#she looked up to him and respected him at first and started reevaluating as she got to know him and then he betrayed her

[sleepingfancies]

no fear - half the game will be spent playing as my inquisitor again - one fear

[tropicalcryptid]

Ok so She-Ra pulled such a great hat trick with Hordak's characterization, and I LOVE it

One of my favorite things about 2018 She-Ra is Hordak's story and development (and Entrapdak cough but that's not the point of this particular post), and the cleverest thing is that so much of it is actually being set up and told to us in seasons 1 and 2 before we even realize that that's what's happening.

When we first see Hordak in the show, he's giving "generic evil overlord" vibes. Garden-variety baddie. Maybe a little more reasonable than some and clearly capable of long-term thinking, but that just serves to make him intimidating. Everything about him--the way he runs his empire, his armor, his color scheme, his minion, his Villainous Eye Makeup(TM), even his name--are all projecting to the audience "yup, Acme Bad Guy here. Move right along."

But then, backstory. And everything snaps into focus. Not only is it one of the first big oh SHIT moments of the show, where we suddenly zoom out and realize that there is SO much more going on than we realized--it's also the start of the audience seeing Hordak as a character rather than an archetype. Suddenly we realize that he's not conquering Etheria because he wants power, or hates happiness and sparkles, or whatever--he's doing it out of a desperate attempt to prove his worth to his brother/creator/god. This moment where Hordak lets Entrapta in is also the moment the show lets us in on what makes our favorite spacebat tick.

On top of that, we've also seen him bonding with Entrapta and opening up to this person that he respects and trusts...probably the only person he's ever respected or trusted apart from Prime. And she's Etherian--someone of a lower species, someone he's supposed to subjugate, someone who he has been raised and trained and programmed and mind-controlled into believing is below him in every way.

But instead she's brilliant and creative and mesmerizing. She's not afraid of him, and she's fascinated with his work. For the first time since being abandoned by Prime, Hordak finally has someone that he can talk to, who is on his level and both understands and cares about the science! (because he is a giant nerd). She's kind to him, a mere defect. And it just sends his whole worldview into a spin, and that's all before--

Bam, mans is a goner. Entrapta's "Imperfections are beautiful" comment punches right through all the toxic bs that Hordak has been steeped in his entire life. You can see on his face here--I think it's the moment Hordak fell in love with Entrapta, but this is also the face of a spacebat reevaluating his entire worldview. If Entrapta, who is amazing, believes something different from Prime...what does that mean? If Entrapta, who is brilliant, believes that he is worth something, and that she herself is a failure...

Well. We know what happens after that, and how Hordak begins to doubt, and eventually fights back against Prime (and remembers his love for Entrapta after TWO mind wipes help my heart ack). But we also get to see what life in the Galactic Horde looks like: the only life Hordak ever knew before coming to Etheria.

It's not nice.

It's really not nice.

Prime operates in a very specific way, and we learn a lot about it in season 5. Prime expects complete obedience, devotion and worship from his clones. He allows no individuality from his subjects, not even a name. Failure or deviations are punished, mind-wiped, or destroyed. We even learn from Wrong Hordak that facial expressions are considered a privilege reserved for Prime (apart from, presumably, expressions of rapture caused by being around Prime).

And once we learn all of this, suddenly thinking about season 1 Hordak becomes very interesting indeed. The time we spend with the Galactic Horde and Prime throws absolutely everything that we know about Hordak into a whole new context. Now all those traits that made him a generic villain are actually hugely effective characterization! And what that characterization is telling us is that Hordak had already moved much farther away from Prime than we (or, probably, he) had realized, even long before he met Entrapta.

Horde Prime does not allow his underlings to have names, personalities, or any differences of appearance. Not only does Hordak allow this among his own troops, he chose a name for himself as well! Season 5 tells us that his very name is an act of blasphemy against his god. And yet Hordak took one for himself, and that name is part of the core identity he is able to hold on to when rebelling against Prime.

Horde Prime cast Hordak out when he showed signs of physical imperfections. Hordak not only keeps Imp (who is by all appearances a failed clone or similar experiment) around, he treats Imp more gently than we see him treat anybody or anything before Entrapta. Imp is not simply "generic evil guy's minion," he is proof of Hordak's capacity for compassion, and evidence that Hordak cannot bring himself to cast aside "defects" as easily as Prime. Considering where Hordak came from, Imp's existence is a huge, flashing neon sign telling the audience this guy here is better than the hell that molded him, and we don't even realize it until 4 seasons after it's been shown to us!

Very cool, ND.

There's more, though. Hordak's red and black color scheme? His dark eye makeup and lipstick? Very Evil Overlord chic. But nope! Actually these are actually expressions of individuality on a level that Hordak knows would be abhorrent to Prime!

Reading between the lines, I see this as Hordak desperately trying to reconcile two diametrically opposed beliefs in his head: (1) devotion to Prime, whose approval he desperately craves, and (2) maintaining some degree of unique personhood, of Hordak, from which to draw strength. Because a failed, defective clone cannot survive on a hostile world, cut off from the hivemind and from Prime's light. A failed clone cannot create an empire to offer Prime as tribute, nor build a spacetime portal from scraps and memory to call Prime back. A failed clone cannot create cybernetic armor to keep his hurting, weakened body alive; to force himself to keep going no matter what, to fight through the pain and the doubt by sheer force of will.

But maybe Hordak can.

And so there it is. Hordak had plenty of time to gain and explore his individuality while separated from Prime, but I think the reason he did it so effectively (while still deluding himself that Prime would forgive him for these little sins, if only Hordak could prove his value) is because he had to.

Wrong Hordak gained his individuality surrounded by kind, quirky people who took care of him; Hordak was ripped from the hivemind by Prime himself and had to fight for his survival against all odds. And that produced a dangerous and damaging foe for Etheria. But it also produced the one clone with the strength of will to defy Prime himself.

This is long and rambling, but ultimately my point is that 1) I love Hordak, and 2) I love love love love that the show was so clever about his characterization. We learn so much about him and how much progress he's already made in breaking from his psycho abusive cult upbringing, and we don't even recognize it until the show wants us to. Hordak had come so far, all on his own, before he met Entrapta. She just helped push him over the edge and finally realize (at least consciously) that Prime's worldview might not be the correct one.

Idk, I just don't know if I've ever seen all the trappings of Basic 80's Villain(TM) so successfully subverted, where looking back 4 seasons later is actually a smack in the face with the "effective character building" stick. Amazing.

[nikethestatue]

Greetings,

I’m a baby elriel. I’ve like never really “shipped” any characters before in my life — and after the last few weeks of looking at the historical/ongoing ship war clusterfuck that is the ACOTAR fandom I don’t think I’m ever going to set sail again anywhere. You and all the other elriels who have been in the trenches from the get go have my respect 🫡 Anyways, your blog is super swaggy and you’re like the chillest elriel I’ve seen, so it is to your inbox that I shall share my testimony, my come to Mother moment if you will.

I didn’t really start giving any serious thought to the two them being a legit thing until I was already done with ACOSF. And it’s wild because it was the “‘I don’t see you spouting poetry, brother.’ ‘I don’t need to resort to it.’” bit in ACOWAR between Cassian and Azriel that triggered me to reevaluate.

When I first read that part I was like damn okay I see you Rizzriel, and I just kept on thinking about it and coming back to it cause it was so funny and entertaining but one day I was like yo hold up, don’t need to resort to it?? Okay, Mr. “Born Hearing the Song of the Wind.” Okay, Mr. waxing poetic about “The Naphelle Philosophy.” Like don’t get me wrong, it is definitely, first and foremost, a subtle flex for his third unspoken title; he is Azriel — shadowsinger, spymaster, and rizz master of the Night Court. However, I am a firm believer that he doesn’t need to resort to poetic words as some sort of attempt at flattery or being charming because the right situation/person naturally draws out that part of him.

✨Walk with me✨

When Elain and Azriel first meet in ACOMAF, even though there’s not a whole lot of interaction between them, it’s definitely a case of two people having a connection simply off vibes alone (yay for those of us who don’t have loud personalities). He puts her at ease with a smile and by acknowledging her fears and apprehension about their presence, about how much of a mindfuck it was for her to be dining in her home with those she was raised to believe were horrific creatures that would kill her if given the chance.

So like because of this, I think Elain is driven by a deeper curiosity that came from her unexpected comfort when she asks “Can you truly fly?” cause ngl asking the dude with massive wings if he can fly is certainly a choice 🧍🏽‍♀�� Like, there’s more to it than that, more than just attempting to transition from a tense situation into conversational small talk which could’ve been done just as easily with the likes of “Tell me about yourself” or a more confrontational “So what are you?” — which is essentially what Nesta asked immediately after 💀

Elain doesn’t know anything about these guys, but she sees Feyre trusts them, and Azriel’s small expressions of gentleness towards her amidst the escalating interactions made her willing to attempt connecting with him further. So I think her asking a ridiculously simple question with an obvious answer was her way of softly inviting him to share something about himself — not necessarily through what he responds with but rather how he responds — because something, if anything, unique to his answer beyond a simple yes or no would offer her a glimpse at him. And what does he do? Stone-faced, cold ass — doesn’t open his mouth except to give the shortest answers possible or to make some sharp sassy retort — Azriel spouts poetry for her about his and Cassian’s heritage.

So after my revelation slapped me in the face and then bonked me over the head for good measure, I went back and sought out all their interactions and was like dang bro became horrendously down bad for her in the most quietly romantic way possible and she’s feelin something too I can’t believe I didn’t pay attention to this before. I love love love that they just seem to be at ease in each other’s presence, that the vibes between them are so immaculate they don’t even need to bother with many words. Existing in comfortable silence with someone is like my favorite way to spend time in relationships whether it’s familial, platonic, or romantic so it makes me feel all fuzzy that we see them like that quite often.

So now I’m here and am looking forward to eventually reading about them and discovering more about Elain’s gifts because the whole creation story with the Mother + the Cauldron always gave me Gaia-type vibes and with Elain being invested in gardening and then being made a Seer by the cauldron because it thought she was so lovely I’m like Elain Archeron — the absolute goddess that you are, light and life flowing through your Made veins — we haven’t even seen all you can do yet and you’ve got this angelic fae male of death and darkness ready to worship you on his knees and I’ma be right there with him yes ma’am 🛐

WOW baby Elriel. You smote me with this beautiful post.

(first of all, you should write fanfiction. You reminded me of the greatest Elriel (or otherwise) writer that ever graced this hot mess of a fandom with their presence)

But I can't agree more. I think SJM actually pays attention to them, as a couple. Not something she does with many others. That relationship just flows so beautifully in the background, calm and poetic, even with the language she uses around them. There is so much imagery of death and life and decay and rebirth and beauty and flowers and blades and warmth and baking and loneliness and despair and searching for love and for home.

I don't know what she'll do with them, but it could be her Magnum Opus if she is careful, thoughtful and steady in crafting their story. What she already put down deserves special treatment when the story actually comes to pass.

Also, welcome to the fandom.

[vickyvicarious]

Jonathan Harker saying that he's going to have to contemplate later and make up his mind about what he believes about idolatry and what he had been taught about what's heretical and to use his own judgment was something I didn't expect

It's kind of interesting, actually. His response when first given the crucifix was somewhat mild:

She then rose and dried her eyes, and taking a crucifix from her neck offered it to me. I did not know what to do, for, as an English Churchman, I have been taught to regard such things as in some measure idolatrous, and yet it seemed so ungracious to refuse an old lady meaning so well and in such a state of mind.

It feels not so much that he's deeply opposed himself, exactly. Just that this is what he has been taught as an English Churchman. And even then, it's only in some measure idolatrous, not totally. So right from the start it seems almost like something he hasn't really had opportunity to form an independent/strong opinion on before now, so much as something he's just been told and didn't particularly question.

But the gift was so kind and she obviously cared so much about him taking it that he accepted. Even more, she and the rest definitely got to him a bit, and so Jonathan continuing to wear the crucifix was not only out of respect for her feelings (he could have taken it off and just kept it with him if his only consideration were not offending her), but also because a part of him is already perhaps wondering if it will be helpful. At the very least, he is drawing some amount of comfort from it, even if it's just from the thought of the old woman's care that the gift reminds him of. He must be, because he's still wearing it around his neck while shaving several days later. We know Jonathan shaves every day, so it seems clear that he has a routine of daily ablutions (quite aside from the character notes of him being on an Important Professional Business Trip and probably wanting to look his best). I highly doubt he could have just forgotten he had it on. Continuing to wear it that long was a deliberate choice, even before it tangibly helps him out. And then comes that bit you're talking about:

What meant the giving of the crucifix, of the garlic, of the wild rose, of the mountain ash? Bless that good, good woman who hung the crucifix round my neck! for it is a comfort and a strength to me whenever I touch it. It is odd that a thing which I have been taught to regard with disfavour and as idolatrous should in a time of loneliness and trouble be of help. Is it that there is something in the essence of the thing itself, or that it is a medium, a tangible help, in conveying memories of sympathy and comfort? Some time, if it may be, I must examine this matter and try to make up my mind about it.

The crucifix makes Jonathan feel comforted and strengthened whenever he touches it. Both could stem from the circumstances in which it was given and when he saw it protect him already. He feels comforted/stronger because it is a form of protection, something of which he has very few in his current situation. Or maybe it's comforting/strengthening because of the tangible reminder that as alone as he is currently, there are still people out there who care about him and want/tried to protect him. Both of those options would be purely emotional placebo effects.

But Jonathan wonders if there is a literal benefit to it as well. If there is some kind of holy essence in fact, which has positive effect on him as well as negative ones on Dracula. He has after all already observed the latter. In considering this option, he is showing a willingness to reevaluate what he has been taught and possibly make his own judgement contrary to his prior beliefs about idolatry.

I'm not going to get into spoilers in this reply, but a decision Jonathan later makes about the crucifix, as well as some later statements about souls/God, seem relevant here. It kind of makes me wonder if Jonathan has viewed his religion mostly as a sort of given, natural state. It's something into which he was educated/raised, it is an identity (English Churchman) that he has accepted as natural but not truly spent a lot of time thinking hard about before. His time here in the castle immediately challenges some of the beliefs that go along with it, and as we progress through the book Jonathan's relationship with religion gets deeper and more complex (both in more-sincerely-religious-than-default and more-contrary-to-his-teachings/blasphemous ways).

[ejzah]

Can you do a fanfic (set during the early seasons) where one by one during different missions or situations, Deeks finally gains the respect and admiration of the whole team since it took them all a really long time to see what was what in front of them all along.

When You See the Real Me

***

Eric

Eric doesn’t have the same strong negative reaction to Detective Marty Deeks as the rest of the team. Once they figure out that he isn’t a killer, or a drug dealer, Eric has to completely reevaluate everything he’s assumed he knew about Deeks.

On the surface, Deeks appears to be excellent at undercover work, but not so much at making friends with some of his LAPD colleagues. It surprised Eric to find out he has a law degree, and even more so when he saw the list of criminals Deeks had brought in under his various aliases.

The closed juvenile case he found during his deep dive he didn’t even think of touching. Hetty hadn’t asked, so he wasn’t looking. Even if she did hire Deeks, Eric couldn’t find a good reason why a case that hadn’t stopped him from becoming a lawyer and detective should be relevant.

The first few weeks (actually months), were rough for the newly appointed liaison. Eric found himself wincing internally when he heard Kensi, Sam, or Callen’s jibes and general dislike. He’d faced their “good-natured” teasing; being the unlikely replacement none of them seemed to want had to be hell.

Still, Eric reservs judgment. As friendly and smart as Marty Deeks seems, none of them really know him. It gets harder though, the longer he stays.

It isn’t a single, defining moment that convinces Eric Deeks is just as good as he seemed on paper. It’s a dozen, small, but equally significant moments.

***

“Hey, Beale!” Deeks crows as he steps into OPS, a coffee cup in hand.

“Hey Deeks. You’re here early.” Eric looks up briefly from his computer to offer Deeks a smile. He’s known Deeks for approximately a month now, and he’s still getting used to his lack of predictability.

Some days he arrives just before a debriefing starts, others he’s the first in.

“Yeah, I stopped for coffee and a donut, and figured I’d bring some for everyone.” He gives the cup in his hand a little shake. “Vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso.”

“No one ever gets that right,” Eric comments, automatically taking the coffee when Deeks offers it to him with a tempting smile. He pops the lid off, inhaling deeply. He sighs regretfully. “But you know there’s no food or drinks in OPS.”

“Hetty’s in a meeting and no one else is here,” Deeks assures him in a conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t worry, I’ll be your look out.”

So Eric enjoys his coffee, and a chocolate glazed crueler, while Deeks monitors the camera covering the stairs. It’s oddly nice, and Eric learns that Deeks worked at a coffee shop one his years at college.

***

The call comes while Eric is busy running a search, sorting through endless photos on the slim chance he finds a man with a lizard tattoo on his hand, and trying to repair a fried hard drive all before he’s had his morning dose of caffeine.

So his greeting is a little less friendly than normal. “What do you want, Deeks?”

“Hey Eric, can you find out if Dominic’s wife had any interaction with his boss?” Deeks asks. Eric hears Kensi say something in the background that doesn’t quite make it across the phone.

“Do you want me to do that before or after I rebuild this completely destroyed piece of tech?” Eric snaps before he can help himself. He inhales sharply, the silence over the phone so loud. “Sorry. I’m just a little busy right now.”

“That’s ok. I know you’ll get there. You always do.”

It’s just a few words, but Eric immediately feels his anger deflate.

“I will. Just give me a little time.”

“You got it. I appreciate it, man,” Deeks says before he hangs up. As he turns back to the hard drive, Eric finds himself smiling.

***

Eric almost does a double take when Deeks walks into the bullpen one day, dressed in shorts and a damp t-shirt. The office of OPS is pretty casual as far as teams go, but aside from Eric, they cut the line at showing calves and chest.

“Woah, you better not let Hetty catch you like that,” Eric warns him, as Deeks marches in.

He offers a nod in greeting and shakes the duffle bag in his hand. “Just headed to change.”

“Do I want to know what you were up to this morning?” Eric asks, implication in his voice. “You look a little wind blown. And sandy.”

“I was surfing and lost track of time,” Deeks explains. “Usually I wait for the weekend, but it was too perfect out there to resist. You surf, right?”

“I have been known to catch a wave or two. I actually won a small competition when I was younger.”

“Well then you should join me sometime.” While he’s talking Deeks quickly swaps out his wet shirt for a dry one. “I usually go with a couple buddies of mine, but we’re always happy to have a bigger group.”

“Oh, wow, sure. That would be great,” Eric responds, thrown off guard by the suggestion. Outside of team outings, which usually take place at a bar, he’s pretty certain no one else has invited him to anything. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Deeks glanced at Eric and then down at his shorts, pulling a face. “I’m just going go change these.” He gestures in the general direction of the locker room.

“That’s probably a good idea,” Eric agrees with a chuckle. As Deeks walks away, Eric smiles to himself.

Marty Deeks is a pretty good guy.

***

Callen

“You know, you don’t have to come with,” Callen says quietly to Deeks, while Kensi and Sam gather supplies from Sam’s house. They’d all just resigned, well aside from Deeks, but Callen hadn’t missed his comment to Vance.

“I’m part of this team, right?” Deeks asks casually, but the look he flashes Callen is deliberate and serious.

“You could destroy your career if you do this, and all for an agency that doesn’t claim you. Or, worse.” Callen has his doubts that they’ll come out of this unsanctioned mission alive.

“Well, that does make me feel all warm and fuzzy,” Deeks drawls.

“I’m serious, Deeks.”

“So am I.” Deeks gives him another look, no give in the expression. “I’m not leaving Kensi without a partner. Or Hetty to die in another country over some generations long feud.”

Callen has watched Deeks put his life on the like for each of them dozens of times since he joined the team. Even Callen has to admit he was a skilled operator, but this is different.

This isn’t merely duty to the job or colleague. This is dedication. And Callen can’t help but respect it.

“Ok then,” Callen says, seeing Deeks through new eyes.

***

Sam

“Back off, give him a minute!” Sam shouts with as much force as he can muster. His voice sounds strained and it makes his lungs and chest hurt, but he’s prepared to physically get up if necessary. Fortunately, the doctors and nurses ease up slightly.

Kensi tries to reason with Deeks, to get him to cooperate for the doctors, but Granger draws her away. There’s still work to do. Then it’s just the two of them and he’s staring into Deeks’ wide eyed, horrified eyes for an agonizing five seconds.

Then Deeks turns his head again, legs writhing and twitching aimlessly on the gurney. He spits out another mouthful of blood, eyes connecting with Sam’s briefly again before he releases a shuddering breath.

One of the doctors moves back in, and Deeks starts to clench his jaw again.

“Hey Deeks, it’s going to be ok. I’m gonna be here the whole time. They just want to help you, ok?” Sam tells him, speaking like they’re the only two in the room. He sees Deeks still again, his body still tight, protective though. He can only imagine where his mind is right now.

It’s amazing that Deeks was able to hold it together at all to pull off the final piece of their charade and protect Michelle one more time.

“That’s good, man. You let them look at your mouth. I know it’s going to hurt, but they’ll give you something for that.” One of the nurses gives him a grateful nod.

It’s the least he can do. He owes Deeks his life. Michelle’s. Sam closes his eyes briefly, overwhelmed by the thought; how different this all might be if Deeks wasn’t so damned strong.

After several seconds, where Sam sees Deeks inhaling shallowly through his nose, Deek open his mouth just enough for the doctor to fit a camera and dental mirror inside. Deeks whimpers, but makes no other sound, though his fists clench in the thin coverings.

The next 10 minutes are awful as the exam continues, and the doctor rattles off a growing list of injuries. Decimated molars, damage to the gums, fractured jaw and cheek bone. Sam tallies it all. He’s barely aware of the tests performed on his own behalf, his focus on Deeks.

It feels like seeing him for the first time; past the long hair that he let annoy him for so long, past the irreverent attitude, the jokes, that didn’t fit into his orderly world view. Underneath all that, he saw a man who was talented, brave, and unceasingly loyal.

A man he owes everything.

He keeps watching, even after Deeks finally gives in to the pain and passes out.

“I got your back too, brother,” he promises.

***

Kensi

The bad guys are either dead or in custody, they’re all alive, and all Kensi really wants is a shower. Her bones ache more than after any training exercise or the marathons she’s run.

She twists her head to the side, more of a flop given her current energy levels. For once, she’s relinquished control of the keys, and Deeks is driving, his hands firm and sure on the steering wheel.

He’d come out of their adventure with a nice bump on the back of his head, but was ultimately cleared from a hospital visit.

God, she owes him so much.

“That was really smart, thinking of the laser trigger,” she says, and he grins, perhaps anticipating a joke about his intelligence. Not today, though.

“I do have my moments,” he replies when she doesn’t say anything else. It’s so dismissive, making his plan commonplace, like any other day. Suddenly she needs him to know it’s not.

“I’m serious, Deeks. You came along at just the right moment, because I was so close to giving in.” She presses her lips together, remembering the utter exhaustion from hours upon hours of standing without being able to fidget or stretch for fear of interrupting one of time beams. The way her legs had trembled near the end. “I never would have thought of anything besides the bomb squad.”

She thinks of his gentle reassurance when she’d begged him to help her. She’d asked him to put his life in danger, for her, and he didn’t even hesitate a moment.

Over the course of their relatively short partnership, Kensi has come to appreciate his ingenuity and skills when it comes to their job. She’s just now letting herself recognize it.

Deeks shakes his head, seeming overwhelmed by her appreciation. “God, you know I had no idea if it was going to work. Especially that last part. That was just…pure insanity.”

“Yeah, but it did. And you never left my side,” Kensi says. She touches the back of his hand, just a mere brush of her fingertips over his knuckles. Nothing that could be even considered actual handholding. “Thank you.”

Deeks stills, his mouth opening and then closing before he settles on a simple, “You’re welcome. I’d do it all over again if I had to.”

***

A/N: I tried to think of key moments for each of the original cast which would correlate with them treating Deeks differently. Obviously, Deeks still was treated differently or teased after these points, but he wasn’t just an outsider anymore. Eric’s was a little bit difficult because I think he was fairly welcoming to Deeks from the beginning. And of course I had to go with Descent/Ascent for Sam, even though it occurs four seasons in. I’m also coming at this from the perspective that the team knew Deeks was worthy teammate, but they hadn’t admitted that to themselves yet.

Thanks for the prompt!

[todoslosdiasdemivida]

a starter for @quick-drawn​ 

‘I don’t know how he’ll take it, Mona. He’s mad at the whole world right now and even more angry at me. Chances are, even if he did agree to the offer, it wouldn’t be a pleasant experience for anyone. Maybe we can reevaluate it next year.’

‘The kid has no family. He was dragged away kicking and screaming from the people he considers his people. I’d say he’s probably more than angry… but deep down… I think he’s also feeling adrift and isolated and more than a little scared,’ she had said. ‘… Just… ask him for me. Please, Gabe? If he says no, then we did what we could… But if he says yes, maybe we can at least start trying to prove to him that he didn’t get yanked from the frying pan into the fires of some fresh, new hell.'

 ‘And Carlos?’

One dark eyebrow arched, expression shifting to one of wry amusement. 

‘If he can get rough with a two year old asking him to play Seek, then he’s an absolutely irredeemable monster that you need to send straight to prison and not waste your time with.’ A beat. ‘Don’t try to run a play on me, buddy. You’re not fooling me. You didn’t pull him for Blackwatch just because he’s got some skills. You saw something in the kid and wanted to give him a shot at something better. Look me in the eye and tell me I’m wrong.’

He didn’t.

‘… Fine. I’ll ask. Just don’t bother with getting the guest room set up just yet.’

Gabe looks over at the teenager for what’s probably the fiftieth time today. He still appears just as surly now as he did the first time at the start of the day, and he asks himself again if he should have agreed to Mona’s request. He could have stood by what he said and she wouldn’t have been happy about it, but she would have respected it, let him make the call and then she was free try again next year.

But he doesn’t think she’s wrong and he had agreed to at least make an attempt and now there’s only to make that attempt.

It’s drawing ever nearer to quitting time for the day when they’ll go their separate ways for the holiday break––short of an emergency reconvening them––and each tick of the clock only makes him more and more acutely aware of that fact.

Now or never, Reyes.

“McCree. Can I talk to you for a second? There’s no trouble. I just need your input about something.”

[lightandspark]

Presenting my humanformers AU designs for The Aerialbots.

(So far, I came up with that Cybertron is still at war and all our beloved characters are aliens that look like humans but they bleed blue, wether they still feast on energon is yes but it’s complicated… I still have to work things out)

However, presenting the Aerialbots where there is:

The leader Silverbolt: She was appointed to the role as leader rather reluctantly, since she really doesn’t wanted to be in charge of her comrades in fear of leading them to danger due to her own fears of flying… however, fiercely loyal and protective with a good head on her shoulders, is a capable leader wether she believes it or not as she proven herself multiple times. Also, Team Mom, as she always ensures her comrades are well and healthy; wether making sure Skydive gets enough sleep, tending Air Raid’s wounds after battle, helping Fireflight clean up after an accident he had when he wasn’t paying attention, and constantly chasing down Slingshot to ensure he doesn’t get himself killed for opening his big mouth.

The unassuming and intelligent Skydive: Usually lurking in the shadows behind his comrades, he is tall, dark, handsome, dangerous on battlefield. Good looking, cautious, and well mannered, he is the team’s strategist and perhaps the most experienced when it comes to aerial battles. Highly respects Silverbolt, though, when she isn’t leading, he takes in charge and is her most trusted.

The fearless Air Raid: Acts first, thinks later. Always willing to pull the most reckless stunts, wether in battlefield or in general, he is a brave spark. Though, he wouldn’t risk his comrades’ lives though and chill sacrifice his own life for each of them… even Slingshot, despite they clash heads a lot. You can usually find him next to Skydive, asking questions about the upcoming strategies… and offering his rather impulsive takes on it. Though, they show a mutual respect for each other.

Dreamy Fireflight; who usually has his head in the clouds and a bit absent minded but smart. He means well though, polite and a complete gentleman with a romantic heart, you could usually find him in his own corner sketching away. Usually causes accidents due to his absent mindedness, wether he is in the air or on ground. But he is brave, has a keen eye to detail, and always has his teams back when needed. 

Finally, you got Slingshot, who usually is a bit of a loud mouthed jerk. Always needing to prove that he is the best, no matter what he is doing. The one who drove EVERYONE on the team mad with his big mouth; from nitpicking Skydive’s strategies rather rudely, clashing heads with Air Raid, not getting along with Fireflight, only when Silverbolt was appointed as leader he really starts to come around. After having a near death experience, with her saving his life, follow by their comrades coming to his aid, he took some time off to reevaluated his treatment of them. He is still a jerk… but a jerk with a heart of gold that would do anything for his fellow Aerialbots.

(Will soon drawn their rivals, The Stunticons. Their fellow Autobots The Protectobots. Some familiar faces, wether Autobot, Decepticon, human, alien, or more, we’ll see.)

[ezrisdax-archive]

shakarian 🙊

Send me a ship and I'll give you my (brutally) honest opinion on

oh so we are doing the roasting, lmao. man I hope this doesn't show up in tags but if it does I am sorry fans.

look you know I cannot stand g*rrus. that fucking asshole is out here with 'well I'd have still gone on a genophage with the krogan cause it was my people in trouble' and you expect me to be okay with that????

like as a ship.....I don't get it given how much I dislike him. some of the lines are great I'll give you that but that's the same with like any bioware love interest. it just doesn't inspire any emotion in me because I just get the feeling that when you're dead g*rrus is just gonna go on some murder spree rampage like ME2 all over again and no lessons were learned if you were playing paragon with him. if you're playing renegade I think it makes a lot more sense to me as a ship honestly. doesn't mean I like it though.

looking at it in terms of the other ME ships I also feel he gets some of the least development too. tali comes to see you as her home even after getting rannoch back, kaidan, ash, and liara all get the grief of losing you and living without you for a time before coming back as different people and reevaluating the relationship from there, jack places a vulnerable trust in you I mean she still does as a friend but there's a very different level in what she shows when you romance her in it, miranda first comes to see you as a person and not just a symbol and then as someone she can also be vulnerable with who doesn't just see her as a clone, thane's is a tragic romance of second love and loss and thane wanting to live again just as life is about to be over and he'd accepted that, sam I admit doesn't get a lot of development either but there's is more a relationship built on mutual respect to me that starts from physical attraction, and then steve sees you as another chance to open up again in that romantic sense even after all the hurt before. (and of course jacob's was the worst written, bioware you owe me a lot for that one) while g*rrus just...doesn't have the growth I see in the others written in a relationship, he idk, trusts you the same way he did in ME1 and awkwardly flirts? okay?

it's not a ship for me at all and I've played it once, deleted that save file in it's entirety and stopped caring about it.

[j-graysonlibrary]

The Xiang Chronicles: Book Two Chapter 15

Title: The Xiang Chronicles: Book Two

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 98k

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, drama, LGBT+

Available on: my website

Synopsis: With another Xiang in the mix, for the first time in history, Pangu decides to reevaluate his methods and his place in the world. Along with taking his little sister Heidi as his last disciple, he also chooses to take the more political path in his efforts to end the discord throughout the land—particularly within Terra. (And gaining favor from the handsome Lord of Ultimos does not hurt.)

Heidi butts heads with everyone in the group, save Raine, and tensions are higher than ever. There are failed love confessions, in-group fighting, and demons from Kira’s past but that all comes to a head when they meet a servant of Shakti who is more than what she seems.

Could it be that the Mistresses of Shadow are more nuanced than previously believed? Or that the strict dichotomy between light and dark are, perhaps, a touch exaggerated? That and more begin to plague Pangu’s mind and his faith wavers…

Full chapter 15 under the cut

Chapter XV:

Returning to Castelle was like taking a breath of fresh air. It was still clear of miasma and the familiar sights and sounds brought a lot of comfort to Pangu but especially to Raine. The urge to spend all afternoon at the market stalls to relax and take their minds off of things was tempting but there were other matters to attend to.

However, they had arrived a little ahead of schedule due to the days of hasty travel through Terra so Raine began to wonder.

“Guys,” he got their attention on a less crowded street. Though, as they stopped, people still hurried around them, huffing at the slight roadblock they created. With so many of them, it really could not be helped so he aimed to get to the point. “Would any of you mind if we stopped by my home before seeing the King?”

“Waiting an extra day won’t kill him,” Kira easily agreed.

“As much as I would like to get to the bottom of that letter,” Pangu began, “I cannot deny that I would love to see where you grew up. You went without me and Kira last time.”

“You have not mentioned much about your family,” Heidi said, very curious herself.

“Because he is an orphan,” Baiya told her.

Her confusion was palpable. “Wait…so are we visiting an orphanage…?”

“That is right.” Raine smiled. “I could have sworn I mentioned it to you before.” Perhaps he only thought that he had or, perhaps he had but so much happened between now and then that she forgot. Both were just as likely.

“Oh…well, even if it is an orphanage, you still seem fond of it.” Heidi plastered a smile on her face, hoping to make up for any possible upset she might have caused with her words. “I would love to go.”

“Alright.” Raine grinned from ear to ear and led the way.

Every soldier and guard out on patrol straightened their posture and stopped breathing when Raine passed by. Some even forgot to salute him and then started to bow frantically as they asked his forgiveness.

“You do not need to show me so much respect,” Raine told one young man in particular. He was probably no older than seventeen by the looks of him. “All I ask is that, if word gets around that I am in town, to let our King know that I am taking a slight detour before meeting with him.”

The kid nodded with his mouth agape but said nothing.

Baiya thought Raine’s charm with soldiers despite what country they served was already a strange talent the man had but seeing how he was treated in his home country was really something else. It was as if he, himself, was a lord in his own right. After the first few interactions, the rest just became funny.

“Wow, Raine,” Heidi chuckled as they walked away from the awestruck teenager, “You are very popular.”

“Every man in the military is a little in love with him,” Kira commented with a smirk.

Raine shook his head and fought the blush that tried to make its way onto his cheeks. “That is ridiculous. Do not listen to Kira.”

“Way ahead of you,” Heidi muttered.

Kira rolled his eyes and kicked up a small incline in their path to trip her. She turned back to glare at the road and not him, making him snicker to himself.

The orphanage was a two story, wide, stone building with moss and ivy growing up the left side giving it the appearance of being quite old. A stone wall closed in the yard with an iron gate being the only entrance. Raine pinched the lock on the gate and pulled it up, opening it with ease. It creaked as he pushed it back and a smile came to his face as if the sound itself spurred nostalgia in him.

A lot of bushes and shrubs lined both the inside of the stone wall and the sides of the building itself. Some were a little more overgrown than others, letting the group know that there had been some neglect in recent years.

Still, Raine marched up to the front door with a jovial expression. He used the iron knocker to clank against the wood three times and then stepped back.

A few moments passed but the door did open eventually by a crack. A thin strip of an old woman’s face showed and she seemed anxious at first but, of course, the second she realized it was Raine in front of her, her eyes widened and she threw the door back all the way.

It happened in a flash and if Pangu had blinked he might have missed it. The old woman shrieked, threw her arms up in excitement, and then wrapped them around Raine’s middle. “You are back!”

“I am.” Raine patted her on top of her snow white hair. There was not much of it but what she had was pulled back into a bun on the back of her head. “Everyone, this is Song Ranmu Sei. She was like my mother when I grew up here.”

“Was?” Ranmu recoiled from her hug and slapped his arm though, with all of his armor, it was doubtful he felt it at all. “I am still your mother, Raine.”

“Ah, well…yes.” He stumbled over his words and scratched the back of his head, embarrassed.

Baiya resisted the urge to snicker. After all, he knew what Raine was feeling. Even if he was not blood related to the woman, there was no denying she was his mother. He had received the same look from his own mother that Ranmu was giving Raine.

“So,” the old woman glanced between them, “This must be the full Xiang group.”

Pangu bowed first. “I am Shu Pangu Min, the Xiang.”

“Oh, please, do not bow to me.” Ranmu held her hands out in front of her, shaking them back and forth. “I am not worthy of such respect, great Xiang.”

“Sure you are. You raised Raine, right?” Pangu grinned. “He has helped me more than I can say so of course you deserve my respect.”

She blushed and partly covered her face but was still attentive to the rest of the introductions. “I am Pangu’s sister and his Enlil disciple, Shu Heidi Min.”

“I am the Agni disciple—Kin Baiya Yang Chi.”

Kira waved. “And I’m Kira.”

“May we come in, ma?” Raine asked as he rested his hand on her back.

“Of course!” Ranmu jumped a little. “It is a bit dirty so you will have to mind the mess. We have some real rambunctious scamps here right now.”

Past the first narrow hall, the house opened up into two large communal spaces with a staircase in the middle and a kitchen in the back. Most of the rooms were visible through wide archways connecting them. Toys and books were scattered about the floor and the sound of kids talking and shouting bounced off of the walls.

But there was also a much older, calmer voice that rose above the others. “Su, what did I tell you about reading that? That is from Ranmu’s personal collection, you may not take it.”

At that, Ranmu turned as pale as a sheet and ran off, muttering only a short, “Excuse me,” before leaving. Then her voice, despite her clearly trying to keep it down, echoed back to the group, “You took THAT volume? Su, you are far too young for this, my goodness.”

Kira started to snicker and Raine did not try to hold back his smile either. Not much had changed on the inside.

After a moment, Ranmu returned but she was not alone. At her side was a young woman, probably around Pangu and Kira’s age or perhaps even a little older. She was short with heavy hips and dusty brown hair that she pulled back into a little ponytail. Her eyes were dark and shaped like half moons and her lightly tanned skin was dotted with freckles.

“Ami,” Raine greeted, “What luck to come while you are here.”

“I am here most days, Raine,” Ami replied with a smile, “It was just exceptional bad luck when you visited last and I was away.”

The two hugged though not as intensely as he and Ranmu had. Ami appeared rather reserved or, maybe, she was shy with so many eyes on her.

Ranmu took the liberty of introducing everyone to her, getting everyone’s names correct except for Baiya when she switched the Yang and Chi in his name. He let it slide but Pangu gently corrected her.

“Well, seeing as it is just past midday, it is about time for the kids to go out while I start preparing dinner,” Ranmu said with a sigh. “Raine, if you are staying, would you mind keeping the kids company in the yard?”

“Of course.” He smiled. “Do you not need help in the kitchen though?”

“I have Ami for that.” The old woman pulled Ami in by the waist.

Pangu felt a tug at his robe and looked down to see a small child grinning up at him with some missing teeth. “Hello,” he greeted and waved down at them.

They started to breathe heavy and shake with laughter which Pangu did not especially understand but he still gave them his undivided attention. “Will you play with me?”

“Sure?” Pangu cocked his head to the side. If Raine was going outside with the kids anyway, he wanted to go with him.

“Have you played with small children before?” Baiya asked, leaning close.

“Well, no, not especially. Why?” Pangu knew his Agni disciple had more experience with children due to all of his younger siblings but he felt there was something of an accusation laced in his words.

He chuckled. “Well, in Phaos, you did toss a girl up into the air.”

“I asked her if it was okay first.”

“And when we were with my family, you asked Feiman what fields of study he fancied. And when he said jumping, you responded that physics was a surprisingly difficult field for an eight year old.”

“I was being cheeky—I know what he meant by it,” Pangu defended himself before picking up the child who had started to tug at his robe again. “You think I am bad with kids, don’t you?”

Baiya snickered and followed him and Raine out toward the back. “No, no, of course not.”

Kira initially was not interested in staying where the children were since he cared little for them but he had a feeling he would want to see the result of this. Plus, he had some questions for Raine.

Heidi, however, stayed behind. “I can help with dinner as well.” Normally she would be opposed to helping in the kitchen while all the men went off to literally play but, in this instance, she was going to let it slide.

Ami shot her a smile and nodded before they all walked to the kitchen. As Ranmu began to pull out all the pots and ingredients, Ami placed a hand on her back.

“Ma, why don’t you go take a nap?”

“I need to prepare dinner…”

Ami shook her head. “Heidi and I will do everything. It is not often you have this much help, you should take advantage of it.”

It did not take much more coaxing and Ranmu was nodding in appreciation. “You girls just call for me if you need help.”

“Alright ma.” Ami smiled and watched her go. Once the sound of the stairs creaking under Ranmu’s weight could be heard, letting her know she was on the way upstairs, she turned to Heidi. “Alright, now we can talk.”

Heidi almost asked how she knew that she wanted to talk but then she promptly realized she had things backwards. Ami had done all of that so she could say something.

“How long have you liked Raine?” she opened with.

A terrible blush came over Heidi’s face and she took a step back. “W-what? What do you mean?”

Ami rolled her eyes. “You think I cannot tell when a girl longs for that boy? I practically invented the look.” She then mimicked the pining expression but also craned her neck up to the ceiling. Her head snapped back and she reiterated. “I know.”

“So…you like Raine too?” Heidi gathered.

“Liked,” she clarified. “He was my first love and I even confessed to him when we were teens.”

While she could guess how that went, Heidi still asked, “What did he say?”

“He said he saw me as a sister. It was the answer I was afraid of but I guess it is better than him making a scene and calling me ugly or something.” Ami crossed her arms. “That would have been out of his character though.”

“Has he always been like he is now?”

“Not exactly.” Ami started to walk and released her arms on the way. She picked up where Ranmu left off and continued to set everything out for dinner. “He was polite and sweet but he was a little more rebellious. Our lives here were nice and all but he always wanted to run away and see the world.”

“Is that why he became a soldier?” Heidi guessed.

Ami grinned. “Yep. And now he is a disciple to the Xiang and has been all over the world—not just Kyrie. All of his greatest wishes have come true.”

Heidi started to take some of the work, helping to shuck corn and chop vegetables. “Did Raine have any other dreams?”

“What? You mean like marrying or starting a family?” Ami shot her a sideways smile. “No. He never talked about stuff like that.”

“Maybe because he was a boy?” she suggested.

But Ami laughed at the prospect. “All the other boys talked about their future wives so that was not it at all. He was just…always focused on his goals of seeing the world and meeting the Xiang one day.”

The image of little Raine being as serious as he was now was enough to make Heidi laugh. “He really did make all of his dreams come true then.”

“He did.” Ami took the vegetables and washed them again before dumping them into a huge pot. “So, you did not answer my first question. How long have you liked him?”

She had really been hoping she had forgotten that. Heidi sighed. “Around the first time I met him. He is very handsome and all. But, the more time I spent with him, the more I liked him. He’s very considerate and understanding. Plus, he isn’t intimidated by me like most men back home.”

Ami chuckled under her breath. “He has a way of charming people without meaning to. It would be tragic if it was not so funny.”

Heidi laughed too. “Yeah…” her voice trailed off and she focused on some of the other prep work as directed by Ami. But a rogue thought made its way to the forefront of her mind. She looked at the shorter woman and asked, “What about your dreams?”

“Huh?” Ami just barely caught her eye before returning to washing the pot of rice.

“Your dreams,” Heidi restated. “Raine made all of his dreams come true but did you ever have big dreams?”

“Oh umm…” Ami struggled with her words and stopped spinning the rice about to think. “I suppose my biggest dream when I was little was to be with Raine, as ridiculous as that sounds. I also always thought about opening a jewelry stand in the market square or—oh! I forgot all about this!”

Heidi smirked at the sudden excitement in the woman’s voice. “What?”

Ami turned around, flicking the water from her hands. “I wanted to be a puppeteer for the puppet shows that play in town. I heard some of them travel from town to town so, when Raine would always talk about travel, I would imagine I had a job that let me follow him. Plus, the puppet shows were always funny when I was a kid.”

“Why not try to be one now?” Heidi shrugged.

But the other woman shook her head. “I need to stay here to help Ranmu and I will probably take over once she passes.”

Heidi frowned. “Why not do both?”

Ami opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before laughing. “You are the optimistic sort aren’t you?”

Instinctively, she wanted to argue that point. Pangu was the optimist—she was more of a realist.

There was no time for a rebuttal, however, when Ami kept talking, “I think you could be good for Raine, actually. But you have to be direct with him. He will never get it otherwise.”

That irritating blush returned and Heidi wished she could slap it away. She also wished her face would not betray her by smiling so much. Though she could not deny how happy Ami��s words did make her.

The idea that Raine could like her, if only she told him plainly…it made her heart flutter.

[fernandothefox]

Sometimes, when we're feeling several emotions simultaneously, they can settle in our gut and make us feel nauseous. When the feelings subside and you let your thoughts rest, have a look at the photo with a clear mind and document what feelings begin to arise in you. Since you said this is the first guy that made you feel something, it may be worth sorting through your feelings and discovering if the initial feeling may have been anxiety, excitment, or it could very well be disinterest but don't sabotage your happiness until you've figured it out, but don't force yourself for an answer either. Sometimes, it's best to let yourself be, and the answers will come.

Hey! This might be about a post I made about this guy I thought I was interested in. We'll call him M! So M and I went on a date (saw the new Puss in Boots movie, worth every penny!) And we also walked around the mall for a bit. I had a lot of fun and so did he and it was just great :], this also helped me figure out that I was 100% a lesbain haha...

I talked to my therapist about some stuff, and she helped me figure everything out. I couldn't understand at the time why (outside that date) I was so uninterested and even sometimes annoyed w/ talking to M, he's funny, he respects me, we have the same interests, and he's attractive. I didn't understand why I wasn't into him, since he checked all the boxes I thought of when I thought of dating guys. This helped me realize that well 1. I just don't like men like that, I like looking at them from afar, but when we actually start talking im uninterested, and 2. I didn't have the same standards for women, i can't stop complimenting women but for men it's like pulling teeth lol.

Anyways I hope this experience helps other WLW questioner's out there, M's a great guy and we still game together sometimes, so if you find the guy that checks all the boxes for you but your still like "eh" than maybe reevaluate!

Anyways to Anon thank u for sending this! It's actually really good advice and pretty much exactly what my therapist suggested lol! It takes me a while to really process my emotions bc im autistic so i can get caught up in other ppls vibes and happiness and not realize that i'm not actually feeling the same, i'm just mirroring them :]

[dollwritesarchive]

[ ᴍɪɴɪ ᴍᴜsɪɴɢs ] playing house ❛ sam rothstein

fandom: robert de niro / casino featuring: sam “ace” rothstein x nanny!reader rating: sfw, but it’ll give you baby fever, also there’s a lot of fuck Ginger vibes in this too :) summary: in the midst of a not-so secret affair with his daughter’s nanny, sam begins to reevaluate the choices he’s made when his picture perfect family is right before his eyes. attention: do not repost my works or claim them as yours. feedback and reblogs are essential to me, so please consider letting me know what you think!

home.

the word has never meant much to you, but you hoped one day it might. one day, when you thought of the word home, you’d think of what your own should be. a quaint, little place on the edge of town, maybe in a suburban neighborhood with an excellent school program. of course, you would need one for the little ones. what would a home be without children? two or three, you wanted boys. maybe a dog, too. a friendly lab mix. and then, there was the husband- you used to daydream about what he would be like: handsome and kind, with a gentle touch and a respectable, middle class career. it didn’t seem like too much to ask, to have a normal life. if anything, you’d much prefer to live a humble life; it was what you knew, what you grew up with.

you never thought your home would be Sam Rothstein’s house.

expensive and gaudy, every aspect down to the structure of the building conflicted with your idea of what a home should be and the type you’d grown up in, and perhaps it was because of your upbringing, or maybe it was because, for the first couple of months, you were simply a guest. you were an employee of the Rothstein family, someone that took care of the baby and the house while Sam was at work, and Ginger… well, while Ginger did what she did best: drink.

at first, everything was normal (aside from the constant tension that surrounded the jaded couple), and you were content to stay in the guest room, take care of baby Amy, cook, clean, and get paid handsomely each week for it. considering yourself one of the lucky ones, you remember how tough a city Vegas is. you were grateful that you made enough to cover student loans without finding more sordid ways to supplement your income.

besides, Sam Rothstein was a kind man, no matter what the media wanted the public to believe, or what his wife would mutter beneath her breath as she pushed past you in the kitchen. you admired him quite a bit from the start, how put together he always was. plus, you couldn’t help but notice how easy on the eyes he was, or how nice he always smelled, aside from the lingering tobacco odor. he smelled lavish, which would’ve been a surprise to no one, but you caught notes of warmth within the cologne he wore. little things, like cedar, that gave him the illusion of smelling the way you’d expect hellfire to smell. alluring, addictive.

one could say that you even developed a sort of crush on the married man, on your employer, over the duration of your stay; such things were only bound to happen when you spend every day with the same person, especially when that person was someone like Sam. was it not normal to look up to someone much older, who seemed so put together? after all, you recall crushing on your AP English teacher in senior year. it must be the same, right?

that’s all that it was, a harmless crush. you’d never do a thing to jeopardize his marriage, his image, or (god forbid) his career.

however, you weren’t the one that flipped that switch. he was, the night he kissed you for the first time by the pool.

since then, to say you were simply employed by the Rothsteins would be a joke. you no longer slept in the guest bedroom, but occupied the side of Sam’s bed meant for his beloved. of course, Ginger had grown so bitter, so tired of the marriage, that she hardly cared. most nights she passed out on the couch, and you would clean up the vomit and spilled vodka from the carpet beside her in the morning. of course, you’d have to hear all about how you were fucking her husband when she was hungover; she hated you for many things. your youth, your kind nature, and maybe she even hated the way that Sam looked at you- like you were the brightest star in the sky. these were the little things, but mostly? mostly, Ginger hated the idea of you stealing her meal ticket from her. the only thing Ginger cared about, the only thing you weren’t allowed to touch, was Sam’s precious money. have him six ways from Sunday, but leave his wallet untapped. she wanted his wealth all to herself, but you didn’t care. you didn’t love the man for what was in his wallet. you loved him for what was in his heart.

this night is much like any other in the Rothstein house, quiet as soon as Sam had come in from the casino. Ginger was passed out drunk in a loveseat near the kitchen. Baby Amy had been put to bed (by you, of course), much earlier. Sam woke you up, of course, by leaving kisses that linger about your neck and shoulders, and then made love to you. soon after, the two of you had fallen asleep.

it was Amy’s crying from down the hall that woke you. your eyelids flutter, albeit reluctant, and you’re already reaching to pry Sam’s arms from around your naked midriff before they even open completely. he’s an easy one to slip away from when he sleeps- although he’s not a heavy sleeper in any sense, his work at the casino exhausted him. shivering, you reach for his button up shirt, tossed carelessly in a puddle of fabric on the floor. Sam always said you could wear Ginger’s nighties, but that seemed strange to you. you already had her husband, and yet wearing her clothes seemed to be going too far.

besides, you preferred his scent that clings to the shirt, and you practically nuzzle it before slipping your arms through and pulling it around you. Amy is relentless in her screaming, so much so that you practically jog down the hall to the nursery. you weren’t too worried about it waking Ginger, but Sam would certainly stir. flipping on the light, you find her, all of a year and a half, gripping the bars of her crib, squalling. “Oh!” you exclaim, raspy as you cross the room to take the toddler in your arms. “What’s the matter, mm? What’s all this?” cooing, you wipe at her tears with one hand, while the other holds her close to your torso. she seemed okay, she didn’t need to be changed, and you could tell by the crying that she wasn’t hungry. “Did you have a bad dream?” you whisper, bouncing on your heels as you pace the length of the room with her, alternating between gentle shushing and rocking her back and forth in your arms. she was beginning to quieten down, little nose and cheeks the color of tomatoes and wet. “It’s okay, honey,” you press a loving kiss to her temple. “I’m right here. I’ve got you. You’re okay, you’re okay. Let’s not wake daddy, yeah?”

♠️ ♠️ ♠️

Sam Rothstein was not a heavy sleeper. even for as hard as he worked at the Tangiers, his slumber was easily disrupted, especially by the sound of his daughter crying. hazy, he reaches out to pat you on your side of the bed, mumbling your name, only to find his palm presses flush against an empty mattress. his lids part moments later, to see you’ve already slipped away. chuckling to himself, he rubs the fleeting warmth from your body against the sheets. “Good girl.” he croaks, pushing the sheets from his naked figure to stand up.

working all day and most of the night didn’t leave much time for the two of you to spend time together, and so stolen moments such as the one that presents itself, an instance of reprieve from the chaos that was Sam Rothstein’s life, he cherished these.

moments later, clad in little more than a robe, he nearly reaches for his cigarettes on the way out the bedroom, but thinks better of it. you were stern about limiting the exposure to smoke that Amy had, and he knew you were right. later, he assures the plastic pack on the dresser near the door.

halfway through his trek down the hall, he catches a glimpse of his wife on the couch. pure disdain paints his countenance, looking over the mess of a visage. this, at one time, was the woman he thought he loved with all of his heart. now, she was sloppy drunk and unconscious with makeup smeared over her face while another woman cares for her child. a disgrace, through and through. the muffled sound of Amy sobbing had died down drastically, and it’s only when he pushes the door open that it ceases completely.

“-Let’s not wake daddy, yeah?”

his lips etch upwards, running thick digits through unruly and graying tendrils. “Consider daddy woken up.” he murmurs, playful, but he’s lost in the picture painted before him.

you were almost a dream that his lonely heart had created to stitch the wounds that Ginger left. someone kind and warm, that held his daughter like she was yours, and wore his clothes as if to exclaim that you were his. that was the beauty of it, you were his.

leaning against the doorframe, he stares at you. even in the dim room, lit only by the nightlight near Amy’s crib, you still somehow managed to shine so brightly it nearly hurt his eyes. an angel’s glow, he had to guess, for he had never seen it before, and knew he’d never see it again.

his mind, even though it shouldn’t, wanders again to the woman on the couch. she was a stranger to him, in a way. he hadn’t known her before he up and married her; maybe that was wrong?

no, because he did have one thing to show for it. one shred of happiness that Ginger had given him, and she was safe in your arms. in the arms of the woman that should’ve been her mother, if only he had held out a little while longer, if only he hadn’t married Ginger, perhaps things would be different now. you’d be wearing a wedding band, and pregnant with your second child, and Sam would have the only thing he’d ever really wanted: a family.

somehow, envisioning you carrying his child was much more tender than when Ginger was pregnant with Amy. he wanted to rest his palm against your belly, and feel his kid kick, yearned to read all of those silly pregnancy books with you and practice breathing exercises. Sam wanted to lie awake at night with you and talk for hours about what the new baby should be named, and he wanted to hear its heartbeat in sync with yours, the woman he really loved.

you spin around, looking up at him with an apologetic pout. “It’s okay, you should go back to sleep. She’s almost-“ Amy’s little hands reach for her father, and he’s quick to approach the two of you. “Uh oh! Who’s that, huh?” you whisper, the smile on your lips both beautiful and contagious to him; he takes a few more moments to admire it. “Is that daddy?”

Sam chuckles, petting Amy’s head to push her sparse bangs back from her forehead before kissing it. “Hey beautiful Princess. Did you miss daddy today?”

Amy exclaims with a babble and a frantic wave of her hands. she was still young, and though you’ve been working on teaching her short words, she was still much too expressive to use them. “That means yes,” you giggle, bouncing her playfully.

“Mhm, and what about you, baby?” Sam’s palm seeks the small of your back, pressing against it to urge your body closer to him, to which you give in, shifting to hold Amy with one arm, and press your free hand against his broad chest. your digits dip into the robe to caress the patch of dark hair found there. “Did you miss daddy?”

giggling once more, your eyelashes fan his cheeks as you lean closer and bat them- god, you were so breathtaking, more precious than any diamond in the world, that his heart skips a beat every time his eyes meet yours. “Hmm…” you hum, your hand fleeing to cup the nape of his neck and drag him in for a loving kiss.

the way your tiers fit against his almost seems like fate, as if they were made for each other. two pieces of the same puzzle.

they say that when you kiss your soulmate, you see fireworks. kissing you was so much different for Sam, who swore that, when his mouth was caressed by yours, he could see the entire galaxy, every star in the sky and beyond. he felt as though he owned them all- king of the universe, because his whole universe was right here. it was you.

breaking the kiss, his couplet moves against yours, umber hues searching the art canvas that was your countenance. “Is that a yes, too?” he taunts, digits against your back digging into the stiff fabric of his shirt to keep you close to him.

there was a voice in the back of his head in this moment, telling him that he was right where he needed to be. the only thing left to do was see a band on your finger, but such a thing would come in time.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, pupils dilated as shadows dance across your features. Amy was content against your chest, but she fiddles with the sleeve of his robe; she must like the softness of the fabric. “You might just have to kiss me again and find out, Ace.”

“I’d kiss you every day for a lifetime and more.” he confesses, pecking your lips. “Just ask me to.”

“Kiss me every day for a lifetime, Sam Rothstein.”

[sepublic]

Through the Looking Glass Ruins!!!!!

         …

         SO! Onto other things first…

         WRATH IS BRAXAS’ FATHER!??!!? HOLY SHIT, Wrath is a canonical dad, I’d always expressed my… OH MY GOD WRATH IS DAD! And of BRAXAS, that sweetie… How is Braxas such a sweetie with a father like HIM, also-

         Wrath was in casual wear? Either he has a day off, or he got fired by Belos/Kikimora after drawing Luz a map to Eda in Young Blood, Old Souls! Either way this guy has a sudden new level of NUANCE that I am reeling from, and yes I checked, that really is Wrath according to the credits! Dang this puts everything in a WHOLE new light…!

         AMITY HAIR OHMIGOD IT LOOKS SO ADORABLE SHE’S SELF-ACTUALIZING I AM FUCKING SCREAMING HOLY SHIT OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD, it’s PINK and not green… They acknowledged it, Emira did! And they CHANGED IT I AM LOSING MY FUCKING MIND OVER THIS-

         She looks so BEAUTIFUL and I love the kind of foreshadowing with the bookends of our first shot of Amity having her hair down, and now it’s changed! And she looks adorable and EMIRA AND EDRIC BEING GREAT SIBLINGS I LOVE IT SO MUCH! This… THIS is everything I wanted! I was resigned to not much of them but HELL YEAH they’re being good siblings and we get a look at their rooms, we see them doing MAKEOVERS together this is everything from my favorite fanon content and MORE,

         Also Edric has a date?! Emira says ‘their’ mom… Unless the Golden Guard has a mom, DARN! Not gonna lie, I half-expected a big twist at the end that Edric was dating the Golden Guard, who was doing some sort of reconnaissance as his unrecognized normal self and/or screwing around with the Blights even further, but in a GENUINE sense… But then who knows Kikimora could be posing as GG’s ‘mom’, this is a stretch anyhow-

         JUST HELL YEAH Blight Twins! Blight Twins being sweet and mischievous and supportive of each other, Blight SIBLINGS being siblings, Emira being an older sister and giving advice! And AMITY, Amity mentioning how much Luz has changed stuff, I love that they acknowledge it openly how her life has completely shifted, and now… NOW…!

         No necklace! Red leggings! PINK HAIR?! Is this why Amity in the intro hasn’t been updated yet… She was getting TWO updates, so the animators decided to only animate a change after this final update?!

         King and Gus are also friends it seems, and they even recorded some fun together! I’m surprised at how much Bria and the others mock Gus’ illusion skills… Obviously Belos is kinda terrible but like; I don’t think he’d set aside an entire subset of magic into Illusions without reason! Also that nightmare trip… I LOVE IT, I love Gus applying the creativity of illusions in their ability to completely warp and distort someone’s sense of reality! And I called that dragon-thing being an illusion!

         A graveyard… I wonder if the Gallderstones (is that how it’s spelled) have any relevance or if they’re just neat? I hope Mattholomule and Gus help hide the Looking Glass Graveyard… Damn, that’s another Death reference with Gus, huh! Is it culminating in his respect for the dead, or will it continue further with Gus being a necromancer, or an Oracle who can commune with the deceased, and he has their respect as someone who treats them properly?!

         Also not to get dark but… What if all those Illusionists are dead because of Belos? I’m JUST SAYING…! And not gonna lie, every time someone insulted Illusions, I kept imagining the Illusion Head just suddenly waking up and feeling like there’s a disturbance in the force, as well as a weird compulsion to beat up some Glandus kids. It’d be even funnier if he had beef with the Construction, Plant, and Abomination Heads as well!

         Speaking of which, more confirmation on Construction Magic being related to earth! Glad to see Bria give us a look into that, which furthers my idea of Belos using construction magic… Also dang, Bria and the Glandus Kids really are the parallels/foils to the Detention kids! You’ve got the short ‘nice’ girl, the tall lanky kid, the furry… But the Glandus Kids start off looking nice and cool, but turn out to be rather nasty!

         Meanwhile the Detention Kids seem like bad news and delinquents, but no! They’re just demonized and actually very kind and chill! The Detention Kids are looked down upon, the Glandus Kids are appraised… The Detention Kids are dual-track, the Glandus Kids are singular; Glandus Kids from, well, GLANDUS, Detention Kids from Hexside… One’s ‘mischief’ is actually very neat and cool, the other’s is literal grave robbing.

         I guess that’s how the bleeding statues got past the censors- It’s technically just an illusion! Also more insight into how Glandus works with its Survival of the Fittest mentality, I wonder if we’ll get confirmation on which coven heads came from there, how that might influence them as adults…

         What is Glandus like, is it more whole-heartedly accepting of Belos’ rule, hence its harsh ideals? Was it made after Hexside? Does Bump hate it for being so cruel like that, or is it just school bias? And dang poor Mattholomule, I always had a feeling he sort of felt and knew that he wasn’t much, so he accepted and compensated by deliberately doing whatever he can for power…

         They confirmed he’s from Glandus, and I appreciate this new look at him! This new leaf turned… Hot take but he’s honestly not as bad as Boscha, his stint with Gus was a one-time thing that Gus was able to live with! And that seems pretty good to set them up as friends! Speaking of Boscha, Willow was injured by pixies? And the last time we heard of pixies, they belonged to Boscha and caused the school to get shut down… Did BOSCHA DO THIS I SWEAR SHE IS DEAD TO ME-

         (Also she’s mentioned in the credits for this episode but I don’t remember hearing her? I might’ve gotten distracted with so much other things.)

         Gus! I like the insight into his relationship with Illusions, and I appreciate how he’s considering other forms of magic… But this hesitation might just serve to reaffirm his believe in Illusions, which is okay! It’s all about choice… And yeah, it seems Gus also has a case of impostor syndrome like King, no wonder they get along so well! I love the glimpses into Gus’ house and the confirmation that he has a library card, no Perry though alas…!

         I appreciate how Gus feels overlooked, like he has no real substance, which is how his Illusions reflect a desire to draw attention, but also the idea that there’s nothing real beneath them… Again, very much like King! And Gus, he’s not a powerhouse like the rest, he’s SKILLED and smart, but strength isn’t his forte, it’s not brute force he operates on, but cleverness! Trickery, I like it…! It’s a nice callback to his last A-plot episode, SVSF, where instead of fighting Mattholomule physically, Gus’ solution is to think outside the box and pull the alarm!

         You go kid, not relying on brute strength but showing that some clever tricks and thinking are just as valid! Kinda wonder if this episode is lowkey a discussion on masculinity for young boys, especially with Gus growing older with puberty, though the latter is mostly because his actual VA grew… But maybe the writers rolled with that and incorporated it, or it’s just a very neat coincidence! Also, it is me or did Mattholomule’s voice change? And the gag that Gavin’s dad looks identical to him, even moreso because he’s NOT supposed to have a moustache… That’s great!

         Malphas! Love this reference to a classic demon, I wasn’t sure if Malphas was the librarian with glasses whom I’ve always headcanoned as a father figure to Amity… But maybe it’s actually this bird dude! He seems adept in Bard magic, and I love the reveal of his true crow appearance… Guess those theorists were right that the one-eyed figure is from the Forbidden Stacks! Also Malphas NOT COOL with Amity, but I’m glad Luz changed his mind, and I wonder how that adventure looked…

         Which- DAMN, the RSD with Luz! She looks so UTTERLY BROKEN when Amity mentions doing stupid things, and she didn’t mean it like that, but Luz just looks so completely shattered and you can tell she wants to cry but instead she bottles it up and tries to take it in stride, and that plays into her trying to overcompensate for her mistakes AGAIN… SOMEONE GET IT TO HER HEAD that she doesn’t need to! I’m scared for Luz, and I was SO scared this episode would end on a bad note…

         BUT DOAHLDdFAEONDKFHN LUMITY KISS LUMITY KISS! ONE-SIDED BUT THEY FINALLY FUCKING KNOW AND AMITY IS LIKE WHAAAAT AND I WAS WAITING FOR IT AND I COULD FEEL IT HAPPEN AND GAY KISS! GAY KISS ON-SCREEN!!! And the way Luz just FLOPS to the ground on her knees AAHJJFFKHGGK and no Alador nor Odalia to ruin this, UTTERLY PERFECT and the twins WATCHING OOOHHHHGGGG YYYEEAAAAHHH-

         This is EVERYTHING I ever wanted!

         What an AMAZING episode with wonderful characer beats and reveals! Again, Amity’s growth as a character, that brief insight into how Luz as a person is very chaotic and sometimes frustrating for Amity and forces her to reevaluate, but ultimately it’s good and Luz DOES try her best, and Amity clearly wanted to make things up for Luz and apologize, they’re BOTH doing things, just the little moments!

         Also, Alex Lawther voices Philip Wittebane! He has long hair and a vaguely british accent, he’s… He’s Belos isn’t he? And they got a new VA because having him voiced by Matthew Rhys would be really spoiler-y right? He’s got the long hair and he’s a nerd… And with how he talks of finding a way back home, maybe Belos really DOES just want to return home, after all? He talks of making a way back home…

         And we see a glimpse of the Portal, so it might’ve brought him there? Or did Philip succeed in making it, and that was his blueprint designs? Did he arrive by Titan’s Blood? What happened to the portal if it brought him there, or if he made it? Why the scar, why near Eda’s house, partially buried?

         Was it lost before he could finish his work, and Philip got side-tracked into something else… Perhaps going on a crusade, on behalf of a curse/demon that possessed him? A demon that killed King’s father…? Was the portal broken and he had to discard it, but then it naturally healed- Or did it just need to recharge, maybe Philip DID make it back home, WHAT IS THE ANSWER?! Is there some sort of doppelganger for Philip, is BELOS his doppelganger?! What is THIS WHAT-

         WHAT AN EPISODE!

[everwitch-magiks]

RWRB Fics Roundup

Hey y’all! Once upon a time I had the ambition to post links on here to all the fics and new chapters that I publish on AO3, and I think it’s safe to say that I’ve been an absolute disaster at that over the summer. In my defense I’ve just had so much to write, but that’s not much of a defense seeing as it doesn’t take ages to chuck a link on here. Anyhow. Bottom line is, I’ve severely neglected it, and it’s gotten to a point where I’m just gonna make a post with links to everything I’ve written since June (ish) for you to peruse, so you can see if there’s one that you didn’t catch wind of that catches your eye now. Neat, huh?

So, without further ado, the links! The fics! Let’s go.

Completed works

Love At First Bark General Audiences, AU, tooth-rotting fluff. 3K. “I still don’t know your name, do I?” Henry watches Alex where he’s crouched down in front of David and gently scratching David below his chin. David absolutely loves Alex. Henry can relate. “It’s David,” Henry supplies. “Cool,” Alex says. “And what’s the dog’s name?” Henry blinks at him. “... David?” “What?” Alex exclaims. He looks from David to Henry and then back at David again. “Wow, okay, that is a choice.” Henry wants to sink through the earth and never come back up again.

Shameless Explicit, AU, Henry has a reputation. 14K. Henry has a lot of sex. A lot. He's young and in college and there is no shortage of men to fall in bed with. What better time to explore what he likes and what he fucking loves, as well as to catalogue how to make his many, many partners feel as good as possible? It’s all part of the learning experience. And Henry is a very dedicated student.

Alex has been inescapably aware of Henry ever since that one time they kissed. You don’t just stop being aware of the guy who basically caused your sexuality. So when Henry propositions Alex at a lame frat party, Alex accepts eagerly. Maybe this is exactly what he needs. Maybe, if he can just have Henry once, he’ll have a better chance of finally getting over his embarrassing fixation with Henry. It's worth a try.

When The Time Is Right Part four of my sex club series. Explicit, AU, dom Henry and sub Alex. 16K. “Maybe I could challenge you more,” Henry suggests, his eyes carefully trained on Alex. “And hold you accountable for longer. How does that sound?” “That sounds fucking amazing,” Alex tells him, the words coming out in a rush. “Yes. That. Please.” “Alright, then.” Henry offers him a sly grin. “Alex, love. You just gave me a wonderful idea.” It’s really something, how quickly Alex’s heartbeat picks up. “Oh? Do tell.” Henry’s grin widens. He looks alarmingly pleased with himself. “How would you feel about a staycation?”

When Alex asks Henry for something a little more intense in the bedroom, they end up taking more than just their sex life to the next level.

Out For A Bite Explicit, AU, suspense and supernatural elements. 3K. Henry's eyes fly up, zeroing in on the reflection in the mirror. There, behind him. The man from the bar. He looks different in the fluorescent bathroom lights. Sharper. There’s a look in his eyes that has Henry shivering all over again. It's greedy. Hungry.

He’s staring right at Henry.

Henry's throat feels dry. His heart beats madly. He's heard whispers of this place, and more importantly of its patrons. He thinks he knows what this man is.

ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with) Explicit, AU, Alex and Henry in DIY Punk & mainstream pop punk, respectively. 34K. Teenage music sensation Kensington have taken the world by storm. With their cool leather jackets and wickedly distorted guitars, they're a pop duo that packs a punch. Or at least they sound like one—their lyrics unfortunately lack any semblance of depth. Alex can't fucking stand Kensington. But thankfully, he doesn’t have to. He’s not likely to cross paths with those British pop losers during his final semester of high school in Texas. And even if he did, he'd never let some stupidly attractive blonde take his focus away from the goal that Alex has worked towards for years: winning the Austin Band Slam with his latino punk trio.

But when Henry comes crashing into Alex's life, with his intriguing piano pieces and piercing blue eyes and slow, purposeful kisses that make Alex burn with want, Alex finds that he might need to reevaluate his stance on both pop losers and distractions. Or maybe not. Maybe he’s better off keeping Henry at arm's length, since it's so painfully evident that Henry will never love him back.

Never Tell Me The Odds Teen and Up Audiences, canon verse, an outside perspective on First Prince as well as a story about a certain Star Wars mural. 2K. "Wait!" Alex yells up to the driver. "Stop! Stop the car!" Up close, it's beautiful. Two stories tall. He can’t imagine how somebody was able to put together something like this so fast.

Ash had never imagined that they'd get the chance to actually meet Alex Claremont-Diaz, and much less get the chance to tell Alex about how that very special Star Wars mural came to be. Although of course, Ash never would have met Alex if it hadn’t been for Farida. Farida and her bold courage, and her warm compassion, and her sometimes infuriating (but always endearing) stubbornness.

yrs. faithfully (with nowhere to go) Explicit, canon verse, a lazy morning in bed leads to something more. 3K. When Alex and Henry wake up together the day before their anniversary, they're genuinely planning on getting out of bed and spending the day as productive members or society. Truly, their intentions are honorable. But a trip down memory lane gets them reminiscing about that night exactly one year ago, when Alex had come running through the rain to deliver some choice words about obtuse fucking assholes.

As Alex and Henry start to relive the memory, they quickly realize that they both remember it intimately. So intimately that they might be able to pull off something of a do-over.

Gadgets and Gizmos A-Plenty A companion piece to dearest Hattie’s soulmate fic. Mature, AU, a look into Henry buying sex toys. Yes. That’s the fic. 2K. There’s a bunch of regulars that Amir knows by name (and, unavoidably, by kinks), but most often Playtime gets one-time visitors. Which makes sense, really. A lot of people don’t seem to want to step into the same adult toy shop twice. So Amir is always a little extra curious when there’s a repeat customer, especially one who is this attractive. And, interestingly, one who’s come back so soon.

The tall, classically handsome man with blond hair and blue eyes left Playtime no less than five hours ago after having purchased a medium-sized, fairly standard vibrator well suited for anal play. And now he’s back. Because apparently, he’s found he needed another vibrator.

If Sex Was A Sport We’d Be Winning Mature, AU, a classic Olympics hookup. 3K. It's remarkable, truly, that Alex didn't even want to be here. He only came all the way to Ariake because June was determined to watch a bunch of prissy ponies strut around to music. Still, perhaps the true Olympic experience lies in the wide variety of disciplines. Or, perhaps, it has something to do with chatting up a pretty blond behind the stables and getting him to show you the inside of an Olympic tack room. As Alex quickly takes to Henry’s sweet smiles and easy confidence, he realizes that just a few stolen moments with this man might turn into his most cherished memory from the Tokyo Olympics.

Alex knows better than to get attached, though. He and Henry live an ocean apart. There’s no way this quick fumble in the stable equivalent of a supply closet could ever lead to anything more. Right?

Talk Dirty To Me Explicit, AU, dom Henry and sub Alex. 9K. Henry studies Nora’s expression for a moment. There’s something about her favourable account of this guy she claims not to want to sleep with again that doesn’t add up. "But you're still not interested in taking him on?"

"He wants more than I'm willing to offer," Nora says frankly. Henry’s always liked this about her—how she doesn’t skirt around the hard facts. It's a part of what makes her so good at dominating. "But you know what? For you, he'd be kind of perfect."

Henry has been active in the local BDSM scene for years and there’s no shortage of men who’d love nothing more than to find themselves at his mercy. But Henry is on a break. He’s not looking for a new partner, but he’s also not expecting to become so intrigued by the man that Nora insists he should meet. Alex is a newcomer on the scene who doesn’t yet know exactly what he wants, much less with who. There’s no way that he could turn out to be exactly who Henry needs. Right?

Date night (please toy with me) Explicit, canon verse, a night out leads to some fun with a toy. 4K. This… this is new. They’ve talked about trying this, about what it’d be like to conceal some of their intimacy in plain sight, about what it would feel like to try and reclaim what is most private to them by flaunting it without anyone even knowing, by daring to take risks again. They’ve agreed that they’d still need to be careful, but they’ve also agreed that it would be interesting. That it would be fun.

And apparently, Henry thinks tonight is the night for it. “Do you trust me, love?”

“Yeah.” Alex swallows. He picks up the box, studying it for a moment. “Do you want… what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to go to the bathroom,” Henry says evenly, “You’ll find everything you need in the box. Then I want you to come back and sit down. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Alex taps the box, grinning in Henry’s direction. “I expect we’ll be leaving soon?”

Henry smiles slyly. “If you’re good, yes.”

Ongoing works

Hashtag Soulmates Mature, AU, Henry writes fanfiction. 23K and 7 chapters so far. Alex is perfect and handsome, the golden boy, everybody’s secret crush. So there is absolutely no way that he is the reader who screeches in caps lock every time that Henry posts as much as a drabble. There’s no way. Except Alex just closed his browser fast as fucking lightning, but not before Henry had gotten a good glimpse of the page Alex had open: AO3. ‘Don't Stop Me Now’, Henry’s current wip. The one that Henry literally just updated.

Sweet Jesus. Could it really be?

That... is all! It’s been a productive summer. I’m very excited to continue writing Hashtag Soulmates, and also to start working on a few upcoming First Prince fics that I’m planning on writing. Stay tuned for fics! ♡

[sobdasha]

been thinking about the really weird dynamics of the Honda family

and the ways they parallel with the Souma family.

Tohru's relationship with Grandpa Honda has always been really inscrutable to me. It seems like Kyouko liked him quite a lot, and the feeling was mutual, so their relationship ought to be close, right? But despite relying on Grandpa around the time of Katsuya's funeral, I get the impression that Kyouko and Grandpa aren't very close after that? He takes Tohru in after Kyouko's funeral, but doesn't provide a place for her to stay during the renovations, and they don't seem to keep in touch.

I figured this was for the convenience of the plot. If Tohru was close with her grandpa, then she wouldn't have no family, no one left, after her mom died. If Tohru had somewhere else to go, it wouldn't be so vital that she be allowed to keep living in the Souma house.

I've been thinking about Shiki, though, and about Akito and Shigure as parents within the Souma estate, and I'm wondering now if this wasn't actually a parallel playing out in brilliant Takaya fashion.

Starting with a recap, because a summary of info is always useful to me:

Kyouko grows up in a family that is very much about Keeping Up Appearances and Knowing Your Place. Her dad is verbally and emotionally abusive and isn't above slapping people either. Her mother isn't affectionate and doesn't protect her, probably because she's primarily concerned with protecting herself from the fallout when anything sets off her abusive husband. Kyouko has never had her emotional needs met and she's never been socialized to see others as real people with real feelings. Before even 7th grade she's become part of the gang scene in a cry for help and attention, and because these are the only people she can kind of understand. Her father has told her she's kicked out of the house at least once prior before he finally makes good on it and disinherits her at the end of 9th grade.

Katsuya and his younger sister grow up in a family that is also very much about Traditional Values and Keeping Up Appearances. Grandpa Honda is a teacher, and he puts a big emphasis on Proper Manners (and probably also other things like Good Grades, Fitting In, and Knowing Your Place). He's stern and pressures Katsuya to become a teacher as well. We don't know what Katsuya's mother was like, but I'm assuming she was also not particularly affectionate. It's only after her illness and passing, probably when Katsuya is somewhere around 20, that Grandpa Honda reevaluates his life and what's most important to him.

From a young age, Katsuya flew under the radar by heavily masking--ie, he made a cardboard cutout of what society expected him to be, so Polite, Quiet, Respectable, Studying To Become A Teacher, while underneath it all being filled with apathy, resentment, and loneliness. His moral compass is deeply skewed--see his teasing of people, his attitude of looking down on people, his bragging admittance to using his father's influence to get away with things, his creepy expressions that are identical to those of The Root Of All Evil (ie, Shigure). He has no real interpersonal relationships--family, friend, or romantic. He's a 23 year old TA who is fixated on and marries a 15 year old girl because she's the first person he ever recognized as human--he saw her in the middle of a violent meltdown and it was the first time he was ever really struck by the realization that someone else might feel the same feelings he does.

(Which, in addition to the dubious legality and widely-regarded ickiness, is just downright pathetic. I'm sorry, but it's true. Fruits Basket itself backs me up.)

The first parallel that jumps out at me is between the stories of Kyouko and Katsuya, and Ren and Akira:

Ren is an Outsider. We don't know what her family life was before joining the Souma clan, but based on everything about her I feel it's safe to assume it was also abusive. A large percentage of the Souma family is against the marriage, but Akira is adamant because Ren is the first person he's ever connected with. Similarly, the Honda family (save Grandpa) disapproves of Kyouko and she remains forever an outsider to them.

In Kyouko's case, Katsuya is able to ditch his family and start fresh with Kyouko. Ren, on the other hand, has to live within the toxic Souma family to be with Akira. Both husbands die, leaving a grieving widow and child behind. Kyouko treasures her daughter and finds a new reason to live in Tohru, away from the rest of the Honda family; Ren, already jealous of Akito for getting in the way of her relationship with her husband (and not dealing well with being pulled even further into the Souma family bullshit with all this curse stuff), and trapped within the toxic Souma family with no one on her side, chooses to perpetuate the cycle of abuse.

The thing I've been thinking about most is the parallels between Tohru and the Honda family and Shiki and the Souma family:

As I said before, Tohru's relationship with Grandpa Honda is very strange. It's not just me--Yuki and Kyou make comments to this effect also, I'm pretty sure. But I think I can finally make sense of it now, if I think of it in light of Shiki.

I think there are a couple chapters of FBA out there that I haven't read (the one with Akito, and were there other chapters beyond volume 3?), but Mutsuki implies--and I think we should take this at face value--that Akito and Shigure hope that Shiki will leave the Souma family. They are not kicking their child out. They want this as loving parents, who have done their best to raise their child in a good home in the midst of a very toxic environment. I like to think they will do a good job of explaining this to Shiki, explicitly and clearly. Akito could have walked away from the Souma family, but she chose to stay because she had a hand in perpetuating the toxicity and generational abuse in the Souma family and she is taking responsibility for trying to end the cycle. She has finally stepped up as the head of the family. She could have walked away, but she didn't.

Shiki had no hand in making the Souma family what it is. Shiki is not obligated in any way to put up with that bullshit. Shiki can and should walk away from that toxic environment, go somewhere new, and be happy. He and his parents and all his non-toxic relatives can visit and call each other and still maintain relationships, but in healthier places, as everyone learned to do at the end of Fruits Basket.

This, I believe, is what Grandpa is also doing for Tohru. He's just less explicit and messes it up at first.

I don't know exactly why we don't see more of Grandpa's relationship with Kyouko and Tohru after Katsuya's death. Is it because Tohru, as the narrator, is prioritizing Only Me And My Mom stories? Is it because Kyouko didn't want to be a burden (is that part of where Tohru absorbed it)? Is it because Kyouko couldn't maintain a good relationship with Grandpa with the Honda Family Toxicity in the background?

The Honda family toxicity shows up in full force again when Kyouko dies. Tohru is a riceball that doesn't belong in the Honda family fruits basket. No one, save Grandpa, will take her in.

And then he invites his daughter's family, which he knows is toxic and will abuse Tohru, in to live with the two of them.

I don't know who came up with the idea--if it's Grandpa, that's a bit cold, as he should be caring for Tohru. If it's his daughter ("Dad, you're getting older, you should be living with us so we can take care of you") that does make sense, both as a reasonable social expectation (which dad raised her to adhere to) and as a power move (the Outsider shouldn't be getting so cozy with dad, and dad's inheritance, without supervision). I'm leaning towards the daughter, as I don't think the family combining was intended to get Tohru to leave. I think the remodel, though, was something Grandpa Honda saw as a good opportunity to convince Tohru to leave the Hondas.

I think "I'm having the house remodeled and I'm staying with my daughter, but you weren't invited, I could pull my weight or maybe you could find your own accommodations with a friend?" was intended to give Tohru permission to not feel obligated to the Honda family. I think it was intended to let Tohru find someplace she would actually be happy, a found family living situation where she could flourish. I think Granpda sincerely thought Tohru would move in with Hanajima, instead of into a tent, and realize that she was so much happier and fulfilled there that she never came back to the toxic Honda family and had no regrets.

Grandpa's judgment was a little iffy there but he tried.

I'm realizing that, if everyone moved into Grandpa's house because it was bigger, and it's being remodeled specifically for that purpose...the fact that Tohru is sharing a room with her cousin is very significant. Grandpa was so confident, there is no place for Tohru in that house. Tohru was never supposed to come back after the remodel.

(I don't know that much about houses so it's possible that they just didn't have room; depending on whether that's the uncle or the son, you've got to have 4 or 5 separate bedrooms, which I guess could be a lot. But this is a manga, they aren't strictly constrained to realism, and Takaya makes every damn detail count.)

Tohru isn't supposed to come back after the remodel, but she does. She does, and the family is toxic to her, and Grandpa tells her more overtly that she is not obligated to live here out of familial loyalty. If there's somewhere else Tohru is happier, even if it's a really unconventional living situation, she should feel welcome to choose that instead.

Grandpa's a parallel to Akito here. He's been becoming aware, since his wife died, that his priorities were all wrong. That he raised his children wrong. That Katsuya appeared to have no real emotions and had never connected with anyone outside of Kyouko and their daughter. (Maybe he learned to make work friends?? But I doubt it.) That his daughter is judgmental and cares more about the appearance of being proper than about not being rude.

Don't think poorly of him, Grandpa says. Deep down, they're just evil people. But Grandpa recognizes that he had a hand in creating those evil people. And instead of being like Machi's mom, who goes "well maybe I fucked up" and then throws her out of the family, Grandpa takes responsibility for the family he made. He recognizes that he raised his kids in a way that caused them to be shallow and rude and to think of people as means to an end, and he also recognizes that it would be shitty to reject his kids for turning out exactly as he raised them. He has to live with them (and his choices), he says, but Tohru doesn't.

Looking at it like that, I respect Grandpa Honda more. He seemed a bit wishy-washy before--useful for some plot and character development points, but wishy-washy all the same. But it's a tough decision, and having to prioritize people is always shitty. Grandpa not rejecting his daughter means sacrificing a stable home for Tohru. Akito staying as the head of the Souma family so she can ensure the freedom of the former Zodiac means that her child will be subjected to the same generational abuse, no matter how loving and supportive of a home life she and Shigure provide.

But they're both trying to do a right thing in a crappy situation.

And Tohru, like so many of the former Zodiac, does find happiness and fulfillment in the new family she's able to make for herself. She learns to make her world bigger, and she learns that leaving doesn't have to be the same as cutting ties. And so I'm very optimistic that Shiki will find the same.

[swan-of-sunrise]

Civil War (Chapter Six)

Summary: Bucky’s suspicious escape from the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre and the fallout surrounding it makes (Y/N) reevaluate her opinion of the Accords.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Last week’s chapter was really angsty and it kinda took a toll on me so here’s a sort of short filler chapter with slightly less angst! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Six (Previous Chapter)

While she couldn’t claim to be a spy or secret agent, (Y/N) had picked up a thing or two from hanging around so many of them over the past couple of years; she knew that Bucky would eventually need an exit once he was finished tearing through everyone in the building, and it was a safe bet to assume that the skilled assassin would choose to fly himself out of there instead of travel on foot at the risk of being apprehended. She was quick to locate the building’s stairwell, hurrying up the steps as the emergency lights and alarms continued to blare; when she reached the top floor, she flung open the door and stepped out into the dark and deserted hallway.

“God, I hope this thing works…” Mumbling under her breath, (Y/N) fiddled with the dials of the walkie talkie until she could hear the indistinct chatter of voices, only letting out a sigh of relief when she finally heard the one she needed to speak to. “Agent Ross, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I need backup on the-”

“(Y/L/N), what the hell are you doing?!”

“Your job, it would seem! I’m on the top floor and have reason to believe that-!”

Just then, a metallic hand came out of nowhere and ripped the walkie talkie from her hands, crushing it to pieces before tossing it aside. (Y/N) acted on instinct, rolling underneath Bucky’s outstretched arm and pulling a stun disc out of her pocket; landing upright, she chucked the stun disc at his metallic arm and took advantage of the assassin’s distraction to sweep his legs out from underneath him with one of her own.

“Your name is James Buchanan Barnes, and you were a Sergeant in the U.S. Army during World War II!” She shouted, keenly aware that the distraction would only last a few more seconds. “You were Steve Rogers’ best friend and a Howling Commando!” Hastily backing out of the way, she watched with widened eyes as he ripped the electrified stun disc off his arm and leapt to his feet. “Bucky, I don’t believe that you bombed the U.N. but you need to stop and remember who you are!”

Bucky’s face was blank and devoid of any emotion, a far cry from the frightened man in the containment cell. He stalked towards her and while she had just enough time to duck the first punch he threw her way, she couldn’t dodge the second; the force of his fist’s impact on her jaw sent her flying back and crashing to the ground, her wrist screaming in protest as she tried and failed to break her fall. While he strode down the hallway to where she was sprawled on the floor, she hurriedly ripped all the stun discs out of her pocket and began throwing them as she crawled backwards. He avoided each and every stun disc she threw, but it bought her enough time to pick herself up off the ground and side-step his next attack; before she could land a kick or punch, though, his metal hand shot out and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her easily into the air and slamming her hard against the wall.

(Y/N)’s hands came up to uselessly clutch at the metal fingers that were digging into her skin and her legs kicked out in desperation as she struggled for air; just as her vision was beginning to darken her eyes focused on the small tear in the sleeve of his shirt and the corner of a red star it barely revealed, and in desperation she cried out, “Sol…Soldat!”

The assassin froze, and (Y/N) watched as his hardened expression shifted into confusion. His metallic hand quickly loosened and she instantly crumpled to the floor, coughing and gasping for air, unable to move or even defend herself. Bucky’s heavy footsteps faded away and with a wheezing breath, she lifted her head in time to see Steve burst through the same stairwell door she’d come through moments before.

“(Y/N)!?” He hurried to her side and dropped down, his grease-smudged face filled with pure panic as he tugged her into his arms. “Oh God, you’re bleeding…!”

Steve’s free hand came up to touch her scratched jaw but she grabbed his wrist to halt his movement, ignoring how his brow furrowed in confusion as she whispered, “G-go, Steve…Bucky’s heading for…for the helipad…”

He firmly shook his head, blue eyes already set in determination. “No, baby, I’m not leaving you.”

“Bucky needs you!” (Y/N) insisted, suppressing her wince of pain as she stared up at him with a fiery resolve; sensing the conflict within the super-soldier, she released his wrist and gently rested her hand against his cheek with a sad smile. “Go.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Steve nodded and carefully eased her back onto the ground, giving her one final look before running down the hallway after the assassin; right before he turned the corner, she closed her eyes, unwilling to watch as the love of her life chased after the deadly assassin by himself.

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

For the second time in two days, (Y/N) quietly sat and allowed herself to be patched up by a kindly paramedic. Not only did she still have a ruptured eardrum, she also had a large laceration along her jaw that required five stitches, a sprained wrist that was secured in a sturdy brace and a smattering of darkening finger-shaped bruises around her neck. Others weren’t as lucky as you were, she reminded herself, sadness washing over her as she thought of all the critically injured and dead CIA agents who’d also encountered the dangerous Winter Soldier during his rampage.

Once the paramedics finished treating her wounds, she made her way back to the control room and was immediately met by a sympathetic Natasha. “Here, I got you some tea with honey; it’ll help your throat feel better.” The spy handed her a warm to-go cup before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leading her into the glass-walled conference room, where Tony was already seated and resting his bruised head in his hand. “Secretary Ross’s gonna be here in a few minutes, hot-shot, so please try to be on your best behavior no matter what he says to rile you up.”

(Y/N) merely nodded and took a sip of her tea, wincing in pain as she swallowed. The injuries to her throat didn’t stop her from speaking but her own conscious did; she was beginning to realize that no matter what she could say or do to convince them that Bucky was innocent, they’d never listen and even if they did, there was nothing they could do about it under the Sokovia Accords. So, she made the decision to bide her time and wait until the right moment to bring up her theory.

The three of them sat together in weary silence, the turmoil of the past two days seeming to catch up to them, until Secretary Ross barged into the conference room with his trademark sneer on his face. “You two wanna fill me in on what happened and why a civilian’s still sitting in the middle of a covert CIA control room?”

As if sensing (Y/N)’s simmering irritation, Natasha stood and moved to lean against the back of her chair, placing a calming hand on her shoulder as she replied, “Barnes escaped custody with the aid of the U.N. psychiatrist sent to evaluate him; they knocked out the power grid to the city and used it as a distraction, and (Y/N) here was already in the building for questioning. She’s one of the many who tried and failed to stop Barnes from leaving the building.”

“After taking (Y/L/N) out of commission, Barnes tried leaving in a chopper but ended up crashing it on the helipad; he, Rogers and Wilson are all missing in action.” Tony glanced over at (Y/N) before returning his gaze to the Secretary of State. “That’s all we’ve got.”

“I don’t suppose you have any idea where they are?”

“We will, GSG-9’s got the borders covered, and Recon’s flying 24/7. They’ll get a hit; we’ll handle it.”

Secretary Ross scoffed at the billionaire. “You don’t get it, Stark, it’s not yours to handle. It’s clear you can’t be objective, so I’m putting Special Ops on this.”

The spy’s hand on her shoulder flexed. “What happens when the shooting starts? What, do you kill Steve Rogers?”

“If we’re provoked,” (Y/N)’s eyes widened in horror and in her shock, she almost missed what Ross said next. “Barnes would’ve been eliminated in Romania if it wasn’t for Rogers; there are dead people who would be alive now. Feel free to check my math.”

Tony’s eyes flicked over to meet theirs, an uncomfortable look filling his gaze as he turned back to Ross. “All due respect, you’re not going to solve this with boys and bullets, Ross. You gotta let us bring them in.”

“How would that end any differently from the last time?” The Secretary of State demanded.

The billionaire’s expression hardened at Ross’ silent implications. “Because this time, I won’t be wearing loafers and a silk shirt. Seventy-two hours, guaranteed.”

“Thirty-six hours,” Ross corrected, giving them all a pointed look before turning and walking out of the conference room, calling out over his shoulder, “Barnes…Rogers…Wilson…”

“Thank you, sir!” The glass door closed and Tony slumped in his seat with an exhausted sigh as he clutched his left arm. “My left arm is numb, is that normal?”

Moving around the table, Natasha patted the billionaire on his shoulder. “You all right?”

The two Avengers continued to talk in low tones but (Y/N) couldn’t focus on what they were saying; all she could think of were Secretary Ross’ cold-blooded words and the way he’d said them without so much as a hint of remorse. What horrified her more, though, was the fact that Tony and Natasha didn’t appear to be bothered by the threat against the lives of their former teammates. This is all wrong, she thought as her vision began to blur with unshed tears, her heart sinking into her stomach while she realized that Steve’s worst fears about the Accords were materializing right before her very eyes; blinking away her tears, she looked down at her now-bare ring finger and the longer she stared, the more her anger with the two Avengers grew.

“…head downstairs to talk to T’Challa. I’ll bring (Y/N) with me, since he seems to tolerate her more than the rest of us.”

“Before you do, though, she’s gonna need to sign the Accords; I don’t want Ross looking for any excuses to arrest her so we need to do this by the books.” She looked back up as Tony and Natasha turned to her, the billionaire’s brow raised in expectation while he continued. “That okay with you, Austen?”

(Y/N) was silent for a long moment and when she finally spoke, it was with a forced calmness and a clenched jaw. “Did I ever tell you two what my new novel Bring A Folding Chair is about? It chronicles the rise and fall of second-wave feminism in America as told through the eyes of a young investigative journalist.” Getting up from her seat, she crossed her arms over her chest and began pacing. “I focus on the successes of the movement while also highlighting its failures and shortcomings, because even the most well-intended things can inadvertently end up hurting others.” (Y/N) shook her head in agitation and glanced over at the two confused Avengers. “When it came to the Accords, I knew from the moment Secretary Ross told us about them that they were wrong, but I turned a willful blind eye to the truth because I was selfish and only cared about saving my relationship with Steve. But now…now my eyes are wide open.”

“(Y/N), take it easy-”

“Do not tell me to take it easy when you just sat there and listened to Ross practically order a hit on three people – two of which are your friends – who haven’t been legally convicted of any wrongdoing!” She yelled as her sore throat ached in protest but she ignored it, all the frustration and pain that had been building up inside of her finally boiling over. “Steve was right when he said I was too idealistic; I thought the world was made up of enough good people who would keep the Accords from becoming too authoritative but unfortunately, it’s made up of cowards like us who are only looking out for our own self-interests.” Her gaze shifted from Tony’s stunned expression to Natasha, whose face remained neutral but whose eyes conveyed the pain her words had caused; she swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded before continuing. “Well, I don’t know about you two but I can’t do it anymore.”

Without another word, (Y/N) stormed out into the control room and down one of the hallways to Agent Ross’ office, her uninjured hand curled into a fist at her side as she walked; the door of the agent’s office was open and he was in deep conversation with Sharon Carter, who was tapping away on a tablet while they talked. They both looked over at her as she entered the office, and Agent Ross’ brow furrowed in concern while he took in her injuries and stony expression. “Miss (Y/L/N). Agent 13 told me that you got roughed up pretty badly earlier; are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Agent Ross. Am I free to go?” The agent raised his brow, looking more amused that surprised by her demanding question, and she gritted her teeth before continuing. “In the past forty-eight hours I’ve attended a friend’s funeral, was nearly blown up in a suspected terrorist attack, was unjustly interrogated for several continuous hours, broke off my engagement to the love of my life and was nearly killed again by a brainwashed assassin. I’m filthy, I’m injured, I’m exhausted, and I’m just one more incident away from completely losing my shit so can I please leave now?”

Sharon cast her a fleeting glance and took a step forward. “Sir, she’s already given multiple statements to our agents and…well, to be frank, the Joint Terrorism Task Force is already facing scrutiny for not stopping Barnes’ escape. The criticism will only intensify when the news outlets catch wind that we’re holding an injured, world-famous author without probable cause.” Agent Ross considered her words, and Sharon shot her a warning glance before continuing. “I’ll drive her to a nearby hotel and keep an eye on her in case Rogers tries getting into contact; based on the events of the last few hours, though, I’m not so sure that he will.”

“All right,” He finally answered, his expression softening a little as he looked back at her. “But for the time being, Miss (Y/L/N), consider yourself on the no-fly list.”

Nodding in thanks, (Y/N) glanced back at Sharon and the agent gave her a brief smile. “I’ve got a few things to wrap up here so I’ll meet you down in the parking garage in ten.” She reached into her pockets and withdrew her car keys, pressing them into her open palm with another fleeting smile. “My car’s the grey Audi parked by the stairwell.”

(Y/N) walked out of the office and down the hallway but since the mechanics were still working on fixing the elevators after the power-outage, she was forced to take the stairs all the way down to the underground parking garage. She quickly located the agent’s car and unlocked it, climbing into the passenger seat and buckling her seat-belt; now that she was finally alone, she couldn’t stop herself as she lowered her head into her hands and cried, allowing all the pent-up emotions inside of her to finally be set free. In that moment, all she wanted to do was go back to when everything was normal, back before Lagos and her constant fighting with Steve and the goddamn Accords; it wasn’t perfect, of course, but it was a hundred times better than what they were all currently going through. “I’m so sorry, Steve…”

As her sobs finally began to subside, the stairwell door opened and Sharon walked through the doorway; she took a steadying breath and wiped the last of her tears away just as the agent opened the driver-side door and got it. Sharon reached over and opened the glove-box to reveal a package of tissues, flashing her a brief and sympathetic smile as she pulled one out and blew her nose. “I tend to start feeling better after I’ve had a good cry. How ‘bout you?”

“Not really, I still feel like shit except now my eyes itch and my nose is running,” (Y/N) half-heartedly quipped, dabbing at the corners of her eyes and sighing. “So, you know any good hotels around here?”

“The Kurhotel Strӧszek’s nice and it’s not too far from here, so that’ll make Agent Ross happy. On our way, we’ll stop at a pharmacy and pick you up some first aid sup-” The ringing of Sharon’s cell phone interrupted her words and she was quick to answer it. “Agent 13 here…Steve?” (Y/N) instantly perked up and with a brief gesture for her to stay quiet, the agent switched to speakerphone. “Okay, I’m alone. What’s up?”

“We’ve figured out what’s going on,” Steve’s voice answered through the phone’s speaker and (Y/N) bit her lip to keep from making a sound at the comforting timbre. “The doctor framed Bucky for the U.N. bombing in order to find out where Hydra kept him. They created five other Winter Soldiers back in the 90’s and had them cryogenically frozen; he’s planning on waking them, says he’s doing it to see an empire fall.”

“So, you three need your gear before you can go after him.”

The super-soldier sighed. “I know that it’s a lot to ask, Sharon-”

“You’re trying to stop a squad of murderous super-soldiers from taking over the world, Rogers; if this is how I can help stop that from happening, then I’m in. I’ll send you a message when I’ve got the gear and we’ll arrange a meeting.”

“Thank you, Sharon, I owe you one. How…how’s (Y/N) doing?”

“She’s okay; lacerated jaw, sprained wrist and a whole lot of bruising, but she’s fine.” Steve breathed a deep sigh of relief that made (Y/N)’s heart warm and the agent gave her a sideways glance before continuing. “You should know that she’s refused to sign the Accords. I’ve been assigned to escort her to a hotel, where she’ll stay until she’s taken off the CIA’s no-fly list and can go back home…”

There was silence over the line and just as she began wondering if they’d somehow been disconnected, Steve quietly spoke, “I’ve already asked you for one favor but can I bother you for another?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“If I write a letter, can you make sure that it gets to (Y/N)? There’s a lot that I need to tell her and since I don’t know what’ll happen where we’re going…well, she deserves answers one way or another.”

Sharon’s eyes flicked between (Y/N)’s saddened expression and the cell phone in her hand as she nodded. “Of course, I’ll pick it up when I hand over your gear. Talk to you later, Rogers.”

Hanging up, the agent tucked the phone into her pocket and quickly started the engine, buckling up and driving at a steady speed through the parking garage and out onto the street; (Y/N) fiddled with the hem of her wrinkled shirt for a thought-filled moment before stating, “You’ve already got a plan.”

“Let’s just say that I’ve been prepared to follow through on a favor like this one for a while now,” Sharon spared her a sideways glance and focused back on the road. “But I won’t say anything else about it on the off-chance the CIA decides to question you somewhere down the line; the last thing I want is for you to be charged with aiding and abetting in the theft of government property.”

(Y/N) glanced down at her bare ring finger and thought back on Steve’s words during his phone call; she was desperate to find out what was in the letter but at the same time, she knew in her heart that she needed to hear whatever it was directly from him. The thought reminded her of their conversation about the problems within their relationship in the London hotel’s bar, the last truly calm moment they’d shared before everything went sideways…

“Whatever it is, we can work through it together. We make a damn good team, after all.”

“Of course we do, sunshine.”

There’s something I have to do before Steve and the others go after those super-soldiers, (Y/N) thought to herself, her shoulders squared in determination as she turned to glance at Sharon beside her and pondered the best way to ask the spy for a third and final favor.

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

Russian Translation: Soldat-Soldier

A/N: Next chapter will have even less angst so yay! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist:  https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4TsJ2TY1F2HDXhEYOfzCjY?si=b1abdaeccc4c4d21

Chapter Seven

Civil War Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien​​​​​ @lahoete​​​​​ @awkward117​ @cminr​​​​​ @natdrunk​​​​​​ @momc95​​​​​ @savedbystyle​​​​​ @miraculouscloud​ @awkwardnesshabitat​​​​​ @marinettepotterandplagg​​​​​ @khuang3​​​​​ @supersouthy​​​​​ @benakenalove​​​​​ @brooke0297​​​​​ @hufflepeople​​​​​ @becausewelie​​​​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​​ @supreme-tantrum​​​​​ @ladydmalfoy​​​​​ @mads-weasley​​​​​ @username23345​​​​​ @crist1216​​​​�� @aesthethickks​​

[theshopkeepofremnant]

I want to talk about a scene...

Okay, I guess this is actually going to be a few scenes, but they’re all related, I promise!

Disclaimer: Yang is my favorite character. In RWBY, obviously. In all media? Honestly, maybe. I love her. To wit, over the course of a single year I vomited up nearly half a million words of fanfiction centered almost entirely around her. Still, I think my take on this isn’t so biased as to be useless.

Let’s start with the scenes that inspired me on this. First, from volume six, chapter 4:

“That bastard!”

Now, leaving aside the fact that every one of these child soldiers have a right to be mad at the body-hopping deity who lied to them in the process of roping them into a suicide mission that won’t even win or truly advance the cause of his impossible war, why is Yang especially mad?

Or in volume six, chapter 13:

“Does that mean he’s been watching us this whole time?”

Again, any of them could be upset here, but Yang seems especially peeved.

Why am I talking about this? Well, I’ve been watching RWBY reactors who are just now catching up, and in most cases I’ve seen the same misinterpretation of what’s going on here. This was somewhat surprising to me, as I avoid reactors that hate Yang (or any of the main cast) and tend to prefer those who have a generally positive outlook on the show. Still, in every case both of these scenes garnered some version of “chill out, Yang.” It was as though everyone saw these scenes and just thought Yang was being a brat, or hotheaded, and they could not be more wrong.

But why this misconception?

My current guess is that they either have forgotten, or never fully understood the end volume 5.

I loved it as much as anyone when Yang told Raven off. I cheered when Raven broke down, because she deserved every bit of that tongue lashing and more. Yang standing up to her train wreck of a mother and showing her what true strength was? *Chef’s kiss* Love it, it was perfect. But if this is all you remember, you didn’t understand the full arc of this character moment. The next minute was one of the most complex moments in the show in terms of development, and there was not a word of dialogue.

Now yes, this shot was visually stunning. That’s enough to distract anyone. And yes, maybe Yang is simply wrung out from a hell of a day, and her mom is the worst, and she was overwhelmed with the weight of volunteering to be a target for an all-powerful, monster-controlling witch. I mean, those things are all true, and valid, but none of them explain why she, specifically, was so angry with Ozpin in the later scenes.

What else is going on here?

We are witnessing a complete loss of innocence.

Yes, Yang insisted she was an adult back in volume 4. And you know, losing an arm in combat while defending the one she had only fully realized she loved was probably quite a move in that direction, but she was still holding on to one childish dream: the fantasy that her mother wasn’t absolute trash. The belief that maybe, just maybe, she had a good reason for leaving.

Look, was it still strategic to hunt down Raven as a shortcut to Ruby? Sure, but that wasn’t why she went there. She went there because the last shred of her inner child demanded it. She needed to know if there was any place in the world for that girl, and at the bandit’s camp she almost put that to rest.

When she confronted Raven at the camp, she was not terribly impressed, and she certainly didn’t like her mother, but there was still a modicum of respect. This was a woman who knew things, important things, who commanded respect from her followers. Her mother wasn’t a good person, but there was still something about her, a mystique. She still saw Raven as out of reach, larger than life, and the childish dream persisted.

Then came the vault.

When Yang realized that her mother had murdered a child for power, everything fell into place. Yes, her mother wielded incredible magic. In a fight, she would steamroll Yang. But as Yang pointed out, being powerful and being strong are not the same thing. In that moment, she saw her mother as no more than a coward, a woman so afraid that she would kill a scared child to protect herself. That realization spurred her on to demand the relic, because she knew that her mother would willingly sacrifice her to protect her own sorry hide. And the worst part? She was right.

Can you imagine what that felt like?

Every child eventually sees that their parents are human. But for many of us, that’s a chance to forgive them their faults and vices. To see that they did their best despite their flaws, and that’s all you can ask. Right? For Yang, it was the realization that her mother was more than willing to throw her own daughter to the wolves if it meant keeping them at bay. She knew it without a doubt, down to her core, and it shattered that last fragment of innocence she had, in the worst way possible.

A loss of innocence is always painful to one degree or another, but this must have been excruciating. Her walk into the vault, her breakdown at the lamp, it spoke volumes. CRWBY deserves all of the awards for that beautiful understatement of a scene.

Then Yang went upstairs and...didn’t tell Qrow about Raven.

Why?

Because once she’d mourned the loss of her inner child, she stopped clinging to the dream she’d held onto and began...well, not forgiving Raven, but understanding. Raven was weak, the knowledge of Salem had broken her. Yang wouldn’t let it break her, and now that she knew what was ahead of her, she would face it in the way her mother could not.

Then Jinn showed her the lie. There was Yang, only just beginning to face years of trauma, slapped in the face with a truth she wasn’t ready for. Yeah, maybe her mom was still a shitty person, but maybe she wasn’t so wrong to run. That maybe, just maybe, if Ozpin had left her alone, she wouldn’t have done the things she did, become the person she was.

And years of barely acknowledged, let alone processed, anger boiled out at the only target available. At the man, the demigod who played with the lives around him and was at least partially responsible for breaking the will of a fragile woman who didn’t ask for any of that madness. At the immortal wizard who played chess with the mortals around him with seemingly little regard for the fact that they were sentient beings with their own hopes and dreams and foibles. To him, they were just cannon fodder, pawns in a game that he was destined to lose.

Is that what I think? Not exactly. I empathize with Ozma, really. He is in an impossible place. But everyone telling Yang to chill for being angry at him, for transferring some of her anger to him, rightfully or not, needs to take several seats. He’s thousands of years old, she’s a teenager who just wanted her mom around. If you can feel bad for him and a not for her you need to reevaluate who gets your sympathy.