#so i'll just be in my chill indifferent corner <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[ivomartins]

honestly what's disappointing to me about cy2 is simply the fact that it's another new book that i know won't immediately hook me or keep me excited for every new update like psi or hell or high water did when they came out, especially because it's been this way for several updates now. like there was a time where we could always count on new books being interesting and exciting but now it's just like oh... another one...

[preciousbarnes]

I Bet You Think About Me (Tony's Version)

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Word count: 1k-ish

Tags: Angst

Inspiration: I Bet You Think About Me (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift, lyrics bolded and italicized belong to Taylor Swift

3 a.m. and I'm still awake, I'll bet you're just fine Fast asleep in your city that's better than mine

You laid in bed next to Tony, as he lightly snored, the noise filling the room of his bedroom in the penthouse he had just moved you into. You had been comfortable in your own place in Brooklyn, but it wasn't up to Tony's standards. At first, when the move-in talk began, his reasonings were "you deserve better", and "its not safe there, there was a mugging down the street!" But those remarks, after your refusal, turned into "honey, its embarrassing to me that you live there" and "you really want Happy driving all the way there and back almost every day for you?"

His shame hurt the most.

Brooklyn wasn't good enough for Tony Stark. He wanted someone from Manhattan or New York proper.

So here you were, all moved in and items put away. Living right in downtown New York City was a big change. It was brighter, louder, faster than your little corner of Brooklyn.

You curled to your side, bringing your legs to your chest and curling your arms around them to be in a position reminiscent of a fetal position. You allowed yourself to focus on Tony's breathing, thinking it would calm you. Instead, it made you more aware of the juxtaposition of Tony's comfort and your weight of shame and sadness.

But reality crept in, you said we're too different You laughed at my dreams, rolled your eyes at my jokes

"I want to go back to school, and try to start my own business", you told him one night over dinner. He choked on his expensive wine you didn't even know how to pronounce the name of, which at first you thought was an accident until the choking sounds morphed into laughter. He was laughing at your goal. It was funny to him.

Your heartbreak must have began to show on your face before you could school your expression into indifference. His cold hand reached across the table and grabbed yours, sending a chill up your arm from the temperature difference.

"Sweetheart, there's no reason for you to work. And business starting doesn't usually work out for people like you," he said as he sipped his wine once more.

"People like me?" You asked, not understanding and laughing awkwardly, trying to get rid of the tenseness that had begun enveloping the room.

In response, he rolled his eyes a bit and gave a condescending smile before chuckling and saying "Average people, darling. Business starting only works out for people with a way in, with some ingenious ideas."

Mr. Superior-Thinkin' Do you have all the space that you need?

"Hey Tony, where are my things?" You asked upon his arrival back to his penthouse after spending the last few hours trying to find where your things had been moved. You assumed that maybe a cleaner had gathered things up to clean and must have moved them to a spare room or something. Nothing prepared you for what was about to happen.

"Oh, I was hoping to avoid this. I thought you'd get the hint and JARVIS could just inform you if you asked anything. Well, this isnt working out. Having you live here with me, its too crowded, too much. We're too different, its better to end things now." He told you, avoiding eye contact as he hung his suit jacket in the coat closet and took off his tie from the day of meetings he had.

"Its better to end things? You knew how different we were. I gave up everything for you. I gave you everything I had. Everything." You cried, eyes blurring with tears. At this, he snorted with a small laugh.

Everything? He asked with a chuckle, pouring some scotch into a glass. What have you possibly given me? It's been me doing the giving, dollface.

This broke your heart even more. He didn't even remember?

"Tony, I gave you my first, I gave you my heart and soul and body and you don't even remember?" You ask, in sobs.

"Listen, you were bound to lose it sometime, and we don't live in fairytales, it doesn't always work out" he said crassly.

You sobbed openly at his callousness. He was unaffected. He turned to walk to the bedroom you once called yours too, calling to you over his shoulder.

"I was able to get your old apartment back for you, I paid the security deposit and three months rent to give you some time to find a job again and as thanks for our time together. I'll see you around, maybe," he said loud enough for you to hear as he walked into the bedroom and shut the door behind him.

A thanks for your time together? Some kind of thank you, you thought to yourself as you wiped the tears off your face and gathered your coat and purse to return to the apartment in Brooklyn that was once your home before this disaster.

The voices so loud sayin', "Why did you let her go?" Does it make you feel sad That the love that you're lookin' for Is the love that you had?

It took months for Tony to see his mistakes. He went out, partied, playboyed it up. It wasn't the same as coming home to you. Someone who was so different. Something he once thought was bad. Turns out, it was so much better than being around people like him.

The next time you saw Tony was in the same little coffee shop that you had first met in. He was sitting across from a young woman with long, shiny blonde hair. She was talking, gesturing with her hands along with her words, but he looked overwhelmingly bored. He slowly blinked, picking up his coffee you had no doubt was straight black as it always was, as his eyes met yours over the mug as he took a sip.

You gave a small smile, and ordered your coffee to go, thinking to yourself that not too long ago, that girl had been you. The only difference was for a short time you kept Tony's interest. You just weren't what he thought he wanted for himself.

I bet you think about me.

[tarralin]

3. Why Not?

This is the continuation of Diabolicus. You can find my other works on the Master List linked in my blog's description.

Thank you @ikemenfics for beta reading!

Enjoying my work? Buy me a coffe at http://ko-fi.com/tarralin

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

~*~

...

The indulgence of diversion was simply at an end.

...

At least, that was what Kennyo tried to tell himself each night he stood at the forest’s edge until the last candle had been snuffed out. He hadn’t entered her dreams in three nights. It was for the best. His place was in Hell where he needed to return and await his next summoning… and still he found himself watching over her daily actions.

Still he found himself peering through her dreamsphere each night, giving into curiosity.

This night, she sauntered along a stone balcony he knew only existed on castles of old lands and nowhere near these colonies of a young world. The golden gown that clothed her was the fashion of an ended age with the square neckline of a constraining bodice and full skirt swaying across the polished marble floor. A looping filigree traced the long, draping sleeves until the crimson trimming ended its pathway. Her silver locks were kept in their place by pearl encrusted combs pinned to the base of her head and then the luminous curls were allowed to dance freely in the moonlight.

Just as before, her gaze snapped to his without warning as a smile bloomed. “Now Puzzle Maker, I remember giving you permission to enter without invitation.”

“That you did,” Kennyo grinned as he joined her at the balcony. “As unnecessary as it was.”

Her smile faltered slightly at that. “Don't most immortals need permission to enter a realm or residence?”

“They do but, in the case of the Dreamscape—" Kennyo raised his left hand for her inspection, “—only a hair is needed to unlock the portal.”

A bark of laughter slipped from her throat once her eyes found the single silver strand wrapped around his fingers. “So, you've obviously had a plan from the beginning. You sought me out for possible connections to My Brother Once Was… but why do I still feel your presence like a second shadow? Why did you stay?”

Why indeed? Kennyo wasn't sure, even now, only knew that he felt a tug back to the mortal realm each time he stood at the precipice of Hell’s entrance. A pull that only ended in her presence like a fisherman's tether that had caught its prize. Not that he could tell her that, settling instead for indifference. “Why not?”

Her lavender eyes narrowed at the blasé response as if she could see through to the truth but kept her thoughts to herself. A sudden swell of music echoed through the stone walls of the palace to his ears, bringing back her usual radiant smile as she pushed from the balcony. A quick flourish of her hand had a pair of doors forming in the wall before her where previously only solid stone stood. Another flick of the wrist commanded them to swing, opening to a massive ballroom that hosted a moderate crowd of lavishly dressed dancers.

“What is this?” Kennyo questioned skeptically.

With a grin, she spun full circle as if to encompass the entire room until she met his gaze again. “My own means.”

He grinned at the repeated phrase from All Hallows Eve as he circled her in the same form of the dance portrayed by the dreamfolk before offering his hand to her in invitation. “So you often dream of parties that occurred before your time?”

She accepted his hand happily. “My time? Ha! You don’t know much of my kind, do you?”

“Of nephilim? Apologies, but no, I don't. The last Half-Born I know of was the giant Goliath.”

“Goliath? Truly? I didn’t realize we were so…”

“Rare?” He provided when her words trailed off.

“Yes… No wonder Heaven is so insistent on my conversion!” She shook her head, clearing her eyes of the evident disbelief before continuing with her original thought. “My twin and I were born in the spring of fourteen seventy-two but it wasn't until our fortieth winter approached that we realized we hadn't aged like those around us.”

Extended longevity, one more bit to file away on the knowledge of nephilim. “So these fashions and parties were of your time.”

“Yes,” her steps slowed a moment while she glanced around the ballroom, as if seeing memories of old play across her vision. “My brother’s scholarly pursuits lead us to London and in the presence of Henry VIII for a brief time. I was allowed to attend a party similar to this once.”

“Enjoyed it so much you now repeat it in sleep?”

The music ended and they parted per etiquette. “You catch on quick, Puzzle Maker.”

“I’d like to think so,” he raised his hand to her again as a new, lively tune arose.

Just as before, Kennyo picked up the rhythm of the new dance easily and was soon leading her through the steps as designed. She seemed to truly float in his arms with the absence of physical touch, the rustling of her dress along the floor as the only indicator she was there at all.

“Tell me, Lady Nephilim,” he started as he spun her in time with the music, pulling her back flush against his chest. “Why do you call me ‘Puzzle Maker'?”

“You've not offered another title for me to address you by, nor have you told me what you are. Our names have power, even on the Dreamscape, which is why I haven't asked you of yours or corrected that which you call me. Actually, I've grown quite fond of your gifted moniker.” She glanced over her shoulder to ensure he saw her grin. “Are you not a puzzle maker? Have to say, you had me fooled by all those games you sent me.”

“ ‘Games’?!” He scoffed at her flippant attitude, pivoting himself to face her again. “Did any of those ‘games’ challenge you? Frighten you?”

Her smile turned thoughtful for a moment. “The maze.”

“The maze? How so?”

“Come, I'll show you.” She turned on her heel and pulled him by the hand through the crowd. A curtain hung along the ballroom wall that she threw aside to reveal another set of double doors. They flew open without so much as a tap of her fingers, leading immediately outside where an expansive garden laid before them. A hedge work maze stretched as far as the eye could see, the wall of green standing twice Kennyo’s height and eliminating all visual capabilities aside from staring straight up into the sky.

“Now, let me think…”

His gaze settled back to her. The new, predatorial drawl to her words unsettled his resolve as the doors clamped shut behind them with a boom. A wolfish smirk blossomed upon her features when she released his hand and disappeared through a split in the trees. He sprinted through the same split, instincts screaming that he not lose sight of her. Truly, dear Lady, a chase?

“Something's missing...” her voice pranced across his ears as he turned the first corner. She was nowhere to be seen despite the closeness of her teasing statement. “Oh, now I remember!”

An ear shattering howl sounded from the entrance. If he possessed his physical senses, Kennyo was sure his lungs would have frozen. There was only one beast that could relinquish such a soul searing wail. He dove to the left wing and pounded down the gravel path, cursing himself for being so clever as to include Hell’s Hound in the crafted nightmares.

“And let’s not forget…”

A gale of wind whistled through the pathway with enough force to tumble him to his knees, leaves biting across his nose with the realization he could feel the sting. This was far beyond the common lucidity that even some mortals could master. Just what kind of sorcery did the Lady Nephilim practice to accomplish this feat?

The fiendish snarls of Hell’s cruelest creature grew close to his heels. If he could feel the leaves and wind, what damage could the hound’s fangs inflict?

The path brought him to another three way choice. He took the right wing this time, hoping to throw off the hound but still growls of the hunt followed his steps until another choice lay before him. Straight ahead it is.

Again? Right.

This is ridiculous! Left.

Kennyo happened upon another break in the tree line with the same choice trio. “What ‘game’ are you playing here?!” He shouted to the sky, knowing she’d hear him.

Her words were like warm honey over his conscious regardless of her role as the tormentor. “The very same you played at my expense. This one's not so fun, is it?” The chilled blast of wind carried the roar of the pursuing predator.

A sigh from the Nephilim. “Neither left, right, nor forward have proven successful, and you certainly can't go whence you came. Come now, think on it!”

The gale’s howling was rivaled only by that of the hound encroaching upon him. He had to choose again and he had to choose now but no matter which path he chose, it would continuously loop back to this same trident. How did she solve it when she was closed in on all sides—

No. Not all sides.

At the same moment the snarling beast would have captured him, Kennyo lunged onto a nearby branch of the hedge work and climbed. He focused solely on his footwork as he swung from one bough to the next, lest he fall to the jaws of his own handiwork. Once he scaled to the top, the ferocity of both wind and monstrosity ceased and he could see a clear passage to the epicenter.

She lounged across a stone bench waiting for him. She had changed from the golden gown of a queen to a shimmering cloth that matched her eyes, similar to that he often saw draped upon the women of Heaven when they came to dissuade contract seeking mortals. The robe flattered her greatly instead of appearing as if it had been wrapped around in haste and without care. She could have stepped into a painted rendition of the ancient isles and taken their wardrobe for herself.

Kennyo shook his head to clear away the distraction, focusing on her gaze. “You climbed the wall.”

“I climbed the wall,” she agreed, grinning again. “Though it took me nearly all night to figure it out, so I applaud your speed. Ironic that it took you seven turns.”

“Six,” he corrected only to witness her shaking her head.

“The climb counts as a turn, but enough of that.” She stood and crossed the distance to properly meet his gaze. “Why did you stay?”

“Pardon?” Why that question, of all things?

“My hair gives free reign to enter this realm and whatever plans you initially had for Nari dissolved once you learned I would be of no use to you. Yet, you continued to watch over me. Even now, here in the maze, you could have left at anytime. Yet, you worked through it. So I ask again… Why. Do. You. Stay?”

Persistent little thing aren't you? “I… wish I could tell you, dear Lady, but the truth is I don't know the answer.”

There was a glimmer in her eyes at the honesty. “I have a thought on that myself, but I think it best if you realize on your own.”

Suddenly, he wished he had told her of the frustrations of the last weeks, the sensation of being drawn back to her side, everything. In the centuries he walked as a demon, he possessed neither emotions nor indecisiveness. Only a hollowness that was continuously questioned by the mortals as he could never empathize with the tearful pleas or their need for the attentions of another. Even before selling his soul as a human, he’d been free of earthly entanglements and desires.

Now, he understood. Need. Desire. Longing. Did a term even exist to describe to the endless flurry of emotions swirling within him? As he willingly stood here at her mercy, he knew he would beg without qualms for an end to the storm just as much as he wished it to continue for eternity. How could he be affected so greatly? How was this possible?

There was only one impossible answer.

“You really do catch on quick,” she whispered as she lightly trailed a hand up his arm. “It appears you figured it out already.”

Kennyo framed her face in his palms, suddenly lamenting the lack of a physical presence. “Why?”

This time, the brilliance of her smile as she mimicked his motions of cupping his face nearly blinded him. “Why not?”

~*~

If you're curious, see the dress that I was inspired by and envisioned here:

~*~

[ignorant-rat-carcass]

ALL of this! ⬆️

Why can't shows seem to get final seasons right?! Particularly when they've decided it's the final season themselves?!

I get that when a show is canceled or cut short it's hard to write satisfactory resolutions, and that's sad but understandable when you don't get a well thought out or fitting ending to a story.

But.... when YOU as a writing team back YOURSELF into a corner by announcing (even waaaaaaaay ahead of the writing stage!) the final season, there is (in my humble opinion) no excuse nor reasoning behind suddenly overcomplicating storylines, introducing random new characters (taking the focus away from core cast), and packing it with filler and new threads instead of honouring the characters and stories that the vast majority of your established, core fan base ACTUALLY cares about.

Don't get me wrong. I've enjoyed a lot about this season....

Jesus Villanelle (but could have been one episode) was a gem.

Motorbike Eve - random, but I enjoyed it. I'd have enjoyed it more if Villanelle had been the one training her and then tagging along to 'supervise' but I'll take what I can.

Villanelle being genuinely vulnerable and asking Eve for help. Huge pivot from the scene in 1x05. I love that growth in her.

Eve relaxing into her new found 'chill' about the kind of work she's now doing! (She's SO far removed from the trench coats and chickens of S1)

Konstantin and Villanelle's hug! 🥺

Villanelle's therapy session. Really looking at herself and her relationship with and control over Eve.

Eve almost losing Villanelle - and realising this is definitely definitely definitely not what she wants.

So I'm in no way writing off the whole season - there has been a lot I've enjoyed.

However, and I know I may be biased, but based on a the vast majority of the comments I've read about the direction and writing of season 4, the KE writing team really missed the mark this season and entirely unnecessarily so.

As the comments in the above thread says - Laura could have easily picked up season 4 seconds, minutes or even days later of the bridge instead of months.

But even if it was months, the shift in Eve and Villanelle's tone seems completely out of nowhere! Eve turned before Villanelle on the bridge! She wasn't ready to let go either. There is NO logical explanation - without context - of her sudden indifference to Villanelle. And writing that into the opening of a final season is a poor move. Especially when there's already so much existing and unresolved rich story there to address.

We've all waited 3 seasons to finally reach this point where we get to see Eve and Villanelle finally in a place where they can be entirely honest and authentic with each other; the good, the bad and the ugly.

They've finally earned a sense of peace around each other, with total respect and mutual understanding of one another and can for the first time be completely true to themselves and each other with no more baiting or chasing.

Platonic, romantic - whatever! Personally, I don't believe anything between these two was every merely platonic, but even if we didn't get, or need, episode after episode of loved up or ripping each other's clothes off Villaneve, I did need to see more of them together.

Working together. Against the twelve. Or whomever else got in their way of getting out. IF that's what they wanted at all.

What I would have given for...

Heartbreaking or hilarious conversations on a road trip on their way to bump off Hélène.

Eve saving Villanelle.

Villanelle saving Eve.

Tag-team killings.

Villanelle training Eve.

Eve talking Villanelle down.

Eve stroking Villanelle's hair!!!

And I don't even think that's a lot to ask. Three seasons of set-up was perfect!

The cat and mouse chase. Learning about each other and learning that they could - in spite of EVERYTHING that has happened between them - trust the other.

A fourth season of them just completely in it together taking on the world or whoever would have been the *french kiss* ending we needed.

What a waste.

THIS. All of this. I've seen parts of the fandom argue that it was unrealistic of us to expect anything other than the same old conflict we've seen for 3+ seasons and I'm going to explain why that's NOT true.

Reason #1: Season 3 ended on a positive note. Does that mean the show had to pick up and continue with that thread? No. But the writer of 3x08 was also the show runner for season 4, so I don't think it was "unrealistic" for us to anticipate that she would pick up where she left off rather then retconning her own writing

Reason #2: Killing Eve intentionally put LGBTQ+, sapphic writers in their writing room this season. That excited us. Because clearly they were looking for sapphic material right? Well technically yes, but instead of using that material on the couple we've waited on for 4 seasons, they constructed an Eve/Helene arc in 5 episodes. Some of the audience loved it and great, happy for you. I didn't, because why could they give Eve and Helene more sapphically charged material in 5 episodes than they could give Villaneve in 4 seasons? And in the final season no less where now, even if we are thrown some moments, they will feel all too rushed and their story will feel like it was not fully explored/incomplete

So no, we weren't being ridiculous or unrealistic in our belief that the first showrunner to previously write for the show might actually be capable of sustaining some consistency. We weren't being ridiculous or unrealistic in our belief that LGBTQ+/sapphic writers would result in the Villaneve content we've all been waiting for

The only ridiculous thing about any of this was the show's complete inability or unwillingness to deliver on any of these things