#but she told me to go see it without her and that she would feel worse if she made me miss it so she was very selfless

[thewritingfairy]

↪ 15. The beginning of the end

PREV PART trigger warnings: (threatened) violence, (past, kinda) medical + physical + emotional neglect, mentions of drugging, anger, the start of yandere behaviour, delusional behaviour, swearing, tell me if I missed any!  main m.list      series m.list

Jason is going to do something he’ll regret, and this time Dick feels no reason to hold him back. After your little stunt of just leaving to your friends house for a week, without a phone, and ignoring Damian at school Dick feels no reason to make shit easier for you. Perhaps he’s feeling petty, disregarded like a piece of trash. But then again, isn’t he just that?

In the week you had left Bruce had found your medication stash, and instead of taking it like he predicted he would he sabotaged it. Adding a little bit of drugs that’s meant to make you sleepy enough that you’ll need more help, at least that’s what he told Dick. He doesn’t know if he believes his adoptive father, it’s clear he’s spiralling.

Dick remembers your mama, he remembers her warmth, how she saw through his disguise and how she helped him with grieving Jason. Gods, she was an angel descended down to earth to leave too soon. It makes him think of how similar your future fate might be to your mother’s, it makes him question Barbara if she knew what he could do to bond with you further, but no one but Duke knows and he made it clear he’s not on their side. He likes to think your mama would have sided with them, would have given them the grace you refuse to give. She wouldn’t, she would curse them all to a crueller fate the Joker had given Jason.

But your pills isn’t something that enraged Jason. No, he found that it was quite a good idea. It was your blatant disregard for their feelings, to a degree Dick could understand why you disregard them but he won’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt.

So here he is, with Jason waiting for a few of your friends ready to threaten them. At least he convinced Jason to not go as Red Hood, isn’t he so kind?

Now, there is no time to get distracted, your friends will pick you up at work tonight and they need the fear of your brothers in them.

“I’m so excited for (Name) and Maria,” Francis says to Willow, grinning ear from ear. Oh perhaps the brothers will listen tot his for a short moment. “they finally picked an act for the talent-show.”

“About damn time,” Willow agrees, grinning just as big. “oh and I cannot wait to see that Damian’s face, he’s going to be so surprised that (Name) is even participating!”

Okay, now they’ve heard enough.

“Excuse me,” Dick greets them with his award winning smile (no really, he won awards). “could we have a moment of your time?”

Willow and Francis look at each other and pulled a disgusted face, a face that pissed Jason off enough to grab Francis’ collar. “We shouldn’t be polite to these little fucks,” he hisses as he drags Francis in an alley, something that makes Willow follow immediately. And by the look in her face she was about to kick Jason in the fucking nuts. “they need to be learned a lesson-”

“Get your hands off my fucking brother, you sibling beating bitch!” She shouts, kicking Jason in the side but it does nothing. The kick was like a little tickle and Jason laughs at how pathetic it is. Truly, (Name) you want these pathetic little fucks protecting you?

Dick tsked and forced Willow to stand in a corner with her brother who looks suspicious. “We don’t want to fight,” he says, but it’s a clear lie. And when he saw Willow’s deadpan he gave her a smile that Willow could only describe as crazed. “yet.”

At least Francis has the sense to attempt to protect his little sister, but all Jason could think about was smashing his head in the wall for filling you with thoughts of leaving. For giving you the confidence to act like a bitch (what they don’t know is that this won’t intimidate Francis and Willow, no, they’ll tell you all about it and whatever you do. Don’t worry they’ll stand by your side). “Don’t glare you little shit,” Jason hisses at Francis. “you have no right, who the fuck do you guys think you are?!”

Willow scoffs; “Maybe we need some context to two strangers pulling us in an alley and clearly having a fucking issue with us!”

She knows who they are, Dick is sure of it. She has to.

“Because all I see is two insecure men that can’t believe their little sibling is fucking awesome and no longer needs them!” She shouts, and now it hits him. Willow doesn’t see them as Dick and Jason, no. Simply as two poor brothers. “And now you are fucking intimidating us?!”

Well turns out Jason has less self-control then Dick remembers, because now it was Willow’s head who was smashed into a wall. Blood dripping down her face, and for a second Dick has a moment of clarity. What the fuck are they doing? They are meant to protect civilians, yet here they are smashing a small girls head in a wall. Francis makes a sound of surprise and quickly pulls Willow to his side, his eyes wide as he spoke; “You know at first I couldn’t believe (Name) that the Wayne’s are such pieces of shit. But now I know that’s even too kind.”

Dick chuckles. “As if anyone would believe you if you were to tell them what happened then and now,” Francis smirks as if he knows something Dick and Jason don’t, which he’ll ignore for now. “so run along and see this a warning. Stop corrupting (Name), or this won’t be the last of this.”

“Even without us,” Willow starts, slurring her words a bit. Jason still frozen in shock of what he just did and the fact that Dick didn’t stop him. “they would have ‘turned’ against you, you neglectful motherfuckers.”

With that the two they left, not knowing what storm was coming when (Name) comes home.

BAD ENDING 0.1 NEXT PART (main story) As the titel says, it's the beginning of the end! I know it hasn't gotten all too bad yet but from this chapter forward I will be going 2 ways, a bad ending and a good ending. Idk yet how many chapters they will each get, but basically the bad ending means that the batfam gets their preffered ending (with a few hiccups) and the good ending means you'll get an escape ending which will be ‘the main story’ because the good ending takes a different path than the bad ending. And the bad ending is more extreme so I'll make a seperate masterlist for the chapters for that and a seperate taglist.

taglist:@prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue, @bunniotomia, @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @princessbonnie-bell, @seemee3, @pix-stuff, @venomsvl, @amber-content, @stove-top96, @frank-vanderboom, @leeiasure, @1abi, @shadowytravelerlover, @chericia, @lithiumval, @lingxio, @cssammyyarts, @marsmabe, @foolishseven, @kore-of-the-underworld, @bunbunboysworld, @homeless-clown, @miashico, @alwaysholymilkshake, @1cxndy, @kittzu, @rtyuy1346, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @artistwithcreativeburnout, @alishii, @vanessa-boo, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @91-kya, @ryuushou, @jjsmeowthie, @justthere1956, @depressed--therapist, @xzmickeyzx, @cheappremingerfromdelululand, @plsfckmedxddy, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @trashlaternfish360, @leogf, @dirtydiavolo, @lilyalone, @welpthisisboring, @kenman00001, @nxdxsworld, @icefox8155, @ironsaladwitch, @holderoflostmemories, @asillysimp, @wisefuncherryblossom, @eyeless-kun, @marina27826, @muggleloveralways, @ironsaladwitch, @shyenemyperson, @iamaunknownsecret

[ohtobeleah]

CHAMELEON IS SOOOO GOOD UGH im obsessed with this dysfunctional couple trying to be functional again! thank you so feeding us!!

i would love to see that breakfast scene btw 👀

Chameleon // Jack Abbot

“Do you still get the usual?” 

It wasn't supposed to be such a loaded question. But the reality was, no. No, you didn't get the loaded avocado, with smashed pumpkin, pickled onions, tomatoes and feta on sourdough anymore. You didn't get the dish you and Jack had often shared. The meal was balanced well rounded. Filling. But you'd stopped ordering that when Jack moved out. 

Now? You didn't have an order. You hadn't been to Willows since you asked for a separation. It wasn't the same without Jack. 

“I'll just have whatever you're having, with a chai latte.” 

But here you were. Sitting across from the love of your life, at a table set for two, feeling like the third wheel. Jack…the silence, and yourself. 

“I had a pretty rough end to the shift,” It's Jack that breaks it though. He sounds tired. You recognise a little exhaustion, maybe even a hint of despair laced through his words. 

“Oh, wanna talk about it?” With a scowling brow, you probe. It's not like Jack to offer up the things that trouble him for free. At the very least, he'd developed a rather frustrating habit of just not offering it to you. 

“I had a guy come in who'd come off second best after being hit by a car on a run,” Jack explained as he rubbed his palms on his knees. He was sweating. Why did you look so perfect? Even after a fifteen-hour shift. “His fiancée was, rightly, devastated. But she told me they'd had one of their first big fights and he'd decided to go for a run to cool off.” 

You didn't reply. The heaviness that surrounded the two of you was all that needed to be focused on. Jack sipped his long black. You stirred your Chai. Both the bacon and egg rolls that Jack had ordered for both of you were now going cold on their respective plates. 

“Made me think about us,” He broke the silence again. Only this time, your heart dropped into your stomach. “How…complicated things have gotten.” 

It was never meant to become out of control. The sadness, that is. Jack thought he had everything under control. He was managing. He was working. He was coping. 

Until he woke up with his hands around your neck.

“I never want to experience that level of regret; that look on her face was something ripped right from a horror movie.” Jack could picture it as clear as day. He was sure he'd remember this woman's grief for years to come. The permanence of it all. The end. The ‘that's it, you can't take back what you said’ in her eyes when she realised her soon-to-be husband was dead, and the last thing she said was ‘Fine, but don't come back with an attitude still.’ 

It made Jack reflect…

“Makes you wonder if you'd turn back the clock, doesn't it?” You signed, picking at the crispy outer edges of the fried egg on your burger. 

“Or you could have just…not left.” He didn't mean for it to sound so one-sided. Like everything had been so perfect before you walked away. Jack didn't mean to make it sound like this was your fault. It wasn't, but god, why did you have to leave? 

“That's not what this is or ever was, Jack? You know why.” You replied, shock made its home across your face as you did so. Where the hell did that come from? “I'm sorry about your patient, but seriously, watch what you say to me.” 

“I needed you the most and you—” Jack watched the fake reality he'd found himself surrounded by, shatter around him. He'd gotten lost in the flirtatious nature of your breakup. He thought he could repeat the cycle… But you pushed back. 

“Forgave shit you would have hated me for, that's the conversation you aren't ready for yet! That's what I did.” It was clearly not the first time you'd had to remind Jack what the reality of the situation was. At least that's probably what the older lady sitting at the table adjacent to you thought. She sent you a small look of sympathy…but although intended as a gesture of kindness, it just felt like a knife to the chest. 

“It wasn't that I left you when you were at your lowest, because I made sure you got proper help before I got myself help.” Jack didn't interrupt as you spoke. He simply sat across from you, thinking about how he shouldn't have opened his mouth. 

“If I didn't love you and didn't want you to be a part of my life, I wouldn't be sitting here trying to figure out if this was just some half thought out attempt at an apology, or if you really are just reaching an age where critical thinking skills start to rapidly decline.” 

“Sorry, I am.” Jack groaned as he ran his hands over his face. You knew he was, you could see it in his eyes when he looked at you. His soul had aged, but they were still the same eyes you fell in love with. 

“You should be,” You scoffed in disbelief, although it wasn't too far out of the realm of possibility for Jack Abbot. “My god, this was a mistake.” 

“I didn't mean it to sound like that,” Jack admitted with a softness in his voice. The guilt was already eating him alive. Sitting this close to you, yet so far away, was driving him wild. “I just mean, I wish things hadn't gotten so bad that you felt like leaving was the only option you had.” 

“Yeah, well,” You groaned, reaching for your chai latte. The sip was heavenly. Maybe it had something to do with the fact you'd been stirring it absentmindedly for five minutes. Or maybe it was just the fact that you hadn't been to your favourite cafe since your separation. “Can't take it back now, just—think.” 

The frustration in your voice was extremely difficult to hear. The last thing Jack ever wanted to do was be the cause of your pain, discomfort or anger. Yet here he was…the cause of all three. 

“You don't usually like it when I do that?” Jack tried to lighten the mood. He smiled, just barely. But you saw it. 

“Beats the alternative where you're just an outright jerk.” You replied. The giggle the two of you shared was as pure as your love. It was a nice moment of reprieve as the hustle and bustle of Willow's cafe filled the comfortable silence. 

“I said I was sorry,” Jack smirked. His eyes never left yours. He had a way of making the world around you stop when he had you locked in a state so fierce, it nearly took away your ability to breathe. 

“Yeah, you say that word a lot, actually.” It was the way you rolled your eyes that broke the stare off. The contest filled with nuance and context that others just passing by would never catch. “To the point where you'd think the definition would be easier to understand.” 

Jack faked a pained chest. You laughed. He smiled softly. It was definitely a moment. It was…nice? 

“You look beautiful, by the way, I haven't told you that in a while, but you look,” 

“Thanks,” You accepted the compliment. “You look like you've been up for three days.” 

“Bed's a lonely place.” Jack shrugged. It was the truth. Sleeping was hard at the best of times. But sleeping alone really made the voices echo. 

“Might need to fix that, pops.” You teased. It was your way of telling Jack he had to keep trying. Keep fighting. 

“I never should have listened to Robby.” Jack offered up as he shook his head. A mouth full of burger had him muffling his words. But you understood perfectly. 

“Was he the one who told you to take your wife to breakfast and insult the shit out of her?”   “I might have to tell Robinavitch to back off?” 

“My wife,” Jack repeated. He heard it loud and clear. You had just referred to yourself as his wife. It sent electricity shooting through his body like he was designed just for you. “I haven't heard you say that in a long time.” That very statement alone was enough to have your heart aching inside your chest. 

“I haven't felt like it in a long, long time.”

[golddustwomanwins]

DEVIL’S SNARE

Nerd Art Donaldson x Popular Reader

18+

There will be a second part for this, I just needed to write a little prologue because apparently I’m a yapper.

Part 2

It was you who’d sought Art out. Your grades were slipping, meaning that your parents slowly took all your privileges away. No partying on the weekends, no meeting friends or even driving around in your car, if you didn’t make an actual effort at studying.

At first you tried on your own. Even forced your friend group to study with you but you’d always and up gossiping and giggling all night.

When your parents took away all your car privileges—meaning you had to take the tram anywhere you wanted to go—you knew you needed someone to help you.

Naturally, Art was a shy, stuttering mess when you approached him. It didn’t take more than batting your long lashes and pulling your plump, glossy lips into a seductive smile and he was nodding quickly. Promising that he’d help you out.

At first he was pretty awkward. Messing up sentences, never meeting your gaze. But the more you two met up the more comfortable he got around you. To your surprise, you really liked spending your evenings with Art. He was a great teacher and for the first time you actually understood what the teachers had always tried to explain.

You met up again at your usual spot in the college’s library but Art seemed off. He was distracted and lazy, his eyes flying to a particular corner every few seconds.

“She’s cute,” you said, without looking up from your sheet of paper.

“W-what?” Art went beetroot red as his eyes flew back to look at you.

“That little brunette girl you’ve been eyeing for the past hour?” You clarified, motioning to the girl on the corner, nose stuck in a particularly enormous book. Her glasses kept slipping off the bridge of her nose while she insistently pushed it back to her eyes.

She was cute. A picture perfect girl, just the type you expected Art to like. On top of class, naturally beautiful with a soft smile and a sweet laugh.

“Stacy? She’s in my math class.” Art scratched the back of his neck.

“How long have you been crushing on her?” You leaned slightly forward, a devilish smile on your face.

“What—no—I haven’t—“ he stuttered and you rolled your eyes.

“Art, we’re not in kindergarten anymore. You can admit if you find a girl hot.”

You were intrigued now. You didn’t expect Art to even notice girls. He was always so fixated on his school work and it barely seemed like he had a social life. At the beginning of your lessons you’d always flirt with him but it seemed like he wasn’t too thrown off by it.

“It’s different. She’s different,” he looked down at his notes. “I—she’s nice and smart and pretty.”

You watched his ears grow red.

“But she doesn’t see me that way,” Art huffed.

A slow, ugly feeling dragged through you. Empathy. You looked back at Stacy chewing at your lip thoughtfully. The romance department might be the only thing you were able to help Art with. And you were in a charitable mood.

The chair screeched as you stood up and Art looked up at you with panic.

“What are you doing?” He hissed, his hand grabbing for your wrist but you were quicker.

Hips swinging you walked confidently over to Stacy. The girl looked up surprised when you gave her a soft smile.

“Hi! Stacy, is it?”

“Uhh, yes,” her eyes flickered between you and Art, who you assumed was dying from embarrassment in the background.

“Do you know my friend over there?” Stacy looked behind you and nodded. Freckles dusted her porcelain skin and you tilted your head slightly. Art was right she was pretty.

“I’m such a cluts, I told him that I’d get the condoms for tonight, then forgot about it and now we’re in a bit of a dilemma,” you said, already imagining Art suffocating you with a math book. You had way too much fun with this.

“And we really wanted to be together tonight, you know,” you winked as Stacy’s cheeks flushed. “Would you be able to help a girl out? I mean you’ve seen Art, you know no one can say no to that.”

“Oh, uhh I’m sorry I don’t have any,” she mumbled but her eyes kept flicking back towards Art every few seconds.

You sighed. “Bummer. Well, I’ll guess we have to do it without then.” You shrugged and turned around, grinning at Art as you approached him.

“What did you do?” He asked horrified.

“I just made Stacy see you in that way,” you shrugged and sat back down. “Won’t be long and she’ll hit you up.”

“I—what?” Art stuttered again.

“Your Welcome,” you slipped your finished worksheet over to him.

It only took Stacy a few couple days until someone started to pound the door at your dorm. You paused the video on your laptop, dissatisfied and slipped into some cheeky shorts before opening the door.

Art looked at you with flushed cheeks and disheveled hair. “I need your help.”

[rafeys-angel13]

don’t touch her

summary: when you’re at the beach with your friends and some boys get too persistent about taking you on a date. jj helps diffuse the situation without exposing your relationship.

warnings: none

summerfling!jj x spoiledkook!reader

you and jj had been sneaking around together this summer. his friends don’t know and your friends don’t know. it’s not that you’re embarrassed by him and don’t want people to know, it’s that if people people knew you guys were dating, everyone would think you’re a weirdo and you have a status to uphold.

this morning, you and your friends made a last minute decision to go to the beach. you guys drove to the beach in the g wagon your father had bought you when you passed your driving test.

once you guys get settled with your bottles of alcohol and lemonade, fruit bowls and all. some other looks show up, you greet them warmly as usual and they join you. adding to the collection of alcohol.

you guys swim, surf and draw your names in the sand like every time you’re at the beach. it’s a little later in the day now and it’s the hottest it’s been all day so you go back to the cooler and grab a waterbottle, opening it and taking a drink.

you see some guys you’ve known since elementary school, you smile at them and they walk over.

“hey, pretty girl” marcus smirks, giving you a side hug.

“hi, you guys want some water, it’s pretty hot” you point to the cooler and they chuckle and shake their heads.

“nah, we’re good… but you know what i want?” luke tilts his head and steps forward.

“what?” you sip your water and look back at your friends playing in the water.

“how about, you and me go on a date… how does that sound?” luke smirks, grabbing your face and tilting your head up. he has that stupid smirk on his face you swear he’s had since he came out the womb.

“i’m okay thank you… i’d rather have a boy-free summer” you chuckle, trying to figure out how you’re going to get them to leave you alone without straight up saying ‘i have a boyfriend’.

“oh come on… you don’t want me to take you to a nice restaurant?” he smiles, pulling you in by your waist. you push his hand off your waist.

“no i don’t.” you snap, stepping back. only to bump into someone, immediately smelling the familiar scent of jj, thank god.

“hey, you don’t suppose i could take a water, do you?” jj smiles at you when you turn around to look at him. you shake your head and grab him a water out of the cooler.

“princess, don’t give this pogue a damn drink. he can get his own.” marcus sighs. jj side eyes him.

“so who are you? her boyfriend or something?” jj smirks, marcus shakes his head.

“no i was just talking to her…”

“get out of her business then…” he fake smiles and the two back up, chuckling and mumbling something between them.

“thanks jayj” you sigh and hand him the water bottle.

“no problem, princess” he smiles and kisses your forehead, before making his way back to his friend group.

you walk back over to your friend, ruthie who was sat on a towel.

“hey, girl… what was that about?” she tilts her head.

“oh just marcus and luke being annoying, it’s fine though” you smile and sit next to her.

she narrows her eyes and smiles.

“i mean with jj… do you two have something going on…?” she giggles and leans in, giving you the look that makes you feel bad for keeping secrets from her.

“you can tell me…” she grins

“fine but you can’t tell anyone…” you hold out your pink and she wraps hers with yours

“i swear, now tell me.” she giggles

“me and jj have been seeing each other for a while… i haven’t told anyone and neither has he” you smile slightly, happy to finally be able to tell her.

“oh my god… like hooking up or just seeing each other…?”

“like hooking up…”

“is he good?” she giggles

“fuck yeah… it’s jj, of course he is”

later that night, you’re at home. jj is laying next to you, giggling at something stupid on his phone and you turn to look at him.

“i told ruthie…”

he snaps his head to look at you and his eyes widen.

“what?! you said we couldn’t tell anyone!” he sits up

“you can tell john b… then we’re even.” you giggle and he lays back down with a smug smirk.

“can i tell john b and pope? please” he dramatically grabs your hand and kisses the back of it. you giggle and nod.

“sure”

“yes! thank the lords above!” he sits up and grabs his phone

“lords…? i thought there was only one lord above…” you mumble in thought.

“who gives a shit? i get to tell everyone you’re mine” he lays on top of you and kisses all over your face before resting his forehead on yours.

“slow down, not everyone… just john b and pope” you giggle

“you’re still mineeee”

-

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Indulgence 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, obsession, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: King!Thor (Medieval AU)

A Knights, Kings, and Knaves Story

Summary: you take a new placement without knowing the full details.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You stand by the litter and watch as the king approaches his horse. He told you her name is Lightning. He says she is fast. He greets her with a stroke along her nose and she snaps her teeth at him. He chuckles and musses her main.

"Ah, I know, you've missed me. The ladies always do when I go away," he drags his hand over her shoulder and grabs the reins.

He hauls himself up as several guards shift, almost as if they mean to catch him. He lands in the saddle and chortles. "Still got it, haven't I?"

The horse steadies and he prances her in a circle. He raises his head high and keeps up his booming laughter. When the hooves still, he looks around.

"What is this then? Let us be off? This road exhausts me already," he thunders.

The soldiers and nobles disperse to be about their own mounts. The king catches your eye and bows his head. He smiles. You dip your head and bend your knees before turning to climb into the litter. Your protests that you could slip in with the servants were unheard in his tent and the conversation didn't last as he was soon snoring like a storm.

You cannot gripe. The mattress is soft and the motion of the litter is almost soothing. The horses clop by and the wagons roll along, the day unfurling as the sun traces its course across the sky.

It feels longer than the day before. Perhaps because you are alone. When camp is called, the sky is worrying shade of grey blue.

"Flip the wagons," the men holler, "should a tempest fall, it will keep safe our supplies."

As a furor picks up across the train of travelers, you emerge from the litter. You are uncertain of how you might assist, or even where to go. You watch the activity all around. You might ask one of the maids how you can help.

"Kitten," the king's voice draws you away from the whim. "Ah, there you are. What a rather dull ride without you."

You face him and bow. He approaches with stiff steps as he braces his lower back.

"My steed is not so accommodating as the litter," he tuts. "But I did enjoy to see the bounty of my kingdom."

"Your highness," your eyes stray to the darkening clouds.

"Aye, I've been forewarned of the storm. I never worried for them. I was born in one. The horse will kick up but have no fear," he assures. "Come, they ready my tent."

He leads you through the camp. Wheels are turned to the sky as luggage is hidden beneath, passengers too. As all prepare for the fury of nature, the king is unbothered.

You enter the tent set on four poles. He sighs and sits on a stool awaiting him. He groans and drops his head forward. "The hips, I expected, but my neck..."

You watch him brush his fingers through his hair. There are knots from the wind as some beads hang loosely from unwinding braids. He sits up and tosses his hair back over his shoulders.

"Your highness," you approach. "Might I?"

You gesture and he tilts his head, "so long as you don't meant to tug my ear."

You catch a tangle and work at undoing it. "It will mat should you leave it."

It's habit, you suppose. Your charges run in with their dirty faces and mussed hair and you just go to work. Be he a king, Thor tends to share their heedlessness.

"Thank you, kitten," he purrs.

"You've a comb?" You wonder.

"Ah somewhere."

"A king should wear tidy braids," you gird. The task with keep you busy. Him too. You are still wary lest he grow too bored. You shudder at the thought of your first meeting.

"Fastidious woman," he praises. "Try not to yank too much."

"Be certain to be still and I will not," the retort escapes before you can think. You always say the same to the children. "Your highness," you still your hands and look at him. "Forgive me, I didn't mean--"

His laughter interrupts you.

"You are right to be cautious. I am stubborn," he shakes his head and his hair catches on your fingers, tugging at the root. "Already I do challenge you."

"I was only... I will be gentle," you assure him.

You carefully untangle his strands, bit by bit. He sits, moving only to roll his shoulders or shift his posture. When you have the knots under control, you let down his braids and re-weave them. He yawns.

"I think that's better, my king," you step back.

He reaches to touch his hair. He grins. He plays with the end of one lock.

"I'm am rather much a mess for a king," he scoffs.

"No, I wouldn't say it," you coax. "You wear a mantle of responsibility. And you rode your horse proud today. You will lead us to this new kingdom and do as you must. As you always do."

"Oh, will I?" He challenges as he traces a line on his large palm. "We've only just met, kitten. How do you know this of me? What have you heard of your king, eh?"

"I've heard of your courage. I recall the tale of Crow's Cliff. And the children do love to re-enact the Battle at Wolf's Den."

"Legends. Fancies," he shrugs and winces. "The same as the stories you tell the little ones. Victories but not without loss. Crow's Cliff I was dragged away by horses with a split in my skull and Wolf's Den, I was abed for a year as I could not breathe without a stabbing in my guts."

"But you survived and made certain we all did."

"Ha, is that how you see it? My wife, my father even, did not. Gods rest his donkey's ass but he could never see the good I did. Perhaps, I could not see the bad." He clutches the muscle between his shoulder and neck. "And now, I am weathered. How can I ride in a tournament when the road has me such." He leans his elbows on his thighs. "What king am I?"

"You've many days to practice, haven't you?" You suggest. "Sit your horse and get your balance, your highness," you near. "Show me wear it hurts."

"Eh, kitten, too kind are you. I'm better to find the stabler that soothes the horses of their cramps."

"But I am here."

He growls and keeps his eyes down. He points to wear he kneaded before, just across his shoulder. You move around him and hover your hands over him.

"Tell me if it hurts."

"It all hurts," he chuckles. "But I can bear it for a pretty maiden."

[saltyyuuri]

How valorant agents would react to:

"what was in the box I found on your desk?"

Brimstone: "you didn't look inside it did you?!"

You didn't, thankfully. He was planning on gifting you a simple necklace he found, had a small locket on it with engravings and a picture of you both for your 2 year anniversary.

Phoenix: "Oh shit my new shoes came in??"

Of course he had bought another pair of expensive shoes for his collection, the usual.

Sage: "oh my order of tea :) I got some shipped from china, would you like some?"

She let you taste some of the tea she had ordered in, spending the afternoon in her living quarters, relaxing and chatting over the cup of tea

Sova: "Oh just some charged arrowheads for my shock arrows. You didn't touch them, did you?"

By the time he had a reply you had already opened the box and got relatively well electrocuted after touching one of the arrowheads. When he came back he just sighed, shook his head but bandaged your hand.

Viper: "poison."

It was not actually poison but the answer alone was enough to get you to not touch that box.

Cypher: "oh a new chess set, made of wood and entirely hand carved. Would you be interested in playing later?"

Of course you said yes, and the new chess pieces were quite nice. You could understand why he wanted to acquire these.

Reyna: "don't you dare open it."

The lack of detail made you curious and you couldn't help looking inside. When you saw the contents of the box, far from PG-13, you had to sit yourself down for a moment. And of course she walked in a bit after, and seeing your red face she already knew you checked. "Well now you know what's about to happen."

Killjoy: "my alarm bot. It's in time out."

You don't really understand why, curiosity getting the better of you and opening the box. You discovered pretty fast after the alarm bot was practically attacking you.

Breach: "probably a gun, molly or fusion cells."

And you were more stunned about 'molly' being an option in all of that. Turns out it was only fusion cells.

Omen: "yarn. I ordered more."

You took care of unpacking it for him and putting it in his designated basket for yarn. He was quite grateful, being able to just sit down and knit without worrying about the unpacking part.

Jett: "uhhhhhhhhhhhhh idk"

So you take it upon yourself to open the box, revealing a very suspicious looking pack. After opening it you could see it was white powder and it immediately alerted you. After a bit of back and forth texts, turns out she just ordered a bag of MSG, a spice for her food (I don't know if it's actually a spice or not so don't quote me)

Raze: "UH EITHER BOMBS OR SPRAY PAINT."

Out of curiosity you open the box. And curiosity killed the cat as you end up in med bay. From now on her boxes are going to get labeled properly.

Skye: "oh just a few wooden sculptures I stashed away. I was supposed to sort them."

You had fun looking through all the different sculptures she had made, laying them out on the desk. You sorted them by species, hoping that would give her a little bit of a hand.

Yoru: "drugs."

It was not drugs; and you learned that the hard way after Brimstone immediately searched the room after getting told there was potentially drugs. It was actually just a couple sweet snacks ordered in from Japan that he didn't want you getting into-and instead of getting himself in trouble.

Astra: "my drawing supplies!"

You did look through it briefly, finding nothing really interesting other than a copious amount of markers and pencils.

Kay/o: "why are you in my maintenance room."

It is true that killjoy is the only one who's supposed to be in that room to begin with; being the one who usually does the maintenance on kay/o

Chamber: "you will know tonight."

... I don't feel like I have to explain this one. But for those who don't understand: no walking for the next day.

Neon: "OH I FORGOT TO HIDE IT! IT'S FOR YOU THO 💙"

She had put together a little gift basket, like the one seen on tik Tok for Valentine's Day; chocolates, a plushie, a blankets, favorite drink, new tumbler and a handwritten card with an invitation to a restaurant dinner.

Fade: "kitty toys. Can you unpack them for nightmare?"

She had splurge it a little bit for her cat, and there was various toys, treats and a new little hammock for the kitty.

Harbor: "Ah! That must be the helmet I ordered for you so we can go on motorcycle rides together 😄"

He had gotten you a slightly more expensive helmet than what he usually got himself, one that had a bit of a fancy design on it and the mirror visor to look a little more mysterious.

Gekko: "OH IT FINALLY CAME IN??? I GOT WINGMAN A LITTLE SUIT."

Inside the box was a small suit that looked like it was tailored for an infant, which would make sense because trying to explain to a custom clothing maker that it was supposed to be for a radiant critter would probably confuse them. But seeing wingman in a suit was absolutely adorable.

Deadlock: "sound sensors, be careful."

The notification sound on your phone set them off, resulting in you getting stunned almost back to back a couple of times.

Iso: "snacks."

Indeed the box was full of snacks, but one in particular caught your attention. You took it out, and it was one of those bead candies that you usually wear on the necklace or a bracelet, just a different shape. It was packaged in a clear bag with no labeling and you opened it just to check what it was supposed to be. After unpacking it and seeing your face went red. Seems Iso already decided on desert for the night.

Clove: "rocks :D"

It was their entire rock collection, all nicely sorted in the box. You added one of your own in there for them.

Vyse: "Schrödinger's cat"

It was indeed not a cat, just a few various equipments that she needed for experiments she was working on. But for the joke you did leave a Post-It note with a cat drawing on it, purposely drawing it dead.

Tejo: "why are you looking through my stuff? 🤨"

Turns out he had just ordered another pair of shades, adding yet one more pair to his collection. But you did decide to mess around and borrow one of his pairs to wear around.

Waylay: "A glass suncatcher."

The glass suncatcher reflected the same way that her powers did with the light. It was honestly pretty and you hung it for her in the best spot on the window, so when she walked in it would be shimmering already for her.

[fafodill]

I don’t vibe with the golddigger!Lily headcanon because (unlike Severus or even Petunia) she doesn’t ever need to proactively, well, dig. She lives a charmed life for like 18 years! There’s a war going on where her people are the target of an evil murdercult that a decent 25% of her school supports and Severus snapping at her seems to be the first and only time she’s even remotely targeted for her blood status! Everyone loves her! Voldemort himself is willing to let her walk away! 

… so no, I don’t think she ever thought about whether she was doing the same thing as Severus before she died, because she died at 21 and that is well before any your-experiences-aren’t-universal brain development tends to kick in. Maybe in an AU where she lives to actual adulthood and has to come to terms with how lucky she’s been? But I think her “sin” here, such as it were, is naivety, not hypocrisy or some sort of secret hidden cruelty tbh. She’s just a kid and her life is wonderful until it’s horrible and then she’s murdered.

Which is to say, I do think she’s exactly as nice as she presents herself to be! It’s not a lack of love or compassion that’s the issue, she has love and compassion and willingness to forgive and believe in people’s better natures in spades! It’s a complete lack of context and understanding that makes her a both a fairly realistic teenager and a godawful friend to poor Severus, who needs a functional adult on his side rather than a 16 year old who’s engaging with his life-or-death situation through the lens of petty schoolyard disagreements because that’s all she’s ever known. Harry does similar things in the opposite direction when he interprets relatively normal interactions as preludes to violence due to his abusive upbringing, right, this is the kid who reacts to “Professor Flitwick, can I borrow Wood?” with the sincere belief he is going to be beaten with a cane.

(I also think Lily died without knowing the truth about the prank, and that’s part of the reason why the Marauders ditched Remus after graduation. And I think she never wondered about it even for a moment, even though she would be absolutely horrified if she found out.)

she has love and compassion and willingness to forgive and believe in people’s better natures in spades.

Well she clearly doesn't tho, does the? If she did, she would have surely been able to forgive Severus or at least take half a step back, get her head out of her ass and realize he was being horribly manhandled at that moment. For heavens's sake, he had been restrained, choked with soap and hung upside down, 4 vs 1! She was entitled to feeling hurt but if she so self-centered as to think that what he had told her compared to what he had just been subjected to, then it says a lot about 1) how normalized it was to see him being hurt and 2) how entitled and sensitive she is.

She smiled.

To me it clearly indicated that they had grown apart in a significant way already because if she considered him her friend still, she would have hexed James, she would have tried way harder to help Severus and she would certainly not have smiled. The smile AND the insult she hits him back with afterwards aren't things that occurred in her mind for the first time. Had she not smiled, I would be willing to think that calling her Snivellus (AND insulting his underpants - which she's aware - VERY AWARE - that he's poor as fuck) was just her being a hurt teen and wanting to hurt him back in the same way that he had just done. But she had to suppress a SMILE beforehand, and that's just vile and revealing. I would be horrified if a friend of mine was treated this way, I would yell and ask for a teacher and attack the bullies. And she was popular! She had some leverage AND James was in love with her (and she knew that). She was a good witch, she could have done something, ANYTHING!

But no, she suppressed and smile and then insulted him and I firmly believe that it means that she had started laughing at him behind his back for a little while already. Maybe reluctantly. Maybe to fit in, but also because she did find him kinda lame. And that maybe she was already planning to cut ties with him but didn't have a good enough reason. The insult was the perfect excuse.

She is Petunia's sister.

They both married super young an older guy who was of higher status and both became mothers right away. They still had the same background and education and it shows. And they are both capable of cruelty, this scene is the proof of it.

In your next sentence you say she lacks 'context and understanding' which explains her attitude towards Severus but what do you even mean here, lack of context? What context? She was aware that he has been bullied for 5 years already. Even if Severus had tried to hide some from her because he was ashamed, James and Sirius still were definitely not hiding it and she was in the same House as them.

I'm willing to admit that she was 16 and self-centered. But it's not because you're 16 that you're necessarily an asshole. But you're right here: she did not have remotely as much problems as Severus. But I think she didn't want to be associated with him anymore. She was a rising little star compared to him (socially) and she must have been quite happy about it - that's fair.

But coming from a modest background and turning your back on your dirt-poor friend - while sadly understandable because as a teen she just wanted to fit in and let her old life behind - is still extremely shitty.

I think her “sin” here, such as it were, is naivety, not hypocrisy or some sort of secret hidden cruelty tbh. She’s just a kid and her life is wonderful until it’s horrible and then she’s murdered.

She's not naive. She choose to look the other way. She gaslit him by calling him obsessed with his bullies - that he wanted gone from the school for very valid reasons - because she herself liked them and appreciated the attention she got from James. To her, Severus must have felt like a sourpuss looser who wasn't making any efforts. She didn't want to admit that he was struggling against things way bigger than them (blood and social status and also lookism). It's not naivety, it IS hypocrite. How convenient for her to judge him when she got into the 'good House' and is pretty and not as poor as him?

Look, to me, taking away from Lily the fact that she did turn her back on Severus even before SWM is taking away from her character. She's not an angel. She's not the devil either but I do think it says a lot that she's Petunia's sister and that she married James Fleamont Potter of all people.

She was young. They all were. But you can be young and still feel compassion towards others and acknowledged their difficulties - even if you don't plan on remaining friends with them.

[amirawrah]

⭐︎Through my lens

with IBRAHIMA KONATE⭐︎ two part series last part

synopsis: When a spontaneous weekend work trip brings her to liverpool, a photographer from New York finds herself swept up in the energy of the match, the city, and the quiet gravity of the man she's been missing.

amirah: from my drafts to you guys @kjlovesbigwilo i thought of this when we talked about the dump photos, if you read this fic you would get what i mean a bit but i'm not good with angst so happy ending!

The first time you noticed him, it wasn’t through your lens. You were setting up your camera track by the training pitch, sun poking through low clouds in a way that reminded you a little of fall in New York. Players moved across the grass like they were made of rhythm and muscle. Fast, sharp, focused. You’d been hired by Liverpool FC for a weekend-long creative campaign—photo and video content, behind-the-scenes, on-pitch moments, all shot documentary style. You didn’t expect to speak to many of the players. Certainly not him.

But then there was Ibrahima Konaté. Towering. Grinning. And absolutely walking toward you.

“Bonjour,” he said, that unmistakable French warmth laced in his tone, hands tucked behind his back like he was trying not to scare you. “You’re the one with the camera, right?”

You blinked at him, trying not to sound like an idiot. “Yeah. That’s me.”

He nodded slowly, then pointed at the track you were building. “That looks serious.”

You chuckled, still adjusting the stabilizer. “It is serious. Motion shots. Gotta earn my money.”

Ibou tilted his head like he was impressed. “Are you from here?”

“No. New York.”

“Ah,” he said, smiling wider. “That explains the accent.”

You looked down at your sneakers. “What’s wrong with my accent?”

“Nothing. Just very…American.”

You rolled your eyes, but you smiled too. “Go warm up.”

“I will i will,” he said, already backing away.

Throughout the day, he’d pass by between drills—offering you water, pointing out things, even gesturing when his teammates were goofing off so you wouldn’t miss a shot. You told yourself it was just a player being friendly. Just good PR behaviour. But then after the shoot, you went into the city for a quick bite and nearly dropped your latte when you saw him again—at the same little corner shop, buying a box of strawberries.

“Are you following me now?” he teased while holding the box.

“You wish,” you replied.

Still, he ended up walking you back to your hotel but he didn’t talk about work at all. He asked what you missed most about New York, what kind of photos made you feel something, what your favourite time of day was. His own answers were soft, thoughtful. Honest.

The next morning, he found you again. “You’ll get bored recording us, eventually” he said while stretching before training.

“Doubt it,” you said. “You all move like wild animals. It’s brilliant.”

By mid-afternoon, he was stealing glimpses at the screen between takes, asking you things about color grading. You tried to stay professional, but the way he leaned in—gentle, patient, curious—was anything but casual. You had to look away sometimes just to reset your breathing.

It was supposed to be a three-day job. You stayed five.

You started seeing him outside the club completely unintentionally—once at a bookstore,. Then again at a late-night dessert spot, where you ordered mint tea while he got a cappuccino . He laughed when he saw you.

You sipped your tea and smiled.

He leaned back and gave you a look. One of those long, quiet glances that said nothing, but mean things. The moment hung there—light and heavy at once. And then he said, “Your leaving soon?”

You nodded. “Monday.”

He looked like he was about to say something else. But he didn’t. He just paid for both drinks without asking and walked you back again.

Sunday came faster than you expected. You had one last video set to shoot at the training ground—slow motion walk-ups, locker room candid shots and a drone footage. But you couldn’t concentrate. Not when you kept catching Ibou in frame, looking directly at your lens with that same quiet energy.

After the shoot, he walked you out.

“You’ll be gone tomorrow,” he said.

You nodded. “Back to New York.”

“Big city,” he murmured. “I’ll miss seeing you here.”

That sentence didn’t sound like a joke.

You paused, your camera strap slung across your body. “You know where to find me. If you ever come to New York.”

“I’ve been,” he said. “But i’d go again.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your chest felt full in a way you didn’t know how to unpack in a goodbye moment. Instead, you just said, “Thanks for not making my time here awkward.”

He smiled. “Of course.”

He didn’t kiss you. He didn’t even touch your hand. But something in his gaze told you that this wasn’t over. That the goodbye wasn’t the end. That something had started in the in-between.

Back in New York, the city felt too loud. Too fast. You were back to your usual gigs, flooded with editorials, creative decks, and gallery meetings. But every so often, you’d glance at your phone and see a DM from him.

Sometimes he sent a photo—sunset on the pitch, or a gym pic.

You sent him a photo of a Manhattan skyline. “I miss the quiet.”

One night, he texted: “Come back. Not for work. Just come.”

You stared at the message for ten whole minutes before replying.

“One day.”

He responded instantly. “I’ll wait.”

And you believed him.

It’s strange how certain cities imprint on you—not through their skyline or their weather, but through the people you meet. Back in New York, everything should’ve felt like a return to normal. Your apartment. Your usual coffee cart guy on the corner. The quiet hum of the subway under your window. But Ibou lived in your mind like a soft refrain. A presence you didn’t know how to shake, and maybe didn’t want to.

You started editing the Liverpool footage a week after returning. You’d been avoiding it, not because of the work, but because you already knew how many frames he would be in. The way he looked at the camera. The way he looked at you. You lingered longer on those clips than you should’ve, playing one where he laughed—really laughed—at something offscreen, and it made your heart twist.

Eventually, you paused the timeline, exhaled, and reached across your desk for your journal. The leather cover was warm from the sunlight spilling through your apartment window, the corner already worn from habit. You flipped past pages filled with project notes and daily gratitudes until you reached the blank one waiting for you today.

September 18th 6:43 PM.

I’m not sure what to do with this feeling. It’s been a week, and Ibou is still living in my head rent-free—without trying, without forcing his way in, just… there. Present. Like background music I don’t want to turn off.

I keep thinking about the way he said my name. The way he lingered after everyone else had moved on. The softness in his eyes when he caught me laughing behind the camera, like I was something worth capturing too.

I’ve met so many people who talk at me. Ibou listens. And when he speaks—it’s thoughtful. Measured. Like his words matter. And somehow, he made me feel like I mattered too. In a city I don’t live in. Around people I don’t know. He saw me. I know he did.

I don’t know what’s next. Maybe nothing. Maybe we don’t speak again. But I hope—I hope it’s not the end of that weekend story. I’d like to see what another chapter might look like. Even if it’s just another coincidence.

You stopped writing for a moment, pressing the pen to the corner of the page, letting the last sentence hang like a truth you weren’t ready to say aloud.

Then, as if on cue, your phone buzzed. A message preview lit up the screen:

Ibou: Are you busy?.

You smiled before you could stop yourself, heart picking up like you were back in Liverpool, like nothing had ever ended.

Maybe it hadn’t.

He messaged every couple of days. Sometimes just emojis. Sometimes full thoughts.

Ibou: “Had a clean sheet today. Lucky charm left too soon.”

You: “I was there for the good energy. That’s it. Can’t do everything.”

Ibou: “If you were here, we’d be top.”

You laughed into your pillow that night. He always said too much, and not enough.

He sent voice notes too, low and steady and warm. “What’s your next shoot? Send me pictures.”

You didn’t send voice notes back—not yet. Instead, you sent photos. Grainy ones from your rooftop. Behind-the-scenes clips from a commercial you shot in Brooklyn. One of your hand, outstretched in sunlight, captioned today was good. He hearted that one in under five seconds.

One night, well past midnight, he called you. FaceTime.

You were in bed, silk bonnet on, eyes barely open. You answered anyway.

“Hi,” he said. Shirtless, hair slightly damp from a shower, eyes soft. “I didn’t think you’d pick up.”

“Hi,” you whispered. “What time is it there?”

“Morning,” he said.

“Why’d you call?”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes wandered—your pillow, the background, the way you were curled into the duvet. Then finally: “I just wanted to see you.The silence after that wasn’t awkward. It felt… intimate. Like you were standing on opposite sides of a long, invisible thread, pulling each other closer without touching.

After that call, something shifted. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just… quieter now. But deeper.

He didn’t pressure you to come back. Instead, he started asking about your life. What you were reading. Whether your parents liked your last gallery piece. If you were still trying to learn how to make THE perfect cup of matcha (he remembered that, somehow).

And then came the real test.

A message from him on a Friday night.

Ibou: “I’m gonna be in newyork for 2 days”

You sat upright.

You: “You’re joking.”

Ibou: “Would not joke about that.”

Ibou: “I land Sunday morning.”

Ibou: “I’d like to see you.”

You stared at your screen, thumb hovering. Then slowly, you typed:

“Okay. Let me know where you’re staying.”

[sillygoofyqueer]

I have a SHITTY THROAT and a BLOCKED NOSE, I HATE being ill oh my god. Anyway I'll power through and give my honeypies an update for the mad scientist AU because I didn't post yesterday and I want to do something with my brain... Lan Wangji is bonding with Wei Ying. He is spending so much time with him and is being told all of the boy's deepest thoughts and feelings. They aren't just limited to Cleansing sessions anymore; Wei Ying is yelling his name from across the camp and bounding over to leap onto his back, likely expecting to be sidestepped or something. Everyone watches in a mixture of shock and confusion as, instead of pulling his usual stunts of looking at people who touch him with icy disdain, Lan Wangji merely hikes Wei Ying's legs up his waist and begins carrying him along with perfect posture. Wei Ying is surprised, laughing more out of startlement than anything else, batting at the man's shoulders and saying "Lan Zhan, you can put me down!! I'm too heavy!" As though he isn't both extremely underweight and also as though he hasn't told him how much it hurts to move for long stretches of time.

This is a regular occurrence. It becomes commonplace to see Lan Wangji and Wei Ying together, even moreso than seeing the gui cultivator with any of The Lads. Xue Yang is over here like "dude what the hell, you're ditching me :(" and Wei Ying goes "nuh uh, extra gege instead!" Xue Yang takes a scrutinising look at Lan Wangji, watches him stare back with that autism look in his eyes and honestly that's all he needs to do - Lan Wangji is now a new gege. It seems like this guy is the only one who can get Wei Ying to do things he's hesitant about doing, as long as he promises to stay with him the whole time. There is not a moment where they're apart. The Wen siblings are, of course, a little hurt by it, but it's hard to not understand where Wei Ying is coming from. It's best to let him come to them rather than trying to force him to forgive them. Wen Qing feels this the most because she's the one who takes on the brunt of responsibilities for her family.

What's going on with the Dafan Wen?? Well, they're in the clutches of the Wen still, so all The Lads can hope is that Wen Ruohan has too much on his mind with the war to consider using them as weapons. After all, as far as he's concerned, Wen Ning, Wen Qing, and Xue Yang have been taken against their will - therefore, no reason to go around slaughtering potential bargaining tools! If anything, he believes that three of the four Lads are being used as a blackmail tool against Wei Wuxian. That's right, folks, he genuinely believes that Wei Wuxian would totally still be on the side of the Wen if he was not being blackmailed. He thinks that his brainwashing was literally so good, and that even though Wei Wuxian killed Wen Zhuliu (by the way, the Big Shots do not know this) and was consequently thrown into the Burial Mounds for it, he's still using the techniques he taught, so he can't be THAT bothered about it! (We have to respect a guy so far up his own ass that he thinks he's That Good.)

Meanwhile, Lan Xichen is loving all of this!! He's all like "oh em gee my didi is bonding with people so much, this is great, I should talk to him about this!!" So they talk and Lan Wangji is like "yeah I like and admire Wei Ying" so Lan Xichen goes "yeah that's great, it's always good to have a friend you admire-" "I want to put my fingers into his mouth." "...So it's always great to have a person that you love, no matter what their gender happens to be-" Anyway. His didi is a cutsleeve too. Poor shifu...he won't be getting any grandkids...unless someone (most likely Wei Wuxian) fucks around with something and gets their internal biology changed. Who knows with that boy? He is actually determined to get to know Wei Wuxian personally without being caught by Wangji (he's watching him like a hawk these days), so he starts having like...biweekly tea sessions with him that are supposed to be about how his cultivation base works and strategising with him but do sometimes end up as mini things like "sooo, do you like my diiidiii??"

Nie Mingjue is all about the grind. While Lan Xichen is trying to learn everything about Wei Wuxian, he is in the background, Meng Yao and him going through all these different attack strategies that just never seem to work. Then Wei Wuxian, who has been peering at the war table with interest, points to an unprotected flank and goes "yeah I could put my palsies there." Nie Mingjue, who has been working with only their army, is hit with the sudden life changing thought of 'oh my fucking god. He has an undead army that we haven't thought about.' It's safe to say that he's very approving of Wei Wuxian after that, much to the delight of Nie Huaisang. What has Nie Huaisang been doing?? SO glad you asked - now that Wei Wuxian is back with his family, he's been working on his other pet project. Meng Yao.

Meng Yao obviously has his whole family situation going on, but also refuses to let Jin Zixuan know that they're related for some unknown reason. Whenever Nie Huaisang brings it up, he's like "no I have to be able to prove myself to him before I reveal that I am his brother. I cannot let his standards be shifted by that knowledge before I have gained his approval naturally." Something or other about 'honour' or whatever THAT means. Nie Huaisang has no time for that and instead goes about making the half brothers connect before they possibly die or whatever, meaning he must go to Jin Zixuan. Of course, instead of just saying "yo you've got a half brother hanging around in our sect", he instead chases the teenager up on that idea he had about talismans to find his family.

Jin Zixuan, still firmly in his "I hate my dad and am going to be nothing like him" era (is it an era if it's just his life now), has been dealing with the stresses of being the youngest kid at the war meetings and having to look out for basically all that is left of his sect. The rest of the sect is evil and not even worth acknowledging honestly, and the knowledge that if they win this war, he will be the sect leader of the Jin Sect is more than a little bit too much for him to handle. Instead of being a big boy and talking about it with someone (because he doesn't feel like he can tell anyone except Luo Qingyang, who can't help much), he latches onto his other issues, like finding his family. After being reminded by Nie Huaisang about his idea, he goes up to not Wei Wuxian but Lan Wangji and is like "is Wei Wuxian healthy enough to help me with this idea?" because basically everyone knows that Wei Wuxian is an unreliable source for these questions.

Lan Wangji considers it carefully and discusses it with Wen Qing, who both decide that Wei Ying can help out because it would be exercising the qi part of his golden core. He hasn't used it nearly enough for a while, so it would be good to help remind him out it works, meaning that as long as he only works with that medium he's allowed to help. Wei Ying has been itching for something important to do - he's not allowed to do much guidao because of his fucked up body or whateva - and leaps at the chance to use talismanry. To make it clear, I've decided that Wei Ying was always interested in the medium of talismanry and read up on it a whole bunch, but was never fully able to make use of it because the Wen saw it as more of a copout/weakling's weapon due to it not requiring much qi to wield most talismans. When he was in the Burial Mounds, he played around with it more, but he really flourished when he got out because he had so many cool materials at his disposal. So, this is like his first major project with talismans involved, and let's just say Jin Zixuan is lucky that Wei Wuxian has a natural talent for talismans (like his baba (another decision I've made)).

[nerdyenby]

Just saw Thunderbolts*!!!!!! (Spoilers)

The really killed Taskmaster (I legit don’t even know her name and I’m upset about it) after ONE line of dialogue. They had a protagonist with a facial difference and a 50/50 gender ratio and then they fucked it immediately. I’m genuinely pissed.

Otherwise, I really loved this movie

Note that I’m coming at this film as a marvel fan with a degree in psychology. Overall I think the depression was handled well but holy crap would I have appreciated a tw for rampant suicide attempt bait because that was wild

Speaking of, I really appreciate the motif of Yelena closing her eyes when she’s ready to die contrasted with the end when she does the same expression but opens her eyes and smiles just a little

I also really appreciated how Bob had to save himself. He needed that external support, but you can’t fight someone else’s demons for them. I also liked the moment where he almost lost himself to it. So often to we get so fed up with our mental illness that we resort to self-destruction, but as much as that anger may be justified, it isn’t productive. Hating yourself is doing that darkness’s work for it, what’s most effective if acknowledging it, trying to accept it, and getting support when you need it.

The theme of being alone together is just so!!!

I thought Bucky and Yelena were gonna be co-protagonists but this was Yelena’s movie and I am 100% okay with that. Bucky is a chronic side character at this point, and Yelena deserves this spotlight. Bucky finding himself in a leader/mentor role is so funny because you can see the moments when he realizes people are looking to him for answers and he’s just like “… me? Shit.” It’s great, I love that it seems like we’re heading towards Yelena being the head of that group with Bucky being her advisor. He’s got a lot to add, but don’t expect him to say more than three sentences at a time, and sure as hell don’t expect him to explain anything /aff

Idk how they managed to make John somewhat likable but he kinda got there in the end. Yes, he’s still an asshole and he probably always will be, but he’s an asshole who’s learning how to put his ego aside to help his new friends and that’s pretty cool

Also!! I loved how absurdly overpowered Sentry is, especially as an antagonist for this group in particular. For vast majority of this movie, you can almost forget what universe we’re in. Most of our protags are just really talented assassins who may or may not have a bit of super strength on the side. They’re crazy good at what they do and this movie does a great job of showcasing that, which makes it all the more impactful when Sentry wipes the floor with them without even trying. There’s no conceivable way for this group to beat someone that powerful, and that hopelessness really lends itself to the overall story being told here. There is no way out, there is no winning this fight, the only option is the sacrifice play — the only victory is through empathy and appealing to the humanity of the person you’re facing.

I love Mel, we stan a queen who isn’t too deep in to be complacent when shit toes the line into truly malicious and unacceptable behavior

Alexei and Yelena’s dynamic was everything btw. I don’t have anything to add really, I just love them

Also I’ve been avoiding marvel news and trailers and all that for years now so I don’t have many expectations (or spoilers) going in, so I genuinely didn’t even stop to consider how this group would meet until the movie started. It’s so obvious that they’d be hired to kill each other, but I didn’t see it coming and that scene was so much more fun for it. I’m obsessed with that fight scene in the vault, it has excellent fight choreography that showcases everyone’s skills, while also allowing for fun character moments that never slow the story or feel contrived. It’s just a blast and I think they really nailed the balance between plot, cool shots, and laying down the foundations for the group’s dynamic

I’m almost done I promise!! I just cannot post about this movie without talking about the climax. Everything about the “shame maze” was so well executed. Not only did it give us an abundance of insight into different characters throughout the movie, but also it was so beautifully shot and constructed. I lost my shit when Yelena ran into the wall the first time, and realizing that it these moments of pure pain and regret were repeating themselves tore me to shreds. Yelena trying to stop it — trying to protect Anya — then covering her younger self’s eyes in the next memory broke my heart. The visuals of this sequence went so hard, and it was just all-around masterful

And just because I haven’t said it yet!! Ava was an absolute gem the entire time, I want more of her on my desk by Monday

[centaurianthropology]

AAAAA! And this is why I love screaming my meta into the void, because sometimes someone screams back and it's so very good! I love this reading of Bharadwaj as someone who forever feels not quite good enough, and who is something of an exploration of the rampant imposter syndrome that lies at the heart of so many academicians, particularly in structures where the academic dick wagging is built in. Working on the STEM side of things, as someone who worked in medicine, I was constantly being told that mine was not as 'pure' a science as chemistry. And in turn, the chemists would be told they weren't as 'pure' as physics, and the physicists would be told they weren't as 'pure' as mathematics. It's a whole ridiculous thing. So we have Bharadwaj in the less sexy field pulling the 'yeah, but geochemistry is a purer science than terraforming' thing we've all heard, but I hadn't even thought to connect it with her fear of not being good enough because she is the one of the group without the doctorate. Oof.

And I also love your idea that she insisted she was fine and good to go on the mission because of that fear of being not quite as good as the others.

I also wonder if we don't see that fear of not being good enough being so prominent in this group specifically because they're both friends and colleagues. They are portrayed as incredibly tight-knit. And when you're a member of a friend group like that, where everyone is also your coworker and also working at the top of their game, you never want to be the one who lets the group down. It doesn't matter if no one would hold you to the ridiculous standards you set for yourself; you're going to insist on pulling your own weight and then some. And we're seeing that behavior in multiple members of PresAux. Your point about why Mensah decided to climb the mountain alone was a great one! Of course she looked at her options and didn't want Bharadwaj to get hurt again, and saw how she was already flagging as the stimulants and the pain meds started wearing off. So Mensah either does this thing on her own, or it doesn't happen. And she's the leader. The buck absolutely has to stop with her. So she's going to push herself farther and harder, because she doesn't want to let the team down.

In the same way, Bharadwaj insists on going back into the field and being at the meeting despite being high as balls and still super rocky. Gurathin secretly rodeo-clowns what he thinks is a malfunctioning killing machine in an effort not to let the group down.

They are all such academics, and they all have such relatable academic neuroses and difficulties! I think that's part of the reason I fell in love with them. Because I've been the team member who feels like the least qualified person in the room and doesn't want anyone else to know it. I've been the person who feels like all the weight is on my shoulders and I don't want to let any of my friends down. I've been the awkward weirdo who loves their extrovert friends so, so much and wants to take care of them. Maybe PresAux just hits different when you're in that academic space, lol.

Anyway, I was so happy to read your thoughts and your incredible dissection of Bharadwaj's character. I went into the show knowing I would probably end up adoring both Murderbot and Gurathin (and I dooooo), but Bharadwaj was a character who never really connected with me in the books but hit me like a sledgehammer of delight in the show.

Also I just love having a middle-aged, not Hollywood pretty (average body size, lines on her face, no makeup) academic with awesome face tattoos in space. Look at her. She is perfect.

Thoughts and Probably Overly-Thorough Analysis on Adaptation in ‘Murderbot’ Episodes 1 and 2

After discussing adapting a very internal book series to the screen in this post, I was excited to actually get to watch how the show tackled visually trying to tell the story, especially given that the episodes are only approximately 30 minutes long.  That is TIGHT, and requires some tight scripting to establish the world, the characters, and the stakes. 

So, non-spoiler thoughts above the cut: I liked it!  I feel like the vibe is right, while changing some necessary things to better establish the world and several important concepts for non-readers.  The first scene felt a little clunky as far as pacing/info-dumping/character intro went, but after that I do feel like the pace evened out into something I genuinely found enjoyable.  There is a lot of effort to start defining cultures, concepts, and characters, and by and large I think it succeeded.  I have a few changes I might question, but we’re way too early in the season for me to feel comfortable judging them.  So overall, as someone who has read the books and enjoys seeing how things have to change to adapt to a different storytelling medium?  I think it’s overall successful, particularly as the first two episodes are clearly the setup episodes (almost always the hardest episodes to really nail during adaptation). 

If you’re looking for a 1:1 translation of the books, and if you’re really sensitive to changing the original, this is probably not going to be the show for you.  Luckily, there are great books and audiobooks still there for you!  But if you’re open to the changes, if your vision of these books and these character is flexible and you might even be excited to see a different version than the one already told, you will hopefully find it as fun a ride as I did.

By the end of episode two, particularly after some really great scenes featuring Alexander Skarsgard (whose portrayal of Murderbot completely won me over) and David Dastmalchian (Gurathin was always one of my favorites, and he is doing such interesting things to deepen the character), I am hooked.

More spoilery thoughts on the episodes below!

So, what do you have to do in intro episodes?  You have to introduce characters, situation and, in speculative fiction, also concepts and setting.  And for half-hour sci-fi episodes you’re almost certainly requiring a lot of shorthand, a lot of quick ways to get information across, a lot of info in as little time as possible.  Both of the first episodes dropped at once, and that’s honestly good, because they more or less function as the introductory two-parter before the action kicks off. 

The pacing is fairly leisurely, focused on introducing us to the world, the characters, and how they got to the place they are for the story.  And even after the intros, I do feel like we will probably be devoting more time to giving some of the more underserved characters more expansive moments.  But for having to do a lot in about an hour’s worth of television, I think they accomplished what they set out to do with fairly minimal clunkiness.

S1E1: ‘FreeCommerce’

That said the initial scene is a bit clunky.  I get why it was necessary.  We have to establish several big concepts in a hurry: what a SecUnit is, what they are generally used for, a sense of the Corporation Rim, and the hacked governor module that lies as the basis of the whole story going forward.  Those are big sci-fi concepts to front-load, and I do think the scene could have maybe taken one more pass through editing to not make it feel quite so rushed (a few pauses and beats here and there would have been appreciated), but I also understand that the sense was likely to get the information dump over quickly to get on with the story.  So, less elegant than one might hope, but not a deal-breaker by any means.  Information conveyed, moving on.

The introduction to the PresAux team, in my opinion, goes a lot better.  Largely because the writers play it out over multiple scenes and scenarios, giving us perspectives on these characters in three very different situations (at Port FreeCommerce, setting up their base, and facing their first real threat in the story).  I think hard-cutting to the actual beginning of ‘All Systems Red’ briefly, before flashing back to show the team having to rent Murderbot is a great choice.  We get the nod to the book-readers for the in medias res cold open of ‘All Systems Red’, while still going back to help the non-readers really understand who these people are and how they got here.

Playing up the hippie vibes of the team is smart visual and storytelling shorthand.  We immediately get a good sense that they don’t quite fit in with the Corporation Rim.  I love that it’s pointed out that their clothing is hand made, that there are patterns and textures, that there is jewelry and accessories and fun bags.  Put that against the Company’s sales reps’ tech-bro synthetic aesthetics, and it works!  My one wish would have been that the sales reps were all a little more artificially hot, to really drive home how unmakeuped and natural the PresAux team looks.  But still, a solid contrast to let us know that these are not your usual group of spacefarers.

And it continues throughout negotiations, leading up to the humming consesus circle.  Again, I think this is a great choice, because it serves multiple purposes all at once.  We can feel how different their society is to the one that Murderbot understands, and even sets them apart from our culture, which unfortunately is a lot more like Corporation Rim culture than Preservation. 

And this, I think, is why amplifying the hippie commune vibes of these characters is such a great choice: we as the audience are mostly in Murderbot’s head, so PresAux comes off the way that it initially sees them.  They seem weird, quirky, naive.  And yet, I believe that throughout the series both Murderbot and we will have our expectations challenged.  Why can’t people be emotionally open, trusting, and kind, even be fairly far-out and kooky, and still be highly competent, intelligent individuals who manage to hold their own under difficult circumstances.  In our own particular cultural moment, earnestness and emotional openness and the general hopeful and sweet vibes of the Preservation team is viewed as “cringe”.  I think there are probably going to be some viewers who look at them and want them to be some cool, cynical rebel college communists rather than drum-circle having hippies who love decorating their surroundings, embroidering, and jewelry making.  But I am very hopeful that, over the course of the season, we are shown how much their culture of openness, trust, and kindness can be a strength.  We might be asked to confront our own biases against earnestness and ‘quirkiness’, which could blind us to how competent these people are, much as Murderbot itself was initially blinded.

The scene on Port FreeCommerce serves as our introduction to the vibes of at least some of the individual members of PresAux as well.  Pin-Lee is running point in negotiations, so we know they’re someone who either has negotiating, business, or legal expertise (something that is difficult to establish through the rest of the story).  Dr. Mensah is clearly in charge, but has no desire to make unilateral decisions.  She takes other opinions into account (even if she ultimately disagrees with them), states her philosophical and moral objections to SecUnits clearly, but still acts as a realist: if they are going to do this survey, they have to cooperate with the Company.  The hellish compromise.

But because the whole team essentially has to compromise their morals and ethics to do this survey the way that the Company is insisting it get done (renting what is essentially mandatory slave labor), she makes sure that her entire team agrees with her before signing their contact.  We see that the team is very cooperative, but Gurathin is a bit of an awkward outsider (though immediately invited to be an insider by Ratthi, so we also get a sense of his open and warm nature), although at this point in the episode we don’t know why he doesn’t seem to fit as seamlessly as the others.

Moving to the survey planet and the team’s habitat is also a scene that pulls a lot of multilayered weight.  It establishes all the important components of the habitat, it establishes Murderbot’s disgust of human bodily functions, and further expands on the team and how Muderbot responds to them.  These are important moments because these are the initial impressions that will go on to be confirmed or subverted throughout the season.  While it’s a bit on the nose to just do a verbal intro of everyone, it’s also a good use of time in a 30-minute episode to just get everyone’s names out there, base-level relationships, jobs, and at least one individual facet of them (Mensah has 80 million seven children, Arada and Pin-Lee are married but might be going through a bit of a rough patch, Ratthi flirts with All The Things, Gurathin is an augmented human, and Bharadwaj is hoarding soap for unknown reasons).  We see them decorating their habitat, growing plants inside, playing music (again, more cultural establishment and ways of making both Murderbot and the audience initially confused by this bunch), and being … really sweet with one another, honestly.  I felt immediately endeared to them and wanted to know more (why are you hoarding soap, Bharadwaj??).  We get tiny character beats like Arada running up the stairs to call dibs on rooms, followed by Ratthi and Pin-Lee, and we get a moment of Pin-Lee pausing as they run past SecUnit to smile at it and seem to try to engage with it, if only briefly.  We get Ratthi painting the habitat, and Gurathin fretting over if the paint washes off (they’re never getting their deposit back …).

We also get that Murderbot Does Not Want to Be Here, and see it grappling with humanity as a whole.  It seems to find actual human relationships offputting and confusing, but loves the melodramatic interpretations of relationships on ‘Sanctuary Moon’.  Reality makes it deeply uncomfortable, but unreality has become its comfort and what it mostly spends its time focused on.  Through its avoidance of them and their oddities, we get a sense both of its fear of being found out, and we get a Chekhov’s gun of emotional attachment.  It doesn’t want it, but it’s also deeply fascinated by its facsimile.  And given how open and loving this group seems to be in general (with one notable and delightfully bitchy exception, love you Gurathin), we can already see how it’s going to be loved whether it wants to be or not.

The final establishment of character, situation, and place, occurs with the return to the cold open of ‘All Systems Red’, now armed with enough information to actually care at least somewhat when Bharadwaj gets attacked by the worm, as well as somewhat understanding why she and Arada might initially not listen to the SecUnit (they know it’s refurbished and all the rest of their Company equipment is a bit shit, they’re scientists excited about their work, the planet was rated safe). 

The worm attack works fairly well.  The CG of Murderbot jumping down feels a bit floaty, but as soon as it closes in for combat the visual effects are on point, and the pacing of the scene is frantic and fun.  The use of the ‘Sanctuary Moon’ clip to give Murderbot a means of trying to comfort Arada to get her walking was great, and it was really this scene that sold me on Alexander Skarsgard as Murderbot.  After hearing its snarky internal monologue, hearing the awkwardness of its actual attempts at a social interaction is delightful!  Internal-Monologue!Murderbot is quippy and witty and sarcastic.  Outside!SecUnit is awkwardness and social anxiety personified.  And I feel like this disconnect can really hit home for a lot of people with bad social anxiety. 

This is also important to establish the initial character reactions to a majorly tramatic and shocking moment for them.  Arada goes into shock, but after that gets forceful and defensive of both SecUnit and her field of study (her lines about animals were actually great, and really set her apart in her own unique way). 

Pin-Lee demands action.  They can get loud and abrasive, and they clearly need to have control over their circumstances or they start to get very twitchy, but they are also caring, careful to correct themself when they say something that could be genuinely insulting. 

Ratthi is concerned for everyone, but also has a base-level chill nature that means he can’t stay worked up to the intensity that others can.  It makes him a sweet and leveling presence in tense scenes. 

Gurathin has to be useful.  He preps the medbay.  He stays with Bharadwaj until she wakes up, monitoring her vitals and the equipment, even though there isn’t much he can do.  But the equipment is his thing.  The tech is his thing, and he’s going to make it work.  Which is why, of course, he’s also the first to notice something is off with their SecUnit.  Not only is he focused on the equipment (and at this point viewing SecUnit more as faulty equipment than a person), but we find out that he’s the only one of the team who might have actually had prior experience with SecUnits, and whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

Mensah stays cool under fire, staying at the heart of the discussion while taking everyone’s thoughts and feelings into account.  She keeps everyone directed, focused, and calm.  And then, when she is alone, she falls apart, slipping into a full-blown panic attack over almost losing Bharadwaj.  And honestly?  I love them giving her a panic disorder.  Giving a character a panic disorder while still showing that she is competent, a respected leader, and tries her damndest to push through the panic to reassure and care for her people is a lovely touch. 

With these three data points we actually get a good baseline for these characters in their element, out of their element, and in danger.  They already feel human and flawed, despite not knowing any of them deeply yet.  It also means that we’re already able to read more into their interactions than Murderbot is grasping quite yet.  After all, it’s not great at this social thing, and it REALLY doesn’t get them and their culture.

This gets highlighted when it has to come out and talk to the team out of its armor.  Again, Alexander Skarsgard does a fantastic job of radiating the incredible social anxiety of a being that would vastly prefer to only ever have to interact with other people safely behind a helmet.  Being so exposed, with its feet and its face and its hands all on gangly display in one of the crew jumpsuits, is so clearly an existential nightmare to it.  And the more most of the team try to thank it, welcome it, treat it like a person, the more uncomfortable it becomes.  The speech is hilarious, but also a great bit of disconnect between its social comfort zone and that of the Preservation team.  And in that moment, we realize that, even if some of them are trying to embrace it, to invite it to be more integrated with them, to give it a chance, they understand Muderbot as little as Murderbot understands them.

I have seen some people not liking part of this scene because Arada misgenders Murderbot by calling it ‘he’, but I think this is actually an important part of character building for her, Murderbot, and the story.  My guess is that the writers are going to Rule Of Threes Murderbot’s pronouns, as many viewers have likely never encountered someone who uses it/its pronouns.  This scene serves as the Introduction: Arada is well-meaning, but accidentally misgenders it because she is reacting to the face she saw (as many well-meaning people can do).  Gurathin immediately and vehemently corrects her … for the wrong reasons.  He’s thinking of their SecUnit as a malfunctioning piece of equipment, while Arada is thinking of it as a human, so he is dehumanizing it.  They are both wrong, but also both a bit right.  Arada is right that Murderbot is a person, but she is wrong in immediately defaulting to Human Male when she thinks of it.  Gurathin is right in that it has no interest in being human and is, in fact, quite attached to being a construct and having no gender, but he’s wrong in treating it as equipment.  I imagine that, per the Rule of Threes, this topic will be Reinforced later, and then Confirmed in a final scene so the audience learns its pronouns properly, even audience members who might initially struggle to use the right pronouns or do the same as Arada by seeing Alexander Skarsgard and making assumptions.

And speaking of assumptions, the audience also gets its first hint that perhaps ‘Murderbot’ wasn’t simply a cool name it plucked out of the aether, but ties much more intensely into the fragments of memories it has.  We find out that SecUnits are routinely memory wiped, but a few seconds of something awful have leaked through.  It sees people screaming, running, and dying, and it has the feeling it might be responsible.  And despite its general misanthrope, it doesn’t seem at all pleased by this memory.  If anything, it seems horrified.  It’s one thing to idly speculate about killing humans, but another to realize it might well have already done precisely what all the SecUnits on the entertainment feeds do: go crazy and kill all its clients.

Introducing that memory and then having a one-on-one with Mensah is an interesting choice, because it adds layers to the scene.  She is clearly trying to thank it again, maybe reach out, but she’s also trying to figure out what’s happening with her clearly incredibly anxious SecUnit.  It’s terrified she suspects it’s hacked its governor module, but it’s also afraid she’s getting attached, which could be worse.  After all, if it’s done something awful once, there’s nothing stopping it from doing so again. 

The memories keep playing even after she leaves, and it says the same line it lifted from ‘Sanctuary Moon’ to itself: “Stay calm; it’ll be okay.  You have my word.”  It’s honestly creepy, and it’s clearly meant for the audience to read this initially as a threat to the scientists.  But looking at it again, considering how traumatized it seems to be by this fragmented memory, the line takes on an almost self-soothing quality.  Is it speaking to the people in its memory?  The PresAux team?  Itself? 

The first episode does a workmanlike and occasionally inspired job of introducing us to all the things it needed to.  And for all that this first episode is fairly direct in its storytelling, I feel like there are layers that will feel deeper on future viewing after the whole season is out.

S1E2: ‘Eye Contact’

The second half of our introduction to this show had two major jobs: reinforce themes from the first episode, deepen character beats, and get us to the point where the plot kicks off.  The show does this by splitting the episode into two subplots that both kick off with the opening scene.

We open in the hopper, and it’s clear from the first scene that this episode will, at least in part, focus on better establishing and characterizing Gurathin.  I’m hoping each of the characters gets this treatment going forward, because I really have to commend the episode for how much we learn about him throughout.  There are a lot of layers at play, both in the writing of his character and in David Dastmalchian’s performance.  This is a guy with anxiety to rival Murderbot’s, even if he can cover it better.  He’s trying to keep their conversation out of its purview, because he doesn’t trust it.  He doesn’t trust anyone outside of this small friend group he’s got, and he especially doesn’t trust anything coming from the Company.  And even though the group thinks he’s being overly paranoid, it’s really nice to see how immediately they confirm that he has good reasons for not trusting the Company, and they all love him (and Ratthi calls him “Gugu”, which … chef’s kiss).  We now get our first big hint of what makes him the outsider of the group: he’s not originally from Preservation.  As we learn later, he’s almost certainly originally from the Corporation Rim, and whatever happened to him there has fucked him up badly.

Mensah once again comes in as the tempering force.  She mentions her conversation with SecUnit.  She wanted to see if she could trust it, and she FEELS like she can, but THINKS they should be cautious.  I like this slight change from the books, as all the Preservation natives feel the immediate desire to trust and befriend SecUnit, but in this they are a bit more cautious because they aren’t certain if they can trust anything supplied by the Company. 

I think this is the benefit of the visual medium expanding out the story.  After all, while the audience is able to hear all of Murderbot’s internal snark, they only get the anxiety-ridden, clearly atypical external SecUnit.  And even if some of them are now seeing it as a person, they are also seeing that it works for a deeply untrustworthy company that may or may not be deceiving them.  So with the information and experiences they currently have, Gurathin is making a reasonable argument for leaving the SecUnit behind. 

And from a storytelling perspective, it makes sense to leave it behind.  It would be easy for this episode to feel like it was retreading the worm incident from the first episode, but having Mensah and Bharadwaj decide to go alone to survey the blacked out area in the map makes the stakes very different. 

And speaking of, though we don’t get a lot of time with her, I am LOVING Bharadwaj.  The actress is hilarious, particularly when the character is clearly high as balls on stimulants and pain meds is just fantastic.  I also love her little moment later of academic one-upsmanship.  Having known so many academics in my life, that was the most real moment of academic bullshit so far.  I cackled!

Their plot is primarily used to reestablish Bharadwaj, and to get Mensah into a dangerous situation (and honestly, I don’t think she should have gone alone trying to climb a fucking mountain, but whatever).  She ends up having another panic attack, and it’s a good beat to see her trying to force her way through it.  She doesn’t want to let the team down.  Even while she’s spiraling she’s trying to be so supportive and encouraging to her team.  I like that she doesn’t handle this situation perfectly.  I like that she struggles and sort of fails, and still keeps pushing.  One of the things the show has been consistently good at is giving the characters very relatable flaws.  She takes her role so seriously she’s going to put herself through hell to see it done, all while trying to mask how bad it’s getting in front of the people she cares about.  This is a good way of reinforcing what we learned about her in the last episode, and setting up an emotional arc for her.

And speaking of setting up emotional arcs, let’s talk about Murderbot and Gurathin, or what I like to call The Best Scenes in the Show So Far Holy Shit.

The scenes between them function on so many levels: comedy, drama, character development, worldbuilding.  We have it all right here!  Major concepts that will be important later (ComfortUnits, Corporation Rim vs Preservation culture) are established quickly and with deliberate discomfort for both characters.  Gurathin weaponizes Murderbot’s deep discomfort with eye contact and social interaction to try to interrogate it and figure out what’s gone wrong, but it doesn’t really go the way either of them wants it to go, because both of them are socially awkward disasters; both of them have conflicting motivations and desires; both of them don’t understand one another and understand one another way, WAY too well.

This leads to scenes that can be interpreted on multiple levels, all while setting up some meaty stakes.  Both characters are trying to do multiple things at once, and it’s really fun to see how well or poorly they succeed.  Gurathin definitely set up the scene to be at least a bit intimidating … and promptly fumbles it when he realizes that his chair isn’t a swivel chair and he can’t turn and do a cool reveal, but instead drags it around, scraping along the floor.  And honestly, part of him not only can’t be intimidating, but doesn’t want to be.  Part of him wants to understand this incredibly awkward being he’s now sharing space with.  There is a weird earnestness, almost a stream-of-consciousness strangeness to the way Gurathin is written in this scene that I adore, and that David Dastmalchian absolutely nails.  He seems even weirder than Murderbot in his own way.

They’re both such messes, and both ready to needle the shit out of one another.  Gurathin, especially, is clearly trying to provoke reactions, to test boundaries.  It’s almost like he’s conducting a stress test on a computer system, but with a sentient being instead, and his life potentially on the line.  He questions Murderbot about its capacity for emotion, for connection, by comparing it to ComfortUnits, but because, again, this is an interrogation conducted by and to the two most cripplingly awkward beings on the hab, it half comes off like he’s hitting on it.

And then there’s the reason for the episode title, and something that is both a deeply dirty trick on Gurathin’s part, and an absolute red flag waved in front of a bull.  He orders (likely suspecting that this SecUnit might be capable of disobeying orders) that they maintain eye contact throughout this interaction. 

And I think that red flag in front of a bull is the other level he’s trying to work at in this scene.  This is a systems stress test, trying to tease out what is happening and where what he sees as a malfunction lies.  But he’s also painting himself as a target.  He’s pulling out every nasty trick in the book to make sure that, if this SecUnit really is rogue and really is going to go on a killing spree, it doesn’t go after anyone but him.  Because as was established in the opening scene: Gurathin may be a paranoid dick, but he loves his weird extrovert friends so, so deeply, and he would absolutely die to protect them.

Because Gurathin, above all things, needs to feel useful.

Murderbot is trying to dodge questions, trying not to give anything away.  It’s trying to bear up under the sheer painful amount of eye contact required, and it’s trying to get Gurathin back (you make me look you in the eye?  I’ll make you see your friends making out with one another!).  And the funniest thing is that they’re basically just inflicting on the other what they already find uncomfortable.  Again and again, they parallel one another.  It was established twice last episode and hammered home now.

And at the same time, there is a weirdly heart-to-heart quality to this interaction.  Because as much as Gurathin is trying to be a hardass, and as much as Murderbot is trying to shut this interaction down as quickly as possible, Gurathin is also just trying to understand, and Murderbot can’t help but explain itself a bit.  It’s the awful moment of sympathy with someone you loath because they’re far too much like you, but you just keep reaching out.  And that layer of earnestness, of accidental vulnerability on both of their parts, adds such a lovely, bizarre tinge of sweetness to what is otherwise a fairly brutal encounter for both of them.

The choices in this scene are what sold me on the show, from the storytelling to the writing to the performances.  The actors fucking kill this scene.  Alexander Skarsgard gets to do a lot of subtle facial expressions as the internal snarky narration struggles to emerge under its facade of calm, and its deep levels of social anxiety keep kneecapping it from fully extracting itself from the conversation or getting the upper hand.  And David Dastmalchian brings all the conflicting motivations, all the half-aborted gestures of hostility and kindness and awkwardness and paranoia through to make Gurathin feel desperately, earnestly human.  I really can’t say enough about their performances; they bounce off one another fantastically.

And of course, these two storylines dovetail at the end of the episode as Mensah finds the Alien Remnant (really cool use of visual effects there!), almost gets eaten by a worm, and everyone realizes that either the maps are glitching out due to the Remnants’ influence, or someone is deliberately hiding them.  They try to confer with the other survey team currently on the planet, a small group from a company called DeltFall, but something is wrong.  And as the episode closes with bodies strewn over the darkened DeltFall habitat, I think we’re about to see the plot kick into gear.

Conclusions

So, what did I think about the first two episodes overall?  They were solid.  I want more establishing time with quite a few of the characters (Bharadwaj, Ratthi, Pin-Lee, and Arada especially), but episode two in particular made me confident this show is going fun places.  Because the scenes between Murderbot and Gurathin were added for the show; this is new material, and it’s exactly the sort of thing I was hoping we would get from an adaptation.  Those scenes struck the perfect blend of humor and danger and sincerity and anger that I read in the books.  That was what convinced me that the show really could pull off something new and fun and fresh both as an adaptation of a series of books I enjoy, and as a piece of science fiction media that feels defiantly hopeful and colorful and weird in the face of a fairly bleak and depressing sci-fi television landscape. 

Like I said before, doing set-up episodes is incredibly hard to do gracefully in television, and doing sci-fi setup where you’re having to explain places, politics, and concepts as well as characters and situations, is even more challenging.  And you’ve got two half-hour time slots to do it in.  And with those limitations in mind, I feel like the show currently ranges from Gets-the-Job-Done-Inelegantly-but-Fine to Holy-Shit-I-Want-to-See-More-of-That-Right-Now. 

I want to get to know all these weirdos on the same intense level I now feel we know Murderbot and Gurathin, and I feel like we will.  Will it be the perfect show?  No.  It will not.  Have I still watched both of these episodes multiple times, and am I super excited to see DeltFall and how much things are about to go to shit?  Oh hell yes.  I am so excited!

So, yes.  There are my scattered thought about this adaptation, where it mostly succeeds and occasionally feels clunky.  The cast is charming and occasionally electric, and I am eager to see more.

[elainsgirl]

you know what I find is so insane? That none of the GAs ever think why did Gwyn get so much screentime when Azriel already has a li. They make all their interactions romantic but what's so obvious is that Gwyn's character is being set up for something and personally I think she will die.

Every single of the 759 books I've read if any side kick is getting so much time they end up dead in the same book or next and it will be meaningful for not only Nesta but Azriel as well.

Azriel feels proud of her and she's like Nesta's sister. So if something happened to her and she dies it will be meaningful and contribute to their character growth. Or maybe she's unknowingly do something bad from from which they'll save her but her being Azriels li is not even possible if you actually read the book without hating elain.

Yep. Azriels love interest wouldn’t be introduced in a standalone sequel novel especially when Mass emphasised that importance of foreshadowing in acowar and acofas in regards to the sequels, if Gwyn and Az were meant to be, she would have been mentioned or even introduced in acowar and if not there, then acofas. She was introduced in neither books which goes to show how irrelevant her character in regards to being a love interest.

Gwynriel shared no romantic scenes, no tension-filled scenes and there attraction wasn’t confirmed in simple terms - they do not fit the criteria for how Sjm foreshadows a couple/writes the couple prior to their book.

someone theorised that Gwyn is to Nesta what Asterin was to Manon and how G may potentially die for the greater good such as fighting during the war (if there is one) and honestly Im torn because I cant see Sjm breaking up the valkryies and it would be cruel towards Nesta YET Gwyn is the perfect character to kill off. She isn’t relevant enough for any plot. She was the perfect, flawless loveable side character whose death would bring emotional impact towards readers. But again, im not too sure because Sjm does want each book to end on a happy note. Killing off someone Nesta considers a sister doesn’t scream happy ending but ig it comes down to how its written.

Yh anon, with the books I read - side characters that get a lot of focus, end up dead in the following books especially once they’ve had that heart to heart talk that matters to the FMC changing her in some way. I wouldn’t say Gwyns death would be shocking to me personally, lowkey expected from the genre but then I think this is just sequels that leave everyone happy. This technique would be used for the main triology which is the acotar series and it has been used. The suriel died and then you had Amren and Rhys -> all scenes created emotional punches for the readers.

If Gwyn does die - like I said it would in a very special “for a better world!” Way. Nesta and Emerie would carry on her legacy, Gwyns story of bravery and strength would be told to future generations as motivation to become like her. Ig it just depends on how the following books go.

but absolutely, she isn’t a love interest for Azriel especially in canon.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

A Princess & Her Knight ~ 10

A PRINCESS & HER KNIGHT MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,200ish

Summary: You head to Dolad and don't make an impressive first impression.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

The gates of the Dolad castle stood like iron teeth, glinting under the gray sky. Dozens of guards in silver and crimson uniforms lined the courtyard, standing at perfect attention. Banners flapped softly in the wind— long strips adorned with the crest of House Lehnsherr.

The carriage pulled to a halt in front of wide marble steps, where a crowd of courtiers and officials stood watching. Eyes sharp. Dresses impeccable. Faces unreadable. 

You exhaled slowly, gloved hands tight in your lap. Peter leaned forward, peering out the window with the lazy interest of a man returning to something he already owned. 

“Smile, if you can manage it,” he suggested. “They prefer their queens polished.”

You didn’t reply. The door opened and a footman bowed. You stepped down carefully, gathering your skirts. The wind caught the hem slightly— just enough to throw off your balance. And then your heel caught. The marble step was slick. Your ankle tested, your foot slipping forward. Your body jolted as your balance gave way.

Gasps rippled through the Dolad court. And Peter— still in the carriage— moved only slightly, eyebrows rising. But before your hands hit the stone— Logan was there. He stepped from his horse without hesitation, coat sweeping behind him, and caught you just under the arms, steadying you before the full fall could land. You were suddenly pressed against him— his body solid, warm despite the cool breeze. His hands were firm but careful, like he was afraid you’d shatter.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, only for you to hear.

Your breath trembled as you blinked up at him. The whispers were already beginning.

Did she trip? Who is that man? Was that the guard? Is that the same man she danced with at the ball?

Peter finally exited the carriage, adjusting his collar with the hold disapproval of someone watching someone else make a mistake. “Unfortunate start,” he commented.

Logan’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. You straightened yourself, gently stepping back from Logan. Your eyes reminded steady as you turned to face the Dolad court. You didn’t smile, but lifted your chin.

“Thank you for your patience,” you told them. “It’s been a long journey.”

The murmurs quieted. The court watched, eyes calculating. From the top of the steps, Queen Raven stepped forward, her expression cool but composed.

“Then let’s see if the rest of your stay is more graceful,” she commented.

Logan stepped further back, returning to his regular position behind you. But you could feel the fire of his gaze fixed on Peter. He hadn’t moved. He hadn’t caught you. And Logan was wondering if he ever would.

~~~

You were led to your room to rest almost immediately. They told you that dinner would be brought to you and that you’d resume your visit in the morning. You stood near the window, arms crossed tightly over your chest, cloak still on. You hadn’t removed it since arriving. Since the stumble. Since the whispers.

Logan stood near the door, silent, eyes fixed not he floor as if trying to hold his anger in place with the weight of his boots. The silence between you had stretched too long.

“You shouldn’t have caught me,” you broke first.

Logan looked up slowly. “What?”

“You should’ve let Peter do it. He was right there.”

Logan scoffed. Quiet, bitter. “He wasn’t right there. He stayed in the damn carriage.”

You turned to face him fully. “The court thinks you are the one I rely on. I am supposed to rely on him. You made me look—“

“I made you look like someone who didn’t hit the ground.”

“You don’t get it.”

Logan stepped forward. “I do get it. You’re trying to prove something— to them, to him, to yourself. I know what this trip is. I know the stakes. But I wasn’t going to stand there and watch you fall on your face just so some prince could look better picking you up after the fact.”

You turned your eyes away, jaw clenched. “You made it worse.”

“No, he did. Because the second you stumbled, he sat back and watched like you were someone else’s problem.”

You looked back at him, voice shaking slightly— not from weakness, but from the pressure mounting against you.  “That’s what I am now. Someone else’s problem. Someone else’s future. I have to make this work, Logan. You can’t keep catching me. Both courts are already wondering if I am worthy of the crown, and these moments do not help.”

Logan’s face shifted— like something cracked in his jaw, but he kept it together. “I didn’t catch you because I wanted to be seen. I caught you because no one else moved. Because I promised to protect you and I couldn’t let you fall… I would never let you fall.”

You sighed. “I know.”

Logan ran a hand down his face, turned toward the door, and paused with his back to you. “Next time, I’ll wait. I’ll let him try.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then I won’t wait long.”

And with that, he stepped outside— closing the door behind him so gently, it was worse than a slam.

~~~

You didn’t get much sleep that night. Your thoughts clouded with Logan and all the pressure that was being put on you by two kingdoms. 

The morning air was cool, the Dolad gardens shaded by tall hedges and quiet fountains. The castle walls loomed not far beyond, but here, it felt like a world apart— cut off, curated, and controlled.

A servant led you to a small iron table tucked beneath a flowering pergola. Wanda was already seated, pouring dark tea into porcelain cups with precise, elegant motions. She didn’t stand when you arrived. Just looked up, her expression unreadable.

“I was wondering if you’d actually show,” she commented.

You settled into the seat across from her. “I didn’t know I had the option.”

Her lips twitched— something between amusement and approval. “You don’t. But it’s polite to pretend.”

She passed you a cup without asking how you took it. The silence lingered as the two of you took sips of your tea.

“That stumble yesterday sure didn’t help your case,” Wanda stated, finally breaking the tension.

“I’m sure you enjoyed watching it.”

“Not particularly. If you’re going to be my sister-in-law, I’d prefer you didn’t fall apart in public and embarrass the family.”

“Then maybe speak with your brother about stepping in to help me.”

“Peter was raised to lead. Not to catch. We were taught not to move unless absolutely necessary. Appearances, after all.”

You set your cup down carefully, maintaining eye contact. “And how were you raised?”

“To watch. To remember who moved when it mattered.”

You glanced around briefly, realizing that two of you were utterly alone “This isn’t just tea,” you stated.

“You’re catching on,” Wanda smirked. “And no, this isn’t. This is me deciding what I think of you.”

“And?”

“You’re angry. Trapped. Smarter than most expect. You clearly were too free until very recently and you are not nearly cautious enough.”

“Caution doesn’t stop people like my aunt from setting traps. Or your brother from letting me fall.”

“No. But it keeps people like me from having to clean up after it.” Wanda set her own cup down and made sure she held your focus. “Be careful around Peter. But I don’t need to tell you that.”

“No. You don’t.”

“He’ll never love you. But he’ll protect you if it benefits him. And he’ll sacrifice you even quicker.”

“Why help me?”

“Because it might be useful to have someone here who owes me a favor.”

“So this is diplomacy.”

“This is survival.” She stood up. “Next time, don’t fall.” She turned to head into the garden.

“Next time, maybe someone will catch me.”

She paused and turned her head to look at you. “Someone did. That’s the problem.” Then she disappeared into the garden.

~~~

The hallway outside your guest quarters was quiet, too quiet. Logan stood just outside your door, arms crossed, every muscle tense. He’d been watching you pull away since the moment he caught you on the steps. Last night’s fight only made it worse. And then this morning, you walked past him on your way to tea with Wanda, offering only a tight nod and not a single word? That was it. He tried to follow you, but was quickly told by some stewards that this was a private meeting. 

Then you were swept up into the chaos of getting to know Dolad, the royals, and its people. He eventually figured out your schedule, whether you were hiding it from him or others, and stayed in the shadows until after dinner, when he slipped back to your quarters.

Logan couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but you’d grown distant in a way that wasn’t just strategy. It felt like punishment. For something he didn’t remember doing— something more than the last few days when he’s saved you. When the door opened and you stepped inside, you didn’t even meet his eye.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Logan stated quietly, getting to the point.

You froze, just for a second, then turned, keeping your expression neutral. “I’ve been busy,” you replied. “I have a lot to learn about this kingdom and not a lot of time to do it in.”

“That’s not what I said.”

You didn’t answer. You moved to the window, fingers tugging at your dress like it would give you something else to focus on.

“You know,” Logan took a step closer, “I used to be more than a shadow. I was someone you annoyed and talked to and forced to do your bidding. Now, I—“

“Don’t make this personal, Logan.”

“It feels personal, Princess.”

“Everything is political now. I don’t have room for anything else.”

“Then why does it seem to bother you when I’m near? Why do you not want me to do my job? Why—“

“Because I can’t think straight when you are near.” 

It slipped out before you could stop it. A beat passed. His eyes narrowed slightly. Not in victory, but confusion. Like he didn’t know what that meant either.

“I don’t mean to distract you,” he said.

“You don’t have to,” you replied. “It just happens.”

Silence settled between you, thick and unyielding. You didn’t understand why he made you feel so off-balance lately. And he didn’t understand why suddenly being shut out by you made him feel like he’d been gutted.

“I have to shut you out,” you continued. “I have to watch myself. The rumors… I have to be careful. If I treat you like more— like a friend, someone will notice.”

“Let them,” Logan said. “You need someone on your side here. There is something off.”

“You don’t understand the risk.”

“Then maybe I should’ve stayed in Westchester.”

You didn’t respond. The words hung between you, sharp as blades. He turned to go. 

“Logan,” your voice caused him to pause but not turn back around. “You… you’re more than just my Knight. You are my… my… friend. But I have to be careful of who they see me close with. Please understand.”

Logan didn’t respond, just opened the door and left the room. The room immediately felt empty. Not because you were alone. But because he was gone.

~~~

You couldn’t sleep again. Too busy thinking about Logan. He hadn’t returned since he left. You were changed into your nightgown and robe, sitting on the small couch in your guest quarters. There came a knock at your door. It was soft. It was too late to be a servant, too confident to be accidental. You stood slowly, heart tightening. Another knock.

“Princess,” it was Peter, voice low and unmistakably smooth. “May I come in?”

You hesitated. He didn’t sound drunk. He didn’t sound desperate. You went over and opened the door a few inches. Peter stood there in a dark coat, hair still neatly in place, hands clasped loosely in front of him.

“It’s the middle of the night,” you told him.

“And yet, it’s clear that we both are unable to sleep,” he replied. You didn’t move. He leaned slightly forward. “I thought perhaps we could speak. In private. Since that seems to be such a rarity between us.”

You knew what this looked like. Exactly what it looked like. And he knew you knew.

“If you walk through this door, the court will assume we’ve already sealed the arrangement,” you said quietly.

“And that brothers you?” He questioned.

“It should bother you.”

He offered a small smile. “On the contrary. A public assumption of intimacy puts us both in a position of strength. Especially with the rumors of you and your Knight floating around.”

“Why are you really here?”

“Because I want to know the woman I’ll share a throne with. And because if I don’t make a move soon, I suspect that someone else will.”

  That last line wasn’t said with fire. It was said like strategy. He wasn’t jealous. He was calculating. You opened the door a little wider— but didn’t step aside.

“Ten minutes,” you finally said. “On the couch. You don’t touch anything.”

Peter chuckled softly. “Understood.”

next chapter >

[doctorgirlsblog]

Ghost From The Past (MV x OC!)

Chapter 6: Seal The Deal

Note: @kinzy-shelby you requested to heal u next chap, so i did 🤍

Max didn't cry. Never, no. Not when his father yelled at him when he was just a kid in a kart, not when he scraped his knees raw, not when he was left behind. Max didn't cry when Lily was born. Max was strong. For himself, for his family, for the expectations.

Max didn't cry when he found out his legs didn't function anymore. Or that they might never again.

But as kept looking at the photos in his hospital room, each one carefully described on the back with a date and the event it captured, something in Max broke. Four years of his life, four years of his daughter's life without him, four years of his career - all gone.

So he cried. He cried for all the lost years, for all the things he never dared to cry for. He cried for hours, until there were no more tears left to shed.

The last photo he held was almost ruined, edges crushed with years of longing and hidden pain. The one he managed to push away, again. The one he buried in himself, for the love of his father that never came in the end, for his career that was now over and done.

He didn't know that she had spent every single day of those four damn years beside him. Not until his mother told him, not until he broke down in her arms like a little boy all over again. Max was alone. Max was no longer adressed as a 4 - time world champion, no. He was a ghost of his own once celebrated career. No one wrote about it anymore, no one cared for that long. Life went on without him.

Max wanted to see Lily, desperately. But he didn't know how. So when the little girl walked into his room, hand in hand with Beatrice, a sob, raw and broken, tore out of his throat. Lily jumped onto his bed, her tiny arms wrapping around his shaky form. "Daddy is awake!" she yelled, giggling, and Beatrice couldn't help but smile softly at her joy.

Max held her close, not letting go, afraid that if he did, she would dissappear again from him and this new life he woke up to.

After what seemed like an eternity, his gaze finally landed on the figure still standing beside the door, leaning against the wall.

"Beatrice."

She nodded at him gently, still not moving.

"I'll leave you alone. I just brought Lily to see you."

"No! Don't go, please." He swallowed the lump forming in his throat. "I didn't mean it... I'm an idiot."

"You are." She smiled.

"You stayed."

"I did." She smiled again.

"Why?"

"Let's talk afterwards, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Lily finally left with her aunt, Beatrice stepped inside again, opting for the chair right beside his bed. Max kept looking at her, nervously playing with the edge of the blanket, not saying anything.

''So,'' she started, her eyes softly taking in his form, ''I guess I-''

''I'm sorry, Beatrice. For everything.'' His voice was thick with emotion. ''For hurting you, for making you feel unworthy and used when you were everything I ever wished for. I'm sorry for lying to you, for saying all those bad things. I'm sorry for leaving when you needed me the most. I'm sorry for pushing you away, again, even though you were the only one who stayed all these years. My career is done, I might never walk again, and I want you to know that I fucking love you, Bea. I never ever stopped loving you. And I'm yours. If you'll have me.''

Silence took over the room. He knew that it was a lot, but he had a feeling that if he didn't let it all out right now, he might become a stupid coward once again and push her away. Again. His hand somehow found hers in the meantime, squeezing it gently, eyes searching her wide ones.

''I..,'' she began slowly, clearing her throat. ''All I ever wanted from you, Max, was you. Not your fame, not your money, not the spotlight that followed you. I wanted you. All your good sides, all your bad sides, the messy, complicated whole of you. And then you broke up with me. Without uttering a single damn word. I was still a kid. So yes, I decided to do the same to you. Yes, I spent years building my career, fueled by the revenge and your downfall. Yes, Max, I wanted you to hurt like I did. God, I wanted you to burn.'' She let out a shallow laugh. ''But what I didn't count on, was burning myself in the process. When I walked away from you that day in the cafe, I didn't believe a single word that came out of your mouth. Then...then I found out about the...incident. And I needed to see you, just to..I needed to make sure you were alive. That's how much influence you had, still have over me.'' She let out a shaky breath.

Max opened his mouth ready to apologise again, but she stopped him with a gentle squeeze of his hand.

''No, Max. You need to hear this. You need to know. They told me you might never wake up again. And even if you did, there would be... consequences.'' Her gaze fell down to his legs, wrapped under the blanket. ''Yet the only thing that I heard, was that you might die believing that I hated you. I wished I did. God, this would be so much easier if I did. I wouldn't have spent the last four years, praying to a God I wasn't even sure I believed in, every single day that you would open those eyes again. So you could know, so I could finally tell you, that..that I don't hate you at all. That I never did. That I never will.'' She finally looked up and into his eyes, blue oceans swimming in unshed tears.

''I only hate how much I wish I didn't love you, Max'' she confessed, her voice barely a whisper, raw with a pain that mirrored his own. ''Because my life would be so much easier if I didn't.''

''I don't deserve you.'' he murmured softly, almost whispering, his gaze fixed on their intertwined hands.

''Deserve..'' she repeated softly, a sad smile touching her lips. ''Neither of us deserved the way things turned out, Max. All these years..they took their toll on both of us. Nothing else mattered the moment I thought you hadn't survived it.''

''Why, Bea?'' he asked, his voice barely a whisper. ''Why stay? Why not just...walk away? You had every right to.''

''Because, you idiot,'' she said as a small, watery laugh escaped her lips. ''Despite everything you put me through..I couldn't. Not like that. Because I watched as everyone else left, one by one. Because I couldn't do that to you, not after I found out you kept that photo beside your bed for all these years. Because I knew that you didn't lie. That you did love me.''

Before he managed to open his mouth again, Beatrice stood up abruptly, the chair screeching against the floor, and in the next instant, she was sitting beside him on the edge of the bed. Her hands, trembling slightly, cupped his bewildered face, her thumbs gently stroking his cheeks before she finally kissed him.

Time seemed to stop. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor beside the bed suddenly quickened as the kiss deepened, her fingers tangled in his already messy hair and his hands snaked around her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. Her body seemed to melt against his, a perfect fit, like two missing pieces of puzzle finally put together.

She was the first to pull away, resting her forehead against his and letting out a shaky breath. His eyes remained closed, his hands trembling slightly at the sides of her waist.

''I don't care if you never race another day in your life, Max,'' she whispered against his lips.

''I don't care if you never walk again. I'll be your race. I'll be your legs. I'll be right here, at your side. And we're going to make it through this. Together.''

When Max finally opened his eyes, they were bloodshot red from unshed tears, and her fingers instantly found their way to gently wipe the single one that managed to escape.

''No, no, no,'' she murmured, her voice soft but firm, her thumb tracing the curve of his cheek. ''I'm here, okay? I know that it's hard, Max, I do. But you'll win this battle. I know you will. You just won't have to face it alone, ever again.''

He reached for her hand, his grip firm despite the tremor that still ran through him.

''Okay,'' he said, his voice stronger this time. ''I'll get better, Bea. For you. I promise.''

''Good. Because you, mister, need a change of scenery. I'm taking you home. We're going to Miami.''

"Miami?!"

Taglist: @r0nnsblog

[old-women-can-peg-me]

Red Wine Like Blood On The Carpet

Agatha Harkness X Reader

Tags: non-magical au, Professor Agatha, strap ons, pet names, degradation, teacher student relationship.

Summery:

All Professor Harkness needed was to go to the beach and find a pretty young thing with legs that went to heaven and forget about a certain student in her history of Witchcraft class. And that is exactly what she found, or so she thought.

A/N:

Definitely not based on a real life experience I had with an ex teacher.

To say Professor Agatha Harkness was worked up and frustrated was an understatement. Unbeknownst to you, you had been driving the older woman crazy, every time you stayed back after class to ask her questions and you would nervously chew on the lid of your pen or when you were in class and you would bite your lip as you thought about an answer. She had never thought about a student that way but there was something about you that just made her want to pin you against her desk and fuck you sensless. Agatha’s hands clenched around the steering wheel of her car as she pulled into a car park spot. She got out of the car and felt the heat beat down on her skin. It was hot, unbearably so, and she was looking forward to relaxing at the beach next to a pretty girl. As the white sand and water finally came into view Agatha’s eyes scanned the sand and they landed on a woman’s body. They had stunning, long, tanned legs that had a beautiful tattoo on her thigh, a skimpy, string bikini and big sunglasses that covered their eyes much like Agatha’s did. They were perfect for what she was needing.

“Is this spot taken?” A voice asked and you looked over to the woman.

You looked up and down her body, taking in her figure in the black bikini she was wearing.

“I don’t own the beach, sit,” you shrugged.

There was something about the woman that looked familiar, she reminded you of your teacher at uni and something about her drew you in. You watched as the woman set down her towel and you more than enjoyed the view of her ass as she did so.

“You’re very pretty,” you heard yourself say before you could think.

You thought you saw the woman smirk but it was hard to tell without seeing her eyes.

“Thank you darling,” she responded, she knew what she was doing, the game she was playing, “are you from around here?”

“Yeah, I’m going to university around here,” you told her, “what about you?”

She nodded, deciding it was better not to mention her job if you were still a uni student. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before the woman turned to you suddenly.

“Look at you darling, you’re burning up, let me put some lotion on you, your back at least,” she said.

You could have said no, you had put some on not long before she arrived, but something in your body told you to let her. You watched as she squirted some of the white sunscreen lotion onto her hands and looked at you expectantly. You rolled over onto your stomach and let her rub her hands over your skin. You didn’t miss the way her hands skimmed over your ass, pressing down lightly on the way to your legs. You hummed as her knuckles dug into the skin of your spine.

“You’re so tense,” she husked, her voice close to your ear, “let me help you relax darling,”

“Mhmm, please,” you said, leaning into her touch.

She chuckled into your ear, she had you right in her trap. You could feel a warm feeling in your stomach that had nothing to do with the heat the sun was providing.

“Want me to help you relax at mine?” She asked and you stiffened under her.

The flirting was fun and you knew she was going to lead to this but you weren’t expecting her to be so forward.

“Sure,” you said, deciding that this woman was too hot to pass up, “I caught the bus here so I’d have to ride with you,”

“Prefect,” she whispered into your ear before she began to pack up her things and you did the same.

The drive to her place was mostly silent bar your breathing as her hand rested on your thigh. You didn’t even know this woman’s name and yet you were going back to her place to have sex. By the time you had pulled up to her place and gotten inside her hands were on you and trying to get your bikini undone, she was successful and the top of it came undone and fell around your waist. Her face came closer to yours, her lips about to crash into yours but your sunglasses got there first. You both laughed and removed them. Your eyes went wide as you looked into very familiar blue eyes.

“Professor Harkness?” You said and your face went red as you covered up your chest.

“Y/n?” She said back, “Fuck,”

You had never heard the older woman swear before and you kind of wanted to hear it again. Everything in your head was telling you to turn around and leave and try and figure out what bus to catch to get home but some small voice in your head was telling you to keep going.

“I-I won’t tell people if you don’t,” you said, hoping that she would want to continue as well.

“You’re my student y/n, this, this isn’t appropriate,” she said but her eyes kept darting down to the parts of your chest that you couldn’t cover with just your arms.

She watched as you pushed yourself forward and moved your arms away from your chest, reaching for her face. You watched her eyes flick down to your chest again before you pulled her in for a kiss. Her lips were soft against yours and you felt her hands grab onto your waist as she pushed you back up against the wall. You squeaked into her mouth at the force of her push and you felt her smile against you. You felt her tongue swipe against your bottom lip and you gladly let her in, her resolve clearly gone as her hands moved up your sides to cup your breasts. You moaned into her mouth as her thumbs swept over your nipples.

“So responsive to me,” she mumbled against your lips, “follow me,”

Her hands found your wrists and she pulled you towards what you assumed was her bedroom. You happily followed her, reaching up for the little bow that sat on her back from where her bikini was tied. You pulled at it and she turned around suddenly and pushed you against the nearest wall. You gasped as a painting frame of some kind dug into your back.

“Professor,” you gasped as her hands found your wrists and held them above your head.

“You call me mistress from now on,” she growled and you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your lips, “and you do not touch me without permission,”

You nodded your head and waited for your breathing to slow down, this woman was going to be the death of you.

“Can-can I kiss you, mistress?” You asked, not wanting to move without her express permission.

“Good girl, asking permission,” she laughed and pressed her lips against yours, you eagerly opened your lips and she hummed as she slid her tongue back into your mouth.

You tried to push yourself closer to her but she pulled away and you whined.

“Patience, darling,” she said, her eyes dark as she pulled you towards the room.

She had you on the bed almost instantly and her mouth was all over you, biting and sucking deep marks into your neck and chest. Your hands found her hair and you pushed her closer to you. You heard her growl against your skin and her hands grabbed your wrists.

“I will restrain you y/n,” she hissed and despite her harsh tone you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips at the thought, “oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you, tied up and entirely at my mercy, let me do anything I want to that pretty body of yours,”

You moaned again and wiggled under her as you pressed your thighs together. She laughed and got off you, walking towards a closet that you hadn’t even noticed when you came in.

“Stay,” she gruffed and for a split second you felt like a dog and embarrassment heated your cheeks, “the beauty of a bikini, y/n,” Agatha said as she disappeared into the closet, “is that I can tie you up and still get you undressed with your arms and legs spread,”

You whimpered as she returned and you saw what seemed to be some heavy duty ropes and your mouth went dry.

“Are you okay with this?” She asked as she sat down on the bed next to you, “because we can stop if-”

“Please, do anything you want to me, I have very few boundaries when it comes to sex,” you interrupted her, “I just ask that if I say stop or red that you do,”

“Of course,” she replied, “anything off limits I should know about now? Or anything you really want?”

You smiled at her and thought about it for a moment before answering.

“You can hurt me, I like pain, and I might also be into blood and things like that but it’s not a requirement, and um, calling me names,” you told her, biting your lip nervously.

You saw her eyes darken and the blue of her eyes almost disappeared with how wide her pupils were. Her mouth was on yours in an instant, her teeth scraping against yours as she tried to essentially suck your face off. You could tell that she was excited to find someone who was into the same things she was, you knew how hard it had been in the past to find a sexual partner that could fulfil you without indulging in all your kinks. You hadn’t even registered that she had tied your wrists to the bed posts until she pulled back and asked how they felt.

“Perfect,” you told her after giving them an experimental tug, “now are you going to fuck me or what?”

You saw her raise her eyebrow and you knew you had messed up.

“My little slut wants to be fucked?” She asked and part of you wondered if it was rhetorical or not.

You felt her fingers begin to undo the strings that held your bikini bottoms in place. She made quick work of the strings and she let out a low moan as she saw how wet you were.

“All for me?” She quirked and before you could nod she pushed two fingers inside you.

You cried out in pleasure, her fingers expertly spreading you and curling inside you, hitting a spot that had you seeing stars. Her breath ghosted over your clit and you couldn’t stop yourself from bucking into her. She glared up at you through her eyelashes and her free hand came up to rest on your stomach, holding you down as her fingers dug into the soft skin. Her lips wrapped around your clit and the sound you let out would have a prostitute blushing. You felt her smile against your skin as she continued to suck on your clit, her fingers speeding up as they pumped in and out of you. It took every ounce of self control you had not to completely push yourself against her hand and mouth.

“Fuck, mistress, I’m so close,” you moaned, your wrists pulling against the ropes.

“I want to hear you scream,” she said against your centre.

And scream you did, her teeth scraped against your clit at the same moment her talented long fingers curled just right inside you. You felt your orgasm crash right over you, wave after wave and she continued to push her fingers into you even though her mouth moved away from your clit.

“Such a good girl for me,” she cooed, her fingers slowing down.

You could only moan in response, her words making you needy again even though you just came.

“You know,” Agatha said, her lips kissing along your stomach, “I went to the beach to find someone to take my mind off you,” her lips found your neck as she spoke, pressing opened mouthed kisses to the skin, “because I see you in class and I want nothing more than to bend you over my desk and fuck you until you cum all over my cock,”

You moaned at the mental image.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She laughed, her legs straddling your stomach.

You moaned and nodded your head, you could feel her wetness against your stomach through her bikini bottoms.

“Maybe one day,” she cooed, her lips joining yours again.

You groaned into the kiss and arched your back so that your stomach came into direct contact with her covered centre. Agatha let out a low groan before she pulled away and stood next to the bed. Your eyes followed her hands as she began to slowly undo the strings of her bikini top, letting it fall to the ground next to the bed. You bit your lip at the sight as she ran her hands over her chest, pinching at the nipples as she moved her hands lower. She pulled down her bikini bottoms and you moaned as you saw the pool of wetness that had gathered.

“I’m going to ride that pretty face of yours,” she said, moving back onto the bed, “and if you can make me cum, I’ll fuck you dumb on my cock,”

“God, please,” you moaned, your eyes fluttering shut.

You felt her hand snake up your neck before her palm came into contact with your face, the slap hard enough that your head turned in the opposite direction and your eyes flew open as you moaned at the sting of pain. Her hand grabbed your jaw and she brought your face back to her own.

“Eyes open, slut,” she hissed.

You bit your lip as you nodded your head, eager to please her.

“Good, now open up,”

You did as she asked, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. She smiled at you and in the next second she spit into your mouth. Agatha raised an eyebrow at you expectantly and your eyes went wide as you realised what she wanted. You closed your lips and swallowed her spit, the action making you impossibly wetter. She had a sadistic grin on her lips and then her thighs were on either side of your head and she lowered herself down to meet your lips.

“That’s a good girl, let me ride your pretty face,” she moaned and you stuck out your tongue.

You moaned at the taste of her on your tongue as she continued to push herself down against you. You wanted to move your tongue, to suck at her clit, anything, but you knew she would scold you for it so you just laid there and let her ride you.

“Fuck, y/n,” she moaned, even though she was doing most of the work.

You pulled at the ropes, desperate to dig your hands into her thighs or her ass, anything to hold onto her. Her hand found your hair and she pulled you up, changing the angle so she could get more friction and you moaned at the roughness of her nails digging into your scalp. You could hardly breathe but you didn’t care, the way her hips bucked you knew she was close and her moans were getting breathier as she continued to chase her release. She finally cried out, calling your name as she came. Only then did you move your tongue, licking at all the juices that flowed from her, intent to not let any of the sweet taste go to waste. Agatha didn’t reprimand you like you expected, only pushing her hips against you more as she rode the waves of her orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re good with that tongue of yours baby,” she moaned as she moved off your face.

“You did most of the work, mistress,” you said, trying to catch your breath.

Agatha laughed and walked back into the closet.

“I clearly didn’t do a good enough job if you can still walk,” you laughed, sitting up as best as you could with your arms still tied.

“Maybe,” Agatha said, walking back into the room, “but you won’t be walking anytime soon by the time I’m done,”

Your eyes went wide as you saw the large purple strap-on that sat on her hips. You bit your lip as you took in the view before you. You fucking University teacher was standing bare infront of you with a strap around her hips and you were helplessly tied to her bed. You opened your mouth to talk but closed it, not sure how to form what you wanted to say into coherent words. You could feel tears prick at your eyes and you fought to keep them back.

“What’s the matter baby?” She asked, her head tilting to the side as she walked towards you.

“Ca-can you untie me?” You asked, pulling at the ropes, “I-I want to-to touch you,”

You bit your lip as you spoke, nervousness taking over you. She smiled at you and her hand reached up and ran over your hair.

“Of course,” she said, her hands quickly untying the ropes.

She was more gentle as she saw how red your wrists had become from rubbing against the bonds. Once your left hand was free she brought it to her lips and pressed a soft kiss against the irritated skin. You watched her, your eyes wide and you suddenly wished you had something to chew on other than your lip. Chewing on something always helps you calm down.

“Lay back baby,” she said, gently kissing your forehead.

You did as she said and laid back against the bed. She reached over you and began to untie your other hand. Her chest was right in front of your face and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching up and taking one of her nipples in your mouth. She gasped and her hands faltered for a second. Your eyes went wide as you realised that you’d touched her without her permission.

“It’s okay baby,” she laughed, seeing the way you stopped, “you’re lucky I like that,”

You smiled against her chest and sucked at the nipple that was already hard, swirling your tongue around the nub. Agatha moaned as your teeth lightly scraped against her.

“Mhm, you can bite if you want,” she breathed, the rope now fully undone.

You bit down lightly on the nipple and she let out a low groan. Your other hand reached up and began to pinch at her other nipple. Her hand found your hair and she lightly scratched at your scalp, causing you to moan against her. She pulled away from you and you whined as she smiled at you.

“Are you ready for me?” She asked, her hands running down your sides.

“Yes, please mistress,” you moaned, biting your lip before pulling her in for a kiss.

She laughed against your lips before she lifted your hips slightly and you felt the tip of the strap press against your entrance. You moaned and did your best to stop yourself from bucking against it. She easily slid inside you and you moaned, the strap meeting little resistance from your centre. Her pace was fast, barely giving you time to adjust to the size and you were screaming out from the pleasure, your hands wrapping around her arms. You could feel the slight muscle of her biceps and your mind wandered to the thought of her holding you against a wall while she fucked you. The idea turned you on more than you cared to admit and you were screaming around her. You could tell by her face that she knew where your mind was going.

“Maybe I’ll fuck you against the wall next,” she laughed, “if you can handle more,”

“Oh god, please,” you cried out, your hips meeting her thrusts.

You were a moaning mess as she continued to thrust into you, your whole body felt like it was on fire, like every nerve ending in your body was firing. One of her hands moved from where it supported her and she reached down and began to rub small circles over your clit. You threw your head back in ecstasy, this woman was a god as far as you were concerned and you were going to worship her like one.

“Fuck-Agatha-mistress, I’m so close,” you cried out, not even thinking about your words as her mouth found your neck.

“Go on, I know you want to be a little slut and cum all over my cock,” she cooed, her mouth trailing kisses along your jaw.

You let out a low groan, the feeling of your orgasm crashing over you again.

“Such a good little slut for me,” she whispered into your ear, “and to think, barely even an hour ago, you didn’t even recognise me, and yet so willing to come back with me, you really are a little whore,”

You whimpered at her words, the way she spoke to you had you crying out.

“Agatha,” you breathed, your eyes went wide as you realised what you’d called her.

Her movements stilled and her hands reached for your hips, she pulled you on top of her, your legs landing on either side of her hips. The new angle had the strap reaching deeper into you and Agatha swallowed your cries with a kiss. You raised your hips up and down as best as you could, her nails dug into your hips and she helped you ride her.

“God you’re beautiful,” she breathed against your lips.

Your nails dug into her shoulders as you felt your third orgasm begin to build up. She moaned against your lips, the feeling of your nails driving her wild as she bucked her hips against yours.

“Fuck, Agatha, gods, I’ve never been fucked like this,” you moaned as her lips moved down your throat.

“I should fucking hope so,” she growled against your skin, bitting at your neck.

Your moans grew higher in pitch as your orgasm crashed over you, you could feel every ridge and bump of the strap as you slowed down your movements. You rested your head against her shoulder as your breathing slowly returned to normal. Your mouth found her neck and you began to suck a dark mark on her skin, after the marks she put on you, you wanted to return the favour.

“Wanna try the wall next?” You asked, pressing your lips against hers.

Agatha smiled at you before her hands gripped under your ass and she picked you up.

[rom-e-o]

Who is Isma's bestie? And don't give me the "she married her best friend" thing. I'm sure she probably did, and I adore that sentiment in a marriage, but you know what I mean: Who is her number 1 "gal pal"? The person she goes shopping with when she wants to buy a fit to surprise and stun Emmrich. The person she compares... things with when she's a little squiffy. The person she's inviting over for a sleepover to do mani-pedis and facials and gossip and giggle all night with when Emmrich is away on important professor business.

OHHHHHH, YES. This is a good question! I have a long answer (ofc). One gal pal, and one bond that surprised me but becomes those same levels of ride-or-die deep.

So, gal pal. Bellara. They are the Bel Brigade. B&B. Bel-Squared.

Bellara is excitable, a genius, giddy, and dedicated to her work. Isma (like Emmrich) admire her for that greatly! There is also some concern, of course. Isma takes it upon herself to sit with Bellara during long sessions of tinkering just to be able to yawn and say “well, time for bed” to force Bellara to slow down and rest.

These two definitely spend time doing their hair every morning (those updos take time!), shopping in Minrathous for new bath oils, reading scandalous serials together, etc. They’re totally the friends that can spend an entire day in the library sharing books, reading together, and writing each other notes and recommendations about the passages and rarity of the editions they find. They also would totally go to a museum of natural oddities or medical science together and compare notes about the research, haha. They would adore seeing huge beetle specimens, or examining the workings of ancient rune-powered forceps.

Isma teaches Bellara how to take care of her hands and feet with mani/pedis (“I see you sprinting through those stone ruins and lodging your fingers in those mechanical artifacts. We can’t have a split nail or bloody heel hindering you. Besides, you deserve pampering.”) Bellara teaches Isma recipes and how to cook and eat. (“Isma, when did you eat last? You’re not a dancer anymore! You shouldn’t go so long without a meal, especially on long excursions. Our adventures in the field are a little longer than a matinee performance, after all. So, here. Come one! I’m making carob muffins, and TWO have your name on them.”)

Not to mention, they’re both high-anxiety girls that feels like they always need to be ‘on.’ Seeing that in the other helps ground them a bit.

When Bellara’s brother passes, Isma is there for the funeral and helps her process things.

And, of course, Bellara is a top Isma/Emmrich shipper.

XOXOXO

“Oh, Isma! Just who I wanted to see! So, um…I heard a rumooooor.”

“A rumor? Don’t keep me in suspense! Is it a good one? Another one about Dorian? Or Lucanis? I wondered if the paper’s notes about him have a full-body Crow costume were real! And he was blaming Assan for all the feathers - the nerve!”

“Oh, nooo. About a particular romance. Between you. And the professor. Smooching in the gardens?”

“Oh! Hehe, well… just between us…”

“Is it true? It’s true, isn’t it? Isn’t it?”

“Haha, much to my delight and disbelief, yes.”

“I KNEW IT! I knew I thought I saw you two together a lot. Oh, and the professor’s face when he looks at you? He looks so dreamy. He never daydreams, but around you? It’s wild to see!”

“B-Bellara, please! Ears.”

“Oh, everyone knows. Word gets around quick.”

“Oh.”

“Buuuuuut I had to ask! I’m so happy for you two! It’s so romantic. ‘Two Mourn Watchers, bound by duty, now bound by a common desire. For each other.’”

“Is that the description of our romance as told by some ghost writer in The Randy Dowager?”

“You don’t like it?”

“I just don’t think our romance is a serial-type, is all! Besides, it’s not just ‘desire.’”

“Oh?”

“His papers, rituals and research have shaped so much of the Mourn Watch’s present-day knowledge! I confess, I always imagined him as some armchair-academic. But when I first met him and saw him actually in the crypts and using his own magic to soothe the should have the departed? I was in awe.”

“Even with the skeleton mask?”

“I thought he looked as if he could be rendered in marble and erected in Orlais’ Palladian gardens. Nobody would even think twice, he’d blend right in with the other gorgeous sculptures and renditions of heroes from years past.”

“He’d probably prefer to be rendered as a skeleton.”

“Well, probably.”

“Awww. Well, congratulations! I’m happy for you both. Considering the odds and evils we’re up against, I almost felt…bad calling the professor here to us. But to know it allowed you and him to meet? I feel a little better.”

“I understand. While nothing about the situation Solas curated is ideal, I’m very thankful that I have such sterling company to face it alongside.”

“Oooh, tell him that! He’d love to hear that, I’m sure.”

“I’m not just talking about him. You too.”

“Me?”

“I don’t think I could stay sane here without our friendship, Bellara. You help make even the worst days feel normal, productive … or fun. I never go to bed sad after talking with you. Thank you.”

“….I-I….”

“Are you getting teary?”

“No! N-No! Pollen, in my eyes. Happy pollen!”

“Ohhh. I’m sorry! Would it help if I told you that I found the most amazing stationary seller near Treviso? They have that grid paper you love so much for schematics.”

“OH! Yes! I’ll get my boots!”

“And the tears vanished, haha. What lovely magic.”

XOXOXOXO

Not a gal pal, but after months of mulling the game over, I feel like Isma would also really vibe with Taash after a while. Now, she and Taash are … okay at first. Taash is brusque and a little rude (in her very overly-proper Nevarran opinion, haha.) and the insults to Emmrich DO NOT help.

But Isma holds in her emotions. Badly. She is a vessel for a lot of “feminine rage”, as horror movie essayists say. Isma is restrained by mental ropes her own hands have tied with biting force.

Taash? Taash also hates talking about their problems, so they train and workout to siphon out that stress.

But they see Isma is worked up, and would want to help.

XOXOXO

“Hey. Rook?”

“Yes, Taash?”

“You were acting weird during the last fight. Were you scared or something?”

“Scared? No. I mean, an arrow to the face would many anyone wary, but … I was no more tense than usual.”

“Huh. Maybe that’s why.”

“Why, what?”

“You’re always tense. And holding back in fights.”

“What? How do you figure that?”

“You’re too posed. Every reaction from you takes an extra half-second compared to other mages. I know that’s not because you’re bad at magic. You’re measuring yourself. Holding back so that you can execute your attack perfectly.”

“Oh. Well, yes, I’ll admit that. I don’t want to just flail my spells about.”

“You know that’s not what I mean. This isn’t a ballet. Nobody gives a shit if your spin is off. I don’t care if you stagger an extra step if it means it gives you more momentum to wind up a really good shot that will ring your opponent’s bell.”

“Taash…”

“And send their head flying. Ideally.”

“(Laugh) …Thank you.”

“Nobody’s perfect. Including you. We don’t need a perfect leader. You’re … pretty damn impressive just how you are. So don’t hesitate next time. Because the enemy won’t.”

XOXOXO

And in turn, Isma helps Taash process and talk through the trauma of Harding’s passing.

XOXOXO

“She was so small. Small but powerful. And never afraid. She sacrificed herself without a second thought for everyone. We live because of her.”

“All of Thedas owes Lace Harding a debt she would have never considered.”

“Hah. Emmrich said the same thing. He’s helping me tend the plants in her room now. To keep them alive. It’s good. He knows more than I do.”

“I think that’s lovely.”

“I feel like there is more I can do. I know we’re going to beat the shit out of the gods. We have to. That will be good revenge. But …”

“You want to do things that honor her more personally.”

“Yeah. I asked Emmrich is he could help me visit her mom when this is over. She deserves to hear about how her daughter was a true hero in-person. You should come too.”

“I’d love that.”

“…What are some other things? Mourning things?”

“There is no singular, correct way to mourn, Taash. But I personally think you’re doing a wonderful job already by tending to her space. As well as by remembering her, and keeping her legacy alive by sharing fond memories and stories about her.”

“Okay. But…is that actually good? Or just an easy answer? Will any of that even matter after we leave here? It’s not like she’s coming back.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“Huh?”

“Harding vanished. When I went into the Fade, I also vanished. Whether she’s out there, in human form or in another more spiritual form … if she’s in the Fade somewhere, maybe she’ll come home. To the Lighthouse. To her cozy room, plants, and bed of lumpy cushions.”

“(Laughs)…I almost want to imagine her here after we leave. Making terrible potato stew and making fun of Solas’ taste is biscuits. Searching those floating shelves for that book of elven erotic poetry she and Bellara used to giggle over.”

“Then you should. I think she’d get a kick out of that. Being remembered for her bravery, and for the light she brought to daily life here.”

“…I loved her, Isma. I grew into a better person because of her.”

“She loves you, Taash. Now and always. For exactly who you are.”