#it means acknowledging that he wouldn't have made any other choice

[azrielbrainrot]

Your Name Is a Sin I Breathe Like Oxygen

Pairing: Demon!Rhysand x Angel!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Corruption

Description: Rhysand won't rest until he's brought his angel down to hell with him.

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, hand job, things that shouldn't be happening in a church, this is definitely sacrilegious, slight dom/sub dynamics, dirty talk

Word Count: 3,5k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Notes: This story kept getting longer and longer, i don't know what happened, but I could actually write a part 2 eventually if anyone wants. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

It's not often you find yourself walking alone. If you put aside the apprehension you were feeling you could admit that it was a beautiful night, and that walking through the field with only the faint sound of the wind and faraway crickets felt incredibly relaxing. Unfortunately, the reason behind this walk was anything but relaxing, in fact it was about to change your life forever.

An abandoned church comes into view, the fact that no believers lingered within should have been enough for you to turn back, but you find yourself walking towards it instead. The overgrown weeds and flowers obscured the path, one no one had used in decades - no one except for him, and now you.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as you walk closer, the undeniably dark energy coming from inside could only mean one thing. It makes you pause in your steps, walking to him would be giving in, you knew better than anyone, but walking away brought a weight to your chest you didn't think you could survive, didn't think you would want to.

And so you step inside, one foot in front of the other, leading you deeper into sin, straight to your downfall.

The inside of the church was barren, almost every object having been sold or destroyed by humans. Had he brought you here to show you how ungrateful and destructive humans could be? It certainly wasn't anything new to you.

The demon stood at the altar, back turned to you as he studied the way the weeds had traveled up the walls, obscuring any remaining holy images. The black clothes he wore were the complete contrast to your long white dress. The suit pants fit him perfectly, tailored to his body, and the shirt seemed to be made of a soft almost translucent material, showcasing the muscles hiding under it. There was no doubt in your mind that he had led numerous souls to perdition.

You knew he could feel your presence, probably ever since you set foot on this field. At first you almost feel thankful that he was choosing to ignore you and let you make your own decision with no rush, but it soon turned into annoyance when you realized he's forcing you to accept that you came here of your own choice, so you can't try to blame him. It shouldn't surprise you that he's not going easy on you, he never has.

“Rhysand,” you call out his name when it's obvious he won't be the one to acknowledge you first.

Your voice trembles despite your best efforts, and even though you've grown accustomed to seeing him, - more than you ever should have, - a chill still runs down your spine when he turns slowly and his striking violet eyes fall on you, heart racing in your chest as his smirk grows.

“I knew you wouldn't disappoint me, my sweet angel,” he says with a hint of pride.

His voice sends goosebumps over your skin, unfortunately you can't even bring yourself to try and justify them as a result of solely fear, there's something else blooming in the pit of your stomach, and growing heavier on your chest.

Rhysand walks to you, every instinct telling you to turn back and run, but you don't, you stay in place, watching him take every step with damning anticipation.

“Are you finally ready to stop playing these fruitless games?”

A glare passes through your eyes, but you hold your tongue. What he calls games was your duty to God and the remaining angels, to the good in the world, one you had failed completely by even breathing near him, let alone the lengthy talks you've had. Still, you couldn't deny that you had been grasping at it far longer than you should have.

If you were being honest with yourself, you had fallen the first time you saw him and let him tease you to no end without ever reaching for your sword, when you saw an injured demon and decided to help him instead of finishing the job, you lost the moment you allowed him to ever put a smile on your face, and a need you couldn't even begin to explain inside you.

He raises a hand slowly, tentatively reaching for your face, half expecting you to push him away like you had done every other time. When you still don't move, only looking into his eyes, not even sure what you were searching for, he lets out a breath, smirk broadening on his face, putting his sharp canines on display. He had already won, you both knew it.

“Not running from me this time?”

His hand cups your cheek, thumb caressing your skin softly, much too innocently for the look playing in his eyes and the dark energy emitting off him in thick waves. When the pad of his thumb runs over your bottom lip, playing with the plump flesh, and you still don't move, a sound suspiciously close to a moan escapes him.

“Gonna let me do anything I want to you?” He leans closer, breath hitting your skin, and you can't help but close your eyes, nails sinking into the palms of your hands, balling your fists as hard as you could. It was too much, he was too much.

A tremble runs through your form, that calm and collected front you put up crumbling with every second. You nod, eyes still closed and heart racing when you feel his lips fall on yours, delicately, so unlike him. This isn't something you ever remember doing, if you had at all, the memories of your human life had long since been erased, but your lips move against his as if kissing him came naturally to you.

When he pulls away, far too soon for your liking, you open your eyes on instinct, fear rearing its head as you watch him. The glamor he wore in the human world had been dropped, revealing sharp canine teeth and slits running through his beautiful violet irises. The marks etched onto his chest were unknown to you, but you recognized them as some sort of demonic spell.

His hand was wrapped around your neck, having moved there while he kissed you, except now it was covered in black up to his wrist, the pigment visible in lines as it ran through his veins up his arm. And his wings, you're surprised they hadn't been the first thing you noticed. They stood tall behind him, dark crimson bat-like wings, easily twice the size of your white feathered ones. You can't help, but pull your own in closer to your body at the sight.

Rhysand looked positively wicked, downright sinful, as he studied you intensely, eyes running through every inch of exposed skin with a knowing look shining in the violet. This was the face of a predator watching its prey, except he had no plans of killing you, and that excited you far too much for your own good.

“Need you to answer me, angel,” he purrs, holding onto your chin when you go to nod once again, “Use your words.”

Your eyes widen slightly, swallowing down the nerves before finally finding your voice, and whatever courage or stupidity you had left, “I won't run. Not from you.”

A moan escapes him, a pleased sound coming from deep in his chest, and he kisses you again, a lot more passionately than before, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth while you struggle to keep up. His hands roam over your body, sending a flurry of butterflies flying inside your stomach, pulling you closer into him, humming into the kiss when you finally manage to move, your hands reaching for his chest tentatively, falling over his overheated skin.

A noise behind him almost pulls your attention away, but he quickly steals it back when he starts kissing down your neck, biting softly onto the unmarred skin, marking it with his teeth, a demon was marking you as his own, and God helped you, you were moaning in pleasure as he did.

It's only when he starts walking backwards, a firm arm wrapped around your waist pulling you along with him and sits down, that you notice the sound you heard earlier was a chair being magically pushed to the center of the altar. Your body wants to follow him, wanting to keep his mouth on your neck, or bring it back to yours, but his hands fall on your hips, stopping you, keeping you on your feet, standing between his legs as he looks up at you with a smirk, one that keeps growing as he takes note of your heavy lidded eyes and soft pants escaping your agape mouth, the crease between your brows.

“I'll keep kissing you in a moment,” he assures, your treacherous body relaxing under his grip. He chuckles at this, you were certainly making this a lot easier for him than he imagined.

“Wanna take your dress off for me first?”

This makes you tense up once more, almost taking a step back if it weren't for his hold on you. He lets out an understanding hum, though it comes out tainted with a hint of condescension.

“I know they like keeping you innocent and pure up there, but if you want to keep going you'll have to let go of all of that.” He tilts his head, catching your gaze. “I can't fuck you properly with your clothes on.”

It's obvious you couldn't keep the embarrassment over his choice of words out of your expression when he laughs, leaning forward and hiding his face on your stomach, only worsening the already accelerated rhythm of your heart.

“I'm not sure how I feel about you using me for your own amusement,” you did your best to keep your voice from trembling, grasping for some sense of control over the situation.

“You know exactly how it makes you feel,” he murmurs against the fabric of your dress, kissing over your navel before leaning back against the chair, both of his hands falling from your body, and immediately you miss his warmth on you.

Rhysand doesn't say anything else, but he didn't need to, his eyes said it all as he watched you, he wouldn't repeat himself. You find yourself looking up behind him, where familiar statues should be if this were a working church. Could they see you now?

“Eyes on me,” the demon orders. Your gaze meets his immediately, a hint of fear running through your body. “The only people in the world that matter right now are you and me.”

He was wrong. Your actions would cause a lot of trouble and it wouldn't be only for you. The same way his triumph over you wouldn't affect only him. This moment would be recorded in history for both of your worlds, but you had already made your choice, you were more than aware that it was the wrong one as well, and so you reach for the buttons on your dress, undoing them with shaky hands, eyes never straying from his this time, not even when you let the dress drop at your feet, revealing your untainted skin to his hungry eyes.

It feels like the world stopped spinning when his eyes moved from yours and traveled down your body, taking note of every inch appreciatively. Fighting the urge to cover yourself was harder than you imagined it would be, and for some reason the urge to touch him and strip him of his own clothes was even stronger.

“Get on your knees.”

“What?”

The desire in his eyes only grows when he senses your hesitation. He wanted you to fall kneeling down at the altar, the same way you had ascended.

Rhysand sits up again, reaching for your hand and bringing two of your fingers into his mouth, sucking on them and swirling his tongue around. You can't help but let out a gasp, your thighs pressing together, eyes transfixed on his mouth.

He pulls them out and kisses your palm innocently, unable to hide the grin on his lips. “ I want you to suck my cock, angel,” he clarifies, as if you didn't know what he meant, as if that wasn't the reason you were holding back.

“I've never-” You swallow, not wanting to avert your gaze and be warned against it again, but finding it incredibly difficult to keep looking into those sinful violet eyes of his. “I don't know how.”

“I'll teach you.”

He made it seem like it was the easiest thing in the world, that he wasn't talking about something that would condemn you to eternal damnation at his side, but you knew what you wanted to do, knew what you were going to do, and so you drop to your knees in front of the demon, looking up at him like he was your God.

You can almost feel the light getting sucked out of you, disappearing in the midst of his darkness. It almost makes you wonder how you ended up like this, if fate had already seen this end for you, if it would have still happened if you hadn't met him. The thought makes your heart feel tight for some reason.

His hand grabs your neck unexpectedly, pulling you up so he could kiss you once again, easing your nerves somewhat, everything else disappearing when his mouth fell over yours. When he pulls away you find yourself chasing after him, and he simply chuckles and gives you one more kiss, pulling away for good with a playful lick over your lips, leaning back against the chair like a king on his throne.

“You need to take my cock out to start,” he says after a while with a hint of amusement. You didn't know why you thought he would make this any easier. Shaky hands fall over his pants, slowly unbuttoning them, trying your best to ignore the beating of your heart and most of all the hardness visible through the fabric. Rhysand seemed to enjoy every second of it, you could almost hear him purring in delight.

With a deep breath you push his underwear down, revealing him to your terrified but curious eyes, gasping softly when his cock springs free, falling against his stomach. Biting your lip, your hand moved to grab him, not knowing what else to do, you squeeze him harder, a tingling feeling rushing over your stomach when he rewards you with a moan, startled eyes finding his.

It shouldn't come as a surprise that you find him already watching you, he hadn't taken his eyes off you ever since you first arrived after all, but it almost makes you feel like you were caught doing something you were not supposed to.

“Maybe you're a natural.”

“I-”

“I know, angel,” he assures, voice deepened by something you couldn't quite put your finger on, his hand coming down to cup your head, bringing you in closer, a sigh escaping him when you offer no resistance. “I'll show you.”

Rhysand surprises you one more time when he leans up and lets his spit drop over the head of his cock, his hand spreading it down to the base and falling over yours, guiding your hand up and down his length, tightening your hold on him.

“I'll let you start slow,” he says with a teasing grin in between moans, “so you can't say I'm not considerate.”

You roll your eyes lightly, too focused on the task at hand and your every instinct screaming at you, to tamper it down. He chuckles and lets go of your hand, letting you take over, entranced by the way your fist barely fits around him and every noise that escapes him.

“As good as this feels, I know your mouth will feel a lot better.”

Right. You knew that's what he wanted, but while this is manageable, just the thought of going further makes you freeze.

“I shouldn't be doing this,” your voice is barely above a whisper.

“No, you shouldn't,” he murmurs, looking down at you with an evil twinkle in his eyes, “but that doesn't matter anymore.”

You couldn't turn back the clock, and even if you begged on your knees and repented for thousands of years you wouldn't be allowed back into heaven, not after letting things get this far. You've passed the point of no return, there was nothing stopping you from letting yourself get consumed by sin, by him.

He notices the change in your eyes, but says nothing, his hand moving back to your head instead, helping guide your movements just like he had promised he would earlier, still keeping his touch light in case you wanted to move back.

“Lick me from base to tip, fuck just like that. Keep your eyes on me.” You do your best to let your body follow his commands without thinking, focusing on the sounds he makes, finding power in knowing you're the reason behind them. “Now suck over the head, swirl your tongue around like I did with your fingers.”

It's hard to know what to expect when you never thought you'd be doing something like this in the first place, but you certainly didn't realize how enjoyable it could be for you. The choked moan he lets out when you suck on the head again without him instructing you to, gathering the liquid leaking from his tip with your tongue brings you more pleasure than anything ever has before.

“Try taking as much into your mouth as you can.” The way his voice is getting breathier motivates you to do better, wanting to make him feel even a bit of the way you did every time he's around. “Just be careful with your teeth and relax your throat, you're doing so good for me.”

He helped you with his grip on your head, pushing himself inside your mouth slowly, pausing for a moment every time you gagged. It was hard to hold his gaze, not only from embarrassment but also from the tears gathering in your eyes, but you did, God you did every little thing he told you to and more, reveling in his reactions.

“What a good little angel.”

This makes you glare up at him, teeth scraping along his skin as a warning, of course he only laughs in response, thumbing at your cheek, entranced by the way his sweet little angel sucks his cock, a little fire in her eyes, just the way he likes it.

A shudder runs through him, and you suspect you know exactly what it means. Fitting all of him inside your mouth would be impossible, it feels surreal that you even made it this far, so you start pumping your hand over the rest of his length in sync with the way your mouth moves over him, having to stop yourself from smiling when it draws out even louder moans from him, his hand tugging at your hair harder, losing himself - it wasn't even close to how far you drifted from your now former self, but it was a start, a small victory of your own even if you won it amidst your defeat.

Even if it happened because of your efforts, you're still surprised when he spills inside your mouth, hips lifting off the chair to thrust in a couple of times as he lets out sick praises and mumbles of your name. When he pulls out of you, the strain in your jaw catches up to you, and you can't help but cough when you take in too much air.

You swallowed everything on instinct, not truly knowing what else to do, but it seemed to please him as he caressed your face, making an even bigger mess of it with a triumphant look in his eyes. This is what he had always wanted, to see you broken at his feet, completely at his mercy.

“What now?”

You were almost scared to ask, afraid he would throw you away now that he's gotten what he wanted. Your voice came out scratchy, a slow ache forming in your abused throat, a reminder of what you had done.

The demon looked confused for a moment, his smile faltering slightly and a crease forming between his brows, almost as if he didn't understand your defeated expression. You had never asked but judging from his body, he had been born a demon so he would never know what it was like to be an angel, and fall in such a shameful way.

He blows air through his nose and looks up for a moment, amusement settling over his face. Grabbing you by your underarms, he lifts you up onto his lap before you even have a chance to react, hands falling over his chest.

“Now I'm going to take you to your new home, my little demon,” he whispers, leaning closer and brushing his lips against yours playfully, unable to hide the chuckle when your eyes widen further at the new pet name, “and I'm going to help you with that little problem between your legs, show you pleasure you never thought possible.”

[pikahlua]

Hi, Pika. Saw a post on my feed about how the "rest of our lives" quote by Katsuki from the last chapter of MHA means something similarly close to a marriage proposal in Japan/Japanese. Linguistically (culturally?), is there truth or basis to that claim? You never fail to provide the cultural nuances that most translations of MHA offer so I thought to ask you about this. Thank you for your response. Have a great day.

I don't know the post you're talking about, so I don't know what points they were trying to make, but if it helps, Katsuki doesn't say "for the rest of our lives" in Japanese. He says "zutto kono mama" which means "[stay] like this forever." The word choice particularly emphasizes that Katsuki's belief was that their present circumstances--their competing with each other--wouldn't change. The fact that things are changing, that Izuku is losing One For All, that they can't compete in the same way going forward, is what he's lamenting. He dreamed of always continuing on the way they had before.

As for the linguistics of marriage in Japanese, sure, there are formal or traditional ways of popping the question, but those don't include this phrase from Katsuki. That said, proposals can be just as creative in Japan as anywhere. It just depends on the couple and their history together, their way of being with each other. Those things will ultimately determine how the proposal will look and sound. There are proposals based on popular song lyrics about marriage, and there are confessions of love made to be more indirect and poetic than "I love you," but people also do sometimes say "Shall we get married?" and "I love you."

There's nothing about Katsuki's declaration that says "This is the Japanese way to propose," but that's partly because there isn't one Japanese way to propose in the first place. There are some customs many people are likely to follow, but many other couples will be just as likely to break from some of them and do things in a way that makes sense to them. And in THAT sense, Katsuki's declaration is profound. We're not meant to think "marriage marriage marriage" here. We're meant to think "This is a huge acknowledgement by Katsuki of his relationship and desires with respect to Izuku, and it is so quintessentially THEM." It's specific. It's cathartic. It's satisfying. It's special and unique to the characters they are. It's something Katsuki can say that carries such meaning but that also cannot have the same meaning when applied to any other two people.

[david-talks-sw]

So that whole interaction between Ahsoka and Huyang, where they talk about Sabine's choice to help the enemy find Thrawn (in hopes that she can then find Ezra) is clearly meant to be subtext for what happened with Anakin.

I mean change the pronoun from "she/her" to "he/him", tweak some of the names and...

... it's just blatant.

The parallels were already clear in the previous episode, as pointed out in this post here, and it still holds true:

Sabine's struggle with attachment mirrors Anakin's.

We know Filoni's whole stance on why Anakin fell to the Dark Side: he'll usually acknowledge that Anakin was ruled by his attachments, got possessive of Padmé, but then adds:

"HOWEVER is loving that way really that bad?"

"HOWEVER he never stood a chance because Qui-Gon wasn't there to teach him properly and be the father Anakin needed."

I've already gone into why both these statements don't track with Lucas' intended narrative here and here... but I wanna touch on this notion that "Anakin wasn't trained enough to make a better choice."

He was.

You know how we know? Because we saw him overcome his attachments before.

We saw him explain the theory of the non-attachment rule, before.

In fact, wee saw him pass down a lot of the Jedi lessons, in The Clone Wars, including being disciplined, following orders and not acting impulsively.

The issue is that - while Anakin knows the theory, even has a few minor successes applying it - he never builds the self-discipline needed to master it because... deep down... he doesn't want to.

This is partially because you got Palpatine telling him he doesn't need to, molding him into an arrogant, power-craving person... but the fact remains that Anakin made the choice himself.

Which Filoni acknowledges, sure... but not quite. The difference between his thesis and George Lucas' is that the latter picks a stance and defends it.

"He started out as a very loving and compassionate person. And as he progressed, it was his inability to control his temper, his inability to let go of things, and his quest for power that were his undoing." - George Lucas, E! Behind the Scenes - ROTS, 2005

Anakin fell because he was greedy, just like any one of us can be.

Cool. Filoni, on the other hand, doesn't seem to land anywhere.

He dances around the issue (as can be seen by the debate between Ahsoka and Huyang, with no clear winner) and merely questions whether it's as simple as that.

Clearly he wants to justify Anakin's actions to some degree... but y'know, the narrative considers those actions so reprehensible that Anakin gets friggin' burned alive for it.

"I felt it was important that we actually see that happen so that we could see the consequences of these bad things that he did. […] He forces his friends to turn against him. Which is heartbreaking." - George Lucas, “The Chosen One” Featurette, 2005

Because Anakin's actions are not meant to be justified.

It's easy to see why Filoni likes Anakin. One of the earliest tasks he had when writing The Clone Wars was humanizing a character whose sole functional purpose was to carry out a narrative about how:

"Without self-discipline, greed [can] force a character off the path to freedom." - Micael Hearn, The Cinema of George Lucas, 2005

And Anakin is a very sympathetic character.

His flaws are flaws that we all carry.

Q: Is it fair to assess Anakin is kind of cursed by his own goodness/good qualities? "I wouldn't say that’s true. He’s cursed by the same flaws, and issues that he has to overcome, that all humans are cursed with. There's a lot going on there. [...] The whole point is—and the reason I started the story where I did—is that Anakin is a normal, good kid. And how does somebody who is normal and good turn bad? What are the qualities, what is it that we all have within us that will turn us bad?" - George Lucas, Star Wars Insider #52, 2000

But narratively, Anakin is selfish.

He doesn't want to save Padmé's life, he wants to save himself from the pain of losing Padmé.

And while you're supposed to sympathize with him, you're not meant to agree with him. He's Darth Vader, the space nazi. He messes up and consequentially "leaves the Force in darkness" for 20 years, instead of ushering it towards the light in the chancellor's office, when he has the chance.

So to shift the blame and say that...

HOWEVER, Anakin didn't have the proper support system or training to make a better choice.

... when the whole point of the narrative is about taking personal responsibility and being selfless instead of selfish... well, it is missing that point.

He did know better. He just didn't want to choose better, so he convinced himself he wasn't able to.

[some-pers0n]

Turtle's arc is so subtle yet so good and I love it a lot, which sucks since I've seen a number of people write him off as just "socially awkward kid who is boring", which?? No??? Gimme a second just to ramble, okay?

Turtle has terrible self-esteem issues and an inferiority complex. He puts himself down, calling himself boring, stupid, and generally useless constantly in his internal dialogue. He's kind and sweet and really well meaning, but he's socially awkward and shy and can't exactly strike up a conversation.

He's like this in due part of being one of Queen Coral's many...many sons. Christ alive this woman had thirty-two sons-- but that's besides the point. He's just another dragon. He's not old enough to be a leader, but not young enough to exactly be any special. He's a middle child. He's a nobody. Just another SeaWing prince who's destined to either run away or to become a military general.

The one time Turtle was ever truly acknowledged was when the night happened with his father, Gill. Gill needed Turtle to fetch one of the royal guards so that they could protect Queen Coral's eggs. But, Turtle couldn't find them. He failed. Gill lashes out, snapping back at Turtle for his inability to do such a simple task and killing the eggs in the process. Turtle internalized this moment. He was useless. He's a nobody, and when he's forced to be somebody, he'll just fail and let everyone down.

Thus, he doesn't see himself as anything special. A fuck up if anything; which makes it all the more ironic that he's an animus dragon. He's literally got the most powerful, special ability in the entire continent, and more than anything he's self-conscious and terrified of it as he would then be pushed into the limelight over it. Because of it, Turtle has made some...rather selfish choices every now and then. The incident with Anemone was created solely because he was petrified of being put on a pedestal. He doesn't want to be some grand dragon. So, he diverted attention away from him and enchanted Anemone to have magic.

Turtle doesn't want to make choices or do anything out of fear of failure and letting others down. Worse is if he's discovered to be an animus, where he's then elevated to such high expectations that he is convinced he will never be able to accomplish. He's held back by his own perceived inadequacy. He doesn't think highly of himself. He doesn't want the spotlight as he's both afraid of being seen and afraid of what those people will say when he lets them down.

He blended into the background in Moon Rising. Moon herself was confused by not being able to read his thoughts, which turned out to be because of the Magic Plot Rock we all know and love as skyfire. However, as the rest of the Jade Winglet ran off when Moon revealed to have been a mind reader, Turtle stuck around. He related to that. He felt pity and understood Moon the most. They are most like one another anyways, with the both of them being ashamed of their own powers and fearing being rejected by their loved ones the most.

He's a deeply kind and considerate soul who wants nothing more than to help people. He cares for Moon and wants to comfort her when she's at her lowest. He is so sweet, but he does it in a quiet, deeply personal way. He doesn't like big gestures or calling attention upon himself. He just likes being close to another. I feel he connected most with Moon because he found his own insecurities and fears in her and related to that. He found another person like him.

The Jade Winglet helps Turtle a lot with his own issues. Slowly throughout the series, he grows a little more confident of himself. His kindness is shown yet again with him becoming friends with Peril. Again, relating and sharing experiences of having powers and abilities that others want to take advantage of and unwillingly push them into roles they wouldn't want. He laughs, jokes, and playfully banters with her. He's getting better and better.

And then...Darkstalker.

Darkstalker throws a wrench into everything. Turtle reverts instantly back to his scared, cowardly ways. He enchants a stick to hide himself from Darkstalker, instantly sensing that Darkstalker hated him. He feels powerless to stop Darkstalker. What could he do?? Well, he could try to use his magic, but that would mean he steps out into the spotlight! He's seen! But this is serious. Darkstalker is massive, has animus magic, can read minds, and can see into the future. Turtle is just a kid. He's a nobody. He can't do anything.

He's scared. He feels useless and afraid. He's no hero. He doesn't want to be a hero. He's nothing like the heroes from legend. He's nobody.

Over the course of his book, we see Turtle quietly observe and stand by as Darkstalker takes over Jade Mountain Academy. He's plotting and planning, feigning his kindness and basking in the praise and worship others are giving him. Darkstalker is the antithesis to Turtle. He freely uses his magic without care and, more than anything, wants to be seen and witnessed by others. He loved the attention that his magic brings him. If somebody doesn't like him, then he either kills them off or brainwashes them into liking him. He's the polar opposite of Turtle in every way.

And you know who else is like that? Anemone.

Anemone is corrupted and warped even more by Darkstalker. Before hand, she was a kid who had just been released from the suffocating life as Queen Coral's only daughter. Darkstalker saw her as a pawn he could exploit. He encouraged her to be more risky and daring with her magic. He whispered into her ear and tells her that she's able to do anything. He's grooming a child he's grooming a child--

Regardless, Turtle feels guilty for everything Anemone has been put through. He doesn't fully understand the extent to which she had suffered as being physically tied to her mother at all times and being trained as a living weapon, but he feels so much guilt over it. Because of his inability to take accountability and risk being seen, he made a selfish, half-formed enchantment that was supposed to be a quick fix. He did not fully think of the consequences, and yet here they are before him.

As the book goes on, we see Turtle slowly but steadily try to form a resistance movement against Darkstalker. He had been watching and eventually found himself alone with Qibli and Winter. Winter, who was still heavily under the "Darkstalker is good :))))" spell, refused to listen as Turtle told them about it. Qibli, who wasn't affected, understood. For one of the first times ever, Turtle used his magic for another. Well, he also enchanted Kinkajou's skyfire so that she would be almost invisible to Darkstalker, but that would require me spending two seconds thinking about where that scene leads to (the love spell) and I'd rather not.

Anywho, Turtle is still insecure and afraid, but he's slowly becoming more sure of himself. He knows Darkstalker is evil and he wants to take him down. He's deeply afraid of him though, as he knows Darkstalker will kill him. He still feels useless and scared.

Until finally he has to act.

Anemone, coaxed by Darkstalker into doing this, goes off to kill Queen Coral and her entire family. Anemone is convinced this is what she deserves after being a terrible mother. Suddenly, Turtle realizes that his little mistake of giving Anemone god powers now has consequences and his family is going to die.

The guilt he feels is immense, but he needs to stand up. He can't sit idly anymore and let the world pass him by. He needs to stop her. He's the only one who can match her power. He has to fight her. He has to warn everyone. He has to do something heroic and terrifying.

He confronts Anemone on the beach. For the first time, he stands up for himself. He doesn't back down when she barks at him and demands he leaves. She tries to kill him, only for him to finally reveal himself. He's admitting to his mistakes. His guilt. He knows that she's not going to have a good reaction. Yeah so Anemone then tries to kill him via animus magic. The pair fight, with Turtle wining in the end.

Yada yada the book ends with Turtle having his magic taken away, but over the course of the book (as well as bleeding into DOD), Turtle has grown significantly in terms of his fears and anxieties. He's able to make a stand for himself and actively try to make things better. He's scared and still socially awkward, but he's, well, a hero in some semblance. Something he thought was the most terrifying thing possible for him he does.

Turtle is a naturally kind and considerate soul. He wants to help others, and when he does hurt them it eats away at his heart. He's afraid of conflict and prefers to be a doormat if it means he can slip through the cracks and come out unscathed.

Through the books however, he grows into a more upstanding and confident character. He's less prone to self-deprecation and letting others take advantage of him. He doesn't let things pass by and get himself into terrible situations through in-action. Through the support of his friends (and going through traumatizing scenario after traumatizing scenario) he is marginally better. Not fixed, but good enough to be happy and still the same, socially awkward but incredibly kind Turtle.

He's a character who I think a lot of people can see themselves in, and his arc in particular is one I feel many should aspire to. To stand up for themselves. To mend and fix the mistakes they've made and try to do better. Problems can't be fixed by some other hero. You have to take initiative. Stand up. Be the hero you need.

[lihhelsing]

Stay for as long as you have time

PART I | Find me on Ao3

Part II

CW: Self-hatred and mentions of homophobia

Steve Harrington was fucked. 

Like utterly and completely fucked. 

He had one moment of weakness and of course, that would come back to bite him in the ass in the form of a gorgeous man standing at Nancy’s door on Christmas. His whole life, Steve knew he was different. Tried his hardest to fit in when it always seemed so easy for other people to just be. Could never lower his guard, could never let the intrusive thoughts arise.

He spent his entire life pretending. All he needed to do was keep going.

It took him years and a friendship with a lesbian trainwreck for him to realize what was always painfully clear to him. Steve Harrington was not straight. 

And, as he did with everything in his life, Steve acknowledged it and moved on from it. Just kept pretending.

It’s not like he had any other choice. 

But then he just had to go to that bar.

He had gotten into a big fight with Nancy and he didn’t want to go home, so he drove to the bar instead. Chose one he knew he wouldn’t get recognized.

And then he saw him. So gorgeous, with long hair, bangs falling in his eyes, and a smile that would haunt Steve forever. It made Steve’s skin itch with pure need. 

He didn’t really think before sending him the drink.

Didn’t really think when the man approached his booth and asked if he could join him. 

Didn’t think at all when the way he said ‘sweetheart’ sent his heart into overdrive. 

Steve didn’t think. And now he was fucked.

Because the stranger from the bar, the guy Steve had shamelessly fallen for, was here. Standing in Nancy’s doorway, walking into Steve’s fiancé’s living room. 

He was here and his name was Eddie Munson and he would be Steve’s ruin.

Steve tried to keep his cool, shook Eddie’s hands like he didn’t know what those fingers felt like wrapped around his hips. Looked away when Eddie’s tongue darted out to wet his lips as if he didn’t know what his mouth tasted like. 

Steve did what he was best at: Pretend.

But his resolve was shattered the minute those round brown eyes met his at the door because Steve kept messing it up. Kept stealing glances at him like no one would notice. 

But Eddie did notice it. In fact, he seemed to always know when Steve was looking at him.

“Steve, would you come help me in the kitchen with dessert?” Nancy said, and it was clearly not a question. Steve nodded and followed her, Eddie’s eyes on him the whole time. 

Nancy opened the oven and picked up the pie, placed her two hands on the counter, and looked him dead in the eye.

“Alright, spill,” she said. No time for preambles.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he shrugged. Knew it wouldn't work with her. She would see right past his bullshit.

“Don’t play dumb, Steve. What’s up with you?”

Steve sighed. There was no way he could keep anything from Nancy, so he just told her everything. 

“And the night you met him was…?”

“The night we fought. I’m sorry I walked out. I was so angry. But at me, not at you.”

Nancy nodded. She rounded the counter and stood next to Steve, putting her hand softly on his face. 

“You need to stop hating yourself, babe. I'm pretty sure I told you that at least a million times,” her voice was stern, but not mean. Steve could feel the love behind every word.

“I know, Nance,” he said, not daring to meet her eyes. Knew what he would see in them and he wasn't really ready for that.

“There’s nothing wrong with who you are. Fuck your dad," Nancy said, tugging at his hand until he turned his head, and only when their eyes locked did she keep going. "You can stop pretending now.”

The words sunk in and Steve sighed. Nancy was right, as usual. Steve learned from a young age how to hate himself and he’d never stopped. Kept thinking he needed to please his father.

Even when his father hated who Steve was. Even when his father found Steve’s magazines, hidden in his room. Even when his father screamed at him that he would marry a good girl otherwise he could say goodbye to his money and his name. Steve hated himself then, even more.

So when Steve showed up at Nancy’s door, crying in the middle of the night, she took him in. She soothed him. Calmed him. And when Steve begged her to marry him, she didn’t even blink. She said, “If that’s what will make you happy, Steve, I’ll marry you.”

Nancy, who was willing to put her own happiness aside just so Steve would hate himself a little less. Nancy, who had been in love with Robin ever since Steve had introduced them both.

Nancy, who had fought Steve, begged him to see that cutting ties with his family wouldn’t be the worst thing. He wouldn’t ever be alone. 

“You should go talk to him,” Nancy said and Steve grimaced at her.

“He probably hates me,”

“The way he looks at you? I would hardly call it hate, Steve. Just go.”

Steve brought the pie to the table and softly tapped on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Can we talk?”

For a minute, Steve thought Eddie would say no. Would tell him to go fuck himself. But then, Eddie nodded and got up. 

[echo-and-dust]

now that my brain has somewhat unscrambled itself i have gotten most of my thoughts in order about season 3.

and the first thing i will say is: i loved it.

while it was gutwrenching and polarizing in some ways and i feel that i am entitled to financial compensation for what its done to my mental health, i loved this season for pretty much almost everything it did.

i cannot fault people for having issues with much of the characterization and plot choices made—that’s been the trend during the entire run of the show after all, and imo it’s a testament to the phenomenal way it generates nuance—but i wanted to share my feelings on the recurring opinions i’ve seen about some of these things.

first, i do not blame simon at all for the things he said in the final scene. he’s a child who has been receiving endless verbal and physical harassment on top of all the trauma he is still trying to heal from. he just watched his boyfriend lash out in anger and hurt—while not at him, but it must’ve been a close resemblance of how he might’ve seen micke act. at least, that's what i thought, though i've seen others say otherwise.

and yes, wille is not micke, but just because wille’s source of outbursts is different from micke’s doesn’t mean simon is wrong in drawing similarities. at least he's finally getting a true glimpse into what wille has had to deal with. i've honestly grown to like that they didn't have simon immediately comfort him though; wille's mental illness is not his fault, but it is his responsibility, and instead of pushing a message of unhealthy co-dependence, the show has simon be honest: "but i see that everything hurts you and that hurts me too." and to me, that's so important.

plus, it doesn't make their love any less genuine. wille is a victim of the circumstances; he is not evil, and he is not undeserving of simon. he just has a lot of growing and healing to do, a lot of unlearning and exposure therapy because he's still blinded by privilege even when he tries not to be.

speaking of, i have so many thoughts about wille that i feel like i need to save for its own separate post, but to sum them up: i'll still defend him with my life, and he needs to get the fuck away from that institution.

also, the fact that the responsibility of controlling simon's media decisions was placed solely on wille confused me at first like—why wouldn't they get a professional to give him proper media training?

then i realized, this could be the royal court's way of sabotaging their relationship. they knew that making wille the one to tell simon what he can and cannot say or post would create distance and animosity between them. despite the ramifications of simon's behavior on social media, it seems they still thought it best to have his boyfriend be the one to try to mold him into the system. because they knew that's how they could get rid of him. in conclusion, fuck the royal court (we been knew but still).

one of the standouts this season was their transparency regarding the show's politics. it not only works well with the show's arc (wilmon is public, everything's out in the open now and there's nothing to hide), but also it felt necessary at a time where censorship has been rapidly gaining momentum. it felt so refreshing for these characters to talk so openly about racial discrimination and queerphobia and class disparities, forcing both character and viewer to acknowledge that they exist and you should feel uncomfortable about it.

i don't think i can add much more to what was already said about it—most of the fandom is more eloquent and observant than i am anyway—i just wanted to reinforce how important this season is to myself and the story even with how controversial it is to fans right now. a lot of people may disagree with me and that's fine.

[lover-of-mine]

Far from me to make Shannon about Buck, but I keep saying the way that Eddie reacts to Buck during the lawsuit is about the effort and that Eddie would've reacted differently to Shannon if Shannon had made the choice to come back herself when people try to make that comparison, and I feel like the episode proved me right on that front. Shannon left Eddie and Chris and Eddie reached out and that was why she came back, and she never told Eddie why she left Eddie, Eddie had no closure on the way she left him in the middle of the night. And that's the thing that gets him, because he seemed to accept in some level he could trust she wouldn't voluntarily leave Christopher again, but he never managed to trust she wouldn't leave him, and she did leave him before she died, he thought that her not coming back on her own would always mean maybe she would leave again and Shannon asked for a divorce and that confirmed that fear. All Eddie wanted from her was the explanation "if you loved me, why did you leave me? What wasn't enough? Me or your love for me?" if she didn't want to stay, and he will never get that because they made statements about each other using Christopher, as if the effort towards Chris would be enough to keep their relationship together. Considering the whole way Eddie proposed because she was pregnant and he decides to try again for real because he thinks she's pregnant again, and the way she demands for a stance regarding being brought back into Chris' life to define their relationship, and "is that who I am to you? Christopher's mother" they never really talked to each other about each other with Chris removed from the equation, and that was what they needed, to have an honest conversation about each other without believing Chris could magically keep them together. Eddie needs his own letter and he'll never get it because neither one of them ever sit down to talk about what all the running did to the other. Not beyond Shannon yelling at Eddie that what she needed was him and he wasn't there. And considering the way Shannon is all Eddie knows with how young they were when they met, his reactions when it comes to relationships come from what he was taught to expect there. It's why he folds the way he did when Buck apologizes and explains how he was feeling and why he did what he did. Because Buck apologizing the way he does validates a part of Eddie abandonment issues that's not validated often enough. Buck realized what happened hurt Eddie and he made a direct effort to make it up to Eddie without going around the issues. And that's interesting because Eddie himself hides behind Christopher during the whole situation, he calls Buck out for leaving him by putting Chris in the middle so he won't have to say that he misses Buck.

And I think the whole thing adds to the way Eddie changing his will feels inherently romantic, because simply asking a friend to be your kid's guardian isn't romantic, but doing it and hiding it when you have a history of making statements about your romantic life using your kid is. Shannon demanded a statement about what she and Eddie were through Christopher and Eddie makes a statement about what Buck is to him through Christopher. And it's an interesting contrast in the situation when you consider the similarities between the fight Shannon and Eddie have at the station in 210 and the will reveal (same color palette, same general feeling of defining relationships through Chris) because Shannon was only getting Eddie and Buck only got Christopher, and neither relationship could go anywhere until they addressed the balance that needs to exist between the two. Obviously, any relationship Eddie enters needs to consider Christopher, but Chris can't be the defining factor and that's the thing that Eddie himself keeps failing to realize. Yes, Christopher's needs are important, but Eddie needs to also consider his own needs if he wants to make a relationship work, but he never acknowledged that until he was yelling at Kim that Chris got a letter but Eddie never did. Because that's what Eddie needs to move on, to not look for a mother for Chris, but for a partner for him who also happens to love Christopher. But he can't see that because what he wants is the fantasy he had as a teenager of growing old with Shannon and he can't let that go even though he's never going to get that.

And I feel like this rambling also adds to my general rambling about how Buck is the one who needs to start his endgame relationship, so he's the one who needs to make the choice to fight for Eddie, because in the same way that Buck keeps being pursued by people and he keeps letting himself be chased because he doesn't want to make a choice in a fucked up mirror of that first relationship with Abby, the relationship that shaped Eddie is a relationship where he wasn't chosen to be in. From marrying Shannon before they were ready because she was pregnant to being the one to ask her to come back, he never knew if she was with him because she wanted to be with him or out of obligation to Chris and the same sense of duty that made them get married in the first place, in the same way that Abby took the agency away from Buck by crashing into his life the way she did and forcing him into this waiting position that he needs to leave. Buck needs to make a choice because he needs to stop waiting for love to find him and Eddie needs to be chosen because he never knew what that feels like to have love choose him.

[milquetoast27]

THE SHERLOCK HOLMES DOUBLE-BEDDED ROOM CONSPIRACY

I've seen a little talk of this online, and I must share my most recent Sherlockian scholarship.

Twice in the canon, Holmes and Watson are described sleeping in a 'double-bedded room'. There are two definitions for this term, for a room:

having two beds

furnished with a double bed.

Ignoring all other clues, I firmly interpret this to have the latter meaning in both cases, in 'The Man With the Twisted Lip' and 'The Valley of Fear'.

Holmes tells Watson in TWIS, "my room at The Cedars is a double-bedded one," and later says that, "Mrs. St. Clair has most kindly put two rooms at my disposal." He says both to Watson in assurance that there will be space for him at The Cedars, seemingly leaving the choice up to him.

Watson then later again confirms, "a large and comfortable double-bedded room had been placed at our disposal." This indicates that Watson has made the choice to sleep in the same room as Holmes (which is honestly enough for me, but we must go on!)

In the same paragraph, Watson states "Holmes wandered about the room collecting pillows from his bed." I was concerned that my theory may have been debunked here. HOWEVER!

"His bed" does not necessarily mean there is more than one, as it was very much likely 'his bed' before Watson began lodging there. Watson (bless his soul) may also be more likely to refer to it as Holmes's bed as he is not the guest actually occupying the room and using it as a base. This early in canon, Watson is still a little shy about accompanying Holmes and therefore lean more towards this perspective.

Another perspective could be that Watson considers the bed occupying the OTHER room to be 'his', and is fully acknowledging the fact that he is taking up what is Holmes's space, although I consider this less likely back in 1889.

In this time, Holmes also never occupies a bed. He creates a (cosy) fort for himself and smokes through the night instead. Why? Because he was too shy to sleep with Watson.

Why didn't he just take the other room? Think about it. Watson has welcomed himself to sleep in Holmes's double-bedded room. Wouldn't it be awkward if he now moved to sleep in the other one? Additionally, the whole reason he has brought Watson with him was to have him in his presence - not to mention a great opportunity to watch him sleep (which I am almost certain he has done).

Thankfully, my job for proving this in VALL is much simpler. In fact, Watson telling us that "the tall, lean figure inclined towards me," while he was in bed, suggests that, perhaps, Holmes was beginning to get into it?

In conclusion, I cannot prove definitively that they were indeed occupying double-beds, but any reader is 100% justified in believing so. The same goes for the reverse, and so any interpretation is completely valid >:)

[ruwriteshours]

WORTH A LIE. (MARK LEE)

➼ pairing: mark lee + fem! reader

➼ genre: angst (exes to lovers trope), fluff at the end

➼ summary: Always wallowing yourself in self-pity, you start to doubt yourself and you think it's time to end your relationship with Mark with a lie. He'll have no choice but to move on from you. It will work...

"I cheated on you."

Biting your lip in anticipation as you waited for a response. Looking over, you could see Mark tensed at your words but he quickly covered up by reaching over the table to grab the remote control, chuckling lightly.

"Sure you did."

You shook your head.

"I'm seriously." You stated firmly, this time.

Wanting nothing more than to burn a hole through the ground, your anxiety quickly rising as he finally turned to face you. His eyes were no longer warm and loving, like you were used to seeing. No, it felt spine-chilling from the way his gaze hardened, those cold eyes searching through yours as if he was trying to detect a lie. You couldn't let him see right through you though, so you attempted to put on a assertive stance.

A moment passed by with deafening silence, you held in my breath as you awaited for his reaction yet again. This time though, he laughed humorless, you could tell that he was trying to hide his pain away. Your heart clenched at the sight, wanting to desperately hold him one last time.

Stretching out your hands to hold onto his, he pushed it aside harshly, "Don't."

"I'm sorr—"

"Save it." He spat.

He stood up, pacing back and forth as if he was contemplating on what to do next.

"When?" He looked back at you with those cold eyes.

Shuddering slightly, you meekly mumbled. "Two weeks ago."

"You mean, when you were on tour in LA? Are you fucking serious?" He bellowed, his footsteps drawing further away, not wanting to stay in the living room with your presence any longer. You couldn't blame him.

That's right. During the tour, you had barely any time with Mark— not that you had much before either. He is an idol and so were you, but managing through this relationship for a year was made possible for the both of you. Afterall, you had been friends way longer than you had been together. Both of you had so much trust for each other. Or so he thought.

Following his steps, you began making your way to the kitchen, where his back was facing you. "Look, it just happened and I thought—"

"You thought it was a great time to cheat, right?" He cut me off. "To make me work my ass off in the studio while you go fuck with some stranger."

"Must be fun, right?" He taunted.

"It really wasn't like that." Weakly defending yourself as you refuse to make eye contact.

He scoffed.

"Then what is it, huh?" He pushed on. "That I would just magically forgive you? Like what you did isn't suppose to fucking hurt me?"

His voice cracked slightly, at the end.

"I'm really sorry." You pleaded.

A month later,

Holding back your tears as you try to remain unbothered at the sight of Mark making out with some girl at the party.

After the break-up, Mark had completely shut you out of his life. Blocking your number and refusing to acknowledge your presence. Although it hurt, you knew it was for the better anyways. He deserved better.

"Why won't you just tell him the truth?" Yoora suggested, appearing at your side.

Yoora had been there and she had seen it all. The amount of tears that were shed as you force yourself to put on a smile in front of everyone else. She hated that you had to end the relationship at your own expense. Though, you trust that she wouldn't tell a soul, that didn't stop her from verbalising her disagreement.

"That will be the last thing I would do." You stubbornly retorted.

Yoora sighed.

"He hates you, now. Are you sure you're willing to live with that?" She questioned.

"Of course not, but I rather him hate me than let him have the burden of knowing." Walking off from the couch, not wanting to converse anymore.

Squeezing your way through the crowded place, you had accidentally bumped into the devil himself. There he stood, as stunning as ever. He grew out his hair, his black locks swayed around his neck and his breath reeked of alcohol. Stumbling back slightly at the impact, you could only pressume to walk away, knowing he wanted nothing to do with you.

But before you could make that step, he tugged you forward by your wrist. His mouth was near yours and you could've sworn that your heart skipped a beat. The anticipation was killing you as you could feel his lips nearing closer,

"We could've been together." He voiced out, snapping you out of your trance.

"But you— you just had to mess up!" He slurred.

"Mark—"

"No— I hate how you think you got the upper hand," He paused, "but guess what, I am living the life without you."

Your heart ache at his words.

"Please stop." Your voice quavered.

"Huh, you're actually crying." He mocked, "You're so pathetic, I shouldn't have wasted those years being with you. It's insufferable."

You took a step back.

"I fucking hated you and I'm glad we broke off." He finished, walking off.

You could only stand there in shock. You never thought he would utter those words out so menacingly. You should be glad that he bought your lie, but why does the sound of your shattering heart says otherwise?

"Alright, let's go through this one last time!" The instructor yelled out.

It was the final week of practice for the yearly stage performance for all SM idols to perform together. You would usually be thrilled about it, considering it was only the few times you would get to see Mark on stage.

Oh, how times have changed.

Ever since that party, you would only receive far worse treatment from him. From 'accidentally' bumping into your shoulder whenever you walked past, to intentionally spilling water all over your clothes and not uttering a single apology and purposely ignoring your greetings. It hurt to know he wasn't the same as how he was before.

The first week of training, the both of you were paired up as partners as part of the choreography. The best of your luck when his name was mentioned, alongside with yours. You could feel the burning tension but you attempt to remain professional, not wanting any personal issues to clash with your work. Though, you couldn't say the same for Mark.

"Mark, you have to look at her." The choreographer insisted.

He refused to make eye contact whenever an intimate part of the choreography came up, claiming he wanted to avoid any dating scandal. Yet openly flirting with other female idols in the room, being way too up close and personal with them. You still brushed off, reminding yourself that you needed to be patient. Little did you know, that his gaze was focused on yours—looking for a reaction.

"You look really beautiful." He brushed the girl's hair.

He would purposely mess up your schedule, telling you to arrive at a certain time and making you show up at least an hour late, getting an earful from the instructor.

"Oops." He mocked, smirking at the way your glaring eyes intensifies.

And it was only the beginning.

"Ugh, why would you put up with this?" Yoora groaned, leaning her head against the headboard.

"Yeah, and he is being way too blatant about it." Karina agreed, munching on her snacks.

You sigh.

"Look, I know we said we would keep this a 'secret'." Giselle said using air quotes. "But this has gotten way too far, he's being an ass at this point."

"Guys, it's not that easy." You defended.

"What's not easy? Telling him that you were hospitalised when we were on tour? Or the fact that you have to hide it?" Yoora pushed.

"Both!" You whined.

How could you? Mark was a very busy man and you couldn't let him be bothered too much about your health issues. After the tour in LA, you had been forced to take pills. Day in and day out, the doctors would come in to check up on you. Your condition was getting worse and you could only throw up every single food you ate. You couldn't stand the heat because your nose would easily bleed. Everything became too much, that you didn't want to pass the burden onto someone else. Mark has had enough on his hands and you didn't want to add on to it.

Your members think you were stupid for that reasoning but you had always been an overthinker. Even at the early stages of your relationship with Mark, you had been nothing but a trainwreck. Your emotions always got to you and it was bound to happen that it will be the downfall of your relationship.

They all shared knowing looks as you left the room afterwards.

The day has finally arrive. Everything went smoothly, fans were cheering on to the performance and you couldn't be more happy to be on stage after awhile.

"Remember what the doctor said." Your manager reminded.

You nodded, "I've taken the medicine, don't worry." You assured.

That seem to be a good enough answer and your manager walked off, letting you prepare for your next performance.

"Don't force yourself." Yoora stated, standing by your side. You could only mumble a quick 'okay' before going back to your position.

Suprisingly, everything went by according to plan. You were able to perform under the immense amount of sickness you were facing. You could feel your energy draining by the second but you still pushed yourself, nonetheless. The only thing you could focus on was the next part;

Which was when it came to your part with Mark, you couldn't help but feel your nerves skyrocketing. You miraculously did the choreograph perfectly, and Mark was able to maintain eye contact with such genuinity that it made you doubt that he was just doing it for show. Right as it was about to end, you felt Mark pull away quickly. The sudden action made you face the reality— it was no longer the same.

The cheers from the fans made you able to quickly contort your face to a look of happiness, not wanting to cause suspicion.

"That was good, girls!" Everyone cheered, just then you heard your phone ding.

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your sockets when you read it.

Mark: Meet me at the supply closet. Now.

Your heart skipped a beat at that. You quickly excused yourself as you made a beeline towards the closet, you couldn't help but feel curious at what he has to say. Surely it can't be...

Just as you entered the dark, empty room, you hear the door slammed shut. "Mark!" You turned around to open the door, only to find it jammed.

Banging the door repeatedly, you called out. "Mark, this isn't funny! Let me out, please!"

You continued banging the door for a few minutes and your calls of help was deemed useless. Just as you were about to call someone on your phone, it was a sudden horror when you discovered that your battery ran out.

Just great!

You tried to remain calm but it was imposible as you couldn't breathe from the small, cramped space. You were slowly loosing conciousness and before you knew it, you blacked out...

Why isn't she answering my text?

Mark thought disappointingly as he stared at the text he sent out a few days ago.

Mark: You did great out there!

Was it too much? Was he being too much of a creep to you. He didn't know why he was so nervous sending out that text. Afterall, it was just you.

Maybe... just maybe that's why he felt so agitated. He knew he shouldn't worry about you but he can't help it. He knew he had been an ass but surely anyone would to their cheating ex. So why did he cared when you hasn't been giving him the attention he wants?

"Mark! Mark, where the hell are you!" A shrill voice echoed through the room, his train of thoughts were interrupted.

Before the male could recollect himself, he didn't even notice Yoora until he was pulled by the ear. The group watched in shock as they watched one of their members being attacked by the enraged woman.

"Ow! What the hell!" Mark yelped in pain.

Yoora would have none of it. "You're such an asshole!"

"Yoora, calm down." Karina intervened.

"Can someone tell me what is happening?" Taeyong yelled out, trying to diffuse the situation.

"I would want to know that too!" Mark agreed.

Yoora sneered, "You knew what you did, dick!"

"Yoora, let's not start anything." Karina stated calmly, "Why did you do that, Mark?"

"What! What did I do?" Mark asked, genuinely confused of what he is being accused of.

Yoora scoffed.

"You texted Y/N that night after the performance, asking her to meet you so that you could pull a prank of trapping her in a supply closet for hours!" Yoora exclaimed.

The group gasped, curious eyes watching as the scene unfolds. Watching the way Mark's face acted the same as them, equally as shock at the horrific news.

"Well, guess what? You're stupid little prank landed her in the hospital for days!" Yoora finished off.

"What! Which hospital is she at?!" Mark was in frantic, not even acknowledging the fact that the girls were accusing him of doing that act to you. Never in a million years, would he be that cruel.

"Funny to think that we would tell you. She doesn't want to see you." Yoora crossed her arms.

Mark looked at her angrily, "Look, I didn't do anything to her! I wasn't on my phone after the performance. I fell asleep the whole day. Ask Haechan!" He desperately tries to defend himself.

Haechan nodded, "It's true, he wasn't even near his phone."

"Then who was it texting her?" Yoora ask, her anger slightly dissipitating.

Mark could feel the lightbulb flicker in his head, "Aera!"

Everyone stared at him, "I let Aera use my phone because she said she needed to call someone. I didn't even check if she gave me back until the next day." He explains.

Aera had always envy your relationship so when it came about the dreaded news of your break-up, she was visibly more than happy and was up in her feet when Mark began to show slight interest for her. Of course, it's now all ruined because of you. The girl thought bitterly before making the most inhumane act.

"That bitc-"

"Now that I've proven my innocence, let me see her!" Mark exclaimed.

"Um, you see. I wasn't lying when I said she doesn't want to see you." Yoora scratched the back of her head awkwardly.

Karina let out a groan, finally having had enough. "Ugh, this push and pull thing is getting annoying. I'll tell you the whole truth."

"Karina..."

"Don't. He has the right to know." Karina continued.

Mark could never be more confused, "Know about what?"

"You seem to be in a very bad condition but surely enough, it will be a quick recovery. You just need to have enough rest." The doctor stated, "You have been taking your regular meds, right?"

You nodded,

"Then you should be fine. In a few minutes, you are allowed to be discharged." You sigh at that, relieved that it was finally over.

"Y/N?" That voice.

"Mark? What are you doing here?" You asked, puzzled by his presence.

"Just for the record, Aera was the one who put you in here. Just wanted to let you know that I would never do that to you." He stated.

"Cool." You awkwardly replied,

"Is that all?" You avoided eye contact, not wanting him to see you in such a state.

Mark let out an unbelievable laugh, "You know, this whole time, you paint yourself to be the bad guy when you were out here suffering the whole time?"

"Mark..." You trailed off, knowing what he was going to say.

"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice was suprisingly calm. You didn't know if you should be worried or glad.

"Because— You were already in enough stress as it-"

"Don't." He interrupted, "Don't use that shitty excuse on me." He snarled.

"Well, it's the truth. I don't know what you want from me." You retort.

"What I want is for you to stop hiding these types of things from me." He confessed.

You scoffed, "Why should I? We're not even together."

Almost after you utter those words, Mark grabbed your chin and made you face him. "Don't say that. You're mine and you've always will be."

His tone was stern.

"You made me treat you like shit and I'm sorry I hurt you but I hope you know that my feelings for you never changed." He spoke earnestly.

You teared up. "Stop it, Mark."

"No, I won't stop. As long as you're here, it's enough to for me to fight for this relationship. I should've done it sooner so i'm doing it now." His hands continued to leave a tight yet gentle grip, making sure he wasn't being too rough on you.

"You can say whatever shit you want, but this time, I won't leave you. You're stuck with me forever, Y/N. I'm going to take care of you until we're old and grey." He declared, kissing your forehead before giving you a warm hug.

This time though, you couldn't bring yourself to argue as you accepted his embrace.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

©ruwriteshours

[heartofwolfe]

Whole reason i made a new blog Can i get a word about eurylochus. Im sure other people have said it but if so then ill gladly add on the noise. I dont think hes as hypocritical and bad as some people have made him out to be? And i want to go over his crimes one by one, to bring them to a less exaggerated ground.

"He was going to abandon those men in Circe's island, therefore he had no right rebelling against Odysseus after Scylla."

I need us all to review both situations for a second. With Circe, Eurylochus witnessed what she's capable of, he KNEW Odysseus wouldn't be able to take her. Between losing his captain (and KING) and "cut their losses", it was probably logical for him to leave those men behind in place of losing any more lives or Odysseus himself. Had he known Hermes would show up to help, I'm sure he wouldn't have been so adamant on leaving. He's the voice of the crew, after all.

But Scylla? Odysseus withheld the information of what they were going to encounter in that lair. Odysseus deliberately made him light up torches (one of which would've been for HIM) that would sentence the 6 men that'd carry them. Of course, upon realizing this was his plan, he'd be mad. And we have to realize the rest of the crew are just as sentient as Eurylochus: Seeing their king give up 6 lives like they're nothing for the sake of getting home to his wife... how do they know they won't be next? The 3 men at Circe could've left like Eurylochus did, it was a slip, but Scylla was a choice. (A choice I think was the best outcome! Im not coming for Odysseus here, and I acknowledge and agree it was probably the safest way to get through Scylla. But it doesn't negate the feelings of the crew).

"He opened the wind bag and it got over 500 men killed! With that body count, he was still hypocrital to critisize Odysseus for sacrificing 6 men to Scylla"

I mean, yeah, if we leave it at that. Why don't we ask Poseidon what would've happened to Ithaca if they arrived at the shore instead of being sent to him directly?

Yes, opening the bag is breaking Odysseus' trust. He did wrong at this. But if we are gonna get nitpicky, Odysseus shouldn't have revealed his name to the Cyclops at all— Or just kill him, like Poseidon and Athena told him he should've done. I think they're both at fault for this, and even then, killing his fleet over the entirety of Ithaca is probably the best outcome somehow.

But like, overall, I just don't think we can use the 500 men excuse to throw bricks at this man. No one, not even Odysseus, realized they pissed off Poseidon by hurting Polyphemus and that's where the storm was coming. It's just cruel and it is very obvious it weighted not only on Odysseus but on Eurylochus as well.

"He killed Helios' cow despite Odysseus warning! And then got mad at Odysseus when he didn't sacrifice himself for the crew?"

I feel like he is a little unfair for getting mad at the end, but it is also just very human. We can think of it logically because it is a story we are witnessing, but most if not all of us would've lashed out and felt betrayed if our lives ended because our closest friend (and person that was supposed to look out for us) needed to see their lover.

And the cow... I need you guys to put yourself in his shoes again. Eurylochus didn't believe they'd make it home, he had given up on life, he couldn't trust his brother in arms to bring him home alive anymore. And hunger is so heavy (sorry). Between dying of starvation or drowned by Poseidon, and dying swiftly by divine intervention for pissing off Helios, he probably didn't care (and, like, if he didn't do it someone else in the crew would've. Is the thing.)

I actually think it's such a well done thing, the way he kills the cow because he gave up but deep down doesn't actually want to die— Which is why he gets desperate and seeks for Odysseus' guidance once again when he realizes what he's done. The cow is probably the hardest thing to defend from him, but i think it is so human. And so tragic.

And I need to clarify again— This isn't against Odysseus! I think he makes so many mistakes and is so selfish but also human in a way, I can see where every character is coming from in this musical. And the Odyssey is about a man losing his humanity in a journey back home, so his actions have to be. Bad. But there's a treatment of this characters that ends up coming off as a disservice to each of them. Using Eurylochus as a scapegoat to make Odysseus look better just feels like missing the point of both and their complexities to me. Cause even after defending Eurylochus here, none of these actions are entirely justifiable! He IS hypocritical and selfish as well, and maybe a bit cruel at times. But he's not the root of all evil. If he were, Odysseus wouldn't be the lead.

This post is pretty over the place, so I apologize!it isn't meant to be read as an essay or anything too serious despite the tone that might come off of it. I'm just mostly voicing my thoughts about these characters re: some takes I've seen here and there in other platforms that I can't go too much in detail about. Would love to hear other thoughts, agreeing or disagreeing, although i might not respond too in detail. Also please befriend me i need friends into epic LOL

[tiredandoptimistic]

Thinking about how Crowley and Aziraphale are fundamentally the same. They're both good people who failed to live up to Heaven's standard of "Good." You can see what makes them different, though, when Aziraphale lies to Gabriel and is convinced that he's doomed to Fall, but Crowley tells him that's not the case; specifically that he doesn't think he'd like Hell very much. Crowley has always questioned authority. Falling was ultimately a good thing for him, because while he was never able to fit in with Heaven or Hell, at least with the demons no one looks too closely or tries to force him to act perfect. He's fine with acting like a little shit and sneakily doing good on the side. Aziraphale is the opposite. Crowley can see that even though they are equally deserving of eternal damnation, Aziraphale wouldn't like it very much, and so should stay in Heaven. Because he likes being able to see himself as The Good Guy, he wouldn't be able to find contentment with Crowley's strategy of feigned apathy.

We can see how this pulls them apart in the season two finale, when the Metatron seamlessly validates all of Aziraphale's hopes and dreams. "You're good, and Crowley's good, and God's good, and that's why you should both come back to Heaven and actually be in charge instead of those corrupt archangels." It perfectly dissolves his millenia long moral crisis of "how can I love Crowley and acknowledge his clear goodness without questioning the goodness of the Heaven that threw him out?" Bam, problem solved, blame a few bad apples.

Meanwhile, Crowley, who asked a few questions and was forced to experience the dark sides of both Heaven and Hell, has never been afraid to admit (at least to Aziraphale), that he'd rather be the secret third thing. The traits that made him fall from Heaven are the same ones that kept him from developing loyalty to Hell, meaning that he doesn't get why Aziraphale would care what any of them think. He doesn't get why he'd have a moral crisis over defecting when it was always the obvious choice.

I don't really know where I'm going here, it's just something about how they are very very similar on a basic level, which is why they've always gravitated towards each other; but their diametrically opposed traits caused them to go down wildly different paths and develop different outlooks on the world. Even though they often squabble over little things (like how a car should be driven), they both recognize their fundamental similarities enough to assume that they'll agree on big things, which is why they keep being surprised when that's not the case. Crowley sees how Aziraphale will go against God's will to do what's right, and assumes that he'll also be willing to tell Heaven to stuff it. Aziraphale sees how much Crowley cares about helping people, and assumes that he'll also want to go back to Heaven. They take it for granted that they know each other so well it's not even worth discussing what to do, since obviously either one of them knows what to do to suit both of them. This is why, in season three, they're gonna need to actually communicate about what will best suit them both, instead of just doing whatever they think will make the other happy and trying to hide the bad stuff. I can't wait to see it happen.

[emotionaldepravity]

Arranged Marriage HCs with various JJK Characters

The focus is on characters in the big three clans. Made sure to include Maki. Also included Naoya.... ahhhh! Sorry I need to write about the worst guy. I just... I have to...Also this has manga spoilers in almost all sections. If you don't know what Noritoshi's new haircut looks like, don't read this!!!!!!!!!!!!

Satoru Gojo

-Satoru gets away with a lot of things, but since he made no attempts to find a partner, he is more or less forced to agree that he has to get married.

-While many marriage requests came though, Gojo doesn't read them, he picks the sole person he plans to meet randomly.

-You just happen to be the unlucky pick. The first meeting with him is eventful with how casual he is with you despite being mostly strangers.

- He teases you constantly talking about how he is your husband to be. Honestly on lookers would think you were madly in love from his actions. He always is touching you and saying how lucky you are to get to be marrying him.

-The wedding is insanely extravagant to his tastes. Though people from other clans might not be invited, he forces Megumi to be the flower "girl." At the very least, you can convince Satoru to let the poor kid wear a suit instead of a dress.

-Once you are married, the only thing he talks about is having a kid. He is sure that since he is so good looking that the kid will be powerful and good looking too. Hope you are ready for the future...

Maki Zen'in

-Maki would kill anyone before she'd be forced down the aisle by her shitty clan. The clan only cares about the politics of the marriage so there is a good chance that they would humiliate her (and you) by marrying her off when she isn't even a part of the clan anymore.

-However, say you just happened to be the classmate she had a crush on. She might be less likely to kill you. However, that doesn't mean that she would just be okay with it.

-She'd rather get to know you properly and most likely she wouldn't ever get married to you if she actually did come to like you as a person. Her desire to change the clan would override any feelings of being happy in a relationship with you.

-Of course, once she slaughters her clan, she wouldn't plan on contacting you again. Even if you met up during the Culling Games, she wouldn't acknowledge anything but you being an ally or enemy. She is a weapon built to kill.

-The future seems impossible for you two, but at least she is finally free of obligation. Just don't try to pressure into anything for your own sake.

Noaya Zen'in

-Noaya is an asshole to you immediately since he knows he can get away with it. Even if he insults your whole clan, he knows you'll have no choice but to marry him. After all, your clan was desperate enough to send you to the Zen'in clan.

-He doesn't bother to remember your name before the wedding. The wedding itself is less of a party and more of a funeral with the quick, "say a few words and exchange rings." No one cheers and no one even seems to care that its suppose to be a celebration.

-He demands total submission, and you'll give it to him or else. You'll be expected to wait on him hand and foot. Don't dare try to ignore him or he will be more than happy than to cut off your ear for not listening.

-Though he is a bastard, he wouldn't let anyone else treat you as bad as he treats you. You are his now for better or worse. No one can break his toy but him.

-If he comes to love you, things won't be any easier for you than if he hated you. He'll start to expect affection from you and for you to stay closer to him in general. If you manage to somehow put him off and not receive his ire, he might actually ignore you. Of course this only works if he happens to finds someone to cheat on you with.

-Even if he does hate you and you survived the Zen'in massacre, Naoya wouldn't come after you as a curse. You are an afterthought to his revenge. Congrats!

Noritoshi Kamo ... not that one

-Noritoshi is extremely respectful if not cold to you at first. He has been told the whole time he was "accepted" by the clan that this would be one of his duties. He has been mentally preparing himself for a while.

-He understands that this is both something neither of you want, but he puts his whole heart into making things comfortable. This is another step towards his mother coming back into his life. If he can do anything to make things less awkward for you, he will.

-The wedding is small, clearly as an insult to him. He seems very upset that his mother couldn't attend, but he pushes the thought back when he sees you all dressed up. Overcome with excitement and emotion, you can tell that his smile is more genuine which eases your own nerves. Those that do attend would compliment you both on how lovely the two of you look together.

-Depending on how you two decide to navigate the relationship, he will either grow close to you over time or keep his distance. He would hate for his marriage to be loveless, but he wouldn't even force you to be friendly towards him.

-Once you let him in, he'd do everything he can for your happiness. He is extremely self sacrificing for someone he loves.

-If Kenjaku doesn't claim you for himself as his property when taking back his spot as Clan Head, Noritoshi will ask you to wait for him to return. Even if you are an able bodied sorcerer, he wouldn't want you throwing your life away in the Culling Games.

-Of course that doesn't mean he will work toward staying alive for you as he puts his life on the line. Forgotten by his mother, he is sure that his sinking ship will be forgotten by you too. At least you will be free.

-Hopefully one day the both of you will reunite. You will go with him to his mother and live happily...

Megumi Fushiguro

-Megumi would roll his eyes at anyone that was introduced to him.

-He doesn't have any intentions of marrying anyone for a clan he doesn't feel apart of, but he understands that the least he could do is make some effort.

-He might be willing to get to know you and might even come to terms with marrying you if he likes you. Of course that is a tall order since he wants someone who can reconcile his ideals and be willing to take care of his step sister with him.

-Of course, as time goes on, him becoming clan head falls though which saves both of you from said duty. Even if Megumi is totally unaware of it at the moment.

-Hopefully, you didn't choose to take part in the Culling Games...

[melymigo]

One of the things I loved the most about the last episodes was that they finally stated openly what motivated Crosshair: loyalty.

Anakin said it: "Loyalty means everything for the Clones." It was one of the main themes around the clones in The Clone Wars.

Crosshair also mentioned too, “You weren’t loyal to me. I was one of you. You may have forgotten, but I haven’t.” . I mean, his main theme is "Weren't Loyal to Me."

I know that a lot of people who dislike Crosshair still don't understand it. They think it was naive and selfish of Crosshair to believe in the Empire. Even they think he was motivated by "supremacy", and no matter what he says or does, it will never be enough. They would find it hard to believe that all his past actions were only motivated by loyalty; But if you give a little bit of attention to his character since his first appearance in The Clone Wars, when they went to rescue Echo from the Techno Union, for Crosshair, loyalty means everything. That's why he was so harsh to Rex, because for him, Rex left behind Echo. Rex wasn't loyal, and he knew how to push Rex's buttons.

I mean, the Clone Force 99 motto was "We don't leave our own behind." 

Crosshair was in a difficult position; he made bad decisions. Made mistakes. He felt abandoned by the ones he loved the most. He thought his only value was as a soldier and tried to prove his worth to the wrong people, and maybe if he succeeded in doing this, he wouldn't be left behind. They would be loyal to him. And I'm not trying to justify him either, but I think it was not about needing to "feel special." It was the overwhelming anxiety that if he wasn't useful, whatever, he wasn't valuable. 

Going back to my main point, in the series, they finally acknowledged Crosshair's true feelings. And I'm happy that we had the chance to see at least Howzer give Crosshair this understanding. I know a lot of clones feel the same way as Cross, and they have shown us before, like Mayday in the outpost, but by that time Crosshair was on the way to discovering that. Howzer was after that, and like Howzer or any other clone that continued serving the empire, besides chips or not/or by "choice" it's pretty difficult to assimilate that the only purpose for which you were created doesn't matter anymore. 

[saintsenara]

During the Harry Potter series, we meet many fathers. So my question is how do they wish to be called? Do they want to be a father, a Dad or a Daddy? Or something else? Like their first name or a Papa. Would someone be upset if their child called them by their first name or daddy? For example, I think Arthur would have accepted any father title from his children. But what about Lucius, Riddle Sr, Crouch Sr, Vernon,James,Riddle Jr, Tobias Snape, Orion Black, Amos Diggory and Xenophilius Lovegood.

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

and the answer - as it is when it comes to literally everything in britain - is that it all comes down to social class...

straight off the bat, though, it would be extremely rare for a school-aged child of any class-background to refer to their parents [or grandparents] using their first names - this just isn't a cultural norm in britain and ireland, and so a family which made it their standard practice [especially with children who were younger than eleven] would definitely have a counter-cultural [and probably quite crunchy] vibe.

[so an author could feasibly write luna referring to her parents as "xenophilius" and "pandora" - even though, in the books, she doesn't - without losing the lovegoods' canonical oddness. but none of the weasley children would dare.]

adult children broadly stick to whichever version of "mum" and "dad" they used as children when speaking to their parents - as bill and charlie do - although it wouldn't be thought of as rude for an adult child to use their parents' first names, so much as it would be thought of as unusual.

and so what has probably emerged from the above is that - by far - the most common scenario nowadays is for children of all social classes [and i really do mean all social classes - prince william calls the king "dad"...] to call their parents "mum" and "dad".

this would not always have been the case historically - which we'll come to - but it has been the case since at least the 1980s, and so it makes sense for the vast majority of characters in the series to use "dad" when talking to their fathers.

although of course it's never entirely that simple...

firstly, there's an age-related aspect to be aware of. most children - again of all social classes - will begin, once they have a reasonable grasp of language and have moved beyond just sounding out "mama" and "dada", by calling their parents "mummy" and "daddy". they will then switch to "mum" and "dad" [or regional equivalents - which we'll come to] at some point in primary school [the school children attend between the ages of five and eleven], especially when speaking about their parents to their peers. generally, it would be thought of as a bit cringe [regardless of gender] to still be calling your parents "mummy" and "daddy" after starting secondary school [if not before], because it would be understood as childish.

there are a few canon examples which illustrate this.

petunia dursley refers to herself as "mummy" when speaking to the teenage dudley in the opening chapters of order of the phoenix:

“Phone the police, Vernon! Phone the police! Diddy, darling, speak to Mummy! What did they do to you?”

during the build-up to this, the reader has learned that dudley [fifteen at this point] lies to his parents about doing childish activities - like having his tea at a friend's house - as a cover for roaming around beating up other children, hanging out at his friends' houses while their parents are away, and [presumably] drinking, smoking, and taking drugs. petunia's language choice, then, underscores the fact that one of her main character flaws is her refusal to accept what dudley is actually like, because admitting that he's not the perfect child she believes him to be would mean acknowledging that her perfect, non-magical, middle-class life is a farce.

harry, similarly, uses the word in order to - deliberately, in his case - underscore that he thinks the person he's talking to is [behaving like] a child when speaking to seamus in order of the phoenix and ron in deathly hallows:

“I’ll talk to you how I want,” said Harry, his temper rising so fast he snatched his wand back from his bedside table. “If you’ve got a problem sharing a dormitory with me, go and ask McGonagall if you can be moved, stop your mummy worrying - ” “So what part of it isn’t living up to your expectations?” asked Harry. Anger was coming to his defense now. “Did you think we’d be staying in five- star hotels? Finding a Horcrux every other day? Did you think you’d be back to Mummy by Christmas?”

we can also see the hidden meaning of this language choice in a character's use of it with their own parents. in order of the phoenix, for example, luna switches between calling xenophilius "dad" and "daddy" based on how credulous and strange the text wants to make her seem.

compare:

“My dad thinks it’s an awful paper,” said Luna, chipping into the conversation unexpectedly. Sucking on her cocktail onion, she gazed at Rita with her enormous, protuberant, slightly mad eyes. “He publishes important stories that he thinks the public needs to know. He doesn’t care about making money.”

with this, from the same scene:

“I don’t think Daddy exactly pays people to write for the magazine,” said Luna dreamily. “They do it because it’s an honor, and, of course, to see their names in print.” 

luna and xenophilius are both completely right that the daily prophet is an "awful paper" - and so he's "dad" - but they're both completely naive to think that journalists would consider it an honour to write for the quibbler for free - and so he's "daddy".

and so, of your list, amos diggory, vernon dursley, james potter, and arthur weasley - all of whom are normal fathers, as far as fathers go in the series - would be "daddy" when their children were very young and then "dad". xenophilius lovegood is canonically both. draco malfoy uses "dad" to refer to lucius once, at the end of order of the phoenix, so make of that what you will. the rest, we will come to...

firstly, though, there are two major exceptions to the "daddy-to-dad-pipeline" rule.

the first is regional. in ireland [both northern ireland and the republic] it is entirely standard to refer to your parents as "mammy" [note the spelling - although you will see "mummy" in the north] and "daddy" regardless of your age. unlearning this is one of the first things you do if you're irish and move abroad, lest everyone think you're deranged [ask me how i know], and so seamus was definitely working hard to code-switch properly for the first few weeks of school...

the second is class-based. in mainland britain - especially in england - referring to your parents as "mummy" and "daddy" over the age of about eleven is generally an indicator that you are incredibly posh - but, specifically, that you're posh and your relationship with your parents is close, supportive, and genial.

[although this doesn't stop it being seen as a bit odd to those outside your class-bracket - the best illustration of which can be found in the entirety of the peep show episode "sophie's parents"...]

justin finch-fletchley - for example - would almost certainly call his parents "mummy" and "daddy", based on his canon vibe. and while he doesn't do this in canon, the malfoys' family dynamic - which, whatever else you can say about it, is sincerely loving - especially when combined with draco's slight childishness, would justify the idea that he used "mummy" and "daddy" to refer to lucius and [especially] narcissa.

but here comes a detour into history.

the association of teen and adult children using "mummy" and "daddy" with being upper-middle-class or upper-class is because several other terms with similar class-based coding have fallen out of fashion since - roughly - the middle of the twentieth century.

the first of these are "mama" and "papa" - pronounced with the stress on the second syllable: ma-mahhh, pa-pahhh - which would have been taught to all posh children in early childhood [in the same way "mummy" and "daddy" are now], and then retained in their teenage years by those who were close to their parents.

the second are the latin words for mother and father, "mater" and "pater" - pronounced may-tah and pay-tah - which would only be used by teenagers upward and which have a cheerful, slightly irreverent vibe [à la bertie wooster].

you will find both of these used - especially in material either written or set prior to c. 1960 - to signify the same thing that a teen or adult using "mummy" or "daddy" would today: a posh, but nonetheless genial, parent-child relationship.

[although it's worth saying that "papa" signifies something slightly different when merope gaunt uses it in her one line in half-blood prince. in this case, when paired with her appearance and what we can reasonably imagine is a very unusual accent when speaking english, it contributes to mrs cole's belief that she came "from the circus" - that is, that she was of gypsy (on the reclamation of which term in britain and ireland, see here), roma, or traveller heritage - by making her sound "foreign".]

given the wizarding world's archaic vibes, then, lucius malfoy might very well be "papa" rather than "daddy". orion black also seems very likely to have gone by "papa" when his children were little - even if this would only have been retained by regulus as the boys entered their teens.

a tom riddle sr. who raises his son would - in the 1920s - definitely be "papa" while tom jr. was small. what he then becomes would depend on how close their relationship was.

which brings us, of course, to "mother" and "father".

the use of "mother" and "father" as nouns is completely standard in written british english. which is to say that the narrative using "mother" and "father" for james and lily outside of dialogue doesn't signify anything about what harry would have called them, what their relationship would have been like, or what they mean to him as people who are dead. these words are chosen because they're correct for the register of language used by the text.

the use of "mother" and "father" as both nouns and titles in spoken british english - on the other hand - is a bit more complicated...

it has a class element in that the concept of manners and social class are profoundly entwined - and so knowing when and to whom to say "mother" and "father is, therefore, an indicator of class-background - but what it primarily indicates is that the register of the conversation is formal.

[so, historically, even a child who called their parents "mama" and "papa" in private would switch to "mother" and "father" in company, unless they were very young.]

we see, for example, that percy weasley tends to refer to arthur and molly as "mother" and "father", even when he's in spaces [like the burrow] and company [like his siblings and harry] which wouldn't normally warrant any formality in conversation.

for example:

“Well, Father feels he’s got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn’t he?” said Percy. “If truth be told, he was a tad unwise to make a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first." “Don’t you dare blame your father for what that wretched Skeeter woman wrote!” said Mrs. Weasley, flaring up at once.  “If Dad hadn’t said anything, old Rita would just have said it was disgraceful that nobody from the Ministry had commented,” said Bill, who was playing chess with Ron. “Rita Skeeter never makes anyone look good. Remember, she interviewed all the Gringotts’ Charm Breakers once, and called me ‘a long-haired pillock’?”

percy's language choice is a way for the text to underscore that he's a character the reader is supposed to interpret as boring, stuffy, and pretentious [and as someone harry likes much less than the other weasleys] - as well as to emphasise specific notes about his personality, such as the fact that he's someone who values manners and social convention more than his siblings.

[molly uses "your father" as a way of emphasising that percy's criticism of arthur is ridiculous. bill is the one speaking sense.]

this doesn't mean that the text is suggesting that arthur and molly love percy any less than his siblings - nor that they treat him cruelly, nor that percy's affection for them [at least prior to order of the phoenix] isn't sincere. it just means that he's someone the doylist text wants the reader to think is a bit of a prig.

in other cases, the formality implied by "mother" and "father" lends a certain impersonality to the dialogue in which it's used. for example, draco malfoy tending to refer to lucius malfoy - especially when lucius isn't there - as "[my] father" is a way for the text to hammer home that draco sees his father as a figurehead [an imagined, constructed lucius, who's so important and respected and impressive that he can do literally anything] whom he longs to emulate, and that he wants to convince his peers of this fact.

[luna does something similar - in half-blood prince she uses "father" when telling harry that xenophilius has proven that rufus scrimgeour is a vampire. the language choice here is an appeal to authority.]

hence why the only time in the series that draco calls lucius "dad" comes after his father is sent to azkaban at the end of order of the phoenix - and, indeed, is the beginning of the journey towards understanding his family with more nuance that he goes through in the final two books of the series:

“You’re going to pay,” said Malfoy in a voice barely louder than a whisper. “I’m going to make you pay for what you’ve done to my father...” “Well, I’m terrified now,” said Harry sarcastically. “I s’pose Lord Voldemort’s just a warm-up act compared to you three - what’s the matter?” he said, for Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had all looked stricken at the sound of the name. “He’s your dad’s mate, isn’t he? Not scared of him, are you?” “You think you’re such a big man, Potter,” said Malfoy, advancing now, Crabbe and Goyle flanking him. “You wait. I’ll have you. You can’t land my father in prison - ” “I thought I just had,” said Harry.  “The dementors have left Azkaban,” said Malfoy quietly. “Dad and the others’ll be out in no time...”

draco's scared and vulnerable - he's trying to threaten harry, to do what the figurehead-lucius of his imagination would, but his heart's not in it. he wants his actual dad, and the mask slips.

the formality behind "mother" and "father" in spoken english can obviously indicate that the speaker is being polite. it can also, however, indicate that they're very much not - and that the speaker doesn't like the person they're speaking to enough to use more colloquial language.

luna comes in clutch for us here once again:

“Of course not,” said Hermione scathingly, before Harry could answer, “The Quibbler’s rubbish, everyone knows that.” “Excuse me,” said Luna; her voice had suddenly lost its dreamy quality. “My father’s the editor.”

[hermione refers to xenophilius as "luna's father" throughout the last three books - which demonstrates what sort of esteem she holds him in...]

and, of course, the formality of this language can also imply distance.

sirius using "my mother" and "my father" - for example - is the way that the text shows, even before he's said a word to harry about his complicated family history, that he and his parents weren't close - and not only that they weren't close, but that their relationship was formal, mannered, surface-level, disinterested, dependent on convention, and so on. which him using "your dad" when speaking to harry about james then really hammers home.

and so, if an author wants to write orion black, lucius malfoy, or tom riddle sr. as having relationships with their children which have that flavour, then these men would be addressed as "father" no matter the context. similarly, barty crouch sr. - whose fatal flaw is a total failure to understand his son - was definitely "father" [while his wife, who barty crouch jr. was canonically much closer to, was probably not "mother" in private - really emphasising the discordance in that household...].

when it comes to our last two daddies...

what severus snape would have called his parents depends on two things: where cokeworth is and where both tobias and eileen snape were from.

which is to say, it seems to be pretty common in fics for him to call them "ma" and "da". and my understanding of this is that it happens because authors want to communicate that severus comes from a working-class background and that he evidently grows up speaking with a regional accent.

and it's certainly true that what you call your parents - especially your mother - varies by region, and that using dialect terms communicates the complicated tangle of regional- and class-identity which brits outside of southern england are mixed up in.

[for example, i am northern irish - which is not a sophisticated thing to be in britain - and i refer to my mother as my mam when speaking to anyone in mainland britain for the same reasons that i play up my accent in these circumstances. it's refusing to code-switch.]

so petunia - in snape's memories - uses "mummy" when speaking to lily as an early indicator of her social-climbing tendencies - she doesn't want to sound working-class. severus would obviously not give a shit about this.

but "ma" and "da" are not words which you'd expect to find in common use in the bit of north-west england which is above birmingham but below manchester, which is where cokeworth seems to be.

an author could choose to shift the town further north - "ma" and "da" are both used in liverpool and the surrounding area, for example [and scouse snape would be iconic, i fear] - or could assume that they entered severus' vocabulary in other ways - if his parents are from the north-east [especially around newcastle], if they're scottish, or if they're welsh - but the most likely explanation if an author wishes to use them would be that one or both of tobias and eileen [like many people in this part of the world] was an irish immigrant.

i am wedded to the headcanon that tobias snape is northern irish [and catholic, which "others" the snapes in the eyes of people like the evanses long before they know about the magic] - even though there's no evidence for this in the text - and so i can accept fics using "ma" and "da" in this context.

but it's much more likely that the terms severus uses are "mam" and "dad" [if you're locating cokeworth closer to manchester], "mom" and "dad" [if you're locating cokeworth in the black country], or "mum" and "dad". any of these would indicate his working-class background, when paired with the rest of his speech patterns, appearance, and behaviour.

in a world where tom riddle jr. is left holding the baby after bellatrix dies and is something other than a total deadbeat when confronted with this scenario, what's he's going to insist on being called will depend on which of his various personal idiosyncrasies he's indulging that day.

if the orphanage jumps out, he's "dad" - which would be the word he grew up hearing [but never being able to use, poor angel] among the working-classes in whichever bit of london he was raised in. if he's willing to acknowledge paternity, but doesn't want to give his progeny the impression that he cares about her, he's "father". if he's a doting dad [lmao] and wants to play at being an aristocrat, he's probably "papa".

if we're being realistic... wee delphini, like everyone else, is calling him "my lord".

[antianakin]

@theneutralmime

Personally I feel like Anakin crossed that line when he decided dictatorship was a good choice of government and massacred an entire village of Tuskens down to the last child. Anakin is unrepentant about BOTH of these things and so I find it hard to believe he can be "saved" at that point in any way that matters.

However.

Star Wars is all about choices. Anakin is making some irrevocably bad ones by AOTC already, he's not a good PERSON truly in AOTC (I find it hard to believe that someone who is as racist, sexist, arrogant, and selfish as Anakin is in this film can truly be considered "good" still). But that doesn't mean he can't still make BETTER ones. He recognizes that he's made a bad choice regarding the Tuskens in the sense that he knows a good Jedi wouldn't have done it, so there's like... a GLIMMER of hope in that, the last vestiges of Anakin recognizing that he's making bad choices. And maybe if someone OTHER THAN PADME "THE ENABLER" AMIDALA had been there with him in the wake of the Tusken massacre, someone like Obi-Wan or another Jedi maybe, they'd have been able to grasp onto that glimmer and help him move back towards the path he can still see but is choosing to walk away from. But what he gets from Padme instead is an excuse. He KNOWS the Jedi would consider it a bad choice, but Padme, like Palpatine, tells him that what he's done is okay, that it's different because it's HIM, because Anakin is SPECIAL. "To be angry is to be human" gets translated in Anakin's head as "It was okay to kill the Tuskens because I was angry over what happened to my mother and this was a normal and natural reaction to have" which allows him to DISMISS what he knows the Jedi would've believed about it as unimportant.

So like. Anakin CAN be saved. That's always true. It just won't be by Padme, or Obi-Wan, or Ahsoka, or even Luke. Anakin HAS to be saved by his own choice. He can be saved because he can ALWAYS make better choices. That's the whole point of his choice in ROTJ. He's been Vader for over 20 years, he betrayed the Jedi, destroyed the galaxy, killed his own pregnant wife, upheld a fascist tyrant, allowed Alderaan to be blown up and forced Leia to watch, enslaved the clones, and chopped off his own son's hand. And he can STILL make a better choice. And that's just as true on Tatooine after the Tusken massacre and on Mustafar after Order 66 as it is on the Death Star over two decades later.

The problem is that Anakin, generally, doesn't WANT to be saved because that requires acknowledging he NEEDS SAVING TO BEGIN WITH, which requires acknowledging he's done something wrong. And Anakin is just incapable of actually being able to admit he's actually IN THE WRONG about anything and constantly finds ways to excuse the things he does and the way he feels in order to see himself as in the right and as the hero of the story because it's easier and less painful.

So when Padme and Palpatine offer him excuses and tell him he's special and it's the Jedi who are wrong, Anakin grabs onto those excuses with both hands and refuses to let them go. He uses them to paper over what he's done in his head so he never has to look at them again and if he does, that he can interpret them as his triumphs instead of his failures. On Mustafar, this becomes particularly obvious. He yells at Obi-Wan that he "turned Padme against him" despite that being an utterly ridiculous thing to think. He tells Obi-Wan that from his point of view, the Jedi are evil, because it's easier to excuse murdering them all if they're the villains. He claims he has brought "peace, freedom, security, and justice" to "his" new Empire, even though he has brought none of these things and the Empire is not his at all.

Anakin is the King of lying to himself about his own crimes because he refuses to do the work of acknowledging his own failures in order to do and be better. So he CAN save himself, but it will only happen when he is actually willing to take that first step. When Padme shows up on Mustafar, that isn't something he's willing to do. When Obi-Wan tries to talk to him on Mustafar, that isn't something he's willing to do. When he sees Ahsoka on Malachor, that isn't something he's willing to do. When Luke comes to Bespin, that isn't something he's willing to do. Anakin CANNOT and WILL NOT make a different choice until it benefits him to do so. And that's exactly what happens. He only is capable of making the selfless choice when he has no other option if he wants to save Luke.

So COULD Anakin be saved on Mustafar? Yeah, sure. He COULD save himself. He just won't. It's not a choice he's willing to make at this point in his life, so it isn't going to happen even though the choice is always available to him.

[jolalibrary]

memories are fresh

cod soap mactavish x f!reader (callsign: squid)

thank you to voldie asking for happy angst — apparently the genre of what I write hahaha (voldie because they asked to not be named) warnings: angst. brief past mention of bickering. tense situations, with emotional convo. fluff. squid/mar is the nickname (from the miniseries) ends happy, promise. wordcount: 1.4k

soap masterlist

It’s quiet. Silent.

Has been for several minutes, which have ticked past on your watch. Not that you move—nor him. Not even as the long grass stems tickle your wrists and the weeds groan around the two of you.

The rain still patters against the leaves above, the branches swinging in the wind—the downpour smothering any oncoming footsteps, even in the bogginess of the countryside.

He’s breathing heavily next to you, catching his breath. His eyes focused elsewhere, as though he can’t bear to look your way, something you know isn't true, but just your mind playing tricks on you.

The remnants of the earlier bickering, still living and pulsing between the two of you. Or, at least, it is for you.

It had begun petty, but they always did. The two of you never really argued, just light bickering. Just this time, with the truth unwilling to be spoken, it had gotten close to personal before you both stopped it. Throwing apologies like blankets, hoping it would snuff out the smoke.

Jealousy had been an ingredient, a factor. Another had been a need to protect. Memories were the spices, still fresh—that former longing still clinging to bones, even if it’s him you choose, over and over.

None of that matters when a poor choice of words is made, when they fall from lips carelessly and greet ears cruelly.

Hear y'asked Price to go with LT. I enquired— Y'not fancy me goin' wit yer, hen? We told Price we wouldn't let this get in the way. And I'm not. Let it go, Soap. Aye, seems it. It’s not that I refuse to be partnered with you. I'm just choosing not to be. That so, Mar? I... I didn't mean—

The moment the words kissed the air, it changed things. You felt it, snapping your head in his direction to watch how he stilled his expression. Tried to keep all the pieces stationary. The words still shifted in the air, like your lips were poison, you watched the air turn black, rotting and eroding all the previous smiles or laughter.

Soap knew you were his, like you knew he was yours. It is all a fact, not a myth.

If anything, it was obvious it had been that way for longer than you both felt the need to acknowledge. Your sleeping pattern revolves around him, your calmness determined by his current location and physicality.

Yet, sometimes, memories from when you were friends needled past the bubble the two of you had formed. The one which grew with I need you’s and solidified with future plans. It wasn’t impenetrable, but close.

That’s how it got in. The jealousy. It slithered through the gaps which were still left. It lit the match, which illuminated the gas and the fire spread before the two of you landed in the European countryside. It engulfed and choked the air as you travelled closer to the place marked X by Price. It only silenced, stemmed under the quick apologies and I love yous, but then a new sound alerted you both to worry.

A bullet, one which whirred past your ear. You're thrown back, landing in mud, his weight on top of yours—for reasons different than a day ago.

Then it was shouting, both from the two of you, and some from them. It was bullets and boots meeting mud, it was legs sliding down banks, and his hand trying to find yours.

Now, it was silent for other reasons.

The rocks and trees doing well to hide the two of you, an explanation for the catalyst of the childish bickering sitting on your tongue. Evidenced by today—words which wouldn’t be said with bitterness, but rather with hope for real respite.

It’s been fifteen minutes of silence. No shouts in foreign languages, no bullets—nothing but the rain. It’s why you shuffle, boot almost sliding down the grassy hill—his hand grasping your upper arm without so much as looking.

It’s then you decide to let honesty out, rather than keeping it caged. Decided to abandon stubbornness, and let him in—a thing you grow close to being used to, until you find yourself stepping back into old patterns.

“Johnny…”

He hums, still looking, listening—ever the protector.

“I don’t wanna be with you out here because I can’t think straight,” you whisper.

The confession bursts the tension. Watching it fall like glitter and paper, flecks of it in his eyes when he turns his face to you.

Streaks of mud across his cheek, hair all at odd angles—beads of rain and sweat muddled together on his brow and nose.

Even covered in the earth, you weren’t sure you’d ever seen someone more handsome.

You offer a smile. “It’s one thing to hear that the person you love has…” you swallow, shifting your weight, “It’s another to see it. And we're both... stupid, stubborn—”

“Mar…”

Shaking your head, you hear the rest of his words die on his tongue. The two of you sigh, perfectly in time, in tune with the other.

Smiling, you should suggest moving—to try and make it back to the place you were to radio from, but he looks at you. Instead, you let it all unfurl—the cards you’ve been keeping close to your chest.

The ones held there by fear, that feeling which puts you on edge, waiting for him to realise he deserves better.

“I told you before, Johnny,” you whisper, almost afraid of saying it any louder, “I’d be lost without you, I meant it then, but I mean it more now.”

His eyes flash, dancing with the memory. One from another night in the rain, outside a pub then, rather than a large tree—an oak, maybe—with leaves which were hammered above by unfortunate weather.

And then, he’s giving you a look. Not his usual look, and not the one he gives you when he’s worried. The softer one, the one which comes out when you’re curled around one another under sheets; the one which lived, half-cloaked, in his eyes before the two of you were honest about your feelings.

Slowly, almost cautiously, his fingers, besmear with mud and dirt, slide across your cheek, eyes ablaze with something more than adrenaline, gratitude and righteousness.

“Y’not gonna lose me, Mar…”

You curl into his touch, having craved it. “You can’t promise me that.”

He drops his eyes, lips spreading into a line, before he flicks them back up. “I love—“

“—I know,” you say, too quickly.

Soap half-smiles, thumb stroking your jaw. “No, Mar. Y’don’t. You wanna partner wit someone else, worrying what you’ll see. I wanna partner with y’, so I can make sure nothing happens t’ you.”

Eyes brimming, you take a low breath. “You haven’t got to always save me.”

He smiles, mirroring the one you slowly let free over your lips. Hearing it, without him saying it, 'Gonna keep tryin', hen', even if the two of you know that not a lot stops bullets meeting flesh.

It's what scares you about partnering with him—what he's willing to do for the cause, and more what he's willing to do to keep you alive.

Not that you can blame him, you'd take a thousand for him too.

You watch him, how he leans closer, smiling as you say, “You can’t kiss me.”

“Why not?”

Smirking, you lose yourself in the pools of his eyes. Tell yourself the reason your hair is stuck to your skin is because you’ve dived in them.

“Because, I’ll kiss you back.”

“Aye? The horror.”

Shaking your head, he strokes a line across your jaw.

“And then I’ll want to take your vest off, and then your top, and then—because you hate being the only topless one when I’m around—we’ll both be topless, distracted, and likely be shot.”

Snorting, he taps your jaw lightly, before dropping his hand. “Y’have a point.”

“It’s why you love me.”

���That and you got a nice arse.”

Letting your head roll back, you fight a snigger.

“Mar…” he whispers, rolling your head to meet his eyes. “Y’dont have to partner wit’ me, when it’s just two o’ us. I get it, alright. Scares me t’.”

And you nod, a silent thank you, taking his hand in yours as you squeeze it—before drawing a heart on the back of it.

Him shuffling, slowly managing to stand without slipping, holding his hand out to you. Taking it with ease, knowing you won’t fall—won’t slip.

Johnny would never let you.

The two of you finding even footing before you glance at him, taking him all in. The mud over his vest, the way his wet top clings to his arms.

"Who'd you rather I partner with, after you?"

He pauses, adjusting the tightness of his vest, checking his gun.

"Ghost?" you ask, biting your bottom lip as you try not to smile.

"Y'pushing yer luck, Mar."

i don't do tag lists, but voldie said i can do this, so i'm gifting this flangsty little numbers to @brewed-pangolin because i adore them, and they love squid, they love angst, and more so love soap.