#oh sorry for literally carrying whole generations and being always forgotten

[angstigone]

ngl I kind of ignored arnheid's storyline but I am so glad that we got her prospect on the war because I feel like it's something that's often forgotten and I am always happy when it gets brought up (although it's oftentimes awful)

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 18

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 18

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4326

Summary: Dean gets a better sense of what Sam and the reader’s new life is like.

Warnings: FLUFF, swearing

           Barbie opens the door with an honest to god plate of pigs in a blanket as though she just had them going and you have to remind yourself you’re in a dream. “What a nice surprise! Come in, come in. And who’s this?” she asks, hugging Sam with one arm while holding onto the plate and offering for you to take one. It’s as buttery and salty as you ever could’ve hoped.

           “This is, uh, this is my brother Dean.”

           “Well hello, Dean! What a handsome pair you two are.” She offers the plate to the brothers. Dean grabs two with a pincher, tossing both in his mouth. Sam politely takes one as Barbie yells over her shoulder. “Mike, we have company!” She motions for you three to follow her into the house and Sam has to practically clothesline his brother to get him to take his shoes off before he trails blindly after the plate full of sausage.

           Mike stands up from one of those leather armchairs, folding back the magazine he’s reading to greet Sam with a bear hug. “This is my brother Dean,” Sam offers as Mike hugs you with decidedly gentler back pats than he had for Sam. Dean holds his hand out as if to shake but Mike curves his big paws around Dean’s shoulders and pulls him in for a hug with enough force that Dean almost falls into him.

           “You didn’t say anything about a brother!” he bellows to Sam over Dean’s shoulder.

           Sam and you both freeze, and you can only speak for yourself but you suspect Sam is also worried Dean will be upset to hear that. Instead, finally released from Mike’s binding embrace, Dean rocks back to holding up his own weight with a big smile. “Crazy private, these two, right? You’d think they were in the witness protection program.” For another second you’re worried about how you’ll do damage control, how you’ll talk to them about Dean after this, and then you remember this isn’t actually Mike and Barbie, they won’t actually remember anything.

           Mike leans into Dean conspiratorially. “You can say that again. Now, what can I get you three to drink?”

           “Whatever you’re having works for me, sir,” Dean answers, charming as ever with his most clean-cut smile.

           “You’re going to regret saying that,” Mike laughs, heading over to the kitchen where Barbie is fiddling with something in the oven. He fills a row of pint glasses with dark beer out of a growler you know is the extremely strong beer he brews himself and hands one to his wife with a kiss on her cheek, motions for you and the Winchesters to each take one. “To a pleasant surprise and finding out there’s another man in the world like Sam.”

           “I think you mean another man like me,” Dean says cheerfully as you all clink your glasses together.

           “So you’re older?” Barbie asks, handing Sam a stack of plates to go make the table with.

           “Four years, yeah. It was easier to tell when I had a foot on him.” Dean reaches up to ruffle his baby brother’s hair, and Sam generously waits a half-second before swatting his hand away with a sheepish flush.

           “A foot? Really? I wouldn’t have thought anyone would ever have had a foot on this behemoth,” Mike laughs, catching Sam with a jokey punch to his bicep when he comes back for silverware.

           “Oh, yeah. Sam was a little squirt until he was like 17.” Dean continues.

           “How’s Luke’s basketball team doing?” Sam asks, color rising in his cheeks and desperate to have the focus shifted off of himself.

           Barbie grants his wish with a knowing smile. “Going to the playoffs! He’s very excited.” She hands Sam a huge bowl of salad to carry to the table and takes out a hot casserole dish from the oven.

           “They do playoffs for middle school?” you ask, about to trail into the dining room after Barbie with Sam and Mike like a chain of ducklings. Dean stops you with a hand on your arm.

           “It’s going to make it weird if you’re not yourself with him,” he mutters, low so the Kaisers and Sam won’t hear. “I’m okay, kid, I promise. This is…awesome, but I know you’re holding back. You don’t have to.”

           “What’re you talking about?”

           “You touched Sam more when I was topside and we were together. You’d think he has leprosy the way you’re dodging him now.”

           “Dean, we’re always going to be togeth—”

           He rolls his eyes in frustration. “Okay, fine, yeah, we’re together now. But you know what I mean.”

           You bite your lip. “I thought they’re just my mind’s projections, who cares if they think it’s weird.”

           “Babe.” He holds firm, his gaze steady.

           “Jesus, Dean, it is weird, okay? The whole thing is bizarre!” Your whisper has turned into a bit of a hiss and he glances to the dining room to make sure you haven’t caught anyone’s attention.

           He wraps his fingers around your hand and swipes an arc into it, looking down as he does. “I know it is, I’m sorry. Can you try, just a little bit? The whole thing is only going to get less awkward if we keep at it.”

           “Fine, yeah. I’ll try.”

           Dean holds your eyes for a moment, not seeming to buy it, before staring back at his feet. “For you it’s a dream but this—this is the closest I’m going to get; to being part of your lives. I just—I just kinda want it to be as close as it can be, you know? If you’re acting different then it’s not really—”

           “Understood.” You swallow hard against the lump forming in your throat, willing it to dissolve, not about to keep feeling sorry for yourself when he’s clearly putting so much aside to be present.

           Too quickly for you to react Dean lifts your hand to his lips, and the warmth of the kiss on your skin sends a shudder through you. He follows you into the dining room, where Sam and the Kaisers are about to sit down. You grab the seat next to Sam, leaving the head of the table opposite Barbie for Dean as the new guest.

           “You okay?” Sam asks, quietly enough you’re sure you’re the only one who can hear it.

           You squeeze his thigh reassuringly under the table. “Yeah, definitely.”

           Dean catches your eyes to give you a meaningful look that makes you swallow again, and before you can think about it you’re sliding your hand around Sam’s neck, looping him down to kiss him on the cheek. Sam’s cheeks flush pink as the corner of his mouth tries to tug into a smile and it’s so impossibly cute that you’re not faking your subsequent smile for Dean’s sake.

           Both Barbie and Dean smirk thoughtfully at the two of you before pretending to be engrossed in the salad she’s passing to him. “So, Dean! We heard your families were friends before these two got together; was it one of those things that you always knew was going to happen?”

           Sam chokes on a sip of beer, trying his best to cough with his mouth closed to keep the sputtering to a minimum. You think you’re probably the only one who catches the flair of joyful ribbing behind Dean’s eyes as he pretends to be concerned.

           “Aw, I remember my first drink. All good over there, Sammy?”

           His little brother strains to stop, his voice sounding as rough and cracked as if he’d spent 50 days breathing sand. “Yep. Wrong pipe, sorry.” He gives a closed-mouth smile of reassurance to his hosts that makes him look like a kid.

           Dean turns to Barbie, smile smooth and charming as anything. “You know, it’s funny you ask that. When we were younger, I was the one with the crush on her.”

           You probably should’ve guessed Dean would pull some kind of jokey shit like this but you’re still thankful that the Winchesters aren’t sitting close enough to kick each other’s legs under the table. As it is, you give a grin you hope seems warm and not tense.

           Mike finishes chewing a huge bite and nudges Dean’s arm with his elbow playfully. “I hope there’s no jealousy there.”

           “Ah, you know how it is. You grow up, things happen.” And if that isn’t the damn understatement of the century. “Couldn’t ask for a better girl to take care of my baby bro.”

           “Well I think that’s pretty damn sweet. Barb’s sister hated me until I drove to Wausau on Thanksgiving Day to change a blown-out tire for her. We’d already been married six years!”

           Barbie rolls her eyes across the table at Sam, mouthing “not true,” with an easy smile.  

           “I think that’s worth a drink,” Mike emphasizes, raising his beer. “To the best girl for—what’d you call him? Somehow I can’t imagine He-Man over here ever being a ‘Sammy.’”

           You raise your own drink with everyone else and Dean catches your eye with an iridescent twinkle as he repeats the toast. “To the best girl.”

           The rest of dinner is the exact emotional and literal comfort food you always get from the Kaisers, a respite from the world in the best way. As you had suspected he would, Dean gets along perfectly with them, falling into a good-natured ribbing of Sam borne of admiration with Mike and charming Barbie within an inch of her life. Dean tells stories about Sam as a little kid that you know are really far more embarrassing than the version he shares, and hearing Dean edit to idealize Sam for the Kaisers even as an eight year old makes you want to melt into the floor.

           You pretend to be tired too early in the evening, feeling selfish and wanting the boys all for yourself. Being handed a Tupperware of leftovers reminds you this isn’t real; the futility of carrying them a flash in the evening that you’ve otherwise forgotten won’t last.

           Standing in the doorway, Sam’s already on the porch when Barbie stops Dean as he’s following you out. Quietly, trying for privacy, she says to him, “Honey, I am so glad we got to meet you. We worry about these two being all by themselves, but knowing they’ve got you looking out for them is going to help me sleep a little more soundly tonight.”

           Dean covers her hand where she has his arm and looks at her with soft doe eyes. “You have no idea how much I could say the same to you.”

           They hug for a beat longer than necessary and then Dean’s right at your side, trailing after Sam’s long legs down the road to your cabin.

           It’s hard not to think it’s purposeful, Sam going ahead to let you walk with Dean on the way back. Dean flicks a side of his jacket away from his body and you slide in there like you always did, warmed by the pre-contained heat coming off of him and giggling when he kisses the top of your head. “Man, I guess some things never change,” he murmurs, breath spilling over your hair. “You even move to the damn arctic and still don’t get any warmer coats.”

           He’s feeding you the intro to an old script but you don’t have the heart to tease back, just snuggling up to him and walking to the cabin together feeling the familiar way the muscles in Dean’s side move against you as he does. Sam doesn’t even look back and it’s so unlike him not to check that you’re there that then you know definitively he’s giving you a moment together. “I miss you, baby.”

           “Kid, I’m right here.”

           You peer up at him. “Don’t be a dick.”

           He glances down at you bundled against him. “I miss you too. But I see you guys all the time; it’s like nothing changed.”

           The reflex to laugh bitterly doesn’t fit the moment but you can’t stop it. “Right. My mistake.”

           His jaw muscles tighten to a ball for a whisper of a beat. “I need you to fucking work with me here, babe. I know this is not ideal but it’s so much more than anyone else gets and I gotta be honest, you’re being kind of a bitch about it.” You kick your eyebrows up on your forehead, both disbelieving and challenging. Dean realizes the mistake borne of his frustration immediately. “Not a bitch, that’s not what I mean, sorry. A baby. You’re being a baby.”

           “A baby?”

           He stops you both. Sam’s already about halfway up the driveway. “Listen, I know that you’re—I don’t know, mad. At me for not being here, the way things happened, whatever. But it’s done. It’s over. No one else in the fucking world gets this, gets to have it both ways, visit like I’m just a town away. You get to see me, I get to see you guys, pretty much whenever we want.”

           A few tears start collecting in the wells of your eyelids, indignance or grief or both. You try to blink them back but when one falls, lightning fast and stupid like Wil E. Coyote running out over the edge of a cliff, Dean brushes it away with a swipe of his thumb. “I get it. I miss you too, all the fucking time. I miss the way things could’ve been; I miss shit I didn’t even have, you know? I miss this fucking cabin, believe it or not—I—we all could’ve lived in a cabin like this together. We—maybe we could have had kids or something, couple of little girls to braid Uncle Sammy’s hair, the fuck do I know? But at some point I had to accept what I do have, and you do too.”

           You look over his shoulder, not wanting to meet Dean’s eyes or the truth that’s there. He’s right, but that doesn’t make the bottomless pit of greed for more of him go away. “Sam’s going to be waiting for us.”

           “Don’t deflect. It doesn’t have to be this second, but you have to get good with this. Today—tonight, whatever—was pretty damn near perfect and you’re upset because you want something that doesn’t exist.” He flicks his gaze up the driveway to confirm it’s empty; Sam’s already inside. His jaw is still tight but his eyes are tender and fuzzy, the same way he looks when he’s tired. When they lock onto yours, you can feel them sear straight into you, heating you up slow like an Easy Bake oven. “But right now you’re going to kiss me like it’s the first time. Then we’re going to head in, and you’re going to act like I know you’ve been with Sammy, sappy freaks that you both are, I’m going to have a few drinks with my brother, and we’ll tell the same stupid stories you’ve heard a hundred times.”

           That’s finally enough to make you chuckle and you venture an arm out of the protective embrace he has on you to take his chin in your hand, thumb on that perfect indent as you catch Dean’s lips with yours. It’s soft and delicate, a thank you and a reminder and a memory at once. His lashes catch a shadow when he opens his eyes, and you hold them for a long second. “I thought you said like our first kiss—you didn’t even try to jam your tongue down my throat.”

           Dean rolls his eyes through a smile and a part of your mind flares with victory knowing you’ve made it past the bramble patch of emotion. “I was like twenty, can’t blame a guy for trying. You couldn’t have been that mad; you still let me get under your shirt the next day.”

           You laugh hard, letting it ring out along the driveway as you tug Dean to the house with your fingers interlinked in his.

           Sam is pouring a few fingers of bourbon into three little juice glasses when you walk in, and you grab one right off the counter without breaking your stride, tossing it back and offering it to Sam. “Hit me.”

           He smirks and obliges as you slide a hand to his lower back. There’s a half beat of hesitation before he leans back that inch or two into your palm like he always does, but what’s more important in that moment is that he still does, and without flushing. Sam and Dean both grab their glasses and you don’t remember the last time you’ve done this many toasts in a night that weren’t at the bar following a Packers win.

           “To you two morons finally figuring this shit out,” Dean says, raising his glass.

           “Yeah, whatever,” Sam grins. For a beat you can see in his eyes the unbridled admiration he has for his brother, the complete devotion and deep grain of grief he’ll never be free of even if he can see Dean like this every day for the rest of forever. You wonder if you had truly realized the way it flared in his eyes before everything. All three of you sip at your whiskeys together, and you have to fight to keep your mouth closed through a petite yawn.

           Sam tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear and lets you lean into the wall of his body, wrap your hand around to his side. His hand moves to envelop your shoulder, thumb swiping absentmindedly back and forth. It’s nothing, genuinely less physical affection than you used to show Sam most of the time when you and Dean were two halves of a living couple like he’d pointed out to you earlier, but the most important thing is that it feels okay. More than anything it feels like being at the bar, the ‘aren’t they so cute’ on Dean’s face the same one that you get at work only made different by how much you wish you were somehow able to tuck up under Dean’s arm at the same time.

           A couple drinks and a while later you’re sprawled on the couch, head laid back on the armrest. One foot is tucked under Sam’s thigh where he sits next to you and one rests on top of his lap, a large, warm palm gently wrapped around your shin. The living room—area in the non-bedroom-or-bathroom-space in the cabin where you’ve put a couch, armchair, and rocking chair you’ve grown fond of, really—is small enough that Dean’s knees, extended and one crossed over the other where his feet are on the coffee table, are right by your shoulder, absentminded slow rocking of the maple chair he’s on not quite matching the pace of the hand he has playing with your hair. You’re close to drifting off, and isn’t that weird, that you would get sleepy in a dream, but listening to Sam and Dean is so relaxing. They’re talking about the few weeks they stayed in Bar Harbor as kids, running around Acadia National Park like it was their own personal playground and swimming in freezing cold Atlantic waters, creating all kinds of imaginary games in spite of even Sam being maybe a touch too old for it, by then.

           It’s warm; Sam has put a couple logs on the fireplace, trying to hide how eager he is to show his brother all the repairs he’s done to the cabin. More than that, you realize suddenly, it finally feels like home, Dean’s appraisal the baptism that it needed to make you feel safe enough here to approach sleep so casually without Sam’s body as physical protection. Dean’s hand wraps around to cradle your head and he leans over to whisper in your ear. “It’s okay, you can fall asleep.”

           You shake your head loose of a little of the drowsiness. “No, I—we’re in my head, it’ll be over if I—” you murmur, waking up even more as you talk.

           Sam’s hand moves up and down your shin reassuringly. “It’s okay. We have a greenhouse filled with dream root now, we can come back all the time.”

           “Well, not all the time,” Dean amends. “You guys have to get out there, not become sleep junkies. Once, twice a month or something.”

           “Oh good, a standing appointment. Like the dentist,” you say, rolling your eyes around a bitter smirk and killing the rest of your drink. Sam smiles softly and looks up at Dean, silently willing him to be the one to argue with you.

           Dean takes the bait, sliding his hand out of your hair to prop his elbows on his knees. You sit up straighter to be able to fully see his face.

           “Babe, come on, don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Sam and I have seen what happens to people who get hooked on this shit, take it every day. It’s a risk to do it even every couple weeks.”

           “You haven’t even explained to me how this works—do I have to decide to wake up or will it happen by itself?”

           “It’ll be a natural transition if you don’t consciously decide to,” Sam offers, voice quiet and smooth like you’re some victim’s family member he’s trying to soothe. You let him do it, stop yourself from rankling defensively and appreciate for a second how nice it sounds, how comforting it really is. “Most likely it’ll get easier to control it with a little practice, but I think Dean’s right, if you go to sleep that’ll probably do it a little more, uh, gently.”

           Sam’s eyes reflect the firelight as they do every time he sits in that spot on the couch. He looks warm, looks calm and whole. You can see right away that he needs you to be the one who’s struggling to let go—maybe partly for Dean, who’s eviscerated every time he sees his brother hurt and has always been, but also for himself, for the way he’s telling himself this is enough. Though you were the one who’d threatened Dean, Sam had undoubtedly gotten closer to following through—following Dean—both actively and passively. You loved Dean, but Sam in many ways was Dean, just like Dean was Sam. Inextricable in the parts that really counted and that was the point, why you would’ve mainlined dream root swamp ass tea until you withered away like a rat choosing a pleasure button over food to see them both. They were each perfect alone, Sam and Dean—different and perfect—but together they were the sun and the moon, the entire universe inside one Impala.

           It’s easy to let him have it. Sam deserves so much more than this small mercy and you are struggling, want desperately to have been put in some kind of coma together in this little play-pretend world where the food’s always exactly what you want and the time passes inconsequentially if at all.

           You wipe a tear off your cheek that you hadn’t felt fall, can tell before you open your mouth that your voice is going to falter. “Couple weeks, right? You promise?” Sam and Dean nod in tandem and you try to drink up every drop of it, try to ignore the shade of sad-desperate behind both of their eyes. “And it’s going to be the same? No one’s going to like, forget or anything? Is this like Groundhog Day where you’ll have to be re-introduced to Barbie and Mike every time?”

           Dean’s eyebrows screw up in thoughtful empathy. “Pretty uncharted territory here, kid. I hope not, but I don’t want to promise you something I can’t deliver.”

           Sam reaches over to take your hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb. “It’ll still be us, though. That’s the important part, right?”

           You nod tightly, feeling small and stupid ironically like a kid trying to fight off bedtime. It hangs in the air for a beat.

           “Catch you losers later, I guess,” Dean smirks, standing up and offering you a hand. Like he’s heading to his house on the other side of the block you reach up for a hug, only momentarily surprised when Dean foregoes the hug to slip a strong hand into your hair, cradling your face for a kiss that’s somehow bruising and tender as he presses your lower back to weld yourself to him. The feeling of his lips steals the breath from your lungs and you barely have the presence of mind to realize you’re blushing, getting dangerously close to making out just a step away from Sam. Dean, cocky asshole that he is, winks at you as he draws back.

           When you turn back to Sam, he’s—he’s rolling his eyes through a smile. With a start you realize it’s exactly the same long-suffering playful tolerance he’d have catching you stealing a kiss during a case and that thought alone is a buoy as Dean pulls Sam down to tuck into his arms, that same eternally-little-brother hug that has always made you smile. You look down at your feet, giving them a second to share a few of those ever-indecipherable looks.

           “Do you guys want to just stay out here maybe? I can ‘go to sleep’ or whatever in the other room? Feels a little weird to just sit here and have you both staring at me,” you offer with air quotes.

           Sam’s eyes are earnest and reassuring when he meets yours. “Whatever makes you most comfortable. Do you want me to, ah, also…?” He tosses a casual thumb over his shoulder to the bedroom.

           “I’ll be okay, I think. Thanks, though.” You rock back on your feet awkwardly. “Um, goodnight, I guess.”

           “See you soon, babe,” Dean says, and it’s not hard to see the sweetness under the casual affect he’s trying on.

           “See you both soon. Love you, morons.”

           You don’t remember falling asleep, but then you wouldn’t, because in reality you’re waking up.

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 19

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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[thebestpersonherelovesbucky]

Falcon and the Winter Soldier Ep. 6 Takeaway

First let me say that I really truly enjoyed this show. I was so nervous at the beginning and I was so nervous for the end, and though there are things that I didn’t like (as to be expected with pretty much any media) my overall excitement was rewarded. I definitely give the show an A and can only hope that we keep getting things like this and WandaVision with their next shows.

Anyway.

Sam and Bucky (and Sharon) coordinating from their different spots. I always like seeing the tactical side of working together in addition to the badass fighting together stuff. 

The officer not questioning Bucky’s presence and calling him Sargent Barnes made me SO happy.

The facial mask thing-y that Natasha had in Cap 2 making a reappearance. Idk why I like that but it’s nice to know that these things are still being utilized.

CAPTAIN AMERICA’S FIRST ENTRANCE!!!! my GOD did Sam ROCK that!!! Fucking AH-MAY-ZING. 

Sam’s new costume is perfect like the comics!! It’s so often changed that it’s so great to see it on screen! 

“I’m sorry, wait. Who are you?” “I’m Captain America.” The parallel between this is Steve’s “Um...Captain America.” in the First Avenger. 

The subtitles saying “Captain America” now whenever Sam in uniform talks.

Bucky trying to talk Karli down, approaching from a different angle than Sam because it’s what he knows and honestly does want to stop her without it coming to a fight. Especially when he realizes it’s a trap and is all “oh fuck me” and needs to haul ass lol. That is Bucky Barnes to a T. 

“Seriously, Bucky, you had one job.” Omg, Sharon. lmao

Sam’s fight with Batroc was so cool. No serum. Just straight up ass kicking plus the au revoir at the end. Yes please and thank you.

Redwing!!!! Yaaaay!!!! (”a little birdie told me” lmao, Sam.)

Seeing the Vibranium wings in ACTION. Bouncing a freaking helicopter off them! FUCK!!!!! SO COOL!!!

I can watch Bucky Barnes throwing himself off a motorcycle all day long. 

Bucky stopping his fight to save everyone.

John Walker and his stupid Walmart Shield arriving just in time to add fire to fire. Thanks, bro. 

Bucky specifically being thanked for rescuing them. He’s spent so much time with so much guilt that having just one person say “thank you for rescuing us” actually made him pause. He’s spent so much time as the “villain” that he’s forgotten he can be the hero and it’s so good to see that finally hit him. 

The metal arm scraping across the ground. Good god. 

Sam popping out of the water and “Boy, you earned this ass whooping!”

That helicopter scene holy SHIT is Sam amazing. 

And some applause for Ayla, too!!!! 

John Walker ultimately choosing to save people instead of going on with his vendetta. Very comic book in character. 

Bucky watching in horror as the van is slowly going over the edge and then smiling in wonder and awe as Captain America saves them all. 

“That’s the Black Falcon there! I tell you!” “Nah. That’s Captain America!” Tears. Actual tears. SO MANY TEARS. Sam Wilson IS CAPTAIN AMERICA, baby!!!

Uh, yeah, so Bucky stopping weapons mid-air is one of my favorite things ever.

Okay, Batroc, go the fuck away now, we’re done with you. 

I do like that when push comes to shove, the mission outweighed their personal grudges and Sam and Bucky “teamed up” with Walker. Not that it was 100% trust on their side. I think Bucky followed Walker bc “eeeeh....can we really trust him?” and since he has no doubt Sam can handle himself, but also, we’re fighting the same thing right as of this moment so lets just keep our heads and do it. 

I am absolutely not thrilled with the direction they took Sharon. Like. Not at all. I’m...reserving full judgement for what I’m assuming will come in the future but like. No. Nuh-ah. Not happy with it.

Sam trying so hard to help Karli. The fact that he legit refused to fight her and she tried so hard to get him to fight back and he just wouldn’t. So beautiful and poignant. Sam’s fighting style. Sam perseverance. Just. Everything about that.

As good as the scene was (and I think it was great. The set up. How it all went down. The raw emotion) I’m kinda bummed they killed Karli. I was hoping Sam could at least talk her down first. However, the emotion and symbolism of her dying in his arms, and whispering “i’m sorry” was so heartbreaking. 

The way Bucky and Walker got the rest of the Flag Smashers was hilarious.

Sam carrying Karli’s body cradled in his arms and flying down with her like a literal angel? I mean. Just rip my heart out. 

“You have to stop calling them terrorists.” and “Your peacekeeping troops carrying weapons are forcing millions of people into settlements around the world, right? What do you think those people call you.” These first few lines of Sam’s speech. God, thank you.

Sam’s Captain America Speech. No fuck’s given. I’m so glad they didn’t hold back and just let him really give that powerful speech. Unabashedly saying “I’m a Black man carrying the stars and stripes. What don’t I get?”. Admitting the weight that comes with it and the judgement he feels. Not backing down. Telling the world he is Captain America “no super serum, no blond hair or blue eyes”. Defending Karli and trying to get them to understand what she was trying to do and why she was trying to do it. Sam was 100% born to be Captain America. 

Everyone watching Captain America’s speech. Bucky. Walker. Isaiah and Eli. Joaquin. Sarah. The world. Beautiful watching Captain America deliver his first speech. 

“Sorry I was texting so all I heard was Black guy in stars and stripes...nice job, Cap.” That back clap Bucky gives Sam there? ((#boyfriends))

“Can you help?” “Always.” 

Very happy that Zemo had another villain move up his sleeve. Didn’t really dig the whole “i’m so graceful feel sorry for me” thing. 

John Walker becoming US Agent.  

Oh and, excuse me while I geek out over Valentina, Walker, Zemo...@marvel, I see where this might be headed. Please don’t let me down!

Bucky making his amends with Nakajima. The overwhelming emotions. The fear of admitting it. I kinda wish we saw a little more but I’m also okay with the ambiguity of it and knowing that Bucky knows that he at least gave him closure and is coming to accept that his role as the winter soldier was not his fault. 

Also liked Bucky giving the book to his therapist. I know it’s an unpopular opinion, but I take no issues with her and I do think that Bucky felt she helped him.

Eli Bradley is fucking adorable. 

Sam’s conversation with Isaiah. All that hope he represents while not erasing the pain that Isiah and generations before them suffered. Still wanting to fight for what’s right just because it’s the right thing to do. Isaiah not condemning Sam’s choice. Beautiful and poignant. 

Um. The museum scene? Yeah, I had to pause for a good ten minutes before I could actually continue with the show. Isaiah Bradley and all his men deserved that ((and so much more)) for so long. The catharsis so visible when Isaiah hugs Sam so tight. The zoom in on the statue. Okay, I’m crying again. 

Yeah, so when Bucky’s boyfriend has a BBQ he shows up like dancing like a dork with a cake and plays with all the kids.

Honestly, happiness looks so good on him. It’s so nice to see that again. 

They really ended it with Sam and Bucky embracing and walking off together in the sunset. 

CAPTAIN AMERICA AND THE WINTER SOLDIER

Again, still not thrilled with what’s going on with Sharon but clearly they’re setting up for something so...I’m putting a bookmark in to hold my judgement. 

Bc honestly, my biggest focus is:

CAPTAIN AMERICA AND THE WINTER SOLDIER

CAPTAIN AMERICA AND THE WINTER SOLDIER

CAPTAIN AMERICA AND THE WINTER SOLDIER

CAPTAIN AMERICA AND THE WINTER SOLDIER

Seriously though, overall, I think this was one of the best things Marvel has put out there in a while and I know I’ll come back to it again and again. Here’s hoping to more Cap to come!!!! 

[cripplingaddictions]

First “I love you”s with the BNHA Boys

Bakugo, Shinso, Kirishima

Summary: How I think some of my favs would say their first ily and when it would be in the relationship. Pretty much first major confession stories...

A/N: So sorry for inactivity. I always get way too carried away with these sorts of headcanons... Let me know if you guys want a part two with maybe some pro heroes, villains, or maybe more students?? 

Bakugo:

Yeah, Bakugo sucks at words

Bakugo said his quite far into the relationship, let’s be real

To begin with, his love language was actions, not words

So when he realised that he needed to say it at some point or you may get upset with him, he panicked 

I’m sure you were incredibly accepting of his form of affection, slightly aggressive or not, that you weren't pressing for him to say it

You knew he would be uncomfortable with it, so you make it your mission to say it to him first

That way he could feel either relieved that you said first, confident enough to say it himself when he was ready, or let it out at the same time

Spoiler: it was the latter 

You both blurted it out together

The two of you were in a fight, nothing unusual 

However, it wasn’t one of the playful ones that more commonly end with you giggling and pleading for his mercy as he tickled you

You’d never yell in those sorts of fights, and neither would he

But this one was serious

The points and arguments attacking each other were incredibly personal, but both sides were very unselfish

For example, you said: “Your inferiority complex is what makes you this way and you’re gonna push yourself too hard one day!”

To which he’d reply with: “Look at you, if you want to play hero let me do what I want and focus on yourself. Don’t waste your time on me when I’m perfectly fine”

You get the idea

All you wanted was for him to look after himself

Once you believed the fight was incredibly stupid, you stormed off

Bakugo of course tried to catch up with you only for you to slam a door in his face, which you instantly regretted

It took you a good half an hour to open the door again

Bakugo stood up immediately at the sight of your puffy eyes

He felt awful 

But the three words came out as follows:

“Katsuki... I’m sorry”

“No, I am”

“Katsu, please, you know that I get worked up”

“And I do too”

There was a pause, neither of you knowing who would speak first

That’s when you spoke at the same time

“I only said what I said because I love you and care about you”

“I almost pushed you away because I love you so much, dumbass”

“What did you say?”

“Huh”

You got him to repeat himself, and he mumbled it shyly

You awed, hurrying up to him to pull him tightly into your chest and reassured him softly

He was too shocked to get emotional or cry

He was mainly relieved that you said it too, because as soon as that fight picked up, he was afraid you didn’t

Now that it was off his chest, he was relieved

And knowing everything that you did was because you loved him back made him feel so much better

But he made sure that you both said it often enough to avoid doubt

Shinso:

My soft purple boy...

He knew he loved you instantly, much like most of the boys on this list

He had finally found someone with similar interests as him, same sense of humour, same goals, and loved cats too

Best of all, you never assumed anything because of his quirk

And with Shinso’s childhood, encountering someone who thought nothing like those other kids, he wanted to hold onto you forever

You feeling safe around him wasn’t something that grew over time after meeting him

It was instantaneous 

You had introduced yourself to him and he cocked an eyebrow at you

“Aren’t you scared?”

“Scared? Why would I be scared?”

“Don’t you know I’m the kid with the brainwash quirk that everyone says to ‘beware’?”

“Oh, yeah. I knew”

“Then why did you approach me?”

“I don’t know, I thought your quirk was actually really cool and wanted to know why your in the general department and not in the hero department”

That was the first time he had ever heard someone talk about his quirk in such a way

He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t fall in love instantly as you took a seat next to him and began ranting about how rigged the entrance exam was

I didn’t mean to get into a whole backstory so lets hurry with the confession:

You two weren’t even dating yet when he said it

And it wasn’t even that far into your friendship that he let it slip

The two of you had stopped into a cat cafe on the way home from UA

You had already finished eating and were busy playing with the numerous cats surrounding your table

After all, Shinso was a cat magnet

You cooed at a kitten in your lap, talking to it in your baby voice

Shinso sat across from you, chin resting in his hand smiling fondly to himself

The fact that he loved you was so apparent to him that he almost forgot that you didn’t know

For some reason, he had forgotten that you really couldn’t read his mind, even though you were so similar to him

At this point, your teasing but genuine affection had made Shinso forget that you weren't dating

Being around each other was so comfortable 

He never had been so blessed

While you played with the cat, he sighed

“Damn... I love you...”

“:0” 

“:|”

The boy had the audacity to clear his throat and pretend he didn’t say it, like it was a ghost or something that had whispered it so softly and meaningfully in a voice that sounded just like his voice..? 

Of course you knew it was him

“Do you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“>:[”

“Yes?”

“This is so sudden... I mean we’re not even dating? Do I say it back now? How long have you felt this way? Do I have to meet your parents now? Wait, do you even want a relationship? No-”

Shinso leaned over the table and placed his hand over your mouth to hush you

“It was an accident, okay? I didn’t mean to say it so soon”

You peel his large hand off your mouth

“No, it’s fine... I’m kind of relieved...”

“Why’s that?”

“I was going to ask you out after this... and I didn’t know if you’d say yes”

You laughed nervously, turning back to the cat and avoided Shinso’s eyes

Let’s just say that he definitely said yes and that spot in the cat cafe became his favourite place ever

You said that you loved him right after he agreed to date you

Kirishima:

Kiri! Kiri! Kiri! Kiri!

Words are 100% his thing!

In fact, after you started dating, he couldn’t wait to say it!

He would have said it as soon as you agreed to date him if it wasn’t for his plan that he had come up with as soon as he realised he had a crush on you

This plan of his consisted of him confessing that he loves you after a long date that ended with you two stargazing on a hill with candles and sandwiches and blankets and-

Argh, it was going to be perfect!

Originally, he intended jump right into it and ask you to hang out then take you to the arcade, then to lunch, then the festival, then across the lake, then to the park as friends! 

Denki thought it was stupid that he’d go through all that effort without knowing if you even liked him back!

So, with Denki’s “experience”, he instructed Kirishima on a new 20 step plan in order to say it at the right moment

Kiri, being so lovestruck, he could only listen to him

The first date he asked you on was a simple study date

According to Denki’s plan, Kiri was to take baby steps in order to build up to a date of that magnitude

With Kirishima being the sunshine boy he is, every date was a blast (even the study one)

As it came to the completion of the 20 step plan, Kiri began to grow nervous

Remember how I said words are 100% his thing?

Well, at least they were

Before the big day at least

He was incredible fidgety the entire time, from when you got to the arcade to when you hopped onto the boat to cross the lake

You weren’t stupid, you noticed how his laughter faded out quickly as how he avoided your eyes more often than not

It caused you to get a bit anxious yourself, making the boat ride over to the park incredibly awkward

You usually relied on him to bounce back on, but now...

Why was he even anxious? The date had gone perfectly!

You looked like you had enjoyed yourself, so why was he questioning if you would love him back?

Nonetheless, he led you to the exactly place on the hill he had planned it to happen three months ago

You rolled out the picnic blanket, lit the candles, ate the sandwiches and waited for the sun to go down

The temperature dropped, causing you to shiver, just like Kiri planned

So he took out the blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders, much more awkwardly than he had watched on repeat in his head for months

But you took it with a smile, and he loosened up a bit

When it became dark enough for you to see the stars, you lay down on wrapped in the blanket

Your eyes were filled with wonder as you found yourself absent-mindedly telling Kiri about the different stars

That’s when Kiri found his hand itching for the speech that he stashed into his pocket after rewriting it over and over again

He was sure he had formulated his words right

But at that moment, seeing you just as he had dreamed in this perfect moment, but only more beautiful, he realised it would never go as he planned

“And I think that one is Sirius. It’s got to be the brightest star”

“Y/N”

“Yes?”

“I want to tell you something”

You’re heart dropped

“What is it?”

“I’m so in love with you, you have no idea. Ever since I met you, I thought you were incredible and beautiful... It’s not very manly for me to admit this but... I have literally dreamed of this moment. But none of my dreams could have never prepared me for this. I love you, Y/N, and it’s okay if you don’t love me back”

“Oh thank goodness, I’m so glad that was what you wanted to say”

“Huh?”

“I noticed how fidgety you were and I feared the worst if I’m honest!”

“Oh, no I didn’t want to make you feel that way! I was just nervous that you wouldn’t accept my confession...”

“Of course I do! I love you too!”

He was so relieved, and never regretted the way the confession when down

Since he recovered from his initial nerves, he’d say it constantly and you’d always laugh and reciprocate his words

[besanii]

shattered mirrors 53

WangXian ; 1386 words

[set before #02]

The first sign of trouble rears its head when the clothing Mo Xuanyu had taken downstairs to be laundered comes back with a large tear along the sleeve. The cut is too clean, too large, too prominent, to have been accidental, but there is little they can do when they do not know who the perpetrator is, so Wei Wuxian sends Mo Xuanyu to the tailor to see if they are able to salvage the garment at all.

Later that day, one of his favourite headpieces—one with red stones set in a silver band, one of the very first gifts he had purchased for himself in this new life—is found broken on the floor beneath his dressing table, one of the stones cracked and partially dislodged. Mo Xuanyu lets out a frustrated cry when he sees it and stomps about the room with helpless anger as Wei Wuxian examines the broken pieces in his hands.

“We can’t let them get away with it, Xian-ge!” he says. “First the robes Zhao-daye gave you, then your favourite zanzi?”

He’s right, of course. In the weeks since they’d set up shop here at Caiyi Pavilion, Wei Wuxian has been on the receiving end of baleful glares and jealous whispers, which had only worsened after Lan Wangji had started frequenting the establishment. It is understandable: he’d been here only a matter of weeks and had managed to not only bring in a whole slew of new patrons, but also taken a few existing clients from his colleagues without even trying. He would be more surprised if they weren’t resentful of his presence.

“Leave them be, A-Yu,” he says, setting aside the headpiece in a box. “Trinkets and robes can be replaced. No need to get so worked up about it.”

Mo Xuanyu huffs. “Xian-ge, if you don’t do something soon, they’ll just take more and more liberties! They’ll break your things now, but what if they come for you next time?”

Wei Wuxin smiles and passes him the box.

“Patience,” he says. “We don’t know who is behind all of this yet. Let’s not strike the grass and alert the snake.”

The next few days are relatively uneventful—the resentful looks and gossip continues, but there is no further damage to his property, and he carries on with his usual routine as if nothing had happened. They manage to get the headpiece repaired by a skilled craftsman and the robes modified to hide the tear, and he shows off both during the day as they all make their preparations for that night’s business. It doesn’t take long for one of his colleagues to take the bait.

“Xian-er, you must tell me where you purchased that zanzi,” she gushes, circling around him to get a better look. “It is absolutely exquisite.”

She is easily half a head shorter than he is and has to crane her neck to see, but he stays still and keeps his hands tucked into his sleeves as she inspects the headpiece. They are in the middle of the main hall where the servants are cleaning and polishing and rearranging furniture while there are no clients to get in the way. The other courtesans mill around in various states of preparation, still in their day clothes, eyeing the two of them with interest.

“Honglian-jie is too generous in her praise,” Wei Wuxian says with feigned warmth. “This is just a trinket I bought at the market on a whim, only recently repaired after an unfortunate incident. It is nowhere close to the value of the gold buyao you wear.”

“Oh, this little thing?” she says with a simpering laugh. “Just a small gift from a devoted client, nothing special.”

Honglian’s lips curve upwards with all the satisfaction of a spoilt cat as she reaches up with one hand to finger the ends of the gold hairpiece that dangles from the twist in her hair. It is a fine piece of jewellery, as far as jewellery goes, and it flatters her pretty neck just so as she moves; he knows there are other girls in the brothel who eye it with barely concealed envy, but he supposes that is the intention. Already now he catches Caiqiao, one of the more popular girls in the establishment, rolling her eyes from where she is sitting at a nearby table with a plate of osmanthus cakes.

“Not all of us are lucky enough to have such generous clients like yours, Honglian-jie,” he insists. “I had to buy this piece of scrap out of my own pocket.”

He watches as her eyes light up at the bit of bait he’s tossed to her; she laughs, high and breathy, and shakes her head.

“Now, Xian-er, you must be teasing,” she says. “I’ve been meaning to ask you to teach me a few tricks. It seems that, when it comes to attracting and pleasing clients, no one can boast themselves better than you.”

Her smile turns sharp and pointed, her voice silky and heavy with connotations. The other girls within earshot have gone still, their bodies poised in the tell-tale way eavesdroppers always have when pretending to do otherwise; it is so predictable that Wei Wuxian has to smother a laugh in his sleeve.

“Honglian-jie, you flatter me,” he says, eyes wide with feigned innocence. “I use no more technique or tricks than any in this trade. Perhaps I have just had more luck than most in recent days.”

“You’re being too humble, Xian-er,” Honglian tells him. Her voice is simpering and pleasant, but her eyes are hard. “We all know it takes more than just luck to seduce Hanguang-wangye, who is known to be cold and untouchable as ice. Won’t you pity your sisters and share the details of your great conquest?”

The girls around them titter with amusement and curiosity at her words, all pretences forgotten as they lean in to catch his reply. When none comes, Honglian clicks her tongue and shakes her head.

“Xian-er, ah, Xian-er,” she sighs, sliding forward to loop her arm around his in a sisterly fashion. “Let me give you a word of advice, as the former huakui of Caiyi Pavilion: you mustn’t be selfish. We are all sisters here, in this business, and it is the nature of sisters to share what they have.”

Her nails dig into his arm where they rest over the sleeve—they are painted a deep red to match her lip rouge, and contrast against the pale grey of his robes—but he does not humour her with a reaction. Instead, he rests his other hand over hers and pats it gently, in the same way a parent may do to reassure a child.

“I will keep your wisdom in my mind, Honglian-jie,” he tells her. “But I fear whatever details I share will be of no use to our sisters. Hanguang-wangye is not so easily won over by simple tricks or seduction employed by any common courtesan. Indeed, I myself do not presume to know all his likes and dislikes. What I do know is this—”

He leans in close to whisper his next words in her ear.

“He abhors deception.” She stills beneath his hands, eyes wide as his breath ghosts over her. “It’s in his title: hanguang. The bearer of light. Someone as upstanding and righteous as Hanguang-wangye would not look twice at those who employ underhanded tactics to achieve selfish means.”

He gives her hand one last pat and pries it off his arm.

“If you come to my rooms later, I will give you the name of the craftsman who repaired my zanzi,” he tells her with a friendly smile, loud enough for the others to hear. “He did an excellent job, considering its sorry state when we brought it to him. Perhaps you’ll have need of his services in the future.”

He reaches up to brush the gold hairpiece, letting the ends fall over his fingers as he smiles down at her. She stares up at him, frozen in place even as he inclines his head in farewell.

“Come, A-Yu,” he says, motioning for Mo Xuanyu to follow. “Let’s leave them to their preparations.”

--

Notes:

zanzi (簪子) - decorative hairpins worn by women

daye (大爷) - Master, usually used for rich, idle men

buyao (步摇) - decorative hairpiece with dangling ornaments that sway as the wearer walks (literally means ‘swaying with each step’)

Also two random OCs who might not appear again, but needed names for Reasons: Honglian (红莲) and Caiqiao (彩繑). They were the former “top” courtesans of Caiyi Pavilion before WWX arrived, so hold a bit of a grudge against him for stealing their spotlight.

--

Master Post and ko-fi link on my sidebar!

[psqqa]

What songs are on your yunmeng bros playlist?? (If you dont mind sharing)

being given an excuse to inflict my music taste on a halfway captive audience is literally the dream, so no, anon, i absolutely do not mind.

a not insignificant portion of this playlist is just a subset of my jiang cheng playlist. and sometimes it’s a bit less a yunmeng bros playlist and a bit more of a yunmeng sibs playlist (although not as much as i would like it to be, really).

i’m just going to forestall any attempts to find any kind of structure or meaning in the order of this list by telling you there isn’t any. this is just the order they happen to currently be in. i’m struggling more than usual to whittle this into a shape i like and a significant part of that is down to the fact that there is simply nowhere one can put a 12 minute song that doesn’t stop the playlist momentum dead in its tracks (except perhaps right at the end, but No That’s Wrong Also). 

anyway, that aside, i just threw this all into spotify (minus the joanna newsom song, that is, because she continues to elect to not go there), so you can find it there if that’s your jam.

Brother Sport - Animal Collective

this is one of the songs that’s been throwing everything else off, because, unlike the rest of this sadsack list, it’s a total banger.

open up your open up your open up your throat and let time all of that time all of that time all of that time go

Futile Devices - Sufjan Stevens 

at some point, hopefully, these two bozos will realize words aren’t futile devices, and that they can use them to tell each other things, things like how important they are to each other.

and i would say i love you but saying it out loud is hard so i won’t say it at all 

Emily - Joanna Newsom

12 minutes and every single of them is crucial. This Is My Yunmeng Siblings Song. it doesn’t fit anywhere except in the vast space i need to be able to carry all my feelings about these three.

let us go though we know it’s a hopeless endeavour the ties that bind they are barbed and spined and hold us close forever

Start A War - The National

listen when it comes down to it, i’m a pretty literal-minded person.

you were always weird but i never had to hold you by the edges like i do now walk away now and you’re gonna start a war

Going Steady - Death From Above 1979

another piece of yanli in this one. just replace “mother” with “sister” (i’m so sorry your parents did that to you, yanli. you deserved better).

she’s going steady but we’re not ready oh to see her fall to see her fall to see her fall in love

Helena - My Chemical Romance

yeah i said what i fucking said. no one does raw like gerard way, and in this song it’s anger, and grief, and hurt, and self-loathing, and longing, and love, and self-destructiveness about it. i imagine it’s roughly the place jiang cheng is in the first few years after wei wuxian’s death. a jagged wound tearing itself open again and again.

burning on just like the match you strike to incinerate the lives of everyone you know

Black Gold - Foals

lyrics websites keep telling me it’s “your hollow heart” and not “you’re a hollow heart”. i don’t trust them, but i am notoriously terrible at hearing lyrics, so we’re at an impasse. anyway, i prefer my version, so i’m just going to ignore all that.

they gouged you out they dug you in they took the name right out of your mouth hollow heart you’re a hollow heart

Don’t Wanna Fight - Alabama Shakes

being at odds with the world is pretty exhausting. being at odds with your brother doubly so.

my line your line don’t cross them lines what you like what i like why can’t we both be right 

Mykonos - Fleet Foxes

idk man a lot of 2012 tumblr jams just really work for this show.

you go wherever you go today you go today 

Mine Is Yours - Cold War Kids

i think we all agree that wei wuxian could stand to be a bit less committed to this concept.

cause i don’t own the sun i don’t own the moon they only come out when they want to they don’t care whether i promised you

I Should Live In Salt - The National

Whence Comes The Playlist Title.

don’t make me read your mind you should know me better than that it takes me too much time you should know me better than that

Summer Home - Typhoon

This Is My Jiang Cheng Song (and the source of my jiang cheng playlist title). it literally never fails to fuck me up. it’s fucking me up right now just thinking about it. anyway, i hear it as “home” instead of “whole”. “whole” doesn’t necessarily take away from the line, because i think thematically it’s basically getting at the same concept, but for both personal and *motions at jiang cheng’s entire life* reasons, “home” fucks me up that much more. although really, by way of like mental furigana, it ends up being both anyway.

can we wait for the summer again can we hold out for summer again can we ever be whole again

So Here We Are - Bloc Party

speaking of the whole thematic concept of “home” fucking me up about these dudes.

i caught a glimpse but it’s been forgotten so here we are again i made a vow to carry you on home

Orange Sky - Alexi Murdoch

like i said. 2012 tumblr jams.

well i had a dream i stood beneath an orange sky with my brother and my sister standing by

Better Off Alone - Alice Deejay

okay so you know how people are like “is it even an otp if you can’t picture it as a ‘how to save a life’ fanvid?” for me it’s “is it even an otp if you can’t put alice deejay’s 1998 vocal trance masterpiece ‘better off alone’ on the playlist?” ‘otp’ is of course a misnomer. ‘interpersonal relationship of many feelings’ perhaps.

talk to me

Enchanting Ghost - Sufjan Stevens

no one does getting left behind by someone you love like ya boy suf

don’t carry on carrying efforts oh no oh oh oh somewhere there’s a room for each of us to grow and if it pleases you to leave me just go

Zephyrus - Bloc Party

okay this one is actually driving me nuts, because it’s more explicitly romantic than i would generally put on this playlist and overall i wouldn’t say it’s a great fit, but i just can’t take it off, because in the end it goes right down to root of it all and voices precisely that which jiang cheng never did:

and all you said in your quietest voice was i needed you as much as they do

[sobdasha]

I can’t wait for the day

when Momiji is revisiting The Most Foolish Traveler, the story that has always best embodied his life ideology, and just flips a table while yelling “this is bullshit!” in German.

(it’s probably about the same time that he and Momo decide to sue their parents for custody of each other)

He spends all of one evening on this (because he is really fired up and manages to get it out all in one go without any editing), commissions Rin for illustrations, and then mails off a copy to Tohru and Kyou in a fit of righteous anger.

It’s called The Most Idiotic Traveler in the World (with Corrected Ending) or something like that and the story diverges when the naked traveler is wandering through the woods. This time, early in her journey in the forest, the traveler meets a new monster not in the original story.

The monster tells the traveler that he’s been watching her since she first entered the woods. And, the monster tells her, she really is an idiot.

The traveler is confused and, to tell the truth, a bit hurt by that. It’s a different hurt than walking through the forest barefoot, with no clothes to protect her from scratches, and hobbling on a crutch of a fallen branch because she gave away one of her legs to a demon she met earlier.

“Look,” the monster says, “I’m not saying it’s not good to be grateful. Spending your life being worried about everything you could lose is a rotten way to live. But it’s okay to ask for something in return, you know. What are you going to do, keep giving away parts of your body to the demons in the forest? I know you just want to be kind, but how are you going to keep helping people if there’s nothing left of you but a head?”

(“Does that monster look kind of...familiar, to you?” Tohru asks Kyou.)

Oh, the traveler thinks. That’s what kind of hurt it is. Like the hurt of wanting to keep traveling through towns, wanting to keep being helpful, wanting to keep offering freely to the people around her. But being told instead that she’s not wanted because she’s naked, and shouldn’t she be ashamed and go where no one will see her.

(About a week ago Momiji called the house and asked, “Heeeeey Kyou, what’d your true form look like?” Kyou contemplated that for a little while, and then simply hung up on him. Rin then suggested they ask Shigure instead, as Shigure’s a bastard who knows everyone’s business.)

The traveler doesn’t know what to say to the monster. What if people think she’s greedy when she asks for a trade? What if people think that means she isn’t interested in helping really? And it’s scary to think about asking and then being told no.

(“Kyou, do you think it’s supposed to be a...a cat monster?”)

But somehow, the monster knows what she’s thinking, because he says that he didn’t mean to make her feel bad. He says, he just thought she should think about what would make her happy. He wanted her to hear that it was okay, to think like that. She can still be generous and grateful without having to lie to herself that she’s happy giving until there’s nothing left and never receiving anything new to give.

(Okay, I know I’m stupidly in love with Tohru and the whole family thinks it’s hilarious, Kyou thinks, but does Momiji seriously have to keep giving me shit about it all the time?)

“Oh,” says the traveler, starting to cry. “That’s actually very kind of you. No one has ever given me a gift like that before. I want to give you something in return for your kindness. Would you—would you like to have my arm?”

“No! I just—maybe you could let me travel with you. For a little bit. It’s kinda lonely in these woods.”

The monster is startled to find the traveler crying even harder now. I’m so sorry, the traveler tells him. It’s not that she’s upset or that she doesn’t want to travel with him—it’s just that that’s what she’s secretly always hoped for. Traveling, and meeting new people, and seeing new towns and forests, are all very lovely. But leaving people and places so soon after she’s met them is so very lonely. She’s given and given away everything she has, and she doesn’t begrudge it at all, but the only thing she would have wanted in return was for someone to travel with her for a while and keep her company.

“I can never repay your generosity!” the traveler wails.

“Hey now,” says the monster, “I thought this was a gift you were giving to me.”

Though you really shouldn’t give up any more of your body parts if you want to keep traveling and helping people, the monster scolds her. But, he says, if the time comes when she really must give up her other leg to help someone...he’ll be there to carry her, so they can keep traveling, together.

And the traveler and the monster did continue to journey together for a long time, and they lived very happily and generously but with reasonable boundaries for their well being and had so many beautiful monster babies and grandbabies THE END.

(“This is the most beautiful story I’ve ever read,” Tohru sobs into Kyou. Kyou decides he’ll forgive Momiji after all for rewriting that weird story, now blatantly starring him and Tohru and wtf even prompted that brat to do this anyway.)

The moral that Momiji took from the original story, that you should just be a beautiful person and not worry about loss and be kind, and it’s okay to die telling yourself you’re happy when all you’ve been is abused, is a garbage moral. (He also took away that he wanted to make kind people like that happy. But he accurately sees himself and Tohru as being very similar people, and he has told himself he’s okay with being walked over the same way Tohru does.) Being grateful for what you have does have its merits, but. You can be kind and have boundaries. You can be generous and not force yourself to smile and be grateful when people use you.

Momiji has no regrets about trying to empathize with his parents and keeping his distance for his mother’s mental health and his father’s happiness. But I expect there’s a point where he realizes it was awful of his dad to frame Momiji getting literally disowned as a “gift” Momiji gave her when actually Momiji didn’t have a choice to say that he didn’t want to be forgotten. I expect he builds up a lot of righteous indignation about being kept away from Momo, especially as Momo gets older and clearly wants a relationship because she’s actively seeking it out. After all, by the time his curse breaks, he’s self-aware enough to articulate that no one else can dictate for him “you should be grateful for X” or “you’ll never be happy if you do Y.” He’s made peace with the things he can’t have but he has realistic expectations for potentially getting other things in the future. Momiji refuses to accept that he’ll get nothing in return for his kindness.

(I’m also thinking about how very cold they play Momiji at the hospital with Akito in the anime, and how Momiji doesn’t warm up and offer Akito comfort via The Most Foolish Traveler until it’s clear that Akito isn’t thinking “isn’t it great how I played all these suckers” but could instead be receptive to the idea of “I want to give something kind to these dumbasses in return even though they won’t ask me for it” if nudged in the right direction.)

Momiji said his initially reaction to The Most Idiotic Traveler in the World was to want for the traveler to be happy for real, which says that Momiji is aware that the traveler was not actually happy, dying alone in the forest crying about how happy and grateful she was. And he is Right and He Should Say It and also rewrite the story with a correct ending.

[sylvie-writes]

Are You Worthy?

Part 2 of Getting Ready

Disclaimer: Some of the events may be out of order or removed but it’s for the purpose of the story

Warnings: mentions of alcohol. any screw ups in spelling or grammar.  

I just found out that I screwed up the timeline... but this is fanfcition... so just please ignore that huge plot hole that i’ve just created. 

Loosely edited. I will fully check over it this week, my loves. 

Sorry about the end. It’s midnight and i’m too tired to write a whole ass scene. 

Enjoy!

The drive to the compound was a little over twenty minutes, the late night traffic of Brooklyn lightly flooding the roads. Sarah was in the back seat, strapped in her car seat joyously maundering about making new friends tonight. That child was a social butterfly, never really understanding the stranger-danger rule, one you and Steve often tried to implement into her impressionable mind. Steve looked into the rearview mirror, shooting the mini chatty cathy a large smile. 

Arriving at the event, ponds of cars littered the street, valet attendants frantically rushing around to the lineup of many pretentious cars. Once a valet had taken your car, Steve stepped out, first helping you from the passenger seat and then unbuckling Sarah. All three Rogers casually strolled into the multi-level tower, its height unfathomable. Heading to the back elevators, which weren’t crowded, for you all knew the compound layout better than most of the guests. Sarah’s hands held your’s and Steve’s as she was sandwiched between the two of you, yet happily swinging her parents’ hands with her own.

Sam immediately greeted you, Steve and Sarah, quickly inviting you all over for a friendly game of pool with some older gentlemen. Of course, since Sarah was only three, she couldn't play pool and instead joyously watched as the billiard balls fell into the pockets, only piquing her interest as she wondered where the pockets led to. You and Steve decided to share one cue stick, each shooting while the other held Sarah, who babbled to the parent holding her at that time. 

About halfway through the game, Steve had noticed you were shivering just a smidge. He swiftly laid the cue stick against the pool table as it wasn't his turn anyway. Taking off the leather jacket, Steve wrapped it around your shoulders, prompting you to turn your attention and body back towards the pool table and him.

“You scared me, Rogers.” You jocosely squinted at the man then handing Sarah over so you could properly wear the oversized leather jacket. The pleasant and familiar cologne wrapped around your body as if it were a warm and securing hug. By the time you had finished your mini conversation with Steve it was your turn to play pool, Sarah preciously becoming your cheerleader. 

Steve had ventured off with Sam while you and Sarah had ended up with Tony, Thor and Maria, painfully listening to Rhodey’s recollection of his time as the War Machine. 

“Well, you know the suit can take the weight. So I take the tank, fly it right up to the General’s Palace, drop it at his feet, and I’m like BOOM, you looking for this?” 

Tony and Thor just looked at Rhodey with an unamused look while Sarah giggled at the story, not really understanding but laughing at the funny voice he had used. Reiterating himself, Rhodey repeated the story in hopes of getting a better reaction from his crowd. 

“Boom. Are you looking- why do I even talk to you guys? Everywhere else that story kills.”

The disappointed man turns to face you, his hand up, expecting a high five. You just look at him before laughing and shaking your head, while Sarah glady gives Rhodey her hand in place of yours. 

“Well that's the whole story?”

Rhodey turned back to Thor with a mirthless expression.

“Yes, that’s the War Machine story.”

Thor turned to Tony, then back to Rhodey, laughing deeply and then responding with what you had assumed was sarcasm.

“Oh it’s very good then. It’s impressive!”

“Quality save.” 

Amused at Thor’s attempt, Rhodey then changed the subject, the conversation moving faster than Steve could run.

“Gentlemen, where are the ladies?” 

Maria’s simple question turned into a compliment battle between Tony and Thor. 

Sarah continued to giggle and out stretched her arms to the man beside you, a signal to hold her. Stopping your own laughter, you hand Sarah over to Rhodey who was just as giddy as the little girl in his arms.

“Go find your hubby!” Rhodey nudged you in the shoulder and you gave him and Sarah a quick hug before going your separate ways. You shot the two gloating men with a look of mock disappointment, bidding Maria a “good luck”, and then leaving at Rhodey’s wishes. 

“What happened to him?” You walked to stand beside Steve, watching as an older gentleman, drunkenly passed out, was being carried by two younger men. 

“This.” Steve brought the glass to your lips, a sour look tainting your face after just a small sip.

“My god, what is that?! It takes like fire!” A hearty chuckle left Steve as he pointed to Thor who was holding a small flask and doing shots with a group of men. 

Sarah was still with Tony, allowing you and Steve to go enjoy some time with each other. The two of you just stood on the balcony, your arms linked together as the stars brightly painted the sky. It had been a while since you and Steve had such a heartfelt conversation, both recalling old memories. Not only was the man linked beside you, your husband, but also your best friend. You and Steve have always shared everything with the other, whether it be tears or laughter. This man was literally the epitome of your everything. 

“Do you remember when you listened to a few of my vinyls for weeks just so you could learn the words?” 

Steve’s lips were on your head as he talked, leaving gentle kisses.

A chuckle left your mouth at the adorable yet embarrassing memory.

It was in the beginning of your relationship when you and Steve were just months into a relationship. Steve had always let you choose the music. He even learned how to use cd’s in a boombox, quite the change from vinyls and a record player. Well, one day, Steve had left for a mission, one you were not needed for. During the day that he was gone, you spent hours trying to figure out how to use his record player. When you finally did, that day all you listened to were the vinyls, engraving every word into your mind.  

“I couldn’t figure out how to play the vinyls.” A small pout wiggled onto your lips, one Steve kissed away then pulled from your face chuckling breathily. 

“Don’t laugh at your wife’s pain!”

“I’m not trying to! You are just so damn adorable. I see where Sarah gets it from.”

An hour later, you and Steve had parted ways and you were currently strolling over to the bar, a martini in mind, but when your daughter came bounding at you, hugging your leg, your plans for a drink changed.

“Hi, Mommy!” Unlatching the girl from your leg, you leaned down to pick her up, seeing Tony now staring at you with a look of relief. Sarah must’ve run from him at the sight of her mother. 

You waved Tony away, bidding him back to his conversation. 

“What are you doing, Mommy?” 

“I was just about to get a drink.” 

“Ohhh can I have one?”

After her request, you explained to her that some drinks were for adults. Martini long forgotten, you instead went to order a shirley temple to share with Sarah. At first she was confused since you had just explained that the drinks from the bar were for adults, but then you further told her some drinks were okay. Long story short, Sarah had just learned that she must ask you or Steve since you would both know what to order her.

Now done with the most confusing lesson you’ve ever taught Sarah, you continued your walk to the bar.

Natasha was behind the counter, currently pouring a drink for herself while she and Bruce returned some playful chatter. A few minutes passed and their conversation ended. Smirking, Nat left the flustered man with your husband, who had just shown up at the end of the counter for a beer himself.

“It’s nice.”

Bruce turned to look at Steve, genuinely confused, partly to Steve’s statement and then Natasha's flirting. 

“You and Romanoff.” 

Once all the pieces finally clicked in the clueless man’s head, he instantly denied the claims thrown his way. 

Deciding to finally join the conversation, you walked up beside Steve, who was happily surprised at your appearance, with Sarah on your hip. 

“Yeah, you both are adorable!” 

Poor Bruce was a ball of nerves not even able to form the words to repudiate your comment. 

“It’s okay, nobody’s breaking any bylaws.”

Sarah’s attention had now shifted from the mature conversation and to Thor who was a few feet away. The man was making funny faces at her, snickers ensuing. Tapping your shoulder politely, she then pointed to Thor and you set her down, watching her run away, never once peeling away your eyes until she made it into the safe hold of the man, who shot a thumbs up allowing you to return to Steve and Bruce’s conversation. 

“It’s just that she’s not the most… open person in the world, but with you she seems very relaxed.” 

“Agreed. You two are practically like Steve and I!” 

“No, Natasha, she just likes to flirt.” 

“I’ve seen her flirt. Up close. And this ain’t that.” Your husband reached for a beer, then holding his arm out for you. 

“Look, as maybe the world’s leading authority on waiting too long. Don’t. You both deserve a win.” 

Steve gave Bruce a heartening smile, waiting as you unlatched your arm from his. You placed a friendly peck on the man’s cheek before giving him some words of reassurance.

“Don’t underestimate your worth.” Bruce then gave you both a small meek smile, returning to his drink. 

“What do you mean up close!” You and Steve were already long gone yet still able to hear Bruce’s cry of befuddlement to which your husband smirked, causing you to scoldingly slap him on the chest.

“You're absolutely terrible, Grant.” 

As expected, Steve just laughed at your reprimand. Whenever you scolded him, it usually involved his middle name being crammed somewhere into your lengthy chide. Like a disciplined child, he’d listen pitifully. Most of the time you’d chastise him for his reckless nature, that scared you to death. Then he’d apologize a thousand times while planting kisses all over your face, making you giggle endlessly, certainly failing at keeping up the irritated facade.  

“Yet, you love me, doll.” Steve had somehow dragged you to the dance floor, pulling your flush to him as the song began. You brought your arms to his neck, noses touching as he proudly smiled down on you, slightly tightening his grip on your waist. The two of you swayed slowly, your lips connected softly. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

Once the song had finished it was replaced with an upbeat line dance to which you and Steve briskly rushed off the floor being met with Sarah who sat at a table with Natasha, cheering at you and Steve.

“Mommy, Daddy! That was omazing!” 

“Well, how about you and I go get some celebration cake for everyone!”

As any sane toddler, Sarah agreed to her father’s delectable plan. Steve plucked his daughter from Natasha’s lap, then taking yours and hers order. Once the two had left, you dived right into a conversation with Nat. The topic; Bruce.

Not too long after, the party ended and all Avengers then regrouped, tiredly surrounding the large coffee table covered in takeout and Thor’s hammer idly resting on the end. 

“But it’s a trickkkk.” Clint dragged out his statement to emphasize his belief, the little girl sitting beside you, smiling wider. 

“No. no. it’s much more than that.” Steve and Thor exchanged the flask as you stared at it, still revolted by its god-awful taste. 

“Ah, whosoever be he worthy shall haveth the power.” You leaned towards the table, reaching for the carton, laughing at Clint’s truthful reenactment. 

“Whatever man, it’s a trick!”

Arising a challenge, Thor pointed to Mjolnir. 

“Please, be my guest.” 

“Come on.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah.”

Clint got up from his seat on the ground, walking confidently towards the hammer as Tony let out a snarky remark.

“Clint, you’ve had a tough week, we won’t hold it against you if you can’t get it up.”

Laughter circled around as Clint came up to Thor, a promising look on his face.

“You know I’ve seen this before right?” 

With one hand, Clint attempted to pull the hammer, utilizing all his strength not an ounce unused. 

“I still don’t know how you do it.” 

“Smell the silent judgement?” Giggles escaped yours and Sarah’s lips as Steve turned to see his two best girls enjoying the amusement. 

“Please, Stark, by all means.” 

With arrogant poise, Stark raised from his seat, scooting to the table as you could picture his impending disappointment, already laughing at the mere thought. 

“Never one to shrink from an honest challenge.” 

Rolling up his sleeves, Tony placed his arm in the handle of the hammer.

“Right, so, if I lift it, I then rule Asgard?” 

“Yes, of course.” Thor calmly replied, just basking in the free entertainment from his competitive friends. You could see Steve who was beside him, trying his best to contain his laughter. Directing Sarah’s attention from Tony and to Steve, she held in her own laughter as you explained what was happening. 

“I will be reinstituting Prima Nocta.” To no surprise, the hammer didn’t budge leaving Tony quickly trying to cover his displeasure. 

Tony then returned with his suit’s hand, the hammer still resting on the table. Even Rhodey joined Tony’s unsuccessful conquest. 

“Are you even pulling?” 

“Are you on my team?”

“Just represent. Pull.” 

Next up was Bruce, who also failed, luckily not hulking out on everyone. Natasha gave him a smile while Steve and Thor tried to hide their merriment.  

After Bruce’s fruitless attempt, it soon became your husband’s turn. 

“Come on, Cap.” 

Steve then pulled on the hammer with all his brawn. You weren’t even sure if you were paying attention to the hammer anymore, too caught up on the shirt clinging to Steve. 

Your attention span was then proved when the hammer moved up. Sarah’s eyes widened as did yours. Thor had obviously noticed since you sensed some tensity from him. Steve tried once again, this time receiving the same futile result as the rest. When the hammer stopped budging you saw the now relieved man swiftly try to cover up his reaction. A nervous chuckle escaping his lips, echoing into the glass. 

“Nothing!” 

“Mrs. & lil Ms. Rogers?” Steve outstretched his hand to yours and Sarah’s, guiding you both towards the hammer. All three of you grabbed the hammer. Steve holding the handle while you and Sarah pulled at the stick. Everyone’s combined strength was enough to lift the hammer had it not been of otherworldly decent. Giving up, Sarah was just a smidge disappointed, perking back to herself at Tony’s quip.

“Even the House of Rogers failed too.” You shot Stark a faux look of vexation from the couch, to which he returned with his tongue poking out. Sarah caught this and then ran to him copying his action while you went to sit on Steve’s lap.

“And, Widow?”

Natasha sipped her beer and shook her head. 

“That’s not a question I need answered.” 

The night continued on with conspiracy theories about the hammer and playful jabs at Steve’s slip-up on his choice of words from the mission recently, Sarah enjoying every moment of the time albeit past her bedtime. 

At some point, Sarah had fallen asleep on your shoulder as you and Steve bid your fellow Avengers goodbye. 

Indeed, today has been one of the best days, all in part to your lovely family and closest friends. 

[k7l4d4]

Blood for Blood: An Owl House Story Chapter 1 Part 5

Here’s part 5! Everybody clap your hands!!

Thunder and lightning crashed, illuminating the ominous visage of the building known only as The Conformatorium. Just the name made Luz want to retch.

Luz turned to Eda, a flat stare on her face. “You lied.” She should’ve known this was gonna happen. It was so obvious! The ominous name, the implied danger, it was all there! Eh, she would’ve done it anyway. 

“You said this would be a fun place, and you lied.” Ordinarily the bark of laughter she got from Eda would’ve served to annoy her, but right now? All Luz could think about was the thrill, the rush of the heist. “Alright, so what’s the game plan?” 

She drew back both arms and stretched them out, idly taking notice of the nearby bounty poster of Eda and- WOW that’s a lot of zeroes. Hmmm.... no, bad Luz, no contemplating turning in the nice witch lady for the reward money and breaking her out later. It never works.

“Well, kid.” Eda began, deftly snatching the poster off the wall and smugly stashing it in her nest of hair. She twirled her staff, generating a glowing platform before them. “You and King are gonna use this platform here to get to the top of the Conformatorium and make your way to the vault. I’m gonna go and cause a distraction so the two of you don’t get caught.” 

Luz nodded, it was a good plan, if a little basic, but Eda definitely had the look of experience that said she had done this sort of thing before. The huffs and grunts behind her, and Eda’s muffled laughter, caused Luz to turn her head, taking in the frankly, adorable sight of King struggling to lift himself on to the platform. 

With a snort, Luz flipped on her hood, best not to let anyone peg on to her being human right now, and smoothly lifted herself and King onto the platform.

With a flick of the wrist and a cheery salute, Eda sent them on their way. As the window that would serve as their entry point drew nearer, Luz tucked King under one arm, ignoring his protests of course, and prepped herself to jump. 

As the platform reached its apex, predictably just out of reach of the window, to Luz’s deadpan, Luz sprung into action. With an expert flip, and a self-reminder to thank Mami for insisting on Parkour lessons, Luz leapt through the window and stuck a three-point landing on the other side.

King blinked, struggling momentarily forgotten. “Huh. Gotta say, you got some good moves human.” What else could he say? King of Demons or not, he knew skill when he saw it, and this human girl had it in spades. He wondered where she learned though.

With a cheeky grin, Luz headed deeper into the prison. As she analyzed the environment around her, she never knew when she might need to know the layout of this place after all, Luz’s attention was drawn by a shout to the side.

“Hey, Cat Lady?” Did this vampire looking chick call her a- oh, wait, her hood. Right. “How’d you get out of your cell?” 

Eh, fair question, and she probably had a little time before Eda got a big enough ruckus going anyway. Even if King moved on ahead, it wasn’t like his tiny legs could carry him very far.

“Oh, I’m not a cat.” Luz replied, lightly tugging on her hood to show. She then made a move to take a closer look at the cells. “I’m not a prisoner either. I gotta ask, what did you guys even do to end up in a lovely place like this?” She made sure to inject enough sarcasm into her voice so that it didn’t go unnoticed, and by the smirks she got, the prisoners got it too.

The vampire-looking one let out a huff of bitter amusement, the kind you here from someone who’s so used to the crap life throws at them that they start to find it funny. 

“We didn’t fit in.” 

Whoa, back up. Her shock, and most likely anger must’ve shown on her face, ‘cause the prisoner elaborated. 

“Heh, you must be pretty new around here if you don’t know things work in Bonesburough. Me? I got locked up for writing fanfiction about food falling in love with each other.” There was no mistaking the bitter sadness in her voice, and on a side note, Luz was very interested in reading her work, but now wasn’t the time. 

The multi-eyed prisoner spoke up next, “I’m here because I like to eat my own eyes.” He liked to wha- oh, he literally popped out his eyes, swallowed them, and they grew back. Huh, a little creepy, but harmless, apparently. A muffled yelling could be heard coming form the last cell, which turning to revealed a small white creature that seemed to be all head. 

The fanfic prisoner piped up, dry amusement in her voice, “Yeah, she’s big on conspiracy theories, and really hates the government. She got so loud the guards rigged up a gag connected to her cell; it only opens when it’s time to eat, or the cell opens.” Now that? That was just cruelty.

“Yeah, none of those things are actual, you know, crimes, right?” The solemn nods she got cemented it. No way was she leaving these guys here. When you ran outside the law, you always accepted the risk that you would end up behind bars. 

These guys? They did NOTHING that would justify keeping them here, and there was no way Luz Noceda would stand for it either! With a grunt of anger, Luz rushed for the nearby switch to the cells, panting and yanking at it, silently cursing herself for neglecting her muscle training lately. Before she could make any headway, an ominous thumping started coming her way.

Luz quickly ducked into the nearest cell, shooting a grateful glance at the Fanfic Writer as she lightly pushed Luz further into the shadows to hide her. As the hulking, massive figure of what could only be Warden Wrath himself stepped into view, Luz felt a surge of blistering rage at the person responsible for these guys being stuck here. 

“I can hear you.” Jeez, even his voice sounded sadistic. What did this guy do, gargle hot lava for effect every morning?

“What are you fools whispering about? Ah... the Owl Lady.” Her murmured, catching sight of one of Eda’s posters on the ground, crushing it in his grasp. 

“She escaped me before, but she won’t this time.” Oh boy, this guy had it out for Eda specifically, meaning this whole thing was starting to feel a little trap-like. At the muffled shouts of the gagged Conspiracy Prisoner got louder, Wrath calmly stepped over to the switch for the cells. Luz didn’t like where this was heading.

Her fears were proven right as, upon being released, both from the cell and the gag, Tiny Nose instantly rushed Wrath and started feebly pelting his leg. In response, Wrath calmly bent down, and crushed Tiny Nose in his grip. 

As her stomach churned at the sadistic act, Luz idly noted his control to be able to leverage just enough force to hurt Tiny Nose without killing her.

“Let this be a lesson to you, there is no place in society if you can’t fit in.” And there was that blistering rage again. Hi Rage! Yeah, this guy had just upgraded himself from threat to someone who she was going to have to hurt. Sorry Eda, but there was no way Luz was leaving without giving this freak a lasting reminder of herself.

“Go on kid.” With the warden gone, the prisoners finally found their voices again. “Enjoy freedom for us.” With a sad smile, the Writer Prisoner insistently sent Luz on her way, adding yet another reason to put the hurt on Wrath before she was done. 

Sending one last sad glance back herself, Luz made her way over to a slightly worried King up ahead. She wasn’t having fun anymore. She just wanted to get this over with.

I was gonna make this the last part of chapter 1, but decided to split it into six instead. Everybody clap your hands!!

[xtolovers]

The Anvil

Pairing: Aloy x Erend Rating: M ( albeit in later chapters) Warnings: Graphic Mentions of Violence, slight mentions of alcoholism AO3

Chapter 5: First Watch

He stumbles his way down to the shoreline and hopes that Aloy can ’t see his fumbling movements. Prays she is only joking. As he reaches the water he forces his hands to unfasten the straps and clasps of his armor and his head to stop thinking. When he finally sinks beneath the cool surface, he imagines steam rising from his face the same way steel evaporates every liquid it is tempered with. Erend takes a few swift strokes beneath the surface before he comes up again, kneeling in the water and just letting the river run past him. The current is just slow enough to not carry him with it as long as he leans against it.

As he fails not to think about Aloy ’s retort, he wonders if he would also feel so out of his depth here if this had happened before Ersa left for Red Ridge Pass, back when she was there to be his backbone. People mistook him for the warrior and Ersa for the diplomat, but for all her social cunning, Ersa was also made of steel, and while he did not look it, ore was not the only thing he could smith— words had always come easy to him, too. Sure, his position as envoy to the Nora was in part given to him because he was Ersa’s brother— but Erend knew and had proved that he was skilled around people. Back when they had taken Meridian back, Ersa had not been the only one to deliver rousing speeches.

No, he might be an oaf most of times, but Erend trusts himself with words, speeches, diplomacy. He trusts himself with people. He certainly used to trust himself with women. While he hasn ’t been the womanizer some of the Vanguard are — he is aware of the reputation he has to uphold, in general, even if he fails that occasionally — he has also not been without his conquests.

So why the fuck am I so out of my depth all of a sudden?

Ersa was likely not dead, but clearly this had all shaken him up more than he thought. In all this effort to figure out how to be Ersa, he had apparently also forgotten how to be Erend. But he knows that mostly, it just comes down to Aloy being Aloy. There is something so bright about her, it’s like looking into the sun, and something so fierce about her, that it feels like a Stormbird using that sun to it’s advantage for an attack. He certainly feels spark-struck when she is around, try as he might, he can’t deny it. He really should know better. There is something so entirely her own about her, and Erend thinks it must have to do with her not growing up in any clan. Sure, for the most part, she was Nora, but not in the literal sense. He’d seen his fair share of Nora, and Aloy was far from them. Her experiences with other people and tribes were limited, and so nothing has influenced her to be anything other than unapologetically herself, and Erend likes that about her. Maybe too much.

Although, he remembers their first conversation, and he ’d made a mess of that too, way before Ersa was taken. So this was all him, incapable of not making a fool of himself around her. But she’s still talking to him, so maybe he hadn’t messed up too bad.

His cheeks sufficiently cooled, he goes about washing himself, quickly, efficiently, and definitely not thinking about Aloy ’s words. Minutes later, when he’s heading up to the camp again, he briefly considers asking her if she liked what she saw, but ultimately decides against the teasing. He tells himself it’s because he wants to make her comfortable, and not because he is terrified of the answer. As he comes over the ridge, Aloy looks up at him, and gives him the faintest smile. “Feeling better?” “Like a fresh-born babe, just passed over the forge,” he says and stretches theatrically before joining her at the fire. “Passed over the forge?”, she asks, looking up from the arrows she is fletching. Erend nods and puts the kettle back on the fire. “When an Oseram child is born, a day or two later, the whole family — or sometimes clan, depending on the size— gathers around the family’s forge, stokes the fires high, and the parents stand on each side of it. Then the mother passes the babe through the flames, over the anvil, into the fathers arms. It’s a symbolic way of bringing it into the world, a rite of passing through fire, the first step to the destiny that child will forge. It’s supposed to be good luck, for the child, and the forge. Fire, steel and grit for the babe, and fresh life and a strong future for the forge. That is also the day the child gets its name, and the parents will forge something together, and engrave it with the name they’ve chosen. That way, the name and the life of the child is set solid in steel.” He looks up at her then, and she’s staring at him, equally fascinated and wistful. Erend knows she is always curious, but he wonders if he’s made her sad, and well, he can’t have that. “And then, everyone gets drunk,” he grins at her, and the spell is broken, and there’s the eye roll he’s come to know. “Everyone? Even the child?”, she asks with a grin. “Ah,” he mumbles and scratches the back of his head, “ just a sip, really.” Aloy snorts. “ Let me guess: A blessing to guarantee a strong stomach and a cup that’s never empty?” “Now, you try to tell me again you’re no Oseram!” She’s laughing with him, and giddy, he teases, “Although, you’re too skinny for that.” Her laughter stops, replaced by a frown, and he hurries to lift up his hands in apology. “I was only teasing! There is absolutely nothing wrong with the way you look. I mean— ,” he stops himself before he can make it worse. Berating himself, he brushes his hand through his mohawk. Aloy is silent for a moment, then asks, in a low voice: “What happens if the mother can’t be there?” “Hm, the grandmother or aunt, or any other female relative will do it. If nobody’s there, usually one of the elders will step in. It’s more about the gesture than the parents, although everyone wishes for the mother to be there, of course.” She takes that in silently, nodding to herself. When she doesn’t answer, he asks : “What about the Nora? Any naming traditions or something of the sort? I bet there’s half a dozen, with the fascination with motherhood and all that.” Aloy looks up at him, shaken out of her reverie. “ Uh… The parents take the child up through the valleys and mountains on a ledge high up on a cliff opposite Mother’s Heart, the last night of their fifth month. There is a small temple there, and one or all of the Matriachs will wait for them there. Then, they wait for sunrise. When the first light of the first day of their sixth month rises above the All-Mother and touches them, the parents proclaim the name, and if the name is called back by the mountains, the child is blessed by All-Mother.” “What if the name is not called back?”, he asks, and Aloy makes a face that answers his question. “They get shunned?! Because they didn’t yell loud enough?! ” He really tries to be respectful, but the sheer stupidity makes him angry. “Oh no, not them. Just the child,” Aloy says, and there is a

fierce rage in her eyes, that quickly dwindles to embers as she shakes her head and stares into the fire. “Of course, the parents can decide to be shunned alongside, if they want to.” “Fire and spit,” he curses. The Nora had irked him when he was there, but it was mostly because their world made no sense. Now, they make him angry. Aloy is cleaning feathers, the knuckles white from the hard grip on her knife. He shouldn’t ask. Erend knows he shouldn’t. But the night has grown quiet around them, and this might be the only time he’ll ever learn more about her. So he tries, gently. “So… Is that what happened? The All-Mother did not call your name back? You- you don’t have to tell me, if I’m being too forward here, just tell me to shove off.” Aloy looks at him then, for a long moment, head tilted to the side, and he forces himself to meet her eyes, now golden next to the fire, to show her there is no malice in his question. After what feels like ages, she comes to a decision, and shakes her head. “No, it’s alright. You can ask,” she sighs, but it sounds more wistful than defeated. “I’m only curious, you really don’t need to tell me about it if you don’t want to.” Aloy gives him the smallest smile and shakes her head. “ It’s not that, it’s just… until recently, everybody I ’ve ever met knew why I was cast out. It’s strange to have to talk about it. And I guess it was nice being known for something else.” She shrugs, eyes turning back to the flames. “Hey,” he says to get her attention, draw her eyes away from the fire and to his, because he needs her to know that he is serious, for once. “ If you don’t want to tell me, that is okay. I was just curious. It’s up to you. But I promise, whatever you tell me… Well, I’ve already told you what I think about the Nora and their shunning practices. You’re not an outcast to me. I promise, you’ll… just be Aloy. And if you never want to talk about any of it, that’s fine, too. Just tell me to, and I’ll never ask again.” Aloy studies him for a moment, a frown on her face, and Erend thinks he’s done it again, talked himself into a dead end. But then she smiles and nods, and starts talking. “No, I was not shunned because my name was not called back. Rost did that for me, and the name was accepted. I was shunned because I am motherless . ” There is no way to miss the bitterness on the last word. His stomach drops, and he wants to say he’s sorry, but Aloy shakes her head. “No, not what you think. My mother did not die in childbirth— at least I don’t think so. I … In the caverns of All-Mother Mountain, there is a metal door. That is where I was found, as a baby. In a place that his forbidden for anyone but the Matriarchs. There was no one to claim me. And having no mother is the greatest crime a Nora can commit.” The bitterness is back, and she’s staring into the flames. “Lansra was convinced I was the child of the Metal Devil, and wanted me killed, but Teersa convinced Jezza I was a blessing by All-Mother. They could not agree, so they came to a compromise: I would be allowed to live, but not among the tribe. They gave me to Rost, and he raised me, but he was sworn to never tell me what he knew of my birth, and oath he kept. All I ever knew was that my crime was having no mother.”The rage Erend feels at that is a sweltering forge-fire between his chest and his stomach, and he ’s glad he’s not going to be returning to the Nora lands any time soon.So Rost was not her father, Erend thinks, and faintly remembers her words at the gates: The man who raised me. Erend is no religious man, but he sends out a prayer of gratitude for the man who had taken her in, glad she had not been completely alone. “That’s horrible,” he says, laying all the empathy he feels for her into his voice, and she gives him a weak smile. Then he shakes his head fiercely. “ I’m glad Teersa talked sense into the others. She seemed the most reasonable, for a Nora. Sorry,” he adds, shooting

her a sheepish look, but Aloy just barks a hard laugh. “Don’t be. You’re right.” “Lansra was the one with the gigantic headdress?” Aloy nods, and Erend gives a theatrical shudder. “ Colder than an anvil on a ruined forge, that one. Wouldn’t even talk to me or the other blasphemous outlanders. Now that I know that story, I’m glad about that. It probably wouldn’t have done any good for Nora-Carja relations if I’d’ve given her a piece of mind about her customs. Avad might’ve had to fire me.” “I’m sure you could’ve talked yourself out of it. You handled the Nora pretty well,” Aloy says with a smile, and his face grows hot again. “Ah, that was just luck,” he says, and before she can answer, before she can remember how he’d made a fool out of himself in front of her right after that incident, he asks: “ So you ran in the Proving to be accepted into the tribe again? Teersa mentioned some of the rules when she was explaining the whole thing to us.” Aloy looks down at her arrows then, fingers idly playing with the fletching. “No. … Maybe. Mostly I did it because the winner gets one wish from the matriarchs.” She falls silent then, but Erend knows her enough by now to confidently piece together what she wanted. “And you wanted to know who your mother was.” She shoots him a glance. “ I wanted answers, yes. Why I was shunned, who my mother was… I wanted them to look at me and justify it. Maybe I wanted to be part of the tribe too, if only to see… But I don’t think it would’ve lasted. I would not have been allowed to talk to Rost, so I was set on breaking the rules the moment I set foot in Mother’s Heart. I doubt I would’ve stayed part of the tribe for long.” “That does sound like you,” he says with a smile he can’t help,” and I don’t think anybody could blame you. I wouldn’t want to be part of the tribe either, after all they’ve done to you.” A small glance at her tells him she’s lost in thought, but relaxed, so he probes, gently: “ But then the Proving was attacked. So now you’re looking for answers elsewhere?” Aloy smiles, but it’s a sad smile. “No, I won. Before the Eclipse attacked, I won. And then… well, I woke up wounded inside All-Mother Mountain, and Teersa showed me where she found me. Told me that I was motherless. And then…, “ she hesitates, and Erend waits patiently, “then they made me a seeker, to go find answers, find the killers. And I left.” There’s something she doesn’t tell him, Erend knows, but he won’t press her. He’s glad that she has shared this much with him. She’s already told him that Rost died to save her, and it’s clear it was during the attack, and he won’t make her remember that. “Well, if anyone can find them, and your answers, it is you,” Erend says, full of confidence. There are still a thousand questions he has for her, but he doesn’t want them if she does not offer. So Erend swallows them, hoping that he’s shown her that if she wants, she can tell him anything, and let’s it go, saying only: “ Thank you for telling me.” Aloy doesn’t meet his eyes, focusing on her arrows for a moment. “Thank you for listening,” she says in a small voice that rips his heart clean in half. “Always,” he tells her, voice thick, and he clears his throat to mask the entirely unbidden intensity . But if her reaction is anything to go by, he will take the embarrassment, if it means she knows she doesn ’t have to carry these things alone. She doesn’t answer, but he thinks there is the slightest pink to her cheeks, although that is probably only the fire playing tricks, and they both fall silent. It’s no uncomfortable silence, more companionable, Aloy fletching her arrows, Erend cleaning his armor with the hot water, the night heavy around them. “What did your parents forge for you?” Erend looks up and finds her studying him, melancholy gone. “ A small knife,” he answers, and pulls it out of it’s sheath at his side. He passes it over to her, lets her study it. The

glyphs of his name are faded, but still readable, and she traces them with her fingers. “It’s customary for boys.” “It’s pretty,” she says, then eyes him again, “ And what did they make for Ersa?” He can see her hesitation in the question, unsure if the topic is welcome or not, and he can see her react when his expression turns dark, but he waves her apology away. “She got a brooch, like most girls.” Aloy’s scowl matches his own, and he grins. “Yeah, naturally, she loved that. Told you you two will get along. You know what she did? Turn the knife around.” She did as he asked, and he could see surprise and then a laugh as she traced the crudely written glyphs, spelling out his sisters name. “When she was ten, she got into a pretty bad argument with our father of wanting her own knife. He turned her down, harshly, like he was used to do. So I offered her mine.” “Isn’t that bad luck?” Aloy asks. “Nah, we’re not that superstitious. Besides, she engraved my name on her brooch, too.” “Sounds like you are close,” she says with a soft voice as she hands him back the knife. There’s the bile again, rising in his throat, and he fights it down. “Yeah,” he answers, softly, and then adds without thinking: “We had to be.” Aloy looks up and starts to ask him why, but that is a topic he is not ready to think about right now, not as long as Ersa isn’t safe and sound back by his side, so he grins and diverts the subject. “You know, maybe it was bad luck. My father always complained I was too soft, and Ersa too hard. Maybe we mucked it up when we engraved our names on the other ’s gifts.” It’s half a joke, and not that far from the topic before, but Aloy can’t know that. Still, she scowls. “Too soft? Why would he say that? You can hold your own on a battlefield, I’ve seen it, and you helped Avad take back Meridian.” Erend is definitely going red now, and hopes the darkness hides it. “Uh, yes, I can hold my own, but I always liked talking, I was always better than Ersa at being sociable. She was always the warrior out of the two of us. True steel. In comparison to her, I’m soft.” The scowl on Aloy’s face is deep now. “You’re not— that’s not a bad thing,” she says, voice hard and angry. He wonders what he’s done wrong now, until he realizes that Aloy isn’t angry at him, she’s angry for him, and his heart feels like he ’s dropped it straight from the Sun’s Terrace down into the canyon below. He stutters out a thank you, and Aloy looks down at her arrows again with a curd nod, resuming her work, mouth set in a grim line. Erend stops himself from imagining what made her say that, because he realizes that is a dangerous path to take. But the only other thing that comes to mind instead, are memories of his childhood, and thoughts of Ersa, and that is path he doesn’t want to take right now, so he asks Aloy how she wants to handle the next morning. They plan together, and agree that it might take them until mid-day to get the men ready to ride, but Aloy thinks it is worth the delay. They can rest through the heat, then ride a few hours, she says, and then make camp early, because the men will be sore after a couple of hours. “It takes a moment getting used to,” she grins. Erend doesn’t doubt it. Aloy expects them to reach the border of the Carja lands the evening after that, if they make good way, and from there on out they assume it might take them a day more to reach Pitchcliff. Aloy has not been there yet, but it would be two days more on foot, up into the mountains, Erend knows. “It all depends on if we run into trouble of course, but that could happen on foot, too. This way, we might be able to just outrun it,” Aloy says. Erend can’t believe it. Four days instead of seven or eight. “ I’ll get up a little earlier tomorrow and scout the area, find us a herd of Broadheads. We passed Striders before, but I think those might be a bit uncomfortable, especially for Oren,” she says with a

little grin, “ There’s a plateau to the east of here where I’ve had luck before. Might take me an hour or two to get back here.” “Should I come with you?” “No, I’m—” she starts, but he waves his hand. “Faster alone, I know,” he grins. “ Still, if you’re not back after breakfast, we’ll come look for you, okay?” He sees her want to argue, but she seems to bite it down. “I’ll leave a trail.”Satisfied and a little surprised, he nods. “ You should go to sleep then. Our shift is almost over anyways, and if you’re going to get up earlier, you should get the sleep now.” Aloy hesitates, but again, she surprises him and rises. “ Tell them to wake me an hour before dawn,” she says as she gathers her arrows and armor and stows them away. Before she heads to her tent, she looks down at him, uncertain. Whatever she wants to say, she seems to decide against it. She gives him a small smile, and wishes him a good night before she slips into her tent. Erend let’s out a huff and rubs his face. If he didn’t know better, this whole situation would feel like a big, cosmic joke. He spends the next half an hour drinking more tea, desperately trying not to think too much. Eventually, he pulls out the knife, studying the clumsy glyphs spelling Ersa . A wave of sadness rushes over him, but Erend shoulders it and forbids himself to grieve. Nothing is set in steel yet. She ’s survived worse before. And this time, she has him. Not just him, but Aloy, too, and that gives him more hope than he dares to feel. I ’m coming, Ersa. Just hold on. Erend grits his teeth and slips the knife back into its sheath. As he downs the rest of his tea, he gets up to wake Andrik and Beren. As they take their place at the fire, he instructs them to tell Karan he shall wake Aloy an hour before dawn. They ask him why, but he dodges their questions, too tired, and the grin Beren has on his face as he starts to ask a questions dies as he sees Erend ’s face. It’s what he appreciates about them; as much as they love to rile him up and rib each other, they all know when to stop. When he’s finally in his tent, body tired and mind running with thoughts of Ersa, their childhood, and more than occasionally, Aloy, Erend finally sinks into sleep.

Notes:Um. Hi. It sure has been a year, huh? Sorry for the long wait. This fic is not abandoned however, and never will be, even if I am awful at updating. Thank you to all who are still here, welcome to all that are new. Kudos and comments are always much much appreciated and give me incentive to write more!

[barefoot-pianist]

Les Mis – Sondheim Theatre (New Production) – 28/01/20

** HUGE HUGE SPOILER ALERT! CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED**

**second disclaimer: it is nearly half midnight and I’ve been on the go since 5:30am, please forgive rambling, meta commentary to myself, and bad grammar. I just wanted to get this all out whilst it was still fresh**

General

YES the new staging was 90% a hit. I liked it. It was great to see Les Mis performed in a radically different way, I think, and enough was kept (like, for example, the basic structure of One Day More) that it didn’t feel totally alien and I didn’t miss the turntable all that much?. The opening scene is now on a ship, rather than in a mine. More on specific stagings below.

THE. SET. WAS. BEAUTIFUL. There is literally no other word for it. The original Les Mis set is quite minimalist, I think, whereas this one was lush – heavily centred on the idea of houses, which really gave more of a feel to the Paris streets. They had tenements and posh houses, the barricade was still huge, don’t worry, and they had a staircase which was in the café and the Thenardiers’ inn, etc. The scale really worked as well – like in Who Am I, the courtroom felt enormous as opposed to the little mobile thing they had before.

A preface to this point is that I don’t think I’m the right person to offer a critical commentary on race & the cast of Les Mis, but I think it is worth flagging – will 100% defer to folks with more experience/expertise. There were four black cast members – Éponine, Gavroche, and two of the chorus, which is way more than I’ve ever seen in the West End in this damn show. I’m under no illusions that Les Mis in the UK hasn’t got a bit of a problem with race. It is slowly inching its way better – when the Bishop came out and he was black right at the beginning I had a moment of “finally? Are they finally doing this right?” but the diversity wasn’t quite as much as I’d hoped. Especially as in my head, I’ve developed a huge, very multi-racial dream cast for the show, so…yeah. I’d love to see some of the characters who always get played by white people played by folks of colour – Enjolras, for example, Grantaire, Valjean himself. Or have both Éponine and Cosette be not white? For once? This would be great? Please let me know what you all think?? (this is West-End specific, I know there have been some productions working on this elsewhere).

The general mood seemed a bit darker? More violent? Perhaps that was the updated lights and set, idk, but more fake blood abounded I felt, and yeah – more actual deliberate fight scenes. It worked, ngl, the world feels like it’s gotten to a darker place, and the new Les Mis reflects that in a way, doesn’t gloss over the violence. Again, I think more thinking will let me know what I actually think about this, but we’ll see.

ONTO SPECIFIC CHARACTERS & SCENES!

Valjean

·       Jon Robyns – he was brilliant, like, nearly as good as my holy grail (Killian Donnelly). Voice incredibly on-point – I’ve seen some Valjeans with really harsh voices which I don’t think fits the character – his Bring Him Home started so softly and gently and then really soared (until some twat decided to take a FLASH PHOTOGRAPH of him mid-song, whoever it was should have been ASHAMED of themselves).

·       He was so sweet with little Cosette! At the end of the curtain call, he and the actress had their own mini bow and then hugged, and he carried her off into the wings.

·       He really made more of Valjean’s physicality than other actors I’ve seen – perhaps to do with staging too – but his and Javert’s interactions were much more physical, violent, and in your face than they have been. It wasn’t OTT on his end I don’t think, but you definitely got the sense that he was trying to rein himself in and that the violence was still there? You know? But ofc NEVER towards Cosette or anyone unlike SOME adaptations I could mention (yes I am still bitter about the BBC trashfire, sorry to anyone who liked it but eh, imho, gross).

·       At the end, he and the Bishop have a hug in heaven! It was very sweet!

Javert

·       This is the second time I’ve seen Bradley Jaden in the role of Javert and I am a blessed human being (really want to take my Dad to see him too) because he has officially ruined every other Javert for me. Like ever. His characterisation feels very book Javert, very stern and uncompromising but more so than other Javerts, idk, it’s just his sheer stage presence as well, and his facial expressions and his general look…I can’t put my finger on it. He’s just phenomenal.

·       Stars was on this beautiful Parisian bridge (fake stone balustrade-style complete with four hanging lanterns) that came down from the flies, incredible backdrop, and he just brought the house down again.

·       Ngl – they have him actually holding a legit chain during the Confrontation and maybe I’ve read too much ship fic, but it certainly gives a whole new dimension to the line “Msieur le maire, you’ll wear a different chain!” Also especially as the Confrontation was so much more physical as well, they were properly fighting each other instead of just circling.

·       He was much more bloodied at the barricade, and there was this moment where he was being taken offstage as a prisoner and he’s on his knees in front of Enjolras, who’s very blonde hair is all you could see from where I was sitting, and they’re both in a spotlight, and the mood just really reminded me of the dynamic in the fic Les Hommes de la Misericorde by Kchan88 (which is great and you should read if you want to).

·       After the barricade, they incorporated that heartbreaking idea from the movie – Gavroche is lying dead in the front of the stage and Javert bends down to shut his eyes and crosses himself. There’s then a total reversal of the moment with Enjolras described above, but I’ll get to that in more detail in the Enjolras section.

·       In Javert’s Suicide, he did the complete breakdown thing again – which worked as he actually had blood on his face and long hair loose everywhere from the barricade scenes. Back on the pretty bridge, which split in two and he legit FLEW for the drowning scenes, so was thrashing suspended in midair as the lights and backdrop swirled around and behind him. That was something special.

Fantine

·       The one, the only, the Carrie Hope! She played a very understated Fantine? Which…I liked more than I thought I would? Like the voice came out at the end of I Dreamed a Dream, Lovely Ladies etc, but she was so…controlled? It perhaps felt odd after seeing her as Éponine and Veronica in Heathers where she let loose a lot more, but her Fantine just felt a little more mature, a little more resigned?

·       Her Fantine also gets put through the bloody wringer, jeez – the fight with the factory woman is much more physical (and when I say more physical, I actually think they were properly choreographed?) and with Bamabatois, who is just as grim but less slimy than the last actor I saw play him?

·       I’d kind of almost forgotten about her by the time she came out as a ghost at the end, but that bit was lovely, as it always is.

Éponine

·       Shan Ako was a scene stealer. Bloody hell she can sing – she put some pretty riffs in On My Own (small, but noticeable if you know the song) and her belting voice was unbelievable.

·       With the new set, you really get a feel of the Gorbeau tenement – she’s hanging around up there a bit. Also in Attack on the Rue Plumet, with the set the way it is (a house with a wrought iron balcony and a door, with the gate and fence extending out towards centre stage) you again get a feel for the scene in the book when Éponine basically says to her father and his gang that they’re dogs but she’s a wolf and she’s not afraid of them because she’s standing guarding the door with her arms wide…yeah, it really worked.

·       She and Gavroche are either friends or it’s a subtle nod to their siblinghood, as they fist bump right when Gav introduces Éponine.

·       On My Own was a tour de force – second standout of the night after Stars, for me.

·       Her A Little Fall of Rain was also gorgeous, and she had a real fizz with Marius, which was cute.

·       A rather large niggle – Shan Ako is black, and Young Éponine was white. Perhaps there was a last-minute emergency, but surely they could have got a little black actress to play Young Éponine? Idk, it just bothered me.

Cosette & Marius

·       Oh my god, Harry Apps as Marius – he Pontmercied around the place, and was so awkward and adorable! In Éponine’s errand, when he tried to go up the stairs, he banged into the set! During his bit in Red and Black he gets up on the staircase and starts full on declaiming, arms wide etc. His scene with Cosette in Heart Full of Love was gorgeous – he chucks a stone at her window, and she comes out, sees him, and disappears and he’s like “oh god I’m doing everything all wrong” and then she comes hurtling out of the front door instead and then stops and they stare at each other and it’s so cute! And then he’s just so self-conscious for the entire scene? And what’s so interesting is in the reprise at the end and the wedding, he’s so much more sure of himself – I really loved all the little nuances like that?

·       He’s also really young! He’s the complete unknown they cast off the open auditions for the UK tour, and he is bloody amazing – totally deserved that!

·       Lily Kerhoas was very charming as Cosette. I adore the character, but sometimes actresses play her too girly, which drives me a bit nuts, but she managed to pull off young/innocent/naïve/very soprano with a bit of practicality, heart, and edge. And there was a great moment when she and Éponine are both in the garden after, and getting that look in at each other without the gate in the way was really powerful.

·       Cosette and Marius had chemistry! It was lovely!

·       Empty Chairs – wow. So basically Turning (my underrated fave) was a range of women dressed in black who leave candles dotted all over the stage. Marius sings Empty Chairs surrounded by them, and (you guessed it) the dead Amis come in and all pick one up and Marius does too, and then they blow them out and leave and Marius is left holding the only lit one and blows it out then raises it like a toast and WOW MY FEELINGS WERE NOT PREPARED.

 Gavroche

·       This kid STOLE THE SHOW. LITERALLY. He was black too (like Éponine) and they had a proper little thing going, it felt like it really drew on the brother-sister Brick canon. He also felt very book-Gavroche, so cheeky and so serious at times.

·       They’ve changed his first set of lyrics in Look Down to be those from the movie, which…sure. Worked.

·       OKAY – in The Robbery, when Javert is like “everyone about your business/clear this garbage off the street” everyone scatters APART FROM GAV who’s pootling around behind Javert yelling “go on! You heard the man! Go away, even you!” and then when Javert turns to face him, Gav just does this irreverent little salute and saunters offstage and Javert just…lets him?? It was a FANTASTIC moment.

·       At the barricade when Gavroche busts Javert’s disguise, he goes right up to him and on “this only goes to show what little people can do” just cheerfully gives Javert a big old middle finger. Which was SO GREAT.

·       When Éponine is dying, he spends most of a little fall of rain loitering next to Marius and not really knowing what to do and my heart just BROKE.

·       He and Grantaire had a cute bromance going – after Drink With Me, when Grantaire nonverbally tells Enjolras to go fuck off and goes off to the side of the stage, Gavroche just goes over to him and starts hugging his back, and then they have a cuddle on the side of the stage together for Marius’ solo.

·       Because no turntable – Gav didn’t die alone on the other side of the barricade, he makes it just back to the top, gets shot with the bright white light (which they kept) and then just falls over into Enjolras’ arms, who then carries him down the barricade and puts him in Grantaire’s arms who just stands there, centre-stage, cradling a dead Gavroche for a few minutes before lying him down at the front of the stage.

·       At the end, Gavroche gets dumped unceremoniously into the cart with dead Enjolras and idk, it’s just a moment.

Enjolras

·       Right – instant disclaimer that I am incredibly biased and Hyoie O’Grady is and will forever be my Enjolras and I measure everyone against his performance.

·       This guy, Ashley Gilmour, – mostly had the look and the hair and general icy beauty. I was initially disappointed with his voice, but he did grow on me – he just really didn’t have the presence I associate with a great Enjolras. This was especially evident in the speech bits like in Red and Black?. Like, you know they’re not right for the role when you don’t particularly have much to write home about. Maybe I’m being unfair – other people who’ve seen him – what do you think?

·       The one bit of changed staging I didn’t like was Do You Hear the People Sing. I think Enjolras being towed around on the cart (which did come back during the beginning of the barricade) gives the song the momentum it needs & deserves? Whereas they were just marching round a staircase they’d shoved in the middle of the stage which Feuilly got up on for his verse, so…

·       Aside from a few handclasps, there was basically no E/R. Not even a hug during Drink With Me. It wasn’t even like “no homo” bullshit whatever, it just…didn’t happen. Actors didn’t have chemistry, and it’s a fair reading – this Enjolras read ace/too busy for romance quite strongly, I guess, and also very young, but yeah. After the joy that was Sam Edwards, even a bit more chemistry with Hyoie O’Grady (even though he said he didn’t really like that reading (I think??) which totally fair), and some actors I believe ACTUALLY KISSING OMG in other productions (one Enjolras also wore a Pride sash instead of a revolutionary one in Brazil, I think???) it really wasn’t anything. I would love a cast with an outwardly gay & together E/R, but I think the West End has a while to go before that becomes reality.

·       Enjolras’ death: obviously no turntable, end of that iconic spin to reveal him draped across the front of the barricade with his flag. In this version, he basically yeets himself off the front of the barricade very dramatically (there is no other word for it, I promise I’m not using “yeet” gratuitously) and then when Javert comes back after the fall of the barricade, there’s a soldier with the cart from the building of the barricade with a very dead Enjolras on his flag, arms akimbo out the end. Which worked. It was more quiet and understated, but it worked. No complaints from me.

·       At the curtain call he gave us a little hand heart, Taylor-Swift-circa-2010 style. It was cute and I should probably stop being a cow.

Les Amis

·       They’ll never cast them as diverse as they are in my head (I can only hope one day, perhaps, PLEASE!) but they were a good bunch. Their Feuilly looked more like a Jehan to me, but eh. Again, just no real…buzz. Not in the way I’ve seen them performed before? And I think Les Amis depends on a good Enjolras and a good Grantaire, because as the two main Amis in the musical, they set the tone?

·       When the soldiers’ final announcements were happening during the Dawn of Anguish, one of the boys (idk which, they were basically all blonde) was having a very obvious panic attack on the floor by the tables, and one of the others was comforting him and it was like that horrible powerful scene in the 2012 movie and I didn’t like it because it was heartbreaking but it was very effective.

·       They all seemed a bit less tolerant of Grantaire, who wasn’t even that disruptive by other actors standards, which I didn’t like?

·       Grantaire was, again, eh? Funny, fine, but didn’t have interesting things going for him (like Adam Filipe’s pacifism, for example, or any kind of chemistry with Enjolras) in the way others have done, but it was a solid performance.

The Thenardiers

·       Yes, they were great! Master of the House built to Thenardier being given the birthday bumps, which was funny.

·       Madame Thenardier’s solo in Master of the House was delivered in the kitchen all by herself as a bitter monologue, rather than the drunken rowdiness you used to get in the old show.

·       They were a pretty typical funny Thenardier couple, and I’m getting tired, I might remember some more about them tomorrow.

 So yeah. Those are my thoughts. Would love to hear what other people think, and I definitely want to go back and see it again, perhaps with a different cast (a different Enjolras, argh). I’m off to bed, I have class in ten hours. Oops.

[danetobelieve]

Toss A Coin To Your Friendapist || Nell and Winston

Winston and Nell had more than enough time hanging out to fill a life time of memories. Yet despite that, when they got to spend quality time together it was a true blessing. Apparently this was something that magicians could do, Morgan’s PDFs had explained a technique of literally throwing energy to one another and as they stood in the backyard of Nell’s apartment, Winston pulled back and threw a glowing sphere of energy spiralling through the air and watched it drop towards their friend. “I can’t believe that we’re here and that we are doing this and that I am actually casting magic with you and you’re here doing it right back to me and it is all really amazing and wow.” 

Truly, Nell had been reveling in the fact that not only one, but both of her best friends had been showing magical abilities in the past month. She loved that she could share this literal magical bond with Winston nowadays, that she didn’t have to hide it from them anymore. And this game reminded her of something she and her sisters had played when they were younger, and learning to harness their powers. Mindlessly, she caught the ball in hand, letting it’s momentum carry it around her back before shooting it back towards Winston. “You’re making killer progress like- soon you’re gonna be busting down doors and creating little hurricanes or like- whatever the hell you magically want to do!”

Winston concentrated hard for a moment, watching the path of the ball of energy as it arched across the back garden and through the air towards them. Focusing on it’s momentum, they reshaped it’s path and managed to mimic the trick that Nell had just demonstrated. Surprised at their initial success however they dropped the ball and had to quickly whip it up before it singed the grass too much. “It’s going okay I guess,” Winston found the theory and lore surrounding the magic was much easier to get to grips with then the actual practical applications of it. That was where they had experienced the majority of their problems. “I’m not sure how good my progress actually is, it is difficult to know what to gauge it against.”

Nell watched the ball carefully as it traveled, knowing that Winston had certainly come a long way, but also knowing that magic could be...fickle. The last thing they needed was to start a little grass fire. Or even worse…a Winston fire. Nevertheless, a wide grin spilt her lips as she saw Winston get the trick fairly easily. The fumble afterwards was easily forgiven as Winston quickly recovered. “Well a month ago you couldn’t even do magically willfully so- it’s a big step.” But just as the ball was tossed her way once more, a flash caught the corner of her eye in a separate part of the yard, somewhere behind Winston.The game was forgotten, and the ball quickly catapulted into the ground, leaving a scorched trail behind it. “Shit,” Nell cursed before blipping the magic ball out of existence, leaving her and Winston in the darkness of the recently set sun. “Sorry I- thought I saw something.”

“I know, I know, everyone tells me that I should be happy with my progress but the truth is that I’m not.” Honestly, they hadn’t really been expecting any of this to be anything but a fun game and sometimes things went wrong. Winston looked around them and was not surprised to find that they were in the same place, with the same things going on. Maybe Nell was just having a tough day. “Something?” They had began to learn to question everything, after all if there was something that could potentially go wrong then in White Crest it really would go wrong. “Do you have something a bit clearer and much … much less vague then something?” Winston didn’t want to risk … something. 

Nell nodded, knowing her friend well enough to not be surprised by their frustration. Winston had always been like that. But sometimes it was difficult to relate to it. After all, she’d been raised in magic. The fundamentals that Winston was learning now were ones she barely remembered learning at all. Her and her sisters had been so young when they started, it was just as much a part of them as her arm or her leg might be. “You’ll get there. I know you will.” The promise of ‘something’ had her distracted, though, no longer able to focus on what they’d been talking about. “Yeah….something…” Just then- another something cracked in the night behind Winston, startling Nell in a way that had her lashing out blindly with magic in their direction, though it skimmed around them and went for whatever might be lurking behind them, summoning it out of the darkness towards them.

One moment Nell was encouraging them that they would be able to do this, it would just take time. A moment later and Winston was seeing a flash of what was definitely offensive magic. They trusted Nell implicitly. It didn’t occur to them that this was perhaps a mistake, so they decided that maybe this was time to practice. One of the texts that they had located had a few techniques about redirecting and repurposing offensive magic and so as the flash of energy lanced through the air towards them, Winston focussed. “Woah,” they muttered to themselves as they did their best to center themselves, they did their best to locate their serenity and similarly to how Nell had with the ball, they focussed on wrapping the energy around them and sending it spiralling back towards Nell before adding a little something of their own to it. 

For a moment, Nell didn’t entirely register Winston’s magic coming towards her, and her reaction took a moment longer than it usually would as she stepped out of the way of the magic. After all, she’d been too busy staring at the spot behind Winston. “What?!” she exclaimed in surprise after her dodge. “No! I wasn’t going for you! I thought it was the...thing! Behind you!” As if her words had summoned it, the ghost of Evan stepped from the edge of the forest, and Nell’s face went white as a sheet. At least by now, she knew Winston wouldn’t be able to see them. No one had been able to see him so far. Not even Blanche, strangely enough. “I- nevermind. I was wrong. Nothing’s there,” she said quickly with a tinge of nerves.

Frowning gently, Winston looked left and right at the scene in front of them. They were honestly confused. What was Nell talking about and why were they so taken aback by everything that was happening. “Oh, shit, sorry…” they fell silent and frowned gently, “I didn’t mean to hurt you or anything are you … are you sure that you’re okay?” they didn’t just mean because they had cast an offensive magical spell at their friend. There was clearly something going on with Penelope and as Winston felt their body grow tired from the magic use they stepped forward. “Nell, what’s going on?” 

Nell was never a person to really show nerves or fear, and the fact that she seemed even relatively shaken at the moment was drastically out of the norm. “It’s fine. It wasn’t clear.” Gone was the lighter Nell that generally inhabited her body, leaving a focused and somewhat shaken self in its wake. “And yeah- I’m good,” she said forcefully, as if trying to convince herself of it as well. She’d chosen to keep Evan’s ghost around by not getting rid of her coin, she had to deal with this. “It’s- nothing. I’m just….always ready to launch magic into dark forest, is all.“ She knew she wouldn’t be able to tell Winston about Evan’s ghost, not when she was the reason he was a ghost in the first place, and Winston had judged her so harshly for talking about murder before. Trying to get back to the sense of regularity, she offered, “Did you wanna keep playing catch?”

Winston and Nell had been best friends since before Winston could remember. They were roughly the same age and they’d been at school together. They were close and Winston knew when she was lying. There was something going on and she was not being honest. “Nell, it’s me,” Winston replied with a shake of their head, “I know that you’re not fine or good or however you want to put it. Just tell me the truth. Please.” They bit their lip, hoping that Nell would be honest with them. “Not till you tell me what’s going on…”

Nell couldn’t hide the little flash of guilt that crossed over her features as she looked at Winston, not wanting to lie to them. She’d spent so many years not telling them the truth about the supernatural and magic, and starting up the cycle anew wasn’t something she was interested in. But wasn’t this different? She shifted uncertainty on her feet for a few moments, gaze flicking towards Evan where he stood on the edge of the forest before simply saying, “It’s just a ghost. It doesn’t matter. I thought it was something else.” She didn’t have to tell the whole truth, right?

Raising an eyebrow immediately, Winston didn’t have to be Nell’s best friend to know that some shit was going on. She was still, well maybe not lying but not telling them the whole truth. “You’re seeing ghosts?” they asked with a frown wondering what the hell was actually going on because Nell was a spellcaster and not a medium, so unless she knew something that they didn’t there was something most definitely not right about this. “You shouldn’t be able to see ghosts unless your name is Blanche Harlow or some other medium or exorcist that I didn’t know that you were, what’s going on?”

“Not ghosts plural,” Nell mumbled, still reluctant to be having this conversation. “Just the one.” A wan smile came with her words, as if having less ghosts somehow made it better. “It’s the coin,” she sighed. The coin she was meant to be rid of by flinging it in the ocean along with everyone else. But instead, she’d hung onto her’s. “So that’s what’s going on- that’s all.” She knew it was pretty much futile to pray that Winston might stop asking questions, as curiosity tended to be just as big a part of their nature as it was her’s, but she could hope, right?

“Just the one?” Winston replied with a frown, “okay well that doesn’t sound like something Blanche related.” Winston frowned as she showed them the coin. “Did Blanche forget to tell you how to get rid of yours too?” Winston really hoped that they weren’t about to find out that Nell had kept this deliberately. She always had these noble ideas of self sacrifice but this seemed dumb even for her. “Who’s the ghost of?” Winston asked curiously, worried about their friend. “Is it someone I knew?”

“It’s not Blanche related. She knows about the ghost because I asked her about it when he first showed up, and I didn’t know it was because of the coin. But- I don’t know- she probably thinks I got rid of him already.” Then Nell was shaking her head, still wishing this conversation hadn’t been sparked in the first place as a rock seemed to begin forming in the pit of her stomach. “No, she told me! Did she- forget to tell you?” Nell asked, a little frown on her lips. “It’s- does it matter?” Dread began to join the lump in her throat, an almost choking feeling beginning to manifest as she looked nervously at Evan’s ghost, as if to reassure herself that Winston couldn’t see him. “No, you don’t know him. I met him when I was...travelling.” With a flicker of surprise, she remembered she still hadn’t told Winston exactly what she’d actually been doing while travelling. 

“Cool, I’ll keep it on the downlow until told otherwise,” Winston replied with a shrug and laughed, “Only for like a few days and she apologised and Ricky had been locking me in my room at that point anyway because I was ending up in some really compromising positions and it was starting to become a safety risk. But I threw it in the ocean already, so the sleep walking has stopped.” They paused and looked at her, she seemed like she was in a lot of pain about this and Winston shook their head in response before dropping their hands. “No, it doesn’t matter, but you know, you’re my bud and I have your back, so whatever you need, we can talk or we can not talk about it, but, I don’t know, you seem like you’re holding a lot of emotion related to this.” 

Nell didn’t want to confirm nor deny Winston’s offer of hiding the ghost, not wanting to keep things from Blanche either, but the less questions she had about the thing, the better. Let Winston decide what they did or didn’t wish to do when it came to telling. “Well- that’s better than nothing, I guess. I’m glad you got rid of your’s, though. Especially with Miriam around.” Her shoulders relaxed a bit as Winston spoke, unsure how to handle the situation at hand, but appreciating their offer of emotional support. “I just- I don’t know how you’d react or- how it might change your view of me. And- well- things have been changing so much recently with us- with all the magic and stuff-” What if they didn’t like the parts of her she'd been hiding?

Winston wasn’t going to lie to any of their friends unless it concerned their safety, they’d made that mistake already and they didn’t want to make it again. But Nell was entitled to some degree of privacy with her personal life, irrespective of Winston’s opinion on the matter. Winston swallowed at the thought of the vampire that hunted spellcasters. “Yeah, plus waking up in strange places was really not great.” They hadn’t loved some of the places they’d found themselves in. “I obviously -” Winston bit their tongue, “I’m new to this …” they paused trying to think of the best words for this particular situation, “I want to learn more and I’m starting to realise that my world view doesn’t work anymore … not in this world. The more I consider Miriam, the more I struggle. Despite the fact that she’s a ruthless murderer apparently, she is also charming and generous. We have no way of putting her through any form of a justice system effectively, she’d just kill everyone and disappear. But killing her seems wrong.” Winston frowned, realising their tangent. “My point is, I’ve got so much to learn and I’m not going to judge you for choices you’ve made in this batshit crazy world, whatever you did or whatever you think is so bad, I’m still just me. You’re still just you.” 

“The supernatural it...adds some complications.” It was hard for her to speak to when it had always been a part of her existence, but she did her best to understand Winston’s point of view. Nell waited patiently as they spoke, trying her best to ignore the form of Evan as they did. She wanted to focus only on the person in front of her, the one that was tangible, the one that had been a staple in her life since before she could remember. Winston was as much a pillar of Nell’s life as Bea and Luce might be, having been there since the beginning. And she’d been excited to share this supernatural world with Winston, so that they might both co-exist in it together, no more magical secrets between them. But perhaps what she hadn’t realized was that you couldn’t select what secrets came through or not, you couldn’t pick and choose. If she truly wanted to welcome Winston into the world, she had to give all of it to them. “Don’t tell anyone...if I tell you. Please. I don’t- I don’t like thinking about it in general and- I don’t want people asking about it.” And she didn’t want people to think she was some sort of monster because of it. “It was a few years ago. His name is Evan. The one that I’m seeing. I’m- well I’m the one that-” she choked over the words for the moment, her fear of abandonment trying to drag her back down and hide the truth. “I killed him.”

Honestly, of all of the things that Winston had been expecting to hear from Nell, this was not the worst thing that it could’ve been. Still not great, but after everything that had happened with the vampire Winston wasn’t about to judge someone else for any life taking mistakes that they may have made. “Nell, you know that I wouldn’t ever tell people something that you told me, I’ve never told anyone about the time that you accidentally broke that vase and we blamed it on the pets,” Winston replied with a sigh, “this is obviously worse then that but you know that it is the same principle. This lip is zipped.” Winston mimed the movement of turning a key at the corner of their lip and throwing it away before swallowing and nodding. “Okay, that, won’t lie is not the great start that we would’ve liked, why did you … you know….”

The smallest hint of a smile quirked the edge of Nell’s lips, glad that Winston seemed to at least be trying to lighten the mood. “Well...it was the pets. We were perfectly innocent.” They’d neve been innocent a day in their life. At least- not if it was something Nell had pulled Winston into. “But thanks, Winston.” She knew asking them to keep this a secret could potentially be...a lot, though. Especially considering his work with the WCPD. The small grin he’d managed to tug from her was quickly gone as she once again became immersed in the feelings that came with thinking of the past. Winston couldn’t even say the words killed when it came to her. Nell’s mind went a little haywire as she tried to keep it from spiraling, worrying if he was already beginning to hate her. “So- you know when I was travelling? Part of what I was doing was going around helping people deal with supernatural stuff. And- well- I came to this town, and someone was using him as a cover. Blaming him for all the shitty stuff they were doing. It was some Hunter that had gotten bored and decided to just- start shit. Like- murdery shit.” Her hands fiddled with one another, nerves at the forefront of her demeanor as she explained. “The guy I’m seeing as a ghost- Evan- he’s the one they were blaming, and a new vampire. He didn’t- he didn’t really know what he was yet, though. So I told him. He didn’t like it. Didn’t want to be it.” This was where it became harder for Nell to tell the story, her words halting more often. “I told him about how he needed to feed to keep himself safe, so he wouldn't jump anyone that so much as bled. But he- he decided- if he was going to be this thing that stole blood from people- that could kill- he didn’t- that wasn’t something he wanted to be. So he starved himself. Purposefully. Made sure I was there when he snapped- when he was about to attack an innocent because of how hungry he was. I had to help them! And in the process…” Her hands spread wide, bottom lip jutting out as she was unwilling to say the words aloud. “He was my friend.” 

Winston knew better then to believe Nell’s proclaimed innocence. “You know that i’ll always be here for you no matter what....” It was true. Nell could’ve killed someone and Winston would be by her side. Listening carefully to her explanation, Winston bobbed their head in agreement. “That sounds gross,” Winston replied truthfully, though a good part of them wasn’t even remotely shocked by it. They didn’t speak again. The tear balancing in her eyes. The bottom lip. It was all tell tale. Winston didn’t need to say anything, they simply stepped forward for the embrace. Just in the same way that they had done a thousand times before and would do a thousand times again. Just in the same way that Nell had done for them anytime they had scraped a knee, anytime anyone had fucked with them in high school. They would hug it out and things would be okay. Taking a step back, they tucked her hair behind her ear and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I’m so sorry Nell,” Winston looked at her and knew that they would never be able understand her pain, “I can’t imagine the pain and sacrifice that must have taken.” It was cruel of Evan to do that. Very cruel. 

In a life that had been perhaps too full of friends coming and going, Winston was one of the few constants. It was the reason she’d do quite literally anything for them, why they had such a strong hold on her. “Thanks…” was all Nell could begin to say, never knowing just how she could tell Winston that they were one of the most important people in her life in a way that would actually convey the depth of just how strongly she felt bonded to them. “You know you’ve got me, too.” For a long moment, she simply relaxed into their hug, letting the world go quiet as she felt safe in their arms, and then as they pressed the kiss to her head. But the feeling of serenity couldn’t last, not when she could still see Evan lurking over Winston’s shoulder. “It was shitty,” she managed to get out, voice strained with the effort of trying to keep it together. “But- I should have found another way. Or stopped it. Or seen it coming. Either way-” It was why she had kept the ghost around. To remind herself to do better for her friends, the ones she loved. 

Quietly, Winston squeezed her shoulder affectionately and nodded as best they could in the midst of an embrace. “Anytime, always here for you.” They didn’t have to say that. They knew that Nell knew it. But this was still … important to them. It was important that Nell understood just how much she meant to Winston. She was their oldest friend after all. “I mean, that’s one of the reasons I say anytime, because I have never fucked up and so when I eventually do it it is going to have to be way more spectacular then your fuck ups, and you’ll have no choice because you owe me.” They winked and gave her a bright smile. Winston looked down at her and tried to consider the impossible situation that she had found herself in. “You were put into a situation that I cannot even begin to understand and yet your reaction was to try and help in whatever way you could, I know that what you did doesn’t feel right and I could never imagine whether or not you feel a specific way, but you have to forgive yourself eventually. Maybe part of that is letting the coin go.”

Nell was beginning to return to her usual state, trying to brush away the unwelcome memories and thoughts as Winston joked and smiled. She didn’t want to dwell on this, didn’t like the way it felt when she did. “Yeah, you’d never done anything wrong it your entire life. Such a perfect little person,” she teased, reaching out to pinch his cheek between her fingers. The smile fell as the got back to the more morose subject of Evan, and Nell simply shook her head, not ready to agree with him on that front at the moment, but tired of baring her emotions when they’d come here to play something fun. “Maybe,” was all she offered, knowing full well that she had currently had no plans to throw the coin back to the ocean. “Let’s see how long you can actually keep our little orb going though.” And with that, she’d brought the magic ball back to life from her fingertips, ready to carry on.

[spacegaywritings]

Warming Paws and melting Walls (4/8) “Little Talks”

General

Summary: Lunch break rolls around. Remy and Emile make a deal.

Tags: food, eating, employer/employee, pining, remy, emile, kitty Virgil, quick mention of bereavement, sick days, systematic issues, ew world, fish, feeding the beast, mutual crushes, genderqueer characters, migraines, headaches, pain mention, exhaustion.

My KoFi  - Support me ♥ or Commission me

ao3: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 // all.

tumblr:  1 / 2 / 3 / 4 (you are here!) / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8.

 Story under the cut - Word count: almost 3k

Remy sighed and pushed his keyboard away, effectively managing to continue to press until the keyboard was unable to go any further since it hit the screen’s humble frame. Eventually, he just worked to drive himself away from the big desk he was working at. The swivel chair let him roll all over the floor, the tiled ground smooth and willing to let him pass without obstacle. Virgil commented his shenanigans with a little movement of their ear. It was just a quick flinch. Remy was not sure but he suspected it meant he was listening or registering noise at least.

 It was cute.

But.

This bastard cat was sleeping.

 The man sighed again.

 “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, Queen, I swear-”

 Well, no matter how threatening the fancy man tried to be, it did not reach the napping cat. The little void was all comfortable in his lap. There was not a single motion at his dramatic actions, not even a simple reaction. There was nothing but a bundle of black, so black that they camouflaged themself into the blackness of Remy’s pants. All that distinguished one from another was the slow movement of rising and falling.

 Virgil was breathing alright. That was good.

Could cats have breathing problems? The vet said the cat was okay. Still, he made a mental note to look out for any signs.  

Knowing they were okay for now - with a pass by the vet - Remy felt like he could breathe much better himself. He had not noticed it but he released a soft sigh of relief. His eyes lowered to just watch the little blob of colourless something rest on his thighs.

 “I have lunch time, V, would you kindly get up and be awake and do cat things? You were awake all morning with me!”

 Despite his complaints, Remy’s words were barely audible. The receptionist was more or less hissing to himself and it sounded like a small snake cursing the world somewhere from the little hidden corner on the other side of the room.

Far, far away.

His threats were as empty as his condescension. Nothing but attitude.

 The kitten remained still and as much dopamine as there was being released within Remy, he could not help but wish to move...then again, the kitty cat was absolutely warm and the little weight on him was somewhat comforting in a refreshing manner.

 He had already finished most of his work despite having been late this morning and even needing to deal with a certain storm of emails and phone calls. Not to forget the actual real life human people that encountered him face to face.

Ugh - the worst kind of people.

 Oh fuck, he wanted more coffee. He wanted all the coffee he could ask for and then just nap for a few minutes and then get work done and go home and read some dumb romance novel.

Don’t judge.

He needed to get his prince charming from somewhere. It was not like Remy was dating anyone particularly... existing in the first place. And he just really craved some fucking love shit every now and then. You know, the soft trash with people holding hands and giving each other pet names and one bringing flowers for the others and that one thinking of a certain habit the one has so they are considering it in their regular activities.

 Remy’s facial expression faded from soft into something akin to receiving news of a bad weather day when you planned on doing any outdoor-activities with friends.

 It just ... it was missing.

 “Ah! You are done?”

 Remy flinched, his little dream world immediately breaking down as the voice cut through the silence of his new office. His fantasy bubble blobbed violently on impact of Emile’s intrusive words hitting him. He looked up. A person was standing there, apologising and knocking. Knocking after already standing in the doorway and having addressed him.

 It was not a knight in shining armour to save a bored damsel in distress nor was it prince charming, ready to sweep the sleepy man off his feet. 

It was just his boss, Emile.

 ...But it was his boss, Emile.

 Remy smiled and let himself fall back into his chair. He had not noticed how he had sat up with the sudden noise interrupting his thoughts. And his arms were slung around a sleepy yet awake little Virgil. As always, his grip was rather loose around the kitten. In a case of need, he would be tehre to hold and hug them, though.

 “Aw, I am sorry. I should have knocked before. Did I wake them up?”

 Remy blinked and nodded. Virgil was not awake but he nodded anyway, just doing it for literally no reason. Emile saw the sleeping kitten but did not comment.They squinted for a moment, worry shading their features.

 Was that just him or did it smell of food already?

Oh fuck, he had forgotten about the food. Bitch, this cat would literally make him forget and miss about everything and all. First his post-work nap, then his rave, his whole weekend, now his work and lunch break were affected, too.

 “You got food? Come in, come in.”

 This little void was easily eating away his whole life without any hesitation. He readily let him.. In his defence, they looked so cute when yawning. The charcoal demon was stretched out on Remy’s lap and pushed their tail against his chest, turning to Emile and meowing at the boss.

 Did they seriously greet them? Literally, Remy could not- this cat!

 Or maybe they meowed at the smell, it did kind of smell nice after all and the kitten had slept through his entire time here after he had gotten to work. Not even Virgil liked mornings or staying up. At least they could get back to napping, Remy jealously noticed.

 “Virgil just woke up, what a coincidence”, Remy spoke, words jokingly snippy as he carefully picked up the kitten and stroked through their fur.

“Good morning little sleepy head.”

 The kitten replied with a big orchestra of purrs and an eager bonk as they crashed their head against Remy’s. Little ferocious kitten attacking him.

 “Emile, I promise they want to kill me!”

 They laughed and held up a bag of food, slowly swinging it from one side to another.

 “Maybe we can bribe them with some lunch? It’s on me, meet you in the lunch room.”

 Remy carefully squeezed the kitten as his higher-up turned around to show their graceful behind, clothed in layers of pastels and beige. They looked the softest in the most boring yet also least boring way. It was weirdly hot, in a kinda cute and endearing way. Also, pastel colours just looked soft and somehow, they made it look professional but in a trustworthy and warm kind of way.

 It made Remy feel fuzzy and he hated loving it so much. Damn them for being so wickedly attractive.

 He swallowed his secret pining away and decided to get his kitten ready to follow Emile and get some food. Once he had his phone pocketed and his grip on Virgil secured, he was ready to walk after them. When they were close enough, he snuck over to the other side to handle whatever the heck Em wanted to talk about.

 Knowing them, it was probably something nice and soft or extra work that would get paid for super well because Emile was about the most considerate employer he had ever met. Also, because Remy was working as an untrained accountant while receiving full pay for handling literally all this business. Emile only made the official calls. Remy did not mind it because he knew, they somewhat advocated for this stance that employees were actual human beings. This meant they had needs and therefore were to be valued and appreciated and given space and freedom, so they could be creative and work effectively with as little restrictions as possible.

 Hence, Remy was allowed to hang up whatever kind of pictures and decorate his office in any kind of way. Well, nudity and such was not allowed, considering sometimes minors would enter the clinic as well, but other than that, Remy had challenged the therapist a lot.

They never let him down.

 Also, they handled his amount of sick days without issues and allowed him to hand in more sick days than he legally had to accept. They easily brushed it off as half-work day or employer-covered vacation. You know, like the stuff you got when sick days counted but in that case, you did not have any and still got pay and zero threats. Or like, bereavement leave and all.

 Emile and Remy got together and the former put out the meals and slid them into their respective places as Remy got some plates and cutlery. The lunch room was a small kitchen. It had the most essential things. Virgil was standing on Remy’s seat and lurked around. Their tail was showing despite the table stealing the view on them. Emile could see them and they saw the tail slowly swishing from one side to the other.

 Hovering, waiting. Patiently. Like a predator.

 Remy returned and put the plates down.

 “Kitty, what the fuck are you doing”

 Virgil meowed, eyes wide. Their tail stood upright with a little curl forming itself into its tip. This little void was living the life of luxury and decadence to just eat and be carried, then sleep and get woken up only to get some more food.

Remy was thriving on this attitude. What a luxury hoe. Such a Queen.

 “Remy, I think your cat will eat with us”

 His boss chuckled quietly and seated themself while Remy just sighed, rolling his eyes. By now, his head was hurting already. Not much but it was starting to hurt - moving hurt. It felt heavy and made him sleepy and exhausted.

Concentration was.. slightly off. Especially his sustained attention.

 He carefully picked up his void and put them into his lap.

 “Meow!”

 “Yes, Virgil, yes. You will eat with us, just calm down.”

 The kitten wiggled in his lap and put their paws on the edge of the table, looking at the hot sweating food containers.

 “Virgil, behave. Come on, honey”, Remy warned.

 Even his voice seemed heavy and tired. He missed his nap. In spite of this, he was being an attentive “temporary pet-keeper”. His hand moved to gently nudge the paws away from the table. Then, he picked them up to let the kitten dance dance dance a bit.

 “I am a good kitty and I will wait”, Remy mimicked softly and moved the paws from one side to the other as Virgil patiently stood on their hind paws and stared at the world in confusion.

 Emile giggled at the display while Virgil did not know what the heck was going on. Did their temporary owner go insane? They pulled out another chair on which they prepared a smaller bowl with a bit of fish in it. No seasoning or spice or anything. They had gotten it from a nearby store they had visited on the way to pick up the food order. After all, they had not been sure about whether or not Remy actually had brought some food for the kitten but apparently, this arrangement worked and Virgil’s interest was sparked.

 They watched the bowl move from Emile’s hands over to the seat and once the bowl was settled, the kitten launched themself over to the chair and ducked their tiny raven head into the big bowl. Their whole head disappeared in it and only these dark ears peeked out from within.

Silent chewing noise could be heard.

 “Remy! Remy! They eat the food I brought! Look at this kitten!”

 The receptionist couldn’t deny himself the joy of a small smile as he looked over at the small bundle of darkness hunched over the food bowl and purring in delight. In addition to this, Emile was giggling, beaming in delight and genuinely touched.

Remy looked up at them. For a moment, their eyes locked but they both looked away, averting their gazes to look at Virgil instead.

 It was rather silent for a moment, safe for the rhythmic vibrations coming from Virgil. Apparently they enjoyed their food.

 “Hey, hey - careful now!”, he warned with a grin on his face.

 He nudged his sunglasses off his head and let them slip down and onto his nose to cover his half-lidded eyes. They gleamed at Emile for a moment.

 “If you keep that up, maybe you will be their new favourite human.”

 Emile held their chest for a moment and settled opposite of Remy. Their cheeks seemed slightly reddened but they concealed it by tending to the food. They put some of the steamed vegetables onto their plate and added some fried rice. To top it all of, he had a bit of natural yoghurt from the fridge.

 They returned the playful shine in Remy’s eyes by smirking at him.

 “You say that as if this was a bad thing, Remy “

 Remy snorted.

 “You say this as if you were planning to take this poor little cat away from my horrid claws, Emile.”

 Remy had finally arranged his food on his plate, steam curling upwards from his curry and rice. Even the food containers were still sweating and smoking in heat. They looked as if these containers acted like some sort of sauna. He fed himself a first spoonful of fried rice - the tiny brown one that looked like some holy glazed rice and so small it barely qualified as anything at all - and leaned into his seat.

 Oh, this was just delightful.

Savoury flavour bloomed in his mouth, exploding in contrasts to the soft and squishy rice with the slightly harder vegetables. The different tastes stimulated his tongue just right.

If someone said foodgasms were a lie, they were missing out on this delight. It was the most subjective of all paradises.

  “The thing I wanted to talk to you about-”, Emile started, taking a bit of time to drink something in between.

 Talking all day made their throat as dry as a sand dessert.

 “You can keep my office and let your cat come to work with you but I need to ask a little favour of you. I am sure you will want to agree! “

 Remy shifted in his seat. He blinked for a moment but gave a small nod to indicate he was not just listening to probably on board for whatever Emile was planning to have him do. The therapist let their lips curl into a genuine smile.

 “We need to give our new offices a makeover! I bet you would feel more comfortable in a novel set of four walls, huh?”

 The receptionist’s cheeks darkened by a whole shade and his chest jumped for a minuscule moment. Just a little harder. He was sure it was visible and even the kitten raised their head to look at the two, staring into Emile before letting their gaze rest on their temporary owner.

However, they quickly lost interest and returned to chewing on their food.

 “Well, that sounds amazing but I.. Virgil isn’t mine.”

 Emile blinked and the kitten meowed, nudging back the bowl and retreating to Remy’s lap. He willingly picked up the void and brushed through their fur as always. The bowl was licked clean and absolutely blank. Apparently, the cat was more than just a bit into it.

 It was silent once more. Even the cat did not purr despite the soft head scritches they got. Remy pursed their lips, a shadow hitting their face.

Their whole beauty was obstructed.

 “See, their owners still might answer. I put up some signs and made a few posts on forums about missing pets. When I went to nearby shelters and called vets, I gave them a picture of Virgil and left my contact details around. They are not tattooed but they are too tame to be a wild cat.”

 Remy shrugged, voice deflated as he continued. The narrowed their eyes at him. The idea of an unaffected Remy seemed unrealistic. The man was cuddling the cat and wanted to call in sick - while knowing about how scarce his sick days were.

 “What if someone moved and accidentally left Virgil abandoned? Or they ran away during the chaos of moving?”

He sighed.

“You know, if nobody responds within a week, I think I will take you up on it. Until then I will just steal your office, honey.”

 His low voice swung up at the end of his sentence and he even let a small smile grow on his lips. Anyway, it was time to pay attention to his food. It was so much better than to look at Emile’s doubtful face.

 “You know what”, Emile countered, “I have the feeling Virgil will stay with you. Nobody responded in days and they are attached to you. It would be cruel to separate you know.”

 They helped themself to a bit more vegetables.

 “Just you wait, Remy.”

 The receptionist smirked back at them.

 “Whatever, honey~”

[fae-fucker]

Zenith: Chapter 49-51

Chapter 49

So the queen of Adhira, Lira’s aunt, is, like, super disappointed with Lira and her shenanigans. Lira finally explains that while she loves her aunt, she doesn’t want to be her, aka refuses the role of planetary queen once more. I honestly have no idea what reasons Alara has for making Lira her heir, because Lira has evidently never shown any interest in politics. Why she won’t just make Lon her heir? He seems loyal and eager. Idk I guess feminism or something. Oh and we need a character conflict for Lira. Doy.

Anyhoo, Alara says that she’s been in contact with General Cortas and knows about his deal with the crew. She says she can instead offer Lira a position as a pilot for Adhira’s new starfleet. Which they apparently didn’t have before? She says they need a stronger presence “in the sky” if there’s another war, and like 1) that’s not the sky and 2) you mean to tell me that this entire planet of randos that do in fact train pilots judging by Lira’s existence ... doesn’t have a starfleet already?

Oh, but the ship Alara offers Lira is “the fastest model in the Mirabel galaxy”. The fastest model of ... what? Is it a frigate? A cruiser? A fighter? We don’t even get any made-up specs or even a general specialization, all we get is that it’s the fastest and coolest ship ever that everybody wants right now but it’s not even out on the market yet! Because that makes sense for the government that just admitted they had a minuscule starfleet to have. I would’ve accepted it if Alara tied the existence and offer of the ship back to her correspondence with General Cortas and the ship was a diplomatic gift from Arcardius, but it’s specifically mentioned to be Adhiran.

So ... these guys don’t have a meaningful “presence in the sky”, but they DO have the tech, the budget, and the marketing strategy to make the most wanted and advanced starship in the galaxy?

Oh, and this starship? Lira would pilot it as a commercial ship. So the queen wants to invest in a bigger starfleet ... except this one extra fancy ship she’s willing to throw away for regular trade? I mean I guess it makes sense if she doesn’t want to put Lira in danger but does want to sweeten the deal with a sick starship, but then I have to wonder why the previous info about the general and the lacking starfleet is even in here at all?

This whole situation is just doubt dot jpeg.

We find out that the offer only stands this once, and only if Lira immediately removes herself from her current mission and also leaves her crew to stay on Adhira. Apparently the super sexy cool new ship hasn’t even been built yet, it’s literally just a sketch, but Alara has set aside funds to start construction. But it’s also famous enough of a ship already that everyone wants it?

I’m no politician but the logistics of it all make my brain hurt. It’s just really ass-backwards, is what I’m saying. It really feels like Shinsay just wrote one word in front of the other without any consideration of the words that came before.

Oh and Lon is here also. I’m only saying this because he bites his lip and his blood is blue and I need you to remember this for future reference.

Lon and Alara tell Lira to pick them and ditch her friends because her friends are bad for her and tbh are they wrong? Are they though? Lira leaves to go mope about how uninteresting her character conflict is and finds Alfie and Dex.

Alfie sat beside him on the couch. The AI was oiling his gears while Dex oiled his insides with a bottle of Griss.

I had to read about Dex oiling his insides and now so do you.

Wait ... is Dex butt-chugging this Griss? Dex, you know that’s bad for you, bud?

Lira asks Dex if there was truly no way to save both Andi and his dad, to which Dex replies something appropriately dramatic that nobody would actually say out loud (something something tearing galaxies something), and Lira mopes out of that room as well in grim understanding of their symbolically similar situations before the chapter ends.

Chapter 50

We’re back with Andi. The girls are all “training” aka playfighting out in the open and inconveniencing the people around them while Andi angsts about how broken and sad and black her soul is and how everything is her fault including Valen’s and Lira’s pain and how much she just LOVES these WONDERFUL WOMEN she calls her crew and how HARD it was to open up to them after Kalee and Dex but now that she has she would never give them up for ANYTHING.

It goes on for literally pages and I’m not going to include it because 1) it’s pretty much a rehash of shit we already know and have seen her angst about and 2) the fact that Andi’s thoughts and character “development” is happening in her mind alone and the other girls are doing something else makes this feel really jarring and ironically disconnected. There’s nothing wrong with having emotional chapters where not much “plot” happens, but maybe have people actually, like, talk and interact with each other? Instead of just having one character think about how deep and damaged they are? Idk, just a thought.

Anyway, after several pages of pointless nonsense, Andi finally starts crying and tells the other girls that the new info from Dex and Valen’s whole deal has been taking a toll on her. She also apologizes to Lira, which, bonus points, and to the others for getting her into this. Unfortunately Lira undoes the apology and Andi’s attempt at taking responsibility and admitting to wrongdoing by saying she doesn’t need an apology and only needs to hear Andi complain so she can be the emotional sponge and fortune cookie advice dispenser of the group just like Shinsay always intended.

Now, to be fair, this section is honestly quite touching and I wish Shinsay had focused more on the friendship instead of ... well, literally everything else. Observe:

“I tried to kill [Dex]. What if I’d succeeded?”

“You didn’t,” Breck said. Her dark eyes met Andi’s pale ones as she spoke. “And now you know his side of the story, and he knows yours. You both did terrible things, broke promises, ruined a mutual trust. You can hold on to your anger, if you think that makes you strong.” She smiled a little then. “But brute strength isn’t everything, Andi. Trust me, I would know.”

Man, Breck is really wasted on this book, isn’t she? Or at least the concept of Breck. There isn’t much of her to waste in the first place, lbr.

Andi admits that if Valen tries to kill her when he wakes up, she’s not sure she’ll want to stop him. Um. Shinsay ... It’s time to close the laptop and go outside I think. You are not equipped to handle this.

The crew tells Andi that they can carry some of her burdens for her, which is very sweet, if only Andi showed the same thing in return. Right now all she’s done is mope around, think about how much she loves her crew because they’re just so supportive, and then unload her emotional baggage on them. To her credit, Andi seems hesitant and tells Lira she’s there for her too. Lira’s about to spill the blue beans when Alfie interrupts to tell them that Valen is awake. Lira says that whatever she was about to say isn’t important in what I assume is supposed to be dramatic irony? But watch this actually get forgotten and resolved without her input, making Lira some sort of prophet.

All in all, not the worst chapter, but definitely bloated.

Chapter 51

Andi is pacing back and forth and trying to hype herself up before the meeting with Valen. We find out that apparently, the entire planet of Adhira has no military, because they’re just SO peaceful? Yeahh ... no. The only way I’d accept that is if they had, like, some sort of mind-control abilities and networks of spies and agents in the governments of every other planet nation to prevent any conflict to turn on Adhira, which I doubt since they’re supposed to be the peaceful hippies of the story. It would be mad hardcore if that were the case, but alas, I fucking doubt it my dudes.

Besides, wasn’t Adhira in the war against Xen Ptera? Or did they sit it out but still celebrate the victory as if they helped? What’s going on there?

Also, it’s been four years since Andi last interacted with Valen, which I belive makes her 18-19? Meaning Dex was an older teen when he boned down mid-teens Andi. Ok ok ok ok.

Anyway, today is the day of Revalia, which the United Systems celebrate as it marks the end of the Cataclysm. Andi is not hyped. She’s also not hyped for the Intergalactic Peace Summit that’s happening.

[...] leaders from each of the four systems would be present to symbolize that peace still existed in the galaxy, and would continue to exist between the planets that made up the Unified Systems.

So ... Um. I know Shinsay probably think that “intergalactic” is a really cool sci-fi word and they’ve heard it used before so they had to put it here because it sounds science-y and official, but ... intergalactic means between galaxies. Not between star systems or planets. Given how the summit is defined, interplanetary would be more fitting because they’re all coming from different planets from different solar systems all within the same one galaxy. (Not entirely sure what fancy word would be used for multiple systems, but my point still stands.)

The secondhand embarrassment is strong in this one, y’all. Who edited this?

Gilly finds a Marketable Fuzzy Space Pet and convinces Andi to let her keep it, naming it Havoc. It’s impressive how not charmed I am.

Dex enters with Valen and Andi thinks about how different they are and how fucked-up Valen looks.

What horrors had he lived through?

Being thrown down a flight of stairs, for one. He was rotting at some point also. You know, from all the torture you know he went through for two years? Feels like you should probably know that. Oh, sorry, was that a Deep Rhetorical Question?

I should also mention that Alfie is getting on my nerves big time, which is frankly impressive on Shinsay’s part since I’ll eat up any naïve and emotionless robot character, gears and all, yet somehow they’ve written him to be obnoxious in their attempt at making him charmingly socially inept. I think the fact that I’m supposed to be finding him cute or funny is what’s making me really dislike him. Observe:

“I find the name quite fitting, Breck,” Lira added. “Every beast deserves a strong name.”

“Allow me to assist,” Alfie added, walking over on silent feet. “Havoc is defined, in the Great Universal Dictionary, as ‘great destruction or devastation. Ruinous damage.’”

[...]

Valen inclined his head at Alfie. “My deepest apologies that you’re programmed to work for my father.”

Alfie’s unblinking eyes stared at Valen. “I am detecting strong levels of distaste toward...”

“That’ll be enough, Alfie,” Dex interjected. “Why don’t you go check on the ship repairs? Memory could probably use some company.” 

At the sound of Memory’s name, Alfie’s posture straightened. “I find my gears are warming at an alarming rate. Excuse me.”

Is this supposed to be cute? Endearing? What is the point of Alfie in this story? Why is he here? It feels like his entire reason for existing is to be the silly comic relief and the stereotypical weird AI with no concept of normal interactions. I’m also hardcore weirded out by how horny he is for Memory. It’s making me genuinely uncomfortable for reasons I can’t explain.

Why do we need another comic relief guy? Dex, Gilly and Breck, and now the fucking Havoc (the weird shitty pet thing) all serve that purpose already. WHY DOES ALFIE EXIST?!

Anyway, Alfie leaves and Dex suggests that they all have an “adult conversation” (lol) and the chapter ends on Andi finally greeting Valen and it’s very dramatic.

[leaveharmony]

It’s so hard to type on the tablet so I did only the briefest of summaries at the time.  An account of random Tana encounters in NYC over supercard weekend, cut for length.

Anyway - I’d promised @lone-gunwoman-of-the-week a new york postcard, which with one thing and another I had forgotten entirely about until Saturday, when we passed a big rack of them outside a touristy place down the street and I stopped dead and pointed, “POSTCARD!”

We were on a trek to Macy’s at the time, looking to get mum an emergency replacement purse because hers had blown out its zipper with all the stuff she was carrying in it - the last straw was after Wrestlecon when she couldn’t find her Metrocard, and then it just gave up the ghost.

(Macy’s was way too expensive as an aside - we ended up going to K mart lol.  Those all closed here like two decades ago!)

So we got the postcard, and then a stamp at the other gift shop in the hotel...only I was in pretty rough shape so we decided to go back up to the room so I could actually write the postcard & address and such.  So we went back down to mail it, conveniently at the letterbox at the other end of the lobby.

Like I say, @joshi-hashi by total coincidence booked us at the same hotel where the whole roster was staying, so over the course of three days I ran into / saw, including but probably not limited to: Kazu, Ishii, Sho & Yoh, Yano, Tacos, Goto, Shingo, Naito, EVIL, Will, Shibata & his lions, Juice, Zack (we kept riding the elevator with him lol), Jay, Tama, Haku, Yujiro, Gedo, Jado, Taguchi, Rocky, Ren, Shota, Red Shoes, Sato, Marty, MiSu, Taka, Kota, Kagatsu & a few of the other Stardom girls, Sumie...

Again, I was in rough shape and mum was faring no better, so in the window of time between waking up and the show, we could have gone and done more tourist stuff but after the subway disaster on Friday, we elected just to stay around home base, Saturday.  And I needed to sit down, so we picked a spot on one of the long padded couches in the lobby to recoup a little.  Not a minute later, Tacos, Goto & Yano rounded the bend from the elevator - we’d somehow managed to time it so that we were sitting there as literally everybody was making their way across to MSG for the show.  Hand on heart, total coincidence...I just wanted to mail a postcard lol.  As obviously times when you can just sit there comfortably and watch the whole NJPW roster walk past are fairly limited in number, we elected to stay a while.  Kazu actually came from the direction of the doors but he did have a suitcase, so I have no idea where he’d been - he grinned at us when we waved though.  Shota smiled too, Kota managed somehow to smile, wave and bow without even slowing down because that’s just the kinda guy he is.  MiSu looked at us like we were nuts every time we waved lol but we kept doing it anyway.  Most didn’t notice - I always feel like being to forward is rude so we just kept to our seat & waved rather than trying to get selfies or start a conversation - everybody was obviously all over everywhere and busy.

I couldn’t help myself on a very specific occasion, though.  “We’ll wait til 3:30,” I said casually, fooling no one.  We had the end bench right by the little dividing wall that obscures the elevators; he emerged nearly right next to me and I sprang up like a jack in the box.  My hair was pigtailed and I had my hat on rather than the feathered headband & ponytail, and I was dressed like a normal human being rather than wrestling Cinderella, but he remembered me ^_^  I didn’t want to detain him or anything so we just clasped hands again & I wished him luck - though I guess it didn’t help much.  But I was so happy just to see him again, for what I figured would be the last (probably only) time casually.  Two really sweet Japanese ladies also spotted him on the way out and physically chased him down the lobby to say hi lol.  The pillars were a little in the way but we could see him beaming while they gushed over him, and then they took a selfie.  I guess they must have complimented his hair (which looked fucking amazing) because he told them getting it done for the show cost $300 lol.  It absolutely looked it.  We were still sitting there when they came back and of course they noticed my Tana shirt - they both had his shirts on too (I think he might have signed them on the spot cos they were both proudly showing me the autographs).  So we had a really lovely chat in what they could manage in english (much much better than my broken Japanese).  Rachel appeared not long after, summoned by my mention of Kota going past, and so we all talked a while.  I just.  I love wrestling lol and the kinship of wrestling fans.

Later, after Supercard (which was on whole at least live very good, apart from some really, really stupid decisions on ROH’s part) it was past midnight when we got back to the room; our airport shuttle was due to arrive at 3:05 last we’d heard, but mum had a text message waiting RE: a slight bump up to 3:15, something schedule or logistics related I guess.  So we figured that there was no point going to bed as we’d maybe get two hours’ sleep before the wake up call and it’d be better to use the time packing and getting everything arranged.  When more or less everything was, I went up to floor 12 to sit up at the common table with Elle & Rachel (admittedly I broke into a bit of a sprint when Elle texted to say Tana’d gone past lol).  By another total coincidence as we were sitting there loudly discussing the show, an absolutely lovely gentleman who works in what sounded like a v. important position with NJPW World happened to walk past and overhear.  He’s obviously got a vested interest, so he u-turned as I was saying “If someone had only just casually seen this as a first introduction they’d probably come away concluding New Japan is amazing and ROH is terrible.”

“New japan is amazing?” he echoed, to a chorus of Yes’s.  So we had a chat for about twenty minutes giving him general feedback, telling him how we all met cos of NJPW, how we first heard about it, watch every show live, showed him all our costumes for the show, etc.  He got a handle on Elle and Rachel’s names but kept calling me “Hiroshi” because he’d seen me the day before at Wrestlecon in my Tana dress lmao.   He was a real sweetheart - a fan turned employee, living the dream.  He thanked us for paying his salary, essentially lol.  I should have thought to ask him about putting out an english subtitled version of Shinsuke’s Wonderland interview XD

But I had to run not long after he left, cos I’d cut it a bit fine with 20 minutes or so before the shuttle was scheduled.  We weren’t sure if the driver would come looking or if we had to be outside, so mum checked the keycards while I ran to see if I could ask the doorman, figuring he/they would keep a better watch and know what to look for, or just know which way it would be.  That early in the morning there wasn’t a doorman, though.  So to play it safe we stayed by the doors just inside, keeping watch, figuring at about five min before the appointed time we’d go outside.  “The lobby seems so empty without all the wrestlers in it,” mum remarked.  I figured that late, everyone must have gone to bed already.

Not long after though, TAKA came in with uh...let’s just say ‘some lady friends’ and hope they were fully informed lady friends.  “There, happy?” I said to mum, looking back towards the door in time to see Kota heading for it with a few of the accompanying entourage I figure must have been staff, translators and officials - they were everywhere too, this weekend.  I thought for a split second, ‘Oh good, I’ll be able to congratulate him!’ before he faded to a gentle haze in the background, as the sun himself said something on the way past and walked on by the door, towards Macy’s.  I don’t even think I said anything to mum but she probably understood when I took off at a dead sprint, not even bothering to drop my suitcase handle, just towing it behind me like a little red wagon.  I blew past Kota without even looking at him (I’m so sorry dude!!!!) and went as fast as my poor abused knee could carry me the way he’d gone - he hadn’t gotten far, just tucked around a little corner by the entrance - I think he was gonna do another selfie or panoramic lol. 

Again, the man is fucking unflappable, as he didn’t even raise an eyebrow when confronted with a disheveled, panting nutcase in a trenchcoat and newsboy cap being smacked in the back of her legs w/ her own suitcase at the abrupt stop.  “We’re just waiting for our airport shuttle!” I blurted.  “So I get to say goodbye!”

He actually managed to look happy to see me, bless his heart lol.  He thanked me for the third time, for the doll I made him, and I just said thank you for everything.  Again - I don’t like to be too forward, I don’t even think I could bring myself to ask for a hug, I’m too shy & too much of a headcase wrt fear of being a burden or an annoyance.  But he came at me first, and when the Ace has his arms open to you, there is but one possible course, and that course is to throw yourself into them lol.  He is a wonderful hugger :’)  It’s like being wrapped in the embrace of everything that is good and pure in this world & that’s not even hyperbole, that was really how it felt.

I’m so glad I got to say goodbye.  I mean...it would’t have broken my heart, you know?  There’s always that “Oh maybe I’ll see him again at random” thought in the back of the mind but it’s utterly without expectation.  But I was blessed enough to have the chance to speak to him twice, by chance. 

It really was like a lil fairytale; my lil wrestling Cinderella dream come true in a way I never would have actually believed.

[inside-aut-blog]

Autistic Caleb Widogast

Part One

Caleb Widogast of D&D web series Critical Role is widely recognized by the fan community as autistic-coded. There are many, many, many reasons why, and with the episodes numbering well into the dozens it would take several paragraphs to expound on on all of them.

So here’s the first in a series of posts doing precisely that.

EPISODE ONE:

There isn’t much here in episode one, but there is this:

Caleb uses stereotypically autistic speech patterns in the very first conversation he has in the show. Nott draws it to a close with “All right, well, that’s on the to-do list,” and Caleb immediately mirrors her phrasing with “All right, well, let’s get something to eat then.”

Later, down in the bar, Beau asks Nott if she is cold. Caleb misinterprets this to mean “Why are you wrapped up?” and subsequently explains, very defensively, that Nott is a goblin and obviously goblins are not well-liked in these parts and that is why she is wrapped up and Beau should drop it—which is, uh, pretty much the definition of blunt oversharing, no?

Caleb also, for the first time, shares his magic cat with someone else as an expression of kindness and a kind of second-hand socializing. Beau notes immediately that it’s “kind of therapeutic”; right away, Frumpkin is coded as an emotional support animal. (It helps that he takes Frumpkin absolutely everywhere, often choosing to carry him on his shoulders when he can just as easily pop him in and out of the general vicinity with a snap of his fingers.)

Still later, Jester rearranges one of the shops they visit, and Caleb grows nervous the moment he notices it (“A bit of nerves begin to brew up”). On the one hand, this is probably because he’s afraid of getting in trouble with the shopowner, but on the other: getting anxious at the sight of slight changes in your surroundings is pretty quintessentially autistic.

EPISODE TWO:

Caleb offers to give Nott his cat as a distraction from her urges to steal. Once again, Frumpkin is coded as an emotional support animal. And, on top of this, Caleb seems to hold the idea that—well, he helps me, so obviously he’ll help you too!

Nott reassures Caleb that they can leave the group at the drop of a hat if they need to. “They’ll never know who we were,” she says. “...Caleb and Nott,” he says, responding both literally and with a touch of confusion.

Caleb calls a man’s novel “trashy” and seems to realize a second too late that it was rude; he tacks on a very hasty “No judgement.”

Caleb compliment’s Beau’s muscles very awkwardly.

Caleb goes on to say, “We have been in the woods for too long. I’ve forgotten how to talk to people.” And sure, spending time away from society can make people a little weird. But needing practice to maintain basic social skills like complimenting people? Sounds autistic.

Caleb says, later, “I don’t know what you just said, but I am interested in books. Particularly in the arcane realm, but any kind of book.” That ticks two boxes at once: auditory processing troubles and special interests.

At one point, Beau references Frankenstein and Caleb doesn’t understand what she’s saying. It’s possible, out-of-universe, that this was a meta reference to Frankenstein not existing in the story’s universe, but consider—in-universe, Beau must have referenced the story world’s equivalent of Frankenstein, and Caleb did not get that reference. Therefore: Caleb is not only having difficulty following her metaphor, but he’s missed a pop culture reference.

EPISODE THREE:

caleb is nonverbal after he “gets over [his reaction to casting firebolt]”; he “doesn’t say anything, but starts pushing bodies onto the back of the cart”

stays nonverbal for A While; “during all the busywork, i’m not saying anything, but i keep giving worried and stressed glances at my little friend”

in the middle of planning, with zero transition or context, caleb goes, “also i have a cat” and doesn’t offer context til jester goes ?? yes he’s cute?

gets excited & dances in the street w/nott on his shoulders (stim!!)

nott, when caleb ignores jester in favor of reading: he gets like this when he’s studying. he gets very focused, it’s best not to disturb him

“i prefer him as a cat, to be honest, but in a pinch–” change Bad, cat Good

when jester braids caleb’s hair, liam says “it feels nice”; Sensory Good

“i’m a good talker when i have to be”; qualifies the statement, implying it’s an occasional mask he dons when Necessary

E4:

nott: no one’s going to be around to save you if you get into trouble caleb: i’m almost dead already nott: yeah, that’s not good jester: that’s not comforting, caleb

at the very end of caleb’s conversation w/the guard, liam says caleb looks him in the eye, which implies he was Avoiding eye contact before that

caleb, in court, bluntly: i’m a dirty hobo and i reek like yesterday’s garbage

caleb, abruptly: well, you know, this is very fascinating, but i have some errands to run. nott, would you like to run errands with me? we are totally coming back and not leaving on our own undercover

caleb calls the old shopkeep “grandfather”; he does this with other elderly folks in later episodes too [the woman in the melora statue; madam musk], even when he knows their names. seems like maybe an internal rule that he has to refer to old folks this way bc it’s Respectful?

caleb, overexplaining: this is called a bath nott: i’ve heard of them caleb, still overexplaining: a hot bath

E5:

caleb: before i go away, am i looking for anything specific? beau: just people coming caleb, echoing: people coming…

caleb ducks back behind a corner mid-fight & says “nein nein nein"; repetitive speech

caleb later ducks back behind the same corner & says “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it”; Big Autistic Mood

coin-counting!!

E6:

[abruptly] “well, my social anxiety is getting the best of me. i’m taking a walk. goodbye” + brisk exit

“sorry, my curiosity gets the best of me, always”; blurts out questions

caleb realizes belatedly that his question abt alfield giving them extra coin was callous, goes “it’s asking a bit much, i was too forward”; low empathy

“i’’m sorry, it’s very noisy in the shop. what did you say?”; APD

the whole conversation in the shop caleb is just–super blunt. “i’ve been on the road a long time and i’m carrying a smell with me, if you cannot tell" “to the point, i like it” “i don’t mean cheap shit” “well, it’s a barn, ja?”

caleb, on being reminded that people are dying: maybe i can put [turning frumpkin back into a cat] on hold, although i really hate to (emotional support animal + Different Is Bad + low empathy)

“we can do both, but there is a timestamp on the people. we should take care of the people first, because then we’re increasing how much gold we will bring in, because if they die then we will not get as much money for them if they are alive”; low empathy + extreme practicality

E7:

“yes, handle this [grievously injured] child, but then we’re very curious to ask a couple–i’ll shut up”; [sing-song voice] low empathy……

caleb: you know, it’s funny, because only about 30 minutes ago i also had a bird, but he was obliterated beau: oh, that’s right caleb: it was very sad. i’ll bring him back tomorrow shakaste: thanks for that caleb, oblivious: he and i, we are [crosses fingers] like that

E8:

jester: well, she’s mostly known for her hmm-hmm-hmm. outside of that, her voice is amazing, you should hear her sing caleb: what does that mean? jester: what does what mean? caleb: hmm-hmm-hmm

E9:

feel like it’s worth noting this is the episode where beau tells caleb “maybe you would know what we’re up to if you went along with the group for once!” & from there on out p much invariably caleb makes it a point to step back & go along wherever the group wants. so–internal rule!

“i’ve got to stop complimenting you, it does not lead to good moments” + immediately walks away

beau, shouting: he said enTHUSIASM! caleb, jumping & cringing: ohH jeez!!

caleb sees that yasha is uncomfortable w/jester hugging her & does an Understanding Nod; yasha says, “i’m very uncomfortable with human touch” & caleb goes “i feel like i know you better now”; reads as Same Hat

gets angry at jester. swipes mud down his face in a wordless fuck-you. doesn’t rly align w/any specific autistic traits but listen. listen. does that seem like the kind of thing a neurotypical would do? i don’t think so.

E10:

molly pins caleb to the wall & caleb does not make eye contact or speak

caleb gets stuck for a bit repeating variations of “who kicks a cat?!?!”