selfish beings. I'm only 18 now, but I'm a completely different person from when I was 14. I may not have been a bully, like Bakugo, but I was kind of a bitch.

Yes Bakugo was a horrible 14 year old. Yes he was a bully. Yes he made Midoriya's life hell. And yes he did tell Midoriya to kill himself. All of these are horrible, detestable things. We can agree on that. But the thing is, Bakugo never for a second actually thought Deku would do it. Never. He barely understood that bullying was wrong. As far as he was concerned that was how life was supposed to work. The strong conquer the weak (makes me wonder how his home life is. Like is Mitsuki abusive or not? Idk, but that's a whole other can of worms we're not getting into).

Bakugo's an aggressive asshole who hasn't fully developed as a person. He's still got plenty of time to grow and change. He has made leaps and bounds in the right direction, and is starting to become a better person. Yes he still has plenty of room to grow, but he's doing much better, and I, for the most part, forgive him. He will be a good hero and person one day, despite his initial rocky start, and I can't wait to see that. Really the only thing in Bakugo's storyline that I still want, and am not certain I'll get, is an apology. Just one Bakugo apology to Midoriya and it'll be perfect (Although that would come at the end of the series almost certainly).

On the flip side of things is Endeavor. Endeavor who was an adult and at least 23 years old since he had his first child (off topic. This makes me believe the twin theory more. Now I may have to make a separate post on that). Well admittedly he is still not fully developed mentally, he is way way closer, and can definitely understand that what he was doing was wrong. On top of that when he had Shoto he was 31, so 35 when he started training him. By that point he is fully developed and still doing that shit. Anyways, Endeavor knew full well what he was doing during this time. He understood the gravity of his actions and he still chose to continue. Unlike Bakugo who, as a child, was almost certainly not thinking his actions through, Endeavor had time to plan and carefully construct this life.

That is where they differ really. For Bakugo everything was a heat of the moment passion and hate fueled rage, mixed with a lot of childhood selfishness on top of his already selfish nature and a definite dose of just lack of awareness of the gravity of shit, which we can attribute to his age.

Endeavor on the other hand took his critical thinking skills he's gained over the years, and instead of looking at himself and thinking maybe being number one wasn't the most important thing, went and created this whole vile plan to beat out All Might in the long run. He forced a woman into marriage (how much did she agree to their marriage? Because where she is now it would be no I believe, but also like, if you really think of the implications of her being unwilling to marry him, that also means he'd have raped her. Likely not in the usual forceful screaming way the media portrays, but still.... When I think of that I get a really gross feeling) and abused each and every one of his children. Never once over the 23 years he's been with them did he stop to think about what he was doing and how that was wrong. Never once did he take the time to look at his actions.

As a child, like Bakugo, that is somewhat excusable. The actions that followed it may not be, but the act of not looking critically at yourself is not inherently wrong in childhood, as I don't think that children really have the skill to do so. And yes, even 14 year olds, because, despite how much they want to claim otherwise, they are in the height of "the world revolves around me and nothing else matters" stage, which makes them blind to their own faults.

When you're an adult, however, the whole situation is completely different. You now definitely have the skills and tools required to take a look at yourself and realize what you're doing is wrong. The reason Endeavor didn't is because who chose not to. He chose to ignore his faults and force his wife and kids to bend under his rule. He didn't stop and think about his actions after the likely countless times he's left his kids broken and crying. He didn't stop to think after Rei poured the boiling water on Shoto's face, even after Shoto called him out. He didn't stop to think after he became estranged from Natsou. And he didn't stop to think after his first born child died! 

No, Endeavor did these horrible things, and never once stopped to look at them. When shit happened he blamed other people and other things. He never once considered he could be at fault. Even Bakugo, at the age of 15 has begun to realize that his issues lie in himself and not others. Another area where they differ greatly, because it took Endeavor getting everything he ever wanted in the worst way possible for him to see that. It took Bakugo being beaten down to learn this. Bakugo was able to, eventually, admit his losses as his own, and realize he needed to change. Endeavor was blinded by his own refusal to see his losses as his own, and thus was unwilling to change.

It also stands to note that Bakugo is still only a child, and could better admit his faults, even if only to himself, than a 45 (now 46) year old man.

Now, I should note that Endeavor has finally figured out he has been a complete and utter piece of trash his whole life, and is genuinely trying to better himself. I ripped a lot on him, but I do appreciate that, but there is the problem of "Too little too late" which Natsu definitely has taken as his stance.

This is a kind of iffy point, but basically what I'm gonna say is Bakugo had one target/victim (that we know of). Obviously that was Deku. The thing is, Bakugo has turned over a new leaf and started working on bettering himself at a time where he can maximize his potential atonement to Deku. By this I mean, Deku has started working through his deep seated issues already, and is growing in confidence, Bakugo and him have made up in such a way that Bakugo can even help him with that. It was not Bakugo's intention when deciding to change, but it is what is happening. At the point where the manga is now Bakugo respects and treats Midoriya like worthy adversary (despite what he would say) and actually is willing to give Midoriya advice. He is starting to help Deku grow into his own and better himself (in his abrasive Bakugo way that is). That is a huge step in the direction of atonement. It doesn't excuse what he did, but it does go some way in making up for it.

Most of Endeavor's victims, however, have grown on their own, and he has no way of contributing to fixing what he broke, which makes it harder to forgive him. It's like if I went over to someone's house and destroyed their stuff, denied doing so, only to come back a few years later and try and fix it. Like no. They don't need my help. (In this example Bakugo would be snide person who begrudgingly admits what he did helps a little after you and your friends have already started the process. Not the best, but at least he's helping now).

Anyways, Touya is either dead or Dabi, but either way Endeavor is not gonna be able to help him (for obvious reasons). Fuyumi is leading a happy and healthy life now, no thanks to Endeavor, and nothing he could do will really make it any better. Nastu is also pretty happy now to, again now thanks to Endeavor, and his only issues lie with seeing his father, not something I see him really thinking as an issue (And they're really not). So no fixing there. Rei is almost completely better now according to the doctors, and Endeavor has never seen her in all that time. It's true he sent her flowers, but those really didn't make a difference in her progress (I believe Shoto visiting might have though. But that's neither here nor there in this post). Really the only one he can try and help to grow and move past his abuse of is Shoto, but idk, it seems unlikely. For one Shoto has already begun the healing process because of Deku, and for two, I don't think the issues Shoto have now are something Endeavor himself can fix.

So there's also that to, as weak as that point may be.

Overall though they really are in entirely different situations. Sure the manga likes to compare them, but they barely use the actual abuse storyline as a point of comparison, just the drive to be number one, and the failure to do so. There's too many differences to really compare those parts of their individual storylines and use one to justify the other. And anyone trying to force people to forgive Endeavor just because they forgave Bakugo should really stop and think about why there situations are different. It's more than just the age thing that everyone talks about, but even if it wasn't, that alone is enough to completely change just how wrong the situations were.

And I'm not saying you can't forgive Endeavor either. Go ahead and do just that, I'm not judging, just don't go trying to force other people to do so. And I'm also not saying you have to forgive Bakugo. He was a prick, and I understand why some people wouldn't. I'm just illuminating why these two situations are so completely different from each other.

(Wow. I just wrote two thousand words on this. Yet I still struggle to write thousand word essays. Fuck man)

Sorry again for the long post

[arianaofimladris]

Reversed roles

I posted this story almost a year ago, but someone reminded me of its existance today and I feel like going back to this idea and maybe writing a bit more...

This is an AU ficlet with Feanaro reborn as a child and placed in Fingolfin’s care. Fluffy. Feel free to drop hints for me.

Reversed roles

 The first time the envoy of the Valar came, Nolofinwe was mortified. Like it usually was with them, there wasn’t really a place for arguing. Namo, Nolofinwe had to admit, seemed kind of desperate. He said he could find no one else for the task and he would not charge any of Fëanaro’s sons with it. All in all, it was a good thing to make a Vala owe you, so Nolofinwe finally agreed.

Which, in result, left him in charge of his brother. His elder brother, currently a pouting child with a charming smile, when he bothered to reward him with one. And, unfortunately, his far less charming personality and memories. Nolofinwe immediately understood why he was chosen. Nerdanel already had her seven sons in various stages of emotional maturity to deal with and it would be unfair to charge her and adolescent Maitimo with the care of Fëanaro.

When Namo’s servant brought his brother, Fëanaro was visibly displeased. He clearly found it humiliating that the Maia was carrying him, but as they were both told, the distance was too great for his short legs to manage. The Maia warned the second son of Finwe that he may face emotional instability and mood changes, then left. As if Nolofinwe had not known his brother.

‘You will not treat me like a child’ was the first thing he heard when they were left alone. He found it hard to follow when he was told so by someone who barely reached his thigh. His brother was no longer so imposing, no matter how hard he tried. At first Nolofinwe found it somewhat amusing.

They walked together across the inner yard to the main building. It was a smaller house Nolofinwe chose from time to time, when he wished to spend some time away from his brother’s court. Right now he was almost sure it was one reason more why he was chosen to be put in charge of Fëanaro. They were in quite a desolate place. Findekano and Findarato were going to drop by in the next few days, but Nolofinwe wouldn’t be really surprised if they were told by someone not to come.

“Where is your forge?” asked Fëanaro, looking around with interest.

“Have you ever known me for having one?” replied Nolofinwe with a question. “Besides, I will not let you go to any forge right now.”

“You will not tell me what to do!”

“What would you do in a forge anyway?” Nolofinwe deliberately knelt to be at the child’s level. “Sit on a stool and swing your legs? You are too small to reach most of the things and I doubt you have enough strength to lift, let’s say, a hammer.”

“I suppose I don’t,” agreed Fëanaro grumpily. “So, I am to stay with you. I hope you have some books at least.”

“I think you’ll find something interesting. I can show you the library, if you wish.” Perhaps it was for the best to let Fëanaro spend some time alone before trying to talk with him. It must have been so confusing to come back to life as a child. He himself had not had such experience, being brought to Anaire as a grown elf.

“That would be nice,” replied the boy politely. Definitely confusing, decided Nolofinwe.

“Then come with me, Pityanaro,” he said and chuckled as his tiny elder brother glared daggers at him.

xxx

Fëanaro seemed satisfied when he was given several lore books to study and a sketchbook. He seemed to be buzzing with various ideas and even though he was forbidden to use any kind of workshop, it didn’t mean he couldn’t make some plans. Nolofinwe was pleased to find his brother willing to explain what he was sketching, even if he was terribly frustrated with the clumsiness of his little fingers. Still, it was refreshing and oddly pleasant to see him working, even if he looked ridiculous sitting by Nolofinwe’s desk, way too big for him.

The second son of Finwe decided to return to his studio and leave Fëanaro to his projects, as he was obviously thrilled to be able to create again, even with his limited possibilities. He left the doors open, so he could hear his brother, should he need anything, but he doubted Fëanaro would require anything anytime soon.

xxx

There was a loud thunk!, a startled cry and then something hit the floor. Judging by the muffled whimper, a very stubborn, childish and Feanorish something. Nolofinwe shook his head and went out to check on the damage.

There was a broken shelf and a big, heavy book laying on the floor. Several smaller books were tossed around and in the middle of this chaos sat Fëanaro, doing his best trying not to look distraught. The boy sniffled once, twice, his eyes welled with tears. He wiped them away angrily and stood up, when a muffled sob escaped his lips.

“What’s wrong, Fëanaro? Are you alright?”

“N-nothing,” sniffled his elder brother and Nolofinwe immediately realised his mistake. Never, ever act around a hurt child as if something serious happened, or else they would flood in tears before you know it. It seemed that he had just triggered the childish part of his brother.

“You know, it is quite alright to cry if it hurts,” remarked Nolofinwe more casually, following his brother as he stumbled on the corridor, books and all the mess forgotten.

“It d-doesn’t!”

“You have splinters in your calf. AND you are dripping blood on the floor.” Nolofinwe easily picked his brother up and placed on his hip. Despite his claims, Fëanaro subconsciously sought comfort and didn’t really oppose when Nolofinwe hugged him more closely and carried him to the bathroom.

“Now I am dripping blood on you,” muttered the boy matter-of-factly.

“So you are.”

Nolofinwe seated him on a chair and went to seek for some clean towel and a piece of bandage. When he turned again, Fëanaro was already fumbling around his leg, trying to remove long splinters.

“Let me.” Nolofinwe knelt beside him, seeing how his brother’s hands were shaking.

“I know how to do that. I have seven sons!”

“You’re the size of your youngest boys right now, the last I saw them at least.”

“Can I go and see them? And play with them?” This time he didn’t manage to fully hide his interest; the child part of his older brother was showing again, whether he liked it or not.

Nolofinwe smirked. Fëanaro spent half of the time performing his usual tasks (or at least attempting, as much as his small body would let him), but then came the moments when his childish part took over and he did things adequate for the age he looked like. Then, of course, he would deny anything had actually happened.

“Not now, certainly. Leave those scissors, they are too big for you. Don’t act like a child and let me do that.”

xxx

“I wish to see Nerdanel,” stated Fëanaro after they finished their late dinner.

Nolofinwe arched his eyebrow, trying hard to ignore the tiny legs swinging under the table and occasionally kicking the chair.

“You’ll see her once you’re a bit bigger,” he replied calmly. “I know you miss her, but she is far too busy with your sons to charge her with you as well.”

That was a really charming pout that appeared on his brother’s face. Fëanaro stared grimly at his plate for a long time, sulking.

“So they screwed again,” he muttered angrily. “The Valar. They should have let me out first, so I we could deal with our children together, like we once had.”

“Have you known the Valar to be always right?” asked Nolofinwe and he was rewarded with a surprised smile. “And... You know, I am not going to strangle or poison you. I am trying to get things... better,” he said finally.

“I know. So should I,” sighed Fëanaro and a tiny hand grasped Nolofinwe’s fingers. “I am glad to be out of there. I just want to return to my family.”

“Soon,” promised Nolofinwe. “And besides, it wouldn’t look well if I sent you back to Mandos, would it?” he said teasingly. “Hey, Fëanaro! I’m just jesting!” he called, alarmed, as the boy ran to the window and stared in amazement.

Fëanaro ignored him, still staring. Nolofinwe joined him and saw the full moon slowly raising on the sky. The child seemed to be utterly mesmerized.

“This night lamp is magnificent,” said Fëanaro in wonder. “It’s absolutely beautiful.”

“It is,” agreed Nolofinwe. He picked his brother up so he could see more clearly. “And it doesn’t obscure the sight of the stars.”

Fëanaro was enchanted by the silver light of the moon. Nolofinwe remembered that the Halls of Mandos were a shadowy place with nothing real around the bodiless fëas. His brother was taking being alive again surprisingly well, but no wonder he was so caught up with the sight of something he had never seen directly before.

The evening was warm and pleasant, so Nolofinwe decided to take his brother out. He still kept him in his arms, but Fëanaro didn’t really mind that, too busy watching the moon and all the stars he didn’t know, including his Silmaril. Seeing that, Nolofinwe sang a praise for Elbereth. He walked through the garden, enjoying the silence and the company of his not-so-awful elder brother. Before he knew, Fëanaro’s childish part took over him and the boy fell asleep in his arms.

As he did so, Nolofinwe nestled him more comfortably and carried him back to the house. It was only after he placed Fëanaro in a bed when he was hit by the sudden realisation. As interesting as this experience was, no one told him how long it was going to look like that before his brother would be an adult again.

[cassiavioletblue]

With you, always

♡ Pairing: Yoongi x Jungkook  ♡ Genre: Fluff/ Romance, just a tiny hint of angst ♡ Words: 3k ♡ Disclaimer: nothing, even if it’s one of my solo stories it’s sweet, I promise ;)

♡ Crossposted on Ao3 here

Yoongi and Jungkook were close. The closest you could be. It had always been like that because they had grown up together. Even though Jungkook couldn’t remember the first day they had met because he had been too young Yoongi remembered; he could see it before his eyes as if it had been yesterday; that small boy running on the playground, chasing a bird or a bug or his own thoughts and then suddenly falling. Yoongi had expected the typical screaming and crying that normally followed right after at that age and had been utterly surprised when he had found the little kid biting his lip in concentration instead, his eyes teary but head held stubbornly high as if he refused to let falling get him down. Then he had looked around to see if anyone had noticed his fall and their eyes had locked. Jungkook froze – and then broke into laughter. Yoongi was gone for him since that very day.

They had become best friends in lighting speed. He had been watching over Jungkook ever since, watching him grow and change from the headstrong little child into an even more defiant teenager. They rarely fought but when they did it got heated and Yoongi found himself wondering more than once where the hell Jungkook got his energy from. Though somehow they always ended up together again on the same day and if it had been really bad then Kook asked him if he could stay the night and sneaked into bed with him. Moving in together honestly had been a logical decision as they spent most of the time together anyway.

And Yoongi was glad that he could be there when Kook was coming home after a night out with his school friends, drunk or high like a kite when he had tried something for the first (and last) time. He held his head over the toilet in the bathroom and was there with a cool, wet cloth to clean him up when he collapsed. He never had to explicitly tell Kook that he would be there for him no matter what because it was just a fundamental rule of their friendship that none of them questioned.

Until Yoongi noticed that his heart behaved strangely whenever he was close to Kook and that jealousy, something he’s never had a problem with before, slowly sneaked its way into his mind whenever Kook was out too often with the same person or slept over at someone’s place where Yoongi wasn’t sure if they were friends or… more.  He never voiced his thoughts though. He wouldn’t burden Jungkook with something vile like that. Despite being all grown up now the younger was still so open and pure-minded. He could be really determined, was hard working and a force to be reckoned with when he was driven by something but underneath all his strength and grown-up-behavior he was still so child-like sometimes that Yoongi’s heart ached with it. Like when he got frustrated after losing a game and started pouting without even realizing it or when he was laughing so much that his nose scrunched up and his eyes got that sparkle –  he was too good for this world, too pure. And Yoongi feared the day he would be hurting in a way that he couldn‘t soothe and a band aid couldn’t heal. He was dreading the moment that Jungkook would get a taste of what it felt like to love and get his heart broken by it. And he refused to ever burden the younger with his own feelings for him. So he carefully locked them away, promising himself that he would never ever act on them no matter what.

It got harder though the older Jungkook got and when it became obvious that he had a thing for boys as well, just like Yoongi had – or one single boy to be precise. His feelings hadn’t changed but he felt more guilty for it now as Jungkook had matured enough to be actually interested in relationships.

It felt wrong to feel so attracted to him, to want him with every fiber of his being. He wanted all of him, his mind, his gentle soul – but every time he felt his mind slipping into adult territory he stopped it right there. They had grown up with each other, they where as close as family which made Jungkook practically his younger sibling and Yoongi felt sick to his stomach every time he tried to remind himself of that while he ached to touch him and hold him and get a taste of his sweet, sweet lips.. Jungkook was off limits. He of all people was the last one who should get close to Kookie in that way. He was fucked up and scarred and messed up and he would undoubtedly ruin Jungkook’s soft heart if he let the other see what his affection could mean. It had come to the point that he was very strict about how much affection he gave Jungkook and how, to make sure that there was absolutely no way he treated him inappropriately – not realizing that by restricting himself so much and turning away from the other he made the younger long for his praise and affection even more. A single word from Yoongi could make him smile like the sun was shining out of his eyes – or let his hopes fall apart with a dismissive head shake and a frown.

They kinda argue a lot and when Jungkook stayed out more and more and whenever he kept away from him for longer than usual Yoongi’s heart ached. But he endured it, was almost glad that it would be like this now because it meant Jungkook wouldn’t rely on him so much anymore and maybe if he saw that Kook had found someone that truly loved him, then maybe his feelings would go away. Deep down he knew that he was lying to himself but he still held onto this thought as tightly as he could.

He never tried to lecture Jungkook or keep him from making his own decisions because he thought the more independent he got the better – until he got a text from a friend saying that the younger was at this party he was a little too inexperienced for and that he was a little too drunk and that Yoongi should come get him because it was looking as if Jungkook was waiting for a free room upstairs and this wasn’t how someone should have sex for the first time.

Yoongi was out of the door in a second, keys in hand, not caring that his clothes were worn out and he himself a mess. He might have ignored a speed limit or two and when he pulled up at the driveway he was out of breath as if he had run all the way when in reality he had just sat in the car, unmoving, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white while hoping that he wasn’t too late and that Jungkook wasn’t lying in some random bedroom together with a random stranger; with his mind dulled and his clothes off.

He rushes in, with Namjoon already waiting for him and telling him that Jungkook had been successful in getting a room just a few minutes ago, ignoring Namjoon’s carefully voiced words. Yoongi doesn’t even wait for him to finish his sentence before he’s up the stairs. He disturbs two other couples and doesn’t give a damn about it before he finally finds Kook. Time comes to a halt for a moment and his heart with it. Jungkook is lying on the bed with a man above him who is half naked and kissing the breath from his lips. They look beautiful together – and Yoongi wants to scream because it still feels so utterly wrong. Jungkook turns when the man stops kissing him at the intrusion and Yoongi can see him flinch hard when their eyes met.

“Y..yoongi? What are you doing here?”

‘I came here to stop you from having sex because I love you and I can’t stand the thought of you fooling around with someone you don’t love while you’re drunk and don’t know what you’re doing’ isn’t exactly what Yoongi can tell him so he just says that he’s here to come pick him up because he’s drunk and he shouldn’t be here in the first place because parties like this aren’t for boys like him and that apparently was the wrong thing to say because Jungkook’s eyes come ablaze and he pushes the man off of him (which Yoongi’s heart likes a lot) and then cruelly laughs at him (which he doesn’t like) The man tries to calm Jungkook down and his gestures are soft and his touches seem as if he knows Kook more closely and Yoongi isn’t sure if that makes it better or worse now.

„I‘m Twenty one, Yoongi. Twenty one! You can‘t tell me what to do! You can‘t..can‘t expect me to not look for someone else when you so obviously don‘t want me!“

They all stare at each other in a mixture of shock and too many overwhelming emotions, in Yoongi’s case he feels like he had just taken a blow to the gut. Jungkook’s voice is angry, so very angry but also full of hidden tears and it broke audibly in midst of his little speech. His eyes however are still ablaze and Yoongi feels like watching a storm, too wild and messed up and beautiful. He knew that he would lose him eventually even if he tried to repress that knowledge. If he turned around and left him now then the door between them would close, figuratively and literally and Jungkook would soothe his broken heart in the arms of someone else, someone he probably didn‘t love but would give his body to, just to get rid of his pain and his innocence. The fear eats at him and paralyzes his tongue while he looks at the younger who is still shaking with anger and something more. He knows so little about the darkness inside of Yoongi and it isn‘t fair! It isn‘t fair to decide now for him but he doesn‘t want him to do something that he might forever regret. So he swallows hard, choking down his pride and his fear and everything else tat keep hindering him in the process  and reaches out for him.

„Jungkook..Kookie..please..“

His fingers are twitching in mid air because he feels horribly exposed and.. and everything inside of him tells him that this is wrong but there is no turning back now if he wants Jungkook to understand.

„It‘s not that I don‘t want you, it‘s.. Kookie, you don‘t even know how much I love you. I just don‘t wanna hurt you. I can‘t.. I couldn‘t… You mean so much more to me than my desires, you..Please, let me talk to you. Let us talk this out. Don‘t do this out of spite or hurt while you’re intoxicated. Please.“

He tries to block out the other person who is still standing besides Jungkook, hearing every word he says while he is spilling his heart, making himself way, way too vulnerable for his liking. Jungkook remains silent, then he turns and puts his arms around the other guy. It looks as if he has made his decision and the stab in Yoongi‘s heart was to be expected but he is still overwhelmed with how much it hurts and how easily it steals his breath away.  Yoongi is shaking and he thinks how he can leave Jungkook alone now when he knows what’s about to happen, when he knows that Jungkook’s first time will be like this but he doesn’t have a choice really and so he is about to retreat, thinking that this is it and that Jungkook will hate him now - when he realizes that Jungkook wasn‘t just hugging the other but actually talking to him, quietly whispering words into his ear that Yoongi wasn‘t supposed to hear. The other nods curtly, lips pressed into a thin line while he listens to what Jungkook is telling him. With a tight hug and a last look that sends daggers Yoongi’s way the other walks past Yoongi to grab his shirt and leaves the two of them alone. Yoongi stares at Jungkook who is smiling a little, something bittersweet and insecure, but soft. The storm from before has passed, leaving him looking as young and sweet as before. „Okay. Then let‘s talk.“

However Jungkook has had too much alcohol too think clearly and it’s still in his system so they both decided that it would be better to sleep it off and do the talking tomorrow. Just like it would be better to to just let the turmoil inside of Yoongi simmer down too. Still it felt like the sun was smiling down on him when he was allowed to take Jungkook‘s hand and guide the other one out of here. The younger didn‘t seem interested in the party at all any more, following him like a lamb through the crowd, attention solely on him and with that little smile on his lips that made him look too kissable for Yoongi‘s liking. He knew he should just leave it at that but he couldn’t, a thorn still securely hooked in his chest that he couldn’t just ignore so he asked as casually as he could (while horribly failing at it)

„Who was that guy? Will he give you a hard time because I interrupted you?“

Yoongi couldn‘t help but squeeze Jungkook’s hand tighter as a reminder that he was here with him now while they walked out the door and looked for his car.

„Nah, don‘t worry. He‘s a friend. He wasn‘t some random guy from the party, we know each other  from dance practice and he agreed on.. on doing me that favor. He won‘t be mad that I made up my mind. He wasn‘t pushing me or anything. He actually...“ Jungkook bit his lip, looking a little lost when he broke off but he seemed to pull himself out of his thoughts pretty quickly and turned towards Yoongi, smile back in place. „Doesn‘t matter now. Are you gonna take me home or not?“

They were both tired, the kind of tired that didn‘t came from not-sleeping but was accompanied by exhaustion from too many emotions rushing through your body all at once. That threatening emptiness he had felt when he had been only a hairs breadth away from losing everything right before his eyes – Yoongi could still feel it lingering in his bones. His eyes flickered back to Jungkook as a reminder that he was really home now while the younger was busy kicking off his shoes and visibly struggling, maybe from the alcohol, maybe from exhaustion. He was with him. He was safe.

„I‘m.. I think I‘m gonna sleep on the couch tonight“, he said, trying to keep his voice as stable and nonchalant as possible. But Jungkook wasn‘t having it. „Don‘t do that.“ Even with his back towards him the other could still hear the frown in his voice. „Do what?“ he asked, practically squirming under Jungkook‘s blunt words. „Don‘t withdraw yourself from me again the second we are alone. I won‘t ask you to be all touchy-feely with me right away. Just please don‘t leave me alone now. You could.. I don‘t know, maybe..hug me?“ His voice had gotten more and more quiet towards the end until he sounded so small and insecure that it hurt Yoongi‘s heart. As if the younger still thought this wasn‘t more than a temporary situation for them, with Yoongi only opening up to him for a moment while knowing he would close himself off again before the night was over. He finished getting out of his jacket and put it onto the couch before turning wordlessly and stepping closer until he was right in front of Jungkook. His heart beat thundered in his chest and although Kookie had been the one who initiated it his widened eyes and quickened breath told Yoongi that even he wasn‘t sure how to react. Ignoring his own fears wasn‘t easy but Jungkook had shown so much trust in him tonight, opening up and going with him so easily that giving into his wish was the least he could do. Besides it wasn‘t as if he hadn‘t wanted to do this...for quite a while. So he placed his hand at the small of the younger‘s back and in between his shoulder blades while pulling him in, holding him securely against his own body. The first few second felt strange and awkward but then Jungkook melted into his embrace and somehow their arms found their way around each so naturally as if their bodies were made to fit. Like a puzzle. Yoongi would have scoffed at that cliche thought if he hadn‘t been so busy enjoying the other’s warmth. It felt so good to have him close like this, as if suddenly his chest had expanded and he could breathe more easily. Jungkook had leaned his head against his shoulder and closed his eyes, the embodiment of trust.. „Thank you.“, he whispered and he sounded so thankful, so full of affection that Yoongi couldn‘t help but turn his head and place a little kiss onto his head. Just barely there. And still Jungkook had noticed.

-`♥´-

P.S. 

They work it out even though it takes more than one “talking session” to do so. The first time they kiss Yoongi thinks he’s found heaven. And Jimin – the guy who has been with Jungkook at that party – is the first to comment on how Jungkook has never looked so happy. He also threatens that if Yoongi is ever going to be an ‘asshole that closes himself off again’ he’s going to snatch Kook away from right under his nose (while withholding that there was never more than friendship between them)

[scarlettlawyer]

Part 6 of my commentary/reaction of the fanfiction series Phantoms & Mirages by @renegadewangs And uh – there’s actually a small (but relevant) commentary on Turnabout to the Past in this post too… :P

Also looks like I’d better start organising the links to the previous posts more properly, so:

(Chasing Phantoms): Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 

(Haunted Specters): Part 4 | Part 5 |

So picking up with the same chapter, swiftly and subtly over the course of the fic, the phantom has been dramatically repositioned by the narrative. And now, all of a sudden, as the connections get made… Just after being shown Actual Child Phantom and having that sympathetic image fresh in our minds, the narrative suddenly goes “Haha! So anyway! Bobby and Simon parallel the phantom’s parents! :D” and throughout this chapter, because of the severity of the phantom’s injury and their weakened state, Bobby and Simon have been forced to make sure that he, well, doesn’t die. So now all of the sudden the phantom is kinda like… their child that they need to look after…

It’s almost as if… the narrative is equating the phantom with being a child… their child… And that alone is… really, really amusing. It was very funny to me. It was just about hilarious. It was the best thing. I couldn’t get enough of it. You actually managed to construct these parallels wherein the narrative positions the reader to see a direct parallel between, on some level, this fully grown man guilty of countless murders and a child. To see him as a kind of child that needs vital assistance from Bobby and Simon, rendered momentarily weak and helpless by circumstance.

Time and time again, the phantom has been built up by the series as extremely intimidating, scary, DANGEROUS, what have you, but in this moment, in one fell swoop, at least in terms of how I saw it, the narrative appears to dish out a kind of retribution. The phantom’s character is, to an extent, made fun of in the best possible way, amidst his transformation into protagonist and beginning to grab at the sympathies and concerns of the reader, Bobby and even Simon. Because however much our perspectives might have shifted somewhat at this point, no one is under any true illusion here: we all know that the phantom is a colossal jerk who has done terrible, terrible things. For the narrative to point at him, an adult, a criminal and a murderer, and say to the reader, “oh, just look at this poor little child” is on some level to outright mock him, and to strip away much of the character’s ability to intimidate in any real sense at this point. It is also a repositioning that mainly only the reader is privy to; he is not being made fun of directly in the story or being subjected to any true retribution directly over this outside of the karmic frustrations and indignities of being temporarily unable to properly fight back against Bobby and Simon’s assistance. But Bobby and Simon are not provided with the insight into the direct parental parallels. No, the “lol the phantom is a child” perspective namely resides with the reader, now, and its as if we are given every permission through it to dunk on him, as he should be dunked on, ‘cause he sucks and ruined lives lol.

The flashback to the phantom when he was a small child was nothing but angsty, make no mistake, but that does not make any narrative plays on his current adult self being a child any less amusing, and vice versa – it doesn’t in any way take away from the horror and awfulness of the child abuse flashback.

The phantom’s trauma is not funny, nor is his suffering – rather, the narrative positioning him as Bobby and Simon’s child is.

I also want to expand a little on how Simon assaulting the phantom was to an extent mirroring him as a small child being assaulted by his abusive father, although I touched on it briefly in my previous post.

In one situation, the phantom is an innocent, helpless, actual child, just doing his own thing… In the other, he is, well, the opposite of “innocent”, as well as actively baiting and anticipating the attack. And Simon striking out, naturally, is seen by the reader as being so much more justified. It is the same person – the phantom – being attacked in both situations, but different in the ways I’ve iterated. And the attacker could not be more different either, with such a very, very different connection and history with the phantom. And the reader sees the two situations as they occur in such different lights.

And yet still, there manages to be a handful of similarities between the two occurrences, such as the phantom not fighting back in either.

It’s so interesting to think about.

Not to mention that this series has been saying over and over again, he’s a monster, look at this monster, what a MONSTER… and then flips the script, everything over and puts that word into this new light.

Continuing on…

“Lex Luster… He was killed.”

Me reading this for the first time: “LOL nice try author, but I know he isn’t really dead. This is just one of your bait-and-switches, your red herrings isn’t it? Let’s see… wasn’t the phantom only just saying that this Lex Luster would take advantage of the break-in to garner sympathy and spread lies? Well, he probably had his sights set on an even greater plan. He must have faked his own death in some kind of clever elaborate ploy that will only serve to benefit him!”

The narrative as it continued to chug along, with no hints of a sudden He’s Alive reveal emerging: Uh, no he’s… he’s really dead, dude.

Me: “…What? But that makes literally no sense. I… I know that Lex Luster is supposed to be an important character. Isn’t he supposed to like, be a protagonist in future or something? I guess not, unless it’s through flashbacks, or maybe this really IS all we get of the character… So like, wait, that’s all we get of the “Lex Luster” character? Were… Were we supposed to care about that guy?! Because I’m sorry but… I really don’t see it. That guy who just got killed off, Lex Luster? I didn’t care about him. I’m sorry. (Maybe even though he wasn’t featured much, maybe he’s a bit of an Ensemble Darkhorse and/or the author had his character fleshed out behind the scenes in ways they didn’t get to showcase?? Hmm… Well either way… At least based on what I know about the guy… Don’t see why he was important tbqh).”

…WELL.

Also, I love the three of them just sitting down and playing a little blame-shifting game over a murder. Gosh I love this trio.

Haunted Specters, Chapter fourteen

“… I don’t… I…” The Phantom pressed his palm against the side of his head, leaning forward in his seat. “How is this possible? Who would dare impersonate me? Who would dare use that face?”

1. The phantom being at a loss for words – I love it

2. HE SOUNDS SO FULL OF HIMSELF… THIS MAN WHO CLAIMS TO HAVE NO SENSE OF SELF… So imperious… “WHO would DARE impersonate me?!” Get a load of this guy! :D

3. I honestly didn’t think you could do another kind of “Bobby impersonates the phantom” in terms of ironic phantom impersonation reversals on the same kind of level. I was wrong. “Someone impersonates the phantom using the phantom’s real face” is a scenario that had never, ever crossed my mind before. BUT IT’S SO GOOD. IT’S SO GOOD. Delicious. The phantom gets a nice big taste of his own medicine.

4. Also, this curveball felt Ghost Trick levels of mindscrewy when first revealed. XD

[…] the ones who’d been in the courtroom the moment the Phantom was attacked by a sniper […]

Oh you mean Bobby’s thera- okay I’ll shut up now. He just gets so many early references okay.

“I’ve lost track. However, there are two names that I’m sure you hope to hear. Calisto Yew and Shih-na.”

YES. YES. YES. CHEERING SOUND EFFECT Y’ALL, SHE MADE IT! SHE MADE IT TO THE NARRATIVE

It had almost felt like the narrative was really dancing around her… It felt like a “dropping-references-but-no-role-in-the-story” type deal but like, really pushing it, with maybe one too many references... And I’ve read more than one phantom fic where the phantom had links to her… But I just told myself “well, not everyone’s gonna go that route. Duh. And it makes sense in a realistic way. I mean, it’s highly unlikely that Calisto/Shih-Na and the phantom would know each other or have ever interacted with each other. So I certainly respect the author’s decision to not include her at all in the story and have it so the two don’t have any ties, after all it can be seen as a little cliché and the author may want to avoid that, as a decision it’s bold and respectab- WAIT NEVER MIND SHE’S HERE SHE’S ARRIVED SHE’S AWESOME THANK YOU”

And then I’m like… WAIT… SHE’S KNOWN AS MIRAGE IN THIS SERIES?!

SHE WAS THERE… THE WHOLE TIME… RIGHT IN THE TITLE.

Me, a FOOL, reading the series Phantoms and Mirages: It kind of sucks that she isn’t in this because she’s such a great and fun character, but I certainly respect the author’s decision

GOOOSH…

I swear I’m confident I would have been more inclined to check out this series prior to this year if I had actually known this little fact.

AND ALSO????

Okay, okay… and like… Teenage phantom flashback??? Was NOT expecting it. It was an even greater shift. The interaction with Mirage… the banter, the neutrality of it… & the fact that this fic actually gives him someone who had affection for him like this way back in his past, despite his emotionlessness? It’s ah, humanising? Fleshing him out? I was finding it hard to believe that the story was really treating the phantom’s character in this way… Because it felt way too good to be true. Because I probably just had my phantom bias goggles on. Because of the way the last fic had treated the phantom’s character, I also found it hard to believe. But more and more, I could not deny it… I was really starting to nod along and go, hey. It’s not just me. The author is pulling these strings on purpose, constructing the character and the narrative in this way, in this light…

“Agent Fulbright. Why does it strike me as if you’ve got a dead animal on your face?”

Aww man, this is harsher in hindsight given the later reveal that Bobby’s so self-conscious of it… But this exchange following this line/the line itself was super funny

“Of course. It’s a method that was perfected over fifteen years ago. I believe the Hotti Clinic is one of many locations around the world that specializes in facial reconstruction.”

NICE ONE.

Me: that sounds a little farfe- Oh wait nvm that has a very solid basis in actual ace attorney canon.

Haunted Specters, Chapter 15

Perhaps, in a way, the spy even meant to protect a gentle person like Sam from a gunshot wound.

Hmm, food for thought! Oh, protect from a gunshot wound like Simon's inclined to protect Sam from risk of electric shock later?

“A need to craft?” “It keeps the headaches at bay. Aside from that, this has always been my preferred pastime. If I were to have something of a hobby, this would be it.” A hobby… How peculiar. The Phantom had shown a tendency to adopt the hobbies of his personas, from fixing clocks to pursuing justice, yet here he was with a pastime of his own. A rather disturbing pastime, yet a pastime nonetheless.

And you gave?? The phantom a kind of hobby??? The stuff only starts pilin’ on after this, let me tell you.

And this whole scene too is just… Simon talking to the phantom neutrally. It’s…!

And it’s so cool that we basically get to see child phantom pull off the equivalent of his Dual Destinies jump in this chapter.

Haunted Specters, Chapter 16

“What a ridiculous question. It’s because I am male.” “Identifying yourself as male implies identity, Phantom.”

I HADN’T BEEN EXPECTING THE NARRATIVE TO ADDRESS THIS I HADN’T BEEN EXPECTING THE NARRATIVE TO ADDRESS THIS. This was SO great and refreshing to see, especially since it had been a tiny little thing bothering me somewhat from the very start. I’ve already brought it up more than once in these commentaries. You might have noticed, but although I use he/him for your version of the phantom, I tend to use they/them when talking about the phantom in general.

It wasn’t always like that with me, though! When I first finished Dual Destinies I was constantly using he/him. I mean, it’s what the phantom is referred to with consistently in-game, after all. And I never reconsidered it at all until I saw it brought up/discussed among other ace attorney fans as an issue. But even then, my perspective was pretty much the same as Pengychan’s – there’s, if I recall correctly, an author’s note in Turnabout to the Past addressing the pronouns issue, where it’s stated something like “well, the phantom lacks a sense of self to the extent that they don’t have the self-reflection required to challenge the notion + they don’t care/aren’t bothered by it. They just stick with he/him because it’s the default that gets applied and don’t have enough sense of self to even question it.” And I couldn’t have agreed more. And I still agree? It’s a completely reasonable and justified perspective/interpretation.

But over the years, I’ve just slipped more and more into the they/them habit to the extent that it started feeling more “correct” to me. I’ve read really really great fic where the phantom is afab and they/them is consistently used by the narrative the entire way through. All of a sudden, he/him phantom started feeling kind of jarring to read, even when it had felt like the most natural version to me in the past. It was almost like I started becoming more fond of they/them phantom hahaha. But both sets of pronouns have equal claim. (And I tend to use they/them for general, all-encompassing phantom because it includes everyone’s interpretations and still doesn’t exclude he/him interpretations. So it captures ‘em all!).

“Effort? In what way?” “Women need to watch their posture. Their nails. Their hair. Their appearance is always judged.[…]”

Okay honestly, looking back, I think this was another statement I looked way too much into at the time and misconstrued. The brevity, and therefore lack of specification, leaves something to be desired to me here…

For example: Nails…? That feels like it reaches straight into the realm of stereotypical for me. Obviously – I mean, obviously he’s making a comically HUGE generalisation here, that’s just a given. Maybe the “nails” comment is more about… “some women” idek but when I first read this, it kinda felt like he was sitting there going “being a woman is so difficult, always needing to maintain perfect, painted nails blah blah blah…” Like dude. It’s nails. Nobody cares. If a woman isn’t preoccupied/obsessed with manicures or whatever, there tends to be 0 difference between men and women when it comes to nails and how they are maintained. And hair, too, it’s like… myself and plenty of women I’m sure hardly give our hair much thought at ALL in day to day life, even if on average the focus may be a little bit more than it is for men.

I realise that I probably read this the wrong way though, and what he’s actually saying may be more akin to “regardless of how a woman personally feels about her appearance, and how little she personally cares about maintaining her appearance, that appearance is still going to be more heavily judged”??? But that still seems kinda… Like that doesn’t really impact much how difficult it is to portray a woman. That’s only a comment on how other people would treat them… Like there’s a greater risk involved if the disguise itself is more closely examined cause he doesn’t want to be discovered, but…

Another thing though is he’s probably making general comments that aren’t supposed to be particularly accurate and/or specific. I just look into things and make assumptions way too much. :P

Like the one thing I’ll give him is the whole posture aspect… to an extent. Societal influences/expectations DO go both ways and men have their own expectations to comply with, even in the realm of posture. But I guess the takeaway here is that for the most part, the scrutiny for men is less + the posture of “men” is often stuff that would come more naturally to anyone, men or women. It’s women who, when it comes to femininity, tend to be required to actually modify in ways that don’t come as naturally. And also a lot of “men’s posture” is seen as default and/or they have more claim to default posture.

Even if he has some kind of a point… What he’s saying sounded, to me, ridiculously exaggerated. At the time on the first readthrough I interpreted him as kind of saying “as a woman, like ALL women, you have to be constantly aware of yourself, carefully adhering to femininity in everything you do in unnatural, practised ways.” And like… HAHAHA… nah? Women tend to just live their lives and most of the time they are acting in ways that come naturally. But there are times when this kind of pressure comes into play but not to that extent. Not constantly. It obviously depends on a given woman’s circumstances though… Because I’m sure for some, life circumstances do require putting on a constant show of hyper-femininity. Which would tend to be… exhausting.

And yes, women’s appearance and behaviour is subject to scrutiny by society, and such scrutiny, and being aware you are under such scrutiny, can modify one’s behaviour to the extent that it is less natural. But at THE SAME TIME this also struck me as being kinda bogus. “Women need to watch their posture” uh… I guess? To an extent, in that society reckons there are certain “ladylike” ways to sit and conduct oneself, but those instances are still quite specific and are not necessarily a CONSTANT, FELT presence… pretty sure most women going about their day are just living their life. Well, you could also say that being “trained” by society into conducting yourself in a certain way and having a certain posture and what have you so that it becomes what comes naturally and is no longer noticeable is also a factor.

There are valid points in most of what he’s saying, exaggerated or no. For a variety of reasons, portraying a woman comes with difficulties.

But also…

In a way, that justification struck Simon as a rather weak excuse to cover any traces of true identity.

The whole thing is that there is something buried away. And this is one form of that something bleeding through. The text lampshades the flimsy nature of the excuses, hints at this.

So at the end of the day… There is actual narrative reason in this series for the phantom being he/him from the beginning. It also arguably allows for a smoother transition between “the phantom” and Lex later on. So yeah… I’m fully on board.

Also like… Just like how women are people with a huge variety and spectrum of personalities… Men are equally varied and, depending on the personality, can potentially be very difficult & demanding to portray (like you know… BOBBY – original Bobby). Hands down there are men way more difficult to portray than an “average” woman, no question. PLUS… the whole self-awareness demands don’t apply when the phantom kinda needs to always be self-aware of his every action when in a persona regardless. Especially the more difficult and demanding ones. SO THE TAKEAWAY HERE at least for me definitely is… The phantom is a big dummy in denial about having some kind of self and the fact that this self has a sense of “maleness” attached to it.

Or perhaps the Phantom truly was looking at the matter so objectively that he couldn’t grasp the difference between biological and psychological. The difference between sex and gender.

Simon, pulling up a helpful and informative tumblr post: “You see, there’s actually a difference between the two!”

“…Simon Blackquill. You’ve no need to lecture me on such things, as I have done far more research than you on matters such as these. I know what applies and does not apply to me, such as the simple fact that I am aroace.”

“Don’t. Odd as it is, it’s grown on me.” A moment’s pause, then Bobby snorted. “It’s grown on me too. Literally.”

xDDD

Haunted Specters, Chapter 18

The only thing he could take comfort in was the fact that Sam Specter looked far more exhausted than he felt. It had to do with the recent migraine attack, no doubt.

Using “Sam Specter” but meaning the phantom… Sam Specter is supposed to be an act. Sam Specter has been said to always look tired. Yet Simon is looking at him here, seeing the phantom underneath, but still using “Sam Specter”…!

Not that either of them could approach him to ask whether he was holding up alright

APPROACH WHO? ASK WHO? Simon is referring to “Sam” but he knows that Sam is an act, a facade and there is no point… This is just a hypothetical sentence though; it doesn’t say that he wants to check on him… And even if he does it could be rationalised away with “well he needs to remain intact for the plan to go off without a hitch” but…!

Bobby seemed genuinely concerned for Sam. Seemed to be genuinely interested in the words of someone who wasn’t even real. Perhaps, after two weeks, the line between the Phantom and Sam Specter was beginning to blur for him as well. Perhaps he was foolish enough to believe that due to the Phantom’s utter devotion to his personas, Sam was just as real as any other human. 

YOOOOOO

Same though. SAME. Because for so long I thought the author didn’t care too much about the phantom, I put way too much stock in Sam. “The narrative wants us to care about Sam, not the phantom. Because the other way around is too good to be true… right?” I also thought maybe Simon was still slightly underestimating the phantom’s level of self-deception at the time as well.

But guess what? Sam is a trap. You find yourself growing attached or caring about Sam in ANY way, you are in a roundabout way caring about the phantom. The person just behind the façade. And once you’re in too deep, all that’s left is for the façade to be yanked away. A sleight of hand wherein you realise oh, oh no…

Over the past few chapters, there’s been a sudden rush of information and situations that just, it all happens so fast, it seems.

“That’s why you need to remind Agent Fulbright not to get too attached to his new friend. You and I both know there’s only one acceptable ending to this sorry tale.” Only one acceptable ending… Execution. […] Either way, the Phantom’s fate was unavoidable. Unavoidable and of his own choosing. Death.

And when I read this, I grew very serious. I nodded to myself in complete agreement and internally said, in all seriousness… “yes.”

They were to head for Fulbright’s apartment, a location that was already known to the Phantom either way. He’d made it perfectly clear he didn’t want the spy knowing about his own apartment- Aura’s apartment- in order to have at least one safe location should things go awry.

Huh… I guess what it comes down to here is the phantom’s lack of memories… Because he should know about Simon’s apartment. But he wouldn’t now, due to the fall…

Haunted Specters, Chapter 19

“Nice beard!” she remarked, grinning so widely Simon wondered whether it might hurt her face. “Are you going for the middle-aged Obi Wan Kenobi look?”

THIS IS ATHENA’S SECOND STAR WARS REFERENCE IN THIS SERIES… what a tiny yet consistent running thread.

“Sam,” Bobby called, hoping to get his attention. In retrospect, that’d been a bad move. Sam started so badly that he accidentally shook the pocket watch, sending tiny gears and screws all over the floor. A few words of Cohdopian escaped him- perhaps curses that Simon couldn’t understand.

SDKBDSJBK HOW MUCH OF THIS REACTION IS GENUINE… PLEASE TELL ME AT LEAST SOME OF IT

He drew a steadying breath and turned to face them, eyes narrowing when his gaze fell on Athena. For a moment, there was nothing. Then his expression brightened to the point where Simon found it almost suspicious. Sam pushed himself to his feet with a flourish and approached her. He prattled something in Cohdopian and leaned forward in a bit of a bow. Then he took Athena’s hand with his own, pressing his lips against the back of it, causing her to giggle.

ASKJBADLBJADKLNADKNL?

OKAY THIS IS! HAHAHA, LET’S UNPACK THIS

I JUST… I

1- The phantom knows DAMN well who Athena is

2- The phantom ACTIVELY DECIDES to do this. Not only that, but he ACTIVELY DECIDES, on Sam’s behalf – a real person who used to be alive that he stole the identity of - that this is how Sam Specter would react to meeting Athena. That Sam would treat her like this and have this opinion of her. (Or, who knows… Maybe Sam just tends to be this way towards women in general and Athena isn’t getting singled out…?)

3- I JUST CAN’T BELIEVE HE DOES THIS OMG

4- HE KNOWS FULL WELL HOW MUCH THIS WOULD IRK SIMON AND BOBBY.

5- HE OBVIOUSLY HAS NO WAY OF KNOWING FOR CERTAIN THAT THIS IS HOW SAM WOULD REACT TO ATHENA, SO

6- THE PHANTOM IS A GODDAMN TROLL, ‘NUFF SAID

“What did he say?” “He uh… He said that she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen,” Bobby rolled his eyes, mouth drawn in bitter distaste. Words failed Simon completely. His mouth opened, then closed itself. He gave Sam’s shoulder one last squeeze in warning before releasing him. This time, not even Fulbright seemed entirely willing to overlook Sam’s behavior, as he was watching the man closely as well.

Haaahahah. You did it. You actually put in brief joke phantom/Athena.

You know what makes this better? Much later, way after this scene, prior to the end of Vanquishing Mirages, I messaged another one of my friends basically saying “Hey… So I haven’t finished it yet so I can’t say for absolute certain… But so far, this may just be one of the best fanfiction series I have ever read.”

He replied something akin to, “LOL, yeah, imagine if you kept reading on only for it to suddenly turn into romantic Athena/phantom? Bet you’d kinda regret saying that then.”

To which I was able to gleefully and jokingly reply, “…Oh, it’s been done.”

Haunted Specters, Chapter 20

He considered following anyway, allowing the Phantom to suffer for the sake of stopping Fulbright from doing something foolish, but then… It wouldn’t be the Phantom who would suffer. Most likely, it’d be Sam Specter, who had nothing to do with any of this.

BUT THE F

SAM ISN’T- THE PHANTOM IS-

Nevermind.

“If he can feel emotions now, maybe we can straighten them out! Maybe he can be rehabilitated to-”

Me: Bobby, no. Don’t.

Okay, so when I read this… the prospect of the emotions getting “straightened out” was something that piqued my interest. It was something I knew I would like to see. But to whatever extent they could be “straightened out”, although I figured it would be fascinating to see, I figured it would be very limited. Even something limited would be quite significant, but…

…I still agreed with Simon. It would ultimately change nothing in the grand scheme of things. That man – the phantom – would still have to die in the end. He needed to die. That’s the only way this could end.

I wouldn’t have denied wanting to see his emotions get straightened out before he meets his end though, however limited the results may be. I felt the same tug Bobby did – I wanted him to be helped. But helped prior to an inevitable death.

Let us return to this earlier segment that I commented on:

”[…] You and I both know there’s only one acceptable ending to this sorry tale.” Only one acceptable ending… Execution. […] Either way, the Phantom’s fate was unavoidable. Unavoidable and of his own choosing. Death.

And I’m going to expand a little more on what I essentially thought when I first read it beyond my simple “yes” that I supplied before:

“Absolutely. No way out of it. So narrative, make it so. He has to die. I’ll be waiting. I will hold you to your word. Everyone from Bobby to the narrative and the reader have been getting awfully familiar with and caring for the phantom with the new sympathetic slant the story’s been taking. Almost suspiciously so. But it changes nothing. He must die. It is the only acceptable ending to this story. Tragic? Sure. But there’s no real alternative. None.”

You might be a little like “whoa, whoa – hold up. Isn’t he your favourite character?! The whole reason you started this series?”

To which I’d reply: “Absolutely. And he needs to be executed and/or die, if this is the route the narrative ultimately seems to be heading in.”

“…By all means, allow Bobby and Simon to become unwittingly invested. Make the phantom sympathetic. Pile on the angst. But in the end…? Execution. Death”

Why? ...I’d been hurt before.

And to understand this oddly firm stance… Apologies, but I need to briefly talk a little bit about Turnabout to the Past. XD

Turnabout to the Past is a narrative that is constantly building up to the phantom’s inevitable execution – or rather, Robert LaRoche’s execution, by the end of it. We – the readers - grow to care. Simon grows to care. Athena grows to care. About him. This care, and LaRoche’s changes and regaining of identity, do not grant him full redemption. He is still required to pay for his crimes. This never changes.

From the way the story is set up and construed, Robert LaRoche’s redemption actually hinges upon his execution. In an odd kind of way, although he can make progress towards redemption, full redemption cannot be granted until he is dead – regaining his identity, changing his behaviour, and having other characters become invested in him on its own is not enough, even though they are all contributing factors towards redemption. Full redemption is still withheld from him until his execution can be carried out.

Like many people who read Turnabout to the Past, I bawled my eyes out. The “execution” scene left me a complete and utter mess. The whole ending – all of it – just ruined me.

In the end, he cheats death. In doing so, he cheats himself out of a full, complete and proper redemption. It is a huge act of betrayal. He betrays Simon, he betrays Athena, he fundamentally betrays himself. He is forced to leave the Robert LaRoche he struggled so hard to regain behind once more.

Simon wanted him to face death. That’s what he wanted him to do from the beginning. That’s the promise between them. But he doesn’t. The promise is broken.

I felt betrayed by LaRoche, too. I cried so hard and so much at his “execution”. And for what?

As much as the execution scene wrecked me, as much as it hurt, as painful as it was, however much I was crying, it felt right. He had to die. This was what the entire fic had been building towards. It was “the only acceptable ending to this story”.

But he cheats death. And I felt betrayed, and I felt angry towards the character for doing something like this to me, to Athena, to Blackquill, to himself.

Athena and Blackquill are grieving. They are grieving over him. And for what? For what?! How could he do this? How could I forgive him? How could he not only betray Athena and Blackquill but also cause them so much pain and suffering – grief – in the process?! Grief based on a false premise. Grief for… For nothing.

…Inevitably, I got the hell over myself, and came back to read the super cool sequel. :P We wouldn’t have gotten such a cool sequel if it wasn’t for that betrayal…!

Obviously, this fic is not that fic. This series is very different, so the exact same rules do not, cannot apply. But I still had some baggage lying around, and I was essentially (unfairly) taking it out on this fic’s version of the phantom. “Well, someone has to die. LaRoche didn’t die. He cheated death. So this phantom isn’t allowed to. So don’t let him get away.”

Well obviously, you already know that I’m happy with how things turn out, so… It’s a foregone conclusion that this perspective changes at some point as this series continues!

Simon hadn’t bothered to bid him farewell. He hadn’t truly gotten along with Sam either way.

!!!!

Bobby looked torn for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure what to say or how to even say it. “… But don’t hurt her, okay? There’s no real reason to injure her, so… Don’t. And try not to get hurt yourself.” “Yes, mother,” the Phantom droned. Bobby didn’t reply.

YOU JUST COULD NOT RESIST MAKING THIS JOKE COULD YOU, and I absolutely can’t blame you. I LOVE it.

ALSO I’M JUST SDJDSJLNLNDS? This is supposed to be a sarcastic quip right? But I’m NOT SURE HOW MUCH SELF-AWARENESS THE PHANTOM HAS WHEN MAKING THIS JOKE…

Haunted Specters, Chapter 21

The… The confrontation between Mirage & the phantom… The phantom was always the one in control during the flashbacks with Mirage. He was always the one who had power over her, both in the sense that he is the one teaching her new skills and is therefore “in charge” and kinda of a higher rank, and he also wields power over her – unintentionally so – in the fact that she holds affection for him.

And now that’s turned on its head. The phantom is on his knees, powerless, grasping, begging. Mirage has all the power. Mirage is the one in control. Probably for, well, the first time ever, she’s actually seeing the phantom losing control, powerless, weak, she is wielding power over him.

So on the one hand, part of me is kinda like “yeah, show him who’s boss, show him what’s what, it’s your turn to be in control now!” But on the other hand I was like. “NOO MIRAGE I THOUGHT YOU WERE COOL… WHY… I TRUSTED YOU… LOOK WHAT YOU’RE DOING TO MY FAVE… I THOUGHT YOU CARED?? HOW COULD YOU…” And ultimately, the second perspective won out.

Also, the casual way she talks about killing people coupled with how she treats the phantom towards the end of the scene is a reminder that, however much of a fun and exciting character she is, she is still a dangerous criminal involved in the facilitation of things like uh, HUMAN TRAFFICKING.

The Phantom had had another breakdown.

It started feeling like a running, constant occurrence at this point. Really felt like the characters could really start using one of these:

They’re definitely gonna have to reset it a few more times, too. :’D

SAM’S NOTE. SAM’S NOTE. OH NOOO. SAM’S NOTE. I AM FEELING KINDA SENTIMENTAL OVER A FICTIONAL FAKE PERSONA’S DEPARTURE FROM THE NARRATIVE GOD DAMMIT. How?!

Sam was a literary trap, aiding in dooming us all.

Towards the end, treating Sam Specter as a real person was no longer a knowing act of self-deception on Simon’s part, but had rather become a habit that he’d fallen into. A habit that comes awfully naturally now. One that he sometimes may not even be aware of, and sometimes may need to consciously wake himself up from.

The explanation that I’ve finally settled on… is that it was never about how “human” Sam is. Because Sam will always be artificial. He can never become 100% real or human. The real Sam is already dead and cannot be resurrected. It was never even about Sam. It had always been about the phantom. The phantom that was always hiding just underneath.

There’s something else, too, towards the end of this fic. Before, when the parents-and-their-child dynamic was set up, and the trio were all forced to live together in a temporary truce, I referred to it as a special liminal space wherein they were sectioned off from the rest of the characters and the rest of the world. In this strange little space, they and the reader had to ignore the extreme oddity of the circumstances to some degree in order to function properly and make sense of it. Simon and Bobby can tell themselves that this is only temporary, and that soon enough, everything can just go back to normal again once they abandon their little liminal space over in Cohdopia and everything wraps up. That is a false promise.

After an extended interval, their liminal space gets broken, intruded upon. First by Lang, who enters their odd little circle that is still being propped up. Then by Athena. And they return to America, too. They’re not in Cohdopia anymore in a secretive little apartment no one else knows about. The location changes. They’re not completely sectioned off from the other characters anymore. But things have changed. Things are changing. Bobby does not “snap out of it”. He only becomes more steadfast and entrenched in his support of the phantom.  Simon is clearly, well…! He’s being influenced. And the phantom is still able to interact neutrally with the other members of the cast. The new light and perspective shed on him by the fic does not suddenly vanish, he doesn’t suddenly “change back” to whatever he seemed to be before. Of course not. There’s a line of continuity here, and the dynamic changes between the cast cannot be boxed away, sectioned off, erased.

The phantom’s child abuse flashback is a sudden, powerful jab that disarms the reader, however momentarily. Then there is parent-child dynamic in the current cast revealed. With the reader distracted like this, a sudden onslaught is unleashed in the chapters following. An onslaught of flashbacks, a whole host of neutral interactions the phantom is shown having, both in past and present. Neutral interactions, which on its own is quite a feat. Considering how, well, despicable he can be, HAS been. How he has always been “the enemy” before. And yet we are given so many neutral interactions. Not positive per se. Just… neutral. But that alone is enough. And in Mirage in the teen flashbacks, we actually get to see someone from the phantom’s past who cares about him. As a person. There’s other little things too, like the aforementioned sort-of hobby revealed. The flow, the outpouring of all these little things just starts and it does not stop. It will not stop. At the end of this fic, heading into the next one, we are already teetering on the edge of… Something. And it’s only going to increase in volume, become more palpable, grow stronger from here on out.

There’s also little scattered things here as well, like the phantom looking out for Bobby in his own way. And the mask… the mask that is not like the others. I feel that there have been many, many narrative sleights of hand that have come into play, subtle enough that it makes them difficult to document. And I can’t document them all, because there’s just so many.

And then in the epilogue, the bone sliver gets revealed, and it’s like HMM… HMMMM… Food for thought, folks. Food for thought!

…Oh and I forgot to comment on this under the appropriate chapter’s banner, but uh, I absolutely loved Bobby’s whole “call him back in fifteen minutes” exchange with Simon xDDD.

So that looks like Haunted Specters pretty much wrapped up, I think. Vanquishing Mirages up next!

[stevenuniversallyreviews]

Episode 90: Restaurant Wars

“Thanks for calling Fish Stew Pizza, we do fries now.”

After a streak of episodes about neglect, mourning, disability, consent, and harassment, I think I’m ready for a goofy one.

Restaurant Wars is the stupidest episode of Steven Universe, and I don’t say that with an ounce of ill will. I do say this with the knowledge that Say Uncle exists: non-canon goofs are what they are, but this story takes place in continuity so it is official that Steven once saved the boardwalk by turning his house into a restaurant and making better food than two food professionals. That will never again be a thing that didn’t happen in his life.

From the start, there’s no attempt to hide the silliness. The conflict begins with Fryman and Kofi screaming “RESTAURANT WAR” at each other and cutting to black. The episode is presented in a series of titled vignettes and never stops treating the Fryman/Pizza feud as seriously as a...

...I can’t even finish that sentence, the principal characters here are named Mr. Fryman and Kofi Pizza. We don’t even know Fryman’s first name, and Kofi’s last name is the word “pizza” and he runs a pizza shop. This is so, so, so dumb. I love it.

A huge strength of this series is its ability to balance depth with humor, the big term serialization with the normal daily life of a magical kid. It sometimes swings hard at plotty episodes, but rarely does it swing this far in the opposite direction. I’m not talking about Restaurant Wars being a townie episode, because plenty of townie episodes affect the overall plot and develop important characters. Steven’s connection to humanity is critical to his status as a child of two worlds, so while alien stuff might be cooler, there will always be a place for the mundane in the actual plot. 

This is a matter of tone, and Restaurant Wars is the tonal opposite of a plot-heavy story that expands the characters and lore. Uncle Grandpa and Log Date 7 15 2 and Kindergarten Kid have a similar devotion to comedy, but we still get arcs for the characters within them. Nobody grows in Restaurant Wars. The conflict’s resolution is about returning to the status quo we saw at the beginning of the episode, not moving forward or learning critical information. The single consequence is that Ronaldo gets dumped by a girlfriend we didn’t even know he had until moments before it happens, which is just deliciously cruel. 

This might actually be my favorite Ronaldo episode, if I’m including episodes featuring him on top of episodes where he’s the focus: it’s not that I revel in watching him suffer (not fully, anyway), but Zachary Steel is really good at making that suffering funny, from his livid “Do you know how much BLOGGING I haven’t been able to do!?” to lasting despair after his surprisingly real girlfriend breaks up with him. It’s a welcome change of pace from his smug buffoonery, and it’s such a surprising and mean joke for the episode to end without throwing him a single bone. This subplot alone is worth the price of admission.

The breakup, like everything else in the episode, borrows its tone from the cheesiest anime melodrama anyone could ask for. There may be a reference to a more specific show, but I’m frankly not huge on slice of life anime, and despite how much I love writing about Steven Universe I draw a line at doing extensive research about friggin’ Restaurant Wars. Regardless, we get the drawn-out gasps, the kabuki emoting, the dramatic camera flashes, the works. It’s not just anime stuff—the vignette titles evoke the sort of Ken Burns parody you’d see in a show like Community, let nobody say Lamar Abrams and Katie Mitroff don’t have eclectic comedy tastes—but even a casual like me can see the Japanese influence here.

This is the sort of episode that only works every once in a while, because it’s so much compared to the general mood of the series. I understand anyone who dislikes Restaurant Wars, because it’s really different and nothing happens and it’s unbelievably stupid. But dammit, I can’t stay mad at it. Its timing is perfect, in the middle of a stretch of Beach City episodes that have been varying levels of stressful. It’s not interrupting anything or wasting your time for a second by pretending to be anything it’s not. The crew just wanted to tell a stupid story about grown men feuding over who gets to make what food, and that’s okay.

It helps that we get a better look at Fryman and Kofi, two adults that Steven understandably doesn’t hang out with very often. We already know Kofi has a temper, but Fryman until now has been defined by his gruff acceptance of how weird the world around him is, and it’s fantastic to see him revved up. My favorite joke of the episode has Steven explain that Fryman’s supposed to do fries by acknowledging his name and absurd hair, only for Fryman to not realize his hair is shaped like fries. These ridiculous names and his ridiculous character design already exist, so they might as well be used for a ridiculous story.

To be clear, this better look doesn’t actually mean much for their characters, because in a normal episode I doubt Kofi would try branding people with an iron. Again, this isn’t an story about growing, so at best we understand by the end of it that these two take their jobs seriously, but that’s something we already knew. Perhaps it would be funnier to use more established characters for something this zany, but I think we benefit from the flexibility that comes with relative blank slates: Restaurant Wars was never going to be believable, but it would be even less believable if people we knew acted this out of character. 

Their kids get a nice amount of focus as well. I love finally seeing Jenny and Kiki hang out with Ronaldo and Peedee, even in this situation. I get why they wouldn’t normally interact, as Peedee is an anxious kid and Ronaldo is Ronaldo, but these are neighboring families that each have two siblings who work in their dads’ food shops. Add in the fact that both families seem to have single fathers (although Jenny and Kiki are lucky enough to have the world’s greatest Gunga) and the Frymans and Pizzas have a lot in common. 

Unlike their parents, we get grounded character moments here that show these four probably have some history together. The highlight is Jenny stage whispering her doubt about Ronaldo’s girlfriend to Peedee, who immediately agrees; these are people who are able to stand the guy enough to hang out with him, but know he’s usually full of it. Jenny gets a sweet moment supporting Kiki, and Kiki’s people-pleasing attitude might be “helpful” here, but her focus on the needs of others above her own will be addressed in our very next episode.

There’s really nothing else to talk about in an outing like Restaurant Wars, but I have two stray thoughts for this stray episode. First, I’m glad it happened after Greg got rich, because even if it’s not mentioned it at least adds some realism into the conversion of Steven’s home. Second, I’m baffled by the pairing of the mundane pizza bagel with the revolutionary fries filled with ketchup, but I’m not exactly gonna be taken out of the moment by a strange plot point here. I’m glad I live in a world where this episode exists. But I'll also be glad to get back to the actual show. 

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

This is by no means a favorite, and it’s not an episode I’m ever gonna rewatch outside of a binge or for reviewing purposes, but come on. It’s not hurting anybody.

Top Fifteen

Steven and the Stevens

Hit the Diamond

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

The Return

Jailbreak

The Answer

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Mr. Greg

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Beach City Drift

Winter Forecast

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Warp Tour

The Test

Future Vision

On the Run

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Keeping It Together

We Need to Talk

Chille Tid

Cry for Help

Keystone Motel

Catch and Release

When It Rains

Back to the Barn

Steven’s Birthday

It Could’ve Been Great

Message Received

Log Date 7 15 2

Same Old World

The New Lars

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Onion Friend

Historical Friction

Friend Ship

Nightmare Hospital

Too Far

Barn Mates

Steven Floats

Drop Beat Dad

Too Short to Ride

Restaurant Wars

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

Super Watermelon Island

Gem Drill

No Thanks!

     5. Horror Club      4. Fusion Cuisine      3. House Guest      2. Sadie’s Song      1. Island Adventure

[hollenka99]

New York

Summary: Jameson moves away from home, meets new people who will play important roles in his life and starts a company with his brother. Chapter 1.

September 24, 1906 Dear Mother,

Clifford and I have arrived safely in New York. Our accommodation is a small and we have taken to alternating whose turn it is to sleep on the floor. Fear not, I am sure we will earn enough soon to pay for a better apartment. However, for now, our arrangement will suffice.

Manhattan itself has made a decent first impression on me. There are a number of theatres within walking distance of our apartment. Cliff is interested in auditioning for some roles once they are advertised. Carnegie Hall is near us too. Do you remember me telling you about it before we left? It certainly has a reputation. Neither of us has the ability to perform there.

How are things in Saint John without us? I hope you are not too lonely with only Pearl at home to keep you company. We both miss all of you.

Yours, Jameson

October 9, 1906 Dear Mother,

We have become successful in securing ourselves jobs. I have become a proof reader while Clifford is being paid as an actor. With our salaries combined, we can bring home up to $45 a week. That isn't a bad amount, if I must say. Of course, that is the best case scenario. Cliff's contributions will be inconsistent. I don't wish to be the sole financial provider but I will if I must. Although, I must admit the thought of it is fairly stressful.

I have heard from Cliff that you scolded him for our sleeping arrangement. Please do not treat him as if he is forcing me into this situation. I was the one who suggested it. Furthermore, lying on my back has never caused me to asphyxiate before. I highly doubt I will begin being affected by it any time soon.

I promise you, I am healthy. You can be reassured that I trust my brother with my life. Clifford has never done anything with the intent of harming me. He will not risk my health nor my safety, especially not in an attempt to be at an advantage. There is no need to fret over this.

Yours, Jameson

December 26, 1906 Dear all,

I hope you have enjoyed Christmas together. It was odd to be away from you this year as well as a shame we could not visit. Unfortunately, money is short for us as of right now. If all goes well, we may be able to celebrate together again next December.

Despite this, we were not lonely. Of course, we had each other. However, we did invite two friends of ours to share our pitifully small spread. It was a night full of riveting conversations and laughter. I enjoyed getting to know our friends better. One of them teaches piano to the local children. If I invite her to celebrate Christmas in the future, I should ensure there is a piano for her to play. It will certainly make the long nights pass quickly if there is music for us to sing to. I myself may not sing but I'm sure there is a carol or hymn that requires a duet. I could always assist with the chords while she plays the melody.

The funniest coincidence occurred yesterday. Cliff and I have both been interested in purchasing a Brownie from Eastman Kodak. At $1 a camera and $2 for development, I'd say one of those cameras would be a decent investment. The two of us both agreed we'd save up, prioritising essentials such as food and rent, then we would discuss buying one to share. I will confess that I suffered impatience. I may have bought the camera for Christmas. So, it would seem, did Cliff. As consequence, we appear to be in a situation where we have gifted the exact same present to each other. It was a humourous beginning to the day.

I can hardly take 117 photographs in the space of 24 hours. Once I have become familiar with the device, I may choose to include some photographs in my letters. I doubt the elements will be kind to them but unfortunately, I do not have another choice but to expose them to potential damage.

Hoping this coming year treats us all favourably, Jameson

December 28, 1906 Dearest Siobhan,

I would hate for you to be lonely as we greet the new year. Clifford and I would be more than happy to have you celebrate with us. Please consider joining us on Monday night.

Yours, Jameson

March 11, 1907 Dear Jameson,

I have a query that has been on my mind for the past couple weeks. I hope I am not overstepping any boundaries by asking you for the answer. If I am, I apologize and will not bring the subject up again. I am simply curious as to how your muteness developed. You are clearly not hard of hearing as you understand everything I say to you in person. For that reason, my intrigue into you condition has grown. This is not something you are able explain to me with your hands. It seems too complex for that.

On an entirely unrelated matter, would yourself and Clifford be interested in joining me next Sunday for drinks? You told me you were half Irish on your father's side. If you would like to consider celebrating that heritage, I would be more than happy to host the two of you.

Please, do not feel obliged to answer my question if it makes you uncomfortable. That would be the last thing I would want.

Sincerely yours, Siobhan

March 14, 1907 Dearest Siobhan,

You would be correct in your belief that I am not able to explain my condition through American sign language. Do not worry about offending me. I was planning to tell you this story regardless, only at a later date.

Years ago, when I was a boy of nine, I found myself suffering from a malfunctioning thyroid. The doctors suggested surgery to treat me. Unfortunately, they must have made a mistake as I woke to part of my vocal cords being paralysed. The condition is known as vocal fold paresis or, if you really want to sound sophisticated, recurrent laryngeal nerve paralysis. While I am physically able speak aloud, it is difficult. I found it easier to speak through sign. My family learned ASL alongside me.

What I was not aware of was that vocal cords also contribute to breathing. You can imagine the physical education lessons in high school I had to endure. You should not worry yourself after receiving this letter. The extent this affects me is not great. I simply have to be vigilant when exercising and eating. If you are present when I accidentally choke on a meal, by all means help me. Otherwise, please don't act like I will meet my doom at any second. My mother still does at times and it is unbelievably frustrating to convince her I am fine.

I hope this was informative and answered any queries you may have had.

Patiently awaiting those drinks, Jameson

April 15, 1907 Dear Jameson,

While I do appreciate the poems slipped into my mail, if you send me any more, you may actually succeed in making me blush. You're lucky Lent ended two weeks ago. You should know better than to tempt those you care for with such sweet things. The next thing you know, you'll have enough to compile into an anthology.

Ever yours, Siobhan

May 23, 1907 Jameson,

You must tell me what you think of Elizabeth. Lord knows your brother won't tell me. He barely knows her, he can't after only a handful of months. How long have you lived in New York now? I think it may be seven or eight months. That is not enough time to truly get to know someone. Especially when you are planning to spend the rest of your life with them. Marriage is not to be taken lightly. Clifford clearly does not understand that.

Mark my words, he will regret his decision. I will only attend the ceremony because I can see you again after all these months. I am surprised you are not angered by this. After all, you are the one who pays for everything. How much do you actually earn a week? $20? You can just about to afford to live on that. You can't, however, afford to live on $20 and pay for a wedding. Are you not irritated by this? You should be, Jameson.

In other news, it should only be a few days before you become an uncle. I, for one, am delighted to become a grandmother. Harvey has made me promise to stay by Edith's side while he works. As if I wouldn't do so anyway. Even if a midwife cannot arrive quickly, I know how to help her. It is difficult not to have some knowledge after delivering five children myself. She is in safe hands. I suppose you will be able to meet the child at the wedding.

You have my love, Your mother.

May 31, 1907 Dear Cliff and Jem,

I have good news to bring you. Yesterday, Edith safely delivered a girl. Both she and our daughter appear to be recovering well. We have chosen to name her Dorothy. I hope you visit Saint John soon so you both may meet her. As to be expected, our mother is fawning over her first grandchild. I will not deny that her help is welcome.

Additionally, congratulations to you, Clifford, on your engagement to Elizabeth. Myself and Edith are looking forward to the wedding. We wish the two of you a long happy life spent by each other's side.

Wishing you well, Harvey

June 8, 1907 Dear Mother,

Unfortunately, I am not responsible for Cliff's actions. He appears to genuinely care for his 'Lizzy-Beth'. If things end poorly, I have no way of changing it. I understand your 'let him repent at leisure' sentiment. That said, he is an adult now. I don't feel I am in the position to tell him what he can and cannot do.

Elizabeth herself is a respectful woman. She is a teacher so I assume she is intelligent. You mustn't forget she agreed to marry a man she has only known since November. There are always at least two parties involved in an engagement. If the marriage does not last, they can regret their haste with equal responsibility for getting married in the first place.

Either way, the truth of the matter is that Cliff is getting married regardless of our opinions. We must learn to tolerate that reality. At least he will be able to point to whereabouts he made his mistake.

Yours, Jameson

July 2, 1907 Dear Mother,

With Clifford preparing to marry Elizabeth, I am sure you wonder whether I have met somebody myself. I must confess I have indeed allowed myself to become a fool for a woman.

Her name is Siobhan O'Hara. You may remember me indirectly mentioning her during my Christmas letter. I met her last December when she was playing piano at a dance. I felt the need to compliment her musical skill. After that, I encouraged her to leave the music to someone else at the next dance she attended. For some unknown reason, she accepted my offer. In the months since, I have been teaching her how to sign and spending many spare hours in her company. We have already visited Central Park multiple times together.

You really should hear her play. She is so graceful it is as if an angel possesses her. In fact, her hair makes me wonder whether she is not one is disguise. She has been tutoring me, much like the local children who pay her. Perhaps I should demonstrate my improvement the next time I return home.

I am sure you will be able to meet Siobhan at Cliff's wedding. I have not properly discussed attendance with her yet but I doubt she will decline my offer. She is a friend of Cliff's too.

Yours, Jameson

July 23, 1907 Jem,

Thank you for the birthday present; I love it. Perhaps your gift for me next year can be understanding sarcasm.

Your angel, Siobhan

(P.S. With complete honesty, I do adore the compilation. I hope I am not mistaken in thinking I saw some new additions. I will have a thorough read when I next get the chance. Afterwards, I should prepare for your birthday. You are not the only one who can perform grand gestures.)

July 27, 1907 Jameson,

I certainly must meet this young woman. From your words, I can tell you are enamoured by her. I am happy you are finding joy in her company. I remember frequently meeting your father by the dockyard when we were young. They were simpler times. My biggest worry when I was your age was understanding your grandmother's accent.

My only advice is that you treat each other well and do not rush into anything. You are not yet 20 years old. You have decades of life ahead of you. You have time to be careful in your choices. If in time nothing changes for the two of you, I will be delighted to welcome her into the family.

Wishing you well, Your mother

November 1, 1907 Siobhan,

I know you have appointments today. I know I only saw you yesterday too. However, if you are able, would you spend time with me tonight? We don't have to converse. All I am really wishing for is some company. Normally, I would be surrounded by my mother and siblings, remembering our father. Cliff and I made do last year with only the two of us. Unfortunately, he is with Elizabeth tonight.

By all means, bring a candle for your mother. I think I may have a spare from last year you can use if you don't own one. We can watch the flames as we reflect in peace. Choose whichever option you prefer but I would rather not be alone this evening. That said, only come of your own volition. I don't wish to force you into dedicating your time to something you are not interested in.

Thank you for understanding, Jameson.

November 2, 1907 Dearest Siobhan,

Thank you for last night. I wasn't expecting to learn more about you when I invited you. I am sorry to hear your mother died the way she did. I know it runs through generations but perhaps there is hope neither you nor Michael will suffer the same way. There is that possibility, correct?

Even if you do become afflicted with the disease, know that I will be there to care for you until the end. That is my sincere promise to you. It does not matter to me how it affects you, I won't leave you in when you need me the most. Besides, you are nineteen and I have barely passed the threshold of my twenties. Should you be affected, we still have twenty or so years before the first symptoms make themselves known. A great deal can happen in twenty years.

I love you dearly, Siobhan. I simply wished to have someone beside me as I acknowledged another year without my father. After what you told me, I cannot go about my day without ensuring it is explicitly clear to you that I will be there for you always. So long as you will allow me, of course.

Thinking of you, Jameson

March 21, 1908 Dear all,

Cliff and I are proud to announce that Jackson Brothers Productions has officially been founded. The financial aspects of it are still yet to become stable. However, that won't stop us from doing our best to become respectable members of the film industry. At the moment, we are not concerned with securing the position of top dog. That can be worked on in a few years when we have established ourselves as filmmakers people want to see.

I will be the head writer and manage the money while Cliff directs. We will both act in our films. The plan is to start off slowly, working our way up. The script for our first short for the company is finished. Once it is released, we hope you will enjoy it.

Here's to realising dreams, Jameson

August 10, 1908 Dear Mother,

I visited the Statue of Liberty recently with Cliff, Elizabeth and Siobhan. Lady Liberty truly does look magnificent. I hear she stands at 93 metres tall. To reach her, you must travel by boat. It was a simple case of cycling to the harbour then boarding the vessel to Bedloe's Island.

As we walked around the statue, Siobhan told us about the first time she saw it. It was back in 1904, she was still on her boat to the city and suddenly she had a clear view of the Statue of Liberty. She explained it instilled a determination of sorts within her, motivating her to make her plans work. I knew beforehand that she arrived before us and was therefore younger but I never contemplated the fact she would have been sixteen. Even at 18, I felt slightly overwhelmed with only myself and Cliff when we first came to New York. I remember Pearl being upset she couldn't join us but she was 14 in 1906, barely out of school and only just old enough to work.

Siobhan became enthralled in her own story. She began switching topics as she went off on tangents, to the point where I was the only one listening to her. I can certainly relate to the initial financial worries. I am impressed that she was able to keep a level head during those early days. It also pleases me that she sees the statue as a source of inspiration like I do, if only in a different way.

I have been reflecting on the day. Something about Siobhan made me realise something new about how I feel for her. I am not sure whether she reciprocates. I will ponder more on it and make my final decision by the end of this year. Either way, I will ask her to accompany me on a trip to Saint John this Christmas. I met her father last month during his visit to New York as a way of celebrating her birthday. It is high time she met you all too.

Yours, Jameson

December 13, 1908 Dear Sir,

I wished to discuss some important plans I want to begin preparing for. It was a pleasure meeting you in July and a joy to witness how close your relationship with Siobhan is. I appreciate being received so warmly by you, especially as you were only intending to celebrate her birthday. I can tell Siobhan is such a kind and caring woman because of your influence.

I hope it was apparent that your daughter means the world to me. I intend to spend the rest of my life proving that to her. I would like to ask your daughter for her hand and I would be honored to have your blessing. Please, in the very least, consider it.

Yours faithfully, Jameson Jackson

December 16, 1908 Dearest Siobhan,

You don't need to fret about meeting my mother and siblings. You already know Cliff. They are just as easy to get along with.

My mother is a worrisome yet kind-hearted woman. Ever since my thyroid operation, she is constantly fretting about my health. You've known me for two years now, you can tell she does not need to worry so excessively about it. There was a period of a few months when I was 14 where we were greatly at odds. She was incredibly protective of me which only lead to irritability. In hindsight, I understand she was only paranoid that her sickly son was going to develop complications. After all, she lost her husband to health issues that declined into complications. I suppose we were all trying to figure out where we all stood after his death. On an unrelated tangent, I think the only fault she will find in you is your lack of sewing skills. She works as a seamstress from home. The only reason I am vaguely competent in mending clothes is the countless nights where I mutilated bits of material as peaceful entertainment. She made my sister-in-law's wedding dress a couple of years ago. No doubt, she has already offered to do the same for Mabel.

Harvey is seven years my senior and the eldest of us. He followed our father into the shipbuilding trade so with the long hours, it is possible he may not be present often while we are visiting. He and his wife Edith have a year old daughter named Dorothy. I haven't met her yet so I am quite excited to do so. If Harvey attempts to bore you with war stories, simply nod and pretend to listen. He acts as if his participation in the Boer War makes him more of a man than those who have never served. He was barely of age as it was. We all suspect he'll join the next big war, should there be one. As you can guess, we all hope that war never comes. There is also the hope that he will be sensible, now that he has a family to stay in Canada for.

Mabel, like our mother, is a seamstress. Occasionally, she will refer to me as an early birthday present. That was more when we were younger. Oddly, having birthdays so close together caused us to become close ourselves. I cannot really explain it. We were mutually enthusiastic about each other's birthdays approaching because it also meant our own were too. There was some distance as well because little boys can't always relate to girls who are 5 years older than them. Either way, the two of us have a good relationship and I know the two of you will hit it off easily. She recently got engaged so you are likely to see her again next year when we attend the wedding.

Last but not least, there is Pearl. I may be the youngest son but she is the true baby. She is still only 16 and I worry what kind of attention she is receiving from young men. I may do my best to be respectful but some schoolboys are more like Cliff was. Cliff never practised infidelity as far as I'm aware but he certainly had a number of girlfriends in short succession when he was about 17. I have no doubt Pearl can handle herself but I can't help but be apprehensive. As you know, I have moments where I am of a mischievous nature. It is uncertain whether Pearl encouraged that side of me to develop or I was the one to trigger it in her. I must confess, the youngest three of us caused our parents such a headache in our youth. It used to be only myself and Cliff who pretended to act out these childishly outrageous tales. Then Pearl arrived, became old enough to play with us and earn her place as our third partner in crime. She wants to find success with us in the film industry but I still feel she is a little too young. One day, perhaps. She would certainly be a useful asset.

This is the closest we have come to being a complete family again after Cliff and I left home. It is a shame he won't be able to come with us. I understand his priority is Elizabeth and being there for the birth. Let's hope next year things will be different.

I promise you will be fine, Jameson

January 14, 1909 Dear Jameson,

Have you bought the ring yet? After meeting Siobhan, I am eagerly anticipating your big news in a few weeks. St Valentine's Day cannot come soon enough. Did you have to tell us during Christmas? That is six weeks of waiting.

A new girl joined us at the factory a few months ago. She finished school only last year. Like me, she does not see the point of being educated on how to be the best wife and mother when our own mothers can teach us. I am not sure about her but I am the youngest in our family. Our mother has time to teach me. The only students she ever had were myself and Mabel.

I don't know how much longer I can keep waking early, work for the majority of the day and then help Mother with sewing. I use my hands too strenuously. A good night's sleep (if such a thing existed) does nothing to help them recover. I am telling you, Jem, I will become a cripple by my 20th birthday.

Speaking of birthdays, you should buy me a ticket for New York. You know full well I want to join you in your endeavours. Isn't New York where all the filmmakers are right now? Forget about the papers, I will deal with all that. I can find myself work in a factory or bakery once I get there too. Or perhaps I could stay in your apartment and work as a seamstress from home. You left me behind but I don't wish to stand for it any longer. Allow me to make the Jackson Brothers into a trinity.

I hope to hear back from you soon, Pearl

January 27, 1909 Pearl,

You must be patient. While I would love for you to help us create our films, a lot is happening right now. I don't have the time, energy or in fact the expertise to go into details. However, to put it simply, Thomas Edison is in the process of destroying the prospects of filmmakers like us. Last month, the Motion Pictures Patent Company was formed. In short, Edison is attempting to raise his chances of success by controlling the industry before it develops further.

As I'm sure you can guess, Clifford and I are not only stressed about our professional lives but our futures as creators as well. This has all occurred in the past month or two so where this will lead is undecided. Either way, Pearl, this is one of the worst times you could join us. I promise you it would not be worth it. On top of everything, Cliff has Clara to worry about now too.

Once my finances have recovered from the inevitably large expenses that come with a wedding and Cliff settles into fatherhood, we will figure out how to proceed. Don't worry, the timing may be bad now but, if all goes well, this will change.

Please give everyone my love. Jameson

February 15, 1909 Dear all,

More good news! I am officially engaged to Siobhan. We are both eager to start preparations as soon as we can. I doubt the wedding will happen this year. Personally, I would prefer to celebrate a marriage during the warmer half of the year. Knowing Siobhan, I feel she shares a similar preference.

With Clara being born last month and my engagement, this seems to be shaping up to becoming an eventful year. Perhaps this should be the year I visit Ireland. It may be difficult with all that is happening to smaller producers here. That said, I feel I owe it to Siobhan. She has visited Saint John but I am yet to set foot in her homeland.

I do wish to see Ireland for other personal reasons. After all, I was named after the grandfather we left behind. Do you remember Granny's stories about him? I have always been bothered by Britain starving the Irish until they had no choice but to flee. It broke families like ours apart and lead to some never meeting their posthumous children. I know our father wished he had met his own.

Well, I appear to have changed the mood of this letter rather quickly, haven't I? I certainly did not intend to diverge onto such a sad tangent. By all means, have a drink on my behalf. Although, I would not encourage doing so in front of your daughter, Harvey.

Wishing you the same happiness as mine, Jameson

February 21, 1909 Jameson,

How could you? You don't know how upset you have made us. You propose marriage to such a lovely girl and refuse to tell your mother and sisters the details.

You disappoint us, Whiskey Boy. You live in secrecy and drink to your victory over us. Mother is crying, insisting that she did not raise such a terrible son. You must rectify this wrongdoing immediately. We simply won't stand for it.

Congratulations on your engagement, Pearl

February 23, 1909 Dear Jameson,

Congratulations on your engagement. I will certainly be thrilled to attend with Edward.

I struggle to believe you are already preparing to get married. It didn't seem too long ago that you were convinced I was getting married when you saw Mother making my communion dress. You also kept delivering me sand and broken shells leading up the ceremony. I don't think Father Henry was too pleased with you. It didn't help that you wandered up to near the altar in your little suit. How young you must have been back then. You can't have been older than two or three. You were always as sweet of a little brother as you were happy.

I'm glad you have someone who allows you continue your happiness in adulthood. I recall Siobhan telling me you were rather sweet as her gentleman caller too. Anyone can see how well the two of you go together. I'm warning you now, Jem, don't you dare mess this up. Women like Siobhan won't find themselves in your life often. You lose her, you will never replace the joy she gives you.

I suggest we celebrate properly in July when you visit for my own wedding.

Your loving sister, Mabel

March 7, 1909 Dear Pearl,

You can tell Mother to dry her eyes because she has a daughter so overdramatic that she will certainly succeed in an acting career, should she choose to pursue one. I did not give details because there is not much to say. However, if you must know the course of events, I will happily tell you them.

I invited Siobhan to accompany me for an evening stroll around Central Park. We walked for a while before reaching a place to rest for a moment. I asked her to marry me. She said yes. I chose not to sign during that moment. While she greatly appreciated the gesture, I can tell you my throat did not. That is purely the extent of the proposal. Forgive me for not boring you with the tale beforehand.

In all sincerity, if I have genuinely caused any of you to cry, I hope they are from joy. I have found a new source of optimism. My future is beginning to stretch out before me and I have every hope that it will be good.

Yours, Jameson

September 28, 1909 Dear all,

The harbour is beautiful now. There are lights everywhere as the city celebrates the 300th anniversary of Henry Hudson's discovery of the river and the centenary of Robert Fulton's paddle steamers. To live so close to the river, I have been enjoying the decorations. We will also witness a number of parades while we celebrate history. It began on Saturday and will carry on until October 9th.

I have been a resident here for the past three years now. It struck me that there was so much I didn't know about this city's past. Perhaps I should read up on the subject and educate myself.

But, for now, I think I will invite Siobhan to gaze at the Statue of Liberty. It made me realise I wished to love her for the rest of my days. Something about Lady Liberty inspires me. I am sure she looks even more majestic when covered in lights, especially after dark. If the answer to the Edison problem is to move elsewhere, I will certainly miss that statue.

I am also reminded of Reversing Falls. I long for that place too. Perhaps one of you should visit it on my behalf. It is odd what will stay dear to you.

I suppose I will leave you with that thought.

Yours, Jameson

November 1, 1909 Dearest Siobhan,

Thank you for the hat. I've never worn one of this style before. The men in my family were always more of the flat cap type. I have been inspecting myself in the mirror whilst wearing it. I feel a bowler hat suits me. It might give the illusion I am of a higher social standing than in reality. And with this facial hair that's growing due to negligence, I might see if a moustache suits me as well. If I can get the look right, I might have a character brewing.

Thank you again for the birthday present and the potential inspiration. If you do not appreciate the moustache, I can always be clean shaven during the wedding.

Yours always, Jameson

April 21st 1910 GROOM FULL NAME: Jameson Albert Samuel Jackson AGE: 22 RESIDENCE: West 42nd Street, Manhattan NUMBER OF MARRIAGE: First OCCUPATION: Proof-reader BIRTH PLACE: Saint John, New Brunswick, Canada NAME OF FATHER: William (Deceased) MAIDEN NAME OF MOTHER: Florence Hilliard

BRIDE FULL NAME: Siobhan Maria O'Hara AGE: 21 RESIDENCE: West 52nd Street, Manhattan NUMBER OF MARRIAGE: First OCCUPATION: Pianist BIRTH PLACE: Limerick, Ireland NAME OF FATHER: Jacob MAIDEN NAME OF MOTHER: Eileen Kelly (Deceased)

[bigskydreaming]

You know what I need more of in the X-franchise, Marvel? Above all else?

Official adoption narratives. Especially of older kids.

The X-Men’s greatest strength as a franchise is that they’re one of the ultimate examples of the found family trope. Practically every single one of them is all about finding bonds within the X-Men that they couldn’t in their biological family, if they even had one they’d ever known at all. 

And because of the weird nature of time in comic books and how they want to keep characters relatively young forever, they tend to shy away from storylines that would provide an easy comparison for exactly how old certain characters are supposed to be, such as having kids. It’s not easy, narratively speaking, to keep kids young forever, and its a lot easier to be vague on whether an older X-character is meant to be early thirties or closer to forty than it is to be vague on whether their child is meant to be seven or thirteen. Which is why even when they do baby storylines, inevitably they use time travel or accelerated aging or something like that to turn the baby into a grown character like with Cable and then with Hope Summers and assorted other instances.

So even though most of the X-Men are now assumed to be in their late twenties to late thirties age wise, and with this reflected in their teacher-student dynamics with current teen characters, none of the X-Men have really ever started families of their own, outside of the occasional storyline where evil scientists or supervillains result in an X-character getting a teenage clone or already adult child. And of course not having children is a perfectly valid choice for any adult, be they single, a couple, and regardless of how family oriented they are or not. But it bugs when you know the only reason none of the X-Men are parents by this point is just because Marvel doesn’t like dealing with the issue of young kids skewing their timeline.

And it especially bugs when you consider that there’s an extremely viable, simple and obvious way to fill this void with a narrative that’s 100% in character for all the X-Men, and that could use waaaaaay more representation in media anyway.

LET. THE. X-MEN. ADOPT. KIDS.

Especially older ones, the ones too often written off as problem children and trouble makers or ‘too old to really help’. The ones so often treated in media as though they’re basically glorified houseguests, just there to be materially provided for until they’re eighteen. Like there’s a cut off point after which older kids can’t possibly still want not just a guardian but a PARENT, not just a mother or father figure, but someone who wants to BE their mom or dad.  Like adults can’t possibly form a parent child bond as strong as any biological one if the child doesn’t come into their life before they’re a teenager, when they’re still a cute little adorable tyke.

Give me Bobby Drake encountering a gay trans mutant teenager whose parents kicked them out of the house. Bobby Drake, with his own experiences growing up in an emotionally abusive and neglectful home, who knows that this particular child needs more than just being brought to the school and getting lost in the crowd, that this child needs someone who says you deserve a parent who loves you and I want to be that parent. Because hell, every kid needs and deserves that of course, but something about the way Bobby connects with this kid right off the bat, like he just knows that what this kid needs, he can be and hey, maybe this kid is what he needs too. His love life has always been a disaster, but kids? He knows kids, hey everyone says he basically is a kid, but that’s never meant he doesn’t know how to be an adult when someone needs him to be. And hey, he’s spent the last fifteen years mastering the art of the embarrassing dad joke, no sense in letting that go to waste.

Give me Ororo Munroe adopting a STEM-loving black teenager with thick glasses and a habit of babbling when she’s nervous. Which is often at first, but gradually fades as she outright BLOSSOMS under the attention Storm showers her with, her insecurities nothing in the face of the knowledge that this legendary superhero, a woman who has been both a goddess and a queen, chose HER, looked at her when nobody else ever had and said this is her, this is the child of my heart. Whose excited ramblings about math and physics might seem an odd match for Storm at first, but really is just another way of connecting with and understanding the world around them. And Storm in turn, who never really liked being called either a goddess or a queen, but who basks in the memory of the first time her daughter called her ‘Mom.’ Who is so used to be treated reverently, but from a distance, by so many people who don’t get that nobody really wants to be considered majestic all the time, that the first time her daughter musters the confidence to tell her that for all her many talents, Storm is apparently terrible at making pancakes, all she can do is throw back her head and laugh in delight.

Give me Kurt meeting his daughter when he evacuates a burning building one teleport at a time, too exhausted by the end of it to be anything more than utterly unsurprised by the crowd keeping their usual distance thanks to his appearance. All except for one girl, standing apart from the rest, pointing at him almost reverently. “You have a tail, like me,” she says, awed.

Give me Rogue and Remy, who have always wanted a big family free of expectations or agendas, everything they wanted for themselves but never really got to have. Who’ve been nervous about starting a family for a long time, Rogue uncertain about having and raising a baby given how unpredictable her control over her powers can be, Remy uncertain about how good a father he’d be....until the day they take down what they thought was a new mutant crime ring. Turned out really to be a couple of older criminals exploiting a bunch of teen and younger mutant kids with a variety of obvious mutations that make it an unfortunately safe bet the foster system isn’t too invested in figuring out why they slipped through the cracks. There’s one who seems to be the oldest, despite the fact that he’s barely five feet of foul-mouthed, defiant fury, and he’s still more than willing to pit his malnourished frame against the two older intruders trying to mess with his ‘family’. Rogue and Remy look at each other and just know, and when the whole group arrives back at the school, various foster families the X-Men reached out to are all ready and eager to make sure each of the children has someone they feel comfortable around to go home with....no one all that surprised when the only ones the scowling young pipsqueak deems acceptable are Rogue and Remy themselves. Who are more than happy to comply.

Honestly, they’d have taken the whole group in if they could, but its one thing to want a big family and its another thing to....start off with a big family right off the bat with zero actual parenting experience. Still, they’re more than willing to host any of the others whenever their newly adopted son asks if one or two can come over. It’s obvious seeing for himself that they’re doing okay helps settle him, after feeling responsible for them for so long. And who could blame him....Rogue and Remy are more than a little attached to all the little scamps by this point, they certainly see enough of them, and there swiftly comes the day that they realize they’re more reluctant to see them go back home than even the kids themselves. Remy heads to the living room where his son is camped out in front of the TV, stands between the two until he’s forced to look up at the X-Man crossing his arms, eyes narrowed. “You’re a little con artist,” Remy accuses admiringly. The scoundrel smirks. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was still here first though. I’m not sharing a room.”

Give me a LeBeau household that’s crowded and cramped and chaotic and messy and so full of love it’s like a physical punch to the face the second you open the door to the sound of several kids screaming at each other, full Defcon 5. It’s not always easy, and its not always nice. Sometimes older kids do have behavioral issues, because that’s what happens when someone’s been nothing but screwed over for most of their life. But the kind of choice Rogue and Remy made that first day isn’t really a choice, and its definitely not one they’d ever take back, so they weather the ups and downs and the good and the bad, anchoring themselves with the memory of themselves at those ages, and what they would’ve given for someone who didn’t want or need anything from them and would never give up on them, no matter how much they pushed them away.

And Remy, who for all he’s seen and done in his life, never got around to joining in most of the X-Men’s baseball games. Or, well, learning to play it, really. But dads should be able to play catch with their kids, he figures. Oh, he doesn’t think they’ll be like, horribly scarred or anything if they don’t, but, y’know. Might be nice. So he seeks out Bobby and Sam and Jean and various others for what should be a quick tutorial, except for the fact that Remy seems to be bizarrely untalented at this one specific thing. Meanwhile, one of the girls is very into pink dresses and French braids and all the things Rogue most decidedly is not, but if her daughter wants to be a pretty princess, Rogue is not going to be the reason her daughter can’t be a goddamn princess. So she rolls up the sleeves of her bomber jacket and marches off to Janet van Dyne’s, because if you gotta learn how to braid hair, where else would you go, she figures.

Except two weeks later and they’re up after midnight at the kitchen table, Rogue practicing on a damn doll and about to pull out her own hair while Remy scowls at the glove he’s trying to break in, finding the whole process to be utterly stupid. He looks over at Rogue, about to melt the doll’s head off with the power of her ire. “Trade ya?” He asks hopefully. “God yes,” Rogue groans. “Why didn’t we think of this weeks ago?”

Which results in the other girls joining their mother in terrorizing the other X-Men families at baseball, with yodeling battle cries and a complete and utter disdain for any of the actual rules of the game, while most of the boys flock to learning to braid hair from Remy and their sister. Their own hair tends to be too short to do much more than tie it off in the back with a short little pony tail. “I like that shade of pink,” Rogue says to one, of the ribbon used. He rolls his eyes. “It’s fuchsia, Mom.”

“Of course it is, sweetheart,” she says flatly, shooting Remy an exasperated look. He smirks, unrepentant.

Give me a legacy generation of adopted X-Men children who want nothing more than to grow up to be just like their parents, because they’re secure in the knowledge their parents want nothing more of them than to be happy. Who grow up not safe, because the mansion or school or wherever the X-Men are based will never truly be safe, but none of them were really safe to begin with, and at least now they’re happy and loved and they’ll take that over safe any day. Give me a next generation of X-Men who are as diverse and varied as the X-Men should’ve all been from the start, if not for an industry and audience mired in racism, homophobia, transphobia, etc....but a next generation of diverse new characters who benefit from close personal ties to the most iconic X-Men, giving them a potential profile and staying power most other newly created characters can never hope to match. Except in the cases of new characters who capitalize on exactly those kinds of close personal ties, like X-23.

You’ve been using the X-Men to provide narratives about surrogate parent figures for decades now, with Wolverine and Kitty and then Wolverine and Jubilee, with various other characters in a number of dynamics. But with rare exceptions of stories that ultimately only last for a short arc or two or else never get mentioned again, like with Dani and Elixir or Northstar and his daughter, there’s hardly ever any instances of actual adoption or X-characters not just establishing a close mentor or guardian bond, but an actual familial relationship. The only one I can really think of is Cable and Hope, and like....spoilers, so....yeah.

Anyway.

Marvel looooooves to play up the tragic home life backstory for most of its teen or new mutants, with their being a huge number of characters over the years who’ve either been orphaned or disowned or rejected by their families because they’re mutants. 

And you expect me to believe that in all this time, not a single one of these X-Men has ever looked at one of these kids and said “you know what? You need a home, I can give you a home, let’s make this happen”?

Nope. Fake. Unrealistic. OOC. 

[athyrabunlord]

A Bet

A/N: random burst of muse. This is inspired by a popular tag on twitter #魔女集会で会いましょう (Let’s meet at the witches’ Sabbath”), where the theme is ‘a witch finds a human child and ends up raising him/her’. People mostly post original works but of course there are many fanarts under this theme as well. I have many ideas but ended settling on this one

Characters: Dia & Kanan Words: 3,096 ***This oneshot is written in second-person!*** Never written in this format before but I feel it really fits this story so, I gave it a try!

“A bet, you say?”

The human girl gives you a big grin. Those amethyst eyes are filled with an innocence that only a child could possess, blissfully unaware of the harsh world they have yet to see.

“Uh-huh! And if I win, you have to do anything I ask!”

No fear, just absolute trust and adoration. Such traits usually lead to certain death in the ruthless tundra that they live in but ah, she is with you, is she not? You are perhaps the Continent’s most feared Witch, infamous for surviving through many catastrophic wars unscathed.

This child is under your protection. Unwittingly yes, nevertheless still your responsibility. You pride yourself in never leaving any task unfinished, and so you could not bring yourself to abandon her. By chance, you had stumbled upon this orphaned child and had taken her with you on a whim. You had observed humans for centuries yet failed to understand, even now, how they have thrived in this world in spite of their countless shortcomings.

You simply want to understand, and it appears this child is just as curious as you are.

“You have heard stories about me. Surely, you can see the improbability of ever winning the bet?”

The girl furrows her brows, trying to process the difficult words you just uttered. She learns fast, as she always has, and the characteristic grin is back on her dirt-smudged face again.

“Oh I’ll find a way! This bet has no deadline, so I can just keep trying, can’t I?”

“I suppose you can.” You couldn’t help but sigh in mild exasperation. If anything, the child’s zest is impressive. Whenever she has a goal in mind, she strives to achieve it despite her young age and limited resources.

You had no idea how to raise a human child but somehow, between the two of you, an unlikely pair in this desolate terrain with sparse villages, she had grown from a toddler to an energetic kid who could climb trees on her own.

There is a slight swell of pride, much like the vague memories of when you learned to cast your very first spell and brew your first potion.

“Very well, you have a lifetime to learn how to get past my defense and land a hit on me.”

“Even a simple scratch counts!” The girl then holds out her pinkie. “I learned this in that last town we visited - it’s like a promise. You can’t go back on this bet.”

Amused, you crouch down to her level and hook your gloved pinkie around her tiny one. “Very well. I look forward to your attempts, Kanan.”

The girl laughs, a sound full of vitality and optimism. “Just wait, I’ll definitely win this bet, Dia-onee-san!”

With that proclamation, the child wraps her small arms around your neck and hugs you as tightly as her tiny body could muster.

Having lived a long, long time without any emotional upheaval, you are rather puzzled by this spur of warmth in your chest at that moment. Anticipation? A challenge to your monotonous quotidian life? Finally, a factor your power has no control over?

You find yourself smiling and returning the hug.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

“Gotcha!”

The ponytailed girl smirks, full of confidence and thrill as she leaps down from the tree branch. Her amethyst eyes are sharpened from various experiences and refined like a beautiful gem, blazing in a way only a lively adolescent could cause.

Her movements are agile and her strikes are a force to be reckoned with. You are certain that she is beyond any average human and could probably become a powerful Knight in due time. You are the one who trained her after all.

The sword she wields is also imbued with your magic and can cut through even the thickest of armors.

Alas, you are the Diamond Witch. Nothing can hurt you, not even an enhanced weapon.

“Not again?!” After your automatic shield deflects and flings her into the bushes, she rolls for a bit before bumping against a trunk. Grumbling, she sits up and rubs her head.

Seeing her pout and her dirt-covered face, you couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle. This human is quite troublesome in a way. She always gets into trouble, returning to their little cabin with scrapes and torn shirts. It’s nothing your magic couldn’t amend of course, but it’s exasperating to scold her again and again not to be so reckless.

“I did catch you by surprise, didn’t I? I saw it in your eyes.” Kanan scowls, seemingly indignant about your reaction. “So, what did I do wrong this time?”

“Nothing. You did catch me by surprise - I was not able to sense you until you jumped from that tree.” You subconsciously reach towards her messy hair and dust off all the leaves and dirt. She squirms a bit, possibly embarrassed about being treated like a child. That’s something you also don’t understand as time passes by. She will always be a child in your eyes, but just because she has grown to your height, she’s been insisting to be treated like an adult.

“Then how come your barrier still tossed me away like I was a fly or something?” She stands up and rests her large sword on her shoulder, not at all troubled by the weapon’s weight. It’s sometimes hard to superimpose the image of this muscular adolescent to the twig of a child from a decade ago.

“Because my shield is automatic, like an instinct. It is my ultimate defense, and why I was called the Diamond Witch.” You give her a patient look as you fix the rips in her sleeveless shirt.

Perhaps it’s time for another trip to the nearest human village. There are only so many times magic can mend a piece of clothing. You have always avoided any interactions with humans, but Kanan is free to do whatever she pleases. Some of the human confections she brings back from time to time taste rather delicious so the idea isn’t completely bad.

“Whaaaaat! Then I’ll never be able to win then?”

“Well, that is exactly what I have been telling you. It is impossible.”

“No it isn’t, I’ll prove you wrong.” As expected, Kanan’s dampened spirit doesn’t last long. A familiar smile brightens up her features as she laughs. “Remember the time I fell into the river? You thought I was going to drown.”

“I did.” You definitely remember the inexplicable clench in your chest watching the pre-teen plummet under the unforgiving torrent; the difficulty to breath as you urged your broom to fly faster and poured your magic to freeze the water, and the subsequent sigh when the girl popped her head out of the surface, mostly unharmed.

That day, the girl had learned how to swim, while you had learned to believe in the human’s adaptive ability a bit more (but also to keep a closer eye. Apparently this is something known as a rebellious phase when it’s hard to rein in a growing teen’s behavior).

“But I surprised you, didn’t I? Just wait, I’ll find a way somehow.” Kanan rests the sword against the tree trunk before starting her usual warm-up exercise. She appears ready for another go at this bet.

“But I have already told you… you know what, never mind. You have always been too stubborn to listen.”

The adolescent grins cheekily. You shake your head and stare at her in contemplation.

“What is it that you wish to acquire, anyway? I believe I have already provided anything you need. I have been compliant with your requests, perhaps except for wanting to see the ocean. That should come soon enough, however, for we have journeyed far and should reach the coast-”

“Oh that, yeah, I look forward to it. I like swimming and I’m good at it~ As for what I want as prize for winning the bet, uh...” For some reason the human looks embarrassed then, looking away and rubbing the back of her head. “I think I had something else in mind when I was a kid, but now…”

“But now-?”

“Y-You’ll see!” Kanan’s cheeks are still flushed when she faces you with a determined smile. “Anyway, Dia-san, I’m gonna do some laps and I’ll be back before sunset, okay?”

Though intrigued, you nod at the ponytailed girl and allows her to pull you into her arms. It’s become somewhat of a custom between the two of you, that she would hug you whenever she leaves your side for a while. And every time, there is that rush of warmth that lulls you into a sense of peace. You somewhat miss her childish way of calling you ‘onee-san’, but this is fine as well.

“Do not be late.” You whisper against her ear and chuckle when she hastily pulls away wearing an even deeper blush.

“I won’t!”

You watch the adolescent’s ponytail fluttering behind her as she jogs down the hill, her silhouette becoming smaller and smaller until she could no longer be spotted by your excellent vision.

More and more, you find yourself smiling for no particular reason. You are content from just gazing at her and waiting for her return.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you…”

The ponytailed woman smiles upon meeting your gaze as she hurries towards you. Those expressive amethyst eyes are full of relief and something else, a particular softness that coaxes a smile from you as well.

“You know I do not like crowds, Kanan.”

A light breeze brushes past your long hair, its dark hue almost blending in with the evening sky. Almost. The lights from the summer festival in this seaside town is giving you the illusion of daytime. So full of bustling crowds, lanterns and torches and so much noise! This is definitely the closest you have touched upon a dense human population since the last war.

You do not fear being discovered as the Diamond Witch, not at all. Rumors of your existence should have faded into the sands of time. There are soldiers mingling with the civilians, some local ones and some who had come from other places via ships, but none of them recognize you. In fact, they are more interested in your companion, either attracted by her beauty or her startling strength when they competed in friendly matches.

No, you simply do not like being surrounded by people, that is all. It is only because of Kanan’s plea that you accompany her to the festival in the first place, but there is only so much you could endure.

Here, at this secluded hill that oversees the port, you are finally able to regain your bearings and breathe in clean air in peace.

“Right, sorry about that.” Kanan at least seems apologetic as she sits down beside you. “I hope you did enjoy it, just a little bit?”

“... a bit.” You admit reluctantly. The various snacks sold at the stalls and the simple arcades were refreshing for you, never having experienced such human activities before. After all, you have never ventured this far into their world and would have never done so if Kanan wasn’t with you.

Indeed, you had fun, and fun hadn’t been a frequent emotion in your long life.

“I’m glad to hear that!” Even at a quarter-century of age, the woman’s smile still holds that childish edge and guileless warmth much like when you first found her.

“Why are you here though? Shouldn’t you be with your friends?”

You know for a fact that Kanan has settled down into this seaside town quite well and has made many friends, even with the out-of-towners who frequent by ships. Though her swordsmanship is just as good as a Knight’s, she chooses to live a humble life as a fisherman. Now as an independent adult, she is making an honest living here while you still live like a recluse in a hut within the forest. She visits you often enough, but it just isn’t the same anymore.

Many times, you have wondered if you should just let her be and continue with your wandering. At the end of the day, Kanan is a human and should be with her kind.

Who are you to stop her?

“The festival’s great and all, but I’d rather spend time with you,” Kanan laughs sheepishly and scoots closer to you. “When was the last time we just watch the stars together, just the two of us, just like old times?”

“... indeed, it has been long.”

Neither of you speak for a while, content with each other’s presence close by and enjoying the tranquil atmosphere blessed by the night. It takes you a few moments to notice Kanan’s hand covering yours, but you do nothing to reject such contact. In fact, the warmth from the contact is pleasant and welcomed.

“Perhaps it is time that we part ways.”

Startled, she squeezes your hand and places her other hand on your shoulder so you would face her. “W-Why do you say that? You don’t want me around anymore?”

“No, that is not it. It is… simply time that we move on. You have your own life, while I-”

“I don’t understand. I-I want you to be in my life.” She shakes her head vehemently. “You are my world, Dia.”

You are unprepared for the slight quickening of your heartbeat when Kanan’s warm hand cups your cheek. The way she utters your name also sends an odd tingle down your body, and you find yourself lost in those beautiful amethyst eyes.

“Remember the bet?

“I do.”

“If I win, you’ll have to stay with me,” Kanan’s firm voice leaves no room for argument. You lean against her hand when her thumb whimsically caresses your cheek.

“Certainly, but you have never been able to land a hit on me, have you?”

“That’s…” She drops her gaze. “I don’t want to hurt you… but really, you have no weak point. No matter what I do, I can’t get past your shield.”

“But you are touching me right now, are you not?” Suddenly, you no longer care about anything else in the world. All those centuries of knowledge and self-preservation become nothing but a muffled whisper as you divulge your one secret to the precious human in your life. “Any time you touch me or hug me, my shield is never activated.”

“E-Eh?” Kanan doesn’t seem to understand your words, so you elaborate for her with a small smile.

“If you hold a knife while hugging me, you could easily stab me in the back-”

“Don’t joke about stuff like that!” Kanan recoils away, and you fleetingly lament on the loss of contact. “I would never do that to you!”

“It is your only chance.” You tilts her chin so she would look at you instead of down at her lap. “It is the only way to get past my defense.”

“I will not do it. I’ll find some other way to get you to stay. With me.”

Kanan leans close and gently presses her lips against your own. The rush of heat is like nothing you have ever experienced before. Through this chaste kiss, you could feel both her determination to convince you as well as her uncertainty at such an intimate gesture. Most of all, however, you could feel the missing piece between the two of you.

This is love, is it not? The emotion that drives humans, that makes them protective of one another and allows them to thrive even under unfavorable circumstances.

You did not understand love but you are starting to. You close your eyes and smile into the kiss as Kanan’s arms wrap securely around you. Her embrace makes you feel more invincible than any magic ever did, and you allow yourself to relax and melt against her.

The blissful daze is suddenly shattered by the whistling of something piercing through the air. One moment Kanan is hugging you, the next she has shoved you down and covered you with her body. There are several muffled sounds, and a pained cry escapes her gritted teeth.

Stunned, you could only lie there and stare at the many arrows embedded in Kanan’s back. The clamoring of metal and frantic footsteps of strangers soon enter the surrounding but you could barely pay them any heed. All you could feel is the hot liquid soaking through her shirt and staining your dress.

Her breathing is shallow, alarmingly so, and blood is trickling down her chin. You grasp desperately for those arrows, aiming to heal her wounds as soon as you yank those out but deep down, you know it is already too late.

“Dia… “ She gasps weakly, her voice barely audible beside her ear. “I…”

You do not understand why she is smiling at you.

And you never will.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

“Are you here to visit Kanan-chan too?”

You nod solemnly at the young woman holding flowers, vaguely recognizing her as one of Kanan’s friends from the town. With your face covered in veil, it is easy to blend in with the rest of people coming to mourn for Kanan’s death.

The Knights, who had come all the way from the other side of the Continent, talked about the Diamond Witch and how dangerous she was. The folks from the seaside town would have none of it, enraged by the murder of a beloved resident. Against the might of the united people, the few troops had no chance and they were soon banished.

With the outsiders gone, the locals had fallen into a forlorn trance as they prepared for Kanan’s burial. They think she would have liked being close to the sea, and you approve of their decision to rest her on the very hill when she had hugged you for the last time.

You reach out to touch the tombstone, its surface cold and foreign, so unlike the spirited woman you once knew. You could still feel the phantom brush of her lips against yours, and the heat from those beautiful amethyst eyes. Her voice, ranging from bubbly young to tenderly mature, speaks of a bet made long ago, and you find yourself on your knees as the words repeat in your mind.

There is terrible pain in your heart, a wound invisible to naked eyes and impervious to any healing spells you know. You clutch at your chest as you rest your forehead against the tombstone, an unfamiliar wetness leaking from your eyes onto the stone surface.

“You won the bet, Kanan.”

[cianmars]

If they had a kid meme: If Red Snowing in the "Three's Not A Crowd Verse" had a second baby? (Or more) :)

Ooo I shockingly haven’t actually thought about this one… (Putting this under a read more as lets be honest the Charming brood is massive) 

From THIS verse (if you haven’t read it you might not understand the dynamics between Em and her parents)

After the curse broke they find that the adults age very very slowly, like the magic is trying to make up for them losing so much time. People still celebrate birthdays but as soon as they hit 21 their body slows down its ageing. Because of the curse Emma doesn’t age at all for the next 28 years, Emma is obviously pissed off that her siblings surpass her in age (they were all  more mature than her since they were like 10) but there’s nothing they can do about it so she has to get used to it.A year after the curse broke there’s two kids who desperately need to be fostered, they aren’t sure if Emma’s ready for it, but the kids need their help so they take them in intending to keep them for a couple of weeks. They have werewolf genes (like a quarter wolf) so Ruby was asked to look after them as a precaution (there’s still some wolf prejudice from the residents). They become quite attached to these kids and Emma clearly loves them (though she still acts out sometimes) so they continue fostering them and eventually adopt them.

Name: Emma Ruth Charming (20) 

Gender:  Female

General Appearance: Very much a tomboy, she could live in pyjamas if she could, but when she’s not wearing them she wears comfy clothes mostly plaid shirts, beanies, jeans, sweats whenever she can. She’d rather die than wear a dress or anything pink. She’s barely 5 foot tall (she often whines about people in her family moving things up onto high shelves).

Personality: She’s very young for her age because of her past and because of the curse, she’s a complete troublemaker, mostly because she tries to prove she’s mature and that she doesn’t need to be looked after by her parents but as often proved she does. She’s stubborn, impulsive, a spitfire, and has her father’s tact - but she’s also kind, funny, and good.

Special Talents: She has strong magic but it’s extremely temperamental. 

Who they like better: She adores all three of her parents and has a special connection to each other them… that being said she’s a complete daddy’s girl.

Who they take after more: She’s the perfect mix of all three of her parents, but personality and looks wise she’s a little bit more David than her mothers. 

Personal Head canon: - She’s immature and childish, she acts more like a 6/7 year old than an adult, it’s not her fault it’s down to her childhood and the curse, but she has a hard time accepting that. When Cassie and Zac first move in she tries to hide it but they show her they don’t care after Ruby, Snow, and David explain it to them.- She almost always ends up sleeping in her parents bed, along with her blanket and the teddies her parents got her, it’s a good thing that her parents had a huge bed.- She’s always cold and hoards blankets, especially when she’s sick, her parents have to stop her wrapping like 8 fleece blankets around herself as she’ll overheat.-She’s a very fast runner.- She acts out a lot when her parents tell her that they have to move to a bigger place, her siblings and parents eventually help her to get used to them having to move to a house, but a small part of her will always miss her first home. Face Claim: Britt Robertson

Name: Cassidy Emily Charming (Cassie or Cas)

Gender: Female

General Appearance: She looks very much like Ruby despite not being her biological daughter, she’s also got a similar style to Ruby, she’s pretty good at keeping up to date with fashion but can often be found in tanks and sweats when lounging around or after cheer practice. She has dark brown hair and brown eyes with flecks of gold in her irises. 


Personality: She’s one of those popular girls at high school, who everyone assumes would be a massive bitch, but she’s actually one of the nicest people ever, she sticks up for people and really cares about her studies. She is fierce, she had grown up basically raising her brother so she had to be, but she’s completely mellowed out from when she first moved in with her family. She tends to not lose her temper often, she prefers to find logical solutions to problems rather than just complaining, but once in a blue moon she will completely lose it. She’s the queen of sarcastic retorts.


Special Talents: She’s a quarter wolf which means that she turns every other new moon rather than every full moon. She’s really good at gymnastics.


Who they like better: She works in Granny’s sometimes at the weekend (she’s the one who always sneaks Emma sugar filled treats to make her hyper before going out and leaving her parents with the consequences) so she gets along well with Ruby, they’re both similar temperaments and very rarely clash. She wasn’t used to having a dad so was awkward around David at first but she has him wrapped around her finger. She admires Snow’s personality and morals, she’s only admitted it out loud a few times but she’s her inspiration and she hopes to be like her.


Who they take after more: Ruby’s absolute double, just slightly more sarcastic, her family always joke that she’s secretly their biological daughter and in a few more teary moments she admitted that she wished that they really were her birth parents.


Personal Head canon:
 - She was 17 when she was officially adopted by her parents, she at first thought she was way too old to be adopted or to need parents but she quickly got used to being able to just being a teenager. - She and Zac were looked after by their grandmother in the Enchanted Forest and during the curse, she died a year after the curse broke, this is when the Charmings started fostering her and her brother, before they adopted them.- She’s very academic and has high aspirations to go to the nearby college to become a teacher like her mom.- When she was 17 she realised that she was in love with her best friend, like Love with a capital L, they eventually started to date and she realised that she’s a lesbian and that’s why none of her relationships with boyfriends felt right.- She’s very maternal and protective of all of her sibling, especially Zac and Emma.

Face Claim: Samantha Boscarino

Name: Zachary Stephen Charming (Zac)


Gender: Male


General Appearance: He tends to favour a t-shirt, jeans, and his football letterman jacket (pretty sure that’s what they’re called). The rest of the time he wears the leather jacket his parents got him for the first Christmas he was with them. He runs hot so used to wear shorts even in the snow until Cassie started saying “We get it, you’re straight” every time he did it so he stopped and dressed weather appropriately. He goes between having his brown hair fairly short and letting it grow a bit, he normally just swoops it to the side and it looks good. He has hazel eyes.


Personality: He’s really mellow and chill, he’s kind and fairly quiet in crowds of people he doesn’t know but it outgoing with his friends and family, he is a bit of a class clown. He’s kind hearted and tries to bond with his siblings in anyway they like best - letting Cassie style clothes on him or paint his portrait for art class, he plays with Emma and her toys without making her seem embarrassed over it, he lets Neal give rambling reviews on books to him and convincingly pretends he’s interested, and he helps Cole with his science experiments (which have been banned because they’ve made things explode 8 times). He’s protective of his friends and family, especially his younger siblings (Emma especially) Always wanting to please his parents despite them telling him that as long as he’s happy and safe then they’re happy.


Special Talents: He’s a quarter wolf which means that she turns every other new moon rather than every full moon. Very talented footballer and learnt how to sail from Eric. 


Who they like better: He tends to gravitate most to David, who teaches him loads of different things, they even fix up a car for Zac together.


Who they take after more: He’s very much like David personality wise, with Snow’s constant positive attitude, he looks as though he could be Ruby and David’s biological child.


Personal Head canon:
- He was the first one out of him and Cassie who could make Emma come out of her shell when they moved in there, when he was 15, he just started to play with her action figures until she joined in.- He’s an early bird, a trait which annoys half of his family to no end, and will often wake up with only Snow already awake, he takes the time to go for runs while the town is quiet.- He knows how to play the drums.-School’s a little bit harder for him than it is for his siblings, that being said he’s normally a B+ student as he’s not afraid to ask his mom for help with things he struggles with. - He’s pretty good at maths and physics and he claims it helps him with his football.

Face Claim: Froy Gutierrez

Name: Neal Robert Charming


Gender: Male


General Appearance: He wears comfy clothes, hoodies and t-shirts normally with skinny jeans or a sweatshirt, pretty much anything he can comfortably read in (he’s often found curled up with several books in the window seats around the house). He has dark brown hair and blue eyes, his hair is general a mop until he started to become more interested in boys and styled it more (he asks Cassie for advice on what to wear and how to do his hair as he’s nervous). 


Personality: He’s the quietest of the five kids, but that doesn’t mean that he’s necessarily shy, he just often gets caught in his head or caught in a book. Otherwise he’s funny and very intelligent, after getting up his confidence he eventually becomes very good at speaking in front of people after several speeches in school. He’s a natural leader when he speaks up about issues. He’s very mature and responsible for his age. He can be very sarcastic. 


Special Talents: He has magic, but he doesn’t bother to use it very often, he has a special affinity for water magic.


Who they like better: He’s a bit of a mommy’s boy, Snow seems to always have  a very calming presence so he tends to stick around her the most. 


Who they take after more: He’s very much like Snow but with David’s chill disposition. 


Personal Head canon:
 - He knew that he was gay from a very young age, by the time he was 6 he had announced that he would marry a prince not a princess (his sisters are both queer as are all his parents so no one batted an eyelid at him telling them that). - He can bake pretty well, his mama taught him, he often bakes cakes and brownies for the household. He and Ruby tend to catch up while baking. - He prefers healthy food like vegetables and fruit over things with sugar in them (he and Emma could not be more different)- His brother tried to teach him how to play football but he was terrible at it, he just watches games because he has a crush on one of the guys. He’s on the swim team and was very surprised to one day find his crush had started attending his swim meets. (he eventually has the courage to ask his crush out who turns out to have a crush on him too)  - He loves books, he has a million books and reads to Emma all the ones he thinks she’d like, when he leaves high school he goes to study Literature at Yale, he becomes an author like August and Henry. 

Face Claim: Logan Lerman 

Name: Cole Jacob Charming (CJ)


Gender: Male 


General Appearance: Whatever he throws on after finding it lying around on the floor of his room


Personality: He deeply values his privacy and hides a lot of things from his parents, like Neal he’s often in his own head and people in the town think he might become a villain but this is because he’s scheming or planning to build things to help people. He’s quite and kind at heart, he hides problems he has until he has no chance other than to reveal them like when his mom walked on him having an anxiety attack (before which he had hid them completely). He’s secretly very funny, a bit of a trickster, with a sardonic sense of humour. His sarcasm and sass could give anyone a run for their money.


Special Talents: He’s the only one of their biological children to have both magic and werewolf genes but he chooses not to use them most of the time, he says that he prefers science over magic, his mama gives him a bracelet 


Who they like better:


Who they take after more: He looks like his two mother but with his father’s blue eyes. He is fairly quick tempered in certain situations which he also gets from his father. 


Personal Head canon:
- He’s a genius, particularly in science, he’s always coming up with robots or mixing chemicals together or something in his room. - He and Emma are the troublemakers in the house, Cole often enlists Emma to help him pull pranks of people, despite constantly being told not to try and convince Emma to do so.-Only his family call him Cole, most people call him CJ or Cee, he doesn’t speak to anyone outside of his family who tries to call him Cole.- His middle name was his great grandfather’s name, when Ruby told Granny she cried, Granny claims that he gets his brains from her husband too.-He’s pansexual and has been dating someone for over a year without his family knowing, the first one to know was Emma as he introduced her to them, he eventually told his parents who were shocked but welcoming to his partner.- He and Emma were together when she was injured by George, she became deaf in one ear, Cole worked tirelessly and in secret to make a hearing aid which would work best for her giving her almost her old hearing range back, he used a little bit of magic for the first time in one of his inventions. 

Face Claim: Asa Butterfield

[allonsysilvertongue]

Summer Nights

Summary: At six year old, Effie Trinket was convinced that the eight year old boy with dirty blonde hair who often jostled her roughly when her mother was not looking and made her run after him in the summer heat was the best friend she needed. The same could not be said for Haymitch Abernathy.

Hello everyone, this is a hayffie au. I have done a gifset many many years ago of Haymitch and Effie knowing each other from a young age but I never did write it until this idea popped into my head about a week back. I know it sounds odd but I hope you'll give it a chance, and we can have a chill ride with the story.

Anyway, hy headcanon has always been that Effie's always six years younger than Haymitch but for this story, I have decided to shorten the age gap otherwise it'll be just creepy and I have also scaled down some timelines.

Chapter 1 – What’s the deal, Mr. and Mrs. Trinket?

Haymitch Abernathy stood by the porch, watching the car drive into the compound. As it made a turn to park, the young girl caught sight of him. Her face bloomed into a smile and she waved enthusiastically through the window.

He waved back with a grin, one hand still clutching on to his younger brother.

Next to him, his mother stood tall, dutifully waiting for the guests’ arrival.

“Hello,” Effie Trinket walked up to them.

At six year old, Effie Trinket was convinced that the eight year old boy with dirty blonde hair who often jostled her roughly when her mother was not looking and made her run after him in the summer heat was the best friend she needed. Everyone has a best friend so she was entitled to one too.

On her eighth birthday, he was still her best friend despite having already made other friends in school. It was just so unfortunate that he lived so far away and they only get to meet during the summer.

When Effie turned nine and her family made the trip down to the other end of the country where Haymitch stayed, he gave her a box. In it was a bracelet made from macaroni shells he had sneaked from the kitchen and painted over the winter.

“My birthday is over,” she told him.

“I know,” he said. “But I don’t get to see you until summer so there.”

She kept it safe in her nightstand drawer back home, too afraid to wear something so fragile lest she broke it.

At that age, Haymitch was her only male friend. It meant none of her other friends in school believed she had a friend of the opposite gender since they had never meet or seen him before. It made her mad when they started referring to Haymitch as her imaginary friend. He was as real as them, but so be it. Perhaps it was better that they had never and would never meet him. He was dear to her and the last thing she wanted was to have anyone coming to steal her best friend away like they had taken Valeria from her.

Haymitch on the other hand was quite well known in the district and had friends everywhere – girls and boys alike. He made the effort to introduce her to some of them if they happened to come around to the Village when she was there. Sometimes she was scared that he would rather spend his summer with them but he was always there to accompany her.

By the time Effie turned eleven, she thought that the now thirteen year old Haymitch Abernathy was the handsomest boy she ever met, a little rude lately but still very handsome.

“Hey, Effie,” he winked in her direction.

Rude, she thought, for him to take the liberty of using that moniker that only her grandmother called her by and only when they were alone together.

She had told him that fact one night under the startling brightness of the stars and he had declared it to be much better than Euphemia.

“Good morning, Haymitch,” she greeted him by his given name because she knew that he detest being called ‘Mitch’ and while she could have easily just call him by that to irritate him, she was fortunately raised with impeccable manners.

Haymitch flopped down on the seat next to her, immediately reaching out for the chocolate croissant he was so fond of.

“Now children,” Lysandra Trinket addressed them and from the corner of Effie’s eyes, she could see Haymitch wrinkled his nose at being called a child. “What are you both planning on doing today? Do tell so I may arrange my day accordingly…. Haymitch? I do hope you will have something interesting for my daughter today.”

That usually meant that her mother would rather have Effie’s day occupied so she would not be bothered for the rest of the day. Effie didn’t mind it that much. Haymitch was often very good at keeping her busy from morning till dinner.

Effie turned towards Haymitch expectantly. He paused in the middle of taking a bite from his half eaten croissant.

“What do you wanna do?” he asked.

“It is a hot day, isn’t it….? Swimming will be fun.”

There was a laugh threatening to burst from that annoying grin on his face that Effie was quick to get a word in before he could speak.

“I have had swimming lessons so I will not be drowning. Father made sure,” Effie huffed.

He smirked in her direction.

“Sure,” Haymitch said with a chuckle, clearly remembering the incident last summer when she had waded into the deeper end of the pool after he issued a challenge and nearly drowned. “We’ll swim.”

It was only half past ten in the morning and already, the sun was beating down on them. She already felt sticky under her armpits from the sweat. It was disturbing to know just how much she could perspire by just having breakfast outdoor.

Effie grew restless waiting for Haymitch who had disappeared right after breakfast claiming he had some homework to do. From her experience, he knew he was likely doing homework for his friends. She could never understand why he would allow his friends to pile their homework on him but when she had asked once, he said he had his reasons.

“What time are we going swimming?” she asked, opening the door to his room.

“Later,” he answered without even looking at her.

She huffed in annoyance. “When is later? It is so very rude of you to just keep me waiting…”

The only reason Effie indulged her parents in this annual summer trip all the way in this sleepy, quiet coal mining district was because of Haymitch Abernathy. Her father’s reason was solely for business while her mother, as advised by her therapist, needed the quiet reprieved every once in a while from the city and the media for all the fame attached to her name. Otherwise, Effie highly doubted that Lysandra Trinket would even agree to spend her summer here.

“Ten minutes,” he answered curtly.

Without an invitation and because she knew Haymitch wouldn’t mind, Effie sat perched on the edge of his bed. He was hunched over the small study table, scribbling on a note book.

With an impatient sighed, she flopped down on the bed unceremoniously. It earned her an amused glance from him.

“Don’t let your mother see you,” he commented, turning back to his work.

“Work faster then, before my mother catches me like this. Ladies do not behave this way and you will be sure that I will blame it on you.”

He frowned but otherwise did not respond. He hardly ever did when she pulled that card on him. At that age, she barely gave it much thought, simply assuming that like everyone else, he was afraid and wary of her mother.

“When I see you again next year, you will already be starting high school,” she remarked, staring up at the white painted ceiling. “Will you be working at the mines? Father said you will eventually.”

He stiffened, his pen poised in mid-air.

“Not yet.”

His answer was curt and his tone warned her not to pursue the topic any further.

It was odd, she thought. He didn’t seem proud of the mines like she figured he would be.

Why wouldn’t he be proud of the coal mines?

His great-grandfather who was amongst the first generations to settle in this district town years earlier had sold a large hectare of land to the Trinkets. The land was turned into a coal mine managed solely by her family.

The mine was what gave this town their livelihood and since it was his family’s contribution, Effie, without truly understanding the full history, thought that it was something he should be proud of.

Back in the city, in the Trinkets’ mansion, her father always talked about the Abernathys as if they worked for him but whenever summer came around and they took a vacation in the Abernathy’s house - a house that Haymitch’s great-grandfather received as part of the land deal - her parents often treated his family as though they were friends.  Her parents’ dual behavior confused her greatly but adults, in general, were confusing. All she knew was that Haymitch is her friend and she is his, which was why she was willing to wait for him.

Effie Trinket hardly ever sat around idly waiting for people.

“Alright, come on,” he declared finally.

He grabbed the towel that was hanging around the bed post and waited until she left his room before he closed the door.

The pool was small by Effie’s standard – a grown man could only complete five broad strokes before reaching the end, which was admittedly deep as she discovered the year before. She had seen more impressive pools in the city, in other mansions and apartment buildings. When she had asked her father about the Abernathy’s pool, Stephen Trinket had scoffed derisively and claimed that they were lucky to have it in the first place. Her own grandfather, Matias Trinket, had commissioned the pool to be made for the Abernathys as a New Year gift one year when the coal mine brought in profit above the expected margin.

Of course, she had then asked Haymitch about it but he waved her question away. At times, his reaction to her questions made her form the impression that he didn’t quite like this house that his family got from hers, and she could never understand the reason for it.

“So you only learn to hold your breath and float around like a hippo?” he snorted after watching her for a few minutes.

“Do not be rude!” she snapped.

They tended to get into stupid arguments simply because he was overly frustrating and rude. She wondered if thirteen year old boys all behave like jerks.

“I’ll show you,” she turned her nose at him and proceeded to do a few breast strokes and back strokes.

He mockingly gave her a standing ovation complete with an overdramatic bow before he settled down at the spot on the grass where two overlapping tree branches provided him some shade.

“You said you’ll swim with me,” she pouted.

“I swam with you,” he replied without taking his eyes off his book. “Now I’m reading. Shush.”

“You are so boring. Really, what is so interesting about the book?”

“I’ll find out if you let me read but it’ll still be more interesting than watching you swim,” he quipped easily.

Effie ignored him after that. She practiced her moves and when she needed to catch a breath, she ended up watching him. Haymitch was on his stomach, half-naked except for the shorts he wore to swim. The sun had long dried his skin but his hair was still damp, making it looked darker than normal. Once in a while, his finger would turn a page from his book and depending on what he was reading, his brows would crease slightly as he concentrated.

“Why are you staring at me?”

She blinked.

“I wasn’t,” she denied and promptly disappeared under the water.

When she emerged, he was standing at the edge of the pool looking down at her. She didn’t realised he had grown this tall until now when she had to tilt her head back to look at him.

“I have to go to town. Get some things for mama for dinner.”

“I will go as well,” she said without missing a beat. “I do not want to be left alone. What would I do?”

By the time that summer ended, Effie’s skin had a healthy tan to it, she had gotten so much better at holding her breath under water and the one thing she was most proud of was that Lief, Haymitch’s baby brother, no longer cried when she held him.

“See you next year, Effs,” Haymitch said.

She hugged him tightly.

“I’ll miss you,” she whispered into his shoulder. “I am already counting down for summer next year.”

He released her with a smile.

Effie got into the car that would bring her family to the train station back to the city, feeling a little forlorn that time seemed to have fly past. She gave a final wave to Haymitch, his brother and his parents. They were standing in front of the wrought iron gates at the entrance of the village and as the car continued to travel, Haymitch and his family became smaller and smaller before they eventually disappeared from her line of sight when the car rounded the bend.

“You had a word with them, did you not?” her mother spoke.

Effie raised her head, thinking it was her that her mother was addressing.

“Of course,” Stephen nodded.

With that, Effie went back to staring out of the window, her hands folded nicely on her lap. The train journey back was the least favourite part of her summer.

“I made it clear that we will not provide any further finances to the mine than what we already have,” her father continued. “They are to make it safe for the coming inspection.”

“What about production?”

“I have explained that it should be maintained and if targets are not met, there will be consequences.”

Her mother laughed a little that and Effie cringed at the pitch.

“That would explain why Lachlan did not look particularly happy the past two days,” Lysandra commented.

“Be that as it may,” her father replied nonchalantly. “He has two sons to feed and put through school, and an entire town depending on him for their livelihood. He will come through.”

As curious as Effie was, her mother had always told her not to poke her nose into other people’s business, especially theirs. Whatever it was between her parents and Haymitch’s parents was their problem, not hers nor Haymitch.

[meganlpie]

The Governess

Anonymous asked: Meg! I love your blog and I know you love AUs and Classic literature so I was wondering if you could write a Loki x fem!reader based on Jane Eyre??? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!

Here you are, lovely! This thing took on a life of its own to be honest. I do not own Loki, Natasha, or Tony. They belong to Marvel.

Warnings: Some angst, some fluff, a little jealousy, Movie/book based AU, and it’s long! Probably the longest one-shot I’ve written. 

Pairings: Loki x fem!reader, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark. 

The beautiful manor of your new employer came into view and you drew in a breath.  It was beautiful. The falling leaves all around the place only added to its charm. You knew you had to take it in while you could because once you entered the manor, you would have to put on your professional attitude. You were there for a job after all. To be a governess to the ward of the owner of the estate.

           Your carriage stopped and you took a deep breath. Were you ready for this? This was your first real job. Your previous employment had been through the boarding school you’d grown up in. You knew everyone there before you even began working, This was uncharted territory. However, whether you were ready or not, it was time. You climbed down from the carriage and the door of the manor immediately opened.

           "You must be the new governess!“ an older woman greeted, descending the stairs. You smiled at her. "I am.” The woman smiled and offered a hand. “I’m Mrs. Wilson. The housekeeper. Mr. Laufeyson isn’t at home as of yet, but he instructed me to get you settled and to introduce you to your charge. Come along.” Without giving you a chance to reply, Mrs. Wilson turned on her heel and practically skipped up the steps.

           Once inside, Mrs. Wilson ordered one of the kitchen maids to bring you some tea. You were grateful. Autumn was upon you and the weather was beginning to turn cold. When you were both situated, Mrs. Wilson sent for your charge. You felt your excitement spike and hoped you would be able to not only teach the girl, but to also get along well with her.

           The little girl, no more than seven, came barreling into the room a few moments later.  "Ah, Rose, there you are. It is time to meet your new governess. This is Miss Y/L/N.“ Rose smiled up at you. "Hello, Miss Y/L/N,” she greeted with a slightly clumsy curtsy. “Good evening, Rose. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

           Time passed quickly and yet slowly at the same time. Before you knew it, weeks had passed. Your days were full, although sometimes lonely. Rose was a very bright, albeit excitable child. She took to her lessons well, but you sometimes had to remind her to focus. Whenever she heard any kind of commotion, she would be at the window in her small classroom.

           You thoroughly enjoyed your position, but you craved adult conversation. Mrs. Wilson was the only other adult in the manor that seemed to have time to talk to you, but she had her own schedule to keep. And you had yet to meet your employer. He had not returned from his business trip, much to your dismay.

           Mr. Laufeyson was a mystery to you. The employees really didn’t talk much about him. They only said that he was a generous employer if you did your job well. And that he would often be gone for weeks at a time, like now. You were getting more excited to meet him by the day, but you never expected to meet him the way you did.

           Rose had music lessons three days a week and, during those lessons, you had time to yourself. While Rose practiced, you chose to explore the land you were living on. One day, you were out walking when you were approached by a rather large dog. The dog ran laps around your skirts before taking off in the opposite direction. Curious, you followed the beast and found exactly what he wanted you to.

           Sitting on the side of the dirt road, was probably one of the most beautifully handsome men you’d ever seen. He had hair as black as a raven that fell slightly in his stunning green eyes. Even though he was sitting, you could tell he was a tall man. Tall and lean. He whistled to the dog before finally looking up at you.

           "Are you alright?“ you asked as you took a step closer to him. The man assured you that he was. "Of course. A fox spooked my horse and she threw me. I have merely twisted my ankle. It is nothing for you to worry about, Miss.” As a teacher and now governess, you had learned to spot when someone was not telling you the truth. And this man was definitely not being honest about how much pain he was in.  

           "Are you certain you don’t require assistance?“ He let his eyes linger on yours for a moment. "I said I was fine,” he snapped softly. You rolled your eyes. “Very well. If you are not in need of help, then I shall leave. I need to return anyway.” You picked up your skirts and turned away.

           You barely made it ten steps before the mystery man called out to you. You smirked to yourself, but hid the expression quickly as you glanced back at him. “It is possible that I do require your assistance.” You shook your head at his stubbornness, but walked back to him. “Thank you, Miss. If you could just get me over to my horse, I can get to my destination.” You helped him over and onto the horse and he rode off, the dog following behind.

           Shaking your head again, you glanced down at your pocket watch. Your eyes widened. You were going to be late. You picked up your skirts once more and ran back to the manor. Once inside the gates, you slowed, smoothed out your hair and skirts and walked back in. It wouldn’t do for Rose to see you so disheveled. You didn’t realize that there were more important opinions at stake.

           As soon as you entered the house, Rose was at your side. “Miss Y/L/N! You’ll never guess what happened! Papa is home!” You smiled down at her. “That is wonderful, Rose, but we mustn’t shout.” Rose’s face screwed up in an expression that told you she didn’t appreciate the scolding. She didn’t respond though. Instead, she grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the parlor.

           You stopped short in the doorway. There, sitting somewhat comfortably on the chaise, was the mystery man from before. “Ah, Miss Y/L/N. We meet again.” You simply stared for a moment, knowing full well that you probably looked like an idiot. Not exactly the best first impression to give your employer. You cleared your throat and curtsied slightly. “Mr. Laufeyson.”  

*time skip*

           Mr. Laufeyson was as mysterious as they said. One moment, he would be happily smiling with Rose and the next, he would make up some reason to leave the room or sometimes even the manor. His demeanor toward you was even more confusing.

           Sometimes, he would treat you as an employer should treat a governess. Other times, he would sit and have long conversations with you, talking and laughing as if you were friends. Those conversations were the highlight of your days. They made you feel something you hadn’t felt before.

           Often, you would look up to find him staring at you even though he was listening to Rose chatter away. Truth be told, you would often stare at him as well. At least when he was home. There were several instances where he would disappear for weeks at a time. The point was that you never knew where you stood with him. Well, not until the night he returned from a trip and decided to throw a random dinner party.

           The house was soon full of people you did not know, but luckily, you had only to keep an eye on Rose. That is, until Mr. Laufeyson came to you insisting that you and Rose dress appropriately and join them. It was there that you truly realized your growing feelings for the mysterious man that was Loki Laufeyson.

           You walked in with Rose, who immediately ran over to her guardian, despite your scolding her not to run. You shook your head and sat down just in time to see a beautiful woman with red hair appear next to your employer. She wrapped an arm around his and smiled coyly at him.

           "Isn’t she lovely?“ a voice next to you asked. You turned your head. A man with short brown hair and dark eyes sat at the table next to you. You nodded. "She is.” Next to her, you felt plain. “Who is she?” The man laughed lightly. “Natasha Romanoff. Although, if rumors are to be believed, she is to be Mrs. Laufeyson sooner rather than later.”

           You fought to keep your expression neutral. “Oh?” The man nodded. “Yes. But that’s only if the rumors are true. The two have been seen together more and more often lately. Whenever he has a chance to visit. Everyone swears they’ll hear wedding bells ringing soon.” You didn’t reply. That explained so much. Why Mr. Laufeyson always seemed happier after a trip away from the manor. Why he looked at you like he was didn’t know what to do. If he did in fact marry Natasha, there would be no need for a governess anymore. Rose would have a mother figure in her life after that.

           You rose from your seat and smiled at your companion. “I think it is time for Rose to retire. Thank you for the informative conversation Mr…” He stood and smiled. “Stark. Anthony Stark.” After introducing yourself, you bowed your head at him and turned from the table. Keeping yourself calm, you walked over to where Rose was standing with Mr. Laufeyson. “Forgive the intrusion, but it is time for Rose to retire for the night. She has an early lesson in the morning.”

           Mr. Laufeyson nodded. “Once you have put her to bed, return to the festivities, Miss Y/L/N.” It was an order, but one you were not going to follow. “Forgive me, Mr. Laufeyson, but I would rather not. Come along, Rose.” Rose reluctantly took your hand and let you lead her from the room. You could feel Mr. Laufeyson’s eyes on you the entire time.

           After you put Rose to bed, you rested against the wall outside her room. You couldn’t explain the pang of jealousy coursing through you. You had no right to feel this way. After all, he was your employer. Nothing more, no matter how much you wished otherwise.

           "You ignored a direct order.“ You jumped at the sound of Mr. Laufeyson’s voice. You looked at him with a glare. "I am not an animal you can order around, sir. I am a human being, even if am simply a governess, and I will not be bullied into doing something I do not wish to do. Perhaps you should return to your party and allow me to retire in peace. I am certain Miss Romanoff is missing your company.”

           "Miss Romanoff will survive without my company for a few moments,“ he said simply. He took a step closer to you. "I wish for you to return to the festivities with me.” You shook your head. “Goodnight, Mr. Laufeyson.” He let out a low groan. “Must you defy me at every turn? Must you be so stubborn? Need I worry about Rose developing a defiant streak?”

           "I assume you won’t have to worry about that much longer.“ His brows drew together in confusion. "Why would you assume that?” You chuckled and moved away from Rose’s room. You didn’t want to keep her awake. “There is quite the buzz around you and Miss Romanoff. If what they are saying is true, then you will not be needing a governess for much longer.”

           You turned to walk away from him, but his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist lightly. “Miss Y/L/N,” he whispered, “I would not dream of taking you away from Rose. As for me and Miss Romanoff, there is no need for your jealousy.” Your eyes narrowed at him. “I am not jealous, Mr. Laufeyson.”

           "Then stay. Do not let rumors push you out of Rose’s life.“ You gazed up into his eyes. They were boring into your soul. He was testing you. ” No. I can’t.“  Loki let go of your wrist and slowly moved his hand up to settled on your cheek. "Please? For Rose’s sake?” You shook your head. “No. I love Rose, but no.”

           You could feel your resolve weakening the longer he looked at you. The longer his hand was on your face. “And if I were to tell you that I have no intention of marrying Miss Romanoff? Would you remain with us? With me?” You heartbeat quickened and you felt the blood rush to your face. He wanted you to stay with him? Not just for Rose?

           "Why?“ you asked softly. He moved a little closer to you. "Why what? Why do I wish for you to stay? Because you bring something to the manor I didn’t think possible. You brought life back into this place. Life and light. And joy. And love. You brought everything I could not bring for Rose after her parents died. Besides, if you left, who would challenge me? Who would make me look at life differently? I need that in my life. I need you, Y/N.”

           Those were words you never thought you’d ever hear. Not from him nor anyone else. You didn’t think you were worthy of such passion, especially not from him. After all, a governess with no dowry doesn’t exactly have prospects lining up outside her door. Yet, here he was. Your employer was practically begging you to stay with him because he needed you. The question was, did he love you? You wouldn’t be able to stay for anything less than the passionate love you somehow knew he was capable of.

           As if reading your mind, he leaned down and rested his forehead on yours. “Please, Y/N. Don’t leave me. I cannot imagine facing this world without you by my side. I love you and only you.” He now had both hands on your face and his green eyes were pleading with you to understand, to believe him. To love him. “Mr. L-,” you started, but cut yourself off, “Loki. Don’t say it if you don’t mean it. My heart can’t take it.”

           He pulled back slightly so he could see all of your face. “I mean every word, Y/N. I have never loved a woman more and I am certain I never will again. Let me love you, my darling.” You fought back a sniffle as you nodded. That was all Loki needed to throw decorum out the window. Standing there, in the middle of the darkening corridor, Loki leaned in and kissed you, slowly and gently. Murmurs of “I love you” echoed through the empty space as he kissed you with all the sweet passion he could muster.

(a/n: I really hope you like it!)

Tagging: @brewsthespirit-blog @fairytalesexistxx @jotink78 @gameofwinters @iwillbeinmynest @thomashiddlestonloveloki @elriviel