#that she’s a hypocrite and a traitor

[watcherintheweyr]

desperately need people to understand that alicent is a victim but she’s also an abuser and a perpetrator

that she actively makes choices to harm other women because of jealousy and envy and the greed deep in her bones because submitting to suffering didn’t get her what those women fight to grasp for themselves.

she is absolutely a victim, in show.

that doesn’t change that she abused rhaenyra and her children, her own son, most likely helaena given how she flinches every time her mother touches her, and is actively weaponizing the patriarchy of westeros against other women- rhaenyra primarily, but also mysaria and dyana.

she isn’t the moral, righteous force of good that even she thinks she is, she’s a wounded woman directing all of the rot, pain, and fury inside her at the wrong people and forces.

[catofoldstones]

“I wish sansa were more aware and smart like the original outline sansa who was older and more conniving uwu” bestie, you can’t even handle alicent. sit down.

[lord-squiggletits]

Also speaking of absurd plots in Barber's writing, shout out to that time he wrote a scene of Optimus and the US President talking. And the US president who's a black woman and her father was a civil right's activist has nothing to say about the fact that a police officer in her country getting killed by Jazz was a big reason ppl don't trust the Autobots? Like, a major diplomatic incident b/t humans and Autobots just never gets discussed? Optimus never goes "so heyyy the reason my soldier killed a police officer is because he was about to kill injured and surrendering Autobots, can I get a pardon for that? Or maybe some kind of editorial where we get to clear the air and show both sides of that incident? In the spirit of transparency and fairness not only to your people but also mine?"

Like.

The black female president whose father was a civil rights activist has nothing to say about an incident of a police officer about to fire on surrendering suspects, and then the media treats his attempted killing as him being the noble police officer just doing his duty who was completely in the right to shoot??? Why was this major diplomatic incident not part of some major convention between humans and Autobots? Why did Jazz/Optimus never get to share their side of this incident on an official political or diplomatic channel? Why did Barber write one of his politician characters as being left-leaning and clearly in-tune with social justice issues, having nothing to say about a police officer from her country (a country infamous for police brutality and racial inequality, which she would know personally because she's a black woman) being the subject of an interplanetary dispute causing tension between Earth and the alien civilization trying to help them not get colonized by Decepticons?

Instead the purpose of that scene was like... I don't even remember, it was basically the US pres going "my father was a civil rights activist" and Optimus is like "hm I guess I'll leave Jazz out to dry for the sake of diplomatic relations." I don't understand why the only possible outcome of the story was for Optimus to just abandon Jazz when, as Jazz' commanding officer and a representative of Cybertron, he would've been within his rights (and indeed, may have had such meetings during the war) to demand some sort of trial to clear Jazz' name? Like, the fact that Optimus had this diplomatic power but didn't even try to use it, and the US President had a character background to make her sympathetic and she didn't bring up a trial either, just feels like a massive plot hole.

It's just so fucking bad because not only does the treatment of that incident not make sense logic wise (an international/interplanetary? incident of that magnitude is DEFINITELY something that would be discussed between the leaders of the two nations in question), it also kind of makes Barber's attempts to put progressive politics in the comics look really stupid? Like. Shouldn't a black female president whose father was a civil rights activist go "Ah yes, unfortunately I'm very familiar with pro-police propaganda and the way police are often potrayed as people who can do no wrong. We should talk more about this incident of your soldier killing a police officer, maybe have some sort of trial to determine wrongsoing. Because the fair thing to do is to give alleged victims an attempt to speak and not just assume the police are in the right." Like the US President isn't supposed to be a super important character in the plot or anything, but I just think it's really fucking weird to add this US Civil Rights Era background to one of your characters and then have her not react sympathetically at all to an incident of attempted police brutality.

It really seemed like that whole plot of Optimus deciding that public image is more important than saving Jazz feel super forced and stupid, not to mention it portrayed a minority character with activist backgrounds as being apathetic to an issue she should have a lot of stake in.

...

Also have I mentioned that the incident I'm referring to of Jazz killing a police officer was an event specifically orchestrated by Megatron? Who seeded mind-controlling, paranoia-inducing guns among Earth's populace with the specific goal of poisoning Autobot-human relations? And Megatron literally did an evil monologue about this plan in front of Spike and another Skywatch operative, and Spike is still part of the military in the present day, meaning that he would've known that Jazz killing a police officer was just part of a plan by Megatron BECAUSE HE WAS LITERALLY RIGHT THERE WHEN MEGATRON EXPLAINED IT AND IMMEDIATELY RAN TO TRY AND STOP THE INCIDENT FROM OCCURRING???

[milksnake-tea]

━━ say you still dare to dream .

Sunday has lost everything. His status, his home, his sister, all of it has slipped through his fingers, all for a failed attempt at salvation. Now imprisoned and destined to live his life in shameful shadow, you, his former subordinate, appear to offer him one last chance of redemption.

sunday x gn!reader

contains: aftermath of 2.3, depression, sunday at his lowest

word count: 1.5k

a/n: depressed sunday is my favorite sunday. like damn bro you got BROKEN ig this is what being rammed by a train 8 times does to a man... ANYWAYS. DONT TAKE THIS TOO SERIOUSLY THIS IS JUST ME DOING SOME WRITING PRACTICE WITH BEING DRAMATIC hunches over and dies

taglist: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace , @flurrina

“I can only allow you a few minutes at most,” says the woman in purple.

A devil in velvet, that was what they called her. Although she may not look like much - from a distance, you’d mistake her as yet another filthy rich vacationer of Penacony - up close, her snake-like eyes and elegantly poised stature, always ready to strike unsuspecting prey, told you just how dangerous she was.

Lady Bonajade, the Stoneheart of Credit and the most deranged loan shark the galaxy had to offer. She who does the impossible and creates miracles for the price of one’s livelihood.

She, who is currently the master who holds the life of the fallen Oak Family Head in her perfectly manicured hands.

You meet her chilling gaze with steeled eyes. With a deep breath, you force down the lodge in your throat.

“I understand.”

Jade smiles. It is neither threatening nor comforting, although you cannot help but feel unsettled by her calm amusement.

“Most of the Family has turned their back on Mr. Sunday,” she comments, crossing her arms and tapping one nail against her arm. “Why haven’t you, I wonder? Surely, a mere subordinate wouldn’t be so loyal to a traitor of this degree.”

You know better than to answer her. After all, all of her questions are rhetorical - tests. She already knows their answers, she just wants to hear them come from your lips.

But you don’t give her that satisfaction. Your silence is answer enough.

You walk past her and come before a heavily armored vault door. A bit much, in your opinion, for a man who has spent the majority of his life asleep. But he is also the man who had taken control of the Asdana system and nearly ascended into Aeonhood, so this level of security is to be expected.

Hundreds of locks and gears turn before the doors open with a hiss and a billowing of smoke. With a mental prayer to Xipe for strength, you step into the dark cell.

There’s little to no light in the small room, leaving you to wonder how Sunday had managed to stay sane all this time. You already know the cells are essentially soundproof, and with so little light, the Family’s prisoners were shut off from the rest of the world and their senses.

The brief rustle of chains catches your attention, and you turn your gaze to the iron throne at the center of the room.

Oh, how far he has fallen.

Once gleaming gold has lost its luster, reflecting not sympathy nor love like you had known them to, but defeat and a resigned acceptance. Fair skin has become drained and faded like that of a corpse. Feather-like hair, once so meticulously cared for, is ruined and frayed.

Bound are the hands that would never raise against another, and shackled are the wings that have never known flight. Caged is the bird who has known no other home; only now, his gilded shackles have become sullied, ugly, disdainful.

He is hollow, empty in every sense of the word - drained of what little vitality he once had.

“Sir,” comes your whisper. He doesn’t respond.

Your footsteps are heavy as you approach. Sunday’s head is bowed - something his pride would’ve never allowed back in the day.

Once upon a time, you had found his arrogance annoying, hypocritical even. Yet at the same time, it was endearing, knowing that even the perfect and saint-like Sunday had his faults. In a sense, it had brought him down to earth, it had made him human.

Seeing him like this, so despondent and defeated, makes you long for the days where he’d scoff at the IPC or make back-handed compliments for his own sick pleasure.

“Sir,” you repeat. You stop before him, and kneel down to one knee.

Sunday’s eyes flick to meet yours, before dropping down to his lap, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. Out of guilt, or out of scorn, you don’t know.

“Why have you come?”

Your heart aches at his voice. It cracks from the days without use, deeper than his typical chirp.

“I am a sinner, a traitor to the Family.” Not once does he meet your gaze again as he speaks. “Visiting me…”

He exhales.

“You should leave.”

“I won’t.”

His hands clench from where they’re bound to the arms of his throne. Briefly, annoyance flashes over him, before he lets it wash away with a slump of his shoulders.

“It would be easier if you just- left me here,” he says painstakingly. “I am of no use to you anymore - if anything, I am a stain. Abandoning me… is the logical thing to do.”

“You and your logistics,” you sigh. “Did it never once occur to you that I cared for you as a person, and not just as my superior?”

His eyes are shaking. Sunday’s expression is pained, like that of a grieving mother.

“Why?” he asks again, his face straining as he tries to understand. “Why are you here?”

Your answer is simple. “To free you.”

Bitterly, the corners of his lips twitch in a cynical chuckle.

“You of all people should know that I was not meant for freedom,” he mutters.

You shake your head. “That is what you believe. Lady Bonajade and I agree that you deserve to have this chance.”

“Lady Jade, huh?” Resentment flashes in his irises as he scoffs. “So you intend to coerce me into accepting charity from the IPC?”

Hurt pangs at your chest and you flinch. “That isn’t-”

“Spare me the concern,” Sunday spits, turning his head. “I may have fallen, but I still have my pride. If that’s all you have to say, you can leave.”

For a moment, you are speechless. Then you are indignant, and you rise slightly, your brows furrowed.

“Why are you so willing to accept your fate?” you ask, almost angrily.

Sunday exhales. “What else am I expected do?”

“This can’t be how your story ends." Your fist balls up the fabric of your pants in its grip. “Locked away, isolated from the rest of the world - that can’t be what you want. It is too cruel a fate for you.”

For you, who loved humanity so deeply.

“Tell me,” you say, gazing up at the man who had torn his skin and carved his heart for the people. “Tell me you want to be freed, and I will do so. I’ll take care of everything. All I need is for you to say that you want it.”

He shakes his head, his eyes squeezing shut.

“I don’t understand,” he whispers after a moment of silence. “Why, for me…”

“What is there to understand?”

“This is unreasonable,” he starts.

“Not for me, it isn’t,” you say softly. “If it’s for you, nothing is unreasonable.”

His voice raises, trembling upon its crumbling pedestal, panic seeping into every word. “I don’t deserve that kindness - that mercy. I am a sinner, I am a traitor, I am-”

“You are a man worth saving.”

Sunday’s eyes fly open. He stares at you, eyes wide with surprise, his lips parted as to say something, only for the words to die on his tongue.

Your neck is beginning to hurt from how long you’ve been looking up at him, but you push the pain aside.

“The Sunday I knew was kind and gentle,” you say, subconsciously leaning forward. Pent-up emotions, cumulated through the years, begin to bleed into your voice, weighing it down. “He always looked out for the weak, and cared when no one else did. He put others before himself, and even if he was a little arrogant, he was selfless.”

“No,” Sunday protests weakly. “I am not- You- I-”

“You are so much more than you allow yourself to be.”

Rising from the floor, your knees aching slightly, you gently take the face of the fallen angel in your hand. Cradling him like glass, you force him to look at you, to look one of the many he’d betrayed in the face, and see the love for him despite it all.

“Sunday, do you wish for freedom?”

For the many years you’ve worked under him, his eyes have always been a cold gem, calm and unfettered. Never have you seen them glossy with tears, threatening to break at any moment.

You see fear and desire clashing as he grapples for the first time, a choice not for the people, but for himself. You see the beliefs that have been molded into him beginning to crack. You see the caged bird gaze at the world beyond his bars, and for the first time, want to soar beyond them.

Sunday’s lips open and close as he struggles to find the right words to say.

“Where will I go?” he asks instead, tearing his gaze away. It is answer enough.

You smile softly.

“Anywhere you desire.”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[romanoffsbish]

Carved With Love

Natasha Romanoff x Wife!R

Yelena Belova x Fem!R (The true love story 🥹)

Yelena’s in town for the holiday season, and who would she be if not wreaking havoc? | WC: 1,986

Warnings: Mentions of Neglectful Past | Siblings

Yelena was a menace; you knew that from the insight your wife gave you before she introduced you to her.

“Y/N, she literally blew herself up and said it was fun,” your wife had reiterated her stance, that being: Yelena was a complete and total maniac. “Sounds like she’d fit right in with you and your band of superheroes,” was all you’d said back while adding pasta to your cart.

The two of you had been together for nearly a decade when they found each other again, and though the blonde was wary of a meeting she quickly agreed after hearing that the two of you were married with kids.

——

You couldn't really blame her for wanting to meet them more, especially your daughter, the eldest, who shared a name with her. They clicked instantly. Then there were your sons that you carried back to back, Andrei and Aleksander, who were bonded like twins. It was like they gained a triplet with their aunt. Then there’s the latest, Flora, who was just turning six months old and who was absolutely in love with the blonde.

The group were nothing but trouble, you adored that.

When you met her, your heart had doubled in size as you realized she was just trying to forget, to be a kid. Something you knew she never got to be, so just like with your own children, you let her get away with it all.

Natasha didn't much appreciate that, well, truthfully she adored just how much you already loved her sister. But, she was a bit jealous that you were so lenient with her, even if she knew you weren’t with her because she needed the structure and redirection you provided her.

As of right now, she thought you were also insane, "Detka, I don't think you thought this through..." Natasha mumbled against your temple from behind, where she stood with you securely in her arms, and you shook your head and softly chuckled. "It's fine baby."

Natasha currently feared for everyone's safety as her sister held one of those little orange carving knives.

"Oh my gosh, Y/N Romanoff, look!" Yelena shrieked, and your wife sighed when she felt your body relax. There was no hope left, you were at her sister's mercy. Yelena held up a stencil and you smiled. "It's cute."

"No, it is badass!" Yelena corrected, only to be met with a glare from her sister. "Watch your language."

"Natasha," you scolded instantaneously, "Lighten up."

"But she —," Natasha went to defend her decisions but quickly cut herself off when you turned with a glare.

Everyone got away with murder, except Natasha. (Well, in this symbolic context that is…)

Yelena smiled smugly at her sister, she even stuck her tongue out to mock her as you weren't looking. The redhead flipped her off, and your daughter gasped. "Mama! That's the bad finger!" Your eyes widened. "Natasha! What are you now? Some sort of hypocrite?"

"Predateli'," Natasha grumbled, making your daughter laugh alongside her aunt who was taping the ghost cat on a zombie dog's head stencil to her large pumpkin.

(Traitors)

"You all behave," you scolded the entire room before leaving to the kitchen to collect the cookies. Natasha tried to follow you, like a hurt puppy, but you made her stay behind to make sure nobody had a carving crisis. 

Which was in vain because when you came back in the room you found Yelena had upgraded to your sharp carving knife, and you nearly dropped your plate.

"Yelena honey, that's too dangerous," you practically shrieked, but not really to avoid her hand slipping. Not that you didn't have faith in her trained hands, but you knew accidents could happen regardless of skillsets. The blonde pouted up at you, and Natasha watched you once again melt into her little sister's charm.

"I can't use the little orange one," she pleaded for your understanding, "It is too tiny and ineffective."

"Okay," you folded instantly and your wife's eyes widened with flashes of shock and betrayal. The one time Natasha had done the same thing years back, before your kids, you'd given her a safety lesson.

“This isn’t fair,” she grumbled to herself, but she also let it go when she saw you sitting with her sister, eyes focused in on the way she carved the pumpkin and mouth at the ready to give her advice or a light scold.

Natasha let her festering resentments go, and shortly after joined you all at the table so that the youngest member of the house could play with the guts. It was a perfect moment of domesticated bliss, and the redhead couldn’t help but to feel at peace in current company.

Then the following morning came, and you learned a few things. Yelena had a new favorite holiday, and in turn a hobby, carving, which piggybacked right off of her other, bugging her older sister as if it was her job.

"Natasha," you tried to calm her, your hands on her tense shoulder as you kept her from lunging at the blonde. "You need to calm down my love, I can..."

"No!" Natasha cut you off, "She will do it, not you."

"She's our guest," you reminder her, but she merely rolled her eyes—something she never did towards you. "More like a pest, Y/N/N, make her leave before I do."

Your eyes narrowed fast, and your wife cowered at the sheer intensity. "Apologize to her, right now Natalia."

The redhead held back a scoff. Yelena had carved a face only a mother could love into her favorite fall leather jacket, yet she was the one who had to apologize here.

"I'm sorry, parshivets," she begrudgingly spat at the grinning blonde across the room. "I accept, cyka."

(Brat / Bitch)

You sighed, and regretfully turned to face the smug blonde. This was partially your fault too for having let the girl get away with murder up until this point.

"Yelena, now it's your turn." Yelena frowned, but then she nodded and relaxed her features. "Sorry sestra," her tone was genuine, "I will buy you another one."

"No, you don't have to," you let the girl off the hook. "Yes she does." Natasha rebuked your words in a flash, then she intelligently rephrased, "No you don't."

You smirked and rewarded her with a kiss that she tried to melt into, but once again Yelena interrupted with a rumbling stomach. "Can we make pancakes?"

Natasha's hands harshly gripped your hips, and you smiled at her in understanding, she missed you. "How about you go get the kids up while we make breakfast?"

The redhead reluctantly let you go with a nod, but before she got too far you pulled her in for another kiss. "I'll be all yours soon, just have some patience."

Yelena was leaving after the holiday's event, and the kids were going to Wanda's for a spooky sleepover. You'd planned accordingly, and your wife smirked at the reminder, chastely pecked your lips then ran up the stairs with a reinvigorated pep in her once glum step.

"Get the chocolate chips," you instructed your sous chef, and she did so with a smile. Yelena was learning to cook from you, you never outright said it, but you worried about her eating habits. All she could make was mac and cheese and that was artery clogging if not met with a balance of other things besides takeout.

Yelena appreciated your concern, it was clear to her that you were the perfect match for Natasha, because you were an even better platonic match for her. The way you let her just be who she was, who she was discovering herself to be with her newfound freedom, meant the absolute world to her. You were a light that she found comfort in, and would never let go of.

Once you showed Yelena how to make the batter you let her ladle it onto the griddle. "Don't flip it yet," you instructed, your back was turned but you were aware of her piqued curiosity and she was enamored by your spy like skills. "You're like a super mom or something."

"It's nice to see my skillset is appreciated," you teased the younger girl as you returned to her side and gently bumped her hip. "I appreciate all of you, sestra."

It took you a second to reel in your emotions, you'd only been hoping that she wouldn't hate you, but it turned out that she actually liked you, and you didn't want to cry and make her reevaluate that judgement.

Instead you settled on hugging her shoulders, giving her a gentle shake as you showed her the indicators for flipping before finally letting her flip the pancake.

Just as you settled a pancake on the plate you heard an obnoxious scraping on the glass. "What the—." There before you was a focused blonde, the tip of her tongue rested on her lower lip as she carved your perfectly round pancake into a ghost cat. You shook your head with a fond smile, "You really love knives, don't you?" Yelena mirrored your expression and nodded as she now carved an eye into a pumpkin. "They are so cool."

"Natasha loves her guns the same." Yelena flinched, "Guns are too rigid, and loud. Knives are fun, you can do flip tricks with them and they're just as lethal."

You noted her clear discomfort with firearms, and filed it away in your mind as a later topic of discussion, and fortunately the kids came barreling into the kitchen. Yelena dropped the knife and, just like every morning, she greeted the little boys with the tickle monster.

Then came your daughter’s greeting, “Yelena Belova!"

Yelena then followed her lead, “Yelena Romanoff!"

You shook your head at their antics, then you returned to your task at hand, and began to set the table. You placed the blondes masterpieces in their designated spots, a pumpkin for each boy, the cat for her parrot, and the torn to bits pieces went to the toothless baby.

You were gifted two perfectly sized hearts, topped with fruit and whipped cream. Natasha got zero change to the shape, but instead, she was gifted icing words.

“I’m not eating that,” Natasha growled, and you bit back a laugh as you saw the script. “What’s it say?”

Natasha shook her head at you, and glared in her sister’s direction as you attempted to read the Russian out loud, “Tvoya zhena lyubit menya bol'she.”

(Your wife loves me more)

“Damn right,” Yelena teased as she sat in front of her own pancake, “Don’t worry sestra, she loves you too.”

“You two, knock it off and eat your breakfast,” your mom voice came out, and everyone was suddenly sat. You nibbled on your food while making sure your baby didn’t choke on hers as she gobbled it down like a cat (Liho and Bob) being fed at the normal time everyday.

Once breakfast was finished you sent the kids to the living room with their aunt to watch cartoons while you and your wife cleaned up the mess left behind.

As you were packing up the fruit you felt two arms snake around your waist, and a kiss placed on your neck that you instantly melted into. You felt her smirk but ignored her smugness as you lazily cleaned up.

"You're spoiling her," Natasha groaned, you shrugged and turned around to face her with a genuine smile. "I'm just giving her the same chances I did you."

Natasha frowned, "I hope it's not exactly the same."

"That’s disgusting!" Yelena groaned from the couch and you giggled into your wife's shoulder. Avoiding the question in your kids eyes, and leaving Natasha to answer it. The redhead smirked, throwing her sister a wink before she completely pulled you out of the room.

Two could play at this game…

—

[jamdragon]

Okay I've seen a lot of posts and comments here and on another short video app I shall not name about how Vi is a traitor and a hypocrite to join the enforcers in season 2. And while I don't quite want to open the bursting suitcase that is Caitlyn's current emotional state and actions, I do want to ramble a bit about how I've been interpreting Vi's actions.

The most common and coldest take I see a lot is that "Vi abandoned her family and morals because she loves Caitlyn" usually worded much more poorly, which is absolutely not true in the slightest. Getting back to Powder was her number 1 most important goal during season 1. I mean, when Caitlyn first presented the badge to her, she freaked out and outright refused. She does not want to be an enforcer but she takes the badge in the end because she sees no other option. However much she says she isn't blaming herself for Jinx's crimes anymore, she still blames herself for creating the monster. Joining the enforcers was the best way to get to her.

Is she a turncoat? Yes, absolutely. Was there literally any better option? No. Does any of this excuse releasing the Gray and using it to flush people out of the streets? Fuck no. At best, that was morally questionable, at worst a fucking warcrime. I'm pretty sure she knows that this was bad, but she's telling herself to keep going, because of Caitlyn.

Yes, she does love Caitlyn and if anyone else had proposed this idea I think she would have shut it down. But as a reminder: she watched her entire family die in front of her and then immediately spent something like 10 years in a very abusive prison system thinking that her sister might be dead. The first person to show her kindness in a very very long time was Caitlyn. And I think now that she has to accept that Jinx is not the sister she knew, she really believes Caitlyn is that last person she has. She wouldn't have any friends or family or even a home or a way to support herself. Right now, she needs Caitlyn to survive.

So Caitlyn turning her back on her, hitting her in the same place that she'd been wounded before, that Caitlyn did her best to heal her from, was like stepping on the fingers of someone hanging off the edge of a cliff. She'd been holding on desperately, but now she's got nothing and she just hit rock fucking bottom.

Thank you for coming to my Tedd Talk.

[spacerockfloater]

Gentle reminder that Alicent could have outed Rhaenyra when Criston told her about their night together in order to bring her father back to court, but she did not do so because:

1. she did not want to inflict irreparable damage to her friend, in spite of what she put her through

2. she valued Criston’s life, despite barely knowing him, who would have been executed had she told Viserys the truth

And she still refused to advance her son for the Iron Throne, even if Rhaenyra kept pushing him down the line of succession by giving birth to bastards and branding them as legitimate, up to the point when Rhaenyra felt that she and her children did not have to suffer any consequences for disabling Alicent’s child.

But sure, she’s the traitorous hypocrite.

[merlinmylove]

I always find it so funny (in a heartbreaking way) when Arthur says “why didn’t you tell me?”

like dude ??

Merlin’s entire existence is outlawed

he was born a crime

how could he have, especially if Uther was still alive?

I understand Arthur feels betrayed and hurt because Merlin didn’t trust him but cmon let’s look at the show

Merlin has been sent to the stocks and the dungeons for being late with breakfast and missing laundry — what would the punishment be if he told the Crown Prince he was a traitor to the kingdom? Banishment, death, or worse? And what if Uther found out?

I don’t think Arthur would’ve killed Merlin, but he would’ve sent him away or hated himself for harbouring a sorcerer — he’s now a hypocrite for putting one person above the law while his father burns druid children

Gaius would’ve been hanged by association, and his mother killed for having concealed a dragonlord (let alone giving birth to another one)

Gwen was arrested twice on suspicion of sorcery, and Uther ordered her pyre built — the only reason she didn’t burn is because 1.Morgana spoke in her favour and, 2. Another sorcerer took the blame

(I love arthur so much but why does he never consider the fact that the love of his life and future queen, was almost innocently executed twice because there is no way of confirming she didn’t use magic — because how does one prove a negative?)

And I doubt Gwen is the first and only person to be falsely accused of sorcery, but she’s the one of few who had friends in high places who were willing to defy the King in order to save her life

If a Kings word is law then why even bother with a trial?

We’ve seen several times that Witchfinders or Druid catchers can steal people (probably citizens from other kingdoms) and earn a living by selling them to the King of Camelot

(and i don’t belive for a second every one of them had magic or were druids. Besides, the whole court now believes the witchfinder to be a fraud, so why does no one think about the future people accused of magic — how does one prove it?)

Mordred was hunted throughout the kingdom for a week simply for being born a druid (neither the King nor Arthur had any way of knowing if he actually had magic, he was simply guilty for existing within the borders of Camelot)

(Arthur risked everything in order to save the little druid boy — i wish this was spoken about more in the show but alas. Also, Gaius mentioned that Uther drowned several children — why does no one in the show discuss this? Does Arthur not know?

We know he feels immense guilt and grief over the raid in the druid camp he led and he did atone for it. I love Bradley’s acting in that scene, his voice breaks as he accepts the reality of what he has been apart of

Merlin saw all this. He lived all of it. How could he have told Arthur he had magic and expected a good outcome? He wanted to, multiple times — but the risk of banishment was too great.

But what about after Arthur is King? How could Merlin tell Arthur he has magic after Uther dies from magic, Morgana has gone mad from magic, and Aggrevaine betrayed him? Merlin could not bring himself to add more betrayal and heartbreak onto Arthur

I adore when fanfic discusses these aspects of the show and actually talks in detail about the horror Uther caused for over 20 years

Make Arthur think for himself and come to terms with what his father did, and also what his own legacy now is

Make Mordred, Morgana, Gaius, and Merlin talk about the horrors of the purge, and the the fear of living under Uthers rule

Make Gwen speak of what she experienced when she, and her father, were wrongly accused of a crime they didn’t commit — they were going to burn innocently, just like those children Uther killed

By Uthers logic Magic corrupts. It is a power one seeks out and must be studied. It is an evil — if that is the case then why did he allow Gaius to remain at court, and privately attend the king and his children? Surely Gaius would be corrupted by now…unless magic does not always corrupt…

I want Arthur to ask himself these questions— why was Gaius (the Kings friend) allowed to stay alive if he simply promised not to use magic again? Why were those innocent druid children not given the same choice?

Arthur asks himself several times if Magic is always evil, or if it can be used for good — and some times it’s almost successful, but in the end it’s like a catch 22 — Arthur sees (mostly) magic being used for evil so therefore it must be evil

I don’t want Merlin to be angry with Arthur or to have a screaming match with him — but I do love when Merlin passively aggressively sets the record straight

The canon answer he gives is “you would’ve chopped my head off” is perfect in my opinion because YES death always a possibility

Especially if Uther found out

(i don’t think Merlin is entirely blameless of course, he could’ve tried harder to sow the seed of doubt in arthur’s mind that maybe magic is not always evil — like after morgause or when arthur requested magic to heal his father, or when magic saves gwens life)

(if only merlin was braver, if only gaius was bolder, if only aggrevaine didn’t betray him, if only gwen spoke up, if only if only if only)

i love these boys so much and i love the angst and arthur’s heartbreak is so painful and merlin’s guilt is all-consuming

thank god for fanfic lol

but anyways this is my rant because i’m bored at my family christmas dinner so

[harukamitsuki]

(spoilers ahead)

honestly, i think one of my biggest issues with my hero is how horikoshi is really good at setting things up, but fails in the execution of basically anything and everything. especially when everyone wants to see it prosper.

a world where everyone has quirks, except for our main character, who strives to be a hero despite that

the number two hero is anything but when behind closed doors.

the number one hero comes off as endlessly joyful, yet is more tired than anything

a world where your worth is based on your quirk

a world that is so obssessed with heroes that hidden crimes are just forgotten

a boy who was so hurt that he could only hurt in turn

a girl who was so restricted that she can't understand personal space

a boy who was neglected for being weak so he strives to become stronger and in turn only hurts himself more

a boy hated simply for looking different so he rejects the world for the world rejects him

and a boy hurt by everyone around him, but uses that to make the world a kinder place.

all of this is present within mha, but none of it is expanded on, or if it was, it felt like lip-service at best, and downright insulting at worst.

the powerless mc gets an incredibly powerful quirk and forgets he was ever quirkless.

the number two hero is abusive but it's totally okay because he regrets it and his abusive scenes are treated lightly later on

the number one hero goes back to his old ways when he finally gets a chance to be himself

there is no commentary on quirkless discrimination, and we barely see the impacts of having a 'weak' quirk

hidden crimes are explored, but there isn't anything regarding how the future generation will solve this issue

that boy who could only hurt after he was hurt so much? yeah he dies despite the mc wanting to save him so desperately, and there is no satisfaction in it. because he still didn't want to be saved

that girl who was so restricted that she couldn't understand personal space and boundaries? yeah, she never learns what they are, and nobody directly calls her out on this

that boy who was so neglected for being weak and only hurts himself the stronger he strives to become? well, it's actually his fault because he couldn't forgive his abusive father. his misplaced envy towards his abused brother is never delved into

that boy who rejected the world that hated him for being born? yeah, he's never shown any kindness from the people who should be showing it. instead, he's taken down while he's lost his mind and becomes a massive hypocrite

that boy who was hurt by everyone around him yet still wants to save others? yeah, he's still being hurt by everyone around him and is never praised for helping people, only scolded by others. he loses everything and isn't even allowed to work for it again.

the set-up for everything is so good, but the pay-off and the execution is just not.

i feel like horikoshi was winging it half of the time, hence why he forgot about the traitor plot point. something fans were speculating about for years, horikoshi just forgot. it's like - he set it up as early as the usj, forgot to build up aoyama's character, and speedran it. because of this, it didn't feel earned.

'you can still be a hero,' does not feel earned at all. why should we care about aoyama when the creator himself doesn't? the traitor could have been anyone, and it wouldn't have changed a thing, because the set-up was gone. by the time he'd remembered there was a traitor, everyone else forgot about it.

the same goes for the deaths.

i've seen people commend mha for killing people off, but, the things is, do we really care about who was killed off?

nighteye? he was a dick, and it was clear horikoshi was trying to do a whole 'redemption in death' thing, but let's be honest. we only care about the impact it had on mirio, which wasn't even much. it could have been anyone. nighteye surviving wouldn't have changed anything.

midnight? we did not spend nearly enough time with her to give two shits about her death. maybe if she were 1-a's homeroom teacher, as was originally planned, it may have meant more. as it was, who cared? she didn't even die on-screen. it could have been anyone.

native? i don't even need to explain. nobody cared.

star and stripe? did anyone really get attached to female all might? no, because there were no dimensions to her.

stain? what did his death serve? what would have changed if he survived? nothing

like, if you kill someone off, it has to mean something. what was learned by nighteye's death? heroes die? we learned that ages ago with the water hose heroes, and with stain's mini-arc. maybe it was to show, yeah, we're not afraid of killing people off.

but it didn't mean anything! at least have nighteye learn something. make it a proper tragedy - maybe he wants to apologise to all might but all might arrives too late. maybe he finally acknowledges that it was never his right to dictate who gets ofa and really apologises to izuku. maybe he can't even say goodbye to mirio.

maybe, in trying to do something, his sacrifice means nothing... until, when he's already dead, it's revealed that it did.

killing a character off to show how serious you're getting is fine... if it weren't already clear that it was serious.

people say killing off so many was mha being realistic, but they don't understand two things.

one: if you want to be realistic, kill someone off in the usj, because a bunch of kids just starting school should not be able to hold off against actual villain. if you want to be realistic, have the kids be shoved into counselling after the usj. if you want to be realistic, have aizawa die against the noumu. that's realistic

two: NOBODY GOES TO ANIME FOR REALISM!! seriously, if you want realism, go watch an indie movie or something. not anime, where everything is drawn and people have superpowers and tripping over means you accidentally grope someone.

the thing about killing characters off is that it has to mean something to both the characters and the audience. if we do not care if a character dies, it does not need to be there.

example: (spoilers for one piece ig) whitebeard from one piece. even now, people still quote his dying message. 'the one piece is real'. both this line and his death have a massive impact in-universe, and we the audienced cared, despite the relatively short time we go to know him. his death actually mattered. had whitebeard not died in marineford, i guarantee that nothing would be the same.

fishman island wouldn't have been taken over by big mom. marco and izou would not have appeared in wano, or if they did, the entire whitebeard alliance would have shown up too. there would still be a balance in the emperors. sengoku would not have retired.

there are ripple effects from whitebeard's death, and everyone one piece fan still remembers it clearly. and the same goes for every other death in one piece: ace, bellemere, kuina, hiriluk, tom, the rumbar pirates, rojer. every death had its meaning and affects either the world as a whole or specific characters who would go onto impact the world anyway.

mha just doesn't let you care about the characters it kills off, nor do their deaths have meaning, because there isn't a pay-off.

the set-up is there. the pay-off is not.

and that, guys, gals, and nonbinary pals, is my biggest issue with mha. horikoshi's execution.

[rynnthefangirl]

Sometimes it becomes hard to hate Team Green when they do such a great job of causing pain and suffering to my least favorite character.

Aemond's a deranged bloodthirsty little psycho, but when he burnt his rapist usurper brother to a crisp?? Iconic.

Alicent is an obnoxious hypocrite, but now she's throwing her son under the bus and is gonna let him be beheaded? Wonderful! It's about time someone did that.

Otto is a manipulative traitor piece of shit, but him putting Aegon the Usurper in his place was one of the highlights of season 2.

Larys is a snake, but he's also gonna poison Aegon down the line, which will be doubly great in the show with Aegon being betrayed by the dude he thought was on his side.

Aegon stole his sisters crown, and all it will ever bring him is betrayal, heartbreak, suffering, agony, and death. As it should be.

[gachagon]

@ Your analysis about how the P:EG cast is full of hypocrites:

Another huge contrast I thought of between them and the casts of the Danganronpa games is that with the DR casts I could see certain scenarios where all of them make it out alive. But with the Eden's Garden gang it feels like a murder was bound to happen.

And a big part of that in my mind is because the majority of murders in Danganronpa are due to the characters being manipulated by Monokuma & the Masterminds. Even Korekiyo who didn't even kill for the Necronomicon motive was still manipulated by Team Danganronpa into being a serial killer.

With the first case of Eden's Garden though that isn't the case. The motive didn't even factor into the case other than Eva stealing the taser gun from Desmond's room. Yeah Eva was on a time crunch because of the Traitor Perk but she was already planning to commit murder beforehand due to being worried that someone will kill her. The perk just made her quicker to put her plan into motion.

Honestly if one of the students had tried to say that "the one to blame for Wolfgang and Eva's deaths is Tozu" like what's usually done after executions in Danganronpa I feel like Tozu would have an actual leg to stand on unlike Monokuma.

He didn't start anything, he was merely fanning the flames that the students started.

I agree with this too because even though the rest of the class didn't take Eva seriously, when she was ranting about how "Any of you would've done what I did!" I kind of believed her. They're already so distrusting of one another, and them pretending that everything's okay while holding onto this serious distrust amongst each other is just fueling the Killing Game. If Tozu had left the puzzle for Desmond and it was a bullseye or something, would Desmond had shown anyone as well? If it was some special law puzzle that only Wolfgang could decipher, would he have shared it with the rest of the class?

I truly don't think so. I also noticed they blamed Eva for a lot of Tozu's actions, like when Tozu introduced the motive, Grace said "So we're in this mess because of the math girl? Typical..." because Tozu said he became inspired by Eva's outburst in the pharmacy over the watches.

But it's NOT Eva's fault, she's not the mastermind after all, she's in the same boat as them. But they still put the blame on her instead of being mad at Tozu for spying on all of them. I think the motive itself not factoring into the murder is a good plot point in the story, because you at first think that someone will kill to keep their secret hidden. Or maybe someone has a terrible secret that they don't even want another person knowing about.

I remember hearing that this is the type of Danganronpa where only 2 survivors will make it out, and usually that's not the case but I can definitely see it happening with this group. They're not killing each other or hating each other over the motives the Headmaster gives, it's because of how they treat one another instead T_T

[vidavalor]

Michael

Michael's little look of revulsion at Uriel calling Aziraphale a traitor in the scene below is so interesting...

In S1, Michael is just the worst sort of hypocrite, right? They have relationships with demons but turned Aziraphale into Gabriel for being involved with Crowley. They try to screw over Gabriel, even though they know that Gabriel was protecting them from The Metatron finding out about their own "backchanneling."

They trip over themselves to look like they're The Metatron's golden child-- leading thugs to jump Aziraphale in the street and trying to kill Crowley with holy water in the process-- but we know from their relationship with Ligur that they're not really as much of a rule-follower as they seem to be. They get away with all of it because Gabriel, like he was doing for Crowley and Aziraphale, covers for them.

In S2, though? Gabriel is gone.

Michael, in their reaction to Uriel referring to Aziraphale as "the traitor," doesn't actually seem to approve of the idea of, well, literally demonizing the demons. This suggests that their relationship with Ligur wasn't just strategic on their part-- Michael actually agrees with Gabriel and Aziraphale on the demons.

In other scenes in S2, we saw suggestion that Uriel doesn't think this is right, either. It's as if Uriel and Michael not trusting one another means that they're both putting on a show of trying to look like they're following what The Metatron says is the way but they're both in disagreement with it.

Does Michael feel vulnerable there without Gabriel?

They know that he was fundamentally decent in a way that many of these other angels are not and that, without him, The Metatron and the angels that The Metatron has in his corner are that much more powerful. Michael and Uriel might both feel isolated without Gabriel and, because they don't trust one another enough to express that, not realize that they're maybe in the same boat.

It's sort of enough to wonder if maybe one of the reasons why Michael is just so awful in S2 is that they're trying to keep themselves alive to pick up the torch from Gabriel, in a way. Do they see themselves not just as successor in terms of job title but in terms of being the one that can be trying to look after the other angels in secret-- but only if they can manage to have enough power to do it by first getting their hands on Gabriel's job?

Is there more to Michael's power grab than might meet the eye?

Is she kind of like how Gabriel was in S1-- unhappy about it but willing to sacrifice Aziraphale because he was one against the many they were tasked with keeping safe-- but not really actually against Aziraphale or any of the things he stands for?

Is Michael going to wind up joining the revolution, too?

After all, in a season with a theme of recognition? The only person who even came remotely close to recognizing Gabriel?

Michael.

[criminalamnesia]

for a slight spinoff to the traitor pieces...

how bad would it have been if the initial interrogation had been passed off to another team?

i feel like protocol would bar the 141 from having to hurt one of their own, if anything for conflict of interests, going too hard or too soft on them, liabilities, etc

BUT. they have the advantage of knowing so much about their teammate, that they probably reported their weak points- family, traumas, insecurities, ALL OF IT, and all of it told to them originally in what was supposed to be a level of confidence. The 141 is betrayed anyways, they think she spilled their secrets, so they do it with bitterness but no regret.

Well no regret until it turns out she hadn't betrayed them in the first place! whoops!

i think its one thing for you to ask forgiveness after literally cutting off their finger and crippling them, but its another thing entirely to have not been the one to beat her, but to be the one supplying all of her deepest thoughts and weak points to allow someone ELSE to do that much more effectively

THAT is much worse of a betrayal imo. especially since it'd embolden the boys more as they beg for forgiveness; they weren't even the ones who beat you, it was out of their hands! but they dont realize just how deep of a transgression it was for them to turn on one of their own like that. hypocrites

im also thinking of it being like, a week or two since you got detained, and they're doing some digging for their own missions, and someone sees a lead not end up right... and after some chasing they realize themselves that the intel was forged and then THEY gotta be the ones to go to the higherups and get you pulled out of there. they feel like heroes, and that you'll be so happy to see them again when you wake up in the infirmary, but you see the faces of your team and remember how the interrogators beat you to questions about things that you had only ever told to your boys

those are just my thoughts teehee!

your mind is so powerful.

(honestly, you guys should take this series out of my hands and write it yourselves. you all have so many good ideas!🥰)

but I kinda agree with you. physical torture is awful, don’t get me wrong. but the team sees that, and they don’t feel bad because they didn’t inflict those wounds.

psychological torture, though? they can’t see what they’ve done to you, but it’s there. and because they can’t see it it makes it so much worse. it makes it so much harder for them to understand why you won’t forgive them, and why you won’t praise them for clearing your name.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Wassup y'all, I'm back from lowkey radio silence with another hot take.

I've been trying to figure out lately why my multishipper ass dislikes a lot of ships within the fandom- more specifically a lot of greaser/soc pairings, and I realised at the core of it it's because there is no conceivable universe where they work without completely changing canon or the personalities of the characters. or at the very least their loyalties and motivations. Narratively, the novel is very clear about this, it even throws Marbit in our faces to prove it, showing (greaser) Two-bit his absolute dream girl who is beautiful and fun and likes him too , and yet is forever unattainable because she's a soc.

"Oh but Lovely, you ship Marbit! And you've written Parry! Obviously you're just hating on our ships."

No, I'm not. I very specifically DON'T hate on any ship, because that makes fandom less fun and more toxic and that is the LAST thing I want to do and because everyone deserves to have their blorbos and their ships that make them happy, I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum. And I realise my claiming I can't see greaser/soc pairings and using Marbit as an example of why while also actively shipping them looks very hypocritical. That said, I ship both Marbit and Parry in a very specific way, that would work canon compliantly, or at the absolute minimum still within canon verse without changing the tensions or the history between the east side and the west wide, or the characters as people.

Do I think Marbit could work in canon (in a post canon verse)? Absolutely I do- but not with Marcia staying a soc, or (more unlikely) Two-bit staying a greaser. If it's going to work- and I think it will because they are each others person, in any universe, whether it works or not- then Marcia either needs to fully acccept that the man she's in love with is a greaser and will always be a greaser, he is from the east side, and he has nothing set up in terms of a future, and no family money to keep him safe and sheltered. She needs to accept it, and accept Two-bit in the process, and embrace a life where she is ok with it being her future, particularly if she and Two-bit ever want to date in the open, and definitely if they ever want to get married. If Marcia wants Two-bit she needs to be prepared for the judgment she will face from her peers for marrying a man so far 'beneath' her, has to be prepared for potentially being disowned/cut off by her parents, needs to be okay with the realities of east side life becoming her reality. In a slightly different reality, Two-bit needs to be prepared for marrying Marcia meaning he needs to clean up his act, needs to realise it will entail being forever looked down on by her family and friends (if they stay in contact), be prepared for Marcia's parents to pull some strings and get him a decent job, not a soc level one but one available to the upper middle class and definitely not poor kids. If Two wants Marcia he needs to recognise that it will mean no more petty thieving and no more booze and being viewed as a class traitor by the majority of his neighbourhood. In either version he has to be ready to deal with the people who will tell him he's ruining Marcia' life, that he dragged her away from her life and her potential, will perhaps have to grapple with those feelings even if they come from no one but himself.

But I still could see them working in canon, and working as themselves, but their relationship would always be affected by soc and greaser dynamics and if they work out, one of them will forever be viewed as a class traitor, and it will absolutely not be smooth sailing no matter how much they love each other.

Parry is a little bit different, but it's still a greaser/soc ship I could see fitting in canon, or in universe without egregiously changing the characters or class tensions, and a big part of why is because it's a clandestine relationship that is doomed from the start, and is doomed in every universe. It's a first love, a secret gay relationship between teenage hypermasculine football players in the 60s. Here, class tensions probably caused tension in the relaionship, but outside pressures would be less because Darry was well liked by even the rich kids and known to be going places, and also because the relationship itself never saw the light of day. The reason I ship Parry but only when they're doomed is because it very obviously could happen: Darry could kiss Paul in secret and still be a greaser loyal to this neighbourhood, and Paul could snog Darry and still be an upstanding upper class golden boy without looking like he's punching down, because no one knew they were dating in the first place. They could have truly loved each other when they were together and in canon it means nothing except the fact that their fight was a bit more personal than any other at the rumble, because neither of them ever intended for their relationship to be anything but a secret. They knew it would never be real in the sense they could have a life together, so it fits in canon because they characters were only ever going to be themselves, and as themselves their social classes make it so they are fundamentally incompatible, even if homophobia wasn't a barrier that it so obviously would have been. Darry and Paul work as a plausible couple because they never plausibly would have ever made a go of a serious relationship, and they both know it.

"Oh but Lovely," you say "by that logic any greaser/soc gay ship works in canon verse or canon adjacent verse. You should be able to see/ship any of them." To which I say no, not necessarily. First of all, not every queer person throughout history was okay with having a secret relationship- quiet ones sure, but gay people had 'roommates' in the sixties, and i think textually there is a lot of evidence to support that the majority of the Outsiders characters, were they queer, would not be particularly interested in being anyone's dirty little secret. And even if that weren't the case, and they'd be fine with a secret relationship, the fact remains that the greasers and the socs don't like each other. In fact, they canonically despise each other to the point where violence between the groups is commonplace. Darry was in a very unique position as captain of the football team and boy of the year, to form a connection with Paul that would be able to blossom into romance. He had a level of comfort and familiarity with the socs that the vast majority of the greasers don't have, and would never attempt to or even want to attain. The average greaser sees the socs as a danger and the reason they always get the short end of the stcik, and the average soc sees the greasers as ruffians and thugs, dirt under their shoes that belongs there. Yes, the book makes the point that all people are just people, but from what we see textually the chances of a greaser and a soc- particularly of the same gender- getting close enough to form a romantic attachment is slim to none unless both sides got really cool with a bunch of stuff really quickly after the rumble.

ANWAY if anyone is still here thank you for listening to my rambly unedited thoughts from 2am, these are my reasons for not shipping the majority of greaser/soc pairs, I hope they make sense

[romanoffsbish]

Please, Forgive Me

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

You broke up with Natasha—what have you done? | WC: 1,882

Warnings: Brief Angst | Toxic “Friend” / Natasha (if you squint) | Nonsexual Nudity (18+) | H/C Ending

“You look really pretty," Valerie, your best friend said with a smile that made your stomach flip into turmoil.

——

The smile on her face dropped, the sound of your chair scraping against the linoleum the clearest rejection. It made you sick and regretful for the last twelve hours.

It was an adrenaline rush spurred on by another fight with your beloved girlfriend, Natasha... Your beautiful, sweet Natasha with enamoring eyes and a sultry smirk.

You lurched up the dinner you just shared with that traitor Valerie, who smiled at you so tenderly, it was alarming. With her repulsive blue eyes, riddled with darker hued lines to which you confused with safety.

They were dangerous; a dark storm you got caught up in, not much unlike the one you were running through.

You missed the soft pair of green that belonged to the woman who owned the key to your heart and knew the way to unlocking your soul with purposeful fingers.

Looking into her eyes was a luxury only you and Yelena were granted; the halves of Natasha's heart, oh my...

You'd broken that heart only thirteen hours ago, now you were running through the rain to make amends. It was well past midnight but you had to get across town to the compound Natasha was unfortunately staying at.

If only you would have cast that she-devil aside at the first warning Natasha threw your way you'd be safe in her arms right now, likely looking into her eyes that reflected the same heat the fire beside you would've.

Natasha's eyes were your favorite feature, truly. The way they changed your view of her in various places always filled you with wonder on how she saw yours in the first place, she was just too good for this world.

At the compound they were almost always glazed over with a clear authority no one could question. From a side glance you'd see the Black Widow, but whenever she looked your way, which was often when you'd visit, there was a sparkle of humanity reserved for you alone.

Inside the four walls of your apartment her eyes always shined like brilliant emeralds, and her teasing smirk oftentimes softened into a goofy smile; a pure love that unfolded within her irises, right before your very own.

When you were outside she'd usually wear sunglasses, but on the off chance she'd forgotten them you could see the way the sun drew out light splotches of brown. Which fondly reminded you of the days you two spent wandering the countryside, getting lost in forests with shades of green that reflected the same field you got lost in every time you looked into your lovers orbs.

They were complex—guarded, but you had worn down her walls enough to get a peak into her greatest joys and most heartbreaking sadness. You blinked hard, a hand on the freezing call box outside of the compound going unfelt as you tried to forget the pools of sadness.

Those were the last things you saw when you broke up.

The thought alone nearly halts you, the minuscule contents left within your stomach churning tauntingly as if to remind you that this was all your fault. Valerie told you Natasha was being toxic, and in some twisted sense you actually believed the hypocrites words.

You told Natasha she was toxic, and you knew how much that likely shattered her remaining self image.

What kind of person does that to the love of their life?

All of you wanted to push the code and call out to her, but you realized now how selfish it was to expect her to console you. This heartbreak was all your own doing because you truly thought Valerie was your friend, that she was right thinking Nat was being controlling, but she was a two face liar and you were an absolute fool.

Natasha deserved better, your hand fell from the box and you were prepared to walk away, but a soft voice full of exhaustion called through the speaker, "Y/N?"

All you could do was to pitifully whimper her name.

You cast a look down at your watch, a photo of the two of you smiling popped up under a bright red 1:32AM that flashed beneath a raindrop, which magnified the early morning hour that filled you with shame.

There was no time to apologize for the impromptu arrival as you heard the loud buzz that let you in. You resumed your sprint and through your tears made it to the place Natasha stood ready to catch you in her arms. The impact had to have hurt her just as it did you but she stood strong, like an unmovable fortress. A warm breath fanned over your chilled cheek and fresh hot guilt trailed down your cheeks when you felt her relax.

Natasha wasn't angry, no, she was relieved. This was meant to inspire joy in you but it hurt you more. Of course the woman would forgive you just like that.

"I'm so sorry Nat," you wailed, breaking the silence, "Fu-fuck, I can't believe I-I," you couldn't stop the harsh hiccups that stopped your heartfelt apology.

This absolutely made Natasha panic, you had stopped breathing for more than three seconds, she was about to rush you to the medical wing if not for your sharp inhale. "Keep breathing detka, just breathe, please."

You looked up into her eyes and for the first time ever you saw fear, in the bravest set of eyes you'd ever seen.

"I," you tried again but she pecked your lips shut. "I don't need you to apologize detka, you coming back to me is apology enough. I'm not mad, just worried, so please don't fuss and just let me take you inside..."

Natasha was a warrior but right now she was breaking, her eyes were pleading with you to finally stand down. To wave your white flag and let her fix everything.

"Okay," you whispered, and were rewarded with a warm kiss to your cheek that sent a shiver down your spine, which didn't go unnoticed by the worried spy.

Without question the redhead took you straight to her room and ran you a bath that likely rivaled the devil's. The redhead preferred room temp but never backed down from the challenge when it meant she could hold you close. Tonight was different though, even if she didn't need your apology she did need your consent.

In your relationship, that was technically called off, it was always welcome unless announced otherwise.

Natasha made no assumptions, and simply escorted you into the room when she deemed you'd adjusted to the rooms temperature enough before you were set to enter another that would have been polar opposite.

But you stopped her dead in her respectful tracks.

"Stay." She couldn't say no even if she wanted to, the way you looked over at her, like a frightened mouse, it made her forget all of the pain from the prior day.

There was nothing but tenderness in her touch when she tilted you up and slid in behind you. Her arms didn't even have a chance to settle around you as you instantly rolled over. Natasha had huffed in genuine surprise when you straddled her, your arms dangling over her shoulders as your face pressed into her neck. Her muscular arms locked over one another around your lower back and she hummed a soothing tune.

A gentle smile adorned Natasha's face when she heard the first snore then felt it rumble against her skin. She was ticklish and suddenly desperate to clean the both of you up and get you tucked into her Avengers bed.

The first time she heard you call the mattress that with such disgust she became defensive. But, before she could match your energy you elaborated and it was so sweet, how you regarded your apartment bed as hers, that she learned to listen first and question later.

Natasha knew yesterday afternoon that you'd come back, once you've had time to think of course. Not because she was manipulative or cocky either, but because she believed in not only your love, but her gut. She knew that as soon as you saw Valerie's intentions you'd come here to apologize for thoughts given to you.

The glint in your eyes when you're being truthful was missing when you broke things off, and so she knew this was just a standard moment of lived experience.

Natasha knew you wholly, which is why she knew better than to expect you to stay asleep when she left the room. She returned to find you sat up, the sleeves of her hoodie were balled up in your fists that rubbed your eyes in an attempt to make your vision less bleary.

"Detka," she hummed, it was angelic like, "I made you some tea because I wanna get ahead of your cold."

You pouted and shook your head. "Natasha..."

A tense sigh left her and your back straightened.

"I am not mad Y/N," her tone was level and void of unsureness, "you can't sway me because I love you, and I know you were being poisoned by your dear friend."

"Enemy," you corrected venomously and she chuckled heartily, as if your distaste healed her fresh wounds.

"The point is I love you and knew you loved me too."

"I do," you pleaded with pooling tears in your eyes. "You are my one and only Natasha, I'm so sorry."

"Don't cry pretty girl," she wiped away tears that slid halfway down your cheeks. "Don't be sorry either, I think we're stronger than this moment detka."

"But I hurt you, you should hate me." Natasha gritted her teeth and nearly spilled the tea as she set it down with a purposeful slam. "Don't ever say that again."

You blinked in shock as she gripped your chin and forced you to stop staring at the wall behind her, and into her eyes instead. Another sob shakily left your lips as you wordlessly understood the truth in them, she wasn't capable of doing anything else but loving you.

Instead of trying to make your point that she deserved better, which you knew would be futile, you leaned in and kissed her with a gentle passion. "I'm sorry..."

"I forgive you," Natasha relented, giving you a sense of closure even if she didn't mean the words. Her entire life up until you required a ruthless demeanor, but she has taken so well to the softer side of life with you. It was impossible for her to feel the anger she should towards you when you'd done nothing maliciously.

You called her toxic, it hurt; you didn't mean it though.

Intent is everything to the woman, and she knew yours was, ironically, under the influence of another's words.

Plus, Natasha knew on some level that she was toxic—it was something Valerie would come to find out once the redhead finally tapped into the fresh heartbreak...

For now though, she'd hold you close and listen to the way you breathed, a warmth, layered with a sense of calmness crept into her chest and soothed her woes with every subtle reminder that you were still hers.

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

Replay | ateez x reader

Pairing: pirate!ateez x adventurer!reader

Genre: adventure, fantasy, time travel, poly

Warnings: mention of a panic attack, mention of a sharp object.

Word Count: 1475 words

Summary: You're given a second chance to change things. But will you go or stay?

a/n: hello hello! welcome to my first one-shot! (but not really hehe) if you're new and found my account for the first time, I hope you enjoy my stories and it's really wonderful to have you here! :) In an update a while ago, I mentioned that I currently have a plethora of story ideas that I would love to develop into a full-length series one day, but for now, in order to not overwhelm myself, I will be posting these stories as one-shots/imagines so that I can share it with all of you and come back to it later on! This is my first one inspired by Marry My Husband and set in a world like the Choices' game Blades of Light and Shadow! Let me know what you think and happy reading! <3

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You're standing at the plank, back against the sea, tears streaming down your face. You refuse to look up at your lovers. There's a rollercoaster of emotions going on inside you, ranging from pain, hurt and betrayal to anger. 

They chose her over you, believed her melodious and cunning lies, and expect you to apologize to her. You're not looking up but from under your eyes, you can see her figure cozying up next to Wooyoung's. He's telling her not to cry, wiping away those crocodile tears in contrast to your real ones. 

Raw rage is slowly thrumming through your veins and resentment is coiling in your stomach as a vortex of anger gradually swirls inside. You've had enough honestly and you were no longer going to bend to anyone.

"Just apologize Y/N." Hongjoong remarks in a cold and distant voice.

His sword is right in front of you, barring you from getting off the plank.

"For what?" you respond icily,  "I've done nothing wrong."

Hongjoong grumbles under his breath and another person steps in, you recognize its Seonghwa by his boots.

"Please Y/N, don't be childish. Aera is younger than you, she needs us to look after her. You can't get jealous so easily."

Jealous. Such a funny word coming out of your lover's mouth. It's hypocritical rather, because your eight lovers lose it over the slightest glance someone casts in your direction.

You find it ridiculous.

The girl weasled her way onto the ship, and you had a bad feeling about it since day one. But you didn't think it would come to this. 

Love. That's all you ever wanted, and you found it in these eight men, who you had been with since the age of 16. They loved you more than anything, at least, that's what they said.

The only thing you want more than anything right now is to go back and choose differently. 

"I—" you declare, "I hope in my next life, true love finds me."

"Y/N what—" Yunho begins but you cut him off.

"I hope I meet someone who truly loves me and I hope it isn't any of you." 

You raise your head and look at Hongjoong directly in his eyes. He's taken aback at that cold and empty look in yours. He can see the wheels turning in your head but he’s not sure what you’re planning.

"Traitor." You verbalize before running into his sword.

"NO!" All eight voices ring out.

Shouts and screams erupt from all eight men as your blood begins to stain Hongjoong’s sword.

"Y/N WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" Hongjoong screams.

You pull away and stumble backward towards the edge. San tries to reach for you but you pull your hand away and fall into the sea.

You're thinking this is where your story ends but actually dear one, this is only the beginning.

-

You startle out of your trance. You're in the fortune teller's shop. Blinking around haphazardly, you try to zero-in on your surroundings. Memories flood into your mind as you recognize where you are. This is the shop you visited when you were in the town of Maverick - it would be a month before everything happens.

You're dumbstruck by what just happened. Just moments ago, you were on the plank, ran yourself into Hongjoong’s sword and fell into the cold raging sea. Now, sitting in front of you, the elderly tarot reader draws some cards and gives you a reading.

"You're in for a big change dearie. I see the wheel of fortune is in your favour but be warned, the justice card reversed suggests there is dishonesty somewhere. "

“And this one?” you ask, pointing to the death card.

“In its upright position, it reveals that beginnings and change is expected. You’re nearing the end of a cycle.”

You don't ask for a further explanation, you pay and leave, walking back to the tavern where the boys are currently in. But as you walk out the shop's door, it begins to rain.

No...

Immediately, memories rush into your mind as you recall the timeline of events. It will rain and then the dam that's near the town will break, unleashing a flood. Aera is already with you all, the boys bringing her back home to her father after she got herself caught up with some misfits. But when the flood hits, everyone will scamper and she will come back with you all, joining the crew and then ruining everything you had with the boys.

Reaching the tavern, you watch from outside: all the boys are sitting around a table while Aera's father brings another round of drinks, and says something to Hongjoong. Aera stands at the far back of the room but you can tell there is something on her mind, that dubious and suspicious glint in her eyes. Her father walks back, she asks him something and then he scolds her before walking away. She balls her fists but then regains her composure before hopping over to your boys.

Previously, none of this had happened, as far as you remembered. After visiting the tarot reader, you waltzed into the tavern, pecked San and Jongho on the cheeks before placing yourself next to Yeosang who drew you closer to sit on his lap, his arm around you bringing you in closer. Aera did not come and sit with you all.

This time you hesitate entering the tavern, wondering if wandering around, accidentally getting lost or going the other way would be better. 

Love. That's all you ever wanted and you thought it would be with these eight boys. Now, you weren't so sure.

Little did you know, this moment of hesitation will change the course of your life. As you continue to think about your next course of action, a figure runs into you, bringing you down with him.

"What the—" Before you can even question, the figure jolts up, ready to run again. But you're quick on your feet too, and you grab the person by their wrist.

"Now wait a minute Mister," you begin but you're cut off by shrill shouts.

"There he is! Get him!"

You turn to the voices but before you can look at the person, he grabs your hand and pulls you with him. 

You have no idea why you're even running with him. You're strong enough to break free and go your merry way but as you study his back, you're intrigued — this black hair guy has a pretty feathered twist in his hair and silver dangle earrings. Something about him entices you.

He leads you down an alleyway, over a wall and then into an open field. The next thing you knew, you are on top of a hill that overlooks the town. He brings you behind a tree and you rest against the bark, trying to regulate your breath. The stranger crouches down attempting to do the same.

"You're insane." You remark.

"Yeah well, you were slowing me down so I had to bring you with me if I wanted to get away."

He doesn’t seem dangerous but rather, very amiable. The rain has stopped and there is only a slight drizzle, but from on top of the hill, you can see the dam that’s about to burst.

"No...the dam..." you mutter in-between breaths.

The stranger turns to the dam’s direction and his eyes widen. The dam erupts and rains down like a waterfall. You watch in fear and fright at the sight and your mind races to the boys, but deep down you know that they'll escape. 

But this time, you're not with them. You're with this stranger, now apart from them. 

"Hey are you okay?"

There's a wave of emotions and you feel yourself spiralling into panic. Your heart pounds in your chest and a familiar grip of fear tightens your chest, each breath of yours shallower than the last. Suddenly, the stranger holds you gently, looking at you with a reassuring calmness.

"Hey, don’t look there, look at me okay? Deep breaths, you can do it, take your time and follow me."

You do as you're told, the stranger running soothing circles on your forearms provides a sense of comfort and relief, and after a few minutes you finally compose yourself, staring out at the now submerged town. It's heartbreaking. 

"Where are you going to go?" he asks.

"I don't know." You answer.

The stranger hums and thinks for a minute before getting up and stretching out his hand for yours.

"Let's get going together then."

You're taken aback by his boldness but fascinated and captivated at the same time.

"I don't even know your name." you voice out.

He helps you up and gives you a polite smile, one that is soft and heartfelt.

"Yoonghoon. My name is Kim Yoonghoon."