#not even a little I am not joking sometimes I feel like we watched vastly different episodes
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you can put words in any order
#girl that is not . KILLING VICKI?#for your information he is in love with her.#secondly. THAT IS NOT REMOTELY WHAT IS GOING ON IN THAT SCENE#not even a little I am not joking sometimes I feel like we watched vastly different episodes#⤠ooc. â sheâs nauseousďźsheâs hystericalďźand sheâs exhausted.#man beats his son on screen: eh itâs fine#man implies itâs ok to kidnap your governess a little to scare her: heartbreaking child abuse#let me see if I have this. your aunt elizabeth gives you an order but to get you to follow itâ#I need to come down hereâ put on a showâ and convince you it's in your interests.#but I give you a look and you're willing to murder a governess over it?
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Just Say It And Iâm Yours-Ch.1
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Warnings: Language, stalking ish themes
Words: 1490
Summary: Steve is considering retiring from being Captain America. He doesnât remember why he took the shield or what it means for him anymore. Then he met you.Â
A/N: First and foremost I am SO SORRY FOR BEING SO SHIT AT SUMMARIES. I just donât want to give anything away. Second, this is my first series! So like, comment, reblog, let me know you want to see more of this. This story is going to start in Steveâs perspective and switch to the readers. Iâll let you guys know when the POV is shifting so no worries. So, this first chapter is told through Steve. Third, if I missed any warnings please let me know. Last but most CERTAINTLY not least, a very VERY special thanks to @river-soulâ for reading through this and assuring me it was a good first chapter. I am so grateful for you. Let me know what you think! (Gif by @navybrat817 )
âSteve, she's getting married tomorrow,â Bucky solemnly states as he puts a hand on Steveâs shoulder. âIf youâre going to do something you better do it soon.âÂ
âI know Buck, but what could I say to her? I havenât been able to tell her how I feel about her for years.â Steve looked out over the lake, his eyes pricking with tears. âShe made her decision.âÂ
âYouâre an idiot. Youâve been in love with her since you first saw her. If you donât tell her, sheâs going to make the biggest mistake of her life. We both know that,â Bucky sighed, raking a hand over his face. âI know she loves you. You need to talk to her. She canât marry him Steve, you know the second she does sheâll be gone forever. The person you knew reduced to, whatever this shell of a person is.â
Steve rubbed the back of his neck and looked down where the water was gently lapping against the shore. After a few moments, he heard Bucky make his way back to the lodge. As the small waves ebbed and flowed against the shallow shore Steve thought about you and how he was an absolute coward back when you were a big part of his life.Â
One and a half years ago
Steve was sketching at Marine Park in Brooklyn during golden hour when everything seemed to glow. He needed a break from his Captain America responsibilities and every time he put his charcoal to the paper everything seemed to melt away. The world was vastly different since he came out of the ice and he felt his heart swell thinking about all the fights he had to endure in order to restore some semblance of peace in the universe. He was happy that he had his best friend back, cleared of the mind control Hydra put in him and he made so many new friends and a family in The Avengers. Yet, as he drew out the skyline on the thick white paper, he couldnât help but feel like he was still missing something. He knew he needed a break from his duties to figure it out constantly being pulled into a fight was a great distraction, but he knew he needed to figure out what brought meaning to his life. The decision to take time off gnawed at Steve like a dog to a bone, who was he if he wasnât Captain America?
Steve heard you before he saw you, picking up the fierce tone you were using made him glad he wasnât on the receiving end of your reprimand. Steve looked up to see you wedged in between a woman and her dog and a man probably twice your size towering over you, trying to be intimidating. The fact you stepped forward refusing to back down made Steve smile, oddly fond of your bravery. The commotion you were making drew a small crowd and Steve felt a strange pull to join the group to be close to you.Â
âWho the fuck do you think you are? Following this poor woman around like a stalker,â You yelled, poking your finger in his chest. âDid you think she was being coy when she told you to stop following her? Was that some deranged invitation to keep on top of her the rest of the world is unaware of?â
Steve could tell that you were not about to back down as you protected the other woman. The fire in your eyes was something Steve was familiar with in himself before he went into the ice. He noticed the man ball his hands into fists and before you could react he had pulled back to hit you. Steve jumped in and caught the punch, inches from your face.
âYouâre gonna want to walk away pal before you make things worse for yourself.âÂ
Steveâs voice was low in warning. When he glanced over at you, you looked up at him almost offended that he had stepped in. Before Steve could say anything you returned your gaze to the other man and swiftly kneed him in the balls.Â
âStop following women you fucking asshole,â you admonished as the man crumpled to the ground in pain. âI know you probably have a hard time listening to women when they say no because there is just a bunch of empty space where your brain is supposed to be, but maybe take this as a warning.���Â
Steve watched you slack jawed as you flagged down a police officer to give a statement to. He observed you as you spoke with the other woman, who was visibly shaken by the incident, with such genuine concern and kindness. He couldnât stop looking at you as you soothed her with gentle touches and quiet whispers. Steve waited for his turn to speak with the officers regarding the incident, after which the man was taken into custody. When Steve turned around you were walking towards him.Â
âUmm thanks for catching the punch,â you said with a shrug. âI could have taken him though.âÂ
Steve let out a soft chuckle.Â
âWell I wouldnât be much of a superhero if I stood around and let a civilian get clocked for defending someone.â
You cocked your eyebrow at him and crossed your arms.Â
âYeah but youâre not in the suit, which means youâre off duty. Either way Iâm grateful, I have a job interview tomorrow and canât really show up with a black eye. It wouldnât really say âhire me Iâm even tempered and have a keen ability to moderate conflict in a calm respectful manner.â â
Steve smiled, letting out a sigh as he cast his eyes to the ground.
 âOh sweetheart Iâm always on duty, comes with the territory.âÂ
He looked up to see you watching him with kindness and understanding.
âIâm sure that must be a very heavy burden to carry,â You sighed. âI hope you can take a vacation or something soon. It looks like you might need one.â
To say Steve was enamored by you would be the understatement of the century. In the brief time he had spent with you, he had noticed that you were fierce, kind, honest, compassionate, and absolutely stunning. He found himself physically having to shake his head to keep from staring at you.
âIâm Steve,â he blurted out. âI feel like you already know that though. It was really nice of you to say that. Sometimes I only see myself as Captain America, no vacation days in sight.âÂ
Steve chuckled as you rolled your eyes at him.
âY/N, and I mean it. You shouldnât feel like youâre always on duty.â Â
You pointed your finger at his chest.
âBesides, Iâm a tough girl, I can handle myself. You should trust people a bit more Rogers.âÂ
You gave Steve a cheeky grin and started walking away.
Steve scrambled to follow you, not ready to have your conversation end.
âSo, job interview? What do you do?âÂ
Steve easily kept your stride. When you chuckled Steve swore his heart skipped a beat.
âWould you believe Iâm a victim advocate? I have an interview with the state prosecutor. I make sure anyone who has experienced trauma of any sort is represented and protected during court cases and criminal trials,â you stated proudly.Â
âAfter what I just witnessed, I would have been more surprised if you told me you were an accountant.â Steve joked. âWould it be okay if I walked you wherever youâre going? I know you can handle yourself but Iâd like to make sure you donât leave a trail of broken men in your wake.â
You snorted out laughter.Â
âYeah wouldnât want to get put away for attacking more skeezy men. That sounds great Captain, thank you.â
Steve smiled and kept asking you questions on your walk. He had this need to know everything he could about you since you blew into his life like a sunshower. When Steve got you back to your apartment the sun was just setting.
âWell Rogers, itâs been an interesting day,â you say, nonchalantly fiddling with your keys.
âIâll say, I didnât think my day would consist of watching someone stand up for another woman who almost got punched, then kneeing the guy in the balls.âÂ
Steve smiled.
âI am pleasantly surprised with the way my day turned out,â he told you.
âWell thereâs a lot more where that came from if you stick with me Cap.âÂ
You smirked at Steve grabbing his sketchbook.Â
âHereâs my number, if you ever need a little extra adventure in your life, call me,â you said.Â
With that you turned the key in the lock and pushed yourself inside the apartment. Steve was left to stand staring at your closed door. He didnât know what force drove you into his life but knowing you for those few hours made him feel more alive than he had in years.
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#marvel fic#marvel#captain america x reader
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So I Just Finished Skam...
First of all, I loved it. It was an incredible show and I'm so glad that there are so many remakes because I enjoyed it so much. One of my favorite things about the show was the fact that it feels extremely realistic, and I think a lot of that is due to the fact that a majority of the actors were actual teenagers (rather than actors who are obviously in their mid 20s and playing characters who are 16) and the fact that the characters behaved like actual teenagers (like using Facebook and Instagram, using "bad" language, dancing and singing along to music, etc. etc.). The other thing I adored about this show was the amount of importance that was placed on friendship. Platonic relationships in fiction are normally vastly underrated or underdeveloped in favor of romantic ones, so I appreciated that Skam showed so many friendships. So I decided to make a list of my favorite friendship moments from each season (two moments per season, with honorable mentions at the end before moving on).
Season 1:
1) Noora cheering up Eva by singing Justin Bieber to her:
I am not a fan of Justin Bieber at all (if you like him, all the more power to you, but I personally can't stand him), but Noora singing to Eva was such a great moment. She knew how sad Eva was, and decided to cheer her up by sharing something that made her (Noora) happy, and it was a really sweet moment between friends. It was also something that is realistic to do when someone you care about is down, and even though it was a small scene, it showed how strong a friendship Noora and Eva have.
2) All of the bonding moments between Sana, Vilde, Eva, Noora, and Chris:
I know this is a vague one, but just the sheer amount of time the girls spend together, whether they are doing something important or just hanging out was really awesome to see. Most of the time, tv shows don't take time to show us little moments like characters talking about boys or just sitting hanging out unless it has a more dramatc purpose. With Skam, we got to see those moments, which made the friendship between the girls that much more realistic.
Honorable Mentions for Season 1:
Eva grabbing the wrong Chris for Vilde, leading both Chris and Penetrator Chris (love that nearly everyone calls him that in the show by the way) to share a huge hug and go "name twins!" because that's totally something I'd do if I met someone who shared my name.
Eva and Ingrid finally talking about everything that happened, giving them both closure and the ability to move on, even if their friendship would never be the same (this was such a great scene because it showed Eva apologizing and telling Ingrid that she couldn't change what she did, but she would if she could, and it also allowed Ingrid to be hurt by what happened with Jonas, because let's face it, Ingrid was the injured party in that particular situation).
Season 2:
1) Noora telling Vilde all of the important things that the ingredients for tortilla do for you, and Vilde later doing the same for Noora:
I love how all of the girls take care of one another, but this scene in particular I loved a lot. Noora has noticed that Vilde hasn't been eating, and after hearing Vilde tell her all the reasons she doesn't like potatoes, Noora tells Vilde all the reasons she should. Noora also does so in a way that isn't shaming Vilde or being condescending to her, rather, Noora brings it up in a casual conversation. Later, Vilde notices Noora not eating, and prepares tortilla for her, quoting what Noora told her about potatoes and eating it with her. I loved this scene because it showed how much Noora and Vilde understood one another, as well as the importance of support.
2) The amount of support given to Noora by the girls after she discloses what happened with Nico:
This one is a total no-brainer. Noora had no idea what had happened that night, and had very little to go off of, and she spent the next few episodes terrified. When she tells the girls what she thinks might have happened, they all immediately stop what they're doing and rally around her. The no-dialogue scene in which they take Noora to the doctor and hold her and keep her safe was incredibly touching, and to be honest, nearly made me tear up.
Honorable Mentions for Season 2:
Sana and Chris playing a joke on the girls at the cabin during their break, because that whole episode was hilarious, and the individual ways each girl reacted was totally in character for each of them.
All of the girls telling Noora that they knew about her and William, because it was the most obvious thing in the world, and Noora being sheepish and surprised that she hadn't been hiding it as well as she thought.
Season 3:
1) Jonas, Magnus, and Mahdi telling Isak what to text Even:
This scene was so funny, and not the type I usually get to see when it comes to male friendships. I love that Isak tells them that he has no idea how to reply to Even, and Jonas tells him what he should say, with Magnus and Mahdi inserting their opinions and talking about how they text girls. It was enjoyable to watch because too many times fiction shows us that boys don't have the same relationship confusion that girls do, and it's often not true. I like that this scene allowed the boys to just be boys, because everybody deals with uncertainty, especially when it comes to liking someone.
2) Linn and Even playing video games together:
I know this scene is literally like two seconds and that we only see them ending from Isak's perspective, but hear me out. I'm pretty sure this is the first scene we see that shows Linn actively smiling and looking happy. Also, Even had just come off of a manic episode, was feeling depressed, and when we see him playing video games with Linn, he too looks actually happy, which is always great to see. Plus, the way Linn and Even are interacting with one another, it looks like they've known each other forever rather than two people who have just met, and even though it was a fraction of a scene, it was super great to watch.
Honorable Mentions for Season 3:
The entire development of Sana and Isak's friendship (I almost broke my "only two friendship moments" per season rule for this, but I decided to stick to my guns). Isak and Sana have a great friendship and I love how it came out of nowhere. Their friendship is literally started by being partnered together for school, which only happened because Sana sat by Isak to tell him that she had the weed he hid (a beautiful start to a beautiful friendship).
Isak coming out to Jonas by telling him that he liked someone and giving him the hint that it wasn't a girl, and Jonas reacting by thinking about the hint for a minute and then going "it's not me...is it?" because the expression Jonas had on his face while he thought about who it could be was funny because it looked like the fact that Isak had just come out to him wasn't even on his radar, because he was more concerned about guessing right, and the fact that he guessed himself was humorous to me.
Season 4:
1) Chris being a total ride-or-die friend to Sana after the stuff regarding the hate accounts for Sara and Vilde came out:
Everybody needs a friend like Chris. She is without a doubt one of the most loyal tv show characters I've seen and I wish Skam had run for more seasons so we could get a Chris season (and a Vilde season and an Even season, and a spin-off for Eskild and Linn, who both totally deserve one). Chris is the first person Sana told about the Sara account, and the first thing she did was tell Sana that the hate would blow over if Eva found out the truth (because Eva and everybody else thought Isak was responsible for it, and Eva was pissed AF at him). Chris also made sure that Sana knew that she didn't hate her for what happened, because everybody screwed up (seriously, we all need a friend like Chris).
2) The girls showing up to the bus meeting in their own tiny bus named "Los Losers" for Sana, effectively showing all of the Pepsi-Max girls (like Penetrator Chris, that will forever be their name) that if you mess with one of them, you mess with all of them. Sana was terrified that the girls would never forgive her, and when they all show up in the bus screaming her name, the joy on Sana's face is practically tangible. I love that they all pull Sana into the bus and give the Pepsi-Max girls the finger as they drive off, because really, what better way to show the true bonds of friendship than by collectively flipping off a ton of girls who messed with one of their own.
Honorable Mentions for Season 4:
Sana and Even's friendship, and the fact that she protected and respected his privacy when Isak asked her why she never said that she already knew Even, because too many times do I see characters give away information to other people that isn't theirs to give, and the fact that it didn't matter to Sana that Isak and Even were together, she was still going to make sure that Even had a right to the details of his personal life was extremely important.
The conversation between Sana and Jamilla about their schooling and Islam, because the texts we see between them prior to their falling out show that they were very close, and it was nice to see them talk and reconcile, because that's how life works sometimes. You fight and fall out with people, and after time passes, sometimes there is reconciliation.
#skam#skam og#skam original#skam norway#eva mohn#eva kviig mohn#noora sĂŚtre#noora amalie sĂŚtre#sana bakkoush#vilde hellerud#vilde lien hellerud#chris berg#jonas vasquez#jonas noah vasquez#isak valtersen#even bech nĂŚsheim#magnus fossbakken#mahdi disi#I think I got them all#friendship in fiction#it's important#platonic relationships matter#even bech naeshiem
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stole all the air from my atmosphere
Read on ao3
Summary:Â Han Joonhwi thinks maybe pulling all-nighters wasnât so bad after all, even when youâve practically finished studying ages ago.
Rating: T
Word count:Â 1,577
Notes:Â Inspired by a poem by Timothy Joshua. And totally optional, but I recommend listening to this song while reading.
~
Hey, all. Thanks for waiting patiently for an update. This fic is in response specifically to a request I received here. I know a lot of people have been requesting for a sequel to âgave me no compasses, gave me no signsâ as well; truthfully, Iâm not sure if this fic is in the same âuniverseâ as that one â all I can definitively say is that this still follows the canon. So, Iâll leave it up to you to decide if itâs the same timeline or not. I have a lot of fic ideas lined up for an âofficialâ sequel, anyway. ;)Â
The Solhwi brain rot just gets more potent as we anticipate the new episodes â I absolutely love receiving plot ideas from all of you, and while itâs a challenge to interpret it in my own way, I still hope that itâs on par with your expectations. As always, Iâd love to hear your thoughts and comments. You can send me a message anytime too! I know I say this often, but your continued support really really keeps me motivated to write. Would love to make new friends as well, if we can help it.
Okay, the note is getting too long now. As usual, the fic is under the cut, and all mistakes in this fic are mine. Enjoy!Â
~
There was that moment, when you stole all the air from my atmosphere; when my heart pounded within the might of all the planets.
Itâs the third time Han Joonhwi has bit his tongue in the past ten minutes, attempting to stifle his oncoming yawns, trying not to cause any disturbance. He fights his drowsiness as best as he can, hoping that his companion wouldnât notice â and yet, as his luck would have it, the moment he couldnât hold it in any longer just so happened to be the exact same moment the person next to him lifted her nose from the book it was buried in.
Without looking at him, she flips another page. Tone commanding but masked with concern, Kang Sol mumbles, âJust go to bed already.â
So much for being lowkey, he thought. Joonhwi stretches himself awake, thinking of the perfect response: casual enough to make it look like he doesnât care, but caring enough that she wouldnât push him away. âNot until youâre done,â he finalizes.
Sol scoffs, tossing her pen lightly on the table. âYou donât even take this class.âÂ
Well, of course he knew that. But Kang Sol A â truthfully, he prefers to omit the distinction: no matter how many Kang Sols there are in Korea, or hell, even in the entire world, heâs only got eyes for one â is not getting anything out of him. If getting Joonhwi to admit his true feelings was her goal, sheâs far from reaching it.
âYou know why Iâm here,â he sidetracked.Â
Unconvinced, she turns to him with a provoking look, and Joonhwi already knows sheâs about to go on a long-winded rant. âYeah, yeah, I do,â she started. âYou want to hang out with me but instead of just asking like a normal person, you make up this lame excuse about how I need to study even though I was already planning on doing that anyway. You practically finished studying ages ago so you just sitting there doing nothing is really rubbing salt in my wounds.âÂ
He watches her with both his hands on his head, suppressing a smile. Finding an opening, Sol pushes his chest lightly. âI donât need you here. Get out.âÂ
She said it so weakly that he knows thereâs no way she could have meant it. Making sure she doesnât lose her balance, Joonhwi quickly takes hold of her wrists and gently places them back on the table. âYou talk too much,â he breathed.Â
Sol purses her lips in annoyance and propped her chin up with her hand. âYeah, well, thatâs why youâre dating me,â she pouted.
If she keeps putting him in his place like this, he might actually have to walk out, but not for the reasons sheâd expect him to, like his supposed exhaustion. Joonhwi knows Sol doesnât do this on purpose, but she naturally has a way of making him flustered, and heâs trying really hard not to lose his cool right now.Â
She stomps her feet lightly on the ground, groaning. âThis is too difficult,â she complains, leaning her head on Joonhwiâs shoulder.Â
Really, really hard.
Itâs funny how Sol can say something one minute and then completely contradict it by the next. She says she doesnât need him there, but clings onto him like her life depended on it. Not that Joonhwi was complaining â but he does want to have a little fun with her. He wanted to stir her a bit with something like, I thought you didnât need me here? He knows she hates being called out for snappy remarks that she only ever means as a joke.
But a quick glance at Sol, in her favorite pajamas and one of Joonhwiâs sweaters, on the very rare occasions she has her hair down, bangs falling on her eyes, Joonhwi decided against it. Her vulnerability shouldnât be treated with ridicule; it should be met with an equal amount of softness. After all, no one else but Joonhwi gets to see Sol like this â he finds that as a privilege which shouldnât be taken for granted.Â
âOkay.â He gives in. âLet me have a look.â
Joonhwi holds his palm out to ask for the reading material, which, as usual, Sol rejects. âDidnât we already talk about this?â
He feigns innocence. âTalk about what?â
Her head feels heavy on his shoulder. âI need to be able to stand on my own if Iâm going to survive law school hell,â she reminds him. âYou canât keep coming to my rescue for every little inconvenience.âÂ
âSo this is just a minor setback?â Joonhwi teases. He couldnât help it.Â
âNo,â Sol cries, âitâs a major obstacle.âÂ
She snuggles up against him, and Joonhwi could literally feel the heat rising to his face. Nonetheless, he lightly holds the side of her head for support and asks, âSo what? Are you just going to give up?âÂ
âOf course not,â she mumbles, her breath hot on his neck. Joonhwi knows the law well, but he feels like this should be illegal.Â
âBut sometimes I wish I was just naturally smart like you.â
He lets out a soft sigh. Like many other things, the pair have talked about this before, and Joonhwi has never denied that he and many others have had a significant head start over Sol. But this is what heâd always tell her:Â
âIf everyone in this school had half as much of your wit, every crime in the world would have been solved by now.âÂ
To which sheâd grimace and respond with, âYeah, tell that to the F I got in Criminal Code.âÂ
But tonight was different. Sol wasnât coming from a place of defeat, she was saying this out of frustration. She was probably thinking that maybe, had her life choices been different, she would have had it easier. That maybe, had she been as lucky in wealth and opportunities as everyone else, she wouldnât need to work twice as hard as them. So that maybe, like Joonhwi, she could just comfortably sit in silence with him and enjoy his company.Â
Right now, heâs treading murky waters and heâs afraid that one wrong move could give Sol the wrong idea. Joonhwi has never been the type to open up to people, but she never made it difficult for him to do so. With Sol, honesty was just the default. Telling her things heâd never entrust with anyone else came as easy as breathing.Â
He takes her hand and gingerly intertwines it with his own. âI didnât have it easy at the beginning either,â he admits. âLaw school wasnât even a part of my plan, and yet here I am.âÂ
This is at least one thing he knows Sol could empathize with. After being betrayed by the last person heâd ever expect to hurt him, Joonhwiâs life took a turn. To an extent, he was motivated by rage. But mostly, he was just trying to find a way to turn that pain into something useful, trying to make sure no one else has to go through what he did. And call him foolish for being too hopeful or optimistic, but he believes this is something he and Sol can do for each other. Theyâre two sides of the same coin: the law owes Sol an apology, and Joonhwi is coming to terms with the fact that he might never get one, ultimately being robbed of the opportunity after his uncleâs untimely death.Â
Joonhwi knows his words bear significant weight to Sol. Thereâs a lot of things he wants to say to her but right now he just settles with, âI think youâre smart enough. If anything, you need to stop going overboard. What if you get sick again?â
She lifts her head and stares at him with doe eyes.
âThatâs why Iâm here.â He raises their interlocked fingers to show to her. âWhy do you think Iâm holding your hand? Itâs so I can pull you out from under when youâre drowning in all of this.â
Sol slowly breaks out into an endearing smile, trying to repress her laughter but failing. âHeol. Han Joonhwi, since when were you so sentimental?â
Joonhwi doesnât know where this newfound bravery came from, but he kisses Sol on the forehead lightly. âSince you needed it.âÂ
Sol blinks, her expression unreadable, and Joonhwi fears that he may have done the wrong thing. But much to his disbelief, she instead grabs him by the collar and closes the gap between her lips and his. They crash against one another in perfect rhythm, and Joonhwi mentally slaps himself for not doing this sooner. Never has he felt more at peace than at this very moment, which was ironic considering he was supposed to be the one doing the comforting. And yet, the lines blur when he realizes that even when their methods are vastly different, theyâre at their best when theyâre in tune with each otherâs needs.
And right now, this is what he needs the most.
Much to Joonhwiâs dismay, Sol finally pulls away; theyâre both out of breath.Â
Still in a daze, he musters up the courage to ask such a stupid question. In fact, heâs surprised he could even speak at all. âWhat was that for?âÂ
âYouâre not the only sentimental one here. If youâre going to kiss me, do it right.âÂ
That was when I knew, you were worlds more, than just a first kiss.
~
Send me your thoughts here!
#jtbc law school#law school#kang sol a#han joon hwi#solhwi#kim bum#ryu hye young#kang sol a x han joon hwi#fics#jtbc#kdrama#korean drama#mine#otp: why couldn't you be here sooner
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Jumin Hanâs Bad End 2 DLC - Notes / Opinion
Yâall know me. I have to take notes for everything I play or read or watch. I canât help it. Here we have Jumin Hanâs Bad End 2 DLC. The infamous bad end. The red shoes bad end. The âkinkyâ bad end, to some. Not my favorite bad end, but a memorable one. With that said, letâs dive in! Spoilers ahead!
Episode 1
This DLC has multiple endings! Interesting. Depending on how I answer will determine which end I get. This has me thinking there may be a way to get Jumin back onto a healthier relationship track? I will eventually aim to achieve both endings, though.
Juminâs hand is fucking HUGE. MASSIVE. WHAT ARE THEY FEEDING HIM? Please hold while I scream at Kristan (jalaqueeno) about this. Holy shit.
Itâs been one month since Jumin went to work. One whole month! Mr. Jumin Workaholic Han hasnât gone to work in ONE MONTH! This man has made it his sole mission to keep you locked up & stay with you. Dude, like⌠why are you so obsessed with me~?
MANSION? Theyâre not in the penthouse anymore? I mean⌠there are worse cages to be kept in.
I am absolutely playing the answers that subtly suggest I am not ok with this new forced live-in situation.
HEâS TRACKING HOW MANY STEPS IâVE TAKEN. Wait until this man finds out I hate walking the mileâŚ
Jumin continues to call this a game. Says he has a therapist on standby. Does he know that HE can use the therapist? In fact, I highly recommend it.
He says you can leave at any time. Color me suspicious. I donât believe him for one second. How far is this âgameâ going?
MY PRECIOUS BABY DARLING SWEETIE PIE TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD WHOLESOME BEAUTY PERFECT CUPCAKE ELIZABETH 3RD HAS ARRIVED!
According to Jaehee, MC has been with Jumin for two months now.
Interesting how Jaehee makes a point to mention the mansion being untouched as this is where Jumin keeps his childhood toys. He brought you where he keeps his toys. Does he really see all of this as a game & youâre a toy? Can he snap out of it if you call for the game to end, or will there be backlash?
Some of these answer choices feel tricky. Iâm trying to gently weasel my way out of this âgameâ without hurting anyone.
âDonât say that to my master.â Listen, Jumin is my favorite man in this game, but that answer option physically made me cringe. Me? Call a man master? I could never. Not me. Not this bitch.
Wow. Ok. All this stuff with Juminâs mom is moving fast. I can already see if he actually does lose her, it may make him hold onto MC that much more/harder. Maybe.Â
Woah woah woah. I know Jumin is acting a little suspicious & out of sorts, BUT AINâT NO ONE MARRYING HIM EXCEPT ME. ALL RIGHT? Iâll fight. I know where to get a bombâŚ
Excuse me? A fitness trainer? Yeah........ about that. Iâm going to have to leave. Sorry this situation didnât work out between us Juju. Best of luck, though!
Episode 2
My room is kind of cute! Wait, why the fuck arenât Jumin & I sharing a room? If Iâm locked up & tracked, you better believe Iâm sleeping next to that dick.
Send a message to space? The fuck?
Oh. Duh.
âI heard that obsession comes from anxiety.â DING DING DING DING.
Omg Seven. You canât just ask me to open my box. Iâm seeing another man...
LONG HAIRED JUMIN?????
Jumin really didnât have one woman in his life who wasnât cold or weird to him. I know we already knew from his route he had a difficult upbringing. But I hadnât expected them to dive into that aspect for this DLC but I can see how thereâs the connection.
I told him I wanted to be alone to see if heâd respect boundaries.
OH SHIT THAT CHAPTER ENDED SO QUICK. DID I FUCK UP?!
Episode 3
So are we meant to see this adult Jumin, playing this âgameâ with MC, as him regressing within himself & falling back to enjoying fantasy? Avoiding reality? Something he didnât allow himself to do as an actual child? He didnât understand why people indulge in magic, fantasy, make-believe as a kid. Now heâs vastly overshot the mark to the point that this fantasy life with MC has become his âreality.â
DO NOT GIVE THIS BABY BOY WINE, I SWEAR TO GOD.
Omg. Little Jumin is so cute. I will fight everyone to protect him.
This woman done fucked up. Look at this child, youâve given him anxiety. He doesnât know if you want him to be mechanical or a normal kid. Jesus. All this Work Work Work No Emotion Work Only No Feelings bullshit is her fault. Juminâs only doing what he was taught. He was told this is all heâs good for, all he was meant for.
âI feel like I am a tool. Sometimes I want to be treated like a son.â STOP. IF THIS GAME MAKES ME CRY. IâM GONNA FIGHT SOMEONE.
IF YâALL DONâT GIVE THIS LITTLE BOY THE LOVE & AFFECTION & CARE HE DESERVES
Jumin is obsessed with grape juice. Grows up to be obsessed with wine. Yâall made him an alcoholic.
âI am not like her. I will not be cold. I will be warm to my familyâŚâ JUMIIIIIN. THIS LITTLE BOY IS TRYING SO HARD! IT IS POSSIBLE JUMIN! AIM FOR YOUR GOOD & NORMAL ENDINGS!
SLEEPY JUMIN HAN CG
OH FUCK
OH FUCK ME
OH HELLO HUSBAND GODDAMN YOU LOOKINâ CUTE AS FUCK
LET ME HOLD YOU JUMIN. YOU DESERVE TO BE LOVED & HELD & CARED FOR!
I think you have to choose the answers that gently pry you away from Jumin? He canât force this relationship. It canât be controlled by him. It isnât a game. He needs to come to that realization, but heâs really not making that connection...
âI have never been involved in a deal outside a form of give-and-take.â Oh, that hurt. He doesnât trust you to stay with him unless he can offer you something? His money/extravagance/keeping you in this âgameâ you started with him & him playing into it is what he has to do to keep you with him.
âPlease show me that you love me. I want to know what love is.â Insert Explicit MC x Jumin Fanfic Here. Iâll show you, Jumin. Iâll show you all night long.
*Jumin snuggled closer* In my own personal canon, that means we FUCKED. SLOWLY. GENTLY. ROMANTICALLY.
Episode 4
The creepy lullaby music started up. Shit is about to go down.
Omg is this butler going to lock me in the basement?
Lmao did I fuck up with the âwhatâs a cage doing here?â reply? How was I supposed to know there wasnât actually a cage there? No Jumin, I donât want a cage. âŚ. at least not for me, but we can discuss that later.
SHE WOULD LOCK HIM IN THE BASEMENT? Thatâs it. Iâm fighting everyone. Stay behind me Jumin, Iâll protect you.
âLet me talk to her! Iâd like a word with her!â LET ME AT HER, JUMIN. I HAVE SOME SHIT TO SAY. SHEâS DYING. I HAVE A SHORT WINDOW. LET ME AT HER.
Not little boy Jumin Shawshank Redemptioning his way out of the basement omggggg
JUMIN YOU WANNA FUCK? NOW? This man is sending me through whirlwind of emotions.
OH SHIT. Iâm torn between the âwhisper in his earâ option or the âletâs change our roles for just todayâ because as yâall may know, I enjoy being in charge.
Me: âLetâs change our rolesâŚâ Jumin: âUhhh maybe we should leave.â Darling, you know youâre a submissive. Itâs ok. No judgement.
FADE TO BLAAAAACK. THEY FUCKINâ.
IâM HOOTINâ & HOLLERING. After the fade the black I said I would stay in my own clothes & Jumin says, âTheyâre dirtier than you would think.â DID THIS MAN JUST CUM EVERYWHERE? LMAAAOOOO
Happy End!
Ayyy we did it, lads! Unlocked the happy ending first. Even though we already gave Jumin a happy ending in that basement, you know what Iâm sayinâ~
LMFAOOOOO JUMIN STILL CANâT DRIVE LMFAOOOO
Wait, turned our backs on everything? How the fuck is this the happy end? Happy for who? Jumin?
So⌠what the fuck was that?
The good ending just reenforces this âonly usâ narrative? The good ending is that this âgameâ Jumin & MC are playing doesnât end? Nothing resolves. He doesnât mend any relationships. Thereâs no healing or moving on. He exerts more of his control on MC & takes more drastic measures to ensure theyâre together.
WAIT. DID WE JUST FUCKING ABANDON ELIZABETH 3RD TOO? ABSOLUTELY NOT. THIS ENDING SUCKS. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? FUCK THAT. PISS OFF, JUMIN HAN. I WONâT HAVE THAT BULLSHIT. YOU DID NOT JUST TURN INTO A PET ABANDONER RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FUCKING FACE. I HATE IT. NO. IâM OUT.
The CG was hot, though. Jumin in black on black on black? AND GLOVES?! Hell yeah. Thatâs a whole meal right there. Delicious.Â
Episode 1 (Attempt 2)
Well, time to try to get the bad end (????) now I guess. Maybe the bad end is that this game of theirâs actually does break. Thatâs what Iâm hoping for at least.
Jumin already making jokes about switching roles. Jumin, my love. I am more than happy - extremely willing & eager actually - to be in charge here.
Pretending to want all of this âbeing a possessionâ nonsense is making me uncomfyyyy.
Episode 2 (Attempt 2)
âDo something Jumin wouldnât likeâ Lmaooo it calls Zen. HAHAHAHAHA
I think Zenâs voice acting is some of the most expressive, in this whole game.
Ah, so then I guess turning on the computer letâs you talk to Yoosung.
Not Jumin deliberately cutting my call. The audacity.
Jumin, possessiveness can sometimes be cute. But in this case, Iâm not having it. Not interested.
All the toys in the world didnât keep Jumin entertained. BUT THIS PUSSY DOES.
Episode 3 (Attempt 2)
Flew through that one just choosing the options I didnât choose before. Didnât seem to glean any new information except the fact that Jumin no longer has a desire to form a family, says it entirely depends on how badly MC wants a family. Continues that narrative of, if MC wants it, he will provide it... to keep her.
Episode 4 (Attempt 2)
So weâre just going to leave gold bars in that safe?
Happy End Again????
It says I got Happy End again, even though I chose entirely different answers & went along with being Juminâs possession...
OH WAIT, IT IS DIFFERENT!
I canât believe my first meeting with Juminâs mother is after he rawed me in the basement & had me put on a fantasy fairy tale princess dress to make our escape. Omfg. Maâam, your sonâs cum is still dripping out of me, please give me a few minutes to freshen up first. Goddamn.
Juminâs mom is named Carolyn!
I canât believe Iâm in the middle of a family argument while Juminâs cum glues my thighs together.
She ainât sick. Sheâs lying. Iâm calling it.
âSimple - make him softâ Jumin: âLike mashed potato?â LIKE MASHED POTATO? FIRST OF ALL, JUMIN SAYING âMASHED POTATOâ IS SO FUCKING CUTE I WANNA SCREAM. Secondly I meant, make him soft as in help him let down some barriers & let people in.
âI heard sons are psychologically bound to be attracted to women reminiscent of their mothers.â Ok yes, that may be true but you donât have to remind me. Bleh. Stop.
âIf my consort is to leave me one day, I will be scarred for the rest of my life.â I am sad for him. So sad.
ONE BILLION, TO BREAK UP WITH JUMIN? WOMAN, YOU ARE SOMETHING ELSE.
The âmind if I touch itâ option fucking sent me. Iâm laughing so hard. It is 1am. I might wake up my neighbor! I chose the â��..â option though. Iâm sticking with Jumin through this. Letâs see what happens.
⌠Iâll loop back & choose the money if I can though to see what chaos occurs.
âThis is exactly what people mean when they say, âSo not cool.ââ JUMIN. NOW IS NOT THE TIME LMFAOOOO
Jumin went back to work. All right, thatâs progress. He renovated the basement on a happier note. Ok ok, small progress.Â
âNow I wish to paint this entire place with our love.â TIME TO CHRISTEN EVERY ROOM WITH SEEEEX
THAT CG!!!!! AAAHHHHHHH!!!! WOW WOW WOW WOW WOW WOW WOW WOW!!!!!!
Looping back to choose more options for this episode...
CALLED JUMINâS MOM AN OLD HAG & JUMIN LIKED WHEN I DID THAT LMAOOOO. I would like to call her a lot of things.
Final thoughts:
Long story short (too late), this DLC reenforces that this is a Bad Ending path, in which you wonât find a fix for Jumin, wonât find a way to get him back on track to his true good end. And thatâs ok! This is a bad end after all! Though both endings are listed as âgoodâ or âhappyâ endings, theyâre still set in this twisted relationship, this weak form of love, Jumin believes is real. He calls it a game, says a therapist is on standby, says MC can leave any time she wants, yet when she chooses options that distances herself, suggests Jumin pay more attention to something other than her, or shows sheâd like more freedom, he immediately blocks that path in some way. Even when choosing all the options that donât give in to the plaything/being controlled role, the conclusion is Jumin reenforcing his control harder - you both escape together to be alone, neglecting everyone & everything in your life, & Jumin insists all he has to do is take care of you in various ways - to give you everything - to keep you with him. Even following the confrontation with Juminâs mother & turning down the option to leave Jumin for money, it shows how far Jumin will go to keep MC. He truly believes he has to provide everything (money, security, possessions, etc.) in exchange for her love, her company, her willingness to be with him. This man has slowly been broken over & over again over the course of his life & heâs finally given in to these poor teachings & selfish encouragements, & has convinced himself what heâs found is full love where he provides anything & everything to keep MCâs interest in him. A clear give & take relationship. A contract. A game. And heâs not about to let that go.
Personally, while this path isnât my favorite for Jumin, I was still absolutely impressed with the two different ways they had this particular Bad End play out. An emotional read from start to finish & back again.
#I flew through that so quick whew#Jumin Han#mm#mysme#mystic messenger#Jumin Han Bad End 2#Bad End 2#DLC#Bad End 2 DLC#spoilers#spoiler#mysme spoiler#mysme spoilers#After End#Jumin Han DLC#Route Notes#text post#long post#Meowle Mumbles
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Just Pretend (pt 2)
Oceanâs 8 fanfiction
Pt 1: x
For anon
Summary:Â you go out for drinks with Lou, and introduce her to your friends for the first time
Characters: Lou x fem!reader, your friends, a cameo by Daphne
Word Count: 1,520
Warnings: Steamy fluff?
You stood, staring at yourself in the mirror, chest heaving with excitement. You still had a couple hours until your official date but you didnât have the capacity to focus on anything other than spending time with your friends. And Lou.
âHey, airhead, you still with me?â Daphne asked from the big walk in closet. âIâve got a few things you could try on- I canât guarantee theyâll fit, but I asked Rose to send all kinds of pieces.â
Daphne, bless her, was helping you get ready. After your little incident at the loft, with everyone watching, she was right up there with wanting to get involved and help you. It was just in her nature.
âDonât you think itâs a little over the top, Daphne? I mean- itâs just a drink with some friends.â
âUh, just a drink? Do you even hear yourself? Y/N, youâre going on your first official date with Lou. You think you can just whip out some sweats and call it a day?â
She was right, Lou liked being over the top. Her fashion sense alone showed that.
âNow, try this stuff on.â She chucked a load of clothing articles at you and you caught them hastily. Youâd been wearing a thick, white bathrobe while waiting for Daphne to show you her collection and you'd been waiting for what seemed like hours.
You immediately flicked through some patterns you considered ghastly, despite Daphneâs tutting as you removed some of her choices.
After some negotiating and huffing between the two of you you came out wearing a turquoise floral dress; simple but alluring. The shade was just right to fit your skin tone and made you look even brighter than before.
Daphne gave a girlish squeal at the sight of you, a hand coming up to her mouth, almost tearing up.
âOh, Y/N, youâre so cute. Gosh,â she grinned. âYou look good.â
âThanks, Daph,â you muttered, blushing. âItâs not, you know, too much?â
âWhat? Of course not. Here.â
She handed you a pair of pale blue heels that matched the lighter shades in your dress. Red lipstick and a curled hairdo; you looked like something vintage met up with something daring. You felt powerful.
Daphne kept gushing over you as you hurried to finish up. A text flew by from Lou, saying she was there to pick you up.
ready? ;)
âAnd if that idiot blonde leaves you on the curb you know where to find me, honey,â Daphne winked at you. Your cheeks flamed but you still hugged and thanked her for all the work she did before rushing outside where Lou was waiting for you.
She was clad in classic leather pants, a black button down and deep purple velvet blazer. Heels, always. Jewelry, always. Your heart fluttered at the sight of her, but Lou could hardly believe how you looked.
âY/N? God, you look...â
She trailed off, looking you up and down and you giggled.Â
âItâs not a usual outfit for me, I know,â you shrugged a little, arms wrapping around your middle protectively. âDaphne helped me.â
âOf course she did, but... god, really. Y/N. Youâre stunning,â she pried your arms loose and her long fingers wrapped around yours. You felt giddy.
âWhere are we going?â she asked.
âThe bar just two blocks away. Itâs our go-to.â
âAnd you really want me to be- you know..â
âMy date? Duh.â
âNo, not just that, Y/N. Like...â
âLike, my actual girlfriend?â
Lou was nervous, you could tell. Youâd never seen her nervous before. She was all coy and suave with your friends and now she was jittery right before your eyes as she nodded to your question.
âOf course, Lou. I like you a ton, why else would I have agreed to do this?â
âTo please your nosy friends?â
âWell, yeah, that too.â
Lou looked unconvinced and you leaned forward to press a kiss against her lips. She melted instantly. When you pulled away she was back to smouldering eyes and her quirky smirk. Her hand gripped you tighter and you smiled happily. Now to face your friends.
-
Theyâd gawked when you came in; a couple fit for the cover of Vogue. You felt somewhat confident at their reactions, but also self conscious. This wasn't usually how you were with your closest friends if you just grabbed a beer on a Friday night. But this was with Lou, so it had to be special.
Your small group huddled around a high table with stools, so you could ease the pressure off of your feet.Â
They immediately interrogated Lou in a light, bantering way. Looking out for you, while also being captivated by the hot, captivating woman you got to call your girlfriend. She easily spewed the fake identity of a mechanic at them rather than a con who once robbed an entire gala with you by her side, which was easy enough to believe with her expert opinions on bikes and the sort.Â
âWell, Y/N, I must say we were all a bit worried when you were off to God knows where, but...â one of your friends commented. âWe now know where youâve been hanging out. Itâs nice to properly meet you, Lou.â
âLikewise,â Lou said, winking at you from the corner of her eye as she sipped her beer. You could feel yourself falling more and more in love with the woman by the second.
âIâm sorry for stealing her away from all your outings,â Lou continued. âSheâs just really been enjoying my... teachings in mechanics.âÂ
Your face burst into a flaming blush as she glanced over at you, the twinkle gone unnoticed by your friends who cackled at the joke.Â
âReally? Motor bikes, Y/N?â
You shrugged, playing along after a deliberately harsh pinch to Louâs thigh under the table as a retort for dragging you into her schemes and white lies.Â
âYeah, why not? Thereâs always new stuff to learn and experience. Bikes are cool.â
They prodded a bit more for updates between the two of you, and it all went  surprisingly swimmingly.  Lou had put a hand on your knee, warm and reassuring, sometime during the night as she got to know all your friends.Â
When it was considerably darker outside and the clock began ticking into the AM, you all said goodnight, promising to call, text, whatnot. Lou slung an arm over your shoulder and you leaned into her touch as you left the bar. Theyâd invited the two of you to go drink at a friendâs place, but you knew from the way Lou had been looking at you all evening that was the last thing you wanted to do.Â
The two of you hailed a cab back to the loft, Lou mentioning how next time you all spent time together sheâd drive you fashionably late on her motor bike, no matter how close it was. It warmed your heart, how easily she got on and enjoyed your friendsâ company. Whether she did it for you or she actually wanted to didnât matter. Point is, she did anyways.Â
In the car Lou snuggled into you, hot breath in your ear and you giggled. The cab driver seemed to disapprove but one glare from Lou at him made him quiet. You made sure to tip him extra.Â
When you entered the loft, Lou held your hand and spun you around, making you slide along the floor on your smooth heels.Â
âMy beauty,â she grinned. âThe mechanic enthusiast.â
You laughed as you pulled her closer. âThe only mechanic Iâm enthusiastic about is you.â
Lou lowered her hands to your waist and the two of you swayed to a non-existent waltz, the dimmed lights of the loft making for a vastly romantic spectacle.Â
You both looked at each other with utter adoration and all your initial stress and butterflies from when she kissed you, met your friends and went out with you had disappeared.Â
âYou know, this is about the same spot where I kissed you the first time,â Lou mused with a flick of her locks over one shoulder. You surveyed the loft around you; abandoned but never lonely.Â
âHm, I suppose youâre right. Isnât it terrible it was only the one time, though?â you teased, your hands trailing up from Louâs shoulders to her neck.Â
âQuite,â she said, feigning poshness. âMaybe we should rectify that error.â
âBy all means,â you murmured.Â
Her lips pressed against yours like a lock and key and you curled your arms around her neck to hold her closer. Her hands trailed down your back, over your  ass and down your thighs to tease at the hem of your dress before tapping your hip.
Taking the cue, you hopped up in Louâs arms, who held you firmly and securely. You were amazed by her strength but didnât relent as you leaned down and continued to kiss her lovingly.Â
Lou probably had some intention of bringing you upstairs to the bedroom but your incessant kisses on her face proved too much for her.Â
You barely even made it to the couch that night. Oh well.
A/N: Here ya go folks. I wrote this during a much-needed break during all my real-life commitments and deadlines (ugh) Let me know what you think, Iâll hopefully be opening up requests again soon so any other Lou-centric ideas you wanna throw my way Iâm more than happy to take on ;)
#lou miller#lou x reader#lou x you#lou miller x reader#oceans 8#oceans8#wlw#lgbt#lgbtqia#cate blanchett#merry writes
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Nightowls
Having someone be aware of a secret isnât always a bad thing. It can sometimes be a relief even, the knowledge that someone else knows. That youâre not on your own anymore. That thereâs someone to talk to.Â
Chapter 09 - You Seem Happy, 2477 words
The walk back to the Monastery was pleasant that morning, even though they were a little later getting away from the studio than Cole would have personally liked. A full conversation with Chamille when the studio announced it was time to clear out for closing about actually organising a day to meet up with the other elemental masters; because there really didn't need to be a world ending disaster as an excuse to be in the same place at once. Then Lloyd and her had gotten to talking whilst Cole had excused himself to clean off in the bathroom; well that resulted in them leaving as the sun was cresting over the horizon line, more than an hour behind when he usually left.Â
Lloyd could really talk sometimes.Â
Yet it had been a relaxed silence since they'd set off. Cole was in a clean set of clothes, with a hoodie over the top to keep the morning chill away. The grass that sprung up at the side of the path was dusted with a light frost and a thin mist hung low over the lands.Â
He took in a deep breath, enjoying the cool sensation that was brought with it.Â
Then Lloyd turned to him, poised as if he was about to break the silence that had settled, which he promptly did, "So, that was fun." He grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets which didn't hinder the bounce in his step. "I mean, dancing is one thing, but you and Chamille not even having a plan?"
"Free-styling." Cole provided casually.Â
"Free-styling. And a random song too, it was brutal giving you opera music, I mean, how do you even dance to that? Then you and Chamille were just like," Lloyd made a half-attempt at doing the robot, with an elaborated, "Woosh!"Â
"And then, then Chamille was all like," An arm wave, a pretty good one if Cole's eyebrows shooting up was anything to go by. Though he just carried on watching the scene with a small smile, and the fact that Lloyd was basically dancing down the single dirt road that led back to the Monastery. It was a long trip, but he had a feeling it would go fast.Â
"And then you were--"Â
"Lloyd," Cole interrupted quickly, placing a hand onto his shoulder, "You haven't slept all night, you're getting your second wind. Take a breath."
Lloyd paused and did as he was told, though he was still smiling far too much for that hour of the morning.Â
"You were so cool!"Â
He'd said that multiple times already, and Cole was starting to believe it.Â
"You can't tell anyone." He added after a short second and maybe half a block down the path.Â
Lloyd kicked a pebble in his way, before nodding his understanding. He brushed some hair back from his face, "I know, I know. You said so earlier."
Even then, with that vein of conversation at a resolute end, Lloyd still looked like he had something to say. Cole tilted his head, "What?"Â
"I'm not shocked you got into Marty's."
That was a bit off track, Cole rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.Â
"Yeah, well--"Â
"You've been sneaking out for a while, haven't you?"Â
There it was, the supposed crux of the conversation. Abrupt, but sort of expected if he was being honest. If he took into account the clear worry that everyone had expressed, it was obvious that this talk was going to turn into an insightful one-to-one.Â
There wasn't much point in lying anymore, so Cole simply nodded, "a couple months."
He didn't miss Lloyd's wince, "Have you even been sleeping?"Â
"Big talk coming from the guy who knows I've been sneaking out, staying up and spying?"Â
Lloyd's eyes widened, then he schooled his expression and fixed his gaze on the path ahead. They'd get to a woodland soon, and then the base of a far too long staircase, then home.Â
"Don't try and change the subject, Cole."
There was a nervous laugh, and he was more than content to let everything go back to silence again. Just the sound of crunching gravel beneath their feet and the intermittent noise of bones popping as Cole went through his joints to help release any pressure, but eventually the evasion tactic wore out, and he relented. "It started because I wasn't sleeping." He explained losely, "Or like, when I went to sleep all I had was nightmares."Â
There, he'd said it.Â
Lloyd seemed to falter in his walk, almost drawing to a full stop as he watched and listened with far too much maturity for someone his age, and too much focus for someone who was wide awake at near six in the morning.Â
He was going to crash so hard around lunch time, Cole could tell a mile off.Â
Yet this time, the silence was a physical feeling. Cole had finished making his point, it wasn't in depth, but it was there. Yet Lloyd's staring just brought more words to the surface, "Of, you know, when I fell from the Bounty."
There's a pregnant pause, and Cole cleared a lump from his throat.Â
"It's all I could think about and I would just wake up panicking--"Â
"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Lloyd questioned, with concern lacing his voice.Â
Cole just brushed it off, but the worry was warranted. If it was anyone of his family in the same situation he was in, he'd be worried for them too. Maybe that was a testament to what they were actually feeling in that moment. He would feel hurt if someone kept something like this from him, since Cole knew he could help in some way. "A walk fixed it, I didn't want to annoy anyone."
"Cole, it's not annoying if you need help. We're all here to help you with whatever problems you have. That's what family's for."Â
Cole shrugged, smiled, then focused his attention on some of the neon orange paint stuck under his nails. He picked at that, stared at it.
"I know that." he whispered. Of course he knew that, he knew that he could have turned to anyone and asked for help, or just someone to talk to and have them listen. Even Jay would have taken the situation seriously, he wasn't always so immature. Cole had to give him some credit. "I just⌠Found something that made me forget about my problems. At Nightowls, I have, like, a life." He paused, considering how that sounded, "Not that I don't have one at the Monastery, with you guys, but--"Â
"It's something normal." Lloyd said. Hit the nail on the head.Â
Yes.
Cole laughed, and nodded, "Yeah. I've never had that. My dad's a famous singer, I was expected to follow in his footsteps in some way, I went to Marty's and then I ran away, then I became a Ninja." his life, summed up. In a way, everyone's lives paralleled that in some way. Particularly the one he was talking to in that moment.
Feeling as though they had to follow in their father's footsteps only to realise that they had their own lives to live, even if it was vastly different from what had been envisioned for them.Â
"You were really good, though."
Cole laughs.Â
"You were, though. You seemed so⌠Relaxed."
Cole draped one arm over Lloyd's shoulder and pulled him into a sideways hug, which dissolved into him ruffling the younger ninja's hair to within an inch of its life. "Do I not normally look relaxed?"Â
"No," Lloyd managed out in the midst of batting at Cole's hand and arm until he was released, at which point he moved over to the safety of the other side of the path. Not that Cole couldn't reach him from where he was situated, "recently you've looked tired." He sighed, then his voice dipped in volume, and he just sounded that bit more worried, "We've all noticed, you know? We knew something was bothering you." Lloyd admitted slowly, then "We just⌠Wanted to wait for you to bring it up."
At that point, Cole realised that him bringing the issue up would have probably never happened by his own choice. He'd planned to, that first night. Then he just hadn't.Â
They eventually made it into the woodland, sunlight moving through the gaps in the canopy crafted by crown shyness, leaves dusting the road.Â
"How're the nightmares now?" Lloyd's voice was loud amongst silence.Â
Cole ran a hand through his hair, "Honestly, better." He admitted, then paused, "Actually, I haven't had one recently, I didn't realise that."
Lloyd smiled, "Because you've been distracted by sneaking away and having fun."
"I mean, yeah, technically I have." He smiled, "I've been spending days training and nights dancing, truly I am living a double life."Â
They both shared a laugh.Â
"I mean, you're basically a dance vigilante with that mask."
Cole gave Lloyd a deadpan expression, "Never say those words together again."
Lloyd smirked, "Ninja by day,"Â
"Lloyd--"Â
"Dancer by night."
"I swear to the First--"Â
Lloyd quickly moved forwards and plucked Cole's mask from his belt, then pulled it on himself. There was a bit of adjusting, and the elastic was a little too large, but he got it comfortably sat on his nose at least.Â
In the light of day, it was a funny sight. Lloyd, entirely dressed in green with a bright orange mask on that was definitely not as impressive as it was in the dark.Â
"This is uncomfortable." He said after a moment.Â
Cole just nodded, "It hurts the ears."
Lloyd took it off and stared at it, "It hurts the nose too. I don't know how you wear this and dance, you could have put some cushioning in it."
"I don't notice it when I'm dancing."
"A dragon would have been cooler, and it would have made sense."
Cole took the mask out of Lloyd's hands and held it to his chest, "Wow, I know when my talents aren't appreciated." He smirked, "Besides, it's sort of a joke. Deception, no one knows who I am underneath--"Â
"And no one knows what you do when you sneak out."
He just blanked that quip, "And wearing the face of a species that was nearly responsible for my death is sorta cathartic. I wear it and I have fun."
"You looked like you were loving it."
Cole grinned, "Yeah. I never thought I'd dance again, to be honest. Not like that."
They finally reached the stairs up to the Monastery and the sun was a lot higher than he would have liked. If it was early, they could sneak in and everyone would be none the wiser. Any time after six was when their absence would be noticed.Â
So reaching the top of the stairs would end in an interrogation and questioning, most likely. Cole hoped not.Â
Lloyd started on the stairs first, but as far as Cole was concerned they were always the worst part of the night. It was easier to go down them.
"So, planning on sneaking out again tonight?" the younger ninja asked as they began the climb.Â
"I don't know, maybe?" He'd probably give it a rest for a day or so. His sleep was nowhere close to being fixed, but he knew that if he managed to stay awake for the rest of the day, there was no way he could pull another all-nighter. He did it once, and regretted his decision immensely.Â
Also, he knew what Lloyd was actually asking about, "To be honest, I'll probably sleep tonight and go tomorrow. Why, you want to tag along again?"Â
The silence that followed was an answer in itself, and Cole just laughed, "You're sleeping tonight too. If Sensei Wu doesn't have my neck for you being up most of the night, then I know Kai will."
"Why would they blame you?"Â
"Because I'm the one in charge." Cole spread his heads as if it was obvious.Â
"And it's not like they would know I've been awake all night."
"You're starting to look like you've been dragged through the Boiling Sea backwards and then faced off against Sensei Wu's chicken. You look tired."
"TouchĂŠ."
As they neared the top of the stairs, Cole began fiddling with the mask of the strap. He had all his old clothes in a bag over his shoulder but it was already pretty full to begin with, and he didn't have the heart to try and push the mask in too.Â
Which left him resorting to holding it subtly behind his back, using the bagginess of the back of his hoodie to shield it from view as they stepped through the gates and into the monastery.Â
Into the middle of morning training. They were so going to get found out, Cole was so going to get busted for what he'd been doing. Lloyd was going to slip up, it was obvious.Â
Even as Kai walked over, sword sheathed over his back and spiked hair drooping from exertion, his cut eyebrow was raised and his gaze far too analytical.Â
He had been doing so well, too. He could already feel his heart rate picking up, but externally he forced himself to keep his cool, "Hey, sorry weâre late."
"You guys didn't even leave a note.â Was the immediate response, and it was tense, âIt's one thing Cole not being here and not telling us, but both of you?" Kai questioned, and the speed of which his hands were moving was an indication of emotion that he was trying to keep in check.Â
Cole winced lightly, "Yeah, sorry. I didn't think, my bad. We were just--"Â
Lloyd quickly stepped forwards and gave a slight smile, which seemed to quickly sway Kai's mood in a second. Big brother instincts, they could dial back just as fast as they surfaced.Â
"We just went on a walk, spoke a little." He looked back at Cole and grinned. "I should have written a note but I didn't. We sort of⌠Just needed to get out for a bit."Â
He was covering, Cole realised. He'd probably been thinking of an excuse for the whole walk. Something he'd forgotten to even do.Â
He had to force himself to not look impressed as the words rolled easily from Lloyd's lips. Even he believed them, and he knew the truth.Â
Kai seemed to cool down, and looked at Cole, "Are you okay?"
He let out a breath, and nodded, "I am now. The walk was good. I'm all good."
"Good." Kai nodded, then added, "You know we're all here to talk to if you need it."
Cole just gave a light laugh and nodded, carefully keeping the mask situated behind his back, "Yeah. Yeah, I know. Thanks, you guys. That means a load."
He looked at Lloyd.Â
"Thank you."
-
From the beginning
Ch 08 > Ch 09
AO3
Notes: And thus concludes Nightowls, thank you so much for reading!
#Nightowls AU#Nightowls#cole#cole brookstone#cole ninjago#lloyd#lloyd garmadon#lloyd ninjago#kai#kai smith#kai ninjago#ninjago#lego ninjago#lego#mcfanely writes#mcfanely aus#mcfanely draws#mcfanely#dancing cole
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The anon tries to listen to POC, but often there's an extreme distance between how their Asian colleagues interpret a piece of media and how it's interpreted by American diasporas. For example, Asian friends interpreted the anarchist themes of Joker and praised the film, while the American fans focused on the fandom grown around the character and the "white characters get away with murder, Black characters don't get away with shouting" epidemic in American fandom and hated the idea of it. (1/2)
Anon observed similar situation with Shadow and Bone fans - Asian fans disliked how the racism subplot was executed, while American fans loved how the canonical couple is between two Asians (both actors are mixed & none of them is American, but fans neveral talk about the nuances). The anon's Russian self can't help but laugh at the Russianess being little more than poorly applied decorations in the setting. Of course, they're generalising, but those are the trends they observed happening. (2/3)
So, there's this. In Russia, Japanese teachers teach students how to wear a kimono properly and how to perform a tea ceremony while many Japanese Americans hate the idea of foreigners doing it. In several Asian countries, Joker became the face of rebellion while many Asian Americans see him as face of far right. Shadow and Bone has many Asian American fans, but the series is seen as clumsy at best by many Asian and Russian viewers. What do you think takes priority? (3/4)
The anon cannot write reasonably short, for which they are sorry! They remembered an earlier discussion about how Captive Prince is anti-Black and arguments like "it's not chattel slavery and the characters are not Black" are sealioning. But the story is written by an Australian and rooted in Australian understanding of race (the author is of the same raciallized ethnic group as the protagonist). The anon, who knows USA realities only from social media and fanfics, is really worried. (4/4)
Okay, this is a lot and before saying anything, I think is fair for me to say that I am nothing but a white latino on the internet trying to navigate english speaking fandom so there's only so much I can even say at all because my own knowledge is limited. I try to educate myself whenever possible but there's stuff I still have yet to learn. Having said that, yes, discourse such as any of these are always going to be vastly different from one culture to another because any form of racism is always intrinsically tied to the culture of the place where it happens. This is not to say that there aren't universal forms of racism, like how darker skin is generally considered less attractive or desirable on many places (including LatinamĂŠrica), but a lot of it is related back to the history of each country and whatever relationship they have to any particular race. The issue you mentioned of cultural appropiation is a very american one because america reunites so many people from so many different cultures that want to be seen and respected like everyone else. Again, not to say that it's not an issue on other places, but the way the discourse is handled and talked about is very much an american because of the way America is at the center of so many discourses and also the history of America dealing with different cultures, which is to say, not good. Anti-asian racism is a very well and alive thing right now that has resulted on hate crimes against asian just trying to live their lives, promoted and kept alive by even people in power who don't care about what happens to them. Imagine how terrible it is to hear a ex-president of America blame you, your family, your country, everyone who just looks like you, because of a disease that is killing other people. Your culture gets mocked, you get told cruel jokes about the food you eat, about your broken english, get questioned about stuff you had nothing to do with... and the same people who do that, then turn around and are using that same culture they treated less for to make themselves look cooler and trendy? And that doesn't translate at all in you being treated any less shitty, it just means that any meaning your culture had before is reduced to pretty things for other people to use and then forget about the moment other pretty thing caughts their attentions. Wouldn't that make you feel like shit? When asian american or black american or native americans talk about cultural appropiation, it's not about just saying that you can't do this or that because they are meanies who don't want to share their fun pretty things. It's about asking people to please reflect in why it's only cool when others do it but they don't, in how it feels insulting to see things that have a cultural significance to you reduced to a gimmick like any other, on asking why their fun pretty things can't be enjoyed by them and get mocked, insulted and ignored when they tried to do so. Sometimes it also means literally taking away business from communities that needs them without any recognition or payment. I have no clue about the history of Russia with Japan specifically, but if it's a Japanese person the one chosing to share that element of their culture with other people who, I assume, respect it and want to learn about, then that sounds like cultural appreciation for me and it's not at all what anyone in America is talking about when they talk about appreciation. Using a kimono and serving tea on a traditional way is a neutral act that only gains significance because of environment where it happens. About everything else... it's complicated and I am 100% with you when you say that it's very difficult to navigate as a non american don't wanting to come across as insensitive or uneducated or a full blown ass without meaning to. Unfortunately for us, the online discourse is not especially gentle for anyone who doesn't know everything American related and all the intrincated race relations on a first moment. I know this is especially hard for asian fans when americans ones want to insert their own
intepretations into their works just to make it look worse. I get it, because people say "listen to POC" but that really doesn't tell you shit of WHAT to listen for and how to understand when different cultural perspectives clashes with each other, which is almost entirely inevitable because we all come with our own cultural baggage. And even between two black americans or two asian people from the same asian country you could have vastly different opinions about the exact same topic because of them prefer to concentrate on different aspects of it. I guess the best thing to do is... do try to know what people are saying. If these group of people are saying this show is this or that, try to come to understand why they say it. And if other group is saying otherwise, listen to why. Sometimes you don't need to interject at all, sometimes your own opinion is not really needed, but at least try to see where everyone is coming from and realize that everything is an ongoing conversation where nothing is set in stone forever, especially when you account for reclamation, parody and other things that influence the way we percieve anything. Ask questions if you are confused, because you are going to be confused a lot and I am sorry, but that is part of the process. Read books if you need to. Google a lot, but also talk with people, watch videos of people talking about it and, if you want to engage, do it with a mentality of wanting to learn and understand. I hope any of this can be helpful at all. If not, I am sorry. I am still trying to figure out things myself.
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The Mindâs Power Over the Body
Part 18: Unstoppable
Story summary: They only ever had each other. It had been that way since high school, ever since Elianna transferred to dreary Arlen and took Jonathan under her wing. They go separate ways for college, and when they're reunited at Arkham Asylum professionally, Elianna comes to find that they've both changed during their time separated. Can she look past the promise of danger and stay by Jonathan's side as they slide further and further into the darkness while she grapples to come to terms with the truth about herself? Can she accept what needs to be done in order to hold onto the only person who holds any meaning in her life? This is a very self-indulgent AU that draws from several different canons of the DCU and ignoring others, starting in the Batman Begins Nolanverse. This will follow the plot of the movie, although the timeline has been very slightly tweaked.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17
Word count: 2011
This chapter is really dumb and cheesy just a heads up đ I wanted to dabble in old school fanfic while I wrote this one I think. Idk, itâs kinda cute
El had come to hate the weekends. There was no substance to her days off now that she knew the thrills offered by the wretch of a city. Jonathan wouldn't let her run his underworld errands with him; an attempt to keep her safe from Falcone, he said. While she understood and appreciated the sentiment, the result was dreadfully long and slow weekends. They couldn't go to Arkham to supervise the project, lest they draw suspicion, and if Jonathan wouldn't take her with him to meetings, it left her with very little to do in the apartment.
Luckily, the day after her nightmare Jonathan had no reason to leave the apartment. On the other hand, he had spent his day worrying over her incessantly. Well, as much as Jonathan could "worry incessantly" in his own subdued way.
He had let her sleep in for hours, made her breakfast when she woke, and she was currently curled up on the couch next to him with the softest blanket from his linen closet. He had even let her pick the movie they were watching.
"Hey, Jonathan?"
"Mm?"
"Am I dying or something?" He looked across the couch at her, confused. "You're being really nice today. Are you still 'being me,' or am I dying?"
"Oh. Neither." He fell back into silence rather than offering the explanation that El was looking for. She waited patiently for a minute or two, giving him the opportunity to explain himself of his own volition before sitting up with a huff and pausing the TV, moving to sit next to him.
"What's going on? Is everything okay?" El watched as Jonathan set his jaw firmly, releasing a long slow breath, all the while staring inscrutably at the coffee table. By the time he finally looked at her, the anticipation had made her too anxious even to admire the hue of his eyes as she normally would.
"Last night, you..." he trailed off and let out another sigh before continuing, "it made me worry. I've been thinking all day, and I'm wondering if maybe you would be better off leaving Gotham now and going somewhere without me." Whatever she had been expecting, this wasn't it. Her brow furrowed, and she struggled to organize her thoughts enough to argue as he spoke again. "I know you, and I know that that wasn't normal, and it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't gotten you involved."
"So what?" she sputtered. "Jonathan, you got me involved, but if I didn't want to be still involved, I wouldn't be. Don't worry about me. You're not responsible for my decisions."
Her words did little to soothe him, and he leaned against the back of the couch with his head tilted all the way back to look at the ceiling. "No, I'm not, but this is clearly taking a toll on you. I just think it might be better if-"
"I understand what you're saying, but you're wrong," interrupted El. "If I were to leave now, I would just worry about you more. Without me, you're on your own here, and it's going to take a lot more than some stupid bad dream to make me abandon you. I know that you can handle all of this on your own, but as long as I'm here, I'm going to keep supporting you in whatever ways I can."
He was technically right, to an extent; it wasn't normal for a nightmare to break her like that. But the fact remained that it was only a dream, and the fact that it had immediately followed a dosing of fear toxin only served to solidify her point further. It would never have affected me like that if I hadn't insisted on a second toxin trial.
Jonathan mulled over what she said for what seemed like ages, to the point that Elianna wasn't even sure where his train of thought may have taken him. Regardless, she knew that he must have been trying to come up with some absurd reason why she should leave anyway. Deciding to let him think (and knowing that she would win this debate with this move), she pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders and lifted his arm to slot herself against his side.
He looked down at her as she settled his arm around her back, only to find her already looking up at him patiently with big green eyes. Shit. He could never argue with her when she looked at him like that, and she knew it. He did his best to steel his resolve, but then she blinked at him so sweetly that he had no choice.
"Fine," he sighed, finally looking away from her. "But no more toxin. From now on, you're just helping me supervise, understood?" He felt her nod fervently and wrap her arms tight around him. How did she always manage to get under his skin so well?
"I can't believe you thought you could get rid of me that easily," she scoffed. "I'm here to stay, love. I left you behind once, and I'm not going to do it again." Jonathan was amused by the childish notion behind her words but appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.
He was silently glad that she had pushed against him on this particular issue. While he still believed that she would be safer away from the city, he really didn't want her to leave. She was too...important. As proven by how easily she could get him to concede just by looking at me, for fuck's sake.
"You know I would never try to get rid of you." Jonathan still faced difficulty coming to terms with her effect on him, but this time he didn't have the energy to fight it. Deep down, he knew that he had let her win, selfishly wanting her to stay. Unwilling to resist, he let his cheek rest against the top of her head. "Sometimes I might think about it, but I'm not stupid." He felt her laugh.
"Understandable." She tilted her head back to look at him, and he lifted his head from hers to mirror her gaze. A soft smile spread over her face. "One of these days, I'm going to get you to admit outright that you love me." She said smugly, undeterred by his impassive expression.
He could tell by the look on her face that she had begun speaking absentmindedly, but Jonathan found himself more focused on the conversation in his head; naturally, Scarecrow had his own opinion on what El had said.
She's got a point. We should just get it over with now.
That isn't what she means.
Sure it is! See the way she looks at us? Come ooonnn, what's the harm? If it goes south, I'll just take care of it.
You absolutely will not.
I still don't see why we shouldn't get rid of her anyway. Loose ends, Jonny. If she's dead, she can't snitch.
She isn't going to. She would have done it already, and she's never told anyone about everything else we've done; why would she start now?
Yeah, and why do you think that is? Principle? Honesty? She likes us, Jonny. If you don't take care of it now, then I will.
With that, the straw man retreated to the back of Jonathan's mind in smug silence. The ambiguity of Scarecrow's ultimatum made him nervous, as he was unsure of what Scarecrow's version of "taking care of it" might be. But Jonathan knew ultimately that his alter was actually right this time. All of the jokes, the affection, the trust, and when she looked at him the way she had done just a minute before...
It was almost terrifying to think that the woman he had held so dear for so long might harbor feelings for him, and the true rush of the unknown exhilarated him. As strange as it would be, Jonathan knew what he wanted to do and resolved on the spot to act upon it before he could talk himself back out of it as he was wont to do.
"Not verbally, necessarily," she spoke up again, "but one of these days, you're going to do something, and I'll kno-"
The rest of El's sentence was cut short by something that could not have caught her more off guard, and while some part of her seemed to process it immediately (judging by how hard her heart was beating), it took a moment for her brain to catch up.
Jonathan had interrupted her by cupping the side of her face with his free hand and, in one fluid motion, had tilted her head back more and kissed her full on the mouth ever so softly. Her mind hadn't yet finished racing with unanswered questions when her internal monologue switched abruptly to, "oh, fuck it."
At that moment, she didn't need to understand anything. By way of response, she lifted her own hand to close lightly around his wrist, keeping his hand against her face and returned the tentative kiss with one of her own.
Both of their stomachs exploded into butterflies, but for vastly different reasons. Jonathan felt a rush of relief from the reciprocation and a flutter of nervousness caused by sudden instability for the future that it implied. In the same moment, Elianna found an emotional release and a thrill caused by the same unclear future, eager to build something new, powerful even.
Whatever her motivation, when El kissed him again, Jonathan was more than eager to return the action, and all of his apprehensiveness began to melt away. It was a rare moment of clarity for him, as he found himself truly in the moment. She had kissed him. Things that had been so important to him only minutes before were suddenly irrelevant, and when El pulled away and buried her face into his neck, holding him so tight, he was all too glad to squeeze her closer.
He thought that he had never been more determined to do anything as he was to keep her safe previously, but having finally given in to the impulse that he had been repressing since their teen years, Jonathan realized his previous resolve had been trivial. This, with all of its implicit devotion attached, changed everything so drastically. Nobody would ever hurt her again; not Zsasz, not Scarecrow, not anybody.
It was a good feeling, if a bit overwhelming. Following his new theme of letting himself enjoy the things he wanted, Jonathan allowed himself to feel at ease, content. He even cracked a smile when a small voice chimed, "I told you so," from somewhere near his collarbone.
"Yes, you did." He stroked back her hair and left a lingering kiss on top of her head, and felt her delighted smile split her face as she hugged him tighter (if that was even possible).
"Now you're really not getting rid of me. You know that, right?"
"I know. That's what I wanted." El hummed happily in response, breathing in the smell of his clothes. Being wrapped up against him like this felt...right. Like this was what their entire friendship had always been leading to, and now that it had been fulfilled, nothing could stop her.
Ever at the whim to her desires, and knowing that Jonathan couldn't be relied on to do the same, El straightened back up to stand on her knees and captured him in another kiss, deeper than before. With no protest, Jonathan locked his arms securely around her waist to keep her close and responded in kind.
Everything else forgotten, the new couple passed the day away in a world of their own making, testing the limits, and exploring new possibilities. Totally focused on each other, they both forgot everything about the killing of the city, the crimes they were committing together, the hells they had been put through, all of it wiped away; with every kiss, every gentle touch, every movement erased every atrocity, past and future. The new, stronger nature of their companionship made them unstoppable.
#the mind's power over the body#Attraction To The Insane#Jonathan Crane#scarecrow#Elianna Montgomery#jonathan crane x ofc#scarecrow x ofc#slight au#fanfiction#multi chapter fic#scarecrow fanfic#fic series#cillian murphy#cillian murphy scarecrow#tmpotb chapter 18
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the one with the terrible first date
Hi! So if you were wondering I was thinking of structuring the page like the stories with âthe one with...â being in chronological order. Obviously itâs totally fine to dip in & out whenever & to whichever story but Iâll refer back to events or things that happened in previous pieces. However, if you guys had specific requests whether theyâre about one of the âthe one with...â stories or just in general I was thinking of doing some blurbs or mini one shots potentially connected to one of the stories if you just dropped me a message of what you were thinking. I hope this makes sense!
Anyway, enjoy this disastrous first date :) xx
masterlist
word count: 2.8k
Ever since the party 10 days ago Harry and I had been in contact almost nonstop. Weâd only spent a matter of hours chatting that night, but I felt like Iâd managed to gain some sort of understanding of him as a person in that time; whilst I was kind of right about that, in the days weâd been texting and sharing the occasional phone call, I was starting to realise what a genuinely kind-hearted guy he really was.
Each call or initiating message from him always started asking about me: how I was, how my day had been, what I was going to be doing the next day. Somehow he also managed to shift the focus off himself to me, making me feel like not only did he really care about the answers to these queries, but that I was the centre of his attention.
Therefore, when one Tuesday evening (after a particularly boring day trawling through a couple of scripts sent to me by my agent) Harry asked if I wanted to âgo out sometime over the weekendâ I felt an eruption of butterflies in my tummy and a stupidly big grin take over my features.
âyeah, thatâd be cool :)â I replied, trying to vastly underplay the amount of âcoolâ it would be.
âgreat :Dâ He responded, âwhat are you doing saturday night? would you maybe wanna come round mine?â
âthat sounds like fun, do you want me to bring anything? we could have a movie night or somethingâ I texted back, already starting to feel slightly overcome with excitement as my hands felt a little sweaty as they tightly grasped my phone.
âyou let me worry about everything! send me your address and iâll pick you up at 6:30, just bring yourself and your beautiful face ;)â
                             --------
âWhat are you gonna wear, then?â Saoirse questioned, leaning back against my headboard with her legs crossed out in front of her. I stood with my hands clamped to my hips, nearly half my wardrobe strewn out across the floor as Iâd panicked earlier to find something to wear Saturday.
âWell, thatâs the million pound question, isnât it?â I huffed, pushing my hair out of my face as I inspected the various items of clothing cluttering up my bedroom carpet. âI donât actually know what weâre doing so how am I supposed to know what to wear!â
Saoirse let out a little laugh as she swung her legs off the bed, pushing herself away from the mattress to stand beside me. âOkay, no need to get stressy. Weâve got the rest of the evening and all of tomorrow if we need it so just calm down.â She soothed, gently placing her hands on my arms as she guided me to take a seat on the bed. âWhat about this?â She questioned, leaning down and retrieving an emerald green knitted jumper from the pile and holding it up to her chest. âYou could wear it with a skirt, or some trousers, jeans maybe. It would look really cute. Brings out your eyes.â Her words seemed to flow like a stream of conscious, her mind running away with her as she chucked it onto the bed beside me. I gathered it, holding it on my lap. It was my favourite jumper, but did it really shout first date?
âThose jeans are nice.â I spoke, leaning over the little rail at the end of my bed and pointing down to a blue pair of jeans. Saoirse glanced up at me, her eyebrows pulled together. âUm, no.â Was all she responded with.
                             --------
âRight, so youâre both going to the cinema and then having some food?â My aunt, Rose, confirmed, hands submerged in the sink as she washed up the dishes. I nodded tentatively. Iâd lived with her long enough for her to see straight through me and now exactly when I was lying; thus I hoped if I kept my speech to a bare minimum I may be able to get away with it. âAlright, well I hope you and Saoirse have a nice time, say hello to her for me.â Rose smiled, glancing at me before returning to her task. I released a silent breath before leaving the kitchen, going to the front door.
At 6:28 I wanted to be at the front of the drive to avoid anyone from the house seeing Harry picking me up. As far as they knew, Saoirse and I were having a friend date and thatâs all they needed to know.Â
âBye!â I shouted behind me as I pulled the door closed, zipped up my blue puffer jacket and ran down the two porch steps and stood at the end of the drive. With my hands stuffed in my pockets to protect me from the late winter chill, I tried to shield my face as best I could in the top of my jacket.Â
Iâd barely been standing there five minutes before a car slowed in front of me, the passenger window lowering and a head popping out over the passenger seat. I bent my knees a little to allow me to see inside the car.
âHiya! Sorry Iâm a little late. I think itâs the universeâs law that if youâre going somewhere for a certain time, every single red light has to hit you first.â Harry chuckled, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching for the handle of the driverâs door.
âItâs fine! Donât worry.â I giggled, reaching for the handle of the passenger door. âOnly like two-â
âWait!â Harry squawked, shooting out of the car at the speed of light and running round in time to gently bat my hand away from the handle. âThatâs my job.â He grinned, pulling open the door and gesturing with his hand for me to get in. I blushed a deep crimson. Fingers crossed he couldnât see as I nipped into the car.
âThank you.â I spoke shyly as he himself got back into the driverâs seat. He shot me a smirk as he started the car again.
âWhat kinda gentleman would I be if I let mâlady open a door for herself?â Harry joked, adopting a both accent as he drove away from the front of my house. The butterflies that had been dancing away inside my tummy since Tuesday suddenly became a frenzied explosion at his words; how on earth was I supposed to come with him saying things like this the rest of the night?
                             --------
Harryâs little apartment was warm an cozy - a needed escape from the frosty outside. It was small and quaint, but what more could you expect of a 17 year old, really?Â
âWelcome to my humble abode.â Harry spoke, flicking on the light to illuminate a modestly decorated studio flat. He closed the door, removing his coat as he gestured to take mine too.
âThank you.â I repeated in the same tone as before, shimmying out of my jacket.Â
âSo I made us dinner, and we can watch something afterwards if you still wanted to. But let me just put the food back in the oven to warm it up, yeah?â He smiled, his hand ghosting over the the bottom of my back as a way to guide me through the flat.
âIt already smells really nice in here.â I complimented, breathing in the aromas of the food heâd obviously prepared earlier.Â
âYe havenât tried it yet.â Harry jested with a little laugh. âBut thanks, itâs one of my mumâs recipes I think. She told me it would be a good thing to make for a first date.â He explained, placing two covered dishes into the oven and turning it on.Â
âCan I ask what it is, or is it a surprise?â I questioned, attempting to glance under the foil before the oven was promptly closed.
âOi, no itâs a surprise!â He interjected, quickly moving his body in front of the oven. There was only a matter of inches between our faces, causing (for the second but most certainly not the last time) a blush to sweep my cheeks. âRight letâs see what film we can start while we wait for that to heat up.â His voice was far softer than usual, his eyes momentarily darting between mine and my lips.Â
                            --------
I sat on his little sofa, flicking through the little booklet of DVDs he had stored.Â
âWhen In Rome?â I questioned with a little laugh. âWhatâs a guy like you doing with a film like that?â I teased, looking up at him as he stood in front of the telly, hands holding the remote.Â
âHeyyy,â Harry laughed, voice a little whiney. âI can be in touch with my feminine side, you know. I actually quite enjoy the odd RomCom.â He said, taking a seat next to me, his knee grazing the side of my jean covered leg.
âSorry.â I giggled, continuing to flick through the pages. âJust never put you down for someone like that.â I shrugged.
âOh? Then what kinda person did you put me down for then?â He smirked, leaning back into the sofa, his head propped in his hand as he elbow rested on the back of the cushion.Â
âI donât really know, maybe like every other teenage boy: too cool for this, and too busy with girls for that.â My words were intended as a joke, but there was a little part of me that perhaps thought there was some truth in it.
âNo, no, no, definitely not.â Harry shook his head and sending his curls in every which direction, sitting up straighter. âMy mother taught me to respect women, taught me to be kind to others and that youâre never too good for anything.â He said. A smile formed on my lips. He really was a true gentleman, wasnât he?
                            --------
âAnd then it just kinda went from there.â Harry summarised, sipping from the glass bottle of coke. âJust went on there as myself but I think itâs pretty cool Iâve come out in a band. Who knows, could be the next Beatles.â He laughed. âNah, we may get somewhere but nothing like them. Theyâre legends.âÂ
Before I could reply, my nose scrunched in displeasure at the new waft of smells assaulting my nostrils. âWhatâs tha-â The shrill beeping noise of the fire alarm cut me off.
âShit!â Harry shouted, leaping up from the sofa and dashing towards the oven. As he wrenched open the oven door, a pillow of smoke tumbled out, causing him to cover his mouth and nose with his elbow as he attempted to turn off any heat source making the situation worse. âShit, shit, shit, shit.â He chanted to himself, grabbing the oven gloves and pulling the two dishes out of the oven, placing them on the side and pulling of the foil covering. âWell that looks delicious.â He sarcastically observed, standing to the side as I walked up next to him. The food was entirely black, charred beyond belief.Â
âOh my god, Harry.â I pursed my lips together to prevent the laugh that was attempting to escape. âIâm sorry. I thought it was gonna be really nice.â I cleared my throat, wafting the air around with my hand.Â
âYou can laugh.â Harry spoke with a grin, bumping his hip into mine playfully. This seemed to unleash the giggles that had been hiding in my throat. âI just wanted to impress you.â He quietly whined. I slowly calmed down, holding out my arms in a offered hug. He pushed the oven gloves off his hands, walking towards me and wrapping his arms around my wait as mine encircled the back of his neck.
âYou donât need to try and impress me, Harry.â I spoke quietly, my lips near his ear. âI wanted to come on this date because I like you, not because I think youâre the next Jamie Oliver.âÂ
âWell I clearly showed thatâs not in the near future, didnât I!â He chuckled, his chest rumbling a little against mine.
âLetâs just order a pizza or something, yeah?â I offered, pulling away enough to see his face before he eagerly nodded.Â
âYou go sit down, Iâll get you another coke and Iâll order the pizza.â He smiled, quickly stealing a kiss from my cheek before he released me. âAnything in particular you want?âÂ
âHonestly anything, just not mushrooms.â I replied, turning around and taking my place on the sofa once more.
âNo mushrooms? Are you like 5?â He joked, shooting me a wink as he picked up the phone to order the replacement food. I just giggled, shaking my head at him.Â
He quickly ordered the pizza, going to the fridge and retrieving another bottle of coke. âHere ye go. Thanks for not freaking out about the food.â He smiled, getting a bottle opener to remove the top before walking in the direction of the sofa. What he hadnât foreseen was that, in his panic to get to the oven only moments before, heâd managed to move the edge of the carpet into a folded position.
âHar-â I began but before anything else could leave my lips his sock covered toes connected with the dislodged carpet. His eyes widened in shock as he tripped forward towards the sofa, his hands going out to protect his fall, the bottle of coke flying forwards and spilling all over me. I shot up from the sofa, gasping at the sudden event.
âOh my god! Oh my- Fuck, Y/N Iâm so so so so sorry!â He panicked, jumping to his feet and approaching me with his hands held out to do something, yet he didnât know what to do.Â
âUm... itâs okay... uh do you have a towel or something before it goes everywhere?â I asked, looking down at my soaking jeans and the darkened material of the bottom half of my green jumper.Â
âUh, of course, yeah, let me just grab one.â Harry quickly ran off into the bathroom, coming back a second later with a towel. âIâm really sorry, Y/N. God this is terrible.â He muttered the second part of his sentence, handing me the towel as he stared at me. I wrapped it around myself, trying to soak up any of the liquid it could. âHere, let me get you something to change into. Canât be sat there in those now.â
âHarry, itâs fine, honest-â
âNo! Iâve been a twat, one sec.â Again he dashed off, coming back a moment later with a hoodie and a pair of joggers.
âThanks, Harry.â I gave me a reassuring smile as I took the clothes and went to the bathroom to change. As I closed the door I could see him sat on the dry part of the sofa, head in hands. Poor boy. I looked at myself in the mirror, silently laughing to myself. This was certainly not how I was expecting tonight to go!
                           --------
âGod I canât tell you how sorry I am.â Harry spoke, both our bellies now full with pizza as he walked with me to the door, grabbing both our jackets. I giggled at him as I put my jacket back on.
âSeriously, Harry, donât worry about it. Iâm literally the clumsiest person ever. It could have happened to anyone.â I replied.
âReally, the clumsiest?âÂ
âOkay,â I laughed. âThe second clumsiest.â I jested, gently poking him with my elbow. âBut you could do something to make it up.â I shyly added, avoiding eye contact. I could see his head snap in my direction.
âAnything! Yes, what is it?â He asked, stepping a little closer, but still remaining respectful with at least a few feet between us.
âYou could give me a goodnight kiss.â I looked at his face, watching as his features seemed to light up.
âYou still want to kiss me after I burned the food and tried to drown you in coke?â He asked, tone somewhat hopeful as he closed a little more of the space between us. I simply nodded my head, a little smile curving my lips.Â
Harryâs grin remained prominent, his hands gentle as that came onto my waist, removing all the distance that was left between us. The intensity of his stare I had felt at the party was back, but I didnât really have time to process it before we were both slowly leaning in to one another.Â
His lips slowly pressed against my lips. The warmth of his skin against mine and the way neither of our mouths were entirely closed due to the fact we couldnât stop grinning sent shivers shooting across my skin. His right hand left my waist, moving to cup my left cheek. My arms went around his middle, a sigh of pleasure leaving my lips as he pulled away, just enough to put a small amount of space between us so he could look me in the eye.
I think I could get used to that.Â
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagines#harry styles blurb#harry styles drabble#one direction#one direction imagines#fanfic
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I am BLOWN AWAY that a) no one has asked for and b) you haven't yet told your wedding story. We should fix this. Go! *waits, eagerly, chin on hands*
No no no, donât ask Runaan, he wonât tell it right. This story takes a while, and I needed to be in the right frame of mind for it, but Iâm here now. Sitting comfy? Here we go.
The day dawned brightâfor the Silvergroveâand I woke up for a moment, unsure where I was. One of the many Moonshadow wedding traditions is to spend your last night before your wedding in the place that represents what youâll bring to your marriage. For me, that was my workshop. My gifts had already kept Runaan safe, my skills made him more efficient. I knew that was going to be my role in our union. So I slept on the floor by my forge, nice and toasty.Â
Tiadrin was my heartguard all nightâshe parked herself outside my door and stayed awake with a sword in her hand. Sometimes Moonshadows test the heartguards by trying to sneak up on them to see if theyâre actually awake, because whatâs a Moonshadow ritual without the occasional sanctioned prank? But Tiadrin chased everyone away and never even woke me up.
She and about a dozen other Moonshadows made me the biggest breakfast Iâve ever seen. Moonberry syrup on everything! And Tiadrin cracking dirty jokes that set everyone giggling, but only when Iâd just taken a bite of my breakfast! She did it on purpose that way, I know she did. That evil grin of hers⌠I donât usually blush, but she got me very blushy that morning.Â
When I was stuffed to the gills, they helped me get all fripped up in my Moonshadow finery. Shimmering white trousers under a floor-length, split-sided white tunic covered in embroidered runes full of love and good fortune. I felt so pretty. And kind of badass. The tailor managed to make my shoulders look even wider than they areâenchantments everywhere, you knowâand I got to wear my pretty white slippers for the first time. I got my turquoise hornflowers attached and the mantle hooked into my doublet so Iâd look all swoopy walking down the stairs. All the silver rings Iâd made, with all their swirlies and gems, winked on my fingers and my ears. Tiadrin even coaxed a few beaded braids into my hair and tucked in a couple of dark lovebird feathers. Lastly, several of them brushed some glittery mothdust on my cheeks so Iâd be especially gleamy in the light.
When she was done prettying me up, Tiadrin looked me up and down and teared up a bit. âRunaanâs going to be speechless,â she told me.
âDonât worry. He always finds other ways to express himself,â I replied.
Apparently saying that on your wedding day is hilarious. Cue more blushing from me!
When the time came, my friends escorted me out and down the long winding staircase, with Tiadrin taking me by the hand and leading the way, and honey, let me tell you, I could hear the gasps from the elves down below. The whole village had crammed itself around the edges of the pool and up above the stone steps across the way, all in their own finery. But I only had eyes for Runaan.Â
He stood below by the pool, watching me like a hawk as I came around the curve of the stairs. Dressed very like me, but with darker hints in the embroidery on his tunic, and the hornflowers he wore were deep purple. I couldnât help itâI blew him a light little kiss from my fingertips. I may have sparked it with a bit of moon magic because I was so excited! The way he reacted, youâd think I was some hero of myth deigning to look his way for the barest second. He practically fangirled! Made me feel very loved.
Tiadrin made sure I didnât fall off the stairs, and she led me to Runaan, who had his own heartguard in Lain. The two of them joined our hands for us and stepped back, and Runaan and I just stared and stared and smiled and smiled. With Runaan, you can have a whole conversation with silent expressions, and boy did we have one then. He was nervous and excited and relieved and exhausted and so ready to be married to me. I wanted to hold him close and never let go. But our day was just starting.
We promenaded together around the ritual pool three times while the village sang a traditional wedding song for us. Then Lain and Tiadrin wrapped our right wrists with pieces of white ribbon, Once the Binding of the Hands was complete, we led everyone up to the village green where there was a lot more room for the actual ceremony. Runaan squeezed my hand tight as we walked side by side, and his palm was damp and hot. I squeezed back even harder and nudged his shoulder. âIâve got you, Runaan. Now and always.â
Moon help me, the look on his face. Like he couldnât quite believe it, but it was exactly what he needed to hear. He hovered somewhere between grinning like an idiot and crying with overwhelming love. âStill up for marrying me, then?â he asked.
âOnly because your horns are so cute.â
âI grew them special, just for you.â
âSuch dedication! Iâll be sure to admire them thoroughly every morning, along with the rest of you.â
At that, Runaan blushed hard. Wedding days are so much fun.
The village council gathered around us in a circle, holding hands, while Runaan and I held each otherâs hands in the middle. They asked us the ritual questions in turn until weâd gone all the way around. I knew my answers, of course. But seeing Runaan stare deeply into my eyes and recite the ways he would care for me for the rest of my life⌠hoo, that went straight to my soul, and my hands were the ones that got hot. He got a little misty when I answered the question about the ways Iâd love Runaan, and my answer went on about putting my gifts in his hands so he could perform his duty and serve his people. I couldâve said lots of things there, but I knew that answer would please him most.
The final question was this, chanted by the whole council at once:Â âYouâve spoken your intent. Runaan, Ethari, how will you show us that you have chosen each other as your beloved match and bonded your hearts together, forsaking all others and holding to these new-made promises, in life, in death, and in the balance thereof?â
Runaan and I turned to our heartguards then, and Lain and Tiadrin stepped into the circle, each bearing a soft pillow with a pair of horn cuffs on it. Runaan slid his pointy cuffs with the turquoise gems onto my horns, and I slid my swirly cuffs onto his. Moon above, he looked so handsome properly cuffed. I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest!
And then we kissed. We joined our right hands together, the bindings glowed white, and we totally made out in front of the whole village.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6d72eb5afbd5e51e27c75d046fa34ea1/739e8abdd0ac2e88-46/s540x810/b272a9391b17924e43559a9b9d64e01d3a06ad60.jpg)
Lain and Tiadrin shouted the loudest, but the whole village lost their minds and tossed handfuls of flower petals around us. In the middle of a blue-and-white floral rain, I got to pull my husband into my arms and kiss him for the very first time. I know I was happycrying first, but Runaan let his feelings pool in his eyes, too.
And way before we were ready to let go of each other, the big drums started across the green. Lain and Tiadrin dragged us over for dancing, and we stood in the center of several concentric rings of elven pairs and danced our first wedding dance together. Itâs still one of my favorite things to do with Runaan, that exact dance.
We danced the morning away, ate lunch, and danced some more. I danced with just about everyone in the Silvergrove! So did Runaan, but he vastly preferred to dance with me instead. After lunch, the games and stories came out, and everyone relaxed for a while on the grass. Lain gave a long and rambling speech about how Runaan had been too flustered to tell me how much he loved me and needed some friendly assistance. Tiadrinâs speech was far more, ah, direct, and her comments on the speed and content of our courtship left Runaan moonberry red amid teasing laughter. I held his hand tightly and whispered, âDonât worry. Iâll fix you right up tonight and weâll really give them something to talk about.â
Well, that didnât help with his blushing, but he looked me right in the eye and said, âWeâd better leave the window open so they can quote me properly.â
We giggled so hard, with our foreheads pressed together and our fingers interlaced, stealing kisses like the lovestruck fools we were. I told you wedding days are fun.
The sun set and the full Moon finally rose, and we danced and danced some more. Things get pretty wild when everyone shifts into full Moonshadow form and dances after a few glasses of moonberry wine. Flowers and bracelets and shoes tossed everywhere. Some of the couples disappeared into the shadows. Runaan and I tossed our mantles aside and really upped our dancing game. His hair came loose and swirled around us, and I lost my hornflowers to a spiraling dip that left me dizzy and gasping in Runaanâs arms.
Thereâs a fun tradition where the wedded couple tries their best to sneak away from their own wedding at the end without getting spotted. Itâs very Moonshadow, and it hardly ever works. But Runaan was determined to get away with it, and he enlisted Lain and Tiadrin to help us. Around midnight, everyone paused for refreshments and stood chatting excitedly. Runaan and I stood together in plain sight and murmured to each other, seeming like we werenât going anywhere, until people stopped watching us to see if we were sneaking off. Then Lain and Tiadrin picked up our mantlesâand my hornflowersâfrom the other side of the green, put them on, and darted along the treeline just long enough to catch someoneâs eye. The moment the cry went up that the newlyweds were trying to slip off together, Runaan and I held hands and dashed in the other direction. I was trying not to giggle, but Runaan was very focused and didnât make a single sound.
We got away clean, of course. Runaanâs plans never fail. Once we reached the tree house, I pulled off my white slippers, and Runaanâsâtotally stained green with dancing on the grassâand set them carefully aside. Wedding slippers are a sign of good luck if theyâve been well danced in.
And then we started a different dance. We did leave the window open, and I helped Runaan with some very memorable quotes for anyone listening in. Couldnât let the village wonder if weâd made it home safely together, could I?
Because we were home. Together. And we always will be. Runaan is my home and my heart. I knew that, way before my wedding day. But I loved, so much, sharing the moment when I changed my life to let Runaan into it, fully and completely. Moonshadow weddings are an absolute delight, and mine is one of my favorite memories of all.
#ask ethari#runaari wedding#moonshadow weddings#ethari's wedding story#story time#runaan x ethari#elf husbands
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Why You Should Be Shipping Shigaraki/Ochako
No, no, hang on a second--I see that side-eye you are throwing hard enough to ruin your peripheral vision. I feel the shade youâre casting like a thundercloud rolling in. But you didnât read wrong. I meant what I said.
Iâve never made a secret of my love for rare pairs, but for once in my damn lonely shipperâs hellscape of a life I would love it if my favorite crack ship in a fandom had more than two fics (Iâm NOT JOKING) to its name.
What can I do to correct this egregious oversight before the entire summer passes with nary a whisper of the most romantic ship since Juliet wherefore art thouâd Romeo?
Well, what else? I was forged in the fires of early 2000sâ fandom, and I know that desperate times call for desperate measures meticulously researched and extremely rose-tinted
Shipping Manifestos.
Fam, I am about to blow your minds, align your chakras, open your third eyes--because Shigaraki and Ochako is the most slept on ship in the entire BNHA fandom, and if you give me ten minutes like an hour (holy shit, this is long), I can prove it.
Disclaimer: @mistystarshine is the enabler who convinced me to write this but we were both enabled by @ohmytheonâs Reconfigure (on AO3) so you know whoâs really responsible.
Spoilers to Chapter 231, watch out.
First off, I know what youâre thinking. Maybe youâre still reading from pure shock. Maybe youâre doubt-reading to get your daily fix of internet skepticism. Maybe youâre waiting for me to say these two characters are meant to be because she wears pink and his hair is blue. Maybe youâre already freaking out about age gaps but like that is what future fics and AUs are actually for!!!
Iâm not telling you to give up your IzuOcha or Kacchako. Iâm not gonna pry ShigaDabi out of your eager little villain stan hands. But if youâve never considered multi-shipping, now is the time my friends, because Iâm totally serious heartfelt here! Iâve got VALID reasons for shipping Shigako--ten of them, in fact:
1) Midoriya is taken for granted as Urarakaâs love interest--but Shigaraki is incredibly similar to him.
There are reams of meta on the parallels between Midoriya and Shigaraki, with plenty people noting how Horikoshi specifically set the two up as foils to examine similar character development despite their drastically different circumstances. Yet for all the meta pointing out that Shigaraki and Midoriya are basically the same character through a mirror darkly, Iâve never seen anyone bear that thought out to its logical conclusion: there are traits Uraraka admires in Midoriya that are extremely apparent in Shigaraki too.
Multiple times in the manga, Uraraka expresses admiration for Dekuâs resolve and refusal to give up. His determination in the face of impossible odds and his sense of dedication to his cause are powerful motivating factors in Ochakoâs storyline, and Dekuâs behavior--his willingness to charge straight into danger and his unflinching pursuit of his goal to be #1--have basically become the standard to which Uraraka holds herself.
Her crush is literally founded on an appreciation for Midoriyaâs drive, earnestness, and constant growth as a person.
But these are all traits that Shigaraki also explicitly possesses. Shigarakiâs unwavering resolve is so strong that even though everyone around him says dream is unattainable... they follow him anyway.
Ujiko flat out tells Shigaraki heâs chasing a pipe dream, but heâs willing to come along for the ride strictly because of how committed Shigaraki is to making that dream a reality. The strength of Tomuraâs conviction alone persuaded a collection of the most volatile and difficult personalities in the manga to band together and become found family the most well-known anti-establishment organization in all of Japan.
Shigaraki never, even in the face of overwhelming threat, backs down from a challenge, and he approaches each impossible task with absolutely as much effort, ferocity, and refusal to quit as Deku. He is just as dedicated, just as much of a shounen protagonist main character, and just as willing to push himself above and beyond as Deku.
The traits that motivated Uraraka to become the character she is today, many of the exact same traits that formed her crush on Midoriya, are all there in Shigaraki. In another world, the person who inspired Uraraka to go âPlus Ultraâ could be Tomura himself, and if 1) no sense of self-preservation, 2) ZERO CHILL, and 3) dogged obsession are what Uraraka finds attractive, Shigaraki clearly has 'em covered. Oh no, heâs meeting all my standards.
2) Being serious though, Ochakoâs role in the plot would be vastly improved by more meaningful interactions with the antagonists, even if just in battle.
Iâve written before about how badly the writing of BNHA treats Ochako, and why her constantly being out-of-focus is a hallmark of the genreâs crippling inability to handle dynamic female characters, but it bears repeating: in her current position in the story, Urarakaâs character has minimal agency. She exists to fill the role of Dekuâs love interest (at worst) and an emotional crutch (at best). Again, absolutely no hate on the IzuOcha ship--itâs clearly canon endgame and âwholesomeâ I guess is what theyâre calling it nowadays. But the way IzuOchaâs being written in canon is actually the worst possible thing that could happen to Urarakaâs individual character, because Ochakoâs crush on Deku has been given virtually no bearing on the storyâs main plot and allows Horikoshi to consistently reduce Urarakaâs personal accomplishments to âinspirations from Dekuâ (in order to, likely, fulfill young male readersâ fantasy of having a girl fixated on them).
Is Uraraka about to do something cool in the manga? Wait for her comment about being motivated by Deku.
Does Uraraka actually get to see some action and get involved in a fight? Wait for someone to bring up her feelings for Deku.
Is Deku about to have a dramatic clash with the storyâs villains to advance the main plotline? Wait for Ochako to entirely vanish (at worst) or get sidelined into a three panel clip where sheâll use the same martial art move sheâs been using since like chapter 10 (at best).
If I have to read âGunhead Martial Artsâ one more fucking time... Give Ochako her OWN supermoves goddammit!!
The story of the comic itself continually pushes Ochako out of any position of relevance. Sheâs not one of UAâs strongest fighters (despite having a quirk that, if applied like ANY of the male characters, has incredible potential), sheâs not given half the emotional depth or attention even side characters like Kirishima get, and her backstory lacks the development many of the male charactersâ get (Iâm looking at you, Todoroki).
As a âgood girl,â she isnât allowed to get her hands dirty like Toga, she isnât allowed to get as bloodied or ugly as any of the boys, and she can never be allowed to surpass the main male characters in coolness or plot relevance because girls can be âheroesâ but they canât be The Heroâ˘. (Iâm literally gagging, guys.)
Which is EXACTLY why a plot involving Shigaraki and Ochako--in ANY capacity, even just a flat out fight against each other!--would actually be a fan-fucking-tastic addition to BNHA.
Skip the token Toga vs. Ochako chick fight where they squabble over who loves Izuku more. Let Toga talk to Izuku as herself for once. Let Uraraka throw down with the Leagueâs leader. At least once, Horikoshi? Just once?
Literally any form of plot that puts Shigaraki and Ochako into contact would mean moving Uraraka into a more central position within the mangaâs plot, would boost her screen-time, increase the likelihood of her contributing to the storyâs primary conflict, and would give her more to do and emotionally engage with than just repeating the same lines about Deku being amazing on an endless loop. There is untapped character development potential in spades here if Uraraka was given chance to genuinely interact with the other half of the storyâs cast!
Giveđ Urarakađ somethingđ meaningfulđ to do!đ
Putting the storyâs foremost female character on out there on the frontlines with the mangaâs actual main character antagonist would finally break her out of the mold sheâs been forced into by genre stereotypes and set her on an even playing field with the male heroes at last.
A meaningful encounter with Shigaraki could be Ochakoâs ticket to being treated respectfully by the story itself (and hell if giving underappreciated characters a real place in the world isnât Tomuraâs freakinâ calling card already).
3) Okay, I know the words âsubverting expectationsâ leave a bad taste in everyoneâs mouth nowadays, but there is a huge difference between âthrowing inexplicable plot twists at the audience just for shock factorâ and âaverting stale cliches in an emotionally rewarding manner.â Sure, cliches do exist for a reason, but there are still many instances where actively avoiding a cliche plotline is a great choice. A shounen mangaâs token love interest ending up with someone other than the hero--namely with a (reformed) villain--would be an interesting flip on the trite âhero gets the girlâ script.
Look, we all know how it goes: Hero clashes with Bad Guy. They duke it out all over Kingdom Come. RIP like fifty square city blocks. The Hero wins, heads home triumphant, sweeps his Princess off her feet, and sails off into the hero rankings sunset. End of the same story weâve seen a million times. Sometimes itâs done well and the audience is left satisfied. Other times, the heroine involved is reduced to the heroâs reward, less person than wish fulfillment. In either case, tying up a romantic subplot with a hero is the go-to way of resolving female charactersâ storylines and, at this point, pretty much a given in manga, even when the romantic subplot is never given the development it deserves, leaving audiences bewildered at how and why the hook-up actually happened.
Iâm not saying every comic should âsubvert expectationsâ and cancel its romantic subplot between the hero and heroine, of course not. But I am saying that it would be pretty refreshing to see something else for once.
By virtue of their role, villains donât usually âget the girl.â Even redeemed villains rarely end up in happy, healthy, well-written relationships. Itâs not impossible but it is unlikely that a seriesâ designated female lead ever wavers in her attentions from the main hero to a new romantic target.
So it would be pretty cool if one did, if the moral of the storyâs romantic subplot wasnât just "token love interest completes painfully shoehorned romantic gestures.â A good romance with a redeemed ex-villain instead of a hero would take a lot more explanation. It would demand, by its very nature, more work on the authorâs part to suspend disbelief. The characters would have to develop an entirely different rapport from the normal interactions between designated love interests, and, to a certain extent, strong character growth would be required in order for such a romance to even get started. Thereâs more moral complexity and conflict to a subplot like this, and a greater sensation of choice--if the heroine doesnât have to end with the hero by the end of the story, well hey... That means she could end up with just about anyone. Whoa.
Even more so, in the specific case of Shigaraki, who has lived a life of misery and manipulation, the idea that he could come out on the other side, grow as a person, redeem himself, and eventually enter a healthy relationship with someone who isnât going to hurt him is an idea I find deeply appealing. I think there are a lot of villain stans, myself included, who see parts of themselves in Shigaraki. If a character who has been so severely impacted by abuse can still heal and ultimately end up happy, to me, thatâs a far more hopeful and heart-warming conclusion than the alternatives. I did warn you this manifesto would be rose-tinted, didnât I?
I want storylines that prove that none of us are beyond saving. That people who make bad choices can still change. That romance isnât a reward for playing the ârightâ role. That heroines have options. That there are still pleasant surprises to be found in romance plots.
4) But why Shigaraki and Ochako, in particular? Itâs not like they have any remotely shared life experiences--
Oops. Friendly reminder: Ochako is the only major character in the manga besides the villains who is overtly described as, I quote, âpoorer than poor.â Todoroki, Yaomomo, and Iida can all make it rain; Kaminari, Mina, and Jirou can afford stylish clothes; Kirishima can drop a stupid amount on night vision googles... Even Midoriya, whose father âworks overseas,â can afford plenty of All Might merchandise. One of the popular fandom theories for a while was that Ochako could be U.A.âs traitor specifically because of her desire to help her parents financially, and I think that most readers at this point can discern a clear divide in BNHAâs society: heroes are the âhavesâ and villains are the âhave nots.â To be a hero in this story is to attend a prestigious school, have access to expensive support items, gear, insurance, fame and glory, etc.
Meanwhile, with the exception of All For One, to be a villain in BNHAâs story is to be marginalized, live in unfit conditions, lack access to basic safety and nutritional resources, and struggle to make ends meet. When ability to thrive in a hero-centric society is synonymous with being a good and worthwhile person, anyone who doesnât just naturally excel in the hero-driven economy is treated as flawed at best and suspect at worst. Poor characters in the story are ignored, and, as demonstrated with people like Twice, left essentially to fend for themselves.
Urarakaâs status as lower income is mostly played for laughs. Sheâs still a privileged character in that she can attend U.A., receive hero items for free, has a safe place to live, etc. But it is important that the story acknowledges her familyâs situation, because her financial status does set her apart from her classmates.
She is less privileged than the others. Being âthe poor characterâ situates Uraraka in the interesting divide between those who couldnât cope and chose to rebel against hero society instead, versus those who conformed to the hero system in an attempt to improve their situations. In different circumstances, if Urarakaâs family was just even the tiniest bit worse off, we might be seeing a very different character here, one who had to make some much harder choices to keep her family afloat.
Having been in the position of "going without,â Uraraka also has a unique understanding of the âreal worldâ that many of her heroics classmates might lack. She understands what it is like to go hungry, to not be able to afford to keep up with the newest trends, to be constantly anxious about the future--to feel unsuccessful, overlooked, and under constant pressure to perform. As someone who wasnât raised in the lap of luxury or even really a middle-class home, Uraraka has more insight into--and would likely have more empathy for--the plight of the downtrodden daily criminals of the BNHA world. Just based on her own life experiences, Ochako is more likely than her classmates to recognize how harsh reality can be, and understand the temptations that lead people to make terrible decisions.
This makes Ochako an especially interesting character in terms of her pro hero future. Would she be able to sympathize and reach out to struggling "villainsâ more effectively than others from her class, who lack her humble background? Would she be able to better see the big picture of BNHAâs society, and the way it actively creates villains from its marginalized populations? Would she be able to look at the League not just as criminals, but also as people who never stood a chance within the confines of a rigged social structure?
Urarakaâs background shifts her closer to the storyâs villains than many of the other hero characters, and puts her in a unique place to both empathize and become motivated to change the flawed system that produced people like Shigaraki and the League in the first place.
5) Likewise, Urarakaâs background actually makes her more palatable to Shigaraki than other heroes. At least at the beginning of the comic, Uraraka isnât shy about admitting that one of her reasons for becoming a hero is to help her parents financially. Ochakoâs original motivation for heroism isnât portrayed as nobly as othersâ like Deku--Deku has no ulterior motives for being a hero; he just wants to save people and wouldnât care about personally benefiting.
Instead, Ochako is presented as someone who (initially) sees heroism as a means to an end. Itâs not that she doesnât want to save people, but that sheâs not doing so only for the intrinsic worth... the hefty paycheck that comes from heroism is a big draw.
Over time the manga has shown her shifting away from this (which actually makes her character less unique, unfortunately), but Iâm sure itâs still a thought for her, and sheâs definitely going to send paychecks to her parents in the future. At the end of the day, heroism is still going to be Urarakaâs ticket to a better lifestyle, even if sheâs committed herself to it honestly by the time she leaves U.A.
But itâs this exact form of personal motivation that Shigaraki is much more likely to understand than the âgoody-two-shoesâ motivations of people like Deku. Multiple times in the comic Shigaraki has expressed confusion with societyâs habit of clinging mindlessly to symbols, of their blind faith in the virtues of heroism, and their ability to simply overlook suffering because âsurely a hero will do something about it.â Stainâs ideals about âtrue heroesâ go straight past Shigaraki, who seems to hate heroes who are earnest (All Might, Iâm talking about All Might) far more than those who are simply faking their way through for fame.Â
Shigaraki understands humans who are driven by personal gain. He respects the individual desires of people he cares about. Someone in the hero industry explicitly seeking tangible benefits would likely, to Shigaraki at least, come across as more genuine than someone who claims they have no ulterior motives, and a person who is blunt about their needs and grounded in the reality of BNHAâs world would likely be much more acceptable to Tomura than someone who spews trite lines about peace and justice.
Shigarakiâs feelings for heroes have been irreparably damaged by his conditioning from All For One, but there are certainly some heroes that he would find less loathsome than others. He will probably never understand Dekuâs selflessness. All Mightâs saccharine symbolism actively infuriates him. But a person who became a hero to put food on the table? To provide for her parents (maybe especially because it is her parents sheâs trying to provide for)? Thatâs at least understandable. If the mangaâs future does see Shigaraki redeemed, my thought is that the only type of heroes weâll ever see him willingly interact with would still be heroes just like Ochako, with more âdown to earthâ personal motivations. Uraraka, your codename is âIf I had to date a heroâ...
6) While weâre talking about shared life experiences, thereâs another very obvious similarity between Shigaraki and Ochako: neither one of them can touch things with all five fingers.
Cute/fridge horror observation: Shigaraki is even daintier about touching things than Uraraka is; Uraraka usually lifts just her pinkies, but Shigaraki frequently uses as few fingers as possible.
Yeah, yeah, they both have to be dainty and careful with everything they hold. Itâd be cute to watch them eat together. They could mutually gripe about the annoyance of video game consoles not designed for four-finger use. More than that though, neither one of them can touch other human beings without the risk of causing death.
Uraraka, as a hero, has the more privileged quirk design (she can turn her quirk off, while Shigaraki canât) and until recently, the comic was always very careful to portray Urarakaâs quirk in a way that no one was endangered by it. But dropping Zero Gravity into the hands of a villain for a single chapter reveals the truth: Urarakaâs quirk has just as much lethal potential as Shigarakiâs.
Like Shigaraki, Uraraka has to face the reality that her touch alone could jeopardize the safety of anyone she comes into contact with, in her daily life and in her hero work. Drop some debris without looking twice? Just crushed a civilian. Release your quirk without thinking? Now the villain you floated is paste on the sidewalk. Thought that it was safe to float away the building? Oops, you crushed someone still trapped inside. Yikes. In a one-on-one battle, Uraraka is actually at a disadvantage not because her quirk is weak, but the dead opposite--in an outdoor fight, she would have to actively work not to accidentally send people off into outer space.
Having an auto-activate touch quirk means that both Shigaraki and Ochako have to be conscious of every single thing they touch all the time. Both of their quirks require constant bodily awareness, and both come with the lurking knowledge that âMy touch causes problems.â Even for Ochako, who would merely be a nuisance if she accidentally floated objects indoors, itâs easy to internalize frustration and negative associations with oneâs own body. Every day, Ochako has to be careful with herself in a way that few of her peers do, another factor that sets her apart.
One of the storyâs overarching themes is the idea of âself-acceptanceâ and what it even means to âaccept yourselfâ in a world where (almost) every human being possesses a distinguishing feature, often built into their bodies at the expense of standard human functioning. For people with limited control over their quirks, who canât choose when the effect activates, a quirk is a constant burden and facet of their identity that entirely re-shapes how they interact with the world. Both Shigaraki and Uraraka face the practicality of having burdensome, even lethal, auto-activate quirks that require constant self-awareness. This is a similarity that, of the major characters, only Shigaraki and Ochako possess so far. (Even other major characters with touch-based quirks like Overhaul appear to be able to choose when to activate their quirks).
The âfunnyâ way Shigaraki and Ochako hold things seems like just a small similarity until you remember the amount of practice and frustration it must have taken to internalize a four-fingered touch. Until you remember that this similarity marks them both as very careful and self-conscious characters. Until you remember that Shigarakiâs got a one-touch instakill... but so does Uraraka Ochako.
7) Okay, similarities are cool and all, but you know what they say: opposites attract. And if weâre talking character motivation, there are no cleaner opposites in the entire series. Shigaraki and Ochako are actually even better emotional foils than Shigaraki and Deku, because Ochakoâs central motivation is âMake as many people smile as possibleâ and Shigarakiâs is, literally, âMake it so no one can ever smile again.â
I know I ragged on it earlier, but now Iâm going to use it to my full advantage: as the story evolved and characters grew, Ochakoâs âtrueâ motivation to become a hero revealed itself: she feels a deep, intrinsic happiness when witnessing the happiness of others. Her desire as a hero is to spread relief, the sense of security that allows people to go about their days smiling. She literally feels happiest when everyone around her is happy.
Even more so than Deku, this casts Uraraka as Shigarakiâs diametric opposite in the story, because Shigarakiâs entire pipe dream goal also hinges on the smiles of others--and how absolutely much he hates them. Shigarakiâs goal is total world destruction because he just resents the happiness of others that fucking much.
On the surface alone itâs more fascinating than the story will probably ever live up to: Ochako, the heroine who wants to spread smiles; Shigaraki, the villain who wants to destroy them. Even if weâre just talking canon, zero romance involved, that would still be an interesting conflict to explore. The story could cover a lot of deeper ground by drawing the comparison between these two characters more directly. It would definitely validate Uraraka being involved in more major plot events, at the very least.
BUT this was supposed to be about shipping, so of course I canât leave it there, and leaving it there would only be half the story anyway, because nobody is born hating smiles. Everything weâve seen of Shigarakiâs past so far indicates that he was a kid with a cute dog, a warm relationship with his sister, and an interest in heroes--i.e., a decent life that probably included his own fair share of smiles. Shigarakiâs hatred and resentment are direct products of the traumatic manipulation he suffered at AFOâs hands. He despises the idea that people around him can smile and act upbeat, even when they objectively know villains are lurking all around them. He is actually sick to his stomach at the idea of people blindly putting their faith in heroes, knowing what he does: that heroes often fail, that there are many people who desperately need to be rescued and are instead overlooked. The world failed Shimura Tenko and then had the nerve to keep on smiling without him.
Other peopleâs smiles represent nothing but the joy, security, love, and peace that Shigaraki Tomura hasnât experienced since the day his quirk manifested. The sight of any living thing fills Shigaraki with rage because everything bright and beautiful, everything good and calm and kind and soft and warm, is everything that Shigaraki has lost and believes he will never, ever get to experience again.
Shigaraki doesnât really hate the pure happy smiles of others; he hates the fact that the world has taken away every single thing he ever had to smile about.
It is my belief that Horikoshi is hinting at a redemption arc for Shigaraki, especially as we see the League become closer allies. But Shigaraki canât be completely redeemed, canât be persuaded to give up his world-destruction plan, until he can look at the smiles of others without scorn. Until the bright, upbeat attitudes of heroes other people no longer feel like a personal attack. Until heâs happy enough that the happiness of others no longer hurts. Until the weight is lifted.
And I canât think of any character more obviously suited to helping lift an immense weight than Uraraka, the zero gravity hero who wants nothing more than to spread smiles.
8) Speaking of lifting weights... Kacchako is a popular ship stemming in large part from Bakugouâs refusal to treat Uraraka with kid gloves. He faces her head-on as a real opponent and views her like any other hero hopeful.
As Iâve said before, this is pretty much the most respectfully the series itself has ever treated Uraraka Ochako, and it caught a lot of attention because it was one of the rare occasions that a female pro hero-in-training was really treated as an equal to the male characters. Kacchako shippers had something awesome to work with.
But... You know who else treats women as equals? (Hell, you know who treats literally everyone as equals, from those with mutant quirks to trans people to those with severe mental health issues?) You can say what you want about Shigarakiâs habit of, you know, mass murder, but in terms of viewing others equally and respecting (okay, letâs be real, itâs probably closer to just ignoring) differences, Tomura is about as open-minded as BNHA characters come. The League is an equal opportunity employer.
Unlike actual hero characters, Shigaraki has never once suggested that Toga is incapable of keeping up with any of the male members of the League, and in fact has entrusted her with many of the Leagueâs most dangerous and crucial missions. He explicitly has faith in her ability and skill.
Togaâs right there in the fight against Gigantomachia and the QLA, as much an equal member of the League as anyone else. In terms of gender equality, the villains seem to be light-years ahead of their hero counterparts, and Shigaraki in particular doesnât discriminate, among his allies or his opponents either. Heâs not a âspare the women and childrenâ kind of guy; every hero and villain challenger is treated with equal violence (and equal snark), whether theyâre male, female, a long-time pro or a student in training.
In whatever context--canon opponent, AU ally, or a future romantic interest--Shigaraki would take Ochako just as seriously as Bakugou did. If you like Kacchako because Bakugou doesnât dismiss Uraraka, that same dynamic would be present in Shigako too.
9) And on the topic of Shigaraki and women... It doesnât feel accidental that every single female character who ever had love for Shigaraki has been taken away from him. A distinct part of Shigarakiâs storyline is that all positive female role models have been systematically removed from his life. He lost his grandmother, a hero he could have looked up to; he lost his mother, who he now has no memory of; he lost the older sister he clearly held dear... All For Oneâs control over Tomura has always been total, but this particular detail feels especially insidious: was All For Oneâs spite for Nana so strong that he delighted in deliberately destroying every single relationship Tenko had with women connected to Nanaâs legacy? (Or is AFO perhaps just a raging misogynist? Every single one of his known associates is male and he seemed to despise and mock Nana particularly hard...)
In any case, the point Iâm trying to make here is that, even ruling love interests out, Shigarakiâs storyline would be enriched by forging a meaningful connection with a female character like Ochako. Acceptance--maybe even some grudging admiration--for a female hero? A fantastic opportunity to show just how different the âvillainsâ are from the discriminatory society that produced them. Supporting friendship while heâs on the road to recovery? A+ way to diversify interactions between the male and female cast. Send a tough girl to Tartarus to question his motives? Nice chance for tense dialogue and some good old noire-esque foe yay. Hostage situation that takes a turn for the surprisingly cordial? Fun way to explore different dynamics and humanize the villains because hey, they treated the âdamselâ to dinner shortbread cookies. My god, Shigaraki could even develop some positive sense of rivalry with a woman, for example! The possibilities are endless if youâre actually willing to give female characters a shot!
Being more serious, Tomuraâs life has been dramatically marked by the loss of his female family members, and--at least from what we know so far--his entire youth was spent without the presence of reliable friendships, let alone any form of âloveâ that wasnât disturbingly fake. Beyond his fragmented memories, he has no models for healthy relationships, romantic or otherwise.
Letting Shigaraki develop to the point that he could form a mutually positive relationship with a female hero character would be extremely cathartic for me as a reader. I donât mean ârewarding redemption with a last-minute happy ending romanceâ--I mean actually getting the opportunity to watch Tomura rediscover what it means to be genuinely loved and realize he has the capacity to give love and be happy in return...
Reaching that level of mutual support and closeness--especially with a female pro hero--would be the biggest âFUCK YOUâ that Shigaraki could give to All For One, short of, you know, actually killing him.
Shigaraki Tomura has a critical (and deliberate) lack of healthy connections to women. BNHA, coincidentally, has a criminally under-utilized female lead just twiddling her thumbs over here, waiting for a meaningful plotline to be thrown her way.
Sure, putting AFO in prison is cool and all, but have you considered... crushing his pride and legacy of evil by helping the boy he tortured for years learn to love again? Iâm just sayinâ!
Uraraka Ochako, snatching Shigaraki right the fuck out of AFOâs hands:
10) Basically what the whole thing boils down to is this: Shigaraki Tomura needs a hero.
Donât mistake my meaning. A lot of âgirl meets bad boyâ plots end up amounting to âgirl becomes emotionally responsible for fixing bad boyâs issues,â and thatâs not what Iâm gunning for--Shigaraki has to redeem himself because redemption is only meaningful when it stems from the characterâs own inner desire to change; Iâm not quite rose-tinted enough to buy into the Love Redeems trope myself. Iâm definitely not advocating anyone dump Shigaraki Tomura as he is now into Uraraka Ochakoâs lap and expect her to turn him from a beast to a beauty. Itâs not an unrelated womanâs responsibility to fix a broken man.
But! From a readerâs perspective, I think we can agree: Shigarakiâs redemption cannot be complete until he learns to believe in real heroes. He doesnât have to like them. He doesnât have to support hero society. But he has to be able to look at real heroes like Izuku and Ochako and admit that they are doing whatâs right--that society is a better place because they are here. Shigarakiâs path to recovery canât even begin until heâs capable of at least acknowledging that the world has things worth saving in it.
If Horikoshi moves forward with a redemption arc for Shigaraki, it will probably be Deku who Detroit Smashes the message of truly noble heroes into Shigarakiâs head. Thatâs his job as the resident Warrior Therapist, I suppose. But you know... to me, it might be even more meaningful if Shigarakiâs hero--if the hand that reaches out to rescue him--isnât The Heroâs⢠but just a heroâs. We all know Deku is selfless and good to the core. As All Mightâs perfect successor, he really has nothing to prove. Itâs everyone else who is in question. Itâs the whole rest of hero society that owes Shigaraki Tomura an explanation for the suffering of people like the Leagueâs members. Itâs everyone else who needs to prove they can do better--that in the future, there will be no bloody children left abandoned in back alleyways.
Uraraka Ochakoâs conviction is to save people. As a female hero who hasnât lived a privileged life, sheâs uniquely situated to think about those who are most often overlooked. In a world where violence begets violence, where only those with strength and flash excel, what a powerful message it would send for the terrifying antagonist to effectively be rescued by someone the story itself has called âa frail girl.â At the end of the day, heroics isnât supposed to be about mountain-destroying explosions and mach punches--heroics is supposed to be about heart, about reaching out a gentle helping hand, about spreading smiles to those who need them most.
Tomuraâs faith in heroes has been brutally stripped from him, and every part of his conflict is tied up intimately with his misdirected hatred: it wasnât actually heroes who isolated and hurt him--it was villains. In order to move forward, he will have to come to that horrible realization, deal with that means for himself and his place in the world, and recognize the truth: there are goodness and good people in the world. Selfless heroes, those who wouldnât turn their backs on a crying child, do exist. There are people, even now, who would extend a kind hand to Shigaraki Tomura and do their best to bring a real smile to his face. Because thatâs whatâs really going on, after all.
Shimura Tenko is still waiting to be saved.
And I know just the person to do it.
#Shigaraki Tomura#Uraraka Ochako#Shigaraki#Ochako#Shigaraki/Ochako#Shigako#OTP: Stardust#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha meta#discussions of abuse#discussions of poverty#in which I spill an entire pot of tea#regarding BNHA's#female characters#this started out as a joking request from a Discord servermate#and turned into this beast#I love this ship so much#when will the rest of the world awaken#ohmytheon#mistystarshine#I blame y'all for this
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guardian stars
ikemen vampire: temptation in the darkÂ
gen | isaac newton/reader | 1759
https://archiveofourown.org/works/20241049
homesick, you look up at the stars for comfort. | pining isaac if you squint. yes I took liberties on the history of astronomical knowledge so suspend your disbelief, wonât you?
anonymous requested: Could I request some IkeVamp Isaac x Reader/MC? I donât really have anything specific in mind, just something sweet?
19th century France isnât half bad, you try to convince yourself, sitting out in the mansionâs impossibly large back garden. You sit on a bench, looking up at the shining stars. Light pollution in France at this point in history couldnât possibly match to the cities youâve so gotten used to. Here, the night sky seemed⌠alive, vastly different from that which you knew. It was near unfamiliar: you try to take in as much as you can of its glossy blackness, its deep blue, accented by the multicolored stars and planets, and of course, the shining moon.
Then, from your left side: âWhat are you doing out here?â
You jolt from the sudden noise and immediately swat whatever was there, and it takes you a moment to realize that youâd just slapped Isaac Newton right across his arm. He presses one hand where you hit him rather defensively, but the contact had hardly made any noise you knew it didnât hurt. You smile awkwardly.
âSorry,â you say, still obviously shaken. âDidnât notice you there.â
âYou should go back in,â he says, arms crossed in front of him. He looks concerned. âItâs late and dark out. Itâs dangerous here, even if weâre in the middle of the woods.â
âItâll be fine.â You point up to the sky. âJust stargazing a little⌠why are you out?â
âTo clear my head,â Isaac says. He hesitates, for a moment, thinking if he should invade the space, before asking, âMind if I join you?â
You shake your head no, scooting over in the bench to make some room. But Isaac moves a couple paces past you, crouching to press his hand against the grass to check if itâs wet, before taking a seat on the ground. He doesnât seem to mind that he looks overdressed to be sitting on the ground. He leans his weight backwards against the heels of his palms for a moment, but then he eventually relaxes into a lying-down position.
You see the stars reflected in his eyes and feel ever so lonely for a moment.
Stuck where youâve time-slipped, for a moment you think of just about how lost you areâhow lost you have been. Youâve even gotten to the point where youâd found your way into a mansion two centuries into the past, through some door in the Louvre Museum that should DEFINITELY have been marked with some sort of âDO NOT ENTERâ sign or something. You feel without trajectory, and in this unfamiliar place, you feel like you donât have both your place to return to, and your place to go to.
âDo you ever get homesick?â you ask, the words coming out of your mouth before you could stop them.
âHuh?â
He turns his head towards you, and when your eyes meet, you swallow anxiously. âYou know, being in France and all,â you say softly, suddenly feeling bad about having asked at all. âDonât you miss where youâre from?â
âNot really,â Isaac answers, turning his attention back to the stars. âItâs the same wherever I am.â
âOh.â You try not to sound as deflated as you feel. âWell, thatâs good.â
The both of you are quiet for a moment, but in a heartbeat, Isaac has picked up.
âAre you homesick?â he asks.
âA little,â you say, but thatâs a lie; youâre so homesick it hurts everywhere. Pain hiding in the back of your mind, the joints where your bones meet. It seems even your body knows this isnât where you belong. You also miss your friends, you miss your phone (!), you miss your work, you miss the plumbing (!), you miss the bustle of the places you call your own. No matter how friendly 19th century France has been to you, this was not home to you.
(Not yet.)
Isaac purses his lips for a moment before speaking. âHas astronomy changed much where youâre from?â
âChanged?â Youâre no astronomer, thereâs really little you actually know in detail, but âA little, I guess? There are these huge telescopes, so we can see very far away from us now. And weâve left the planet, you know? Weâve sent these little⌠machines to far, far away. Humans have even gone to the moon. Left footprints and all that.â
Isaac chuckles, finding it hard to believe. âThe moon.â
âYes, the moon!â
âThatâs⌠amazing,â he mumbles idly, turning back to the stars..
âBut you know, a lot of it is thanks to you, I bet,â you tease, a smile making its way to your lips. It hurt a little to smile when you felt so lonely, but it was a start. âWe learn about you in school, you know. They even call you the Father of Modern Science.â
âOkay, stop with that embarrassing stuff now,â Isaac sighs dismissively. You only chuckle. Somehow, you know that if the garden was any better lit, youâd see how red his face is. Somehow, Isaac is transparent to you.
But to him? Youâve always caught him off guard. In the few days youâve spent in the mansion, youâve managed to somehow surprise him at every turn. Always forward-facing, always âgive it your allâ, always doing this or that as if you couldnât just sit and keep still. As if you didnât want to. You were always so out there that Isaac had lingering thoughts about needing to keep watch over you wherever you are just in case something goes wrong.
There was a time Theodorus was carrying out some paintings and heâd joked for you to carry some for him, but you actually did, nearly falling over as you lifted one that looked double your weight. What about that time Dazai nearly coerced you into trying to enter the mansion through a window like he does? And donât let Isaac start on the multiple times Arthur had finessed his way into teasing youâthe list wonât end!
The point is, you had so much brightness in you that sometimes Isaac had to look away.
So to see you look so forlorn and lost like you were right now just shattered him. Isaac knewâthat he had to do something. Thatâs why heâs talking to you right now. Thatâs why he insisted on staying even if heâd usually come out to be left alone to thinkâor in this case, rest from thinking. He couldnât just leave you alone.
Isaacâs voice quivers a little. He turns his head to the side, but not enough to look back at you. âCome over here for a bit, wonât you?â
âS-Sure?â you say, getting up from the bench to lay next to him on the ground. The grass is cool from the night but not damp, and you settle next to him, careful of your clothes. You put your arms behind your head to cradle it before looking up at the vast canvas of the deep blue night sky. âWoah.â You are breathless. âIt looks different from down here.â
âRight?â Isaac hums. He points upwards, directing your attention to him, then to the light. âYou canât get homesick like this, you know,â he says, nearly off-handedly.
You turn to him. âWhat do you mean?â
âAssuming the theories are still correctâŚâ he says, voice trailing off into a whisper. He raises one hand to his bangs, twirling a lock of hair as he continues. âDo you want to listen a bit about astronomy?â
You shrug. âYeah, sure.â
âWhen you look up at the stars, you do something similar to time traveling. The light youâre seeing isnât the actual light itâs emitting right now. What youâre seeing is light they emitted a much longer time ago, depending on how far away the star is��because of the sheer distance it needs to travel to get to, well, your eyes,â he explains, gesturing with his hands. âSome of the light you see are from billions of years ago, maybe, from stars probably billions of years old. Older. The newest-born stars probably havenât been around long enough for their light to reach us.â
You nod, unable to respond, your head slowly wrapping itself around the concept. What you do know for sure is that you find the lull of Isaacâs voice very relaxing.
âMy point is,â Isaac says, clearing his throat, âthe starlight you see here are from the same stars you see from where you are from, two hundred years into the future. The starlight theyâre emitting is headed forward in time, just like you are. Moving forward, from far, far away.â He pauses to let the thought simmer. âAnd when you go back to your time, you can look up at the stars again and think, âthis same light has been over France once, too.â Doesnât âhomeâ not feel as far like that?â
You feel small, and yet so infinitely loved by the universe. âIs this what you think when you get homesick, Isaac?â
He only shrugs.
You nestle in the solemn quiet as you let the words Isaac said sink in. Heâs so kind; in his own little, peculiar, nerdy way, when he didnât really have any duty to, heâd reached out to you to try to comfort you, to distract you from the doubts and fears that were filling your head to the brim.
Nodding your head, you smile. âYouâre right. With these stars out there, home doesnât feel that far at all. Because weâre looking up at the same sky.â
âIn a way,â Isaac agrees. He watches your eyesâ dim light brighten.Â
âCould I⌠could I treasure what you said? So that when I start to feel that way⌠I can keep that in my thoughts. Maybe I should just think of the starlightâand how Iâll get where Iâm supposed to be eventually.â He doesnât answer, just turns back to the night sky quietly, as you clear your head of the gloomy anxiety. You reach out the hand closer to him to find his own, and twirl your pinkies together when you find it.
âWhââ
âItâs like suddenly youâve given me all these guardian stars,â you say. âThank you, Isaac. I feel a little bit less homesick now.â
You turn to look at him, into the stars in his eyes, and for the first time since youâve gotten to the mansion you feel less alone. Like youâre suddenly home. You turn back to the open sky.
Gently, as if shy, you feel Isaacâs pinky tighten around yours.
âGuardian stars that keep watch over you wherever you are,â Isaac mumbles, ears red, lost in thought.
#ikemen vampire#ikevamp#ikevamp isaac#isaac newton#ikevam#fic#here's the isaac fic you asked for anon!!!!#hope you like it!!#rating:G
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"Language, Jedediah!" Mary exclaimed, her expression halfway between aghast and hilariously amused. First sentence fic prompt.
This is so not five sentences...and I also put your sentence in the body of the fic and not at the beginning. But I hope you like it anyway! There will be a follow-up chapter as well!
March 1868
They had been on their way to dinner when Jed had suddenly stopped short, his eyes widening.Â
âFritz?âÂ
His voice was suddenly far louder than Mary deemed necessary. The sound seemed to echo for a moment in the chilly air as he blinked in disbelief, as if he thought that his eyes were playing tricks on him.
Luckily, no one else on the bustling New York streets--so vastly different from Alexandria or even Boston, and yet somehow exactly the same--seemed to take any notice of Jedâs outburst. As Mary stopped in her tracks, wondering what in the world had possessed him, Jed looked sidelong at her for a moment. A childish grin that Mary knew far too well by now was playing at the corners of his mouth. âIt canât be,â he murmured, staring ahead into the crowd.
âWho canât be, Jed? Or...what?â Mary added almost as an afterthought, looking around in confusion. She was fairly certain sheâd never heard Jed say that name in her life.Â
âApologies, Baroness,â he said by way of explanation, and Mary couldnât help but roll her eyes. He only trotted out that old nickname on very rare occasions these days, often right before he was about to do something that Mary would surely object to.
âFor what?â she asked with growing trepidation.
âFor this.â He released his gentle hold on Mary's arm, and raised both of his hands up to his face, cupping them around his mouth, and just as Mary realized what was about to happen (and was preparing to warn him off of it) his voice let loose, a child hollering for his friend across the schoolyard.
âThat cannot be old Fritz Bhaer!â
Mary braced for embarrassment, her entire body tensing, and prayed for strength.This time, everyone on the street did hear, and Maryâs cheeks flamed as over twenty heads in their immediate vicinity turned to look at them--including, up ahead of them, the object of Jedâs attention in the first place, and the manâs companion as well.
Mary watched as the two, a man and a woman turned in tandem, and as they did she caught sight of identical curious expressions. The man was tall with thick, dark hair and a rather rumpled appearance--he wore no hat, despite social conventions and the brisk wind of a New York spring. His eyes were also dark, Mary could tell even at a distance--just as she could see the moment that confusion faded and recognition dawned.
âJedediah!â he called delightedly. He hastened towards them, his companion following close behind. âOr Doctor Foster, I should say now, I suppose!â Maryâs eyes widened in surprise at his German accent, the cadence achingly familiar to her even though she had never met this man before in her life.Â
Jed, however, quite clearly had. The two strangers had reached them now, and Mary watched as Jed and the other man shook hands with gusto, wide grins brightening both their faces. Jedâs free hand pounded him lightly twice on the back. The manâs companion hung back slightly, near the pair but not quite with them, although the look on her face betrayed her clear bemusement at this turn of events. âI canât believe it!â Jed cried. âWhat the hell are you doing here?â
âJed!â Mary hissed.
âI might ask thee the same question! We are both far from home, it seemsâŚâ the younger manâs eyes sparkled with mirth and affection as he looked at Jed.
âSome of us further than others. I didnât have to cross a damned ocean to get here, Fritz.â
âLanguage, Jedediah!â Mary exclaimed, her expression halfway between aghast and hilariously amused. It was the first real thing that she had said since this strange encounter began, and while she wished she could have made a better first impression, Jed hadnât exactly given her much of a choice in the matter.
He jumped, seeming to remember that she was there. Mary was so amused and curious that she forgot to be offended. âOf course! Look at me, forgetting that introductions are in order. Mary, this is Friedrich Bhaer. I stayed with his family while I was studying in Germany. Fritz, this is Mary--â he paused for effect, clearly relishing his next words-- âmy wife.â
Mary held her breath as she waited for Mr. Bhaerâs reaction. He and Jed were clearly close, or at least they had been once. Was it possible that the two had stayed in touch? How much did Mr. Bhaer know about Eliza, the divorce, all of it? How much could she bear for him to know? Mary watched his face carefully, looking for a flicker of recognition, an arch of an eyebrow in curiosity or judgment, a grimace or a look of disdain or shockâŚ
She resisted the anxious urge to reach up and toy with the black velvet ribbon she wore around her neck. She forced herself to keep her hands at her sides, telling herself that it would be all right, whatever reaction the man had. Itâs not as if she was unused to gossip, after allâŚ
But Mr. Bhaerâs smile never faltered--in fact, he seemed even more pleased than ever by Jedâs words. âHow wonderful! It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Foster.â
Mrs. Foster. Even after all this time, nearly five years of marriage, it was still a thrill to hear herself addressed this way...almost as much of a thrill as it was to hear Jed call her his wife. Mary finally allowed herself to relax, and she returned Mr. Bhaerâs smile. âThe pleasure is mine, Mr. Bhaer,â she replied, holding out her hand. As he took it, she added in what she hoped was correct German, âPlease forgive my husband for not mentioning you before now.â
Mr. Bhaerâs grin, if possible, became even wider. âSie spricht Deutsch!âÂ
Mary chuckled. âYes, but I am quite out of practice, Iâm afraid, so youâll have to forgive any errors.â
âBut first,â Jed said softly, tilting his head in the direction of the fourth member of their little party. The young woman had begun to shift from foot to foot, although out of a feeling of awkwardness at being left out or impatience at her own lack of introduction, Mary could not say. She thought she saw Mr. Bhaerâs cheeks turn faintly pink with embarrassment, although it may have simply been the cold.
âOh! Of course! Meine Manierien, wo sind sie? Â Jed, Mrs. Foster, this is Miss Josephine March.â
Mary allowed herself to study the young woman more closely as she stepped forward. She was young, early twenties perhaps, but no older. She was tall as well, with intelligent, curious eyes that met Maryâs without a hint of shyness. âPleased to meet you both,â Miss March said, offering her hand to Mary to shake first. Her grip was strong and sure, and Mary decided that she liked her immediately.
Miss March shook Jedâs hand as well, and then glanced at Mr. Bhaer. âI hate to break up such a lovely reunion. We were just on our way to get something to eat--perhaps you and Mrs. Foster would like to join us?â She grinned suddenly âAnything to get out of this brutal wind. The two of you can catch up more inside.â
âThat sounds like a capital idea,â Jed agreed immediately. The young woman grinned brightly at his words, although Mary wasnât quite sure why. âWe were also on our way to dinner. I know a place that a friend recommended. Shall we?â
It was agreed, and the four of them set off, trying to catch up as best they could with the wind howling in their ears and the crowd around them. They found themselves in a cozy restaurant just as the first flakes of spring snow began to fall. Once orders had been taken, Mr. Bhaer asked them what had brought the pair of them to New York, and Mary explained that Jed was doing a lecture at the New York University College of Medicine in the morning.Â
âExcellent! A lecture about what, may I inquire?â
âOur work during the war,â Jed said, sounding somehow weary and fond at the same time. âWe met at a Union hospital in Alexandria.â
âYou worked at a hospital?â Miss March asked, her keen eyes looking at Mary with new interest. âAs a nurse?â
Mary smiled and nodded. âYes, I was the Head Nurse, for a time. Under the guidance of Dorothea Dix.â
âThatâs amazing! The nurses did such important work during the war. My father was with the Army for a time, and when he got sick, it was dreadful. My mother went to Washington to help care for him, but they both had such wonderful things to say about the nurses that were at his hospital. He wouldnât be here without them, thatâs what my father said.â
âIâm glad to hear that your father is still alive and well,â Jed told the young woman kindly. âWhich reminds me, I was so sorry to hear about your sister.â His eyes turned slightly sad, trained as they were on Friedrich. Beside her, Mary thought she saw Miss Marchâs posture stiffen. âI didnât hear the news until some time later, Iâm afraid, but I was sorry to hear of it. She was a remarkable young woman.â
Friedrich sighed, looking down into his cup for a moment. âThere is not a day that goes by that I do not miss Minna. But she left me two dear nephews, so sometimes it is like she is not so far away.â
Deciding that the conversation had become too personal, Mary decided to let the two men reminisce and catch up and turned to the youngest member of the party. Miss March had been occupying herself with playing with a loose thread on her cuff, but she looked up when she felt Maryâs gaze. âWe may have created a monster,â Mary joked gently. âI fear that now that theyâve started talking, they may never stop. Itâs rare to see Jed so...animated.â
âSame with the Professor,â Miss March agreed readily. âI was beginning to think he didnât have any friends outside Mrs. Kirkeâs boardinghouse.â
âIs that where the two of you met?â
Miss March nodded. âWe live there, although heâs been there much longer than I have. Heâs seeing to the education of his nephews, and putting some of his own studies on hold. Iâve recently taken on a job as tutor to Mrs. Kirkeâs daughters. Theyâre quite sweet, and New York is fascinating, but I do miss home sometimes.â
âWhere is home for you?â
âConcord, Massachusetts,â Miss March answered. Mary blinked in surprise, about to comment, but the young woman kept speaking. âMy elder sister Meg recently got married, you see, and my youngest sister is off in Europe with our aunt, and I...I decided that it was time for me to see some of the world as well. It was the perfect time to make a change.â
âWhy was that?â Mary asked, more curious than ever.
Miss March opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again as if thinking better of it. âI donât want to bore you. Weâve only just met.â
âMiss March, believe me when I say that my husband can talk for hours with your Professor. We have all the time in the world for you to tell me your story.â
#also thanks mercurygray for betaing this for me!#drabble prompt#jomiddlemarch#Mercy Street#Mercy street crossover#Jo March#Mary Phinney#Jed Foster#Friedrich Bhaer
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Pretender Reads A Little Hatred, Part I, Chapter Five
If anyone would like to publicly hang me for posting more frequently after months since the first read-through, feel free! Goes without saying spoilers ahead for the entirety of The First Law works beyond the keep reading. Read at your own risk.
Chapter Title:Â A Little Public Hanging Point-of-View: Crown Prince Orso
As a forewarning, I just want to say this: I hate privileged royal characters. I do, I really do! They always end up as some form of ineffectual, despite being in high positions, spoiled whiners who complain about how hard their lives are, despite having vastly more than the mud-and-shit-worked peasants they rule over, and refusing to actually change things for the better.Â
And, after a lifetime of reading about privileged royal twats as protagonists who complained about how hard their lives were, only to end up getting a heart for the peasantry later, but not actually rocking the boat too hard, in terms of changing their monarchies to something directly more beneficial, Iâm just kind of done with them?Â
That being said, Abercrombie wrote Jezal dan Luthar and I actually liked how he progressed, but at the same time, he wasnât royalty at the start. Just a noble prick who had to take some hard blows before he could grow the hell up. So, weâll see how this goes...
âI hate bloody hangings,â said Orso.
One of the whores tittered as if heâd cracked quite the joke. It was the falsest laugh he had ever heard, and when it came to false laughter, he was quite the connoisseur. Everyone was false in his presence, and he the worst actor of all.
âI guess you could stop it,â said Hildi. âIf you wanted.â
Orso frowned up at her, perched on the wall with her legs crossed and her chin propped on one palm.
âWell⌠I supposeâŚâ Strange how the idea had never occurred to him before. He pictured himself springing onto the scaffold, insisting these poor people be pardoned, ushering them back to their miserable lives to tearful thanks and rapturous applause. Then he sighed. âBut⌠one really shouldnât interfere with the workings of the judiciary.â
Lies, like everything that left his mouth, engineered to make him appear just a touch less detestable. He wondered who he was trying to fool. Hildi undoubtedly saw straight through it. The truth was, when it came to stopping this, as with so much else, he simply couldnât be arsed. He took another pinch of pearl dust, his heavy snorts ringing out as the Inquisitor in charge stepped to the front of the scaffold and the crowd fell breathlessly silent.
My, my, Orsoâs quite the charmer, isnât he. Just this apathetic mess who canât be bothered to act in any way real, even stop a hanging he doesnât like. Thereâs a pitiful quality to him, but not in a way that arouses sympathy or love to me, given how much privilege and power his position has, especially with how much he knows heâs a shit and can afford to get away with it as crown prince.
That being said, what strikes me about this opening is just how painfully self-depreciating Orsoâs voice is. To the noting of false laughter, to the knowledge that he knows heâs using his words to paint himself less awful to Hildi, to this feeling that she can see through how despicable he is (and he kind of is here!), one thing that contrasts him with a high screech against early Jezal and, more accurately, Crown Prince Ladisla, is that... Orso really doesnât buy into any hype of his. He knows heâs a shit person, everyone knows it, so why bother denying it to himself?
Hmmm. Iâm not entirely sure how to feel about this, self-awareness can cut both ways in terms of reader sympathy, but heâs no Ladisla so far. Heâs certainly an interesting contrast to Savine, the other Union voice, and Leo, the other male voice, so far. Heâs not particular fixated on public appearances, given the ease of doing drugs out in the open, and heâs not exactly a man of action either. Heâs just... kind of an inactive shit stuck in his privilege.
âThese threeâŚpeople,â and the Inquisitor swept an arm towards the chained convicts, each held under the armpit by a hooded executioner, âare members of the outlawed group known as the Breakers, convicted of High Treason against the Crown!â
âTreason!â someone screeched, then dissolved into coughing. It was a still day, so a bad one for the vapours. Not that there were many good days for the vapours lately, what with the new chimneys sprouting up all over Adua. People at the very back must have been struggling to see the scaffold through the murk.
âThey have been found guilty of setting fires and breaking machinery, of incitement to riot and sheltering fugitives from the kingâs justice! Have you anything to say?â
The first prisoner, a heavyset fellow with a beard, evidently did. âWeâre faithful subjects of His Majesty!â he bellowed in a heroâs voice, all manly bass and quivering passion. âAll we want is an honest wage for honest work!â
Huh, so the Breakers are effectively revolutionaries? Honestly, I canât really blame them for railing against their conditions. As weâve seen in Savineâs chapter, they live in some truly wretched environments. And all these passages prove is that is the new age of progress that Savineâs taking advantage is here to stay, and Orsoâs eyes are a necessary lens to see all the curses of it, whereas Savine would only see the Breakers and the vapours as the inevitable collateral damage of this new world where money is power.
âIâd sooner take a dishonest wage for no work at all,â grunted Tunny.
Yolk burst out laughing while swigging from his bottle and sprayed a reeking mist of spirits, which settled over the wig of a well-dressed old lady just in front.
Hey, Tunny and Yolk! Hi, you two surviving bastards! Playing to the hits, I see.
âYes.â Tunny showed his yellow grin and Orso winced. He hated it when Tunny used him to bully people. Almost as much as he hated hangings. But somehow he could never bring himself to stop either one.
(arches an eyebrow) Now, how did Tunny manage to get in close enough to the Crown Prince ever since serving in the war against Styria? And why get close to a Crown Prince to begin with? Is Tunny not afraid of the shitting falling on him once Orsoâs enemies angling to take him and his friends out?
And, by god, Tunnyâs turned into more of a shit than he originally was. I mean, given his appearance in Sharp Ends, Iâm not surprised, but never let it be said that Abercrombie lets up on the negative character development heâs famous for among his characters.
The side-whisker enthusiast had turned pale as a freshly laundered sheet, something Orso had not seen in some time. âYour Highness, I had no idea. Please accept myââ
âNo need.â Orso waved a lazy hand, wine-stained lace cuff flapping, and took another pinch of pearl dust. âI am a damn disgrace. Notoriously so.â He gave the man a reassuring pat on the shoulder, realised he had smeared dust all over his coat and tried ineffectually to brush it off. If Orso excelled at anything, after all, it was being ineffectual. âPlease donât concern yourself over my feelings. I donât have any.â Or so he often said. The truth was he sometimes felt he had too many. He was dragged so violently in a dozen different directions that he could not move at all.
Honestly, as much as I donât come out of this respecting Orso, I can relate to that last sentiment. Being so dragged apart by different responsibilities and obligations that you feel paralyzed by it. You canât move, you canât do anything.
That being said, Orso, youâre doing drugs while watching a hanging you can, theoretically, try to stop. Iâm not seeing where youâre being dragged apart here.
And there is so much apathy and self-depreciation in these passages, so much of Orso not getting angry or petty, not even for a power high considering Side-whiskers would be fine with however he reacted, which is so telling compared to the usual reactions of nobles. Thereâs no knee-jerk anger at being told off like Jezal or Ladisla or Vallimir or most others here. Orsoâs so inactive, he canât even summon up the typical petty retribution that nobles do.Â
Heâs a shit, but heâs a very different shit compared to the others, I feel.
âMajir?â
âYâowe Majir a hundred and fifty-one marks. Said she canât give you more credit.â
âSpizeria, then?â
âYâowe him three hundred and six. Same story.â
âHow the hell did that happen?â
Hildi gave Tunny, Yolk and the whores a significant glance. âYou want me to answer that?â
Orso racked his brains to think of someone else, then gave up. If he excelled at anything, after all, it was giving up. âFor pityâs sake, Hildi, everyone knows Iâm good for it. Iâll be coming into a considerable legacy one of these days.â No less than the Union, and everything in it, and all its unliftable weight of care, and impossible responsibility, and crushing expectation. He grimaced and tossed her the box.
Huh! The same Majir in Savineâs chapter? A neat note, but dang, Orso, who havenât you indebted yourself to at this point? So much privilege of never needing to mind oneâs personal purse. Though, youâd think Jezal wouldâve covered him or Terez, at least, told him to knock it off the frivolous spending, up to a point.
And thereâs that awareness again, knowing how much weight heâs going to be under once he stops being Crown Prince and starts being King of the Union, and, to put a pause on haranguing Orso for his inactivity and open apathy, the Circle of the World might be the only series where thereâs greater context to more justify a lack of feeling any agency among the royalty, given how Bayazâs set it up and how much Jezal is ultimately a prisoner to his status, though Orso doesnât know how bad itâll get.
Kind of hard to do anything when stepping out of line means an âaccident.â
âYou owe me nine marks,â she muttered.
âShoo!â Orso tried to wave her away, got his little finger painfully tangled in his cuff and had to rip it free. âJust get it done!â
She gave a long-suffering sigh, jammed that ancient soldierâs cap down over her blonde curls and stepped off into the crowd.
âSheâs a funny little thing, your errand girl,â warbled one of the whores, dragging too heavily on his arm.
âSheâs my valet,â said Orso, frowning, âand sheâs a fucking treasure.â
Awww, is it wrong this made me like Orso more? If he drags himself, he elevates others as well. And heâs right, Hildiâs a damn treasure and itâs still kind of amazing a prince allows his inner circle to be contrary to him, mouthing off to him and using him in their petty power plays like with Tunny and Side-whiskers earlier.Â
Itâs like he has so little regard for himself, that thereâs room for him to think so much better of others.
On the scaffold, meanwhile, the bearded man was bellowing out the Breakersâ manifesto with ever more emotion. The noise from the crowd was growing but, much to the upset of the Inquisitor, he was starting to strike a chord. Calls of support were breaking through the mockery.
âNo more machines!â the bearded man roared, veins bulging in his thick neck. âNo more seizure of common land!â
He seemed a useful fellow. More useful than Orso, certainly. âWhat a bloody waste,â he muttered.
This is reminding me of when Last Argument of Kings had the Tanner plotline and how much the peasantry rebelled then. Except thematically... this feels different. That rebellion was an orchestrated farce at the head of it in the end, but this feels more... real.
Orso, especially stuck in his self-depreciation, can see the validity of the people involved with the movement, and see the waste of killing a good man. Yet, heâll still let him die because his station is built upon on culling the dissidents of royalty, hence why the Inquisition are doing this.
He might believe it a waste, hell, I think he genuinely does, but ultimately, without acting, all those thoughts? Empty gestures and sighs, full of pity, Orso.
It was a riddle. This man, born with no advantages, believed in something so much he was willing to die for it. Orso, born with everything, could scarcely make himself get out of bed of a morning. Or, indeed, an afternoon.
âBed is warm, though,â he murmured.
Well, thatâs just the thing. The privileged, with their inherited wealth, donât have to work to preserve it and their privileges. Theyâve known no other life beyond it and have grown accustomed to their degree of luxury. Their wealth and privilege allows them to live as comfortably as possible, and the human lives exploited and squeezed out of their use? Theyâre less a consideration to the immediate pleasures of the privileges of those in high places.Â
Comfort and pleasure can blind you, because too much of them can close you off to the pain and anguish of others, if your luxurious life is dependent on the suffering of others. Itâs only when you have skin in the game that you learn to fight for something until the bitter end, because you donât have any luxury to fall back on when youâre knee-deep in the shit. A worldâs difference between that Breaker and Orso, between those with losing and winning hands.
Rather than needing strong men or horses to haul up the condemned, some enterprising fellow had devised a system whereby prisoners could be dropped through the scaffold floor at a touch upon a lever. There was an invention to make everything more efficient these days, after all. Why would killing people be an exception?
(snorts) Done in a new way, indeed.
âDamn it,â muttered Orso, working a finger into his collar. There was nothing even faintly satisfying in this. Even if these people really were enemies of the state, they hardly looked like very dangerous ones.
In some ways, this is a shockingly naive thought in the Circle of the World. Plenty of otherwise harmless-looking or quiet people can turn out your most dangerous and ruthless enemies in this world, as Logen would point out. But, at the same time... this is still an acknowledgment of all this being wrong. Orsoâs problem isnât that he doesnât know right or wrong, itâs that he canât be bothered to do anything about it, and that damns him, given he, out of everyone there, could stop it. Could, at least, try! And doesnât!
The next in line to receive the kingâs justice was a girl who might not yet have been sixteen. Her eyes, wide in bruised sockets, flickered from the open trapdoor to the Inquisitor as he stepped towards her. âHave you anything to say?â
She appeared hardly to comprehend. Orso found himself wishing the vapours were thicker, and that he could not see her face at all.
âPlease,â said the man beside her. There were tears streaking his dirty cheeks. âTake me but, pleaseââ
Oof. I canât say Iâm surprised, considering Westâs chapter at the Angland camp noting the Inquisition takes children in, but seeing it still punches me in the heart. And that man, just begging for leniency to that girl, for himself...
And Orso, wishing he didnât have to see her face, in order not to feel the guilt burning in him. At staying his hand. Because looking at someoneâs eyes beforehand makes it all the harder to say they deserved to die.
Orso gritted his as he looked to the scaffold. Hildi had been right, he could stop this. If not him, who? If not now, when?
There was some problem with the girlâs noose, the Inquisitor hissing furiously at one of the executioners as he dragged his hood up over his sweaty face to peer at the knots.
Orso was just about to step forward. Was just about to roar, Stop!
On a purely realistic note, I kind of wonder what would have happened, had Orso acted? Gloktaâs not there, nor is Bayaz, and it can be agreed-upon the public masses that the royalty of the Union still holds the power over there. So, ultimately, it depends on whether Orso would buckle to the Inquisitors there, them telling him that the Breakers are traitors and deserve no quarter with him conceding in the end, or if he could argue that children have done no crime worth execution? In truth, the Inquisition are the real power, given Arch Lector Glokta, but at the same time, publicly undercutting the royalty might be more trouble than Orso undercutting the Inquisition, who nominally serve under him.
In short, itâs entirely possible he couldâve, at least, saved the girl, just like Jezal protected Brockâs children against his Closed Council once:
âThere will be no hangings.â The king was frowning levelly at Bayaz.
Hoff blinked. âBut your Majesty, you cannot allowââ
âThere has been enough bloodshed. Far more than enough. Release Lord Brockâs children.â
Last Argument of Kings, Patriotic Duties
(Sobs at father/son connections)
In all honesty, if weâre talking echoes of the first trilogy, thereâs a lot of later-Jezal in Orso, the self-depreciating man who was more painfully aware of how out-of-depth he was as king, except the self-depreciation is far more pointed in Orsoâs case, Orsoâs voice is choked full of it, so much so that itâs a miasma of disregard to himself. Not undeserved, considering how little heâs doing now, but itâs definitely a notable quality. On a structural level, I canât help, but read a certain Crown Prince Ladisla in Orso, except, instead of just a punchline, thereâs an actual character in this useless prince, and enough self-aware and want to do the right thing...
... Yet, Orso doesnât.
But circumstances always conspired to stop him doing the right thing. He heard a soft, high voice in his ear. âYour Highness.â
Orso turned to see the broad, flat and decidedly unwelcome face of Bremer dan Gorst at his shoulder.
HEY, GORST THE WORST! Howâre ya doing? :D Still the King's First Guard? Of course you are! Also still being a depressed, self-pitying murderous incel? That too, most like!Â
Gods, I wonder if heâs still fixated on Finree, after all these years...
âThe queen has sent for you,â piped Gorst.
Orso blew out through his pursed lips to make a long farting sound. âHasnât she better things to do?â
Oh, SNAP! Weâre getting Terez this early? My, my, Iâm certainly interested in seeing her again, after how Abercrombie dropped the ball with her the first trilogy.
Orso turned away without much reluctance. He hated bloody hangings, but the girls had wanted to go and he hated disappointing people, too. As a result of which, it seemed, he disappointed everyone. At his back, there was that strange sound between gasp and cheer as the next trapdoor dropped open.
Disappointing me as well. Damn it, Orso. Nothing was stopping you from stopping the girlâs execution, at least, and then going to your mother right after. But no, you took the easy excuse of needing to be with your mother, instead of the hard choice of standing for whatâs right.
Another thing Abercrombie relies on? The anti-climax, the thwarting of expectations on a chapter and series scale, I knew it as one of his writing tools going in, and I still fell for it, hoping Orso would do something useful, anything useful and stop the excessive execution of a child. I suppose I have no one to blame but myself, given even Orsoâs expressed what a useless shit he is, but...
Oh, Orso, Orso, Orso. What am I to do with you?
Orso tossed his hat onto the bald head of a bust of Bayaz, congratulating himself that it came to rest on the legendary wizard at a pleasingly rakish angle.
Huh, I do wonder how a meeting between Orso and Bayaz would go down. Bayazâs inevitable to come visit the Union at some point in this trilogy, especially if Jezal croaks in the middle of it (the Breakers would serve as an abject reason for murdering the king, given the allusions to the French Revolution). Orso hardly seem to be made of sterner stuff, even more than his father, who wasnât exactly a lion deep down... but at the same time, thatâs expected, isnât it?Â
Who are you, Orso, beyond a self-aware fool I canât respect, and pity without sympathy?
The tapping of his boot heels echoed in the vast spaces of the salon as he crossed a sea of gleaming tiles to the tiny island of furniture in its centre. The High Queen of the Union sat fearsomely erect there, dripping with diamonds, growing out of the chaise like a spectacular orchid from a gilded pot. It hardly needed to be said that heâd known her his whole life, but the sheer regality of the woman still took him aback every time.
You know, I was expecting this, but wow. Weâre really getting Terez, huh! Looking the picture-perfect example of royalty.
Also, I got to love that fearsomely. Lovely detail to capture how Orso feels about his mother.
âMother,â he said, in Styrian. Using the tongue of the country they actually ruled only aggravated her, and he knew from long experience that aggravating Queen Terez was never, ever worth it. âI was just on my way to visit when Gorst found me.â
âYou must take me for a rare kind of fool,â she said, angling her face towards him.
âNo, no.â He bent to brush one heavily powdered cheek with his lips. âJust the usual kind.â
âReally, Orso, your accent has become appalling.â
âWell, now that Styria is almost entirely controlled by our enemies, I get so little chance to practice.â
As an immigrant child, someone born away from my current home, I canât entirely relate to this... but I know my parents suffered a great deal of cultural diaspora when they came to where we currently live. And, when my brother and I could, we would speak Chinese because it was part of our parentsâ culture. Iâm not particularly good at it, but I know enough to make my parentsâ lives more convenient instead of speaking a language theyâre less comfortable with.Â
I say all this to say? I completely get where Terezâs coming from. She was effectively sold off from her father to a foreign country to accumulate more of his power and sheâs adrift from her original culture and home and just wants to keep as much as possible. And itâs honestly such a neat detail from a character who was given the short shrift in the first trilogy, writing-wise. I can already tell thereâs a greater sense of detail attended to her this time.
The royal bosom, constrained by corsetry that was a feat of engineering to rival any wonder of the new age, inflated majestically as the queen sighed. âPeople expect a certain amount of indolence in a Crown Prince. It was quite winning when you were seventeen. At twenty-two, it began to become tiresome. At twenty-seven, it looks positively desperate.â
(looks at Crown Prince Ladisla) Different sort of man, yet, the same disappointment. I come back to the Prince Ladisla comparison because the way theyâre written feels so different, despite occupying a similar useless royal twat archetype. Prince Ladisla completely bought into himself being the best thing since sliced bread, full of illusions of himself as a great general in his head. Crown Prince Orso, though? If anything, he suffers from the opposite problem: so thoroughly disillusioned of himself that he feels he canât do anything. Theyâre both privileged, useless, royal twat archetypes, but how their uselessness is expressed is the difference between day and night.
âYou have no idea, Mother.â Orso dropped into a chair so savagely uncomfortable it was like being punched in the arse. âI have long been thoroughly ashamed of myself.â
âYou could try doing something to be proud of. Have you considered that?â
âIâve spent whole days considering it.â He frowned discerningly through the wine as he held it up to the light from the giant windows. âBut doing it really feels like such a lot of effort.â
This feels similar to the Finree/Leo dynamic, except where that mother was exasperated at her sonâs inability to do anything but act, Terez takes issue with how much Orso will do anything but act. A true man of inaction against Leoâs man of action.
Also, âlong been thoroughly ashamedâ? How long as this been happening for Orso, then? Terez did mention that he was like this since seventeen, but... why? I mean, as Terez says, you could try doing something. Like, um, stopping an execution? Orso? Hello?
âFrankly, your father could use your support. He is a weak man, Orso.â
âSo you never tire of telling him.â
âAnd these are difficult times. The last war did⌠not end well.â
âIt ended pretty well if youâre King Jappo of Styria.â
His mother pronounced each word with icy precision. âWhich you⌠areâŚnot.â
âSadly, for all concerned.â
âYou are King Jappoâs mortal enemy and the rightful heir to all he and the thrice-damned Snake of Talins have stolen, and it is high time you took your position seriously! We have enemies everywhere. Inside our borders, too.â
Well. That answers one question about Jezal and Terez. Though, honestly, I expected as much, given those grisly circumstances. (grimaces)
Also, snrrrk. Terez, Orso barely has the energy to do the right thing for a girl, what makes you think he has the energy to take up a mortal enemy he never asked for?
Also, calling it now: Orso and Jappo are totally going to meet eventually in this trilogy and get along because they can share in their mutual burdens of dominating mothers.
âThen I trust you come to me in a receptive mood.â Orsoâs mother gave two sharp claps and Lord Chamberlain Hoff strutted in. With waistcoat bulging around his belly and legs stick-like in tight breeches, he looked like nothing so much as a prize rooster jealously patrolling the farmyard.
âYour Majesty.â He bowed so low to the queen, he virtually buffed the tiles with his nose. âYour Highness.â He bowed just as low to Orso but in a manner that somehow expressed boundless contempt. Or perhaps Orso only saw his own contempt for himself reflected in that obsequious smile. âI have positively scoured the entire Circle of the World for the most eligible candidates. Dare one suggest that the future High Queen of the Union waits among them?â
HEY, Hoff! You piece of utter shit! Howâve you been?
(stares before wincing) Well, that feels familiar... though, I imagine thereâs just some genuine contempt, considering that youâre not exactly the model of princely behavior.
Well, not good princely behavior.
âOh, good grief.â Orso let his head drop back, staring up towards the beautifully painted ceiling of the peoples of the world kneeling before a golden sun. âThe parade again?â
âEnsuring the succession is not a joke,â pronounced his mother.
âNot a funny one, anyway.â
âDonât be facetious, Orso. Your sisters both did their dynastic duty. Do you suppose Cathil wanted to move to Starikland?â
âSheâs an inspiration.â
âDo you think Carlot wanted to marry the Chancellor of Sipani?â
Actually, she had been delighted by the idea, but Orsoâs mother loved to imagine everyone sacrificing all on the altar of duty, the way she was always telling them she had. âOf course not, Mother.â
Cathil? Carlot? What the... who named them? Orso makes me think Terez got to name the sons (oh geez, I just realized Crown Prince Orso was still a child when Duke Orso got killed, what a bad omen) and Cathil and Carlot... did Jezal name them? Where did he get those names? Now Iâm wondering Jezal asking Glokta for advice on names, and Glokta asking Pike for another name for the daughter after the first one.
Either that or Cathil and Carlot are common Union names, maybe, but just imagine the awkwardness of that naming discussion between Jezal and Glokta.
Also, STARIKLAND? Where Conthus and Carlot are? Oh dear...
What strikes me about this is the idea that Orso and Carlot were close enough that he knew that she was delighted at the arrangement between her and the Chancellor of Sipani. Itâs just a nugget, but it helps make Orso a little more palatable.
Also, as much as I really dislike the guilt-tripping from Terez here... thereâs a sad reality that she was sacrificed for her fatherâs power. Whether he knew she was a lesbian or not is immaterial, he couldâve arranged her a match she actually liked and straight-up didnât care enough to, only thinking that she wouldâve whined, had he offered Euz, instead of simply a king.Â
âLady Sithrin dan Harnveld,â announced the lord chamberlain.
Orso sank lower into his chair. âDo I really want a wife who measures the distance from her chin to her tits in miles?â
âArtistic licence, Your Highness,â explained Hoff.
âCall it art, you can get away with anything.â
HA! I have a few artistic friends, and have seen enough artists justify wonky perspective or anatomy, that this is endlessly amusing to me.
Honestly, Orsoâs got a few good zingers here. Thatâs another good part about this chapter here: heâs funny in a way Rikke and Leo, or even Savine, arenât, despite the darkness of the initial half. A lot of his quips undercut a good chunk of the darkness there. Not enough that the reality doesnât sink in, but enough that it doesnât choke us with the misery of child execution.
âThe Countess Istarine of Affoia is a proven politician, and would bring us valuable allies in Styria.â
âFrom the looks of her, sheâs more likely to bring me a dose of the cock-rot.â
âI had imagined you would be immune from constant exposure,â observed the queen, waving the portrait away with an exquisite flourish of her fingers.
Snrrrrk. Dang, even Terezâs got some good zingers here. This back-and-forth is delightfully fun.
And so it went, as Orso marked the turning of morning into afternoon by the steadily decreasing level of wine in the decanter, and dismissed the flower of womanhood, one by one.
âHow could I abide a wife taller than me?â
âSheâs a worse drunk than I am.â
âAt least we know sheâs fertile, sheâs borne two bastards that I know about.â
âIs that a nose on her face or a prick?â
He almost wished he was back at the hanging. That, he could theoretically have stopped. Over his mother, he was utterly powerless. His only chance was to wait her out. There were a finite number of women in the Circle of the World, after all.
Yeaaaaaaaah, Orso might be a shit person, but dang, this part of him is oodles of fun, a delightful wry awareness. Though, dang, some of these are pretty damn petty complaints, all things considering.
âFinished?â asked Orso. âNo portrait of Savine dan Glokta lurking in the hallway?â
(feels a chill in his spine) Oh god, no, Orso.
No, just no. Please donât. Iâm serious. Donât fuck your half-sister!
On a less horrified note, is that why he gave those petty complaints and denials to those women? Because he has his heart set on Savine? Which, I mean, all the power to you, Orso, but itâs Savine. Putting aside the incest angle that you donât know about, itâs Savine.
Even at this distance, he felt the chill of the queenâs displeasure. âFor pityâs sake, her mother is a low-born boor, and a drunk to boot.â
âBut an absolute scream at parties, and whatever you say for Lady Ardee, Arch Lector Glokta has the peopleâs respect. Or at any rate their abject terror.â
âA crippled worm,â spat the queen. âA torturer!â
âBut our torturer, eh, Mother? Our torturer. And I understand his daughter has made herself quite spectacularly rich.â
I 100% do not blame Terez for being so visceral against Glokta. What he did to her the first trilogy is some abjectly ghastly shit. I will never hold that against her. Though, you really have to be a classist shit to Ardee, Terez?
That being said, whatever happened to Shalere? Sheâs not attending to Terez and she was particularly joined at the hip with Terez back in Last Argument of Kings, so... was she killed? I noticed Orso didnât mention a brother, or did Glokta take mercy on Terez and Shalere after the former sired Orso, Cathil, and Carlot, and Terez told her lover to get out of dodge to protect her? Thatâs... just even more sad and lonely for Terez.
Also, huh, Ardee goes out to parties and living the high life? Good for her, I guess she doesnât just stay home all the time, like Savineâs chapter implies. At least thatâs some levity from the misery of loneliness.
âMoney made through trade, and dealings, and investments.â The queen spat the words as though they were criminal enterprises. For all Orso knew, Savineâs dealings were criminal enterprises. He wouldnât at all have put it past her.
âOh, come now, money shamefully made from trade fills the same holes in the treasury as the kind nobly wrung from the misery of the peasantry.â
âShe is too old! You are too old, and she is even older than you are.â
âBut she has impeccable manners and is still quite the celebrated beauty.â He waved a loose hand towards the doorway. âSheâd make a prettier portrait than any of those piglets, and the painter wouldnât even have to lie. Queen Savine sounds rather well.â He gave a chuckle. âIt even rhymes.â
Iâve said plenty about Orsoâs inactivity and his shittiness for that, but heâs certainly got a brain to him, and enough understanding and no class illusions to realize that moneyâs money, no matter where it comes from.Â
Honestly, itâs a little refreshing, how much Orso isnât the usual privileged royal twat, characterization-wise.
Also, huh! Good to know how to pronounce Savineâs name! Now, I sort of wish I knew how to pronounce your name, Orso, ya fop.
âPromise me you will have nothing to do with that ambitious worm of a woman.â
âWith Savine dan Glokta?â Orso sat back with a bemused expression. âHer motherâs a commoner, her fatherâs a torturer and she made her money from business.â He shook the last drops from the decanter into his glass. âQuite apart from which, really, sheâs far too bloody old.â
âOh,â he gasped. âOh! Oh fuck!â
He arched his back, clutched desperately at the edge of the desk, kicked a pot of pens onto the floor, smacked his head against the wall and sent a little shower of plaster across his shoulders. He tried desperately to squirm away, but she had him by the balls. Quite literally.
He crushed his face up, nearly swallowed his tongue, coughed and hissed one more desperate, âFuck!â through gritted teeth, then sagged back with a whimper, kicked and sagged again, legs shuddering weakly with aching after-spasms.
âFuck,â he breathed.
(bursts into laughter)Â HAHAHAHAHAHAHA HOLY SHIT! (continues howling in laughter) Oh my god, Orso!!! (descends into a strangled sort of laughter now) Wow, Orso, just wow... hahahahaha (putters in tiny, almost choked snickers) ... hahahaha...
... Shit, this is kind of bad, isnât it. Guys, what the fuck.
Orso watched his seed float around in the wine. âThat⌠is somewhat disgusting.â
âPlease.â Savine rinsed her mouth out from the other glass. âYou only have to look at it.â
âSuch cavalier disrespect. One day, madam, I shall be your king!â
âAnd your queen will no doubt spit your come into a golden box to be shared out on holidays for the public good. My congratulations to you both, Your Highness.â
He gave vent to a silly giggle. âWhy does someone as altogether perfect as you waste her energy on a dolt like me?â
Snrrrk, gods, this chapter really be a ton of fun, given how much Orsoâs matching up against people his fencing level. Brings out the best in everyone, dialogue-wise.
And it doesnât pass my notice that when Orso says the usual entitled and typical âI shall be your kingâ remark, just like Ladisla towards Cathil in Before They Are Hanged, Orso is clearly saying it in jest and lets the retorting quip pass with a giggle. Thereâs so much of Orso that feels like an intentional course-correction of that particular fantasy archetype, a forceful zag where Ladisla zigged.
She pushed out her lips discerningly, as though considering the mystery, and for a strange, stupid moment he almost asked her. The words tickled at his lips. There was no one better suited to him. She had all the qualities he wished he had. So sharp. So disciplined. So decisive. Besides, it would have been worth it just for the look on his motherâs face. He almost asked her.
But circumstances always conspired to stop him doing the right thing.
âI can only think of one reason,â she said, hitching her skirts up and wriggling onto the desk beside him.
Oh, Orso. Youâre a bit of a coward and even more of a fool than I thought if you donât see the reality that sheâs only after you for your impending kingship. The writingâs on the wall here, and youâre refusing to see it because you think Savineâs just the best (I suppose not incorrect in most aspect aside from morality).
âGet to it, then.â
âYou really are in no mood for romance today, are you?â
She slid her fingers into his hair, then twisted his head somewhat painfully down between her legs. âMy time is valuable.â
âThe naked gall.â Orso gave a sigh as he hooked her leg over his shoulder, sliding his hand down the bare skin, hearing her gasp, feeling her shudder. He kissed gently at her shin, at her knee, at her thigh. âIs there no end to the demands of oneâs subjects?â
This ending and this entire sex scene really does illuminate a lot of things, like the actual Savine/Orso dynamic (sub male and dom woman), how gentle and passive-compared-to-Savine Orso is as a lover, how clever he can be with words during intimacy, and... how much Orso feels so worthless, he feels he need the best to complete him, no matter how much she might be using him for her own gains. I shake my head at this, not even taking into account the incest quality, but... thereâs a sadder register to it.
As a chapter, this does set up quite a few details, like the ills of the new age, and the Breakers thatâll resist this to the point of death, the Savine/Orso affair, and Orsoâs (really) apathetic and self-depreciating character. Orsoâs asides manage to undercut quite a bit of the darkness of the chapterâs first half, where Orsoâs inaction is condemned by even himself, and the second half is where it crackles with dialogue and fencing between more equal opponents, unlike Savineâs punching down against random putzes. Itâs not quite as self-contained as Where the Fightâs Hottest, but itâs more fun than all the prior chapters so far.
As a character... honestly, Orso fascinates me in a way only Rikke also does for me. I wonât exactly say heâs more interesting than Savine at this point, but he makes for an interesting contrast to Leo as a man of inaction. Self-aware, yet useless, Orsoâs kind of a huge mess and a privileged shit in a way that I should hate, and, yeah, I donât particularly think it says great things that he still let the executions happen (at the very least, he couldâve tried to save the girl!), but... heâs a shit in a way thatâs so different from most other privileged royal twats. A man who knows himself for the useless prince and just internalizes it as deep as the pearl dust he snorts. In some ways, the self-awareness damns him, because he knows heâs useless and doesnât try for better or not being useless, but, at the same time, heâs not unintelligent, has no illusions about himself, and is certainly a sort of fun character, if blatantly aware of how trashy he is.Â
I kind of wonder where Abercrombieâs going to take Orso, because heâs really fascinating as a character construct, a fantasy archetype given this modernized wry self-awareness, the privileged royal twat who has no illusions of his station and what a shit he is.
PART I
Chapter One: Blessings and Curses Chapter Two: Where the Fightâs Hottest Chapter Three: Guilt Is a Luxury Chapter Four: Keeping Score Chapter Five: Â A Little Public Hanging Chapter Six: The Breakers Chapter Seven: The Answer to Your Tears Chapter Eight: Young Heroes Chapter Nine: The Moment
#a little hatred#a little hatred spoilers#the age of madness#the first law#joe abercrombie#crown prince orso#a little hatred part I
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A Moment of Fiery Bliss
Fandom: Far Cry 5
Wordcount: 1939
Characters: Female Deputy. Sharky Boshaw. Sheriff Earl Whitehorse
Pairing: Sharky x Female Deputy and some Deputy/Whitehorse friendship
Summary: The deputy has had a rough time, but the last time with the Bliss really shook her. Hopeâs County without it was one thing, but with it? That scared the shit out of her. Two men comfort her at the Jail, however the outcomes are vastly different.
Rating: T? It stops before the Lemons.Â
Warnings: Swearing, dominance (however there is consent)
So I havenât written lemons before for fanfiction and when I have written it for RPGâs that was some years ago. So I couldnât get past the end bit, so I wrote a little line to finish it and basically left it up in wind for what happens next.
Today had been an especially rough day, first waking up after my latest trip in the Bliss. And then dealing with more of the a-holes known as Peggies. However, currently I was outside the jail, at the back where I'd normally only see one or two people. It was there that I let myself just have a moment to myself. One of the few places I could have a moment practically to myself.
I was so far away I didn't even notice when the Sheriff leaned himself against the wall beside me.
"You okay Rook?"
Blinking several times to shake away the metaphorical cobwebs in my mind, I turned my head partially to the side so I could see him more clearly. "I'm fine." But after a moment I shook my head answering this time more truthfully than the last, "Actually I'm not. All this with Eden's Gate is really fucked up without the Bliss. But with it? I don't know what to call it. All I know is it scares the shit out of me."
Feeling my hands shaking a little I clenched them into fists, jumping when a rough hand held them.
"You don't have to be strong all the time Rook. You're as human as the rest of us. Even if we sometimes forget that you're not invincible."
A harsh laugh escapes ne before I can stop it but once it's out tears begin to sting the corner of my eyes, " I don't feel very human anymore." Wiping my eyes I turn fully to him. "But thank you. It means a lot hearing you say that."
He watches me for a moment before he steps closer and brings me into a hug.
Then I told him something I hadnât told anyone, "You know what? I use to be such a hugger before all this. Yet this is my first hug since all this started." I love hugs so it was a shock to realise I hadn't had one in so long.
The hug lasted a few minutes before I pulled back, my face nearly as red as the highlights in my hair. He brought a hand to my face, his smile and his eyes showing true kindness. "If you ever need another, I'm always here for you Rook. I hope you know that."
I nodded, "Thank you."
"No, thank you Rook."
I made to go past him but as I did I squeezed his shoulder in another way of showing my appreciation. I hadn't realised how much I needed a hug until today. Itâs nice thinking of how something so simple can improve so much. But sad when you think back on your last one and realise it was much too long ago.
But as I got past him and closer to the chain link fence my face began turning even more red at the sight of Sharky leaning against the wall near the chain linked gate locking this area from the rest.
He fell into step beside me as I wondered how much he saw, walking around the jail we eventually went into one of the less used rooms of the jail. The one I had sort of claimed once realising no one was using it. In fact since I started using it, I think no one else did. I would likely have to ask the Sheriff about it at some time, as after that hug I kind of get the feeling he may have claimed it as mine.Â
Hell I had even tidied it up a little. More than I can say about other places Iâve crashed at since this shit began. Looking out at the back, I noticed the Sheriff had left. Dropping my bag to the floor, the echoing thud telling me that Sharky had put down his things as well.
"You ain't hugged me like that."
I couldn't help the smile that lit up my face. "You haven't offered either I should remind you." I bumped his shoulder with mine, "Anyway you haven't left me yet or looked like you needed one. Otherwise I would have offered. I love hugs." And I vowed to give more of them as my mood had vastly improved since the warm hug from Earl Whitehorse.
Without warning I had another pair of arms wrapped around me. This time from behind an oof of air leaving me. I turned my face to look at this handsome fool. His big goofy grin infectious.
The way he was hugging me felt much more intimate than the one with Whitehorse. One of my arms rested on the two around my middle. My fingers automatically stroking the skin there. Tracing the flames on his right arm.Â
My other hand slowly coming up and absentmindedly reaching for his face. Gulping when I realised what I am doing, just as I was about to lower the offending appendage he leans his head to the side closing the distance between my fingers and his cheek.
I was frozen as I watched him lean closer to me, those warm eyes darting down. "I want to kiss you." My eyes widening at his admission, "wanted to since I saw you punch that blissed up fuck that snuck behind me."
That had been the day we met. "And darlin' that voice of yoursâŚ" trailing off as he looked down once more.
My breath hitched in my voice as I admit, "I want you to kiss me." But I don't get further than that, I don't get to tell him that his voice was as fiery as the flames that came from his weapon of choice. Or that he radiated a warmth I didn't want to be without. That it was his presence that got me through the day. Got me through being in Hope's County.
I didnât get to say any of this because my breath was taken away as his lips brushed against my own. The heat I had felt before returning ten fold, my whole body now feeling like it was on fire. One of his hands rising up to hold the side of my face fingers curling at the back of my neck.
Suddenly he turned me around and backed me up against the wall, his hands now trailing up my body, leaving fiery trails in their wake. Out of breath as the kiss ends, one of his hands now playing with the hem of my shirt. Fingers brushing the skin there causing shivers to run up and down my spine.
I was feeling very warm, my brain logging away this memory in the deepest darkest vaults of my mind where no one could touch it but I. Just in case this was it. As surely he noticed? My lack of experience in such matters that is. I hadn't been in a relationship in years well before training to become a Deputy and even then it hadn't lasted long enough to gain much experience with kissing and the like.
Or maybe he did realise and wasnât bothered, either way the look in his eyes made those doubts eb away like sand in the wind.
His other hand raised up and stroked my face, thumb tracing my lower lip. Acting on pure instinct I pressed them against it, eyes dilating as I catch his. His rough skin sending more shivers down my back. Before my hands reached for his hooded sweatshirt and dragged him closer again, finally pressing my lips against his once more.
Maybe it was the added tension since meeting him, or being physically attracted to the people I was supposed to be stopping. Or just the whole mess I was in since arriving at that church. But I wanted to finally do something for me. So kissing Sharky? That was definitely that. Especially since I realised how much he meant to me. If something came of this, that would be fine. But it would also be fine if nothing came of this. Or after it.Â
When the kiss ended I was out of breath, chest heaving as I tried to bring air back to my lungs.
âFuck.â Blinking as I realise I wasnât the only one to say it, smiling at him as he brushed a strand of hair from my face.Â
His hand then fell to my neck, stroking the skin there. Smirking when he realises what it's doing to me. Being this close it wasn't hard for him to notice what got reactions and what didn't. Heck I wasn't even sure I knew what I did or didn't like.
The previous guy hadn't been very attentive, likely one of the reasons I had focussed on my career instead of physical or emotional attachments after him.
Sharky? He was taking everything in. From the way my lips parted, the little sounds I made and what caused my body to shiver in pleasure and anticipation for more.
Biting my lip as he brought his mouth to my neck. His hands now wandering lower until they were again at the hem of my top. This time he didn't stop there, his hands trailing under and gripping my hip with one as the other explored further up.
My right leg raising up and hooking around his, head tilting to give him more access. Just for him to stop, my mouth opening in silent protest. Stopping short as he pulls both his hoodie and tshirt off in one swift motion. Leaving my eyes to take in all the skin I could see. Fingers coming up to touch him, however I was thwarted as he took my hands with a slight shake of his head. Raising them above my own when he got a nod of accepatance from me.
He knew exactly what he was doing to me. But it was this action that made me realise he had listened even to the little bits of information I gave him about myself.
The idea that he had heard me the other day after he said I was fiercely dominant, that I had replied with in a joke but truthful manner that maybe that was why the idea of someone else being in control was hot as hell.
Yet when his hands came back to my shirt when he realised I was listening to him and not trying to touch him again there was the question in his eyes. Then he said something I wasnât actually expecting him to say but all the same really appreciated. "We can stop if you want." The thoughtfulness brought a smile to my face.
I leaned forward stroking his face as I kissed him. "I want this Sharky. So please don't stop."
He gulped eyes darkening further, hands bringing me into another toe curling kiss. The kiss only breaking as my top joined his on the floor. Lips brushing against lips, hands brushing against skin in their eagerness for exploration.
A click of a bra as it joins the rest of the clothes. Completely bare chests pressed against the other as the kiss deepens further. The previous hot rhythm matching each other once more.
All thoughts of the outside world leaving as his mouth now explores the newly exposed skin. Goosebumps the only other sign of pleasure other than the dilated pupils, the mouth open in silent moans, and the head tilted back in ecstasy.
My chest heaving with every breath. This was exactly what I wanted, he was everything that I wanted. And right now? This was perfect. If only the storm would remain stagnant and we could both be stuck in this moment. The calm before the storm.
#sharky boshaw#sharky x deputy#far cry 5#fc5#fc5 fanfic#padme4000writes#sharky boshaw x deputy#lemon#lemon-ish#stops before actual lemons#Rating: M#Mature
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