#he's been trained his whole life to read people at parties and know what they want from him and what they mean

[voiider]

fake psychic Tim but its just. its just psych. Jason dies and batman goes off the deep end so Tim (instead of becoming robin) starts going ham on the 'tips to the police' bc if the police can deal with the smaller crimes then Tim doesn't have to worry about batman killing a petty thief.

Except he's running himself into the ground and he starts getting sloppy bc he's giving the local police info, and bludhaven info (bc dick) AND probably giving Nightwing info when he can and someone catches him or he leaves a paper trail and then Officer Dick Grayson apprehends him and takes him in for questioning and Tim is like "you can't talk to me without my parents or a lawyer present, I'm a minor. And my parents are in Guatemala, so you better call my lawyer."

and Dick is like "kid you're not in trouble i just need to know who's giving you this information." Because there is NO WAY this kid isn't working with someone. Someone who is using a child to drop off information, which while noble to help the police, is putting this child in danger and tim is like, pretty offended actually. That it's being implied that he COULDN'T do this himself.

So he's like "im not working for anyone."

and Dick is like "you have to be getting the info from somewhere. I just wanna help."

and Tim is like AUGH ADULTS "I just- i figured it out on my own" and its CLEAR that Dick doesn't believe him which is, first off, super insulting, never meet your heroes, and second he shouldn't be talking anyway or admit that he goes out at night or Dick will do something stupid like try to make him stop. So he's like (rolling eyes) "I'm psychic. Are you happy? Can I have my phone call now?"

[phoenixkaptain]

I love it when pre Original Trilogy era shows how much effort went into making the Death Star. It took decades, literal decades, and it took so much money and so many people and it was such a secretive thing and it’s staffed by millions because it’s the size of a small moon.

I cannot express how much all of the added information makes it so much funnier that Luke blew it up.

Luke destroys literally everything Palpatine built. He blows up the Death Star, which was referenced in universe as early as the second movie. He blew up the weapon of mass destruction twenty years in the making. And he blew it up pretty much directly after it’s first and only successful attack. It was operational for fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes that Palpatine had the thing he’d been building for longer than Luke has been alive, and Luke blows it up. First day retirement, but first hour retirement.

Luke convinces Darth Vader to turn back to the light side, a feat thought literally impossible by literally everybody. Sidious clearly doesn’t see Vader’s betrayal coming. Vader’s betrayal was not in his plans, nor was it something he was prepared for. Sidious is a powerful Force user with all four limbs while Vader is a man in the tin can Palpatine put him in. If Palpatine had seen Vader turning coming, he would not have allowed it to happen.

Luke literally should not even be alive. Palpatine almost definitely got Padme out of the way on purpose, and he almost certainly was trying for her unborn child as well (there was way too big of a risk that a cute liddol bebe would bring some humanity back to Anakin, and Palpatine did not want Anakin to have any humanity) Luke living is literally the first step in Palpatine’s ultimate downfall, especially once Vader finds out that Luke is his son. His very alive son. His son that is not dead, despite Palpatine claiming Anakin killed Padme. Implying that Anakin killed Padme and she posthumously gave birth. But, she didn’t give birth on Mustafar, which was the last place Anakin interacted with her. And once the mother dies, you have to get those fuckers out fast or they die too.

I imagine Darth Vader piecing all of this together is that meme with all the math floating around his head, because how could Padme have died by his hand and then given birth like two hours later?

Luke killing Palpatine is what ultimately leads to the dissolution of the Empire as an omnipotent entity. Luke killed the Empire. Luke spends a good amount of his adult life killing Empire remnants. We see that in the Mandalorian, since he’s so recognizable that Gideon immediately knows he’s fucked just by seeing an X-wing. We read it in Legends’ continuity, where Luke terrifies Imperials because he can walk into their changing room and stand in their for a minute and they don’t even notice.

Luke destroyed Palpatine’s life’s work. Everything Palpatine spent his whole life working towards, and Luke kills all of it. He blows up not one, but two Death Stars (he may not have pulled the trigger on the second Death Star, but without him, it never would have been destroyed). He convinces not one, but multiple Sith and Dark Jedi to return from the Dark Side. He is the only reason that Obi-Wan Kenobi, the biggest pain in Palpatine’s ass ever born, lives long enough to make it to the Death Star.

Palpatine went through so much effort. And just when he had finally won, when he finally had a weapon capable of destroying entire planets with a single blast, making it impossible for any planets or peoples to go against him, Luke shows up nineteen years late to the Jedi party with space Starbucks and a droid twice his age and almost singlehandedly destroys everything Palpatine ever had a hand in creating.

Luke manages to become even worse than Obi-Wan Kenobi, the ultimate thorn in the side of politicians, and Luke doesn’t even understand any politics. He wasn’t trained in diplomacy like Obi-Wan and Leia, no, he’s a farmboy who left home for the first time in his entire life, just this morning. And he is the one to destroy the Empire.

If they rewrote Star Wars and had it entirely from Palpatine’s perspective, Luke Skywalker would be his greatest foe. Luke Skywalker would be the final boss. Luke Skywalker is the antithesis of everything Palpatine believes in and he is the one character that Palpatine cannot predict. He isn’t as moldable as Anakin, he doesn’t respond to threats very well, he’s apparently impossible to kill via Force lightning (still the funniest scene of all times, the progression of Palpatine’s face falling and him looking like “what the fuck??? Is this kid rubber??? I’ve electrocuted him eight times???”), his unwavering faith in his father’s goodness makes Darth Vader want to be a better person, Luke Skywalker is the big bad of Palpatine’s story and—

There is nothing in this world that is funnier than someone’s biggest antagonist being Luke fucking Skywalker. Luke Skywalker, who saved the galaxy with the power of love and who shouldn’t exist, by Jedi rules and by Palpatine’s own attempts, and whose best friends are literally droids, which Palpatine canonically hates!

Everything about this is hilarious, this is the funniest thing in all of media, Palpatine loses absolutely everything to some backwater farmboy who fucking likes droids.

[facioleeknow]

The art of pleasure ch.1

Caress ° Bang Chan

When one girl in your class makes fun of you for being a virgin at a party, you are left distraught. It's only natural that you decide to whine about it to your best friend, Bang Chan; but he does more than lending a shoulder to cry on, he comes up with a solution. He and his 7 friends will help you and teach you all about the pleasure of the flesh. What could go wrong?

Genre: College AU, SMUT 18+ ONLY wc: 1431

Warnings: fraternity skz, inexperienced reader, experienced chan and stray kids, kissing, frat party, a bitch, insecurities

The art of pleasure masterlist

A/N: Hello, thank you so much for the support on this series!! This chapter is pretty tame BUT IT IS THE FIRST, so don't worry about it!! Channie girls don't worry he's gonna get some later ;)

Another semester. Another party at the only frat house on campus, it was nothing out of the ordinary. The usual room filled with flowing alcohol and the usual people, dancing to the usual songs. You’re sure it might be the idea of fun of some of the people that surrounded you but not yours, obviously not yours. That was why you were the only unusual thing in there. You weren’t a party animal, you weren’t so extroverted as to go to a party to have fun. Unfortunately it was also your best friend’s birthday who happened to be the president of the fraternity, so you really couldn’t have said no to his invitation. 

The scene in front of you shifted. A drunk girl started approaching you.

“Oh my god, Y/N! You’re here, I’m so happy to see you,” the girl, from one of your classes, threw her arms around you and squeezed tightly. The feeling of her foreign body pressed against yours made you shiver uncomfortably. 

“Oh, c’mon Y/Nnie, loosen up a little!” Alice said with a sly slime. Before you could commit murder in cold blood in front of your whole year, your two (out of three) friends pulled you away into a more secluded area of the room. In front of you laid a messy circle of people, intently focused on a spinning bottle.

‘Yuck’

“I can't believe people still play spin the bottle at their old age,” Shuhua mumbled as disgusted as you.

“You read my mind,Shu.”

“Omg Y/Nnie! You want to play spin the bottle? Wouldn't it be embarrassing tho? Since you're a virgin at your big age,” Alice fell into a fit of giggles, soon followed by her friends.

“God, she cannot be serious,” you whispered to your friends while you all collectively side-eyed the bitch. And that was exactly what she was, nothing other than a bitch. But then why was your face burning in shame and your heart racing? Why were your palms sweating so much? You shouldn't have been that affected but you were.

For the whole night you couldn’t help but think about Alice's words, because no matter how spiteful they were and how much of a bitch she was, they were also true. You were a virgin “at your big age”, but that had never bothered you until you had entered college. Never in your life had you seen so many people get involved with each other and in some ways you felt pushed aside and in the dark about this magical new world that everybody had already discovered, everybody but you. 

The red solo cup in your hands wrinkled slightly under your fingertips as you squeezed it. You shouldn’t have been thinking about those things, why were you hyperfocusing right now?

“You’re supposed to collect the cups, babygirl, not strangle them,”a masculine voice pulled you out of your train of thoughts. Bang Chan, the birthday boy and your best friend. You and Chan had known each other since your first year of college, he had saved you from making a fool out of yourself the first day and walked you to your lecture hall. Since then he had stuck by your side and helped you make some new friends even if you were extremely picky with people.

“Ew, Christopher, I told you not to call me that,” you grimaced at the cringey name. He just giggled.

“I know, but I like annoying you too much,” another giggle. A small smile threatened to break your “angry” facade, this carefree side of him was a rare sight and the fact that he was showing it to you was making you giddy.

His warm hands snatched the trash bag away from you before clasping around your smaller ones. 

“Seriously, what is going on?”

Lying wasn’t an option, he was way too observant for his own good, he always knew when you lied even when you didn’t yourself. You scoffed.

“Just something Alice said,'' and with that you tried to grab the bag from behind him to resume your job. No movement, he had an iron grip on you.

“What did she say?”

“Just her usual nagging, you know how she is,” you tugged and tried to get away from his grip to no avail.

“Tell me,” he wasn’t asking and that was obvious to the both of you.

“She said that it’s embarrassing to be a virgin at my big age.”

Chan finally let your hands fall to your sides and in exchange wrapped his arms around you and squished you against his chest.

“Bitch, she shouldn’t have been here, she wasn’t invited,” his chest rumbled with his words, “I’m sorry Y/N, I hope you know she’s in the wrong.” 

With your arms wrapped around Chan and your face squished against his chest, with the gentleness of his voice caressing you, you found it hard to lie so you just stayed silent.

“Oh baby, don’t think about it, okay? She’s wrong and there is nothing wrong with you. Let’s go to bed, I can clean up tomorrow morning.”

For the whole night you tossed and turned with always the same thought in you mind, hoping not to wake Chan who was sleeping soundly next to you for once.It was no surprise that early in the morning you felt exhausted, your limbs were heavy and your mind was foggy, but you still couldn’t fall asleep. 

“Did you sleep at all? I heard you move around a lot,” Christopher groaned next to you, his arm lazily draped over your middle.

“Sorry,” you tried to utter in your half dead state.

“I had an idea while I was sleeping,” he dragged your body against his and started to gently rub your arm to ease you to sleep. You only hummed in response.

“You should let me and the kids teach you about sex, you know us and we’re good people, we would never push you to do anything. We can take anything at your own pace, we’ll teach you well,” he spoke like he was saying the most natural thing in the world and not suggesting you get passed between him and his other seven friends. Sensing your confusion, Chan gently shushed you and started rubbing your arm again.

“Think about it, we can talk about it when you wake up.”

A witty response was about to come out of your mouth but darkness enveloped you like a hug. Chan hugged you tighter to his chest and sighed. ‘That went well’, he thought.

When you woke up, a blinding light was filtering through the window. Damn Christopher who never closed the blinds.

“Good morning,” the said man chirped happily from next to you. The moment you laid your eyes on him, the conversation from that morning resurfaced to your mind. The frantic beating of your heart sent a shot of adrenaline through you.

“I take it you remember what I asked you,” he put his phone back on his nightstand to fully give you his attention.

“Chris..” you started but he swiftly interrupted you.

“We’re not doing it out of pity, we are all attracted to you, we wouldn’t make it awkward and if you refuse it’s gonna be like it never happened,” Chris answered all of your questions like he could read your mind. You were confused, your heart (and your vagina) wanted to say yes but your head told you to refuse. 

‘Fuck it, stop thinking.’

“Okay, let’s do it.” Chris stayed silent, only your synced breaths could be heard in the room. The tension was thick and full of desire.

“Can I kiss you, pretty girl? Just a kiss and you can stop me anytime you want.”

“Yes, please.” With that Chris  pulled you in his lap in mere seconds and attached your lips together. He wasted no time and pushed his tongue in your mouth, still his movements were gentle and slow just like yours were slow and hesitant. His whole persona dripped in gentle dominance, it made you hot and sweat and made your pussy throb. His hands roamed your body and tentatively groped around, testing your limits. Your lips moved more and more confidently the more time they were attached to Chan’s.

Your lungs burned from the lack of air but you didn’t care, you were drunk on his touch, his taste, you were drunk on him.

Chan was the first to break the kiss and immediately giggled when you tried to kiss him again.

“Patience baby, we have a lot of time.”

Taglist:

@kflixnet  @hann1bee  @bahng-chrizz  @staysinbloom  @laylasbunbunny @caitlyn98s

[nemesis-writer]

Training Wheels

Masterlist TW: neglect, but mostly fluff

Ridin' down, ridin' down My hand on your seat the whole way round I carry Band-Aids on me now For when your soft hands hit the jagged ground Wheels aren't even touchin' the ground Scared to take them off, but they're so worn down Promise I won't push you straight to the dirt If you promise me you'll take them off first

'Come on Jon, hurry up we're almost there.'

You remember the time when you first saw Jon when he was playing games with Damian. Let's face it, you were downright in love with him, you didn't really knew how to deal with it since you've been deprived of that since birth.

You've always thought of him as a night in shining armor. He'd always bring you gifts in your birthday, sometimes give you books to read when you're bored. But it was satisfying for now.

I love everything you do When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do Wanna ride my bike with you Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you And I'll pull them off for you I love everything you do When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do Wanna ride my bike with you Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you And I'll pull them off for you

There's no doubt in the world that you love him. You'd laugh together, sometimes take you to the movies, and even invite you to his farm for lunch during recess. But you, you loved him, you wanted to stick with him forever and didn't want anyone to ruin the moment.

Some might say you're stupid for relying on a boy who is friends with the very people who've neglected and abandoned you. But no one can stand on the way of love right?

Lettin' go, lettin' go Tellin' you things you already know I explode, I explode Askin' you where you want us to go You've been ridin' two-wheelers all your life It's not like I'm askin' to be your wife I wanna make you mine, but that's hard to say Is this comin' off in a cheesy way?

You loved the fact that he is dating you, but you'd never know if he felt the same way. So far in your relationship it's based on wishful thinking. Who's to judge a now-legal adult for being in a relationship with a person she's been head over heels for?

But what you didn't know was that Jon truly love you and cherish your memories together. He even has his own job where he can afford a 10 karat princess-cut sapphire ring. (Also thanks from stealing Conner's money.) He prepared your guys future together as parents, while you were prepared to let him go with the assumption that he doesn't love you.

I love everything you do When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do Wanna ride my bike with you Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you And I'll pull them off for you I love everything you do When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do Wanna ride my bike with you Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you And I'll pull them off for you

You'd be surprised with how much he has prepared for your future together.

Damian, on the other hand, paid no mind to you, and failed to notice Jon's past attempts into dating you. He remains completely oblivious to the fact that his best friend is dating the girl that no one would bat an eye for.

10 years later...

Your wedding was completely peaceful since it was held in a small chapel in Metropolis. Only the Kents including Alfred and some trusted friends were invited to the party. And by trusted friends you meant the whole damn Justice League without the bats.

'I Y/N take Jon as my lawfully wedded husband to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part'

'I Jon take Y/N as my lawfully wedded wife to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part'

Cheers could be heard even from outside the chapel. But the bats never truly knew why the whole League didn't attend the meeting and instead called in sick, out of planet, or family issues.

It was only until they saw in the news:

'MS, or should I say MRS WAYNE KENT JUST GOT MARRIED AND THE WHOLE WAYNE FAMILY DIDN'T ATTEND!'

A/N: this was actually one of my favorites of Crybaby

Taglist

@lunayaps, @not-aya, @iluvcatzz, @vanessa-boo, @ivyrose9194,@thesehandsarerated-e, @eyeless-kun, @errorunfound1, @gwyneveire

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi Miss Raven! I was reading your opinions about Leona and wanted to ask you, do you think Leona would be a better king than Falena?

[Referencing this post!]

Put simply, no--but not for the reasons you're probably thinking. Hey now, hold on! Put down your pitchforks and torches! Please at least hear what I have to say and consider it.

It's not that I think that Leona is incompetent or that I think Falena is sufficient as a king. It's that ruling (especially as a monarch that has a LOT of power and control) is very nuanced and to say that one person would be "better" than another is grossly glossing over all that goes into governance.

This post gets quite long, so I've placed all my thoughts under the cut. Again, I ask that you read the whole post before commenting.

First of all, the baseline we're comparing to is Falena so let's review what we know about him that's relevant to this discussion. Leona describes Falena as someone who has a "carefree attitude". Because of this, Leona worries that Falena will "run [their] kingdom into the ground." Now something I want to make clear: "[running their] kingdom into the ground" is very harsh wording used ONLY in EN. In JP, Leona is much more casual with his phrasing. He simply expresses that he is "worried about the country's future", not that he thinks Falena will ruin it:

In the book 2 post-OB flashback sequence, Leona implies that his older brother can sing and nap but still be guaranteed the crown because of Falena being first-born. Falena is noted as holding a ceremony in honor of his son's birth; he had commissioned for a fountain to be built (even though water is a scarce resource in their land) and unveiled in their capital—an occasion which Leona skipped. He refers to the ceremony as a "self-indulgent party where you show off your son to the people." This characterizes Falena as a jovial and excessive person who doesn't think too deeply about policies. Another example of this comes from Leona's Birthday Boy vignettes, in which Falena sends his younger brother an expensive rug. "In the time he spends sending me gifts I don't even want, he could be sending rugs to neighboring lands and bolstering our foreign relations," Leona says. "Of course, the thought never even crosses his mind." One of the Sunset Savnna’s driving philosophies is “hakuna matata”, which, as Leona describes it, means, “don’t think too hard about things”. And indeed, if Falena is anything like how Leona says he is, then he is the walking embodiment of their country and their beliefs.

One major issue that is unique to their homeland is that of unification. The Sunset Savanna boasts many different kinds of beastmen, each with their own customs and cultures--and because of that, these beastmen tend to live in settlements of just their own kind and don't always get along or see eye-to-eye with others. For example, it is said that very few bird beastmen reside in the capital city and Ruggie has implied that hyenas are low in the social hierarchy. Kifaji, the grand chamberlain, confides that the acting king Falena has struggled with this unification. The Kingscholars' father has communicated that he would like for nothing more than Leona to lend his assistance to Falena for this endeavor. (Keep this in mind, as I will be touching upon this again later!)

What I think many people tend to overlook when it comes to Falena's rule is that he has not been in power for a long time. According to Tamashina Mina, Falena has only been running the country for "the last few years", which is NOT that long. Falena has not even had that much experience as the official head of state to begin with--and yeah, you could argue that he has been preparing his whole life to eventually become the ruler, training for it and actually doing it are very different beasts. No amount of tutoring will prepare you for having the weight of an entire nation suddenly on your shoulders. I would also argue that anyone that is new to a job won't do the best right away and that experience is the best teacher. Falena is likely still learning while on the job and trying to do his best while also juggling being a parent and husband, trying to reach across the aisle to his estranged younger brother, and looking after his ill father.

This leads me to another point: a lot of what we hear about Falena is coming from Leona's perspective, which is very biased (especially in the post-OB flashback, as this was when Leona was at his most bitter). We should be aware of this while taking in the information Leona is offering. I don't doubt that Leona's telling the truth about how his brother is carefree or the things his brother has done, but at the same time we need to realize that this is a limited view of Falena. It's not the whole picture of who he is. Leona tends to focus on his brother's shortcomings and downfalls--but thinking about it, what are Falena's strengths?

Well, one of them is definitely that Falena is friendly, kind-hearted, and honest. Even Leona confesses to this. However, he frames these traits in a negative way, stating that "[Falena] could just focus on the kingdom's affairs--you know, his JOB--but nooo, he's gotta be the caring big brother who's nice to everybody," and, of his honesty, "he just makes things harder for himself." Falena also seems to be positive and insightful--admirable qualities in a leader. When Leona speaks rudely to him, Falena tries to reassure his little brother: "You may never become king, but you are still wise. There is much you could do for this country." He even pursues Leona when he leaves, trying to get his little brother to see reason. Falena sees the potential in Leona and he wants Leona to realize that potential too. If you look at this another way, this personality can be a boon. It could make it easier for Falena to smooth over tensions and get other political figures to open up to him, similar to how Kalim’s empathy helps to uplift and support his dorm mates and how those dorm mates in return give him their loyalty.

Finally, we know that Falena is cognizant of the culture and the values of the Sunset Savanna and likely works in accordance with those. If we revisit Tamashina Mina, Leona talks at length about how some areas of the country are so underdeveloped that its people are still drinking rainwater or from wells. He laments the situation and says that if only they improved their infrastructure and mined the valuable ore their country has, the people would be able to live better lives. Leona here leans pro-industrialization. From the lack of industrialization we see in large parts of the country, we can assume that Falena does not have this same stance. Rather, Falena understands that the people of the Sunset Savanna cherish living in harmony with nature and want to honor their animal ancestors by living in a way that is sustainable He KNOWS that their people would be against industrialization, and so he favors slower development (Sunrise City being one of these metropolises that developed under the rule of their father) and in ways which preserve nature. As Lilia puts it, “Developing is easy. You just throw money at it. But building a city like this, while still preserving nature? That’s the real challenge, I’d say.” (That was a very quick summary but if you're interested in reading more about this topic specifically, I'd recommend this post!)

Falena cares about tradition and upholding it, and there isn’t inherently an issue with that. He values where he comes from and the practices that come with that. That’s why Falena gets upset with Leona for not doing his duties and skipping out on important meetings. It’s not purely that Falena sees these acts as disrespectful (although let’s be clear, it is disrespectful), but it also comes with the sadness of knowing that his younger brother doesn’t see the value in the same things he does—yet he still understands that Leona has his own strengths that be brings to the table.

You can see how this could translate into his ruling style too, even if it is not explicitly stated in the game. Falena is someone who is easy to approach with your problems (let's assume that this is the case both for his own people and for diplomats of other countries). He is someone who cares about tending to everyone, which would make him popular with the public--but that means he may spread himself or their resources too thin. Falena is also for slower progress in order to respect the ways of their culture and their people's values. He sees value in hearing others out and working in teams, even pleads with Leona to join his bureaucracy. But the point is, Falena cares, and all Leona sees in that is a bleeding heart since it doesn't produce what Leona thinks are good results.

And speaking of Leona, it's about time we get to him. What are his qualifications in a situation where he was king? What would his ruling style be like, and who would it serve his country?

Firstly, it's worthwhile to compare Leona's thinking to Falena's. Unlike his older brother, Leona is proactive--he plans ahead and considers the political power in something as simple as gifting an item. Many of the ideas he proposes for bettering his country are things that Falena either never thought of (ie gifting the rug to another country instead of to him; Falena sees spelldrive/magift as a national sport but Leona thinks they can drive up tourism with an elite team for the world league) or would refuse to implement out of principle (speedrunning mining operations). However, it's undeniable that Leona's methods would produce results. As he demonstrates to us with his shady tactics in books 2 and 3, it does not matter to Leona what he has to do in order to achieve what he desires. His eyes are set on the goal, not on how he gets there (though he will plan the steps out meticulously as well). He's willing to tear up the environment if it means enriching the Sunset Savanna's economy and providing clean, consistent drinking water for the citizens. It's ultimately gains, but it jeopardizes maintaining harmony with nature. This would earn him genuine ire from his people (and honestly, disliking someone for blatantly disregarding your beliefs is valid; it's not blindly being petty or hating Leona for being the "lowly second born"). But!! Leona as of book 7 says he is going to intern at a mining and energy lab in his home country. This implies that he is willing to learn about the field and may use that knowledge to enact sustainable change. This is a really good start to his development and growth into a wise leader.

The brothers' personalities are also not alike at all. Leona is... admittedly far more abrasive that Falena. I'm not saying that Leona would behave so rudely to politicians or on a global stage (please, the man has more tact than that), but he would carry himself very differently than Falena. Leona can be polite and speak fancily all he wants, but he still does not have that same approachable warmth to him. Something else we should consider is that... well, Leona doesn't like stuffy occasions or putting on airs, which would basically be expected of him as king. We don't know for sure how he would act if the circumstances ask that he be cordial and yet the man himself detests such a thing. He could play the part if needed, sure. But for how long before he becomes annoyed or tired of it? Leona can also be arrogant and demanding. Do you think he would skip/sleep through meetings with advisors he deems irrelevant or unproductive? (Recall how he skips ceremonies and traditions he deems unimportant or boring, like the celebration of Cheka’s birth and tries to cheat his way out of his responsibilities as Captain of the Sunset Warriors. He also skips classes, deeming school largely unnecessary for him because he thinks he already knows everything.) How do you think he'd act with people who oppose him? Would he defy traditions? He also disregards the “hakuna matata” mantra and cynically labels it “self-serving”. I could see how tensions could rise as a result. (Reminder that I'm not saying it's for CERTAIN that Leona would do these things, I'm just posing possibilities based on what I understand of his character and whether you believe Leona would act like this or not is up to you.) Leona is 10 years younger than Falena and has never formally served in a governmental position. This means that he, too, lacks the political experience to be king. Some would say that where Leona makes up for this is in life experiences. He has been downtrodden and defeated, mingled among the common folk, etc. This means Leona is better equipped to understand the plight of his people, they argue. And I can see where people are coming from--but personally, I think Leona still lacks what he needs to be a "better" ruler. Yes, Leona has lived "out there", but the fact remains that Falena still has 10 years on him. What's more is that Leona has not actually strayed that far from his privileged life. He's dorm leader (a position of power within NRC), attends an elite magic school, and constantly has Ruggie taking care of him. I don't think this really prepares him to rule a whole country.

That's a good segway into Leona and his leadership. As I've mentioned before, Falena is having trouble with enacting national policies to unite all beastmen. Leona does not appear to have the same issue, as even though there is a variety of beastmen within Savanaclaw, they all defer to Leona the same. Therefore, Leona, as king, could easily resolve this problem in the Sunset Savanna--so the theory goes. As for me, well... In my opinion, I do think it's a show of skill that Leona can get many different beastmen rallying under his flag but I don't think this generalizes to (again) the scale of an entire nation. Not only do we have to account for WAY more people, but also people of demographics that differ wildly from Savanaclaw. The mobs under Leona follow him, yes--but thinking about it, they're all VERY similar demographics-wise. They're roughly the same age, all male, all students, and have the same goals in mind (for book 2, it was to be noticed by talent scouts). I would bet that most of them are from middle class or upper-class incomes too. Now expand the scope to a country. Do you think Leona could appeal to young and old? Male and female? Rich and poor? People of all occupations? What about parents? There are so many other factors to account for, so I don't think it's fair to generalize Leona leading a dorm of maybe 85ish (this is just a guess; NRC has ~800 total students, 600 are on-campus and split across 7 dorms so this assumes equal splitting) to a diverse kingdom of thousands. We also have to consider that the rules that govern NRC don’t translate to the real world. At NRC, power and individualism is what is valued—both of which Leona has in spades. Are those same things valued in his kingdom? No, be is feared for his power and can’t realistically accomplish the things he wants to on his own.

I want to point out another glaring weakness of Leona's: because of his pride, he has trouble sharing power. While Falena is okay with working with others, Leona hates to be challenged. He doesn't have a vice dorm leader because he doesn't want to butt heads with someone else about how to rule. He shuts down Epel, who asks him about strength training and tells him to focus on speed instead, because that's what Leona sees as Epel's best asset. He scoffs at the idea of listening to individual complaints and thinks there would be a more efficient way of handling them. Leona generally lacks his brother's empathy and would rather maximize efficiency by allowing himself to be the only one calling the shots. We get a glimpse of Leona relinquishing his power as dorm leader to Ruggie in book 6, but that's only because Leona physically cannot be present to rule. This could be an exception, or just the first step in Leona shifting to adapt to working in a team.

If Falena were to abdicate the throne to Leona right this second, no, I don't think Leona would be fit to be king. Leona's ideas seem "good" on a surface level, but that's ignoring the long-term impacts and his less-than-stellar personality quirks. He has a ton that he has to learn before he can comfortably govern. At the same time, Falena isn't exactly a perfect ruler either. He, too, lacks experience and can be short-sighted and naive in spite of his good intentions and willingness to hear everyone out.

In an AU where Leona was actually the crown prince (and thus never got talked down to or treated like the “lesser” second born), maybe things would be different. But then that creates the same issue with Falena (now the scorned younger prince) being the "Leona" of the AU.

Each Kingscholar brother has his own strengths and weaknesses, perspectives, and leadership styles. THIS DOES NOT MAKE ONE SUPERIOR OR "BETTER" THAN THE OTHER. Instead, they make up for one another's deficits or flaws, creating a more well-rounded and unified view. This is, perhaps, why both Falena and their father want Leona to step in and help with ruling the country. I think they all see the benefit that Leona could provide and that they value his thoughts.

The "best" situation for the Sunset Savanna, in my opinion, would be Leona and Falena working together to see the country's future through. It does not have to be in the capacity of king and advisor; titles do not matter here. What is most important is that Leona and Falena can meet on neutral grounds and agree to put their all into improving the Sunset Savanna.

[call-me-copycat]

hey, can I ask the reader to be Aizawa's daughter, but she lives with her mother in another country, so when the reader gets into a fight, her mother sends her to live with Aizawa, but she forgets to tell him, so y/ n arrives and says "hey dad, surprise?"

Hi! Thank you so much for requesting! Sorry for the delay, I've been very busy with school and work (˶> <˶) Hope this is what you wanted!

A Runaway's Hope

➤ Welcome - Introduction and Request Rules

▶ Characters: Aizawa x Daughter Reader (platonic)

▶ Genre: Fluff, maybe some comfort mixed in

▶ Summary: The ask sums it up

▶ Word Count: 2746

▶ Warnings: None :⁠-⁠)

You don't even remember what the fight was about.

The quiet rushing of cooled air and the machinery of the train helped to lull the negative thoughts away, the bright lights hitting your face every time you passed a station.

All you remember was...

"You can't live here anymore! I can't put up with this any longer!"

Your mother... She and you didn't get along too well. She was too distant for you, and you could never seem to get along, despite the numerous efforts made by both parties.

Constant fights were normal. Not talking for long periods of time was normal. But you knew you both were wearing thin. That's why you jumped at the chance when she said she'd be sending you to live with your father instead, with hopes that it'd turn out better than the current way it was with her.

You hardly knew the man. You'd seen a few photos, spoke on the phone a few times. That was all you had.

Was it a risk? To jump so fast to live with what was practically a stranger? Very much so. But you'd take it, anything to get away from the constant arguments.

The intercom crackled to life, calling your station. With a sigh you rose, awkwardly lugging your single suitcase and heaving your backpack onto your shoulder.

The night was sparkling with life. You had never been over to Musutafu, having lived in the more rural parts of Japan your whole life. Back there, people would shut off lights and be in bed by 9 or 10 if they weren't working. You rarely saw anyone out past that.

So to see such a large city, bustling with so much life despite the dark... It was mesmerizing.

You lugged yourself to a less crowded part of the station, pulling out an address shakily scribbled on a piece of paper - despite owning a functioning phone. Reading it to yourself once more as if you didn't already have it memorized, you folded it and put it back in your coat pocket. This was it. You were in the city, now all you had to do was find the place.

As you walked up the steps and out in fresh air, you suddenly felt like a child again. No home, no support, all by your lonesome. Stuck and helpless...

You clenched your fist. You got this far, you couldn't go back. It had a chance of working out.

With that thought, you found a taxi (despite how expensive it was) and rode out to the apartment complex. The cab was cool and quiet, reminding you of the train you took to get there.

Once there, you stood out on the sidewalk, holding up a picture you had to compare to the building. You felt your heart beat faster, the blood in your body warming and filling you with adrenaline.

This was it.

The very building you had heard of but never visited, the place that housed a person you had never officially met in person...

All you had to do was go up and...

And-

You mentally slapped yourself. You hadn't even bothered to call! You didn't even send a note or something! You had simply up and left in the moment!

Panic flared in your chest as your surroundings began to spin. You hadn't even let him know you were coming. What if he didn't want anything to do with you?! What would he do? Throw you out?!

Inhaling deeply and exhaling similarly, you attempted to calm yourself. Worst case scenario, he could give you some money to travel back, and you could just grovel for your mother to give you a place to live.

A shudder passed through you. You'd rather it not come to that, but you couldn't exactly be too picky. You were currently homeless, after all.

What else was there to do, besides dragging you and your suitcase up the steps to the building, and then even further until you were on the third floor of the apartment, until you were standing in front of his door. Finally, you held up your hand to knock.

Nothing.

You knocked once more.

Nothing again.

You waited about five minutes before trying again. Then ten minutes before knocking once more. Then again.

Finally, once thirty minutes passed by, you began to panic once more.

'No, no... What if he's... Out getting groceries or something?'

The thought wasn't the brightest, but it was something. That's at least what you told yourself. Finally, after an hour of waiting, you slowly trotted down the steps, nowhere to go. The people passing by reminded you that they had places to be, while you didn't. It felt suffocating.

Before you reached the bottom, an older man who was watering some plants noticed you. Looking over at him, you saw he had greying hair and was wearing a cardigan, along with a bandana placed oddly low on his head, close to his eyes.

Approaching him, he gave a little wave. "We don't usually see that many this late at night," he joked, as if he had known you for a long while.

"Ah, about that..." You suddenly felt a rising acknowledgement about your situation, feeling oddly embarrassed at your impulsive actions. "I'm here to see my father, but he doesn't seem to be home at the moment"

The man looked over without saying anything, smiling tiredly while he watered the plants, only making you feel even more awkward than before as you debated whether you should stay or not.

"Sorry if I seem suspicious, but we get that a lot from nosy intruders trying to bother our residents here - especially since we house a few heroes." The man let out a little chuckle as if he hadn't just said he suspected you of lying. Although, you could understand his sentiment.

"You said 'our residents', are you the owner here?" You asked, not expecting this man of all people to be someone responsible for the entire building.

"That I am" He responded kindly.

You stood bewildered. The owner! Maybe he could help you... You just had to get some proof. Quickly, you scrambled to pop open your backpack, looking for a certain photo book. You didn't have any photos with your father past birth, but you did have a photo of him holding you as a baby. Just one.

The man stood to the side, tiredly watering the plants with an old hose, a stark contrast to the panicked movements of you right next to him.

Finding the photo and pulling it out, you showed the man. It was a photo of your father holding you just as you were born, with his sole focus on you instead of the camera. He was much younger back then, and you didn't know what he would look like in current times.

The man looked over the photo once before shrugging his shoulders.

"I believe you, I already did from the beginning. Cute photo though."

You stood there with the photo still in your hand. What was with this guy?!

"Your father is Shota? Is that right?" He looked over at you with an expression of interest compared to the tired smile he wore earlier. "He never said anything about having a kid."

You nodded, "We don't really talk that much... Do you know where he is by the way?"

The man stopped looking at the water flowing out of the hose and went to look up at the stars instead, moving one hand to his pocket and exhaling a heavy breath.

"You won't find him here right now, unfortunately"

"Why? Is he busy?"

The man shrugged once again, slow as molasses, though clearly smarter than he was letting on.

"You could say that"

Talking to him was a struggle, really. He only let out answers to questions explicitly asked, and you felt as though you weren't getting anywhere.

"Can you please explain?"

He chuckled at your exasperated tone, finally giving a suitable explanation.

"He's almost never around. He works at night. Probably sleeps for a bit, then he works during the day. Sometimes I don't see him for days at a time just because he sleeps elsewhere," He sighed once more, looking back at the plants in the little garden. "He needs to take better care of himself, that Shouta.. "

You couldn't believe it. Days at a time? You didn't have days, besides what if you couldn't catch him during the small amount of time he was actually there?

Another thought dawned on you. If he was so busy all the time, would he even have time for you? You stood quietly, pondering what you would do.

"Maybe try waiting by his door for a bit? Tomorrow's a weekday, so he'd have to show up to get ready to go to his day job"

You could only nod sullenly and take the man's advice. He gave you a few snacks to keep yourself busy while you walked back up the stairs, eventually planting yourself in front of his door to wait it out.

The view from the third floor wasn't so bad at least. You could see the lights of the lower buildings twinkling in the back, and since the area was quieter than the rest of the town, you felt as though you could think a little clearer.

After a couple hours, the landlord from before came back with a blanket and more snacks (which you just packaged to save for later), and soon enough you were out like a light.

-

A soft nudge to your side caused you to groan, and the sharper one that followed it caused your eyes to fly open, rubbing the tender area on your ribs. Looking up to see who caused it, your eyes widened as you saw exactly who you were looking for.

"Mind explaining why you're sleeping in front of my door? I'd also like to know why you're here, on the opposite side of Japan, as well."

Giving him a once over, you didn't expect your father to look so... Worn down. Raggedy, you'd call it. His hair was unkempt and fell in front of his face, and his eyes held dark bags underneath them, the eyes themselves being red and irritated. In addition, he was still wearing his hero outfit from patrol, with him just wanting to head in, get a few minutes of rest, then clean up before heading to UA. You tried to ignore the small spatter of red on his scarf.

"I..." Quickly standing up, you brushed yourself off and tried to make yourself look as presentable as possible (at least for someone who just woke up from sleeping outside all night).

Clearing your throat, you tried explaining yourself, "I... I'm sorry for the sudden request but..."

He looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

"I was wondering if I could live with you?"

Getting it all out at once was what your decided was the best you could do. At least it'd get rejection out of the way.

He wiped his eyes, the irritation of dry eye making him want to be inside even further. He was covered with grime from patrol, hadn't eaten all night (wondering if you didn't either), and was exhausted.

"Look... There's a lot going on right now, but you can just come inside with me so we can discuss it there," he explained, fishing out his keys before opening the door and letting you in first.

The place was rather empty. Clean, but empty. It was small too. You started questioning yourself once more at the sight. The walls were bare, the furniture being the bare essentials (like a couch and a table with a chair), and it definitely showed he wasn't there a whole lot.

"Sit wherever you'd like. I'm going to get changed and then we can work something out."

You sat on the couch due to it being closest, fearing he'd send you back sooner if he thought of you as a nuisance.

Truth be told, Aizawa was feeling as though he was hallucinating. Coming home exhausted from work and seeing his daughter sleeping outside of his door made him think he had really lost it. His daughter, that he had never seen in person other than photos every now and then, and who was supposed to live across Japan.

He didn't know what to do for once. He couldn't send you back, that'd be cruel. He knew you and your mother didn't get along, but that was all he knew. He didn't think it'd get this bad, though.

He could understand your perspective, at least. He himself didn't have the best relationship with his own mother, having moved out when he barely turned eighteen and having to survive off of cup noodles and a single lightbulb for months on end. He didn't want you to go through the same struggles.

Still, he didn't know if he had the time. The last thing Aizawa wanted to do was to ignore you and your needs.

Wrapping his scarf up and tossing it on his bed (instead of the special rack on the wall that it was intended for), he decided he'd have to make changes to his schedule then, so he could take care of you without being too busy.

Back in the living room, you clutched your backpack to your chest, fearing where this would take you.

Once Aizawa stepped into the room, you immediately put your attention on him, ready to beg for a place to stay. You noticed he changed into something more casual, being just a long sleeve shirt and joggers, with his hair tied up.

He stood in front of you with his hands in his pockets, giving you a once over. He could see the way you tensed up. The way you were ready for a yelling match. He'd definitely not be sending you back.

Instead, Aizawa surprised you by holding his arms open. Sensing your confusion, he directed you.

"I haven't seen my daughter since she was born, you couldn't at least give me a hug?"

He almost chuckled at the sight of your eyes getting wider, wrapping his arms around you when you came up to him. He wasn't the most outwardly affectionate man, but his colleagues and students were making him softer by the day.

You stayed in place for a solid minute, enjoying the warmth which helped to ease your tension that had been built up all night long.

"You can stay with me, but since you failed to communicate this to me earlier I'm going to need time to prepare"

You nodded, smiling as fatigue overtook you once more.

"Does this mean I'm living with you now?"

Aizawa smiled softly. "It does." Looking out of the barely rising sun in the window, he breathed out of his nose. If only he had more time to discuss and get things ready.

Ever since you were small, he cherished every photo and phone call sent his way. He looked forward to it, your voice or smiling face being the only thing keeping him going some nights. So to have you in person, he was elated. Frustrated with the lack of communication, yes, but overall it wasn't the worst thing that could've happened.

Seeing your eyes closing on you once more, he frowned. It wouldn't hurt to take a day off work.

"C'mon, let's get you into a pair of pajamas or something so you can sleep properly," looking over to you tiredly rummaging through your suitcase, he remembered his earlier thought. "Let's also get some food in you as well"

As you brushed your teeth while the sun began to rise, Aizawa pulled out a plate to prepare some food. Out of habit he pulled only the one. Reopening the cabinet, he brought out another. Looking at the two dishes, he smiled. It was nice not being alone for once. If you weren't there, he'd have slept with his hero outfit on, popped a jelly packet, and then headed off to work at UA.

Maybe taking care of you would also teach him to learn how to take care of himself.

Seeing you walk in the kitchen in your sleepwear and toothbrush still in your mouth, Aizawa's look softened.

It definitely wouldn't hurt to call off work today.

I hope you enjoyed! This one was a bit shorter than normal, so I apologize for that! I wish you a lovely day! ( ͜♡･ω･) ͜♡

[callmegaith]

I want to know more about your rebels. From the art I've seen, they look very interesting. Tell me more!

ANON 😭😭 THATS SO SWEET OF YOU THANK U SM!!

Well, there are 4 characters that make up a squad. You have:

Pete:

The muscle of the group. He's a hot-head with a shotgun. Pete is the character I use to explore the world of HL the most, since he's the one character I can truly call an oc. He used to be a bit of a scardy cat growing up but when the war happened, being isolated and removed from his family and being forced to work for the combine, his fear turned to anger, and he's got A LOT of it. A bit too much, in fact. The moment they put a gun in his hands and he's had a little bit of that power trip taste, it was over. He no longer had a reason to feel helpless and be scared of the combine, now with his trusty shotgun, he could get up close and personal and make them go bye bye, which he probably likes an unhealthy amount. In his head, though, he thinks it's fine. He's fighting for the good guys, after all. He's doing the right thing. So his violence is justified. And that's sorta the central plot of his character "when do you become the same monster as the ones that hurt you?" Hurt people hurt people, and Pete has been hurt a lot. Though, he believes he's different because unlike the Combine, he loves and cares. The combine wouldn't know what that means, so in a way, his love for Nate and humanity in general, is what he believes keeps him from becoming as bad as the Combine.

Nate:

Nate is the youngest in the squad and the most naive. All he wants to do, really, is survive this whole thing. He just wants to see the sunrise on a brand new day where the Combine no longer exist on earth. He's pretty optimistic about it too which Pete and Marcel often disagree with but ya know, let the man dream. He's the chill laid back joker of the group and the life of the party. The most social out of them but not necessarily the best talker... And he talks... A lot. Like, nonstop. Marcel thinks it's because he's constantly trying to fill his mind with other stuff other than their shitty situation cuz the moment he shuts up he's gonna have to think about it and he's going to collapse. So they just let him ramble. He's a big fan of collecting things (both he and Pete are but he started their collection) some might even view him as a hoarder. Like you'd find him collecting pizza boxes and other useless things simply because... Well, those things don't exist now. They're "relics" of a life pre-war. And he finds that interesting, it brings him comfort even. He's the group's mechanic and the best at handling firearm since he's had the most training, having joined the Rebels before the others.

Marcel and Kit:

2 for one, those two cannot be separated (for Marcel's own good)

Marcel is the medic of the group. He's the oldest in the squad and the most pessimistic. Kit met Marcel when he found him dying on the ground (that's a comic you may or may not have read. I'll link the comics at the end of the ask) after saving his life, the two became inseparable. Marcel is in a very dark place mentally and thus has become extremely fragile. If you ask him, he'd tell you he's not suicidal, he just wouldn't mind not waking up the next day. Kit keeps Marcel safe, both from the Combine, zombies, and whatever threats, but also from himself. Kit wants to give Marcel purpose and a reason to keep living, something to make the days easier to get through, and becoming a medic was that for Marcel. He gets to save lives and it gives him a sense of meaning. It doesn't make him value his own life or anything, but he's at least living to do something good.

Marcel might come off as hostile and aggressive or just very uncaring but, in fact, he cares a lot. You just have to get past his nonchalantness and dig pretty deep to find that part of him. Kit understands he's probably just building walls to protect himself. He doesn't want anyone getting close so no one would miss him when he's gone. But obviously that doesn't work cuz, lmao, Kit ignores that. Tbh Kit doesn't need to bind life force with Marcel to die if Marcel dies. If Marcel dies Kit will likely just die of a broken heart.

That aside, Marcel finds Kit's views on life very intriguing, he's very interested in the Vort philosophical approach to life and death, and the way they form bonds, more spiritually than anything else. And he does end up having that bond with Kit, something so connected to what feels like a greater and higher thing than they are. So cosmic in its nature that it is hard to comprehend. To him, there's something so beautiful and profound about that. It's the idea that one day they will be embraced by that greater thing, so they may become a part of it, but it will happen when their time comes and they're called upon by the cosmos. He's just waiting for that day to come now.

If you'd like to see more of the characters you'll find everything under the tag (HL: change begins with us) or specific characters under: ( oc: Pete, Nate as male 07, Marcel as male 09, kit the Vortigaunt)

If you haven't seen the comics and wanna give em a read:

This is one lore dump and a half but hope you find it interesting, anon. :D again, thank u sm for your interest and curiosity. It means a lot to me!!

[freshbakedbreadstick]

No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter Eight

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Jerimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Summary: Forgiveness is earned, not given. And you were prepared to do whatever it takes to earn it, even if it means groveling for the rest of your life. 

Warnings:  All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of death, grief, angst, strained relationships, arguments, details of anxiety/panic attacks, bad coping mechanisms, mental health issues, running away, addiction, al-anon.  

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: BESTIES ! ! ! i AM BACK FROM THE DEADDDDDD ! ! ! Unfortunately, i became an academic victim instead of an academic weapon this past year . Currently suffering thru a stress induced cold too LOL love that 4 me . ut the year is over n finals r done so ill be continuing this ! ! ! ! Anywaysssss only two chapters left of this series </3 breaks my heart low-key LOL I really enjoyed writing this whole thing, it was fascinating putting the emotions into this whole thing ! Quite the experience, I tell ya ! but anywayssss have a slay day ! 

Taglist: @marysucks-blog @shinebright2000 @jadeittic @eternallyvenus @jackierose902109 (i apologize if i missed anyone new or previous!! please let me know if you were missed/wanna be added <3)

Masterlist

The tears wouldn’t stop bubbling over, leaving stains of sea salt on your cheeks that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times you rubbed it with the back of your hand. At this point, your skin was raw from your scrubbing. But no matter what you did, they just wouldn’t go away.

The Al-Anon meeting had since been adjourned and slowly but surely people were shuffling out of their seats and either to the snack table for a quick swipe of donuts and coffee or straight to the door out of there. But here you were, scrubbing away fat tears that continued to roll down your cheeks, staring straight at the back of the head of a person you didn’t really know if you wanted to face at that moment. 

A particularly watery group of tears clouded your vision, making you wince and snap your eyes shut before bringing both your hands up to viciously scrub them away, taking your vision from the head whom you were trained on. As you scrubbed, feeling your eyes burn and vision turn into a kaleidoscope of colors, you failed to notice the sound of someone getting up and rapidly approaching you until it was too late.

A strong hand gripped your forearm and jerked you up from your seat, making you yelp and snap your eyes open again. They stung from the sudden sunlight invading your vision, but you blinked it away, instead focusing on the person with a calloused grip dragging you out of the room with a rush that made those still sticking around gasp and glance in your direction. 

You barely managed to hold yourself and your stuff together when you realized you were out the door of the room and back into the empty hallway. Carmy dropped his grip with an expression on his face that you couldn’t read at all. 

“Carmy-“ you began.

“Stop, stop, stop. Don’t start…. Not now….” 

Carmy sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking off and away from you. His shoulders started to sag, making him look so uncharacteristically… scared in front of you. 

He glanced back at you, watching your mouth open and close like a fish out of water as you kept trying to stop yourself from launching into some sort of explanation or apology. He continued to watch as you leaned against the wall, your body folding it on itself as your knees got weaker and weaker. All you did was stare at him with wide, watery eyes, trying so hard not to say anything. 

After some silence, Carmy looked away and spoke up, “You came.”

You swallowed the knot on your throat before nodding hesitantly.

He turned to look at you, blue eyes rimmed red. 

“Why.”

You opened your mouth, ready to launch into what you wanted to say, but Carmy threw his hand up to signal you to stop. With one hand on his hip, he looked at the floor and sighed again. 

“Why now? Is this an attempt for you to... to make it all better? Just like that? Listen, that might’ve worked on my brother but definitely not me.”

“No, I-“ 

“If you think of this as your form of retribution for everything, forget it. I don’t need your begging for forgiveness or your pity. I can’t… I can't just get over this, okay?”

“Carmy, I get that but-”

“But what? There are no amount of apologies or declarations of love for my brother in front of a group of strangers that will… that will change how i feel about this-”

“Carmy!”

He snapped his mouth shut.

With shaky legs, you stood up before him and made direct eye contact.

“I’m sorry.”

His adam's apple bobbed as he stared at you. 

You took in a shaky breath, “I’m not asking for anything, okay? I just… I want to say sorry. For stressing you out. For worrying everyone. For…. for leaving. I’m sorry.”

Then, Carmy did something you haven’t seen him do in a long, long time.

He cried. 

Tears spilled over his red rimmed baby blues, falling slowly, then faster and faster and faster.

With a choked breath, Carmy whispered out, “I needed you.”

“I needed you and you… you weren’t here. You ran. And I ran too.”

He shifted uncomfortably and looked away, but still whispered out his confession. 

“I was so… so fucking scared. I didn’t know what to do. But I knew that I needed you here. But you got scared too. So you ran. I…”

And with that, you began to sob.

You leaned against the wall, sobbing into your hands. You could barely hear his words over the echo of your cries, but you didn’t care. And you didn’t care when people came slowly out of the meeting room, casting glances in your direction before walking away to exit the building.

“I’m sorry. I… i’m taking it out on you. But you aren’t my brother. You're you. And I needed you in the same way you needed me. But…neither of us were here for each other like we promised.”

One thing you and Carmy always did during an infamous Berzatto family dinner was sneak out of the house and into the front yard, leaning against the garage door to share a cigarette.

Whether it was Donna’s yelling that drove Carmy out or Mikey’s constant erratic personality that got you feeling overwhelmed, you both somehow managed to take a second to go outside and catch a breath at the same time. 

So it became tradition to sneak out for 10 minutes before someone came looking for one or the other, to silently smoke and have a brief moment of peace.

Most of the time you were alone together, other times Natalie joined the two of you, usually just closing her eyes and leaning against the wall besides you, silent. 

By the 32nd informal Berzatto Family Sneak Out, as you two dubbed it, Carmy was opening up to you. He would tell you about how life has been treating him, his struggles, and general day to day things he enjoyed. You would do the same, providing him with his own mental escape just as he did for you.

Some days he would chatter on and on in a way you didn’t normally see him do. Other days it was silence. But regardless,you enjoyed his company regardless, as he did yours.

One Christmas, the two of you were shivering in the cold but still out there in scarves and sweaters regardless. 

“Shit,” you murmured and threw the cigarette down to stomp on it, foot sliding across the icy pavement.

You wobbled a bit, making Carmy snicker as you shot him a look.

“Hey uh, i got you a really cool present this year.” 

You glanced at him, rubbing your hands together, “Oh yea? Owning up for last year’s mistake?” 

Carmy rolled his eyes, “I swear i didn’t know you owned that sweater.”

You laughed, “I wore it during Thanksgiving!! It was right in front of you and you didn’t even notice!”

Carmy rolled his eyes and chuckled, rubbing the dark circles under them.

“Yea whatever, give me shit. But i promise this one will blow you away. I put a lot of thought into it, especially because it’s been a while since i’ve been down here…”

You hummed, looking off into the soft piles of snow glittering under the string lights, some red, others blue. 

“I missed you, you know…”

Carmy sighed, throwing his cigarette down and stomping on it. 

“I did too.”

You looked up at Carmy, smiling but no longer feeling your lips. He smiled back at you. 

“Promise me that we'll always have these little sneak outs, yea? It keeps me from going insane on your brother,” you said with a snort. 

He just chuckled, “Of course… I'll always be there for you if you’ll always be there for me… yea?”

He extended his hand out. You slapped your hand into his, shaking it with a playful grin. 

“Agreed.”

Someone calls your name from inside. Mikey’s booming voice echos from the house, loud and clear like a siren call within a turbulent sea. You whip your head to the front door and giggle, “Better get going, come on Berzatto. Maybe i’ll let you have my leftover christmas cookies if you sneak me an extra piece of that tiramisu you brought.”

With that, the two of walked back into the home for the rest of the night.

You can feel his hands gently grip your shoulders, helping you up from leaning against the cold wall into his arms. His muscular arms wrapping around you, the familiar scent of spices and sweat invading your nose; a scent so remarkably Carmy. 

“I’m sorry… I just really needed you… I needed you and i.. didn’t know how to ask…” He whispered into your neck, muffled. 

You sobbed, staining his shirt with tears but neither of you cared as you stood there, in the empty hallway as the setting sun streamed in through stray rays. 

By the time you separated from the hug, the hallway was a twilight blue. His rough hands reached up to your eyes, thumbing them away with a gentleness that made you want to cry again.

“I missed you.” you managed to say, after a long period of silence. 

“I missed you too…” he murmured, eyes droopy.

It was quiet and it felt… good. It felt good to stand there, staring at the lines on one another's' faces that showed the age and the years that you missed while apart. The stories they told you of each other, of how you drifted apart. But now they showed a different story. 

It felt good to be back.

“Hey uh, i have to get back… we have a, uh, bachelor’s party today…”

This made you snort, making Carmy crack a side smile. 

“A bachelor’s? At The Beef? Are you that broke?”

This made him chuckle softly, “Uh, yea…”

You shook your head with a small smile, “Well, I guess you better get going then. Everyone’s waiting on you, chef.”

Carmy looked to the floor, stepping away from you as he continued to smile, “Yes chef.”

You watched through as Carmy waved to you and your parents from the backseat of their car, your arms wrapped around yourself tightly. Your mom waved enthusiastically as your dad backed out, tires scratching on the gravel underneath you.

He got smaller and smaller as you all pulled away, making your way back home with a car full of hope. 

It was 6 in the morning when you got the call from Carmy.

You drove a little above the speed limit as you chewed on your bottom lip, eyes sweeping across the streets as your car lurched forward ahead of everyone else. The streets were slick from a light morning fog, rolling in with the cooler weather of fall and winter. But your skin was too hot to even realize how cold it was outside as you ran across the street from where you parked to The Beef. 

You threw the back door open, causing multiple people to throw their heads around to look at you. Ebraheim nodded in your direction and Tina smiled warmly. She glanced behind her before turning back to you, beckoning you in from your stiff stance in the doorway. 

You thanked her softly as you walked in, the chill from the air behind you making you shiver in your light sweatshirt and thin pants. 

You found Marcus in his corner, organizing diligently as Carmy walked away from his station and to Ebraheim’s, where he held up and complained about a sparkly black bra. You giggled as you watched them, getting Carmy’s attention.

He walked swiftly around the kitchen, signaling you to follow with a nod of his head. 

The two of you moved to stand in the door way leading to the front of the restaurant, watching Richie and Tina laugh before they turned, grabbing cleaning supplies. But when Richie turned and saw you, he briefly froze.

“Richie…” you said softly, crossing your arms across your chest with an arched brow. Carmy clued you in during the call, which is why you rushed here as soon as possible, worried sick about Richie.

“Hey uh…” he mumbled, sheepishly looking away from you as he scratched the back of his neck and avoided your gaze.

“Really? Jail?” you huffed.

“Come on, it was hardly even jail. I spent a night in holding, that’s it. Besides, i’ve done my penance… i’m a changed man. ” Richie said with a roll of his eyes and a choked laugh. 

You rolled your eyes, only to tense up when he asked his next question, “Why are you here?”

It wasn’t meant to be accusatory, just curious considering how the last conversation had ended here. But here you were, beside Carmy who didn’t seem very upset next to you. 

You looked away, clearing your throat softly, “Can we… can we talk in private about that…”

Richie visibly softened and glanced at Carmy before turning back to you, “Listen, you don't have to worry about-”

“No no no, just listen to me first, okay? Please… cousin?” 

This made Richie perk up and clear his throat, “Yea yea, come uh, come out back with me then..”

The two of you made your way to the backdoor, Carmy’s eyes trained on your backs right up until the door clicked shut behind you. 

“Listen Richie, I'm… I'm sorry. For… for everything. It’s…” you began, your throat drying up pretty soon after. 

Richie sighed, pacing away from you for a second as you struggled to swallow the lump in your throat. 

“Can i… say something…?” 

You looked at him, his back turned to you. But you heard him and the slight quiver in his throat loud and clear.

“I… it’s a secret so you have to promise not to tell anyone.” He said, laughing softly.

He slowly turned to you, showing the guilt and remorse all over his face that cleared that little moment of laughter right up. 

You nodded slowly, stepping forward toward him, “Yea, yea, of course….”

He hesitated, glancing up at you and analyzing every part of you for some form of dishonestly… but he found none. He only found the same eyes looking back at him, with trust glittering in them, like all those years ago. 

“Okay…” he began with a shaky breath, “I…”

You leaned forward some more, nodding softly. 

“I… I never once regretted loving Tiff.” 

Your eyes widened.

“She… was everything to me. I don’t regret loving her… even now…”

You could feel your heart racing in your ears. The way his eyes watered slightly as his hands shook at his side made your own eyes water. But his words, his words shook you up more than anything.

“I fucked up alot with her… you know that… and… and i don’t regret it either…”

Your bottom lip quivered. 

“I don’t think you should regret anything you did out of love for Mikey either… okay?”

You could only whimper, reaching forward to wrap your arms around him. He wound his arms around your own body, squeezing tightly as he did so, squishing you against him but neither of you cared. 

“So don’t apologize to me, okay? I know why you ran, and I don't blame you for it either.”

“....Thank you Richie… you're the greatest friend Mikey and I could ever have…”

Richie smiled softly, pressing a kiss to your hairline, “Of course, Mikey might… Mikey might not be here but I am. I’m here for you…”

“Thank you…” you tried desperately to hold back the tears.

The two of you held each other there, in the cool morning air until Richie cleared his throat and murmured, “So you and Carmy are good now? Or what the hell?”

You laughed, voice watery. 

“Listen, i thought you two would fight each other out here, honestly. Wrestle like you would as kids over the last goddamn pudding cup but uh, i guess not huh.”

“No…no. We uh, talked yesterday and it… it ended pretty good i think.” 

You stepped back with a sigh, brushing away a couple pesky tears, “You know Carmy, he’s not easy to forgive so I don't expect that talk to fix everything but i… I'm glad I finally grabbed the hand that was reaching out…”

Richie shook his head, “I don’t get how you two always were so buddy-buddy, you’re like exact opposites.”

You shrugged, “You don’t know Carmy like I did… like I do. We are a lot more similar than you might think.”

With that Richie chuckled and clapped his hands together, “Alright, no more slacking, we got a shit ton of prep today.”

The two of you wiped your tears away with small chuckles as you stared at one another’s puffy eyes and flushed faces, trying your best to not look like wrecks as you walked back inside with small smiles. 

The day went off without a hitch, until… the fire.

[valiantverses]

The Azrael Series: Chapter Two

(Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader Slowburn/Sort of Enemies to Friends to Lovers)

°°°°°

Summary: Task Force 141 is assigned a new member to deal with Makarov for good. Highly-skilled, brutally efficient and devastatingly competent, Ghost has met his match - and finds himself at odds with the SAS Fraternization Regulations as getting to know you makes him re-evaluate a life he never thought to allow himself.

CW: Canon-typical violence.

°°°°°

@beansproutmafia @chinuneko @agustdpeach @murder-hobo

Introduction 1 2

"We've not gotten much out of the drive m' afraid. We've got cyber forensics and analysts going over the files - far as Makarov's movements, we've got nothin' of note."

The briefing room's atmosphere was a degree short of despair. Papers strewn about, stale cups of coffee and tea haphazardly pushed to the side as Laswell's Toughbook blinked to life, showing the results of the hard won drive the 141 had retrieved a couple of days prior.

Ghost had opted to stand during the meeting, taking up his usual spot with a full view of the room. Most of the team had elected to sit around the metal tables, the briefing now on its third hour - not quite as brief as one would hope, he thought.

He watched Gaz lean back into a stretch, arms opening wide and settling at the back of your chair. You glanced up at the sergeant briefly before turning back to the neatly stacked piles of documents in front of you, poring over the mind-numbing reports and occasionally making notes.

Your integration into the group - Johnny and Gaz, anyway - had not been seamless from his observations, but the sergeants had been as open as could reasonably be expected from their personalities, and you seemed to be reciprocating - or trying to, anyway.

"Ach - not even in the emails? Employee profiles?"

Johnny piped up, unable to hide the annoyance that darkened his features. Ghost had noticed the Scot had been mellower in recent months. Maybe even years - ever since Zakhaev, at least - the burden of their profession was a continuous wear and tear on the mind and soul for those who hadn't locked away parts of themselves like he had. Like his boots, gloves, tactical vests, the work pushed and pulled at soldiers, clawing and scratching till it had to be replaced, patched up, or discarded.

Conveniently, Ghost mused, replaced, patched up, or discarded were the same three fates most soldiers stumbled into.

Johnny knew what this job meant, had experienced it firsthand, and still continued to shoulder the responsibilities. Ghost was intimately familiar with the drive to push through and respected that need - even if it meant watching a part of his comrade wither away.

Laswell sighed, rubbing her temples as she looked up from her computer to meet Johnny's eyes.

"All legitimate, tracing back to businesses or third party contractors."

"All fer nothin' then, was it?"

Price, who had opted to stand as well with his arms crossed, chose this moment to speak up.

"It's hard to imagine the ultranationalists just went and gave up after Zakhaev's death."

At this, Soap leaned back a bit, shifting his whole attention on to price. Ghost remembered reading the reports, how shattered Soap had been over Zakhaev when he got back from S.A.S. recon in Mexico.

"We know Makarov is well trained in counterinsurgency from his time in Airborne and the Spetznaz, but there must be a link somewhere - you don't move weapons and people on the scale he does without having some kind of paper trail."

You chose this moment to speak up, hand still carefully taking down notes as you pored over the files in front of you.

"You mentioned contractors. May we have a list?"

Laswell glanced up at surprise at you before switching to a different tab. It was true that you hadn't been particularly vocal in your time at the base, keeping your distance from most of the upper brass.

"Gutter cleaners, vehicle upkeep, insurance inspections, air conditioning installation, occupational health and safety reviews, catering-"

He watched you smile, that was that same wry smirk, the same twist of the lips that pulled at your face and made your eyes quirk in such a way that-

He jerked his head to the side, keeping his eyes trained on Laswell's computer.

"Couldn't imagine air conditioning would be on my list of priorities, in a winter desert."

Wordlessly, Laswell pulled her laptop closer to her, instantly beginning to pore over the emails sent by the air conditioning company. Price and Johnny shared a look when Laswell made a hum of approval.

"Seems this company uses a really simple order form template, copy and pasted- not really something you'd expect of a company taking orders at this volume."

Gaz reached over, leaning over the table to point at the screen.

"Subject: Notice of equipment upgrade. In our ongoing efforts to enhance the performance of our air-conditioning units, Our technicians will be overseeing the delivery and installation of a package containing the latest components aimed at optimizing energy efficiency. Your cooperation during this upgrade process is greatly appreciated."

He whistled, leaning back in his chair. "They've 'upgraded' their air-conditioning 11 times in the past 4 months.'

You didn't even acknowledge the discovery, still buried in the files. It strangely grated at him, this nonchalance of yours- but surely it was better than the callous sort of arrogance many soldiers at your level possessed? He respected good soldiers, especially those fighting alongside him. But you... there was something different about you.

He was aware of the glaring hypocrisy, to question someone's integrity because of the walls they put up when he himself wore a mask to distance himself from who he was outside of the battlefield.

But you wore a different kind of mask.

He had noticed, during brief moments where your professionalism didn't so much crack as it distended- like a rubber band warping after being pulled apart too strong. There was a smouldering fire beneath the glacial shell of duty you wore. It flickered sometimes, a molten glint in your eyes or a wry quirk of your lips, hinting at a real live breathing person within.

That ferocity had sparked your first clash in the mountains, tangled limbs and shared breaths in thin air, his gaze tracing the map of your face as he tried to determine your motives, whether or not he could trust you. Then there was the hangar, your quiet confidence grating against his need for control. An unlikely pair, yet you'd executed the mission flawlessly. Rolled with the punches and gotten through it all.

Though his face betrayed nothing, his mind buzzed with thoughts as he went over your latest interactions - outrage at your audacity, annoyance at your nonchalance, and a strange reluctance to let go of the distruption you caused, one he wouldn't- couldn't, try to understand the root of.

Beyond it all, he had to admit, was a begrudging sort of respect.

"8 payments have been made this quarter alone to the HVAC company - all worth tens of thousands."

"Drip feedin' Makarov's extra curriculars I take it- any ID on the company behind it Laswell?"

"Northwest of the Caucausus mountains. I'll clear it through Shepherd."

He saw your lips quirk down into a frown at Laswell's words, clearly unhappy about something. He tore his eyes away, accidentally locking gazes with Price, who tossed a raised his eyebrow his way. He maintained eye contact, unwilling to look away first and crossing his arms when Price shook his head and muttered something under his breath.

"We should-" it was the first time he'd ever heard you sound even the tiniest bit hesitant. "We should look into Makarov's known contacts. See who's benefitting from his actions that may be flying under the radar. All of them, even known hostile connections."

There was an implication to your words that Ghost didn't like, and he voiced it.

"Looks like we're already drownin' in information and more questions than answers. Want to send us on a wild goose chase when we don't even know if there's a goose to chase, do ya?"

He could see your jaw tense the tiniest bit as you turned to him, eyes hard.

"All I'm saying is that - paramilitary operations do not function in a vacuum, sir. Terrorist attacks require weapons, and those weapons require logistics to distribute, processing, manufacturing - everything does. The fact that we've run into nothing might suggest we're being walled off from information by design."

There was it- that spark, like flint and steel crashing together. He approached the table, placing both hands on it as he lowered himself to look at you directly in the eyes. When he spoke, his voice was rough, taking on a gravelly quality.

"We've been working on this for years and you've been here a month- if you could focus on your job instead of speculating on facts that aren't there maybe you could actually get the job you were assigned to do done, sergeant."

"Yes, sir." You gritted out, lips thinning. He could see in the tenseness of your shoulders that had he not been your superior this discussion would have been more drawn out.

But your words were beyond inflammatory - they were dangerous and put into question the very foundation of the chain of command that the operation was centered on. You would have to learn that these were thoughts best kept to yourself - it was clear to him that you lacked experience and maybe even the humility that came from working with teammates.

Relaxing his shoulders, he turned to regard the group, realizing that several pairs of eyes were now glancing between you and him with varying levels of confusion and surprise. Laswell, closing her laptop with a neat click, spoke first.

"I think we got it. This corporation has two locations- we'll do some recon and get a plan going, try and positively ID any key people. Great catch, Azrael. I sense this is something big."

You shifted the tiniest bit, simply nodding in response. He hadn't seen you handle direct compliments very well - the military did acknowledgements at most.

You remained quiet for the rest if the briefing and the dismissal after, studiously going over old files, not meeting his eyes again.

"LT! I think we need ourselves a little celebration to welcome our little Sherlock here, aye?"

You mumbled a bit, shuffling as the Scotsman draped an arm over you and patted your arm.

"Just identified an anomaly in the information- is all-"

"None of that now, gawn yerself! We got an ol' teammate comin' with us, Roach, I reckon you'll like 'im."

"I think it would really help your case if you could speak English, McTavish." Ghost remarked, dryly. He had been ready to leave and stretch his legs after leaning up against cold concrete for closing in on 4 hours.

"Alright- not sure about drinking, with the mission coming up soon, but I'll go."

"Ach pure brilliant, so it is. Gaz! You're drivin'! No fun juice for you m'fraid."

There was a groan from inside the communal area, then a smattering of mutters of which if Ghost were a betting man, he'd say could give any sailor a run for their money.

"What d'ya say LT?" He turned back to two sets of eyes, yours a strained sort of amusement, before he leaned back and rested his hands on the straps of his vest.

"Fuckin' hell. You're buyin', Johnny."

There was outraged sputtering, so Scottish it was indecipherable, before he turned to leave. His eyes locked with yours for a split second, assessing. Then he broke connection and made his way back to his barracks, his mind lingering.

He wondered what you were like away from it all.

Away from Azrael.

You seemed like more of a person than he allowed himself to be - but that remained to be seen.

Tonight, the echoes of questions would be drowned at the bottom of a bottle.

°°°°°

Translation for the Soapese:

Gawn yerself: Go on yourself (You're doing really good)

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 10 – FOUND FAMILY

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: scifigrl47

If you've been in this fandom for any amount of time, you've probably read something of Sci's. The universes that she's created are a fandom staple, and it says a lot about how fantastic her writing is that her OCs fit seamlessly into the stories, to the point that I sometimes forget that they're not actually canon. I especially love the way she writes the whole Found Family aspect of the Avengers, so those are the kinds of fics I want to rec today. But honestly you should just go ahead and binge her entire AO3, because everything on it is incredible.

Here's some of her work that I think you should check out:

Phil Coulson Knows Tony Stark's Super Villain Name

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Clint/Coulson Rating: T Words: 14,454 Tags: Training Exercise, Paintball, Humor

Summary: The only thing really stopping Tony Stark from attempting to conquer the world is that he wouldn't know what to do with it once he conquered it. He's still pretty sure he could do it, though. SHIELD's pretty sure he could do it, too, and SHIELD is pretty uncomfortable with that. There's a plan in place, in case Tony makes a try for world domination, or any sort of caped super villainy. It involves Steve. No one is surprised. This is not that plan. This is a training exercise, involving paint balls. It might end with world domination, anyway.

Reasons why I love it: You just know that if Tony wanted to, he would've taken over the world a long time ago. This fic is hilarious, and I especially love Bruce and Harris' roles in this disaster that Fury calls a training exercise. Also, Darcy is goddamn adorable. This fic always puts a smile on my face, so I hope you check it out!

The Best of Life and Asgard

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Clint/Coulson Rating: M Words: 15,794 Tags: Humor, Public Indecency, Drunken Behavior

Summary: Tony Stark has been drunk at a few parties in his life. A quick browse of YouTube makes that impossible to deny, so he doesn't bother. But he can control himself, he doesn't have to drink. He can stay perfectly sober for just one night. He promised, he could go one night without drinking. The problem is, he was the only one who made that promise.

Reasons why I love it: Drunk Steve is so adorable, oh my god. I love the mild dash of angst sprinkled in at the beginning and the end, and Steve's upset over his own behavior is funny and endearing at the same time. The strip poker scene makes me cry laughing every time. And the Avengers family feels are strong with this one. I adore this fic, so please check it out, if you haven't already!

Phil Coulson Does Not Bake (and The Avengers Do Not Shop At IKEA Anymore)

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Clint/Coulson Rating: G Words: 6,671 Tags: Humor, Pranks, Baking

Summary: Sometimes Tony Stark makes poor choices. Sometimes Tony pushes his teasing of Steve Rogers just a little too far. Sometimes Steve decides he's had enough. Phil Coulson's the one who's got to write this nonsense up, and he does not bake.

Reasons why I love it: Tony is such a little shit. Honestly, he deserves what Steve has in store for him. And of course, Tony is absolutely adorable in his desperation to make it up to Steve, even if he has to learn a new skill to do it. The rest of the Avengers getting roped into it is just the cherry on top. I love this one so much, please go and read it for yourself, it's amazing!

Extracurricular Activities

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Clint/Coulson Rating: T Words: 8,332 Tags: Overprotective Avengers, Poor Choices, Exotic Dancing

Summary: New York has a party for any taste. Some people like high class lounges. Some enjoy a good dive bar. There are gay bars and techno clubs and all night raves. And somewhere out there, there's a club where the dancers are dressed like Super Heroes, and Spider-Man may or may not be their headliner. Let's face it, the everyone assumed that Clint would be the first Avenger to take up pole dancing. He's a little distressed he's been beaten to the punch.

Reasons why I love it: I don't know why, but somehow the thought of Spiderman pole-dancing for money just makes complete sense in my head. And the rest of the Avengers being nosy bitches about it is a given. We love to see it. And any appearance of Harris in a scifigrl47 fic is enough to make my day. This fic is amazing, and you should definitely go ahead and read it!

Phil Coulson is Not the Avengers' Public Relations Manager

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Clint/Coulson Rating: T Words: 6,881 Tags: Humor, Steve Does Not Like Bullies, Social Justice

Summary: From the Avengers Case Files of Phil Coulson: Grocery shopping is necessary, Tony's a little too proud of his tech, Captain America's lost on the streets of New York, and sometimes social injustice just happens. Phil Coulson's the one who's got to write this nonsense up, and he is not their PR Manager.

Reasons why I love it: Drew and Shawn have my entire heart. And Steve too, although that one's a given. I love seeing the Avengers fight for social justice, and their statements to the press are so fucking satisfying. Give me Steve fighting bullies any day! Definitely check this one out if you haven't read it yet, I bet you'll love it just as much as I do!

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Alpha, Beta (& Omega)"

Story Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2368

Pairing: Steve x Bucky

Tags: a/b/o, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, nobility/royalty au, alternate history, dom/sub elements, beta bucky, hurt/comfort, age gap, domestic discipline, spanking, head of household, wedding night, Edwardian time period, m/f/m poly marriage

Summary: To save House Barnes from scandalous ruin, James must agree to a contracted marriage, accepting Lord Sentor Steven Rogers as his Alpha, Husband, and Headship.

To read previous parts of this series, go to the masterlist

2. A Most Untoward Introduction

Chapter Summary: Before Bucky knows what’s what, a prenuptial agreement has been negotiated and arrangements are being made. Deciding to cause one last scandal before he's bound to a controlling Spouse for the rest of his life, he takes the train to New York for a night on the town.

House Barnes holds the New Jersey Seat, but of course Bucky’s been to New York. It’s where all the best parties are.

He’d have been perfectly happy if it had been university or even his own youthful adventures that brought him to live in New York City, but the fact that it’s a marriage of convenience means that he’s not happy about it. Not one little bit.

Lord Rogers gets word back to Winnifred fairly quickly, and before Bucky knows what’s what, a prenuptial agreement and dowry has been negotiated and arrangements are being made. The servants start packing his things and the neighbors visit with well wishes and Bucky is just dying inside, because he can’t stand this. He’s engaged, and everyone's acting all glad and happy because House Barnes won't be ruined after all, but all Bucky feels is a growing sense of dread. He hates that it’s out of his control.

To feel better about the whole situation, and to maybe just cause one last scandal before he's bound to a controlling Spouse for the rest of his life, Bucky—engaged as he is—takes the train to New York with some friends for a night on the town. House Romanov is hosting an evening at the St. Regis, and it’s where everyone who’s anyone will be.

The party is in full swing by the time Bucky walks through the ballroom doors. He inhales deeply, feeling some of the tension of the last two weeks slipping away. He’s going to have a good time tonight, impropriety be damned. Hell, he’ll be disappointed if by tomorrow morning there aren’t headlines in some cheap tabloid. With a smirk and a drink swiped off a passing waiter’s tray, Bucky thinks that perhaps his stupid father won’t be the only one to make the papers, come Monday.

The party isn’t meant for Senators themselves. Bucky and his loose group of friends wouldn’t have bothered attending, if it was. Instead, it's the sons and daughters and the fortunate friends of the country’s ruling class who crowd the hotel ballroom. The music is fast and loud, pushing the limits of what their parents would find suitable, and the dancing that’s taking place isn’t the requisite twelve inches apart. It's a fashionable evening of young people drinking too much and behaving loosely—mostly single Betas and Alphas, as there are no chaperones present to protect the virtue of unmarried omegas. But there are a few married omegas whom Bucky spots amongst the throng of guests, their beta Spouses or Alpha Headships never far away. Bucky stands towards the edge of the room and downs several glasses of champagne as he surveys the crowd, assessing his options.

Suddenly, someone is at his side, starched skirts brushing up against his dress pants. He glances over. “Natasha,” he says. “Thank you for the evening. It's a good turn out."

“Of course,” she says. "But I honestly didn’t expect you to be attending.”

“Oh, and why’s that?”

“Does your fiancée know you’re here?”

“No." Bucky takes another sip of his drink, mulish over her use of the word 'fiancée'. "And I wouldn’t care if he did. I’m free for a few more nights, at least.”

“A date’s been set, then?”

His guts clench at the question. “Yeah,” he mumbles. "Yeah. June first.” That evening is May twenty-fifth. He’s getting married in a week. Sighing, he tosses back the end of his drink and shoves the empty glass at a passing server. His head’s floating already, filled pleasantly with bubbles. He’ll be drunk within the half hour, he thinks. “This is my last hurrah,” he says to Natasha. “Don’t try to stop me.”

She shrugs. “I won’t. Though I have a feeling I should. You’re going to make a spectacle of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Why not? It’s not like my dear betrothed is here to stop me.” Bucky sneers, liking the thought of making a headline or two so that when he walks up to the altar in a few days, he'll earn a glare from his new husband. “If the good Captain cared, he’d be here, now wouldn’t he?”

“I suppose,” Natasha says, looking amused. “Have fun with that, James.”

Bucky grunts, shaking off the thought that perhaps she disapproves of his intentions. Whatever, he thinks. She'd do the same if she were in his boat. Bucky's the one being forced into a marriage of convenience to salvage his family's name. He deserves to have one last bit of fun.

The first person to catch his eye is a handsome young alpha with auburn hair. Bucky doesn’t recognize him as a Senatorial heir, but that doesn’t mean much. Bucky's only been introduced to society for a few short years, and he's spent far more of that time in hospital beds than he has in ballrooms. There are surely many members of Society—both high and low—with whom he is still unacquainted. Emboldened by the champagne, he approaches the auburn-haired stranger and strikes up a friendly but inelegant conversation.

The stranger engages with him for a few moments before he seems to realize who Bucky is, his attention catching on Bucky's neck and his stiff left arm. “Oh," he says. "You’re James Barnes."

Bucky’s a little miffed at being recognized by his scars, but he lets it pass. He’s still got a pretty face, after all. He’s a little confident that it can make up for his shortcomings. Especially to a half-drunk alpha with no date on his arm. “Yeah,” he says. “And who are you? I’d think I’d remember such a handsome face.”

The man looks surprised, and he visibly gains confidence as he catches onto Bucky’s interest. His posture becomes more flirtatious and he inches closer to Bucky. “Oh? Well I’m not Society, but my father does business with House Stark. Hammer industries?”

Bucky’s eyes light up. Even better. He steps closer and reaches to finger shamelessly at the man's lapel. “Bourgeoises,” he hums. “Just my taste."

A couple hours later, and Bucky has obtained a reservation and a room key from the front desk. His companion joins him on the lift, where the grate gets closed and the operator averts his eyes. Bucky kisses his companion and snickers privately to himself about the impropriety of it. He wonders if the lift operator will be the one to give comments to the tabloids, come tomorrow morning.

The alpha Bucky's kissing does a fair job of it, despite their mutual drunkenness. He favors brandy, evidenced by the flavor of his tongue each time it dips into Bucky's mouth. He kisses confidently, and his hands are large and rough where they grip at Bucky’s sides. The lift 'dings' as it arrives at their floor, and they step off together. The poor lift operator looks downright relieved to be rid of them, nodding his head with a harried, "Sirs," and quickly lowering back out of sight.

Bucky’s companion laughs and tugs him along down the hall to their room. “I daresay I like you,” he says. “A beta who knows what he wants. No wasting time.”

Bucky hums. He stands at the door to the room and tries to fit the key into the lock, but it’s hard with the other man standing behind him the way he is, holding his hips and rubbing up against him and kissing at his neck. “Mm, can’t wait to undress you.”

Bucky groans. “Yeah." He’s all for exhibitionism, but the hallway is too much, even for him, and he continues to fumble with the key. "Just ... gotta get this damn door."

The man laughs. “This is so improper!"

"No that improper," Bucky grunts. "Jeez."

The man snickers and noses under his ear. "Well aren't you supposed to be engaged?"

“Yes, he is."

The voice that cuts in is deep and unamused. Bucky inhales sharply and whips his head to the side. There’s another man standing there, another alpha, looking borderline furious and smelling that way, too. He’s handsome, blond haired and strong-jawed, but he’s also in the way, and Bucky looks him up and down with a scowl. “Do you mind?”

The man steps closer. He’s not looking at Bucky, but rather at Bucky's companion. “Take your hands off of him and get out of here,” he says.

Bucky isn’t expecting his companion to listen, is actually expecting a pissing contest to take place, but then the guy’s hands leave his hips and he steps away. “I’m sorry,” he says to to the alpha, sounding very embarrassed, despite his drunkenness, then he hurries away back towards the lift.

Bucky cannot believe it. He turns to glare at the new stranger. “Who the fuck do you think you are?!” he yells. He’s swollen in his pants, after all, and this guy has ruined his plans. The man doesn’t look abashed though. He looks disapproving as hell, which pisses Bucky off even more. “I asked you a question,” he growls, getting in the alpha’s face.

The man doesn’t budge. He just looks at Bucky like he’s a stupid kid. “I think you’d better go in that room and sleep off the state you’ve gotten yourself into,” he says. “I’m booked into a room down the hall. I’ll see you home safely in the morning.”

“Excuse me?” Bucky says, fuming. He reaches up to shove him, but the man catches his hand and holds it in place just over his chest. Bucky’s eyes narrow. “Let me go.”

“Promise me you’ll go in there and go to sleep,” the man says, still not acting like he’s in the wrong at all.

Bucky growls. “Fine!” He tries to yank his hand back and is surprised when the stranger allows it. He huffs, rubbing his wrist. “Jesus, you fucking pretentious alphas, think you can do whatever you want. You’re gonna regret this. Do you know who I am?”

The man’s lips quirk, for the first time looking amused, however wryly. “I know exactly who you are. You’re a spoilt brat who’s trying to make trouble.”

Bucky gasps. He feels like hitting the guy, but knows that he’d lose that fight fast. The man before him is big and fills out his suit in a way that lets Bucky know just how strong he must be. “Fuck you,” he says, angry and drunk and too tired to maintain this argument anymore. He turns away and focuses on getting his key in the lock. “You’re gonna regret this,” he mumbles again, though this time it’s with less venom since he can tell he’s not managing to get under this stranger’s skin. The door opens and Bucky pushes through.

“Go to sleep,” the man commands, as if it’s his right to do so. “I’ll retrieve you in the morning.”

Bucky scowls at the idiot stranger and slams the door in his face. He doesn’t bother getting undressed or doing anything more than taking a piss in the ensuite and yanking his collar loose before collapsing on the bed and passing out.

An abrupt knocking wakes Bucky, the sound of it far too loud and confusing the hell out of him as he groans blearily and blinks his eyes open. “Uuugh,” he moans. His head is pounding, and suddenly he remembers the night before, remembers where he is. “Fuck,” he mutters, feeling like shit.

He’d drank too much, and that stupid stranger had ruined the only reason why he’d imbibed anyway. He sits up in the bed, sparing a glance at his rumpled clothes. He hadn’t planned to spend the night in the city. A late-night train wouldn’t have seen his debauched state nearly so well as the daylight will. Great, he thinks. Now he’ll have to trompse through the lobby of the St. Regis in broad daylight.

“Fucking great,” he mutters. He gets up from the bed, as the knocking hasn’t stopped. He opens the door, prepared to fling a nasty insult at whatever hotel employee has deigned to disturb him. “What do you think you’re—” he freezes, words lost. It’s the man from last night; the blond alpha who’d ended all his fun. Bucky’s eyes narrow. “Are you kidding me?”

“I’m afraid not,” the man says, calm. He’s dressed for the day and composed, and he nods out at the hallway. “I’m seeing you home. Let’s go.”

Bucky laughs. This man is a fucking idiot. Bucky’ll have him detained at the front desk, he decides. Tell the hotel staff to hold him for harassment while Bucky leaves. Satisfied with the thought, Bucky nods and steps out, shutting the door and starting off for the lifts. The stranger follows, self-assured. Not for long, Bucky thinks.

He turns his key in at the front desk and tells the clerk his name. One mention of House Barnes and the woman’s eyes are widening in acknowledgement. “Of course, Sir. We have your account on file.” Bucky’s lips curl as he prepares to tell the woman to make sure that the lunk at his side doesn’t follow him further, but before he can, her attention is shifting over to said lunk, and she’s saying respectfully, “And yourself, Captain Rogers? Are you checking out?”

Bucky’s heart seizes up. No. He looks over at the blond stranger and watches in vague horror as he answers to the name. Once the hotel employee has moved away, Bucky meets the alpha's gaze, astounded. “You’re Steven Rogers?”

The man—Captain Steven Rogers, it would seem—nods. “My friends call me Steve.”

Bucky gapes, mortified. “You could’ve told me who you were!”

“And what would that’ve changed?” Steve asks, eyebrow arched. “You were on a mission to misbehave last night.”

“You're damned right I was!”

“James, be quiet,” Steve snaps, looking around at all of the other hotel guests that litter the lobby. “You don’t need to make more of a scene than you already have.”

Bucky sneers. “Oh, are you embarrassed, Lord Rogers?” Steve stiffens. He takes Bucky by the upper arm and begins steering him towards the hotel’s front doors. “Hey!”

“I’m embarrassed for you, James,” Steve tells him as they emerge onto the street. He brings Bucky to the curb, where a motor carriage is idling. He opens the door and pushes Bucky in. Before he closes the door, Steve looks in at Bucky and tells him, “My man will take you home.”

“I don’t need your help,” Bucky snaps.

Steve sighs. “I understand that you’re acting out, or something along those lines.”

Bucky scowls. "I—"

“I also understand the situation that your family is in, and I won’t force you to do anything against your will. If you truly don’t want to follow through on the engagement, you only have to write me a letter. I’ll make some excuse. I won’t let anyone else know it was your decision.” Steve looks at him seriously. “But if you don’t write me that letter, James, then I’d better never hear of you behaving like this again.” He pulls back before Bucky can say anything to that. He shuts the carriage door and claps the roof to tell the driver to go. Bucky can only watch out the window as his future husband’s figure shrinks into the distance.

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[dereks-husband]

Part 2 of my DEREK X GN!READER fic because I'm in love

Ok here's Part 2! It was going to be longer, but what I wrote is already longer than Part 1 so I had to cut it in half, or maybe turn it into three parts, I have ideas lmaooo Thank you so much to anyone who reads this, and let me know what you think!!

Also does anyone have a title idea? My general idea was that they were all going to be little snapshots as you age with Derek, so I wanted to utilize the game's word of Moments, but can't get anywhere past that. Help??? Additionally, would anyone like me to share the playlist I've been listening to while writing these? It's songs inspiring the story at large, like this Part was influenced by "Teenage Dream" if anyone cares lol

Whatever Derek wanted to ask you about the weekend he came home from camp died on his lips when his coach blew that whistle. In his defense, his texts reflected the toll the rest of his training camp took on him, both physically and mentally. The amount of times he messaged you after his shower, and then very clearly fell asleep with his phone in his hand was almost comical. You were able to message him during his entire ride home, though! He didn’t want to call because he “didn’t want to disturb his teammates” which is very him, but secretly you knew it was because he didn’t want you to hear them making fun of him again. 

The most fortunate outcome of the whole situation was that, though you didn’t get to see him when he got home, his first home game was only the following Friday, so you weren’t kept in suspense long. You started classes the Thursday before he came home, and he was thrown right into the fire by starting the Monday after camp, so while you were sad about the weekend, you were able to keep yourself busy. Between the classes you decided to take that were a bit harder than what you were used to taking, and your various club responsibilities you were able to stay distracted, until you got to Friday. 

That day you couldn’t sit still to save your life. Luckily, you had some teachers that you’ve been in class with before who were generally chill, so they didn’t mind you pacing back and forth in the back of the classroom as you needed. When the final bell rang, you were out the door and on the road to his family’s home before anyone else even managed to get out of the building, you were just that ready to get to him.

Despite the fact that you were definitely driving over the speed limit, belting every song on the radio, and overall just not being as safe as you usually were, you made it to the Suarez home in one piece and without a ticket. Jorge was sitting in the lobby when you walked in and he jumped up, a little wide-eyed, quickly glancing at your overnight bag.

“Jorge! How’s my favorite middle Suarez?!” you exclaimed as you wrapped him up in a familial embrace.

He couldn’t stop the blush burning his entire face. He mumbled something incoherent into your shoulder, but at least this time he didn’t hesitate to return your hug immediately. You broke off the hug and put your hands on his shoulders, looking him over, “wow Jorge! You’re almost as tall as Derek is now, yeah?”

Bashfully he avoids eye contact, “I grew almost a foot this summer…”

“Oh wow! Well that explains it!” you beam at him, happy to see the young teen, not much older than you were when you met him for the first time, looking like he’s doing well. “So tell me, how was your first week of high school? Was it as intimidating as you thought it would be?” You added, simply because you knew that of all the Suarez boys, Jorge is by far the most timid, and you can’t help but worry that people aren’t giving him the chance he deserves. 

“It was fine. You beat Nico home.” He added quickly, finally looking you in the eye.

You took a moment to blink away the shock that must have been evident on your face, given the way his eyes widened in surprise over your reaction. “I did? So you weren’t my welcoming party at all then?” you add, pretending to wipe a tear away.

“No! I was waiting for both of you, I just was expecting Nico to be the one here first,” he says, doing his best to reassure you.

“Well okay then, glad to hear it,” you smile at him again. “I didn’t realize that I had gotten here so early, but I can wait with you for Nico if you’d like?”

“If you want,” he replies, and then sits back in the chair he was in when you arrived. 

The two of you sat together for a bit, chatting about different things, clubs, how many puzzles he’s done since you last saw him, how his summer was, if there’s anyone in school he might be interested in, which earned you another full face blush and a slack-jawed look. Eventually Nico’s bus dropped him off and after a brief greeting the three of you headed up to the apartment. 

When you got there you found the Suarez parents geared up for the game, fully painted faces, and wearing the school colors in just about everything they were wearing, jerseys, big sunglasses, feather boas, hats, this family is truly full of all-or-nothing people. Laughing, you greet them before quickly running your bag down to Derek’s room, and changing into your own fan outfit, including the extra jersey Derek left laying on his bed for you to wear. You grab your poster and beaded necklaces out of your bag. You’ve bought one for every game you’ve been to. You’re aiming to get to 50 this year, and with tonight and Halloween being a lock for attending you would only have to go to three other games. However, the goal is only to reach 50, you would have absolutely no problem with going over. 

Walking back into the hall, you find that Nico has already finished changing, including changing his signature hair clips to be ones that fit the color scheme. The two of you head back to the living room together, all the while he’s cracking jokes about the amount of necklaces you have adorning your body, way too many to just put around your neck anymore. You have many wrapping up your arms, a couple that you put around your ankles, and the rest are just clipped together and hanging down your back, almost like a cape. The one for tonight’s game is in your pocket, because at some point it became tradition that Derek adds it to your ever-growing pile.

Once in the living room, you find that Jorge got his face painted while you and Nico were occupied, so the two of you take a seat at the counter and the Suarez parents, each armed with a different color, make quick work of the two of you, and then you’re all quickly moving out the door.

Luckily, the trip to the field is short, so while you’re all filled with nervous energy, you’re able to start moving around again quickly, before any of you can get too antsy. When you arrive, you find the teams already on the field, doing stretches and last minute drills. Looking at the scoreboard you see that there’s still about 20 minutes until the game is actually going to start, which also means they’ll head back to the locker rooms soon. Mrs. Suarez gives you a knowing look, and says they’ll make sure to save you a seat and nods towards the concession stand. You give a quick “thanks” and run off, trying to give yourself as much time as you can. At the concession stand you order a lemonade and a bottle of water, and then run back to the fence, next to the gate where the team will pass on their way back to the locker room. You check the scoreboard again, 15 minutes until the game starts.

You hear whistles being blown, both by coaches and the refs, alerting the players that it’s time to head back for last minute play changes and pep talks. Standing on your tiptoes, you search for him in the crowd of players making their way toward you. Within seconds you spot him, towards the back of the crowd, looking out at the stands, a warm smile on his face, so you know he spotted his family. In what feels like slow motion, you watch as he turns his head in your direction, and you can tell the moment he sees you. He freezes, shocked, even though you always do this so why is he surprised? Your face hurts from the smile splitting it in half.and suddenly he’s beaming, smiling so big it feels like you’re staring directly into the sun, but you couldn’t make yourself look anywhere else if you tried. He breaks into a sprint directly at you, passing his teammates so fast they have no idea what happened to cause the gust of wind now whipping around them.

Before the first of them can even reach the gate, he’s through and lifting you off the ground in an embrace, even spinning you to stop his momentum from throwing you both down. After you’re done spinning you both just pause there for a few beats, him still lifting you, you wrapping yourself around him, both of you breathless and giddy. After a few more beats, definitely more than you would expect from just a friend, you hear him gasp in your ear “hey you,” and he finally puts you down. 

“Hey yourself,” you reply, a blush covering both of your faces. You hold out your offerings to him and he lights up. 

“You know what I like!” he yelps, grabbing the lemonade and taking only one, long, drink from it, before handing it back to you and taking the water. He can’t take the lemonade with him, so you’ll make sure to run down before the game is over and get him his own for after, but he can take the water so you’ve never failed to make sure you get one for him when you come to his games. “They’re lucky” he told you once, and knowing that you have your own superstitions when it comes to your games you’re not about to stop doing it for him. 

“Some might say I’m an expert on you,” you grin, grabbing his free hand with yours and taking your own sip from your lemonade. “I don’t want to keep you though,” you add, bashfully avoiding the eyes of his teammates passing behind him who are just openly staring at the two of you.

“Oh, er, yeah, thanks,” he replies, pretending like the two of you don’t have an audience exclusively made of his peers. 

“God, could you two get a room?!” You hear one of the other players shout, before he’s muzzled by some of the other players who are all trying their best to not burst into laughter, but you can tell they want to by the way their shoulders are shaking.

You look back to Derek and he’s standing there, mouth agape, frozen, his face more red than you’ve ever seen it before. With one hand already occupied, and not willing to let go until you have to, you reach the lemonade cup up and touch it to his cheek. He practically jumps out of his skin, causing you to get into a quick lapse of giggles. When you face him again, he’s looking at you through lidded eyes and wearing his smirkiest smirk, the one that comes from needing to compete with your challenges, “so it’s like that then?”

“I don’t know what you could be talking about!” You feign innocence and bat your eyelashes at him, giving him your best doe eyes.

“Alright Casanova, you and your friend here have had long enough, let’s go,” one of his coaches calls behind him. 

You look up at the scoreboard and see that, yes, you’ve been here for almost 5 minutes. There’s only 10 minutes and a handful of seconds left before the game starts. You give his hand one last squeeze before letting go, because if it were up to him he might just drag you around the field all night. “Go get ‘em,” you say, giving him one more warm smile which he returns with a dopey-looking grin of his own, before you both turn away and head to your respective teams.

9 minutes to kickoff, you squeeze your way through the stands full of fans until you make your way to the cluster of Suarezs. Luckily they managed to get a spot in the very front, though it seemed like they found a space meant for two people and were trying to squeeze the five of you in it. Even though Nicolas and Jorge were standing on the seats and were generally smaller, it still made for a bit of a squeeze, but you already counted them as family, your future in-laws ideally, so you had no problem being a little close. The five of you chatted with each other and the other people around you for the next 5 minutes, but eventually you couldn’t help yourself from staring at the scoreboard as it counted down.

At 4 minutes to kickoff music started playing from the speakers, “Centuries” by Fall Out Boy, and you couldn’t help but give a quick laugh at the song choice before quickly getting swept up in the change of energy in the crowd, noting that this song was actually pretty perfect for getting the crowd excited.

2 minutes to go, and suddenly confetti cannons go off by the locker rooms and the teams take to the field. People in the crowd start yelling as players take the field, but knowing that he’s captain and would probably be towards the back you save your voice until you’re absolutely sure he’ll be able to hear you. “Let’s go Suarez!” You scream louder than you ever have before. And while he doesn’t look in your direction, the grin that cracks through his more serious game face would be impossible to miss. The starters take their places on the field, and after a quick handshake between the captains the coin is tossed and the game officially begins.

The first half flies by in a daze. You’ve never seen Derek so determined and fast on his feet. His teammates were even keeping up with him, which was an unusual sight, so clearly the extra effort they put into training is paying off. However, the other team, their school’s rival that they always play first, weren’t just letting them run away with the game. By the time the first half ends the score is 2-1 Derek’s team. As they head off toward the locker room, you can see the fatigue settling in the bodies of the players from both sides, even Derek. Though he tried to seem peppy and still full of energy, he was still obviously exhausted.

During halftime you finished your lemonade and threw the cup away, but other than that nothing of note happened. Everyone around you buzzed with excitement about how your team was in the lead, but there was an underlying nervousness to it. Seems like everyone else was just as aware as you were about how the other team was putting up extra effort and that they wouldn’t let the second half be any easier.

Before you know it the music winds down and the teams are running out of the locker room and taking the field once again as the game resumes. The second half is in no way easier than the first, with each passing minute wearing more and more on the players. At one point the score is tied, and then in what feels like a blink the other team pulls ahead by one point. Derek doesn’t let that slide and quickly ties it up again. From there it remained in a deadlock for most of the half. With about 5 minutes left in the intense game you run back down to the concession stand, knowing that they close before the game is over. Lemonade secured, you head back over to the fence nearest to the gate, giving you easier access to the field when his team pulls through. However, the last few minutes wind down to only 15 seconds and you actually start to worry. It’s not that they can’t still win in overtime, but you also know how Derek feels when he can’t secure the win during the actual game. 

Suddenly, your side’s stands erupt, snapping you out of your worry, and you see Derek making a charge for the net. One swift-footed kick sends the ball flying towards the upper corner of the net, and in a breath holding moment where time seems to slow, it goes in! He won with the game-winning shot! The buzzer goes off signaling the end of the game and the stands erupt in cheers. You stand there for a minute, bouncing on the balls of your feet while the teams shake hands and “good game” each other before they separate and you’re free to rush the field with the other spectators. 

Running as fast as you can without spilling his drink you rush straight at him. He’s talking to his teammates, but must sense your presence, because he turns to you, beaming, and standing there in a stance like he’s ready to catch you. Feeling secure in him, you leap off the ground and into his arms, where he catches you easily, spinning you both around while you’re yelling your congratulations. After you’re finished spinning, he just stands there again, holding you up, head buried in the crook of your neck. You bury your face in his, and just for a second, pretend that it’s just the two of you. Until suddenly he whispers in your ear, “thank you so much for being here.”

Shocked, you pull back, breaking apart your moment. “Derek, why wouldn’t I be? I would have NEVER missed tonight,” you reply, laughing a little uncomfortably, unsure how to feel. 

“I know, I just wanted you to know that it means so much to me that you came,” he says, cheeks flushing and not meeting your eyes.

Before you can reply the rest of the Suarez crew shows up and he has to set you down to give them hugs. Once he’s done though, you hand him his lemonade and take his free hand in yours again, fitting together like that’s where they belong. While you all chat you’re occasionally interrupted by other parents and players congratulating Derek and complimenting his playing, which he takes in stride. Despite the playful competitive side he has with you he’s usually really humble, taking pride in the fact that his hard work is being acknowledged, but not basking in it or gloating. Though sometimes when people mention a specific play he made that didn’t go well, or how they almost went into overtime, you feel him tense up, and a darkness coats his eyes, but only for a moment, small enough that you aren’t sure if anyone else would even notice, if you even would if you weren’t hold his hand. He never lets it dwell long enough for you to try and say anything though. 

Slowly, the field starts to clear out so you walk with him back to the locker room for him to grab his bag while his family heads to the van. Once he re-emerges he finds you standing there holding out the new necklace, “Okay, time to decide where this one goes!” You say, laughing at his face, shocked even though he knew this was coming. With a smirk, he takes the necklace from your hand and tells you to close your eyes. You do, and when he has you reopen them you find that he put it on himself! “Now wait a second-” you start, but he puts a hand up to stop you.

“I’ve always wanted one, and I think it’s fair that after, what, 40 something? It finally gets to be my turn,” he explains, eyeing you with that fake smugness that is his way of challenging you.

“Yeah,” you start, “but they’re for me to wear during the game, so even though that one can be yours, you can’t just leave it in your bag all game, that’s bad luck,” you respond, fully committing to appeal to his superstitious side.

“That’s fine, it’ll just give me a reason to find you before the game so you can hold on to it during, and then return it after,” he adds cooly, clearly having already thought this through.

“Fineeeee,” you groan, knowing full well you’re going to give him what he wants, “but you don’t get to keep any of the future ones, because then my pockets will start getting too full,” you laugh. “Deal?” You ask, while sticking your hand out to shake on it.

“Us and our deals,” he chuckles, and then looks at your hand. He pauses for a moment, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking about sealing this deal the way you sealed your marriage deal at 13, with a kiss. Before you can think too hard about it though, he takes your hand and shakes it. Without saying much else he turns to go towards the parking lot, offering his hand for you to take. You do, and as you stroll towards the van and make idle chat with him about the game, you can’t help but smile, getting excited over how the rest of the night is going to go, or maybe you were thinking about how he was considering kissing you.

[sokkastyles]

Hi,

Hope you are doing well. Thank you for the response on my last query. I was reading a meta about the air bender extermination, which you had reblogged in one of my older queries on TSR.

Reading it properly. I realized two things

The fact that all the air nomads were exterminated makes no sense. Were they stupid enough to not escape when they were attacked? If we are to believe none escaped, then air nomads are actually dumb.

The above also goes against the fact that Aang's Avatar training was to begin when he was 12 instead of 16, because the monks seems to have realized that the war was approaching, and he needed to be ready, which is why they tried to take Aang away from Monk Gyatso, which led to Aang running away out of fear.

This goes into LOK territory, but there are some disturbing implications of the way the Air Nomads operate. The idea that every air nomad child born will be a bender is just not possible. Heck, two of Aang's children are not air benders, so that itself throws a wrench in that idea. It also makes them similar to Ozai, if they actually held such idea (this point is never made in the shows or acknowledged in canon I think, but the idea is dangerous, and well Air Nomads are not to be idealized.)

I would like your thoughts on this.

(The meta I am referring to is; " The Airbender Extermination Is Dumbo and I Refuse to Accept It" by tumblr user @whentheynameyoujoy)

@whentheynameyoujoy's atla metas are a treasure, and I agree with the above statements. One of the big plot holes in the story is not only that the air Nomads were all exterminated in one fell swoop, despite being Nomads, something the live action adaptation tried to explain by having them all come to the Southern Temple on the night they were attacked, and Sozin purposefully planning his attack on that day. But the other thing about it is that as you say, the reason Aang was told before sixteen was because the Air Nomads knew the war was coming. They were preparing for it, to the point where they were willing to put a child's life on the line before he was ready, but they weren't prepared enough to be ready to fly away the moment a threat occurred? If we factor in the live action, this also means they decided to all have a party in the same place on the same night that they knew the people who wanted them dead would be at their most powerful.

It also just doesn't make thematic sense. These are AIR Nomads, they should be able to go wherever the wind takes them, to scatter at a moment's notice, to rise no matter how many times an attempt is made to crush them. Wouldn't that be a satisfying ending, for us to find out that like the air, there were hidden pockets that remained, permeating even the fire nation so that it would be impossible to truly defeat them. Wouldn't that also fit really well with the whole illusion of separation thing?

Which brings me to point three, or, Eugenics is Good When Good People Do It, which is actually very bad. The only way the Air Nomads only produced benders is if they did not mingle with the other nations, which makes no sense, since they were nomads, or if they somehow got rid of nonbender babies, either through dropping them off at the nearest earth kingdom orphanage (which is similar to my headcanon on what people like Ozai might do with nonbender children, or straight up infanticide, which Ozai also is a fan of.

Unfortunately the first method does not explain why there were no airbenders just hanging out in the other nations. Since we know that bending can be passed to a child from nonbender parents, then even nonbender children of air nomads would be passing on the airbender gene, and there would be nonbenders all over the Earth Kingdom suddenly giving birth to airbender children. That actually would have been another clever way to reintroduce airbenders back into the world, instead of...whatever Korra does. It also fits with theory of people like Ty Lee having air nomad blood without knowing it.

[i-guess-im-into-this-now]

The Apothecary Diaries

S1E7 First Watch

Here's where I watch The Apothecary Diaries for the first time and give my thoughts, analysis, predictions, and occasionally I stumble into a joke.

If you want to read from the beginning:

Episode 1

My character cheat sheet

Hongniang - Head LIW at Jade Pavilion

Lady Lishu - child bride concubine

Lady Ah Duo - one of the top 4 concubines

Lady Lihua - concubine who was poisoned by face power

Crystal Pavilion - Lady Lihua's residence

Jade Pavilion - Lady Gyokuyou's residence

Xiaolan - Maomao's servant girl friend

Lihaku - military officer who gave Maomao a hairpin

The Verdigris House - brothel

Luomen - Maomao's dad

Maomao has been ordered to rest since she was poisoned last episode. Her friends are worried and demand she take time to let herself heal. Maomao would rather not, but so far she is compliant.

And now that she has time to think, some of the things she has been repressing are rising. She's thinking about her father and wondering if he is okay. I suspect that she hasn't spent a lot of time with the grief of losing her old life. But grief is something that is inside you, not something you can run away from. Now that she is still, there is no where to hide from it.

Her trauma is also making itself known. She admits to feeling uncomfortable without her freckles painted on. Her altered appearance has been a shield she wore to protect herself from the male gaze.

The fact that she is processing her grief and trauma is actually a good sign that she is in a place that she feel safe. And I credit that to the love and care she receives at the Jade Pavilion.

But Maomao can only tolerate so much of this kind of introspection, so she paints her freckles on and goes to ask to be allowed to work. Apparently, most of the people at the garden party thought Maomao was literally a different person and Lady Gyokuyou is fine with Maomao hiding her true face.

Gaoshun has been at the pavilion all morning, just waiting for an opportunity to talk to Maomao, and not for any other reason, especially not to spend time with Hongniang. Lady Gyokuyou sent this high ranking official out to the yard to pull weeds because he was making eyes at Hongniang bored. Once again Maomao notes that Gaoshun is prime husband material. If only he weren't a "eunuch." My prediction here is that he is a private guard/official to Jinshi who was assigned to the rear palace along with his master, rather than a regular eunuch or palace official.

Jinshi actually sent Maomao the poisonous soup that she asked for. Gaoshun wants her to promise she won't drink it. Lol.

Maomao is out here using fingerprinting analysis to solve this crime. She deduces how many people have touched the bowl and is compelled to tell Gaoshun her theories on Lady Lishu's food taster. A fuller extent of the bullying that Lady Lishu experiences is painted. It turns out her ladies in waiting are even more terrible than Lady Lihua's.

The person who added the poison touched the rim of the bowl which is something servants handling food are trained not to do. So that eliminates a few suspects. Maomao has passed what she knows to Gaoshun, and therefore Jinshi. Hopefully he will have some insight.

But not tonight. We are seeing an exhausted Jinshi for the first time. He hasn't slept, or changed his clothes, and now he doesn't have the energy to be formal. Gaoshun scolds him for it.

Gaoshun: Your true nature's starting to show.

Jinshi: Who cares? There's nobody here.

Gaoshun: You're forgetting me.

Jinshi: A little slack, if you please.

Gaoshun: No.

As it turns out, Gaoshun has been looking after Jinshi since the day he was born. Yet, despite their long relationship, Jinshi is not permitted to relax in his company. I feel bad for Jinshi here. His relationship with Gaoshun may be the closest one he has, and yet even this is so formal. It has to be a lonely existence.

And as if we hadn't picked up that Jinshi is in fact a prince, this whole conversation offers more evidence. He has had a minder since the day he was born, and the dignity of his station must be maintained at all times.

And if that isn't enough, Jinshi's hairpin is a symbol of his status. Gaoshun is frustrated that Jinshi just tossed this hairpin of great importance.

It's something only special individuals can wear.

Xiaolan informs Maomao that she can use the hairpin she was gifted to request that the man who gave it to her escort her outside the palace. Maomao is enthusiastic about the idea. And two men have given her a pin. I'm guessing she'll ask the bouncy military officer before Jinshi, even though she knows him better. Things are complicated with Jinshi and there are so many unnamed feelings between them. Asking Jinshi would mean something. Whereas Lihaku means nothing to Maomao. He is a means to an end.

Not Maomao questioning whether Jinshi qualifies as a man! OMG!

But considering how one of them lost a certain part of their anatomy does he still count?

And Lihaku is... kind of a shitty guy. He's repulsed that Maomao isn't as beautiful as she was at the party, accuses her of being clueless, and trying to take advantage of him. His tune drastically changes when Maomao makes an offer to get him a night with a high ranking courtesan.

And this is why Maomao chose Lihaku to be her escort rather than Jinshi. This is what she has to trade. An introduction to a famous courtesan would not be of interest to the two women, or the "eunuch" who gave her hair pins, but it very much interests Lihaku. This is just a business transaction for both Maomao and Lihaku, but it is a successful one. Maomao has secured an escort to take her home.

Maomao's pavilion friends are enthused for her. They essentially are acting like Maomao has accepted a proposal. They don't question her on why the man she is leaving the palace with is a different guy than Jinshi who they saw give her a hairpin first. They are simply happy for Maomao's good fortune. Maomao understands none of that. Lady Gyokuyou knows that Maomao doesn't understand about the hairpins and she spares a thought for Jinshi saying:

A pity. His poor heart. When he finds out, it's going to shatter.

Which delights her. Lady Gyokuyou is looking forward to seeing Jinshi suffer. Me too.

And sure enough, when he visits a day too late, Lady Gyokuyou delivers the new about Maomao in the most devastating way she can, implying that Maomao has eloped. She then laughs at Jinshi's horrified reaction before softening the news by letting him know she'll return in 3 days. Lady Gyokuyou is my hero.

As we enter the pleasure district, Maomao describes the various roles the women there play. The Three Princesses of Verdigris House are revered by all. They outrank everyone else. Courtesans in general are respected and there are many girls who hope to be one. Though it's very competitive. Girls will become servants and train to become a courtesan but there is no guarantee they will achieve it. This show is always showing us the various roles that women play in this society.

The Madame of Verdigris House greets Maomao with a violent gut punch. She does allow Lihaku to enter the brothel and meet with one of the princesses. Turns out Maomao is paying half of all of her earnings from the palace for this opportunity. And it's still not enough. She's in debt to the brothel. That's probably not a good thing. In fact, I could see that going very, very wrong. She's going to need to be careful.

Maomao returns home, and things are weird with her dad.

Maomao: Hello Dad. I'm home.

Luomen: Oh. Welcome back. You were gone awhile.

Maomao is so happy to see him. She's smiling the whole time, but the casual interaction after her disappearing without a trace and coming back after so long, is weird.

After Maomao falls asleep, Luomen is reflecting and thinks:

The Rear Palace? What a twist of fate.

What do mean Luomen?!

Do you mean generally? Like oh, look how this poor girl who used to live on the bad side of town and work hard to scrape by, is now living in the palace and hanging out with royalty?

Or do you mean specifically? Is there some reason that Maomao being in the rear palace is remarkable? Does she have some hidden connection to the palace? Does she know?

Very little JinMao content in this episode. Which is probably good because they have some things to think about about after all the events of the day of the garden party.

We might be seeing the beginnings of Jinshi unraveling. He's either unable or unwilling to keep up all the walls he's kept until now. Maomao somehow slipped through and he's starting to question if it's worth the effort to keep them up. He tested taking them down with Gaoshun, but was rebuffed. But the cracks have already begun forming and it's only a matter of time before things start to give. He's had a taste of something real and I doubt he can go back to the way things were before.

Maomao on the other hand is running. She had some time to think in the beginning of the episode and she's scared. The emotions are so big and scary. And for as honest and straightforward as Maomao is, she is not good at being vulnerable. It's not a coincidence that she left the palace right after all that happened with Jinshi the day of the garden party. She needs to get away from the palace and Jinshi so she can evaluate how she feels and decide what she wants to do.

Maomao returns home, back to a place where she knew who she was and what she wanted. But she's changed from her time in the palace, and she needs to examine that. Her desires have also changed. Does she really want to leave the palace and return to work for her father?

There are parallel stories being played out between Maomao and Jinshi. Both of them have changed and can't return to the way things were before.

It will be interesting to see how these characters adjust to change, and how their stories will differ or reflect each other.

Most of Jinshi's challenges seem to be external; the pressures of his status, the condfines of his station. He seems willing, perhaps even eager, to face the rising emotions.

Maomao on the other hand has a lot more freedom and less external pressure than Jinshi (ironic because she's an indentured servant), but she instead struggles with internal stressors; the scars of trauma, and fear of intimacy. She fears the rising emotions.

For both of them, there is no going back, and they will have to adjust to the changes and face the challenges that result. There is no way out but through.

But hopefully they will come together face their challenges side by side.

🤞

If you want to read these from the beginning:

Episode 1

Next episode:

Episode 8

[revserrayyu]

2.6 Penacony thoughts [part 3]

**Spoiler warning** for the very last bit of the story, starting with the party setup and everything that follows after. Of course don’t read further you haven’t finished the story for yourself because I wouldn’t like the ruin the experience for you.

I always love how self aware the game is. I personally can’t remember why he would be here right now but his tendency of using movie terms so passionately at every chance he gets is endearing to me for some reason, so I’ll let his sudden appearance slide just because I enjoy having him around.

Boothil calling Robin “singing queen” is something I didn’t know I needed until it was said and done, like shut up that’s adorable.

Him opening up about his past in an attempt to calm her down before the performance.. y’all, this pair was cute to me before but this whole patch has sold me on them.

Reca literally calling people npcs but at least he says they can still hold value and the power to influence others. I think life can be thought of this way too, like other people obviously can’t be you, they may not even be part of your supporting cast of characters, but they’re still human and should at least be treated with kindness because who knows how they may or may not affect your life.

Robin mentions Sunday once and all I can imagine is him still chained up to that chair Jade found him in. Really looking forward to seeing how our holy man manages to return in 2.7. I’m still placing my own hopes on him accepting Jade’s deal but we shall see. If so, I’m curious to learn what the consequence will be and how people’s opinions of Jade might change. I wonder, if she saves your beloved Sunday, would y’all still dislike her? I’m already so fond of her so naturally I’d love to give her more praise if such a scenario does happen.

But Robin has seemed so downcast ever since that final battle. Poor girl. She really has been doing so much on her own since Sunday got locked up. You don’t have to do everything by yourself sweetie! So many people are willing to help!

Ma’am you're so pretty. DJ queen is truly a bright and beautiful sight to behold! I’m glad she’s able to smile so big after all the chaos Penacony experienced recently.

And then we have our lovable cowboy sitting off to the side enjoying the show.. until some random npcs come over and drag him to the dance floor so he can really sway to the beat.

As much as I love seeing the Trailblazer wield different weapons in cutscenes, I really wish we pulled out the bat or lance for this one. Seeing us hold out the hat while Dan Heng wields Cloud-piercer and Rappa with her giant shuriken just makes us look a bit silly.

I did like how Reol’s song from Rappa’s trailer played in game during that whole section where all we did was spam Rappa’s technique and chase down Profnana. I hope Hoyo continues to include trailer songs more in the actual story in the future, like how they included a calmer version of Monodrama during the 2.3 Sparkle bomb hunt scene.

All that nonsense with the monkeys is happening and March is over here just living her best life at the concert. I suppose that’s fair. She was hard at work during our recent trip back to the Xianzhou with her training arc, fight against Hoolay and calming down a raging Feixiao, so now it’s our turn to endure all the craziness.

Never in my life would I have imagined seeing Boothill in the spotlight during one of Robin’s shows and yet here we are.

He’s such a fun, entertaining character.. I guess if he can moonwalk during his own trailer, he’s perfectly capable of tap dancing and busting out some silly moves like this.

Behold! A literal definition of crashing into a party.

At least we provided Dan Heng with a soft landing? Seems we’re totally fine with it too if the rock n roll hand signs are anything to go by.

Rappa naturally makes a much calmer landing, until one of her spray can bonks her on the head again. Still a fine ending to a successful mission.

Damn dude, what else has the IPC done to you?

I’m actually not too surprised to see Rappa act this way? like she doesn’t seem the type of person to be completely hung up on getting revenger over someone else who wronged her. She’ll still feel hatred towards them, sure, but she’s able to put all those emotions aside and focus on other things if she wants to, like that whole band side quest that recently started.

I dunno, I still think attending university in a dream is such a wild concept. Penacony is truly a bizarre place.

Oohh boy. Safe to say we’ll be seeing these two again in the future, yeah?

Well, that’s all for now. I did finish the whole band side quest that had all the rhythm games last night and it was fine. Far less Serval than I had originally expected with how the 2.6 livestream introduced the event though, but at least she was there for a fleeting moment.

[utilitycaster]

The wildest part about people being mad on Imogen's behalf is Imogen herself understood Keyleth's position in spite of her own wishful thinking, helps acquire the blue flowers for her, was the first to acknowledge the Changebringer's help, and the first to say "I'm sorry" to Orym losing more of his people. I'm really baffled to read these "Orym is manipulative" takes and that it was dangerous of Keyleth to validate his anger. Do you think it goes back to the god stuff, or is it just Imodna?

I think a little of column A, little of column B, little of several other things. Since I've been on the "hey could we consider that Imogen and Laudna are adult women who are responsible for their own actions" train for over a year, the specific "Imogen can be mean-spirited as well as unintentionally insensitive" train since at least this past February, and the "Orym is correct and Bor'Dor signed his own death warrant by casting Vitriolic Sphere at a group of people who were not violent towards him" train for a month, let's break it down.

There are a small handful of people in the fandom who just really hate Liam. Per a very salty rant I put into my drafts shortly after 3x63 to describe this type of person, it is a small, scattered, bizarre group of people who for no apparent reason have decided to be foaming-at-the-mouth levels of furious because, as far as I can tell, a nerdy Gen X-er dad who went to Tisch is kind of corny sometimes. Anyway nothing he does will ever sit well with them so we can ignore them forever. Moving on.

Some is Imodna; I thought the whole issue of Imogen and Laudna as agency-less infants against a cruel world would have been ameliorated by them entering a canon relationship (one currently compatible with the 2013 Pinterest board vibes of fanon no less) but it appears to have not been the case. For more on this, see this still relevant post and, while I personally haven't ever written something up, there's just, again, a complete black hole of empathy from a segment of the fandom when it comes to any of the other characters; my post from this morning about Imogen as compared to Caleb touches upon it. You know the Far Side cartoon where a guy is talking to his dog and the dog only recognizes a small handful of words? I feel this is similar, like, they see that Imogen wanted one thing and Orym and Keyleth wanted another thing that wasn't even, as you point out, terribly incompatible, and then the "well if not thing Imogen wants and not 100% deferential to her then BAD BAD BAD" attitude kicked in.

But I do think, in the end, a lot of it does come back to if not the gods exactly, the idea that the Vanguard is, unmistakably, the enemy. They are not the revolution here to usher in a new era of rule by the people. Keyleth is not here to raze Vasselheim to the ground but to have a diplomatic discussion; neither is she here to grant any leniency to the woman who attacked Vax regardless of her connection to Imogen. And she finds the idea of a world without the gods, regardless of her own personal feelings, to be one to be avoided. [sidebar: I hope we get Matt on 4SD; I am wondering, after the one-two-three punch of Hevestro, the Raven Queen, and Keyleth all placing a heavy thumb on the scale opposing the Vanguard if he did not expect the party to be as conflicted about the role of the gods and is trying to wind up an argument that I think as of last episode reached the end of its useful life.] When you couple that with Orym's positive attitude towards the gods, that explains the animosity towards him.

The undermining of Orym's position over the past few episodes has always been one of emotion. First he was not objective - as if anyone else was objective! As if any moral decision is ever 100% objective! We all have biases! What kind of early 2000s atheist forum shit are you on to claim perfect rationality that conveniently matches the ideas that apparently came to you in a godless vision? It's insane. Then it was his grief; grief makes you irrational (unless you're Imogen grieving Laudna, in which case you are objectively right at all times, even as you shout down every other suggestion, beseech Laudna's first murderer, not a month later consider the potential validity of the her second, and try to to undo her immutable past) and remember, moral decisions must be made by the rational. Then it was his impatience (nevermind that Imogen has absolutely no patience). And now it's his anger, and he's apparently been manipulating the party the whole time by...having suggestions for the group which he mentions, and openly stating what he was feeling and what he wanted, and not intuiting that Laudna reawoke Delilah with his approximately no magical ability and then encouraging her to finish a job she had started herself. Because god Rational Objective Conceptual Being forbid women do anything; it is the role of the man to protect their fragile souls from all consequences.

Even more generally I think a lot of people- not just in this fandom, though certainly within this fandom - are terrified of anger. Like, they think they like it - they say they love barbarians (though rage is its own beast and I think very different from the anger Orym and Keyleth exhibit) but most of the discussion of them tends to veer more into angst, and most players of barbarians are often exploring emotions like grief, self-pity (as Ashton says), or frustration just as much if not more so than anger. I think a lot of people perceive anger as this awful thing inside them to be controlled and denied, or alternately to only be let out for whatever they think is a sufficiently righteous cause, and instead sit in an increasingly toxic stew of simmering resentment and conflict avoidance until they begin to think this is not just normal but aspirational - anything but that awful beast they call anger. It's not new in discussions of Keyleth, and it's not limited to her and Orym; I can point to nearly every single character who has had even the slightest of outbursts - even something as mild and controlled as Orym's whispered profanity or less - and I promise you there's been pearl-clutching for every single one of them.

Anyway, you make great points! One of the things that struck me about this episode and prompted my frustration and my post earlier today is that Imogen has changed. I think she's been mulling over Liliana since her appeals to her during the Key's activation were unsuccessful; she hesitantly told Chetney when he asked in Uthodurn that yes, if Liliana's death is necessary, she understands; and I think seeing the utter devastation and pain that was inflicted on Keyleth brought it into focus. She was much more open to FCG and the coin as well. And, you know, if one had embraced Imogen's moral ambiguity in the leadup to the solstice, and the possibility that she could betray the party, instead of shouting that down? Then one could see this as a beautiful moment of growth for Imogen. One could, in fact, if one was so inclined, attribute it to her new sense of ease thanks to her circlet, or even to her nascent romantic relationship. If one, of course, had wholeheartedly embraced Imogen's past moral ambiguity and the possibility of her betrayal.