#i do love how casually you can accept quests like this which are so obviously suspect

[helladventurers]

God, link doesn't give a Fuck, an eldritch being dwelling in the underworld asking you to retrieve its eyes so it can return to its former strength? Yeah sure I'll collect your eyes homie, as long as there is a reward idgaf :)

[sparrow-stunned]

dance of the crane | yandere shenhe headcanon

Finished the interlude quest and now I have yandere Shenhe brainrot. She has just so much yandere potential—on par with Scaramouche in terms of possessiveness, only less malicious and sadistic. The homicidal urges combined with her backstory is quite the blend for a yandere.

Content warning: yandere (obviously), unhealthy obsession/reverence, mentions of killing, homicidal urges. To be fair, Shenhe is her own content warning label.

On the one hand for Shenhe, because of the fact that her father's maniacal love for her mother is what caused her to be abandoned, she doesn't want to follow in his footsteps. Shenhe, already so emotionally detached, is indifferent when it comes to the all-encompassing romantic love revered in so many legends. Borderline hates it, actually, despite her usually emotionless state—though she doesn't know why she feels such strong vehemence.

When she sees couples pledging eternal love to each other, she just gets annoyed. Bad memories resurface, and violent tendencies burst to be released.

On the other hand, there's you. It's hard not to let the small part of her that's always longed for such unconditional love bloom into being. For all that she fears to feel love, she also yearns for it. It is a mark of the humanity that she is working so hard towards, after all.

Shenhe has always been a beast of instinct; it's how she survived all these years. She trusts her decisions, unless you state otherwise. So when these possessive feelings come up, she doesn't deny them. She won't deny herself when it comes to you.

Shenhe is fiercely protective. Your safety is of the utmost importance. Even the slightest of hurt will not go unpunished under her gaze. Like red-crowned cranes, Shenhe is also aggressive and territorial; any slight intrusion into what she deems hers is marked as an enemy which must be eliminated.

Oh, she might restrict her actions if you were to comment on how "unusual" certain behaviours are, as that's how she learns when something is socially acceptable. Ultimately, she is highly deferential towards your requests, knowing that her actions are... unpalatable to most. Your words are how she's gradually reintegrating into society, so she treats them with reverence.

But the thing is. If you don't notice her subtle glares toward the people that dare approach you, speak intimately to you, touch you when even she has not the privilege to do so—then you can't tell her to stop, can you?

You'd be in the middle of bartering with a merchant who's acting too friendly to make a sale, and Shenhe doesn't know why, but it makes her unhappy. So she gives a frosty stare behind you as you chatter on, and the merchant becomes paler and paler, until eventually, they realize how close they are to death when Shenhe casually twirls her polearm—to her, a habit for calming down; to them, a sentence of execution. At that point, they'll cut you off the conversation, pleading illness or simply agreeing to your terms. Anything to get the deadly woman behind you away from their stand.

You, on the other hand, are oblivious to it all. You'll even tell her, "I think you're my lucky charm, Shenhe! Every time I go to the market with you, I always get the best deals." This is a huge praise for Shenhe, because she's always believed herself to be a cursed child, especially with her 'curse of calamity'.

So these aspects of her violence goes unchecked—encouraged even. And if there's a couple of dead bodies left along the way... It's not as if you know enough to tell her to stop. She's trying to help rid you of nuisances, that's all. You were complaining about them; she's just finding a solution to the problem, no thanks even needed. She won't even speak of them to you, because it would just bring your mood down to hear about them.

It's not that she tries to hide these violent behaviours from you. She would stop if you ask her to. It's just that she performs them almost unconsciously when you're not looking, and thus, you also remain unaware. She's gained something of a reputation in Liyue when it comes to you. This is how all of Liyue Harbour knows to avoid looking at you for too long, for fear of inviting the crane's wrath.

[link4eva]

Kiro’s Mind’s Quest: Infatuation Play Translation Part 2 [CN]

Hey! Here’s Part 2 of Infatuation Play. Here is Part 1 if you haven’t read it yet.

Enjoy~ 💛

*Spoilers for future content below!*

[Chapter 4]

MC: It seems I’ve put too much salt in the seasoning….

MC: If it’s salty…. add more water!

Kiro: Haha. 

Kiro was amused by what I said, and he shook off a piece of beef and tasted it.

Kiro: Good to eat!

Kiro also gave me a piece, the evening light leaked in from the window, reflecting a small layer of fluff on his face.

In the steam, the spicy and delicious smell seemed to dispel the previously unremarkable smell in the house.

I took a sip of soda and brought up the topic from before. *Changed some wording*

MC: By the way, in addition to encountering the big challenge of an actor’s career, filming NG….

MC: Is there anything else that left an impression on you?

Kiro looked down and thought about it seriously.

Kiro: Does scaring a crying kid count? 

MC: Of course!

Kiro smiled when he saw the eagerness on my face to hear the story.

Kiro: This scene is also related to entering the character state.

Kiro: In order to maintain this state, I kept myself bored in the hotel room for a long time….

Kiro: Probably because of my routine, no one reminded me.

Kiro: Later, I didn’t know the exact time anymore. When I came out, I felt that I had been in the dark for a long time.

Kiro: I realized that I was a bit too immersed, so I went to buy a bottle of soda to take a break.

Kiro: Then I met a kid in the crew…. I didn’t do anything, he just saw me and then cried. 

Kiro’s voice was very low, and the hot pot gurgled.

I think of Kiro’s immersive performance on the screen, and then I dig a little deeper into what he said just now-- *Changed some wording*

It was as if he had a bitter fruit in his heart, and he desperately wanted to hide it from me. The more bitter it was, the stronger the taste.

In the end, the fruit still found its way into my heart.

I sniffed and couldn’t help joking.

MC: From another perspective, that kid got to watch a scene for free.

Kiro raised his eyes, and I continued with a smile.

MC: I want to watch the exclusive performance of the big star Kiro too!

MC: Thinking about it this way, I feel a little jealous.

I took his hand and his fingertips quivered slightly.

Kiro: Don’t you think I’m not doing well enough? As a professional actor, I shouldn’t be in this situation. 

I shook my head.

MC: Remember, you asked me before if there was anything interesting about this business trip.

MC: In fact, in the city where I was on business, there would be lively gatherings at night on the street next to the hotel.

MC: Looking down from the balcony, there are clusters of lights, and everyone sits on the steps and chats casually.

MC: When I saw it, I was thinking, “I must bring Kiro here next time. He will love the sparkling cider here.”

I looked at Kiro brightly. He seemed to be imagining the scene I described with slight waves in his eyes.

MC: I want to share with you all the good and bad, brilliant and lonely times.

MC: You can be imperfect, you can have lonely and dark moments because I will be with you. 

MC: We share each other’s lives. No matter what life it is, as long as we experience it together, it is enough.

Those blue eyes staring at me seemed to be lit by some kind of warm light for a moment, filled with soft emotions.

I paused and asked him softly.

MC: I remember that every time you acted in a play, you would bid farewell to them at the end.

MC: You said that you were lucky to participate in a period of their lives and experienced their emotions.

MC: So in the end, you have to bid farewell to the partners you have been working with….

MC: Looking forward to another time and space, they will continue their lives.

MC: Did you say goodbye this time?

Kiro looked at me and suddenly reached out and wiped the oil stains on my lips.

The boiling of the hot pot sounded and there seemed to be some fragments of emotions in his eyes that had melted silently.

He paused, turned his head and raised the bear cup on the table. He raised it in the air, the emotions in his eyes were clear and calm.

Kiro: Americano is still too bitter, I prefer to drink soda. 

Kiro: The hot pot made by Miss Chips is delicious. As long as you are with her, even the little things like walking your dog to the supermarket are worth remembering.

His gaze flickered over the neatly coded script on the sofa, and there was a sense of relief in his voice.

Kiro: What you didn’t find, I did.

Kiro: In the time and space I don’t know, you will definitely find what you want, and come back to shine on the stage again.

Kiro: Now, it’s time to say goodbye to you.

The starry sky is gentle, and the steam from the hot pot rises, almost like a response. The wind blows the curtains and the room is full of starlight. *Changed some wording*

We are both covered.

(Cut to the living room)

MC: What’s going on with Cello lately? She seems to be more irritable.

MC: Not only did she knock over the sunflower vase in the living room, but also bit her tail….

I pet Cello who was being held in Kiro’s arms and spoke tentatively.

It is said that the mood of pets will be influenced by the owner. Is Cello….? 

Kiro looked away with a guilty conscience. 

Kiro: Maybe it’s because the season makes everyone more irritable.

Kiro: [coughs] Just leave her be, save the sunflower first.

He found a new vase in the cabinet and handed it to me. I trimmed the sunflower’s branched and leaves that had been bitten by Cello.

Kiro sat cross-legged across from me and stared at me without blinking. I was a little embarrassed to be stared at.

MC: What are you looking at?

Kiro tilted his head at me and his blond hair swayed slightly. It was obviously a naughty action, but the smile in his eyes was very gentle.

Kiro: Of course I was looking at Miss Chips. 

Kiro: Looking at your actions, expressions, the flower in your hand, and…. 

Kiro’s tone was stretched out and I followed his gaze to see the light-coloured hairband on the side of my head.

The soft end of the hairband slid down my neck and onto my skin.

MC: KI-RO! 

I blushed for a moment and when I was hurriedly trying to retie my hairband, my hand was suddenly grabbed.

I looked up and under the frivolity of the sun, I didn’t know when Kiro got so close to me that I could see the creases on his lips.

His gaze fell on the end of my hair. He tucked the hairband lightly and winked at me.

Kiro: Miss Chips, let me help you.

Without waiting for my answer, he took a strand of my hair and maneuvered his hands dexterously, rubbing my earlobes with his fingertips which caused a burst of scorching heat.

The hairband is like a streamer that can be held in his hand, and he is the creator of beauty.

The mood is changing silently at this moment as we stay so close. *Changed some wording*

No matter how difficult the moments we encounter are, they will definitely be healed in the accompanying time.

After a while, Kiro held my face and looked at it with satisfaction.

Kiro: That’s it.

I reached up to touch the hairband and couldn’t help but smile. *Changed some wording*

MC: You even tied a small bow! 

Kiro: Of course, this is the exclusive mark of Kiro.

Kiro picked up the end of the hairband and looked down at me tenderly. His blue eyes were like a vast and boundless sea and I willingly indulged in it.

(Cut to morning)

The morning light was in the room and the sound of the phone vibrating awakened me from my sleep. I picked up the phone and pressed the answer button.

MC: Kiki? What’s wrong?

Kiki: Boss, the project you flew abroad to talk about has passed!

Kiki: Anna received the letter of intent last night, and the person in charge there said that he hoped the date of the contract signing could be confirmed today.

Kiki: Where are you now? Come and visit the company!

MC: Okay, I’ll be there.

I hung up and turned my head, Kiro’s sleeping face came into view.

He seems to be having a good sleep and his lips are slightly upturned, he looks particularly meek. *Changed some wording*

MC: ….

It looks like he is still a little sick. *Changed some wording*

The lack of sleep made my brain work a little slow, so I shook my head in an attempt to wake myself up a bit.

Just as I was hesitating whether to go, Kiro woke up with a hint of sleepiness in his eyes. He was startled when he saw my neatly dressed look.

Kiro: [cute sleepy voice] Is something happening at the company? 

(If you pick “No”)

Seeing Kiro’s still pale cheeks, I shook my head and smiled at him.

MC: Nothing, I was just talking to Kiki.

But Kiro looked at me and suddenly smiled.

Kiro: Miss Chips, you should go do more important things first.

Kiro: I will wait here for you to come back.

Seeing him look at me quietly, I nodded gently.

(If you pick “yes”)

I was conflicted for a moment and then nodded honestly.

MC: There is a little situation that needs to be dealt with, but….

Before I finished speaking, I saw Kiro stretch out lazily with a slight smile in his tone.

Kiro: I will wait for your return.

He looked no different from what I was familiar with. I hesitated for a moment and finally nodded gently.

[Memory Silhouette]

MC: Hahahahahaha! This episode is so funny!

I laughed so much that my cheeks hurt and I had to lean against Kiro’s arms. He opened his arms and caged me in them.

Kiro: Is the way I eat mustard so funny? 

I lifted my head and looked at him as he asked me. 

The sun was shining on us warmly through the French windows, Kiro’s milk fragrance also wrapped around the tip of my nose. I couldn’t help but squeeze his cheek with my hand.

MC: No, but I like it.

MC: Didn’t someone say that if there is a person who can keep you smiling, then he must be an important presence in your life.

MC: You make me laugh without even thinking about it, your existence turns cloudy days into sunny ones. *Changed some wording*

As if he had accepted my theory, Kiro no longer struggled with his expression about the variety show, so he clicked the button to continue playing. 

Kiro: Okay, I agree with Miss Chips. 

This variety show has Kiro as a guest appearance. When he participated in the show, he had not yet joined the cast to make a movie. The show was as bright as a little sun.

In the space between the advertisements, I quickly glanced sideways at the person next to me.

Over the past few days, I can feel his gradual relaxation.

It’s not that I’m always vigilant, telling myself that I have to be happy in front of him, but because when I’m with him, I can relax and smile.

I liked this relaxed and soft Kiro.

MC: But speaking of it, in this variety show, I see you in a way that I don’t usually see.

MC: Planting seedlings, bargaining with the owner of a small shop, and making mosquitos nests by yourself.

MC: So Kiro turned out to be a secret master of life?

MC: So when I was making homemade cranberry cupcakes, a certain superstar asked me to teach him how to beat the egg yolks?

After being questioned, Kiro gave a cheeky “um”.

Kiro: That’s because, in the cast, I need to play the image of SuperHero. This is my job. 

Kiro: But in front of Miss Chips, I can be willful and not so perfect, can’t I? *Changed some wording*

He looked at me with a smile in his eyes, like an afternoon orange soda full of refreshing taste.

MC: You said that…. I can’t refute it. 

Although I said that, I couldn’t help but laugh.

MC: But two people mixing the egg yolk batter together is always more interesting than doing it alone.

There was constant laughter on screen. I looked at Kiro who was always smiling on the screen and couldn’t help but lean into his arms.

His chin rested on my shoulder from behind and his warm breath brushed my neck.

It’s always a good time to need each other and be together. *Changed some wording*

MC: Next time, teach me how to make a mosquito net.

MC: Maybe in the future when we go on a trip, it will be useful.

Kiro: Okay, let’s make a big and beautiful mosquito net. 

MC: Huh? Why does it have to be so big?

Kiro: It can be used as an open-air tent. If you watch the stars at night, you don’t have to worry about being bitten by bugs.

I couldn’t help being amused by Kiro’s serious tone.

MC: Okay, let’s do it together.

Time is moving slowly and quietly, walking forward with a lazy pace. The lazy rest is close to the not-so-perfect Kiro.

Put together a cupcake with a honey-flavoured centre. *Changed some wording*

[Chapter 5]

When I had walked halfway towards the company, I decided to pull out my phone and call Kiki.

MC: Kiki, there are some things on my end that I can’t get away from. You can help me with the people from the other company and change the meeting to a virtual one.

MC: The contract has been sorted out, I will send it to them later. You are responsible for monitoring the online meeting.

Kiki: Mhhm, okay. Sounds good, boss. 

After temporarily solving the company’s problems, I returned to Kiro’s house.

In order to avoid disturbing Kiro, who might still be asleep, I opened the door very quietly.

But when I entered through the door, I saw Kiro sitting cross-legged on the floor with his back facing me.

Kiro: Cello, don’t move. 

A cat’s tail came out from his side, swinging back and forth uncomfortably, but was caught by Kiro in the next second.

Kiro: A few days ago, I didn’t play with you, which made you unhappy with me.

He was talking to himself, then sighed slightly.

Kiro: From now on I will play with you every day, but you are not allowed to bite your tail.

Kiro: If you bite your tail bald again, I will confiscate your dried fish!

Hearing what he said, I couldn’t help but laugh.

Kiro turned around when he heard the sound and when I saw Cello resting in his arms, I opened my eyes wide.

MC: You made a small flower for her bald spot.

A small flower made of pink wool is tied around Cello’s tail, which was probably taken from Kiro’s clothes. It covered most of the bald spot.

Kiro: Miss Chips, why are you back so soon?

Kiro was a little taken back, but because of my presence, there was an unconcealed smile in his eyes.

As I walked to Kiro’s side, I creased my eyes and opened my mouth.

MC: Because the witty Miss Chips changed the meeting to an online one, if it is synchronized with the time abroad, it will not start until the evening.

Kiro touched his chin thoughtfully.

Kiro: In other words, before the meeting, you still have a lot of time alone with me. 

MC: You can think of it like that.

Suddenly I saw the familiar sly smile in his eyes. I was stunned for a second as I realized something and then took a step back cautiously.

Kiro smiled innocently and brilliantly.

Kiro: Miss Chips can’t run away, you came back to me by “getting caught” by my net. *Changed some wording*

In the next second, he hugged my waist and his presence hit me overwhelmingly.

Cello jumped to the ground, licked her paws, and curiously tilted her head to look at everything in front of her.

Kiro led me to the sofa where I sat in his arms, my heartbeat still a little fast.

Kiro chuckled.

Kiro: Why does Miss Chips look like as if I’m going to do something bad?

His palm touched my bare back, arousing a shudder.

He looked down at me, but there was nothing else in his eyes other than like. 

I think of his unusual moments these past few days and my heart can’t help but feel moved.

The next second, I reached out and hooked my arms around Kiro’s neck. Kiro looked at me in a daze.

MC: Kiro, all the things that happen to you, I want to be the first person to share them with you.

I paused.

MC: Just as happiness and sadness are all the flavours of life we must experience;

MC: I want to be together in those bleak moments that must be experienced.

MC: Because--friction generates heat.

MC: So next time if you feel empty, let me stay with you.

MC: Let me fill your time.

Kiro’s eyes seemed to have a small sparkle of light in them after hearing my words.

After a while, I was pulled by Kiro and fell back into his arms.

Following his movements, my bag fell to the ground and a clear sound rang out. Kiro turned his head and glanced, leaning over and picking up a lipstick.

I reached out to take the lipstick, but Kiro grabbed my wrist.

He looked at me and suddenly put some on his lips slowly.

In the small and charming space, all his movements seemed to be slow and carefully planned, which made me suddenly think of the fragments I saw in the lens. 

Kiro: While eating hot pot, Miss Chips said that she regretted not being able to see my exclusive performance. 

He paused for a moment and gave a grin.

Kiro: Well now you can.

He raised his hand and the hot red in his palm brushed my hair and then letting it fall onto my back, bringing the smell of spices.

It’s like a light kiss.

I stiffened for a moment, only to feel that the spot touched by him was burning like fire, making me want to get closer.

MC: Kiro….

I muttered Kiro’s name softly. As if receiving some kind of response, he suddenly took my hand.

Then he lowered his head slightly and pressed his warm lips to my wrist.

Kiro: I’m here.

There was a warm touch from his skin and Kiro’s lips were still pressed against my wrist, but he lifted his eyes to look at me.

I blushed suddenly and wanted to lower my head and look away. The next second, I was firmly grasped with his other hand.

He held my hand and guided my fingertips past his lips.

His look was seductive, like a fairy falling into the world, unknowingly attracting me.

But perhaps, he knew it.

Kiro: Now I am sure that you have filled the most precious time in my world.

His blue eyes are as gentle as the sea and there is only a small me inside of them.

He looked at me and got closer, hot breath fell on the side of my neck accompanied by a soft voice.

Kiro: In fact, there have always been many temptations and difficulties on the way to becoming an actor.

Kiro: It’s a small boat called “Kiro”, sailing on the waves of the world. He often encounters danger, gets injured, and breaks.

The soft touch lingers from the side of my neck to my earlobe, and the breathy whispers fall on my ears very affectionately.

Kiro: But this one person, she found the boat on the boundless sea and repaired his damages.

Kiro: She then stayed on the boat and sailed the world with him to see glaciers and lakes.

Kiro: This person is called Miss Chips, and she is-- the beacon that guides me through the world. 

His voice is like falling petals; quiet and soft with the ultimate sincerity. *Changed some wording*

Kiro: In the play, Kiro’s emotions belong to the stage.

Kiro: But Kiro outside the play, his world, everything about him belongs to you.

The scorching temperature left my neck and he looked at me earnestly with undisguised emotions in his eyes, like the surging ocean tides.

I couldn’t help but hug his neck back.

MC: Kiro, you made me the best Miss Chips in the world.

MC: Let’s go to farther places together, see glacial lakes, and sail the world together….

MC: Nothing can make me leave your side.

The sunflower grows enthusiastically and his golden hair is soft and brilliant. The world is flourishing and beautiful, just like himself.

If I were Kiro’s beacon for sailing the world, then let me be that tower that illuminates him.

Because-- he is also the most indispensable part of my world.

End

[tallstars-rewrite]

Chapter 34

chapter list / previous / next

Recovery did come, slow as it was. Some days later, Talltail sat by the big glass window. Jake was curled up pressed against his side, snoring loudly. It still felt a bit strange that the kittypet didn’t have even a small qualm about letting a stranger into his home, and treating him as though they were clanmates their whole lives. Talltail certainly didn’t dislike it. It felt safer than sleeping alone, and even if the water the twoleg put down had an unpleasant metallic tang to it, at least he could be sure it wasn’t going to kill him. 

Another oddity he’d found in the den was the twoleg sometimes lit a small fire inside at night, in a little stone cavern in the sitting room, and somehow kept it contained. It was more than a little frightening at first, but also incredibly warm. It was his first sight of real fire. Talltail couldn’t help but be mesmerized at the rare opportunity to closely watch such a dangerous unpredictable thing, feared by all the clans, without having to worry.

 But that was about where the benefits stopped.

In the couple days he’d been there, he had also suffered getting slobbered on by a dog multiple times, and the twoleg constantly trying to stroke his fur. Once it had made the mistake of trying to pick him up, but Talltail had quickly made it clear that was not going to fly. He also had to deal with letting it take on and off the uncomfortable soft wraps and smearing his cuts with a foul smelling goo. The twolegs paws where clumsy and shaky. It made him long for Briarpaw’s much more gentle touch. I will never complain of the smell of herbs again, Talltail thought. Not that he’d get the chance either way. But however unpleasant it felt, he suffered captivity with as much dignity as he could manage. And his wounds did feel a bit better.

The twoleg came up behind them and crouched down, making strange high pitched noises at Talltail, a sound he noticed the twoleg only made at cats. Talltail ignored it, tail lashing when it had the nerve to start touching his back. He turned slowly with a searing glare.

“You are an ugly hairless lumbering fool. You smell of fox-dung. I’d rather sleep in the dirt place than breathe in your stench.”

The twoleg made a pleased crooning sound and went on stroking his fur. 

Talltail continued, “you have a kits’ senses and wouldn’t be able to find your own stupid ugly nose even though it’s attached to your face. You are lower than a worm, and I despise you and everything you stand for. You are too flea-brained to understand a word I’m saying, aren’t you?”

The twoleg meowed back at him. It sounded like garbled nonsense.

Talltail narrowed his eyes. “What is that supposed to mean? Are you mocking me?”

The twoleg meowed again. 

Talltail bit its paw.

Jake snored himself awake while Talltail still held one of its long digits in his jaws. 

“Are you getting along?” he yawned.

Talltail spit out the paw and the twoleg made an amused sound and lumbered away. “We are getting along great,” he said through gritted teeth.

“That’s good. You’ve only bit him five times so far, that’s much better than the last cat he tried to take in,” Jake purred.

“Your twoleg does not take hints very well.” Talltail replied, ears flat in annoyance.

“Well I never claimed he was wise. He’s really very fond of you though.”

“Then he truly isn’t wise at all."

Jake yawned and stretched “How’s your brooding going? Anything go by outside?”

“Nothing more than some birds,” Talltail sighed.

“Oh!” Jake said suddenly. “I forgot to mention...I had an idea about what you can do. My friend Nutmeg has seen lots of strays go through here in the past moons. There’s a chance the cats you're looking for were among them.”

“You forgot to mention that?”

“In my defense, there’s been a lot of other things to think about.”

“In which case,” Talltail stood. “I think I have stayed here long enough. My cuts aren’t bad. I can manage on my own without that terrible goo.

He expected Jake to argue, but instead he nodded. “I’d never expect you to stay in a house like this, even I find it a little cramped sometimes. A promise is a promise. Follow my lead and you can sneak out.”

Jake took a couple paces towards where the twoleg was sitting and let out a very loud yowl.

 “Hey! Time to open the door!”

 Eventually the twoleg grumbled, stood up slowly on creaking limbs, and shambled over to the side door. He looked down at Talltail and tried to nudge him back with his long hind leg. Talltail let out a small hiss. Who does it think it is, pushing me? 

Jake winked at Talltail. “Just be casual. Act like you don’t care.”

Talltail pretended like he was busy grooming his chest fur. As soon as the door was open, Talltail shot out faster than a hare, across the yard, and clammered through a gap in the fence. Jake squeezed after him a heartbeat later. The twoleg made a hooting sound, but Talltail was already out of sight.

He huffed in the fresh air as soon as he set paws on grass. Never had he been so relieved to feel it.

With a contented sigh of relief, he turned to dip his head to Jake. “Thank you for everything. I’ll think of you often for being so kind to me. You’ve more than repaid your debt.” 

Jake blinked at him. “It wasn’t just to repay a debt! And I want to go with you.”

 Talltail stared. “G-go with me? This could be really dangerous. I may not like your home, but you're safe here. Where I’m going isn’t, and who knows how long it will take. Do you even know how to fight?”

Jake puffed out his chest “I’ve been in a fight! I got into a tussle with an old stray once, sort of by accident, but I held my ground! See this scar on my ear?”

He turned his head to show off the very, very small nick in his right ear.

When Talltail didn’t respond, Jake gave a dramatic sigh of defeat. “Well, all right. I can’t make you take me. But be careful of the neighbor dogs. And the alley cats. And the rude twolegs. And the cars. The paths and alleyways can get really confusing if you don’t follow them all correctly, and you can end up turned around and running nose first into all kinds of danger. You know where to watch out for all of that, right?”

He was giving Talltail a very pointed look as he spoke. Talltail flicked his long tail in annoyance, but couldn't help looking out at the town with unease. This place was unfamiliar and completely strange to him, not anything his warrior training had prepared him for. Obviously, because warriors aren’t supposed to come out this far in the first place. 

It was hard to admit to himself after he’d been so determined to do this on his own that weaving through this loud foul smelling town made him nervous, and he didn’t even know where to start.

Jake had an amused glint in his eyes. “I know you’re on a super important mission, but if you want to accept this 'kittypets' help, I'd love to show you around.”

 Talltail eventually had no choice but to accept that maybe he did need a guide. For a little while at least.

Jake perked up immediately. “Great! Then I’ll take you to see my friend Nutmeg. You guys seem like you're a similar breed of paranoid, maybe you’ll get along. You can describe those cats to her, and we’ll decide where to go from there.”

 Talltail still wasn’t sure about this. He felt deep down that he really did want Jake’s company, remembering a time when it felt like such a relief to go see him. And he didn’t realize until after he left WindClan how empty it would feel to be completely alone for so long. But at least unlike back then, he didn’t have to feel guilty about seeing Jake because it was no longer a simple excuse to get away from his clan duties. But still... I came out this far because I needed to do this on my own, didn’t I? Why should another cat be bogged down with it?  

“This could take a while, Jake,” Talltail warned again as they walked. “Are you sure you don’t have anything more important to do?”

Jake’s eyes smiled brightly in the greenleaf sunlight. “I assure you, I have absolutely nothing better to be doing.”

***

Talltail followed Jake, leaping down off the fence into Nutmeg’s yard.

“Wait here, I know how to get her attention,” Jake said, trotting up to a tall glass opening in the nest. He began pawing at the window until a disgruntled looking tortoiseshell poked her head through an opening flap. 

Nutmeg pushed her way into the yard and regarded Jake suspiciously. “I haven’t seen you in a couple days. Is that weirdo still in your house?”

“Actually he’s in your garden.” Jake replied.

Nutmeg’s eyes bulged as she had apparently only just noticed Talltail sitting with his tail wrapped tightly around himself, trying not to look awkward.

“Um. Hi.” Talltail said.

The bristling tortoiseshell flicked her gaze from him back to Jake, not hiding her obvious unease. “Ah. I see.”

“I know, I know, you don’t like strangers in your garden, but I promise we’ll be gone quick. We just wanted to ask about the cats you’ve seen.” Jake looked back at Talltail. “Nutmeg keeps tabs on all the cats in the area, she sees everyone that goes by. Spying is like, her main hobby.”

“I am not spying, it’s a matter of safety. When I see dangerous looking strangers, the cats that go outside ought to know.” Nutmeg’s tail lashed and Talltail knew she was clearly still unhappy about him being there. He remembered suddenly, now that he’d caught her scent, that she was almost certainly one of the kittypets he had frightened not long after arriving.

“Right I'm er...sorry for scaring you before, I suppose.” Talltail muttered. Nutmeg simply flicked her tail in vague acknowledgement.

 Jake nudged her and she sighed. “Fine, I suppose I'm sorry for calling you weird.” She then added, quieter, “but what exactly am I supposed to think when a big stranger shows up covered in blood and talking to himself?”

“Anyway,” Jake interrupted before Talltail could respond, “his name is Talltail and we’re going on a quest to find a group of strays.”

“‘We’?” Nutmeg stared at Jake. "Why are you going?"

“Yes we, because we’re friends and I’m a good guide.” Jake retorted. Nutmeg looked very doubtful, which made Talltail a bit nervous. He hoped Jake wasn’t exaggerating his navigation knowledge, but it was too late to turn him down now.

“Well…” Nutmeg hesitated, “A lot of strays have passed by here. Who exactly are you looking for?”

Talltail did his best to describe the five cats. “The only one I need to find is the smallest of them, dark brown almost black, sort of long messy fur, one ear tip sliced off. His eyes are two different colors. Looks obnoxiously aloof all the time. It would have been a couple moons ago.”

“A couple moons ago, that’s not encouraging.” Nutmeg said. “But surprisingly, I think I know who you mean. They’d passed by here before. Made themselves very known, weird bunch, too friendly for their own good if you ask me. I remember because it was a little before I met Jake. Before him, they were some of the oddest cats I’d ever seen. And before you I guess. They stopped to talk to Quince, I think they mentioned something about staying in the big wooded park in the center of town. It’s supposed to be a big area with no cars, and there’s lots of food, and apparently housefolk will feed you too if you know the right ones to ask. I overheard them saying were going to stop traveling for a bit, I guess they just had a loss or something. Mind you, that was some moons ago, I don’t know if they’re still there, but that’s what they said last I saw them.” 

“Wow you remember all that? You’re positive?” Talltail asked.

Nutmeg sniffed, as if she were offended. “Of course I’m sure! I’m sure of every cat I see, especially weird ones.”

“Alright, alright. Do you know where this park is?” Talltail pressed.

“Um...well no, I have no need to go that far outside my house myself.”

“I think I know!” Jake piped up, “I haven’t been there, but I’ve seen it from a distance. We just have to cut through some alleyways to avoid the cars.”

“If you think it’s safe to do that…” Nutmeg narrowed her eyes, “Not every stray likes you, you know.”

“I’ll be fine. I know exactly where I'm going.” Jake nudged Talltail “See, aren’t you glad you have me?”

“Sure. We should get going though. Thanks for your help. As a reward, I promise never to come into your garden again.”

She snorted. “Actually, as my reward, you can try to keep Jake from doing anything fluff-brained.”

“I never do anything fluff-brained!” Jake purred as he turned with a flick of his tail. “Come on, no time to waste.” 

He scampered back up the fence and beckoned Talltail to join him. Jake was far too excited about the grim mission, and Talltail was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable about not giving him all the details. “You’re only going with me a little ways,” Talltail reminded him quickly. “Just to the park. Then I have to continue on my own.”

“Sure, sure, but let's get going! You’ve never seen a town before, I remember how intense it felt the first time I saw it, I’ve got so much to teach you!”

Talltail allowed himself a small purr of amusement. There was still a distance to go. No need to be a drag the entire way when Jake was being so helpful, right? As long as he didn’t slow down.

chapter list / previous / next

[senadimell]

Boromir for the character ask?

send me a character and i’ll list:

favorite thing about them: Honestly? His focus. He's a problem-solver. He focuses on whatever task is in front of him, and while he's the golden child, I honestly don't know if he'd be the best fit for Steward because he seems to be at his best when he's thinking about concrete solutions to discrete problems.

Oh! The other thing is that he evaluates the advice given to him for what it is, not based on the authority of the advisor. He’s not going to accept bad advice just because it comes from a trustworthy source, and he’s going to be honest about his thoughts. So he’ll trust and respect the advice of the council of Elrond, but not to the point where he doesn’t ask questions or question things that don’t make sense (I’m thinking about Caradhras here) It’s a good skill to have as the de-facto heir to Gondor, and it makes sense that he’s not in awe of elves or Gandalf and acts among them as a guest but also as an equal at least in political status, though his experience is vastly more limited.

At the same time, he’s not arrogant or haughty. He's a team player. He’s supportive of decisions for the most part, though where the ring is concerned, things get skewy. He’s not the kind of person to rub mistakes back in your face. He’s compassionate and understanding (which we see even in the way he treats Frodo as he strives for the Ring).

least favorite thing about them: Honestly Boromir doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I suppose his positive traits are also double-edged swords. Focusing more on the advice than the giver sort of has Feanor vibes? And you can see where his focus leads him when he talks to Frodo about why he wants the ring and how he would use it. He can see his corner of the world (Gondor) and his place in saving it (political, but primarily military leadership), and it’s his practicality, drive, and focus that the Ring exploits. He’s too busy thinking about what he must do to save the day that he misses the grander scheme (yet he’s doing it because he cares! he cares!).

brOTP: Um, Faramir, I guess. Though I guess it’d be kinda sweet if he’s got a brotherly relationship with Bergil. I can easily imagine Bergil hero-worshipping Boromir, and so I think it’d be sweet if Boromir did acknowledge him and know him by name.

OTP: none? look, I rarely ship and even more rarely out of canon.

nOTP: also none? Shelob? The Ring?

random headcanon: I dunno...

unpopular opinion: boromir has dark hair Sean Bean is an actor he’s not the only face

So I feel like there’s a bit of a structural problem with the LotR fandom. Characters are often written in pairs or as foils, and inevitably the comparison starts to turn towards “who’s better?” Then, if you don’t ship them, there’s a tendency to aggrandize one character’s virtues and minimize their flaws (which tends to happen everywhere), but then the comparison game starts. Because they have a paired character, the natural next step is to lionize your favorite by de-emphasizing the other character’s strengths and virtues (and sometimes also highlighting their flaws). (I’m not immune to this by far, btw, and am possibly about to engage in it.)

This happen the most with Frodo and Sam, but I think you also see it in Boromir and Faramir. Because obviously, in the books, Faramir is the golden child. Not in his father’s eyes, of course, but narratively speaking. And I have mad respect for him.

Most people don’t try and diss Faramir (because frankly. it’s hard. like, what are you going to say?), but there’s a tendency to downplay the fact that Boromir is his culture’s golden child, and Faramir...isn’t. Which isn’t to say Faramir isn’t beloved by those who know him, but his strengths are not valued in the same way that Boromir’s are. Faramir knows this. And given Boromir’s attitudes discussed above (how confidently he assumes his position in the world), I can’t believe he’s the 100% supportive, loving, sensitive, protective brother that fanon depicts him as. I don’t see how he can be.

Don’t get me wrong, I do believe the brothers love each other deeply. But growing up with siblings has taught me that it’s possible to love someone and yet be deeply wounded by them due to the casual and inescapable intimacy of your relationship? You can share more inside jokes and weird stories than anyone, yet you can never get away from how deeply they know you--not your thoughts, but who you are at home and who you were when you were seven and how you acted when someone broke up with you or what you did when your parents were furious.

You also know exactly how you match up against them, because you will always exist as a unit. And because your relationship is as natural as the lens  in your eye (you can’t imagine viewing the world without it), you forget about the other as a person and just say something and don’t think about how it hurts them. You can joke about this one thing and your sibling can carry around the hurt for years and you didn’t even know. And maybe the hurt isn’t even your fault--maybe they were just sensitive and you had no way of knowing, but the hurt doesn’t go away for the lack of malice. And even best-friend siblings are capable of malice towards each other at times.

So Boromir is good at things that Faramir isn’t, and Boromir knows it. He’s probably ribbed his brother in what he thinks is a playful way about when you’re going to shape up, or do X, or do Y, or why do you do that, anyways, or do you realize that’s a little unbecoming? maybe you should stop that. You know Father’s going to think that you’re... And he doesn’t realize how those slights can add up over the years. I do think he’s said things to his peers about his brother that have ended up hurting him. No matter how pure and nice he is, that sort of thing is unavoidable, and due to his cultural upbringing I don’t actually think he’d question the appropriateness of his attitude/acceptance and glorification of martial prowess at the expense of those who don’t have it in the same degree.

I think this passage is really telling:

For on the eve of the sudden assault a dream came to my brother in a troubled sleep; and afterwards a like dream came oft to him again, and once to me. 'In that dream I thought the eastern sky grew dark and there was a growing thunder, but in the West a pale light lingered, and out of it I heard a voice, remote but clear, crying:          Seek for the Sword that was broken:          In Imladris it dwells;          There shall be counsels taken          Stronger than Morgul-spells.          There shall be shown a token          That Doom is near at hand,          For Isildur's Bane shall waken,          And the Halfling forth shall stand. Of these words we could understand little, and we spoke to our father, Denethor, Lord of Minas Tirith, wise in the lore of Gondor. This only would he say, that Imladris was of old the name among the Elves of a far northern dale, where Elrond the Halfelven dwelt, greatest of lore-masters. Therefore my brother, seeing how desperate was our need, was eager to heed  the  dream and seek for  Imladris; but since the way was full of doubt and danger, I took the journey upon myself. Loth was my father to  give  me leave, and long have I wandered by roads forgotten, seeking the house of Elrond, of which many had heard, but few knew where it lay.' 

There’s so much you can read into this. Faramir has this dream, and he has it many times. We know he’s a lover of lore and no less devoted to his kingdom than Boromir, though his love is expressed differently. He is “eager” to heed the dream. So would I if I was having prophecy dreams all the time.

But is Faramir a member of the fellowship? No. Why? Because Boromir “took it upon himself.” He wanted to do it, he thought himself the better candidate (and Faramir the worse), and he argued his way into doing it against his father’s wishes. Coupled with Denethor’s later attitude towards Boromir, I’m inclined to believe Boromir was uniquely able to obtain this quest for himself because Denethor has a soft spot for him.

I find myself inclined to disregard Boromir’s account of Faramir’s motive (”how desparate was our need”), because it sounds like he’s justifying the appropriateness of his actions.  If it’s just about the great need of the kingdom, it’s nothing personal that one brother goes and the other stays. That view implies  that Faramir’s interest in this mission is primarily utilitarian in purpose, with a little academic curiosity--that is, it’s nothing personal. Doesn’t matter who goes! Not as long as we protect the kingdom! Which...just doesn’t square with his description of Faramir having repeatedly cryptic dreams that he wants to understand. I can almost guarantee that Faramir wants to know what those dreams meant more than Boromir.

It’s a bit tragic, because ultimately Faramir was more suited for the quest than Boromir (tramping about in the wilderness doesn’t seem to be a problem, he’s also a team player, and he’s much more willing to accept the power of the Ring/not downplay its personal danger, and would be able to see it in a bigger picture beyond just Gondor). Ultimately, though, if Boromir was the one to catch Frodo in Ithillien, the story would have a veeeeeeery different ending. (Gollum would likely be dead, and I can’t imagine he’d be inclined to just. let Frodo and Sam go free.)

I kind of view their relationship as a much less antagonistic version of Agravain and Gwalchmai from Gillian Bradshaw. (Agravain is more of a jerk than I can ever imagine Boromir being, and has a wicked temper). 

Also none of this is to say that I don’t think he’s not protective of his brother.

So a lot of words to say: I don’t think the Boromir and Faramir relationship is as uwu cinnamon roll as it seems in fandom. I think they loved each other, but I think Boromir did have a tendency to take what he wanted when he thought he deserved it and not give it a second thought, even when it was at the expense of his brother. Sure, he’d defend his brother night and day, but I expect him to be a bit of a jerk, be unaware of the extent of his behavior, and also see little wrong with it (the ring quest seems to have crossed a line, by the way he justifies it).

Still, they do love each other deeply and genuinely. It’s just a little more conflicted.

song i associate with them: Requiem, from Dear Evan Hanson. Not a particularly creative association (and I don’t associate him with Connor at all), but his death comes as such a shock at the beginning of TTT and brings with it so many mixed feelings due to both their relationship and the circumstances of his death. Nobody’s mourning is straightforward: not Frodo, or Denethor, or Faramir, or Aragorn, or Merry, or Pippin. His absense is woven throughout TTT and even RotK, in plot and in emotion and in theme.

favorite picture of them:

Don’t really have a favorite, but this one is nice.

The Sean Bean runners-up: one, two

[californiannostalgia]

Tangled the Series Character Analysis: Childhood Trauma POV

I can't believe Tangled the Series really created two incredible antivillains and threw them in direct contrast with the pre-existing golden couple. I love what the showrunners did with the main quartet, so I made a very subjective analysis post about it from a Childhood Trauma POV. (Spoilers, obviously.)

The Boys

The series' focus is on Rapunzel, and by association her direct opposite, Cassandra, so the boys get comparatively less screen time. But it doesn't take long to figure out that Varian is meant to be a parallel for Eugene—these are two people dealing with the absence of parental guardians, struggling to reconcile the lives they previously had with their changing ideals in relation to a less-than-perfect Father Figure.

They both respond to the helpless state of being young, alone, and powerless by trying to take back power in any way they can. Eugene reinvented himself and buried his desires for a family. Varian throws in everything he has into recovering what he lost, because he's a child and the best solution he can think of is to return to the familiar safety of his father's presence. A significant portion of his desperation is fueled by fear of his father’s disapproval, because as much as Quirin loves Varian, he wasn’t the dependable voice of support. Varian needs approval from outside sources, which was also Flynn Rider’s purpose in life, once upon a time. (Again, parallels.) 

Throughout the series, the boys' relationship with each other transforms from exasperated incomprehension to easy understanding. The process is hastened as Eugene lets himself realize he cares a lot about troubled kids who remind him of himself. He becomes aware that children should not be required to survive on their own like he and Lance had. Spurred on by his significant other's love and encouragement, Eugene is able to acknowledge the adverse affects of his childhood on his life and start moving on. His extending a ready hand to Varian is his process of healing. Though Eugene's first priority will always be Rapunzel, he truly wants to save Varian from the uncontrollable volatility of risky decisions because he knows that downward spiral intimately.

Of course, there is a difference between thieving from the rich and planning the destruction of a kingdom. We'll get to that later.

The Girls

Rapunzel and Cassandra are the biggest driving forces of narrative power in the show, and they are survivors of child abuse. Every one of the main quartet has Parent Issues, but Rapunzel takes the crown (figuratively speaking) with this one. She was kidnapped and groomed into a life-giving doll, and she was only able to escape her abusive adoptive mother through incredibly traumatizing means. For Cassandra, it was neglect, and even her loving adoptive father couldn't leviate the scars left on her childhood mind.

They're a classic case of Golden Child vs. Scapegoat, which is a common case seen in siblings raised by Narcissistic parents. When one child is "favored" more than the other, the kids experience vastly different childhoods, resulting in resentment that stems from their inability to understand each other. Rapunzel and Cassandra are both jealous of what the other had—Rapunzel wants Cassandra's casual, practiced ease with freedom and personal agency, while Cassandra wants the attention and respect that Rapunzel is given by the status of her birth. Because they're unwilling to speak candidly about the unique hardships of their childhood, what results is a series of miscommunications that put a strain on their friendship.

Cassandra and Rapunzel both want the other in their lives, but how they attempt to make that connection is very different. Cassandra wants to be a helpful, essential force in Rapunzel's life. Unfortunately, Rapunzel has been raised on the idea that when push comes to shove, no one will help her survive. Cassandra interprets Rapunzel's desire for independence as Rapunzel scorning the connection that Cassandra is attempting to create. Add in some manipulation from an ancient evil, and Cassandra decides she is done exhausting her emotions for Rapunzel.

Rapunzel, on the other hand, wants absolute honesty in her relationships. Gothel raised her on lies, so she spurns deception. But Cassandra knows the merits of protecting herself by holding her opinions in, which is where the misunderstandings occur. Rapunzel cannot trust someone who isn't completely forthright with her. She's tired of dealing with liars, and she grows afraid that Cassandra will cause her the same pain as Gothel did. But the thing is, Cassandra is not Gothel, and Rapunzel loved Gothel. She couldn't save Gothel, but maybe she can save Cassandra. It's not too late.

Rapunzel doesn't know when to give up on Cassandra because she is aware that she and Cassandra are similar people. Giving up on Cassandra would feel too much like giving up on her own hopes for a happy life. Rapunzel can't let Cassandra be unhappy. This princess cares too much, loves too hard. She never learned how to write people off because you can't survive a childhood like hers with that much cheer if you don't hang onto your optimism like a goddamn lifeline.

This is Rapunzel’s method of taking back power for herself: saving others. Rapunzel could have been Cassandra. Rapunzel is trying to believe she herself is worth saving—therefore, Cassandra must be worth saving as well. Rapunzel's significant other is giving her a stable source of love and support, but without a proper resolution to Cassandra's struggles—a final proof that despite Gothel's influence, they can both be happy—Rapunzel would feel incomplete.

The Golden Couple

At the end of the day, Rapunzel and Eugene are fundamentally good people. If it comes down to it, they would be unable to sacrifice the world for their own desires. (Eugene's thievery doesn't count as an expression of true desire because it was literally his method of survival. An expression of true, selfish desire for him might've been something like manipulation and abduction for the purposes of making people stay, but Eugene is not Gothel and he would never do that to anyone in a million years.) (On a side note, Rapunzel's selfish desire might've manifested in the abandonment of all duties and personal connections in favor of eternal exploration, or revenge towards a kingdom that failed to save her, or a thorough destruction of authority figures—but she loves people too much and would never be able to forsake her family.)

Life threw a lot of rocks at them, but these two came through it marginally well-adjusted. They affirmed their love for each other in a violent, unforgettable manner, which makes it easier for them to trust in each other's affection. Eugene would've been okay with never finding his biological father, just as Rapunzel had been okay with her biological parents' inability to protect her. They have no wish to punish the world for what they suffered. They’re content with who they are. They're just glad they made it, that they're finally allowed to love someone without being afraid. They're each other's saving grace.

The Antivillains

This is the difference between Hero and Antivillain: Cassandra and Varian are willing to punish the world for what happened to them. There’s a very faint line between justified retaliation and venting. In their desperation and anger, they cross the line, and they’re unable to stop themselves once they get going. Unlike the Golden Couple, Cassandra and Varian refuse to settle. They want what is owed. 

Also, they really, really hate themselves. (This is important.)

Varian believes Quirin is the ultimate source of affirmation. The fact that he lost his father by way of his own dangerous experiment, coupled with the fact that no one prioritizes his call for help in the face of national disaster, is enough to make him feel isolated from the world. Though he is burdened with a growing sense of remorse for his deeds, he doesn’t stop resorting to drastic, harmful measures to get his father back until he is forcefully stopped by betrayal from his allies. He finally makes the full transition from “antagonist” to “protagonist” when Rapunzel risks herself to save Quirin from the rocks. If Quirin could not be saved, there’s a possibility Varian might have stayed an antagonist, unenthusiastic though he may have been in his villainous role. As long as Quirin is trapped in those rocks, Varian remains the villain who put him there.

With Quirin safe, Varian allows himself to take huge steps in healing. He slowly rediscovers his self-worth, one that is separate from Quirin’s approval. Rapunzel—and by extension, Eugene—play the friendly, supportive role to Varian’s ingenuity, helping him along in his quest for self-acceptance. Varian still has trouble working through the heavily ingrained self-hatred, but he recovers enough confidence in his own judgment that he takes Eugene’s warning to heart and is able to install a safety device in his father’s helmet, just in case.

This is the Varian who meets Cassandra in the Tower that once belonged to Gothel. At this point in time, Cassandra has been manipulated into thinking of herself as weak and unimportant in comparison to Rapunzel. Her adoptive father, much like Quirin, was too gruff to be vocal with approvals. Her efforts have not been met with successes. She feels like a failure, and she hates feeling like a failure. This is Cassandra’s method of taking back power: by turning herself into someone unforgettable. If she can make something of herself, she’ll finally be able to prove Gothel wrong. She can be just as special as Rapunzel, if she’s given the chance. She wants that chance.

Similar to Varian, Cassandra doesn’t stop her downward spiral until her supposed ally and mentor betrays her and forcefully takes her power away. Only when there are no options left does she allow herself to admit that she was wrong. She is then rewarded for her honesty with Rapunzel’s love and trust. Armed with a new confidence, the sisters vanquish the evil together in an epic showdown that will long be remembered. Cassandra finally gets her dramatic hero’s tale.

Rapunzel and Eugene have an internal compass that lets them make snap decisions. They don’t have the healthiest self-esteem, but they can at least stand by what they think is right. Comparatively speaking, Cassandra and Varian have terrible self-esteem. They don’t trust their own judgment and are heavily influenced by outside forces. Without the constant barrage of trust and affection from Rapunzel, who is akin to a blazing sun when it comes to personal loyalty, these antivillains might never have reached their redemptive ending. They wouldn’t have been able to let go of their twisted priorities without outside influence. Can’t blame them for it, though.

It’s no surprise that Cassandra and Varian are relatable to many people. Who wouldn’t want to reclaim what was taken from them during childhood? (Of course, the problem occurs when you start hurting others to reclaim what you lost.) Their journey is a different kind of vulnerable from Rapunzel and Eugene’s journey, and it’s extraordinary in its detail. This show is essentially a long exploration of the various ways a parent can mess you up and the coping methods of kids who want to become more than their past, which is totally up my alley of expertise. I’m grateful I got to watch them grow taller than their trauma.

Finally, here’s a parting gif of Lance, because I love him and he’s a well-adjusted ray of sunshine. We all wish we could be as mentally stable as Lance—the main quartet included.

[gallavictorious]

Random question, but do you have any thoughts about Mickey and his relationship with anger? I think people who are perhaps more casual fans of the show (or just not big fans of his) think that Mickey's major character trait is anger, because he gets annoyed easily and doesn't suffer fools gladly (and obviously scenes like chair debacles 1 and 2), but I don't think it's that simple. Responding to anger in unhealthy or violent ways is sort of a running theme through this show and something I've been thinking about in regard to a lot of the characters lately, not just Mickey (though he does fit the theme). Was interested in seeing if you had any thoughts 😊 Do you think Mickey is the most angry/most violent character?

That’s a very interesting question, nonnie, and not one I'd really considered before. I'll preface this by saying that to make a proper and grounded comparision, I'd need to watch the whole series again and consider all the instances of anger and violence displayed by all the characters, and since that's not going to happen right now this will be a few random notes on the topic rather than a thorough analysis, and I'll focus primarily on Mickey himself rather than Mickey in comparision to others. Okay?

Okay. Now, as far as anger goes, I'd argue that Mickey's relationship with it is the same as his relationship to most other emotions, i.e. he doesn't usually bother to quell or hide it. I don't think this is so much a result of him struggling with affect regulation (though there's probably some of that too, with him as with almost all the other characters) as it is of him just not giving a damn about what other people think. So what if it's not socially acceptable to curse people out or kick down a sign if you get a little pissed? Mickey doesn't give a fuck; if he feels something, he's going to express that, and if you've got a problem with it, that's your damned problem.

That said, there are certainly emotions that Mickey sometimes hides and struggles to express, especially in the past; vulnerability and tenderness comes to mind. (The one emotion Mickey regularly feigns is indifference, primarily pretending not to care about Ian or what Ian does when we know that he actually cares quite a lot.) As much as Mickey is naturally emotional and expressive, he is still shaped by his enviroment, and growing up the way he did anger would have been a safe emotion for him to show. While stoicism is a stereotypical ideal for men, anger is still considered pretty manly and potent; a sign of strenght rather than weakness. I can see him leaning into that, and into other acceptable emotions, a little extra because he is an expressive person, and this allows him an outlet. At this point, I think that's become less of an issue but remains a habit–and now that Mickey doesn't worry about people finding out that he's gay, he's even less concerned than every about what people outside of his circle might think of him.

So, I wouldn't say that Mickey is angriest character, but I would say that he might be the one least prone to suppressing anger or putting up a level front just to please others or be polite. In season 11, which is the first time we've seen a Mickey that, arguably for the first time, feels comfortable and free and safe, he is remarkably happy–and he doesn't bother to hide that either, not even when his glee might seem inappropriate.

Turning to violence–and I do seperate the two, because while violence can often serve as an expression of anger, it can also serve many different purposes, and so you can't necessarily equal most angry with most violent–you are quite right to note that responding with violence to anger is something we see with many of the characters. As just mentioned, violence can serve many purposes but for most of the people on the show, I'd argue it's a way of communicating emotions (primarily anger) when other means of expression are deemed insufficient or too hard. They get angry or hurt; they lash out and punch someone or trash a car–given how often this happens and with as many of our mains as it does, I think it's fair to say that violence is highly normalized in the cultural sphere the characters inhabit. More so with the Milkoviches than Gallaghers, though, and I think it's interesting to note that while the Gallaghers mostly fall back on violence as a response to extreme emotions (which is learned behavior; seeing violence as a possible option when very upset is not given), the Milkoviches tend to do that and be very comfortable with using violence instrumentally, to defend their status and achieve their goals.

Over the course of the show, we see Mickey hit people (well, mostly Ian) when he's overwhelmed with hurt–rather than anger–but also to enforce the rules of his business (going after Mr. Patel), to defend himself or others against physical attack (going after his dad and the army police), to get his way (slamming the head of that bartender into the bar in his quest for Ian), to position himself and defend his position as a criminal badass that you shouldn't cross (beating up Lip in Ian's stead in season 1, wanting to go after Kev after being robbed by him, wanting to get up in Jesús' face in 7x11; sure, there's anger in these instances too, but I'd argue that anger is not the only or primary motivator), and because he's getting paid to (going after cousin Patrick).

Actually, though there are instances of Mickey reacting with violence to anger, that doesn't happen nearly as often as him reacting with violence to hurt or him using it instrumentally. Possibly because Mickey is actually quite good at expressing his anger in other ways; he doesn't often need to resort to violence for that? At least not violence against other people; chairs, signs, and Amazon boxes are all fair game, though. (But in all those instances, I'd argue that the anger is secondary to frustration and, again, hurt/insecurity.)

To summarize, I don't think it's fair at all to say that Mickey is the angriest of the characters, but he is very comfortable with utilizing violence for a number of reasons, and I think that out of our mains he might well be the most violent. That said, that is by no means his defining characteristic; Mickey is hell of a lot more than a violent thug, and to be honest and as I've noted before, it's the juxtaposition of him being genuinely a pretty rough (and not always very good at all) person and him being capable of such devotion, love, caring and tenderness that makes him so compelling. Complexities, baby–we love to see them!

I did really love this ask and had a lot of fun thinking about it, but I did struggle somewhat to organize my thoughts on the topic, especially since I didn't want this to devolve into a ten page treatise on the psychology and cultural construction of anger and violence, so I do hope this made some sort of sense. As mentioned, it's not a thorough analysis but rather a collection of stray thoughts on the subject. A starting point for further discussion, perhaps, if anyone else would care to chime in?

[warsofasoiaf]

Character Analysis: Jon Irenicus

Irenicus is a fun villain, and I think nailed one interesting element of writing down, that of bringing down the villain’s threat in an interesting and believable way. The hero typically grows in power in any story, not just in a game where your progression is literally your XP, but what the villain does, how they grow, is also interesting. If the villain is more powerful than the hero, and also does things to grow and learn, theoretically the villain should still be wrecking house. BG2 wove this into the story itself, where the more you learned about Irenicus, the less menacing he became, culminating into where he was arguably your lesser at the end: he was powerful but only aping what you were. 

Obviously, spoilers for BG2 abound.

Baldur’s Gate II introduces us to our villain almost as a cold open. Fresh off the high of defeating Sarevok, you leave Baldur’s Gate after being pressured to leave by “dark forces” and by those who suspected that you shared similar heritage to Sarevok. Seems a bit odd, honestly, to oust the Bhaalspawn with suspicion given that during the course of Baldur’s Gate I, you saved two of the Grand Dukes. It’s certainly understandable that folks would fear your heritage and you’d want to move on to greener pastures, but something more than a 3-minute cut scene would have probably set the scene better.

However, this opening, and the ‘cutscene’ that follows gives Irenicus a grand initial reveal to the player. This guy is an ultra-powerful wizard, and he speaks with a clinical detachment as he states: “It’s time for more experiments.” It’s a wonderful opening to illustrate exactly what you’re dealing with. He’s clearly interested in your godly soul, and exploiting it to some unknown purpose. What is unknown, as he gets called away by some unspecified intruders by a golem. In the next scene, magical traps are set off as an unspecified Shadow Thief gets disintegrated. Story-wise, this serves no purpose, it’s purely meant to be a way to show off the new spell effects and other cosmetic changes to the engine from Baldur’s Gate II, with the disintegration dust and the screen shaking. But it does help illustrate the power level that Irenicus is throwing around. Save-or-die spells were relatively rare in the lower level of Baldur’s Gate I, even Semaj, Sarevok’s mage companion, wasn’t firing off disintegration willy-nilly. Throwing around disintegration spells clearly shows that Irenicus is a new high-level baddy. Later we see that he killed characters from Baldur’s Gate I off-screen, Khalid and Dynahier, two of the three sets of paired companions from BG1. This gives their partners reason to join in with the player character, but it also serves to show his power; Irenicus is such a bad dude that he can wipe your party before the game starts, like he was getting coffee. It might be a cruel cut, but that’s its intent, to make the player character mad at the villain, to want to punch his smarmy face in.

Commensurate in the danger of Irenicus is the need to find out what’s going on. Irenicus clearly knows something about your godly soul and so you want to find out what he knows. Even for an upstanding lawful good character, growing in power means finding a way to effect good on a larger scale, and perhaps to overcome the evil in your tainted blood. After all, no matter how good you were in Baldur’s Gate I, you still were an incredibly powerful killer. Sure, most if not all of them were bad dudes, Mulahey the iron ore poisoner, the bandits of Cloakwood, the Iron Throne and their plans to take over the Sword Coast. But chaos and destruction follow in your wake, and that chaos undoubtedly would hurt innocent civilians; Saradush in Throne of Bhaal is clear of that enough. Even just knowing more about what is going on could better prepare you for the next Irenicus or the next Sarevok.

When you go through the starter dungeon (another piece of game design, you are being tutorialized but the pastoral instruction of Candlekeep makes no sense for someone who already had an adventure), pieces of the man start to fall into place. He holds a bunch of captive dryads as concubines to remind him of someone he lost. He keeps an immaculate bedroom for a companion that is never there, with an alarm ready to dispatch the golems to kill any who cross the threshold. There’s a woman that was in his life that is no longer there, and the loss pains him, or at least, it seems that it should. Chatter with Imoen and the dryads show that this mystery man is trying to elicit feelings that he had lost, and that’s an entirely different case of worms than pining over a lost love. There’s some element of almost-unwilling psychopathy to these actions. Other hints in this dungeon illustrate this as well. His servants, discarded in vats and forgotten about entirely, would at first evoke classical evil overlords casually disregarding their own subjects. He’s almost all of the way there, but there’s enough there that the player is suggested that there has to be something more to it than that. He does seem to have some sort of sociopathy to him, where people are objects that he can find fascinating but he has no empathy. We see this later with Wanev, who Irenicus spares solely because he was hit by a spell that left him a lunatic, which Irenicus found funny, the administrator of a jail for the insane now rendered an insane patient himself.

He is powerful though, that much is clear when you break out of the starter dungeon. His display of magic collapsed part of Waukeen’s Promenade, and when the regulatory magical body of the Cowled Wizards comes to shut it down, Irenicus is capable of swatting mages like they were mosquitos. Just like the Shadow Thieves that he had been fighting, Irenicus seems more annoyed at the interruptions than any physical threat posed by his myriad foes. He’s definitely a powerful wizard, and when he finally submits to the Cowled Wizards, he does so clearly as their superior, dragging Imoen along with him. It’s fairly plain from a game design perspective what Irenicus is doing; he’s going to Spellhold so you have to get there. Good characters want to rescue Imoen, evil characters want to interrogate him to unlock the power in your blood. Either way, the player character is given a goal, and Irenicus disappears physically from the story for the moment.

He isn’t absent though. In your dreams, Jon Irenicus waxes philosophical at the player character, evoking thought-provoking questions. He explains the paradox of your existence of being born of murder, given life from the act of taking life. He speaks about accepting the gifts that will be given to you, regardless of whether or not you want them. These dream sequences are clear upgrades in quality and presentation from the spoken-dialogue text boxes from the first game after you beat major milestones. David Warner does a great job here in delivering Irenicus’s lines, he feels like a evil mentor speaking about philosophical topics with the same detachment that he tortured the player character with in the opening. While we find out later that these dreams aren’t sendings from Irenicus but rather parts of your character’s godly subconscious, they suggest to the player going through Chapter 3 that Irenicus does indeed know a hell of a lot more about you and your godly blood, keeping the player interesting in finding out exactly what it is you need to find out. The other quests in Chapter Three don’t have much to do with Irenicus, aside from some random events with the guild war in Athkatla at night, where the player will find out pretty quick that one side is powered by vampires, the level drain and click-dialogue of “your blood is rather inviting” isn’t exactly hiding that there be vampires engaged in a secret war with the Shadow Thieves. Even then, it’s tangential. You knew the Shadow Thieves were attacking Irenicus, which suggests at least some level of camaraderie with the vampires, but as we saw with the deep dwarves in Irenicus’s lair, he doesn’t care about followers, and they might simply be disposable assets if anything at all. If you want to know about Irenicus, you’re going to have to get it from the man himself. 

Of course, as befits a high-level mage, Irenicus breaks out of the prison in a cutscene, kills the Cowled Wizards and goes back to whatever unsavory plans he thought up for Imoen, teleporting into the lobby and chewing the scenery with his “I CANNOT BE CAGED!” speech, reinforcing his position as the central big bad and confirming the Cowled Wizards as mere obstacles. This part of his plan has been made clear. Far from the meddling Shadow Thieves and Cowled Wizards, Irenicus can continue his experiments on Imoen in Spellhold, and it falls on the player character to go there and end it. Irenicus, of course, knows this too, and he makes sure he has contingency plans to deliver you to him. I’m of three minds on this. On one, he’s so powerful it seems that he is so powerful, and Amn so large, that plenty of these isolated areas within the continent would service just as well for Irenicus’s lair. Why waste time with all of this blah-blah-blah and just take what he wants? It’s not like teleport spells are beyond his ken. On the other hand, it’s a good way to break up into the freeform quest design that Chapter Three gives, offers the chance for your characters to level up and get cool gear, lets you rock the stronghold quests which definitely let you feel your class and increase replay value, and the idea of the forbidding wizard in the island lair is an excellent backdrop. On the third, it’s in-character for an immortal mage to have plans within plans, even to the point of complexity addiction, although his conduct afterward sort of torpedoes this idea. 

That is, after he recaptures you, he immediately goes back to work to his experiments, and after another trippy dream sequence with Imoen, you find his plan. His goal is to absorb your divine soul, taking it for his own. He doesn’t explain anything more, but now that he has you, he discards you just as he has so many others. Telling his sister Bodhi to dispose of you is what keeps him from being someone like the Riddler, since he’s actually going for a proper smart villain play and killing the soulless husk he leaves behind just in case he pulls a protagonist move and comes clawing back for his stolen soul. It’s Bodhi’s instability, her desire to hunt you brought on by her vampirism, that keeps you alive. After the player character becomes the Slayer, Bodhi tells Irenicus, but true to his condescending nature, he simply...ignores the PC, writing them off as someone who is going to keel over any second due to their lack of soul, completely oblivious to the fact that Bhaal’s avatar was the Slayer, and it’s clear that something is replacing the void that he left within you. The PC must effectively turn that dismissiveness against him, by releasing the imprisoned mages within Spellhold, from the powerful but mostly harmless Dili to the megalomaniacal Tiax. Yet this hard-fought battle does not end with Irenicus’s death and your victory, instead Irenicus goes to pursue his other, as-yet unknown goals while he sends another band of cutthroats to die at your hand. 

Yoshimo is sort of my feelings on this Irenicus’s Spellhold plot writ small. As powerful as Irenicus is, he really doesn’t need Yoshimo, not if he has Sarmon Havarian and so many others. Yoshimo shows up in the starter dungeon, and is useful if a bit obsequious in a “who me?” sort of fashion. He doesn’t have a really good reason to stay with the party from a story reason that he gives you. He could have said: “Hey, thanks for getting me out. Deuces!” Yoshimo’s geas gets him to want to stay with the party, otherwise he’s dead. In that sense, it makes sense for him to want to be with the group. And as the only thief who gains levels aside from the absolutely annoying Jan Jansen, he’s useful for dealing with annoying traps, because reloading a game because your main PC tripped a trap and got petrified is certainly frustrating. Game mechanics though, interfere with this. You as the player character have control over the six-person party and if you want Yoshimo to be there, he’ll be there, and if you don’t, he’ll sit in the Copper Coronet, geas be damned. He’ll stand right there until you go back in after the Underdark chapter, in which case he flops over dead and hardly anyone cares. That’s a system engine limitation certainly, but it’s remarkably clumsy. What is good though, is Yoshimo’s regret during this. He knows he has to betray you and is forced to do so, and he genuinely likes you. The writing that happens is crisp, Yoshimo truly does apologize and Irenicus backs up his dismissive assholery by telling him to shut up. When Yoshimo confronts you in Spellhold, his writing is crisp. “No redemption, and no second chances. My heart to Ilmater.” He fights you and goes down swinging (which was annoying the first time I played because he had the Celestial Fury +3). And you can actually take that heart to Ilmater, occupying a valuable inventory space through the next chapters until you can reach Waukeen’s Promenade again, where you can choose to forgive him or not, but give the heart to Ilmater either way. It would have been saccharine to restore Yoshimo, but this way, I feel, is more powerful in a world with such powerful enchantments to see the effects on the people whose lives it ruins. So the game can be clunky at parts, and Irenicus can be as well, but there’s true craft and joy in it.

Back to Irenicus though, we get the sense of more to him when we see the intro splash screen for the next Chapter. Making a dark bargain with the drow, we see that they have captured surface elves, one of whom immediately refers to Irenicus as Joneleth, suggesting a backstory far deeper as Irenicus immediately resorts to killing the prisoner after being the one to suggest interrogation instead of immediate execution, a lashing out that seems out of character for the clinically-detached evil villain we’ve been coming to know. The backstory is clear in the Forgotten Realms, the dark elves and surface elves are mortal foes and anyone who is known to the surface elves to ally with the dark elves is a great betrayal. As the PC goes through the Underdark and comes out, they are captured by the surface elves. Through a conversation with Eldoth, it can become evident that the surface elves know more than they are letting on, such as when they are the ones who suggest holy water and stakes to fight Bodhi, despite not knowing anything about either one of them. After you slay Bodhi and restore Imoen’s soul to its rightful place, you can call Eldoth out on it. Irenicus is “the Shattered One,” an exile of the elves, and it’s here that Irenicus’s story becomes apparent.

Irenicus was a powerful wizard and lover of Queen Ellesime named Joneleth. Yet in his heart, Joneleth yearned for more power and sought to take the essence of the Tree of Life, the lifeblood of the city of Suldanesselar, for himself and Bodhi. This dark ritual nearly killed many that existed within Suldanesselar, and so Joneleth and Bodhi were punished, stripping their elven nature and immortality away from them, leaving them with a mortal lifespan, thus Joneleth became Jon Irenicus, the Shattered One. Bodhi sought to become a vampire to transgress the mortal years she had, but Jon had felt that it degraded her to that of a high-functioning beast. Irenicus’s scheme was far more grandiose if also possessing an elegant simplicity: he lost an immortal soul and so he needed to take one for himself. The Bhaalspawn was the perfect choice, powerful enough to defeat Sarevok and awaken the power within, weak enough to be captured and have the divine soul snatched away. With his stolen soul freshly acquired, Irenicus now looked to the second part of himself, to revenge himself on the elves. The dark elf invasion ultimately failed, helped out by the PC butchering the leadership of Ust Natha, but Irenicus is still going with golems and summoned demons to destroy the city, usurp the power of the Tree of Life, and complete his long ago schemes. 

I... I do not remember your love, Ellesime. I have tried. I have tried to recreate it, to spark it anew in my memory, but it is gone... a hollow, dead thing. For years, I clung to the memory of it. Then the memory of the memory. And then nothing. The Seldarine took that from me, too. I look upon you and feel nothing. I remember nothing but you turning your back on me, along with all the others. Once my thirst for power was everything. And now I hunger only for revenge. And I... WILL... HAVE IT!!

When confronted by Queen Ellesime, she even asks if there was any part of him that remembered the love he had for her, and the PC sees that it’s her that was in his mind for the beautiful bedroom way back in chapter one. It was almost certainly her that Irenicus thought of when he was with his dryad concubines. And when she poses that question, he answers with the above quote, that he feels nothing. While it seems like this is a loss of depth, that he’s just a flat character, I don’t think this is the case. Irenicus had the chance to change, for self-reflection. Instead, he remembers it as all the others turning their back on him, without any recognition that his schemes nearly killed them. It’s the classic abuser mentality, how dare you make me do these things to you. When his victims tried to defend themselves, he lashed out and remembers only their ‘cruelty’ to him. It’s this that makes Irenicus, for all his great arcane might, so small. Where before he was this intimidating figure, now he’s a petty man, and fittingly, it’s here that you can kill him. Temporarily, at least, because there’s still one more dungeon. Irenicus and you are still battling for your divine soul, and after a few self-reflective quests of your own, you duel Irenicus, who dies pitiably, torn to shreds by demons as his power fails him. It fits the heroic and thematic heft of the arc. As you grow in power, Irenicus diminishes in threat. He was your torturer, an inhuman menace, then he became just a man, torn apart by tiny demons that you probably could take down by the truckload. 

There’s good things to learn here. Irenicus isn’t a super-unique villain, although some of the villain tropes are personalized for the sake of the Baldur’s Gate story specifics. But he does his job admirably. David Warner’s voice work, and the special effects (pretty good for when the game came out in 2000) really was able to sell Irenicus as an enjoyable villain. 

Thanks for the suggestions, Anons who were looking forward to this.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

[allegra-writes]

Take me home (A Far from Home fix it)

Peter Parker x Stark!reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut, Porn with Plot

The request:

Hi! I love your fics so so much! Can I get a “Far from home” fic about that scene on the tulips field only instead of Happy being the one to pick up Peter is the reader and Peter is still too shocked cause of the hallucinations and you have to convince Peter that your real someway and maybe smut happens? Pretty please with a cherry on top?

MY MASTERLIST

The deafening noise of the Jet landing was music to Peter’s sore ears -he was sore everywhere actually, being hit by a train would do that to you- but the vision of you coming out of the plane was what finally brought him to his knees.

When he had called mister Stark a couple of hours before to come pick him up like the lost little boy he felt like, the more logical part of his brain knew he wasn’t going to come flying to his rescue in his IronMan armor like so many times before. In fact Tony Stark was never going to wear an armor again. His mentor had survived the final snap, but just barely, losing his arm and shoulder in the process, and the damage to his heart meant that he would not be able to be Iron Man anymore.

But somehow it had never occurred to Peter that he would send you instead. Watching you come down those steps, what occurred to him was that nobody had ever looked so good in a dress as you did right then in your red wrap dress, coming his way in that field, surrounded by a thousand colorful tulips, flower petals falling all around you. It was unreal, you looked like a dream, a fantasy… or a hallucination.

“Stop!” He demanded from his place kneeling on the ground, stopping you on your tracks. You took in his disheveled state, bruises covering his face and undoubtedly his body too, eyes red and swollen from crying, and the urge to run to him hit you double but you obeyed. 

“Y/n? Is that really you?”

You frowned,

“Am I… Of course I’m really me! Peter what is going on?”

He seemed almost afraid of looking at you, avoiding your eyes as he implored,

“Then tell me something only you and I would know. Please, if you’re really her, prove it. I can’t stand another nightmare, I just can’t…”

“The night of the day we met, we kissed at the Eiffel tower,” You answered without skipping a beat.”

“No!” He interrupted you, frantic, “No, I told him that! Something else, tell me something else!”

You casted a wary look at Happy standing only a few yards away from you, but complied anyway,

“A couple of weeks ago, we snuck out of your birthday party and made love on the lake shore under the stars, while everyone was looking for us to cut the cake” You ignored Happy’s scandalized “YOU DID WHAT?” and went on,

“Pepper actually found us in the middle of it but she didn’t tell on us. She said it would be hypocritical to let Tony to lecture us when…”

“When she had walked in on him on the same situation a hundred times” Peter finished for you

“Yeah…” You said weakly. Peter sighed in relief, and he was the one to finally run to you. He held you a little too tight, burying his face on the crook of your neck and breathing you in. No hallucination would ever be able to replicate the soft perfume of your skin or the feeling of your body in his arms. He

couldn’t help the chocked sob that escaped his throat,

“You were dead” You could feel his tears falling down your shoulder, his words muffled against your skin, “You snapped your fingers and it killed you, it burned you up…”

“But it wasn’t me” You tighten your arms around his shoulders, trying to offer him some comfort, “That was my dad, remember? He used the glove and defeated Thanos, and he almost died, yeah, but you saved him…”

“We saved him,” he corrected you, like you were expecting him to, “You and me and the doctor… we- we saved him”

“So it couldn’t have been me, see?” You reasoned.

“No- I know that” He accepted, “It’s just-… it was so real! I thought I had lost you…”

“No, I am real” you pointed out, “and I am here with you”

That seemed to finally do the trick and he leaned back to look into your eyes, letting go of you just to cup your face with his hands.

“Yeah,” he let out under his breath, a little amazed, “yeah, you are”

You didn’t know who initiated the kiss, which one of you was the first to cross the few inches that separated you, and honestly, you didn’t care. Not with Peter’s soft lips moving against yours, teeth coming out to delicately nibble on your bottom lip in a silent request that you gladly conceded. Peter always kissed you like you were something precious, something to be cherished. Always starting out soft and slow, and building up till the fire igniting within the two of you became almost unbearable, exploding into a million colors behind your eyelids, making you come alive in a way not even flying in your Ironheart suit a million miles an hour managed to.

Before the kiss could get heated, though, a throat cleared loudly behind you. But the intrusive noise only succeeded in making Peter kiss you a little more insistently.

“Oh, for the love of-… get away from each other before I pry you apart with a crowbar!” ordered Happy, “Don’t think I wouldn’t!”

You let go of Peter and he took a step back, turning to Happy

“Hey, happy” He greeted, sheepishly, “Nice to see you…”

“Oh, please, save it” He replied, straight faced, “Let’s get on the plane so you can explain to me long has this” he gestured between you and Peter “been going on and if the boss knows you’re smooching his

daughter.”

“Wait, mister Stark can block the glasses?”

“Dad already brief me on the whole situation with Mysterio and the EDITH glasses,” You filled Peter in once inside the jet, “He can block his access to the network but for now he’s letting him believe he’s in control until we can figure out his next target and pin down his location” You were suddenly all business.

It was as if a switch had turned, and you went instantly into agent mode. He wondered vaguely if you knew you did that. And if you knew how hot that was.

“Well, of course he can” You explained, “ the glasses are the prototype, but you couldn’t possibly believe those are the only interface we have for the Stark Global Defense System…”

“You’re hurt” You noticed, “Happy, bring me the first aid kit, would you?”

With every second passing, Peter felt stupider and stupider.

“Right, of course not,” He limped to the sit in front of you, “that would- that would be absurd…”

“I’m not your butler, you know?”

You threw an unimpressed look at him, and you were sure he was about to get up his seat to fetch the kit, caving in under the pressure of the Stark Bitchface ™, when his phone rang.

“Sorry, I have to take this” He hurriedly got up and ran to the cockpit in a desperate quest for privacy “Hi, babe!..” You caught right before he closed the door, effectively locking himself from view.

“I think Happy has a girlfriend!” Marveled Peter.

You and Peter exchanged a amused look,

“What the hell was that?”

You laughed, and even Peter chuckled a little. You made a note to thank Happy later for putting a smile on his face when he so obviously needed it.

“I’ll go get the kit, you wait here” You decided before leaving Peter on the armchair and disappearing inside the jet’s bathroom.

It made him uneasy, not having you in sight. A couple weeks felt like two years. And yes, you had unwittingly broke his heart (again), but it was obvious to him that you hadn’t done so un purpose. He had spent too much time apart from you already, he didn’t want to miss you anymore, specially not after realizing you still wanted him. So he gritted his teeth against the pain and went to find you.

It was worth it, he decided, every second of discomfort only to see you like that: On your tip toes, reaching for the box inside the cabinet, short dress riding up your thighs, long hair falling around your shoulders, skin glowing even under the unflattering fluorescent lights. Your fingers fumbled to open the latch, unsuccessfully.

“Stop staring at me, I can’t concentrate when you look at me like that!” You called him out. He smiled at the floor, feeling his cheeks heating up.

“How did you know I was staring?”

“I can always tell when you’re looking at me” You turned to find him leaning on the door, “I can feel your eyes on me… Come, since you came all this way, I might as well patch you up here” You closed the toilet lid and motioned for him to sit. He did so obediently while you finally got the kit out.

“You’re doing it again…”

“Sorry, I just can’t get over how beautiful you are,” He spilled out “it’s Ironic actually, considering I had a plan on six steps to get over you this summer…”

Only the slightest stuttering in your heart rhythm and your sudden breath intake let him know he had upset you. Outwardly you kept on taking bandages out of the box.

“You wanted to get over me?” You asked, as casually as you managed. Peter cursed himself for bringing it up; What was wrong with him? If friends with benefits was all you were willing to offer, he would take it. Gladly. You owed him no explanations, you owed him nothing. And yet, he couldn’t help to want

more…

“Wait,” You interrupted him, confused, “ you did know dad grounded me after Paris, right?”

He sighed,

“Yeah, I kinda did. I woke up after my birthday and you were gone, just… gone. No goodbye, no explanation, no calls… not even my texts were getting through and… it hurt” He explained without looking up, “It was like Paris all over again and I just-…”

To Peter’s blank look, you exclaimed,

“Oh my god, you didn’t know! Tony banned me from technology, and there was no way of getting your contact info out of him without him getting suspicious, that’s the only reason I didn’t call then!”

Peter knew he was going to hate himself for asking, but he couldn’t help himself,

“And what about this time?”

“Hey,” he whispered softly, “look at me, hey!” You finally met his eyes and he smiled, “There you are, it doesn’t matter, we’re together now, so everything’s ok”

“There was an emergency, and Strange took me with him to fight it, said it could only be me. I wasn’t even in this dimension, that’s why my phone wasn’t working.” You shook your head, “I wrote you a letter, Happy was supposed to give it to you… I guess he didn’t”

You rubbed your face with your hands, obviously frustrated. Peter stood, taking them into his own.

“It’s not, Peter! A mistake just like this is what killed Romeo and Juliet!” You protested. He snorted,

“Good thing I didn’t killed your cousin and you’re not engaged, then”

He just shrugged noncommittally, or at least tried to, cause it pulled at the cut on his back. His twitch and pained face didn’t go unnoticed. You tugged at the hem of his t-shirt,

You smiled a little at that,

“I’m still killing Happy when this is all over…”

“Take it off”

“Take off your shirt” you repeated, “let me have a look at that injury”

His eyes went wide,

“What?”

“Right, you need to… sure. Of course.”

Your smirked was wiped right off your face as soon as his chest was exposed. That night at the lake, it had been dark. But in that bathroom under the bright lights, you could actually see all the hard planes of his body that you remembered feeling against your own. You shook yourself, now it was not the time, not with him hurt and needing your help. He turned around wordlessly to let you look at his back. Most of his bruises and scratches were already fading before your eyes, leaving fresh scars that would disappear soon as well, but one particular cut high on his shoulder was going to need sutures. You looked around at the tiny bathroom, there wasn’t really a lot of space to do this and it would have been more practical to get back at the lounging area and do his stitches comfortably in one of the sofas or something, but you selfishly didn’t want to give up your closeness, the illusion of intimacy the bathroom offered. 

And you were a Stark, after all, you were selfish by nature, so you just pushed him softly until he was sitting back on the closed lid of the toilet. Then tapped at his knee so he would separate his legs further and stepped between them. You always marveled at how easily you were able to manhandle him, given his super strength. The knowledge that he was actively letting you do it made you feel exited and powerful in a way you didn’t fully understand yet, but it thrilled you nonetheless.

“Wha- what are you doing?” He stuttered from somewhere near your cleavage.

“Stitching you up, what does it look like?” You answered without stopping threading the surgical thread through the curved needle.

“Oh. Right. Of course.” You could practically feel the heath coming out of his, sure to be crimson, face. Despite you being as careful as you could, he still hissed in pain when the needle pierced through his skin.

“There, all better now”

“Sorry, I promise I’m trying to be gentle” You apologized, placing soft, soothing kisses on his hair. He hummed in acknowledgment against your breasts, sending goosebumps through your skin. You finished up, letting your fingers linger on his naked shoulder a little longer than necessary. After distractedly

discarding the needle you placed a little kiss on the unharmed skin beside the cut.

“Do you, now?”

He cleared his throat,

“I- um… I have other injures if you wanna, you know… kiss and make'em better” He suggested shyly. You smirked.

He nodded, looking up at you with the big brown innocent eyes that were your weakness.

“Show me.”

He gulped but obeyed, straitening up a little and pointing at his chest, were a red angry line had still to fade completely. You gave it a small peck. Next came a rather big, purple bruise on his ribcage, that you had to kneel on the floor in front of him in order to reach better. Then another, lower on his stomach, that had him biting his lip to stop from moaning. After the last one, right on the sharp bone of his hip, was taken care of, you stopped to look up at him from your position kneeling between his legs: He was breathing hard, chest heaving and slacked jawed, pupils blown wide with lust. You smoothed your hand over his lower abdomen, and watched appreciatively as the muscles there rippled under his skin. God, you were going to get in so much trouble for this! But as you hoisted yourself up the floor and went for the door, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

Realization dawned on Peter’s eyes as you locked the door and turned around to face him.

“Happy is going to know exactly what we’re doing here. You know that, right?”

“You’re insane. And I must be crazy” He shook his head, cause there was no doubt about it, “I’m crazy for you”

“I know” You replied, “But I need you badly right now and I think… I think you need me too?” You added, almost timidly, vulnerably. And Peter felt his heart break inside his chest because of you again, but this time in a completely different way; because how? How could he be so cruel as to let you keep on

wondering if what you were feeling was one-sided? How could he deny you what the very blood inside his veins was screaming at him to give you? What every cell on his body was demanding at him to take in return?

The same kind of terrifying, exhilarating feeling that had taken over the both of you back in Paris returned with a vengeance, as he took a step towards you, caging you between his body and the closed door.

“You’re blushing” You pointed out.

He captured your lips, hands tangling on your hair, tilting your face just so, tongue licking at your bottom lip just before biting it, taking full advantage of the little moan that left your mouth to deepen the kiss and force another helpless sound out of your throat that had his head swimming.

One of his hands left your hair to caress your neck, thumb rubbing delicately the side of your jaw first, and your collarbone later, only to skim over the swell of your breast on his way down to finally rest above the little bow that tied your dress closed. He broke the kiss to look into your eyes; a silent request

for permission. You nodded, earning yourself one of those bright, boyish smiles of him that you loved so much it knocked the breath out of your chest every time in it’s intensity. He undid the knot felling like a little kid opening a birthday present, and let your dress fall open, exposing to him the lacy black bralette

and simple cotton panties you were wearing.

“I know” He replied, “I can feel my cheeks burning just thinking about what I want to do to you”

Whatever it was you’ve been expecting, that candid answer wasn’t it. Heath pooled low inside you.

“What are you waiting for?” You defied him.

“The new course has been set to London” You informed, “That gives us about an hour, almost enough time, don’t you think?” You joked.

“There isn’t time” He objected, eyes still roaming your body, fisting his hands to stop them from shaking from the effort of not letting them follow the path his eager eyes were tracing. You checked your Stark watch casually, as if standing half naked in front of Peter fucking Parker was something you did every

day.

“No,” He countered, “not even nearly” He attacked your lips again, hungry, hard. Strong arms found their rightful place around your waist, and Peter took a moment to awe at the way your body fit right in his hands, before easily lifting you up and placing you on the narrow counter as if you were weightless. You wrapped your legs around his hips, like you had a thousand times before, whenever he would take you swinging across the city on his webs. His touch felt searing, leaving fiery trails on it’s wake. A strangled moan left his lips as his hardened length made contact with your core, sending a wave of pleasure through both of your bodies. Despite his previous statement of not having time, his hands were slow, and his mouth was slower, the strokes of his tongue against your own in perfect tandem with the rocking of his hips against your center. He released your lips to suck a bruise on that little spot on your neck that he remembered making you do such pretty noises for him the last time, scrapping his teeth gently on the sensitive skin.

“Peter…”

“Peter, please,” You breathed “I’m ready…”

“Shhh…” He whispered hotly against the shell of your ear, “We’re gonna have to be really quiet, can you do that for me baby girl?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice. You felt his smile against your skin, right before he started dipping lower and lower, kissing reverently at your collarbone, sucking a mark right above your breast, latching his teeth on the strap of your bra and pulling it down your shoulder along with the sleeve of your dress, baring your left boob to his ministrations. He wasted no time in placing a little catlike lick on your nipple, pausing to hear your sharp intake of breath. Satisfied that that was the only sound you made, he started to suck in earnest, turning it into an even harder peak than it already was. You had to bit your lip to keep silent, holding onto his head to find some purchase and arched your back. He took the hint and nibbled tenderly, making you see stars.

He returned to devour your mouth, hooking his hands on the back of your knees and pulling you forward, to grind you harder onto his leather covered bulge. Those pants really left nothing to the imagination and you could feel him, huge and hot and angry and pulsing against your pussy. A wave of wetness leaked out of you and you could swear you felt his nostrils expand against your face. Could he actually smell your arousal?

“I’m not” He confessed against your jaw, pushing his hands further up the inside of your thighs, spreading you wider for him “I want to taste you. I didn’t have the chance at the lake, and it’s all I can think about. Can I taste you?” He pleaded, “Please, baby girl, say I can taste you…”

You couldn’t help to whine,

“Fuck yeah” You heard yourself answer.

That was all he needed, cause he immediately dropped to his knees and got to work, mouthing at your core through your underwear, massaging your clit with his tongue. 

“Peter… please”

He smirked, looking up,

“Hush, you don’t want Happy to hear us…”

“I was right” He muttered between licks, “You taste like heaven. Want to know how delicious you taste, baby?”

“Don’t care…please” You could barely make sense but it didn’t matter, because at that moment, Peter finally pulled your panties to the side, and licked one long stripe along your slit. “Such a pretty pussy… so wet for me”, you heard him mutter to himself, almost in awe, before really delving into it, sucking and

licking into you as if he didn’t even need to breath. Which he probably didn’t, but you were long past coherent thought, his tongue thrusting deep inside you robbing you of it.

You nodded your head, because you would have done anything he wanted right then. He dipped one fingertip in your entrance and your legs trembled, so he adjusted his grip on you, wrapping an arm around your waist. He used his free hand to slide a finger inside you, collecting your juices, and took it out, reaching up to your lips and staring intently up at your face. You sucked it readily, tasting yourself and moaning, putting on a show for him.

It worked. You could swear you saw his pupils grow wide until there was almost no brown left. He buried his index finger inside you again, sucking delicately at your clit at the same time. He withdrew it slowly, only to glide it in again along a second one, thrusting deep. You were a thrashing mess above him, head banging against the mirror behind you every time your threw it back in pleasure. He didn’t relent on his assault, you could feel his strong tongue slipping inside along his fingers. You anchored yourself burying your own fingers on his hair, tugging hard whenever the tip of his tongue found that spot inside you, biting your lip so hard to keep from screaming that you were sure you’d drew blood. You felt the familiar warmth building and knew you were getting close, but he stopped and stood up, obscenely whipping your juices from his lips with the back of his hand.

You whined pitifully, but he was on you in a second, sucking and licking at your swollen, bloody lip, singing praise against your mouth,

“So good for me, so quiet… my good girl, my angel…” He framed your face with his hands, forcing you to meet his eye until the haze of lust cleared from yours somewhat and you were able to focus on him enough to understand what he was saying.

“Next time, I’ll feel you come on my tongue,” He promised, voice dark and husky with arousal, “but right now, I need to be inside you”

That was the best idea you had heard all summer, and you nodded your head enthusiastically,

“F-first… aid k-kit” You managed to get out. He reached out to your left and rummaged through the kit one handed, until he found the little box of condoms. He pulled one out and teared open the wrapper.

“Can I do it?” Your question took him by surprise, and he looked at you inquisitively. It had been a fantasy of yours for some time. You kind of just wanted to get your hands on his dick somehow ever since you had accidentally seen him naked on the med bay. He swallowed hard, but nodded once.

Eyes never leaving yours, he carefully, very slowly, undid the button and zipper of his pants. You would have called him a teased but you soon learned the reason of his cautiousness, and lifted an eyebrow.

“Going commando, Parker? Kinky, I like it”

He blushed. After all the sinful, dirty things he had just done to you, he actually, genuinely blushed.

“Shut up, it’s a really tight suit, pants wouldn’t go up if I wore underwear…”

Meanwhile, Peter couldn’t decide if he was being blessed or tortured. The sight of your small hands all over his big cock had to be the single hottest thing he had ever seen in his life, and would have been enough to make him come. As it was, he was sure the image was going to be branded forever on his brain, to come back and haunt him every night, when he was alone and feverish and sweaty on his bed, wishing it was your hand instead of his the one to bring him to completion.

“I’m not judging…” the rest of your sentence died in your throat as he freed himself from the pants. God, he was… impressive. Uncut, and not too long but thick, and you could perfectly remember how his girth felt stretching you and filling you like no one had before. You reached for him, starting to roll the

condom down his length. He twitched in your hands, and you felt your mouth water. You promised yourself that, next time, you would be the one tasting him.

But the actual feeling of you touching him? It was almost too much to take. You stroked him a couple times once the condom was firmly in place, and he could have died right there in your hands. And what a way to go would that have been, but then those hands were grabbing him and guiding him to your entrance, and his head was disappearing inside you, and he had to grab at the counter, burying his cry on your neck to stop from shooting his load. It took all the strength he had to stop himself from slamming into you, but he wanted you to feel it all; every single inch of him sinking slowly, excruciatingly slowly inside your heath, every second of him spearing you open.

He bottomed out, leaning back to meet your eyes as he, as slowly as he had entered you, withdrew from you almost all the way, until only his tip remained inside. He surged forward again, a little faster, building up a rhythm. Your pussy was perfection, swallowing him, hot and tight, wet and inviting and all his. He was going to make you all his, giving you just enough friction, filling you up so good, making you come so hard that you would forget everything but him, and the way he was thrusting in and out of you. Life would hold no meaning beyond coming on his cock again, and again… and again.

It was only payback, really; because for him, life no longer held any meaning beyond you, and your eyes, and your laugh, and your voice, and the way you were wrapping your legs and your arms around him.

And it felt like coming home… you were home… that was were he belonged: between your legs, forever.

“So perfect… taking my cock so well… my angel”

He was pounding into you earnestly now, and you were clutching at his shoulders, eyes glassy and unfocused, mouth open in a silent, perfect little oh, tiny frown on your face, as if so much pleasure was confusing. You looked so pure and innocent as he was fucking you… You were so perfect, and he had

been so close to screwing up so bad, with his stupid plan of getting over you using MJ. He didn’t deserve you, he knew he didn’t, but he wasn’t man enough to let you go. He wasn’t strong enough, or noble enough, to push you away, to set you free to find someone worthy of you. No, instead of that he wanted

you for himself, and with the gods as his witnesses, he was going to ruin you for anybody else. He made sure to grind his pubic bone into your clit with every stroke, one hand splayed around your back, pressing you close, rubbing your hard nipples on his torso, the lace covering one only adding to the sensations. You mewled almost inaudibly, still obeying his command to be silent. Yeah, you were perfect.

You weren’t sure he knew he was talking out loud, but it was electrifying anyway. He was so deep now, so hot inside you. Peter always had ran a core temperature slightly higher than normal, part of his peculiar metabolism, and it felt delicious. You couldn’t hold back a broken sob.

“Gonna come? Gonna come on my cock, my angel? Wanna feel that pretty pussy squeeze me up,” he sucked your earlobe between his teeth, “Come on baby girl, let me feel it…”

You shook your head, because as good as it was feeling, you knew he was holding back. And you wanted everything.

“Please… Pete, please…”

“What is it, baby girl? Tell me what you need” He moved his hand to massage your exposed boob, fingers grazing your hard nipple, making you roll your eyes. It took you a few seconds to gather your thoughts again.

“Harder, fuck me harder…”

He moaned, but shook his head no.

“Don’t… don’t wanna hurt you”

“I can take it, I promise. Please…” You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a passionate, wild, dirty open mouthed kiss, “Please, please, you know you want to…”

The truth was, Peter did want to. He wanted it harder, and faster, and deeper. He wanted to fuck you roughly, bury his mistakes deep between your legs, wanted to get lost in you and forget all about them. Wanted you to fuck away the pain, because only you could. He was close to breaking.

You licked into his open mouth, filthily,

“Please, I can take it, give it to me baby boy. I can take it, please…”

His free hand went to your neck, not squeezing, just resting, almost reverently. A primitive, possessive gesture.

“God, you beg so pretty” He growled, snaking one arm around your waist, lifting you up from the counter and impaling you on his cock hard, over and over. You had no purchase, no control at all, couldn’t do anything but hold onto him for dear life and take it as he was giving it to you.

And you fucking loved it.

“This what you wanted, angel? Getting fucked hard? Getting that sweet pussy destroyed?”

You didn’t answer, instead lowering your face a little, to be able to reach at two of the fingers holding your neck and sucking them into your mouth to muffle the screams that wanted to get out. Peter’s eyes went wide.

“Holy fucking shhh… baby girl you gonna make me…”

You released his fingers, biting your lips again. Peter pushed his thumb inside your mouth to make you stop.

“S-stop… baby girl… no hurting yourself… again. Me, bite me… instead”

“You’re hurt enough!” You refused.

“It’s different…” he was pistoning in and out of you mercilessly now “You’ll make it good… I know you’ll make it hurt so good…”

“Woah…” You were a little surprised to see he was breathing as hard as you, didn’t he had like, super- human stamina or something? “That was…”

One particularly vicious thrust of his hips later, and you were latching your teeth on the juncture between his neck and shoulder, biting down hard trying to drown your cry of ecstasy as galaxies exploded behind your eyes. He cursed, felling you flutter and tighten around him. He gave a couple last, uncoordinated thrusts before his knees buckled and he fell back sitting on the closed toilet, as he came.

You were still straddling him, still connected.

“I know” You were almost purring, complete sated, a puddle in his arms as he ran his hands up and down your back. He groaned and hid his face in your neck.

“We are so dead! There’s no way Happy didn’t hear that…”

“I know!” You chuckled, the vibrations producing a different kind of groan from Peter, who was still very much hard and ready inside you.

“You’re still…”

“I know!” His words were stifled against your neck, “I told you there wasn’t enough time…”

You leaned back to be able to look at him, a little lost for words. The sheepish look on his face, however, had you breaking into a full laugh.

“So, there’s that super-human stamina!”

“What?”

“Nothing,” You replied, trying to calm down for his benefit. He looked so unsure, probably thinking there was something wrong with him when in fact it was the opposite, he could be so self deprecating sometimes “I just realized I have the perfect boyfriend.”

His whole face lit up,

“Boyfriend, huh?”

“Yes, boyfriend” You confirmed, peppering his face with little, adoring kisses, “My hot,” kiss “strong,” kiss “brilliant boyfriend”

“I like the sound of that…” He smiled, placing one last, chaste kiss on your forehead before helping you stand up, groaning a little as he slipped out of you.

“Good. Now, would my boyfriend help me find my panties, cause…” You trailed off as he picked a piece of fabric the color of your underwear from the floor with the guiltiest look on his face.

“Sorry,” he said without meeting your eyes, “I must have torn them apart at some point during our…”

The fact that he couldn’t bring himself to say the word fucking after all his dirty talk while you were, well, fucking, shouldn’t have been so endearing.

“Babe,” He perked up at the nickname, sounding so right out of your lips, “never, ever apologize for tearing my clothes out of my body.” You finished, as sternly as you could. His musical laugh filled thebathroom,

“Duly noted, baby girl…”

After you and Peter cleaned up and redress, you left the tiny bathroom only to find the main room of the jet completely deserted, a note on one of the tables the only sign of Happy Hogan’s presence.

“Item 23A” Peter read out loud, “What does it even mea…”

The jet’s secret on board lab was opening up and presenting the new armor to him before he even finished the question.

“Wow, mister Stark certainly outdid himself this time!” Peter admired the new suit that fitted him as a second skin.

“Mister Stark? Oh no, babe,” You corrected, your own suit materializing around you in the exact same way his did around him, “that one was all me…”

Before Peter could say the praise that without a doubt was about to leave his mouth, your dad’s voice resounded on his coms.

“Mister Parker! So nice of you to finally join us!” Tony’s voice was dripping sarcasm, and Peter hurried to apologize.

“Mister Stark! Before anything else I would like to tell you that I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I-…”

“Zip it, Underoos, we’ll talk about the defiling of my plane later, Happy is traumatized…”

“What? No!” Peter was thrown, “Well, I mean, yes, sorry bout that too, but I was talking about EDITH…”

“No need to apologize for that, kid” Tony’s tone softened, “Quentin Beck is a manipulative, psychotic, megalomaniac piece of shit, and if I had agreed to meet with Fury just once, I could have told him that and save us all this trouble. This one is on me…”

“Dad, come on, that’s not-…”

“Nu-uh, young lady, I don’t wanna hear a single word from you, I will deal with you after Fishbowlhead is dead. What is it with you and that plane, anyway? Every time you decide to try and give me a heart attack, it has something to do with that plane…”

“Hey! How do you know it was my fault? Peter is here too, you know?”

Your boyfriend threw you a betrayed look, but your father laughed,

“Oh, really? Peter decided to seduce you in the bathroom?”

Your silence was all the answer he needed.

“That’s what I thought, don’t ever try to lie to my face again, little miss.”

“Technically, it wasn’t to your face…” you protested.

“Don’t get smart with me, y/n…” your father’s tone was warning.

“I can’t help it, I’m always smart.”

“Yeah, well, you are also grounded” He declared, but you could hear the smile in his voice. He could never stay mad at you for too long, and when Peter stole a glance of your lovely eyes shinning with mischief, he kinda understood him: You had your father wrapped around your little finger, just like you had him.

“Now, if you both are done interrupting me, we have work to do. Team, report your situation” Tony Stark commanded, all humor gone from his voice.

“Team? What?”

Peter’s bewildered voice has cut off by a familiar, irreverent one,

“Ironlad in position, ready to begin” Harley Keener informed, vibrating with enthusiasm through the coms.

“Stature in position too, just finished with the evacuation, sir” Cassie Lang’s more serious notes reached your ears and you couldn’t help but smile. These were your friends, these was your team. You knew what they were capable of, and you knew that, no matter what, they would have your back.

“Ironheart, you’re next, you know what to do, tell me as soon you get visual of your target” Your father ordered, and for what was probably the first time in your life, you obeyed at once, ejecting your self from the plane.

“Alright, then, I’m rebooting EDITH and flushing out Mysterio’s malware out of the system, the Stark drones are going offline but he still has his own, so it shouldn’t be easy but be careful non the less.

Peter, I’m sending the Baby Monitor Protocol’s footage of your previous fight with Mysterio when he confessed his evil plan to you to every news network in the planet, just giving you a heads up. He wants to be the biggest hero in the world? Too bad, because we are going to expose him as the fraud he is. He’s all yours kid, kick his ass, Spider-Man! And let’s do this as quick and clean as we can, children: Today is the day the world meets the Young Avengers!”

A chorus of cheers and exited exclamations reached his ears, and Peter couldn’t help the smile that spreaded through his face,

“Yes, sir! We’ll make you proud!”

“Oh, and one more thing” Tony added, closing the comes to everyone but Peter, “Protect my little girl out there, would you?”

Part one   Part two

Peter didn’t know what possessed him, later he would reason he was still high on the afterglow, drunk on you and the way you had of making him feel invincible. Whatever the reason, his answer to his

mentor’s request had been,

“With all due respect, sir, she is my girl now”

[meimi-haneoka]

While we see a comparison with SyaoSaku and Akiho/Kaito (They might need a ship name soon), there is also this interesting contrast. Even though SyaoSaku still needs to work on communication, they do have that great level of trust when they do interact. With Akiho/Kaito, we see them having casual conversation with little issue. But when things get serious or concerning, there is some level of dismissiveness and gaslighting from Kaito, much to Momo and all of our detriments.

Thank you very much for posing this question anon, as I think I haven’t said everything I wanted to say in my analysis post, and I will use this space to ramble a little bit more about “that side” of the parallelism in this last chapter...

(long rambling under the cut)

First thing first, they do already have a ship name! :D The japanese fandom has named them “YunaAki”. Why they chose “Yuna” over “Kaito” is not clear, it seems it sounded better. After all, we don’t know which is the given name and which is the last name. As it’s a fake name, it probably doesn’t matter.

Yes, I totally agree with you. I think, probably the whole meaning of the chapter was to show how different can be the outcome for two similar situations, if you keep your heart shut and don’t trust the person you’re supposed to care for.

As you said, Syaoran and Sakura still have some minor communication issues going on, but they’re working on them and they are solving the situation, this chapter was another proof of that. It’s incredible to think that most of the resistance actually comes from Sakura, but...

Syaoran has accepted and decided to be frank with Sakura, to the point of being even too blunt, sometimes. Sakura, instead, keeps sweeping her negative emotions under the carpet, but Syaoran is slowly pulling her out of that behavioral pattern.

What do we have on the other side, the YunaAki side?

We have, first of all, two battered souls who are trying to cope with their past, each in their own way.

One is doing her best to leave her past behind, with a positive attitude, and doesn’t let the occasional moments of discomfort to halt her progress. She might trip and fall because certain scars are simply too deep to heal in such a short time, but we see Akiho being stronger and stronger, everyday.

One...is basically just doing what Sakura does, sweeps everything under the carpet, the problem is that he doesn’t do that only with the negative emotions, he does that with everything. Even the emotions that are supposed to give him joy and happiness. He’s completely, impossibly shut in himself, and doesn’t let anyone in, not even the creature who is supposed to be his ally in his “quest”.

It’s very important to keep in consideration Akiho’s and Kaito’s pasts, when analyzing their behavior, because their pasts still have great influence on their mindsets. Akiho struggles to let go the “I’m good for nothing” mentality that her clan has engraved so deeply into her heart, while Kaito thinks he’s still that brooding, dull, aloof kid who used to walk down the hallways of the Association all alone, watched from a distance by all the other magicians.

In this chapter, those behavioral patterns came out completely in the sunlight.

But while Akiho took her own patterns and decided “I don’t want to be this way, I’ve already changed so much because of you and I want to help you in return”, activating a sort of “positive response”, Kaito saw her getting closer and insisted in barricading himself behind that thin wall that he’s built around his heart. 

It’s not by chance that I wanted to make the parallel with the SyaoSaku situation more obvious with the use of the “knocking on the door” metaphor, since that’s really what I felt when I’ve read the chapter.

We have a boy and a girl in love with someone and seeing that loved one in pain. Both kids try to be of help because they can’t stand to see them bearing all the burden alone. 

And that’s when trust comes into the picture.

I am saying trust, and not love, because I do think Kaito loves Akiho (and here I have to specify again that we don’t know what kind of love is, but at the very least he has affection for her).

While Sakura trusts Syaoran to the point of not losing faith in him even when he revealed to be the one who took the Sakura Cards, or even despite all the dreams with MCF Syaoran she’s having, Kaito doesn’t trust Akiho. He cannot trust her. He’s too afraid of what would entail to let Akiho closer than the safe distance they have right now.

There are many reasons for this.

One, the most obvious: he’s about to die. He is going to die and that, in his mind, is a certainty, because he needs to save her before it’s too late, and even if the time rewindings won’t kill him, probably the last taboo magic will.

There’s absolutely no point, in his head, to get closer to her.

Two, actually accepting her offer for help would mean that at some point he would have to explain why he’s so worn out, and all that’s behind it. With that, he would inflict on her a pain even greater than the one he’s living on his skin. He has carefully avoided to let her know *any* thing about the terrible spell that is at work on her, in order to give her a life as normal as possible, and he wouldn’t nullify that for anything in the world.

Three, he’s terribly afraid of human connections. To the point of turning himself blind to the beating and stirring of his heart. He’s still convinced that he doesn’t have a heart, just like when he was in the Association.

But Momo was clear: no matter how strong you are, or what kind of life you live, no one can ever stay the same, if they’re given the trigger to change. And Kaito has already had that, when he decided on that fateful day, “I’ll go”.

He just has to stop refusing to admit it.

It was painful to see him going in circles, in hope to avoid where Momo was getting at in chapter 51, and the saddest thing of it all is that it seems this is an automatic behavior, he seemed genuinely confused when Momo said “You missed something”. “Missed”, past tense.

Akiho is terribly scary to him, when she runs on her assertiveness and starts making questions. This was obviously not the first time and he knows that she’s damn observant when she wants. Everytime Kaito changed expression, everytime something was wrong with him, she always caught on.

Dammit, she loves him, what else is she supposed to do? She can’t turn a blind eye on him. 

But this is all too scary for him, because she demands a connection he’s afraid of. Letting someone inside of you means to see your comfortable, perfect, reassuring bubble getting turned upside down, because in a relationship of any kind, you are two, not one. Each with their own expectations, behaviors, personalities. While he has already changed his lifestyle to adapt to one that would be healthy for Akiho, he isn’t definitely ready (or so he thinks) to change his heart. And that’s why, when Akiho mentions that she has changed parts of her thanks to him, he is definitely triggered and literally runs away, interrupting her attempt to tell him “I’m here for you. Let me in. Tell me what’s wrong”.

He doesn’t want to hear that she changed thanks to him, because that would force him to realize that he’s changed too, thanks to her. And what’s more scary than aknowledging that you’re not the same person anymore, that you already have a seat ready in your heart with her name on it?

His feelings are most apparent in the “stupidest” things, like going all the way to cook character bento only for her (that's definitely, definitely, not a butler’s duty), or let nonchalantly slip “because it’s you” without even realizing what that implies (and making Akiho blush furiously) (talking only manga side here, the anime had one huge display of what he feels and we all know which scene it is).

You can well understand why Momo feels so frustrated with him, when the situation is in plain sight and yet he turns a blind eye on it.

So gaslighting and dismissive, we were saying. That’s his defensive reaction because he actually feels like the one attacked, in that moment.

And when he realizes that lies don’t work, he just panics, and instead of elaborating a better lie, he totally cuts her short and runs away. He could’ve said “Thanks Akiho-san, but I’m fine, really”. But no.

That explains quite well why he was shaking, after that. I know CLAMP have skillfully thrown that symptom among his conditions worsening, as soon as he left Akiho’s room, so everyone thinks he was shaking because he’s in terrible shape, and maybe it’s partly true, but I don’t think he would’ve been surprised, if the trembling was caused by his health. He knows he’s dying. He doesn’t wonder why he has heart attacks, he knows what causes them.

Instead, with this, he’s so confused that he even slightly laughs, like he can’t believe what he’s actually feeling.

This is gonna be a rough journey, for Kaito (and for us), because the more he goes on and the more his time narrows down, the more he seems on the brink of insanity. He needs someone interrupting this slippery slope by force, someone who understands where he is coming from, and understands his biggest problem of turning away his eyes from his heart.

Y’all know who I am talking about, right? :D

[smloshie]

“Again and Again”

A Shayne Topp x Reader imagine

Word count: 3357

A/N: yo what’s up, another poorly written Shayne one shot.

So I know most of this stuff is inaccurate to the actual events that took place/sleeping arrangements/etc., but that’s the wonder of fan fiction! I can do whatever the fuck I want! In this one, Shayne goes on a quest to become a living Ken doll and cuts his dick off.

I’m kidding, that’s terrible. Sorry, I’m not funny.

Synopsis: During Smosh Winter Games, your boyfriend of 2 years breaks up with you over text. Shayne tries to assure you that everything will turn out okay. Angst and slight fluff.

TW: cursing, Wes

>>>>><<<<<

When you were asked to be part of the crew for the Smosh Winter Games, you ecstatically accepted. What could be better than going to stay at a huge-ass log cabin with a ton of your closest friends?

The morning that you were meant to leave, you woke up without a single hesitation. You swiftly got dressed into one of your favorite shirts, a flannel, and jeans. You didn’t really have any other options as most of your clothes were packed into your suitcase, which was waiting by the door for you. You grabbed a granola bar from your pantry and ate it for a quick breakfast while pulling out your phone to call your boyfriend, Ethan. After 3 rings, he picked up.

“Hello?” His groggy voice came through your phone’s speaker.

“Hey! I’m leaving my place now so,” you grabbed your water bottle to fill it up, balancing your phone in between your shoulder and ear, “I just wanted to call you to let you know that I love you and I’ll see you when I get back!”

“Okay.” He sounded kinda off to you. He was either tired or irritated, but you were in too good of a mood to let his ‘I’m not going to tell you what’s wrong, but I want you to ask and make sure I’m okay’ attitude get to you.

“Uh, alright then! I’ll... see you in a few days!

-

Everyone was asked to be at the office relatively early, since it was a pretty long drive ahead of you. You and your luggage were escorted to a van. You ended up riding in what became, “Awesome Car One” and rode with Wes, Sohinki, Lasercorn, and Shayne. Before you knew it, you were off on the road trip to Big Bear Lake. After about 30 minutes of driving, a vlog camera was passed around and shoved into your face.

“(Y/N)! What are you most excited for?” Lasercorn asked, his eyes wide with anticipation.

“Sledding, a hundred percent! I used to do it as a kid but since it doesn’t snow in California, I haven’t done it since I moved out here.” You explained

“Okay, I didn’t need your entire damn life story.” He replied bringing the camera back to face him.

“Don’t be so mean, she was just reminiscing!” Wes came to your defense.

“Thank you, Wes!” You smiled at him. You felt your phone vibrate and looked down to see a text from Sarah.

Olivia just got car sink and threw up on the side of the road

*sick

You laughed and remembered part of the conversation you all had earlier.

“Hey, you guys remember how we were talking about Olivia not surviving in the cold?” You asked. They all murmured ‘yes's and ‘yeah’s.

“Well apparently she just threw up on the side of the road because of motion sickness,” you laughed.

“Oh shit, is she okay?” Shayne laughed slightly.

“Probably!” You shrugged your shoulders.

-

After hours of driving, you and everyone else finally arrived at the log cabin (or mansion.) You hopped out of the car and started to stretch. Being in a cramped car for a few hours straight was pretty rough on the joints.

You headed behind the van to help unload your group’s luggage. Shayne pulled your suitcase out for you and handed it to you.

“Thank you, kind valet!” You took the case from him and smiled.

“Valet? I thought I’d at least be butler status by now…” he said, looking disappointed as he grabbed his own bag from the back.

“Maybe some other day. Just not today,” you laughed. The two of you began to walk towards the front door of the cabin. Sarah walked up next to you guys.

“Hey guys! (Y/N), we’re staying downstairs,” She said. She wasn’t carrying anything, so you assumed she had already settled in.

“Okay, awesome- oh, wait! How’s Olivia doing?” You asked.

“Oh right, did she throw up anymore?” Shayne tagged on to your question.

“Yea, yea. She’s fine! Actually, she literally started complaining about being hungry immediately after she threw up so…” Sarah responded. You giggled at her seemingly quick recovery.

Once you stepped into the place, you looked around for the staircase that would lead downstairs.

“It’s this way,” you heard a voice say behind you. You turned and saw Shayne smiling at you, standing in front of the staircase. You smiled back and followed him down the stairs.

“Jesus Christ, the size of this place is kinda terrifying…” You nervously laughed and looked around at all the log and stone decorations. You were pretty sure you even saw fake bear skins hanging from some ceiling beams.

“Yea, but it’s kinda really awe-“

“Y’know this huge-ass mansion is basically built on stilts, so it could all come down at any second!” Lasercorn came in, interrupting Shayne. He looked at him, disapprovingly.

“Shut up, we’ll be fine.” Shayne placed his hand on the wooden wall and leaned back casually. The floorboards above you guys creaked, causing Shayne’s eyes to widen and Lasercorn’s smile to grow.

“Yea, I’m sure we’ll be fine…” he laughed and walked away, leaving just you two in the room.

“I don’t know who else is staying in this room, but I’m for sure calling the top bunk.” You said, chucking your suitcase to the top of a bunk bed with the might of Zeus.

Shayne laughed, “I guess I’ll go bottom bunk then.” He placed his bag on the bed underneath yours.

“Shayne Topp is now… Shayne Bottom…” you whispered to yourself. Shayne heard you.

“That joke sucked.”

-

After everyone settled into their rooms, beds, and spaces, a few of you decided to go to the living room and hang out with each other. Pizza was ordered, drinks were had, people were testing out the hot tub, and the whole night was just like a big family reunion. It was rare that you all were in the same place at the same time, so you just kind of looked around the room and took it all in. Your thoughts were soon interrupted by Shayne's presence. He hopped up and sat on the back of the couch, behind you. You looked up at him and smiled.

“Hey,” you said, casually.

“I wanna play ping pong but I need another player; you down?” He asked you, raising an eyebrow.

You laughed, “Sure, but I’m kind of a natural Forrest Gump at ping pong.”

He called your bluff, “Yea, okay. Sure.” The two of you giggled as you headed to the game room.

-

After 4 matches, the two of you were tied up.

“Loser has to put his dick in a mound of snow.” You said, playfully.

“Wh- hey! Are you assuming that you’re going to win?” He defensively raised his hands.

“Is it really an assumption if it’s so obviously going to happen?” You quipped back.

“I- what?” He shook his head, “whatever, I’m into snow anyway. She’s my babe.”

You giggled as you bounced the ping pong ball and hit it gently towards him. He hit it back. You hit it at him, he hit it back. This went on for a while, (y‘know, like a game of ping pong?) Eventually you did whatever the ping pong-equivalent of spiking was. It bounced so hard on his side of the table that it ended up flying over his head. Your mouth formed an O and your arms shot up as he failed to hit the ball back.

“OOHHH SHIT! Have fun catching hypothermia, frosty dick!” You teased.

“You were serious? I thought you were kidding…” Shayne whined.

“Okay so maybe don’t pull down your pants and do it, but you gotta put snow down the front of your pants.” You reasoned. Shayne groaned.

“Fine, I’ll be right back.” He stepped out of the room to run and get a handful of snow from outside. While he was gone, you decided to check your phone. You saw that you had a text from Ethan so you unlocked your phone to read it.

Honestly, you were expecting a ‘good night’ text, as it was pretty late. Instead, your eyes focused on the words ‘I’m sorry’ in a sea of other words and phrases. Phrases like ‘it’s just getting too hard’ and ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ and ‘I hope we can still be cool after this.’ Your stomach dropped.

Was this really happening?

Shayne burst into the room, interrupting whatever thoughts were racing through your mind.

“Okay, I’m back! I had to run past everyone before the snow melted, so that’s going to be fun to explain later.” He was almost out of breath, “you ready?”

Like a switch was flipped, your face lit up as you turned to face him.

“I think the real question is, are you ready?” You laughed, trying to wash what just happened out of your brain

-

You woke up the next morning on the top bunk. Normally, your first instinct would be to check your phone, but last night’s events suddenly came flooding back. You decided to hold off on checking the phone for now. Instead you just laid on your back, staring at the ceiling. You went on like that for a while before realizing that the room you were in was eerily quiet. However, you could hear voices coming from upstairs. Everyone must have been awake already. Though you were dreading it, you leaned over to check the time on your phone. 11:34 A.M. You were all going to go sledding at 12, but in all honesty, you didn’t think you could. You really wanted to get your mind off of Ethan, but you also wanted to stay isolated so that you could have time to process your feelings. Almost on cue, as always, Shayne entered the room.

“Are you still sleeping?” He asked. He stepped onto the second leg of the ladder leading to your bunk, and peered over the edge to look at you.

“No I’m awake, just… hanging out.” You responded, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“Oh, okay. Well get ready! We’re finally going sledding!” He excitedly shook your blanket and jumped down from the ladder.

“Uh- actually, Shayne?” You called out. He turned to you.

“Yea?”

“Just, um… I don’t know if I’m really- y’know I’m just really not… I’m not really feeling sledding right now.” You managed to say. He looked confused.

“Really? But you were so excited! Are you sure?” He had a right to be confused. He knew you wouldn’t skip out on what you had been looking forward to most. At least, not for no reason. But not only did he know when something was wrong, he also knew your limits and when you really didn’t want to talk about something.

“Yea, maybe later today.” You pulled your blankets up over your shoulders.

“Okay then… is there something bothering you that I should know about? Anything at all?”

You sniffled silently. You prayed he didn’t hear that, “No, no… I’m totally fine! Just y’know sometimes people just don’t feel like doing stuff.” You tried to justify yourself in the most vague but reasonable way possible. Shayne finally decided to let it go.

“Okay,” he began to walk towards the door but hung back in the doorway, “See you later then?”

You were near tears, so you didn’t want to verbally answer. So instead you nodded, but remembered he probably couldn’t see you. You shot a thumbs up into the air for him to see. He hummed in acknowledgement before closing the door and heading back upstairs.

This shit really hurt. Not only did you just get broke up with by someone that you were planning a future with, but you had to keep it hidden from everybody. You didn’t want to be the one to ruin everyone’s time and make their fun getaway into some comfort-fest, where you were the guest of honor.

Tears streamed down the sides of your face. You rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but you just couldn’t. Instead you put in your earbuds and listened to some music, while staring at the ceiling. You stayed like this for a few minutes.

A few minutes turned into a few hours.

A few hours turned into the whole day.

Shayne came in after sledding to bring you some food, but you dismissed him. You told him you weren’t hungry. He didn’t believe you, but he could tell that you still weren’t ready to talk about whatever was bothering you yet. He wanted to give you time.

-

Everyone eventually filed into their rooms and bunks to get ready for bed and go to sleep. The lights went out and people started falling asleep. You couldn’t sleep, so you quietly got out of bed and walked up the creaking wooden stairs and into the kitchen.

It was sweet of Shayne to bring you food earlier, and you regretted turning it down. As you opened the fridge, your stomach growled. It was pretty loud, considering the house was quiet. Every once and a while you’d hear giggles, snores, coughs, and other various noises.

You grabbed the milk jug out of the fridge and gently placed it on the counter behind you before tip-toeing to the cabinet and opening it carefully. You made yourself a bowl of cereal. You sat down at one of the kitchen island’s stools and began eating, though something felt off. You felt a presence in the room. You slowly turned your head and looked into the pitch-black doorway that led to the living room. You saw a shadowy figure staring back at you.

“Hey Shayne.” You directed your attention back to your bowl. He approached you with a smile.

“Did I scare you?” He asked, casually assuming the position of leaning against the kitchen island, across from you.

“Not really, I knew it was you.” You shrugged with a silent laugh.

“What? How?”

“The outline of you is… distinguishable? I think that’s the right word. I dunno, muscular.” You paused. Was that weird to point out? I mean, everyone made jokes about his… buffness. Why were you thinking so much about this?

“Oh, why thank you!” His smiled grew and he looked down at his feet.

“Though, I will admit; I hardly recognized you without your beanie.” He looked back up at you and made a face.

“Well yea, it's… nighttime. I don’t sleep in it.” He laughed, “so are you going to tell me what’s up?” His smile quickly switched to a more caring demeanor. You couldn’t stop looking at his kind eyes and sweet smile. He really wanted you to be okay.

“Ethan… broke up with me.” You looked down. Saying it out loud was weird. The words fell out of your mouth and seemed to float in the air and hang in front of your face. The realization hit once more, and so did the crying. You blinked back tears, but each time you moved your eyelashes, more and more fell. You brought your hand up to your eyes and wiped your face. He wasn’t saying anything, so you looked up at him. His brows were furrowed and his jaw was clenched. You waited in silence for a while. He finally spoke.

“I always fucking hated that guy.” You didn’t know how to react to that. You couldn’t exactly be offended, but it was definitely a crude reaction. “Sorry, sorry. I just meant that- well… I just always got that weird feeling that he was going to hurt you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You wiped more tears away with your hand.

“Well… I always wanted to. I would overhear you talking about manipulative things he would do, but then the next day you were fine. And while I didn’t like seeing you hurt, I knew that it wasn’t exactly my place to talk.”

“That’s… bullshit.” You said. He seemed taken aback, “Sorry. I just- I get it. But I really wish you had said something. It would’ve been so much easier for me to end things from a friend telling me what they saw, instead of him ending things for seemingly no reason. I guess I’m just sick of losing people that mean a lot to me. I’m sick of forming relationships with people that leave me.”

He looked so sad to hear you say those words. You should’ve stopped there, but the floodgates were open. You began rambling like a frantic mess.

“How is someone as fucked up as me supposed to ever share myself with someone again? H-How do I know I can trust someone before I give a part of me away to them? How will I know they w-won’t leave me like everyone el-“

He cuts you off by grabbing your body and wrapping his arms around you. You hadn’t realized that during that time, he had circled the island and appeared by your side.

“Hearing you think like that is so… upsetting. I know I can’t say or do much to prevent you from thinking that way, but please- please just know that you still have your entire life to find the perfect person who will make you feel like you’re worth every second.” He seemed to plead with you. He was begging you to see yourself how he saw you.

In that moment, in that position… you realized you liked having his arms around you. The feeling it gave you was sheer perfection compared to how your ex made you feel. With your ear on him, you could hear his heartbeat and it was beating fast. You managed to stutter out a few words with your face pressed into his body.

“Thank you.” You removed your head from his chest, and looked up at him. You were met with his bright blue eyes. While you couldn’t hear his heartbeat anymore, yours became increasingly more noticeable to you. Your tears stopped falling, and time seemed to slow. His face inched closer to yours, and you tilted your chin up. You didn’t know what was happening, but it felt like a magnet was pulling you towards each other. Eventually, after what seemed like way too long for your liking, your lips connected.

You liked Shayne.

The two of you kept kissing, neither of you really wanted to stop. It grew increasingly more intense. This was something that Shayne had been waiting for. Not just for the kiss, but for you. His hands were placed firmly on your back, and slowly began to adjust to your body. Your hands ran through his hair, silent sighs escaping your mouth. What you were doing felt so good, but you knew it had to end. You pulled away slowly, and gently opened your eyes, where you were once again met with his.

“Sorry, that was way too soon. I shouldn’t have done that.” He began nervously running his hand through his hair. He looked kinda really hot like that...

“No it’s okay! That was good. I’m… good. I liked it.” You tried to keep him from overthinking it. He looked up at you with hope in his eyes.

“Really?”

“Yea really. I agree that the timing was kinda… poor. But it was a good thing that I would like to happen again.”

“Again?”

“Yea… again. As in, I would like to kiss you Shayne. Again… and again...” You smiled and looked down at your feet. He bit his lip to prevent an excited giggle from escaping. He cleared his throat in an attempt to keep his cool.

“Do you… want a hot drink?” He asked. You nodded.

-

The two of you spent the rest of the night, sitting on the couch and talking. About Ethan, about each other, about… everything. You held the warm mug of hot cocoa in your hands. You couldn’t drink it, your stomach wouldn’t allow you; there were way too many butterflies doing acrobatics in there. Eventually, the two of you decided to turn in for the night.

The next day came, and you went sledding.

[lockhvrts]

Hey Em! How you feeling about tlou2? I'm still sobbing 😭

hi rilee :’) hope you're doing well❤️ i actually wanted to ask you too lmao and same this game wrecked me  

..okay so i have many thoughts n things i want to say id actually just would link you a review that goes more into detail and is more cohesive than my messy essay so i’ll try my best and keep this short as possible tho and i apologize for my english lmfao : 

SPOILERS FOR TLOU2 OBVIOUSLY

also if anyone disagrees with me and is about to send me an essay why i am a h*mophobic,  tr*nsphobic and alt r*ght piece of trash bc i didnt praise the shit out of tlou2

i'm glad that you enjoyed the game so much that its a masterpiece and 10/10 in your eyes , i honestly respect your opinion (and i wanted to love this game too) but maybe rethink what you're about to do and let other people have different opinions without bashing them? it literally doesn't affect you in any way that i didn't enjoy it ( and no it wasn't enjoyable for me bc a character i like died)

postive: 

the gameplay is fluid and responsive (there were some minor issues but its still great), definitely improved compared to the first game, id love to have a little bit of more enemy variety bc it got kind of tiring after the 20th encounter that basically felt the same as the ones before (tho i appreciate the stealth gameplay , sneaking around the map and taking out enemies while being prone like in mgsv was thrilling)

animation, graphics , level design, acting, sound design: ND succeeded in creating another jaw dropping immersive cinematic experience is all i have to say, this is one the best looking games i've ever played (i cant believe a 7 yr old machine can run this game)

music:  i'm glad that gustavo santaolalla is back for the sequel! it wouldn't feel the same without him, his music adds so much to the experience 

negative: the controversial part lmao

story, characters:  I’ll be honest i prefer tlou1 + left behind story wise. i personally don't like the structure of it in the sequel, too many empty side characters, some character / plot decisions generally didn't make sense for me, the dialogue/writing felt out of place and kind of odd sometimes (compared to the scenes from the flashbacks with joel and ellie) and the last hours were dragged out for some reason i just wanted to be done as quickly as possible with it tbh  

jesse was your typical nice guy™ who will definitely be killed off to move the plot forward. the only thing i remember is that he’s dinas ex boyfriend + father of jj dont get me wrong i like and didn't mind him but he has nothing interesting to add to the story. also funny how they literally did not mention him once after his death 

owen and the other WLF members were just kinda there..? i don't have much else to say about them besides that they felt empty i tried to understand them and their stories but i didn't care for them in the end its prob my fault but henry, sam, bill and riley were more compelling to me

lev and yara were great i liked them both , its just that especially lev was just there to make abby seem more humane, i didn't like that ND tried to create a similar dynamic between them like in the first game with ellie and joel it didn't particularly make me like her more speaking of which:

 abby shows barely to no remorse for the things she did. what she did show was that she enjoyed torturing joel, killing seraphites and almost knowingly murdering a pregnant women (dina) and now ND shoves us this forced narrative of her being a good person into our face like how she would've accepted to die for the cure, has friends and a dog that she treats well (which we as ellie were forced to kill to make her seem even more like a villain in contrast to abby) , takes care of yara and lev (granted out of guilt for joel maybe? but i'm not sure) also making her seem more humane bc she has a fear of height? but abby would kill anyone who is not on her good side this time without a problem as we’ve seen plenty while playing as her what i'm surprised about is that i weirdly didn't hate her or anything guess they succeeded in making me feel some pity for her in the end 

yes i also had some issues with the way tommy, ellie and joel were portrayed but i think i'm gonna stop here and give you a 

TLDR:

gameplay ,graphics, animation, acting etc: solid 9/10

story (structure, writing, dialogue,characters etc) : 4-5/10 seems harsh but i am comparing it to the first game, if this was a different ip maybe an 8/10

all in all a its 6-7/10 for me, this game made me feel emotions (not particularly positive ones lmfao) i've never felt in any other medium before, only the first game comes close.

 tlou2 is bleak, hopeless and messy at times with some rare light moments like the flashbacks of joel and ellie that i enjoyed the most and wished we’d gotten more of while also exploring joel and ellie's present relationship on her quest of finding the truth about the hospital incident and maybe also learning more about her immunity  alas this was not the case as seemingly promoted by neil and some misleading trailers.

would i want to play this again? to be honest not really I’ll maybe try clearing the trophies but going back to just casually play it like i did with tlou1 no i don't think so for now.

[nolongerapileofashprobably]

Whenever my sister plays BoTW, she utterly confounds me.

She never did the Memory Quest. She never got to know the Champion’s or Zelda. After she played it the first time through, she thought Zelda was still DEAD.

And I... just don’t understand that.

How can someone not want to watch the memories? Especially in BoTW where the majority of the story takes place in THE PAST.

How can someone not watch that first memory, with Zelda doing a ceremony for Link with so much annoyance in her voice? Or how the Champion’s all saw this contempt, the only one understanding it being Urbosa.

But it leaves the player with so many questions. Why does Zelda dislike Link so much? They’ve just recently been bound together in their fate. What could have happened for her to be so cold? Why does Revali feel the same way? Why does Urbosa see right through Zelda?

And the second memory, as the pair makes their way to Goron City. The distance, the pure annoyance and distain in Zelda’s speech. The two are far from friends. More like forced acquaintances. You can smell the trope at this point. But, it has yet to really get you. They have no bond yet. It isn’t deep enough.

The third, oh this one is a doozy. First, Zelda explaining something very vital to the game. Then, Link riding up which means Zelda literally escaped from the castle and fled to this shrine so far away. Why? There’s a shine right outside Hyrule Castle. One inside as well. Why would she want to be away from the castle? And away from Link’s protection? And Zelda freaks out. She establishes their relationship as everything but a relationship. They have had to form a reluctant bond with each other to fulfill this prophecy. Link is intent on keeping up his role. Zelda is refusing to cooperate with him. It builds angst. It gives Zelda some background, as we learn her contempt is not only at Link, but also at her father.

The fourth one. The one that literally changes everything. It’s one that sets up the rest of their relationship. It mirrors their fate. Zelda is being CHASED so there’s the action appeal. And then Link, the ever loyal knight, manages to step in last second and save the Princess. Cue the slow music and Zelda’s stare that shows emotions from disbelief to adoration. It’s a mix of everything but it gives them a turning point. How can someone not want to see if they use it to move forward or use it to again block their development as Princess and her knight?

The fifth bad boy. Oh man. The sudden shift is BLANTANTLY OBVIOUS. Zelda is seen actually interacting with Link, scolding him for being reckless, and assessing his wounds. She’s begun to care about Link. Not caring about how his role hinders hers in some way. No, instead caring about Link and his own safety. She shares her concerns, letting us see a little more of Zelda. She is quite aware of the threat and can sense the omens that keep popping up. She’s set herself to stopping him. And she used plural terms. She’s accepted Link. The distance between them has lessened greatly. How am I not supposed to go hungrily searching for the next location to see them interact with each other?

Boy does the sixth bring some smiles. This entire memory establishes Link and Zelda as friends. They’ve become much closer, now just hanging outside the castle in a field. Zelda should probably be training. Instead, she establishes the importance of the Silent Princess. The symbolism is huge. It also gives us an insight on how close they actually are. I don’t know about anyone else, but I would have to be pretty comfortable with someone to try and force feed them a frog. How were my shipper senses not suppose to kick in and go into hyperdrive?

The seventh one is another one of my favorites. It gives a domestic vibe as the pair are forced to delay their travel to wait the rain out. Zelda is sitting down, just watching Link and the nature around her, rambling about her thoughts. Link is training, not unaware of her stare, but comfortable enough to not be hindered by it. Zelda reveals a piece of herself by relating it to the limited knowledge she has of Link. We see some true development and get to really see Zelda as who she is. The princess with a bad temper is really just a girl forced into a destiny that she can’t seem to fulfill and this cannot he truly dedicated it as her interests lie elsewhere. Character development? Checkkkkk

This one. This eighth memory that really clues in two things for the player. Zelda and her father have a very strained relationship due to the responsibilities that weight down both their shoulders. The way the scene is set up allows the player to see that Link is the reason she gathers the courage to stand up for herself. Ultimately she concedes, taking in the failure she must be in her fathers eyes. And, Link’s presence is only explained by the simple fact that he was there for Zelda. Not as her knight, though that has become a natural state for him, but as her friend. He is there to keep her company as she researches and to listen to her thoughts. They have gone from unwilling companions to wanting to be near each other even if there is no need for it. Am I suppose to stop now?

The ninth scene. Oh this one really tugs at my heart. We see the true frustration and toll Zelda has been enduring. Though it doesn’t justify it, this scene really makes the player understand her cold attitude towards Link in the beginning. But this scene gives us so much more about them. Though subtle, Link obviously reacts to Zelda’s pleas and later her cries. He turns his head, more interested in hearing her words, than watch the Spring for any enemies. And then, he turns around as she blames herself for something being wrong with her. This just gives us a glimpse into Link’s own feelings and that he won’t stand for anyone doubting Zelda, even if it is herself. He’s no longer just her knight, but someone who cares deeply about her and can’t stand when anyone degraded her. How was I not suppose to notice that?

Tenth scene and they’re riding almost side by side. They have come so far from the distance in the second memory. This memory confirms Link can speak, but it also confirms that he’s a softie when it comes to horses. PLUS this memory gives us Zelda’s little speech about her last Hope on Mt. Lanayru. Zelda has reached her end point and tomorrow Link will be the only one truly supporting her as he makes his way with her to the Spring.

Ooohhhhh and this one. The one where the entire threat of Ganon arrives in the eleventh scene. Zelda and Link walk back, everything clear on their faces. Link, is utterly focused on Zelda. He knows her personal disappointment in herself and how she’s surely beating her self up mentally at that moment. No one else there really matters. Just Zelda. Even when Mipha is talking, giving advice, Link’s gaze never wanders from Zelda. Then, Ganon appears. Link doesn’t let Zelda even STUMBLE because his hands are already there supporting her. She is his entire focus and this memory really highlights his shift from just a knight, to someone who cares so deeply about someone who is experiencing so much pain. This memory gives us another look at the Champion’s too.

And this last one. The twelfth memory. This entire memory sealed the deal when it came down to these two. Running away together from death machines? Check. One slipping and falling and the other having to stop and go back? Check. The one having a breakdown. Check. The other comforting them. Check. Zelda breaking down, Link letting her get it all out... It truly shows the depth of their relationship. It has surpassed being mere friends at this point. Zelda is completely distraught. Link is endangering them both by sheathing his sword. But he needs to let Zelda her her feelings out. He needs to be there for her. So he fails his duty and comforts her. Even he is surprised as she embraces him, but it quickly settles into one of compassion and endearment. They’ve truly accepted the other. They are not the princess who holds the power to seal Ganon or the knight who wields the sword that seals the darkness. They are Link and Zelda. After than emotional toll? How can I NOT go get the last one.

And this one..The thirteenth memory. Boy is this one’s heart wrenching. Link is gravely injured, Zelda begging him to run. But Link doesn’t because it is his duty and he would never leave Zelda is there was danger around. Not a chance. And she unlocks her power, as she is forced to protect the one she loves, the one who understands her in a way no one else can. The boy who showed her more to life than Sheikah Tech and sealing powers. And Link, he’s completely aware that he’s going to die. He’s even giving her a “we both know that’s not true” when Zelda swears that he’ll be fine. And he isn’t. It’s heartbreaking, watching her spb over the boy who made her feel more than the princess everyone looks at her to be. A soft lullaby, casually breaking my heart in the background. Then, the moment where it all goes down. Zelda can save Link. Her fingers curl against his chest as she realizes he can still be saved. She can’t cry. She has to be determined. And she is.

How was I not supposed to fall into this story head first? Not fall in love with Link and Zelda’s relationship. The entire plot and trope it follows. It’s angsty, it’s soft, and it is HEARTBREAKING.

How wasn’t I suppose to fall into an obsession and write posts like this at 2 in the morning when I should be sleeping?

[bffhreprise]

Entry 327

 I lay on the ground, staring at the etched stone ceiling in wonder and imagining what James felt when he was in here.  The moment this room activated, I couldn’t feel him, but there was a stretch where I stared at him in wonder.  He was enormous, more vast than anything that had drawn my attention before.  Just as quickly, he was normal James again, though “normal” was hardly a fitting adjective for James.

 To my shame, I wished James would stay in here longer to talk with me.  I knew he had been aware of me when using the room, but he hadn’t said a thing, doing his work and quitting.  He hadn’t wanted to come into this room.  His resigned steps are what drew my attention in the first place.

 Three beings were coming here relatively fast compared with most I knew.  Sensing their path, I moved behind James and Alma to hide as a kitty in one of the bushes, just in case.  If they meant to harm my friends, I’d pounce.  Today was the wedding day.  No one was going to ruin their wedding day.

 “James!  Did you feel that?” asked one of the men.  He appeared as the youngest as well as the most human.  With him was an older man and one of unusual proportions, looking more like a beast than a human.  They were all vampires, probably very old by the scent.  Now that they were stopped, they at least acted respectful.

 The large one, who had sniffed the air with his very large nose, questioned “What are you two doing out here on your wedding day?  Getting a head start?”

 Yes, there were pheromones in the air, but not that type.  Rude.

 “I was putting in place the enchantments to help you three and others blend in with my guests.” explained James.  “Sorry if I startled you.”

 “And what are you insinuating?” demanded Alma as she stepped around James to glare up at the large vampire.  Even with him crouched, she was much shorter.

 Scenarios burst in my head, picturing different ways this interaction could go and how I might intervene, but I didn’t really want to reveal myself.  Even when the large vampire merely grinned at Alma, I just considered leaving.  If they weren’t going to misbehave, there was no reason for me to reveal myself.  I was just being overly cautious.  The three vampires had arrived in tuxedos, and James obviously knew them.  These were guests, and they weren’t on the list of ones I needed to keep an eye on.  

 “You can come out, Raine.  They’re fine.” insisted James just before I decided to leave.

 I lazily dodged the big vampire as he attempted to grab me from the bushes.  He really was oddly proportioned and had enormous wings.  Was he one of the different strains Cosette had talked about.  These were apparently the eldest three, going by her conversation with Mila.  I carefully put on my dress for the day as the others talked about me outside.

 “Illusion?” questioned the largest vampire.

 “No.  Half-demon.  She’s that fast.” replied James.

 I didn’t even wince upon hearing that.  I really was a half-demon.  This wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

 “Half-demon?” pondered the oldest-looking vampire.  “Yes.  I remember Ariadne mentioning her.”

 “My brother didn’t mean to startle you, Raine.  Would you mind joining us?” asked the youngest-looking of the brother vampires.

 I sighed and triple-checked how I looked in the mirror.  I hated it, feeling too exposed.  The temptation to grab my hoodie was very strong, but I resisted.  Alma had picked this dress, and I was careful to keep it intact, not wanting her to claim that it was no longer the original.  Knowing I’d never really be satisfied, I moved behind James.

 “Raine, this is Vito, Papak, and Zachary, eldest of the vampires.  Gentlemen, this is Raine.”  explained James, introducing us all.

 “We would never try to hurt a friend of James.” insisted the large one, Papak, as he bent his body to look around James where I stood.

 “Raine, please don’t cling to my fiancée on our wedding day.  Rumors will spread.” claimed Alma as she gently pulled me out from behind James.

 I sincerely doubted she’d allow rumors to go very far, but I didn’t really like how she intimidated some people.  There were reasons, I was certain, for her to behave that way with certain people, but… I still didn’t like it.

 “You’re a pretty one, aren’t you.” suggested the older-looking vampire, Vito, in a soothing voice.

 As he spoke, Ariadne and the Princess appeared behind him.  With just a wink, the Princess was gone again.  I couldn’t even follow her movements.  Of course, she often just appeared in places, seemingly at whim.  I had suspicions about her inventing a teleportation device, but I rarely detected any device on her except her phone, which wasn’t really a phone most of the time.  Maybe her backpack was some sort of device that cloaked its mechanisms.  There was an entire extension of her room in my mind devoted to that line of thought, but I hadn’t figured things out.

 “Vito, are you hitting on this child?” asked Ariadne in an accusatory tone as she stepped closer to him.

 “No.  I was merely acknowledging that she is pretty.  I expected a demon’s spawn to be more like Papak.” he suggested as he gestured to his brother.

 “What are you trying to say?” questioned Papak, lifting his brother with a single, enormous hand wrapping around Vito’s waist.  Then his other hand pointed at me.  “Why’s she shaking?”

 “S-Sorry.” I replied, uncertain what I had done to bother him.  Feeling I needed reinforcements, I fetched Cosette from her room.  Papak’s hand was still pointing when I returned, but surprise had started to show on his face, since I took my time.  Grabbing Cosette when she wasn’t fully dressed would have been bad, so I had to verify everything was in place.  She had been rehearsing different ways to introduce herself with Mila this whole time.

 “What!?” exclaimed Cosette as she took in her surroundings.  “I… I… I…”

 “Gentlemen, this is Cosette Bourbon.  She obviously knows who you three are.” explained James, a small smile tugging at his lip.

 “Cosette!  Lovely to make your acquaintance.” insisted Zachary as he held out a hand to her.

 With James guiding her forward, Cosette swiftly changed from nervous to her typical authoritative figure.  “I’m… I’m sorry.  Mila told me you were here, and I was attempting to figure out how to greet you.  I’ve heard so much about you.” she explained, the picture of a princess speaking to her peers by the end.

 “Y-Your win-window was… open.” I explained, hoping she’d infer the apology in my words.  She’d understand that I had heard her entire conversation.  Bringing her to where she wanted to be could be seen as a service, right?  As my mental scenarios depicted how she might respond, I wondered if I might have erred.

 “Well, I’m glad I was dressed.” she teased, grabbing onto my arm and pulling me to stand beside her.  “I love your dress, but why are you wearing it already?”

 “I… W-Well…” I started, picturing hundreds of ways to explain.  “P-Practice.”

 Papak barked out a loud laugh.  “I know the feeling!  Takes me ages to find something I’m comfortable wearing.”

 “And he literally means ages.  The man is never in touch with the times.” prodded Vito, looking quite pleased with himself, despite still being held aloft in his brother’s hand.

 Papak blew a raspberry at Vito, splattering him with particulates of saliva, but then he set him down.  Despite what Vito had claimed, Papak was dressed in a very modern-looking tuxedo that suited him very well.

 “Thank you.  Ladies, meeting you all is a pleasure, even you, Lady Pendreigh.” stated Vito as he bowed with easy grace.

 “I’m surprised you three could attend with how rarely you get out.” replied Alma, apparently not taking that she was singled-out as an insult.

 “Rarely?  Aren’t you told that we devour people by the hundreds each night?” asked Vito with a smirk.

 “Hundreds?” questioned Papak with a frown.  “That hardly sounds dramatic.  You’d find hundreds in a single block these days.”

 “In a single building with some of the taller ones.” corrected Zachary.

 “Fine, but Vito should have said thousands!” insisted Papak, pointing at Vito as he watched Zachary’s reaction.

 “Yes-yes, I see your point.” snapped Vito in annoyance.

 “You do get out then?” inquired Alma looking at them placidly.

 “Well, I like to go jogging each morning, personally.” replied Papak with an enormous grin.

 Scenarios of Papak out for a morning jog sped through my mind.  His wings were spread, giving him lift between enormous steps in some.  In others, he casually waved at people he passed, not that a normal human would even see him if he was moving a tenth of the speed he had approached here, but I also had scenarios of him moving at a human peace.  Ignoring the wings, the fangs of his smile would likely terrify the faint-of-heart, especially with his unusual facial proportions.  I found myself quickly feeling sympathy for his plight.  Unless he could transform as well as Cosette, he wouldn’t be able to chat with most people at all.  Most people who saw my eyes in the light would flinch away, and nearly everyone who had seen my hybrid form demonstrated outright terror.

 “Jogging must be a great workout for you.” commented Alma with a roll of her eyes.

 “If James isn’t opposed, I wouldn’t mind letting you try giving me some pointers for exercise.  I’ve heard you’re a pretty decent fighter.” suggested Papak, obviously trying to bait her.

 “B-Be nice.” I told him, staring him down.  No one should pick on a bride on her wedding day.

 He smiled back at me, saying, “I am!  I was just offering.  Care to try yourself?  I must admit I’m curious how strong you are.”

 “Please, Raine.  That would be most entertaining.” encouraged Alma.

 “No.  Please, don’t.” pleaded Cosette, gently squeezing my arm.

 “J-James?” I asked, looking up at him to see what he wanted.  James had seen the worst of me, and he never flinched.  He was so very kind, even to monsters.  If he wanted me to play with Papak, I’d accept the quest without worry.  Cosette would understand.

 “I don’t want this place devastated, so I expect you to guard everything you throw him at if you choose to accept.” he told me, obviously fine with me being gentle.

 “She’s that good, huh?” questioned Papak as he rubbed his big chin.

 Alma shook her head and said, “No.  Her technique is still terrible, but her natural aptitude is far beyond me.  I doubt even you saw her fetch Cosette.”

 I was tempted to argue for part of a second, but I didn’t like the scenarios that sprung off my scenarios of how that would go.  Alma didn’t really need to know more of what I could do.  I knew she could be kind, but I doubted she’d ask me to do anything kind if she knew more.

 “True.  She’s easily faster than me.” acknowledged Papak.

 “She could toss him straight up.” suggested Vito, smiling slightly.

 “Maybe the three of us together should try?” suggested Papak hopefully.  “We haven’t faced a demon for many years.”

 “I’m not inclined to try.” replied Zachary, holding his hands out to ward off the idea.

 “I must concur.  Though I do remember the spells we’ve used in the past, she seems much stronger, judging by her speed.” explained Vito as he considered the idea.  “I still think you should try, dear brother, to keep your honor intact after issuing such a challenge.”

 “Children, behave.” ordered Ariadne, sounding amused.  “James, I would like your permission to enter the forest with these three before your other guests arrive.  They’ve been itching to see my family ever since I told them of the survivors.”

 “Sure.  Let’s head there now then.” he told her.  “Sorry, Raine.  No tossing Papak yet.”

 I nodded, not surprised.  I could see the appeal of playing with someone significantly stronger, though I hadn’t experienced it.  Papak probably just wanted to feel more normal.  Of course, some of my scenarios begged to differ.  Based on his actions thus far, he was boisterous in his strength.  The sudden urge to pounce him was restrained.  If he teased my friends too much, I’d help, but James wanted them to see the fey, and I wouldn’t deny a guest that joy.

[shirtlesssammy]

8x22: Clip Show

Then:

Cas almost gets hit on by Dean 

Now:

Lost Creek, Colorado

A couple are at a cabin in the woods, and the woman is so happy that her boyfriend finally joined her. He acts like it’s no big deal but we flash back to a memory —specifically of Supernatural season 1, episode 2: Wendigo. He’s Tommy and has some serious PTSD from the terror he experienced that night in the woods.

He thinks he hears a growl and pulls his girlfriend away from the window. He knows that a Wendigo is outside and pulls out a flare to take the unseen monster out. He crumples to the floor and then just explodes right in front of his girlfriend. Eeerp.

At the bunker, the brothers continue to find records that the Men of Letters have kept over the years. Sam’s not doing so well due to all the Trials. He’ll feel better once they finish them.

Cas shows up in the war room, and it appears that Dean and Cas didn’t follow the golden rule of not going to bed angry. Dean doesn’t even acknowledge the angel. Cas is still convalescing. He sits down to talk with Sam a bit about the trials. Dean comes back with food for Sam—well, jerky, beer, and peanut butter cups. 

Cas offers to go with Dean for more food, but still gets the cold shoulder. “I’m sorry.” “For what?” “For everything.” Classic DeanCas, lol. (Brb, off to throw myself off a cliff.) Oh wait there’s more, Dean calls out Cas with the whole bolting with the angel tablet and adds, “You didn’t trust me?” 

THESE BOYS ARE NOT IN LOVE:

Cas is contrite but Dean is not accepting his apology. Sam stays out of it all for a bit but interrupts eventually to pull Dean aside to make it clear that Cas is one of the good guys. What’s that saying? Dean’s harder on Cas because he loves him the most? Well, meh, I do like their later seasons of grumpy banter more than the divisiveness of right now.

In any event, the brothers head to a storage room. 

Sam wants to find a case that their records mentioned. He finds the box, and Dean finds a dungeon! Sam’s box contained a movie film.

They set up the movie (They even made popcorn, guys!)

It’s an old black and white film of the Men of Letters. Josie, the woman that Abaddon possessed, is filming the experiment. They have a demon captured in the very dungeon the Winchesters just discovered. They throw holy water on the demon, recite an incantation at it, and then one priest cuts his hand and presses it on the demon. It flares out, apparently gone. The film stops. It was weird (!!!) One of the priests is still alive and Sam thinks it’s a good idea to get the lowdown on what they just watched on the film. Cas wants to go too but Dean won’t hear of it. (Brb, flinging myself off another cliff. DO NOT LIKE.)

Cut to the brothers meeting with the priest. He tells them that the other priest believed that demons could be saved. He thought that they could cure the demon and they could be a normal human soul again. There were other experiments after that one attempt, and then the priest ended up dead a couple months later. Something had torn him apart. Sam tries asking about records but goes into a coughing fit, complete with blood. He heads to the bathroom while Dean continues to talk with the priest. The priest agrees to give them the other priest’s papers.

Meanwhile, Cas is on a mission to make up with Dean. He’s at a Gas ’n Sip and pulling all the essentials to make Dean like him again.

Ways to woo Dean Winchester:

Beef Jerky

Porn

TP

Beer

Protein

AND Smiting the sap who can’t provide the pie

Cas almost smites the poor attendant. Metatron interrupts. They need to talk.

He wants to talk about Heaven. It’s apparently a mess up there without the archangels. Naomi isn’t in charge as much as she’s led Cas believe. Cas blames himself for everything that’s happened in heaven. (URGH, no! —I mean, yeah, but NO). Metatron thinks they can buddy up and save the day! They can sort everything out. First, they need to shut down Heaven. Then he mentioned crepes and flies away.

At the bunker, Sam can’t find Cas. Dean doesn’t care (URGH, no!) They decide to watch the last audio recording before the priest died.

Once again, there’s a demon in chains. This time, the priest injects the demon with purified blood. He continues to do this 8 times. And the demon seems to be cured. 

They decide to try the experiment out on their own decapitated Abaddon.

Meanwhile, Cas flaps over to Metatron’s brunch location, a cute restaurant with an outdoor patio overlooking the water. It’s a perfect place to relax!

Iconic dialogue alert: 

Waitress: Cool coat.

Cas: No, it's actually quite warm.

Waitress: Cute and funny. Okay…

Metatron: I should have picked a better looking vessel.

You’re not here to accidentally flirt with the waitstaff, Castiel! Cas asks for clarification on Metatron’s quest to close the gates of Heaven. Metatron waves it away as just another godly safety switch - you’ve got one for leviathans, demons, and Heaven, of course. Metatron tells Cas that it’s time for a heavenly lock-in to work out all their feelings. And he needs Cas, the warrior, to do it. Cas owns to feeling responsibility for the current state of Heaven but recoils when he hears the first trial. He’ll need to cut out the heart of the cute waitress, the sole nephilim on earth. (Pronounced in this episode as neph-IL-im.) “What’s more important?” Metatron asks. “Her life? Or your family?”

With season 9 under my belt, I watch Dean and Sam sewing Abaddon’s head on with particular horror. Like, you took on the Mark of Cain to defeat her, Dean Bean. Which led to a whole bucket of depression and sad men. Nobody likes buckets of sad men. (JK obviously I love it or what am I even doing here?) What a spectacularly bad idea! Still, it wouldn’t be my beloved show if characters were making smart choices. Abaddon wakes up, cracks her stitched neck, and greets them with “Morning, sunshines.” 

“I can’t wait to tear out those pretty green eyes,” she says, lovingly. The Winchesters smirk, drawing her attention to her handless state. (They chopped off her hands - or maybe just left them detached.)  “I’ll stump you to death,” she says and...that’s the spirit, Abaddon! She knows about the priest and his work curing demons. In fact, she was a special dispatch straight from Hell to make an example of him. The priest led her to Josie and possessing Josie helped her dismantle the entire Men of Letters network. Yeesh. 

The phone rings. It’s Crowley! Abaddon is appalled to learn that Crowley is the King of Hell. Dean and Sam leave the room to talk to Crowley and FOR THE LOVE OF GOD BOYS they leave Abaddon alone. 

Outside, the Winchesters chat with Crowley. He directs them to some news stories, “sexts” them an address, and bids them farewell. They discover that Crowley’s been putting out hits on people the Winchesters have saved. 

While Crowley’s giving them the news, Abaddon makes like Thing from the Addams family and puppets her hands out of the loosely closed box on the table.

Her hand crawls into her mouth and pries out the demon trap bullet. It’s freedom time, mofos. 

The Winchesters return to find Abaddon gone. You FOOLS! Sam keeps his eyes on the prize, though. Crowley’s latest address is from their “witches and baked goods” case and is clearly a trap. Time to make a play to catch themselves a different demon. 

Prosperity, Indiana

The power’s out in the target’s apartment (and so are the cupcakes! yum!) Unfortunately, Jennie’s body is also out - sticking out of the oven, that is. “You were a great gal, Jennie Klein,” Dean says and...okay? Great mourning, everyone. 

Crowley calls them up again. He’s killing off everyone they’ve saved (and using the books as a reference guide) until they deliver the demon tablet to him. 

Metatron and Castiel stalk the waitress outside her place of work, Metatron goading Cas to make a choice. Urg. It’s just the bad decisions gang all around. She whirls around to confront them and saves them the trouble of introductions. “I could see your halos.” (I start to hum Beyoncé to avoid thinking about this next part.) Metatron calls her an abomination and she begs to be allowed to just live her life. (She apparently works twelve hours shifts as a waitress, for heaven’s sake. It’s not like she’s exploiting her power.) Cas looks disturbed, apologizing even as he advances on her. She throws him across the grounds like he’s nothing and then advances on Metatron. Castiel kills her from behind. Oof. 

The Winchesters race to the next location, only to discover Sarah - the art dealer Sam flirted heavily with several seasons ago. She’s staying in a seriously adorable hotel room, with actual art on display. Dean greets her like he’s just dropped by for a casual visit. OMG Dean. Sam briefs her on the plan. Devil’s traps at all the exits, shotguns, and an exorcism ready to play on loop. We learn that Sarah’s married with a kid. (Sam gets a peek at what-could-have-been.) Sarah tells him that he’s changed - he’s more confident and grown up. She misses the old haircut. Awww… 

Crowley calls and starts counting down and when he reaches zero, Sarah starts to choke. She collapses. “You son of a bitch!” Dean shouts. “Son of a witch,” Crowley clarifies - his mother taught him a few useful spells. The Winchesters start tearing apart the room to try and find a hex bag. Crowley continues his villain monologue: he’s keeping all things hell-related far away from the Winchesters - no more demons getting close enough for them to kill. 

“I think the people you save, they're how you justify your pathetic little lives. The alcoholism, the collateral damage, the pain you've caused – the ONE thing that allows you to sleep at night, the one thing is knowing that these folks are out there, still out there happy and healthy because of you, you great, big, bloody heroes!”

I mean, when Crowley’s right, he’s right. 

Sarah dies. Ugh. UGH. Crowley gives an ultimatum: they stop their quest to close Hell or people keep dying. In rage, Dean hurls the phone across the room. When it breaks, they finally find the hex bag. (Me: But okay she only stopped breathing a minute ago? Start CCR and call 911!)

Back at the bunker, Sam is Not Okay™ and does not respond well to Dean’s attempts to cheer him up. Sam, who continues to look awful and exhausted, suggests giving in to Crowley. “We’ll kick it in the ass like we always do,” Dean insists. Rousing speech, babe. 

We fade to black, with everyone we love on dark paths of one kind or another.

______________________________

I NEED Quotes:

Well, that was weird with three exclamation points.

I NEED pie.

I can't wait to tear out those pretty green eyes.

First things first – what are you wearing?

You’d better find him toot-bloody-sweet. 

I know this is insane, but insane is kind of what we do.

______________________________

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[time-to-write-and-suffer]

Gather around the fire for another retelling of Eff’s wacky dreams, lads.

So, I was at this high school/college in a world where vampires were real and also accepted as a natural part of society? This particular college/high school was pretty fancy, but located in a part of town that was Bad, Actually. This is important for the plot. 

Now, this is pretty rare in my dreams, but I was actually me, as in myself. But, I was also supernaturally gifted with the ability to see the future as some sort of omniscient god. I also didn’t drink blood, but I was still among these other vampires? I guess we’ll call me a witchpire. 

The premonition thing is important because I actually saw the death of my crush. He was a very sexie vamp dude who was dumb as a bag of bricks, now that I think about it. I obviously wanted to save his life, but due to my future-seeing abilities, I couldn’t just tell him about his murderer, because he wouldn’t believe me, and because she would lash out if confronted and kill him and a bunch of others anyway. 

How was I supposed to save him? Well, you see, I also knew that he had a crush on me, but I was sort of uglie and didn’t put out, and never indicated I was into him as well, so he wasn’t entirely convinced I was even an option. I had to make him realize spending the evening hanging out with me was better than getting fucked by an extremely hot vampire woman who’s been flirting with him for months now.

The sexie vampire lady was actually some sort of succubus creature, who would lure in my crush with her feminine wiles and the use of some very dangerous pheromone perfume she left in her locker. She also defo put out and she was out for my man like flies on crap. Strangely, I never feared for my own life in any potential confrontation with her, indicating I was very powerful and protecting my crush and everyone else rather than myself. Thing is, everyone else loved her thanks to her magic, so it was highly likely people would jump to defend her even as she was murdering them. 

Anyway, vamp lady has been around for a little while now and is some sort of foreign exchange student. She’s about to leave town and this is the last night she can strike and eat my crush, so obviously I have to stop her. For some reason (probably the future sight), I just know that if I covertly stop her from sinking her teeth into my crush, she’ll just leave this town quietly without further trouble, which makes total sense. 

Apparently this is graduation night, and it’s literally night, and people decided to have an impromtu prom. An inPROMtu if you will. (Everyone was college-aged but acted like high schoolers and also prom?? Hence why I don’t know what the fuck this establishment was.) 

I, for some reason, feel like attending, which is the most unrealistic thing about this dream tbh. I even acknowledge my usual dislike for prom-like festivities but admit this is the final chance and it’s very casual and filled with my friends so I NEED to be there. Not because my crush is gonna get eaten or anything ... Apparently if I didn’t want to go, he’d be screwed ... literally. 

Conveniently, I have a long white dress stached in my locker. I put it on. Shit, I don’t have any cute shoes! It’s ok, the dress is very long and I’ll just attend in my socks, it’s not like I’ll dance a lot. 

So I’m in this long white dress and my mission is to convince my extremely horny and extremely dumb crush that 1) I’m into him and have been for a while 2) a better choice than vamp lady 3) will definitely put out eventually if he just put his goobies on ice for a few months and 4) he shouldn’t leave with the vamp lady tonight or he’d get hurt. Very hurt. Extremely hurt. 

Except DUN DUN DUN, the dress isn’t actually white nor long, it’s dark pink and barely reaches my mid-thigh. Why is this a problem? Well, now people can see my dirty knee-high football socks, and more importantly, my unshaven legs. 

We can’t have that. I know my crush’s life and our wholesome relationship is at stake here, but he’s a horny dumbass and if he sees me like this he’ll definitely run into the vamp lady’s arms to get himself fucked to death.

Luckily, the school is pretty close to where I live, so I decide to leave my crush in the presence of the woman who wants to murder him, to get myself some leggings and cute shoes to match my dress. I’m on an extremely tight schedule and also, did I mention this is the Bad Part of Town? Well, it’s apparently also a celebration night for other reasons, and people are going absolutely apeshit out there, exploding into fiery werewolves and throwing cars around and doing all sorts of crimes.

But it’s alright! I have a tiny revolver to help me reach my destination and I don’t bring anyone else to this unshaven-leg-scapade. On my way I will meet weird video-game challenges and side-quests that involve bothering guests at a restaurant by staring them in the eyes. I never found out if I saved my crush or not, but things were looking bad.

Oh but at least I got to high five Tan France on my way there! He was very nice and wished me good luck. He had little hands that were warm but kinda sweaty.