#i hope we can keep their legacy alive even if its just a little bit longer

[comchan]

[celticcrossanon]

Hello Celta, I think it’s funny as he** that Charles’ second wife (CSW) wants to supplant the first wife in every regard. Karma don’t play girlie, she’s a thousand times as vicious as any b**ch alive. The fact that she seems to care so deeply and desperately about it shows me just how deeply she was invested in removing Diana from Charles life. Just how much they both gaslighted Diana and tried to make her crazy making. Just how much she hated Diana. Please don’t ever change, CSW. Don’t change. The fact that she’s having a hard time even contemplating letting go, shows us again how deeply her negative emotions towards Diana were ingrained for so many years. It reminds me of Meghan’s control of Harry. She keeps on flipping the switch that engages that part of his reptilian brain to hate and envy William and to covet everything that’s rightfully his. They are two peas in a pod, Meghan and CSW. And the best part? Karma has now activated for them both, by the passing of one great lady, QEII who held their futures in the balance. Perhaps they both have the same trajectory, who knows? They both ignored the golden rule, don’t wish for others, what you don’t wish for yourself. It’ll be fun to see how this plays out.

On another concerning note. The Commonwealth Games are in peril. Both Australia and Canada have both pulled plans to host the 2026 and 2030 Games respectively. Both countries cite the cost of hosting the games as the reason. It seems the Commonwealth itself is collapsing at a much faster rate than we anticipated. Yet Charles twiddles his thumbs, holidaying up in Scotland, wearing the kilts that William supposedly refuses to appropriate. Hahaha lol. Yes Charles, let’s focus on the little things while the world collapses in upon us, and the ar**hole son and the much admired Tungsten wife wreak havoc down upon us. BTW Northywitch a YouTube tarot reader with some accuracy says that she feels the overseas duo with do something very stupid, like stage another security scare. Harry knows he’ll lose his bid to get IPP. She said the same before the NY car chase before it happened. She feels they will pull another stunt, either in Düsseldorf or Asia. I hope they know how the Europeans and Asians deal with threats. I wouldn’t want to test it. Lol. Plus I believe M15 and M16 have eyes on them.

Hi AnonymousRetired,

Camilla does seem to be set on a path of petty revenge and trying to supplant Diana. I wish she wouldn't, as it would be much better for her if she rose above it/let it go and concentrated on building her own legacy as Queen Consort, but you can't dictate what other people do, so all we can do is watch and wait for the fallout.

Harry and Meghan pulling another stupid stunt overseas would not surprise me, as it would get them the attention they both seem to crave. I hope they are called out for it if it happens, the same as their last stupid stunt (the car chase) was called out.

There has been quite a bit of discussion here in Australia about Victoria (a state) pulling out of hosting the Commonwealth Games. I believe it when they say it was for economic reasons. I hope some other country can step up and host the games, as otherwise it will be a big disappointment for the athletes.

I don't think the Commonwealth of Nations is falling apart. It seems to be going strong. What I do see is quite a few nations who are part of the Commonwealth and who have King Charles as their head of state becoming a republic over the next 10 - 20 years and rejointing the Commonwealth as an independent nation, like most of the member nations (the Commonwealth of Nations has 56 nations as its members, of which 15 have King Charles as their Head of State - the others have different monarchs or are republics). I can also see more nations joining the Commonwealth who do not have ties with the old British Empire (like Mozambique, Rwanda, Togo and Gabon).

EDITED TO ADD: I just read your post on @honeytothebee where you mention the difference in the feeling For King Charles III as compared to Queen Elizabeth 2 in the Commonwealth realms (the 15 members of the Commonwealth of Nations who have King Charles III as their Head of State). With respect to Australia, I agree with you. In my circle of friends (which is not the whole country, just a small part of it) there was a definite connection to Queen Elizabeth 2 and a feeling of respect, loyalty and love for her. With King Charles III, there is just indifference. I believe that Prince William could inspire a similar affection as was given to his grandmother, if he visits us and if his visit is not sabotaged by opposing interests like in Jamacia. We are currently feeling rather neglected down here (the new King does not consider us worth a visit etc). Other Aussies are free to disagree, of course. I can only speak for myself and my social circle, which is a very small part of the Australian people.

[cassyfarrar]

Genetics are little gifts from our parents,

your mothers button nose,

Daddies thick hair, the freckles that dot your checks. The unique shape of your ears that curve in such a way.

And in conjunction with these we have family traditions, like ham on easter, driving up north every summer,

A kiss on the forehead when you say goodnight.

As we grow we make the decision to either keep alive family traditions, or we make our own way, stumbling forward re-writing the story bit by bit, Some things we will keep consciously or not, following the footsteps of those before us

like a good night's kiss you’ll tenderly keep but also realizing you never really liked ham that much, so perhaps you'll serve turkey instead.

But some family heirlooms passed down cannot be escaped,

Like sounding like your father when your temper is lost on a broken plate,

Feeling like your lightweight mother when you finish your beer.

But where does one go when genetics and family tradition has both gifted you hereditary suicide?

It was the way of your father and the father before him, leaving a void in family scrapbooks, and being an elephant suffocating the room in every family gathering.

It's like the christmas gift of fuzzy slippers that aren’t even your size but they haunt you by sitting at the bottom your closet, you know you don’t want to wear them but no one give you the receipt

How do you build a legacy on a family that never gave you solid ground, it feels like you’re standing upon quicksand, there is no hero to hold on to, no standard. No role model of the loving family man

Instead The patriarch left his family decapitated as he earnestly kept the tradition alive by repeating what his father did before him.

And I have this grand epiphany that i cannot make the man proud by accomplishing his goals when his greatest goal in life was to lose his

So, when I have come to the fork in the road, glaring at me, asking if I will choose life or death.

The greater black or simplier white,

it simply not enough that I choose to kill such a tradition, I must take pride in making the choices i know he never did

I repeat it again and again

I repeat it when I visit my psychiatrist, her shopping list of temporary fixes and some stability that I can find in a bottle, we cross off another from the list. I take it home in a tiny orange jar pretending each pill is a small piece of hope as i swallow it down nightly reminding myself with each sip water to wash it down

“I’m making the choices you never did”

I repeat it when it seems impossible to leave my bed, almost if my pain has me eternally bound but instead i get up and start the car to meet a

friend over coffee, knowing it would have been easier to borrow away, to be the shut in,never let anyone know how i am suffering, but rather instead i chose to laugh with a friend

“I’m making the choices you never did”

I repeat it when I choose another self-help book from the shelf at the bookstore, and I try not to feel weirdly embarrassed when the shop clerk bags it.

I wonder if they notice the dark circles under my eyes and feel worried for me, a just wayford stranger.

“I’m making the choices you never did”

And i repeat it over and over when i just want to be sedated by something, a temporary fix, something to lean against like a crutch, something to put me to sleep like a sick lullaby

But with all my willpower I have left, the wine bottle stays in its place upon the top of my fridge.

I nearly scream “I’m making the choices you never did”

I repeat it when the tears will not stop, as if the floodgates where destroyed,

And I cannot convince myself of any good, and at the moment I believe the sun will not come up tomorrow, I am powerless and I'm at my wits end.

And I truly began to understand why you sought the meets to an end that was final, for a moment I felt empathy for you but instead, I put my weapon against myself down. And in what feels like a violent scream but was rather a groggy whisper for help I call that famous hotline, and woman with a soothing mature voice reminds me on the other end of the line ““you’re making the choices he never did”

I repeat it when i walk through the doors of the emergency room,

Feeling a tinge of guilt that my emergency wasn't one of a physical sense like the others in the room but rather of deep emotional turmoil from a brain wired differently that passed down to me. I don’t even feel the needles pierce my skin as they fit me for an iv,

And they ask me to strip off my clothes and become naked in the cold sterile room. I think about how it parallels how vulnerable I feel. A team of nurses and doctors who cycle in and out my room ironcily are there to keep me from my greatest threat,

Me.

just like you where you own greatest emieny, and when they draw another vile blood from my sore arms I clench my eyes shut and whisper

“I’m making the choices you never did”

And

Someday I'll repeat it like a pledge, oath. a sincere promise.

When i have a child of my very own and their tiny hand presses against mine, I’ll make sure with every ounce of my being that they will never know the pain of having a parent didn't want them,

They'll never know the knife in their back of betrayal of abandonment

I’ll refuse to be a coward, I won't run away from the responsibility of parenthood instead dive head first into it with the decision to make the choices you never did.

So, when it comes to family tradition I don’t just rewrite the book, I have decided to close it.

It ends with me, I won't just never follow your footsteps, I will make my own in the opposite direction. The apple didn’t just fall far from the tree, it never even grew there

And maybe i cropped off the block and perhaps we are cut from the same cloth but i am sowing

myself into something new, I am becoming something unrecognizable from your blueprint.

I am choosing the value of true autonomy cutting these family ties.

I am evolving, I am in every way changing. Transforming.

And this mantra that I scream in my soul, it's simply not just enough to never make the choices you did i am making the choices you did not”

And in a radical moment of true self love and utter defiance of those who came before me.

I am making the choice you simply could not

I chose to stay.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Super Mario Land 2 Localization: Part 2!

Grubby -> Grubbee Sharp

Grubby already had an English name, and it was funny because “grub” really refers to beetle larvae, but we think it’s a wide enough term that it can apply to bee larvae as well. Even the larvae keep the musical theme of these bees!

Guriguri -> Roto-Spiker

This one is clearly a relative of the Armored Spikers, but it’s its own individual, and behaves more like the classic Roto-Disc than the others. So it is first name Roto, middle name -, and last name Spiker.

Honebōn -> Hootie the Bone Fish

Yeah, that’s right! We are shamelessly salvaging the ridiculous name that Nintendo has cast aside, previously given to Propeller Piranha! We need to keep its legacy alive! Think of Hootie the Bone Fish as a “metaphorical” skeleton, the reanimated carcass of the very name “Hootie the Blue Fish”.

J-Son -> J-Son

J-Son is another name that is pretty much perfect as is! We have no improvements to make, not even small punctuation additions. Good job, J-Son!

Jack-In-The-Box -> Jack-In-The-Block

It is a very small change here, just one to make it a bit more unique, as well as more literal. That is not just any box, that is a Block! He is literally in the block! It even has the Super Mario World-era Block eyes!

Karakasa -> Parasoul

A karakasa is a parasol that has gained a soul, and there is really no more perfect name than Parasoul! It is almost too perfect, like there must be a catch, but there is none!

Karamenbō -> Killer Pillar

Sometimes you just have to give an inanimate object a Violent name, for Fun, and this is one of those times!

Keipu -> Snitch

Snitch is an existing word, but it works quite well here, because not only does she snitch your 1-Ups, but she rhymes with it, being a witch!

Kiddokatto -> Tinny Tim

Here we have, of course, a reference to Tiny Tim from A Christmas Carol, making this a very incredibly appropriate Christmas post, actually. Tinny Tim is Mario-sized and not tiny, but it’s ok because his name is not Tiny, but TINNY Tim, since he is a toy tin soldier!

Kurokyura -> Wackula

This one has two meanings! Firstly, this vampire is allied with Wario, and some media even portray him as one of Wario’s close advisors, so a W name is fitting. He is also just a wacky little dracula!

Kyororo -> Eyeflops

This one’s Japanese name is derived from the rapid darting of an eye back and forth, and it also darts toward Mario when it sees him, so I was hoping to come up with something based on that... but I couldn’t! Oh well! I like Eyeflops enough, including “flop” for extra Silly Vibe.

Kyotonbo -> Bug-Eye

Kyotonbo’s big ol’ eyes are its most iconic feature, and in fact what it is named after in Japanese. So in English, we draw attention to the fact that this bug is Bug-Eyed!

Minikyura -> Wackuwing

Wackuwing follows the convention of Wackula, just as the original names do. We originally considered Wackuling, since it is smaller, but it’s also wing-a-ling!

Mōgyo -> Moofin

This one was quite difficult, because there really is no bull/fish pun in English, at least that we could think of. So a combination of a bull and a fish related word will have to do, and I think Moofin is a cute word! It sounds a little like muffin.

Neijī -> Screwup

This is not an insult to this enemy’s character, just a very literal interpretation! It is a Screw, and it is usually in the ground, but when Mario appears, it comes Up!

No.48 -> No. 48

No. 48 was already perfect, and it still is! We just added a space to separate the two parts of its name. It feels a bit better, and it also adds literal Space to the name!

Noko Bombette -> Boomer Beetle

This one is pretty straightforward, just making it fit in with the rest of the Buzzy Beetle family, which it is still the funniest member of, with its funny eyes. Sorry if the word “Boomer” is tainted to you by this point, but we will still use it. The oversaturation of Wonder Park in the public consciousness is not OUR fault!

Pikku -> Tail o’ Newt

This is another pretty straightforward one, being mostly descriptive, though with a little contraction added for Flair. It felt right to describe it like this since it is an ingredient in the Witch’s Brew, and she would announce it as such before putting it in the cauldron.

Poro -> Loony Lander

This is a lunar lander... and it’s silly! A Loony Lander. It does not actually do any landing in game. Because it’s loony!

Ragumo -> Rigaramole

This name retains a bit of the spirit of the Japanese one, and also fits very well, I think! it uses “rigmarole” as a base, and this creature really is a bunch of rigmarole, I think. What’s going on here? Yeah.

Rerere -> Sweepin’ Sally

And here we have one of those good ol’ “individual names for a species” situations! Sally is sweepin’ up a storm!

That is all for part 2! We will conclude with part 3 tomorrow, see you then!

[sillydreamer]

Meet my OC (Heather)

Okay guys this isn’t a request or headcanons but I wanted to share something with you ;)

As you can see with the title i’mm going to show you an Elarya OC so here’s Heather (be nice to her ;D)

She’s from the obsidian guard and in a random story that I’m making she’s Valkyon’s girlfriend. Heather doesn’t replace Erika-Gardienne in the plot and her story is quite long so I’m going to divide it in parts, the first one being a small context of these story, the second part being her backstory before she ended up in the guard, a little explanation of her personality and then a behind the scenes (you will know what I mean when you reach that part). 

Name: Heather

Gender: She/her

Birth day: 28 of June (Cancer ♋️)

Age: 24 in the origins, 32-33 in a new era.

Species: Werewolf (Hyrbid of dragon)

Height: 1.82 cm

Guard: Obsidian guard

MBTI: ESTP-ESTJ

Familiar: Natch (Male molecat)

Li: Valkyon

Primal role: Since she belongs to obsidian guard Heather knows how to fight and uses this to protect others, also makes good plans and sometimes helps Valkyon when he needs it. She’s good with children and loves to show them anything that can be useful; form fighting skills to show them legends of Eldarya.

Secondary role: Heather worked in the library and as a teacher, the first job is to know more information about the dragons and their return while the second job was more “oficial”. Since they needed teachers Heather decided to sign in for that.

Weapon: She learned how to use an axe as a primal weapon and a sword as her second option (but I didn’t find an axe so she appears with the second one)

Abilities:

Strength

Quick learner

Social

Knowledge of mysterious things

Good listener

Disadvantages:

Sometimes selfish

Kind of naive

Ignores things 

Context:

You can see that she has some weird marks on her neck and face right? Well, they are a characteristic for her clan.

She lived in Sheni, a lost village that was far away from the lands of el, it was a close village that didn’t accept strangers very well, the villagers being mostly werewolves or night creatures. A quick note is that there were vampires in there, but they weren’t pure blood, this is going to be important later.

This village had a closed mind and follow a single philosphy; they believed that the dragons were coming back and this will mean the reborn of Eldarya, a new era that will change everything.

Her clan followed this with hearth but decided to give a little push to this “prophecy” and they ended up learning dark magic  this situation got a little bit out of hand for them. The thing here is that this dark magic can be passed through bloodline and one of Heather’s ancestors was a great dark-magic user and this make that its descendants inherit that ability.

But why did they believe this? Apparently she had a dragon ancestor that told them to wait for their return, this happened because, when the dragons saw that their whole specie will disappear some of them reproduced with normal faeries, hoping that they offspring could protect Eldarya from future danger. And this didn’t end up well because we know that the guard of el and other faeries hunted these descendants trying to save the crystal but this was unknown for them.

Heather has a few of these dragon powers but since they got extinct a long time ago and they weren’t any pure dragon to teach her how to use these powers they are kind of useless, that and the fact that a lot of generations had been passing and the dragon-blood is less and less each time.

Still she can transform into a dragon but then Heather needs to rest for a long time (one time she slept for a week or so) and she can use blue fire that can be a characteristic of fox people but in this case is because of dark magic.

Speaking again about dark creepy stuff, the marks on her body are prove of this, since her family has been using this for a long time it became part of them. They can hide it if they want but Heather is used to have them visible. 

Inside of the clan they have a “chosen one” or a “selected by the spirits” which is a member of her family that is born with more of this dark magic and it’s function is to keep their communication with the deceased, sometimes speaking with the daemons. Heather isn’t the selected but her younger sister is. There have been a lot of “chosen ones” through her family, almost like a legacy.

Do you remember what I said about vampires? Well, it’s not that they hate them, is just that they have very different points of view and they crash a lot. An example is with the vampires of Yaqut (yes, Karenn and Nevra’s clan). These two villages are a few days of distance (maybe some weeks) but decided to ignore each other to the point that they aren’t sure if the other village is alive or not, Yaqut hates halfbloods and the few ones that managed to escape moved to Sheni, giving them knowledge about other dark things.

Despite her being an hybrid of dragon-werewolf and perhaps vampire (I mean, it’s possible and these people are weird) her predominant specie is werewolf, which means that Heather has the habilitiess that a normal werewolf has. As example; shapeshfting into wolves, super strength, a great stamina, almost night vision, great smelling, others. 

Small detail; she has fangs because some werewolves develop them.

Another detail; by some reason her village has a nocturnal life and sleep during the day to work at night. This is because they use the moon cycle and the starts to guide themselves and is the reason why Heather’s skin is pale; she hadn’t been that exposed to the sun. (My baby needs sunbaths please)

Backstory:

Heather’s father is the leader of the clan which allowed her to have almost what she wanted. She wasn’t the heir of the clan, that was her older brother, Duncan. By the other side her younger sister Moon (I know that I don’t have creativity putting names but what can I do?) was the “chosen one” of the clan which means that she had other responsibilities such as developing her magic to her limit.

Even if she didn’t have a mission like her siblings she had enough determination to be useful and decided to be her brother’s right hand when he became the leader of the clan, that’s why se started worrying about others and their needs.

Heather’s mother was gone, she doesn’t remember her well and her father used to say that she died when Moon was born and burried in the forest.

Heather was a happy girl and loved to explore the forest with her siblings, they were warned about other creatures outside of their small village and told them to hide whenever something weird happened, always telling them to be disguised and don’t let anybody see them.

One day Moon walked away and was lost in the forest, Heather and Duncan panicked and returned to the village to ask for help. When the adults finally found Moon she was missing her left eye, but Moon didn’t say what happened and she only had a deep blue eye and the other one being white with a scar.

When they started growing up the relationship between Heather and Moon started changing. Moon was quiet and spent a lot of time in the forest, exploring and developing her magic in secret, meanwhile their grandmother was trying to train her.

While Moon was being a rebel gal Heather and his brother Duncan continued with their training to become leader and right hand. He was compromised with a girl of their age to ensure the bloodline even if they were just 14. Heather had a talent manipulating the fire that the dark magic provided her and learned how to use an axe and a sword as weapons.

Duncan an her grew very closely while the relationship with Moon was more distant with time. One day Moon went to the forest alone as usual but this time she never came back.

At first her family wasn’t worried, she used to leave and return a lot of times but the time passed by and the people of the clan got nervous. The werewolves searched through all of the territory but when they found out that Moon’s track continued deep to the forest and beyond the limits that the clan had the panic started.

The winter was coming and this forced the villagers to stop with the search. They needed Moon because she was an important piece for the dragon’s prophecy, they needed her because she would tell them what to do and this caused more frustration in the people.

Heather was devoted to her family and decided to search for her sister by her own, she understood the importance of Moon and wanted to bring her back. Her father allowed her to go when the winter ended but it lasted a few months more.

Once it was over Heather packed up and began to search, finding information about a werewolf with a missing eye and a deep-blue look in the other.

As she was told Heather kept the secret of her clan, only saying that her sister ran away from home and she was searching for her. 

After months of looking and searching Heather was in a bar and heard rumors of a mysterious werewolf that helped a guy for being crushed by some rocks. The man telling the story was the father of that child and he said to his friends that he would be eternally grateful with the guard of el.

Following that hint Heather was able to find the location of it. It had been two years since Moon left home and Heather really missed her, decided to try her luck she entered in the shelter under the identity of a lost villager.

Heather ended up finding Moon and her sister was surprised that someone was able to find her. The older one tried to convince Moon to return back home but her sister didn’t listen. 

At the end Heather joined the guard to spend more time with her and at the end, make whatever she needs to do to convince Moon to return back home.

Personality:

She’s kind, yeah she is.

I know that she grew up in a group that told her that she was important because of the dragon-blood but that group also showed her that being that mythical creature meant that she was there to help others, but the world wasn’t prepared for this.

She doesn’t talk about her home though, she tries to keep it as a secret because that’s what they had taught her. But living outside showed her that the world wasn’t that cruel and she ended up enjoying the experience of meeting new people and chatting with them.

It’s a social butterfly and responsable girl, the friend that can go out to party but return home to finish homework on time.

Daddy’s girl, of course she is.

Behind the scenes:

Heather is based in another OC from an original story that I’m planning to write (but I’m dumb and procrastinate 99.99%of the time)

Her appearance doesn’t change much between these two versions, she has small purple tips in the hair in the original version.

In the original story she has another sister but in this universe Heather only has two siblings.

This idea started as a joke like “Okay what would happen if I mix up her with Valkyon” (because they looked cute) and here we are, me creating a whole story with her.

In the original story she used to have a boyfriend with tanned skin and white hair mostly because I have a thing for them, let me be please.

I simp for her, expect to see more of Heather over here.

[buckyjamesbarnes1917]

Endlessly

A/N: Reader is a survivor of the Super Soldier Serum Experiment and continues to be haunted by the nightmares & terrors she had to endure during her time as one of HYDRA's pets. One day when she's thinking her existence simply doesn't matter in the world, someone from her past showed up unexpectedly. This does contain a little bit of TFATWS spoilers!

Warnings: Suicidal Thoughts, Nightmares/terrors, and torture & death. (All three & flashbacks are in italics)

“P-p-please no, you don’t have to do this, I have a family,”  said a man trembling and begging for mercy on his life with tears rolling down at his face at the end of the barrel of the gun

I just stood there with the same cold, blank stare that stayed upon my face on every mission, mind unfazed, no emotions, the way HYDRA created me. I still felt part of my mind screaming “Don’t! He’s done nothing wrong!” but my mind couldn’t fight against the forces & the control HYDRA has on me. I pulled the trigger and muttered, “The mission is finalized.” After I determined the man to have no sign of life, I stepped over the body to then feel his hands grasped my ankles and then I saw his bloodied face frozen with an agonizing expression.

I awoke suddenly to then start panicking, thinking I was still within HYDRA’s facility where they still had control over me & tortured me to do their biddings. After I finally calmed my breathing down, I reminded myself, “You’re okay, you’re safe in your own apartment, HYDRA fell with S.H.I.E.L.D when the Avengers took them down, just continue the breathing exercises, and everything will be alright.” Except, it’s not going to be alright, though doing the breathing exercises keeps my breathing under control, I’m still being tormented by my nightmares. I sighed and got out of bed, maybe a shower will help me clear my thoughts.

~Meanwhile, on a plane to America~

“What’s the story about the name Zemo was talking about when we were on our way to Madripoor?” Sam asked as Bucky thinks back to the conversation.

“To beat Karli, we need a lot more allies, I suggest we start by enlisting the help of Y/N L/N,” Zemo said as Sam looked confused & Bucky’s facial expression tweaked 

“Who-” Sam started to say until Bucky interrupts him, “Don’t you ever mention that name again.”

“I’m sorry, so let’s talk about the plan,” Zemo responds as Bucky went back in his seat.

Bucky sighed and said, “Her name is one of the people I have to make amends with, she was one of HYDRA’s experiments.”

“Hold up, I thought Zemo got rid of all the super soldiers, why did he spare her?” Sam responded as he and Bucky finally exit the plane

“He spared her life because he had a feeling that she could be free from the controls of HYDRA and so that she could try to live a normal life, like me,” Bucky said as Sam looked at him confused and asked, “How do you know that?”

“Before The Dora Milaje took him to The Raft, he knew she was on my list when he went to cross his name off. Zemo didn’t give me a definite answer why he told me, he just felt like it,” Bucky responded as Sam nodded an okay

“You think she can help us?” Sam asked as Bucky nodded his head and then said, “But it’s not going to be easy to convince her to join the cause.”

“Why? Did you do something to her that caused her to be on your list?” Sam asked 

Bucky sighed and said, “You don’t even want to know.” as Sam stayed silent, a sign that he understands and doesn’t want to push it

“I’m going to visit Isaiah before heading home to Sarah and the boys, want to tag along?” Sam asked as Bucky shook his head

“No, I’m going make amends with someone I should’ve made them with a long time ago,” Bucky responded as he only has one mission on his mind.

~Back in New York, a day later~

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” I kept whispering to myself, repeating the mantra

The shower did help me clear my thoughts, but throughout the day, I couldn’t shake the dread & despair the nightmares and terrors brought me. I know it wasn’t my fault for all those deaths, I was a weapon that HYDRA created and used, but HYDRA doesn’t exist anymore so I’m not a weapon. I don’t know why Helmut Zemo spared my life that day he confronted me, I have no place in this world nor would be of any use to make a difference.

“Why am I still alive? I’m nothing and nobody even cares about me nor care I still exist.” I whispered to myself as I rest my head on my knees

Then I heard a knock on my apartment door and stayed silent to see if I can recognize if one of my neighbors is behind the door. I got up from the floor and composed myself together before I go up to the door to check through the peephole and I suddenly froze when I saw who was on the other side, James Barnes aka The Winter Soldier, HYDRA’s former powerful weapon. A lot has changed and its been a long time since I came face to face with him.

“Y/N, I know you’re behind the door. Can you let me in so we can talk?” James whispered so I can only hear him

“You know he’s changed too, he isn’t The Winter Solider anymore, let him in,” I could hear my conscience telling me

I then started to unlock the door and opened it to him standing there, with a concerned face.

“What are you doing here?” I asked as James walked into my apartment

“Your name’s on my list,” James responded as I looked at him in confusion

“What list? Your list of people to kill or torture?” I asked as James hands me a notebook with his writing that shows my name under the title, “Amends”

“I’m no longer the Winter Soldier. I’m James “Bucky” Barnes and you’re part of my efforts to make amends,” James said

I was about to ask something, but then James interrupts me by responding, “I heard you.”

I started to develop a confused look on my face and then realized, with his enhanced hearing, he heard what I said minutes before he knocked on the door. I looked away from him and mutter, “Of course you did.”

“How long have they been happening?” James asked as I said in response, “Since before & returning from the Blip. Glad to see you’re looking well, therapy going good?” adding a little irritation at the end since therapy hasn’t been working for me

James sighed and then responds, “I’ve been having them too so, you’re not alone.” 

“I thought therapy was suppose to help with that,” I said with a tone of shock in my voice that maybe he hasn’t changed much

“It’s helping, but not as much as it needs to.” James replied 

 James sighed and then said, “I’m sorry for what happened in the past, all the pain & torture I caused you as the Winter Soldier. I know I can’t take it back, but if you’ll allow me, I want to make it up to you. I need your help.”

I contemplated accepting his apology to then say, “Okay. What do you need help with?”

“Are you aware of the Flag Smashers?” James asked as I nodded my head in response “Well, their leader, Karli decided to lay low after what Walker did to one of her followers. We need to be prepared for her next move when it happens, but Sam & I can’t do all this by ourselves, so will you help us when the time comes?”

“Why me? You heard what I said, I’m nothing, Zemo should’ve ended me when he had the chance,” I responded as James looked away

“You are not nothing, you are a survivor and a fighter. Zemo spared your life because he believed you would make a difference in this world and protect it when the time comes. I know that you are strong enough to stand your ground and I believe in you,” James said as I stood there, stunned not knowing that his words would make that much of an impact on me.

“Okay,” I responded as James looked back at me, “I’ll help you and Sam take down the Flag Smashers, whatever it takes.”

I could see James thinking about something so I asked, “James, what are you thinking about?”

“How would you feel about taking a trip down to Delacroix, Louisiana? You get a break from the city and you get to meet Sam so you can start to build your trust in him,” James responded 

“Think that would do me good since I haven’t gotten much sleep, also sorry for getting irritated with you,” I said as James laughs and smiles at me

“It’s fine, doll, also call me Bucky,” Bucky responded as he starts to back up and turn around to leave my apartment with me walking behind him

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile or laugh like that before,” I thought to myself as I start to smile at the ground, “It’s definitely having an effect on me.”

As we’re on our way to Louisiana, he caught me up on what happened overseas, including the incident with John Walker.

“So wait, Walker wouldn’t give up the shield and felt no remorse for what he did to Steve’s legacy? What an asshole,” I said as Bucky chuckles in agreement.

“Yeah, Sam and I took the shield back, which left Walker with a broken arm,” Bucky responds as he looks at his vibranium arm that’s resting against mine.

“Hey, remember, you’re free from HYDRA, you don’t have the arm they provided you, and you learned to resist the trigger words,” I reminded him as he nods his head

“I’m sorry if this brings up the nightmares, but are they about your victims or is it just your subconscious making you feel what you do?” Bucky asked as I sighed

“They’re  just about me remembering what I’d done and how much control HYDRA had over me, it’s just hard to shake off the feeling of dread & despair after experiencing them,” I responded as I felt Bucky move his hand into mine and squeezing it in reassurance

“It’ll be okay, maybe the change of scenery will help the both of us,” Bucky whispered 

After we arrived two days before, we went to the docks where we saw everyone helping out Sam and his family with the boat. Bucky and I walked over to the boat when we see Sam talking to two locals when Bucky decided to help them get an equipment out of the trunk.

“Thanks Buck, this her?” Sam asked as Bucky nodded, “So will you help us?”

“Yes, I will help you with the Flag Smasher, need help with the boat?” I responded as Sam said, “Hope you don’t mind”

“No, we don’t mind. Where do you want us?” Bucky asked as Sam pointed us to where he wanted us

As we were working, I notice out of the corner of my eye, a woman who looks to be Sam’s sister, walking along the dock with a clipboard.

“Hey, I’m Bucky,” I hear Bucky say as the woman stops in front of him

“Sarah, nice to meet you, and who are you?” Sarah responds to then turn her attention to me

“Y/N, nice to meet you too, also don’t mind Bucky, he’s a bit of a flirt,” I said teasingly as Sarah laughs and Bucky makes a face at me that says “Really?”

“What? You know I’m right because if I recall, in the 1940s before you went to war, you were one of Brooklyn’s biggest flirts, I read about it at the exhibit,” I responded towards Bucky’s way 

Bucky shook his head and smiled to the ground, thinking no one would notice, but Sam did.

After I finished up with what I was tasked to do, Sarah asked me to help her out with something so I got off the boat and followed her to where we needed to go, leaving Bucky and Sam sitting there. Sam walks over to the cooler and grabbed two Heineken to then hand one to Bucky.

“Alright, so what’s going on between you two?” Sam asked as Bucky sighed

“We’re just focusing on me making it up to her and completing my efforts to make amends with her,” Bucky responded as he took a sip

“Bucky, I’ve seen that look in your eyes, you’re in love with her, how long has that feeling been there?” Sam asked, unknowingly oblivious to the fact I returned from helping Sarah and was standing nearby.

“I remember seeing her at the facility after Steve broke the trance, the first thought that came to my mind was, “Who was this girl with the blank cold stare?” then they commanded her to do her task and I could see for a split second that her eyes showed emotions. A split second, I knew she still had the parts to her that made her human,” Bucky responded as he then said, “That’s when it happened.”

“So after HYDRA fell, you forgot about her or did that memory only existed in the Winter Soldier persona?” Sam said as Bucky got up to stand

“After Hydra fell and I started to gain my mind back, I always thought back to her, wondering where she was and what she was up to. One day, I decided I was going to see for myself, so I found her. When I saw her that first time since that day at the facility, Sam, I wanted to make my presence known to her, she looked so lost and knowing what me as the Winter Soldier did to her, not knowing if she even remembers it, I didn’t want to force myself to stand face to face with her because I didn’t know if she was ready then to talk to me or if it was going to jeopardize her healing from the torture and the horrors of HYDRA. So I left, though it pained me that she never would’ve known someone still cared about her, and I wish I could’ve helped her with her nightmares before now,” Bucky said as he runs his hands over his face

“Y-you really feel that way?” I finally spoke, making my presence known as Sam and Bucky looked towards my direction

“Okay, that’s my cue. I’ll let you guys talk and have your privacy,” Sam said as he got off the boat and left, leaving me and Bucky alone on the docks

“Yes, I do feel that way and I am so sorry that you’ve been feeling that way for a long time,” Bucky responded with tears welling up in his eyes as I go on the boat to stand in front of him

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” I said putting my hands on his face, feeling one of his hands wrap around my wrist, “I’m glad that you did what you felt was right for me no matter how bad you felt about doing it. You were willing to be patient until the day you felt I would be ready to face you again.”

“So you’re not mad at me?” Bucky asked as I leaned in closer to the point where our lips are close to touching

“James Bucky Barnes, despite all the torture and pain you put me through as the Winter Soldier, I still forgave you at my own pace which you allowed me to have. That makes you one of the amazing guys I have the pleasure of knowing,” I said as I finally kissed him, making the first move

Bucky kissed back and moved one of his hands to my hair and the other to settle on my waist as we kissed in the sunset. We pulled away and I looked up to see Bucky smiling down at me, then he reached to one of his back pockets to pull out his notebook and handed it to me.

“So shall we cross off your name off the list?” Bucky asked with a smirk plastered on his face

I smiled back and said, “Definitely” as I took the notebook & pen from him and crossed out my name.

“Feels good huh?” I asked him as he laughed

“It does, so should we start finding a hotel to crash at before our flight back home?” Bucky asked

Before I could even answer or make a suggestion, we hear Sam from behind us, “You guys can stay at our place if you want to.”

I was silently glad that Bucky took up on Sam’s offer because that night was the first night in years where I had a peaceful sleep and it was in the arms of someone I loved & trusted in the house of people we felt comfortable around.

[shift-shaping]

Solas/Surana Party Banter round whatever

hello. here it is again, but different this time! SIGNIFICANTLY. there's way more and it's a little bit ~angst-y~. anyway, here's the previous version, and here's a preface to this post.

-

In case you aren't aware of what my girl's Whole Deal is, she was in love with Alistair during the Blight and he sacrificed himself, which Sucked Balls for her. She wandered around in the mountains for most of the past ten years, and now she's in the Inquisition because she doesn't know what else to do with her life.

content warnings: brief mention of colorism

Lots of banter under the cut

Solas: Surana. Now that you have joined the Inquisition, what title do you prefer to use?

Surana: What title do you use?

Solas: None. But you have earned many.

Surana: 'Warden,' I guess. I don't really care.

Solas: Not 'Hero of Ferelden?'

Surana: No. Surana is fine.

.

Solas: You dislike your title?

Surana: It is inaccurate. Alistair was the real hero, and he died fighting the archdemon --I only ever did what I had to do.

Solas: Hm.

.

Solas: You do not think yourself a hero?

Eirwen: *sighs* If a man is ordered to save a child from a burning building or else be killed himself, is he really a hero? No, he is not.

Eirwen: Had I not been made a Warden, I would have been killed or made Tranquil. I did not choose to do the right thing. I was forced to.

.

Surana: Why do you keep asking me so many questions, Solas?

Solas: You are an historical anomaly. An elven mage elevated to the status of legendary hero.

(If the Inquisitor is an elf, a mage, or both:

Eirwen: Well apparently it’s not that anomalous.

Solas: Even still.)

Solas: I have seen echoes of your victories in the Fade alongside reflections of your losses. You have overcome a great deal. Do not be so quick to dismiss your own story.

Surana: Your dreams are lying to you. That legacy is not mine to claim.

Solas: I will not try to convince you otherwise, but know this: whatever bitterness you feel towards your legacy, you will gain far more accepting it than you ever would fighting its tide.

Surana: This isn't really about me, is it?

Solas: It never is.

.

[After All New, Faded for Her]

Eirwen: I’m sorry about Wisdom, Solas.

Solas: I appreciate that. Thank you.

Eirwen: It must have had a wealth of knowledge. It is a shame to lose so much for so little.

Solas: There is a difference between wisdom and knowledge.

Eirwen: Right, yes. I remember a joke about that. Would you like to hear it?

Solas: Not particularly.

Eirwen: *clears her throat* Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is knowing it does not belong in a fruit salad.

Solas: ...

Eirwen: Too soon, I suppose. Sorry.

.

Solas: Thank you, Surana.

Eirwen: I told you, Dorian and I aren’t fond of that particular vintage. And we thought you’d appreciate the earthy tones.

Solas: Thank you for that as well, I think, but that is not what I as referring to.

Eirwen: Oh?

Solas: Your joke. You… it was unexpected. But not bad at all.

Eirwen: Oh. Well, that’s about the least dirty joke I know. Want to hear one a drunken dwarf told me in the Deep Roads?

Solas: Another time, perhaps.

Eirwen: Ah, you wouldn’t like it anyway.

.

Solas: Surana. You said before that a man ordered to save a child from a burning building under threat of death would not be a hero.

Solas: I disagree.

Surana: Oh?

Solas: The man threatened with death may not see himself as particularly noble, but the child will always see him as their savior. Regardless of his motivations, he will always be a hero to the child he saved.

Surana: So no matter who or what made him do it, he is still a good person because another thinks him such?

Solas: I did not say that. 'Heroic' and 'good' are not necessarily the same.

.

Surana: So what is your point, then? That I should make people call me 'Hero' at Skyhold?

Solas: My point is that you should not feel guilty if they believe you to be someone you are not. You cannot control them, and attempts to the contrary will only serve to make you miserable.

Surana: Why do you care so much? Why does it matter to you how I feel about being called 'the Hero of Ferelden'?

Solas: It --doesn't. You are right, of course. And I meant no offense.

Surana: That's not-- I'm not offended, I'm curious. I want to know why it matters to you, a random wandering apostate, whether I call myself a hero or a bastard or a drunkard or nothing at all.

Solas: It is as I said: elven mages are rarely given the level of respect and admiration that you are. It is a shame you see no benefit in that.

Surana: Benefit? Like what, seeing my ears cut off in statues? My staff turned into a sword? My skin lightened in paintings and my relationships reduced to spectacle or seduction?

Surana: Maybe I am offended. I would love to be an anonymous apostate. I was, for a while, but I couldn't stop trying to live up to a version of me that doesn't exist, never has, and never will. The real hero is dead, and you have me instead.

Solas: You must let that be enough, Surana.

Surana: It isn't.

.

Surana: Solas, you have dreamt in all sorts of places, right?

Solas: Yes.

Surana: Have you ever --well, did you ever see the Battle of Denerim, in your dreams?

Solas: Not as you would remember it.

Surana: Of course not. But... I mean-- did you--

Solas: It is done, Surana. You cannot linger there.

Surana: How do I do that? How do I stop seeing it?

Solas: You do not. But instead of letting it weigh you down, let that pain be what pushes you forward. Focus on where you must be, and what you must do. You are needed here, now, exactly as you are, not as the person you were in Denerim. Whoever others think you are, you must go forward as who you know you are. If you lose sight of that, you are lost.

.

Surana: Solas, thank you.

Solas: For what?

Surana: You know full well what.

Solas: I try to help, when I can. The pain you carry is... familiar.

Surana: Familiar?

Solas: You feel guilt simply for being alive, as though self-flagellation will make you worthy of existence.

Surana: Self-flagellation? *dryly* You have a way with words, you know.

Solas: *just as dryly* You flatter me.

[If neither Solas nor Surana are romanced]

Surana: You deserve the flattery.

Solas: Is that a compliment, from the Hero of Ferelden herself?

Surana: I take it back. You're an ass and I hate you.

Solas: *chuckles*

.

[After Here Lies the Abyss]

Surana: I didn’t know you disliked the Wardens so much, Solas.

Solas: It was not worth mentioning.

Surana: Not until it became acceptable to criticize us, you mean.

Solas: What have the Wardens actually accomplished in terms of understanding the Blight? Do you honestly feel you understand it any better than you did before you became one?

Surana: Is that a serious question? Do I understand it better after witnessing its ravages than I did when I’d merely read about them in a book?

Solas: What did the Wardens teach you? What did you learn from them, about the Blight?

Surana: More than I will ever tell you.

Solas: *bitterly* Ah. Of course.

.

Surana: You have always been an apostate, have you not?

Solas: By your Chantry’s definition, I suppose.

Surana: My chantry? Am I the Divine now, too? *scoffs* Anyway, you have never spent time in a Circle.

Solas: No.

Surana: Then one thing I will tell you about the Wardens is this: there is no other path to freedom for many mages than to join them. You were not dragged from your home in chains because of what you are. You were not barred from dreaming, nor threatened with Tranquility when you failed to perform a difficult spell.

Solas: You should not have had to make that choice, Surana.

Surana: Yet I did, because it was the only one I had. And the Wardens are all the world has to counter the Blight. You can disagree from your tower in Skyhold or your hut in the woods or whatever, but we are working with what is available to us. Come up with a real solution and I will listen. But I’m uninterested in ignorant complaints from someone who was not there.

.

Surana: It’s not my Chantry.

Solas: Poor wording, on my part.

Surana: I don’t even like the Chantry.

Solas: Abelas. I meant no offense.

Surana: Yes, you did. Or you just don't care.

Solas: What would you have me say, Warden?

Surana: Nothing. Just be quiet.

.

Solas: Where was home to you, Surana? Before the Circle?

Surana: *sighs* An orphanage in Denerim’s alienage.

Solas: Really? Huh. In that case, I would have expected you to sound more like Sera.

(Sera, if present: What? You think all city elves sound the same?

Solas: You are from the same section of the same city. Why would you not have the same accent?)

Surana: I don’t sound like Sera because I was beaten in the Circle until I spoke 'properly.’ No offense to Sera, of course.

(Sera, if present: More reasons to be glad I’m not like you two.)

.

Solas: I am sorry, Surana. Living in the Circle must have been difficult, and I imagine being a Warden during the Blight was no easier.

Surana: *sighs* It’s alright. You couldn’t have known.

Solas: I should have tried. I have done you a disservice, and I hope you can forgive me.

Surana: Maybe. Possibly. Did you bring any of that wine with you?

Solas: Unfortunately not.

Surana: *playfully* Then, no.

Surana: …But please, call me Eirwen.

Solas: Eirwen. Ma nuvenin.

.

[After Surana hears Cole and Solas banter for the first time]

Surana: Oh! I think I got that one, it's --oh, wait. No, that can't be it.

Cole: You were close, though.

Solas: Nearly had it.

.

[If Eirwen is romanced by an elven Inquisitor]

Solas: *playfully* For all your talk of wanting anonymity, Eirwen, you seem incapable of avoiding spectacle.

Surana: Is this about the drunken bear? I already apologized for that.

Solas: No. You and the Inquisitor. Two of the most powerful elves in Thedas, together?

Surana: Jealous?

Solas: Not for the reason you think.

Inquisitor: How could we resist?

Surana: We are both very pretty.

OR

Inquisitor: One day we will be free of all of this. Together.

Solas: For your sakes, I hope you are right.

.

[If Solas is romanced and Eirwen's personal quest is completed]

Solas: You no longer consider yourself a Grey Warden, Eirwen?

Surana: Did the Inquisitor tell you that?

Solas: Yes. You threw your badge into the Abyss.

Surana: Bit dramatic, I suppose. I was having a moment.

Solas: Evidently.

.

Surana: It almost felt traitorous, honestly.

Solas: Why? You were forced to join the Grey Wardens, were you not?

Surana: They still saved my life.

Solas: And condemned you to an early death. They bought you time, nothing more.

Surana: But time is all any of us have, isn't it?

Solas: No. You have a name, and experience, and the influence to pull the strings behind the world.

Surana: Careful. You'll make the Inquisitor jealous.

Solas: I am not attempting to flatter you. I am only telling you what you must already know: that you are more than a Warden, and always have been.

.

Surana: Where will the two of you go, once this is over?

Inquisitor: (Somewhere quiet) A place where we can be left alone.

OR (Somewhere fun) Someplace with good wine.

OR (Home) North. Where my people are.

Solas: An appealing prospect, vhenan.

Inquisitor: What about you, Eirwen?

Surana, based on the Inquisitor's answer to the previous question: (Somewhere quiet) Somewhere without so many damn demons.

OR (Somewhere fun) I was thinking Rivain. I've heard the food is excellent.

OR (Home) The Deep Roads. Where my people are.

.

[If neither Solas nor Eirwen are romanced]

Solas: Have you ever learned any elven, Eirwen?

Surana: Unfortunately not. A few words here and there, a long time ago. It wasn’t exactly taught in the Circle.

Solas: Would you like to?

Surana: I –oh. I hadn’t –um.

Solas: *chuckles* You do not have to learn.

Surana: No! I would love to. From you, I assume?

Solas: I cannot imagine you were going to learn it from Sera.

Sera, if present: I prefer real words, thanks.

.

Solas: What elven words do you recall, from your alienage?

Surana: Ah… okay. Hahren, that’s like… elder, or leader. The tree in the middle was called the vhenadahl. Lethallan is like friend, or ally, or maybe even sister?

Solas: Do you know what vhenadahl means?

Surana: It must be something about a tree.

Solas: And where is it, in the alienage?

Surana: A central place, somewhere everyone could see it.

Solas: And what is another word for the middle of something that lovers might call each other?

Surana: …Heart?

Solas: So what do you think 'vhena’ means, if 'dahl' is tree?

Surana: Uh... heart?

Solas: Yes. But also 'home.' The vhenadahl was both the home of your people, and the heart of the alienage.

Sera, if present: Just call it what it is --a big stupid tree.

.

Surana, in elven: *haltingly, mumbling* [Her early leaf’s a flower… but] –shoot.

Solas, in elven: [But only so…?]

Surana: M- it starts with an ’m’…

Solas: Take your time.

Surana: Meh- malath?

Solas: *laughs*

Surana: Is that wrong? Shit, that must be wrong.

Solas: Not wrong, per say, but perhaps premature.

Surana: What? What did I say?

Solas: Do not concern yourself with it, lethallan.

Surana: …was it dirty?

Solas: No.

Surana: …then what was it?

Solas: Patience, Eirwen.

.

Surana: I found out what ‘ma lath’ means.

Solas: I would expect nothing less from such a gifted student.

Surana: Mhm. It’s –well. I’m glad I said it, but you were right. It was premature.

Solas: I agree. Though...

Surana: Though?

Solas: *chuckles* I think this is neither the time nor place.

Surana: What is, then?

Solas: When I have you alone, Eirwen.

Surana: *laughs awkwardly* Maker's breath...

.

Sera + Surana

(If Solas has begun "teaching Eirwen elven")

Sera: So… you and Droopy ears.

Surana: Why do you call him that?

Sera: Cause he’s all –I don’t know, sad or wha'ever.

Sera: Anyway. Teaching you 'the ways of the elves,’ is he?

Surana: It’s just not a very good nickname, frankly.

Sera: Well I don’t want to know what you call him.

Surana: Certainly not droopy.

Solas, if present: *snorts*

Sera: *laughs* Ew! Keep it to yourselves, then!

.

Solas: Eirwen, I–

Solas: I am sorry we had to cut our lessons short.

Surana: It’s… I understand. We… no, you were right.

Solas: Please, Eirwen.

Surana: Perhaps, in another life, another time, we could have–

Solas: You are a bright light in a dark world. You will always be important to me, for whatever that is worth.

.

Surana: Can I ask you a question, Solas?

Solas: Of course.

Surana: It's not about me, is it?

Solas: I--

Surana: It's about trying to fight the tide.

Solas: Eirwen...

Solas: I am so, so sorry.

Surana: Telanadas, hahren.

Solas: Ma nuvenin, vhenan.

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

it wasn’t power i coveted; it was acceptance.

Titans 3.06

y’know, i was just thinking the other day that 1.06/1.07 and 2.06/2.07 were the best episodes of their respective seasons, so i have great hopes going in to this one. fingers crossed!

as always, typing this up as i see the episode.

SPOILERS AHEAD

1. oh! um... that was a Cold Open, all right. *nudges* get it? cold? because it’s snowing? and two people got murdered in cold blood? eh?

... oh, i’ve just started.

1.5. i wonder if “i want to be sipping pina coladas on a beach with you” is the new “i’m just one day away from retiring.” i was so on edge after that--i kept expecting that car to explode. even so, the way they died wasn’t an anticlimax: brutal, and quick. 

1.75. so i’m assuming that’s the titular lady vic! this show better bring up why this doll was important or why these two cops needed to be killed, and not leave it to the ether like jericho’s little mindscape jaunt in 2.08 (i’m still dying to know what that was about???)

2.

i love how deliberately unappealing wayne manor is. 

(sorry for the pic quality. i don’t have hbo max! ssshhh.)

2.3. i love the many references to “home” and “our house” when they’ve been here for less than a week and saw one of their friends get blown into pieces. i mean, i unironically love it: home is where family is, after all!

2.5. i’d like to say that kom is playing some sort of long game here, especially given the build-up we had last season and some of the more niggling details this season: why did kom choose now to use her bond to lure kory when she’s been on earth for months? why did justin call kory now, just around the time that she started getting kom’s visions? and what about kom’s ability to exactly imitate other people? hmmm.

2.75. the reason i wrote i’d like to say is that i’ve made the mistake of assuming plot complexity where there is none; i was so invested in the jason todd orchestrated his own death theory for instance, when it turns out that oops! ra’s al ghul just happened to leave a little lazarus puddle in gotham, and oh yeah! scarecrow just happens to have a network of henchmen working for him on the outside and a fully functional laboratory and a weapons cache fit for a new supervillain in the basement of the high security psychiatric unit/prison that he’s in! 

(no i’m not bitter, why do you ask)

2.8. iiiii don’t know what to say about the implications of sex slavery being a thing on tamaran, so i’m not going to say anything at all. for now.

3. gotham, six years ago... wasn’t it five years before s2 that jericho died and the titans disbanded? and when was the flashback from 1.06 where dick let zucco die? i think it was after the events of 2.08: jericho? i can’t seem to find any transcripts or reliable information online, so i’m going to have to rewatch 1.06 at some point. 

(i love the old-fashioned batman music in this heist scene)

3.5. “security is a joke... it’s my way of keeping my dad on his toes”. what you’re an ethical thief now, like an ethical hacker? i don’t think that excuse is going to sell, barbara, on the day you do encounter a decent security system and your father is forced to arrest you.

(then again, gotham’s security is piss-poor. did you know that you could just walk into arkham asylum without any official clearance, ply one of its most dangerous inhabitants with contraband, and said inmate could get away with having an entire laboratory and weapons cache--NO I’M NOT GOING TO LET THIS GO)

3.8 so that flashback between dick and barbara was really cute! and also illuminating:

a) dick sounds so light, so... um. look. i have some apologies to tender to mr thwaites, because while i’ve always thought he does a fine job as dick grayson, i’ve never been terribly fond of his cadence as he delivers dialogue. it’s often monotonous, i thought, but then again, he’s usually delivering exposition or dealing with one soul-crushing crisis or the other. so i was pleasantly surprised to hear dick sound so carefree and alive in his conversation with barbara, laughing frequently, his emotions so bare and bubbling to the surface. it’s really a fantastic contrast to the traumatised and world-weary dick grayson that we see now, even more so than the costume department just bunging a backwards-baseball cap on mr thwaites’ head and hoping that will convince us of his relative youth. 

b) and god, when he wakes up from that memory, all alone in his bed, bleeding from bullet holes in his shoulder (bullet holes that are--in a somewhat convoluted way--barbara’s fault)? yikes. it’s great. you have my apologies, mr thwaites!

c) can you imagine dick just... crawling back to wayne manor, trying not to be seen by anybody, shedding his suit and just... collapsing onto his bed without even tending to his wound? the sheer emotional and physical exhaustion of it? 

d) it’s so interesting to see how barbara and dick approach the idea of legacy--a big theme on the show!--in this flashback. barbara is the one bucking the idea that she should follow in her father’s footsteps, while dick seems pretty content with the batman-and-robin setup, and even tries to get barbara to join their team (robin-girl. pfffft). obviously after this several traumatic things happen wherein dick ends up questioning and then resenting his role as robin, his relationship with batman or even returning as a vigilante at all. and barbara... ends up replacing her father as commissioner. it’s tragic, really. 

e) the dynamic between dick and barbara in the flashback reminds me of how it was between dick and donna in 1.08 and even between kory and dick in early s1. it’s like having an older, strong-willed woman by his side means he gives over the steering wheel for a while and lets himself... unspool, a little bit. it’s kinda endearing.

also:

*pinches his cheeks*

3. you know, we talk about dick and Eldest Daughter Syndrome, and that’s definitely valid, but here gar seems to me the embodiment of it, with all the emotional gardening and firefighting that he’s expected to do. he’s kind of the guy expected to keep his shit together and take care of everyone else while they are falling completely to pieces, unable to carve out time to process his own trauma. he’s also picked up dick’s and kory’s tendencies to bottle up their struggles and shun appearing vulnerable, and he’s struggling in the shadow of both dick and kory undergoing acute crises, his best friend (and frequent confidante) on the other side of the world, and seeing hank die, utterly helpless to stop it. 

i’m glad that he got a chance to tell dick even a smidgeon of what he really feels, and i hope this is at least a semblance of a wake up call for dick to actually sit down and work with the people he repeatedly calls family.

3.5. it’s heartening to see that dick immediately makes it his priority to go talk to gar. but don’t blow off kory in the process, man!

4. i’m really loving this dynamic between kom and conner--i get the idea that both of them consider each other as Unknowns, alien two times over. but conner’s only ever known the titans, who embrace being different, and kom’s only ever known... well. 

anyway, kory is Really Stressed, and honestly? #relatable. 

when you’re forced to bring an estranged family member to hang out with your friends...

4.5. i love that the titans are spending so much time in the kitchen. a real family!

5. jonathan crane is a creep and i absolutely cannot stand him.

5.25. how did he get a whole lab setup (in the basement of a hospital...?) with a bunch of whitecoats to work for him? how did he just waltz into the viewing room of an operation theatre when he’s one of the most wanted men in gotham right now? why is jason wandering around maskless when--presumably--as the adopted son of the most famous person in gotham he’d be a tad more recognisable than your average joe?

why do i expect this show to answer anything anymore?

5.5. that’s not necessarily a criticism, mind; i’ve said since season 1 that titans is very comics-like in this aspect, all about the Aesthetic and the splash-page splendour rather than the niggling unimportant details of how or when the characters got to said location. like. the camera gliding over the operation being set-up, lady vic bursting in and doing her murder dance (imagine the luck of the poor intern who chose this day and this surgery to assist) and jason, shocked and slack-jawed, framed by blood.

5.75. it’s a sobering reminder for jason that, though he chose this path in order to gain control over a world that seemed like it was rapidly spinning out of his grip, he’s only succeeded in handing over even more control to a man with an agenda that is very clearly not aligned with his own. he’s in too far to stop now, though.

5.9. i have a lot more thoughts about jason! saving it up for the end of this recap, though.

6. more kitchen time! i better see dick do some cooking soon...

(”our kitchen”! it still delights me! kitchens are So Important)

6.25. so much of dick’s issues have revolved around his relationship with bruce, so it’s completely understandable that in the wake of a huge crisis where bruce literally asks dick to replace him and be a “better” him, dick would default to all the worst things he learned from the man. and i’m glad kory’s having none of it, but come on, guys. the woman’s literally fetched her fratricidal sister out of a hole in the ground with no idea what said sister is going to do next and experiencing a burgeoning sense of guilt far, far beyond her history with the titans, and dick’s too far into his autocolonoscopy that he can’t see that she needs help.

6.5. “he services your urges”--well, as far as we know, kory is the last person he had sex with...

7. “i hope [gar] isn’t angry with me...” SIR! i thought you’d already spoken to him! smh, as the kids say. kory wouldn’t be needing to reassure you if you just took the effort to build two way emotional relationships with the rest of the team. @superohclair​ was taking about dick’s relatively low emotional intelligence? i agree.

7.5. “i got my own problems [...] you and barbara? fix it.” YOU TELL HIM, KORY

8. man i really like this weird, sad tension between dick and barbara--this sense that both of them are approaching the other based on how they remember them and are ultimately disappointed by the truth. barbara thought she could trust dick to... well, be a better batman, but dick has not only failed at that in her eyes, but repeatedly undermined her while exploiting the authority that she gave him. in dick’s eyes, this is nothing like the barbara that he knew, rebellious and ready to do whatever it takes to find something. 

like. this show sometimes really hits me in the chest about the ways it shows kids grow into adults and into caretakers, and the way it’s stop-start, the ways nothing can happen at all for a long time and then it’s Crisis Central all at once and there’s no space to breathe. the weird sort of sadness that comes with nostalgia. 

8.5. oracle name drop! i agree with barbara, any system that can just randomly tap into gotham phonelines is a monster.

8.7. (i don’t know if it’s my imagination, but is dick holding himself... differently in this episode? like that wound is definitely bothering him, and he’s running on fumes)

9. man, that was a really sweet scene between kom and conner. “feeling alien in your own world”... “not quite here nor there”

honestly this team runs on conner and gar’s faith in their value as a family, and it’s a sign of conner’s generous heart that he extends that opportunity to blackfire. this arc of maturation for him, where he’s now able to consciously choose which parts of himself he can use to do the thing he wants to so--save people--has been so fulfilling to recognise. this baby’s grown with the titans! and what he’s learnt is that people can get fucked up, but the titans is a place where they can be fucked up, and grow.

MY MAN CONNER

10. oh man i’m drinking in the gar-dick interaction in this episode like i’m three days into the desert and it’s the only source of water for miles around!

a) gar is absolutely not dealing with dick’s bullshit this episode and I LOVE IT. it’s such a far cry from the man who was idolising dick/robin back in s1 and expecting him to solve all their problems. dick is fallible, dick is fucked up, but he Tries His Best and that’s ok.

b) dick, huffing and puffing through that vent, unable to put any pressure on his left shoulder, trying to have a heart to heart with gar... fuck i love this asshole. 

c) bruce took in a kid who was suffering... “and made him into a weapon”. well. i absolutely agree with dick that it was bruce who put these kids into these horrible situations with him and they came away with a bucketload of trauma to add to the one that they already had. but we know that bruce was really trying with jason, and at the end of s2, dick was coming to acknowledge that bruce had offered him something that wasn’t just darkness. jason’s death and bruce’s reaction to that shattered that fragile progress.

d) “gotham got to me too.” i feel more sympathetic towards dick running off on his own than most, and it’s not just because i’m an unapologetic stan.  we’ve seen before that dick... devolves when overwhelmed, and he lashes out and makes ill thought out decisions and just Does Not Deal. it happened after hearing the news that deathstroke had returned in s2, and it didn’t help that everyone around him was reeling at the news, either. this time, however, he has his salvation in his family, and despite some stupid decisions like running off and kidnapping supervillains without telling his team, he’s been really on the ball this season. thinking clearly and logically, holding it together and working on a plan, thinking two steps ahead of the villains... yes.

e) gar needing to believe that jason isn’t beyond redemption... there’s a lot of blood on his hands, too, from when he was manipulated by cadmus last season. it makes sense why he’d relate to jason’s predicament, and i hope dick picked up on that.

f) my head just added a plaintive ow after dick jumped feet first into the storage room

i need, crave gifs of this scene!

11. *sits on hands* i’m going to talk more about red hood, i promise!

12. more gar and dick! is it my birthday??!!

(actually, according to the tamil calendar, it is my birthday! my “star” birthday)

12.5. excellent. dick using some implausible training that bruce taught him to solve a mystery? passing some of that knowledge onto gar? that proud smile when he sees gar perfectly execute moves that he taught him? MY HEART IS EXPLODING

13. aw, i love flashback!dick and barbara, they’re so cute <3

13.25. why does it not surprise me that the way he proposes a relationship to barbara is by saying “we make sense”? this guy can deduce exactly who was present where and what weapon they were holding from a garbled audio recording but other times he’s utterly clueless, and that’s a consistent character beat right from s1

13.5. so.... that’s why lady vic has it out for... barbara....? i don’t get it. it’s flimsy. but hey! the fun thing about titans is that i don’t have to get it. the payoff has nothing to do with the plot.

14. i can’t believe that barbara fell for that, but at least that wheelchair fight looked awesome, so.

15. oh yeah, i forgot that red hood bullied the mob into helping him and scarecrow... at least that explains the whitecoats and the elaborate set-up.

15.5. honestly i love how this dynamic between kory and kom is developing, though i wish more of the team would pay attention to it. time to call justin, i think!

16. i wonder what happened after that second flashback where barbara got hurt during that heist. did she give up on doing any more (maybe jim caught her)? was it because dick was called away by bruce and then the titans and got caught up in his own issues? maybe barbara froze him out because she wasn’t looking for the relationship that he was looking for? maybe the idea of doing that with someone turning into batman-lite was just... unappealing? scary?

whatever it is, it doesn’t look like dick ever processed the end of that relationship. it’s very intriguing to see where their dynamic goes next.

17. so.... what, did vic deliver some fear toxin to barbara? i... what?

17.5. and i TOLD YOU that they would never explain that doll or why vic attacked those two cops at the beginning! oh, titans. never change. 

18. did jason just randomly have tim’s restaurant burgled? god, i’m feeling a bit nauseous... are they going to kill tim’s father?

18.25. i feel like the rest of the season is going to wrestle with jason’s culpability in the horrible stuff he’s doing and i’m already seeing that prospect divide fans. on one hand, his story is taking a lot of oxygen away from other equally interesting story arcs, and he’s done some truly awful things, like indiscriminate murder, threatening to kill children, blowing up hank, and potentially killing tim’s parents. 

there’s something to be said for the kind of hold that crane has over him, and the so-called ‘anti-fear’ drug that he keeps plying jason with--he’s alone, drugged almost constantly (to the level of dependence), fresh from the trauma of being bludgeoned to death. he hasn’t conquered fear; he’s ruled by it. on the other hand, given that he’s the one character on the show given an obvious and identifiable ‘mental illness’ arc (maaaaybe dick too), one can argue that it’s irresponsible to show this progress into such violence: jason was vulnerable because he was struggling, and that left him vulnerable, but it took only a push before he became a fucking serial killer.

but that could mean we underestimate the degree of that vulnerability, and the mechanics of this universe where he fell into the clutches of the one supervillain perfectly designed to exploit that vulnerability. that helpless spiral into further and further self-destruction is all too real. it’s valuable to know that someone who has sunk that low can still seek help--actual help--and get it. 

18.5. i don’t know. it’s not a question i’m going to resolve at the end of an overlong recap at 1 in the morning. i don’t believe it’s even a question that titans can resolve. but i am interested in where they’re going next with jason.

19. this episode was genuinely great! i’m pumped for the rest of the season!

[wienerbarnes]

Much Ado About Nothing (1/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,726

Warnings: enemies to lovers, talk of wedding and marriage stuff

A/N: enjoy the first part and let me know what u think!

MAIN MASTERLIST | MUCH ADO MASTERLIST

The ride back to New York feels a lot longer than the ride to Croatia, Bucky decides. HYDRA wasn’t kidding around when they said cut one head off and two take its place, whatever. No matter how hard Earth’s Mightiest Heroes try, there’s another facility that pops up at one point or another.

Bucky tries to think positively; they should be off HYDRA duty, if they keep up the consistent schedule of finding a new facility every three or so months, for a bit now.

“What’s the first thing you guys are gonna do when you get back? I’m gonna get some hot chocolate from the little cafeteria in the main building.” Sam hums from the seat directly behind Bucky.

Bucky’s in the passenger while Steve pilots and he gives his own answer at the same time as Steve,

“Shower.”

“Propose to Sharon.”

A small pause for the boys to ensure they heard that correctly.

“Wanna run that by us again, Cap?” Sam pipes up.

“When we land, I’m going to propose to Sharon.” Steve repeats nonchalantly.

“Since when?!” Bucky asks. He knows for a fact that Steve and Sharon adore each other, but Steve has never brought up marriage once in the time he’s dated Sharon, and clearly he hasn’t done so to Sam, either.

“Listen, I know we haven’t been dating long, but I know I love her and I know she loves me, so, what’s the point in waiting?” He explains.

“Is this about what happened earlier, Steve?” Bucky asks, knowing his best friend all too well.

A bomb was in the facility, of course, and Steve and Bucky tried to disarm it while Sam rallied the rest of prisoners out of the building.

Now, while Steve has obtained most of his training through his serum-fueled muscle memory and military experience over the last few decades, he is extremely lucky. Steve has successfully disarmed twenty-nine bombs throughout his Avengers career. Not a single failure. With no bomb training.

So when he cut one of the wires confidently and the timer started ticking faster, it made him nervous. And it made him even more nervous when he clipped a different wire and the time counter automatically set to zero. He froze in shock and was lucky Bucky was able to fling the two of them out a window and away from the direct blast.

“Okay, so, yeah, maybe I got a little scared. But, listen, it’s not a lie that we lead dangerous lives. Why should I hold back on the things I want if I know tomorrow isn’t promised?” Steve defends.

“Steve, you can’t marry a girl because you’re scared of dying!” Bucky exclaims.

“I’m not marrying her for that, Bucky, I love her!”

“I know you love her, but -”

“But?! -”

“Alright, alright, listen,” Sam interrupts their sibling bickering, “If this is what you want, I’m with you 100%, Cap.” Sam reassures.

Steve gives a thankful smile and looks back to Bucky, hoping for the same.

“You know I’m always on board with you, you punk.” Bucky slaps a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks, guys.”

“Ah, big man’s gonna be engaged!” Sam throws his hands on Steve’s shoulders, jostling his body in the tiny pilot’s seat, and Bucky joins in on the teasing.

“I’m gonna tell everyone to meet in the hangar for when you ask her.” Sam says, pulling out his phone.

“You’re not gonna tell the Geek, are you?” Bucky groans.

“Of course, I’m gonna tell her. I don’t know why you don’t like her, man.”

Bucky rolls his eyes at the thought of the little lab rat. Sharon’s best friend. A young girl, born and raised in New York though thoroughly traveled through your work experience. Been to over fifty countries offering your expertise to combat cyberterrorism and have helped locate some of the hardest-to-find and worst people in the world.

You act like you’re all that just because you’re considered one of the youngest geniuses in the country and one of the greatest hackers in the world as well as the Avengers’ best tech expert of all time.

Whatever, big whoop, Bucky could care less.

As the jet lands, hugs and cheers are exchanged as the group of friends reacquaint themselves once again after a long mission. After greeting everyone, Bucky hangs on the outskirts of the group, waiting to see how Steve is going to pop his big question.

“C’mon, punk, don’t lose your courage.” Bucky talks to himself.

“I don’t know if you noticed, Bucky, but no one’s listening to you. You can stop talking.” Your voice pipes up next to him.

“Oh, hey, Little Miss Geeky, don’t you have some codes to hack, or something?” He bites at you.

“I told you not to call me that!”

“I told you not to call me that,” Bucky mocks you in a higher pitched voice.

“Geez, how does anyone stand you around here? I don’t get how all the female trainees are infatuated with you.”

“They definitely kiss my ass because I train them and I have the final say on whether or not they move on to second-class training, but even if I didn’t,” Bucky turns to face you now, “They’d still love me because every woman here loves me except for you, it seems.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway, I’m not interested in getting involved with anyone or anything right now, I don’t even know I’m capable of that, anymore.” Bucky finishes.

“Women everywhere are lucky, then. You’d make a horrible boyfriend. I’m glad I have no need for romance, either.”

“Hopefully you keep it that way, any guy that ends up with your catty ass will end up with his face scratched up.”

“Well, if his face looks anything like yours, a good scratching would only make it look better.”

“Alright, alright, enough, you two. Can’t even be civil around each other for five minutes.” Sam interrupts, slinging each of his arms around both you and Bucky’s shoulders, shoving himself in between the two of you.

“She started it.”

“No, he -”

“Stop! He’s about to do it.” Sam shushes you.

“He’s about to do what -”

“Guys, guys, I want everyone’s attention.” Steve’s voice calls out, and everyone quiets down immediately.

Steve turns to Sharon, “Sharon, you are the most beautiful, the strongest, the kindest, and most amazing woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He begins.

“I’ve known for a while now, and I know you have, too, that I love you with every fiber of my being. You make me a better Captain, and a better man every day I’m with you. I truly and deeply believe that you’re my soulmate and I won’t ever find another girl like you in my life. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. So, I don’t want to waste anymore time,” Steve lowers down onto one knee and a few gasps echo from the group.

Bucky sees you slap a hand over your mouth in shock and Sam sniffles beside him. A small smile appears on Bucky’s face, too.

“Sharon, will you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?”

“Yes, yes, yes! Steve, yes I’ll marry you!” Sharon cries out, jumping into Steve’s arms as he stands again, and the group claps and cheers for them.

They share sweet kiss after sweet kiss, relishing in the new step in their relationship.

Sharon’s voice catches everyone in their celebration, though, “Let’s get married now!”

Collective what’s come from the group of friends that surround them, “Like you said, babe, let’s not waste anymore time!”

“Sharon, if you think you’re not getting the most gorgeous and lovely wedding you deserve, you’re mistaken.” You tell her.

“For once, I agree with Techie, Shar. I mean you don’t have a dress, Steve doesn’t have a tux; hell, the two of you don’t even have rings!” Bucky says.

“I can make it happen in a week.” Tony’s voice booms from the group. Everyone looks to him.

“I can get you guys rings, I can get Sharon a dress, and Steve a suit, I can set up the smaller ballroom for a pre-wedding party for everyone tonight and get the bigger ballroom ready for a wedding by next Friday.” Tony offers.

“Consider it a wedding gift.” He smiles.

Sharon and Steve look to each other before looking back at Tony, “Next Friday it is, then.”

The group goes back to congratulating the newly engaged couple as well as conversing about the future wedding.

...

“Hey, did you guys hear about the rumored wedding?”

Bruce Banner pipes up in the empty lab after returning from downstairs. Well, not empty, of course, but empty of you, the intern’s tech leader in their internship.

“What idiot would want to get married, nowadays?” John pipes up.

The only reason he’s here is because his step-brother, Sam “The Falcon” Wilson insisted on getting him this internship gig. Everyone was always saying how he wasn’t going to live up to his big brother’s legacy, and he hated the fact that that was only ingrained into his existence further by the fact that Sam got him this position.

“Your brother’s best buddy.” Clint Barton enters and answers. Always roaming around the building, he is.

“What, that pretty boy, Steve?”

“That’s the one.” The archer confirms and plops himself down in a spinning chair.

“Huh. And I guess he’s marrying that pretty girlfriend of his? When did this happen?”

“That he is. It happened just downstairs now that they’ve returned from that mission. There’s a party tonight to celebrate.” Banner informs him, hoping the sound of a party will liven the kid’s spirits a bit.

Banner can see the kid’s frustration in living in his brother’s shadow - or feeling like so - and hopes that allowing him the opportunity to make some good memories will make his time here feel a little less miserable. Despite the connection to his brother, John’s incredibly smart for a nineteen-year-old, a teenager, and deserves to have a little play among all his work.

“Hmmm. I think I’ll go. Who doesn't love a good party, right?” John says, satisfying both Avengers in the lab with him.

Meanwhile, John’s fantasizing, he’s going to get into trouble around here.

…

Sharon, Tony, and you sit around a small table in the cafeteria while Sam waits for his hot chocolate across the room.

“If only I could find a guy in between Steve and Bucky. Steve’s too vanilla and Bucky’s too… Bucky.” You say.

“Keep thinking like that and you won’t find anyone.” Tony tells you.

“Well, good. I pray everyday that God doesn’t send me a husband. Ugh, and especially not a guy like Steve or Bucky; I can’t stand those beards.”

“Maybe you’ll find a husband that shaves.” Sharon offers.

“I know I’m not hearing my darling Geeky and husband as topics in the same conversation.” Sam finally joins with his cup of hot chocolate.

“You’re right, you’re not. I’ll start looking for a husband when they make men out of something other than trash. Speaking of which, I know Steve is America’s Golden Boy, or whatever, but you make sure he treats you right.” You say.

“I second that.” Sam agrees.

“I third it.” Tony follows.

Sharon laughs, “Guys, guys, I appreciate it, but I don’t need you guys to have that talk with me, Steve is amazing, and you all know it.”

“Yeah, yeah, anyway, I’m going to go shower for the party tonight, I’ve been holed up in the lab all morning.” You stand and go to exit the cafeteria.

Bucky’s way ahead of you in that aspect, following through with what he said on the jet and retreating up to his room to shower as soon as the congratulations were given to the happy couple.

Showering is a special ritual Bucky follows after a rough mission. Of course, everyone showers after a mission, but Bucky makes his post-mission showers extra special.

He double shampoos both his hair and his beard, lathering them up with a smooth conditioner after, while he washes all the dirt and gunk from his body with a lavender and grapeseed oil body soap.

He applies a face mask while he cleans up any wounds he might’ve sustained on the mission, as well as polishing and scrubbing his metal arm clean. Once he’s finished, he painfully reminds himself that he can’t just sleep for the next sixteen hours. He has to get ready to go to a party.

He sighs to himself, “Let’s get this over with.”

…

Everyone in the ballroom is dressed to the nines for the last-minute engagement party. There’s music, dancing, drinks, and just about everyone that works in the tower is in that room.

The group of friends all find each other eventually, and of course all of the attention is on the future bride and groom. Talk of colors and themes and cakes all overwhelm the couple - the question of whether or not Sharon will wear a garter makes Steve blush.

Quite honestly, they’re on the verge of just eloping downtown and saying to hell with all the parties and festivities.

“Okay, okay, can we talk about something else? I don’t want all this wedding stuff to be the only thing I hear about for the next seven days.” Sharon finally interrupts.

“Okay, what do you want to talk about, Miss Bride-to-be?” You ask.

“Well, how about when you’re going to find yourself a husband?” Sharon teases her friend, knowing how much she despises talking about her own love life, or lack thereof.

“Oh no, absolutely not, not this again. I’m going to get a drink.” You wave her off, stepping away from the group and making your way back towards the open bar.

“I hope I didn’t arrive just as we were talking about relationship stuff.” Bucky says as he arrives and finally finds his friends.

“I’m afraid you did.” Natasha confirms beside Sharon.

“In that case, I’m gonna follow Geeky’s lead and get a drink; I’ll certainly need one for that conversation.” Bucky excuses himself, the shadow of his dark blue suit follows the flow of your navy gown worn tonight; you surely matched by complete accident.

“Imagine if they were married.” Sharon thinks aloud to Natasha.

“Who? Barnes and Geek-a-Chic? Please, they’d kill each other within a week of being married.” Natasha argues.

“I hope y'all aren’t talking about our Barnes and Techie, because there’s no way in hell they’d be caught dead with each other like that.” Sam butts in, Steve by his side.

“C’mon guys, think about it. It’s like opposites attract and all that. Plus, I think they are the only people that are a match for their own wits.” Sharon explains.

“I don’t know, babe. They’re constantly at each other’s necks; I don’t even think they’ve had a normal conversation with each other without insults or bickering.” Steve says.

“I suggest we do the impossible.” Tony interrupts, clearly having had a few too many drinks.

“While we wait for the wedding to come, we are going to set those two up together.” He hiccups.

“Tony, you’re crazy.”

“That’ll never work.”

“I’m with it!” Sam shouts, excited to play along and work with Tony on his shenanigans.

“Atta boy, Sammy! C’mon, Sharon? Nat? Steve? Where’s Clint, I know he’ll be on board with this.” Tony whips his head around in all directions looking for the archer.

“C’mon, guys, it’ll be fun! The worst that can happen is that we fail.” Sam tries to convince.

“I think the worst that can happen is that we succeed! Imagine Barnes and her together!” Natasha exclaims.

“I just want her to be happy. She deserves a good boyfriend and husband.” Sharon says sweetly, Sam words slowly convincing her.

“I agree.” Steve chimes in, wanting the best for his own best friend as well.

The five of them turn towards the bar to see Bucky and their favorite tech nerd pushing and shoving at each other’s shoulders, clearly fighting about something once again.

“Alright, I’m on board. Let’s do it.” Natasha finally agrees.

John watches the happy friend group from a distance. He sees his brother smiling and laughing with his friends; his famous, talented, skilled friends, his friends who are soon going to be married and live happily ever after.

Not if he can help it, anyway.

[if-fortunate]

hi! i absolutely ADORE your fivan fics so much! Like if i can pick my canon, im picking your fic and your whole universe i reread all the time. i was wondering if you had any hcs about their relationship during the war or life after the war (where they finally get to be happy) since we weren’t able to see them together as much in that way?

thank you in advance ✨✨✨

Hello! Thank you so much, this makes me squeal with glee and clap my hands together, I am *so* glad you like my headcanon universe. Yes, I definitely do, so, loosely:

After the war, Ivan becomes Ravka's spymaster - it's difficult for him to be in the field as much, and whilst his disability absolutely doesn't stop him from fighting he's also just so tired of it? So this way he goes into the field where necessary, but really acts as the central node of intelligence and supports King Nikolai and his council.

Fedyor takes over the practical running of the Little Palace - obviously David, Genya, and Zoya are in charge, but they need someone to make sure that the place functions when they're off doing other things. The biggest change that Fedyor makes is that the school for the kids becomes an actual school, not a military training academy. There is no expectation of joining the military when you graduate. There is a track for those who want to, but the school is a lot more wide ranging than when he and Ivan went through it - they want Grisha to have livelihoods other than those which make people fear them.

They also set up regional schools for those people who don't want their children to go all the way to Os Alta, because why should Grisha children be taken from their families if they don't want to be?

The children adore Ivan, especially because he always takes them very seriously, and is firm but fair. He teaches class at the end of the week. After a few weeks of this, Fedyor sneakily organised the kitchen staff to bring a picnic down to the lake for after it - and it's quickly become a Little Palace tradition.

Fedyor insists that the memorial in the courtyard of the Little Palace is for Grisha who fought on both sides. Sometimes he'll get caught in front of it, reading the names to himself. By the time he's an old man, he's got every single name memorised.

When the nightmares get very bad, they always go down to the kitchens and make cocoa and sit in the big arched window looking out onto the courtyard. Sometimes the others join them - Zoya, Genya, and David. Once or twice, even Nikolai appears (which gave everyone a heart attack the first time he did it, and which he has been unbearably smug about ever since).

Ivan wasn't expecting to be asked to visit Keramzin with the others, but he's secretly pleased when Zoya puts her foot down and drags him along the first time. He hangs back and doesn't really say much, but later, he and Mal end up drinking outside on the terrace, looking out at the silent countryside, keeping each other company, and swapping war stories - because sometimes, the only way to deal with a past as jagged as theirs is to talk about it.

After the war, Fedyor goes looking for Ivan's family - not that it matters, now, but he knows Ivan wants to know what has happened to them even if he'll never say anything. Ivan's parents have died, years ago, but Ivan's youngest sister is still there - and she and her wife have three sons, the youngest of whom is Grisha. He comes to the Little Palace to train, and ends up becoming a famous Materialki sculptor.

Eventually, when they are too old to really work any more they move to a small cottage in the grounds of the Little Palace - they could go anywhere really, Ivan teases Fedyor about his old desire for a bakery, but the Little Palace is in their bones now and they know they'll never settle anywhere else. They watch Ravka at peace. They become the de facto grandfathers of the Little Palace - always there to talk to those who've come after them, to feed them cake, to hold their babies, to offer advice.

Fedyor dies three years before Ivan does, and Ivan does his best to keep Fedyor's legacy alive. Sometimes, people will catch him sitting on the steps to his cottage and talking to himself - the younger ones ask who he's talking to, but he never answers.

They are buried together by the lake, under the same headstone. No-one knows who starts the tradition of new graduates of the Little Palace going to say goodbye to them, but it picks up in the years after Ivan dies and carries on, steady. After a century or so, the names wear away - and as times change, the traditions change too - it's less of a goodbye and more of a lucky rock that new students and leaving students touch on either end of their time in the Little Palace. Only those who go looking for Ivan and Fedyor's stories find them, as they are the kind of people that history leaves behind.

It doesn't matter; neither of them need to be remembered. Because in the end they found peace, and that is the most important thing of all.

Wow, ok, this turned into a bit of a story on its own, Anon, but I hope this answers your question! Please feel free to add your own, I always love to hear other people's ideas.

[kessielrg]

[Kingdom Hearts] Misplaced

Summary: In which Xehanort finds the source of his misplaced memories… and expunges them. 

Rating: K+

Word Count: 1,240

If you liked this story, please reblog!

---

To be fair, he didn’t exactly expect to be alive right now. This extraction could have damaged the both of them in ways unforeseen. He was awake now, no worse for wear at the moment, but she was still in a deep sleep. Xehanort had to force himself not to wake her up. Hearts were such a strange thing- so easily manipulated and pulled in every direction. Sleep was like a natural recovery, it seemed. So he waited.

Their air around them was thick with heat and red dust. This area was nothing more than a graveyard; no one would find them here. He had to do it here too, in the badlands of some forgotten realm. It was where he had met an enigmatic man who told of the Keyblade War and its legacy. That man had been one of the first steps toward Xehanort’s searching. This girl, who still laid unconscious, was the other.

When she finally started to stir, Xehanort’s heart jumped into his throat. He was quick to get to her side. As she hazily came to, he helped her to her feet. Not a word was said between them as he helped. However, Xehanort was not blind to how her body tensed while her senses returned- almost as if she could sense a great danger near them. It found it all dreadfully interesting.

“How do you feel?” the man asked as he let go of her body, certain that she had enough balance to stand on her own now.

The girl hesitated. She blinked once, then twice, before looking at Xehanort proper. He had expected some amount of shock, but he hadn’t really foreseen her nearly scrambling away from him. The girl even made an action as if she tried to summon her Keyblade, but nothing came of it. Xehanort simply let her do whatever she needed; not for once considering it was him causing this reaction. He simply waited for that moment of recognition- their hearts were connected for so long, after all. It would be an anomaly if there wasn’t.

Sure enough, just as he expected, he could see her eyes go from apprehensive to something a bit softer as she studied him. It happened a lot slower than what he would have liked.

“My name is Xehanort, friend.” he said to her, thinking it was time for proper introductions. “Please relax a bit more- I also wish to get to know you better.”

Again, the girl simply blinked at him. Her emerald green eyes looking over him, and a hand absently brushed against her strawberry pink hair in some effort to calm herself. She looked… confused, more than anything. Such an innocence made it hard to believe that this was the source for all his misplaced memories.

“So you’re the one.” Xehanort faintly noted, looking the girl over. “You’re not... quite what I’ve imagined.”

An embarrassed blush crossed the girl’s face. It seemed so faint against her tanned skin. This was a survivor of the Keyblade War, in line with the same generation Eraqus’s grandfather came from? He was staring at a wallflower. Then again, all he had learned so far was that appearances couldn’t be trusted. He could be wrong about her.

He hoped he was wrong about her.

“I have many questions for you.” Xehanort then said to her. “The first of which being the most obvious; what is your name?”

The wielder fidgeted slightly. “Anora.” she finally said in a soft, earthy voice.

“Anora.” Xehanort repeated, as if he were testing the word on his tongue. “You were a wielder from the Age of Fairytales. One that decided to meld into a new heart than go into sleep.”

There was a small nod- almost bashful. Or maybe timid.

“Why?”

“To… protect my friends,” she slowly admitted.

“How very noble of you.”

There was a nod, and then silence. Xehanort believed it to be because of pain. He knew of the sacrifice she had to take in order to protect those friends.

“What are we going to do now?” she questioned. “Now that our hearts are no longer together...”

“Haven’t thought that far yet.” Xehanort snorted. “Kinda working on my contingency plans, you see.”

This didn’t assure Anora in the slightest. He couldn’t help but let out another chortle at her expression. How could one so fearless in the face of uncertainty still shy away from it? Quite frankly, it was absurd.

“Your heart is going to be more susceptible to darkness with part of it missing now,” Anora pointed out, her face fully illustrating her concern, “Aren’t you worried?”

“How does it matter?” Xehanort countered. “You’re free now, as am I of your influence. We can be individuals for the first time.”

“But with a place in your heart for darkness to take over…?!”

“I’ll counter it. A strong heart can reject darkness by sheer force of will. My heart will endure without yours.”

Anora physically recoiled. “Xehanort… I don’t think...”

The glare Xehanort started to give Anora made her shiver. If she didn’t know any better, darkness had already taken a hold of his heart. But Xehanort did not want to be proved wrong. He stepped forward, placing his hands on Anora’s shoulders. He held a rather strong grip on her- so strong, in fact, that she instinctively tried to shake out of it.

“Anora,” he said to her in a dark voice, “I have known you my entire life. A part of me will miss when your heart called to mine. Allowing me to see visions of your past that I will surely make a part of my future.”

Anora’s eyes only widened in fear. Xehanort grimaced. The more he learned of this wielder -this once strong hearted and fearless Keyblade wielder- the less satisfied he was of her. Perhaps it was better for a sleeping heart to stay at rest…

As if she could sense his shifting thoughts, she quietly asked him, “What are you going to do?”

To answer, Xehanort called his Keyblade. Anora immediately looked at it and paled.

“I told you I was working on my contingency plans.” the man callously told her. “But this? This is something I must do before anything else.”

“Xehanort, wait-!”

He never gave her the time to finish her thought. Tears fell down Anora’s face as sounds of distressed whimpering came from her lips. Anora stared at the Keyblade plunged into her chest. Xehanort offered no expression as he held it there. It would only take a movement to remove her heart from her body.

“You did so much to ensure your friends’ safety. But now they are gone.” Xehanort gave the Keyblade a little tilt. Anora whinched. “It would be cruel to keep you here when their hearts already belong to Kingdom Hearts.”

The last Xehanort ever knew of the heart that had been melded with his was that the face it belonged to was stained with tears as he extracted his Keyblade. Her weak heart floated into the sky, and hopefully to Kingdom Hearts. The body submitted not long after. It faded from the mortal plane leaving Xehanort alone. He figured, for a moment, that this would not be a day to be proud of later. He stared up at the sky- the only sounds around him now was the wind.

“I will never forget you, Anora.” Xehanort prayed, holding his Keyblade tighter. “Thank you.”

[pomegranates-and-blood]

νοσταλγία (Chapter 25)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Word Count: 3.4k (I’m sorry, these two really like arguing)

Warnings: The usual

A/N: Soo, yeah, here we are. I hope you like this one! Thank you for sticking around, and for reading! Love you all!

The previous chapter was also uploaded today and it is right here

Btw, insider’s tip: keep in mind her words from last chapter about what love is 😉

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius​ @heavenly1927​ @toe-vind-ek-jou​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @pieces-by-me​ @angelofthorr​​ @samsationalwilson​  @peachyboneless​ @1950schick​ @punkrocknpearls​ @ietss​ @psych0crybaby​

Ivar startles you one night, sitting in the dim light of your shared room and starting to talk as soon as you walk through the door.

“What would you have done? If someone had come and promised they could take…take something from you, what would you have done to stop them?”

“You didn’t have to stop them, Ivar,” You bite out with no little anger in your tone. You take a deep breath before speaking again, in what you hope sounds like certainty. “Unless I agree, no one will take me from here. And I won’t agree, you should know that.”

“Why should I know that, hm? Why do you act like it should me so clear to me that y-…?”

“I promised,” You interrupt softly, ignoring every bit of who you are and walking towards him. “I married you, Ivar.”

“That doesn’t…” He stops himself, a deep breath of anger and frustration and so much more, and then starts again, “It doesn’t mean anything, though, does it?”

“If that doesn’t, then what would?”

He holds your gaze, but eventually shakes his head.

“That’s enough. Go to sleep.”

“No,” You refuse, raising your chin, “Answer me.”

“I said that’s enough!” He snaps back, eyes wide and furious and set on you.

You only curl your lip in anger, and stomp your way to change out of the dress and into your nightclothes. As you wrap the robe over the nightdress, you can sense his eyes on you, you can feel the chaos lurching under the surface of pretend control.

It usually is that way with him. Chaos and fury and fire perilously kept at bay by gritted teeth and cruelty, wildfire waiting but for one crack in the wall to spill and burn it all.

Burn him, too.

You may still flinch when a fire is breathed too much life, you may still have dreams of charred flesh and screams, but the Gods made you a woman that would never accept fearing any man, no matter the kind of fire he wields.

And because you could never keep your mouth shut and the Gods know you won’t start now, you state,

“You hurt me. You wanted to remind me you could, so you did,” You point out, for once not caring how your voice wavers. “And you get the right to be angry?”

“Be angry, I’m not stopping you!” Ivar yells, turning to you with fury burning in his pale eyes, “Be angry, be cruel! Fight me, I don’t care, just…stop this.”

“Stop what? I haven’t done anything.” You insist, frowning.

“Yes, yes you have,” He lifts an accusatory hand to point towards you, before that same hand runs over his hair, settling at the back of his neck. “You are…” His breath leaves parted lips, “You are soft, and good, and it’s driving me mad.”

“How is that my fault?”

“Because you…” His words fail him and it is with an angry snarl that he stands up, limping towards a table and grabbing a horn of mead, drinking before deciding to turn accusing eyes to you. “You said no.”

“To the merchant?” You ask, a furrow of your brows.

“You had a chance to leave, to escape, and you refused it.

You only watch with wide eyes as his gaze searches the nothingness in front of him. A blinded man trying to make sense of the world, frantic and uncertain.

Ivar’s voice is low but unwavering when he continues, certain and still holding that angry edge, “I’m not an idiot, I know this isn’t where you want to be. I see you still shiver when the night falls, you aren’t used to the cold, you were made for warm and sunny places; I notice you still hesitate with many things about our language, our ways; I…I know you don’t feel at home, I know I took you from the people you loved, from where you belonged.

A part of you, a part of you that you sometimes fear is too alike him, wants to bite back he has no right to say where you do or don’t belong, wants to remind him your mother made you strong and the years made you resilient, wants to let him know no cold and no realm of death can make you break.

But he isn’t saying those words to insult you, or attack you, you realize. In the reminder that you are soft and warm and gentle there isn’t the accusation of a fault in you, but rather…rather a fault in him, in what he did.

You realize the edge of regret in his tone, and a part of you curses Fate for making it so that the one time he admits to regretting something he did, is when he shouldn’t.

Because yes, you aren’t used to Kattegat’s cold, even more so now that winter approaches, but it is easy to forget the cold, when you sip sweet drinks and are surrounded with people of loud laughs; it is easy to feel warm when you have Ivar with you.

And yes, you still have much to learn when it comes to these people and their customs, their traditions and their ways; but you revel in the tales and lessons the women at the apothecary share with you as you work, their voices warm and their laughs light; in the moments you can spend with Ivar having him teach you the way of his people, his eyes bright and voice enthralling, with each tale he tells drawing you further in.

This isn’t the place you were born in, this isn’t the place you imagined your life in, but here you have people you trust, people that love you not because of who your legacy says you ought to be, but for who you are; and the Greeks aren’t with you and your heart mourns for them still, but the people of Kattegat are your people as much as they are. This is your home, too.

But you don’t say anything, you only look at Ivar with wide eyes as he moves to the bed, sitting on it, leaning back on the backrest.

“And after all I did to you, after…everything, you are still soft and…and light, and good and I…”

“You are driving yourself mad?” You supply tentatively, a hint of mirth in your voice.

Ivar chuckles, but it is humorless and it sounds like a dying breath.

“You said no,” He repeats, and it sounds like an accusation at you as much as it sounds like a reassurance for himself. “And you look happy here and I…I wonder if you are fooling me or I’m fooling myself into believing…” He stops himself with a twitch of anger in his nose, the clear tell he feels he’s given too much away. But you remain silent, you refuse to ask him to continue but also to give him ground to retreat. Eventually, he sighs, “Believing you would choose to stay, when this is over. Because you are-…you said no, and…Gods, woman, you know you should have said yes to him. A smart woman would have said yes.”

For a moment as long as the blink of your eyes he is just a Viking and you are just a Priestess, in some old hut in a city you will never return to, being the strangers you will never be again.

His words from that first day echo in your head like an old song, “A smart woman would know better than to deny me.”

And your reply is still the same, “I never claimed to be smart.”

He doesn’t reply, fingers making quick work at the iron braces around his legs, with practiced ease. Before long, he takes both of them off -you’ve noticed he takes the left one first, the armored and heavier one- and sets them in their low table by his side of the bed.

He is maneuvering his legs into a comfortable position -though you notice he doesn’t get under the furs yet- when he asks,

“Why? Why did you say no? Why didn’t you leave?”

The answers come easy to you. Your vow to kill Stithulf isn’t fulfilled, he still lives and so does your desire for revenge. You knew those men would fail at helping you escape, four armed merchants against Ivar the Boneless and his army.

You could answer with any of those reasons, and it would be true. But it wouldn’t be the truth.

“I promised,” You reply easily, holding his gaze. After a moment, your heart trembles its beat inside your chest and your breath stutters past parted lips, and you approach him, sitting on the bed. Your heart has always been foolish, and so it robs you of your choice, making the words leave your lips before you can try to stop them, “I am…I am living on borrowed time as much as you are, this feels…it feels like a strange limbo, a state between being dead and alive.

You remember the Abbasid traveler of weathered skin and wise eyes, Aamir, the man you met on the Roads so long ago. You remember the night he looked right through you, making you think that for a man so certain there was only one God he spoke with the wisdom of those blessed by Apollo.

His words when he spoke of those worlds in between, even after so many years, still echo in your head, a lesson you haven’t forgotten, They are filled with opportunity, life or death, past or future, nostalgia or hope.

You lick your lips before continuing, “I don’t know what my choice would be, I don’t…I don’t want to. I know what I should choose, but I don’t…I can’t make that choice, not yet,” Your words taste like pleas, to Fate, to the Gods, to anyone who might hear, that this borrowed time may last a lifetime. But you can’t admit that, that would mean betrayal of everything you ought to be. “Pretending to know what my choice will be is no different than keeping me from choosing. I only ask you let go of that certainty that I will leave.

And the part of you that is angry and raw and hurt refuses to leave you vulnerable to his answer, refuses to give him ground to stand on, refuses to have him believe this is a war he can win.

So, you continue, spiteful and angry, “But you can’t, can you? Because it would imply trusting me, and you can’t trust me.

You nod to yourself, and at the anger that takes over his expression, the contained vitriol at the realization you are right; you only grow more bitter.

“You know, for a man as cunning as you are, for someone so used to observing people, for how perceptive you are to all that makes me…me; you refuse to see what’s right beside you. You refuse to acknowledge that ever since I stepped down from that boat I have been at your side.

Freydis’ promises she would one day help you escape, the countless times you looked at the horizon of the kingdom you were forced to call your own and knew escaping would be easy, the fights with the blonde you call a friend over the fact that if you just were willing to play you’d have all you ever wanted.

“I have had many chances to betray you, to leave you, before and after we were married. This man wasn’t the first to offer me a life without you in it, and he won’t be the last. Each time, I’ve said no. And for all that will come, I will say no.

You gesture with your hands in a sign of helplessness, of defeat.

“And yet you refuse to trust me,” It is helpless and hopeless, the smile you are able to offer, “You trust me with your life, I know this, you wouldn’t sleep each night by my side knowing I could slit your throat while you’re vulnerable if you didn’t trust your life to me. But you don’t trust me with-…”

Your heart.

You stop yourself, and close your eyes with a sigh. Shaking your head at yourself, at how foolish you are, at how soft and lovesick you remain, you stand up from the bed, walking to your side of it and sitting down with your back turned to Ivar.

You start attempting to untie the knot in the robe you wear over the nightclothes, ready to sleep off these nightmarish weeks, but the sound of Ivar rusting behind you, moving closer to youn on the bed, so close you can feel the warmth of his body at your back, stops you.

Hesitant fingers trace your back, grab an uncharacteristically delicate hold of the ends of your loose hair.

“One braid?” Ivar asks, voice low, hoarse.

You nod, ignoring the part of you that demands you let go of this pathetic softness, that presses you to seal off weak spots, that begs you to hold on to the anger.

You feel him start to make slow work of the one braid to go down your back, and you sigh shakily.

“I’m sorry,” He says, voice so quiet you think you’ve imagined it. A part of you begs you to turn around, but you remain still, waiting for him to continue, “I wasn’t thinking and I…I regret it.”

You feel the stupid urge to cry taking over you, but you grit your teeth and focus on breathing. Giving away weakness is not something you’ll allow yourself now.

Even if your voice is hoarse you for once don’t attempt to hide it, “I care not for regret if it isn’t accompanied by the promise to never do something like that again.”

You know you are pushing your luck, you know somewhere in the world Sieghild is getting a headache at your recklessness, you know a smart woman would back down and accept it as a victory.

But you never claimed to be smart.

Ivar takes a deep breath, and his hands still, their work on your hair paused for a moment.

It feels like asking him to promise you freedom when Stithulf dies all over again. A baited breath, a moment where you fear he cannot guarantee the one thing you ask for.

“You have my word.”

And just like then, to your peace and his torment, he offers a promise.

And just like then, for better or worse, you believe him.

You return to silence, but realize your part of the bargain that comes with this arrangement you two have had for weeks regarding your hair being braided isn’t fulfilled.

“Why can’t you trust me, Ivar?” Is the truth you ask in exchange for the braid.

“I do,” He replies certainly, taking you by surprise, “You insist I don’t, but I do trust you. More than anyone.”

“Yet you think I’ll betray you, you…you think I’d choose anything and anyone over you.”

The only answer you get is the crackling of the fire, the rusting of clothing as Ivar’s arms move as he works on the braid. And so you are lulled into safety, into warmth, by the familiar quiet of your room and the -even now- comforting presence of Ivar at your side.

Without prompting, his voice low, he offers, “I…I can’t stand the thought of them having…having more of you than I do.”

“They don’t.” You reply easily, but still quietly, as if not to break the tentative truce that has settled in the air.

Ivar only huffs a breath that tells you he very much doubts it.

A truth of your own, a truth of how no one has ever had as much of you -of your mind, of your heart, of your soul- as he does, is at the tip of your tongue, but pride keeps those words at bay.

What you offer is the closest you can get to the truth without making it the raw and terrifying reality that leaves you vulnerable.

“With you I…I am the most at peace with myself I have been ever since I was no one, just a healer in the Silk Roads,” Your shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath, “I am myself when I am with you, in a way I never could with any other. Never doubt that.

You turn your head towards him when you feel him let go of your hair, and keeping your eyes on his, for once not hiding anything, you whisper,

“Also never doubt that if I felt for you the same way I do for any of the people you so envy, for what you did to those men, to me, I would have killed or left you.”

____

You hold back a sigh and turn around on the bed, careful not to let too much frigid air pierce the warmth around you.

Before you can ponder too long on what may have woken you, you are reminded of one of the first observations you made about the King of Kattegat: he talks in his sleep.

Ivar lays on his back next to you, one of his arms folded over his head and face now turned towards you.

As you let your eyes trace his features as he sleeps, free of the almost permanent tension that coils around his whole body and expression during the day, the cruel smiles and nose curled in anger absent, you have to close your hand into a fist to resist foolish temptations of reaching up and tracing his face with your fingers.

You did horrible things, once. You did cruel things, played twisted games, and said it was necessary.

You looked into a man’s eyes, promised him forever, swore to love him, and then killed him while his heart still beat by making him realize it had all been a lie, a ruse, a game.

And he forgave you. Narses looked at you and all the awful things you did, and chose to forgive you.

You called him weak, you called him a fool.

But now you look at Ivar, you face every horrible thing he has done, to you and to others; you remember every cruel word and every time he put binds on you; and you realize that you can still find it in you to forgive him.

Maybe you are weak, maybe you are a fool. But it doesn’t scare you as much as it should, the realization of the kind of hold the Viking has on your heart.

It doesn’t scare you, you realize, because what his mind tells him to believe and what it is less frightening for you to have him believe are one and the same: that you are counting the days until your vow is fulfilled and you can make the choice you weren’t able to before.

You know he won’t think your heart is foolish enough to have you make the choice to stay; because a smart a man as he might be, he is also uncertain, vulnerable, and, when it comes to matters like this, when it comes to you, surprisingly defenseless.

This particular secret can remain only yours for a while longer, you think as you let yourself fall back asleep.

Dreams of bloodied lips smiling behind a red veil prove no secret is only yours.

Before you can take your leave the next morning, Ivar quickly grabs at your hand and stops you. Turning around with hundreds of questions at the tip of your tongue, you find those turning into thousands as you meet Ivar’s eyes.

He looks at you with what someone that didn’t know him would think is pain, is fear.

He clenches his jaw, takes a slow breath through his nose before he speaks.

“Have you forgiven me?” His voice is quiet, so quiet.

You search his eyes, and a sad smile curves faintly at your lips. Though a part of you wants to for once allow you to only be soft and gentle, like Ivar said last night, you were never only one thing.

And because you are iron and arrogance and pride as much as you are any other thing, you whisper, repeating back to him his words on your wedding night,

“You’ve chained me, but don’t forget I’ve chained you too.”

I can hurt you, just as you can hurt me.

____

Soooooo, whaddya think?

It was supposed to be a bit longer by adding another scene regarding Stithulf, but I decided to put all that in the next chapter, so this one (and the one before) can focus on the consequences of that one big fuckup and what that means for both of them. This is just a lot of words to say chapter 26 is a 5k beast but ok

Thank you for reading lovelies! Love ya!!!

[twh-news]

Despite nearly 600 voice roles in her prolific voiceover career, Loki star Tara Strong still had to audition for her fan-favorite character Miss Minutes. Strong was initially tasked with bringing the Time Variance Authority’s animated mascot to life in its Jurassic Park-inspired orientation video, which brought Loki up to speed on his current predicament. But in episode two, Miss Minutes even took the form of a hologram that briefly interacted with Loki. So despite her vast resume, Strong was more than happy to audition for such an enigmatic character.

“It’s actually quite surprising for many people to learn that most voice actors — even ones who’ve been in the business for 30 or 40 years — often audition for parts they’ve already had,” Strong tells The Hollywood Reporter. “You have to constantly keep proving yourself in auditioning for new studio people and new showrunners even though they may have hours and hours of tape on you for a character you’ve already done. So I’m happy to audition, and thankfully, it worked out.”

While she can’t say much about Miss Minutes’ future, Strong can confirm that we haven’t seen the last of her.

“I can cryptically tease that you’ll see her again,” Strong shares. “There’s much more to be revealed, and it’s fun to watch that unfold. The beautiful thing about this character is you don’t really know who she is, where she’s from, what her origin story is, how sentient she is, if she has a horse in this race at all, and what her intentions are, if any. Like any good, exciting adventure, TV or film, you are left wondering that all the time. So she’s an intriguing character, and that will continue.”

When Loki director Kate Herron revealed to THR that Miss Minutes’ introduction video was inspired by Jurassic Park‘s Mr. DNA cartoon, most viewers assumed that Strong’s Southern accent was paying homage to the Southern accent of Mr. DNA, but that wasn’t the case.

“I didn’t even know that until I saw Kate Herron talking about it in an interview,” Strong reveals. “I didn’t even make that connection initially when I first started seeing some of the footage. But it is a fun comparison because they both have this juxtaposition of very high-end, modern technology with very basic, classic ’60 and ’70s animation.”

In a recent conversation with THR, Strong dives even deeper into the audition process for voice roles, and then she explains why she wants more synergy between live-action and animated comic book properties.

Since you have a few voice roles [nearly 600] under your belt…

(Laughs.) Just a couple.

I have to imagine that you just got a phone call for Loki‘s Miss Minutes.

I had to audition! It’s actually quite surprising for many people to learn that most voice actors — even ones who’ve been in the business for 30 or 40 years — often audition for parts they’ve already had. You have to constantly keep proving yourself in auditioning for new studio people and new showrunners even though they may have hours and hours of tape on you for a character you’ve already done. But this character, since it was new, needed an entire audition process because I think they were in search of what felt best for this character. So I’m happy to audition, and thankfully, it worked out. (Laughs.)

How much did they tell you?

Normally, for an audition, they’ll give you a drawing of the character, a character description, sides and some backstory into their world, but we really got very little information. I called my agent after I received the packet, and I was like, “Um, can you tell me anything else about this character? Is she sentient? Is she A.I.?” And my agent was like, “I don’t really know.” So nobody knew what it was because it was so top secret. In fact, I didn’t know what it was until I booked it, which, of course, was very exciting. So based on the information that I had, I laid down three different versions in my home studio. I always do the preliminary audition in my home studio. Sometimes, it’ll take me 5 minutes, and sometimes, it’ll take me 3 hours to get it exactly right, knowing that there’s hundreds or thousands of people vying for one role. So I’ll think about what’s going to separate me from the other people and how I’m going to give them something special that they’ll glom onto. For this one, there were three different versions: one of them included an accent, one was a little bit more A.I and one had a little more emotion attached to it. Obviously, once I saw what it was, it made sense that they were keeping it on the DL.

Did they inform you at some point that they wanted an homage to Mr. DNA from Jurassic Park?

No, they didn’t! In fact, I didn’t even know that until I saw Kate Herron talking about it in an interview. I didn’t even make that connection initially when I first started seeing some of the footage. But it is a fun comparison because they both have this juxtaposition of very high-end, modern technology with very basic, classic ’60 and ’70s animation. So it’s this beautiful mix of things that just somehow seem to go together to create this visually stunning and exciting world, as well as the voiceover behind it. It just all seems to go together to create this enigma. Who is she? Where is she from? What’s her origin story? Why does she look like she’s from the ’70s but she knows everything from the future. It’s really cool.

When it came time to record in earnest, you must’ve been baffled by what you were reading, but then again, you’re probably used to it.

Yeah, and I’ve done several voices with similar descriptions and similar varying levels of A.I. I was the voice of the singing refrigerator [Bridget] on an episode of Modern Family, and initially, they wanted it very Siri-like. And then we added a little more attitude to it. So I’ve done that sort of thing several times, and I know how to manipulate my voice enough to sound like A.I. It’s that sound where you question whether there’s actual emotion behind it. Miss Minutes is such an interesting character because initially you think she’s just someone who’s giving exposition on what happens to you when you get to the TVA. But by episode two, you realize she’s got a little attitude. So she’s a lot of fun to play with.

Before live-action comic book stories became a global juggernaut, animated comic book movies and shows were a primary frame of reference for a lot of these characters. So I’ve always felt that there could be more synergy or crossover between live action and the animation/voice acting community. Are you hopeful that your role as Miss Minutes can help bridge that gap?

That would be pretty wonderful. It is true that voice actors and legacy voice actors — who’ve been at it for so long and are so brilliant at bringing characters to life just with their voice — get passed over for on-camera celebrities that maybe the casting director wants to meet or because someone thinks they’ll bring big box office. If you were to record two very big animated features, one starring on-camera people and one starring people who’ve been doing voiceover for a while, you would definitely hear the difference in the little idiosyncrasies and other things that we know how to do in order to bring this action to life. Overall, there certainly is plenty of crossover when you look at someone like Robin Williams, Tom Hanks, or my favorite, Mark Hamill, who’s brilliant at doing both on-camera and voiceover. But then you do have the A-list celebrities who will come in for an animated session and freak out when they see what everyone else does. Of course, it’s still acting, but it’s a different form of acting. It’s like asking a tap dancer if they do ballet. It is wonderful that the Internet has given voiceover actors a lot of love that maybe their predecessors never knew existed. Now, people can look up who their favorite voiceover actor is, and when I go to a comic con, I’m treated like a superstar who people know. It’s wonderful to be able to give back to those fans, and give hugs, and hear stories about how shows shaped their childhood or brought their family together or got them through a depressing time. So that kind of stuff has been really nice. I certainly didn’t anticipate Loki being so huge, and the reception to Miss Minutes being so wonderful and so loving right out of the gate. So maybe this will give networks [and studios] pause, so they think, “Hey, let’s give one of the voiceover actors a shot at this role. Maybe it’ll be more fun than so and so from The Office. Just for this time, let’s see how this goes.” (Laughs.) If somebody suits the role and does a great job, they should be granted that role regardless of how many Twitter followers they have or how many episodes of an episodic they’ve done.

Loki director Kate Herron said that Miss Minutes is about to go on an “interesting” journey. So what can you cryptically tease about Miss Minutes moving forward?

Well, I can cryptically tease that you’ll see her again. (Laughs.) There’s much more to be revealed, and it’s fun to watch that unfold. When you see the first episode, you think perhaps that she’s just a recording on a screen, but in episode two, we see that she can become a holographic form and interact with Loki. He even responded to her and asked, “Are you a recording, or are you alive?” And we still don’t know. The beautiful thing about this character is you don’t really know who she is, where she’s from, what her origin story is, how sentient she is, if she has a horse in this race at all, and what her intentions are, if any. Like any good, exciting adventure, TV or film, you are left wondering that all the time. So she’s an intriguing character, and that will continue.

She got her own character poster, so that’s usually a sign of importance.

She did! And she has her own Twitter! She also has the cutest emoji hashtag I’ve ever seen in my life. (Laughs.)

When Morgan Freeman gets hired for voiceover work, he’s hired to do Morgan Freeman. So what percentage of your jobs ask you to invent a voice, versus using something that’s trademark Tara Strong?

That’s a very good question. Like I said before, they’ll give you a drawing of the character and some backstory into who they are. And then you, as the voice actor, have to try and imagine what production had in mind for this character. With that said, you have to be free to let something organic come to you and take chances. Sometimes, things don’t happen until the very last minute. My favorite example of that would be Teen Titans. When I first read for that, I was already doing five tragic teenage girls: Batgirl for the same network, Ingrid from Fillmore!, Kylie from Extreme Ghostbusters and Shareena Wickett from Detention. I was like, “Gosh, I have to make each character different, but I’m not sure how to make Raven stand apart from the other similar descriptive personalities.” So when I read for Raven, I just put myself in the acting mindset of where she was, and I read the part. And when I walked out of the studio, I passed the booth where the engineer, director and writer were sitting. So I turned to [casting director] Andrea Romano, who I’d been working on Batgirl, and said, “I just had this other idea. Can I try something else?” And she said, “Sure.” So I went back in and that’s when I had this idea that Raven had this weird little roll every time she spoke. So that was not something I planned when I first walked into the studio. You have to be unafraid to try something new and different, and to also be malleable to what production wants. Sometimes, they’ll really love what you did, but then they’ll want her to be older, or missing teeth, or have headgear, or Southern. (Laughs.) So you have to be ready to jump right in and try all kinds of different things until it lands right into the pocket of what works for that voice.

Would you perform your voice roles the same way in live action? Or would you use less inflection?

More than likely, it would be less broad because the cameras are there. On an animated show, if the line is “Whoa!” and your character sees a hot guy or is falling off a cliff, you have to know how to bring that action forth with your voice. When you’re watching something on-camera unfold in front of you, you don’t have to tell the audience so much with your voice. If you’re doing a sitcom, it’s going to be bigger than if you’re doing a single-camera drama. I just worked on a series for 6 months in Toronto, and my character was basically an on-camera Harley but as a drug-dealer mom. It’s a show called Pretty Hard Cases. And it wouldn’t have worked if I played her as broad as animation. With that said, if I got to play actual Harley Quinn as a mom, it would be bigger than that, but probably not as big as an animated thing. It would be somewhere in the middle. Even within animation, you tweak your level of performance based on the world. For instance, I’ve done many iterations of Harley where she’s the high school girl, or in some cases, she’s even darker than Joker. So you have to know the world around you. Some of the best actors that sustain long careers are very highly aware of what environment they’re in at each moment. So the show or the movie really dictates the level of performance.

[katsidhe]

15.20 Final Thoughts

Supernatural is over, and somehow, despite itself, it did the very best it could to please me. That was always going to be an impossible task. But truly, sincerely, that finale was as close to my desires as the show could ever bring itself to come, and so, so much closer than I ever dreamed it would dare.

I am so, so glad that no other regular characters were involved (Bobby aside, but he was brief). How better to encapsulate their own emptiness? How fundamentally fitting, than in the epilogue to their final battle, wherein the entire world beyond them was erased, the wider universe is merely set dressing for them to move through. And it was so quiet this way. This finale wasn’t overcrowded or rushed. It kept its own peace. And it preserved the tangible claustrophobia that 15.19 invoked: that tangled, lovely, solipsistic, toxic conviction that these are the only two people on earth that matter.

It’s unclear exactly how much time passed between 15.19 and 15.20. I like to think it’s been at least a year, given that they’ve settled into routine and that their grief seems less fresh. (Although yes, the concept of Dean dying on his very first hunt without a resurrection available is hilarious, I must confess.) Their calm domesticity, their peace, was lovely to watch (Sam kicking the laundry machine! Sam with wet hair! Sam running! Sam cooking, Sam looking a little less bulky than usual, and happy!) But man, it really is Dean’s world, isn’t it? Even the DOG, which really, really, really could reasonably have been primarily Sam’s, was Dean’s dog first and foremost. Then on Dean’s say-so, they get in Dean’s car to drive to a pie festival for Dean. Sam is perfectly content to go along with all of it.

As if we hadn’t gotten enough delightful fanservice, we also got one last scene of Sam threatening to torture someone to death. :) what a king.

I love that Dean died to an OSHA violation while fighting a random loose end from season 1 (which, by the way, I CALLED IT, I am so proud of myself). It’s perfectly mundane. I truly and deeply do not understand anyone complaining that Dean should have gone out in a way that’s more epic. He’s been there, done that, guys, and remember how miserable it was? Now there’s no cosmic safety net. Dean died in a broken down old barn, saving some kids. Moments like these are when Dean is at his best, at his most fundamentally sympathetic: when he’s not trying to control the shape of the universe or dictate righteousness or let his anger drive himself down into a destructive spiral. He’s just putting his money where his mouth is. He’s not making a broad moral statement. He’s simply putting his life on the line to defend someone who needs defending. It is not an unworthy end. It’s so much better than going out to, god forbid, God.

Did Dean earn a lifetime of peace? The concept of just desserts is fraught. But I also don’t think it’s something Dean wanted. He wanted to keep killing things in tetanus-infested barns until he died. He got what he wanted. And while the arc of his wants has adapted over the years, MOTW hunting is fulfilling for him.

Dean’s deathbed speech was, oh man. It got me good. Like many of the things I loved in this episode, it was quiet. No desperation, no revising history (or not too much, anyway). Just, “stay with me, please. I love you. Tell me it’s okay.”

The quiet of Sam’s grief, alone in the bunker. How still his face is, until for a little bit it crumples again, and then it comes back and goes still. He’s not trying to control his reactions or press back against his sorrow. There is no work to do, nothing to avenge, no one to find, nothing to defeat. He is alone, and the washes of visible grief simply come and go in waves that he doesn’t try to fight or force.

I need the gif of him flinching at the toaster. His startle reactions are my favorite thing. He’s alone underground, there is not a living soul for miles and miles, he’s just buried his brother, not for the first time, but this time, he knows, for the last. And the goddamn toaster goes off and he cannot control the way his heart leaps up into his throat and the way every one of his muscles tightens.

Sam grows old. Sam. Grows old. Sam grows old! SAM GROWS OLD.

Ohhh my God, Sam grows old. Without Dean! Without hunting! Without Cas! With people outside that claustrophobic world, beyond the four tight walls of SPN, beyond the people approved by Dean and by Fandom, who give him peace and love and fulfillment! SAM GOT OUT. Even with the truly terrible wig the image brings me to actual tears. I cannot believe SPN would allow him to have this. I cannot believe that the show let him be happy without Dean. I want to read the set of novelizations about Sam’s recovery.

Of course this was the only way for Sam to get unwound, and of course it had to happen offscreen in flashes. Thank god for the ambiguity. There’s so much potential there, years and years, we were simply told: and at some point Sam’s life gets better, at some point his mental health improves and he feels safe enough to start a family, with someone, and at some point he has a child, and he dies peacefully, he dies loved and with people who love him, and dammit I’m getting weepy again.

Sam quit hunting. Not in a sudden jolt. We see him leaving the bunker on another job. But when he leaves the bunker, he leaves for good. He has so much knowledge, but he does not preserve the Men of Letters. He does not honor their legacy of extermination and experimentation. Maybe he gives someone else the keys, for the books. Or maybe he’s digitized it all, and maybe it’s done.

Maybe his wife is Eileen, or maybe it’s Amelia, or maybe it’s Piper or Cara or maybe it’s someone new. Maybe it’s not even a woman. And maybe she’s a hunter, but I hope she isn’t, and when Sam tells her, haltingly, in fits and starts, the bare outline of the truth, she looks at him and she believes him. And she understands the shape of the trauma he carries, even if Sam can’t quite speak the details, and maybe Sam goes to therapy. Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he wakes in pain and fear for many years, but over time, it dulls.

Sam’s son is still a young man when Sam is on his deathbed, probably in at least his eighties. Think about the mountain Sam had to climb to reach that point. How many years and years of work did it take before Sam felt safe enough to want a child? How long for him to gently conquer his terror at the legacy his blood might carry: Lucifer and Azazel are dead, he knows this, but how long before he lets himself believe it enough to permit the risk? And then he raises his child, not in fear and loneliness, but with love and support and care. And he makes sure his son is protected, that he knows to salt his thresholds and ward against demons, but his son will not suffer the way he suffered.

Maybe he untangles his thoughts about Dean, maybe he learns that to feel angry with his brother is not to betray him or to dishonor his memory, maybe he comes to a more complex understanding of their relationship. Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he simply enshrines Dean, and Dean’s memory becomes ever more golden and untarnished, and the Impala becomes truly an altar. The details of how Sam carries Dean with him—the watch, the car, the absurdly large photos, his son’s name—perhaps these are played straight, and perhaps Sam never finds a more nuanced love. In the meta sense I think we are certainly meant to think this. We are meant to see Dean deified here, canonized into a saint. We are meant to view Sam’s fifty more years of life as worship, as a dedication and an offering.

This is the long shadow of the finale. These are the things untouched by necessity and by design: this is Dean’s apology in 15.18, this is Sam not wanting an apology, and not wanting to hear Dean offer one. This difficult work was always and inevitably going to be elided. But there is so much time, decades and decades, offscreen, for Sam to come to a quieter peace.

I think he can do it.

I think Sam can do anything.

I’m crying again.

I really didn’t think I would cry much about the finale. I thought I would cry at the concept of the show ending, but not at what the ending was. I didn’t think any details would actually affect me. But then Sam got old. I am truly and genuinely hung up on the canonical image of Sam finding peace. Good god. He had GLASSES. Help.

My chief complaint (aside from that absolutely awful Carry On cover, why oh why, they should have just played the original again), if I felt at all like complaining at the moment, would be how happy this ending is. But I can’t begrudge Sam that. I can’t even get too mad at the scene that I was SO SURE I would despise: that of Sam and Dean content in a Heaven that is now apparently Great, Actually (even though a prison dimension with an open floor plan is still a prison dimension, but hey, I guess we humans can’t leave earth either). Supernatural clearly wanted Sam and Dean to not be facing down an abyssally bleak afterlife, and I think I’d be complaining about the lack of bleakness a whole lot more if it didn’t have the (perhaps unintended??) side effect of giving Sam even more freedom from Dean than SPN already deigned to give him. Sam isn’t in a shared cell with Dean. He can be with his friends and his wife and his son.

One of the fundamental questions of SPN is, would Dean ever let Sam go? And it’s a question that the bulk of s13-15 has rendered moot with Sam’s growing passivity, and one that 15.20 neatly dodged. And I’m glad it did, because I wouldn’t have liked whatever 15.20 had to say on the matter. This deflection feels true to the spirit of what the show has become.

It was impossible for Sam to find peace while Dean was still alive. And on its own that kind of says everything, doesn’t it? And Sam is still forever denied the peace he truly longed for. Sam didn’t want death to force Dean’s hand. Sam wanted Dean to want to let him go. But the only way Sam and Dean could heal is apart. The potential of their relationship on earth becoming untangled is forever precluded, explictly. And yet Sam’s freedom is validated, Sam is allowed what he sought in season 1 and season 8, Sam is something beyond a hunter and Dean’s brother, and the show let him be, the show let him grow.

Supernatural said Sam Rights, and the world shook.

[a-student-out-of-time]

That's not up to you to decide, GROW UP

…Alright, maybe it’s true. Maybe a lot of dangerous stuff has happened these last few months, and we should’ve let you and the rest of her family know she’s alright.

But...Hiyoko has a right to choose what she wants to do with her life. Did you ask her if she wanted to come back here?

As I said, she’s a child, she has no idea what’s good for her. Just like her mother.

That doesn’t mean she doesn’t get to make her own choices. Besides, she’ll be 18 next year!

And am I not allowed to make a choice? What about my choice to protect the legacy and future of our clan when it’s clear nobody else in this family cares about that?

There was a time and place the people of this country had pride in who we were, we had strength, unity and a vision for our nation. And it seems like none of your generation cares about that.

No, you’d rather spend your days on useless games, comics and television. You have no drive, no vision for the future, no hope to call your own. You’re leading this country to its extinction and nobody has the sense to stop you.

If that’s your idea of what Japan should be, it’s no wonder people are leaving it behind, especially if you think it’s okay to uproot someone’s life against their will.

Yeah! Do you even know what it’s like for kids when you force them to do things against their will?!

It hurts them. Hurts them in ways you can’t even imagine. And if all you can say is “it’s for your own good,” that’s a load of crap. It’s about you and what you want, not what they want.

What I want is for you to learn your place, you little brat.

Your parents obviously didn’t discipline you enough to show respect to your elders.

...

Maybe that’s because discipline isn’t as important as love. Do NOT talk to Kotoko like that.

Love. Tch. As if a two-bit bastard child would know anything about-

You really think you have everything figured out, don’t you?

Yes, I’m a bastard child. So what? This isn’t the Sengoku Jidai anymore, it’s 2012! You think it’s wrong for people to care about illegitimate children?

I think it’s wrong that this country is moving further and further from the values that made it what it is in the first place.

Our traditions are what founded this country and our traditions are what have kept it alive through everything. But ever since they started letting these pushy, grabby, selfish foreigners in, we’ve lost sight of that. Our morals have gone to shit.

Now your generation has the audacity to claim you know better than your elders. There was a time when the youth acted properly.

Was that before or after they tried to conquer Asia? Or Unit-731? Or those generations of Koreans, Chinese, and Ainu they treated as sub-human? Or even those laborers that got labeled as “filthy?”

They had the privilege of knowing their place and staying in it. But no, they’re nothing but greedy, coming into our homes, wanting our women and money, eating our food, trying to push us real Japanese around.

That’s why I can’t stand this holiday. It’s bad enough I have to be reminded of those disgusting Ainu parasites living in-

Bite. Your tongue.

Kimika...I would’ve expected better from you.

Better by whose standards? Yours? I’ve tried to at least be tolerant of your behavior, but now...now I’m done pretending.

How dare you. How dare you not only treat your daughter and granddaughter like trash, but refuse to even acknowledge your son-in-law.

And how dare you keep up this disgusting victim-blaming attitude. The Ainu and Koreans have endured because of us. For someone who champions Japanese ideals, you certainly seem comfortable with these imperialist ideals we assimilated from the Europeans.

Oh, because you’re a teacher, you think you know better than me?

Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.

I know you haven’t been honest to Hiyoko about her own lineage. Were you just hoping that would never be brought up?

Huh?

If any of you say one about-

Hiyoko, did you know you’re Korean on your Dad’s side?

Whoopsie.

[pluviophile-bookworm]

AWAE 3x3 rewatch: thoughts and reactions

So I made a ginormous pause in between these again. I just wasn’t feeling up to the task, I guess. But it’s the anniversary of the premiere of AWAE, so what better day to do the penultimate one of these... Let’s just dive in because it’s been literal years since I first saw this episode and I remember literally nothing from it.

Oh my, Bash is just the best. And those baby chicks... well, I know what is most likely to happen to chickens on a farm when they grow older but... can we just maybe not think of that yet? Plus, seeing Mary keeps reminding me that soon I won’t be seeing her anymore. It’s safe to say I have mixed feelings about this cold open. Let’s move on.

Gosh, now they’re leaving Matthew alone with Delly, who is two types of people he’s uncomfortable around - a baby and a girl. But it’s fine, it will be just ‘a couple of hours’...

It is such a shame to think that Mary might have been saved... if she were white. People can be so awful. A human being is a human being. At least there are people like Dr. Ward and our protagonists who know that and act accordingly.

Oh... there’s that cute scene of Matthew showing Delly around Green Gables that I’ve seen in so many gifs... I can’t comment much on it so I’ll just sit back and enjoy. But before I go - Matthew is the best, most gentle man I’ve ever seen. He might be awkward around women and children, but he knows how to treat them right better than most people who are not awkward around them.

Oh gosh, the nappy! That kind of made me laugh out of place but, well, I just wanted to say - thank gods for Jerry and his many siblings. My boy knows how to change nappies.

Oh, they’ve got the printing press! Now that’s exciting! I feel like excitement is a good word to describe this episode, at least so far. We’ll see how I feel by the end of it. All I know is this is making me smile and I’ve really been needing that.

My, my, Ruby... I keep forgetting when it was that she got over Gilbert. Apparently it was not before mid-season, since she’s still in it way too deep. 

Oh wait... is this when things began happening between her and Moody? I mean, the way he gives her his handkerchief, you’d think ever since he stopped trying to make Diana and her ‘very blue’ dress notice him, he’s been sitting back and watching Ruby from afar, hoping he can, somehow, compare to Gilbert. The best part is, in just a bit, he won’t need to. Boy, do I need a fourth season even if just to see these two develop... and for Diana and Jerry to make up, and just in general to see the kids being all grown up... now I feel like crying because we’ll very probably never get it... ok, moving on.

Anne: Sometimes life finds gifts in the darkest of places./ Marilla: Indeed. Wait, was this Marilla’s way of telling Anne she loves her? This is just the best. 

The contrast between scenes dealing with Mary and the rest of the episode is just so stark, it’s jarring. It’s like, you never know the darkness someone might be sinking into  while everybody else is bathing in the light. You know, everybody involved in making this episode, and the show in its entirety, made it so poetic, and yet it’s not. It’s absolutely devastating. And now Gilbert can’t even tell Mary that she’s got no more than two weeks left. This is the worst. 

You know, Anne is right. Caring deeply will always be the right thing. I mean, it’s natural for Gilbert to doubt himself at this time, especially since the tragedy is happening to his own found family. You know, there’s something my mum taught me to do when I’m watching something and I can’t bear the subject matter of it - focus on the acting. And right now I’m just blown away by the superb performance by these incredible young people. But I really can’t bear to focus on the plot right now. And the acting being that good doesn’t particularly help me to detach myself from the story.

You know, tragic as what’s happening to Mary certainly is, it’s somehow lucky she has Anne in her life now that she’s about to leave her own daughter to grow up motherless. Because if only Anne’s parents had an orphan tell them what an orphaned child needs most, Anne’s own experience might have been very different. Mary is a very smart woman for realising that and talking to Anne about it. Because life is not about lamenting what we didn’t have. It’s about making sure we do what is in our power to make it easier for others if we can.

Ah, yes. Racism and ‘White Man’s Burden’ mentality are still very much a thing present here. I guess this here is the first mention of that horrible prison of a school that Ka’kwet would be sent to. This is. The. Worst.

I just can’t bear to listen to this guy. ‘Heathens’ - you mean people with a rich culture and belief system beyond your privileged straight white male comprehension? ‘Teach them all things civilised’ - you mean erase their own, I repeat, rich culture, and replace it with your white man’s ideas of civilisation? What deity fell from the heavens and made you God? And the way Rachel totally agrees with this guy, it just makes me sick. As if that guy would hesitate to discriminate against you on the basis of you being a woman! I just can’t with this. Let’s move on.

‘Be sure you marry for love. Only for love.’ Don’t worry, Mary, he will. Not before a huge, long period of confusion, mind you. But he’ll come to his senses eventually. People do stupid things when they’re young. That’s how they know they’ve lived it to the fullest.

Rachel just baffles me, you know. And Marilla, too, isn’t quite faultless here. How can you be so accepting of one kind of POC, yet so cruel to another? Then I remember their initial reactions to meeting Bash. They were not the most accepting at first. Yet they can see how they’ve now grown to accept and care deeply about Bash and Mary and Delphine. Why can’t they give Ka’kwet’s people a chance like this?

‘You may well have saved some Indians today’... Saved them? From what? Being free to practice their own culture? You know, white people can be so very ignorant... and I say that as a very white person. I’m just ashamed of everything my ethnicity has done to literally every other ethnicity.

‘I don’t wanna die’... You know, sometimes I do, and right now that makes me feel so ashamed. I should really think of Mary and also every real person who had an untimely death whenever I’m having those thoughts again. We should all learn to appreciate life so much more.

So this is the one with Mary’s Easter... this is beautiful. I might have to rescind my ‘excitement’ statement from earlier, but there is still a theme of beauty, love and family throughout this. Well, technically throughout the entire series, but especially here. I love this. 

Delphine with a flower crown is the cutest thing ever...

Minnie May: She looks like a chocolate candy. I just... took notice of how the background music abruptly stopped. You know, coming from an older person, this would sound... not at all ok. But this 7-year-old didn’t mean any harm, and they realise it after a brief moment of panic in their eyes. Still... black people don’t call us, idk, butter or something. We should not compare their skin colour to chocolate.

Their singing is absolutely beautiful. But let’s be real - in a real-life situation, most of the people would be way off-key and those harmonies would be impossible to arrange. Still, for this beauty, I am willing to suspend my disbelief for miles. Also, that prayer at the end... well, I’m not Christian, but I am religious, and I know the power of a prayer as poetic as this one. However hard it must have been for Mary to know she wouldn’t live, it must have been a great consolation to know she would go in such a way, surrounded by so much beauty and love, and light. Well, that ending was bittersweet! But I absolutely loved this episode. Except for the racist parts that made me absolutely livid. It’s so frustrating to know there is still so much hate in the world based just on minor superficial differences between people. Yet it would have been even more frustrating if we didn’t have people in the world like our protagonists (and especially the protagonist, Anne). It is such an absolute shame that this show, and others like it, got cancelled over some trivial issues and wasn’t given the proper chance to develop its positive messages even further. But still, even with just the 27 episodes it was given, it was able to cover so much ground. I don’t know what to say. AWAE is just supreme.

Let’s sum up: the final weeks of Mary’s life; racial prejudice might have just cost this lovely woman, a wife and a mother, her life; Matthew showing Delly around Green Gables is the sweetest thing; the first press-printed issue of The Avonlea Gazette, with a significant typo; and thus, a ship was born; subtle ways of saying those three little words; ‘Caring deeply will always be the right thing.’; the legacy of a mother; ‘White Man’s Burden’ mentality is alive and dangerous; double standards regarding the acceptance of POC; Mary’s Easter; going surrounded by a loving community.