#i should've been writing my novel instead of this

[darkchocolatedimples]

endings are bittersweet (for you and me)

ngl its 11:00pm on saturday but i did want to make something for keefitz week considering the brain rot sorting through taylor swift's albums threw me into, but i was super busy so i just finished right now. i think this loosely follows the prompts for days 2 and 3. thank you @when-wax-wings-melt and @skylilac for hosting this!! its such a fun idea!

heavily taylor swift inspired fic under the cut!! (songs in the tags)

Hindsight is the clearest rearview mirror, and it’s in hindsight that Keefe should’ve known there was a flaw in his plans for the day. Afterall, Fitz being open to hearing him out wasn’t entirely in his cards.

Maybe when they were younger, before he’d ran way (twice), it would’ve been. But now, Fitz seems to have less to say and more scores to settle. Keefe guesses that's fair. He's not beyond owning up to what he did.

Yet he doesn't entirely expect Fitz to simply nod hello and cut to the chase of whatever he wanted to say. Although, Keefe had probably relinquished the luxury of speaking first when he tore Fitz’s heart in two and walked away. 

At least, he assumes that’s what he did. And it was, if Fitz had actually cared. But maybe Keefe miscalculated that as well.

“You know, I was thinking…” Well that was wonderful, Keefe had been thinking too, over and over again, over the words they’d said and if they’d meant anything at all and if it was fair to ask for it all again- “And I want my bramble jersey back.”

Keefe blinks. “What?”

“You took it like, years ago? Remember the one?” Fitz prompts, accent crisp and unforgiving.

The bramble jersey. The one he forgot he still owned- no, the one he’d forgotten he’d stolen from Fitz’s closet ages ago, before they drifted apart, before everything got complicated, before Sophie even. Though some of those things were related.

“Do you seriously want it back?” he asks underneath his breath, lowering his head towards the ground so Fitz wouldn’t see the water beginning to gather in the corner of his eyes, as if he didn’t already know it was one of his nervous tells. Why was it so tough for him to imagine? Whatever this was between them fell apart ages ago. So why did returning the jersey feeling like sealing their tragic fate?

They’d always known they were bound to burn in the end.

“If you still have it,” Fitz confirms, digging his heel into the ground. Keefe can't tell what his face looks like, but if he had to guess, he’d imagine a perfect ‘gosh, I’m sorry’ grimace that doesn't look half as mean as it should on someone. Fitz is better than everyone else, anyways.

Keefe used to be able to contest to that. Keefe used to know the taller like the back of his hand; understand him better than he understood himself. Keefe knew Fitz, and even if he doesn't anymore, he knows what this must be to him. A last little loose end to wrap up so they can leave this decaying chapter of their lives in the past and move on. Be mature and embrace new beginnings. Ones that might last. But Keefe just feels like a weed being plucked.

He probably is a weed, infecting the perfect garden of Fitz’s life since the moment he’d taken his hand that day when they were kids. So if it's better to leave, if it's better to move on, why is it so hard? Why can't he let them die?

"I'll try to find it," Keefe mumbles beneath his breath.

Fitz shrugs, "Thanks," and then it's over and he's light leaping away like he didn't tear Keefe's plans to rekindle their relationship down the middle and leave him in sprinkles from the sky, slowly gaining weight. Only fitting, considering Keefe left first, and the weather was worse.

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Raindrops the size of bullets pierced Fitz's skin, drenching his hair and tunic and blurring his vision as he tried to find the right lock to click open the way Keefe had described to him years ago. A useless piece of information, considering he'd never intentionally brought Fitz to his home, but the request of "Tell me something I don't know about you," had arisen under lazy pink skies and that was the only thing the blonde could think of. They'd already known everything there was to know about the other at age twelve.

The door creaked and Fitz pushed it out of the way, fumbling into the foyer as his clothes dripped water onto the mat. He only rubbed his boots against it for moment before leading himself up to Keefe's bedroom.

If Lord Cassius was home at the moment, he didn't run into Fitz as he made his way through the halls. He wouldn't have much to say if he did, although his reason for the impromptu visit was innocent enough. Cassius probably wouldn't believe it.

Would anyone?

Maybe that's why Fitz was here: because he had something to prove. He needed to convince everyone he didn't consider his relationship with Keefe a hopeless cause.  

He needed to convince Keefe himself.

So really, shuffling around in his closet for his favorite sweater wouldn't hurt. It would show him he cared, he remembered, maybe even help him remember-

A cluttering noise caught Fitz off guard before he could start ruffling through the clothes in the chest before him, and the man flitting quickly down the stairs shocked him cold. 

Days later, Fitz would be stuck wondering why he didn't give up sooner; why he hadn't thrown Keefe away like a broken record when everyone had expected him to. At least then he wouldn't have been present for this. His heart would've been spared.

"Keefe?" he asked tentatively, making the blonde boy flinch as he raised his head, spotting him. "What are you doing here?"

Keefe shrugged, holding up the elixirs he was carrying, but he didn't speak. Fitz hadn't entirely expected him to.

"Back to pulling pranks already?" The empty smile Keefe gave him sent chills through his body. It almost felt...mournful. "I thought you're supposed to be at Elwin's."

At that, Keefe couldn't hide his grimace, and Fitz couldn't help but sound accusatory when he noticed. "What's the bag for?"

His hunch must have been right if it made Keefe curve into himself in shame. "No, you can't seriously be- Again?"

"Keefe, don't," he pleaded, abandoning the open chest to make his way towards his friend. "They said they'd help you, Alina and Oralie and whoever else."

"It's not enough," Keefe croaked out, facing the floor, and Fitz sighed.

"How would you know that? Have you even tried?" He shook his head, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Keefe, please don't leave on all of us again."

The noise that left the younger’s throat sounded equal parts distraught and irritated, like he couldn’t deal with any of this much longer. That was probably why he was leaving anyways; maybe everyone’s nagging to just try and just believe wasn’t working, and maybe Fitz was only making things worse. So he tried a different approach. “Please don’t do this to us.”

Us was a large term in broad daylight; but like this, in the rain, alone, Keefe had to have known who Fitz was referring to. “Us” was Fitz and Keefe, like it should’ve always been. But things got too complicated for “us” to be just them anymore.

And it was probably those same things that made Keefe push back the hoarseness in his throat from lack of use just to say, “I’m sorry.”

But Fitz couldn’t give up. Giving up was giving in to everyone else’s idea that they were falling apart, and Fitz would be damned to call himself a Vacker if he gave up. “Please stay Keefe. For me.”

It was a stretch, but the words hung between them for a moment, vulnerable, open, and targeted, and Fitz almost wished he could snatch them back and fashion them into a more formal request, something that better fit the current state of their relationship. 

And then Keefe shook his head.

“Oh…oh.” Fitz stumbled back, tripping into the bed. “Carry on, then.”

Keefe didn’t waste a second before exiting the room.

Fitz only wondered if he’d felt his heart splintering as he’d rushed past.

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The question itself was unfair. How could Fitz have expected anything else when there were bigger things at play than just the both of them? Keefe had a reason for leaving, and he doesn't entirely regret it.

But that wasn’t what hurt him. Fitz wasn’t stupid, he knew it wouldn’t work. Alas, he still put himself out there, waiting for some sort of signal or sign that Keefe cared. And he didn’t give it to him.

He walked out. Without a second thought. And he’s regretted it everyday since, because if he had to go back and pinpoint a moment when their lives stopped being intertwined and became two lonely strands of bitterness, he’d say it was right then, when he’d shaken his head and said nothing. That was his mistake. This is his fault.

He hadn’t said anything, and now Fitz is done waiting. He wants his jersey back. He wants this to be over.

So Keefe digs through his room and finds it buried under tunics he’d never liked and capes he wanted to tear to shreds for years. A piece of fabric that held more memories than he’d like to admit. Sifting through the emotions tied to a simple jersey shouldn’t feel like a landslide, but maybe Keefe’s empathy is still oversensitive. Or maybe Fitz just means much more to him than he should.

Keefe doesn't want to think about it anymore. He doesn't want to think at all, about how everything is falling apart, about how stupid he is for having this occupying his head when there was a war to be worrying about. But even if they won, what was he coming back to?

He slipped the jersey over his head, watching it fall down his frame in the mirror and wondering how it was still big on him. He'd always been smaller than Fitz, but he assumed he'd grown. Apparently, not half as much as he'd thought. He tore his eyes away from his reflection before he dwelled on it for much longer.

It became habit, at some point along the way, to flip open his gold journal to a fresh, blank page and cover it with the sparkle in Fitz’s teal eyes as he looked at someone else, the swoop of his hair and the angles of his jaw. Today, however, when Keefe let the pencil in his hand guide him to whatever image his mind was creating, the slopes of nose smaller, his jaw softer, and his hair longer and slightly more unruly. Fitz was younger, and asleep, in the same jersey Keefe was wearing now.

If he closed his eyes it almost smelled like him.

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“Fitz…Fitz wake up.” 

It was a solemn thing, to have to wake up the boy when he was so blissfully passed out, gentle features rounded out by the pillow underneath his head.

Keefe considered letting him sleep, but being only six years old made him increasingly impatient, and there wasn't much to do with his best friend snug asleep in the bed next to him. He sighed, sitting up and letting the blankets pool around him.

"Fitz. Fitz. Wake up loser," he whined, pushing the elder's shoulder. He only let out a groan in response.

After another shove and tearing off the covers to expose him to the cold air, Fitz blinked groggily, rubbing his eyes to make them focus on the blonde boy next to him. Keefe reached over to the bedside table and handed him his glasses.

Fitz mumbled something like a thank you, slipping them on and looking at him with tired confusion on his face. Keefe misses the look of it, he hadn't worn his glasses in years, but they'd always hold a special place in his heart, nestled right next to the beginnings of their friendship. "Is it the middle of the night?"

"No, I think it's morning," Keefe answered. "And I'm bored."

"Well, I think we should go to sleep again," Fitz decided, turning over and burying his bed head back into the pillows. Keefe wonders how he hadn't changed in the ten years since.

"No!" And he hadn't either. Not by much, besides their friendship holding on by a single thread.

Fitz groaned as Keefe pulled the blankets away again, bothering him as much as he could. "Keefe, you know if we sleep in a little longer Mom and Dad will let us just eat mallowmelt instead of breakfast?" he mentioned.

Keefe stopped his meddling abruptly. It never really was a hard task to get his attention, especially with food involved. "Really?"

"Oh yeah," Fitz confirmed. Keefe considered it for a moment, about to settle back into the bed before they heard footsteps coming down the hall. The boys widened their eyes at each other.

The two dove under the covers, doing their best attempt of faking sleep before the door unlocked.

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The door swings open as Biana twirls in with at least six different cosmetics in her hands and a flowing purple dress barely hanging onto her shoulders. “Ah! Fitz, zip me up, will you?”

Fitz does as asked, moving her hair out of the way as she set all the products down on the bathroom counter and tries to find the lip gloss she wants. She settles on a light tint of purple that matches her dress.

“Where are you going?” Fitz questions, leaning back against the wall when he’s done.

“Dinner with the Dizznee’s. Haven’t really been able to spend time with them since school started,” she explains, rubbing her lips together.

“Right,” Fitz agrees, watching her flit about the bathroom, getting ready. 

“How was Keefe earlier?”

“Oh.” Fitz doesn’t remember telling Biana what he was doing that morning, and something about her nonchalance was unsettling. He probably hadn’t told her at all. It wouldn’t be surprising, Biana knows everything there is to know about him anyways. Perhaps more than himself. “He was… Alright, I guess. I asked for my jersey back.”

Biana freezes. Her eyes fly across the mirror to look into his. “You did what?”

“I asked for it back. The jersey, from when we were kids,” Fitz clarifies. 

She sighs, turning back to herself in the mirror. Her words are almost exasperated when she reminds, “You still are kids, you know. We all are. That’s why none of this works.”

Fitz could ask what she was referring to; the war? Being members of the Black Swan? Their friendships? He could ask, but he can tell with the tired look in her eyes that she means the latter.

“I don’t think I like Sophie,” he admits softly out of the blue. The words dance across the fragile ice in the air, like they’d break it and send everything crumbling if they wanted to. “No, I know I don’t.”

Biana’s responding chuckle melts the ice before they have a chance to crack it. “I think we knew that.”

Fitz freezes as the words flow through him. “You- what? Was I that much of a jerk?”

“Oh, she doesn’t know,” Biana corrects, working her deft fingers through her hair as she braids it back into a twisted bun. “You should let her know, kindly. But how could you have, honestly, with Keefe around.”

“I- I don’t know what you mean,” Fitz stutters, looking at her in the mirror with furrowed eyebrows. “Keefe’s my…friend.” Hardly. Was that really the message he sent to him earlier?

His sister’s hands drop from her hair as she spins to look him straight in the eyes. “Friends don’t use kisses as currency, Fitz.”

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“If you come, I’ll kiss you.”

Fitz raised an eyebrow, making no move to get up from his arm chair. “And if I don’t?”

“I’ll never kiss you again!” Keefe decided, sitting on the chair’s arm. “It would be a shame though, I thought you said it was fun.”

“You’re seriously giving me an ultimatum about this?” Fitz questioned, dropping his book into his lap. Keefe nodded shamelessly, and the elder couldn’t help the smile growing on his face.

“It’s just a party, Fitz,” he pleaded, slipping down from the couch arm and landing next to Fitz. “We finished level 3, we deserve to celebrate a little.”

“We can leave after two hours if you get bored,” he added softly, studying the elder’s eyes. “I just wanted to go for a little bit. And I wanted to go with you.”

Fitz pretended to think for a moment, watching Keefe look up at him, wide-eyed and waiting patiently. Three years later, Fitz isn’t be able to remember the last time Keefe looked at him like that. He just misses it.

“I mean, a kiss?” he said after a moment, scrunching his nose. “You drive a hard bargain. How could I say no?”

Fitz doesn’t miss parties. He doesn’t miss the fake smiles and empty greetings, nor does he miss the noise and the lights and the small flaring headache afterwords. He does, however, miss Keefe.

Surprisingly for such a usually shy person, parties were Keefe’s scene. It was like all his introverted qualities flew out the window once he was in, and in contrast to Fitz, he loved the lights and the music. In the end, Fitz grew to like seeing the younger surrounded by it all.

Keefe also used parties as an even better excuse to flirt with anything that breathes. And more often than not, that ended up being Fitz. Not that he’d ever complain.

“Do you want to leave?” Keefe whispered quietly, leaving the crowd towards where Fitz sat blissfully alone. His hair was messier than when they’d arrived, like someone had run their hands through them, and Fitz’s jaw almost clenched until he remembered that no matter how confident Keefe got under bright lights and crowds, he wouldn’t let people get that close. Well, not anyone but him, of course.

“No I’m fine, go dance,” he waved off, sipping his lushberry juice. Keefe pouted instead.

“I want to dance with you,” he complained softly, tugging at the elder’s arms to get him off the chair.

“I don’t dance,” Fitz reminded, but his words didn’t match his actions as he put the glass down next to him and let Keefe pull him off the chair with a joyful smile. 

The younger pulled him close, his lips almost brushing against Fitz’s ear as he whispered, “Thank you,” and Fitz would’ve kissed him again right there. Alas, there were people around, and he didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea. 

He’d also rather not have his second kiss have a crowd. Everything was sweeter in secret, wasn’t it?

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It was. It had to be. It was the same mantra Keefe had been repeating in his head that whole summer. 

There was a reason they weren’t telling anyone. And it wasn’t because they were doing anything wrong. It was just a fun little joke. They tried it once, it felt nice, so they did it again. And again.

It was simple. It was a normal thing to do. No one would say otherwise if they knew. But…they didn’t really need to know either. Best not confuse them.

Keefe was confused enough already.

Fitz was growing taller. He had a few inches on Keefe already, and the younger despised it. Maybe he would’ve hated it less if the other didn’t constantly lord it over him, standing just close enough so Keefe had to tilt his head up to see him, resting his arm around Keefe’s shoulders like it belonged there. They’d been the same height since forever, and Keefe was not going to let himself go down like this.

Especially not considering the way his heart rate sped up when Fitz was leaning over him. He couldn’t let the elder hold that power against him, and he couldn’t let him know. So he took a deep breath and stayed calm when Fitz pushed him into a tree halfway through his tangent about how cool Alvar was.

“Well, that was rude,” Keefe huffed, trying not to shy away from the elder’s bright teal eyes as they stared down at him. “I was talking.”

“I don’t want to talk about Alvar,” Fitz responded, as if it was an excuse. His hand didn’t move from where it was pinned above Keefe’s shoulder.

“You know Fitz, there’s this thing called communication, where you use your words-”

The elder cut him off by layering his lips over Keefe’s in a sweet, chaste kiss that still left Keefe stunned and a little breathless when he pulled away. “I don’t really want to do that either.”

Keefe rolled his eyes, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah I can see that.” But he didn’t stop him from kissing him again.

Kissing Fitz was a pleasant thing when it didn’t leave Keefe spiraling down a hole of Why do you care so much? It was easy not to think, with Fitz’s lips on his, about his father, or his mentors, or any of the small things plauging his life when they pulled away. Kissing Fitz made it feel like he’d never have to go home, like this was his home, and he’d never have to leave. He never wanted to leave.

But those were the same thoughts that kept him up all night that whole summer, as relieving as they were in the moment. Fitz had always felt more like home than anything Keefe had ever called home his entire life. And if he was honest, he never wanted that to change. He never wanted them to change.

He never wanted whatever this was that they were doing to change. He didn’t like the thought of Fitz doing this with anyone else, being this comfortable with anyone else, or sharing his space this much with anyone else, but he had to face that that was the reality. Someday, Fitz would go marry some girl, and all of this, all these remenants of them would be left behind in the past. But Keefe didn’t want to think about all that. He just wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

Now, Keefe wishes it had lasted a little longer. But then they were in Level 4, and Fitz finally found Sophie, and their lives began to change so rapidly that Keefe just felt like he was along for the ride as everything he’d ever known turned upside-down and faded away. 

Maybe Keefe had known back then too, that it wouldn’t last long, and that that day would have their last kiss, because when he’d pulled away, he’d asked, “You won’t forget me, right?”

Fitz had raised an eyebrow. “What? Where did that come from?”

“Nowhere, just-” Keefe looked back down at the ground as he caught his breath and sorted through his thoughts. “You won’t, right? Ever?”

The elder was only silent for a moment before he admitted, “Keefe, I couldn’t forget you if I tried.”

He was charming, Keefe would give him that. And it made him feel like a shy and red-cheeked kid all over again. 

Sitting in his room years later, with the blush faded and rose-colored glasses lost, Keefe wonders if mememories like those haunted Fitz now, as he tries his hardest to forget him. If those promises meant nothing, and now both of them are nothing, it’s honestly better that they hadn’t told anyone. Looking back, they probably wouldn’t have understood anyways.

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“Just because you didn’t tell me doesn’t mean I never knew,” Biana continued on, ignoring Fitz’s frozen stare. 

“But…how-”

“I’m your sister Fitz. And you kissed outside my bedroom once,” she admits, turning back to the mirror. "My point being, friends don’t do that.”

“Just because yours don’t-” Fitz cuts himself off as Biana gives him a sharp look in the mirror.

“You hear how ridiculous you sound, don’t you? There’s no point.” She continues pinning up her hair as she adds, “You love him."

Fitz gulps, watching himself go pale in the mirror. “That’s a strong word.”

“Yeah, and the right one," she agrees. "You’ve loved him since we were little kids, and you still do."

“You’re not an empath-" Fitz starts to argue, but Biana doesn’t want to hear it.

"I don’t have to be. I’m your sister," she reminds quaintly. "But he is an empath."

Fitz bites his lip subconsciously, going over the implication. "You think he knows?"

"No. I don't think he ever understood what your emotions meant, and he probably still doesn’t," she admits, looking through the products in front of her. "Especially not with you asking for the jersey back. Honestly, Fitz, what was that?"

"I just wanted all of this to be over," he answers shamefully, looking down at the floor so Biana's eyes in the mirror won’t rip him to pieces.

She slides over next to him, leaning against the wall as well. Her voice is the calmest thing wafting through his head when she speaks. "This is never going to be over unless you face your fears and try to figure out what you actually mean to each other."

It’s easy in theory. But the thought of actually acting on it is giving Fitz a massive headache. “How do I do that?”

“You think, Fitz. It’s a foreign concept, I know,” Biana chuckles, nudging him in the side to make him look at her. “Just sort through your memories. You have millions, we’ve been friends since he was 7. There has to be answer in there somewhere, even if its from when you were little.”

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Keefe always considered himself a strong eight-year-old. He held his own even when his father battered him down, and he dusted it off with a sigh and moved on. No one helped, definitely not his mom, but that was okay. Keefe could handle it.

He was sure of that. He really could handle it, he had so many times before, watching his father tear up his doodles and drawings, scold him for his childish acts when in the back of his head he couldn’t help wonder, Am I not still a child?  but was too terrified to ask. He would draw more. They would get ripped up again. It was a fine, easy cycle.

He practically lived with the Vackers, regardless of how much his father nagged at him. It was the one thing Keefe liked that he supported.  Keefe didn’t know why, but he learned early on not to question the good things. Fitz and Biana were a safe space, and he would take that gladly. Being at Everglen practically erased whatever distressing moment had taken place right before, and it was easy to laugh, move on, and play bramble without a second thought. It always was.

So why wasn’t it today?

Maybe it was because the drawing was a special one. Him and Fitz, sitting by the edge of the lake, small feet swinging over the water and wind brushing through their hair. He hadn’t even gotten to finish coloring it yellow and brown before his father had snatched it up without a second thought and shredded to pieces without even looking at it. He wouldn’t dare encourage any sort of  foolishness.

The drawing stayed pinned in the back of his mind though, he had his photographic memory to thank for that, and he couldn’t help but feel the slightest remorse as he thought about it, even in Fitz’s room, far away from the man who’d ruined it all in the first place. It was a pretty drawing. It would’ve looked even better finished.

Fitz might have liked it.

Keefe didn’t notice the tears dripping down his cheeks until Fitz made a surprised noise, sitting in front of him with concern etched between his brows, looking far too mature for a nine-year-old.

“Oh,” Keefe realized, wiping his cheek with small hands. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Fitz responded, teal eyes peeled open wide as he watched him. “Are you upset?”

“Only a little. It’s not a big deal,” Keefe tried to wave off. But Fitz, even at this young of an age, was always a gentlemen, and waited silently and encouragingly for Keefe to explain further.

“It’s just…my dad tore apart a drawing I made,” he elaborated, eyes steaming as the tears started coming down faster. He wiped his hands against his cheek more furiously. “I didn’t even get to finish it.”

“Why would your dad do that?” Fitz asked catiously, tilting his head with the curiousty of a young kitten.

Keefe wonders how, even at eight years old, he’d known that Fitz was a Vacker, and because of that he’d never truly understand. “He doesn’t like it when I draw.”

Fitz was silent then, and Keefe was too busy trying to stop his crying to realize, but suddenly small arms were pulling him into a warm embrace and the tear gates flooded, making him give up. “I think it’s really cool that you can draw.”

The younger tried to choke out a thank you, but the tears were choking him and he couldn’t do anything but cry into his friend’s shoulder, letting him hold him and save him from everything that waited outside of his arms, in this room, and back at home. None of it mattered if he had this, anyways. His parents didn’t matter, if there was still someone willing to hold him together. And of course that someone was Fitz.

And of course he’d ask, like always, “Want a blitzenberry muffin?”

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“Make me blitzenberry muffins.”

“Is that an order?” Fitz questioned, his eyebrow raising as he continued folding his tunics.

Keefe sighed dramatically, throwing himself across the elder’s bed and distracting him. “Can it be? I’m so sick of these books and I need something to bring my dampened spirits up.”

“Dampened spirits, wow, you’re a poet, Keefe,” Fitz applauded, sitting down next to him. The empath flipped his head up towards him, blonde splashing against the green sheets. “What do you even read about? Isn’t empathy kind of straight forward?”

“Not really. Just because I can feel what you’re feeling doesn’t mean I know what it is. For instance-” Keefe laced his hand through Fitz’s, startling him. “Something creepy crawly is going on in your stomach right now, but you’re head’s kinda fuzzy. I think that’s happiness?”

Fitz stopped himself from blushing. “I think so too.” Keefe grinned.

“See, it’s not like the words just come flying at me. People feel emotions differently, which makes it harder to decipher what someone else is feeling. Some emotions are easy, but others, not so much.” He sat up, keeping their hands intertwined. Fitz tried not to stare. “All those books are just theory, trying to teach you certain tells so you can guess emotions more easily. And then like…philosophy or whatever.” 

“Sounds atrociously boring,” the elder commented, tearing his eyes away from their hands and getting lost in the sharp blue of Keefe’s eyes instead. 

He didn’t seem to notice, huffing. “It is. That’s why I want muffins.”

“Valid.” Fitz stood up, yanking the younger along with him towards his room door. “Do you know where the kitchens around here are?”

“Calla showed me one the other day when you were staring into Sophie’s eyes or whatever,” Keefe grumbled. Fitz wonders if it was jealousy, or maybe that was just his wishful thinking. Just because he’s reinspecting their story didn’t mean he can add in details about Keefe that were never really there.

But the tightening grip on his hand was there, ever present, and Fitz hopes that Keefe didn’t notice his heart rate spike right then and there. Had he been that obvious all along? With an empath no less.

Keefe pulled him out of the treehouse and ran down the steps, pulling along Fitz just like he would when they were in Everglen, young and blissfully unaware of how dangerous the world really was. The worst problem at the time must have been Keefe’s parents.

In a bitter, unsurprising way, Fitz remembered they still were.

“There we are, the splendid gnomish kitchens,” Keefe presented with a flourish, cheeky smile flitting across his face as he walked over to the pantry. It was a kitchen alright, but everything was draped in browns and greens, giving the area a  very much earthy vibe to it. Fitz loved it immediatley.

Blitzenberry muffins were routine, and soon enough the batter was being mixed together in a bowl with Keefe sitting on the counter, licking the finger he’d just dipped in without permission and Fitz shaking his head with a smile, always unable to put on a stern face at the younger’s antics. They made him feel rather normal, anyways. Like they weren’t teenage runaways or rebels or anything of the sort.

Keefe stared off into the distance as his finger left his mouth, and Fitz stared at him, watching his eyes glaze and something hard to decipher appear in them. It wasn’t the first time. Something about Keefe had been off lately, like he’d been thinking too much. There was enough to think about anyways, with his mom captured by ogres and his dad waiting back home. Even the pendant around his neck was enough to send him spiraling. 

It was silent for a little too long, and Keefe’s eyes were getting a little too glassy, making the elder feel the need to interupt. “Are you okay-” Fitz started, then a tuft of white blurred his vision like a bakery-smelling blizzard. He coughed, daring to open his eyes wide to a sheepish looking Keefe with flour-stained hands. 

“Sorry.” He didn’t look sorry at all. “Intrusive thoughts.”

Fitz smiled right back, acutely aware of how ridiculous he must have looked as he slowly raised a large handful of flour from behind Keefe using telekineses, then promptly dropped it on his head. “Sorry. Intrusive thoughts.”

Keefe wiped his eyes in disbelief. “Don’t start with me.”

“You’re the one who started it!”

The younger didn’t seem to hear as more flour flew through the air, soon beginning to cover the entire kitchen in white. They ducked and hid behind the counter, laughed loudly like no one could hear them, smiled so hard their cheeks hurt from the motion. Fitz misses the feeling, misses being the cause of Keefe’s ectastic smiles instead of his nervous frowns. He misses the freedom, the moments they shared like this where there wasn’t a single other person in the world but each other, not another pair of eyes he’d ever care to look into. There wasn’t anything to see.

He misses Keefe. And his hair and his smirk and everything he’d been working hard to ignore and weave into their history just to leave them there, where they belong. But how could they belong there if Biana was right?

How could he forget about Keefe when he’d known him since they were kids?

“You’re my best friend,” Fitz spoke, breathless watching the white powder float down in the air around them like snow, like the winters they’d spent as children by the lake with ice skating and never ending adventure. Keefe was his best friend then too. Hadn’t he always been?

Hadn’t he always loved him?

“Yeah. Obviously.” Keefe smiled, shaking the flour out of his hair in Fitz’s direction, but the action was boyish enough to make his foolish heart long for a past they couldn’t reach back into. At least they had moments like this. 

Not forever though.

“Nothing’s going to change, not for me and you,” Keefe added, smile softening and making the other’s heart melt right out of his ribcage.

Fitz wishes he hadn’t lied.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Leaping to Everglen is something Keefe is used to, but leaping straight onto the property will never fail to catch him off guard now that the gates have been taken away. Just another testament to how much has changed. 

The way to Fitz’s room didn’t, however, so Keefe’s steps are a trail he’d walked many times before, straight down to the same door he had spent so much his childhood hidden behind. The jersey in his hands weighs more than it should, like instead of just giving back a piece of cloth, he’s about to hand over their past and everything they’d ever known. His place behind that door. 

Or maybe he’s just overthinking it. Maybe he’s spent the whole day overthinking it, like the dramatic little boy he is. Things change, Keefe, the voice in his head reminds. You have to too.

He takes a deep breath, steels his face, and knocks before he can back out and leave it in Biana’s room with a note like a loser.

“Come in.” Keefe does.

The room is dark. His eyes take a moment to adjust before he notices Fitz buried underneath the blankets of his bed, staring blankly at the dark ceiling. Teal eyes lift themselves up to catch his. “Oh.”

It isn;t a bad oh, but it certainly not a good one either, and Keefe finds himself wanting to leave even faster than he came. “I found the jersey, I just thought I’d drop it o-”

“No, keep it,” Fitz decides, pushing himself up to a sitting position so he’s leaning against his pillows. 

Keefe blinks in confusion. “What?”

“Keep the jersey, I don’t want it back,” he repeats, but Keefe still doesn’t understand. That isn’t what he had said that morning. All he said was that he wanted it returned!

“But you-”

“I was wrong,” Fitz shruggs. The younger can’t see him too clearly in the dark but if he’sstill wearing his nonchalant perfect Vacker smile, Keefe’s going to have a meltdown.

Or maybe he is regardless. “What do you want from me?”

Fitz might frown, Keefe can’t tell, but he sounds startled when he responds. “What do you mean?”

“I try to go and apologize to you for everything, and you don’t even let me start before you’re asking for the jersey back, and now you don’t want it anymore?!” Keefe catches his breath, eyes burning. “What were you wrong about? I wouldn’t want to be around me either.”

“I never said tha-”

“You didn’t have to.” Keefe drops the jersey to the ground, trying to keep the tears from falling out of his eyes. “I can’t even pretend to know what’s going on in your head anymore, Fitz, but that’s exactly what you wanted. And I can’t blame you, I’ve screwed this up two more times than I should have.”

“I missed you. Both times, but especially this last one. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I left and…” Keefe shakes his head, sighing under his breath. He’d practiced this more than enough times before today but here he is, and the words have run off once more, leaving his mouth dry. “I didn’t mean it like that. I would do so many things for you, Fitz, but I couldn’t stay. And I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry I can’t be someone you still want.”

“Keefe that’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.” A record player scratches in Keefe’s mind, prompting him to look up again. Fitz is climbing out of his bed as he speaks. “Of course I still want you. I spent so much time missing you, and convincing myself you would be okay, and that all of this would be okay that I didn’t even stop to notice that it wasn’t. I don’t want the jersey back, because I want it to be with you. I want you to have the memories-”

“I don’t want memories,” he interrupts. Fitz stops right in front of him, looking down at his eyes and making Keefe gulp. That godforsaken height difference will never go away, will it? “I… That summer, I don’t know if I was imagining it but-”

Fitz grabs his hand and suddenly Keefe is hit with purple butterflies and crimson vines wrapping their way around his chest tight enough to suffocate him. “You’re not imagining anything.”

If those are Fitz’s emotions he’s feeling, and if he’s looking into his eyes like that, and if he’d meant it all back then, then maybe there isn’t much to make excuses for anymore when he leans in.

Keefe had missed it, the feeling of Fitz so close, his emotions flowing through the younger’s veins, so much stronger now, so much more desperate. Like they’d been starved for too long. Even the stupid bend in his neck when Fitz tilts his head up with a hand on his chin is nostalgic in a way.

It’s still dark, but that doesn’t stop Fitz’s eyes from twinkling when they separate, noses so close they were touching. Keefe could feel his breath hit his cheek as he whispered, tracing a finger along his cheekbones. “It’s always been you.”

[sacchiri]

Hellsing 2002 calendar illustration.

Ein wunderliche und erschröckliche Hystori von einem großen Wüttrich genant Dracole wayda Der do so ganz unkristenliche marrter hat angelegt die mensche, als mit spissen als auch die leut zu Tod geslyffen

A wondrous and frightening story about a great berserk called Dracula the voivode who inflicted such unchristian tortures such as with stakes and also dragged people to death

[mosaickiwi]

All Clean!!!

How dare Sai deprive me of this tbh /j /silly

a lil itty bit angsty on angel's part… i meant to write it completely goofy oops

cw// mild nudity (but not for sexy reasons), blood, implied offscreen murder(s)

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

“Should I be concerned?” you finally blurted out, curious about whatever had caused the sight before you. 

[REDACTED] sat completely relaxed on the edge of the tub, splatters of blood mixed with dirt and rain water over their face and torso. Under the scarlet streaks and smears, his skin was flushed as if he’d been running a long time. He was stripped to his boxers, and the clothes they’d come home in were being tossed around in the washing machine while you took care of him. 

“Not at all,” he quickly answered your question with a nonchalant shake of his head, then muttered an apology. “Didn't mean t’wake you up.”

It was strange that he was more worried about your sleep than the fact that he came home covered in bloodstains, but you knew exactly what to expect from them by now. The only sound in the room was the cloth in your hands loudly dripping into a bowl of soapy water as you rung it out to clean them up.

You’d heard noises in the middle of the night, and peered out of the bedroom to find your boyfriend halfway down his apartment’s dimly lit hall, making a mess of the marble floor with their clothes soaked from the rainstorm. Except the little puddles of what should've been water were slightly stained red, leaving a haunting trail in his wake as he’d staggered towards the bathroom. 

The apathy in their blue eyes disappeared the moment you called their name, a puppylike smile forming on his lips that was at odds with his ghastly appearance as he turned, fully intent on hugging you, then struggled to stop himself once they realized they’d get dirt and blood all over you if he tried. You would’ve laughed if you weren't still half asleep.

And if the hallway didn’t look like a crime scene all its own.

You brushed their dark bangs back and wiped at the liquid on their forehead and cheeks, gently scolding them. “Don’t apologize for that. I’d rather miss out on sleep and make sure you're okay instead of wondering if…” It hurt to even think the words.

He took hold of your hand, the cloth trembling against his skin from your fears. “‘M sorry for worrying you, love. I promise it’s not my blood,” they said in the hopes you’d calm down. Weirdly enough, it did make you feel better.

Though he never flat out admitted to it, he wasn’t really trying to hide the things they did from you anymore, only the brutality of it all. From the dozen or so times you came home to an empty apartment after a text not to wait for him, just to vaguely recognize a missing person on the TV a few days later, it was obvious without confirmation. This was the first time you’d “caught” them, though—and with actual physical evidence. He usually came home silent and squeaky clean.

“It better not be,” you halfheartedly joked to ease the tension. He smiled and let go of your hand so you could continue your work.

The cleanup went by quickly. Dipping the cloth into the bowl of soapy water and wringing it out one last time, you reached towards your hacker’s bare shoulders. The blood there was mostly gone—save for a streak just below their collarbone. It wiped away all too easily, but a tiny line of dots flowered forth from a small injury you hadn't noticed at all.

“So about this not being your blood,” you started, setting the cloth down in the bowl.

He must not have noticed it either, but recognition dawned on their face. “I did have a tree problem earlier.”

“A tree problem?” Your earlier worries were quickly pushed aside at the revelation.

“Yeah, a branch got stuck—” he suddenly paused. The pink in his already flushed cheeks deepened. Their eyes shifted to the side in embarrassment. “Never mind.”

You struggled not to laugh. Of all things to phase him about his night out, a tree branch? The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to tease them. But you held your tongue and quickly grabbed some ointment and a bandage from a nearby cabinet.

[REDACTED] didn't even flinch when you pressed a dab of ointment to the reddened scratches. His expression seemed to melt instead. You asked carefully, “It doesn’t hurt does it?”

Their gaze went blank and wide eyed for a split second, then a twinge of fake sadness oozed into his voice. “‘Hurts a lot, Angel. Be gentle with me and kiss it better?” He even pouted to sell the act.

“Of course.” You playfully rolled your eyes and applied more ointment. As you spread it over the scrapes, he resumed adoringly looking up at you until you finished. Satisfied with your work, you smoothed the bandage over his skin and loudly planted a kiss to the spot then stood up.

“Y’know…” he hummed while wrapping a tattooed arm around your waist with a devious smile. “My mouth hurts too. ‘Could use a kiss or four there, don't y'think?”

With a smile, you leaned down, grabbing both their cheeks as if to kiss them. His eyes glittered in anticipation as you came closer. Instead, you stopped millimeters from their lips and whispered in the sultriest voice you could muster, “I’m gonna go mop the hallway.”

[nijisanji-brain-rot-fics]

luxiem x reader || halloween !! day one | part one

a/n : day one of a bunch of halloween themed stuff for october!! i would do kinktober but like........ no. [wwww] ANYWAYS THESE ARE JUST GONNA BE WHOLESOME AND STUFF [in a way ig] ill be trying to write fics instead of hcs, BUT THEY MIGHT BE NOVEL STYLE IDK DEPENDS ON MY WRITERS BLOCK

btw im posting day one in two chunks over day 1-2 because ITS TOO LONG FOR MY LIKING IF I PUT EVERYONE IN ONE SINGLE POST

anyways enjoyy lmao

SHU YAMINO

halloween? he loves halloween!!

ironically dresses up as a witch for the fun of it

he would definitely ask you to match costumes with him, even just for fun ~

he'd just have an 'innocent' smile on his face while trying to get you to wear a costume

he loves it when you play hard to get about dressing up with him

"Baby, please?" He pleaded, pouting a bit as he watched you from the other side of the table counter.

"No way! It'd be so embarrassing..." You replied, crossing your arms with a stubborn huff, though your demeanour suggested that you weren't completely opposed to his idea.

"Awww, please? It's just the two of us. I'll be the only one to see you in that pretty costume~" Shu chuckled, leaning on his elbows as he moved on the chair. He's been asking for the last thirty minutes. You should just give in now, right?

"It's too embarrassing to wear... I'd look!-" You protested before he made small shushing sounds.

"-You'd look adorable, babe." He said with a comforting smile. You fully knew that he'd be fine if you didn't wear it; he wasn't going to force anything. But that stupid smile made you forget about what he might think of you.

"Ugh... Fine." You mumble, snatching the bag with the clothes from the chair beside him before going into your bedroom. He waited patiently, a slight blush on his face as he thought of what you'd look like in it. Once you appeared in his sight again, a bright smile spread on his face while you pouted with pink cheeks. Of course... He bought you a black cat onesie. You should've known... With all the times he's dressed up as a witch jokingly on halloween, you should've realised by now that he would want to make you his little kitty.

"See? What'd I tell you? Adorable." He mused, pulling you into a warm hug.

[hitomisuzuya]

Tighnari x fem!reader. Comfort Smut. Accidental use of an aphrodisiac. Abandonment issues mentioned. Some footnotes at the end.

a/n: Did you all think I was going to choose Scara? Nope 😋 I choose Tighnari. I have quite a few people who encourage to write for myself. So here I am. I hope you all enjoy as well. Please know every word I type is making me feel better. I hope it makes anyone reading this feel better to if they are down. I used one of my beloved @kichikichiko 's suggestions.

You'd been acting very peculiar for about a week now. Tighnari was worried. He eventually started making notes of your distant behavior in an attempt to puzzle out what was wrong. He could smell that something was going on.

*You looked tired as you sat with him in his hut, drawing a picture of creature called a dinosaur from a novel that was dog eared and thoroughly read multiple times.

Tighnari grabbed a bottle of something and offered it to you. "Here..this should help relax you to sleep since you haven't slept for days," he said quietly, setting the bottle down in front of you.

You smiled at him in appreciation, sipping it as you drew. No response however. Tighnari's ears drooped a little. He wished you would tell him what was wrong.

*He sat with you, murmuring quiet compliments about your drawing of the dinosaur. Your favorite was the one with the long talon claw on it's on the middle toes. He'd listened many times when you gushed about the Velociraptors from the novel.

Tighnari's ears pricked when you dropped your pencil suddenly. Your cheeks were getting flushed and he could hear your heart beat speeding up. He could feel some changing in himself as well.

When his eyes darted to the empty bottle on the table, they suddenly widened. "Oh no!" He exclaimed.

Tighnari had made a very VERY rare mistake. He really should've labelled the bottle properly. It was something he was developing for the mating season for fennec foxes. When the female drank it from a water source, the males would be able to smell it.

And now he'd accidentally given it to you instead of a very mild sedative.

He quickly put his hands on your cheeks, making you look at him. "'Nari, please.." you said, panting quietly.

And then it clicked. Your eyes may have been filled with lust, but there was something else there. Buried behind it was a hint of sadness. "Are you serious?" He said, nuzzling your forehead, "why would ever think I would abandon you? You are my mate."

"'Nari.." Was all you could manage to say. His kisses were deep and open mouthed as Tighnari let himself get swept by his lust for you.

Clothes were removed hastily and before you knew it, you were laying on your back beneath Tighnari. "I would never leave you," he whispered, peppering your neck and chest with love bites that would bruise the next morning. He didn't want it any other way. If marking you like this would reassure you, then he would do it all night.

The way you were moaning while he sucked and bit your skin was starting to make him feel frenzied and feral. Rubbing your clit, he plunged two fingers inside of your cunt, shivering when he felt how wet you were. "I'm sorry, my love, I have to prepare you quickly. You smell so good.."

You grasped in pleasure when his fingers found your sweet spot. You spread your legs, locking them in place around his hips. "Please, just fuck me now, 'Nari. I can't stand it anymore.." you pleaded.

You felt dizzy with lust, the aphrodisiac had made you so sensitive. You tugged on his ears, making him whimper, turning his head slightly into your hand, nuzzling it. His ears had always been sensitive, especially so when he was intimate with you.

"Archons, I'm so lucky to have you," Tighnari said, thrusting his cock inside of you. "You aren't even mad that messed up tonight."

"I love you, Tighnari," you moaned, feeling your orgasm building like a furious storm in your core.

Tighnari's cum spilled into you, making his cock squelch in and out of your pussy. Your fingernails dug into his shoulder blades, making his pace speed up. He was determined to help you reach your climax.

"I hope you don't mind, but it's going to take awhile for the aphrodisiac to wear off," Tighnari said between his own pants and moans, feeling your walls begin to clench around his cock. "We going to have to have multiple rounds." His kiss on your lips was gentle.

"Shut up and make me cum again, ',Nari," you said playfully.

Tighnari chuckled. He really loves you a lot.

*I'm referring to Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton. I'm a die hard Jurassic Park/Jurassic World fan. The Velociraptors are very favorite 🥰 Thank you for reading. I feel much better, but my responses to asks may be sporadic and slow tonight. Bear with me, please.

[ultfreakme]

Nia, Jay, Jon and the 'Last Straw': Quick Analysis

So Absolute Power #2 dropped, and we get to see Nia(Dreamer) rebel fully against Waller regardless of the consequences to herself or her family. Her breaking point is watching a brainwashed and tortured Jon being forced to attack his father.

This is great! This has been a long-time coming for Nia. But this isn't a moment of triumph per se for her. This is not the first time she's seen a friend of hers suffer because she couldn't break away from Waller. Her first time witnessing something like this was with Jay.

Jay got hurt, she lets it happen, she explicitly betrays Jay and admits to her complicity in Gamorra's takeover by Waller, and in his mother's death.

Jon also got hurt, she seems to have let it happen, she's once again aware of her role in this and was about to be indirectly responsible for Jon's father dying.

But why was Jon her breaking point, but not Jay? What was the difference?

This was her reaction to seeing Jon hurt:

But this was her reaction to Jay being hurt

Nia's been put into a terrible situation where she has to choose between her friends and her family. I am not saying she should've let her family die for Jay, but in terms of scale, Jay kind nailed it on the head with Nia prioritizing certain kinds of people over others. She is not intentionally doing this, but this is a thing she does and the theme is brought up in Bad Dream(the Nia Graphic Novel). Her mother and other Naltorians prioritized Naltorians over Cyandiis which led to the large-scale destruction of Cyandii.

Nia has now chosen her people (her family and Parthas), over Gamorra. She continues to choose her people (the hero community), over anything else. No matter how you spin it, Gamorran lives and Jay's imprisonment was not enough of a personal affectation for her to go "no fuck this."

WHICH IS BAD.

Because yes she did the right thing as a hero but the mentality that led to Dream Team's end and Gamorra's takeover is still very much present. This is really good character writing to me, because unlike say Jon or Jay or any of the other heroes, Nia became Dreamer in an effort to connect with her past and the trauma of her mother's death. She wanted to be a hero, but her priorities were in understanding her newfound powers.

She had no guidance, she did not witness the kinds of decisions a hero will have to take. Superman isn't always winning because he's just objectively powerful, he's Superman because he's selfless (to the detriment of his loved ones at times). It's a hard job, you have to put aside your very normal attachments and be willing to sacrifice. It's why not everyone is cut out to be a hero, it's a HUGE ask to say someone should go "yeah I'll give up my family if it means saving the planet". Practically at every turn, a superhero runs into the trolley problem. Many time, they can save both, but there are times when they have to pick and choose, and hope to god that things will work out well.

Nia made a typical hero decision in AP #2, a decision many a hero has to make when she chose to sacrifice her family and herself, to stop working for Waller.

But will she examine why Jon and Clark were her breaking point, but not Jay and all of Gamorra? She's a hero, but is she falling into the old Naltorian cycle?

Additionally, I don't think Jon is going to be particularly pleased to know that Nia stopped because she saw Jon, but not when she just stood there and let Jay get shot. That is, after all, his boyfriend whom he saved Gamorra with. Like Nia wrecked everything about Jay, and also ruined Jon's first mission as Superman and wasted all his efforts and turmoils. Jon is the type to let himself take the brunt of everything because of his fear of himself- he saw the things Clark put them through. If say, Waller got Jon instead of Nia with the "I'll kill your family if you don't obey" thing, he'd have immediately gone "no, they wouldn't want that, in fact they'd be disappointed if I picked them over a whole country". Jon's already got that hero mentality, and frankly so does Jay (he had no idea of Sara was alive, but he did not search for her because he knew to prioritize at great personal cost. He was even willing to let himself die when fighting Sara).

Like, this just makes Nia even more unforgivable in Jay's eyes because Jon-Jay-Nia were all friends for the same amount of time, they SHOULD hold the same value to each other. But now it looks like Nia has a ranking order.

This is not Nia hate please PLEASE don't take this as Nia hate. She's just.....so utterly human here. Like this is what would happen if a regular person with no support tried to be a hero. Her actions are understandable, but that doesn't mean other characters need to forgive her for it when her learning curve led to so much pain for others.

[riisume]

Dan Heng the Smiling (Honkai Star Rail)

Summary: March 7th has been trying everything in her power to get the guard of the Astral Express to smile... Except for one thing.

A/N: I haven't had time to draw tk art, so I figured I'd write a short fic about the idea that's been giving me brainworms! This is my first time writing for Honkai Stair Rail and I'm not too far into the game, so bear with me on this-

This is a tickle fic! If this isn't your cup of tea, turn back now. :^)

Word count: 945

"Ugh!" March groaned, seeming perhaps a bit too distraught for a trivial reason; "I feel like I've been trying everything and I haven't gotten you to smile once, Dan Heng! Jokes, funny faces, silly stories I've heard..." She was pacing back and forth around his room, running her fingers through her rosey hair in exasperation as she spoke to the man in question; Dan Heng.

Though, she may as well have been talking to a wall, as he wasn't responding. Instead, his attention was fixed on the pages of a novel that was more likely gotten from the shelves of the archives. Whether he was tuning the girl out or just choosing not to respond was unknown. Either was likely, especially since Dan Heng was particular about people not lingering around the room that he had claimed.

March, having noticed the lack of a response, whipped around to face the taller man who had his back turned to her. The girl's eyebrows furrowed as a pout began to set on her lips.

"Hey, are you listening? I've been working really hard, here...!" While she felt like she had been carrying the burdens of the entire Astral Express on her back trying to succeed in her endeavors, Dan Heng clearly thought otherwise as a light sigh resonated from him.

When March heard, her expression fell into one of surprise before looking particularly offended. With a whine, she began to pace over toward the reserved man.

"C'mon, you can at least give me a response...!" March reached out and began to poke Dan Heng's back to get his undivided attention. Though, to her surprise, what she received from him was a sharp jolt and an abrupt sputter. As she was hoping, Dan Heng's attention was on her as he peered over his shoulder in shock. The surprise almost reached the man's eyes.

March paused, her own eyes were wide and round with curiosity. Was Dan Heng... Ticklish? There was a long silence between the two, though the girl knew she had to test this theory.

"March, do-OHON'T-!" The man couldn't finish his warning before the young woman gave him a few more prods, this time on the small of his back, coaxing out a set of foreign noises; Giggles!

There was a mischievous twinkle in the girl's bright eyes and Dan Heng felt his skin begin to prickle as she began wiggling her fingers at him.

"Dan Heeeeeng~ I didn't know you were ticklish!" March's words were practically sung. She felt like she had made the discovery of the century!

In hopes to recover from this situation, the man's features rested back to their neutral position as he tried to calm himself, despite wanting to quiver at March's fingers merely wiggling at him.

"I'm not. You just caught me by surprise, is all." Dan Heng was convincing... Almost. March wasn't swayed by his act, she knew what she had heard and she was eager to hear more.

"Oh, really? So you toootally won't react if I do this~?" At that, the girl's hands lashed out, latching onto his sides before giving them a few, tender squeezes.

Relaxing was a mistake on Dan Heng's part. He should've foreseen this happening. Before he knew it, he was overtaken by yelps and uncontrollable laughter.

"AAH! M-Mahaharch! AHAH-!" The stoic, composed man's laughter was nearly music to March 7th's ears! It was almost like hearing a new song and you didn't know how you've lived life without it all this time. "C-cuhuhut it ohout! CUT IT OHOUT!" Dan Heng turned around to try and stop the shorter assailant's tickly attack on his sides, though March was quick to recover. She slipped her hands underneath his long coat, her nimble fingers wedging themselves under his arms to feverishly scribble and dig at the hollows of his armpits.

As much as Dan Heng attempted to writhe and wiggle away, March kept herself fixed on him. She couldn't help but giggle along, taking in the new sight of the bright smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"I don't know why I didn't think of tickling you sooner!" She beamed, her fingers trailing down to dig into the divots between the other's ribs, causing him to practically howl with laughter. "I guess I never pegged you as the ticklish type. Oh, how wrong I was~"

"EHEHAHAH-! M-Maharch, PLEHEASE- D-dohonon't!"

Dan Heng felt his cheeks grow warm from this humiliating display. He felt his legs buckle from under him. He leaned back onto the shelves behind him for support, but he felt himself slowly slipping down to the floor. Much to his relief, March's fingers lost their hold on him, and before long, she was standing over him as he was lightly heaving for air to fill his lungs. The smile once forced on his features began to fall back into its impassive state. The Astral Express's guard couldn't help but glance up at her, his cheeks flushed a hue of pink from laughing so much.

March merely grinned down at him, pleased with herself.

"I guess all my work paid off, huh? Now, I can get you to smile and even laugh on a whim!" She giggled in amusement. At that, Dan Heng tore his gaze away from her. While he felt somewhat nervous from March's comment, he can't say he hated the experience... Maybe he wouldn't mind it again at some other point, so long as it wasn't a spectacle for the others working for the Astral Express to see.

Despite these thoughts, the man gave a final sigh with a shake of his head.

"Whatever." He replied flatly.

[mags-writes]

Sunlight || Part VI

Summary: frank gets his worldview changed

Series Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical swearing, first time writing x reader, no use of y/n, no beta readers we die like ray nadeem

Pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

Authors Note: a bit longer for the girlies. just a heads up as well, you might not hear from me for a while after I finish this series (apart from a oneshot that was requested idk) because I'm technically supposed to be writing an actual legit novel and I got writers block for that and just started doing this to get my creativity out of my head. so thank you to everyone who didn't send me nasty anons and for sticking it out this far. I'm honestly so surprised at the reaction especially considering that this is the first time writing in second perspective. enjoy!!

PROLOGUE/MASTERLIST || PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V || PART VI || PART VII

"So," You face Matt who had been looking like he wanted to say something to you since you started spouting Hebrew. "What's your part in all this?"

"If you helped your Daredevil," He took tentative steps to you. "Then I think you know the answer."

You sighed, stepping away from Frank's embrace and instead going into Matt's.

"I'm sorry." You mumbled into his chest, squeezing him tighter when he laid his head on top of yours. "I didn't know for sure until yesterday morning."

"No, don't be." He said, soothing a hand up and down on your back. "Even if you didn't know I should've told you from the start."

"It happened the same way, you know?" He pulled back and frowned at you. "I showed up at his apartment one morning, he was beaten to hell and back, and he tried to tell me he fell down the stairs."

"I'm going to assume you didn't take it well?" He said with a smile.

"I yelled at him so loudly his neighbour three floors up came over to ask us to shut up." You smiled at his chuckle, letting it stay before it fell slightly. "Everything that followed... I don't regret becoming his girl in the chair, helping him every night but... Matt, I was one of six kids." Matt felt his heart shatter. "And I know you heard everything yesterday, that I don't want to go back and I want you to know that, in a heartbeat, I would-"

"I know where you're going with this." Of course he did. Of course he knew. "No. If being part of Daredevil's life put you through god knows how many kidnappings, beatings, crucifixions, and dead brothers, then no. You're not doing it again for me."

"Okay," You shook your head. "Believe it or not, getting crucified was the least traumatic thing to happen that week. So, we're good on that base."

"Stop it." He was being serious and you couldn't help but smile. "Stop doing that."

"Doing what?" You challenged.

"You're trying to change my mind."

"No, I know what I'm going to do." You shrugged your shoulders. "Whether you like it or not, tonight, I'm the girl in the chair."

"With what setup?" He challenged.

You pointed to where Dinah, Amy, and Frank were still standing, listening in, and where your stuff still was. "What do ya think the suitcase is for?"

You walked over to your suitcase, wheeling it over to the table in the middle of the room, and laying it on the ground. Amy came to stand next to you as you squatted down to unzip the thing and then carefully pry it open.

"Ho-ly shit." Amy laughed, leaning down to get a better look.

The reason you hadn't been able to afford your own place and move out of Matt's was because of this. Three large monitors were carefully packed into one-half of the suitcase, each with their own stands and cables wrapped under them. The other half had a mouse, two keyboards, and a touchscreen tablet sitting in their own black, protective foam. You took all of this out, running a couple of cables to turn everything on with Amy's help, and left it to turn on.

Next, you moved to the backpack. Now that... the contents of that had everyone gaping if they weren't already before. Two handguns with their own holsters, a bowie knife with a sheath and thigh straps, and then lastly, a separate sack that clunked around when it hit the table.

"Uh, do you know how to use those?" Foggy asked concerned, frowning at the handguns.

"Yeah." You said like it was obvious. "Pull the trigger."

Amy's head snapped to Frank with a gaping smile, trying to stop herself from bursting out laughing at his expression. He was shocked, to say the least, and he was trying to stop himself from slowly moving the weapons out of reach of you.

You stood up, opening the sack, and tipping it upside down to reveal a partly disassembled assault rifle. Your hands moved faster than your mind, easily flipping around the parts before twisting or shoving them into place. Frank thought you looked angelic. A small frown of concentration creased in between your eyebrows and your lips pulled into a delicate pout. Time slowed. He felt like he was having an out-of-body experience and was only pulled back in when you slapped the bottom of the mag into place and pulled back the bolt carrier handle.

"I was the only girl out of six kids," You explained, flipping the safety on and putting it down with the rest of the weapons. "My oldest brother liked to wear heels out in public, the next one was chess champion every year he was in school and the one after that was six foot three and seventy pounds wet. If I wasn't out there beating the shit out of their bullies then no one would be. Now my younger brothers," You tilted your head with a smile. "Bless 'em. Their dumbasses got themselves into the military. No offense Frankie."

"None taken, darlin'." He replied, hanging off every word you spoke. You never spoke about your family and figured you had a rough relationship with them. He didn't realise it was this kind of rough.

"They came home and taught me how to handle firearms when I ended up in the hospital after a kidnapping. So, I can defend myself. Let's settle that." You gave every one of them except Frank a pointed look to make sure they understood. "My oldest brother was murdered by Kingpin for writing an exposing story about him for the newspaper, the chess champ was murdered by Bullseye for being in the wrong place at the wrong time and the next one went out in a hit-and-run courtesy of Bloody Mary."

"Jesus Christ." Karen mumbled.

"Brother after me, a week into active duty stepped on a landmine and took out three other people." Frank felt his heart break at the shakey breath you took in after saying that. You were clearly trying to come off as indifferent like you'd worked through it and it didn't affect you anymore but he saw your hands start to shake again. "My baby brother... while I was nailed to a cross, John Pilgrim hunted him down into an alleyway and beat him to death with a sledgehammer. Dad hung himself and Mom didn't leave the psych ward alive." You paused, looking out to nothing for a second before taking in another shaky breath. "The type of radio I use specifically for long-distance communications can be hacked and tracked, that's the price I pay for clear and crisp long-distance. When you leave and I'm left here to be the girl in the chair... If that happens... I am using these weapons. And I am not holding back. Do you understand me?"

You finally looked at Frank. Fear, defiance, and grief swirling in your eyes and he realised that while you directed the question to all of them, you were asking him. You were telling him that you were going to kill people tonight.

Other Matt never let you seek justice for your brothers. He held you while you cried and stood next to you during their funerals, every single one of them, but he always held you back when you got angry. Always the one holding back saying that if you crossed that line then there was no going back. Then someone tracked your signal one night, crawling through the window and holding a gun to your head. You don't even remember killing him, going into a blind rage and just letting loose.

Elektra found you. Cleaned you up, got rid of the body but left the mess. When other Matt came back after enough radio silence and saw what was left behind, Elektra took the blame. She had kept a close eye on you since.

Frank was the first to speak up. "Sounds good to me."

You nodded to him then looked directly at Matt.

"I don't like it." He said reluctantly.

"I'll go to church." You bartered.

"I'm fine with it." He folded immediately, giving a little shrug.

"What do we call you?" Amy asks, making everyone to turn her now instead. "They can't very well go through the streets calling you by your name. Or into earpieces that can be hacked. That's stupid. Frank's got Punisher. Murdock's got Daredevil. What about you?"

There's a pause where you smile at her.

"Call me Cypher." You answered, looking at Frank again and slyly winking. "I'll be your best-kept secret."

You soon found yourself in a chair that was bordering uncomfortable and listening in to Matt, John, Frank, and Dinah all communicating with one another as they made their way through New York in a van. Karen, Foggy, Amy, and Curtis, however, were staying with you. Curtis stayed back for extra protection with a gun and Amy was sitting next to you with her eyes glued to your screens.

The one to the left showed detailed city blueprint layouts that you had gathered when you got the setup, and it was synced with the middle screen that showed the most recent satellite images of the city. They moved and adjusted with the four dots that were the earpieces you gave to the group. The one on the right was for hacking security cameras around the city but for the life of you, you couldn't get it to sync up and stay with the other screens. Which is why you had to constantly keep up with it.

After some digging and hacking, you found out that John's sons were being held captive in a warehouse by a local gang. A stupid location but they chose it nonetheless. John told you that there was someone higher up paying them off to do this and that was why Dinah was involved so you know to be prepared in case they hacked your radio signal.

Curtis was sitting in front of you, behind your screens, watching the touchscreen tablet with rapt attention. Karen and Foggy were pacing nervously, like wild animals caught in a cage and you couldn't help but feel bad for them. You were in the middle of showing Amy how to manually keep the surveillance in sync with the other two screens when a notification from one of your programs popped up. You specifically made it to pick up when your earpieces were being tracked.

"What's that for?" Amy asked, pointing to it and turning to you.

"Uh..." You stutter for a second, making everyone look to you.

Quick as you can, you start getting up surveillance for around the building you were all in and you zero in on a van coming to a stop. Curtis stands up, going over to where he put his gun down and triple-checking that it was loaded.

"Cypher?" Amy grabs your arm, a stab of fear going through you both as you see armed men leaving the van.

"You three," You got Amy on her feet and pointed to Karen and Foggy to get their attention. "In the back room now."

When Amy ran off to grab the door you felt around your body for the weapons that Frank was insistent on helping strap to your body. One handgun at your hip, the bowie knife at the other, the other handgun under your arm, and the assault rifle on the table. When they were all behind the door and the lock clicked over, you gave Curtis a look and picked up the rifle, aiming it at the door.

"What's going on?" Frank's gruff voice sounded through your earpiece.

"We've got a problem here." Curtis said into the walkie-talkie you had to give him due to not having enough earpieces.

"We should be fine." You say confidently, turning the safety off. "I looked ahead and there's hardly anyone there. You're good to go in and get the boys."

"There's probably no one there because they sent them here!" Curtis hissed at you.

"What do you mean? How many are there?" Matt asked, sounding like he had stopped moving.

"Get the boys Matt." You ordered. "I'm going off coms, you don't need to hear this."

That was the last thing they heard from your earpiece before there was a beep signaling to all of them that it had been turned off. Frank cast a look at Dinah, allowing his worry to spill out into his expression just as they came up to the warehouse.

"She'll be fine Castle." She reassures him sternly, taking out her gun and turning off the safety. "She sounds like she's looking forward to it."

The whole time they were going through the warehouse to where they were keeping John's sons, Frank couldn't stop worrying. It affected him so much that Dinah saved his ass all of three times when his back was turned, making her huff and silently count each time on her fingers in his face. When they got the boys out and into Madani's van he tried to call you.

Eighteen times.

And you didn't pick up once.

When they made it back Frank put a hand to Matt's chest to stop him from coming with them.

"You should hang back." Frank said calmly like his own heart wasn't racing.

"I'm not too good with kids, Frank." He replied agitated and shifting from one foot to another.

"You're not too good with death either, Red." Frank retorted gruffly. "Hang back."

There was suddenly loud shouting that everyone immediately knew was coming from you, making Frank and Dinah start sprinting to the entrance. You sounded like a wild animal, yelling and growling echoing through the halls. They came up to the room that you and the rest of them were in, dead bodies lying on one another at the door and bullet holes in the walls. You were growling lowly now like you were putting in a tremendous amount of effort into something.

Dinah went around the corner first, going low onto one knee and her gun aimed at anything that moved while Frank stayed standing above her doing the same. Curtis was sitting on the ground panting with blood splatters on his face staring at you.

You were hunched over, straddling the chest of an armoured man and pressing down on his throat with all your might. You were covered in blood, your face streaked so badly it was a miracle that they could see your hard expression with a cut that went from your forehead, across your temple, and into your hairline. You were frowning angrily, teeth bared and breathing heavily, bloody hands shaking with the strength it took to choke the man. When he stopped moving, you pressed down just a little harder before releasing him and letting out a short yell from strain.

You lean back on your hunches, tilting your head back and revealing a traumatised Amy curled up watching with wide eyes. Your hands sit on your thighs, palms facing up and Frank realises that the reason they're so bloody is that they look like they've gone through the garbage disposal.

"Amy," You say, snapping Frank's attention back to your face, which was now looking at Amy. "Sweetie? Look at me."

"He-he-" Amy stuttered, trying to shake herself out of it.

"Look at me, baby, okay? Look at me." You crawl towards her, your own voice starting to crack and it breaks Frank out of his shock. He starts towards Curtis but he waves Frank off before he gets too close. "You're okay, baby, you're okay. He's not getting up. Yeah?" Frank freezes at the comforting words, shocked at how well you're handling Amy. "He's not going to hurt you, okay?"

"Mhm." Amy nods her head vigorously, silent tears streaming down her face. "Yeah, yeah. Okay."

No one saw one of the men get up from behind your computers.

"Yeah? Okay." You nod at her like you're agreeing with what she's saying as if you didn't say it first. "Can you do something for me, baby?"

"Yeah! Yeah." Amy nods quickly again, ready and willing to do anything you ask.

"I need you to go and check on Karen and Foggy for me. Can you do that?" You ask, and Frank knows it's so that Karen will see how traumatised Amy is and give her the physical comfort you couldn't give her right now. "You need to make sure that they're okay."

"I can-I can do that." Amy goes to get up when you give her the warmest smile under all the blood.

"Thank you. Can you do something else for me?" You ask again, looking up at her now that she's standing. "Can you help me up?"

"Oh god! Yeah." Amy goes down into a squat, grabbing a hold of your biceps and helping you up onto shakey legs. You made sure to keep your palms facing you to not get any more blood on her.

"Thanks." You said, knocking your head with hers lightly before Amy turned and stumbled to where Karen and Foggy were.

You turned to Frank and Dinah, and both of them put their guns away to watch the interaction. You start to stand up straight, loud cracking through your back going off and you groan as you stretch out slightly at all the popping. You heavily sigh, still slightly panting as you look at Frank.

"Was I right?" You ask. "There was hardly anyone there, right?"

"You need to sit down." Dinah said, watching you carefully as you went to go to your computers again.

"I was right though." Then you round the corner and there was the crouching man. "Shit!"

He jumps out at you, going for a hit to the stomach but you bring your leg up to block. Your fighting stance was impeccable, hands up protecting your face and light on your feet. Frank realises that you've been trained, so, he hangs back, watching you work. When he goes to strike again you grab onto his arm and spin, turning your back to him, and then run him into the table. Dinah had taken out her gun, aiming it at the man and yelling for you to get out of the way so she could get a clear shot. When he hits it with a grunt, you bring your arm above his and start smashing your elbow into his face repeatedly, grunting for each hit. The man pulls out a knife and swipes, slashing at your hip making you get off him but not without grabbing at another bowie knife he had strapped on his back. You both circled one another like predators, him with his boisterous and self-assured steps and you slinking like a wild cat ready to strike.

He strikes out first and you dodge, moving out of the way and kicking him in the gut with a loud yell making him hunch over. A few more blows were landed from both of you before you had him backed up on the table again. This time you were so worked up and ready to finish this that the first chance you got you brought the blade down on his flat palm with another yell. It went straight through his hand and into the table, making him scream out from the pain.

In a split second, you saw him pull back his other hand with the knife in it ready to slash at you again. You sounded wild again, a mix of growling and yelling leaving you as you grabbed the back of the man's head, yanked the knife from the table, and brought him in close. You kicked his knees out, using the leg to hold him in place below you as you sunk the knife into his neck. More growling and yelling leaving you in heaves as the man struggled under you, truly like you were a wild animal holding a kill in her jaws as it died.

"One Mississippi." You grit out, closing your eyes and panting loudly, grunting here and there when the man still twitched. "Two Mississippi." You said just a touch calmer and your pants slowed down, slowly, slowly getting calmer and Frank slowly started to walk over to you. "Three Mississippi."

You brought your leg down and yanked the knife from his throat making a spray of blood hit Frank's boots. You stood there for a second, head craned up as you took in a few more breaths still holding the knife in a tight grip. You bring your head down and look at the knife, shakily bringing it away from you before hastily dropping it like it was searing hot. Frank knew it was from the cuts on the palms of your hands, that holding anything in that grip was bound to make the wounds worse. You sat down heavily, sighing deeply again and laying your palms upright on your thighs as they continued to bleed.

"Medic should be here soon." Dinah said and Frank realised he was so enraptured with you that he didn't even hear her on the phone.

"That's good." You say softly, still panting. "Curtis really needs it."

"Get fucked, Cypher." Curtis laughs, shaking his head.

Frank goes to be beside you, squatting down and putting his hand on your forearm to see the damage.

"You been holdin' out on me, sweetheart." He said.

You let out a breathy chuckle. "Well, you know what some men are like." You say, giving him a half-lidded stare that was half flirty and half tired. "Didn't wanna scare ya off. I'm a screamer."

Frank chuckles and watches as your eyes close softly at the sound.

"Hey, hey," He leans down and kisses your wrist before coming back up and cupping your cheek. "None of that, doll. Eyes open for me, yeah?"

"I bet you say that to all the girls." Your eyes flutter open and you give him the best smile you can muster.

[dropthedemiurge]

Got prompted by @pinkkop but also partially this might end up as the controversial Thai BL post because the range of characters I'd defend with the passion is very wide for me:D

8 BL BOYS I WILL THROW HANDS FOR

Uea (Bed Friend)

This show isn't jokingly called 'A Tale of 1000 Traumas' for no reason, I mean – there is only so much one young adult can go through, and Uea has been through... well, almost everything. Tagging hurt/comfort fics on AO3 will result into red triggers all around. What fascinates me in this character is his resilience, too. He managed to go through everything with the sheer will power and knowing his own worth, what he deserves and what he does not. I am so glad the show made an active choice to send him to therapy and give him a considerate and loving boyfriend! He really needs both.

Sky (Love in the Air)

Again, no surprise that everyone would want to protect Sky. The acting was also chef's kiss in this show, I know I shouldn't be but I absolutely enjoyed seeing Sky getting triggered and sent to the red-lit room in his mind because this was pure cinematography, but irl I would just hug Sky with consent and never let him go. And kick Gun until he never rises up again too. I think Rain should've been given full freedom to avenge for his best friend. But this is also why I'm writing all these skyrain fics – because they are safe space for each other and I want to keep seeing it.

Rain (Love in the Air)

Ehem, like I said– the show has not declared it loudly but he's one of the most ADHD characters in Thai BLs if I ever saw one. He does not deserve to be mocked for his struggles and airheadness. I wish we saw more of him playing into his strengths beside taming a dom, instead of being infantilized by the show sometimes. Don't ask me to dive into full analysis though, I only could watch the PayuRain half of the show once so I'm going off vibes I remember, but I absolutely adore Rain and love reading fics that focus on his ADHD headcanon and how others understand and help him. And also those platonic BDSM tendencies he has with his best friend Sky.

Kawi (Be My Favorite)

For this guy, I would not fight the show or narration because they treated both characters and viewers with care, gentleness, wise teaching and love (Max is a harsh brat but that's his personality). I would actually fight the fandom: from people who hate-watched this show and refused to acknowledge it was amazingly done further than 'i might've liked it but ew screw this actor and novel the show was inspired by amiright don't judge me for liking it jk lol' to some individuals who missed the beautifully developed and portrayed close bond (aspec on at that, I'll stay firm) that spread across >10 years and different timelines and reduced Kawi to immature whiny weirdo who's scared to fuck Pisaeng ten times a day instead of one, idk. This show is a gem with many life-lessons and Kawi has one of the strongest and fascinating character development in Thai BLs that I've seen. Hands are being thrown.

Boston (Only Friends)

The creators of the show said the series didn't have any intentional message, but considering how many long discussions and poured out frustrations we had with some people, Only Friends definitely did Boston wrong. So what if he's a proud slut, should the show punish him for it while praising 'righteous' characters high on their horses? I don't think so. My guy was constantly filmed illegally and threatened by his hookups and friends, he's very hesitant about falling in love but he tried his best with clearly spoken offers, poly views and limits. I also see Boston kinda neurodivergent and/or demiromantic based on many lines he said about himself and his own view of people and relationships in the series. Nick might not be fully compatible with him, and I would throw hands for both of them, but if those two would communicate better, there would be no need for the OOC "twist" at the end. Their story could be beautiful, sad and realistic, instead Boston being kicked down in the street dirt by everyone after opening up about his heart and fears made me angry.

Akk (The Eclipse)

These descriptions just keep getting longer and longer? Oops... I don't think I need to explain the desire to protect Akk – this guy has not stopped crying since a mischievous and passionate newbie managed to break through his 100m thick wall of composure, pokerface and sheer will to survive. And also through all the manipulation Akk faced from the people he looked up to. Akk and everything that he went through managed to rip my heart out, and I'm not kidding. If you're repressed, oppressed and/or struggling with money, desire to make your parents proud and can't help but feel 'disapproved' feelings for someone – meet Akk, he's very relatable. I'd protect him and you too.

Thua (The Eclipse)

*clears throat* I did say this post would get controversial. I can and I will consider 90% of the people who hate Thua as lacking media literacy :D But without getting into useless fandom discussions, Thua is a poor teenager that needs love and support to be able to find himself and his own voice. He's stressed out by a harsh step-father, constantly facing homophobia and mocking in school, has suicidal intentions and the only good friend who opposed homophobic students and teachers, who showed him safe space and helped reach out to his mother, encouraged him to speak out loudly... went behind everyone's back, started dating the main "bully" of the school who threatened every queer for months and decided to support him while silencing students' and Thua's voices. At least that's what Thua experienced from his POV. Would you throw hands? Thua did, and while I may not agree with how he handled the situation, I can't hate him. He finally stood up for himself and his own, tried to change the system, and I'd fight Suppalo school for him too.

Black (Not Me)

There's someone who doesn't need my protection at all! A second before turning into bloody merciless activist-fighter who doesn't shy away from murdering capitalists and cops, I would still want Black not to think he's better off alone. While antagonistic sexually-tense exchange of comas with his ex-best friend can count as one of the most delicious type of romance that happened in subtext not text, he still deserved to seek solace in his ex-girlfriend and (ex? they were so close, why Gram does not care about him at all when he returns? we'll never know) other activist friend's company. Also, fighting with his life to change something in how the country works and hearing 'nah, your twin is better, he knows how to fight with social media so we achieved more with him than with you' from his mentor and Black deciding that he should again ditch everyone he cares about...noo:( I need spin-off about him where he gets everything he really deserves.

[cptn-merica]

thoughts on peggy carter

i think my biggest issue with peggy carter is marvel is trying to push agendas and pander to audiences as a cop out for formulating a dynamic character. it's obvious she's supposed to be a feminist icon. that's totally cool. i appreciated that as a kid, since i was sick of women being portrayed as weak. the way i see it, peggy suffers from weak portrayal, not portrayal that she's weak.

--

before the peggy fans comment/reblog, "omg not another stucky blog posting peggy hate. leave her alone!!" i don't hate peggy, I just want a clearer picture of who she is. i enjoyed her in the mcu but i wish marvel would've given her justice within the writing. this isn't hate for hayley atwell either. she did really good in her acting, enough so i watched more movies with her in it intentionally.

--

peggy always read to me as a half-developed side character -- no matter if she's the main character. my one of my biggest complaints is that she seems to have little to no motive. motive is what drives people and your main character having consistently unclear motives is sloppy writing.

helping steve? sure, she's his commanding officer and she seemed to like him.

"win the war"? well sure, that was a lot of other people's motives in ww2. why did she even join the war anyways? what convinced her to sign up? she didn't have to, she could've done other work. what was so compelling about the war to her?

for the what if episode: why'd she choose to take the super serum?

my point here is: there are too many points where one questions why she did ___ that could have been better defined (esp in the what if series).

--

marvel can make her much more interesting (and to me appealing) character by not putting her in comparison to steve. they would be forced to solidify her character instead of wimping out and saying "well she's the love interest." I'm not saying that she can't have both a relationship and be a strong woman - many women have/are both. however, when your entire personality depends on your relationship to one person, it's not very healthy or wise.

the concept of marvel pushing for steve and peggy's relationship is fine, that's how romance novels are made. but the lax follow-through on character development removes my interest for the ship. how good romance novels bring interest to each character is by establishing them. they also used peggy as way to pander for chris evans himself - she was an easy way to get steve rogers out of upcoming plot lines. (side note: chris evans is totally justified in not wanting to work for marvel anymore, they just should've handled his character's ending less sloppily)

as for the ship - i would see more value in the steve x peggy ship if i could tell what type of person peggy is. especially when you take away steve. i see value and interest in steve and bucky because, even though bucky was made as a sidekick to steve, he has a strong character. would i want to see him even more fleshed out? yeah, ofc. would i say he's more fleshed out than peggy? yes, because in one movie you can tell who bucky is and why he's doing things. i see why people ship steve and peggy, and I see why people ship steve and bucky. both stances are valid.

i haven't seen it yet nor i do know if i will watch it due to personal time and budget constraints, but i hope that the agent carter series strengthens her character.

ultimately, peggy is the victim of poor and sexist writing.

(note:: this is my personal opinion & analysis, based on the first two cap movies and the what if series. im not speaking for anyone but myself. if you feel like her character is rich enough and you're satisfied by her portrayals, that's great, I just wanted to share my stance. again, i don't hate peggy, I just want a clearer picture of who she is and why she does what she does)

[ddarker-dreams]

for some reason nexus, by far, is the story where i felt most 'trapped'. honestly, i loved the way you wrote nexus, it feels a lot like a movie wtfff....

i often get a sense that most of your works are a lot reminiscent to classic novels to me, but this one felt like a movie! its actually amazing how flexible u are lol

mommy issues aside, that will be in another ask- lear. that hurt me.

i have to admit, i didnt really care for lear so much until ch 3 or 4, because i finally realized wow this guy is actually.............. genuinely nice. hes cute. in irl id maybe have heart eyes for a guy like him.

the sequence where reader has flashbacks of lear and lear probably being the first and only person to know her intimately (IN AN EMOTIONAL SENSE NOT THAT WAY) absolutely hit me harder because i eventually thought "WHY didnt i pay attention to lear in the first place?!" i initially didnt care for him because my mind was all BLADEE BLADEEEE, but now... fuck, lear, i shouldve been with you since day 1.

another interesting thing id like to think about is how reader's regrets, are definitely feelings that nona and lear are experiencing as well. all three are most likely, simutaneously although perhaps now lightyears away instead of mere walls parting them, thinking about their regrets over a loss thats almost like death. where will lear ever put his love now that n darling isnt around anymore? he can only look back to his memories and pray that it's enough to soothe him. would nona regret ever being mean to n darling, skipping her studies, and perhaps later on she would viewed herself as a burden to n darling in the past?

so much to think about, and so little emotional capacity i have to hold the overflowing emotions...

i love nexus and especially YOU LOCK !!!!!

omg i think it's cool that you found nexus' style similar to a movie... the scenes i imagined in my head felt cinematic-ish, especially n darling recalls previous dialogue at certain moments for emotional amplification™. i didn't think about it reflecting in the writing much, but i see what you mean now 😌 there's a lot of emphasis on visuals for prose and metaphors.

A LEAR TRUTHER !!! i wanted him to serve as a foil to blade, so i think once blade started pulling more shenanigans, lear's care for n darling stands out more. lear could've fallen in that possessive pitfall but he's simply built different.

aaa regrets and "i should've x" feel like some of the most effective forms of horror, since it's a universal experience. maybe not the exact scenarios themselves, but everyone's had that moment when they realized how they should've done things differently. when the news comes to light, lear will undoubtedly be emotionally devastated. nona will be as well, though her pain would manifest in anger more than depression. she'd be mad at n darling first, then mad at herself for not being able to do anything to help.

i can't leave them in suffering limbo though 😭 the astral express crew will be who take care of the stellaron crisis on eris. inevitably, they'll meet with lear and nona. the grief won't go away entirely, but the express crew will do/say things that help.

THANK YOU SO MUCH !!! i loved reading your thoughts 🥺 thank you thank you!!!!

[mattatouilletkachuk]

Sunny’s Off-season Writing Prompts

Rules: you can request something that isn’t on this list, however, I am less likely to write it.

The players that I write for can be found here. If there is a player you want me to write that isn’t on the list just message me and maybe they’ll be added.

1. B wrapping their arms around A’s waist and pulling them close, whispering in A's ear: "Stay close to me."

2. “Is now a bad time to mention that I’m claustrophobic?”

3. “We never speak of this again, do you hear me?”

4. “I don’t want anyone else looking at you.”

5. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

6. “I promise you that I will always be there for you.”

7. “You’ve been laying on my arm all day and I can’t feel it.”

8. “You snore. Loudly.”

9. “I don’t understand how I slept so good last night.”

10. “I never would have guessed that you were a cuddler.”

11. “I crave your affection, but I crave your silence even more - shut up.”

12. “I love the idea of growing old with you.”

13. “You do know you’re stuck with me, don’t you?” “Thank God, I am.”

14. “I will die with you. I won’t ever leave your side.”

15. “Does all this mean nothing to you?”

16. “You make me feel so alone.”

17. “I’m not giving up on us, ever.”

18. “Whatever we are, I like it.”

19. Having sex once when you’re not arguing instead kinda tipsy but not drunk, and it’s all giggles and laughter and sweet nothings and the next morning being like “oh fuck i actually like them”

20. “we should probably stop this” “yeah” … “we’re not going to though, right?” “oh absolutely not.”

21. One of them bursting into tears in the middle of an argument.

22. “Stop arguing with me in front of the kids!” “For the last time, they’re not our fucking kids.” 

23. “I think…I can love you.”

24. feeling each other instantly relax as they both quickly get comfortable

25. “she says we bicker like an old married couple”

26. “Is that my sweater?”

27. “They’ve been missing for 3 days and you’re not worried?”

28. “Honey, I’m home!”

29. “Can I sleep with you?”

30. “You’re definitely your mother/father’s child.”

31. Going to order their usual order, but the other one puts their hand up and says, “Usual, right? I got it.”

32. Too hot to cuddle

33. Characters A and B cuddle in a hammock.

34. "I am staying hydrated. All of my drinks are iced." "That does not count."

35. "There is no shame in using a pool floatie." "Yes, there is. I'm shaming you."

36. Gets caught skinny dipping

37. Character A can't get out of the water after seeing B.

38. A just got out of a bad breakup and is determined to have a meaningless summer fling; until they end up falling head over heels for B.

39. Reaction to the first sundress of the season

40. Getting flustered when they are asked to apply sun screen to the other person

41. (A)'s dog went missing on the beach, and is found by (B).'

42. "I should've worn sunscreen."

43. "When will this summer finally end?"

44. Wondering if bringing flowers to the date is too much. 

45. Putting a flower in the other’s hair. 

46. Only realizing how meaningful the flowers gifted to them are when the other explains why they picked those specific ones.

47. “a picnic?! have you swallowed a romance novel?”

48. Finding a bees nest and having the other person deal with it.

49. Picnic gone wrong

50. “Your mom gave me pictures of you when you were a baby.” 

[abstractlesbian]

It's been 2 weeks since my mom got diagnosed with leukemia and she's reacting super well to treatment and her hospital stay is going as well as it possibly can and her prognosis is good

And I think I'm mostly coping well? The first week I could barely think or focus on anything but I'm starting to get back to normal "shit fucking sucks" stress levels instead of "my mom might die!?!" stress levels

Mental health has been a rollercoaster but the past few years have put me thru the ringer so I'm like oh I feel the paranoia/delusion/fear/dread/insomnia/hypochondria etc coming and I know what tools to reach for

It's not perfect but I'm more prepared to handle my mind than I used to be

I feel like my family is expecting me to go off the rails but I'm very much still on the rails. Theres turbulence but I'm holding strong.

I am making a terrible amount of impulse purchases tho. Woke up this morning and immediately bought a carebear teddy bear I gave away when I was 12. Bought way too many books and steam games this month anytime I was too sad or too stressed. I am my mothers daughter.

I also picked the worst possible time in the world to switch from weekly to bi-weekly therapy but I also don't want to switch back BC there's just so much talking with my dad and my mom and my sister and my grandparents and my coworker friend and my offline friends and my online friends + the journaling

So much updating ppl and talking about feelings and venting and problem solving

I've only had one therapy session since the diagnosis and I was unable to speak for the first 20 mins of it... But I also clearly need an outlet for all this shit BC I'm fucking writing a novel on tumblr rn lmao

But I'm not suicidal. I'm 5mo/5 years 5mo/8mo clean with different self harm methods. Not going overboard with substances, just some weed on Fridays/saturdays.

Only took one day off work, probably should've taken more.

Haven't torpedoed any of my relationships. Haven't had any major fuckups at work.

Not doing the best on chores but my dad and I are splitting the pet care / dishes pretty well and I'm managing to have enough clean clothes for work at least.

Idk shit sucks. Shit is exhausting. Shit is miserable.

But I'm getting thru it.

[transsexualgriffith]

3 about berk and also if youve seen any bad Dostoevsky takes, 7 +17 for bsd, 22 berk ❤️

lord I forgot to do this. luckily you haven't answered the ask I sent you either, so I think we're even.

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

oh god on tumblr?? it's not that tumblr isn't still brimming with bad berserk takes, but I am fairly good at evading those, and besides if I wanted some truly terrible berserk analysis, I could simply go on reddit. I think "the ideal culmination of their arcs would be for guts and casca to become king and queen of midland" is, well, I've certainly never heard that one before, but I find it more funny than offensive, and truly bad takes are the ones that feel like the story is purposely being misread to fuel downright dehumanising ways of thinking; so you know what I'm giving this to the racist fyodor x reader blog that talked abt how fyodor would never lower himself to selling his body and then basically went "(like that whore griffith from berserk)" which I still think is one of the most maddening things I've witnessed. perhaps not a berserk specific take, but a tumblr moment if I've ever seen one. ofc if we were talking outside of tumblr I'd have much worse things to show for. you truly got anything from misogyny posting to to blaming people for their csa out there (its a beautiful world), but tbh one of my favourites is the "guts left bcs he was trying to escape griffiths clutches". dostoevsky I'm not sure I can think of anything particularly outrageous, you must understand the true opponent of dostoevskyblr isn't the bad takes its the people trying to disguise tiktok poetry as quotes

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because of how the fandom acts about them?

okay to start off with I don't think there's a single character in bsd that I truly hate: asagiri is too good of a character writer for this and I think the few that I do feel some disdain towards or find myself unintrested in could still be brought closer to me if asagiri could please get back to writing shoujo-esque character driven party conflicts and novels, instead of playing powerscaling with the 5th dimension. unfortunately i think the worst fanon treatment is that of my favourite characters. would be alot easier if I hated them.

i guess chuuya could almost be counted here, because although I very much like chuuya, he used to. basically be my favourite character (??) which honestly baffles me and I cannot quite understand why, but then again, that was many years ago when bsd was in a very different state, both story and fandom wise. I really don't want to look at much of fanon chuuya content and don't find him outstandingly interesting, but I will acknowledge that it is quite fruitless to complain chuuya should get so much attention even though he's "a side character" when we have asagiri to thank for two chuuya centric light novels with the approximate page count of les miserables.

i also do not really like kōyō and find the girlboss mafioso thing very weird and off putting, but it sucks to say this because there are also alot of people who clearly judge her through the misogynistic lense.

and I think everyone should shut the fuck up about mori and talk about something else. I like mori, but I actually find it quite exhausting how even when you're amongst mori likers they can never ever turn down the morality discourse, enough! I don't care what he is he's not real can we like actually talk abt his role in the story in a meaningful way. please.

this question should've been abt ships tbh fanon sskk is going to make me blast myself into the sun.

17. there should be more of this type of fic/art

shibusawa content..............my woman!? I swear to god the bsd fandom is four times the size of what it was when I got here (and mind you bsd was never that underground) and yet the fic count has gone up by like ten. and I have likely seen dead apple more than any other living person so I know how bad of a movie it is (though i think you are truly missing out on the sheer amount of homoeroticism if you do not invest in it even a little bit) but no one can deny how visually appealing shibusawa's character design is, so it is crazy to me that people aren't more eager to draw her. I've also never forgiven tiktok for what they did to dazatsu. we used to have it all in like 2017. we were pioneers. but overall I don't feel unsatisfied with fan content for bsd, it's always been expansive.

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

i don't know if I have a good answer for this, just because berserk is so extremely appraised that it never feels like there’s a part of canon left untalked about, but I do know that my love for the black swordsman arc far surpasses that of the average berserk fan, and though I see it discussed often enough there really isn't any fanfic or something of the sort focusing on that period in time, which is rather sad for me bcs I think guts cringfail pursuit of femto is very funny. I also just have always liked millennium falcon, and don't feel like others particularly care for the inner workings of the kushan regime, or mule, or the ganishka conflict as a whole which I think is pretty lit. the cosmology lore in those chapters is much more compelling than whatever guts has going on in mage world.

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

In your opinion, please rate thg movie series with 1-5 scale.

(1 = I hate it, 3=neutral, 5 = I love it.)

1.The Hunger Games :

Things that you like :

Things that you don't like :

2.Cathing Fire :

Things that you like :

Things that you don't like :

3.Mockingjay

Movie 1 :

Movie 2 :

Things that you like :

Things that you don't like :

Thank you 😊

@curiousnonny

So let me preface my ratings here by saying that I really think these books are already so well edited in terms of necessary content that making a movie version of any of them is a mistake. Maybe I'm biased and greedy, but I honestly feel like 99% of the scenes in the books play a crucial role in either plot, character, or theme development and removing them waters down the story too much, in my opinion. I would much rather have seen a series version on screen than a movie. Not to mention, Collins made her name as a writer in television, and you can SEE IT in how she writes her novels. It's structured like a TV series so it should've been shot like a TV series. Anyways. So my rankings are gonna be... kinda low for the movies. Sorry not sorry.

But also... my thoughts on this are fresh. My youngest was supposed to read The Hunger Games with his 6th grade class. The teacher sent home a form requesting parents' permission to do so. I signed it gladly and sent it back, but apparently there were a lot of parents who sent it back with complaints instead of approval. Enough that the class read the first Percy Jackson book instead. I'm fine with that too, lol, especially since my kiddo really liked it and is now on book five of that series. I've been trying to reread along with him and will hopefully be catching up to him this week, lol.

After his teacher switched books for the class reading, he and I decided we'd read THG books together once he's done with PJO, but then, my oldest skipped a field trip he really didn't wanna go on and wound up staying at school and watching... The Hunger Games and part of Catching Fire. He came home with QUESTIONS, which immediately sparked a "Hey, not fair!" from the youngest and prompted a movie marathon. We made it through all four movies back in March, and I'm still not forgiven for not warning him about Finnick btw...

Okay enough story time. *cracks knuckles*

The Hunger Games

Ranking: 2/5

Things I don't like: Ugh where to start? The removal of Madge and therefore the significance of Katniss's mockingjay pin as a symbol of wealth and power bestowed by the Capitol only to be flipped on its head and turned into a symbol of rebellion. Also, the implications of removing Madge in terms of how they tried to make Katniss into STRONG BADASS WO-MAN while dulling some of her softer edges and dependencies on other people. See also: leaving out the gift of bread from D11 to Katniss.

The dialogue is shit. Sorry, those are my thoughts. You already had really good dialogue in the book why change that? Also, the gutting of the dialogue results in the gutting of both Katniss and Peeta as characters. The first movie turns them into The Watson character, i.e. the character whose purpose it is to ask questions so that the audience can learn about the setting/plot/other characters/whatever. The first movie made Katniss and Peeta look naive and dumb about the Games and the very world they inhabit, which makes no sense for their characters. I get it. It's a storytelling technique to quicken up the process of world building and make up for the fact that we don't get to be in Katniss's head where she tells us what we need to know about her world. BUT their characters suffer for it. Katniss and Peeta are sixteen. Anyone who has interacted with a teenager knows that at that age, we usually have #OPINIONS on things, so in the books, both already have developing opinions about the Games because they are by necessity and by exposure aware of how the Games and the government essentially work. They've lived in this world long enough. They've started to develop opinions and world views, and they act accordingly. The first movie loses this completely from the books.

Do not get me started on the dialogue in the cave scenes we will be here until the next century if we go there.

Buttercup. Christ how hard is it to cast a yellow/orange cat?!?!?! Not that difficult. And granted, this is a minor detail in terms of symbols but at the same time... it's a minor detail. The fact that they didn't even bother showed a lack of caring about the details. Also see: Rock Peeta.

The stakes of almost everything are lowered, from the bread scene (we don't realize until MJ2 that she's literally starving and knocking on death's door in that scene) to the berry scene (and here it's Peeta knocking on death's door and Katniss is desperate to save him, enough to put POISON BERRIES IN HER MOUTH and risk her own life too)... the movie lacks the desperation for both of those crucial parts.

Peeta's leg Peeta's leg Peeta's motherfreaking amputated leg!!!!!!

Things I liked: The sound and sound editing. It's such a small thing, and I have a story to go with this okay? When I saw it in theaters, I disliked a lot of things, but one of them was something I could not put my fingers on. It bugged me for weeks until the movie came out on DVD (yes, I'm old and also saw it at the veeeeeeery end of its theater run where I live... like it was a $5 special...). Anyways. Mr. Kdnfb is an electrical engineer by education and is suuuuuper picky about our sound system in our house. So when I watched it at home, the Thing clicked in my brain. The SOUND. It had been Waaaaaay Off in a way that was awful in that theater for some reason. And once I watched it at home, there was just something about the way they did the sound that made a lot of what I had hated become less of A Thing to me. The more I've watched it, the more I've realized the sound and sound editing was excellent, and I put this as things I liked because my story goes to show how such a tiny thing can really screw up a movie.

Catching Fire

Ranking: 3.5/5 (Omg I'm gonna get barbecued for this one.)

Things I didn't like: See my caveat at the top. Okay, so. One of my biggest problems is just how much got cut to adapt this one to screen. Sooooo many scenes. Finnick "hanging" himself in training, "someone else can get the stupid goat knocked up," all the hullabaloo about the wedding is talked about but that doesn't happen in the movies, the setup for the existence of D13, the plant book and Peeta caring for an injured Katniss, training like Careers, scaring Peeta with the medicine, Katniss really starting to come around to the idea of a rebellion even before the Quell announcement, "Poor Finnick. Is this the first time you haven't been pretty?" Just so much cut for the sake of time and results in the story feeling rushed and sloppy ugh.

While the cast and crew for this one did a much better job adapting the dialogue to the screen, there are still a few crucial bits of dialogue that make me itch with hives. The post jabberjay scene and the death of the morphling mainly. Good lord. You finally let movie!Peeta be as eloquent and convincing as book!Peeta in D11, why not give him the space to do it in the arena, too?

Things I do like: The casting. Hear me out. After the first movie, I was still not entirely sold on Jennifer, Josh, and Liam for the roles they were playing. Really, the only main characters who live through the first movie that I was happy and 100% on board with with were Donald Sutherland, Elizabeth Banks, Woody Harrelson, and Stanley Tucci. Catching Fire is where I accepted Josh's portrayal of Peeta a little bit more, mainly because of the process of film making and what they put forth with CF showed me that he could nail the part if only they'd give him the dialogue and choose the cuts that best showed what he could do. I have no idea what sort of dialogue they were given or how much free reign they were allowed to improvise, but I do know that they will shoot a scene multiple times with multiple different delivery styles and slightly different dialogue. Which means that the actors really don't get a say on which version of their performance makes the final cut. But when the dialogue was spot on in the final version, I felt like Josh pulled off Peeta very well. I also think the way they shot CF allowed Jennifer Lawrence to put forth a better overall performance as well, although I'm still not in love with her as Katniss.

But really it's the Quell Victors/Tributes that I loved about CF. I went in unsure and came out convinced. My caveat here is that I tend to think of the movies as their own thing. The movie versions of the characters are their own iteration and I try really hard not to let them bleed into how I see or think of the characters in the books. That doesn't always happen, but I do try.

Okay this one is kinda not the fault of the first movie, but the increased budget for CF is apparent in several of the things that I liked, namely the costumes, the staging, the special effects. Much better all around.

Mockingjay Part 1

Ranking: 3/5

Things I did not like: Gale. MJ1 finishes off the complete removal of any depth Gale had as a character, a process that started with him rage rushing Head Peacekeeper Thread in CF and culminates here with him condemning Peete's words as a TORTURED PRISONER OF WAR rather than him not only intuiting what's probably happening, but explaining it to Katniss, then trying to protect Katniss from it, like he does in the books. The reason why book!Gale is so much more compelling to me than movie!Gale is because Gale's anger and fire and indignation has REASONING behind it in the book. It is chillingly easy to see the lines his reasoning could possibly take. As in... I've worked in weapons development and I have worked with real people who think like book!Gale or Beetee. Whereas movie!Gale is basically just RAWR!!! fury.

The rescue scene. I could write an entire essay on what's wrong with this, but it all boils down to they tried to shorten it by overlapping the video of the rescue with Finnick talking. Which makes zero military sense btw why the freak would you broadcast helmet video of your team going in on a stealth mission and risk someone intercepting it or noting the presence of an encrypted signal and figuring out what was going on holy hell you would NOT. You'd be freaking SILENT and just waiting to find out!!!!!!! And yes yes, but we need to see it. Okay, but you've already shown scenes with Snow and Seneca talking, Seneca and Haymitch talking, Snow and Plutarch talking, Snow and his granddaughter!!!! cuts from D11 and so much more that Katniss would not have seen, so play this like that. You can still show the audience but clearly keep Katniss and everyone back in D13 in the dark. The way it's shot is nonsensical and also pretty much waters down the horror of what Finnick went through and the impact of his words.

And while we're on this topic, they somehow used that overlapping and ridiculous video feed to try and shorten the scene, but wound up making it interminably and unbelievably long with the layers upon layers upon LAYERS of rooms the rescue squad has to go through and also the Skype Call of Inanity. The whole debacle is so freaking long that I no longer feel tense by the time it's finally over. It's so obvious that the Capitol is letting them take back Peeta, Annie, and Johanna because of how long a stealth mission (which should be almost too fast to process) takes that it becomes stupid for D13 to not suspect something. There's no desperation or high stakes for me with this scene because it's too long and too messy, makes no sense tactically and basically just erases all the emotional depth and pacing of what's in the books ugh. Seriously. You could've spent that time on the torture of the prep team or some of the Boggs and Katniss or Katniss and Finnick content we miss out on. Delly. Gale's siblings. Literally anything that you cut out. Rant over.

"He's gonna kill Peeta".... um no actually it's that Snow won't kill Peeta but keep dangling him in front of you, Katniss...

Things I did like: The sets. District 13 is... perfect. Sterile and drab and utilitarian. Zero luxury or any real sense that humans live there. There are zero personal touches in any of the spaces. No connections to art or joy or life.

Effie. I really wish we'd still gotten the prep team in D13, because it's an avenue through which we see how brutal and lacking in compassion D13 really is, but if it's Effie there with her for the movies, then Elizabeth Banks did a stellar job with what she was given to do. I do wish they'd allowed Finnick to keep his line: "They'll either want to kiss you, kill you, or be you." And if not that, then don't freaking cut the "Why, do you find this distracting?" scene. But overall, Effie in D13 works for me in terms of the movie universe.

Mockingjay Part 2

Ranking: 2.5/5

Things I didn't like: Facepalm worthy wigs and dye jobs. Dude. You are the final chapter of a big budget blockbuster franchise. I understand that the dye jobs have taken their toll and wigs may be just more practical for the actors at this stage, but DO BETTER with the money you have.

Just how much of Johanna they cut out of this part and what that does to Katniss's development.

The ending. It's so lackluster in so many ways. One of the things that I loved about the theme of the ending is how it shows that with the right kind of care, a life can be lived and be worthwhile even after the worst kinds of trauma. We get this through the sheer beauty of Katniss's final words in both the final chapter and the epilogue. To me, the movie ending felt just... blah. And I get that maybe they were aiming for a sense of calm and peace, but instead it came off as blah, we're broken and just going through the motions. Which makes sense right after the war ends, but not as the ending continues into the "Real" scene or the epilogue.

Mahershala Ali is highly underutilized in this movie. Let the man play the freaking part. He's already good with what you let him do. Let him unleash the acting chops and make Boggs sing as a character. And part of this has to do with what they cut from the film, like him carrying Katniss to the hovercraft in D8 and her vomiting on him. Same with Julianne Moore. Coin was not nearly cold or controlling enough nor did she convincingly clash with Katniss enough leading up to Peeta showing up in the Capitol.

The omission of the heartbreaking silence Katniss puts herself into and how they turned the sadness of the final breaking of her friendship with Gale into "Goodbye Gale." Ugh. I laugh at it, but it's not a good change. Like we can't allow a Strong Wo-Man Character to be sad or hurt about this, why not????

Burn. Scars. Burn. Scars. Burn. Scars. BURN! SCAAAAARRRRRRRSSSSSS!!!!!

Things I did like: The music. Odd pick I know, but even though the ending is not well done for me, I almost always start bawling the second Katniss starts singing the meadow lullaby as the credits roll. And that's just one weird instance of me liking the music for this film.

How they brought the hijacking to life. I can't even explain why this works so well, but it does. My only wish is that they'd given more time for the Real/Not Real game to develop on film and included more of Peeta's dialogue that shows both the struggle and him regaining parts of himself -- the cafeteria scene, his words to Pollux and Tigris for example.

And there you have it, @curiousnonny. My super long answer to your question. ;)

[soot-and-salt]

14 for "forever yours, nocturnal me" & 3 for the "we should've been enemies" series as a whole!

Hello anon! Good to see you!

(Question from this list of fanfic author questions - come ask me more!)

14. Talk about the fic's opening scene & how you approached it

Listen, I don't want to be one of those people who goes "yeah, my shit rocks" because I generally suffer from crippling feelings of inadequacy but I have to go on the record to say that I think the opening scene in Forever Yours, Nocturnal Me FUCKING SLAPS.

I LOVE gothic fiction. I love haunted mansion stories like Crimson Peak and books like Jane Eyre. I studied Victorian horror novels in college. Like, this shit is my JAM. Since I was writing a gothic story, I wanted to involve a scene like that so badly but I wasn't sure how to make it fit. I just knew I had to have it.

That scene almost came like three installments earlier but it wasn't a dream so it was regular Lucifer walking around holding a candle after a black out (because the hotel is fucking with him) and him remarking "huh this is very gothic women running from houses of me" but I cut it (and the black out) because it didn't really work. When I started thinking of dreams for Alastor and Lucifer to share, immediately I knew this was my chance and, just like a gothic woman escaping a haunted mansion, I fucking ran with it.

I am SO GLAD people seemed to like it just as much as I do. I'm absolutely so happy with it. I like that it feels a little cinematic. I saw it SO clearly in my head when I wrote it. I'm no one in this fandom but that is the scene my heart desperately wants fan art for. Who DOESN'T love the hero of a doomed gothic horror story to run from the house in the flimsiest, most see through nightgown?

Huh. Did I say doomed? Weird.

3. Did the idea change at all by the time the fic was complete?

Okay, listen. I am not a smart person. I wrote the first part of We Should've Been Enemies as a one shot. Pure vibes. I wanted something visceral and gothic and I think it did that pretty dang well. Then I realized I wanted to keep playing in the sentient hotel so I wrote the next installment. I wanted a Mardi Gras dance scene. I wanted Alastor to suck Lucifer's blood like a vampire.

Cool. More vibes. Love it.

Turns out, though, you can't survive on a vibes based economy alone.

So when the absolutely lovely @radiaurapple asked me some questions about the overarching plot, my brain sort of flatlined.

Oh yeah I needed one of those, huh.

I had a general trajectory of what I wanted to happen, of story beats I wanted to hit. It was the stuff in between I was kind of handwaving. So I took their advice, sat down, and plotted EVERYTHING out. I know how it all ends, now. I know how we get there. I know what's happening to Alastor, to Lucifer, and to everyone else. I've been able to throw misdirection in, and give hints to the plot, so that's been fun.

Should I have thought of this before like installment three? Yes, totally. 100%. In my defense, I didn't expect Be It Ever So Humble to be more than a really lovely/gory one shot. If I had set out to make it a full story, for nine installments, there are definitely things I would change or hints I would plant sooner. But ah well. Hindsight and all that. I still think it's coming out really well (fingers crossed) and I'm excited for everyone to react to the next few parts.

I'm not good at episodic writing. I tend to write one shots that get delusions of grandeur and grow into more. I'm trying to be more mindful of it and I want to really TRY to write an actual fic with chapters instead of a series, which would really push me to write in advance and have everything planned ahead of time and maybe break me of my horrible need for external validation?

That is to say I may or may not be cooking a human radioapple AU fic up in this morass of anxiety I have the absolute gall to call a brain. We shall see.

Boy, that was a lot of words to say "lol no oh god help why am I like this".

Thank you for reading my silly little gothic series. <3