#greatest marvel movie yet it could be

[writershapeholeonthedoor]

Marry you

Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

Summary: During an interview, someone asks you to marry them and your girlfriend isn't happy about it

Disclaimer: English is not my first language.

MASTERLIST | READ PART TWO | READ PART THREE

“My next question is for Y\N.”

Hearing your name being said from somewhere in the crowd in front of the stage, you looked up and quickly finished drinking your water to put the bottle back on the small stool they placed between your and Evan’s chairs. That was the first question directed at you since everyone else who got a chance to ask a question to the Marvel actors seemed more interested in asking things to the people who had been a part of that universe for longer. You couldn’t blame them because that was your second year being a part of that large cast and that was your first ComicCon, not to mention that your colleagues and friends were very entertaining to watch answering the fans' questions.

Now, however, someone was about to ask you something and you got excited very fast. You had prepared to be asked a number of questions about your character, who had featured in two different movies in the MCU and was about to get a movie with her very own name after making success among the fans. You took the microphone that Scarlett elegantly gave to you from where she was sitting in front of you and waited to hear the question. Your eyes scanned the large crowd to find who was about to talk to you, finding someone standing with the microphone in hand after a few seconds.

“Yes?” You prompted the man to talk and also to let him know you were paying attention to what he was about to say.

“Will you marry me?”

There was a beat of stunned silence before the theater erupted in laughs. You were so surprised by his words - and fairly disappointed for having to hear that type of question when all the men got asked very deep questions before - that it took you a moment to go back to the present. You pressed your lips in a thin line and looked around while you thought about your answer. You didn’t want to be rude, but you also didn’t want to let this guy think he was so amazing for asking that type of thing.

Most of your cast mates were laughing around you, but you saw the way Scarlett turned around to throw you a sympathetic smile, which certainly brought you some comfort at least. Brie was also one of the few who didn’t think it was funny, and you thought you may have seen Holland grimacing a bit. There was another roll of chairs behind you and you couldn’t see the reaction of anyone sitting there. You couldn’t see if your girlfriend, Elizabeth Olsen, was sharing an awkward laugh with everybody or if she was as stunned as you.

You had been dating for quite some time now and, although you didn’t make any effort to keep it a secret, the public hadn’t connected the dots yet - which was a first. You liked to think you knew Elizabeth enough to know she didn’t find that question to be funny, though. Not because she would go jealous or anything, but because she could see it was a sexist joke to make every man in the room laugh. The guy himself was accepting the catcalls his friends were throwing his way like he was the most amazing man on Earth, and that’s what made you decide to shoot back instead of going for a simple answer.

“Really?” You asked on the microphone. “You have the right to make one question, and that’s the question you’re going to make?” You added incredulity in your voice and more laughs filled the room, then you shifted to sarcasm - your greatest weapon. “I mean, we’re not going back to you. You know that, right? You have one question, you make it, and that’s it. You can’t make another one.” You could see Scarlett laughing honestly at you, her eyes shining with mirth, and then Elizabeth’s chuckles reached your ears as well. Before the guy could say anything else, you kept talking, dragging him without remorse. “I will give you two seconds to think if that’s what you want to ask.”

For dramatization, you raised your hand, slowly taking two fingers down while everyone else seemed to have fun with your actions. Even the guy who made the question was laughing, although you doubted he realized you were making fun of him.

“Fine, you can ask your question now,” you joked, pointing at him and reclining against your chair. You crossed your legs, placed an arm on the back of the chair, and turned your body to the side a bit to look directly at him.

And then, the question got asked again: “Will you marry me?”

Of course, laughs sounded all around one more time, even louder, and you bit the inside of your cheek while swinging the microphone in front of your mouth for a few seconds. Then, when the laugh died a bit, you crossed your arms. “Give me a reason to do it. Come on.”

“I have money!” The guy shouted since the person mediating the questions had already removed the microphone from his hand to move on to find someone else who wanted to participate.

“So do I, my dude!” You shouted back before remembering you didn’t have to.

However, as you realized everyone else was laughing again, you knew it was a nice reaction to have for the public. Brie, sitting a few chairs from you, had thrown her head back to laugh, and Scarlett placed a hand on your knee as if to show you support. You risked throwing a glance behind you and caught the way Elizabeth was smiling at you and that’s all you needed to keep going on with that crazy conversation.

“Really, I have money. So, unless you’re an Arabian Prince or something, I don’t think I will be too impressed with your bank account,” you provoked and then leaned over to point at him with your free hand. “I mean, if you are an Arabian Prince, you wouldn’t want to marry me to start with because, you know, I’m not a virgin. That ship has sailed, my friend.” More laughs. “Are you a prince of some sort?” You watched as the man shook his head and started sitting down, laughing so hard you were a bit worried he would stop breathing soon. Well, at least he wasn’t offended by your reaction, but you kind of wished he was. “There we go. So you’re not a prince. And I have money, so I’m not interested in that. I’m not saying I’m richer than you, but I would only get impressed if you were a prince, sorry.”

“Someone is going to have nightmares lost in the desert tonight,” Robert joked over his own microphone, causing some more laughs.

“No, really,” you kept talking, looking at him now. “He had one question and that’s the one he chose. I even gave him a chance to make up his case because I totally ignored the biggest reason why I wouldn’t marry him. I’m gay! Everyone knows it.”

Now you were just drawing the moment because you couldn’t help yourself. People were laughing and they were having fun, and you wished to keep it like that. Also, it was a way of letting everyone know you wouldn’t put up with stupid shit like that. It could’ve been much worse, you knew that. You had seen the amount of sexist questions Scarlett got asked through the years, so you should be glad that it was a minor thing. Harmless, even, albeit very annoying. Even so, you wouldn’t let people think it was okay to brush your work to the side to ask those types of things.

“By the way,” you said, looking back to the crowd even if you couldn’t find the guy anymore, “thank you for ruining my first proposal.”

“No one ever asked you to marry them?” Holland asked in his overly excited manner.

“Nope.” You shook your head. “It just got ruined for me now. My first proposal and it happened like that.” Then, you pretended to be sad, pouting and everything.

“Oh, no,” Scarlett joined in the joke after stealing Robert’s microphone. “I hope the second one goes better.”

“Not as special as the first one.” You shrugged and that put an end to the subject, finally.

Everyone shared another laugh and the panel moved on after that. It was filled with more funny moments and you got asked some good questions after that, so, once it was over, everyone was in a good mood. Some of the cast had to attend another panel starting soon, but some of you decided to enjoy the mood to have a little celebration at the hotel bar. Once you all got there and got your drinks, your friends started talking about the things that happened during the panel, obviously addressing one of the most memorable moments.

“You dragged him!” Brie exclaimed with a laugh. “The guy has no idea what hit him!”

“He has no idea because he didn’t even realize he was wrong,” Scarlett pointed out gently, although she reached out to squeeze your shoulder. “But, damn, that was awesome.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “If they don’t fire me now, I think I’m safe for another ten years or so.”

While everyone else chuckled and started talking among themselves, you noticed that Elizabeth was quiet beside you. She was sitting on the chair by your side, nursing a fancy drink that she had only taken a sip from, and looking from face to face without paying attention to what was being said. You couldn’t ignore it, of course, and quietly moved your chair a bit to get closer to her so you could lean over to whisper against her ear, masking your actions by pretending you were only getting closer to kiss her cheek.

“You okay?”

You pulled away a bit, but kept close by leaning your elbow on her armrest. Elizabeth glanced at you with wide eyes and surprise written all over her features, and you watched as she opened and closed her mouth a few times. Her pale cheeks acquired a pinky shade and, even if you worried with her, you also couldn’t help but think she was the cutest person on the planet.

“Yes, I am. Why do you ask?”

“You’re very quiet,” you pointed out gently.

“I’m always quiet, sweetie,” Elizabeth declared with a chuckle.

It was an earnest chuckle, not forced or faked, and it made you relax almost immediately. You rolled your eyes fondly now and leaned closer to kiss her cheek again “Not always,” you whispered before pulling away with one eyebrow arched, giving her a very meaningful look.

Elizabeth picked up the meaning behind your words and blushed a deep shade of red, which caused you to laugh loudly, bringing the attention of everyone back to you. Everyone there knew you two were dating and they quickly jumped in to tease both you and Elizabeth, much to your amusement and her distress.

The night was amazing despite that - or maybe because of that - but you all said your goodbyes before you got too excited with the drinks. Everyone needed to get up early the next day to be a part of more panels and other interviews, not to mention that having half of the Marvel cast getting drunk in a hotel bar was a very bad idea, so you all decided to call it a night.

You and Elizabeth kept company to Scarlett, walking her back to her room so she wouldn’t be alone, and then took the elevator again to go to the room you were sharing. As soon as you stepped inside, you kicked off your shoes and started taking off the vest you were wearing on top of a long-sleeved shirt. Elizabeth stepped in behind you, being much more pragmatic in her actions. She took her high heels and placed them neatly beside her empty luggage, then she started taking off her earrings while walking towards the safe deposit box where she had placed everything valuable. Meanwhile, you threw the vest away and lay on the bed with a deep sigh, arms and legs stretched out like a starfish.

“Oh, I wish I could sleep all day tomorrow,” you groaned, feeling the ache in your body make its presence known.

Elizabeth had her back turned at you, but you heard her chuckling softly at your words. “You should go take a shower before you pass out on the bed.”

You whined but you knew she was right. Elizabeth knew you better than anyone and she knew you could fall asleep in a minute without even realizing it. You were a bit sweaty and you also needed to remove the make-up you applied earlier that day, no matter how tired you were. Making loud noises just for drama effect, you got up and made your way to stand behind Elizabeth. She was slightly higher than you, something she liked to tease you about. You kissed Elizabeth’s shoulder gently and hummed when she leaned back against you. Your arms wrapped around her waist and you smiled when she rocked her body from one side to the other with you.

You stayed like that for a moment, just enjoying her presence and the silence in the room after a day filled with attending crowds and making interviews. After a while, Elizabeth turned around in your arms with a loving smile that made your heart a bit warmer. She pecked your lips before her hands moved to start undoing the buttons of your shirt, slowly revealing your bra beneath it. It wasn’t a sexual gesture at that moment, just something she decided to do for you to keep you close to her for another minute.

“Go take a shower,” she told you again. “You’re smelling like Evans.”

“He hugged me like a thousand times,” you complained, earning a kiss from her and an amused laugh.

You eventually managed to take the said shower, taking your precious time under the warm water to lose up some of your tense muscles. You would have to wake up extra early to wash your hair to have enough time to get to your first interview, and you wished you could stay in bed with your girlfriend all day. After getting out of the shower, you went through your skincare routine - the one that Scarlett forced on you until you put it in your daily agenda - brushed your teeth, and finally left the bathroom ready to jump in bed and go to sleep.

As soon as you stepped outside, though, you realized something was different. Well, it wouldn’t take a genius to notice that the lights around the room were almost all dim or the soft music playing in the background, but it surprised you enough that you stopped short in your tracks as you looked around. You opened your mouth to call out for Elizabeth when you spotted your girlfriend standing by one of the corners where a champagne bottle was left at some point when you were taking your shower.

You arched your eyebrow at her, but Elizabeth didn’t say anything as she walked towards you holding two glasses and smiling at you. She was still wearing her beautiful black dress, feet bare, and cheeks just a bit red, and you found yourself being rooted on the spot, hypnotized by her. You took one of the glasses when she got close enough and saw your girlfriend reach out to close the bathroom door behind you.

“What’s going on?” You asked when she took your free hand gently to pull you to the middle of the room. Elizabeth didn’t reply and you couldn’t help but keep talking out of nervousness. “I feel underdressed now. I already put my pajamas on, didn’t know we would be celebrating tonight. What are we celebrating, by the way?”

Elizabeth smiled throughout your rambling, eventually stopping you by squeezing your hand once. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she said.

“Okay,” you mumbled, suddenly much more nervous than before. The mood wasn’t somber, so you didn’t think it would be something bad, but you could never know.

“I had a plan,” Elizabeth started to explain. “I was going to wait for our anniversary, take you to ski or something equally dangerous because you enjoy this type of thing,” she chuckled fondly at that. “I would have more time to prepare a speech and there was going to be roses. I was still debating if I would do it before or after dinner.”

You had no idea what Elizabeth was talking about, so you didn’t try to stop her. Your heart was beating so fast inside your chest that you were afraid she might be hearing that, though she just looked utterly content looking at you.

“I got the champagne, at least, but the hotel couldn’t provide me the roses this late at night with such short notice. And we don’t have snow. It’s actually very, very, hot outside, and our dinner was old peanuts from the bar downstairs,” Elizabeth kept talking, her hand still holding yours and your glasses were dangerously forgotten. “You’re already in your pajamas and I’m not wearing the very cute dress I was thinking about wearing when I did this, but…” She paused, took a deep breath and let her eyes fall to your joined hands for a moment. “But I don’t think all of that would have made it any more special.”

“Lizzie,” you whispered, making her eyes snap back to yours. “I’m lost.”

Elizabeth laughed lowly and nodded. “Right, sorry.” She blinked at you. “I’m sorry someone ruined the first time you got proposed to and I can’t let you go with that lame proposal as your only proposal for longer.”

Okay, now you had a very clear idea where that was going and you felt your eyes widening immediately. Your racing heart started going even faster when Elizabeth let go of your hand to pull out a small blue box from somewhere between the folds of her dress. You had no idea how she hid that there, but you also didn’t care. Not right now. Elizabeth gently opened the box, with the inside turned at her yet, and smiled when she saw what was inside. Then, she held the box with the same hand that was holding her glass and reached out to take your hand again.

And then, because life wasn’t already crazy enough at that moment, Elizabeth got down on one knee in front of you.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”

She showed you the ring finally, but you honestly didn’t even mind what it looked like. What mattered was the woman in front of you asking you to spend the rest of your life with her. You loved Elizabeth and had known for a while that she was the one you wanted to share your life with, but you had never imagined she would be proposing to you. It surprised you enough to delay your reply for a couple of seconds, even if you had no doubt what your answer would be.

“Yes! Of course! Yes!”

Your voice was way higher than it had to be, but neither of you cared.

Still ignoring the box between you two, you leaned over to kiss her, bringing your hands to cradle her face. You forgot about the glass in your hand though and your kiss got interrupted by a yelp when Elizabeth felt the cold drink falling down her shoulder and ruining her dress. You parted and shared a look before bursting into a fit of laughter. You helped her go back to her feet, still holding her face - more carefully now - and you shared another kiss before she slid the ring on your finger.

Turns out you were wrong. Second time was even more special.

[acourtofmishapandmistakes]

Shadowsongs

Summary: After Rhys and Feyre decide to take a trip away to the Summer Court for the night to escape the thralls of their newborn, Azriel is left caring for Nyx and finds that his greatest battle might just be getting him to sleep. I also recently rewatched the Labyrinth and forgot how much that movie slapped so the song from that is included.

As the Velaris tower clock chimed midnight, the sitting room of the River House was enveloped in the soft, ambient glow of faelight. Azriel sunk deeper into the plush, green, velvet couch, his expansive wings draped elegantly over the back of the chair, eyes heavy with exhaustion. His hand rhythmically patted the back of the squirming bundle nestled snugly against his chest. The babe, Nyx, resisted sleep with the tenacity of an Illyrian warrior, his tiny fists punching the air as if to protest the very concept of bedtime. 

The room was a playful mess, strewn with toys - dolls lay abandoned, blankets were tossed aside, and bottles had rolled under chairs. Azriel had assured Feyre and Rhys he could manage babysitting for a day and night. They desperately needed a break after months of non-stop parenting in tandem with running the Night Court, and a trip to the breezy shores of the Summer Court was the only thing keeping Feyre from collapsing into tears. Feyre had sobbed when they left, overwhelming Azriel with reminders of Nyx’s schedule and a litany of do’s and don'ts, which Azriel already knew inside and out. Her maternal instincts flared to the point where Rhys had to gentle pull her away, reassuring her that Nyx would be fine for one night, and, if anything, they should be more concerned about Azriel surviving Nyx than Nyx surviving Azriel. 

Typically, everyone shared babysitting duties throughout the week day, but with Nesta and Cassian off in the Autumn Court, Elain incapacitated by her first fae cycle, and Amren claiming she would rather cut out her own tongue than be left alone with a babe, the responsibility had fallen to Azriel. Leaving Nyx overnight for the first time might have been a tad ambitious. 

“Come on, Nyx,” he coaxed with a whisper of amusement. “You’ve got to give in at some point.” Azriel briefly considered that perhaps this was how the victims of his torture efforts may have felt when they had been kept awake for hours on end. Perhaps he should start having them babysit a fussy Illeryian babe instead of cutting off fingers. He chuckled to himself before pushing the thought away.

Yet, Nyx remained defiant, his violet eyes locked on the ceiling, deep in thought, as if unraveling the secrets of the cosmos rather than giving in to slumber. Azriel exhaled deeply, his fingers threading through his tousled black hair. After learning about Feyre’s pregnancy he had stealthily devoured every parenting book Feyre had purchased, to the perfect formula-to-water ratio, optimal bath temperatures, and baby sensory activities, he had learned it all. When Feyre faced challenges with breastfeeding, Azriel had accidentally revealed his clandestine studies by suggesting a particular latching technique. Cassian had teased him relentlessly since. Despite employing every baby battle strategy known to him, Nyx was relentless.

With a resigned sigh, Azriel sank even further into the plush cushions, resigning himself to a long night. As he watched Nyx’s tiny chest rise and fall with each breath, he couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer stubbornness of the new babe. Azriel couldn’t tell if that was more from Feyre or Rhys, and then decided that that trait most likely came from his Auntie Nesta, whom Nyx had wrapped around his tiny, chubby fingers.

In the dimly lit room, Azriel’s gaze followed his shadows as they danced across the ceiling, capturing Nyx’s rapt attention. With a grin, he watched them twirl and twirl – they were always more playful when Nyx was around. His shadows seemed as curious about Nyx as he was about them. During gatherings at the River House, it wasn’t uncommon for the shadows to envelop Nyx, tickling him and teasing him, eliciting peals of laughter from the delighted babe as he reached out to catch them. 

Elain had said before that the shadows and Nyx reminded her when she and her sisters were young, a black barn cat would seek her out to frolic among the late summer heat. Azriel wondered what Nyx made of these ethereal companions, if they were like an animal to him, or another playmate. He also pondered whether the shadows would maintain their fascination with him as he grew older. Azriel, himself, hadn’t spent much time around children this young, and his shadows seemed to be so gentle with the babe, as though they somehow could sense his innocence and hoped he would keep it forever.

As Azriel and Nyx both kept their gaze to the ceiling, the shadows began to craft intricate shapes and forms, transforming into a mesmerizing puppet show. Nyx’s restless squirming subsided as the shadows danced across the walls, casting enchanting silhouettes that swirled and twirled in their silent ballet creating a tableau of delight.

On the ceiling, an array of animals appeared in what resembled a grand ballroom scene. Pegasus, birds, and sheep mingled before parting to reveal a single swan, its wings unfurling with ethereal grace. The swan bowed elegantly before twirling loftily above its admiring audience. Then, emerging from the gathered shadows, a sly fox approached, gracefully taking the swan’s wings in its paws and spinning it in a delicate dance. Although the room was silent, one could easily imagine the soft strains of music. Nyx reached up excitedly, prompting Azriel to adjust his hold, lifting him slightly higher for a better view.

As the dance continued above, some shadows descended the walls and playfully twirled around Nyx, their cool touch eliciting giggles from the dark-haired babe.

The shadows conjured forth visions of Nyxs’ family, distant echoes of life beyond the cozy sitting room. 

In one corner of the room, the shadows morphed into delicate snowflakes cascading down the wall. Above the floorboard, three figures raced across the scene – two winged Illyrians and one without wings. The winged males playfully lobbed snowballs at their wingless companion, who shielded his head with his hands. Suddenly, a log sprung from the ground, causing the wingless man to trip and tumble face-first into a pile of snow below. The two other males doubled over with laughter, one even dropping to his knees as the snow continued to fall. Nyx’s eyes widened with wonder, his tiny fingers reaching out to grasp the fleeting shapes. The snowball fight between his father and brothers drew excited coos and giggles from him, his laughed echoing around the room.

In the other corner, the shadows drifted into a scene of a woman standing at an easel, the woman's stomach swollen with child. The shadow woman stood before an easel, her brush moving across the canvas, she ran her hand over her stomach, glancing down towards it when a man walked in behind her, twirling her around into an embrace. The man leaned over, placing a tender kiss on the woman's stomach. Nyx babbled joyfully, his tiny feet kicking Azriel’s chest with delight, which while uncomfortable brought a smile to his face.

Across the ceiling, the shadows painted a scene of a great battle, a field of war and chaos as two winged males fight back to back against a vast army, shooting arrows and swinging swords. 

While the shadows swirled the tapestry of memories, Azriel looked only at Nyx, who giggled and babbled in delight at the unfolding scenes. With each passing moment, it became increasingly apparent to Azriel that while the shadows were doing their best to soothe Nyx to sleep, they had only awakened him more. It became glaringly obvious that bedtime stories wouldn’t work. 

Nyx’s giggles and coos echoed through the River House. With a sigh, Azriel gestured for the shadows to cease their dance, and the room was once again plunged into a soft, dim glow. 

“Alright, Nyx,” Azriel murmured, his voice gentle but tinged with exhaustion. “Let’s try something else.”

He drew Nyx back into his arms, cradling him close against his chest. Rising from the enveloping comfort of the couch, Azriel’s footsteps were muted against the plush rug of the sitting room as he began to meander through the house. Moonlight streamed through the towering windows, casting the ornate corridors in a serene silvery light, illuminating the walls adorned with Feyre’s vibrant paintings. 

Feyre and Rhys had both endured their share of sleepless nights, pacing the same halls with Nyx in their arms. Rhys had noted that being the babe of the Night Court it seemed all Nyx wanted to do was explore the world when the sun had set and all had gone quiet. Perhaps Nyx was more bat than babe.

Undeterred, Azriel pressed on, his footsteps echoing through the halls as he swayed in arms in a steady rhythm. But Nyx remained stubbornly awake, his eyes darting from window to window cooing loudly. As he reached the grand staircase that spiraled upwards, a faint cry echoed through the silence. Nyx stirred in his arms, his tiny fists clutching at his shirt as he let out a wail. 

Azriel attempted to shush the fussy baby who now was wailing louder for what seemed no apparent reason. Perhaps Nyx was finally fighting exhaustion as well. With a sigh, Azriel retraced his steps, as he stepped into Nyx’s nursery. 

Feyre had taken months to finally get the nursery the way she envisioned it. She had wanted Nyx’s room to encompass the entirety of Prythian as they were unsure what powers Nyx might hold. 

Each wall of the room was a canvas of vibrant colors and intricate designs including the bay window that Feyre had insisted be where Nyxs’ bassinet be. 

Painting the Spring Court wall had been a battle unto itself with Rhys and Cassian joking constantly that the wall should be burning to the ground, or that she should paint Tamlin being pursued by a dragon. Feyre had just shot them an obscene gesture and instead painted spring blossoms of pastel pinks and greens. Delicate flowers bloomed amidst emerald meadows, their petals unfurling in the warmth of the sun. Amongst the meadow was a warm pool with a waterfall cascading down a mountainside. 

Opposite, the wall of Summer blazed with the fiery hues of the sun, a tapestry of gold and crimson beamed down onto the deep blue sea, where Tarquin’s white castle glistened atop the white sandstone mountain. 

Next to it, the wall of Autumn was a symphony of earthy greens, oranges, reds, and browns. The Autumn Court forest held deep shadows which made the wheat fields protruding from them seem like shining gold. Lucien had helped Feyre paint this wall, and his awkward-looking, disproportionate deer and fawns clearly showed that. 

Beside the Autumn wall, the Winter Court lay shrouded in a blanket of icy blues and silvery whites. Snowflakes danced amidst frost kissed pines, their branches bending beneath the weight of the winter embrace. Bears and arctic foxes scampered on the piles of snow, wearing the traditional colors. Elain had insisted on giving the little foxes scarves. Azriel had reminded her they were made for that sort of weather but Elain had only glanced at him sadly before saying “But what if they get cold” before she painted tiny mittens on the bears. 

On the half of the ceiling closest to the door, Feyre had painted the Dawn and Day courts. Sunlight streamed through branches of ancient oaks as it rose from the corner of the room, and hills of rolling green with children from each court playing amongst them filled out the space. 

Over Nyxs’ crib, Feyre had painted a deep blue color of the sky with a sparkle of stars strewn across it. Rhys had enchanted the space just below the ceiling to be constantly in motion with sparkling star dust which moved in and out of constellations, with the occasional shooting star flying high above. 

As Nyx continued his tirade of shrill cries, Azriel rocked him around the room, shushing him as much as he could. As he continued to sway gently with Nyx in his arms, the baby began to quiet, his tiny body nestled into Azriels chest as his breaths steadied. With a tender smile, he began to sing, his voice a gentle melody through the darkness, like a whispered prayer. 

“I saw my baby, crying hard as babe could cry,” he sang, “What could I do?” 

With each note, Nyx grew more and more relaxed, his eyelids fluttering closed from the gentle cadence and rocking. 

“My baby’s love had gone and left my baby blue” he sang, his voice soft and tender, “Nobody knew.” 

Azriel watched Nyx’s tiny fingers curl against his chest, his breathing slow and steady and sleep drifted closer. 

“What kind of magic spell to use, slime and snails, puppy dog tails, thunder or lightning,” Azriel continued to sing as he wandered carefully over to the crib. 

“Dance magic, dance magic dance, dance magic dance,” He lowered Nyx into the soft blue oasis. “Jump magic, jump, jump magic, put that baby’s spell on me, kiss my baby, make her free,” Azriel placed his palm onto Nyx’s chest and continued to rub back and forth soothingly. 

“I saw my baby,” He continued, softer, more of a whisper, “Trying hard as babe could try, what could I do?” Azriel dropped to his knees, his fingers tracing the lines of the baby's face as he rested his arm on the side of the bassinet and laid his head atop it. “My baby’s fun had gone, and left my baby blue, nobody knew.” Nyx’s soft pink lips fell open slightly as his eyes finally closed and his head fell to the side. Azriel smiled and found his eyes drifting shut as well. 

Feyre found them the next morning that way. Nyx sprawled on his back, his tiny fingers wrapped around Azriels, and Azriel, a piled heap on the floor, his wings splayed on the floor behind him with his head still resting against the crib. 

Rhys walked up behind her as Feyre motioned him silently. “I guess he does sleep,” she whispered.

“Who?” Rhys chuckled, “Az or Nyx?”

Feyre turned her head to look at Rhys, “Both I guess.” 

Rhys asked Feyre if she planned to go in and wake either of them up but Feyre only shook her head, “I think they both could use a little more time.” 

With that, Feyre shut the door quietly, leaving the warrior and the babe to sleep a little longer.

[galamalion]

┈ ✧.* romance in the red line

┈ ✧.* summary﹕You and Nami attend Vivi's well-planned sleepover, and meet a new face the next day.

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ pairing﹕one piece x fem!reader

┈ ✧.* chapters﹕[i] [ii] [iii] [iv] [v]

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ w/c﹕4.1k

┈ ✧.* chapter v﹕three's a crowd

“Wow, Vivi…” You took a deep breath in, marveling at the architectural wonder before you. “This is…”

“Totally awesome?” Nami chimed in, looking around the room.

“I was gonna say that it rivals the work of Michaelangelo, but that works too…” you replied.

Vivi crouched down and crawled into the blanket-pillow fort, poking her head out and looking up at the two of you.

“Feel free to come in! There are many snacks for us to share and movies to watch!” Vivi said cheerily, tucking herself back into the fort.

Both of you crawled after her, choosing your spots within and diving straight into the generously provided snacks.

Nami shoved a handful of pretzels in her mouth, “You’ve really outdone yourself, Vivi.”

“For sure,” you added. “Having a sleepover wasn’t on my college to-do list, but it definitely should have been.”

“And without the boys!” Nami cheered, kicking her legs excitedly. “No Luffy here to eat all the food!”

Vivi smiled at you both, “I’m glad you are enjoying the sleepover! I don’t have any siblings, so I have perfected the art of fort-making from a young age…”

“Well, that’s what friends are for!” You took a couple pretzels from the bowl. “Now we can do all sorts of things you couldn’t do back then.”

“And we can drink!” Nami interrupted, stealing a pretzel from you.

You rolled your eyes, moving over to the laptop to pick a movie, “I’ll leave the drinking to you, Nami.”

“Really?” she snickered. “You seemed pretty open to it when we were at the Baratie. If I can remember correctly, Sanji had to carry you back to the dorm…”

“How the hell would you know that?” you gaped, crossing your arms defensively. “You drank more than I did!”

Nami laughed, crossing her arms proudly, “I can hold my liquor pretty well, for your information! I’ve outdrank at least 30 grown men before!”

“What an accomplishment, Nami!” Vivi clapped.

You grimaced at Vivi’s cheeriness, “Don’t congratulate her for that, Vi…”

“Any more interesting bits of information from you, ____? A story we’ve yet to hear, maybe a long lost love? Or perhaps you and Sanji…”

“Nope, not a thing,” you quickly countered.

“Oh, you’re no fun!” Nami pouted.

You were quick to bring this party back on track, and away from your own personal life, moving to the laptop to search for movies.

“Alright, what are we thinking, gang? Romance? Comedy? Horror?”

Nami made a gagging noise, “Ew, no horror, please. I’m here for a good night, not a nightmare-filled one.”

“I do love romance!” Vivi said excitedly, looking over your shoulder with Nami at the selection of movies.

“Also, I want something classic!” Nami reached for the laptop, scrolling endlessly for movies. “And no superhero stuff, or future-y stuff.”

“Ok, well, we’ve got Clueless, Mean Girls, 10 Things I Hate About You…”

“10 Things I Hate About You!” Nami shrieked, reaching over and clicking on the movie before you could stop her.

Vivi gave Nami a confused look, “I’ve never seen it before, is it good?”

Nami scoffed, “Only the best romance movie of all time! Trust me, Vi, you’re in for a treat.”

“Agreed,” you added, “it’s at least in the top ten best movies of all time.”

“Make that top five,” Nami corrected, leaning back into the pillows.

“I’m glad to be experiencing it, then!” Vivi cheered, joining Nami in her cushioned throne.

You cracked your knuckles, “Alright, ladies! Movie’s starting now, I expect all phones to be silenced and all mouths to be zipped! Now, please enjoy the show.”

“Ok, mom,” Nami quipped, throwing her arms behind her head.

“You wish I was your mom.”

“Nuh uh, my mom’s already the greatest mom, like, ever!" Nami hissed, sticking her tongue out at you.

“Yeah, I already know, we had a fantastic time last night.” You grinned, copying Nami’s pose.

You earned a pillow to the face for that joke.

.

.

.

“I knew it! They belonged together from the start!” Vivi sobbed as the credits rolled, throwing her face into a nearby pillow and staining it with her tears.

“It’s a romantic comedy, Vi,” you said, pinching your nose, “you’re not supposed to be crying.”

Vivi’s lip wobbled, “I can’t help it…”

“Shh…there, there, Vi,” Nami cooed, rubbing the poor girl’s shoulders. “Be nice, ____! It was her first time seeing the movie of a lifetime.”

“It was a romantic comedy, ” you groaned, laying down in the mass of pillows.

Nami hummed, giving Vivi her blanket before collapsing down beside you.

“Tell you what, girls,” Nami yawned, pulling her sleeping mask over her head. “We absolutely need to go shopping soon. I know we all need a break after this heart-wrenching cinematic experience.”

“It was a fucking romantic comedy!”

“Well, so was the Fault in our Stars, and I cried at that!”

“You’re supposed to!” you yelled, hitting Nami with a pillow, “it’s not a comedy!”

“Comedy, shmomedy,” Nami shrugged, “you in for a shopping trip, Vi?”

Vivi smiled, her blanket pulled up to her chin, “Yes, it sounds very fun! I would love to go out with the two of you again!”

“Well, I suppose that depends on our little roomie,” Nami smiled devilishly, turning towards you. “You in, ____?”

You grimaced as the two girls looked at you expectantly, waiting for an answer you didn’t want to give. Nami’s eyes were dark and knowing, while Vivi’s were light and full of happiness, unaware that Nami would probably coerce her into paying. You were more than capable of saying no to Nami, but Vi? A world with a sad Vivi was a world you couldn’t bear to live in.

“...How about Friday evening, after classes?” you muttered.

“Perfect!” Nami cheered, sliding the sleeping mask down to cover her eyes. “I’ll see you girls then. Just text me when you two are out of class and we can head out!”

“A terrific plan!” Vivi said, snuggling into her pillow. “I will see you both in the morning, good night!”

“Yeah, night, Vi,” you murmured to yourself, fearing for the safety of your wallet.

And so you joined their roommates in their quests for sleep, shutting your eyes and curling up in the mound of blankets and pillows surrounding you, giving you a very cushioned send off to the world of dreams.

*⋆✧*.𖥔⋆☆⋆𖥔.*✧⋆*

“...up, ____,” a voice mumbled above you, though you were hardly able to make out their words on account of the pillows smothering your ears.

Instead of responding, you just rolled to your side and pulled the fluffy comforter over your body, deciding that whatever the person was trying to tell you wasn’t worth it. You could decipher it in a minute, or five. Hell, why not just make it ten?

“Wake up!” the voice, now shouting, called out.

The dull pain in your ears was nothing compared to the unexpected pain in your face as a pillow hurled at top speed smacked you in the head.

“Hey!” you shrieked, clutching your cheek and looking around frantically. Nami stood above you, fully dressed with a hand on her hip, brows furrowed. 

“Are you kidding me? How many times are we gonna have to wake you up?” she huffed, throwing a pile of clothes at you. “You’re lucky I set my alarm for earlier, you still have time to get ready.”

“My savior,” you groaned, examining the clothes laid before you. “Thanks for the clothes, though.”

Nami certainly had style, and it wasn’t hard to see with her daily outfits. What she picked for you chic, but comfortable enough to walk to your classes in, and wasn’t that the college dream?

“Oh it’s nothing, just something I threw together for you,” she giggled. “Vi’s in the shower right now, so once she’s done and dressed we can head out, ‘kay?”

“Got it, girl boss.” You rose from the jumbled mess of pillows and blankets and stepped carefully over to the closed bathroom door, gingerly knocking.

“Vi, it’s me! Mind if I come in for a sec?” you called out.

A muffled ‘yes’ came from the other side, so you creaked the door open and stepped inside with your bundle of clothes, doing your best to get dressed as quickly as possible.

“Sorry for the intrusion, Vivi,” you apologized, slinging the top over your shoulders.

“Ah, it’s no problem, really!” she said from behind the glass walls of the shower. “I hope you had a good night’s rest after our sleepover.”

You scoffed, “Oh, believe me, the rest was wonderful. It was the wake up call that sucked.”

Vivi laughed heartily, the sound echoing in the cramped bathroom, “This is the second time Nami has woken you up, yes? I am glad I missed this time, the first was quite…brutal.”

“Be lucky you’re not on her bad side, Vi,” you snorted, pulling your phone out.

Aside from notifications from games and emails, you did have a couple unread texts from Sanji this morning.

| Mr. Prince: Good morning Sleeping Beauty!!!!! | Mr. Prince: &lt;333333333 Read 8:12 AM | You: lol i swear you say the same thing every morning | You: do all the women in your life get the princess treatment? | Mr. Prince: Just you! | Mr. Prince: I swear princess <33333 | You: swear your loyalty to me and i’ll believe you | Mr. Prince: ;3; | Mr. Prince: If it means earning your love… | Mr. Prince: I’ll do it!!!! | You: lol i’m just kidding | You: pls don’t do anything rash | Mr. Prince: ;3; | You: go forth and take care of every princess!! | You: that is my command | Mr. Prince: You are too kind!! | Mr. Prince: I wilokgopp;;;;;

You raised an eyebrow as Sanji’s final text, clearly too disordered to be anything except for a violet keyboard smash.

| You: did you die prince charming? | You: it’s only like 8 in the morning lol | Mr. Prince: its zoro | Mr. Prince: sanji needs to get ready so im taking his phone away | Mr. Prince: see u guys at 9 | Mr. Prince: Attachment (1) Image

The picture featured was a selfie of Zoro and a very angry Sanji, the latter attempting to wrestle the phone out of the former’s hands. You could also make out a very blurry Luffy crawling over a horrified Usopp in the background, clearly trying to be a part of the picture.

“I’ll give you some space, Vi,” you said, exiting the bathroom and making your way over to Nami amongst the mess of comforters.

“I got a text from Sanji—well, from Zoro, technically. They’re planning on heading down at nine, if that’s cool,” you said, sitting beside her.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Nami responded, scrolling through her phone. “We’ll probably have a few minutes to kill, depending on how fast Vivi can get ready.”

Vivi’s voice rang out from the bathroom, “I will be out shortly, do not worry!”

“Take your time, Vi!” you shouted back before turning to Nami. “Judging by Zoro’s texts, Sanji might be a while.”

“That tracks,” Nami sighed, a smile slowly forming on her face. “Knowing him, he’s probably ironing his suit right now.”

“Or curling his eyebrows.”

“Or waxing his shoes.”

Vivi’s head poked out of the bathroom, clearly trying to hold back her laughter.

“Perhaps,” she giggled, “he is powdering his nose!”

The room was silent for a second before the three of you burst into laughter, doubling over at your stupid jokes. You could afford wasting a couple of minutes to laugh, unknowing that the boys were, indeed, waiting for Sanji to finish ironing his suit.

“Pancakes aren’t that bad, Vi,” Nami said, drizzling her stack of pancakes in tangerine syrup. “You just gotta add what you like on top!”

“Yeah, Vivi!” Luffy said, voice muffled as he stuffed his face with his seventh pancake. “You’ve got syrup, sugar, butter, ice cream, gravy, meat—”

“You can’t put meat on pancakes, Luffy,” you pointed out, sliding your plate further away from Luffy’s potential grasp.

“Sure you can!” Sanji said, carefully decorating his own stack. “There’s plenty of traditional recipes that utilize meat and ‘pancake’, though I’m not sure you could call every example a pancake…”

“I’m saying you can’t put meat on pancakes like how Luffy does it.” You gestured to Luffy’s plate, which consisted of pancakes with huge pieces of steak and chicken on top. 

“They’re not even serving steak right now!” Usopp hissed, looking at Luffy’s food with a mixture of awe and terror. “This is crazy! He’s crazy!”

“Pancakes don’t have any special nutritional benefits, but they are yummy,” Chopper remarked, taking a bite of his cotton candy-covered pancakes.

“I will stick to rice, but I thank you for your unique perspectives,” Vivi said, giving a polite smile to everyone.

“Here here,” Zoro agreed, taking a sip from his bottle.

“Stop drinking during breakfast, you have classes afterwards,” you whispered, nudging his shoulder.

“I’ll quit when I’m dead,” he responded unflinchingly, taking another swig.

You sighed, continuing to eat your meal amidst your chattering table of friends. Every conversation seemed to switch, both in topic and participants, every five minutes. You were able to catch details about the introduction of new majors—as if Grand Line didn’t have enough—as well as the topic of Luffy’s potential major.

“Come on, Luffy,” Usopp said, pointing his fork in Luffy’s direction, “you’re gonna have to choose a major soon. Why not try engineering?”

“I don’t wanna do math!” he pouted.

“You could do exercise science like Zoro,” Nami added. “Isn’t Ace doing something similar?”

Zoro hummed in agreement, “I think you’d like it, Luf. You’ve gotta learn a little bit, but you might like it.”

“But I don’t wanna copy Ace!” Luffy cried, shoveling more food into his mouth.

“If you’re interested in it, then you’re not copying,” you reassured. 

“But I’m not interested.”

The table sighed in unison, knowing that any hope of finding Luffy a major would be short-lived on account of his short attention span.

“Well, you can always talk to your advisor,” Sanji concluded, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Or your brothers. They’re juniors, aren’t they? Should have plenty of experience.”

“Oh, yeah!” Luffy exclaimed, practically jumping out of his seat. “I bet Sabo would know what to do! He’s way smarter than Ace!”

“I wouldn’t say that out loud, Luf,” a blond man sitting behind Luffy said, turning to face your group. “You know how Ace gets when you compare us.”

Luffy’s momentary confused expression turned to one of glee as he tackled the man, grabbing onto him like a koala.

“Sabo!” he shrieked, earning the attention of nearly half the cafeteria.

“I think I remember something like this happening with the other brother,” Usopp grimaced, looking all around as if something would hit him at any moment.“Has he been there the whole time?” you whispered to Nami.

“I’ve only started sitting here since last week,” Sabo replied, giving you a knowing smile. “I heard Ace had a rather ostentatious entrance, so I thought I’d surprise Luffy in a little quieter way.”

“...I’m not sure you can call this quiet,” Nami said, watching Luffy squeeze Sabo rather violently.

“Does this mean Luffy’s off our hands?” Sanji asked, peeking over at the reunion.

Sabo seemed to think for a minute, looking between Luffy and your group, before saying, “I doubt he’ll let go in time for his classes, so I can take him for a bit.”

“Sounds good to me!” Nami cheered, standing up from the table. “We should all head to class anyway.”

“Have fun on your field trip, Luffy!” Vivi smiled, waving at Luffy before dashing out of the cafeteria with Nami.

You grabbed your plate and turned to Chopper, “Do you have class right now, Chopper? I’m heading over to the science building to talk to a professor before my biology lab, so we might be heading the same way.”

“I have my chemistry lab there in a bit!” Chopper said.

“Perfect, we can head over now.” You smiled, before thinking for a second. “Are you in organic chemistry, Chopper? Or are you in some higher class?”

“No, I’m still in general chemistry,” Chopper nodded excitedly, but then looked down at his feet. “I think I’m in your class…” 

“Oh, shit,” you blurted, feeling guilty. “Where do you sit? I don’t think I’ve seen you in class before…”

“In the front.”

“...Really?”

Chopper blushed, looking embarrassed, “I can’t see when I sit in the back…”

“Well, I can sit up there with you tomorrow!” you offered. “If that’s not a problem, that is. It might be nice to have someone to talk to.”

“I’d like that!” Chopper smiled, picking up his bag. “But we should head over now, before all the spots get taken.”

You slung your bag over your shoulder, calling back to the table,  “See you guys later! Don’t let Luffy cause too much trouble, please!”

Sabo waved back, laughing, “I’ll do my best, but he can be unpredictable…”

“Hey!” Luffy shouted, “I’m 100% predictable!”

“That’s not—”

Before the conversation could grow into an uncontrollable argument, you escaped with Chopper in tow. Luffy may be unpredictable in seemingly every other aspect of life, but you could certainly predict how that was going to go. There would be no winners in that cafeteria, only poor, emotionally-scarred college students.

It’s truly amazing what you can learn from someone despite knowing them for less than a month.

“I fucking hate chemistry, Chopper,” you deadpanned, feeling wrinkles etch on your face as you looked over the lab you’d gotten on Tuesday.

You’d been sitting at one of the few tables in the building, trying to get a start on your lab before Chopper finished completing the in-class portion of his, but you’d been struggling with question two for roughly the entirety of Chopper’s lab, leaving you feeling hopeless, even with the aid you’d received from the professor.

Chopper looked shocked, joining you at the table, “It’s not that bad! I promise it’ll get better, ____! If you want, I can help you study?”

“Truly, Chopper,” you sighed, “I think I’m a lost cause. But I’ll still take you up your offer.”

You dug your phone out of your pocket and opened your contacts, swapping info with Chopper. Another friend to add to the collection, and this one had inherent value to your major!

“Thanks, Chop.” You smiled, tucking your phone away. “I should probably head to my psych class now, so good luck with your lab.”

“Thank you, ____!” Chopper beamed, waving you goodbye.

Luckily, your psych class was in the next building over, so you didn’t have to worry about being late. In fact, the only thing you had to worry about was your chemistry lab. Psychology wasn’t too hard for you, especially back at South Blue High. It was basically just memorization—albeit a lot of memorization—that you didn’t really struggle with. Differentiating ideas could be a tad difficult, but nothing you couldn’t manage. Way better than chemistry, at least.

Your class wasn’t all too great, however. It was full of people who didn’t really want to talk to others, leading to incredibly bland discussion times. Their lack of enthusiasm killed your vibe, so despite the subject being a total snoozefest, you weren’t really looking forward—

“Hey, ____!” Luffy yelled, waving at you from a lone table near the back. 

Sitting beside your rambunctious friend was his brother, Sabo, who also gave you a polite wave.

“...Is this part of the field trip?” you asked Sabo.

“Well, I’m TA-ing for this class, so I thought it might help Luffy to learn about other subjects!” Sabo said, grinning.

“Wait, you’re the TA for this class?” You raised an eyebrow, setting your bag down at a nearby desk. “I didn’t see you on Wednesday, and you weren’t introduced either.”

Sabo leaned back in his chair, “It was a spur of the moment thing. I’m a sociology major, but I thought I might dabble in psychology. It’s fascinating, the mind, and what you can do with it…”

“You sound like a supervillain.”

“Me? A supervillain?” Sabo gasped, putting a hand over his heart. “I’ll have you know, I am the kindest, gentlest, utmost altruistic gentleman this world has ever seen! Isn’t that right, Luffy?”

Luffy blinked, not a single thought going on behind his eyes, “Sabo is totally awesome! One time Ace dared him to eat a caterpillar, and he did it!”

“...Gentleman, huh?” you snickered.

Sabo shrugged, his grin tugging at one end of his mouth, “What can I say, I was a strange child. But not as strange as Luffy…”

“Hey!” Luffy yelled, shaking Sabo violently as the latter laughed.

“Well, if you have any questions, just ask,” Sabo said, easily pushing Luffy off. “Though, you seem like a smart cookie, so I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

“Or you could ask me!” Luffy shrieked, trying to push back against Sabo.

You laughed, finally taking your seat as class began. With Sabo and Luffy providing you company, the class wasn’t so bad. Sabo was nice to talk to during discussion times, as well as when you were filling out your notes—though it was slightly grating to hear your notes being critiqued. Luffy, despite being reprimanded by the professor multiple times, kept the mood of the entire class up. Luckily Sabo was good at smooth talking, or else Luffy would have probably been expelled. You can only break the same desk so many times before being a lost cause.

As soon as the clock struck 3:20, everyone filed out of the room. You left with Sabo and Luffy, making your way over to the cafeteria for dinner, though Sabo planned on showing Luffy one more class before officially ending their ‘field trip.’

“Has any class struck a chord with you, Luffy?” you asked, glancing over to your friend.

Luffy seemed to think for a moment before speaking, “Nope.”

“Seriously, Luf?” Sabo groaned, pulling on his hair. “Not even sociology? Come one, it’s awesome!”

“I hate sitting in a classroom all day!” Luffy pouted, dragging his feet as he walked. “I wanna do something cool, like being a firefighter!”

“Well, you can bring that up to your advisor,” you offered. “I’m sure there’s a degree that—”

“Fire Fist!”

You felt a tug on your waist as Sabo pulled you ever-so-slightly closer to him and away from Luffy, and within an instant you understood why. Hurling towards Luffy at top speeds was Ace, who tackled Luffy and sailed into the nearby grass patch.

“That’s 572 to 0, Luffy!” Ace cackled, slapping his brother harshly on the back.

Luffy heaved for a couple of seconds, clearly trying to catch his breath after being so blatantly assaulted by his older brother.

“I’ll get you next time,” Luffy scowled, jumping to his feet. “I’ve been working on my punches too!”

“Oh, I’m shaking in my boots,” Ace snorted.

“Now, now, guys,” Sabo said, releasing you. “You almost hurt this poor young lady! What would Dadan say if she saw you now?”

“Don’t leave the house until you’ve done your chores?” Luffy responded, picking his nose.

Ace punched Luffy again, causing the latter to fall over onto the grass. He stepped up back onto the sidewalk, approaching you with an apologetic smile on his face.

“Sorry ‘bout that, ____,” Ace chuckled, scratching his head. “But brothers will be brothers, ya know? Can’t go a day without tackling one of them.”

“I seem to manage just fine,” Sabo coughed.

“...In other news,” Ace said, “I thought I might invite Luffy and his gang of pals—that’s you—to a lovely restaurant in order to celebrate the upcoming hockey season!”

“Is it really hockey season? School literally just started,” you deadpanned.

Ace barked out a laugh, “Every season is hockey season, baby! Now, I have other plans currently that I’m 10 minutes late for—”

“You’re what ?” Sabo’s eyes widened as he turned to Ace.

“—and I need to be there soon, so I’ll take your stunned silence as a ‘yes’ to coming, and I’ll see you Saturday night at eight!”

Before you could even respond to Ace’s outlandish statements, he sprinted away as quickly as he came, dashing through—not around—groups of people, knocking over countless bystanders as he ran away.

“Your brother is a work of art, Sabo,” you finally said, feeling breathless watching Ace’s escape.

Sabo only snorted, looking down amusedly as his little brother rolled angrily through the grass.

“Which one?”

“...Fair point.”

tag list: @sylum , @dimplewonie , @kingofthemfingpirates , @luuffyswife

[doctorofmagic]

Why magic in the MCU has failed

I remember the "good" old days when Doctor Strange was about to debut back in 2016. I was obsessed with spotting every single little magic detail in the MCU in the hope that magic would slowly grow in status and importance, only to give up after so much disappointment.

But the major issue? The moment Feige stated that every side project was a part of the MCU. People who experienced phase 1 and 2 will remember that magic was a taboo. "It's just science we don't understand yet". While it's a common line quoted by Marvel's greatest geniuses, we all know it's pure arrogance on their part. Otherwise, they'd be doing what magic users do.

It was not MCU's case. Magic was INDEED treated as science. From Ghost Rider's portal being reproduced by a robot through the Darkhold to Wanda's powers being a product of an experiment but not explained at all. From a loooong season of Cloak and Dagger taking its time to finally introduce magic elements to Nico's staff almost falling to the same old "technology" trope. From whatever is happening in Asgard to Loki's limited magic. It's frustrating, but we'd still find a way to turn the tables, right? The Dark Dimension was introduced (twice?), the (third) Darkhold was finally attached to Chthon, Morgana and Lorelei debuted, Nico's powers were finally acknowledge as magic... So what happened?

My best guess? Structure.

There's no structure to define what is magic in the MCU. Doctor Strange (2016) tried. Really hard. And, although it got several things right, it failed in two fundamental aspects: pre-established comic book knowledge and magic deities.

Remember how we got three Darkholds? The first was just so detached from magic that it became a book used to create a VIRTUAL world in Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. The second was used by Morgan le Fey, but how was she associated with the Dark Dimension? Moreover, that was NOT the Dark Dimension from the first DS movie (or any comic book, really). Its last appearance, as seen in WandaVision and DSITMOM, finally mentioned Chthon, but it literally did NOTHING it was supposed to do. That MCU!Wanda has nothing to do with her 616 version, this is not new. But if we're going to use comic books as foundation to adapt a story, the very bare minimum you can do is do it right. Point is, the book does corrupt people, but it's because of Chthon's influence and his connection to Wanda. Where's Chthon in the movie? The corruption was badly explored and her journey towards evil and redemption doesn't make any sense from a magic point.

Now, the "main" magic cast in the MCU could have worked... Except that there's little to no information regarding how Kamar-Taj works as a temple/school for new sorcerers. And worse even, magic isn't connected to its deities. Sure, there were a few name drops, but does it explain where it comes from? And who chooses the next sorcerer supreme if the Vishanti isn't involved?

The truth is, magic was all over the place, and the creative minds were either too oblivious to the importance of learning about how magic works in comics (to the point of adapting a second Dark Dimension that has nothing to do with the original one) or too shy to introduce a magic hierarchy (as in, deities).

There's an actual attempt to create this structure now, but it's too late. Sure, you can ignore past tv shows, but the mess remains. Eternity was supposed to be an abstract entity, deeply connected to magic, cosmic aspects and life itself.

Loki is still so embarrassing because the very foundation of Asgardian mythos started wrong (and why is that? Because no magic, of course!). While I find funny that Stephen trapped Loki in an endless freefall, there's no way the god of stories would be humiliated like that. Loki being taught magic by his alts is infuriating (and it's, again, mostly illusions).

Remember when Stephen was beaten by math? That also happened.

This is the moment I completely give up to see magic portrayed at its fullest, in all its beauty and complexity. Because it's not treated the way it deserves. It has never been.

And here's my boldest take: if you really wish to see the full potential of magic in the MCU, go for What If. The price you pay, the cosmic proportion of being misused, the creative elements... It's all there. Which is sad because it's not the main timeline. Anyways, this is it.

PS: This post may age poorly as DS3 comes out in 20 years. Let's wait and see.

[itsawritblr]

Vincent Price about being Ratigan.

Via Cartoon Research:

Vincent Price: “It was the first time in 45 years I had to audition. I was furious with them. I had done more than a hundred pictures and if they didn’t know what my voice sounded like then the hell with them.

“After a while I realized I was being very silly and egotistical. They knew my voice but they weren’t sure whether I could adapt to the style of acting required by the role. So, like a kid, I tried out.

“The voice is crucial in the animated film. I guess mine evokes a certain mystery….or horror or melodrama and that’s what they wanted for this character.

If I have added anything to the history of villainy, it’s a sense of fun.

“The trouble with actors now is they mumble and grumble their arts. Everything is understated to the point of absurdity. You expect something larger-than-life, not smaller.

“The director would urge me on, telling me to make it bigger and bigger. To get that big sound out, I naturally gestured and made faces. I’d come back four months later and see more of the film and find that my gestures and expressions had crept in. The eyebrows especially.

“They told me that they based the part on my performance in Champagne for Caesar (1950). My character was took himself absolutely seriously and yet could see how ridiculous he was. He was Howard Hughes’ favorite character. He gets shot in the arm and says, ‘Oh my god, it’s real blood!’

“Rattigan is the same. For instance every once in a while one of his frightened henchmen call him a rat. He’s furious, because he thinks of himself as merely a large mouse. So he feeds the poor henchmen to his pet cat.

“Rattigan finds himself hystertically funny. He’s in the marvelous tradition of Disney villains. He’s mad, mad, mad! I do adore Rattigan.

“I did it because one should never stop. That’s the first rule. Keep going. Do everything, even cartoons. If you don’t, you stop. And stopping stinks.”

BTW, because too many people don't know it, this movie is based on the children's book series Basil of Baker Street by Eve Titus.

"The World's Greatest Criminal Mind" is one of the best things Henry Mancini composed.

I saw this when it first opened in theaters. Disney movies had been shit for years, and this was seen as the first animated movie of their new beginning. But some adults freaked out.

It's main character, Basil (Sherlock Holmes) didn't like kids.

Characters drank alcohol, and one got falling-down drunk.

A character who wasn't the villain was murdered (they only showed it in silhouette, but even that was too much for some critics).

There was a strip-tease, and Watson loved it.

Ratigan's Mad Scene was too mad.

Some wanted the movie banned. It wasn't. It didn't do that well -- it wasn't what Disney fans were nostalgic for -- but several critics praised it. Over time, it became a classic, mostly, I believe, because of Vincent Price.

[lokidokieokie]

Beyond the Pages | Chapter #1 - Into the Unknown

Series Summary: It was just your weekly trip to the comic-book store. While looking for a comic for your collection, you stumble upon an old-looking book, with an odd combination of symbols on the cover. You, being drawn to the weirdness of it, pick it up and open the cover. A strange force surrounded your person; and the next thing you knew, you were waking up on the steps of what looked to be 177A Bleecker Street. What had you gotten yourself into?

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): none that I can think of, lemme know if I've forgotten something

You blinked in confusion as you looked at the world around you. The last thing you remember was holding that old comic book. And now you're lying on the steps of a building that you'd pretty much memorised. A building straight from the scene of your favourite movie.

You sat up slowly, trying to rub the ache in your head away as you tried to make sense of what was happening. Your mind was reeling. This couldn't be real. Something must've happened and you passed out. You were dreaming; you had to be.

The sound of the Sanctum door opening, and someone clearing their throat brought you out of your thoughts. There in all his 1.83m glory, stood Doctor Stephen Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme; your hero.

He took one look at you and sighed, "I suppose you're the reason for the cosmic shift?"

You gulped, a lump forming in your throat. This was the Stephen Strange. The most notorious neurosurgeon the Marvel Universe had even seen; probably the greatest Sorcerer Supreme in the multiverse...and you were sitting at his doorstep like some drugged out weirdo.

With your eyes wide with embarrassment, you quickly stood up and squeaked. You swore you saw a flash of amusement in his eyes at the sound.

"Now I'm only going to ask this once, because, quite frankly, I have other problems I need to attend to. What master do you serve?"

You giggled at that. That line was ten times better said in person than any movie could ever portray.

"Does that line work on anybody?"

His eyebrows raised, "All answers so far lead to no."

You smiled, "I didn't think so."

You swear his lips almost quirked up in a smirk, and that made you feel a rush of relief. Maybe now he wasn't going to banish you or cast some sort of spell on you. But the situation itself was still bewildering.

"I'm sorry for my lack of manners," you said, fidgeting with the comic book in your hands. "I didn't mean to intrude in the Sanctum."

Stephen seemed to study you intently, his gaze seemingly piercing through your soul. "You possess an otherworldly energy," he said, his voice calm yet laced with curiosity. "It's unlike anything I've encountered before. How did you come to possess it?"

You blinked, taken aback by his astute observation. Maybe he's a sort of Sherlock in every universe...

"I- I don't know how I got here," you stammered, struggling to find the right words. "One minute I was holding this comic book in a store, then everything went...strange--no pun intended. Next thing I knew, I was here on your doorstep."

His expression softened as he listened to your words. "An enchantment," he murmured to himself, "Multiversal travel?"

A look of clarity flashed across his face, "The Nexus of All Realities."

You tilted your head, confusion written across your face, "The nexus of what now?"

"It's sort of a cosmic crossroads," Stephen began to explain, his voice laced with a bit of fascination and caution. "A convergence of different dimensions and realms. If you were holding an artefact connected to the Nexus, it's possible that it transported you here."

You glanced down at the comic book in your hands, suddenly seeing it in a new light. "So, this comic book...it's more than just a collectors item?"

Stephen nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "In this reality, it seems to hold a deeper power. And by some twist of fate, it brought you to our world."

A mix of excitement and trepidation coursed through your veins. You, like many other Marvel fans, had read countless fanfics about the possibility of shifting or travelling to the Marvel Universe; but now that it's come to fruition, it was both thrilling and overwhelming.

"Are you alright?"

You let out a shocked laugh, "It's just, I-I'm just a huge fan," you admitted, a sheepish grin spreading across your face. "I never expected to end up in the Marvel Universe. It's like a dream come true! But, I don't know what to do about it."

Stephen's eyes softened, a glimmer of understanding shining within them. "Rest assured, I will do everything in my power to help you, uh..."

"Oh! Y/n, my name is Y/n."

He smiled, "I will do everything in my power to help you, Y/n."

You nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and nervousness. "Thank you, Doctor Strange."

He inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Trust, Y/n, is not something that I hand out freely, so we'll start somewhere simple. Call me Stephen."

With a wink, Stephen led you into the Sanctum, where a whole new world of possibilities was awaiting for you...you just didn't seem to know it yet.

A/N I'm so sorry for this taking so long...I've been so caught up with life. Here is my little going away present.

🏷 @thewaithfuckingannoyme @evelyn-kingsley @moonlight-ee @fall-myriad @ironstrange1991 @night-spectrum 

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 30 – FIX-IT

SERIES: Post-Infinity War Snippets by romanoff

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 7,059 Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD

Reasons why I love it: At this point, it's probably no secret that I love everything that romanoff has ever written, and this collection of one-shots includes some of my favorite fics of theirs. The pain is so raw and real, and since Infinity War was one of the first Marvel movies I ever watched (I know, I was a late bloomer) this part of canon is especially near and dear to my heart. I really hope you check them out, because they're all amazing.

This series consists of:

ashes to ashes, dust to dust

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 2,133 Tags: Loss, Mentions of Tony/Pepper, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Written for the prompt: hi i don't know if you're active on this blog but i read your last prompt on ao3 and i was wondering if you could give me some tony/steve angst post infinity war?? any closure will do no pressure thank u bye Steve and Tony seek closure with a conversation.

Reasons why I love it: Well, shoot me in the heart, why don't you? Seeing Tony so broken after what happened in Infinity War just breaks my heart, even more so than the movies did. And the way Steve approaches him is so tender despite everything. I love this fic so much, and if you're looking for some canon-adjacent angst, this one is a must-read!

all that remains

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 1,269 Tags: Loss, PTSD, BAMF Nebula

Summary: Nebula and Tony are left on Titan, united by a common goal

Reasons why I love it: I love how Nebula's response to trauma and grief is to become absolutely ruthless in pursuing her revenge, by any means necessary. And her introspections about Tony are super interesting, they really paint a picture of who they both are in this universe. I love this fic, and I bet you will too!

earth's greatest defender

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 818 Tags: Civil War, Flip Phone, Misunderstandings

Summary: Written for the prompt: 'your post-IW snippets are killing me in the best way AHHHHHH - could you write the call scene between bruce and steve, with steve thinking at first that it was Tony calling? that would be amazing, thank you!' Steve gets the call sitting in an old motel outside Albany.

Reasons why I love it: I've recommended this fic on its own before, but you bet your ass I'm going to do it again. The dialogue in this really gets under my skin, Steve's pain is so palpable. And I love that last sentence at the end, it's just the right kind of gut punch to leave off with. The angst is amazing, and if you want to get a little crushed today, definitely read this one!

when the dust settles

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 2,839 Tags: Team as Family, Heavy Angst, Fluff

Summary: What’s left of the Avengers regroup and offer each other some much needed support.

Reasons why I love it: This is so fucking sad and yet strangely cathartic at the same time. I know this doesn't really scream fix-it, but to me it still kind of does. Because with the team back together again and relearning to trust each other, I like to believe that in this timeline, they really do manage to save everyone. I love all of these fics, so I really hope you go and experience it for yourself!

[pawnshopbleus]

Put Me in a Movie - Chapter Fifteen, Part One

Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary - You’re a famous actress and he’s one of the greatest directors of all time. What happens when you get cast in his new movie? 

Chapter Fourteen

You didn’t mean to yell, but you were so overwhelmed and the words started to tumble out. The day started out very nicely. You woke up in Miguel’s arms, you had breakfast with each other, then, the two of you parted ways. Today was the start of the press tour for your newest film. It was not going to be long. Just a few stops around the United States. It was going to start in Los Angeles and it would end in New York City. Just in time for a very beautiful Christmas in New York City.

All of your bags were packed the previous afternoon. All you had to do was sit in a chair while your team worked their magic. When they were done with you, you looked like a brand new person. Your stylist picked out a stunning black velvet dress that made you look like a million bucks. 

You got picked up in a long stretch limousine that was empty when you got in. The ride was silent and lonely. If only you had someone to ride with you. 

Once you got out of the limo, camera lights flash causing you to be temporarily blinded by the lights. A security guard escorted you to the red carpet where you would strike a few poses before going inside the theater. It was a simple task really, but one thing stopped it. 

In the middle of the red carpet stood Tasia in a beautiful green evening gown. You hated to admit it, but she looked more beautiful than you remembered. She was posing for the camera, a different pose for each click and flash. 

How the hell did she get in here? you thought to yourself. No one on the cast and crew liked her enough to invite her back for the press tour. She must have weaseled her way into the venue with some sort of bribery. That just goes to show that the security was no good at keeping the bad people out. 

Tasia could feel your eyes burning holes into her skin. She turned around and winked at you before walking into the venue. You couldn’t let people see how you were visibly affected by the gesture so you straightened your back and smiled at the cameras. 

Inside the theater was magical. It was as if you were transported into a classy eighties-themed theater. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, mirrors aligned the walls, and retro neon lights weaved their way throughout the theater. 

Miguel wasn’t there yet which was quite concerning. Your boyfriend hates being late to any certain event so when you entered the theater filled with journalists, cast, and crew, you were surprised of his absence. You were also surprised to not see Tasia’s fiery red hair in the midst of all these people. You needed to know why and how she was there. Luckily, as you scanned the area you were able to see a sliver of ginger hair and a green dress enter the bathroom. 

You hastily made your way to the lady's room and looked around. No one was looking at you at the current moment. That was good.

The bathroom was just as nice as the inside of the theater. Stalls that provided efficient privacy, skins that had warm water as well as cold, soap, and paper towels. You weren’t here to marvel at the greatness of the bathroom but on a mission to find the woman who poses a threat to your relationship. 

“I knew you would follow me,” Tasia said as she exited the stall. She let her hands run under the water for twenty seconds, washing the flowery-scented soap off of them. 

“Why are you here?” You got straight to the point. 

“Look, I’m not here to argue with you. I just want to see the film that I was once a part of. The way I acted was wrong and I’d like to apologize.” 

You were stunned. It was as if you had just gotten the wind knocked out of you. Here you were acting all judgemental and all Tasia wanted to do was apologize. To be quite frank, you felt like a bitch.  

“I don’t know what to say,” you let out a breath, “Thank you for the apology but I just want to know why?” 

“Because I was in the wrong. I saw the way Miguel looked at you and it made me jealous. You’re such a great actress and a really nice person. I guess I’ve never met someone so sincere.” Tasia sighed as she stared off into space. 

“But you’re so beautiful. Why did you feel jealous of me?” you asked. 

“Beauty fades, but raw talent is forever. You have both. All I’ve got is a pretty face and rich parents. It got me to where I am today, but I hate it. I want people to like me for me and not just because I’m pretty or the daughter of famous parents. It gets tiring!” Tasia said that with such passion that it almost made you cry. You felt bad for her. She has lived a life many women would kill for, yet she’s so unhappy. That just goes to show that money can't buy you happiness. 

You didn’t ask if you could give her a hug, but you just felt inclined to give her one. Her skin was smooth and hairless. You caught a whiff of her perfume and it smelled like a fresh bouquet of flowers that were just picked from the field. She hugged you closer to her and let out a sigh into your neck. 

“Thank you,” She whispered, “I needed this.”

Chapter Fifteen - Part Two - Comming soon

[dranna]

Be Careful what you Wish for - a Wish rewrite

~ Prologue ~

Chapter 1

summary:

King Magnifico created his kingdom to protect his people because he knows what tragedies one single wish can cause, however when one entitled 17-year-old girl decided that the way he is dealing with the population's wishes is 'unacceptable', he must step in to protect the inhabitants of his kingdom, even if it means he has to use the book, he swore to never touch again...

Who is the villain and who is the hero?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ contents: noting clear yet but there will be graphic descriptions of violence and death later on, Asha is the villain of the story, there is NO goat. I’ll add the warnings at the beginning of every chapter <3

a/n: I started writing during sleepless nights. I didn't watch the whole movie bc I didn't find it enjoyable from the start, so there will be a lot of things from my imagination. I would say I stopped watching it around the 30 minutes mark ^^’

I've never written anything longer then a one shot, so it will be an interesting journey for me. Thank you for stopping by and reading it:)

- English is not my first language -

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

Once upon a time, there was a young and passionate man, serving a rotted and jealous king. The king had everything he wanted: immense wealth where gold grew like grass everywhere he stepped, a huge kingdom where peace bloomed in every corner, loyal men, women, happy children but  the most important of all: Power. 

However he wanted more . 

Since he walked on this earth, he had everything his heart wished for. So now, as he was sitting on his icy gold throne made by busy hands for a spoiled child, he commended the youthful man to create something for him. An object that will turn into something terrible, evil and full of hate, masked with the promise of unlimited knowledge. 

“Magnifico” - he once called the hopeful lad - “ you are the greatest apprentice I could ask for, loyal to my crown and your homeland..” - the king started his poisonous honey speech, whispering harmless sounding lies into his ear.  Besides being young and full of hope, Magnifico was also a naive and trusting soul. He listened to his king’s lies, never doubting the intent behind his tongue.  “ I have a great wish I need you to fulfill. I want you to design a book, which contains all knowledge of sorcery. A book! If someone reads from it, they magically become the most powerful in the world!” 

What wrong can one wish do?  Hung the question above the sorcerer's head, as he excited the throne room. 

Magnifico was so excited to create this book. He imagined true things being done with his creation: helping people? Putting a stop to the gut wrenching illnesses of humanity? Stopping wars , and — oh! Spawn food out of thin air?  In his mind the possibilities were endless.  However, never in his wildest nightmares could he think about the events which were born from his work. 

His loving wife warned him many times, asked, weeped and begged to not do something so terrific yet marvelous for a man like the king, but Magnifico didn’t listen. It was the first of his lists of mistakes, which will burden him until the rest of his life.

  He worked all day and all night, warm ideas filling his brain and heart, not letting him sleep during nights. A productive fire ate through his muscles and bones, illuminating the twinkling of his azure- blue eyes. 

After months of hard work, he presented the book to the king. 

Upon opening the elegant cover, cosy, silver light-strokes were omitted from the beautifully crafted pages. They gently covered the book opener, always willing to be changed, used and shared. 

To Magnifico’s horror, as months went by, his pure creation started to transform into something vile, painful and barbaric under the hands of his once beloved king. The silver light slowly darkened and lost its welcoming glow, just to make place to dark green, seaweed and tentacle-like forms. They snaked around the sorcerer who opened the earthly cell, bounding and chaining him in both physique and soul, never letting him go. 

The book consumed the king more and more, and with him wasted away his kingdom and its inhabitants. 

Magnifico couldn’t bear to see his creation causing more devastation, he stole the book from the half-dead king leaving him and his wealth to rot. 

With the knowledge he learned about magic and wishes, he created a kingdom with his wife on his side. Promising himself, that he never let any wish to destroy the happiness of his people.  And the book? He locked it deep in his castle, displaying it in his study room as a trophy of shame and deep regret, laughing and creeping its freezing fingers in blood, which he will never be able to wash clean. 

[moramaisis]

Characters: Ascended Astarion x Tav tiefling (Arsenia)

Pairing: M/F

Status: Happily evil together. Arsenia is Astarion's vampire bride. Keywords and warnings: Villain couple, dommy tav, heavy smut, biting, oral sex (m and f), rough/gentle, humping, dark humor, dark romance, unhinged horny women.

Gore & murder in the last chapter. This is horror smut with villains, so beware. If you watch horror movies you should fine.

Summary: Arsenia and Ascended Astarion are having a romantic moment in nature, when they are interrupted by robbers. Poor bastards have walked into a deadly trap without even knowing it. Arsenia decides to put up a show for her beloved vampire. A show that will be hard to forget.

Ao3

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

I find it especially funny that we're still stuck at camp. Astarion received Cazador's palace as his bloody inheritance, and yet here were are. In his tent. I do like it actually, the nature sounds are soothing, not to mention the smell of campfire smoke and the endless starry sky. I love the strong yellow cast of light that emits from live fire, our weary faces encircling the flame suddenly seem less dull.

Tonight, however, we're sitting away from the others. At the top of an old disintegrating tower, watching the tiny crescent moon. Astarion is sitting with his knees bent and i'm spooning him from behind. My arms envelop his shoulders and come to rest at his chest. I spread my legs to be as physically close as possible and so he's wedged between my thighs. His right hand is resting on my knee, gently caressing it with his thumb.

"So many things need to be changed once we move into that castle. The bats can stay, but someone has to become the designated poop scooper. Unless, you can train the bats to use a litter box."

Astarion's voice erupted in a trilling laughter.

"So that's why he kept so many fanatics! Cleaning shit and blood in hope of eternal life is a fate worse than death. But you're right. The palace is in need of a spring cleaning…and has been for a few hundred years. Especially now the biggest pest is gone. "

I smiled and rested my chin on his shoulder, his curls tickling my nose.

"I do like the torture dungeon though, that will come in handy. Not something easily found while house hunting."

"Excited by chains, my treasure? Already counting the cages and assigning shackles? I feel sorry for those poor fools that have crossed you."

"You don't have to go down there you know…. or see any cages." I rubbed my nose against his ear. "I'll make sure all the rooms with bad memories will be cleared out. Maybe even take down a wall or build a two."

Astarion glanced at me and i felt a squeeze on my knee.

"That is very sweet, but you don't have to worry about me anymore. I'm stronger, more powerful than i ever could've imagined. The pathetic past version of me is gone." He paused, adding with a low alluring tone. "I will keep you safe. You're mine."

I held his gaze as a pleasurable sensation fluttered up my loins. I wanted to kiss him, bury my claws into his shoulders and hear him scream my name. But, instead, i just marveled at his features, this gorgeous night, the choir of insects surrounding us. Savoring.

I brushed my cheek against his, smiling.

"Don't say that. You were never pathetic. I fell in love with that version of you, so, by saying that you're insulting me. You were beautiful, full of bloodthirst and revenge. A wolf who has broken its cage and is pacing restlessly. A hunter ready to strike. A hunter licking it's wounds…"

His eyes never left mine as i spoke and his expression changed ever so slightly, it was almost unnoticeable, but for a second he looked like that old Astarion. That one with the saddest eyes. Then it was gone, but he was intently listening, alert and curious.

"My greatest treasure, why are there bards in the world, if you could put them all out of work with just two lines?"

"And you were an asshole. I'm happy to see that never changed." I grinned since he knew i loved to tease him.

Astarion huffed with a smirk.

"Assholes look the best wearing capes and sitting on thrones. Don't you think I'm practicing for my grand finale?"

"You'll need a smaller cape or the crowds will mistake you for a bedsheet blown off the line."

I burst out laughing seeing his baffled face.

"You just had to ruin the moment, didn't you…you wretched little thing!!"

Astarion shoved me to the ground, which didn't take much force at all since i was still laughing. He turned around and climbed on top of me, pinning my wrists into prickly grass. Usually, this kind of move would've made me uneasy, but not with him.

He whispered softly, "only you speak about my past self in such a way. As if it was something worthy of loving. I don't understand why, but i appreciate it."

I lifted my head from the grassy pillow and kissed him, he replied more tenderly than usual. I made him part his lips and turned up the heat. Our kiss became fast and eager. My tail coiled around Astarion's leg, even though a large part of it was pinned underneath us, the squeeze was palpable. He pulled his lips away with noticeable reluctance and slid down onto my neck. My neck muscles bulged as i arched my back, inviting him closer. He didn't waste time and sank his fangs into my flesh. I uttered a faint growl, my body tensing as a sweet tingle of lust spread up from my loins. I thrust my hips against Astarion, wrapping my thigh around his waist.

In the heat of the moment he loosened his grip on my wrist and i broke free. I cupped the back of his head, held him, as he drank from me, i shared my body like a bountiful fountain of eternal youth and desire. My hips writhed in unison, relishing the delicate friction the body above provided. Astarion released my other wrist and moved his hand to my bosom, slid it down my body and slipped under my dress. I wore a long black gown with two slits just for this kind of occasion. His touch was keenly welcomed by my wet folds and he greeted them back by caressing the swollen bud. My hips thrust eagerly against him, my hands grabbing the fabric of his shirt and yanking with such force the fabric tore. His teeth were in my neck, his fingers were inside me and i was ecstatic.

"Oy, look what these ungodly wenches are up to, in plain sight and all!" A mocking voice arose from somewhere in the darkness, accompanied by chuckles and whistling.

My eyes fluttered open, they were hard to miss. Four men standing how far from us? Maybe 10 steps, maybe 15? By the looks of them, and the daggers hanging from their belts, they were here with a purpose. This wasn't my first encounter with peeping toms or robbers. My gaping mouth, that was gasping for breath just seconds ago, turned into a snarl of disgust. Astarion arched his back like an animal, released my neck, and averted his cold red eyes at the speaker.

The blond highwayman stared at him with a grin.

"Good sir, i'm sure you paid a pretty coin for that lass, but you have more than enough for all of us."

My eyes narrowed as i stared the men down, took note of their weapons. I was sure Astarion did the same. He stood up calmly, took my hand and pulled me onto my feet.

Two highwaymen moved closer, it was unclear whether they noticed there's something off about us or not. Their torches cast harsh shadows on our faces.

"Never seen a tiefling selling herself, at least not in these parts. Are they any good? Being so spiky all over?" a voice from the back chirped.

"Your pouch. Give it and you can carry on." The blond made an indecent gesture.

We looked at each other in silence, i could see the anger on Astarion's face. I could've torn through these men like butter, but i was curious to see Astarion's reaction. We were interrupted, i was still horny, wet and yearning for my eternal lover's touch. So, i half-smirked and gave my beloved a playful wink. Astarion's eyes gleamed with excitement, he knew i was up to something…something no good.

I hung my arm around Astarion's neck and kissed him like a widow kissing her resurrected husband. My thigh emerged from the slit, rubbing Astarion up and down, making sure to catch his hardened cock. Astarion's was dragging his nails down my spine, slowly, possessively - he knows how much i adore it!

I parted the kiss and said quietly, "I have a little party trick i'm dying to show you. Eyes on me. As for these fools…they need to die for killing the mood."

Astarion whispered, "Whatever games you're playing, my eyes are always on you, little dragon."

Astarion calling me his little dragon made my giddy with joy… and lust. I'm a draconic bloodline tiefling, so honoring my ancestors is very important to me.

I turned to highwaymen and caressed my breasts. "Tieflings don't sell themselves to just anyone. And this one here is out of your budget."

The highwaymen watched speechlessly, exchanging dirty looks mixed with arrogance. Finally, one stepped forward pulling out his dagger and stabbed me. The dagger didn't even touch my skin, it stopped a centimeter away. Astarion was holding his wrist, tightly enough the robber whimpered.

Astarion's gaze travelled around.

"If you're still here you're either exceptionally stupid or desperate. I'm guessing the first, since you haven't caught on who you're dealing with." Finished, Astarion snapped the man's wrist with a loud crackle. The man screeched and fell on his ass, his hand now flopping around like a meaty puppet.

"What in the hells are you?! Boys, take em, don't run! Take these monsters down!" the blond yelled at his remaining men, who were slowly backing away.

I took off running, my long black dress fluttering behind me, slits tearing, hair a wild mess and pure bloodlust in my eyes. I ran up to the nearest highwayman - his trembling hand gripped a large hunting knife. My reflexes were lightning fast, i kicked him in the balls and he fell to his knees, grunting like a feral pig. He tried to cover his family jewels, but i took a hold of his arm, stretched it out and kneed it from the underside, breaking the joint. The highwayman screamed like a banshee and i repeated the move on his remaining arm. Now, mangled and in horrible pain, the robber simply crawled around on his knees like some deformed animal.

As i was having fun with my prey, the third man tried to escape. Since we were in an overgrown tower there wasn't much coverage of any kind. The man thought the path was clear and sprinted towards an opening. Before he could reach it a cloud of black mist materialized before him. Astarion's face emerged from the misty tendrils - with a furrow on his brow and a grin.

"You wanted my money? So why are you running from me?" He grabbed the robber's throat and lifted his feet off the ground.

"You insulted my consort and that was the moment you sealed your fate. Now, excuse me, i have a surprise waiting for me."

Astarion tightened his grasp until his nails ripped trough the man's throat and he suffocated in a pool of bloody bubbles.

Astarion walked towards the center of action, calm and collected, his face splattered in red. I had cornered the blond one. He was in a state, sweat stains under his armpits, moist face, trembling hands.

"Curse you, demons, devils, whatever the hell spawned you! I'm going to gut you like pigs. You will pay for what you did!" The man jabbed his dagger forward, aiming for my stomach. He missed, i was simply too fast; barefooted in grass that will absorb all the blood. And sprout new leaves, new flowers, new life. These men were just compost.

"Remember, Astarion, you once asked how strong a tiefling's thighs are ?" i asked looking at him with a menacing smile. "I'll answer you today."

I made a quick step towards the highwayman, he flung his dagger at me, i dodged and kicked him in the face. He gasped and staggered backwards. I took off running again, pounced off the worn stone wall and landed on the robber's shoulders; his head now squeezed between my thick thighs.

Astarion walked closer, visibly thrilled by what comes next.

"Are we getting a demonstration? I hope so, for science…of course." Astarion tapped the highwayman's nose.

The robber mumbled, "please…have mercy…pl…"

I tucked the middle part of my dress behind my back, so the spectacle would be unobscured. Then i began squeezing my thighs together. My muscles bulged and danced like the strings of a violin in the hands of a musical genius. The highwayman began choking and sputtering, snot dripping from his nose, skin turning a shade of bright red, eyes welling up with tears. I steadied my hands on his shoulders and looked Astarion in the eyes. They were half-lidded and intense, the man could not take his eyes off me. I smiled, ran my tongue over my upper lip, and pressed my thighs together at full force.

The highwayman's mouth gaped, scleras red, as his blue eyeballs popped out of his face and my legs met with an earthshattering crunch. It was an explosion of blood, crimson red shower all over my dress, white hair, decolletage, face. I ran my clawed hand across my brow, trying to wipe off all the blood and pieces of gore. The body underneath me had collapsed and i was sitting in a buddle of blood. My dress soaked and clinging to my body, highlighting my curves, my sharp edges…. and my pleased smile.

Astarion observed me with an expression that was hard to describe - proud, amazed, enticed, aroused even. His eyes caressed by body from top to toe, as if he caught a glimpse of some rare beast basking in the sun. Me, dressed in blood and gore. Engaging my thighs with such force did nothing to ease the aching desire between my legs. It only intensified my lust. I beckoned Astarion closer while invitingly spreading my glistening bloody legs.

He put his hands onto my thighs and stroked them gently.

"That was quite the display of power, my little dragon. I'll make sure to never underestimate your beautiful thighs ever again." His voice was heavy from desire.

Astarion brushed my inner thigh and pressed his face against my skin. I exhaled loudly. He proceeded to lick the blood from my leg, slowly, with enjoyment, moving up until he was in my crotch. I gazed down to the tongue marks left behind and caressed Astarion's soft hair.

"You're right, but these are at your service," i said unapologetically whilst spreading my legs wider.

"Oh, you're magnificent. And you shall serve…" He spoke alluringly whilst diving into my crotch and brushing his tongue against my throbbing folds.

I gasped and thrust my hips upwards, yearning for more. To be played with. To be teased. He fondled my inner thighs, made sure to keep me wide open. His tongue was hard at work, licking blood off my pussy, inspecting every crevice, and he was thorough. I supported myself with one arm and used the other to sink my claws into his shoulder. My ears caught a faint moan. It was pure bliss, his tongue running across the bud over and over, giving it an occasional tongue flick. I started rocking my hips, the building pleasure driving me insane. Suddenly, he paused to move to my inner thigh and gave it a sharp nibble. I growled out in a lust filled rage. My fangs exposed, eyes glowing in the darkness. He smiled, pleased with himself.

A sound carried over by the wind, reaching my ears. It was a faint whimper. I turned my head and remembered that i had left something behind. The last two highwaymen were still alive. One was crawling on his knees - trying to get up, but struggling to against the stone wall, both of his arms dangling limply. The other was dashing across a field. I cackled, there was something so grotesquely funny about that.

I brought my hands above my head and channeled the magic, calling to my blood. In the distance two poor souls burst into flames and screaming commenced. My insides tingled with lust, i felt like a god… and i shoved my lover's head back where it belonged. He didn't resist me, his tongue danced around my swollen bud. I rocked my hips, feeling the build up of an orgasm coming. Moving my hips faster and faster, gasping, growling like a beast in heat, as the distant screams were dying down. My cheeks flushed and i threw my head back, a husky scream of delight escaped my throat. It was powerful.

Astarion rose, grabbed me by the hair and kissed me ferociously. His face was smeared with blood, his clothes soaked in crimson and pieces of flesh. I kissed him like i was ready to eat his face off. I wanted more, he was my plaything too. All mine, and also aching.

I grabbed his shirt and tore it open, his chest gleaming in the darkness. I fought free of his kiss and lunged at his chest, nipping it in various places, running my tongue over his nipple. His breath quavered, quickened even, and he yanked my hair. I stared him down and ran my tongue over the edges of my teeth, checking their sharpness, it was a warning. I wanted to make him come.

He pulled me into another kiss, using my hair as leverage, and my hands were undoing his pants. As we kissed my hand dove into his pants, stroking him. His breath trembled against my lips, his hand reached into my dress, grasping my breast. I started stroking him slowly and sped up until i had coaxed a moan from his lips.

Then i shoved him onto his back, being quite vicious, if i'm honest, and took his member into my mouth. It was my plaything, nobody could deny me my favorite toy. I edged him, teased him with my hot draconian breath; and when he was ready to burst, i let him finish. After everything was over i crawled into his arms and he squeezed me tight. Two immortals, coated in red and lying amidst mangled bodies. The world was ours to take.

[animebw]

So I've been stewing a bit with the whole concept of "MCU Fatigue" after my disappointment with The Marvels, and I think I've come to a realization.

See, most people when they shit on the modern MCU act like they're been putting out tons of terrible stuff. But looking at their track record, that's not actually true. In fact, I'd argue that the majority of their Phase 4 and 5 output has still been above average. The only real misses I'd count are FATWS, Dr. Strange 2, The Marvels, and maybe What If if I was feeling particularly uncharitable (and I guess Secret Invasion, but the bad response kept me away from that one so I've never watched it myself). Other than that, Marvel's still putting out a lot of good stuff.

The problem is they're not putting out a lot of great stuff.

Like, we need to take a step back and realize just how fucking insane the MCU's track record used to be. They didn't just put out good movies on a regular basis that put every other franchise to shame, they regularly released some of the most iconic superhero blockbusters of all time. They cranked out all-time classics on such a consistent basis that at this point, at least half of the top 20 greatest superhero movies of all time list would be taken up by MCU projects, maybe more. That's how they built trust with the general audience; not just consistency, but the promise of greatness. People flocked to the MCU not just because there was a near guarantee of a well-made fun time at the cinema, but because that was a strong probability you were going to see something truly spectacular.

Seriously, just look at the studio's track record through Phase 2 and 3. Iron Man 3, Captain America 2 and 3, the first two Guardians movies, Thor Ragnorak, Black Panther, Infinity War and Endgame... you could argue that over half of their movie output from this period was unqualified home runs. And sure, maybe Thor 2 was a dud and Avengers 2 was disappointing, but it didn't matter because there was always the promise of another masterpiece waiting in the wings. People weathered the occasional misstep because they could trust the MCU to always find its way back to greatness.

But now consider: how many all-time bangers can you name from Phases 4 and 5?

Like, I can name a few. Wandavision, Black Panther 2, Guardians 3, Spider-Man 3, maybe Ms. Marvel if I pretend episode 5 doesn't exist (and I've heard Loki season 2 was also great, but that's another one I haven't seen yet). But the ratio of Big Deal Events to Just Another Marvel Thing has gotten much steeper. Between the movies and the Disney+ series, Marvel's cranking out more stuff than ever, but it hasn't been cranking out landmarks any faster than it used to. It's just shoving a lot more padding between the properties that really set the world on fire. And it's training the audience, unintentionally, to no longer associate the MCU with guaranteed smash successes every other weekend.

And I still like most of the MCU's current output! But I don't love it as much as some of its older stuff. Black Widow and Shang-Chi are good, but not quite great. Eternals I will defend to my dying breath, but it was destined for cult classic status. Love and Thunder I would argue is actually pretty fantastic, fuck you fight me, and Quantummania is fine, you guys, but I wouldn't die defending them the way I would, say, Iron Man 3. And as much as I enjoyed Hawkeye, Moon Knight and She-Hulk, you can only watch so much Pretty Good TV before it starts to feel like a chore.

This deluge of content hasn't resulted in tons of more Great Marvel Stuff. It's just resulted in tons of more Good, Okay, and Not That Great Actually Marvel Stuff. It's resulted in audiences feeling like you can't trust Marvel to regularly crank out classics that change the way you view superhero media. And it turns out, it gets a lot harder to justify spending so much time on such an overstuffed time-sink of a franchise when it can't guarantee you a steady stream of masterpieces on a regular basis.

Especially with so much more of it coming out now in such a painfully short timespan. Even in Marvel's busiest years, they used to max out at three movies per year and a couple spinoffs like the Netflix shows that you didn't need to watch to feel up to date. You went out to the movies a couple times a year and were basically guaranteed a good movie every time, and that was it. Now, though, with the Disney+ content, it feels like a constant battle to not fall behind, to keep up with tons of stuff you're just kind of enjoying to justify getting to the increasingly few nuggets of true gold. This stuff would need a track record just as good as the Phase 2/3 days to justify sitting through so much of it, and it just... doesn't. And the second you drop off from exhaustion, it's already roaring ahead and leaving you with too much to ever reasonably catch up on if you're not prepared for a couple days of heavy bingeing.

The shared universe model is fucking hard. Every studio's failed attempt to copy Marvel's playbook is a testament to that. The fact it even maintained its cultural domination as long as it did is nothing short of a miracle. Because it turns out, even being consistently good isn't enough to maintain the level of trust and engagement necessary for such a long haul. You need to be consistently excellent. You need audiences to come away from every other event singing your praises as the new gold standard of blockbuster cinema. And the second you can't maintain that standard anymore, all that goodwill slowly bleeds out as more and more people decide that the effort it takes to keep up with everything is no longer worth the reward.

Does the MCU recover from this? I don't know. At this point, what it needs to do more than anything is slow the fuck down instead of overloading audiences with too many shows and movies to keep up with. Maybe it's not the dominant cultural force anymore, but with a little patience and willingness to sacrifice quantity for quality, it can at least re-establish itself as a franchise worth sticking around for. Marvel used to be special; with a little luck, maybe it can be again.

[denimbex1986]

'Christopher Nolan's Oppenheimer left out a significant historical detail of the real-life Manhattan Project and the creation of the atomic bomb. The real-life account of J. Robert Oppenheimer's (Cillian Murphy) impact on World War II and the field of theoretical physics is depicted with intense focus in Nolan's film, making it one of the most compelling and successful movies of 2023. In what is already considered one of Nolan's greatest works, Oppenheimer acts as both a marvel of modern cinema and an educational record of the fairly accurate rise and fall of the Father of the Atomic Bomb.

Oppenheimer's cast features exceptional performances that portray many of the real-life historical figures who were involved in the Manhattan Project at one of its primary locations, Los Alamos, Texas. Based on the Pulitzer Prize-winning biography "American Prometheus", Nolan's Oppenheimer is considered a very accurate assessment of the true events pertaining to the life of J. Robert Oppenheimer leading up to the creation of the atom bomb. With this in mind, it's curious that there is one major omission in Nolan's film that leaves out an intriguing yet controversial detail about the earliest stages of the Manhattan Project.

Oppenheimer Left Out The Bohemian Grove Detail With The Manhattan Project

J. Robert Oppenheimer, whose celebrated life and mind are chronicled thoroughly in the 2023 blockbuster, is said to have attended a private event at the mysterious Bohemian Grove club in 1942 where he first discussed the Manhattan Project. Considering that Oppenheimer is often praised for its accurate depiction of historical events, Nolan's choice to leave this detail out is curious and possibly intentional. While some directors and screenwriters might have found it too intriguing to leave out of a comprehensive 3-hour film about Oppenheimer, Nolan evidently found no use of the detail for his cinematic vision.

Bohemian Grove is a topic that's often shrouded in misinformation and conspiracy theories, meaning that Nolan would have had to make several definitive choices about the look, tone, and events that took place at the supposed secret club. The infamous meeting is rumored to be an all-male gathering where apparently the most powerful leaders in the world rub shoulders, drink expensive alcohol, and perform ritualistic ceremonies dressed in strange, potentially occult-inspired costumes. A Bohemian Grove scene in Oppenheimer would have piqued many viewers' interest but would likely have made Nolan's epic film completely different.

How A Bohemian Grove Scene Would Have Changed Nolan's Oppenheimer

A Bohemian Grove scene in Oppenheimer would have alluded to the conspiratorial context surrounding the location and presumed elitist meetings, which Nolan might have wanted to avoid as it could have ultimately distracted from the overall messages of the film. A Bohemian Grove scene would have also changed the intense perception of J. Robert Oppenheimer as a suspected Communist in Nolan's film, which would have undermined one of its largest narrative themes. Nolan likely opted out of including the Bohemian Grove detail in his Oppenheimer as it would have opened up a can of worms, and potentially a few rabbit holes, that would have steered the plot in an unnecessary direction.'

[daydreamerwonderkid]

What fandoms you currently hyperfixated on?

Your oldest fandom?

Your favorite animes?

Favorite games?

How long you've been drawing?

Your favorite character from any franchise you can think of rn?

Sorry for the introgation LMAO, i just want to know more 👀

Lol you're all good, I don't mind asks like this :3

What fandoms you're currently hyperfixated on?

-Currently I'm pretty stuck on Batman/DC (can you tell?), but I'm also really into Dungeon Meshi and Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint. My sister recently introduced me to The Greatest Real Estate Developer and we've both been having an absolute blast with it. Idk if it has that big of a fandom, but it definitely should pffftt

Your oldest fandom?

-I wanna say Marvel and Star Wars since the first movie I ever saw was A New Hope and my first comic books were Spider-man and X-men comics. I was really hardcore into the MCU at its height and I'm a diehard fan of the Clone Wars series.

-Funnily enough, I was getting a bit burnt out by both the Marvel and SW fandoms a while back and that's actually why I got back into Batman and DC XD

Your favorite animes?

-My #1 favorite anime/manga/story of all time has got to be Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood. I don't know what to say about it that hasn't already been said, but it really is that fucking good and Hiromu Arakawa is definitely a huge inspiration to me.

-Other than that, I gotta say Paranoia Agent, Mob Psycho 100, Love is War, Spy x Family, Trigun (haven't seen Stampede yet), Mononoke, Castlevania, and Mushishi. I'm sure there's more, but those were the ones I could think of off the top of my head.

Favorite games?

-There's so many games I play, so I'll try to narrow it down a bit. Tbh my longest favorite running series/franchise has got to be Legend of Zelda. The only game from the series I didn't enjoy was Spirit Tracks, but otherwise I've pretty much enjoyed every single entry.

-I also love the Ace Attorney series, Stardew Valley, Jedi: Fallen Order (I have Survivor, but haven't played it yet), Disco Elysium, the Yakuza series, Ib, etc.

How long you've been drawing?

-Genuinely don't remember when I started. I think I've always been drawing. Of course, I was taught traditional art mediums first. I did a lot of oil painting, watercolor and charcoal drawing. It wasn't until, I wanna say, my third year of college that I started learning about digital art. It's not a medium I'm a 100% comfortable with and I've only recently started feeling more confident with it when I realized I could download brushes that were similar to pencils/ink/charcoal/watercolor/copic markers/etc.

Your favorite character from any franchise you can think of rn?

-That's a little difficult since I have so fucking many XD

-Atm, I can say my brain has been super fixated on Marcille Donato (Dungeon Meshi) and Dick Grayson (Nightwing/Batman). Tbh my brain is constantly rotating my favorites, so it really depends on the day or the week who my new top blorbo(s) is gonna be

[deadpool1763492]

Happy 20th birthday to Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2003!

I remember around 15 years ago, when I was at the ripe age of 5-6 years old, someone gave me a TMNT DVD for my birthday. I wasn't exactly into action shows like that at the time and pretty much hated it, but my mom told me to give it a chance and put it on for my anyway. It was this show that made me realize just how much I love superheroes.

TMNT 2003 is something special. It's the most loyal show to the original Mirage comics, for one, with literal episodes taken directly from the pages themselves. Even the first lines of the show are from the first issue! Who can ever forget Leonardo's iconic line: "He's wrong. We're not wearing costumes." I still get shivers hearing the delivery of those sentences to this day.

And let's not forget that it was this iteration that basically confirmed the TMNT multiverse in dare I say the greatest turtle movie ever released yet: Turtles Forever. Because of that movie, we know that every past iteration and future iteration is connected to one another, and, whenever one version of the story ends, we have the hope in our hearts that it might not actually be the last we'll see of those specific turtles, whether it be in future references, actual crossovers, or something else entirely.

And, of course, we can't forget that this was the first cartoon version of the turtles that apparently swore, albeit it only in some of the few comic issues of the show ever released.

Who doesn't love that? If you're a fan of 2003, by the way, you should definitely check out the comics they released of it. If not all of them, just check out issue #5. It's become one of my favorite comic books ever (of all time) just because of how absolutely raw it is. The comics really did not hold back at all.

Which, by the way, is true for the show, too! Who could ever forget iconic episodes like Same As It Never Was, which ended up literally scarring us as kids by showing a fascist, apocalyptic future that was supposedly indirectly Donatello's doing, where we had to watch three of our turtle boys literally die? I can never forget, at least. That episode gave me nightmares for a bit when I was a kid. Did I still end up watching it? Of course! I needed to see how the Shredder ended up getting defeated!

I could go on and on about this series (and I have, if you're someone I know in real life and are a victim of my ramblings of it), but I'll cut this short here for all of your sakes. I'll just end it with this: thank you, Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird— and 4Kids Entertainment—for giving us a show that would stick with me for so long. I don't know where I'd be without the teenage mutant ninja turtles. It's literally the show that became my gateway to Marvel! So, instead of arguing about which version is better than which, let's take today to celebrate these idiot turtle boys for what they are: an amazing, creative story that brings us all together with one universal truth: Things Change, but that may not always be a bad thing.

Thank you for reading, and have a wonderful day!

[yzeltia]

Year of the Drake: Breakfast at Tataru's

July: Coffee Shop AU Characters: U'rahn Nuhn, @driftward 's Nyx Blackmoon, and face claims by U'khuba Tia, @erickgage 's Erick Gage, and @saesama 's Kylnt Blackmoon Rating: T for NUHN Notes: CW Fade to Black Sex, Storytale based on the movie based on the book "Breakfast at Tiffany's" by Truman Capote Special Thanks: To @driftward for indulging U'rahn's love for Nyx and the wonderful additions at the climax of the story through to the ending. Thank you thank you thank you.

U'rahn sighed as he gazed up into the vast cloudless starlit sky of the Sagoli, relaxing the best he could in the springs. Coming home had seldom been for pleasure anymore. Everyone wanted to get down to business, or at least for him to. Yet it hadn't come to be yet, and the poor Nuhn did not have the courage to ask, and assumed it would happen all on its own. A Perfect moment just for them.

Ears folding, he dipped into the springs, just about to his nose so that he could breathe while he sulked until his cones flitted back up at the sound of water sloshing very delicately toward him. A familiar pair of mismatched eyes gazed down at him, studying as always.

"The huntresses requested that I come join you."

U'rahn shifted to sit cross legged in the shallow pool, "Yeah? Guess they finally got tired of gossiping about me then?"

"They were offering unsolicited instructions on how to win your affection. I told them that it was improbable that I had not already succeeded in that endeavor; however, they persisted to advise me otherwise."

"Sorry about them…they're…kind of a lot lately. Though that's my fault. I'm not doing my duty by them and they're getting understandably impatient. I made a deal with them, and I guess it's not happening at the speed they think it should. I guess, under all my bravado and herrro talk there are still some things that are hard to do."

"The huntresses of the Drake are wise enough to know what you are and are not capable of. They would not make a request that you would fail at."

U'rahn flushed and looked back up at the stars. "Yeah…maybe…But sometimes I dunno. I think I can hype myself to others when maybe I'm not the greatest but just kind of okay…"

The Nuhn felt Nyx's eyes on him, inspecting him as he'd grown accustomed to. He tried to relax a little more, letting his tail lax enough to float up to the water's surface.

"Rahn. Tell me a storytale."

"Huh?"

"Your emotional state improves when you are telling stories."

"Oh. I guess I do feel a little better when I do. Let me think…I suppose there's…."

"All of Ul'dah was still. Shopkeepers for the Ruby Road Exchange hadn't yet rose to set up their dappled stalls nor change over the displays in their windows for those fortunate to have real estate. None of this mattered to H'ollie Nuhn. He was content to lazily drift along the front of Tataru & Co.'s elaborate display, breakfast in hand and wearing last night clothes, marveling at the wide selection of jewels. 

He gave the tip of his ears little rub as he fancied himself in one of the diamond studs, letting his watch slide down a bit. Noting the time, he hurried away back toward his apartment. Having forgotten his key, he buzzed the landlord.

"Ollie! There you are! You ran off without a word!"

H'ollie jumped a bit as he turned, finding a well dressed Miqo'te woman at the end of his stoop. She brushed her braids from her face before following up the stoop. His button pressing became frantic.

"Ah. I'm sorry Miss A'mhitra. It was just getting late y'know. Early dragoon gets the wyrm and all that!"

"I just assumed I'd be getting more of your company tonight. I did spend and awful lot of money on you this evening didn't I."

"Most appreciated for sure! But the night has come and gone," buzzing the doorbell faster, yelping as the door gave out. He hurried up the stairs, followed by the other Miqo'te.

"I gave you 50 Gil for the arcade and you were just gone!"

"OI! OLLIE," boomed a voice from above.

"Really Miss A'mhitra, I must say good night!"

"H'OLLIE NUHN!"

"Ah. Hey hey Lady Gothyawn! I lost my key! Thanks for buzzing me in," the Miqo'te called up, looking toward the top of the stairs to find a cross looking Roegadyn woman staring at him.

"That was two swiven' weeks ago! Thal's Balls! Find your key or have another made," she yelled.

"Yes ma'am! I will try. I'll just end up losing it though" he let out with a gulp before moving to try and push into his apartment.

"Oh Ollie. You know I fancy you," A'mhitra continued following him.

"And I fancy you too, but I really need to sleep," he let out before closing the door  on her so that he could go sink into bed.

The morning hours came and went, the apartment quiet save for those coming and going for work. The sun high, a buzz sounded out, breaking up the stillness that had come with H'ollie's prompt slumber. The rancor made him stir then fumble toward his call box.

"...Hullo…," he yawned.

"Hello. I am a new resident," a monotone, but charming voice called through.

"Kay."

Without hesitation, H'ollie buzzed the stranger into the building, peeping out as the figure headed upstairs toward his apartment. A dashing miqo’te-looking person arrived at his door, staring pointedly at him as he leaned in the doorway in just boxers, t-shirt, and eye-mask set up upon his head. 

“I would like to borrow your tomestone,” the figure stranger requested.

“...o’kay,” H’ollie yawned, sidestepping to let the other in to his mess of an apartment.

The stranger looked around for a moment, “This is a small, yet, stimulating dwelling. Did you just move in yourself?”

“Mmm? No…about a year,” the Seeker responded, shuffling around to get into his fridge for a bottle of milk.

The stranger looked around for a moment then found the Nuhn’s tomestone sitting on top of his gym bag. As they reached, a small coeurl jumped down from a shelf onto their shoulder. Carefully, they moved the creature onto the floor.

“Apologies. I did not mean to disturb your pet.”

“He’ll be okay. Right Coeurl? Poor slob without a proper name. It wouldn’t be right for me to give him one, y;know. He’ll just have to wait until he belongs to somebody. He kinda just walked up to me one day when I was fishin’ in the creek after one of my salmon. He’s independent and so am I. I don’t want to own anything until I’m somewhere I feel I belong…Not sure where that is, but I know what it’d be like. It’s like..uh…Tataru’s.”

“Tataru’s? Tataru Taru’s Boutique?”

“Yeah yeah! I love that place. I go there when I’m kinda feeling out of sorts. Like when I feel somethin’ bad' is gonna happen but you don’t know what so you’re kinda afraid?”

“I am unsure of the feeling you are describing.”

“Huh…Well, when I do feel like that the only thing that does me any good is take a walk down to Tataru’s. I feel better right away. The splendour of it all. Nothin’ bad could happen to you there. Not with attendants in their nice clothes, the smell of silver, and those eft wallets…Oh hey hey. You wanted to use my tomestone didn’t you?”

“Correct. I was supposed to meet someone at ten bells. It is ten o’clock Thursday morning, is it not? I just arrived on a caravan traveling from Ala Mhigo,” they answered, starting to dial.

“Thursday! Oh heck,” the Nuhn yelped, rushing around suddenly to find his pants, “I’m terribly late. I hate Thursdays!”

The stranger let him rummage about while waiting for the line to be picked up, “Good Morning. Is I-Khuba there? He has? Understood. No message is required.”

Hanging up the tomestone, they looked up to find H’ollie spraying himself with cologne.

“Might I inquire as to why you hate Thursdays?”

“Well, nothin’ really. I just always forget what day it is when it rolls around. Usually I power through Wednesday cause when mornin’ rolls around I gotta be there during visitors’ hours.”

“Are you visiting someone in the hospital?”

“No no. The cellars.”

“The cellars?”

“Yeah. And I gotta look my best cause it’s the special kind of prisoners. For soft crimes, y’know. Money ones.”

“May I inquire who you might be visiting?”

H’ollie started to fuss with his hair in a mirror as his tail flipped about, “Well, I dunno if I should say, but they never told me it was a secret so if you can cross your heart and kiss your tail.”

The stranger stared at the Nuhn who simply looked back with a shrug, “Have you heard of Erick Popoto?”

“The gangster.”

“Not proven. Sure he messed up his income taxes a little, but those papers are really hard to figure out. He’s actually a really cool guy. I wouldn’t say he’s a friend though beforehand. I only met him when he got to prison, but he’s the coolest and I look up to him now. I’d probably go see him even if I didn’t get paid to.”

The stranger stiffened a bit, watching H’ollie struggle to tug his slacks up over his thighs, “He pays you?”

“Ah, well maybe not him. His lawyer, or researcher. I dunno, she’s smart and wears glasses. A few months ago she sent me a bird asking me to meet her for lunch and asked if I’d like to cheer up a lonely guy for a hundred gil a week. I told her she was mistaken and must have got the wrong Nuhn and the pay wasn’t much. I can get chocobo fair and 50 gil for the arcade from a nice girl that wants to hang on my arm for the evenin’.”

I guess he saw me at the Quicksand once though and I made an impression with my charm or standing up to some Flames. Said he saw a down right herrro in me and wanted to hear my tale.”

“I do not believe just anyone can visit the prison…”

“Nope. But I’m supposed to be a long lost nephew though. I’m a good half foot taller than most Seekers so they don’t question it too much. How do I look,” the Nuhn asked, giving a little pose.

“Adequate.”

“Thanks,” H’ollie answered, wandering toward his door to leave, his new friend in tow.

“You have provided me with enrichment during my wait. Should you need assistance in the future I shall be located upstairs.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Your transaction with Erick Popoto sounds unlawful. You should reevaluate before it causes you trouble.”

“Trouble? I only go to give him the weather,” H’ollie assured the stranger, stopping at his mailbox to spray himself down with more cologne.

“There are sufficient resources in the prisons for him to retrieve that information without a visitor. What manner of weather does this man wish to be informed about?”

“Well, strange ones to be sure. Snow in the Sagoli, drought in Limsa. Things like that. Don’t worry though, I can watch out for myself. I always have! Hey Hey! Chocobo here,” the Nuhn explained before calling out for a taxiing bird.

“Understood.”

As a carriage pulled up, a Miqo’te stepped out, carrying a lamp and wallpaper rolls under his arms.

“Nyaul. Apologies for my tardiness. Were you locked out? I meant to send a bird with a key,” the dark-haired Miqo’te asked, pushing up his glasses.

“Greeting I-Khuba. I got in by buzzing my new neighbor-”

“H’ollie “Golightly” Nuhn,” the other Seeker introduced, holding his hand out to the newcomer despite the occupied hands, “How do you do?”

“How do you do,” I’khuba answered, attention immediately flicking back to Nyaul, “You look well. I hope the trip was not too much for you.”

“It was adequate.”

“Were you able to get into the apartment?”

“No.”

“I see. I took the liberty of having the finest decorator in Eorzea come in and fix it up for you. I think you’ll find it to your liking. If not, I’ll call the Au Ra back and have him tear it all out and start over,” I’khuba continued, starting up the steps of the building.

“Ah, well. See you around,” H’ollie called out before taking over the carriage for himself.”

I’khuba let himself in then led Nyual upstairs to tier apartment, fully decorated in late allagan decor to suit the tastes of its occupant. Immediately he sat down the paper and lamp before looking back as his companion brought in their luggage.

“I’ll help,” the man said, going to retrieve a bag, struggling with it far more than Nyaul had done.

Once on the bed, I’khuba busied himself unpacking the other, moving back and forth into the closet while Nyaul got themselves comfortable.

“You do not need to redistribute my belongings.”

“I enjoy taking care of you. I’ve already hung some dresses delivered for you. Did you see your desk?”

Nyaul turned then found an ornate quill sticking out of a well and parchment sitting in a Hingashi-patterned box. I’khuba moved to it, tracing his fingers over a page, “Fresh linen paper and the finest bamboo box from across the sea. They say B’asho Nuhn used the same box to pen his haiku.”

“This excessive opulence will be adequate to continue my writing.”

“Have I displeased you? Is this too much?”

“You have not.”

“Good. I’ll expect your manuscript soon then. I’ve invested a lot in your talents, and I believe you can bring in a large return rather than having you scrape by elsewhere unable to pursue your passions. I shall keep you enriched.”

Nyaul studied the man as he looked out the window, “What will be your return?”

“Satisfaction. Pride.”

“Is that all?”

“Perrrhaps not,” he answered, moving into steal a kiss.

“Rahn, your tail,” Nyx interrupted.

U’rahn blinked then looked back, finding himself angrily thrashing his tail about in the springs. “Ah, sorry. Just don’t like the idea of…Well, er…Nevermind. He’s just not my favorite character. Anyroad…”

Music blared from H’ollie’s room as his landlord screamed obscenities from above between the crashing of his things. From his bathroom, he locked the door then quickly scrambled through a window just in a pair of slacks while a huntress mewled at him from beyond the door. Looking upward, he scaled the fire escape, finding himself watching as I’khuba retired his tie then made his exit from Nyaul’s bedroom. Swallowing, he waited a moment then gave a little rap on the window seal before flopping into the floor.

“Intruder,” Nyaul said, sitting upright in their bed and fixing their eyes on H’ollie as they bunched up their sheets against their chest. 

“Ah! It’s me! H’ollie! We met this morning. If you’re worried about your friend, he just left. I wouldn’t normally just come in like this, but I did knock and I’ve got this huntress downstairs that’s being pretty insistent we…y’know…But I’m not really ready for that sort of thing. I’m sure she’ll give up though in a minute and I can head back down.”

“It is customary to get to know one’s neighbours and you are distressed. You may remain. How was your visit to the prison?”

“Went off without a hitch,” H’ollie sang, ears fluttering.

“What was the weather?”

“Gales over The Black Shroud or somethin,” he yawned, moving to sit on the edge of his host’s bed, “You’re really sweet and all. You remind me of someone from my tribe, Nangho. May I call you Nangho?”

“Sure.”

“When we were young and the weather turned, the huntresses would round us all up and have us camp out together on the floor of the sturdiest house. Nangho would be the only one who’d cuddle up with me. I was always kinda tall so I used a lot of blanket. She didn’t mind though,” he continued, tilting his head at a pouch of gil on the bedside table.

“That’s a big pouch. Your friend is really generous.”

“Please remove yourself from my bed,” Nyaul warned.

“Hey hey! I didn’t mean to offend,” he started before taking note of the other huddled in just their blankets, “Oh-oh! I-I didn’t realize. I-I’m sorry.”

He swallowed then went to move, only to have his tail seized by Nyaul.

“You may stay. Your words did not imply what I thought. Would you care for a drink,” they asked, moving to get up.

“I-I can get it. You stay” H’ollie offered,  bright red and standing to move over to the drink cart to pour them two glasses of a sweet smelling amaretto before returning.

“I guess I seem pretty brazen. I don’t mean to be. It’s the Nuhn in me.”

“You are indeed brazen.”

“Well, everyone says so too. I don’t mind it too much though. It’s kinda useful sometimes. Say, what do you do?”

“I write.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“Huh. I kinda pictured a writer as someone much older. Grey hair and all that. Have you been published?”

Nyaul motioned toward the desk. H’ollie reached out to grab the book then flipped it about in his hand. “ ‘Nine Poems’ by Nyaul Whitesun. Poems?”

“Nine of them,”

“Tell me one.”

“They’re not the kind of poems to tell.”

“Oh. Are they those dirty ones?”

“No. Angry. Sensitive. Intense. Promising.”

“Promising?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll have to try and read it then.”

Silence crept up between them as H’ollie laid back next to Nyaul, arms going behind his head as he cracked the book and squinted at the poems inside.

“I have an inquiry as well. You said before your huntresses give you 50 gil for the arcade?”

“Yeah!”

“You must be well off.”

“Nah. I’m terrible at saving…Gosh, you remind me so much of Nangho,” he started, looking to the other.

“I haven’t seen her for a long time. She went off to fight in the resistance as a mercenary when she came to the age of majority. She was a great hunter. I’m gonna make a lot of money though so she can come back home and not have to be in the war. Gosh…is that the time?”

H’ollie yawned then stretched his arms, settling down in the bed, Nyaul slipping against his chest from the gravity of it all.

“Is it okay if I rest my eyes for a minute,” he asked, “We’re friends now after all. Just good friends. You should just go ahead and call me Ollie.”

“Acknowledged.”

He dozed for a moment, but H’ollie was quick to start stirring, muttering Nangho’s name in his sleep. A tear escaped the corner of his eye, catching Nyaul’s attention. Reaching up, they brushed it from his cheek.

“Why are you crying?”

H’ollie jerked up as he was touched, ears folded back. He broke from the other, moving toward the window, shaking and looking cross. “I-If we’re gonna be pals, you shouldn’t snoop!”

With that, he let himself out onto the firescape, then hurried down to his apartment below, leaving Nyaul to finally rest in peace. 

A few days passed as Nyaul settled in. H'ollie had made himself scarce. Just as they started to think the Nuhn was finished with them, a letter came: an invitation for drinks and an apology for running off so abruptly the other morning. Drinks though, seemed to entail half of Ul'dah sandwiched into the tiny messy apartment.

The party raged, and Nyaul kept to the wall, enriched by the wild drunken menagerie of everyone from members of the sultanate to seedy peddlers that they'd seen making deals in the alleyways of the Ruby Road. And then there was H'ollie. Handsome and charming whose words people hung on despite not really saying much of anything at all. For Nyaul, it was his constant change in expression that kept their focus. He was more emotive than most. Nyaul liked that. 

H’ollie eventually spotting Nyaul made himself available to them, cuddling up close as people danced wildly, “Nangho! Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am being enriched; however, I am uncertain as to why so many people are here.”

“I dunno. I kinda sent out invitations everywhere on a whim! How else would a Nuhn meet a bunch of new people?”

“Understood.”

“Yeah. Don’t leave though. I’d love to talk more. And- Ah! Thyka! Is that you!? Get over here you scamp!”

H’ollie moved from Nyaul, heading toward another Seeker as he entered, putting the other under his arm to ruffle his hair.

Nyaul resumed sticking to the wall, occasionally picking up a passing drink to sample while watching H’ollie wander about. Soon, a man approached them, golden hair and sunglasses. 

“So you’re the writer, eh Nangho?”

“Apparently.”

H’ollie passing smiled then wrapped an arm around Nangho’s waist, “Apparently? They’ve written nine of the most marvelous haiku. They’re published and everything!”

“Thank you, Ollie,” Nyaul said, scruffing Coeurl and putting him on the bookshelf before he could be stepped on. “Right then, so you are a writer. I must check out your book sometime. Who does your books?”

“This is Ricky Popoto. The guy I told you about,” H’ollie whispered before perking up, “He takes care of all my finances. I’m just no good with saving like I told you.”

“I can keep my own ledgers. Thank you,” Nyaul declined.

“Yeah Yeah. They’ve got a fancy writing desk upstairs and everything. Writing, Math. Nangho can do it all,” H’ollie boosted proudly.

“Ah. Well, a shame. If you ever want to make some investments though, I’ve got the eye for it. And have someone send me your book. Maybe some literature will awaken something in me,” he chuckled before being pulled away.

“Ah! Mr. Popoto! What’s the weather!?”

“Snow flurries in the Sagoli kid!”

“Right. How strange though. I bet there’s not been snow down there since the last calamity. Still, all that swagger. Don’t you think he’s cool?”

“He is a mobster. Some people would define that as being cool.”

“Yeah. If you and I ever get married, promise me you’ll let him give the groom away. Oh, ah, here! I got you this enchanted ink, for your writing,” he started, fishing out the vial from his pocket and handing it to the writer. 

Nyaul ignored the statement but gratefully accepted the gift before watching the blond man take his leave, “Ricky Popoto was sentenced to twenty-years to life.”

“Yeah, well. I don’t imagine we’ll be getting married before then, do you?”

“No. Our net worth would not be conducive to a union.”

H’ollie sighed. “That’s right. We’re both kinda reaching for the sky. I guess, it’s nice we can go a bit of the way together though, right,” he asked, cheeks a little red as he swayed his tail close to theirs without quite touching

“Two parallel lines that never meet.”

‘Yeah,” H’ollie agreed, “That’s exactly what we are.”

Nyaul looked to the Nuhn then quietly tangled their tail with his as he continued, “I’ve never been a parallel line before…except maybe with Nangho.”

H’ollie offered a smile then jumped as his door slammed open, Lady Gothyawn entering with a spear. “ENOUGH WITH THE NOISE. EVERYONE OUT OR YOU’LL BE SKEWERED AND TOSSED SO DEEP IN THE SWIVEN’ DUNGEONS ARCHAEOLOGISTS WON’T FIND YOUR SWIVEN’ BONES ‘TIL THE NEXT CALAMITY!”

Everyone panicked and then fled the apartment building, leaving H’ollie to get scolded by the landlady and Nyaul to return to their apartment upstairs. A few more days passed. Nyaul had engrossed themselves in their writing, churning out pages of haiku, some making it into their draft box, others into the bin beside them. As they finished their final poem, a voice wafted in through the window. 

Following, Nyaul looked out, smiling with their eyes as they looked down to spot H’ollie resting against his window ledge in just his boxershorts, towel around his neck and guitar in his arms. 

“That was pleasing,” Nyaul called out.

“Thank you,” H’ollie called out.

Nyaul went to say more, interrupted  as a knock sounded at their door. Shutting their window, they went to the door then found I’khuba looking rather cross. He stormed in, going to the window then looking out through the blinds.

“Are you well,” he asked.

“Yes. There is something troubling you.”

“It might be nothing. I just want to see if he’s still there.”

“Who?”

“A man. An older Seeker.  I saw him on the street yesterday afternoon but didn’t think too much of it; however, he was out there again watching up here.”

“Are they pursuing you?”

“I’m unsure. I don’t think my huntresses have found out about you.”

“I will eliminate the target.”

“Nyaul, you don’t have to-,” I’khuba started, but the writer was gone. 

Out on the street, Nyaul saw the older Miqo’te in question then began to pursue him, winding around the streets. The watcher seemed to stay in mostly populated areas, eventually stopping at the Quicksand, grabbing himself a drink. Eyes narrowed, Nyaul decided to be diplomatic and sit with him.

“What are your intentions with I-Khuba?”

“Parrrdon miss?”

“You have been following my benefactor. Cease or you will be stopped by force.”

“I don’t know an I’khuba. I’m just lookin’ for a frrriend.”

The man reached into his pocket then laid out an old piece of parchment, pointing to a sketch of himself, H’ollie, and an older female Seeker.

“That’s me. That’s him. And that’s his first betrothed, L’nangho.”

Nyaul picked up the picture, studying it for a moment before setting it back down.

“You’re…Ollie’s father?”

“Ollie? Is that what he’s callin’ himself? His name is L’rahn Tia, supposed to be Nuhn. He needs to be back home. His gal L’nangho will be returnin’ and then it’ll be time for him to start makin’ more children for the trrribe and take care of the ones that he’s already supposed to be watchin’ over.”

Nyaul sat silently, studying the man for a long time.

“I mean to say that I’m gettin’ on in yearrrs. He’s not had his first sirin’ yet. Waiting for that someone special or whatever he’s got in his head. He’s an exceptional herrro you see. Knew his own mind and went off to make a name for himself so that way he could fall in love and go at it the proper way. Brrroke our hearts when he left us.”

“What about L-nangho?”

“Got taken up with some mercs to help the resistance in Ala Mhigo. Contract will be done in a couple of months and then she’ll be on her way back home. They need to get together and do what needs to be done for the tribe. I figured you could take me to see him being neighbors and all. I’ve seen him talkin’ to you on the street and all.”

“Understood.”

Getting up, Nyaul escorted the man back to the apartments then upstairs, giving H’ollie’s door a small knock only to have the door open instantly, the Nuhn dressed in his finest.

“Hey hey! I was just on my way out. I should have been in the town by now. We can have drinks tomorrow night, okay?”

“Understood, L’rhan.”

H’ollie stumbled back then clutched his arm. “Did…Did she tell you that? Nangho!? Nangho,” he called out, looking out excitedly only to freeze as he saw his father.

“Oh. L’odh,” he started before giving his dad a hug.

“C’mon son. We need to talk.”

Nyaul watched a moment before the two went into the apartment before wandering back upstairs where I’khuba waited, swirling a glass of whiskey.

“Did you take care of him?”

“No. He was not a target. The father of my neighbor.”

“That took you an hour?”

“Yes.”

“Right then,” I’khuba sighed before setting his drink down to stand and embrace the writer.

The night passed. I’khuba left them as usual, returning to read through their drafts to make sure the diction was just right. By morning, a rainstorm had started to wash through, pelting their window rhythmically, so much so they almost missed the knocking at their door.

Answering, they found H’ollie standing in their raincoat, hair matted  around his face.

“Hey…hey,” he started, cheerfulness gone from his voice, “Good, I thought you might have gone out.”

“What is your inquiry? Are you unwell?”

“No no. I’m not. Just, Nangho, will you help me?”

“If I am able.”

“Good. I want you to follow me to the stables…to see off my pops.”

“Understood,” the writer answered, putting on a raincoat and following the other out the door.

As they exited, H’ollie opened his umbrella and sighed, “I know it’s early, but he thinks I’m going back with him. I need support. I don’t think I can say no by myself.”

“This is none of my business,” Nyaul answerd, though they continued to follow.

“You don’t need to say anything. I just…want you there.”

“Understood.”

The two soon arrived at the stables, L’odh saddling up two ‘bos for their departure.

“Ah. Your frrriend is seein’ you off. That’s nice.”

“Please, pops. I’m not goin’ with you.”

“Now Rahn.”

“Please understand. I know you love me and want me to do what you want. But I’m just kind of a wild thing right now. I gotta make sure whoever is my first sire is the one I want to be with forever. You had that with mom. I want that too. I gotta become a herrro and find the one right for me.”

“Now son, yourrr place is with us!”

“I can’t come back.”

L’odh watched the other for a time then sighed and shook his head, looking to Nyaul

“You keep an eye on him. I’ll..I’ll write to L’nangho and tell her how you’re fairrrin’ and where to find you.”

With that, the Nuhn hopped up on chocobo then started to trot off, looking back only once before setting off full speed.

“Y’know Nangho…the terrible thing. I am still L’Rahn…deep down. Just his boy saying he’s gonna be a herrro and marry a princess.”

With that they made their way back to their apartment and parted. Their visits became more frequent, H’ollie popping up now and then with some spirits on their fire escape to give Nyaul a break from writing now and then. Months went by, their friendship grew, and the writer managed to get their manuscript out until receiving notice their work had been properly published. 

With the news, Nyaul took the ornate box of poetry down to H’ollie’s apartment, letting themselves in and finding him on the ground doing push ups. Carefully, they set the box aside then pushed the letter under his nose.

“Wow Wow! You did it Nangho,” he panted, rolling over onto his back with a loud plop, “Congrats!”

“Yes. I thought I should bring you the manuscript. You served as inspiration.”

“Me? Wow. I’m uh, honored. Though, what does your decorator friend think about that?”

“I have not mentioned the subject matter to him.”

“Huh. Well. I think I’ve got a bottle of champagne in the ice box.”

“I’ve not had champagne for breakfast before.”

“Really? Never? Well! It’ll be a first,” he started before lighting up, ears perking, “I have an idea! To celebrate your publication, we’ll spend the whole day doing things we’ve never done before! I mean, I can’t really think of anything I’ve never done but I’m sure we can find something!”

After sharing a glass of champagne, the two set off into the morning, stopping by a coffee stall for a proper breakfast to carry along with them. Together, they found themselves in front of Tataru’s, H’ollie’s eyes wide upon the brass door.

“Don’t you love it,” H’ollie asked, tail flipping about.

“Love what?”

“Tataru’s. I do. And not just the neat jewellery,” he said, “though the silver necklaces are cool.”

Nyaul nodded then moved H’ollie so he stood before a window, making his reflection look like he had one of the display pieces on, “What do you think?”

“Hmm, a bit too tacky this one. Maybe something less…throat covery?”

“I have never been inside,” Nyaul commented, “Why don’t we go inside? I will buy you something.”

H’ollie lit up, entering behind the other into the ornate halls of the textile giant’s store. “A present? Really?”

“Yes. You bought me that enchanted ink some time ago. I used it to pen my drafts.”

“Well, alright. It’s pretty expensive though.”

“I’ve got my commission check and…10 gil.”

“No no! You can’t cash your check.”

“Understood.”

“Still, I dunno what we’ll find here for 10 gil.”

He offered his arm to Nyaul, smiling before walking them through the beautiful displays. “Don’t you love it here? Nothing bad could happen in a place like this…unless you cross the proprietress.”

Nyaul looked around for danger, then nodded, sensing no immediate threats. Finding a young woman in a brown poncho attending some jewellery, they wandered over to meet with her.

“May I help you?”

“Yes. I was looking for a present for this herrro,” Nyaul answered.

H’ollie grinned widly as the sales woman gave him a smile.

“Certainly. Did you have something special in mind?”

“Yes. Silver. For less than ten gil. Nothing tacky.”

“My. We are to the point it seems. With that price point, that limits our selection for you to more or less novelty items. Perhaps this silver tomestone stylus,” the woman offered, pulling out a small silver pen, “Seven gil.”

“The price is correct; however, I was looking for something sentimental. What do you think Ollie?”

“Ah, I never can find my tomestone. I’d probably lose that too.”

Nyaul shook their head then pushed the pen back toward the saleswoman. “It seems we might be unable to make a purchase,” they started before noticing a small sign on the desk, “Do you offer engraving services as it says?”

“Yes, though, you’d need something to engrave.”

Nyaul nodded, then slipped a silver cuff from her wrist, “This was not purchased at Tataru’s. Could you engrave this and have it fitted for his wrist?”

“That wouldn’t be beneath you would it,” H’ollie asked, worried, “We didn’t even buy it here.” “Not at all. Here at Tataru’s we are very understanding. If you would provide your initials, we can have it ready for you by the morning.”

“See Nangho, this place is the best,” H’ollie purred, ears fluttering.

Nyaul nodded, then handed over the silver bangle and the ten gil.

A receipt issued, the two sauntered out happily then wandered through the streets together talking happily until they circled the city once before the Nuhn’s feet started to get tired. Nyaul wishing to remedy the issue, pulled them into the library and into the reference room so they could sit down for a moment until he was ready to get back up on his feet.

“Huh…what’s with all the drawers? Are the books in them? They must be small.”

“Each of the drawers are filled with cards that have a book or author.”

“Cool cool,” the Nuhn hummed, fingers trailing over some of the letters until finding a W.

Eagerly, H’ollie started to go through the drawer until pulling out one and holding it up, “Whitesun, Nyaul. “Nine Poems”! Does this mean they have it?”

Nyaul stood then took the card before leading H’ollie to the front desk and handing it over to a librarian at the front desk.

“That’s ‘Nine Poems’ by Nyaul Whitesun! Do you have it,” H’ollie asked eagerly.

The librarian hushed him before turning and wandering away for a moment, returning later with the small book of poetry.

“Did you ever read it,” he asked the stranger.

“No.”

“Well you should. They wrote it,” he said, gesturing to Nyaul.

The librarian looked on unimpressed, making H’ollie scowl.

“She doesn’t believe me. Show her your adventurer plate! Honest. They are really the author!”

“Would you lower your voice,” the woman demanded.

“You should autograph it for them. It’ll make it unique and valuable,” H’ollie hummed, reaching over to grab a quill and ink.

“Sir! I insist-”

“What should I write,” Nyaul asked, taking the quill.

“Somethin’ sentimental?”

“What are you doing!? Stop it! You’re defacing public property,” the librarian shrieked, Nyaul scribbling ‘Somethin’ sentimental. N.W’ in the book before shutting it and letting H’ollie push it back to the librarian.

“If that’s the way you feel then we’ll get out of here. This place isn’t half as welcoming as Tataru’s!”

With that the two ran off together, back out into the street before wandering toward their home. As they moved along, H’ollie’s tail swished alongside of Nyaul’s, never quite touching until he suddenly flicked it upward and paused.

“You know. I can think of another thing we’ve never done…,” he started, face a bit red.

Nyaul turned then found themself in the Nuhn’s arms. Eyes closing, H’ollie leaned in then kissed the writer softly, before kissing them again, and again until lost in each other’s embrace.

The next morning, Nyaul woke up alone. They quickly sat upright then looked around before getting up to dress and head down to wake up H’ollie, to find that they were not there. As they wandered room to room, a small meow broke out and alerted them to a small stalker that had followed them around.

“Good morning Coeurl. Is the master of the house home?”

Coeurl meowed, rubbing between Nyaul’s legs.

“Understood. I shall provide you with some food,” the writer answered, going to the kitchen to lay out a small plate of fish from the fridge, “When our herrro returns, please tell him that I came by.”

Leaving the pet to snack, Nyaul exited the apartment then noticed I’khuba letting themselves into the foyer below. Retreating into H’ollie’s apartment, they made evasive manoeuvres out the window then upstairs to their apartment to greet the other as he entered the room.

“I was ringing for you.”

“Apologies. I was not expecting you,” Nyaul greeted with a small bow.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re quirky. I love that about you,” I’khuba answered moving in to kiss Nyaul.

The writer rebuffed him, shaking their head. “We need to talk.”

The Tia recoiled, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “All right, if this is going to be a serious conversation we should sit.”

The man moved toward the other’s desk, taking a seat then crossing his leg, staring the other down as he glowered.

“I can’t say I hadn’t expected this conversation to happen. Well, who is he?”

“He has nothing to do with it. This is between you and me.”

“Then it is far more serious than I expected.”

“You are a respectable man. I wish to end this respectably.”

“End it,” I’khuba asked, “And here I didn’t think you were capable of falling in love. It’s completely out of character. Did you find yourself a mercenary? A flame? No, you’d want someone more interesting than that. Someone with money to indulge your flavour of the month then?”

“No. He is a dreamer who does his best. Someone I enjoy helping.”

“Alright. Well, I’ll tell you what. I am a very respectable man,” he huffed, pulling out his wallet to pull out some bills noting the stare from the writer, “Don’t study me. You’ve seen me shell out gil plenty of times. You’re entitled to a vacation after a year or so with me. A thousand gil. Take it.”

“No,” Nyaul answered, “I have no need of your money. I shall remove myself at your convenience. When you find yourself a new writer, find one in my size. You won’t have to let the dresses out.”

With that, the writer abandoned their patron and exited the building, wandering the street for the moment before heading to Tataru’s to pick up the bangle, ensuring the H’O N  was inscribed correctly on it before returning the apartments to find H’ollie curled up in a chair with a stack of books about the Sagoli around him.

H’ollie looked up, eyes bright before lowering them soberly and returning his attention to the page, “What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“I’m busy…”

“What are you doing?”

“Reading.”

Nyaul stood still, simply observing H’ollie read until he looked back up next, “I wish to take you out of here. I want to talk to you.”

“You gotta go…and leave me alone.”

“No. I am in love with you,” Nyaul stated plainly.

H’ollie’s ears perked slightly, but were not allowed to flit all the way up before moving to get his things and try to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“To the arcade.”

Nyaul turned, taking the other by the end of the tufts of his tail, standing still as the Nuhn tried walking away in place.

“Please…you gotta let me go Nangho…”

“I am not Nangho. I have never been Nangho. I am Nyaul Whitesun and I love you.”

“You have to…”

“I wish to settle this. Let’s start at the beginning. Why are you reading about Old Sharlayan?”

“I’m…I’m gonna go to my sire and take my place as the Nuhn of my tribe. I thought I should learn more about the hunting grounds.”

“Unacceptable.”

“You gotta let me go…”

“I will not let you abandon your dream.”

“What? Because yesterday you think you…you own me or something?”

“Yes. I am responsible for you.”

“That’s what everyone thinks…but everyone is wrong…,” H’ollie huffed, not meeting her gaze.

“I am not everyone. I am not to be conflated with your huntresses.”

H’ollie folded his ears then shook his head.

“I see. Understood. If that is your assessment then you are in need of this,” Nyaul said, placing 50 gil in the other’s head, “For the arcade.”

With that, the writer left the room, leaving H’ollie to stand in silence. Nyaul didn’t hear from the other for a week, nor cared to go in search anymore. They took their time packing their things, separating their own things from what I’khuba had provided. As they finished, a rancorous occurred below, but for once, they had no intention of intervening, that is until there was a rap at the door.

Answering it, Nyaul found a small huntress nervously looking back down toward the apartment below. “Please. You are Nyaul, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Please, I need your help. H’ollie…he’s…” they started before flinching as the sound of glass shattering echoed through the hall.

“Are you injured?”

“No, but I’m scared for Ollie,” the woman answered.

Nyaul nodded then hurried downstairs, finding H’ollie wailing and surrounded by broken glass. Carefully, the other walked through the room and pulled him into her embrace. “You must go to your bed.”

“O-Okay…” he sniffled before being lifted easily and moved to the bedroom.

Nyaul tucked him in, helping him out of his day clothes before wrapping him in his blanket. Returning to the living room, they found the huntress sweeping some of the glass.

“What happened,” the writer asked directly.

“A bird came and he lost it. He started to cry then destroyed everything in sight. Let’s see…here. This is the letter,” the young woman explained, bending down to pick up the paper and hand it over.

Nyaul looked down at the writing, examining the broken Ala Mhigan seal then the contents which they read aloud,  “To whom it may concern. L’nangho Behn lost her life in a reconnaissance mission against the Garlean nation. We have buried her with honours and will send personal belongings to the address provided at the penning of her contract. The nation of Ala Mhigo is forever indebted to you and yours for the sacrifice made to restore our home.”

“Oh no! Nangho,” the young woman gasped, covering her mouth then sitting.

“He loved her…very much,” Nyaul stated, handing back the letter.

“Yes, the best of friends. Thick as thieves. I thought he might have fancied her, but he was always very respectful, unlike other Tia.”

“Understood. I will not be a sufficient source of comfort for this situation. There is an arcade near your territory? Correct?”

“The Golden Saucer itself,” the woman assured them.

“Good. That will enrich him. I-”

As Nyaul went to wish them well, the front door flew off the hinges behind them.

“IN THERE OFFICERS. HE SHOULD BE IN THERE,” the landlady bellowed, pointing her spear toward the bedroom door as Flames followed in behind her.

“What is going on,” Nyaul asked calmly, looking to the one who looked most in charge.

“Ask your boss.”

“I have no boss.”

“Ricky Popoto.”

Thrown in to some clothes, H’ollie was carried out, struggling in confusion as he looked back to Nyaul in distress. “F-Feed Coeurl,” he managed to get out before being properly apprehended.

The writer followed the troop as they hauled the Miqo’te off, leaving Coeurl with H’ollie’s visitor. Arriving at the Immortal Flames’s headquarters, Nyaul waited for them to finish interrogating the Nuhn, warily watching as reporters started to file in. After a few hours, the Flames eventually let H’ollie free, the Miqo’te looking rather bewildered.

“I-I don’t understand what everyone wants from me?”

“Why did you visit Popoto,” a reporter called out.

“I just gave Big Bro Ricky the weather report. I dunno anything about paintings or sculptures or other acquisitions. He’s just a really cool guy that I liked to hang out with!” Nyual quickly interjected, getting in the lawyer’s way, “Please stop talking Ollie. Let the lawyer take care of that.”

“Lawyer? I need one of those? I told them I didn’t.”

Nyaul stared blankly, causing H’ollie to swallow, picking up on the annoyance from the neutral expression. Together they left and hurried back to his apartment. “Please, do not talk to the press. Miss, take care of him.”

With that, the writer departed, leaving to go settle themself in at their new place. Days passed, the papers going wild about the Ricky Popoto story. H’ollie seemed to do as they were told, staying out of the limelight for once. As things started to calm down, Nyaul thought it a good time to check on the other, catching the young woman they’d met before leaving with a suitcase as they walked up to the apartment.

“Hello Miss. Are you and Ollie leaving?”

“No. Just me. After all this, we think it’s best for him to stay away for a time. Just until things settle down for him.”

“Unacceptable.”

“Pardon?”

“Ollie gave up on his dream to return to do his duty. His naivety got him into trouble, yes; however, that is not an acceptable reason to turn your backs on him.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just what the huntresses decided. Could you help him get settled in at his new place though? I think he’ll need a friendly face.”

With that, the young woman left Nyual to go inside and upstairs to check on H’ollie, finding him humming away as he packed up his things. Hearing the writer’s approach, he perked his ears then turned with his usual smile.

“Nyaul! It’s good to see you.”

“I find it pleasant to see you too…And you as well Coeurl,” the writer answered, lowering to pick up the small beastkin and hold it while it squirmed, “I shall escort you to your new residence.”

“Coeurl! There you are,” H’ollie breathed out, slinging his pack over his shoulder before taking the pet from them, “Poor no-named slob. Anyroad, did you see an airship pass?”

Nyaul looked around then found it on the counter, waving it at him, “We can exchange it for the cancellation cost. Or sell it at the Quicksand.”

“Sell it? Are you kidding? What time is it?”

“Ten bells.”

“Good, let’s get downstairs and call over a carriage.”

“You cannot do that…”

“Why not?”

“You will be violating your bail. You will be apprehended at the gate and imprisoned with your friend.,” they answered, getting into the carriage behind H’ollie as he gave directions.

“That’s silly. I didn’t do anything. And come tomorrow, I’ll be the proper Nuhn of my tribe.”

“You will not.”

“Why’s that?”

“Your friend said they told you to stay away.”

“Nonsense. I'm the Nuhn! I have a duty to fulfil.”

Nyaul stared quietly.

“What? I’m not actually wanted or anything. They just want me to say what I know about Ricky on the stand, no one wants to put me in jail. And the huntresses have been clawing at me since I became the age of majority and made a name for myself in hunting circles. Anyway, this town’s finished for me so I should get out anyway. I can go camp somewhere in the sands until they call for me or something.”

Nyaul listened, then finally spoke. “Ollie. I am in love with you.”

“So what?”

“So plenty. I love you. You belong to me.”

“People don’t belong to people. You just wanna put me in a cage or somethin’, just like Coeurl here. Both of us are just no-named slobs who don’t belong to anyone. Driver! Stop here.”

“Why are we stopping,” Nyaul asked, watching H’ollie open the door to let Coeurl out.

“It’s a nice little alley for him. He’s a tough guy. Plenty of cans and rats and coeurl friends for him out there. Go on, scram!”

Coeurl blinked then looked up at his former friend.

“I said beat it,” he huffed, getting out of the carriage to scare him off.

Nyaul exited the vehicle, watching Coeurl scamper away down the alley. H’ollie huffed then moved to get back into his seat.

“Are you coming?”

“No.”

“All right then, you can take off too,” he huffed.

Nyaul seized the door, not letting it close as H’ollie went to slam it.

“You know what your problem is, Ollie. You keep calling yourself a Nuhn, and a herrro. But you are a chicken, you’ve got - you’ve got no guts. Uhm.. You’re afraid to. Afraid to…”

“Rahn,” said Nyx.

U’rahn had gotten excited, his tail thrashing once more, starting to slip over his own words. He stopped, looking over at the other.

“The heroine has become rather more impassioned than you have portrayed her thus far, and you are agitated. Your storytales are often a mix of stories you know, but also the people that you know. Nyaul is clearly meant to be similar to myself.”

“What? Nah, nah, it’s just a storytale! The names are just coincidences! And I’m fine.” protested U’rahn, fidgeting.

“If that is true, I will believe you,” said Nyx.

U’rahn fidgeted some more. “I really am fine. And maybe I’m bad with makin’ up names,” he said.

“Indeed. I know you have asked me not to interrupt your storytales, but I feel in this case, I can perhaps assist. If you will allow me.”

“Wh-what? I, uhm, I don’t know about that…”

Nyx reached up, and gently touched a hand to the base of one of his cones, their hand somehow cool and calming.

“Your words have reminded me of something similar that was said to me once. I believe I can provide a sample from that experience that may help you preserve your message as well as enhance your characterisation thus far.”

“W-well… alright.”

Nyx nodded, and her voice began to take on subtle inflections that they normally did not exhibit as they spoke.

“Do you know what your problem is? I’m going to tell you. In a way that you’ll understand, so make sure you’re listening. You act like a person. But you are an empty thing. No drive. No guts. You avoid doing anything you cannot predict the outcome of. Too bad. So come at me, empty doll. I will show you the future you don’t exist in.”

“Hey what where’d that come from?”

“It is something someone once said to me. It is closer to how I might express the sentiments you are struggling with in this passage now. However, if I told the story, I would diverge. Then it would not be your storytale. It would be mine. You are good at adaptation, however.”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” said U’rahn, starting to get up. “Someone said that to you? I’ll - I’ll kick their tail, that’s what I’ll do!”

“That is unnecessary. I shall find her myself one day.”

Rahn stood in the water, the light of the stars flickering around him in the waves of his agitation. After a moment, he sat back down again, causing more ripples to flow away from him.

“I - I don’t always know how you feel or think, but this time… this time I think I know what you’re tryin’ to say.”

“Are you comfortable continuing your story?”

“...yeah. Yeah. Let me just - let me just get back into it. I think - I think I’m goin’ to say it how I wanted to though.”

“As you see best. Proceed.”

Rahn took a deep breath, and picked up the tale again.

“You know what your problem is, Ollie. You keep calling yourself a Nuhn, and a herrro. But you are a chicken, you’ve got no guts. You are afraid to stick out your tail and say “Life is a fact. People do fall in love, people do belong to each other because that’s the only chance anybody has for real happiness.’ You are terrified that you will not be able to live up to the standards of those mantles. And it’s not standards set by your tribe or your father. You’ve made a cage, and it’s wherever you roam. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running to yourself.”

H’ollie looked up wide-eyed, on the breech of tears.

U’rahn paused to look over at Nyx. When Nyx nodded, he took a deep breath, and continued.

“Here. I collected this for you a few months ago. I do not want it anymore,” Nyaul stated, tossing a Tataru’s box onto his lap before wandering off into the alley to look for Coeurl themselves.

The Nuhn sat there stunned for a moment then opened the box, finding the bracelet with his initials on it. Sniffling, he tore out of the carriage just as thunder clapped out above. Rain soon poured down upon him as he ran into the alley after Nyaul.

“We gotta find Coeurl! Coeurl! COEURL! Come out,” he cried, “We have to get him. I thought…I thought he was just a passing buddy, but I was wrong…we belong to each other. He’s my Coeurl! Coeurl! Coeurl!”

Nyaul watched as H’ollie frantically ran about until hearing Coeurl’s meow. Quickly, the Nuhn scooped him up and held him close, putting him in his shirt to get him out of the rain before wandering back over to Nyaul. They stared at one another for a moment before embracing, sheltering Coeurl before starting to kiss in the alley as rain poured about them. 

“Your heroine remained more impassioned towards the end,” Nyx commented.

“Nyx…”

“I enjoyed this storytale despite it. I hope I helped you find the voice you needed.”

“Nyx!”

They turned as U’rahn’s voice echoed against the rocks, watching him tremble as he reached out to take their hand. “I belong to you…yeah?”

“No. I recall what it was like to be owned. I preferred it when I became tolerated. And I recall what it is like to be tolerated. I prefer it when I am accepted. However, I am fond of you in the manner in which you are trying to imply. You have accepted me. I in turn accept you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Quietly, U’rahn looked up into the sky while Nyx studied his face, the Nuhn’s gaze soft, eyes slightly puffy, perhaps moved by his own story, or the insecurities he had failed to be subtle about expressing throughout. 

“Rahn. Your storytale has inspired an idea. It is not only myself who should have new experiences through our relationship. We should do something you’ve never done before tonight.”

U’rahn blinked, attention returning to Nyx as they moved closer. Before he could ask, he felt her lips against his, and her hand slide up his thigh. His ears perked high, then lowered softly as he moved to hold her.

Under the moonlight and in the springs of his beloved home. With the one he’d come to love the most. U’rahn finally lived up to his destined name.

[kevinsreviewcatalogue]

Review: The Avengers (2012)

The Avengers (2012)

Rated PG-13 for intense sequences of sci-fi violence and action throughout, and a mild drug reference

<Originally posted at https://kevinsreviewcatalogue.blogspot.com/2023/04/review-avengers-2012.html>

Score: 5 out of 5

Eleven years and dozens of movies and TV shows later, The Avengers still stands as arguably the greatest achievement of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Even more than its best standalone films like Guardians of the Galaxy and Black Panther, this was the movie that demonstrated what the "idea" of the MCU could produce and accomplish, a shared universe that brought together characters from different popular movies for a big crossover in which they all got a chance to shine as a team. Looking back, the legacy of the MCU on Hollywood as a whole has been mixed, such that it's increasingly come in for backlash in the last few years to the point where hating the series is no longer necessarily a contrarian take, the genuinely divisive reception to recent movies and shows in the franchise not helping its case. (I've been nicer to Marvel's recent output than most, and even I can't help but feel that there's a bit of malaise there.) Which makes it all the more impressive to see that, watching the original Avengers again with a group of kids who were either in diapers or not even born yet when it came out and experienced the series mostly through home video and streaming, it still absolutely holds up, and moreover, it reminded me of what Marvel's strengths were back in its 2010s imperial phase when it was firing on all cylinders. It's got an all-star cast, probably the best direction of Joss Whedon's career, and a use of continuity that enriches the experience for those who've seen the prior films in the franchise but doesn't detract from it if you haven't -- the secret sauce that, if you ask me, allowed the MCU to succeed for so long where other, similar attempts at big, modular franchises failed, and something that it's lost sight of recently. Once we're past the backlash phase and old enough to be nostalgic for the MCU (won't that be something), I think that this movie and "Phase One" more broadly will get its due once again.

The plot feels like it could've been lifted out of any number of Big Event crossovers from the comics. An alien race called the Chitauri, led by the Norse trickster god Loki (the Norse gods in this universe being aliens themselves) with a chip on his shoulder, is planning to invade Earth, and Nick Fury, director of the secret government agency S.H.I.E.L.D., has a plan to stop them: assemble a collection of exceptional individuals with unique skills to lead the fight. They include: Tony Stark, the egotistical billionaire CEO of a weapons manufacturer who built a suit of high-tech "Iron Man" powered armor to fight terrorists; Steve Rogers, the product of an American World War II scientific program to create a superior fighting man who wound up frozen in ice for decades and thawed out in the present day; Bruce Banner, a brilliant physicist who, thanks to an accident during an experiment with gamma radiation, developed a monstrous Jekyll-and-Hyde alter ego called the Hulk that comes out when he's angry or stressed; Thor, the Norse god of thunder seeking to stop his adoptive brother Loki's warpath and return him to Asgard for judgment; and Natasha Romanoff; a deadly spy codenamed "Black Widow" who defected from Russia and is now one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top agents. Unfortunately, Loki, using his own supernatural gifts, has seduced a number of humans to his own side, most notably Erik Selvig, a physicist who was researching an alien artifact called the Tesseract that Loki needs to open a portal to bring his army to Earth, and Clint Barton, another S.H.I.E.L.D. agent codenamed "Hawkeye" who knows his employer inside and out.

The underlying theme of most of the first two acts of this movie is a reflection of what people in real life, from critics to comic book fans to much of the movie's audience, were thinking in 2012: "can this actually work?" Can you do this kind of superhero team-up in the movies the way they do it in the comics? It's here where you see why Marvel producer Kevin Feige sought out Joss Whedon to write and direct this movie, and not just because he was already a geek media legend by then. Whedon's style has unfortunately been caricatured over the years as revolving around jokey, flippant dialogue, thanks in no small part to the many filmmakers and TV show runners who've tried to imitate it, and the man's own personal controversies in the last several years have made him an easy punching bag. That said, anybody who's watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, or Firefly knows that his real strength as a writer, the thing that separated him from the countless writers making jokey, flippant Shane Black ripoffs back in the '90s, was working with large ensemble casts in which there often wasn't a singular protagonist.

Whedon tackles the question of whether this will work head-on by making the real "arc" of the movie revolve less around stopping Loki than around having Iron Man, Captain America, Thor, and the Incredible Hulk, the four marquee superheroes who each had their origin stories told in prior movies, learn to put aside their differences and work as a team. They each bring their own larger-than-life personalities to the table, and while Tony and Bruce hit it off immediately over their shared love of science, Tony's ego and gung-ho attitude clash with both Steve's Boy Scout values and military code of honor and Thor's own ego as a superbeing of ancient legend, while Bruce's volatile temper and the end result of such threatens to get them all killed if he can't control it. Loki knows all of this, and for much of the film, a good chunk of his plan, as befitting a trickster god, is to play mind games with the heroes and convince them to tear each other apart so that he can move on and conquer Earth in their absence. Black Widow and Hawkeye, the relative newcomers to the MCU (the former had been a supporting character in Iron Man 2 but wouldn't get her own movie for nearly a decade), serve as surrogates for audience members who know what superheroes are but may not have seen every (or even any) prior movie in the series, while Nick Fury, the authority figure looming over them all, is the ringmaster who introduces us to them and brings them all together.

It helps when you've got a bunch of A-list (or soon-to-be-A-list) actors at the top of their game, the kinds of people who feel born to play these sorts of figures. Robert Downey, Jr.'s great gift as Tony Stark was making him just unlikable enough that you want to see him humbled but not so much that you want to see him lose, Chris Evans always knew how to make Steve Rogers feel like a good-hearted average Joe given extraordinary abilities but never forgetting who he used to be, Chris Hemsworth was exactly the kind of chiseled, Ahnold-style hunk you'd need to play the mighty God of Thunder, and Mark Ruffalo, replacing Edward Norton after some complicated backstage politics, brought an almost Jeff Goldblum-style energy to Bruce Banner, a squirrelly nerd who's visibly hiding a shameful secret. Scarlett Johansson, meanwhile, made her scenes in this movie as Natasha a demo reel for her as both an action hero and a femme fatale, while Samuel L. Jackson brought his usual BAMF energy to a PG-13 version of such as Nick Fury, a man who most of us would happily take orders from. Last but not least, Tom Hiddleston as Loki is exactly the kind of classy-yet-subtly-off-putting British theater actor you want playing a hammy, egomaniacal villain straight out of mythology, like a young Alan Rickman, standing as one of the best villains the MCU's ever had to this day and only failing to steal the show out from under everyone else because, again, this is a Joss Whedon ensemble piece where everybody gets a moment in the sun.

(And Hawkeye seems cool, like a really nice guy. Okay, I kid, Jeremy Renner was alright in the part. He was much better in later movies, though. There's a reason why people used to make fun of him so much.)

The quality of Whedon's work here doesn't stop at his writing, either. The MCU has never been known as a visually inventive series, and a lot of people blame Whedon for that, accusing him of bringing a flat visual style straight out of network television to the biggest blockbuster franchise in Hollywood and relying on his writing as his main creative thumbprint. I'm convinced that they got Whedon mixed up with the Russo brothers who handled the later Avengers films, because Whedon actually does a lot that's interesting behind the camera. Noting that scenes in superhero movies look like they were pulled straight out of a comic book is practically a cliché at this point, but in this case, it's a perfect description, as Whedon seemed to understand exactly how to bring a comic book splash panel to life on the big screen. This movie looks and feels epic, with action that's not only well-shot and easy to follow but also downright massive in scope, often having several things going on at once in the bigger sequences like the attack on the helicarrier and the climatic third-act battle in the streets of Manhattan. The effects were top-notch and felt like they had all the love and care in the world put into them, especially in comparison to some of the rush jobs that more recent Marvel movies have been guilty of. This was the kind of movie they make movie theaters for, and even watching it at home, I was consistently enthralled by its action sequences. There's a reason why so many sci-fi blockbuster action movies in the 2010s had their villains shoot big beams of light into the sky as part of their plan, or featured armies of faceless alien monsters for the heroes to fight without feeling guilty about killing people, and that's because this movie did it so amazingly well that everybody else couldn't help but copy its notes.

The Bottom Line

The Avengers is a movie that still holds up even after countless superhero movies, including in its own franchise, that tried to top it. I don't know if I'd call it the best movie in the MCU, but it's certainly the most impactful, the one that everyone's gonna remember above all else (barring maybe Black Panther) years from now as the movie that made the whole enterprise worth it.