#i‚ am rambling. please excuse me i just absolutely adore this piece and i feel like my usual eloquent way of wording just went poof

[ughscara]

how i feel sleeping tonight after reading this

a lesson in betrayal.

There had been a new person residing around the village for a while, and Kabukimono had come to learn his name was Escher. He was a mechanic from Fontaine, and apparently, he had come to Tatarasuna to do something with the Mikage Furnace. It seemed that he was helping to make it better and more efficient. The puppet wasn’t too sure of the exact details.

For some reason though, you didn’t like Escher, something he didn’t understand. Kabukimono had even overheard you whispering to Niwa about the mechanic. He wasn’t sure why, the man seemed like a nice guy! The Fontainian would always somehow spot him from afar and try to strike up a conversation. But you would always snatch him away before he could get near. You didn’t like the way he smiled, you said. Although Kabukimono couldn’t quite understand fully, he… did at the same time. Escher had some kind of… eerie aura to him. The puppet couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Regardless, Kabukimono didn’t care too much anyway. The mechanic wasn’t someone he was interested in, and he wanted to respect your wishes. If someone as intelligent as you said to avoid him, then he probably should. So, he didn’t think about Escher for a long time, much more content with enjoying life with you.

But recently, things hadn’t been as nice lately. The furnace was not working as it should be. It was spreading harmful, fatal gas to the area and even killing people. Kabukimono was scared. Seeing his fellow friends and villagers die hurt his sensitive heart terribly, and he didn’t know what to do. You and Niwa were also struggling with the situation. When he asked about any updates, you always forced a smile and held him close to your chest, combing your fingers through his hair and not responding.

Kabukimono knew he had to do something. For Tatarasuna, for his friends, for Niwa, for you.

“I’m going to Inazuma City,” Kabukimono said one day, all of a sudden, surprising you greatly.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I’m going to go to the city,” he repeated, “and talk to my mo-, the Shogun with my golden feather. Maybe she can help us.”

You remained silent for a moment. You knew of the complicated relationship your lover held with the Electro Archon. But you could not bring yourself to stop him. Kabukimono had that look of resolution in his eye, and this was his decision. As his devoted lover, you were in no place to refute him.

“Alright, Kabukimono. Come here then,” the puppet tilted his head curiously before following you to your shared bedroom. You made him sit at the dresser in front of the mirror before taking out the special comb and working through any knots in his hair. He seemed to be confused, but he relaxed at the sensation of your skilled fingers stroking his long hair.

“If you’re going to meet the Shogun, you should prepare. So, practice with me, love. What are you going to say?”

“I’m going to say… please help the people of Tatarasuna. We need your help otherwise the situation will get worse and everyone will…” his voice trailed off. “And I have so many people I care about here, and I don’t want to see anyone else get hurt. So please help.” You patted his head comfortingly.

“Good. You’re doing amazing, love. You can do this,” you whispered, moving your hands up and down his shoulders. You redid his red eyeliner and gave him the cleanest pair of clothing you had just washed, not a single speck of dust to be seen on his white outfit. It was time for him to leave, but you could not help but be reluctant to your lover’s departure. Kabukimono, ever growing more aware of human emotions, noticed and attempted to comfort you by intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Don’t worry about me, [Name]. I’m going to be back soon, and I’ll bring help with me. Everything will be okay,” he clumsily reassured you and squeezed your hands. A slight smile grew on your face as you squeezed back.

“Kabukimono,” you pecked his forehead. “I love you more than anything.” Despite the situation, the puppet could not help but go a bit soft.

“I love you more, [Name],” he responded without hesitation before kissing you on the lips. The kiss felt melancholic somehow, even though you two knew you would see each other again. This was just a few days of separation. You had hope, and so did he. You placed one last kiss on his cheek before you sent him on his way, waving him goodbye.

Little did he know that would be the last time he saw you ever again.

—

When you heard a knock at your door, you jumped up to your feet and nearly sprinted to the door. It had been a few days since your beloved Kabukimono had left for Inazuma City, and you were growing antsy waiting for his return.

What you were not expecting was the Fontainian mechanic to be standing at your doorstep with a smile. Your heart dropped immediately but you forced an uncomfortable smile on your face.

“Escher,” you greeted, trying not to let your emotions show on your face. “What do you need?”

“No pleasantries [Name]? How cruel of you,” he chuckled and you could only fake laugh in response. To be honest, you wanted to keep this conversation as short as possible, for you and Niwa had great suspicions regarding the Fontainian. In fact, you thought he wasn’t from Fontaine at all. But you didn’t want to let him know that now. You were relying on Niwa to deal with that kind of stuff.

“Oh… my apologies. You know, I’ve just been on edge for a few days, with the furnace situation and all.” Escher appeared to smile in… agreement with your statement. 

“Ah, I know exactly what you mean. Dreadful situation, really,” he nodded. You felt like he wasn’t being sincere in the slightest. “I’ve come to ask, is it true that puppet has gone to Inazuma City?” You raised an eyebrow at his question.

“Kabukimono,” you repeated his name, “has indeed gone there. He’s trying to seek an audience with the Shogunate to get help for us.” Escher hummed in acknowledgment.

“I see. Niwa said the same thing,” you perked up at the mention of your friend’s name.

“Niwa? You’ve seen him? He’s actually supposed to be meeting me here soon, but I haven’t received any word from him.”

“Oh, you’ll be meeting Niwa shortly. He’s on his way,” Escher replied. Although that seemed like a normal statement, it felt very ominous to you.

“Um… alright. Thanks,” you mumbled hesitantly. “If that’s all…”

“Say, if I may be so intrusive, what do you find interesting about the Shogun’s puppet?” The question caught you off guard.

“Excuse me?”

“Please, do indulge my curiosity. The puppet lacks the ability to understand humans and the world around him, and he does not possess a heart, nor does he have any exceptional qualities. As a researcher, I simply find the relationship intriguing.” You furrowed your eyebrows at his words and resisted the urge to slap him. 

“Kabukimono has plenty of wonderful qualities,” you rebuked. “He’s selflessly kind, caring, and helpful to all, even to those who don’t need to deserve it. He may not understand humans to the fullest extent, but he can laugh, smile, and cry with them. He’s trying to be better every day. That’s something most people can’t say.” You don’t know why you were trying so hard to defend Kabukimono and yourself against someone who probably wouldn’t understand a fraction of what you were saying, but you felt the need to do so anyway.

“And for the record, Kabukimono does possess a heart. It may not be physical, but it surely exists. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes,” you declared resolutely. You’ve always believed Kabukimono did not need to fret over not having a heart in his chest. The heart he owned was something far more beautiful, portrayed by his kindness and care for others. But, your seriousness was met with a bout of laughter from Escher. He seemed positively amused, and you instinctively shrunk back since he seemed completely mad.

His laughter suddenly made your body shiver with a horrible feeling, so you quickly tried to slam the door in his face when Escher suddenly moved faster than your eyes and brain could see or comprehend. An overwhelming pain coursed through your body, and when you looked down there was a rapidly growing bloody stain seeping through your clothes, dripping on the floor. Your eyes widened as you stumbled back, falling from the floor as you clutched your severe injury with pain.

“You… damn you… Niwa was right about you,” you struggled to breathe and forced the words out. “What are you… planning?” The smile on “Escher’s” face never seemed to leave as he brushed you off.

“What an interesting response. I found your little love game quite amusing. Really, the idea of a human loving a puppet was entertaining to watch.”

“Wha… what? How dare you?” You seethed despite being on the verge of blacking out from your injuries. “Our love was real. It doesn’t matter if he was human or not. Those things don’t matter when it comes to love. And not everyone wants to use other people, unlike you. Some people,” you scowled and coughed out some blood, “actually care about others regardless of any other factors. And I cared for him, no matter what.” The mechanic’s smile only grew as he chuckled at your response.

“What a beautiful way to see this world. It almost makes me feel a little bit bad… but do not worry. You will be joining Niwa shortly… and your beloved puppet will be left in good hands.”

The last thing your eyes saw was the malicious grin of Escher, but the last thing you saw as your eyes fluttered shut was the beautiful smile of your Kabukimono. In your last moments, you prayed and hoped to whatever would be willing to take pity on you, that Kabukimono would not believe the lies of this man. That he would see that your love for him was always true and that you would never betray him under any circumstances.

Your last wish was left unfulfilled. 

—

Meanwhile, Kabukimono came to the conclusion that the Shogunate had turned their backs on Tatarasuna and its people. The feeling was nothing new to the puppet, having been betrayed by his own mother, but it still served as a painful reminder of reality for him. So, the trip was a complete waste of time that only served to cause him more despair, and he had left you alone for no reason. But now, he was back in Tatarasuna. He wondered if you and Niwa had come up with a solution by now. 

However, upon his arrival, Kabukimono was greeted by Escher instead. The mechanic, ever smiling, gave him a device that would help him absorb the Tatarigami and save Tatarasuna. The puppet only heard “save Tatarasuna.” If Tatarasuna was safe, then you would be safe and happy. Niwa too. Everyone would be okay, and everything would go back to normal eventually. It would take some time, but the peaceful, slow days he loved to spend with you would soon return. So, with his love for you as his motivation, Kabukimono took the device and headed into the hazardous furnace with hopes of a better future in mind.

—

The process of absorbing the Tatarigami was exhausting for Kabukimono, but he had done it. He felt as if he could barely walk straight after the arduous process. As he stumbled out of the furnace, Escher was waiting for him, who quickly concealed his sick grin at the sight of the puppet.

“It seems as though you have succeeded. How wonderful,” the mechanic seemingly congratulated him. Kabukimono didn’t need his words right now. All he wanted was to go back home to you. You were surely so worried about him right now. He was worried about you too, having been apart from you for a while. But something gnawed at Kabukimono’s curiosity. The device Escher had given him made him feel strange. It had protected him from the dangers of the furnace, yet it was just… odd. The puppet had to question the mechanic as to what was in it before he returned to you.

“This device… what is in it? I think it protected me,” Kabukimono mumbled, fatigue slurring his words. Kabukimono missed the mechanic’s slight psychotic grin at his question, already having his schemes and lies planned out.

“Your dear [Name] volunteered themselves for this. Were it not for them, the purification device would not have worked,” Escher shook with head with faux sadness. Kabukimono instantly froze and ran cold. All the heavy exhaustion and aches that plagued Kabukimono’s body dissipated into nothingness at those few words, replaced by sheer adrenaline fueled by fear.

“What? What do you mean by that?” Kabukimono shot up straight, panic and confusion seeping through him. Escher cracked open the device, and it was then Kabukimono’s body was assaulted with dread. There lay a withered heart. Bile crept up to the puppet’s throat as he staggered back at the horrific sight. Escher continued on as if this was nothing special.

“Indeed, the poor thing,” Kabukimono was too shocked to pick up on the mechanic’s mocking tone, “The device could have worked without the heart, but you would not be able to survive. And so they sacrificed themselves which Niwa and the others agreed to before fleeing. It’s their last gift to you,” Escher lied effortlessly, weaving a false tale for the sake of manipulating the once-innocent puppet further. He knew that the puppet would be too hurt and confused by your death to question him about the validity of his statements. It was his fate to be betrayed, to be used, the disguised Harbinger wanted to drill into him.

Kabukimono opened his mouth and then closed it, and then tried to speak again but no words could come out. Your heart did not even resemble a heart anymore, now black and discolored and no longer beating. Kabukimono could not bring himself to think that was your heart, because your heart would be a beautiful one, a pure one from how wonderful a person you were. And your heart would be in your chest, so he could listen to your heartbeat to fall asleep at night. Surely, something like that could not belong to you? Because that would mean you are… you are… the one word he cannot bring himself to even think of.

“You’re… you’re lying,” the words that leave the puppet’s mouth take a great amount of energy, energy that he wouldn’t have had normally but his concern for you was far deeper than his bodily needs. “You’re lying!” Kabukimono slowly grew more animated from his initial horror. “[Name] is waiting for me. They’re waiting for me at home!” The eccentric could only repeat his words over and over again, for his poor mind could not compose anything else at this moment.

“Oh? If you don’t believe me, you’re free to-” Before Escher could finish his sentence, Kabukimono turned and took off in the opposite direction with speed even he could not have expected. To think that he could work up that much stamina after absorbing all of the filth in the furnace. He was truly a God’s creation.

“Oh my. Perhaps I should have left the body there for him to see too,” the mechanic smiled to himself as he shifted back to his regular form. “The face of what should have been an emotionless puppet after losing everything he holds dear… an interesting experiment indeed.”

—

Kabukimono’s speed rivaled the time he ran when you were hurt. He ran as fast as his puppet joints would take him, ignoring the stinging of his knees from tripping and falling, ignoring all the pain he had just endured from the furnace, and immediately launching himself back up to continue sprinting. He wouldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe it, no, he can’t, for if you are gone, what was the point of this world? You are his light, his everything, his whole world, and perhaps even part of his will to live after his betrayal and trauma. So no, you simply cannot be dead. You still had to be here. 

He reassures himself through haggard pants due to overexertion. He’s going to reach your house soon. When he arrives, the view will be beautiful. First, he’ll see you waiting there patiently for him, and then you’ll jump up and wave to him excitedly. He will see the Lavender Melon tree bearing juicy fruits, but you’ll be there to swat his hand away playfully and tell him they’re still not ready yet. He’ll see you take his hand and lead him into the kitchen. The two of you will eat some home-cooked food together, and you’ll kiss his forehead and praise him for how hard-working he was today. Since he was so tired, you’ll take a long, lovely, bath with him, washing away all the fatigue he’s built up in his body. Of course, he’ll do the same for you. Lastly, you two will be cuddling together and tickling each other under the blankets playfully, giggles filling the room, since the situation has been resolved. It will be simply wonderful, Kabukimono thinks. It will be okay. It will be okay. It will be okay.

Finally, the puppet makes it to the familiar path leading to your house. His senses do not notice the sight or scent of the smoke yet, far too disconnected from reality at the moment, his thoughts only occupied with you. Again, he thinks it will be okay. Everything will be alright. Then, Kabukimono came to a screeching halt in a matter of seconds.

Your house and everything around it was on fire.

Kabukimono paused to look at it, hues of orange, red, and yellow dancing and engraving themselves into his memories. He stood there, mouth slightly agape. He wanted so badly for this all to be a dream, a hallucination. He didn’t want this to be real. Yet with how badly his senses were assaulted, Kabukimono knew deep down that this was reality. Another blink, and he scrambled from his spot and into the inside of the burning house, completely ignoring the possibility of injury. Ignoring the fact that you were most likely no longer alive.

Everything was up in flames. He noticed everything you had was virtually gone, burnt to crisps. The rooms of the house had become unrecognizable, nothing more than burnt pieces of wood and its decorations now disfigured. Soot began to cover his once pure white clothing, but he paid no mind. Kabukimono rushed into every room of his home anyway, ignoring the licking of flames against his body, trying to distinguish anything that wasn’t ruined. Trying to find you, because he still refused to believe any of this was real. Refusing to believe that the kitchen table was now a pile of scorched wood. Refusing to believe the once soft and fluffy rugs and blankets were now burnt wool. Refusing to believe that the futon was reduced to nothing more than holes. Refusing to believe that now you were nothing more than a… corpse.

Desperation had overtaken the puppet’s incoherent mind. He dug through the piles of burnt furniture and items and wood with his bare hands, ignoring the stinging and burning it did to his fair skin, in hopes that for some reason he would find you there. He trashed the remains even more than they had been damaged by the fire, fueled by sheer anguish and desolation until nothing had been left untouched. He found nothing. 

You were… not here… you were… gone. The realization made his knees buckle as he crumpled to the floor in agony. You were truly… dead. Death meant he would never be able to see you again. Death meant none of your smiles, your laughs, your hugs and kisses, and reassurance. Death meant your love was gone. And all of these memories too were nothing but ashes now. Kabukimono’s skin felt like it was on fire. Yet inside, the puppet felt cold. Very cold. A coldness he hadn’t felt since his first betrayal…

This wasn’t just a house. It was his home. He had finally found a home. A home with you. Somewhere he was accepted. Loved. A place where he thought he had a heart. But you…

You betrayed him too, the puppet thought, as he bawled his eyes out, screaming and crying and wailing long after his throat went hoarse, ignoring the raging fires and smoke around him. But you promised him. You promised him so many things. To celebrate many birthdays with him, to teach him new recipes, lots of words, and new traditions and holidays. To marry him. How dare you, how dare you break your promise to him…? Was this all a hoax, a lie? Why? 

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

For what seemed like ages, that word was the only thing that ran through Kabukimono’s thoughts, staring blankly into space. The tears still fell and stained his cheeks, but the puppet had quelled his sobbing. As he stared mindlessly, images of you flashed through his mind, yet they began to fade away into nothingness. Your laughter faintly rang in his ears, but it soon turned to silence. 

Kabukimono could not keep track of how long he sat in the fire. Eventually, he got up and stumbled out of the burning stack of wood, almost like a newborn baby who was learning how to walk. Lost and unsure, needing guiding support from a loved one. Only that you were no longer there to provide that for him. 

It was then that Kabukimono realized the truth of this world, leaving behind his “heart” in the ashy remains of his old home.

Love? Love meant nothing but an eternity of deception. It was a lie, he seethed internally. Such worldly filth was what caused his chest to ache so terribly now, and those disgusting and weak tears to fall from his eyes, his throat to be choked up and clogged. Opening himself up to love was the same as opening himself up to torment and betrayal. And therefore, the puppet vowed that day to remove every human emotion from his being. If he did, then maybe one day he could forget about the endless pain your death caused him. With one swift motion, his long hair was no more, instead lying in clumps around his feet.

Kabukimono died with you that day, never to be seen again.

lesson 1. lesson 2. lesson 3. lesson 4. lesson 5. lesson 6. lesson 7. lesson 8. lesson 9. lesson 10. bonus chapter.

[chaifootsteps]

Alrighty, compliment time. Please excuse the overuse of pictures. Let me first just say— I love your art. I started following you around 2018 after meeting you on FurVilla, and I found you here due to Satellite. And let me just say this— you’ve improved so much??? Like, looking back at your art then and then looking at it now, the difference is astounding. Let me show you some of what I mean. (I also apologize in advance for how long this is going to get.)

First let me just say I LOVE the anatomy in these pieces. The way Mayfly’s arms are positioned??? Valefar’s sassy and confident little lean??? And that’s not to say anything about how good his chest looks, and even the hands on both are pleasing to the eye. Each of their positions are just so expressive and capture their personalities perfectly, and I love it.

Additionally, you have a very specific way of doing coloring and lighting, and it’s just so— smooth??? Soft??? The way you do lighting in a way contrasts against the rather angular nature of your style, but you do it in a way that looks so, SO good. I could list a lot more pieces here but I don’t want to make this too long.

Look at this little fucker. He’s fucking adorable.

And that’s to say nothing of your storytelling. The storylines you construct for your characters are all so unique and interesting, and I am constantly wanting to ask about them more. What happened with Flora??? How do Crypt Keeper and Vault Keeper end up falling in love in the Ghoulunicats AU??? What’s the deal with SkekZoop??? How is Satellite doing?!?! I don’t think I’ve ever been as interested in someone’s OCs before as I am with yours, and I always love hearing you ramble about them.

(I might make a separate posts gushing about your fics right now, but I’m in public and I don’t think I want some of my favorite ones in few view of other people.)

But yeah, to sum a long post up, I think you’re very cool and I hope to have my art and storytelling capabilities be at least half as good as yours one day. I apology for any spelling mistakes.

GHPOGHFG

Not to go into the sad nitty gritty of my personal life, but I needed to hear this today more than any day in a long, long time. I'm absolutely saving every word of this for the next rainy day. Thank you for this, and thank you for being there on Furvilla and for being here now, and for your wonderful commentary you put in the tags of things!

(Also never, ever feel the need to hold back from asking me about my dumb OCs, because every ask I get about them makes my literal month!)

[princehrry-writings]

Legal Guardian

ugh this took way too long lol, but here it is!!! i forget exactly that sparked this but i thought it was a cute idea.

warnings: injuries (nothing major), hospitals, cursing, harry being a protective dad 🥺, talks about adoption and legal guardians, crying

wordcount: 2481

harry styles x reader, stepdad!harry x reader, stepdadharry x oc!stella

masterlist

Stella gets hurt and Harry is the only one there- but he has no legal jurisdiction…

.

.

.

It all happened really fast. Harry can’t even recall how it started, but he knew very well how it ended. A sobbing Stella strapped into her car seat as he raced to the emergency room, frantically calling Y/n who was in a different state on a work trip.

The 5 year old didn’t understand what was going on, she just knew she was hurting… really bad. And that she wanted her mommy and daddy.

The traffic seemed to be working against him, getting in his way at the most inconvenient times, all the while he was trying to console his weeping daughter, crying out “Daddy it hurts so bad!” effectively shattering his heart into a million little pieces.

Stella had been playing happily in the backyard at home, showing off her wonderful dance moves to Harry who watched with an adoring smile on his face, taking little videos to send to his fiance, when suddenly she was laying on the ground, clutching her ankle, and crying for him to come get her. He rushed into action, not having seen her take the fateful step into what must have been a hole in the ground or something.

Screeching into the hospital car park, he stops somewhere he obviously wasn’t supposed to but he couldn't care less. His mind was racing. What if she broke her ankle? Or tore a ligament? What if she has to get surgery? All of this is what he worries about as he flings the back door of his car open, trying his best to appear calm for his daughter (but it’s not really working), and scoops her carefully into his hold, bringing her inside and shouting for someone to please help him.

A few nurses rush to his side, asking him different questions and asking for someone to “Page Dr. Robbins, tell her we need a peds consult.”

Stella is whisked away from him and before he can start to follow after her, a hand is placed on his chest, stopping him in his place.

“Sir, we can’t have you in the room with her. You’re not on her file as a legal guardian!” A doctor tells him. In that moment, he sees nothing but red, steam pouring out of his ears.

“The hell I can’t, I’m her father! I’m not going to let her sit in there all alone while strangers poke and prod at her!” He all but yells at the man. Harry is not violent. He really isn't. But he’s not afraid to lay somebody on their ass when it comes to his girls. With kindness or course. And maybe a black eye.

From the room she was taken into he can hear her crying for him.

“Wan’ my daddy! Daddy!” Harry didn’t think his heart could break any further than it already had but he was proven wrong by the ache in his chest that only grew stronger the longer he was kept away from his lovebug.

“Doctor, respectfully- if you don’t move the hell out of my way, I will move you myself. That is my daughter, and my fiance is in a different state right now on a business trip so I am the only parent she has right now. If you try to keep me from my child I will take legal action against the hospital and sue for everything you’re worth. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Harry is seething, trying to move past the man in the white lab coat and light blue scrubs. Again, he is stopped.

“I will call security, sir!”

“DADDY!” Stella is now screeching, her little voice hoarse from all the yelling and crying.

“Don’t you fucking hear that? She needs me, and you’re telling me I can’t go be with her! What the hell kind of doctor are you?” Harry is in the man's face, pointing at him vehemently. He doesn’t care that people are starting to watch the scene. Doesn’t care that some people have recognized him and are recording the ordeal. Let the people see him fighting for his family. He doesn’t give a rat's ass if his “image” takes a hit. His daughter is on the line and he won’t back down.

“She’ll be fine-”

“No she won’t! Go ahead and call security. My daughter needs me and you’re not going to stop me from being in that room with her.” With that he pushes past the doctor (who must be an intern or something with how he’s handling this situation) and rushes into the room where his baby is screaming for him. He’s at her side in a matter of seconds, wiping the tears from her face, peppering kisses onto her head, petting her wild hair back from her face, just consoling her in any way that he can.

How fucking dare they try to keep him from her, especially when she’s in a state like this.

“It’s ok baby girl, daddy’s here now. I’ve got you. You’re ok, you’re ok!” He mumbles into her hair, doing his best to stay out of the way of the people examining her but still close enough so she knows he’s right there with her.

Little tears still streamed down her face but she was much calmer now, her breathing more even and body less tense.

“Mr. Styles we’re bringing in the portable x-ray to take a look at her ankle, so you’re going to need to wear this.” He nods and takes the vest given to him, putting it over his shoulders like he sees the others do. A similar article is placed over Stella, who is clinging to Harry’s hand, fearing that she’s going to have to be without him again. But he promises he isn’t going anywhere.

As they’re taking the x-ray his phone starts ringing in his pocket and he checks to see that it’s Y/n calling him back.

“H, what’s wrong, is she ok?” Her panicked voice rushes out as soon as the call connects.

“We’re in the ER right now and she’s getting an x-ray to see what’s going on with her ankle-”

“You’re in the room with her right? She’s not alone?”

The little shards of his heart keep breaking into smaller and smaller pieces as her voice breaks.

“Yeah, I’m right next to her. Don’t worry m’love, she’s not alone!” He glared at the doctor that tried to keep him out as he said that, letting him know he hadn’t forgotten.

“I’m gonna facetime you so I can see her.” She said and he nodded, waiting for it to come through. When it did he quickly accepted it, seeing the love of his life’s face on the screen, with her puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks as she wiped away the remaining tears so she didn’t freak out her baby.

“Stell, mumma’s on the phone, she wants to talk to you.”

“Hi baby girl!” Y/n said as soon as Harry held the phone so Stella could see her mom. The little girl's tear stained cheeks looked exactly like her moms, and her heart broke for her baby.

“Hi mumma,” Stella pouted into the camera, clutching onto her daddy as tight as her little hand could. Harry was a little uncomfortable but he would take this over not being in here at all.

“How do you feel, baby? You ok?” She asked.

“My foot hurts and they wouldn’t let daddy in here and I was scared, but he’s here now so I’m ok.” The little girl rambled off. Y/n almost missed how she said they wouldn’t let Harry in the room but when it finally registered, she was fuming. Absolutely, royally pissed.

“What do you mean they wouldn’t daddy in there?” Stella shrugged and looked up at Harry for an answer. He brought the phone back so he could see her after looking around at the doctors in the room, all doing their job and pretending they weren’t listening to this conversation, but a few of them winced when Y/n asked her question.

“Some bloke tried to keep me out of the room while Stella was being examined but she was on the verge of a whole breakdown. It was like Disneyland in Paris all over again.” He said, referencing the time Harry took his girls to Disneyland while they were in Paris and Stella got separated from her mom and dad. She had never not been able to see at least 1 of her parents before. Needless to say… she didn’t handle it very well. Screaming, crying, and hyperventilating (which freaked her out even more- causing her to scream louder and cry harder) ensued very shortly, disturbing every person around her. But it made it easy for them to find her and she spent a very very long time clutching her tiny arms around her daddy’s neck, not letting him set her down for anything. That was an interesting trip to the bathroom …

“Why would they try to keep you out of the room? You’re her father!” Y/n was on the verge of popping a blood vessel. Of course the one time her baby really needs her, she’s hours away.

“Uh, Mr. Styles, I’m so sorry to interrupt! But the x-ray is complete. There’s no break, it looks like a sprain at worst. Also, about why my intern was saying you weren’t allowed in the room, not that I was listening to your conversation, with ped’s cases we typically only allow legal parents or guardians in the room and your name isn’t anywhere on her file or on her records so he was just trying to follow safety protocols. He didn’t go about the situation as well as he should have because we always want to make sure our patient has what they need and that was obviously you- but that is the reason why you initially weren’t let into the room. You’re not a legal parent or guardian. Based on your situation- you’re legally considered a step-parent and that title doesn’t come along with any legal jurisdiction.” Dr. Robins explained, in quite a few words Harry thinks, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Just sits and realizes that while for the better part of a year and a half, he’s been calling himself Stella’s dad but the whole he’s not been anything… not legally anyway.

Y/n realizes this too and makes a mental note to call their lawyers to do something about that.

“That makes sense… Thank you, Dr. Robbins! I have her mum on the phone, but you knew that, so if there’s anything else I legally can’t do, she’ll have to take care of it like thi-”

“Mr. Styles, we won’t tell if you don’t! Anything else that needs to be signed, we’ll just go ahead and have you do it. Save the hassle for everyone.” Dr. Robbins interrupts him and he smiles, silently thanking her.

“Daddy, what's a legal guardian?” Stella asks after a quiet moment.

“A legal guardian is someone who takes care of you because the law says they can. So because I didn’t help mumma make you and I came into your life a little later, I’m not a legal guardian of you. Not yet anyway.” He mumbles the last part but Y/n catches it.

“Does everyone have a legal guardian?” She hiccuped, rubbing at her eyes with the hand that wasn’t clutching Harry’s.

“At one point yeah, but once you get older you don’t need one anymore because you can take care of yourself.”

The girl pauses, thinking about her daddy’s words before muttering “Don’t wanna take care of myself. Wanna stay with you and mumma forever.”

All the little shards of his heart slowly start to piece back together.

“I want you to stay with me and mumma forever too lovebug.” He cooes. Y/n’s eyes light up, her gaze filled with adoration for her little family.

. * .

*

“The documents are all drawn up Mrs. Styles, everything is ready for your husband to sign.”

“Thank you so much Ben!”

. * .

*

“Baby, c’mere. Wanna talk to you about something.”

“Yeah mommy?”

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to quell the tears she could already feel threatening to fall. Her newly wed husband sat beside her on the couch, running his hand along her back and squeezing her shoulder and letting her know he was there if she needed him.

“Do you remember when you and Daddy had that conversation about legal guardians?” The woman asked, pulling her baby into her lap, brushing her hand over the girl's hair affectionately.

“Uhhh, kinda.” She murmured, curling into her mom.

“Do you remember what a legal guardian is?” Y/n rephrased, hoping to jog the girl's memory. Stella nodded and when prompted by her mother explained that “It’s someone who takes care of you until you're old enough to take care of yourself.”

“That’s right baby, very good!”

“And do you remember when we were at the hospital and that doctor was being mean, not letting Daddy into the room with you?” Harry chimes in, scooting closer to his girls. She nodded with a roll of her eyes and a huff of breath, causing a little giggle to erupt from her parents. She really is her mothers daughter.

“Didn’t like him.” She mumbles.

“Do you remember why they didn’t let him into the room?” Y/n asks, knowing she should probably get to the point before her little one checks out and gets bored.

“Cause daddy’s not my legal guardian.” Stella huffs again, rubbing her eyes and nuzzling further into her mom.

“Do you want him to be?”

Stella’s quiet for a moment, tapping her little finger on her chin like she’s thinking hard. “Yeah.”

“Yeah? You want that baby?” Harry asks, pulling her into his lap. The girl wraps her arms around his neck and lays her head on his shoulder, nodding.

“Yeah, Daddy. Want you to be able to come to the doctors with me.” She mumbles sleepily.

The tears Y/n had been fighting off finally broke through, despite her efforts. It’s official. Harry is going to adopt Stella and they would be a family in every sense of the word. No one would be able to take Harry's little girl away from him. All he had to do was sign the paper. Harry felt tears spring to his eyes as well, smoothing his hand along his baby’s back.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that…” He says, squeezing her a little tighter. Y/n snaps a quick picture before she snuggles into them.

“Love you Mommy, love you Daddy.” She murmurs before falling asleep in Harry's arms. Something that isn’t new, but feels different now for some reason. Things felt a little more official and he hadn’t even signed the papers yet.

[inhuman-obey-me]

Knowledge is Wrath

Word Count: 1.8k Description: The Avatar of Wrath had mastered the art of pleasantries and placid smiles, a mask he wears nearly perfectly -- but if you try and take advantage of him, he won't hesitate to let it fall. Part of the A Demon's Nature series. Hereeeeee's Satan and his glorious wrath!! Note: Cabariel is a high-ranking demon named in the Ars Theurgia who has fifty dukes attend to him in the day, and another fifty dukes attend to him at night. Thalbus is one of the named night dukes, who are said to be deceitful and disobedient. Can also be found on AO3 here. content warning: gore gore gore, blood, body mutilation/horror

The Avatar of Wrath had mastered the art of pleasantries and placid smiles, burying the rage that always burned under his skin deep within the darkest parts of his soul. He would be more than wrath, more than the fury that everyone expected of him. At least, that is what he would constantly tell himself, knowing that many still found themselves on edge in his presence. It’s all an act, some who had witnessed his true self would say, others merely repeating it for his title and position alone.

There was a place where those whispers would fade away, however. The company of high-society, where he had gathered an array of acquaintances with whom he could discuss a variety of subjects, sharing his extensive knowledge and exchanging it for theirs. These connections only ran so deep, most never crossing the line into friendship -- but friendship is not what Satan sought. He wanted status, a curated image that placed him firmly in the echelons of the wise and out of the shadows of rage incarnate, out of the shadow of pride.

“Thank you again, Lord Satan. I can’t believe I’ll actually be able to see this scroll for myself!” A lesser demon eagerly walked alongside the Avatar of Wrath, accompanying him through the gates of the Demon Lord’s Castle.

“It’s my pleasure, Thalbus.” Satan gave the other his ever-polite smile. “Cabariel had mentioned multiple times that you were anxious to get a look at it, so I’m glad I can be of assistance.” Here he was, leading one such acquaintance to the Royal Archives housed at the castle. It was a privilege few had, one that Satan treasured greatly. He had been allowed by Lord Diavolo centuries ago to visit the archives as much as he pleased, and he did not let the offer go to waste.

They descend now, traversing through the grand passages of the castle -- both imposing and eerie, some corridors shrouded in darkness while others are aglow with flames. Portraits watched them pass by, whispered -- ‘a new visitor, how quaint’. Upon reaching the door that housed the array of treasured documents and scrolls, Satan whispers an incantation he knows well, the last of the words leaving his lips and turning into a spark of light that traces the intricate pattern carved in stone. With a click, the door opens, and the two walk in -- the door then heavily shutting behind them.

“Here we are.” Satan gestures to the main archive room, lined with towering shelves that nearly reached the domed ceiling. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

“It is, it is!” Thalbus gives him a grin, ever-so-slightly crooked. Clasping his hands together, his eyes scan the magnificent annals of the Devildom. “So … where is that scroll?”

“Impatient, aren’t we?” Satan merely smiles, though he feels the way his jaw wants to clench. “Come, it’s in one of the back rooms.”

Down a few aisles, through an archway, and they now are before a vitrine with a scroll neatly rolled out in full display, the parchment delicate from its age but its fibers intact due to restorative magic. It’s much smaller than one would expect, and thick ink is scrawled across it in ancient demonic tongue -- “The Word of the Regent”.

“Wow,” Thalbus gasps in awe, scuttling closer to the glass to get a good look at the prized artifact. “So it really does exist … “

“That it does.” Ah, what a smug look it was that now graced the Avatar’s features. “It really is fascinating, apparently written by one of the first kings. Many are still trying to decipher it’s more complicated and muddled passages, as it seems to speak of a series of powerful rituals that would grant whoever is able to perform it a great amount of power and wealth. Or, so say the urban legends, the actual validity is still debated and -- “

Satan continues to speak, showing off every bit of knowledge he has on the subject as Thalbus continues to admire the scroll. He gets a few ‘hmms’ and various other one-word acknowledgments in response, which is all he needs to continue his confident rambling. To be in the presence of another demon who understood the splendor of such a relic was refreshing, even if for only selfish reasons in that the Greater Demon could bestow an interested party in all his wisdom.

“Thank you once again, Lord Satan.” Thalbus gestures in great respect, hiding a rather satisfied smile as they both eventually leave the archive chamber. “I am incredibly lucky to have been able to be introduced to you, and to see the scroll for myself! Ah, what a dream come true!”

“Again, you are very welcome.” Picture-perfect smile, a steady gaze. They round a few corners, go down a flight of steps -- the portraits whisper again, “oh my, oh my”. They enter one of the dim passages, steps lost to shadows.

“Um, Lord Satan … forgive me, but is this the way back out?” Thalbus warily speaks up, eyes darting around the dark.

“Oh, no. No, it isn’t.” Satan laughs, shaking his head as a large smile stays plastered on his lips. A fool, the Avatar thinks to himself, he truly takes ME for a fool! How ridiculous, preposterous, outrageous. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice, Thalbus?”

“Pardon me?”

“Adorable, how you think you can feign innocence.” He laughs again, though malice bleeds through his voice this time. With a wave of his hand, the shriek of metal scraping against stone is heard -- a gate closes, and Thalbus now realizes he is trapped in a room with no escape. “So, why don’t you hand it over?”

“Oh … you mean, this?” The lesser demon produces a thin tube from his jacket, cocky grin splitting his lips. “I suppose you’re sharper than I realized. Didn’t think you would pay attention while you kept yapping and yapping.” How courageous, for him to act as if he wasn’t moments away from wrathful consequences, Thalbus would have one think. How utterly foolish, is what Satan knows.

Imperturbable smile still present, the Greater Demon steps closer and moves to snatch the contained scroll from the thief, but Thalbus has decided he’d much rather opt for more severe torment as he moves to hide it again. Were all demons of deceit this imprudent? The flames of wrath begin to grow within -- hotter, deadlier.

“How about we make a deal?” Thalbus tries. “You let me borrow the scroll, and I’ll grant you something in return.”

“Oh?” Satan’s smile widens, but his teeth grow sharper. “A deal you say? Truly, Thalbus, you continue to impress!” He begins to laugh, that laugh that sounded so melodic and cheerful and yet just a hint deranged. Satan tilts his head to the side, his eyes glowing a fierce green in the darkness. “You think that you of all demons can entice me with a deal? Just what could you possibly have to offer ME?” His laughter continues, growing more maniacal as his body continues to shift and distort. His claws grow longer, his tail thrashing about as flesh gives way at parts to bone, green flames tracing up his spine to match the searing verdant flames that now emit from his hollow eye sockets. “Have you forgotten who I am?”

Thalbus does not have time to respond, though the terror now present on every crevice of his being is answer enough. In an instant, claws are at his throat as he is held up against the wall, the sound of metal hitting the stone floor ringing out as the scroll slips from his grasp and rolls into the far corner of the room.

“Ah, looks like you’ve lost your bargaining chip!” There is a distortion to Satan’s voice, a grating echo. “That’s too bad.” His tail goes to flick at Thalbus’ cheek before roughly moving against his flesh, its sharp edges peeling away at his skin to reveal what lay underneath. The lesser demon tries to shriek, only to find no sound leaves him. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”

Satan laughs again, before the claws of his other hand immediately go to grip Thalbus’ jaw, wrenching it open and piercing a claw through his aforementioned muscle. “Oh, guess it’s actually me.” As the lesser demon struggles, Satan can make out a garbled “Please!” as he sees tears leave the other’s eyes.

Please?

PLEASE?

What could this pathetic excuse of a demon, this wretch, this absolute shitstain be thinking that begging “please” would help get him out of this? This situation that he only had himself to blame, for daring to think that he could outwit Satan. The flames that danced atop wrath’s form grew brighter, hotter, larger -- and he unhooks his claw from the demon's tongue to instead grab hold of his jaw once more and rip it clean off his skull. Blood gurgles up and spills from the deceitful demon’s open cavity of a throat, muffling his continued screams which only sounded like music to Wrath’s ears.

Rage overflowed through every fiber of Satan’s being, his mind now clouded and his vision blurred among the inferno. His blood boils as he descends into madness, a flurry of demonic curses escaping through grotesque fangs until words become unintelligible screams that shake the stone walls in his fury.

Idiot, idiot, idiot, IDIOT!

The sharp bony horn that now protrudes from Wrath’s forehead is lowered to skewer an eye, then the other. Piece by piece, Thalbus is torn apart -- claws ripping apart limbs, teeth tearing out his organs, horn impaling muscle, tail grinding bone -- all while the smell of burnt flesh fills the room as flames lick at the remains. The sickening sounds of the lesser demon’s body being completely obliterated fill the otherwise empty chamber, a song of violence.

He is long dead before Satan is finished with him, painting the walls and floor with ichor and tissue and ashes of whatever else comprised the once corporeal form of Cabariel’s duke.

Ah, right. Cabariel …

Deep breath, count to ten … and Satan feels his form shift again, sharp edges folding away as his more human form comes into place. The haze in his mind is gone, the flames put out, the wrath forcibly buried back down as rage subsides. He is himself again, he thinks, for obviously this was who he was and not that beast that had just reared its head.

Yes. Himself.

He walks over to the corner of the room, deftly picking up the nearly stolen artifact. Rage begins to unfurl within him once more, but he must keep it at bay. This problem had been taken care of, disaster avoided. Cabariel would not be pleased to know that he was short a duke, but that was the least of Satan’s worries -- after all, Cabariel should be glad that it wasn’t his throat Satan came for next.

Another look around the room, and a tired sigh leaves the Avatar’s lips. He had purposely lured Thalbus away from the Royal Archives, but still ...

… Barbatos was not going to be pleased.

[imaginativeamateur]

can you do 30 with kakashi and a fem reader pls 🥺🤲 I love your work and am so happy for you regarding your follower milestone, congrats !!

[Kakashi Hatake X Reader] The Power of Love

|200 Followers Event|

Prompt: 30 — "I mean it."

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x fem!Reader

Note: Aloha, I'm back!!! Thanks for the request and the cheers😝 Okay, this one is AHHH, the title :DD This one is very sentimental but playful at the same time. There's like some serious talk but also entertaining moments, too. Without further ado, please enjoy!

Constant requests that you get married were sent in your way for the past several months. Your parents were tired of having to wait to see you bring a man home, but you had no intention to comply. The topic would come up to the table during dinner every now and then, with your mother furrowing in her brows and your father sighing in distress. On your part, you played cool, soothing them that you just found a guy and dismissing the matter with a feigned grin.

Everything would be ordinary, much to your own liking until your parents secretly signed you up for a match-matching service. You had a big argument that night but they smugly smiled and ensured that you would fall in love with him immediately. It was ridiculous.

“You��d be head over heels in no time, Y/N,” your mother said.

“Like she knows who he is,” you mumbled, scoffing on your way back to your apartment.

Though you completely shut the door to the new romance—the guy that you presumably knew nothing about—you woke up earlier than usual, earlier than you should. You blamed it on your neighbor’s child crying but you discerned that you were being irrational. The whole situation was aberrant. You purposefully threw on a pair of jeans and a shirt that was too worn out for a first date. Still, you could not be any more careless, the last thing you wanted was to get the man to generate some form of adoration for you. You checked yourself in the mirror and made sure that you looked representable nonetheless.

The sun was already high up in the sky when you locked your door and tiredly dropped the keys into your handbag, storming to the destination with angry steps. It was your day off and you could have spent your time on something much more meaningful, training, for example. Kakashi-senpai said you still needed to hone your close combat skills. You pursed your lips at the thought of the Hatake, feeling even more enraged and annoyed. The said Shinobi was a nice guy, he was gentle and mannered with everyone but you. He treated you like his kid, bossing you around, requesting you to dig through the shelves of bookstores to find the limited edition of Icha Icha that was recently published. But you did not quit being his subordinate. Kakashi had everything that you needed to harness, from his skills to knowledge, and you would never let such a golden opportunity go wasted.

Being with him for two long years brought you many benefits and visible improvements, one of them being your patience. You were short-tempered and Kakashi was just the perfect tame to your boiling climate. The silver-haired veteran knew you were cantankerous on some days, like today, when you were having an involuntary sunbathing session, and would always be later than he usually would. Over the drenching months, you grew indifferent to his tardiness, adapted to his peculiar conscience of time, and no longer rambled when he arrived. He would come up with the most bizarre excuses to get away with it, and at first, you were furious about it, but you found them somewhat adorable now.

You smiled, wondering why you were recalling your moments with Kakashi when you were waiting for your date to come. You bit the inner side of your cheek when you realized your patience was running thin—it reminded you of your silver-haired senpai. Releasing a shaky breath, you calmed yourself down, assuring that you would apologize to the man that it was merely a misunderstanding with your parents that they signed you up for today. You rubbed the surface of the table with your fingers and let your thoughts carried you away at the moment, unconsciously drumming the rhythm of your favorite song—his favorite song that you grew accustomed to after years of the very special silver-haired occupying your day.

“You seem nervous.”

Your head perked at the unexpectedly familiar voice, “Kakashi-senpai?”

The silver-haired settled himself in the opposite seat with ease, “Good morning, Y/N.”

“What are you doing here?” You did not bother to greet him back properly due to the tremendous shock being registered into your system.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to… to,” you came to a halt, fumbling with the hem of your shirt when you found it impossible to continue. It was embarrassing.

“Blind date?” He questioned, quirking a brow.

Your cheeks heated up in modesty, unable to answer his beseech.

“That seems like a yes,” Kakashi leaned back, enjoying your flustered state, “I’m here for a blind date, too.”

“A what?”

“A blind date,” he repeated without failing to lose his composure.

It took you several seconds to comprehend the whole situation, then you shifted in your chair, propping your elbows onto the table to hide your blush, “This is such an… interesting encounter. But I won’t change my mind.”

You were fairly absolute with the plan to turn the whole thing down, despite whoever was your date, despite it being Kakashi Hatake. You did not want to risk the bond that took you so long to form with him and the trust that he enlisted you upon. You could not.

“I also came resolute,” he made a simple, yet down-to-earth statement. Kakashi caught your eyes and challenged, “What do you want to do after a coffee date?”

“No,” you jerked away, “what are you saying? Are you okay, senpai?”

“We’re on a date and you still call me senpai?”

“Look, we’re not going to do this, we can’t, Kakashi,” you tried to explain but to no avail.

The silver-haired smugly smiled, “Good, Kakashi sounds much nicer.”

“I’m not joking,” you cleared your throat and glared at him.

“Neither am I, Y/N. I mean it.”

Your lips fell apart as the coherence in your mind shattered into bits and pieces. Kakashi silently observed the fleeting expressions that you made, waiting for your response.

“I don’t know,” you stuttered. You knew who Kakashi was and the tragedy of your occupation. The two of you did not deserve anyone’s love, for once that you held the chance of breaking their heart. You looked away from his eyes to conceal the wavering of your emotions, “I never thought about life in that way. I don’t need a man in my life, that’s what I’d like to believe. I don’t want anyone to feel battered when I’m gone.”

“I hate it to see those I love cry and mourn, too,” he mumbled. You listened attentively as though it was yourself confessing to the dark. Kakashi continued, “I only live for a certain amount of time but I have been constantly filling it with despair and loneliness. There were things that I want to do and people that I want to love, but because of my fear of hurting them, I didn’t. But after the massive loss that I’ve experienced, everything was different, I understood how painful regret actually is.”

Tears began to well in your eyes the more his words dropped. You balled your fists, blinking profusely to prevent the warm droplets from escaping. Kakashi noticed your quiet sobs, running his fingers over your trembling hands, loosening your grip, and interlacing your fingers with his. You released a heavy sigh and pulled both your hands back, wiping away your tears as quickly as when they fell and dampened the fabric of your jeans.

“You’re not at the bottom of agony when you lose someone important,” Kakashi breathed, “it’s when you feel empty after they’ve left and mourning on what you could’ve done when they were still with you.”

Your sobs eventually assuaged as you chewed on his words. The silver-haired distracted himself by stirring the liquid of his drink, but he was in no state to enjoy its taste. He already said everything he wanted to say, and the decision was now fully on your shoulders. But by your lack of response, he was sure that you did not see your relationship taking another form—the way that he wished. He abruptly stood up from his seat, fleeting on his feet, “Let’s forget about what’s happened. I mean I still respect you as my teammate, Y/N. Don’t forget our meeting tomorrow.”

“No-no, Kakashi-senpai, wait,” you moved, hastily shoving your hands in his direction, gripping his wrist like a vice. You hung your head low to avoid his investigating gaze as you spoke, “I do.”

His gears in his head turned, and Kakashi smiled with satisfaction, “You do what?”

Your heart was beating frantically in your chest, so fast that you felt its rapid pumps in your throat. You stuttered out, voice growing quieter the more you expressed, “I-I want to go out with you, senpai—”

“Drop the ‘senpai’ already,” he playfully hissed and you grinned, certain that you just made the best choice of your life. Kakashi leaned down and rested his chin on your shoulder blade, snuggling his face into your neck, “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for letting me love you.”

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

Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @thenightfallingstar @iam-gaaras-loveintrest @animepickle7 @tirzamisu @rinnegankakashi

[tyongxnct]

𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 - 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝐿𝑒𝑒

pairing: Mark Lee x reader

summary: Dating Mark Lee was wonderful- until it wasn’t. You were fighting all the time and he hurt you with his words, but this time you had enough. You couldn’t let him hurt you and accept him back whenever he said that he was sorry. You were so sick of letting him hurt you, so sick of him talking about your relationship with others behind your back. He changed so much, you probably did too, but he wasn’t the person you fell in love with anymore.

song: same old love - Selena Gomez

genre: angst, a dash of fluff

warnings: swearing, mention of sex

word count: 2,7k

A/N: this one’s a little short and I hope you enjoy it anyway! 💖 a little spoiler for the last story in my series: back to you won’t be a short fic, it’s going to be a full fic with (currently) over 7k words and I’m not finished yet! If you want to be added to the taglist send me an ask! 🥰

taglist: @alex-chann​, @aesthetichrj​

© tyongxnct on all platforms

Take away your things and go You can't take back what you said, I know I've heard it all before, at least a million times I'm not one to forget, you know

“Leave. Take all of your things and go.”

“No, baby, fuck. I didn’t mean-“ Mark stepped forward and you stepped backwards. It broke his heart. “What? You didn’t mean it? It’s not your first time saying that Mark. I’ve had enough. We’re going in circles, it needs to stop!”

It wasn’t the first time that Mark told you that he’s sick of you and that he wished that he never dated you in the first place.

“I love you, baby. Believe me, I was just angry and-“

“frustrated- I know, it’s always the same excuse Mark. I know that you don’t love me, so please, just leave. Find someone you love and who treats you better, apparently I’m not enough.”

“I do! I do love you! Just hear me out, please!” Mark was crying, you weren’t even crying.

“Why are you crying? I’m letting you go Mark, you don’t have to force yourself to stay with me anymore.” Your heart clenched, your hands formed to fists, nails dug into your soft skin.

“I love you…” he whispered, “I love you so much, please give me one last chance.” He begged. “Did you love me when you told Johnny that I was so annoying? Did you love me when you told Jaehyun that you’re sick of having sex with me, sick of me calling you and texting you? Sick of me asking you about your day and worrying about you? Did you love me when you told Mina, that we aren’t serious? How can you love me when we aren’t even serious?”

Mark looked defeated, “H-how did you-“

“Is that important? You talked to them every time I was with you, you wanted me to hear that. You want me to break up with you because you are a fucking coward.”

“I-I never wanted you to hear that- I just, I don’t know what to say, I’m so sorry, please. I’m begging you, give me one last chance. I love you. I really love you so much, I can’t do it without you. I need you in my life.” Mark wiped away his tears with his hands, but the tears were still rolling down his cheeks.

“I’ll never forget how you treated me, how much you hate me. You made me think it was my fault- that I was the one who destroyed this relationship, but it wasn’t me. It was you, and now, take your things and go. We’re done.” You didn’t allow the tears to fall until you entered the bathroom, closed the door, and locked it.

I don't believe, I don't believe it You left in peace, left me in pieces Too hard to breathe, I'm on my knees Right now

You fell on your knees, your hand was on your mouth, covering your whimpers and sobs. It hurt, you loved him so much it broke you apart. You felt your chest tighten, the pain filled your body and there was nothing you could do to stop the pain.

“I-I love you. So much.” Mark was on the other side of the door, his hand was on the doorknob, he couldn’t hold you anymore, it was over now. Mark was still crying as he held his bag tightly and hoped that you’d open the door and jump in his arms, for one last time.

He could hear you, your sobs were loud, you were never good in hiding your emotions. Your eyes filled with tears and pain. “I’m sorry.” And with that, he walked out of your apartment and left.

You couldn’t breathe, the hand that covered your mouth before, was now holding your chest tightly. Your eyes were wide, were you having a panic attack? The bathroom suffocated you, the walls came closer and closer and you were having a hard time controlling your breathing.

Your curled up and closed your eyes, you tried to think of happy memories. Yeah, you had happy memories with Mark, not just bad memories. The first time you had met him was your favorite memory of him.

I'm so sick of that same old love, that shit, it tears me up I'm so sick of that same old love, my body's had enough I'm so sick of that same old love, feels like I've blown apart I'm so sick of that same old love, the kind that breaks your heart

You’ve met Mark on a blind date your friend had arranged for you almost two and a half years ago. She told you that you were a perfect match and after two weeks of begging you to meet him, you said yes. It wouldn’t hurt right?

“He’s a little bit shy, okay maybe not a little bit, but like, you know, he’s cute you’ll love him.” Your friend said as she helped you with your make up. “I’m shy too! What If we just sit there and don’t talk?” you said worriedly.

“No, he will talk. Maybe even a little too much.”

You looked through the restaurant and looked for the man in blue. The two of you decided to wear a matching color since you still didn’t know what he looked like, and he told you to wear blue because it was his favorite color.

Your gaze met his, and your brain stopped working because he looked so handsome and cute at the same time. Mark’s smile widened as he watched you walk over to him. His palms were sweaty, and he was absolutely nervous.

“Hey, Mark?” you said nervously.

“Yeah, hi. I’m Mark. Wow you’re way prettier than I imagined.” He rambled and you smiled at him shyly. “Oh yeah right.” He got up and helped you with your chair like a gentleman. “Thank you.”

“Uhm, I ordered red wine, but like, if you want to drink something else, like, champagne or something tell me.” He was talking so fast and you could see how nervous he was, just like you.

“No, no. Red wine is totally fine.”

“Yeah, uhm, Minsoo told me that you like red wine, but I thought maybe you’d like to drink something else.” He rambled again. “Am I talking too much? I feel like I’m talking too much.”

“No,” you giggled, “You’re not talking too much don’t worry.”

“That’s good, my friends told me to shut up, but I feel like I can’t stop talking. Did I tell you that you’re really pretty?” Mark didn’t even notice the waiter looking at him with his mouth wide open, “Thank you, Mark. You are very handsome.”

The waiter looked to you and then back to Mark as you and Mark just looked at each other without saying anything. The waiter cleared his throat, “Sir, would you like to order now?”

And after ordering, your night was filled with smiles, giggles, and loud laughs. Mark was so funny and cute the whole time, and when you held his hand, which was resting on top of the table, his cheeks started burning and you just wanted to squish his cheeks.

“You’re so adorable.” You smiled at him shyly. “And you’re so gorgeous.”

You were in front of your apartment, even though you didn’t want the night to end, but it was almost 1 am and you had classes the next day. “I had so much fun tonight, Mark. Thank you so much.”

“Me too. And uhm, I really would love to do it again.” He blushed a little. “Me too. You have my number?”

He nodded and you couldn’t resist, so you tiptoed and kissed his cheek before you entered your apartment, “Good night, Mark.”

I'm not spending any time, wasting tonight on you I know, I've heard it all So don't you try and change your mind 'Cause I won't be changing too, you know

You woke up on the bathroom floor. After crying for hours and trying to calm yourself down, you fell asleep. You fell asleep with a smile on your face, the memories you shared with Mark were beautiful, almost too good to be true. But after everything you’ve been through, you didn’t want to wallow in memories. Even it’s just for one night, you wanted to stop feeling sad and down, you just wanted to be happy and think about yourself first. No more thoughts on Mark’s wellbeing, no more going through pictures of him on your phone and no more texting him that you missed him.

You were determined, your relationship with Mark was over, and he wouldn’t change your mind this time, like he always did. This time, you had enough.

You can't believe, still can't believe it You left in peace, left me in pieces Too hard to breathe, I'm on my knees Right now

“H-Hyung, I just- fuck.” Mark cried into his palms. Johnny knew that your relationship with Mark was about to end, after everything Mark had told him, he didn’t think he’d see his friend crying like this after you broke up with him. “I just can’t believe it, I-I thought that we’d be together forever, no matter w-what.”

“Mark, isn’t this what you wanted?” Johnny asked carefully.

Mark shook his head, “I-I don’t know what I wanted, I only know that I want her b-but she’ll never want me back.”

“You said it yourself though, that you were sick-“

“I know what I said!” he shouted at his friend, “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to shout at you, but like, I know what I said and If I could take it back I would. I just feel so… so empty without her. I think… I think I was scared that she’d stop loving me first and that’s why I pushed her away.”

“That’s literally the dumbest thing you could’ve done.” Johnny sighed.

“She didn’t even cry. S-She looked so, so done. Done with me and done with everything, like she fell apart and it’s all because of me.”

Mark couldn’t breathe, his heart clenched, and he gripped his shirt, everything suffocated him. He remembered your emotionless face and the emptiness in your eyes, and this time it was Mark who was on his knees, having a panic attack.

I'm so sick of that same old love, that shit, it tears me up I'm so sick of that same old love, my body's had enough

I'm so sick of that same old love, feels like I've blown apart I'm so sick of that same old love, the kind that breaks your heart

A couple weeks after your fight with Mark, you found yourself alone at home, an empty bottle of wine next to your empty bed.

He didn’t try to contact you. The only information you had about him was that he stayed with Johnny. Johnny sent a simple text, telling you that he was sorry and that Mark was in safe hands, since he knew, that you after everything still cared for him.

You didn’t cry after the last time you cried. It’s going to be a long journey until you close the big chapter labeled ‘Mark’ and you hoped that it’s going to be a peaceful journey, but after tonight, you weren’t sure if there was a possible future without Mark in it.

Suddenly you heard sounds coming from your door. Didn’t you lock it? Who is trying to get into your apartment? It was past midnight and with a pan in your one hand, you slowly walked to the door.

Of course, it was him. Mark still had your spare key and he forgot to ask for your permission before he entered.

You let out the breath you were holding. “What are you doing here? Did you forget anything?”

Mark looked at you and then at he pan in your hand. “Are you going to hit me with it? I’ll let you do it If you listen to me for just a minute.”

“N-No I’m not going to hit you with. I thought you were a thief.”

You put the pan on top of the little shelf next to your door. “A-Are you scared alone?” he asked you.

The truth is, yes you were. You were scared of being alone, scared of darkness.

“N-No?”

“You don’t have to lie to me, I know that you’re scared. I’m sorry.”

“What are you doing here? I don’t think you came just to ask me If I’m scared.”

“I needed to talk to you, I know it’s late and stuff, but like, yeah I just- I couldn’t sleep nor eat and yeah, I, uhm-“

“Mark you’re rambling.” He reminded you of the time your first started dating, how nervous he was and how he couldn’t stop talking because he hated awkward silence.

“Yeah, I am. Sorry, I just want to talk.”

“I don’t think there is anything to talk about, Mark.” You sighed. “There is. I can’t survive another week without telling you how much you actually mean to me.” He whispered.

“Mark I really don’t want to do this-“

“Please, just one minute. Just one minute.” He held your hand, and you didn’t push away. You missed his touch. “Fine. Just one minute.”

“First of all, I love you. I really do. Since the second I saw you enter that restaurant, I knew that I loved you and I can remember how much of an idiot I was, like, the entire night, but you still kissed me goodbye on the cheek and my heart was about to explode. I thanked Minsoo so much and I still thank her for introducing you to me. I was like, a blind date? How’s that going to work? And it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I know I pushed you away, I was an asshole and I hurt you so much, but I’m an insecure, stupid pussy and I can’t believe I had you, but then I let you slip through my fingers. I didn’t know how to hold your hand and I didn’t know how to make clear, that I need you. The things I told the others, I don’t think that I was actually complaining because If I think about it now, my heart flutters and I can feel the butterflies in my belly jumping around. You cared about me like no one else did and I missed you so much, I just can’t lose you. Your my first and only love, I don’t want anyone but you.”

You were crying, he was crying, Johnny was probably at home crying too.

“M-Mark…” you whimpered, you didn’t know what to say.

“P-Please just give me a chance to gain your love and t-trust back.” He wiped your tears away with his soft hand.

“I’m… I’m so sick of being hurt, I’m so sick of it, Mark. I can’t take anymore pain, I’m so sick of suffering and not being loved, I-I just want to be loved. You h-hurt me so much the past months, I don’t think my body and soul can handle it I-If I go through that again…” you sobbed.

“You won’t need to- Baby, I promise you, I’ll never ever treat you like that again. I won’t let you suffer, not again. I love you I love you so much. I love you please believe me, I love you.”

Mark wrapped his arms around you as you cried into the crook of his neck. He repeated over and over again that he loved you as you both cried together, arms wrapped around each other and hearts connected again.

“One last chance, and if you fuck up again, you’ll never get to see my face again.” You whispered.

“I won’t fuck up, I promise you. The days without you were torture. Being without you is torture.”

“C-Can we take it slow, Mark? I feel like… I feel like if we rush things you’ll get sick of me again…” you were scared that giving him another chance was a mistake.

“No, no baby. Don’t ever think that again, okay? We can take it slow if you want that, but I don’t want you think that I’ll get sick of you, I could never. Being away from you was so hard, I don’t want that to happen ever again.” Mark pressed his lips on your temple.

“Okay…”

“Do you want to go on a date with me? Are you free on Friday?” he asked you and you chuckled.

“I’m not sure, I have to check my schedule.” You teased him.

“Babe…” Mark whined.

“I’m just joking.”

[washymylifeaway]

Haikyuu fanfic recs but with trash commentary

Hi.... Yea okay um I don’t have an excuse as to why this is coming out instead of any of my other planned lists hahhahah. Moving on. The comments are like sorta fic based but also not.... Ignore them. Enjoy?

As always, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for fics before reading and make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) Stay healthy loves <3

Rainbow Veins by bokkuroo (T) 11.6k /BokuAka/ TW DEATH! Some bokuaka angst for you all. Honestly, I had a whole different plot in my brain during the first couple of paragraphs, but it didn’t come true :( It’s okay though, I still felt pain :’)

Knock on wood by Qitana (G) 9.2k /BokuAka/ morse code! It’s cool and idk how it works, but it made for a great plot :D I’d be a bit careful on this one, there’s a hospitalization for an injury! Like the writer wanted, yes I was hit with the feels :’)

close up, close in by yoogiboobi (E) 16.4k /SunaOsa/ I’ve fallen back into my SunaOsa hell, but it’s okay. Leave me here with motorcycle Osamu and leather jacket Osamu. I might just fight Suna for a piece of his man :) WARNING, SMUT!

you never have to wander, wonder by sieges (T) 23k /SunaOsa/ like I said. I fell. But I really love this one and it made me wonder if I should just make a SunaOsa list before finishing my other lists. Obviously, I should finish them. But should I? (ignoring the off topic ramble, I really love this one!)

simple fact by bastigod (T) 7.4k /SunaOsa/ really. that SunaOsa list is looking very nice (except for the fact I have to write a sht ton of commentary if I make it, which I dun wanna do rn :))))) But I love the ending of this one, and I’m a bit of a sucker for the Osamu not loving Omi agenda (though it is nice when he does, it adds a bit of ~spice~ when he doesn’t LOL).

i’ll face down the world with you by bastigod (T) 14.1k /SunaOsa/ ngl VERY surprised I haven’t recommended this one yet. Like really wtf am I on cause it’s not the right sht. Check the tags and warnings cause it, well,,, assassination.

Intertwined by Anubis_2701 (T) 25.8k /SakuAtsu/ ugh this one was so good I was wondering how I forgot to recommend it. Love the soulmate AU and although I’m not a big fan of body switching stuff, it was worth the read!

Read The Receipt by hhhhhhhappycow (G) 6.6k /SakuAtsu/ another where I was genuinely confused cause I haven’t recommended it yet. I went wtf when I was looking for it and yeah.

the fine line between family and a cup of coffee by tinyttree (G) 3.6k /SakuAtsu/ UGH WHOLESOME,,,, it’s just an interaction between an anxious child and their future brother-in-law.

lo and behold by tirralirra (T) 5k /SakuAtsu/ sjafdhaljdfh WARNING DEATH AND OPEN ENDING, but this also made me SO FREAKING SAD omg. Also, it takes the POVs of both Osamu and Omi, so while it’s kinda SakuAtsu in the second one, it’s brotherly love in the first :’((( But the open ending just makes it so :’(((

Extraction by TwilaFrost (M) 2.8k /SakuAtsu/ the tags,,,, they say enough LOL. I love doctor Omi and well.... Atsumu,,, his role is questionable in this one LOL. Er,,, the summary kinda gives it away but um.... Just read it.

you're made of memories you bury or live by by tirralirra (T) 24.8k /SakuAtsu/ because I can’t not recommend angst, here is angst LOL. This one is really sad and deals with amnesia but it’s written very well!

but we're not, like, in love by eidilechsi (E) 17.3k /SakuAtsu/ CAUTION FOR sexual content, but this is an absolute CRACK fic. I LOVED THIS FIC AHHAHDHAHSJ. I couldn’t stop laughing throughout the entire fic (I had to take breaks to catch my breath I’m not even kidding) and the EXASPERATION. OMG. I felt so bad for everyone around them cause I wanted to smack them on the head. Imagine onigiri being your foundation for understanding love. PLEASE, this was an amazing fic.

can we always be this close (forever and ever?) by lunarumbra (G) 3.1k /umm MiyaFour/ Osamu is doing the most interrogating Omi and it’s a great plot, just like Suna’s abilities ;) (also there’s a second fic which I also adore :D)

to heretics and their devotions by honeybakedgrace (series) 16.3k /MiyaFour/ more assassination but it fails. And then fake killing. Cause why not? But I really recommend reading both cause it’s a continuation :) CHECK TAGS AND WARNINGS!

Thin Sand by shiro_yuu (T) 20.2k /KuroAka/ is that their ship name? idk but you know, I love medical AUs and angst. So combination with some amnesia sprinkled on top :’) This one is for you rare pair lovers :D

K-Cup Coffee Verse by situational_irony_13 (series) 40k /multi/ um guys I love this series. Like love love this series. I adore professor AUs and like every single fic in this series is one I would read over and over again.

lined with kohl by entrechat (series) 13k /multi/ um Suna + eyeliner. That’s the series. I got nothing else to say other than read it and there’s a poly in here :D

Yes. Um if you’re wondering, these are just fics I’ve read/reread recently or ones that popped into my head randomly while making this! Also those which I’ve counter recommended because I lack self-control :) Trying to change the tide by convincing you all that I’m in love with SunaOsa, but with the sheer number of SakuAtsu in this, I think I’ve failed :’) (But that’s okay, I’m just in the process of convincing myself this is okay. I live for the SakuAtsu recs from all of you <3)

[isolemnlyswearpevensie]

And This Is How It Starts | Susan Pevensie x Reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: Slight homophobia, shitty friends???

Time/Era: Modern AU

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: Everything your soulmate loses, you receive. Turns out, Y/N’s soulmate is very forgetful. 

Request: helloo. can you write a sapphic susan fic please! take it whatever way you'd like :)

A/N: I’m not sure how many people read Susan fics, but I really like this one :D

masterlist | narnia playlist | read on ao3

“Gross, can you guys please cut it out?” Y/N stated, watching her best friend suck faces with her soulmate. She was on his lap and their make out session was starting to grow more intense than Y/N was comfortable with. Hannah pulls away from Alex with an exaggerated groan. 

“You’re just jealous you’re still stuck in the ‘lose it and receive it’ phase. Not my fault you haven’t found him yet.” Her voice was light and teasing, but Y/N couldn’t help but fell her heart rip. 

“I’ll find her eventually,” Y/N sighed, taking a book out of her schoolbag. It was a small, very beat-up copy of The Hunger Games. 

“Her?” Alex responded, tearing his gaze from Hannah’s face. “How do you know it’s a her?” 

Y/N opened the book delicately to reveal “Susan Pevensie” written in perfect cursive on the back of the front cover. The book had multiple stains on it, most likely tea judging by the color, and the same perfect cursive riddled the pages. Whoever Susan was, she adored this book with her life. Y/N’s fingertips lightly traced the writing before turning the book for her friends to see. Hannah scrunches her face at it. 

“It could be his friends, you know. Like she lent it to him and he lost it,” Alex kisses Hannah’s cheek. 

“Or this Susan girl is his girlfriend,” Hannah smirks.

“Or,” Y/N was growing frustrated. Whenever she hinted that her soulmate might be a girl, everyone dismissed her suspicions. “My soulmate is Susan Pevensie and she keeps losing her things. And besides, this book is really loved, she wouldn’t just give it to someone.” 

Hannah scoffed, tossing her hair in a very I know everything, and you don’t kind of way. “Fine, believe what you want. Not sure why you would want a girl soulmate anyway, I know I wouldn’t.” 

“Well, yeah, of course you don’t. You’re straight,” Y/N flipped to a random page and read the gorgeous handwriting that was scrawled in the margins. Her mouth twitched slightly at how perfect the script was. 

“What? And you aren’t?” 

“No, I’m not.” Y/N’s eyes didn’t move from the page as she spoke. The teens sat in silence. “Is there a problem?” 

“No! No, of course not,” Alex answered quickly. ‘I guess we just, uh, didn’t expect it… I guess.” 

“Well, surprise. Now that that’s out of the way, do you guys like The Hunger Games?” 

The two grew even more uncomfortable at the sudden tension they were feeling. “No, not necessarily.” 

“She seems to. A lot. And there’s a cute little strawberry bookmark on page 47,” Y/N sighed dreamily picturing what Susan must look like. Based on her cursive alone, she must be absolutely jaw-dropping. 

“Has, er, Susan lost anything else recently?” Alex asked. Y/N nodded excitedly, digging in her bag again. She pulled out a set of keys with a feather pendant keychain, a light pink lipstick, a glass water bottle, and a small fabric coin purse. Y/N grinned down at the items then looked back towards her friends. 

“Oh, she must be quite forgetful. Do you have any other stuff?” Y/N’s grin brightened even more. 

“Oh, loads, this is just what she’s lost within the past week,” The keys jingled as she moved her hands. “The keys must’ve really ruined her day. I wonder what they’re to.” 

“Hopefully somewhere in England. Where’s the money from?” Hannah gestured to the yellow coin purse. Y/N shrugged and tossed it towards her friends. It was rather small, barely the size of Y/N’s palm, and it had a gorgeous diamond quilt pattern. 

“No clue. I haven’t opened it if I’m being quite honest.” Alex’s noble fingers undid the clasp and looked inside. 

“Well, it’s definitely British currency, which is helpful.” He tipped the pouch and emptied the contents into his hand. As expected, a variety of different coins came toppling out, along with a folded piece of paper and various pins. “Can I have this?” 

“No, you cannot have my soulmate’s belongings. Give me that,” Y/N grabs ahold of all the bag and its contents. With her hand cupped like a funnel, the pins and money fall smoothly into the coin purse. Y/N discards the pouch into her bag and begins to unfold the paper. 

She had expected the paper to be riddled with text, like a to-do list or a small reminder. Instead, it appeared to be a little photograph of a family. The paper itself seemed to be fragile as if it had been handled a lot or had gotten wet, so Y/N handled the photo with care. 

The scene depicted the smallest of the group, a little girl, giggling up at the oldest as the other two looked on with large smiles. Y/N turned the photo to look at the back, just in case any date was included with the photo. In the same gorgeous script as the book, Lucy laughing at Peter because Ed insulted him “in the name of justice.” June 15  was written in black ink. Y/N turned the picture over frantically and scanned the faces of the family. 

Susan was absolutely beautiful; her dark brown hair was styled in effortless waves and her lips were painted with a cherry red color. Her eyes were wrinkled in the corners, due to her contagious smile, and she looked like she was filled to the brim with happiness. Y/N had never seen such gorgeous baby blue eyes. 

The poor girl was speechless, her mind running a mile a second and vision focusing on only Susan’s portrait. 

“She’s gorgeous,” Y/N murmured breathlessly. 

“Who is?” 

Y/N looked up at her friends, turning the photo to show them. 

“Susan, my soulmate.” 

~ 

Susan read over the essay that sat in her lap, taking in every detail of the writing. It wasn’t hers, but it was her soulmate’s misplaced homework. The topic wasn’t overly exciting, an analysis of a book Susan hasn’t read, but just the way her soulmate wrote captivated her. Y/N L/N, which was the name written on the top of the paper, had such a poetic way of writing. It was as if she was telling Susan a story, rather than writing about an 18th century novel. 

“Reading the essay again, are we?” Peter snickered from next to her. Susan would have hit him with the paper, but she didn’t want to risk damaging it. 

“Yes, what’s the problem with that?” 

“Nothing, Su, I just don’t think rereading missing homework is going to bring Y/N any closer to you. It’s over a year old.” Peter had found his soulmate when he was young, so he didn’t quite understand his siblings’ desire to find their other halves so quickly. 

“Not physically, but I already know a lot about her from this one paper. I know her handwriting, how she talks, the way she feels about some things…” 

“Yeah, how she feels about classic literature. Not exactly groundbreaking.” Peter sunk deeper into the couch cushion in an attempt to get comfortable. 

“Maybe not to you, but to me it is. You don’t have to be such a happiness drain, you know.” Susan was growing more frustrated by the minute. She didn’t want her older brother to snatch the paper away from her, so she gently creased it and placed it into her notebook. 

“I’m just taking the piss.” 

“Well, it’s not funny. And shouldn’t you be doing your wash? We leave for school tomorrow.” Susan stood up, lifting her bag off of the floor and onto her shoulder. 

“Yes, alright mother.” 

~

“Y/N! Are you coming?” Hannah hollered over her shoulder. She was walking towards the train station with a large group of her friends. Y/N waved her off. 

“I’ll meet you there! Save me a seat, yeah?” Hannah shrugged her off and continued the conversion she was more invested in. 

Y/N sighed, watching their backs disappear into the distance. She never quite liked the group Hannah was friends with, so them leaving her out never quite bothered her. Especially when she could get sandwiches for the train ride. 

The teen was waiting at a crosswalk when she spotted her. Susan was stood at the newspaper stand outside of the corner store Y/N was going to. She looked stunning as she flipped idly through a Vogue magazine. The sun shone across her hair and Y/N thought she looked similar to an angel. 

When the light turned green, Y/N scurried across the street in order to meet her love. However, she paused a few paces away to steady her breathing. 

“Excuse me, are you Susan Pevensie?” Y/N spoke, voice shaking. Susan turned around, utterly confused. Y/N was right in her assumption; Susan was in fact an angel. An angel that looked even more heavenly in person. 

“Yes, and may I ask who you are? And how you know my name?” 

“Oh, right, um I’m Y/N L/N. I’m not sure if you know who-” Susan’s eyes widened and she couldn’t help but cut Y/N off. 

“You’re my soulmate.” Her red lips were slightly agape as she took in Y/N’s appearance. “Excuse my bluntness, but you’re even prettier than I imagined.” 

Y/N’s cheeks grew hot and her fingers fumbled with the buckles on her bag. She was much more nervous than she had hoped, but Y/N couldn’t help it. Once the bag was open, she gripped Susan’s possessions and held them out. 

“You need to keep better track of your things, love.” Susan’s perfectly manicured fingers brushed Y/N’s as she took back her book and keys. Y/N’s legs felt like jelly. 

“How could you possibly know what I looked like?” 

“You lost a picture of your family. Well, I suppose a coin purse with a picture folded inside. Still, a picture was lost and I saw it.” Y/N rambled, making Susan giggle. “I’ve been looking for you for ages,” 

“And I you, darling.” Susan placed her belongings into her bag and embraced Y/N. Y/N didn’t quite know what to do; Susan smelt of rose petals and honey and her hair was so soft as it brushed against Y/N’s cheek. All the same, Y/N wrapped her arms loosely around Susan’s waist. 

“Am I allowed to kiss you?” She whispered into Y/N’s ear. Y/N could have fainted on the spot, but she squeaked out a small yes. 

Susan kept her arms wrapped around Y/N’s neck as she kissed her gently. Y/N’s thumbs danced across the floral patterned fabric that covered her hips as she kissed back. It was light and fleeting, but it still made Y/N feel like she was going to burst. The pair pulled away and looked into each other’s eyes. Susan’s were even bluer in person. 

“Can I buy you a sandwich?” Y/N croaked, cutting the tension. Susan giggled happily. 

“As long as you let me cover the dessert.” 

[grimoire-of-seven]

a slow dance?

PROMPT :: Dance Me Into A Stupor

Rating: SFW || Barbatos’ Warning: Out-of-context spoiler for Belphie’s prompt

Words: 250-400 words per character

Characters: Demon brothers + MC / Gender-neutral Reader

Notes: This isn’t… my usual quality of writing but please be patient with me! I’m running late on a few school deadlines so I’ve crammed this a bit to keep up with the schedule. I hope everyone still liked this! And I’ll do my best on the next prompts (ಥ﹏ಥ)

LUCIFER

“So…”

“So…?” You asked, eyes staring at Lucifer’s for inquiry. 

The two of you were on a firm waltz hold, the closed position led by the Avatar of Pride stood strong and proud in the middle of the ballroom. Diavolo’s lavish parties never get old in this part of Devildom.

You absolutely love attending such events, considering that a certain someone is always wearing those stylish high-class suits. So form-fitting and deliciously snug on the–

“Well,” Breaking character from his usual calm facade, the ravenet broke off eye contact with you, his voice laced with… guilt? “I suppose an apology is past overdue…?”

You blinked once.

Twice.

“Apology for what?” 

He started at you for a few moments, bewildered at the nonchalant answer. 

“My behaviour from our first dance, during the third day of the retreat in Lord Diavolo’s castle.” He explained briefly, the following words were chosen carefully, “I was quite concerned for my brothers’ well-being that I threatened you.”

Oh, that…

“You weren’t threatened at all, were you?” Lucifer grinned at you with a seemingly concerned face. 

“I probably was,” You replied, but then sheepishly lowered your gaze in embarrassment, “But then I forgot about it.” 

The dark-haired demon shook his head in affection, “What am I going to do with you..?” 

MAMMON

Dances… aren’t really your thing. The first time you’ve danced with a demon here in Devildom, Lucifer was whisking you away with an unnaturally strong hold and whispering death threats above your head. 

It’s the kind of thing that makes you not want to participate in the waltz. Ever.

That is, until Mammon, all in his glorious demon-form, walked up to you with that adorable blushing face. For a moment, he stood still. Hesitation is visible in his face and it seemed that he was struggling in forming cohesive sentences.

Does he want to…?

“W-Well, if ya a-ain’t got a partner like the loser Levi is, the Great Mammon is still w-willing to spare his first dance with ya.” He said to you, forcing out the words from his mouth. 

Still…? 

As if you can say no to Mammon’s roundabout way of inquiry. “I’d love to dance with you, Mammon.”

“Y-Yeah, of course ya do.” The Avatar of Greed huffed, offering his hand, “U-Unlike last time when… when Lucifer’s got all buddy-buddy with ya as if his stinky ass’ got a pact with ya.”

“Oh…” So that’s what this is about… With a slight giggle, you positioned yourself infront of him at a standard waltz hold, “If it’s any consolation… I was hoping to have my first dance with you, back then.”

Processing your statement, he remained silent and eyes were as wide as the full moon seen from the hall. The white-haired demon’s expression changed from surprise to doubt to happiness within a split second. 

“Really?” He breathed out in disbelief, searching your visage for any trace of a lie.

“Yes.”

“Are ya tellin’ the truth?” Mammon’s grip on your hands tightened, as if he doesn’t want to let go, “Like, really???”

He laughed, a genuine one in a long time, and waltzed you onto the dancefloor all night long. 

LEVIATHAN

Hand in hand with Levi, the two of you shared a moment under the moonlight as Lucifer forced the two of you ‘loners’ into participating at the festivities. 

Levi kept his eyes down, seemingly more interested in the floor than dancing with you. 

You can’t really fault him. Lucifer had dragged the whole house with him to this ball, and it was evident that the Avatar of Envy did not like the plan one bit. 

You opened your mouth to break the ice but was cut short by the purple-haired demon, “Man, Asmo took the time to dress you up but your clothes are still all super long.” 

“It can’t be helped.” You shook your head with a smile. 

At least Levi is also trying to make conversation, rather than completely sulking at the situation you’re both in. 

“We didn’t have the time to have it altered.”

“You know, in one of my favourite shoujo anime, ‘I’m a Cafe Maid But It’s A Top Secret Because I Am The Emperor’s Daughter Who Ran Away From My Responsibilities Because My Dad Is Forcing Me To Marry’,” He started rambling, a slight blush peppered his pale skin, “There’s a part where the princess slips on her dress and one of her suitors, a NEET gaming-addict who is also a shut in and doesn’t have any friends except for his pet fish, caught her and it’s so romantic–”

He stopped mid-sentence, foot slipping at the excessive amount of cloth on your fur coat. 

“Woah, careful, Levi!” You caught him, one hand cradling him by the shoulders and the other stabilizing him from the small of his back to avoid a sudden fall. Levi held on to you for support, momentarily paralyzed.

“.…!” He met your worried gaze, his face heating up at your closeness and the warmth of your arms surrounding him. 

“Are you okay?” You asked, holding him tight liken of a fragile porcelain vase that will shatter if you let him fall, “Did you hurt yourself?”

“I-I-I-I’m fine…” 

Little did you know, his mind was already racing at the possibilities of him being in a shoujo anime with him as the princess and you as his knight and shining armour. 

SATAN

Liken of a true gentleman that he is, Satan offered you his hand at the waltz the moment Lord Diavolo ended his speech. He brought you to the middle of the dance floor, leading you with graceful movements - with a fiery spark in his eyes. It’s as if the blonde is showing off his skills to everyone in Devildom. 

Weird…

From the corner of your eyes, you saw Lucifer dancing, almost as gracefully, with a rather alluring witch. 

Ah, Satan’s as competitive as usual, you thought to yourself, forcing yourself to not roll your eyes at the realization. That would be rude.

With his usual grin, he spoke, “You look amazing. The clothes Asmo picked for you fits you perfectly.”

E-Excuse me, what?

“T-Thank you.” You nodded politely at his words, feeling the rush of your blood on your cheeks.

Satan held you closer, whispering sensually by your right ear, “Your scent is different tonight, too. Something… mysterious.”

Woah–! “Aren’t you…”

The Avatar of Wrath dropped his tone, the type that sent chills down your spine, “You smell delicious–”

“Okay, what gives, Satan?” You pouted at his mischief, shoving him ever so slightly to regain what was left of your personal space. “What’s with all the super specific comments?”

He laughed with great amusement, surprised that you caught on to his jeers quite fast, “I get to see your pretty blushing face.”

“Not fair!”

“I’m not lying, though.” Satan’s expression changed, his visage now conveying a much more genuine smile, “I wanted to show you off to everyone, all in your blushing glory.”

ASMODEUS

Ever since the party started, Asmo hasn’t left your side. Much to Mammon’s absolute horror, the Avatar of Lust has kept his arms around your own all throughout the ceremonies. 

He has been flirting with you the whole night with his usual string of compliments. 

‘Your eyes gleam whenever you see him, as if there’s a galaxy bursting within them.’ 

‘Your lips were absolutely alluring, he’d spend hours kissing you and appreciating them as much as he could.’ 

‘The way your clothes fit your frame so delicately that he wants to ravish you while you–’ 

It was embarrassing to hear, given that there’s eight of you on the table and the peach-haired demon did not consider lowering his tone. Everyone in the table most definitely heard his soft yet aggressive comments. 

It never stopped even until the two of you were dancing together in the waltz. Asmodeus held you in a firm hold, his natural beauty has always struck you whenever he’s this close, “Aren’t our clothes absolutely stunning?”

“They are, Asmo.” You smiled at him, only now do you ever feel the butterflies on your stomach at his words. “Your eye for beauty is unmatched.”

“Of course!” He swayed with you gracefully, his aura of sensuality piercing through the roof at the sight of him in his three piece suit, “This is a special night, I wouldn’t pass off the opportunity to show you off to the whole of Devildom!”

“That is so like you.”Giggling at his comment, you allowed yourself to finally relax and take in his praises. This intimacy is so much better than the earlier situation at the table. 

“Come on, honey, give me a graceful twirl~” Asmo beamed at you, leading you into a twirl step with much finesse. 

“And again!”

Wait-

“And again!”

“No-!” Feeling dizzy and slightly nauseous at the repeated spin, you tripped on your own shoes and find Asmodeus holding you stable. Sighing at the charming demon’s whims, you shook your head with a smile, “Asmo, this is a slow dance not tango.”

BEELZEBUB

The night is still young yet you sought refuge on the balcony, silently watching the moon from a nearby bench. Nights in the Devildom are often colder than the ones in the human world… 

But then again, after months of staying here, how do you compare when traces of the human world get lost in your grasp every moment you spend down here?

You imagine the contrast of the bright sun during summers above and the dim light everyday here in–

“You look like you’re lost in thought.” A voice pulled you from your own thoughts, your head moving ever so slightly to confirm the person who joined you on the balcony.

It’s Beel.

“Ah, well…” You shrugged, rubbing your arms to stave a bit of the chill in the air, “I’m just a bit exhausted from socializing. Formal parties aren’t my thing.”

“It isn’t my thing, too.” The red-haired demon peeled off his coat, gently putting it over your shoulders and sat beside you, “I can’t eat all the food on the table. Lucifer is glaring daggers every time I try. He’s telling me that we’re representing Lord Diavolo’s name so I have to behave.”

You chuckled at his words. Lucifer sounds so much like a father to his siblings. 

“We’ll get you some food at home. I’ll cook you some homemade–”

“Do you want to dance?” The Avatar of Gluttony asked you, the sounds of the orchestra from behind the two of you suddenly registering in your mind at the offer.

“What?” 

He wants to dance? 

“It’s just the two of us here…” He stated, holding out his hand towards you, “We can take it slow so you won’t get exhausted.”

You held his coat closer to you, the corners of your lips curling up at the saccharine proposal. “You’re too sweet, Beel.”

You took his hand.

BELPHEGOR

Despite the rough beginnings of your relationship with him, he tried his best to mend and gain your trust - this time, genuinely. 

He’s always been so sweet yet there’s always a distance he’s kept whenever he’s with you. You can’t fault him. Perhaps the guilt of his past actions is always at the back of his mind… 

You wanted to help him get past this. And the solution to your questions is today’s dance. 

It’s your first dance with Belphegor. 

Everything has been laid out perfectly in your mind. You’ll talk to him about it, he’ll answer you honestly and your relationship with him will be a lot stronger than before. Quite Disney-esque but you had to try.

That is… until he declared something that slipped your mind. 

“I want to sleep.” He groggily announced, your dance slowing down much more sluggish than the actual tune of the waltz. 

“Belphie, come on.” You tried to alert his senses a bit, hoping that he won’t sleep on you, literally, while the music is playing. “It’s Lord Diavolo’s birthday, we have to participate.”

The ravenet yawned, his hands slipping from yours, “The orchestra is playing lullabies, how can I not…”

“Stay with me!” With all your might, you tried to support Belphie’s weight, looking around to see something that would wake him up.

“Look, even Mammon is hitting it up on the dance floor…” Is he fucking dancing dougie… on a damn waltz?! This isn’t a dance battle, Mammon!!!

Scandalized at his inappropriate dance to a waltz, you shrugged it off, “Okay, we’re not watching him.” 

“You’re as soft and warm as a pillow.” Belphie rubbed his head against yours, his body now shamelessly draped over yours while you struggled to lead him to the dance.

“D-Don’t you think this is a bit too close for a formal dance, Belphie?”

“Mnn…”

Very heavy!

[exosmuttytalk]

Guardian

Characters: Do Kyungsoo, unnamed female OC (told from the perspective of DO)

Genre: angst.

Rating: mature.

Warning: this deals with topics darker than my usual. Death, suicide and mental health problems mentioned. Proceed with caution and take care!

Summary: there is no summary because the core happening of the story is what makes it as a whole, so you gonna have to read to find out lol

(excuse weird formating, I'm on mobile)

First thing I noticed the moment after you quietly stepped through the front door were the deepest dark circles I'd ever seen rimming your eyes.

Your eyes had always been beautiful. Big and bright, they usually shone with a mischievous spark of intelligence and expressivity. Many times I looked at you and wondered how it was me who became the actor when you seemed able to tell stories with your eyes. On the rarer occasion, your eyes also warned me of the times you slipped closer to your darker-than-reality inner world, that one you were able to scape from when you were barely older than a teenager, through sheer will, family support and a necessary dose of drugs to balance your neurotransmitters. But the longer we were together, the more fulfilled your professional life became, the better relationships you held with other people, the more you enjoyed your hobbies, the more seldom I got to see those hints of sadness barely concealed behind fake content smiles.

This time was not one of those rare times. This time, when I looked at you, I felt genuine fear for you.

This time, your eyes did not show sadness. They didn't even look tired. They were just...completely indifferent. They glossed over our living room and didn't even acknowledge my presence, although I had occupied my usual spot at the armchair for quite a few hours already. 

Greetings weren't exchanged either. 

I vaguely remembered last night's fight. Even though we used to pride ourselves in the fact that communication was easy for us, daily life, stress fuelled by our jobs and our inability to sometimes see each other as often as we wanted would put a strain on any relationship. But we always managed to solve those issues. They were never such a big deal for us. Or were they? 

As you carelessly dropped your oversized folder on top of the dining table, I remembered about the project you needed to hand in at the end of this week. 

"How did they like the design this time?" My question was aimed towards finding out what may have caused the icy expression in your eyes. You adored your job at the firm you and some colleagues had set up a few years after you finished your architecture studies. You never missed an opportunity to  ramble on and on about what was your life's passion project; even though most of the times I wasn't able to follow every explanation, I was always happy to listen. 

Not this time. You turned on your heels swiftly and walked into the kitchen, followed closely by Jackie, but leaving me behind with my unanswered question. 

Was it bad enough to deserve this silent treatment? 

I could hear you rummaging through the shelves and then I saw you making your way back to the living room, Jackie swiftly walking behind you. You always cradled Jackie for a little while before opening the can of delicious cat food that would go into her plate. You absolutely adored that little rescue cat and the feeling was mutual; a relationship I had never been able to partake in. But this time, you simply dumped the contents of the can into the bowl and gave the animal a absentmindedly pat on the head. You didn't even look at her. 

After that, you lied down across the sofa in the same clothes you'd gone to work in and pulled out your phone and headphones. That made me wonder where my own phone could be. I was always aware of my terrible memory even if there were more pressing issues at hand. Headphones were covering your ears just seconds after and I was left there, silently wondering what the hell was wrong. 

Maybe you'd had a truly awful day at work? Maybe you were overworked and needed to rest? Could you actually be that mad at me? I truly don't remember what I said, but whatever it was, I'm so sorry. 

As I got lost in my thoughts, Jackie had already finished her food and, after grooming herself a bit, she hopped onto the sofa and nestled herself up against your belly. That was the only moment I saw you react. You briefly glanced down from your screen to the cozy creature in your lap. But you didn't smile. You didn't pet her. But I got to see your eyes and there was no indifference in them no more. They were miserable. 

I was so scared, baby. I had never seen you so unresponsive and distressed in all our years together. From experience, I knew better than to try to touch you in some instances, so I went for the second best option. I got up and rushed down the hallway to our room, where I supposed I had left my phone. It was time to call your mother, your best friend, whoever was around you when you first had an outbreak. They would know what to do better than me.

I had barely started looking around when I heard the door bell ring. Then I heard it again, insistent. I stopped on my tracks and listened, expecting you to go get it, as you were closer. By the third time, the visitant had switched to knocking and I guessed you weren't able to hear it due to the headphones, so I turned around and rushed back to the front door. 

I peeked through the peephole and felt a rush of relief when I recognised your best friend. Bless her soul, she may actually have some sort of mental connection with you. 

"It's Sarah!" I shouted in your direction, getting no response back. Just before she knocked for a second time, I reached out for the door knob. The door didn't open. I stared at the door knob in confusion. It was the same piece of silver metal that had been attached to that door since we first got the apartment together years ago. The same familiar and innocuous whatnot I made use of every single day. Maybe it was stuck? 

Once again, I reached for it, although this time I was intently watching my right hand. 

My fingers. 

They went right through the knob. As if it wasn't actually there. As if it wasn't even corporeal. 

The impression made me fall down on my butt, but I didn't have time to process anything, as Sarah gave a final loud bang to the door and shouted. 

"I know you're there. You either open yourself or I'll call the police" 

The threat finally made you stand up and go open the door. From my position down on the floor, I could see how you were easily able to grab onto the doorknob to at last let her in. Being sort of your polar opposite on that regard, Sarah immediately latched on to your neck and you stoically responded by patting her back with one of your hands. As for me, I stared at my own hands in disbelief. 

What the fuck was going on!? Could I be dreaming? I tried pinching myself hard and I felt it hurt, but nothing else happened. I was freaking out and seeing both of you in front of me behave in such a mellow way only increased my alarm. 

Of course, Sarah lead the way to the kitchen, pulling your arm and stepping right beside me as if I wasn't having a straight up meltdown down at the floor. Jackie had trotted behind you to the hall and was now looking straight at me with what seemed to me a full of disdain expression. At least someone recognised my presence. 

"When was the last time you ate?" Sarah's usually loud voice came booming from the kitchen. This question was odd enough to spark my interest, so I stood up and headed that way. 

"Yesterday," you responded in a monotone voice. 

Sarah, who had started stocking up plastic boxes full of already prepared food in the freezer, turned around to look at you with an eyebrow raised. 

"You sure about that?" 

"Yeah. Also, there's no point in that, I'm not even hungry," you answered again before turning around to occupy the spot you'd left at the couch. 

To be fair, she had filled the sad looking fridge with at least a week worth of meals for two. Was the fridge that empty last time I checked? 

"Baby, you can't be doing this to yourself."

"I'm not doing anything, OK?" you suddenly snapped back at her. I had never heard you speak to her in that tone. "I am fine and I will be fine. I just need you all to leave me the fuck alone!"

With that said, you went back to adjusting the headphones over your head and to rummaging through your phone. Sarah stared at you with a dispared look on her face.

"And you know that is definitely not healthy. I am done with this. I'm looking for a therapist and you're coming to an appointment on Monday."

"Do whatever the fuck you want. I am not telling you how to live your life." 

Sarah sighed and nodded in response.

"I can't even imagine what you're going through and how absolutely devastated you must be feeling right now. And I know it's barely been a month, but you can't let yourself slip this way, not with your records." 

A month since what? 

You shrugged her worry off. 

"I'm leaving. I will call you later. If anything, please, at least send me an emoji or something so I know you're okay."

You grunted at her before she kneeled down next to the sofa to press a soft kiss to your forehead. Then, she left the house without even glancing at my direction.

I had witnessed the whole scene from a corner of the room and I had grown in my bewilderment with every spoken word.

As soon as I heard the front door softly closing, I walked up to the sofa and circled it, so I was able to see what you were doing that had caused such disagreement. 

"KSoo <3" read the letters at the top of the easily recognizable screen of the chat service we used on a regular basis. As I approached you even closer, I could hear my own voice coming from your headphones. I remeber sending you that audio barely a week ago, when I asked you to make a quick run to the grocery store before coming back home, as I needed some more ingredients for that night's dinner. 

Your eyes were filled with silent tears.

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

Second part: GUARDIAN II

MASTERLIST!?

Other Kyungsoo shizs

Everyday

Stories of my downfall  + Kai

@exosmutxoxo​

[lov3nerdstuff]

Burn

*Loki x reader*

Parts: Drabble/Oneshot

Words: 1.7k

Summary: Loki witnesses an incident in the library that makes it all the harder for him to keep his feelings for you a secret. Until he can't any longer...

A.N.: This was part of Someone to you! I cut it out because it didn't fit the story anymore, then planned on using it in Being Human, but that also didn't really fit... So here it goes as a drabble! Enjoy 💗

______________________________

One late autumn night, it was still a few hours too early for your usual visit to Loki's room for your daily conversations about just everything, he was looking through the library in search of a new read that wouldn't bore his mind into oblivion. Sauntering through the aisles had become somewhat of a habit of his, the darkness of the room and the presence of so many impeccable pieces of literature had a calming effect on his constantly troubled mind. And it distracted him from the very strong and very irritating feelings he'd started to develop for you over the course of your friendship. Every night you came to visit, it would lead the god into a spiral of excitement, joy and irritation, for he just did not know what to make of these new and dangerously strong emotions for you.

He picked up a book with sixteenth century French poetry, flipping through the pages without actually looking at the words (he'd read them before anyway), when he heard the large doors being pushed open rather forcefully.

"Look, I know it's none of my business, but… it is my fucking business." Tony snapped, but Loki could see neither him nor the person he was talking to from behind the many aisles of books.

"It's really none of your business." You replied coldly, making Loki rise his eyebrows to himself in surprise. Maybe it wasn't the nicest thing to snoop on your conversation… but he was still the god of mischief after all.

"It is my business if it happens in my house!" Stark protested loudly and Loki inevitably rolled his eyes.

"This isn't your house, Tony. It's the Avengers base, and if you like it or not, he is one of you." Your voice sounded so harsh, so determined… unlike anything Loki had ever heard from you. To him, you were always so heartmeltingly kind, so fragile inside out that he didn't even know if you possessed what it took to be of serious assistance in battle.

"He is here because we need Thor, and that was the absolutely only reason I agreed to let him stay." Tony sighed. So this was about Loki himself, after all… "If it wasn't for Thor, Loki would be locked up in a cell in the basement. And he will be, the moment he lays a hand on you."

"You have absolutely no right to decide that… Don't forget who you are talking to, and be careful who you talk about." You hissed back at the man of iron, and Loki's heart did a strange and overwhelming fluttering thing that it hadn't ever done before. Was it odd that he found this harsher side of you irresistibly attractive?

"But you do? Is that why you're sneaking into his room every night? To hook up with him because no one else is available and…" Tony didn't get to talk on, his words disrupted by a muted, strangled noise that made Loki frown. Now he simply couldn't resist the temptation to see what was going on anymore, and he peaked around the corner of the bookshelf. What he saw indeed caused his lips to part and his eyes to widen inevitably.

"Don't EVER dare speaking to me like that again." Your voice echoed through the entire room as Stark floated motionlessly mid-air in between the bookshelves, unable to move or even speak. Yet, you hadn't even lifted a finger, nor spoken a word. You merely stood still, relaxed as ever, watching the man in front of you hanging in the open space. "You are one of the very few people in this world who know exactly who I am and what I am capable of and I expect you to behave accordingly. When I ask you to leave Loki alone, you will do it. When I ask you to stop mocking him, you will do it and when I ask you to trust my judgement, you will do it AT ONCE. Understood?"

With a loud thud, Stark dropped to the floor, breathing heavily.

"Yeah yeah, I got it. Reindeer Games is all yours." He replied, out of breath, and Loki's immediate thought was that he would give anything to be yours indeed.

"Don't call him that. He doesn't like it and thus I do not like it." You said calmly, moving further along the shelves, making Loki hide further back behind his own. What by all the gods had just happened?! You'd been introduced to him as an assistant for the team, someone to deal with all the PR and the sorts… someone mortal and without powers. Loki got the impression that he'd been lied to, very boldly and very WELL indeed. Otherwise he'd been able to tell something was off weeks ago… Lying to the god of lies was such a bold move that it made him smirk as his adoration for you grew infinitesimally.

"C'mon Y/n, I'm not stupid… You keep defending and protecting him, and you're the only one he talks to at all. He even keeps protecting you too, in his own, weird, Loki way. You two clearly are more alike than either of you cares to admit. I just don't get what draws you to him. He's evil, and very much dangerous and…" Stark rambled and you turned around to glare at him in a mere second, making him jump and apologize immediately. "Sorry! Sorry… please don't try to kill me again."

"I am dangerous as well, Tony. You better don't forget that." You replied easily, and a wave of pure power radiated off of you so intensely that even Loki could feel it. It made him shiver and his heart race like mad, while his entire being longed to be close to you. To make you his. Not because of your only now obvious mightiness, even though that was definitely hotter than should be allowed, but because of YOU. He'd been bewitched by you a long time ago, in a way he hadn't understood until now. But now, he saw that behind all the power, it was indeed you he craved. You that had gotten him addicted. Not power, not might… He'd fallen for you.

For another few minutes he kept hiding behind the bookshelf, listening in on the conversation, but found nothing to be remotely interesting about it anymore. Only once Stark excused himself and made his way out of the library, Loki paid more attention to his surroundings again… were you still here? He couldn't hear a thing and thus peaked around the corner of the aisle of shelves once more… nobody there.

"Snooping isn't very polite, now, is it?" Your calm voice spoke up from right behind him, making Loki jump horribly.

"Damn Y/n…" The words slipped past his lips before he could stop them as he spun around to face you. "I tend to stab people who scare me like this! Do you want to risk that?"

"I'm fairly sure you couldn't stab me even if you tried." You grinned at him smugly, standing way too close for Loki's heart to calm down even remotely. "Though I wish you didn't have to find out like this… Find out that I'm…"

"Absolutely incredible?" He finished your sentence with a smirk of his own.

"I meant to say a terrifying freak, but thanks for the flattery." You chuckled bitterly, averting your beautiful eyes from his.

"Why would you say that?" Loki's smirk vanished the second he saw the doubt, the disgust in your eyes, the same expression he had seen so many times in the mirror. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Because it's true. I'm a monster... I can hurt people without blinking an eye, kill them with a single thought. Toy with their minds, hell, with all of reality like handful of fucking clay." You spat in utter disgust and Loki's heart clenched painfully. How could you, the most enchanting creature in creation say something so cruel about herself?

"I think that's amazing." He blurted out before he could stop himself. "You… You're amazing."

Your eyes shot up to meet his in an instant, filled with a new emotion Loki couldn't quite put his finger to. "You're not repelled by it? By me?"

"Never." He offered you a small smile, taking an involuntary step closer to you. "You've not seen true monsters, darling. But I have, and I can assure you that you're very far from that."

"So you're not at all scared by the fact that I could kill you right on the spot?" You rose an eyebrow at him, while your gaze stayed fixed on his so intensely that Loki felt a pleasant shiver run down his spine as every nerve within his body was on high alert.

"I've always been one to play with fire." He smirked down at you as he stood towering right in front of you now. Gods, you had long ago captured his mind and soul with your enchanting self, and obviously the rest of him was to follow now.

"Aren't you afraid to get burned?" You asked in a breath, a single finger reluctantly brushing against his hand.

"I'm a frost giant, darling. It takes one hell of a lot for me to burn." He chuckled deeply, capturing your hand in his before you could pull your fingers back. A small gasp escaped your lips as they parted at the contact, your eyes wide as they dug deep into his soul. For a second both of you remained silent, faces only inches apart as the tension threatened to suffocate Loki.

Finally your lips parted yet again to reveal the softest of words into the minimal distance between you. "Burn with me, Loki…"

In half of a heartbeat every doubt vanished from his body. He needed you to be his and his alone, and he needed to be yours in return. Half a heartbeat later he had you pinned against the large bookshelf behind your back, relishing the small gasp you let escape before his lips met yours in a kiss filled with the passion and the desire of multiple hundred sleepless nights. Filled with the promise of a shared eternity yet to come.

_______________________________

General Tags:

@its-remy-not-ratatouille @wegingerangelica @thidls12333 @tomstoobeautiful @dreary-skies-stuff @averyhill4445 @wiczer @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @theweirdlunatic @caretheunicorn @kthemarsian @lady-of-lies @sadly-falling-through-wonderland @strawberrysandcream @noplacelikehome77 @theoneanna @mishaandthebrits @mygodisloki @i-am-a-mes @nonsensicalobsessions @exygon @hiddles-lobotomy @rjohnson1280 @annwhojumps @spookycatqueen @salempoe @headoverhiddleston @fanfiction-and-stress @createdfromblue @halszka-potter @thecreatiivecorner @themusingsofmany @inthemarvelvoid @from-hel-i-with-love @kinghiddlestonanddixon @scorpionchild81

If you'd like to be added to my general tag list, tell me in the comments 🥰✨ also, I'd love some feedback! 💚

[pathos-logical]

One Picture, a Thousand Words

Roman is a wonder that cannot be put to words, Logan a marvel that ink cannot capture. They try anyway.

Hoo, this sure was a labor of love! Love because I love @bleepblopbloop56​ with all my heart and labor because HOLY HECK WAS THIS HARD TO WRITE. But never mind any of that, because HAPPY BIRTHDAY, my friend!!! I absolutely adore you, and I hope your year is as fantastic as you are!!!

Trigger warnings: Food mention; a joking mention of hallucinations. I think that’s it, but please tell me if I need to add something!!

There are a thousand words Logan could use to describe Roman. He would pull a Shakespeare and invent a thousand more if it meant finding a word that could accurately chronicle the tapestry of Roman, all colorful patches and carefully stitched seams. But Logan is no artist, and his words seem an inadequate medium. 

Beautiful, he thinks and immediately discards. That is too obvious, the truth of it plain to see. Lovely is- better. More intimate. But too soft, perhaps, for Roman’s flame-edged hair, the bronze of his skin and the steel in his spine.

He has tried countless words, none of them quite right. Larger-than-life. (And no, his charisma and magnetic smile absolutely did not excuse the way he didn’t seem to know how to shut up.) Captivating. (Roman did have a way with words, when he wasn’t being an idiot.) Extraordinary. (He was quite the artist and actor.) Brilliant. (Again, Roman was rather intelligent when it came down to it.) Perfect. (Technically impossible. But.)

All those words he longs to say, not one spoken aloud.

(Or- once. Alone in his room, he had tried the shape of mine on his mouth, thought about how it tasted on his lips and imagined the look in Roman’s eyes if he ever dared to say it in front of him. Once, and never again.)

Oh, he wishes. But Logan has always been better with words on the page than to other people.

Well, he thinks, looking down at the piece of paper in his hands, I suppose that’s what this is for. His eyes rove over the paper, skimming over phrases without really taking them in. If he reads it he’ll try to fix it, and at this point there’s too much of his heart in the words for him to change them.

He looks at the last paragraph. It’s the kind of declaration he sneers at in the romance novels Roman so adores, the kind of thing he would’ve sneered at barely years ago. But Roman always did have a way of making him question things he’d taken for postulates- himself included.

I tried, over the course of this letter, to pin down what exactly about you has drawn me so irrevocably into your orbit and left me floundering in unfamiliar space. However, as the length of this might indicate, I soon discovered that I could not.

You know me. It is very rare that I find myself lost for words. But I find myself unable to find the correct words to describe you, or even the correct words. Not because I have run out of things to say, or even because you have left me speechless, but because I could use a whole dictionary of love letters and fail to find the words that capture the way your eyes shine in the light when you laugh at your own jokes, and all the cliches in the world cannot express how I feel about every mundane, breathtaking thing about you.

But despite all that, I have three words for you, Roman, and I suppose there is no better day to deliver them than today (as of the day you receive this, at least).

I love you.

 Roman has a sketchbook no one but him has ever seen.

The drawings are all in pencil, and Roman aches to paint them, to mix his colors until he finds shades that will truly bring them to life. But Logan is a peculiar kind of monochrome, with his navy hair and black polo shirts and countless blue ties, and Roman fears that no amount of paint could do that justice.

It’s undeniable that the warm brown of Logan’s eyes is a color he itches to find in a colored pencil, that the almond of his skin is one he longs to see redden at his touch. But those aren’t the things he really wants to capture when he puts pencil to paper anyway. No, when he draws Logan, his focus is on the subtle gleam that comes to his eyes when he speaks about something he’s passionate about, the curl of his lips when his emotionless facade breaks at some stupid comment Roman made.

Roman wishes he could show Logan the notebook, sometimes, the days when his longing overpowers his surety in the fact that it could never be reciprocated. He imagines coffee-colored eyes looking through the pages with delight, taking in the devotion clear in the meticulous lines. He pictures the hands he’s spent hours perfecting skimming over paper, taking care not to smudge the lead.

(He sees disgust settling in the curve of Logan’s lips and rejection showing in the set of his shoulders, and he pushes away the thought and hides his notebook under his pillow, pretends that he hasn’t memorized the shape of Logan’s smile.)

But he doesn’t think of any of that today. It’s Valentine’s Day, and Roman is dressed for it. He dons his armor that he definitely did not spend a whole two hours deliberating on and sets out the door armed with a kind of desperate false bravado, which is immediately undermined by how he jumps at his roommate Patton’s encouraging “go get ‘im, tiger!” shouted through the walls.

Still scowling at the door behind him, Roman briefly debates how desperate a text will make him sound before deciding, screw it.

Hey, we still on for lunch at Cream of the Cup?

The reply is prompt, as always, and Roman makes a futile attempt at smothering the smile he knows is blossoming across his lips.

>> Of course.

I’ll see you then!

Roman can so do this.

Virgil I can’t do this

>> why not?? youve been planning this for weeks, youll bbe fine

actually, knowing you, orobably months

Jfkdkfkfkfk

it’s

LOGAN

>> im aware, weve only veen best friends for years now

… 

if yoy send a long rambling text ahout how wonderful logan is and how you dont deserve hkm im gonna lose it

roman i swear to god

HE’S JUST SO SMART AND AMAZING AND I’M JUST ME I DON’T DESERVE HIM AND WHAT IF I SCREW THINGS UP BETWEEN US FOREVER AND HE HATES ME OR WHAT IF IT’S AWKWARD I’M OKAY WITH JUST BEING FRIENDS REALLY HE PROBABLY DOESN’T EVEN LIKE ME THAT WAY ANYWAY I MEAN WHY WOULD HE

Whoops sorry

>> youre not

I’m not

But

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

>> okay roman, listen up, because I’m only gonna say this once. 

first of all, cut it with the self-deprecating crap. one, that’s my thing. and two, I WILL pull a patton and fight you.

stop doubting yourself, it doesn’t suit you

I might not have known you as long as I’ve known logan, but I know 

I can see you typing. shut up.

maybe I haven’t known you as long as I’ve known Logan, but I do know you’re a good guy, and you /clearly/ love him

KSKFKFKKFKGD W H A T

>> yes, everyone knows, no, Logan does not, LET ME FINISH

it means a LOT to him that you actually read the articles he sends you about mars rovers at 3 am and that you don’t tell him he’s annoying for infodumping about alpha centauri or whatever star system he’s planning to go to and that you deal with his hypocrisy about sleep schedules and his general inability to do emotions

also, knowing him for years means I know his type, and trust me, you’re it

and even if by some miracle he doesn’t like you back, you guys are too close to ruin your friendship. okay? so however this ends, I promise you’ll still be friends

>> But

ROMAN

listen, you don’t tune him out when he starts babbling, and he does the same for you. he loves listening to your rants about art theory, he goes to every single one of your shows, and he started learning Spanish just to impress you. yes, he’s learned more phrases than just insults, he’s just been hiding it so he can surprise (aka impress) you later

and roman? he really really does value your friendship. you know that we’ve known each other since forever, so you know I mean it when I say that I’ve NEVER seen him get so close to someone this quickly.

and… you’ve been good for him too, okay? he’s not really the type to get lonely, but that’s just because he gets so tied up in his giant brain he forgets there are people in the outside world to talk to. but it really is important to him that you’re always there for him, and… I can tell you right now that he’s told me how much he appreciates you for it

after all that? I’d say he loves you too, dude. go for it.

you can talk now

Holy heck you DO love me

>> eh

Holy HECK

Wait

Did you turn on autocorrect just to yell at me???

>> Only for you, babe.

Please never do that again

yeaj that was oncredibly unconfortable

now GO GET YOUR MAN

 Roman, for all his theatrics about love at first sight and true love’s kiss, hadn’t mentioned Valentine’s Day plans once in the weeks leading up to it. Then, exactly one week ago, he’d texted Logan with a simple request to meet up at a nearby cafe. Logan knew him too well to miss the possible connotations of such an invitation. But it was entirely possible that this was merely meant to be an outing between two friends. A platonic outing.

A platonic outing where there was barely room to stand, forget sit. Logan curses under his breath. He’d decided for once to not show up fifteen minutes early, as that would only give him more time to second-guess himself, especially as Roman was notorious for being chronically late. But he had failed to account for the obvious fact that, it being both a Saturday and Valentine’s Day, the usually quiet cafe is filled to the brim with couples ordering the heart-themed specials and kissing and generally clogging the air with sweet words and PDA. And no, Logan is not irrationally annoyed about this, he’s just worried he won’t be able to secure an empty table for him and Roman.

But just as the thought crosses his mind, he catches a familiar head of fiery hair at a table against the wall, bent over his phone and apparently completely absorbed by whatever he was looking at. An incredulous “Roman?” slips from his lips unbidden, because- well, Roman had once nearly been late to the first show he was the lead in. But there he was, reserving a table at exactly 12:30 with a croissant in front of him. Maybe today really was a day for miracles.

He watches with amusement as Roman jumps and looks up at the sound of his name. His face lights up as soon as he registers who it is, and Logan abruptly goes from amused to filled with some kind of fluttery warmth he doesn’t want to quantify.

“Logan!” Roman exclaims, hurriedly tucking his phone away. “Hey! How are you?” His smile beams out like the sun, but it dims upon Logan’s next words.

“Not well, unfortunately,” Logan informs him gravely. “I fear I have been having severe auditory and visual hallucinations. For example, I am currently experiencing one so vivid that I believe I am conversing with a friend in a cafe when I know that there is no chance of him being here yet.” Maybe Logan should feel bad about the way Roman’s expression morphs from worry to alarm to overblown outrage, but the challenging gleam in his eyes arrests him as surely as that of of Roman’s heart-shaped studs, and he can’t bring himself to regret it.

“Hey, I’m not always late!” he protests so loudly several patrons turn to look at him, perhaps expecting a scene.

Logan can’t help the smirk that creeps across his face as he slides into the seat opposite Roman, surreptitiously tucking a navy blue folder besides him. Thank goodness for Roman being typically Roman and reserving a booth that could seat six for a party of two. “Roman. Once Virgil and I deliberately told you to meet up an hour after we were actually supposed to meet so that when you inevitably showed up late, it would only be by five minutes rather than fifty. And the very idea that you could be on time for something went so flagrantly against the laws of the universe that the universe struck back by making your car break down, and you missed the meeting entirely.”

“Is that what happened?” Roman asks, looking so genuinely gobsmacked that Logan can’t help the snicker that escapes him. Roman’s expression flips to one of self-satisfaction, and Logan tries to ignore the little burst of fondness in his chest at the sight. Even if the rest of today goes horribly, at least he can savor this easy banter between them.

And banter they do, debating over whether Logan’s physics professor or Roman’s marketing professor is more inept before commiserating over the “perpetual hell week” that is college. They bounce from the disappointing latest installment of one of Roman’s favorite series to a terrible documentary on aliens Logan had found on a “science” channel (“It’s called a having a basic grasp of eighth-grade geometry, Roman- which, unlike this nine-thousand year old civilization, these morons have clearly never achieved!”) to every little thing in between, their food forgotten in front of them.

It’s nothing special, technically- they’ve been friends for years now, and they often have talks about everything and nothing. But today Logan can convince himself that an electric current is charging the air between them, flushing Roman’s cheeks and lighting up his eyes as Logan is drawn in, helpless against his magnetism.

There’s no decisive moment where Logan thinks, this is it. There’s just Roman, his laughter like bells in the breeze, and Logan, gazing at him like he’d put the stars in the sky.

“Roman,” he says. That’s it- Roman.

Roman is still giggling at his rendition of the student who’d spilled their coffee on the drama professor on the first day, but he sobers at whatever look is on Logan’s face. “Hey- you good, Lo?”

The nickname catches at something in Logan’s chest, pulls it open so the next words come just a little harder, just a little easier. “Roman,” he says again, looking down. “I do not wish to… ruin the mood, but I have something to confess.”

(He’s looking down, so he misses the way Roman jumps at the last word.)

But when he meets Roman’s eyes, open and curious, Logan’s confidence abandons him. He exhales slowly in an attempt to regain some of the feeling from before, like the memory of Roman’s voice will fortify his. But all that comes out is: “I wrote- would you-” 

Logan’s throat fails him entirely, something a little like dread and a little like hope clogging it up. Without another word, he slides the folder he had kept tucked at his side to Roman. When Roman raises a curious eyebrow, Logan simply smiles- a quick, brittle thing- and motions for him to open it.

Earlier, the noise in the cafe had distracted Logan, had made him frown when it rose over Roman’s voice. But suddenly it all fades into the background, the chatter of voices and clatter of spoons receding in favor of the thwip of the folder opening, the little breath Roman takes when he reads the first two words.

Dimly, Logan thinks he must have used up all his words in the letter. His fingers lay still at his sides, mind is utterly blank as he watches Roman read it. But his heart is pounding loud enough that for an absurd second, he’s sure Roman can hear it in the sudden quiet.

Logan waits for a minute, maybe five. He thinks he’d wait for Roman forever if he asked. But Roman doesn’t make him wait that long, because when he looks up his eyes are wet with tears, and when Logan uselessly opens his mouth- to do what? His voice certainly hasn’t returned- Roman lurches forward, clumsy in a way Logan has never known him, and seals their lips with a kiss.

And when they finally draw apart, Logan thinks he’s regained his words (or maybe just these three), because they force themselves out of his lips like they’ve been waiting to do so since Logan said Roman’s name. And Roman, his face a study in the kind of shock and delight that can only come from a thought-to-be-hopeless dream coming true, returns them.

[rayshippouuchiha]

I came out of Endgame with tears in my eyes and my heart filled up to the brim with absolute seething rage.

Even as I write this now my hands shake with some sick mixture of sadness, rage, and bitter disappointment.

So I preface this by saying that I am emotionally compromised and some of my views might shift with time and distance.

But, for better or for worse, this is my first rage flushed take:

I am so disappointed and so angry that after all of the tension, all of the build, all of the time and sweat and tears, all of the loyalty, we were rewarded with this.

Endgame had its high points, I’m not saying that it didn’t.  There were some genuinely funny moments and some heart rending ones as well.

Every single second Tony Stark was on screen was flawless as always.  Robert Downey Jr. once again proved why he and he alone was suited for the role of Tony Stark and the task of carrying the majority of the MCU for the past 10+ years.

That’s not to say that the rest of the cast wasn’t good.  All of the actors all obviously brought their A game and then some when they were allowed to by what I loosely call a script.

So yeah, there were some highs.

But when its comes to Endgame’s low points?

Its low points were subterranean.

They lowered the bar and then they dug underneath it.

Again I’m writing this basically fresh from the theater and with my emotions still high so do forgive me if this is a bit jumbled around or if I ramble a bit as I cover some of the real issues I had with the film.

So, first thing to address was the overall tone of the film.

For this to be the much glorified Endgame, the “battle of our lives”, there was, in my opinion, a distinct lack of true tension in this film.  Instead of a fraught, nail biting, tension filled ride, Endgame is more of a ... brisk jog through some vaguely sticky situations.

Instead of playing the story straight and giving the situation the gravity it deserved, the narrative went out of its way to put humor that served no other purpose than to ruin what tension had been previously built.  And, in my opinion, the tone of the film suffered for it.

The humor and jokes were humorous, I’m not saying they wasn’t.  I genuinely laughed out loud in the moment.  But I also feel that, with the majority of the comedy that was wedged into the narrative, the film suffered for it.

Now let’s move on a bit to the actual plot of the film.  Again, forgive me if I bounce a bit:

Jeremy Renner was breathtakingly heartbreaking as Clint Barton.  Renner was finally allowed to stretch his legs a bit in this film and he proved that, had he been given the chance, he would have given us a Clint Barton to take our breath away.

Watching with Clint as his family died helped to set what should have been the tone for the majority of the film from there on while reminding us of just what was lost and just what was at stake all at the same time.

Chris Evans brought heart to his portrayal of a Steve Rogers who seems both lighter and more weighted down in this film than ever before.

Scarlett Johansson’s Natasha finally showed more emotion than “head tilt”, “lip purse”, and “arched brow” and it was beautiful.

The brief flash of friendship and affection between Nebula and Tony was perfect and heartwarming as well.  Nebula was magnificent as the “feral space cat desperately in need of softness and a friendly hand” when placed side by side with a slowly withering Tony Stark who is, even at his lowest moments, still kind to this alien cyborg he doesn’t know but to who he owes his life.  They flowed together with an onscreen chemistry in their few moments side by side that felt organic and aching.

Together Tony and Nebula embodied a truly important life/plot point of “meet kindness with kindness and kindness will be your reward”.

Moving forward in time hearing Tony vent his anger and his pain and his distrust at Steve was cathartic in a lot of ways.

As was watching Tony rip the arc reactor from his chest and slap it into Steve’s hand.

In this moment Tony is handing Steve his metaphorical broken heart and leaving someone else to, for once, try and pick up the pieces.

But then, unfortunately, things go rather steeply down hill from there.

With Tony out for the count in a hospital bed the others hunt down and execute Thanos with basically a hand wave and all hope for the stones is lost.

Until deus ex rat-ina unleashes Scott Lang from the quantum realm and the logic of the film takes a sharp left turn.

Scott Lang was missing for 5 years.

To him it was 5 hours.

To which I say, why did Janet van Dyne, age during her stay in the quantum realm?  If, according to the MCU canon, every year in our world was roughly only an hour for Scott Lang, then why didn’t Janet come out of the quantum realm only 30 hours older instead of 30 years?

I feel like the answer is probably “because” but yeah maybe I’m just fuzzy on my Ant Man so if I’m wrong then just ignore that bit please.

Also, just a side note, I adore how it’s been 5 years, Wakanda is very much an ally and still up and running, and yet Rhodey still don’t have working legs.  But alas, racism.

Moving on. 

So with the main villain dead and Tony Stark having solved time travel in his living room, because I stan legends only, we’re now subjected, and that is the very word I’d use to describe what happens next, to what is called a Time Heist.

Cute.

Also Bruce Banner and Hulk have now merged Steven Universe style despite Hulk being scared green-less 5 years ago.  But that’s all good, Bruce smoked a ton of weed, they meditated, went on a cleanse or whatever.

Either way Bruce finally did that character development that everyone had been shouting at him since Avengers 2012 and accepted Hulk as part of him and they’re now Dr. Hulk which was … something that happened?

A thing that they chose to do.  The direction in which they set their narrative wheels and then powered full steam ahead and plowed us right over in the process.

But yeah, Time Heist!  That’s the way to go, the only way apparently.

Because going back in time to stop the Snappening isn’t an option due to reasons that are explained and still look and feel paper thin but probably just honestly boils down to “Russos”

Our intrepid heroes will now split up and surf through time Bill and Ted style to collect the Stones from different points in history.

Yay.

So the rest of the film is basically that, a big old jewel hunt through space and history where the Russos attempt to fool us into thinking their plot points are cohesive and cool by donkey punching us repeatedly in our nostalgia-sacks.

We’re treated to, in no particular order, such hits as:

“Ah 2012 and the invasion of New York only not as interesting but Tony Stark is very much an ass man, but then we been done known that.”

“The Ancient One and her still very distracting skull vein coming at you right now”

“LOKI YOU LITTLE SHIT”

“The one time I envied Scott Lang because, for a split second, he got to be inside Tony Stark”

“Let’s watch Tony Stark simultaneous take a Hulk to the face and have a small cardiac event all at the same time but from different angles”

And let us not forget

“Tee Hee Hee us white bois just had to find a way to make sure Captain America say “Hail HYDRA” but it was for “spy reasons” so weren’t we clever???????”

Yeah boys, great job.

So edgy.

(Although as a side note I do agree, Steve Roger’s ass really is America’s ass and I’d like to thank him for that. Personally.)

But then, of course, Endgame would not have been complete without:

“Steve Rogers stares longingly and creepily at Peggy Carter from behind a window, further backing up his one defining character trait in the MCU which is the inability to move on.  Also she doesn’t look up at all despite being a trained spy and all around badass who probably should have noticed the 6 foot slab of American Beef staring at her from less than a foot away, dark room or no dark room.”

And then my personal favorite:

“Tony Stark sees Howard Stark, the father he described as “calculating, cold, he never told me he was proud of me, never even told me he loved me” but it’s all good cause Tony’s a dad now so looking back all he sees are the good times with his emotionally neglectful and abusive father who says there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for his unborn kid and now they awkwardly hug while I try not to scream “FOOTAGE NOT FUCKING FOUND HOWARD AND NO THAT ONE 3 MINUTE VIDEO DOESN’T COUNT YOU SHIT” at the screen and explode in pure rage.”

Joy.

Truly a scene that was necessary and fit the narrative of Howard Stark’s personality and was needed for Tony to uh get closure or grow as a man and a father or something …

It totally wasn’t yet another excuse to give a canonically abusive father screen time in a way that seems genial and sweet in an attempt to give them a bit of redemption that they neither earned nor deserve.

But yeah, whatever, moving on.

Also Rhodey remains an absolute gem and he and Nebula get shit done.

Only oops, not so fast.

Because apparently the only one who is going to run into the whole “two of you can’t exist in one place at one time without consequences” rule is Nebula who, despite her bitchin orange stripe/badge of character development, managed to like synch up with her past self?

Because she didn’t turn her bluetooth/quantum entanglement function off I guess.

Either way Orange Stripe Nebula, O’Snebula as I call her, has accidentally air dropped all her files into OG Nebula’s mental iPhone.

So yeah now big old Past Grimace knows what’s up.

Ooops??

So shit goes down and then Past Grimace is like “you need to Trogan horse this shit, least favorite daughter” so OG Nebula does because “daddy issues”.

Dr. Hulk puts on the gauntlet and Kentucky fires his arm bringing all the people lost in the Snappening back to life now, 5 years after they got dusted.

Which is … honestly a recipe for disaster in so many ways.  What about the people, like the guy in Steve’s support group, who have started to move on?

What about the people who have remarried, have built new lives?

All of that’s ruined now.

It’s fantastic all those people are alive again but jobs, housing, food, healthcare, government, all of it is back in massive disarray across the universe.

And bringing those people back does nothing to bring back the people who didn’t die in the Snappening but died from causality instead.  All the deaths caused by suicides, by car/bus/train/plane/ship/etc crashes, by a lack of first responders, by the civil/world/interplanetary wars that probably raged across the universe due to entire governments disappearing?

All of those people are still dead.

The Snappening killed half of all life in the universe.  Causality probably killed another good ¼ after that.

And Dr. Hulk’s Un-Snappening saves none of them.

This isn’t a true solution, it’s a shitty band-aid.

But yeah, Russos so….

Moving on.

Yadda Yadda Yadda, plot plot plot. OG Nebula goes undercover, Past Grimace ends up in the future, there’s some fighting (which was admittedly BAD ASS), shit happens, and Tony saves the day like we all knew he would.

YAY!

Despite the massive rambling up above I’m not gonna plot out the entire movie right here though a lot will probably get covered coming up because here’s where I get down and start talking about the various character arcs too.

Because what a wild fucking ride those were.

Okay to take it from the top Scott Lang’s arc was fine.  Beyond my questions about the quantum realm his was clear cut and fine although I do wonder at his luck at being, apparently, the only Scott Lang in San Fran to go missing.  Well either that or he was staring at some other Scott Lang’s name instead of his own and in that case “awkward”.

Bruce’s arc was … look I could have done without all of the cringy Dr. Hulk stuff that they played up for laughs.  If they were gonna brush Hulk being terrified under the rug they could have found a better way to do it besides just erasing the duality between Hulk and Banner with a hand wave.

But yeah, Russos.

Carol Danvers was beautiful and magnificent and completely brushed aside.  Yes she was out in the universe handling shit, yes I know they did that so they could focus on the core Avengers, etc etc etc.

But it’s a damn shame that Carol Danvers, and her glorious haircut, was reduced to being the sorely needed and totally badass cavalry and last minute ace in the hole when she should have, logically, been a part of the vanguard.  Honestly I have thoughts on why Carol’s entire character should have been saved completely for the next phase of the MCU instead of introduced so late in this one but I digress.

O’Snebula was a perfect shining bionic light and I love her.

Gamora is now alive in the future but at what cost?  Not that her life isn’t worth something on its own, it totally is and she deserved the loophole resurrection 10000%.

Shit’s gonna be awkward though cause she doesn’t love Quill, she doesn’t love the Guardians, doesn’t really know O’Snebula or the universe she’s been thrown into.  She doesn’t have the memories or the experiences or the character growth and even if she does go back to her family she’ll never be the same person.

Now her and Quill’s relationship, if they ever have one again, will be reduced down to Quill going “you fell in love with me once you could do it again despite us no longer having the shared experiences that bonded us together”.  Same can be said for the rest of the Guardians as well.

Guess we all know what the plot of GotG 3 is gonna be about.

And that brings us to the story lines that really and truly upset me.

Which is basically all the rest of them.

Natasha/Clint’s combined story-line, Thor’s everything, Steve’s … Steve, and then finally Tony.

Now the Natasha/Clint story-line started out promising.

Clint’s rage and pain was obvious, his heartbreak poignant.  His decision to use all of those to cut a bloody swathe through the criminal underworld was both Dramatic(™) and understandable.

Natasha’s love and grief for him, her desperate attempts to hold onto what she has left by throwing herself into her new job, was a perfect demonstration that Natasha Romanoff is very much not a robot.  She was exhausted, frayed at the edges, and she had tears in her eyes, over Clint.  And then she pulled herself together, slipped her mask back on, and pushed her way forward.  This was all excellent.

It was also a nice narrative callback/parallel to have Natasha be the one to go out and bring Clint in from the cold.

Natasha plays touch stone, plays stability, for Clint and for many of the others.  For the first time Natasha is truly portrayed as a person all the way down to the core instead of some witty quips in a catsuit.  Plus her eyebrows finally came back from the war and her hair looked good again.  So there was that.

Clint and Natasha’s arc comes to a climax on Vormir as they search for the Soul Stone and Red Skull, the Nazi cockroach that he is, gives them the same spiel he gave Thanos.

To get the Soul Stone you must give up the life of the one you love the most. A soul for a soul.

Narrative wise this is consistent, we all knew this would happen as soon as they started searching for the Stones again.  It was obvious.

It was also obvious that Clint was the perfect sacrifice.

He’s got nothing left, his family is dead, he’s already lost the people he loves the most, he’s spent five years being a borderline monster.

And he is also, without a doubt, the thing that Natasha loves the most.

Clint was ready and willing to go, ready to die for the blood on his hands, ready to sacrifice himself for the chance that his family would be saved.

Ready to lay down on the wire and let Natasha walk over him for the sake of everything.

Clint dying made sense, was narratively sound, and heartbreaking.

All of which are only a few of the reasons why Natasha’s death was such a goddamn betrayal.

Instead of following along with the narratively sound death of Clint Barton, an Avenger that’s been ignored for most of the films as is, the Russo brothers instead chose to fridge Natasha.

Clint dying would have been the perfect mirror to Gamora’s death.

Gamora was a daughter unwillingly sacrificed by her father to destroy half of all life in the universe.

Clint would have been a father willingly sacrificed by a friend to save half of all life in the universe, his own sons and daughter included.

But no, we didn’t get that, instead we got a gratuitous scene of Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, splayed angel like and bloody on the rocks below.

Instead they fridged the Black Widow, the only woman of the original Big Six, because they couldn’t bring themselves to fridge a man.

So Clint gets the Soul Stone.

Such a fitting end for the Black Widow right?  Dying in a man’s place, mourned on screen by a circle of men, but ultimately set aside rather quickly.

I understand why Natasha wanted to be the one to go, I understand that she didn’t want Clint’s family to lose their husband/father and that her true family was the Avengers. I get that.  It doesn’t mean I enjoy or agree with the decision they made any more.

It doesn’t make me any less tired of watching female characters die for the sake of men and their families.

Natasha Romanoff sacrificed herself for the universe and her family and that deserves respect even if I absolutely hate it as a narrative choice.

Oh and what about the absolute NERVE of the Russos to have that awesome Lady Power Battle Strut happen but only after they killed Natasha, one of the Big Six?

Bitter? Me? Nooo.

Now, moving on to Thor.

Thor.

Oh my actual God, Thor.

The levels of disrespect Thor, Chris Hemsworth, and the fans were shown with this character arc/story-line in Endgame is breathtaking.

The absolute, shameless disrespect.

They turned Thor into a cowardly, drunken slob who has spent the last 5 years ignoring his responsibilities to what’s left of his people and instead has spent his time drinking, sulking, and literally yelling at kids over PSN??

Endgame’s Thor has the bullshit reasoning that he needs to stop trying to be who he thinks he should be and instead be who he is.

Which flies completely in the face of literally all of his character development from Thor all the way to Thor 3 and then Infinity War.

The entirety of Thor 3 was Thor’s hero’s journey culminating in him finally being the king he was always meant to be.  Finally maturing and stepping forward to lead his people.

I am supposed to believe that Thor, depressed and guilty or not for not killing Thanos when he had the chance the first time, just abandoned his people like that?

I’m supposed to believe that Thor would piss all over everything the majority of his family and friends died for?

I’m supposed to believe that Heimdall, Loki, countless soldiers, and The Warrior’s Three and Lady Sif (I guess), all died to protect Asgard, died for the people and for Thor, and Thor just what? Turns his back on all of that to become a drunk?

No, Thor wouldn’t do that.  Thor should have been down there beside Valkyrie working those fishing vessels when Bruce and Rocket came calling.  If Thor had any hesitance to join them it should have been, “I can’t abandon my people, I am needed here.”  He should have been fiercely guarding the tiny fraction of Asgard that’s left.

Thor’s depression and guilt was valid. Don’t mistake me on that. But they played it for jokes.  They made him a caricature of depression, made him “gross” and incompetent and the butt of the jokes, and in the process diminished what should have been a painful and poignant arc for Thor.

Instead we got Big Lebowski Thor, bathrobe included, who does stand up and fight yes but, in the end, gives up his crown and just fucks off to space to have petty pissing competitions with Peter Quill so he can?? find himself?? despite finding himself in Ragnarok already???

Thor’s entire arc in Endgame was shallow, mishandled, and disrespectful to the character, to Chris Hemsworth, and to the fans.

You, we, he, all deserved better than this.

Now we get to Steve.

Steve Rogers, Captain America himself.

I’ve had a lot of salt about Steve’s character and actions in the MCU but, all of that aside, he deserved so much more than what the Russo’s did to him in Endgame.

Hell he’s deserved so much more than what’s been done to him since post-CA:TFA.

But this is about Endgame specifically soooo….

Steve’s shown leading a support group in the beginning of Endgame, is shown talking about moving on and moving forward and learning to let go. Which is wonderful.  It sounds like the exact character development we’ve all been waiting for for Steve.

Which is, of course, the exact moment when Steve goes “nah just kidding, we don’t ever move on”.

Which, given the circumstances, is pretty fair.  If Steve was only thinking/talking about Thanos and the events of Infinity War.

But of course he wasn’t.

CA:CW should have been the end of the Peggy Carter saga for Steve.  He mourned her, he was finally moving forward, he’d kissed Sharon, he threw everything away to save Bucky, he gave up his shield, etc etc.

But no.  Endgame finds him right back there, clutching that goddamn compass, and making moon eyes at a woman who we all thought went on and lived a life without him, got married, had kids, and generally existed outside of Steve Rogers.

But no.  The Russo’s had to take that away from us too.

And yes yes I know I know multiverse or whatever but still.

Steve steamrolls his way through Endgame with skill and determination.  He picks up Thor’s hammer, finally worthy, which how??? Why???  (perhaps because he’s no longer keeping secrets??? Or maybe that’s just my salt talking? Who knows? Not me?)

And then he fights Thanos head to head.

(Although him wielding the hammer brought up an entire separate set of issues cause I’m pretty sure Mjolnir doesn’t actually summon lightning. Ragnarok pretty much said that the lightning has always been within Thor.  Mjolnir was just a control accessory.  But, you know, Russos *jazzhands*)

And then, in the end, he insists on returning the Stones on his own.

Only he doesn’t come back like he was supposed to.

Instead we’re given old Steve Rogers.

Because Steve returned the Stones and then ….went and found Peggy Carter and got married and lived an entire life with her ignoring everything he would have known was going to happen to her and around the both of them or something???

Or maybe not if the multiverse thing holds up but then who knows any more???

But then how did Old Steve end up right there by that lake on that day at that right time if he’s technically from a different multiverse???

Either way Sam gets his shield and the mantle of Captain America, which was fantastic, and Bucky more than likely knew Steve’s plan all along but the best read I really got on him was basically “eh” so he might well have been happy for Steve too.

But still, instead of finally achieving peace and continuing to learn to live in the future with Bucky and Sam and the remnants of the Avengers, his family and the life he’s built there over the past years, instead of putting the shield down because he’s learned to let go in the now, Steve only puts the shield down because he chooses the past.

He chooses the past over all of that and all of the people left who love him. Sure the argument could be said that he knew they’d be alright but still.

There is a deep well of dissatisfaction inside of me as to how Steve’s entire ending arc was handled.  Why did peace only come to Steve after Tony and Natasha were both dead and then was only found in the past?

No disrespect to Peggy Carter, I adore her, but were the relationships he had in the future worth so little that the past was the only place he could find happiness?  A past with a woman that he knows loved him but still moved on and found happiness outside of him, lived a full and happy life without him?

Steve didn’t get a character arc so much as he got a character circle.  A character loop.  He went right back to where he started.

Endgame erases all of the character development Steve underwent post-Avengers.  Just brushes it all under the rug.

The Russo’s stole the character development Steve Rogers spent a decade undergoing to give him their version of a happy ending.

They robbed him and us both of every bit of growth and forward motion Steve has underwent and I will never forgive them for that.

And now we get to Tony Stark.

Anthony Edward Stark.

The Iron Man.

Tony’s arc is, was, the longest and best developed arc in the entirety of the MCU.

It’s spanned 10+ years and has been nurtured and hand fed by Robert Downey Jr.

If Endgame got one thing right, one thing at all, it’s how they handled the majority of Tony’s arc.

From him laying the smack down on Steve once he was home, finally venting his emotions and his anger, all the way to him solving time travel before tucking his kid into bed, and then building an Infinity Gauntlet on his own even though Thanos committed genocide to get the one he had.

Tony Stark’s arc was glorious and expected and sad.

I think that my one almost complaint is that Tony stopped for 5 years.  On one hand he deserved the rest, deserved the chance to find happiness.  He was hurt and tired and he’d faced his demons and been left bleeding out with the death of half the universe weighing on his shoulders.

He deserved to just stop for a while.

On the other hand stopping is not something Tony has ever been good at, just like Pepper said.  A part of me thought Tony would be working, frantically, to find something, anything, to turn back the hands of time.  To track Thanos down. To get the Stones and then to get everything else back.

To get Peter and all of the others back.

But that’s not the route they went and I’m … okay? I guess, with that.

Tony was validated and vindicated and everyone would have finally listened to him.  It only took the death of half of the universe to do it.  But he was too tired, too hurt and untrusting to keep pushing.  I can respect that.

But of course once an idea worms its way inside Tony can’t let it go.  So he solves time travel on the fly and sets out to save the world.

Again.

His one stipulation is that he will do anything, everything, he has to in order to keep what he has now.  His wife Pepper and Morgan, his sweet little daughter.

So of course he doesn’t get to do that either.

After all of the blood, sweat, suffering, and mental illnesses, Tony doesn’t get his happy ending.  Not really.

He gets to rest, yes, but he loses out on everything he wanted to do with his kid.  In the process of saving the universe he becomes the one thing he never wanted to be for Morgan, a distant father.

A face on a screen, stories, memories other people have.

No matter how many holograms or inventions or whatever Tony left to Morgan, it’ll never replace him.

Morgan got 5 years with her father.  She’ll spend the rest of her life hearing stories about him, about how much of a hero he was.  And hopefully, with Pepper and all the others behind her, Tony will remain a hero to her and will not, instead, become her version of Captain America.  An untouchable symbol that Morgan will never live up to.

So, in the end, Tony sacrifices once again.

Watches the future he wanted crumble to dust in his fingers, lightning scorching him from the inside out as infinity rips him apart.

And he dies there, surrounded by some of the people who love him best.

His best friend.

His wife.

The son he almost had.

And, despite all of that, it is very very fitting that his death was at his own hands.

Thanos could take out half the universe, he could traverse time and space, he could humble Thor, terrorize the Hulk, rip Steve Roger’s up, survive shield and hammer and so much more, but the one thing he couldn’t do?

He couldn’t kill Tony Stark.

The only thing that could kill Iron Man, could kill Tony Stark, was his own heart.

Tony Stark takes the Infinity Stones in hand knowing how this is going to end, knowing that Stephen Strange set him on this path years ago.

Because didn’t Strange warn him?  Didn’t Strange tell him outright “I’ll let the kid and you both die to protect the Time Stone”?

Tony just never expected it to take a few hours and then 5 more years for Strange’s promise to finally be fulfilled.

So Tony does it knowing that after everything he’s been through, all of the pain and the suffering and the battles, it was only enough to have earned 5 years of happiness, 5 years of his dream.

5 years of being the father he always swore he’d be.

Tony Stark takes the Infinity Stones and dies for the entire universe, for his family, for his daughter.  Dies knowing that he’ll be doing the one thing he didn’t want to do, swore he would never do.

Leaving them behind.

Tony Stark brings us full circle as he stands as both equal and mirror of Thanos once again.

Man to Titan.  Good Father to Bad Father.  Life to Death.

Tony Stark picks up the weight of the universe and then he dies making sure that it has a future free from the same fear that has haunted him for a decade.

A warm light for all mankind, sent to sleep, to rest, knowing that finally everything will be okay.

And all he had to do was die for it.

So, I’ll close this out saying this:

This was written in one solid push after my first viewing and Endgame was dissatisfying for me as you might have guessed.  I am disappointed and angry at so much they chose to do to end out this iconic decade of cinema and to close out these character’s arcs.

There were a lot of points and little details I didn’t get to cover in this and perhaps a lot of points you might not agree with me on.

That’s okay.

Because, no matter what, there is one thing I know for sure.

We, I, will always have Tony Stark and the lessons he taught me.  The pain he endured and shared with all of us.  The bravery and strength he inspired in so many of us as we watched him struggle with physical and mental illnesses on screen.  As we watched him obsess and stress and love and grow.

I have never loved a character more than I love Tony Stark.

I have never been impacted by a character as much as I have been by Tony Stark.

I’m not sure if I ever will again.

So, Tony Stark is Iron Man.

He always will be.

And he saved more than just some fictional universe.

He saved a lot of us along the way too.

And we’ll always love him for that.

[paperclipninja]

Younger post-ep ramble 6x01

The waiting, the anticipation, the trying not to pass out every time the Younger team posted some ridiculously next-level pic or gif or clip...it was all leading to this, the season 6 premiere! The sheer joy and elation I feel from seeing new footage and new moments for these characters takes me by surprise every single time. I am perpetually thirsty for this show and there is not much I delight in more than drinking it all in as it unfolds. “Big Day” most certainly did not disappoint, it was a fast paced sensory overload and didn’t hold back in setting a whole lot in motion straight out of the gate.

What is interesting to me is that so much of this first ep had been included in the official trailer and other promos, so in a way I felt like I’d seen lots of it but also it was all new because I didn’t have the full context of any of the bits. Take the opening scene, for example - we had seen part of it in the First Look table read, part in the trailer, part in other promos, yet there I was trying not to catch on fire in those first two minutes because it was h.o.t. I am a sucker for a coming-up-behind-the-person-while-they-get-ready-in-the-mirror scenario and this season opener raised it a notch by putting Charles in a pair of boxer briefs, you know, to emphasise the morning situation (and the abs situation lbh) while giving us the dual angle of the mirror and the foreground just to make sure we could see all that was happening (noted and appreciated). My brain is still not computing Liza and Charles as an actual out-in-the-open couple so the whole ‘I know why your neck is sore’, ‘as long as you’re in [the bed] when she gets home’ (this talking in the third person thing they’ve had going on since that fountain scene in the finale = YES), chatting about the day ahead, intermittent kisses, arms wrapped around each other...I’m sorry, what were we talking about? Oh yes, very good scene, 5/5 would recommend.

I am thrilled at the way Liza just dropped the ‘love you’ so naturally, it was exactly the right way for that to happen considering how long these characters have been doing their dance. Dare I say that I loved it even more when Liza told Kelsey she loves her in the office and Kelsey said ‘aw, you didn’t even run away’. Lol. Such a great tie in and I am really feeling the Kelsey/Liza dynamic in this ep right from the get-go. From the moment they’re walking up to the office together, the support they’re showing for one another is so evident and adding Lauren into the work mix is going to be fab. Lauren may have only been in the ep for about a minute but as always she makes such an impression, me and my English degree feel seen. I cannot WAIT to see her relationship with Diana grow and also, did I miss Zommy being a thing? Is this Zaddy but flipped? 

As always Liza has her relentless belief in Kelsey, but it is so nice to see Kelsey stepping up to reassure Liza that they will make sure the company is stronger than ever and showing that she respects Liza’s relationship and is also supporting her in her new role. I really hope this continues throughout the season and I appreciate that the writers may be responding to the somewhat lopsided friendship we were seeing last season. I enjoyed both conversations about clearing desks way more than I probably should have and I am as happy as Liza that she finally has an office with an actual door that closes (p.s. here’s hoping these very specific references are alluding to future door shutting and clearing desks because I am trash and I know you’re all thinking it).  

Of course we couldn’t have Liza getting too settled before Quinn appeared to drop the bomb that Page Six are running the blind item with her age printed as 28 and that the entire Charles stepping down so there would be no more lies/celebrating Liza rally was only ever really going to be on Quinn’s terms. I was SO hoping that Quinn and Liza could become friends. I saw such potential in the finale, however I also see that this stays consistent with the ruthless business woman we were presented with, who is only in it for herself. The way Quinn says ‘let’s not make this a pity party about ageism’ with such contempt is a stark contrast to the ‘ageism is wrong’ mantra from the last time we saw the character and I actually gasped. Laura Benanti is going to play this evil turn so well that I am now officially excited to see Quinn’s true colours, I love a deliciously dodgy character (shout out to C.Sussman the real MVP). I do wonder if the whole glass cliff phenomenon we learn about during this ep is actually going to end up being Quinn’s M.O, especially after the finance meeting when she told Kelsey to enjoy making cuts before going to get on a plane *insert shrug emoji*. The justification for keeping the age thing on the DL was legit, Kelsey’s ewww at the idea of banging the boss was so in character and props to Liza being all ‘excuse you and your ewww’, but just in case we needed convincing that people would assume the 28 year old in the story was Kelsey, enter Diana. 

It had all started so well, the day that is. I really liked how Diana was supporting Kelsey as the boss when she first arrived at work and Kelsey saying she wanted to talk to Diana about hiring Lauren, a glimpse at the way these women are going to work together. But let’s put all that on hold while we recount the shattering of my heart into a million pieces. First of all, Diana’s immediate assumption that Kelsey ‘bottomed her way to the very top’ (that was brutal and I think all our jaws were with Quinn’s in hitting the floor in that moment), followed of course by Liza running after her, Diana not wanting to hear any excuses for Kelsey and the great office reveal as Liza tells a room full of colleagues, who may or may not have all started that day because who are all these people and what do they do, that she is the 28 year old associate having an affair with the publisher. It was momentarily comical until Liza turned to see Diana’s expression. My heart hurts even thinking about the scene that follows as Diana reassures Liza that it’s a story as old as time, the assistant sleeping with the boss, but as Liza continues to try and explain you can actually see Diana shutting down. Miriam Shor deserves every freaking award for the way she conveyed so much just with her eyes. 

Diana meeting with Redmond (what a treat having him in the premiere too!) absolutely epitomized how much value this show can get out of a short scene that’s well written and wonderfully acted. The entire exchange, from Redmond wanting the goss on the regime change (I love that he wasn’t even available but couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get some dirt and asking whether Kelsey’s feet touch the floor in Charles’ chair, all the LOLs), to Diana asking him to put the word out she’s looking for a new job (one of my fave lines of the ep, ‘oh Redmond, if I wanted it kept quiet I would’ve never come to you’) was an utter joy to watch. Despite the brevity, this scene captured the real feel of Younger for me, the setting, the conversation, something about it just oozed that essence that has been running through the entire series, almost like a familiarity that re-orientated me amidst all the newness I was trying to get my head around.

There was something so domestic, in the best possible way, about Enzo opening the door to Kelsey and Liza and I adore that they went to Diana’s apartment in the hope of finding her. Kelsey being warned by Zane not to lose Diana was a really surprising but lovely moment, I enjoyed their scene a lot; Kelsey admitting how hard the job is, Zane being open about trying to figure out his next move (we now know he’s not at Chicky...lol the comment about his dicky), I see the set up and it’ll be interesting to see how their relationship will play out this season. So for now Zane is being a friend to Kelsey and it was thanks to this that she and Liza were able to find Diana at Marie’s Crisis and we were blessed with the most surreal Younger experience to date, a rendition of 9 to 5 which we’d already seen prior to the ep but I will happily watch as many times as is offered. And while the Dolly tribute was an absolute treat, the part of this scene that lingered with me was prior to that, when Kelsey and Liza first find Diana and Kelsey tells her how much she respects and values her (my Kelsey love in this moment is possibly the realest it’s ever been). 

As Diana explains that the problem is she’s not a millennial, my fragile heart actually broke. I understand on the one hand that Liza revealing her age in this moment may have been too much on top of the Charles news, but the other part of me wanted and needed her to take Diana, sit her down and tell her the whole damn truth. I said it at the end of last season but at this point, Diana not knowing about Liza’s age feels cruel. I understand Liza not being able to declare her real age publicly but there’s absolutely no reason she couldn’t tell Diana. I am hoping that she will find out in the very near future because I feel like Diana Trout and Liza Miller both openly in their 40′s will be next level and I need this friendship please and thank you.

You know another friendship between people in their 40′s I love? Bob and Charles. So imagine my delight when this scene started and we have Bob’s tiny mind being blown as he discovers that the woman Charles has been speaking to him about for the past 4 years is actually Liza, ‘the yodelling mom’. So we have Bob giving Charles some real talk and the mirroring of Charles starting over to Liza way back in season 1 is duly noted, but if you look up Swoon-worthy in any dictionary you will in fact see a clip of Charles saying ‘I can’t explain it, when I’m with her I feel...free’ playing on a continuous loop. This show and these lines I swear, RIP: Me.

As I’m sure you have gathered, this ramble is not following the chronology of the episode, so I want to jump back to a scene that I have been waiting for with a ridiculous amount of excitement and that is the Maggie and Charles meeting. I cannot explain why, but my desire to see these two meet has been strong and unrelenting and the fact Charles wandered into the lounge with his shirt open and completely unaware Maggie was there was everything I didn’t know I wanted. I appreciated Maggie’s appreciation of the male form but boy she sure didn’t waste any time getting her grill on. I do love how ferociously protective of Liza Maggie is and I get that there is clearly the need to set in motion a potentially ominous foreshadowing, but truthfully, this scene felt too rushed to me. Like, what happened after Maggie said ‘no-one ever does it on purpose’? Did they sit there awkwardly in silence? Did Charles ask Maggie if she wanted to do the quiz in the newspaper when he got to that part in his cover to cover read? I wanted more but I also felt a bit disappointed that there wasn’t a little more lightness in their first meeting. I have no doubt we will see more of them interacting, so hopefully we will still get Maggie and Charles bonding and becoming friends.

Maggie’s friendship with Josh is still one I really enjoy and the conversation about getting a paternity test was a nice way to bring Josh, Maggie and Liza together, bonus points to the use of the phone assistant to create that great ‘things to do in Wililamsburg’ moment. I have to say, Josh and Clare’s conversation when she was getting him up to speed and he felt the baby kick was lovely. His joy and disbelief was palpable. I found the whole scene to be really beautiful and I am one of the people who was always a fan of Clare, I really liked her and Josh together and I still feel like they have a really great, natural chemistry. I also felt like Josh being the dad was never really a question because I simply cannot see the point in bringing back pregnant Clare if he wasn’t, but Kelsey’s ‘holy shit’ reaction was great as was the conversation that followed between him and Liza. 

I really enjoyed their banter about Liza being a baby whisperer and her reassurance that ‘I got you’, I desperately want to see this relationship as a true friendship because the potential is there. But I gotta say, I’m a bit conflicted about Josh bringing up the fact that they broke up because Liza didn’t want him to give up having a kid and suggesting that they could be together if she wasn’t with someone else. I appreciate that it is realistic that this news would make both Josh and Liza reflect on their relationship given that having a baby was a significant reason for them breaking up, but bringing it up then and the implication that if Liza was single now they could be together just sort of ruined the moment for me. And it’s nothing to do with me wanting Liza with Charles, regardless of who she ends up with or without, for me this is how trying to keep love triangles alive in tv shows starts disrupting character and story growth and progression. 

I wanted to hear Josh talk about feeling the baby kick and for Liza to tell him some funny anecdote about when she was pregnant and was kicked in the bladder and peed herself in the supermarket. I realised I was feeling a bit resentful that I got pulled from this moment of enjoying the current place their relationship is at and back into this whole ‘look what we could have been’ because it feels tiresome and stagnant, but I’m sure there are many fans who feel differently. I liked the echo of Josh’s ‘timing’ by Liza. I felt like hers had a different meaning, that timing was bigger than just their singledom and parenthood aligning. I still overall really enjoyed their interaction, and I am looking forward to seeing how this relationship moves forward this season.

Liza bringing Diana coffee was the perfect way to show that things will be ok between them (until the age reveal that is...and yes Diana, I agree re: Liza’s outfit) and I’m quite sure that necklace Diana is wearing can be seen from space. I do like it when it feels like the balance has been restored and this was only made better by the phone call from Maggie to share the new bed arrival news. I feel like Maggie might be warming up to Charles after this.

Full disclaimer: this part will contain gushing. I tell you, this end scene of the ep was just too much. The expression on Charles’ face when he opened the door to Liza, ugh GUSH, such pure delight to see her and her joy in receiving the gift that she thought was nothing more than a joke, GUSH. Seeing these two so candid and giddy is everything. How far our Liza has come, from when we first met her and she was worried she’d forgotten how to have sex to now unabashedly telling the man she’s with that she thought she’d spend her lunch time thanking him in person (there are so many dirty puns I wanna use here but I shall refrain). I love their continued openness as she acknowledges missing Charles at work and he misses being there, but the way Charles’ reciprocation of Liza’s ‘love you’ from the start of the ep is delivered, I may have actually melted. As in, I am now liquid goo. Liza’s reaction as she asks ‘did you just tell me you love me?’ is divine and while we’ve heard the ‘I’ve pretty much had feelings for you for 16 years’ in numerous promos, Charles’ ‘long enough to know’ was what led to any remnants of my heart not shattered by the Diana ordeal to explode.

Zane’s interruption is only acceptable because Liza’s ‘hello’ is so damn hilarious and I love that they are two grown ass adults who were busted making out. And while I know that we are left with a lingering sense that Charles and Zane are up to something potentially secretive/shady as Liza leaves, I am HERE for Charles and Zane working together. I love the idea of Charles and Zane vs. Liza and Kelsey. I have no idea if that is where this is going, but I do know this smells of a set up for some serious DRAH-MAH and ngl, I am in 100%.

So all in all, what a cracking start to season 6. SO much going on, I think we’re in for a wild one. 

[sunlitroom]

Gotham – s5e08 – Nothing’s Shocking

As I watched it, and some random observations here and there.

Previously on Gotham:

Bye-bye, Wayne Manor.  Mr Penn is dead.  Jim and Barbara had a mini-fling in his office. Lee forgot she spent the last few months banging Ed and got judgey with Jim.  Barbara said Jim didn’t think she was fit to be a mother.  Oswald is leaving Gotham by submarine. Jeremiah’s actions caused toxic chemicals to be spilled into the river.  We have a lovely flashback from season one, with Harvey’s old partner.  Remember season one?  Those were the days.

None of the super-intense Bruce and Jeremiah stuff made the previously?  O….k.

 As always, long post will be long.  There are likely to be rambling digressions. Gobblepot might appear (although I welcome all shippers and non-shippers alike :)).  There will be naked favouritism and naked not-favouritism.  Broader comments at the end on plotlines and parallels and general direction.

Sirens, where a sequinned Barbara chats to a patron.  She distastefully eyes two older men who are very much not in the style of her usual clientele – but allows them one drink, after much pleading, when they give her a small piece of intel about heating oil on the black market.

As they’re standing at the bar, they are approached and jovially greeted by Harvey’s old partner – much healthier than we saw him last.  His face hardens for a moment as he asks them if they ever think about the girl. They frown – and ask him what he’s talking about.  Stone-faced now, he replies

About what we did to the girl

Barbara notices a third old guy in her establishment and is irate.  She strides towards them

It’s like the living dead in here

While she’s walking towards them, Dix pulls two knives and stabs each of the men in the throat.  He leaves before their bodies even hit the floor – blood spurting from the wounds.

 At the hospital – Alfred is asking a woman to repeat her story for Mr Wayne

A pale and injured woman says that she’s with a group living in a shelter in the west of the city. There’s so much uncertainty and fear with the river poisoned, it should have been awful, but they came together and made it a home.

Recently there’s been rumours about something underneath the building, in the basement and sewers. People have gone missing.  She and her husband went to investigate. Something attacked them.  She was knocked out, and when she woke – he was gone. She turns to Bruce, tearful.

Please Mr Wayne – we have a daughter

Bruce tells her they do everything they can.  He walks a little away with Alfred and asks if they should tell Jim (he actually says Gordon – which seems a little odd).  Alfred says he’s stretched thin.  Bruce eyes Alfred carefully.  Alfred tells Bruce that lady sent for them, a man is missing – what does he think they should do.  Bruce looks at him and replies:

Let's go find them

 At Sirens.  Harvey and Jim have come to investigate.  Barbara tells them that under normal circumstances she wouldn’t call them for a couple of stiffs.  She’d handle it herself, and generate about four more corpses in the process.

(An aside – just a quick one – but look at how rootless and redundant Oswald seems later in this episode, and how much better running the bar and hoarding intel would suit him.  I know they don’t really know what do with Barbara, but it really is irritating.)

Jim asks why she called. She nods at the corpses

Take a look

Harvey knows them - Boggs and Lewis – cops from before Jim’s time.  Barbara says that they offered 3rd rate intel and begged a drink.  Some other fossil knifed them.  She frowns.

Nicks, Hicks, Dix

Harvey shakes his head at the mention of Dix’ name.  He was in a wheelchair – could never walk in.  No way

Barbara doesn’t particularly care.  She rubs her bump and looks a little tired.  She tells Harvey she called as a courtesy, and he’s confusing her for someone who cares.  

Jim and Harvey have a quick private talk.  Harvey says that he doesn’t even know he's still in Gotham.  Guiltily, he says he meant to check up on him, but….he trails off. Jim says they still need to talk to him.

Jim walks to Barbara at the bar and asks how she’s feeling.  She says she’s fine - thanks for asking.  Jim says he’s been giving her space, but they need to talk about how this will work, since he’s

Going to be part of this kid's life

She says he seems confident. He says he is.  Reunification will happen, and she should think about what’s coming, and what kind of person she wants to be when it does.  Doesn’t she want the chance to start anew?

Barbara juts her chin

I like who I am

Jim eyes her disbelievingly

Uh huh

And leaves.

(An aside.  Jim doesn’t seem to consider, or maybe won’t allow himself to consider, that one reason Barbara clings to her new identity and role is because the old one, who had a life all planned with him, is too painful to ever imagine revisiting.  It’s also interesting to get a glance at his psychological workings.  Jim was absolutely up to his neck in it with the whole Sofia Falcone business – but that’s OK now because he’s moved on and decided to turn over a new leaf.  Is it as simple as that, then?  The past is excusable if you decide to turn over a new leaf?   All sins forgiven?  It’s not exactly the philosophy we’ll hear him espousing later with Harvey.

 In the library with Ed, where it’s seemingly always drafty.  Ed is working on the submarine when several bells chime – his alarm system

(A quick aside before proceeding.  I found this C plot pretty dreadful – to the point that I was bored and irritated when the action moved away from the A and B plots to come back here.  Given how much I adore Oswald, that’s a pretty big statement.  I’m going to summarise where possible – except when I feel the need to whine – because these take a long time and hurt my hands)

It’s Oswald.  Ed snaps that he was due ages ago.  Oswald brushes this off, saying that he’s brought lunch and met Dale (a hulking man Oswald obviously sees as useful muscle)

Ed snarls that they’re supposed to have a secret plan to get off the island – how can he trust this man? Oswald snips back that Dale is mute and dumb as a post, and that Ed is paranoid.  Ed says they’re being watched – hence the alarms system

Oswald seems unconcerned, picking up random bits of metal and asking how the

SS Gertrud is coming along?

(Oh, Oswald)

Ed says the sonar is very complex. Oswald, checking his nails through a magnifying glass, says he is confident he will figure it out.

Ed snatches the glass from him

Of course I will!  I figure everything out, because I'm the only one working!

(An aside.  Well – Oswald is very clever, but he’s not a scientist or an engineer.  Would you really want him helping?  Probably not. The best person to work on this with Ed would be Lucius.  Maybe Ed’s snit is because he’s daydreaming about Lucius striding in to help him. Maybe push him up against a filing cabinet again.)

An irritated Oswald reminds Ed that he stole all the valuable stuff, and he’ll be giving Ed half.

Ed yells that Oswald’s goons stole that for him, and then Oswald killed them

(An aside – again, stupid. Oswald’s a kingpin – he doesn’t do his own burglaries.  Ordering them to do it amidst all the chaos and commandeering a building with a vault was the clever bit)

The bells ring again. Oswald and Ed squabble over who it might be.  NotGabe is about to shoot when the door opens, but Oswald stops him.  It’s……Mr Penn.

Hello Mr Cobblepot

Oswald is genuinely happy to see him, laughing, and grabbing his shoulders.  Oswald being Oswald, his mood turns in a second to irate

You’re only coming to me now?!

Penn replies that he wouldn't let me.  Oswald asks who.  Turning to the case he carried in with him, Penn pulls out an old wooden dummy of a gangster.

This is Mr Scarface

Oswald turns to Ed, who offers a sarcastic wonderful

Oswald turns back to Penn, and stares at him askance

Outside Dix’ apartment. Jim is telling a somewhat unhappy Harvey that even if he’s sure Dix is in the clear - they have to ask

Harvey says that’s not it – he should have visited before now.  Jim shrugs.

Look - what can you do, right?

Wow -we’re getting insights into Jim’s psychology all over the place today.  No point stressing about what you’ve done, or not done, and as long as you turn over a new leaf, it doesn’t count anyway.  Is this why he’s forgetful when it comes to saying sorry? I mean – don’t get me wrong – it’s important not to let things fester, and important to move on, but I kind of feel there’s a line between mature closure and the determination to do better, and a vaguely sociopathic blitheness over past transgressions.

When they knock the door, they’re greeted with a hole being blown in it.   After a bit of yelling, they go inside and meet Dix, who feels that his home security system is justified given the state of the city, before he and Harvey have a guilt-ridden little exchange

Figured you forgot about me.

Look, partner, when the bridges came down, I got busy and….

Oh, sure, sure.  You forgot me.  Everybody forgets.

I didn't forget.

Jim, meantime, is looking round.  He spots a case on the bed and asks Dix if he’s planning on taking a trip.  He offers a cagey ‘maybe’ in response.  Jim asks where he was last night.  Dix responds with a blustery

You asking me if out there killing Boggs and Lewis?  I heard about that

Jim says Dix was a detective - what would he say in the same situation. Dix agrees he’d think the same thing, but reiterates that he didn’t do it, and says he’s packing a case because he’s worried he’s next.

He looks significantly at Harvey, who looks worried.  Jim ushers Harvey to the side and asks what the connection is.  Harvey sheepishly says they all worked a case back when Harvey was a rookie. A woman killed husband – but it was all open and shut.  He insists it wasn’t Dix

A disbelieving Jim says that Barbara told them the bartender heard the name Dix, and tells Harvey this stinks.

There’s a hammering at the door.  Confusingly, it’s another Dix.  In a scuffle with Jim, which Jim wins – the second Dix’s face comes off in his hand.

 Alfred and Bruce wander through the sewers, which apparently run alongside the river.  Bruce adds bitterly that the river is now filled with Jeremiah’s toxins.

They hear a weird noise, which they follow.  Alfred finds a hand – which appears to have bite marks on it.  He can’t tell, though, whether it’s animal or human.  Peering down the tunnel, the blood trail suggests whatever did it dragged the rest of body in this direction.  They follow.

At GCPD, Harvey, Dix and Jim are talking.  The mask they removed from the attacker seems to be made of human skin.  Jim quotes a name at Harvey that makes him startle, Victoria Cartwright.  Harper cross-referenced a bunch of old cases to get the name. Harvey and Dix look uncomfortable, and Jim asks if Harvey’s going to tell him what he’ll find in the file.

Harvey replies that she was the wife of a banker.  He and Dix take turns telling the story.

She led a very boring life. Until she snapped and put two 38 calibre slugs into her husband. End of story.

Jim is unimpressed

You guys rehearse that?

He says the file states that there was no physical evidence.

Harvey says she was convicted on her 7-year-old daughter’s evidence.  He blusters a little, and says they should be looking for Clayface – not messing about with this.  

Jim asks Harper for the Cartwrights’ old address – which is apparently in the greenzone.  A stung Harvey asks if Jim is benching him.  Jim tells him to keep an eye on his partner

Back at the library, Oswald tries to reason with Penn – but makes him indignant by getting his name wrong. Ed goes back to work – but is half-listening.

Apparently Scarface knows about Oswald’s treasure.  A concerned Oswald says that Penn needs rest and a psychiatrist.  Ed scowls at this.  I’m not sure why.  The reminder that his own fractured personality needs professional care? Because he doesn’t want to share the loot with Penn?  Because he’s trying to concentrate?  This whole plot is such a redundant muddle.

The puppet insults Oswald and tells him to shut up.  There’s a squabble which results in notGabe being shot in the chest so Oswald will take Scarface seriously.

 At GCPD, where Harvey and Dix are talking over the mess they’re in.  Apparently, Boggs and Lewis were idiots, and should have realised that Dix couldn’t walk.  

They both ponder whether think the Cartwright girl said something

There’s a pause, and Harvey asks whether Dix has been getting food and medicine

What if I said no?

I'd feel like crap

No.

Harvey laughs, and Dix playfully bats his face.  He then reassures him the Cartwright girl is dead.  Some buddy of his was a screw at Arkham and told him she died a few years ago – so this has nothing to do with her.  Oh dear.

 Jim and Harper approach an old house.  It looks deserted and dilapidated.  It’s daytime, but the weather looks squally and depressing.  We see that they are watched from a high window, and hear a soft sigh.

Jim and Harper call out that they are coming in.  The house still has furniture, but looks like someone simply stopped the clocks and left it alone – no sign of looting or vandalism. In a nod to The Changeling, there’s a dusty old-fashioned child’s wheelchair in the corner of the room.  

Jim wanders to the mantelpiece and picks up a photograph.  It’s a family scene – but only the mother’s face remains – the daughter and husband’s have been scratched out.

The cop assisting Jim and Harper searches upstairs.  He enters a large attic.  We hear wind whistling through the windows, and hear shaky breathing coming from someone wearing a plain white mask.

The masked person watches as the discomfited cop finds a dressing table with lots of masks on it. As he steps back, the masked person emerges to stand behind him, and stabs him in the back.

At the sound of him hitting the floor, Harper and Jim go to investigate.  As they’re still making their way upstairs, we see the masked woman touch the cop’s face and moan as she absorbs it, and then becomes him.

Jim and Harper are now in the attic.  We see one of those very creepy old porcelain dolls on a chair.  Jim and Harper remark that there’s been someone living here. Pop pop in the attic.

Harper asks what the smell is

The cop emerges from the other room – telling them that it’s all good – no-one is here.  Jim looks quickly through the crack in the door to the room he emerged from, and sees the cop’s body on the floor.

Turning quickly, he decks the fake cop.  On the ground, the face changes, and the girl whimpers.

Don't look at me!  Don’t look at me!

Back at GCPD, Jim is interrogating the suspect, who is still masked.   Jim’s tone is harsh

We found your handiwork.  Nothing to say? You're gonna have to take that mask off.  The only way you're gonna keep that mask on is if you talk. Otherwise, I'm gonna reach over this table, and I'm gonna rip it off of your face.

Harvey watches from behind the glass.

The girl looks to the side. Jim asks again

Who are you?

She answers,

Nobody

Jim tilts his head

You're not Jane Cartwright? Because you were in her childhood home.  You're about the right age.  Talk to me, Jane.  I know after your mother was convicted, you ended up a ward of the state. In and out of institutions until you ended up in Arkham. Then you vanished. Some say died. What happened to you?

We see tears rise in Jane’s eyes.

Me?  Nothing happened to me

Jim looks at her carefully, and tries a different tack.

Okay.  What happened to Jane?

She looks at him

Oh.  Lots happened to Jane.

Harvey is still watching.

She was taken from Arkham.  Down, down down, the doctor did things to her, experiments on her and others.

Jim tilts his head. Hugo Strange?

She answers.

The professor was obsessed with the power to change. The way a chameleon would change its skin. He wanted humans to have that power. He made it so Jane could change her skin her bones, her hair, the colour of her eyes. All it takes is a single touch, and her body becomes a mirror. When it's done, she sheds her skin and starts anew. It remembers everyone it touched.  

She pauses.

It's touched you, Detective.

Harvey watches – face sombre.  

Jim tells her we can help you, Ms Cartwright

She talks in an odd, soft, flattened voice

Jane Cartwright is dead.  She died in Arkham.  That's when Jane Doe was born.

Jim asks why she killed all the cops.  She tells him to ask his friend, and then leans back in her chair.  Jim leaves.

Once he’s gone, Jane slowly pulls her hand though the cuffs.  It’s very like Eugene Victor Tooms – if you remember the X-Files. I nearly expected that odd incidental string music to play

 Alfred and Bruce are still following creepy sounds.  Bruce’s torch dies.  A man runs at them, yelling, and tackles Bruce to the ground.  He’s clearly terrified and turns out to be Hank. Apparently everyone else is dead.

Almost immediately, a large monstrous man appears and there’s a big brawl.  He hits Bruce and drags Hank away, chased by Bruce and Alfred.

 Back at the library. The sudden loss of tension when we arrive back here is really obvious.  I love Oswald, and Ed is never boring – but this is dull.

Oswald wants to understand this.  Look – I’m summarising: Penn woke up in the morgue, recuperated in a magic shop, and poured all his festering resentment and rage into the puppet.  He tells Oswald he chewed him up and spat him out

(A quick aside. Did Oswald treat Penn badly during his annoying dictator phase?  Yes.  Was Penn Sofia Falcone’s mole in Oswald’s organisation?  Yes.  Is it actually surprising that Oswald didn’t shoot him on sight?  Yes.)

Oswald says this is a lie, but Ed decides to wade in

Please Oswald – it’s what you do

(An aside. Not sure how much damage the chip did to Ed’s head, but he’s seemingly forgotten that unpleasant and coercive incident where he – to all intents and purposes – trapped Oswald in his apartment, ignored his wishes, drugged him, manipulated his grief, used him – all so he could get murder lessons.)

Scarface wants the treasure and to be boss.  There’s squabbling back and forth.  Ed cuts in again.

You know what, Oswald? Honestly, you deserve this.  You are opportunistic, your loyalty is shaky, at best, and you will hurt anyone, anyone to get what you want.

Oswald snaps back

I hardly think you're one to throw stones!

(An aside – again, it just doesn’t work.  Oswald is undoubtedly opportunistic.  But he’s loyal to a select few.  And he will not hurt anyone to get what he wants – we’ve been explicitly told that his heart is his biggest weakness. Oswald at least throws the accusation back at him – but it’s still stupid to start with)

To talk Scarface/Penn down from the current conflict – Ed offers him a place on the submarine. Whatever.

 GCPD, the locker room. Harvey is talking to Dix.  He says they did a bad thing.  Dix said they put a killer in jail – she was guilty and got what she deserved.

Harvey said they made the girl into a murderer.

He removes his tie

You, your friends, the kid – I’m gonna make sure you never do that again

‘Harvey’ lurches forward and strangles Dix with his tie

Outside, Jim asks Harper where Dix is.  She replies that Bullock took him in the back.

Barbara appears.  Her bartender heard say Dix say something before the kill, and she thought she’d be a good citizen and pass it on

The kid's guilty too

Jim frowns in thought. Barbara keeps talking

Listen what you said before, about me being a known criminal. I was on some list your army buddy had.  When the government rolls in, am I going be arrested?

Jim says he doesn’t know

Barbara juts her chin – eyes guarded

But that would work out for you, right?  I go to jail - you get the baby.

Jim says he doesn’t want that.

Barbara looks at him hard

Is that a promise? I go straight, I'm clear?

(An aside.  I mean – while it’s nice that Jim claims here he doesn’t want Barbara to go to jail and him keeping the baby – I’m not clear how he’s got here from telling her last week that she was an unfit mother. Barbara’s reasoning is entirely logical. Jim thinks she’s isn’t fit to look after a child.  Jim judges her at every opportunity.  Jim thinks she belongs in jail, and definitely not mothering his child.

There’s something kind of alarmingly Victorian about all this.  Jim likes the idea of being the staid authority figure.  Then you have Barbara, the woman fallen from aristocratic grace.  And then there’s the child – that would be removed from her and brought up without the tainted association.  

In short, you can see how Barbara got there.  What I can’t see is what led to Jim’s apparent change of heart.)

Their conversation is interrupted by Harvey’s arrival.  Jim tell her to stay put, then asks where he took Dix.  Harvey says he didn’t - they realise something is wrong, and rush off.

Entering the locker room, Harvey rushes over to Dix’s body.  Jim says jane must have taken some of Harvey’s clothes from his locker so she could change shape.

Harvey’s in shock, though, and not listening.  Jim has to shake him and tell him they’re going to find her.  They leave.

 Down in the sewers, Bruce and Alfred fight big angry toxin man.  Bruce flings shards of glass at him to give Alfred the advantage, but then has to stop Alfred from beating him to death.

 Jim and Harvey head back out of the locker room, yelling that GCPD is now in lockdown, and that Jane can look like anyone

Barbara appears at the door, calling for Jim, claiming to have been attacked.  Jim asks how he can know it’s her.

On cue, a second Barbara appears – and we have instant confusion.  One of the Barbaras claims

It's me, you idiot

Which Harvey feels is convincing, but Jim asks

Tell me where we first met?

One can’t answer and grabs the real Barbara – putting a gun to her head. There’s some pushing and shoving.  Jane flees, and Barbara is pushed to the floor.  Jim tells Harper to take her to his office and not let her out of sight.

 Back at the library. Again – I’ll be summarising. Ed is berating Oswald for playing along with Penn’s psychosis and giving him a share of the treasure.  He says he has an idea and he’ll give a signal.

Penn decides he’s going along with the submarine plan – but Oswald is to be shot.

Oswald pleads – talks about their shared past, but it’s not working.  He says he took him into his home, and adds

And yes, I was not a good friend.  To you or to anyone.   (He glances at Ed here) It's why I'm alone.  But I saw you for what you are, and I valued that. That’s got to be worth something.

(An aside.  What now?  I’m not saying Oswald’s perfect – but come on.  He voluntarily went to Arkham to protect Jim.  He didn’t kill Tabitha back in season 3 because he knew it would hurt Butch.  He visited Ed in Arkham, and took him gifts.  For goodness sake – he even tried to forge a friendship with Sofia Falcone.

I honestly find this exhaustingly bad.  I know that the true purpose of this scene is apparently to give us some kind of final message on how Oswald and Ed are actually friends – but if the only way you can do that is by isolating them in their own storyline and explicitly making the whole plot about their friendship, then you’ve failed.  Sorry.  Stuff like this should be evident week by week, in the smallest details.  It’s there, for example, every time Selina and Alfred exchange a look about Bruce’s idealism.  Or when Harvey watches Jim with genuine concern.  It was even there, recently, when Ed’s eyes lit up when Lucius acknowledged his expertise.  

I don’t really understand why it hasn’t happened with Ed and Oswald – all I know is that it hasn’t.  I’ve never made any bones about the fact that I’ve found this relationship poorly written, ooc and inconsistent – but wow, was it ever apparent here.  Whereas the other relationships I’ve mentioned seem solid and well-constructed, and speak for themselves - this relationship feels like it’s held together with duct tape while someone keeps yelling ‘isn’t this great!? Isn’t it the best!?  OMG!! Such a deep scene!’)

Anyway.  Penn yells that all Oswald does is take take take and never gives anything.  He’s a liar and a thief.  Mr Penn.  You’re nice enough – but you chose to work for gangsters.  What were you expecting?

Ed makes one of the instruments emit a hideous noise.  In the confusion, there’s a scuffle, and Oswald shoots the puppet.  Penn’s face clears, and he thanks Oswald

Mr Cobblepot - you freed me! How ever can I thank you?

He smiles at Oswald, who smiles tearily back.  The moment is brief, since Ed decides – at that point – to murder Mr Penn, shooting him in the head.

I’m just going to give the dialogue now.  

Why did you do that? He wasn't the threat.  The dummy was the threat!

Oswald. I accept you for the person that you are - just as you accept me for the cold logician that I am. That's why this friendship is great. And as friends, I think we can both agree that that lunatic had to be stopped.

Oswald laughs hysterically - a little like when he realised his father had been poisoned.

Perhaps, Edward we really are meant for each other.

They both laugh

(An aside – CMS is fantastic, and he can convey about 20 emotions with just a flicker of his eyes. Even he, though, cannot sell the execrable line just as you accept me for the cold logician that I am – it sounds written, unnatural.  

Aside from that – how lovely.  Oswald almost had another friend, and Ed murdered him – maybe to cut him out of the treasure profits – being a cold logician and all, but possibly just to deprive Oswald of a friend, because his relationship with Oswald has always been queasily abusive.  It’s maybe another reason it’s never worked for me.  I like relationships that have more of a push/pull in terms of power dynamics. This has always just been a needy Oswald and a manipulative Ed.  It leaves me queasy, and I genuinely dislike that two incredibly strong characters’ recent screen time has been reduced to this interaction)

Back at the creepy Cartwright house.  We hear crows cawing outside.  They’ve really gone full-tilt on the horror aspects of this storyline

Harvey searches the house, gun drawn.  He calls Jane’s name.  We see a sad Father Christmas decoration in one of the boxes he passes – adding to the sadness of the whole scene: a family life and childhood gone wrong, cut short, abandoned.

In the attic now. Harvey calls that he knows she’s up here.  He finally spots her, standing with her face to the wall

I knew you'd be here.  I'm sorry. It was my job to protect you, and I let you down.

Jane tearfully tells him

You made Jane into a killer.  You and your three friends.  There have to be consequences

You killed three men already.  When is it enough?

When you're dead.

Jane raises a gun. Harvey aims at her

Put the gun down!

Poor Jane’s voice cracks

Shoot me.  You killed Jane years ago, and you didn't even know it…. Just shoot me.

Harvey looks pained. He loosens his grip on his gun a little, and asks her, pleadingly

Let me see your face. Your real face.

Jane is aghast.

Why? So you can see what a monster she is? Hugo Strange only destroyed her face. You destroyed her soul.

Harvey asks again

Let me see it.

Jane takes the mask off. It’s horribly, achingly sad – because there’s nothing wrong with Jane’s face.  

You see? You see what they did?

Harvey continues to try and reason with her.

Jane we can work this out.  Just put the gun down.

Jane is resolved, though and refuses

The only way this ends is with one of us dead.

They shoot.  Jane falls to the floor.  Harvey’s hands start to tremble, and he shakily lifts one of them to shield his face, deeply upset by what has happened.

(An aside.  This story was excellent.  The whole plot managed to be both sad and genuinely creepy at points. Jane was deeply pitiable, betrayed and abandoned – and Harvey’s grief at his actions and their consequences felt real. The moment at the end where he covers his eyes honestly felt like a punch to the gut.

Compared with the nonsense we had in the preceding scene, the contrast is stark)

 At the hospital with Alfred and Bruce.  Hank has been returned to his wife.  

Alfred and Bruce step away. There’s some brief chat about recklessness, and how they should have involved Jim.  A serious Bruce tells Alfred he agrees, and tells Alfred there are better ways to find absolution.  He goes on to reassure him that what happened to Wayne Manor was not his fault

Alfred is angry he wasn’t strong enough to resist what happened – and now Bruce lost a tie to his past, lost his home.  He swears he’ll never be that weak again.

Bruce looks at him fondly, and tells him that part of being a family is being strong for each other

Alfred smiles and asks him when he got so smart.  Bruce grins.

I had a good teacher

 At GCPD.  Harvey sits across from Jim at his desk.

Victoria Cartwright killed her husband.  She admitted it, then recanted.  There was no physical evidence.

He pauses

I wanted to make detective

Jim cuts in

So you leaned on Jane.  Coerced a statement out of her to put her mother away.

Harvey retorts that the woman was guilty, but adds

We later found out that the husband beat the mother and Jane

Jim sighs

The bartender heard Jane say the 'kid was guilty too’.  She meant you.

Harvey looks down

I knew something was wrong, felt it – but I was told to keep my trap shut. And after a while, I stopped feeling it – and I went down that path for a long time, until I met you. However much I've changed, I can't change the past. I made that girl a killer.

Jim regards him – not much warmth on his face.

What do you want from me, Harvey? Forgiveness? Can't give that to you.

I just needed you to know.

Harvey leaves, closing the door firmly behind him.  Jim stays at his desk

 Ghosts in the attic and monsters in the basement….

I know it’s probably not what was intended, but I had to sit through that nonsense in the library, so I intend to enjoy my metaphors and meta meaning that probably wasn’t intended.

Harvey’s always seemed haunted.  He’s haunted by his dirty past.  He’s haunted by a likely future where he’ll wind up taking a bullet protecting Jim. And he’s haunted by the notion of an alternative future, one where Jim never showed up, and Harvey just sinks further into complacency and corruption.

We actually got to meet one of his ghosts this week.  Jane is a sad, tormented ghost whose life held far too much suffering.  Beaten by her father, bullied by policemen to betray her mother, enduring God knows what as a ward of the state before she ended up in Arkham, and then finally in Indian Hill, as one of Hugo Strange’s playthings.  Harvey might not have been responsible for all her troubles – but his part in it a good call-back to one of the preoccupations of season one, the destructive power of a cumulative lack of compassion and integrity – one selfish, neglectful act at a time.  Jane’s a victim of Gotham as much as a victim of her father: of a corrupt police department and selfish cops, of a lack of care for the vulnerable and mentally ill, and of the elites who allowed Hugo to flourish.

Bruce, meantime, is wandering around in the basement, where Jeremiah’s presence is everywhere: from the chemicals coating the walls to the creatures he created.  He only mentions his name once in this episode, but it’s freighted with anger and bitterness.  Jeremiah is the creature lurking in the basement that Bruce can hardly bring himself to name.

I said last week that some aspects of Bruce and Jeremiah’s confrontation played oddly.

First of all – Bruce consistently exhibited concern for Jerome, as well as a sense of responsibility for him.  It is not logical that this is not the case for Jeremiah, who is essentially Jerome’s last victim, and not in his right mind.  Bruce instead seems viscerally angry and betrayed by Jeremiah.  His treatment of him is markedly different than his treatment of just about anyone else you could name.  I’d argue that that other place you see this is in Jim’s visceral response to Oswald, who – for reasons Jim probably doesn’t care to consider – can get under his skin like no-one else.

Something that deadened the tension was the fact that the easiest way to defuse the situation, or at least make Jeremiah stumble, was to simply give him what he asked: an acknowledgment that a connection existed between them.  That was Jeremiah’s sole stated wish.  It seemed easy enough.  We know Bruce is clever and pragmatic – shrewd at reading others’ needs – but he somehow can’t bring himself to say it.  Why not?  Why couldn’t Bruce say this – when he knows the consequences would endanger so many people?

What you’re left with, for me, is that there is a connection between them.  An personal connection – whereby Bruce cannot rationalise Jeremiah’s actions since the laughing gas, because he’s too badly hurt by the loss of him, and sees every act as a new betrayal.

Elsewhere, we saw some movement with Jim and Barbara.  He apparently doesn’t think she’s an unfit mother now – but I have no sense of what changed his mind. I understand that this is the big moral redemption of Barbara, but there’s something quite sinister in it being partially motivated by fear of the loss of her child.

I’m not wasting much more time talking about the C-plot, since it wasted quite enough time on its own.

I’ll be interested to see whether this has repercussions for Jim and Harvey’s relationship.  Harvey’s forgiven Jim a lot.  Jim didn’t have much comfort for him here.

I sort of feel that we should have seen Lee this week if we’re rebuilding her relationship with Jim to the point where a wedding would feel plausible.  Even a glance of her at the hospital would have worked – an off-hand line to Alfred or Bruce that suggested a thaw in relations.

It’s always tough to follow a Jerome or Jeremiah episode – they’re so intense and full-throttle as characters, but I felt that this did fairly well in the A and B plots.

 Thoughts?

[lemonjoonah]

I tend to ramble, so excuse the excessive amount of words. I’m- struggling to find the right words to express how much I adore your writings. ( maybe the right word could’ve been hooked? Or maybe enthralled? 😂🙊) I stumbled onto your tumblr page and now after binge reading everything!! I’m patiently waiting for an update, while that’s happening, it seems I’ve gotten the guts to ask a question. Do you have any writing tips for beginners?

Thank you so much 😊. You don’t ramble at all, if anyone tells you that you ramble reply by saying you’re simply building suspense 😂.

I’ve only been writing for a year and a bit myself, I have no formal writing training, but I would be happy to tell you what I’ve learned so far! 

Quick question to start off are you a plotter or a pantser? Do you plot your stories and chapters before you start writing or are you a panster who develops their ideas as they write? Depending on how you develop your ideas you might find that somethings work, while others don’t, there is no right or wrong way it’s just what works for you. 

Personally I am a plotter, a very heavy plotter. Some of my tips might not apply to your style and that’s okay, everyone’s different and I’m sure you’ll find your own way of going about it! There are a couple things that I find apply to both groups, so I’ll go into those first before I start covering more specific things. 

One of my favourite authors has a piece of advice that I will never forget. “Write for yourself” - V. E. Schwab. People aren’t that different, as long a you like your story others probably will too. If you try to cater to others before yourself you might find it difficult to write and your story might lack the uniqueness that is you. For example, in Artificially Inclined I was debating with myself on what the relationship between Jungkook and the Reader should be. It would have been so easy to start them off with an extremely sexual relationship, lets be honest smut often gets more views, I also plead guilty to searching specifically for smut. But going down that route didn’t feel genuine to me, while I like smut I am a sucker for a slow burn even more. Instead I started to delve into the ideas that would prevent her from pursuing that immediate intimate relationship. I hated the idea of not accepting him just because of what he is, so what would stop me, the answer of course is the ability consent. The whole story has now developed into something that speaks to me on a more personal level and it has become far more unique because of that. On that note please don’t be afraid to write for yourself!

If you are writing your first series personally I would wait to post after you’ve written a bit. I already had 55,000 to 60,000 words written before I started posting Under Fire (you don’t have to wait that long though lol, I was just really self-conscious). It went though several changes and variations before I started posting it. I found the further I got the more I had to change in the beginning. When I first started writing it I never intended Suga’s and the Readers relationship to be this intense. If I had started posting it right off the bat we all would have missed out on so much.

Which kinda brings me to my next point, know your end game! Whether you are a plotter or a pantser, have some idea of your end goal is very important for a number of reasons. It will keep you motivated, it will keep the flow of your story consistent, you won’t be struggling to figure out how to end your story, and its the surest way to know that the end of your story will go out with a bang rather than a fizzle. You don’t have to develop it first but I highly suggest knowing it before you post that initial chapter. 

Read! Read all the books! Some people look at me with confusion when I tell them I haven’t been writing long. They ask how I was able to develop a story like Under Fire as a first fic. I read, I read a lot! My bookshelves are my pride and joy. I wouldn’t be as developed in my writing skills if it weren’t for the books I’ve read. Give me a book with a fast paced plot, twists and turns and I will see you when I’m finished. That more than anything else has translated back to my writing. I pay attention to how the stories unfold, how authors can withhold information until the very end. Find a favourite author and pay attention to their style, take a look at their storytelling techniques.

Don’t be afraid to break the rules and develop your own style! I came across this issue when I first started writing Under Fire. I wanted to write the story from different points of view, to have unreliable narrators keep things hidden, and to allow them dive into their thoughts when they wanted to express them. To do that I had to have those POVs in first person but writing first person from another character’s POV in a reader insert usually takes away from the intimacy, you usually have to start referring to the MC as she or her. So I broke a rule… I had them still refer to the reader as you even when not in dialogue, which is not standard for first person.  I’ve gotten heat for this choice, believe me lol. People think I am switching between first and second person mid sentence but I’m really not, you are simply getting to hear those characters narrate to you their side of the story and their view of your character. Think of what the unknown POV would have been like in Part 15 of Under Fire had I not made this choice. To be able to hear the stream of thoughts of the character was so important. He was able to narrate directly to you how he would hold you, how he could please you even more than the person you were currently with. It is probably one of the hottest most intimate scenes I have ever written. I regret nothing 😊. 

Use your thesaurus! I always have at least one tab with my thesaurus open at all times. I tend to avoid using the same word more than once per paragraph, if I can avoid it I will, otherwise I find things start to sound repetitive. 

Now I am going to dive a bit more in to the realm of plotting so bear with me. I plot absolutely everything! First I plot the whole story, then as I write each chapter I plot the scenes, sometimes I even have to plot conversations with main points that the characters need to hit. That argument between the Reader and Namjoon in Part 15 of Under Fire had to be plotted.

If you run into a snag and are stuck between two paths try charting the outcomes and the differences between them. You’ll often find yourself leaning towards one option more than the other in the end.

Research, for me this is an absolute necessity! It often brings a bit more realism to my writing. Everything from locations and technology, to medical care. Not only does it help to make my stories more grounded but it helps me make the things I do need to create seem more believable. That dropnet override used by JK was a fabrication of mine when I couldn’t find what I needed, but the Range-R technology used in Part 9 is real. I spend hours researching stuff, with my next project Locks and Barriers I’ve probably spent as much time researching as I have writing it (more to come on that later).

Last but not least plot twists/hidden motives. For these I find plotting to be integral. Working backwards, going from the reveal back to the beginning of when it was set in motion, sometimes all the way back to the start of the story, this is why knowing your end game is so important. As long as you know the true motives for your characters they don’t always have to convey or revival themselves completely. You can always have information come up later on (this is a good method for avoiding info dumps too). Allow the readers to hunger for more information, have them searching for hints to a characters backstory. 

I hope you find at least some of this helpful. It kinda got away from me there lol. Thank you so much for asking this, and don’t be afraid to send another if you have any more questions, I’m always happy to respond to you guys! Good luck with writing!