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dwellordream · 4 years ago

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A Six of Crows Review: Joost and Inej I

This marks the beginning of my review of Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo. Before I go any further, I want to provide context for my experience/knowledge of the book and its fandom. Six of Crows was published in 2015 when I was 16. I picked it up in a bookstore and read the first few chapters idly while shopping, before putting it back down.

At the time, my dislike of what I’d read was probably primarily fueled by the realization that it was by the same author as Shadow and Bone, which I had tried to read a few years before and disliked, and because at the time I was aging out of the YA genre in general and had very little patience for many of its familiar tropes.

In recent years, Six of Crows and its companion and predecessor series, the Grisha Trilogy, have become one of the most popular YA series online. The avid fan response and promotion of it on social media no doubt led to the Netflix series being greenlit and it is obviously trending at present due to the success of the series. With all that in mind, I’ve decided to try Six of Crows again and see for myself what all the hype is about.

Some more caveats: I am 22 years old. I am aware Six of Crows is YA literature intended for a middle and high school audience. I will not be holding it to the standards I would hold an adult grade fantasy book, in terms of prose, themes, or content. I am aware that I am not necessarily the target audience for the book and these reviews are in no way intended to shame or disparage anyone who enjoys the book.

Criticism is a healthy part of any fandom and does not necessarily constitute hate. I will likely critique elements of the book in my write up. That does not mean I have a personal vendetta against the author, publishers, or the TV show. Please do not take this as a personal attack if you’ve enjoyed the book. This is just intended to promote discussion and to gather my own thoughts.

If you follow me, I am tagging this as ‘in review’ so you know what to block if you don’t want to see my posts on your dash. I will be going through 1-2 chapters per weekend. This weekend I will be looking at the prologue, aka Joost, and the first Inej chapter.

Jumping into things, here is Joost:

The prologue is our introduction to Ketterdam, the setting of Six of Crows. It’s been a very long time since I read Shadow and Bone and so all I really know is that Ketterdam is a city in an island known as Kerch, based off the map. The major countries or kingdoms of the mainland to the east appear to be Fjerda, Ravka, and Shu Han, though it is unclear how they differ from one another at this point.

Ketterdam through Joost’s eyes is a sinister and dreary place, a city under a grimy night sky and full of dangers. Joost works as a hired guard for a very wealthy man named Hoede, who keeps grishas, powerful magic users, as indentured servants. Joost is infatuated with one of them, Anya, a healer, though he knows she is not likely to return his affections and furthermore cannot wed without the permission of her owner. We also learn that grishas are at risk for being kidnapped and sold by slavers due to their value. However, the indentured servant system of Ketterdam thus far doesn’t seem to be much better than slavery, given how little freedom the grisha have.

Overall, the prologue is supposed to give us a sense for the setting of Ketterdam and interest us in the main hook of the novel, which seems to be a mysterious substance that grisha can ingest to heighten their powers for the benefit of their masters, though it has the risks of making them uncontrollable. How well is this done?

Through Joost’s perspective we can glean several things; Ketterdam is a dirty city with rampant income inequality, full of crime and corruption. Magic is an established system within Ketterdam, but the magic users do not seem to be at the type of the hierarchy despite their powers, which suggests they are a minority to the extent of which they can still be controlled by the elite class of non magic users, if they have enough money and power.

It is also very obvious through the references in the prologue that Ketterdam is heavily based off the Netherlands during the Golden Age, which was Amsterdam’s (Ketterdam… Amsterdam… not subtle) economic and cultural boom during the 17th century, aka the 1600s. Notably the world’s first stock exchange began in Amsterdam in 1602, and it was a major port and trading hub for the Dutch East and Dutch West India Companies.

It is not clear if Ketterdam is also intended to be a 1600s-esque society, timeline wise, but we know that rifles are common place and there is a thriving merchant class who rule as opposed to old aristocracy, which seems to indicate a Renaissance style setting, as well as the urban environment in general. (That said, from the advertisements for the Netflix show, they seem to have updated it to a more Victorian-era 1800s society, in terms of fashion and general aesthetics).

Overall, the prologue does its job. It gives us a vague idea of what Ketterdam is like, how the society is structured, and who holds the power. It also ends on a suspenseful cliffhanger, leaving Joost’s fate unclear. Where it falls flat is that I think a little more time could have been spent fleshing out Joost as a narrator, even if this is his only showing in the book.

His internal monologue comes across as a bit dry and mechanical, as if the author is aware he is just a means to an end to start the book off with a bang, and he quickly turns into a walking camera (just there to report events to the reader, with no internal input from him), for the second half of the prologue, as we switch to just watching Anya and Hoede through his eyes. That said, it’s not a major problem, as Joost is clearly not intended to be a main character, and his narration still effectively conveys what is happening and sets the dark tone of the novel.

What I would have liked to see from the prologue is perhaps the POV of Anya herself, or the small child she is being forced to experiment on, as that might have been a more compelling and immerse introduction to Ketterdam and its dangers rather than the fairly bland and neutral Joost, who doesn’t really feel like a character so much as a bland stand-in for the reader. If we were put in the shoes of Anya, suddenly called upon by her power hungry employer to participate in this unethical test, or in the shoes of the small boy caught up in the middle of this, it might have been both more thrilling to read and given a more gritty sense of what it’s like to be on the lowest rungs of Ketterdam’s society, at the mercy of the most powerful.

Moving onto Inej, we run into some similar problems. After Inej’s first chapter, I couldn’t tell you a single thing about her, other than that she was an acrobat as a child, that she is part of the street gang known as the Dregs, and that she intensely values loyalty. This isn’t a problem, per say, but while that’s all good to know, it doesn’t give me any sense of Inej’s actual personality, which doesn’t exactly bode well. Like Joost, she comes across more as a walking camera and occasional tourist guide as opposed to a human character with her own worries, hopes, and fears.

I think this may become a recurring problem with Bardugo’s writing - ie all tell, no show. Inej is good at telling things. She tells us where we are as we follow her to the location of a stand-off between rival gangs, she tells us that Kaz, their leader ‘doesn’t need a reason’, though she never exactly explains what that means other than that he is widely feared, she tells us that she is very fond of her knives.

But in terms of writing, we shouldn’t have to be force fed all this information via her internal monologue, which, again, entirely cuts out once the action picks up, just like Joost’s. While I don’t need her thoughts on every threat or gunshot, it would be nice to feel as if she hadn’t just vanished from the story completely as soon as the dialogue starts.

We also meet Kaz and Jesper, though I couldn’t tell you much about them utter than that Inej clearly admires, even venerates Kaz as an accomplished intimidator and chess master, and that Jesper is clearly the joker of the group.

It also feels incredibly weird that this parley between gangs in happening in front of the city’s stock exchange. Inej tells us this is because the Exchange is one of the few remaining neutral territories, but it’s also heavily guarded, which means every time a gang wants to parley, they have to pay out the cash to bribe all the guards to very pointedly ignore a meeting between rambunctious and trigger happy street gangsters on their literal doorstep.

I understand why Bardugo chose this location, wanting to contrast the violence of the gang members with the economic injustice that the Exchange and its merchant rulers represents, but it just seems a bit silly. They couldn’t meet at the docks? In an alley way? This is like picturing the American Mafia hosting a public meeting at the New York Stock Exchange with a bunch of cops twiddling their thumbs nearby.

The foreshadowing that Bollinger is the traitor (‘I’m not going to bet on my own death’) also seems very heavy handed and a little much, but I’ll let it slide.

It’s also not really clear while Inej is present at this meeting in the first place. Kaz commands her to keep watch from above, but he has also put a contingency plan in place that doesn’t even involve her, having bought out some of Geels’ men from under him. Why put Inej looking down from above if you’re not involving her in this plan? Her only role seems to be to watch, and she doesn’t even have a gun she could play sniper with. It just seems like a hamfisted way of getting Inej out of the danger zone so the author can have her as a passive spectator to the violence that follows.

This is my main problem with this chapter. It’s supposed to introduce us to Inej, but really, it’s introducing us to Kaz. Which is fine, but as he also has a POV in this book, it seems a bit lame that her own chapter is completely overtaken by showing off A. his smarts and B. how dangerous he is, despite being dismissed as a young ‘cripple’ by the likes of Geels.

Geels is also… not a greatly done villain. I get that he’s supposed to be small fry and is just a precursor to much more threatening opponents, but his every line of dialogue feels designed to show off how cool and Machiavellian Kaz is in comparison. He doesn’t seem like an actual hardened criminal who has underestimated his opponent, but a somewhat cheesy cartoon thug who unironically says things like “How are you going to wriggle your way out of this one?” with his full chest. The effect is comical, and not in a good way.

This chapter also shows off Kaz’s sadistic side in full display, which is probably one of the only interesting things about it, though it would be nice if we got any input at all from Inej on this… instead she completely vanishes from her own narration, to the point where she might as well not be present at all. Kaz has no qualms about tracking down his enemies’ weakness, such as lovers and family, and threatening them.

But the open horror and shock Geels reacts with seems incongruent, as if Kaz were the first up and coming gangster to actually consider threatening someone’s family or girlfriend. That seems pretty par for the course for violent criminals trying to claim territory and unnerve their rivals, yet Inej and Geels himself react as if no one had ever thought of sinking to the level of ‘do what I want or I’ll kill your loved ones’ until Kaz invented it. It just feels a bit silly and on the nose.

Really, my overarching issue with this chapter is that it’s not about Inej at all, it’s just an introduction to the Kaz Brekker fan club. I don’t automatically hate Kaz as a character, but his introduction is heavyhanded and comes at the cost of any establishing character moments for Inej. The most we get out of her is her brief pangs of sympathy for Bollinger despite his treachery, and her brief reference to her childhood. Maybe future Inej chapters will totally change this, but right now, it’s not a great sign of what’s to come.

I can think of about a hundred things Inej could have done or said this chapter to develop or establish her personality at all, but all we got was her briefly holding a knife to someone, and her briefly saying a prayer for Bollinger. I think it would have worked much better had this plan to catch Geels with his pants down been Inej’s invention or at least worked out between her and Kaz, rather than her just there to play lookout and admire how cool Kaz is.

Or at the very least, we could have seen the scene referenced where she searches the crime scene of the assassination, instead of that getting two lines and an entire chapter being devoted to what boils down to a pissing contest over which gangs gets rights to a certain neighborhood.

Next week, we will look at Kaz I.

#in review #six of crows #ya lit #inej ghafa

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rye-views · 3 years ago

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A Promised Land by Barack Obama. 8/10

I would recommend this book to my friends. I would reread this book.

There are certain things that Barack articulates that I’m thankful for. His over-optimism and feelings of eccentricity. I completely related to its isolating feelings even though it wasn’t the same situation and experience as mine. It’s nice to see something similar from someone different. I also liked his description of feeling everything in its entirety and how it was like a movie splice. I have felt this many times and it’s a beautiful way to describe it. I like how so much of what Barack says, thinks, and feels are so genuine and relatable. It's nice to see someone articulate and empathize this well, esp. from a man and a man in power.

I love learning that Michelle was disappointed by the situation caused by his choices at times. Other things were more important at the time and nice to see it be relevant.

It’s interesting to see the difference between this book and “Becoming.” They have different aims, but it still shows me a difference between a man and woman. I also notice that when men are described, it’s always physical. When it’s women, it’s more character and personality.

Crazy how intelligent and emotionally aware Barack is. When he stated how he couldn't just pick and choose the good things of Reverend Wright's church, I was like true and wow.

The things that Toot taught Barack is what someone should've taught me as I grew up.

Barack comparing the rides to Noah's Ark is amusing.

When he mentions translations of what the Big 4 are saying, I think about how we can't be straightforward in politics. Why not?

It took me forever to read this because I really wanted to absorb the knowledge. There's a lot of events that are covered and things I had no idea about. I love how this catalogues so much of history that were relevant to my lifetime.

Memorable Quotes: “gives even my roughest drafts too smooth a gloss and lends half-baked thoughts the mask of tidiness” “I needed to focus on only those things to come.” “Much of what I read I only dimly understood” “a bond between those who had once seemed far apart.” “Whatever it was, I knew I wasn’t ready.” “An America that could explain me.” “I suffered rejections and insults often enough to stop fearing them.” “Enthusiasm makes up for a host of deficiencies.” “Failure and want were all around you.” “It should have been enough.” “but my mother was never one to see hard work as anything but good.” “On top of my sorrow, I felt a great shame.” “There’s a physical feeling, a current of emotion that passes back and forth between you and the crowd, as if your lives and theirs are suddenly spliced together, like a movie reel, projecting backward and forward in time, and your voice creeps right up to the edge of cracking, because for an instant, you feel them deeply; you can see them whole. You’ve tapped into some collective spirit, a thing we all know and wish for – a sense of connection that overrides our differences and replaces them with a giant swell of possibility – and like all things that matter most, you know the moment is fleeting and that soon the spell will be broken.” “To be a workhorse not a show horse – that was my goal.” “I had become a mere conduit through which people might recognize the value of their own stories, their own worth, and share them with one another.” "Yes we can." “the personal really was political” “I had to listen to, and not just theorize about, what mattered to people.” “it wasn’t so much what he did as how he made you feel. Like anything was possible. Like the world was yours to remake.” “It’s hard, in retrospect, to understand why you did something stupid.” “In fact, you shouldn’t even count on my vote.” “What do you consider your place in history?” “I could take a punch. And I didn’t give up.” “I knew I could afford to be patient.” “but the only way for Daddy to disguise himself is if he has an operation to pin back his ears.” “Forgotten people and forgotten voices remained everywhere.” “the more troops would become targets of an enemy they often could not see and did not understand.” “The power to inspire is rare. Moments like this are rare. You think you may not be ready, that you’ll do it at more convenient time. But you don’t choose the time. The time chooses you.” “people were moved by emotion, not facts.” “Beneath the low-key person and deep convictions, he just plain liked the combat.” "defined not by what they are but what they can never be." "To the relief of his keepers, the bear became accustomed to captivity." "he understood better than most the complications of race, religion, and family, and how good and bad, love and hate, might be hopelessly tangled in the same heart" "She was one of those quiet heroes that we have all across America." "But I worry that my memories of that night, like so much else that's happened these past twelve years, are shaded by the images that I've seen, the footage of our family walking across the stage, the photographs of the crowds and lights and magnificent backdrops." "a keeper of values we'd once thought ordinary but had learned were more rare than we had ever imagined." ""It's going to be hard to get the public excited about food stamps and repaving roads," Axe said. "Not real sexy."" "This time I said nothing, admiring his occasional, almost endearing ability to state the obvious." "You must be under the mistaken impression that I care." "all of them unified only in their common desire to be somewhere else." "ready to die for eternal joy--or maybe just a taste of something better." "But make no mistake, it was weird." "the unspoken regrets." "my supporters lacked all conviction, while my opponents were full of passionate intensity." "Michelle was someone who started from the heart and not the head, from experience rather than abstractions." "I wanted to believe that the ability to connect was still there. My wife wasn't so sure." “The

audacity of hope.” "Sometimes your most important work involved the stuff nobody noticed." "forgotten under the accumulation of the new joys and paints that make up a life." "you learn to improvise to meet your objectives--or at least to cut your losses." "They would take for granted that their aunt was on the U.S. Supreme Court, shaping the life of a nation--as would kids across the country. Which was fine. That's what progress was like." "Did they miss the rhythms of ordinary life? Were they lonely? Did they sometimes feel a jolt in their heart and wonder how it was that they had ended up where they were?" "I reminded myself that every president felt saddled with the previous administration's choices and mistakes, that 90 percent of the job was navigating inherited problems and unanticipated crises. Only if you did that well enough, with discipline and purpose, did you get a real shot at shaping the future." "Was it possible that abstract principles and high-minded ideals were and always would be nothing more than a pretense, a palliative, a way to beat back despair, but no match for the more primal urges that really moved us, so that no matter what we said or did, history was sure to run along its predetermined course, an endless cycle of fear, hunger and conflict, dominance and weakness?" "meant to be a reminder--in a place premised on hate and intolerance--of the common humanity we share." "A man making up for things." "For war was contradiction, as was the history of America." "To be known. To be heard. To have one's unique identity recognized and seen as worthy. It was a universal human desire" "pleasures that cost nothing, belonged to no one, and were accessible to all." "I suppose, when the world slows down, your strivings get pushed to the back of your mind." "whether in my seeming calm as crises piled up, my insistence that everything would work out in the end, I was really just protecting my self--and contributing to her loneliness." "It was a lonely thought at a lonely time." "You never looked as smart as the ex-president did on the sidelines." "Get exposed to other people's truths, I thought, and attitudes change." "It wasn't often, I thought, that a true act of conscience is recognized that way." "their struggles and resentments troubling but remote." "are mere conduits for the deep, relentless currents of the times or whether we're at least partly the authors of what's to come." "contemplating the knife's edge between perceived success and potential catastrophe" "daily, unheralded acts of people who weren't seeking attention but simply knew what they were doing and did it with pride." "She makes me better as a person and better on the page."

#a promised land #promised land #barack obama #book #review #commentary #rye-views #8

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juminly · 4 years ago

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Hi hi dear! Hope you are doing well☺❤🌻 After i saw your matchup i couldn't resist asking for one! ☺🌻❤ can i pretty please request an Ikevamp match up ☺ i am super curious to see which vampy boi u think would suit me best hehe 🌻thank a million! Sending ya lots o hugs🌻☺ hope ya keeping safe and warm❤

The Art of Love & War

Context: Finding yourself in an unknown place AND back in time wasn’t an easy experience for you. It was only natural for you to be overtaken by a strong sense of unease because of the unfamiliarity of your surroundings. A mansion full of so-called vampires, a bunch of historical figures that you’ve read so much about but were now all before you, in the flesh. It was a lot to take in and no one could blame you for keeping to yourself and isolating yourself from others (unless you were coaxed by the gentle Comte [kinda forced by Sebastian] otherwise).

Fitness has always been something that you indulged in and engaging in physical activity allowed you to focus solely on what your body is doing, pushing away where your thoughts would usually wander (sometimes unnecessarily in very dark paths, considering your situation).

It was not safe for a woman to go about in the city all alone, let alone, jogging and running which is something unspoken of during those times. Sebastian knew what you were doing and could only think of one way to remedy this situation without causing any inconvenience to your routine.

One day, you woke up at the crack of dawn to find Napoleon leaning on the grand door of your mansion, blocking your exit.

“Bonjour petite nunuche, Sebastian and Le Comte have taken it upon themselves to bestow on me quite an interesting chore. They believe I’m spending way too much time sleeping. I hope you’re worth the sleep I’m wasting on you.”

He had no intention of sounding harsh but his teasing was meant to get a reaction out of you. And they certainly did. Those words were enough to earn him some snarky remarks from you and it earned you a most glorious smile on Napoleon’s face. He knew that there was much more to find under that shy exterior of yours.

Sebastian couldn’t think of anyone else who would be able to keep up with you but Napoleon. Jean was also a candidate but considering his state of mind, it would take some time before he even agrees to be anywhere near you.

Your relationship started with the morning jogs that he joined you on. He was unfamiliar with the notion of women engaging in strenuous physical activity and he was definitely impressed and curious to know more about your time.

He was the yin to your yang, his personality not necessarily opposing yours, but complimenting it, filling in the gaps that closed the distance between you. His extroverted and easy-going nature was more than enough to get you to loosen up around him, almost too easily.

Napoleon is an extremely charming man and was eloquent, adept enough to make you feel at ease around him. You spent your mornings talking about your time, how your life was like, how invested you are in your studies, how you enjoyed working out and allocated enough time to do the things that you loved.

You never seemed to notice it but his eyes would shine with admiration the more he got you to talk about yourself. Your ambitions in life, your intelligence and your wit unconsciously made him grow very fond of you.

Even though he led a life full of bloodshed, fear and treachery, he saw in you the peace and the beauty of simplicity that he ached for. He felt that maybe, if he were able to be your friend only for a short period of time, he might be able to live a life that he would be satisfied with (one where he wouldn’t have to escape through long hours of sleep).

He found your sense of humour endearing and he was one of the few to laugh at your jokes (along with Arthur, Dazai, Leonardo and even Theodorus sometimes). You certainly brought more life to the mansion, especially when you would sometimes butt heads with Theo, who would take your sarcastic demeanor as a challenge. (that man is just to easy to rile up)

Having evaluated your physical capabilities, Napoleon deemed it fit to teach you fencing and invited you to join him and Jean during their sparring session. It was challenging, fun and extremely exciting and the adrenaline rushing through your blood was like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. You found a new passion and the smile drawn on your face was one of pure contentment (and Napoleon found it absolutely ravishing).

The blood would rush to your face, sweat dripping from your forehead and your cheeks turned tomato red when the other two men would chuckle and seem like they didn’t even lift a finger. Napoleon often teased you about it and would say “Nunuche, your cheeks look red enough to bite.” (and he secretly did want to kiss them and nibble on them)

Leon couldn’t help but notice the type of food that you ate and he was practically appalled. The man was on a mission to feed you and stuff you, especially after your intense training together. And when he discovered how much of a good cook you were, he was awfully confused. “How is it that a woman of your talent for food cannot feed herself properly? What a nunuche you are.”

If you weren’t spending time together in the training room, you were both most probably in the kitchen, making a mess that Sebastian was going to have a hard time cleaning up on his own. The residents were more than happy that you and Leon spent so much time bonding in the kitchen and cooking together (they got lots of yummy food without even asking for any).

Whenever Leon wasn’t around, Jean was your sparring partner. He was your silent friend and you definitely enjoyed his presence. Even as the man was burdened with such somberness, he was a soothing presence and he appreciated your company as well.

For some reason, Leon feels his chest tighten whenever he sees how close you’ve gotten to his dear friend, Jean. He knows that there is nothing between the two of you but he can’t help but feel a bit jealous. That was when he realized he began developing romantic feelings for you.

He ended up sparring with Jean and the winner would get a kiss from you. In the middle of the fight, he realized that he was on edge and maybe a bit too aggressive. In that moment of hesitation, Jean was able to win (and whispered something in your ear while he left the training room).

Leon was completely unfazed until you meekly walked closer to him, earning you a sly comment “What’s wrong? Has the thought of kissing Jean scared you, nunuche?”. You completely wiped off the smirk off his face when you kissed his cheek and walked away, saying. “Winner decides what to do with their prize. Jean was feeling generous today.”

When Leon noticed that you were cooped up in the mansion for too long without exploring Paris, he took it upon himself to show you around: tasting local delicacies, visiting local monuments and recounting tales of the past.

During your outing, you discovered his side-job which was teaching the less-fortunate children and orphans in Paris. It was a bit hard for you to hold your tears back when you saw their eyes shining with excitement and fascination as Napoleon and Isaac took the time to teach them about the world and give them the knowledge that they needed to survive.

The children loved having you around, looking up to you as their “older sister”, confiding in you and looking for comfort whenever they needed it. They would sometimes come to you for hugs and even take short naps in your arms because they felt very comfortable being near you.

You treated them as equals and not as children (you didn’t necessarily have to be good at dealing with children to be able to support them), just like Napoleon and Isaac did, which made them very fond of you and also the assistant teacher! (Leon would demonstrate how to spar with you and showing the children, both the boys and the girls, how to defend themselves)

Napoleon would often watch you, without you noticing (but Isaac did notice it and even Jean): whenever you teased and spoke to Arthur, the gentle way you dealt with the children. Appreciation for beauty and he saw you as a flower in full bloom that was hiding in the shadows. He wanted to see you under the bright light of day and marvel at how special you are.

During one of your lessons with the children, it was pouring cats and dogs and there was absolutely no way you would make it to the mansion without getting soaked and sick. Renting the only double room available in a nearby hotel, you decided to spend the night there until the rain subsided.

Your body was shivering almost violently from the cold as Leon tended to the fireplace. He gave you his back while you stripped out of your damp clothes, as he ordered you to (while he also did the same [only removing his top though]). He gathered the cover of his bed and turned around with his eyes closed, wrapping it around you to cover your body and pulled you against his body. He held you tightly in his arms, and hummed in approval “Les petits ont raison. Your embrace is quite delightful.” (that was more than enough to make you turn beet red)

The next day, the sun was up and illuminating your room, announcing that it was time for you to head back home. Unknowing of Leon’s bad habit, you sat on the edge of his bed and nudged his shoulder to wake him up, only to have him grip your shoulders and pull you down for an unexpected kiss.

Zeta: *squeals and turns red* What was that? Leon: Hm? That was a kiss. Zeta: I know what a kiss is, Leon! What was that for?

Leon: It’s a sign of love and affection, ma belle.

Zeta: ... what exactly are you trying to say?

Leon: Exactly what you think I am.

He sits up and pulls you in for another kiss, a bit longer and a lot sweeter. He cradled your face so gently and kissed you with a tenderness that brought tears to your eyes. “Allons-y, mon amour. I’ll make sure you have the thermae all to yourself today.”

Leon was never the type to be clingy but he has a strong protective streak, without being overbearing either. He doesn’t have to be with you 24/7 but he likes to be informed of your whereabouts, to make sure that you are safe and sound.

Considering his past, you couldn’t really blame him for being the way that he is and whenever he tried to apologize to you, shutting him up with a kiss would be the best way to make his heart flutter with happiness. You calmed him and reassured him that there was nothing for him to worry about.

Public Display of Affection is his thing and he likes and wants everyone to know that he is yours and you are his. You are his Queen and this man might have ruled France back in the day, but you were much mightier than he was, since you ruled his heart.

He’ll kiss you every single time he’ll get the chance: on your cheek, your hands, your hair and sneak a kiss on your lips too (especially when he wants to see that gorgeous blush on your cheeks).

NSFW Ahead ~

He mostly sweet talks when you’re in bed but says the dirtiest things in the most eloquent way which makes you sometimes giggle out of shyness.

Your first time together, Leon kissed, licked, nipped, explored and tasted every inch of your body before claiming you. He was gentle as he made love to you (and his body lightly trembled with the height of his emotions).

He likes to be playful with you, even when you are getting down and dirty so he sometimes tickles you out of nowhere and ends up laughing together before his fingers find their way between your legs, making you gasp and moan for him.

He enjoys teasing you to no end and makes you say and demand the things you want him to do for you before he actually does them. The sight of you frustrated, trembling and almost furious for his touch is absolutely mesmerizing.

He likes spending some quality time with you in the thermae. Just enjoying the warmth of the water and the vapor cleansing your skin. He would massage your body and help you wash and ask you to do the same for him. He would definitely sneak in a few kisses here and there (and would sometimes turn into heavy make-out sessions or a bit more than that). However, he simply enjoys being physically intimate with you (even without the sex).

Leon doesn’t really moan in bed but his soft grunts and groans are very arousing and enough to make you dripping wet when you’re servicing him.

He could spend the entire night with his head between your legs. He relishes the taste of you and the beautiful sounds that you make.

His favourite place to bite you: your inner thighs and wrists (so you can watch him as he feeds on you and see how much he needs you).

He growls at you whenever you try to cover your mouth or bite your lips, depriving him from hearing the moans ripping from your throat. Your pleasure fuels his so you will absolutely succumb to your desires and his needs.

You sometimes feel like he does it on purpose so that the other residents can hear you and make them know that he is the one responsible for making you lose your wits.

Favourite position

In front of a mirror: he likes to take you from the back while holding you up from your waist so he can have easy access to your neck and also turn your face around for a kiss and stimulate your breasts and clit with his hands. When you’re laying on your back: he loves locking eyes with you, seeing every single reaction you make with each touch of his hand and every thrust that he makes. He likes to have your legs over his shoulders so that he can sink deep into you and stimulate your sensitive nub with his thumb, driving you over the edge multiple times and make you tremble before he reaches his own climax.

He has the most irritating and beautiful smirk on his face when you have trouble walking around the mansion or have to excuse yourself from fencing practice.

His absolute weaknesses:

When you call out his name (whether you’re moaning, whining or just asking for his touch). He adores you more than anything and knowing, feeling and seeing how much you need him and love him in return is enough to make him lose control.

When you initiate physical contact and show any sign of neediness, clinginess, desire/yearning. He intentionally drives you into a state of frustration so that he’s able to see how you would be if you were to take things into your own hands, throw him on the bed and just claim him.

He’s a huge cuddlebug after sex and whispers the sweetest things in your ears before he falls asleep with you cradled in his arms. Your warmth is his safe haven.

Kinks: mirror sex, overstimulation, bondage (mostly blindfolding you and tying your wrist over your head), sensory stimulation (using feathers, arousing your senses with heat and cold [example: ice or melted chocolate]), edging, outdoor sex (where you could get caught).

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #matchup #ask #request #ikemen #otome #ikemen series

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purplehairedwonder · 4 years ago

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Inside a Broken Dream Chapter 3

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Gen, briefest hint of Lawlu that you can ignore Words: 3325 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Penguin, Jean Bart, Donquixote Doflamingo, Smoker, Tashigi Note: Story title comes from the Vertical Horizon song “Shackled.” Character and relationship tags reflect the current chapter. Obviously this is canon-divergent ;)

Summary: Two years after Wano, peace on the Grand Line is fragile. Trafalgar Law and the Heart Pirates are doing their best to help maintain the peace, but the return of a figure from Law’s past might shatter the balance of power entirely.

Previous chapters: 1 | 2

Read also at AO3 / FF.N

“White Chase-ya?”

Smoker’s eyes flicked in Law’s direction, and his lips thinned into a line. “Law.”

Law frowned. “What are you doing here?”

Smoker grimaced and leaned back against the wall of his cell. The Seastone shackles around his wrists clanked with his movements. “Somehow, I keep getting caught up in your shit with Joker.”

Law snorted despite himself. He supposed it was a bit of déjà vu, calling back to being locked up on Punk Hazard. Too bad Law was restrained with actual Seastone this time.

Penguin was looking between Law and Smoker, confused, but he clearly knew he wouldn’t get an explanation so instead asked, “Did Akainu really let Doflamingo out of Impel Down and give him a ship to go after Captain?”

Smoker grunted. “Is that what he said?”

Jean Bart nodded. “He also said he wasn’t interested in running errands for Akainu.”

“That much is true, anyway,” Smoker replied. His tone made it eminently clear that he was unhappy to be having this conversation with three pirates—but he answered anyway.

“What do you mean?”

“Sakazuki did want to go after Law,” he said, nodding in Law’s direction. “And after Dressrosa, he thought he could use Doflamingo to do it.”

Had Law had the energy, he would have straightened at that. As it was, he narrowed his eyes. “What does he know about Dressrosa?”

Law knew Penguin and Jean Bart were watching him—he’d been intentionally vague about what had gone on there and why, though Penguin knew far more than most of the Heart Pirates about Law’s history with the former Warlord, and he’d rarely mentioned it since. At the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care. The last thing he wanted was his history with Doflamingo to become common knowledge. Sengoku knew because of his connection to Cora-san, but Law got the impression the man was content in his retirement to let things lie in his adopted son’s memory. Akainu, though… The less that son of a bitch knew about Law, the better.

Smoker appraised him from his cell before speaking. “Whatever Fujitora reported, I assume.”

Of course. Though he wouldn’t know the details of the backstory, Fujitora had witnessed enough to know there was a history there—one that was intensely personal on both sides. That could have been enough for Akainu.

Law let out a breath. “Right.”

“Captain?” Penguin asked quietly, but Law shook his head. Penguin frowned but nodded.

“Why the sudden interest in the Captain?” Jean Bart asked. “He’s been an Emperor for two years now.”

Smoker shifted, seemingly looking for a more comfortable position. “It’s not sudden. Sakazuki’s had it in for you since you saved Straw Hat Luffy at Marineford,” he replied, addressing Law directly. “He took that as a personal insult. And then you pulled that stunt to become a Warlord and made an alliance with the rubber idiot before proceeding to completely upend the status quo on the Grand Line.” He raised an eyebrow. “Need I go on?”

“I broke the gears,” Law had said when he’d destroyed the SAD production on Punk Hazard. And the effects had certainly avalanched after that, though Law hadn’t necessarily expected to see it.

“I’m sure he’s thrilled the alliance hasn’t ended either,” Law muttered.

Law had known that he was in this alliance for the long haul the morning after Doflamingo’s fall. Law had been sitting, his body broken and spirit afloat, among the drooping sunflowers as the sun rose over the toy soldier’s cabin. Luffy, who Law thought had been sleeping off his injuries, had sat down next to him with a murmured “Torao” and had gently entwined their fingers. Law had leaned into him in silent response. Thank you. Why am I alive? What do I do now? all running through his mind. Luffy had tightened his grip on Law’s hand, anchoring him.

“He knew targeting you would draw Straw Hat’s attention,” Smoker confirmed. “He was counting on it.”

“Is he trying to start a war?” Penguin demanded, aghast.

“The closer Straw Hat comes to finding Laugh Tale, the more anxious he gets. He’ll take any chance to stop that from happening.” Smoker shrugged. “Though it’s moot now; Doflamingo screwed Sakazuki over.”

“Which brings us back to the Captain’s original question: How do you figure into this, Smoker?” Jean Bart asked, crossing his arms. Law belatedly noticed that Jean Bart had shackles around his wrists as well, though they were of the regular sort since he wasn’t a Fruit user. A quick glance confirmed Penguin did too.

“I was assigned to lead the mission. Doflamingo was chained with so much Seastone I could barely get near him, and he was guarded by multiple soldiers at all times. He was supposed to be an asset, nothing more.”

Law raised an eyebrow, lips twitching. “You were coming to take me on, White Chase-ya?” Their last fight hadn’t gone particularly well for Smoker, though he had saved Law’s life by recovering his heart from Vergo. Law would always hate the Marines after what had happened to Flevance, but Smoker was one he grudgingly respected. Still. “Should I be offended that I didn’t even warrant an admiral’s attention?”

Smoker replied with an unimpressed look. “The admirals have been spread thin over the last two years, and you know it.” It was true; since Doflamingo’s fall and the end of his underworld empire, the dissolution of the Warlords, and Kaido’s defeat, the admirals had had their work cut out for them keeping the peace.

“Even so, attacking an Emperor without an admiral—” Jean Bart began.

“And with a former Warlord on board,” Penguin added helpfully.

“—seems like a mission that should be led by an admiral,” Jean Bart finished.

Law found himself wondering if Akainu sent Smoker because he had history with Law… and Straw Hat-ya.

Smoker sighed. “Like I said, its moot now anyway.”

“Because Doflamingo escaped,” Law supplied.

“Once we approached your territory, he was released from the strongest Seastone restraints with the understanding he’d be shot on the spot with a Seastone bullet if he pulled anything.”

Law grimaced. Idiots.

“Oh, so it’s your fault Captain got shot,” Penguin snapped. “Always so competent, you Marines.”

Smoker startled, turning to examine Law. Law gestured weakly at his wound, his shackles clinking. “Seastone bullet lodged in my shoulder.” His lips curled. “Thanks for that.”

“That explains a lot,” Smoker mumbled before raising his voice. “You’re right.” He said it as if it took a great amount of effort to make the concession. It probably did. “He took control of the ship almost immediately. He overwhelmed us, and he forced my men to cuff me, knowing I wouldn’t fight them.” His voice tightened as he spoke, barely containing his fury at the memory.

Something was still bothering Law. “Where’s your number two? The swordswoman.”

Smoker’s expression darkened. “He’s got her on guard duty. She was watching me when he attacked you.”

That explained why Law hadn’t seen either of them earlier; Doflamingo likely hadn’t wanted to risk losing any measure of control of the situation by putting familiar faces in the battle.

“Has Doflamingo said what he wants?” Jean Bart asked after a quiet moment, eyes flicking to Law before returning to Smoker.

Smoker shook his head before landing his stare flatly on Law. “He just called it Family business.”

-----

Law jerked into full consciousness, hissing as his shoulder flared and blinking as the brig door opened and light once more flooded the dim room. After the conversation with Smoker, the four men had fallen into an uncomfortable silence. Law had felt drained—and by more than just the excessive amounts of Seastone he was being exposed to.

At some point, night had fallen—the Heart Pirates’ confrontation with Doflamingo had happened near dusk, and Law had apparently been out for several hours after that—though the darkened brig gave little indication of the time of day. Law had slumped back against the wall in the least painful position he could manage and had drifted in and out of wakefulness, familiar dreams of gunshots, black feathers, blood, and laughter never far from the back of his eyelids.

Two Marines entered the brig and stopped in front of Law’s cell. Law watched as they opened the door and stepped inside toward him. Despite the movements Doflamingo’s strings were forcing them to make, they looked back toward Smoker.

“V-vice Admiral,” the second Marine muttered. “We can’t—”

“I know,” Smoker gritted out. “Don’t blame yourselves. Focus on staying alive now to fight back later.”

“Yessir,” both men agreed before returning their attention to Law.

Law inhaled sharply and his vision spun as the Marines hauled him to his feet.

“Captain!” Penguin called as the Marines pushed Law out of his cell and toward the door. Law didn’t resist; he didn’t have the strength to with the Seastone still in his shoulder. “Where are you taking him?”

They all knew the answer to that question. “Doflamingo wants to see him,” the first Marine said in unneeded confirmation.

“It’s fine, Penguin,” Law said over his shoulder. “He wants me alive.” For how long, Law didn’t know. But he could use this chance to do some reconnaissance—anything was better than just sitting in that cell helplessly.

“But—”

“Penguin.” That was Jean Bart. Law was, not for the first time since Sabaody, thankful for the former captain’s calm and presence of mind; it had made him an instantly popular presence on the Polar Tang, and Law had always taken his counsel, when offered, seriously. “He knows.”

As the brig door swung shut, Law caught a glimpse of Penguin’s worried look and Jean Bart’s level, if somber, stare.

Law was surprised when the Marines steered him up some stairs then into a bathroom. “He told us to tell you to clean yourself up,” the second Marine said, nodding to the small bathroom. The Marines left Law alone in the bathroom, waiting outside.

For a moment, irritation at being underestimated flooded through Law’s veins, but it quickly diminished as he realized there wasn’t much he could do from here—the Seastone was suppressing his powers and draining his strength, and the small window wasn’t big enough for Law to fit through; and even if he could have fit through the window, where would he go? They were on a ship in the middle of the ocean, and Law was an anchor. Not to mention, two of Law’s men were still prisoners in the brig, and he wouldn’t leave without them.

Law took the opportunity to relieve himself then checked his pockets—an awkward task with his restraints. He sighed in relief when he found his surgical kit; the Marines must not have gone through his pockets once he was taken captive—or Doflamingo hadn’t made them do so. His mistake. With this, Law could remove the Seastone bullet from his shoulder and alleviate its worst effects. Or Penguin could. He hoped.

Returning the kit to his pocket, Law turned on the faucet and splashed some water in his face. He dared a glance into the mirror and winced. His features were (unsurprisingly) more drawn than usual, and though his navy shirt was dark enough to disguise much of the blood, there was still an obvious dark stain on the shoulder. He wet one of the towels then gently pulled the cloth of his shirt away from the skin, wincing when the dried blood caused it to stick. Once he’d separated the fabric from his skin, he took the damp towel and gently cleaned off as much of the blood as he could. It was awkward with his restricted wrists, but he managed as best he could. As the blood came away, the purpling of the skin became obvious around the bullet wound. He prodded around the wound with his fingers, grimacing at its tenderness.

There was a knock at the door. “All right, Trafalgar. Let’s go.”

With a weary sigh, Law splashed another handful of water in his face then dried off with a clean towel. He opened the door and allowed the Marines to push him forward down the hall again. He knew when to pick his battles, and this was not one of those times. Law did his best to make a mental map of the ship and number of Marines he saw, though his foggy mind wasn’t making that an easy task.

Eventually, Law was directed onto the ship’s deck. Law squinted at the morning sunlight, which was a stark contrast to the dim brig. He stumbled slightly, and the Marines shoved him forward. Law pressed his lips into a thin line but said nothing. Once his eyes adjusted, he saw he was been directed toward a small table with two chairs—one predictably occupied by Doflamingo. He was eating breakfast as Smoker’s number two was forced to stand behind him as a bodyguard. Law could practically feel the anger radiating off her, which he knew Doflamingo was basking in.

As Law approached, Doflamingo looked up and smirked. He gestured toward the empty chair across from him, and, when Law was too slow in taking it, twitched his fingers so Law’s Marine escorts pushed him down by the shoulders. Law ground his teeth against the jolt of fresh pain that radiated down his arm and through his chest but refused to give the other man the satisfaction of making a sound. Doflamingo’s smirk widened anyway. After dismissing the Marines with the wave of a hand, Doflamingo turned his full attention to Law.

“You know Captain Tashigi, don’t you, Law?” he said, nodding to the woman behind him. Her eyes flicked to Law and softened slightly before hardening again.

“We’ve met.”

“Hm. On Punk Hazard, wasn’t it?”

Doflamingo knew full well that was the case, so Law didn’t dignify the question with a response.

“Still delightful company, I see,” Doflamingo said, raising an eyebrow. “Some things never change, eh, Law?”

“My apologies,” Law drawled. “The Seastone bullet in my shoulder seems to be suppressing my manners as well as my Fruit.”

Doflamingo’s lips turned upward, apparently pleased at the response. “Fufufu. You must be hungry. Eat,” he directed, nodding toward the food on the table. No bread, Law noted idly.

Law didn’t move. Doflamingo sighed dramatically. “If I were going to kill you, Law, I wouldn’t have only shot you in the shoulder yesterday.” A twitch of the lips. “Besides, is poison really my style?”

Fine.

Still, Law raised his shackled wrists wordlessly, indicating how awkward it would be to eat with the restraints on.

Amused, Doflamingo twitched his fingers, and one of the Marine guards from earlier came forward. He brandished a key and unlocked the shackle on Law’s right wrist. Law let out a relieved breath before he could stop himself, but the relief was short-lived as he realized the Marine was locking the free shackle to the chair; Law’s left arm—the unwounded one—was essentially useless. If he was going to eat, he’d have to use his wounded arm.

Law clenched his jaw, biting down on the words he’d like to spit at the other man, as Doflamingo chuckled. “Fufufu. You knew it wasn’t going to be that easy, Law. Now eat.”

Doing his best to ignore the intent gaze of the other man, Law resorted to serving himself from the dishes closest to him so he wouldn’t need to move his arm too much. He ended up with some eggs and fruit. He blinked in surprise when another Marine poured coffee into the mug in front of him. Doing his best to control the trembling in his arm, he gripped the mug and took a tentative sip to test the heat of the drink. It was tolerable, so he took a larger sip. Blessed caffeine. It helped clear the fog in his mind the tiniest bit.

Law picked, one-handed, at the food on his plate and took sips of coffee as he waited for Doflamingo to get to whatever it was that he wanted. He’d just popped a strawberry in his mouth when the other man finally spoke.

“I told you once that I would have been happy to settle things between us over drinks,” Doflamingo said. “Do you remember?”

Law paused, then swallowed the food. He looked up at Doflamingo, who had steepled his fingers and was staring at Law over them. Despite everything that had happened—despite how much stronger Law was now—that gaze still made Law feel ten years old.

“As I recall,” Law replied coolly, “Fujitora was holding me down with his gravity force after you’d shot me with your bullet strings.” He inclined his head. “But yes, I do remember.”

“I meant it, you know. You’re Family. We all were waiting for you to return to your rightful place.”

Law snorted derisively, memories of waking up chained to the Heart Throne after being shot with lead bullets bouncing around the back of his mind. “Is that what we’re doing here? Making up for lost time?” His eyes narrowed. “It’s hard to take you seriously when—” Law found himself suddenly without words as he thought about the previous day—about finding the smoldering wreck of Shachi’s ship and fighting to stop Shachi’s internal bleeding as he operated on his friend, about that damn gun—so just gestured at his shoulder with his free hand. He could feel sharp, fiery anger coursing under his skin, but the numbing effect of the Seastone doused it almost as quickly as it came on, leaving Law feeling cold and hollow.

“You know what kind of Family we are.”

Law distantly noted the use of the present tense but didn’t dwell on it. “And that’s why I never came back.”

Doflamingo was uncharacteristically silent for several moments before he finally spoke. “There’s been something I’ve been wondering since you came to Dressrosa, Law.”

Law inclined his head, waited.

“Where were you that night? Coraz- Rosinante said you were out of the Birdcage. But you weren’t, were you?”

Law blinked, startled by the question—and by Doflamingo’s use of his brother’s name. Whatever he’d been expecting the other man to say, that wasn’t it. He couldn’t read the look on Doflamingo’s face either. Law took a breath, collecting himself—what did it matter if he told him now?

“No, I wasn’t.” He could still feel snowflakes on his eyelashes and the walls of the treasure chest pressing in on him… “Cora-san put me in one of the treasure chests.” His lips twisted into an expression he knew was ugly. “I heard everything.”

Including Doflamingo declaring Law would be taught to die for him. It had haunted Law for years that, had he not heard those words and had the Family recovered him, he probably would have died for Doflamingo. Happily. For all the hatred Law carried for the man in front of him, he’d loved him once, too. The Family had called him a traitor when he put his vengeance plan into motion, but Law had been the one betrayed on Minion Island. He still woke up shaking and nauseated from nightmares in which he performed the Eternal Youth Operation, dying with a smile on his face for the man who’d murdered his savior.

Doflamingo stared at him for a long, tense moment as though placing Law into his memories of that night. It was… disconcerting. Then he nodded. “We never checked the chests.”

“No,” Law agreed.

Silence fell once more. Doflamingo continued to study Law across the table while Law tried not to think about getting out of the chest and walking away from the Family, sobbing soundlessly until he wasn’t.

Finally, Doflamingo seemed to shake himself out of whatever he was thinking and turned back to his involuntary bodyguard. “Take him back to the brig, would you, Captain Tashigi?”

#Caitlin's fic #One Piece fanfiction #One Piece #One Piece fic #Trafalgar Law #Heart Pirates #Donquixote Doflamingo

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into-crazy · 5 years ago

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Man Under the Makeup Pt. 3

Arthur Fleck/Joker x Female Reader series

Warnings- Cursing, mention of carrying a weapon for protection, sad conversation

You can find the other parts RIGHT HERE and through the “Man Under the Makeup” tag lovelies!💘

Come 6pm, you were strolling to meet up with Arthur. Around this time, the sun normally sets, allowing you to walk just before the darkness of the night hits. How thoughtful of him not to have you roaming around too late. He of anyone would know these streets, after all. Although you can handle yourself, never leaving your home without your blade and some mase.

Few people seem to be making their way home after a grind filled day. Also those, who for a fact are heading straight to the bar. Judging by their distressed faces, they're in for a large amount of drinks throughout the night.

You're going through the route you normally take for work, keeping an eye out. Walking around the large piles of garbage scattered on some parts of the side walk. Covering your nose from the wretched odors which littered the air. These streets were disgusting! No wonder everyone in the city is pissed.

As you're nearing the spot you and Arthur encountered, you find him standing there waiting. Still dressed and with make on, Joker stands there with a flower bouquet. You find it quite cute how he's patiently awaiting your arrival.

"Y/n, you made it!" He starts excitedly.

"Of course I have," you reply, "why wouldn't I? Hope I haven't kept you waiting too long."

He offers you the flowers. "Not at all."

"For me? Why, thank you." Taking the bouquet made of various roses and lilies, you catch glimpse over at the crew he has behind him. About 15 members, gathered a few feet back. "You brought your men, I see."

"I did," he nods in their direction, "they're just for precaution. I got a lot a heat on me these days." He states anxiously shifting the weight between his slender legs.

"So I've heard." You reply waving at the crew who acknowledge your arrival. It's only polite to greet those who would be joining you, even if it's from a stretch away.

"I'll have them keep their distance. They won't interfere with our time." He assures pushing his green hair back.

"Oh no worries," you assure, "I have no issues with it."

The place wasn't far from where you'd met. It was a nice, quiet bistro. Well, maybe it was peaceful right now considering everyone left spooked when you and Joker walked in. His men also made sure the staff wouldn't try to leave or call the cops. So you weren't surprised when your waiter was practically trembling coming over to your table every now and then.

"So, Joker," you emphasize the name, "seems like you've made quite the image for yourself."

He chuckles, "It appears so. Ya know you don't have to call me that, right? We're by ourselves over here." Hinting towards his crew behind him- sat on the complete opposite side of the small eatery. They were doing their own thing, giving you both your respective privacy. Seated directly across him in the corner of the place. So you felt comfortable no one was eavesdropping in on your conversation.

"I'm aware," you tell him, "I'm simply addressing your new persona." Smiling, you take a sip of your drink.

"Right," he adds, "I've got so much to tell you."

"Hm, clearly." You reply removing your large coat, as it was increasingly warmer indoors. Revealing a red satin dress that hugged your body nicely.

"Wow." He was momentarily at a loss for words. "I gotta say, you look amazing my dear." Taking your sight in, admiring the beauty beaming off you. Not eyeing you like a hungry dog waiting for a treat- but genuinely appreciating what he's seeing. You're gorgeous inside and out, he couldn't help but think why you had agreed to dinner with him. Dressed up all so nicely, for him. "Red is definitely your color."

"I'm flattered," you accept his admiration, cheeks growing hot with delight. "You're quite charming yourself, Mr. J."

"Charming? Me?" He questions the word, seemingly confused. Unable to grasp the concept of anyone ever thinking such. He's been deemed the worst insults, in addition to horrifying and intimidating. But charming? And what about.. Mr. J? Oh, he can't deny loving the sound of that.

"Yes, you are. It's- you're different and I like it." You tell him. "But I have to ask, what happened since the last time I saw you?"

He sighs placing his hand on the table. "See before, I've got tired of being pushed around and stepped on. People are so awful, I finally hit my breaking point. This city's lost it's way. So I decided to do something.. differently."

"And what is that?" You give him your full attention as the topic becomes more serious.

"To show the people of this city what life really is." He amusingly states. "See, most haven't quite gotten it yet. They believe I'm doing it for a change in who's running the city. That I'm going to fix everything that's wrong." The sarcasm in his tone may try to sound amusing, but his eyes show something else. His eyes are dark with that last statement. Cold and dark.

"And you're not?" Briefly pondering his words. "No. No, you aren't." You say, shaking your head slightly.

"W-what was that?" He asks scanning your face.

"Of course that's what they believe. It's what they want, right? Some bold new guy comes around to make a difference. But from my perspective, that's not your intention."

He taps his fingers on the table, fighting the urge of a laughing fit. Rising up from the pit of his stomach- catching it in his throat, before it has a chance to emerge. "And m-may I ask what you think?"

"I haven't figured it out yet," you start, "but I know fixing the city isn't the case. The riots, the mobs, the brutality- which happen to be chaos you helped reign. I understand that the wealthy politicians and citizens have their fair part in it, too. But one does not simply seek for so called better change, when that's how they choose to take a course of action."

Joker adjusts himself so now he's leaning forward on the table. Closer to you, trying to show he's not intimidated. "That's a good observation," he acknowledges, "and it's got you wondering the real reason, right?"

"Yes," you reply softly. "Look, I'm not judging. I'm interested is all."

He embraces your curiosity. "I want to show them the funny side of the bigger picture. The world.. this terrible city, this life we're living-" he pauses, "It's a joke. And the sooner people realize that, the happier they could be. It's all simply for laughs, my dear." Shrugging his shoulders at the last statement.

All for laughs? Somehow you thought that wasn't entirely it.

Something else had to have happened. How could a man's eyes that once carried so much emotion go completely dark? Grasping the fact he wasn't telling you entirely why. Maybe it was this "Joker" persona, currently preventing him from letting you in. You'd have to ask these questions when you're speaking entirely to Arthur.

"And to make that work, you had to change?" You recall. "Adopt a new identity?"

"Yeah," he confirms. "As Arthur, I could never have it off. They wouldn't take me seriously and use everything to their knowledge against me- Gotham PD, politicians, those that disagree. But not with the Joker."

"No one knows who the Joker is," you almost whisper looking down at the table. If only the rest of the world could see him as you've seen him- still see him. Maybe if everyone wasn't so shitty with sticks fully up their asses, then perhaps they could've seen the man you thought him to be. Could things have turned out differently? Honestly, who knows.

"No one," he adds, "accept you." He brings your face back up to his- which is intensely close. The heat of his body enticing you further into him. The scent of cigarette smoke and soap strong on him. Gazing onto his bright red lips, you thought he was going to kiss you.

Only to be left surprised when he quickly shys back, leaving you in a bit of a haze. He sits completely back in his seat- seemingly entertained with your response to his withdrawal. You scold him for it.

"Nice to see you're so interested." He implies with a short laugh, flashing a killer grin.

Embarrassed, you lean back into the bar seat. Damn him. How could he make you feel so vulnerable when you'd least expect it? Along with the audacity to gloat about it with his ridiculously gorgeous smile. He knows. He knows exactly what he's doing.

"What makes you so sure of that?" You playfully question him crossing your arms.

"Well for one," he states, "you agreed to meet up with me."

"Yeah, and I was half expecting a man with a lot less makeup on then myself." You tease leaning onto the table.

"And yet, here you are. Sitting across, having dinner with me." He winks putting a cigarette in his mouth. "See the point I'm getting at?"

You huff at the remark. He's toying with you, he's gotta be. "Alright then, fair enough. I'll give you that. But don't sit there and act like I'm the only one."

"I didn't say that," he sneers flicking the lighter until it lights the stick. "I know you're wondering what it is about you that's captivating me."

You hum waiting for a response, "I am."

"I like how you're not afraid to say what you need to say. Mindful for others, but you don't take shit from anyone. I admire that. And also- don't mind me saying- your fascination with a freakish man like myself."

"I don't think you're freakish," you interject. "Different yes.. But I don't perceive you as a freak."

"You don't?" His reply comes out softly. His whole demeanor eases- relaxing his shoulders. It reminds you of that shy man he's holding inside. What a shame to think he might not fully come out anytime soon. Joker could not be seen as too much of a "softie" by the public or his loyal crew. Noo. It wouldn't be good for his image. You need to be completely alone with him if that were to happen. For now, your quiet corner conversation will have to do.

"I never have." You make it very clear to him. "I never thought of you as a freak Arthur. Not before. And not now." You lay both of your hands above the table. He melts with you calling him by his name for the first time tonight. Even more so when he's started coming out of it. He puts the cigarette butt out in a small ashtray by the side.

You take his speechless silence as a sign to continue. "I've noticed you were absent lately.. As I walked by that same spot everyday, and not seeing you there- it concerned me."

He moves his hands closer to yours atop the table. Hesitant in getting too close. "You.. looked for me?" Arthur's heart flutters at your caring words. The fact you noticed that he was gone. No one has ever paid attention to his existence like such- before the Joker that is.

"I did," you continue, "and I grew even more nervous after seeing that clip they played of you on the television.. with Murray making fun of your stand up performance.."

He gently lays his rough hands on top of yours, lightly squeezing with awe. Needing to feel that you were real. To know you are really here, and not an illusion of his mind.

You need a second, looking off to the side briefly before continuing. "I had hoped that it didn't destroy you."

"Y/n.." Realizing he doesn't have to put on this persona to impress you. You look past the clown- past the makeup. Because you've already admired him from the beginning, as Arthur. Heck, even as Carnival, because that's how he'd met you. You care for his well being and feelings. He cherishes your shared moment of silent intimacy. Which is he hasn't had the chance to experience before. It feels nice, refreshing. Like he's finally being seen.

He's the first one to break the stillness. "Well, let's not make this evening all about me," he rests back comfortably. "Please, y/n. How about we talk about you?"

He is all questions and ears for you over the next hour. You inform that you're an office secretary, often working the usual 9 to 5. Which is the only thing going on in your life right now. Having moved here some time ago on your own- no friends or even family. Needing to get away from your life before. However, you'd be lying if you claimed to love it here. You feel alone, trapped. Not just in Gotham, but trapped in your own state of mind. There was nothing in your life, you were simply existing. Only staying because you felt you were part of the few inhabitants that brought some form of color into this cold grey city. But things have only gotten worse for you since. Until now it seems.

"What about you, have you got any family here Arthur?" You ask him curiously.

His smile slowly drops while he thinks of an answer. "No.." he shakes his head, "no one." How? How is he supposed to tell you he killed the woman he grew up thinking was his mother? Who only turned out to be an enabler of his previous ongoing abuse.

No. Bringing her into discussion will only put a damper on such a great night. Eventually he might indeed tell you, but not at the moment. He's having an amazing time with you. Listening to the way you talk, hearing your sweet laugh. Why ruin it?

Towards the end of dinner, you notice Arthur has hardly touched his food. His plate looks as if he picked at it a couple times. Not that it was particularly strange. Perhaps he was too caught in conversation to eat.

"Hey, what do you say we get out of here?" He suggests needing a change of atmosphere. "One of my men over there could drive us. We'll get away from the rest of the crowd. Ride through the town?"

"Sure," you freely agree.

Before you leave, Joker pays the check. Actually pays. Leaving an overly generous tip for the waiter who served you both. Criminal or not, he feels that a gentleman should pay for a first date. Mean, come on, you know the money's stolen. But hey, it's the thought that counts, right?

End of part 3.

#Man Under the Makeup #joker #joker 2019 #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x y/n #arthur fleck x female reader #joker x reader #joker x y/n

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yshai-tia · 5 years ago

Text

LFRP: Y’shai Tia ☀️🌙

LFRP – Y’shai Tia (Crystal, Balmung)

The Basics ––– –

Age: 27

Birthday: 28th day of the 1st Umbral Moon

Race: Miqo’te, Seeker/Keeper mutt.

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Homosexual

Physical Appearance ––––

Hair: Black as pitch, feathery cut with oft adornments of small braids tied off with beads, a style from his young Tribal years that he continues to maintain to this day. Lazy days will have the braids undone and free flying.

Eyes: Blue on the left, green on the right. Pupils a touch wider than the average Seeker's though it's hardly noticeable at a distance.

Height: 5 fulms, 9 ilms. (5'9")

Build: Built and toned, compacted muscle that's common among his race. Broad shoulders and noticeably sculpted arms and thighs. Much like their totem, Miqo'te of the Y tend to build strong physiques through years of swimming and tree climbing that mark their hunting ways.

Distinguishing Marks: A scar of his jawline, dark coloured traditional tribal tattoo on his nose. His torso is covered in angry scars that healed poorly, along with distinct lightning scarring (lichtenberg scars) up along his arms and various spots of healed burns on his hands and fingers. However he's rarely seen in revealing dress so these are usually covered up.

Common Accessories: Gloves, more often that not fingerless. Silver hoops in his ears. When in casual, work dress; a toolbelt around his waist adorned with various pouches, holds a number of things; pliers, flint stones, needle and threads, at least one marginally clean rag, magnifying glasses, gil pouch, adhesive, a balm or two for soothing burns, just to name a few. When dressed for fieldwork rarely is he seen not sporting a pair of scarlet goggles.

Personal ––––

Profession: Hunter, tradesman, jack of all trades for hire. Not exactly picky with the work he picks up as long as it pays and isn't abhorrently morally askew. Naturally he'll jump at any chance to work with tech, however. Most of the gil he pockets comes from repair and commission work.

Skills: Former huntsman of the Y turned engineer, skills lie in archery, tracking, marksmanship and machina work. Things he would consider more hobbies than skills of his own are botany, fishing, swimming, weaving, leatherworking, carpentry and cooking, as these were basic skills taught to all tribespeople of the Y.

Languages: Eorzean Common, Huntspeak.

Residence: Previously the Raincatcher Gully in Eastern La Noscea, currently frequenting various inn rooms depending on where he last picked up a job. Most often spotted in Gridania and Ishgard.

Birthplace: Raincatcher Gully.

Religion: Though not as fervently as when he was at home, he still personally follows the teachings of Azeyma. He has a desire to learn the teachings of Menphina as well.

Patron Deity: Azeyma the Warden, Goddess of Inquiry.

Fears: Tight, closed-off spaces, caves deep underground, cages, etc. Freezing to death. Being bound and imprisoned.

Relationships ––––

Children: None.

Parents: Y'sharai Vanoh, high priestess of the Y (Mother, Status unknown), unknown Keeper (Father)

Siblings: He considers those he grew up with around his age group as his siblings regardless of blood relation

Other Relatives: In reality, blood relations matter little and, though he left, he still considers all of the Y of the tribe he grew up with his family. However strained.

Pets: Not that he would consider him a pet in those exact words, but his Chocobo, Omelette. Don't ask about the name, or do if you fancy seeing Y'shai embarrassed.

Traits ––––

* Bold your character’s answer.

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized (in a chaotic way he can make sense of)

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional information ––––

Smoking Habit: Never / Sometimes / Frequently / To Excess Drugs: Never / Sometimes / Frequently / To Excess Alcohol: Never / Sometimes / Frequently / To Excess

RP Hooks ––––

★ I Can Fix That: A freelance tradesman and borderline obsessive tinkerer, Y'shai is pretty handy when it comes to most styles of craft. Clothes need mending? Chronometer on the fritz? Aetherotransformer not converting properly? Did a Big Bad blow a hole in your armor? He might be able to solve your problem for you-- for a fair price of course, guy’s gotta eat after all. Though it's said that if he's brought an interesting piece of tech his curiousity will override and he'll eagerly look at it for free. ★ Custom Built: Along with repairs Y'shai also offers a modification service on the side-- mostly for firearms, though more mechanically built bows also fall under his expertise. Looking to add a scope? Or alter the chambers so you can utilize different sorts of elemental-aspected ammunition? Or maybe you're just looking to get some fancy engraving work done. If you're looking to treat yourself and your six shooter, look no further. ★ Skysteel Frequenter: With his recent apprenticeship at Skysteel Manufactory he's currently seen in the workshop quite a bit. If you happen to also be in and out of there on a nigh daily basis chances are you've seen him around. Whether it's a mutual love for the marksman life or to geek out together over tech, there can be common ground to be struck here. ★ Putting the Cat in Catburglar: Though he doesn't exactly make it common, public knowledge, when Y'shai needs to replenish his sources of Garlean tech he'll wait until night falls and raids the nearest Castrum for parts. And to cause a general ruckus. Do you hate the empire? Do you have an interest their magitech? Love storming their bases just for the hell of it? It'd be a lot easier to carry out more parts with more hands on deck after all... ★ Ehcatl Nine Blackguard: It's not uncommon to find Y'shai around the Twelveswood, originally he sought out Gridania for multiple reasons; to improve on his archery, to learn of Keeper culture, to visit the woods his mother once spoke of so fondly. But it was among the beastribe of Ixal known as the Ehcatl Nine where his, at the time, novice experience as a craftsman was free to take wing. Literally. Though it's been some moons since he finished contributing to the development of the Dezul Qualan airship, he still enjoys visiting from time to time to see how they're coming along. He feels permanently indebted to Sezul and his crew. ★ Moon Gazing: Though not all too open about his heritage, Y'shai does have a secret desire to learn more of Keeper culture and the teachings of Menphina. Part of him feels he shouldn't care, not as if his Pops was ever a part of his life-- but on the other hand it's clearly something his mother knew of and loved enough to stay distant from home from some time. Are you a tribal Keeper? A priest/priestess of Menphina? Don't mind inelegantly asked questions? Apologies in advance. ★ Jaguar of the Rainforest: Fellow members of the Y who grew up in the Raincatcher sept would know Y'shai as family or former family considering their stance on his departure. And, though very rare, there is always a chance outsiders have happened upon the Y settlement in the past and met Y'shai long before he became who he is today. (this would take some pre-plotting together!)

★ Restoring the Firmament: Working out of Ishgard via the Manufactory means Y’shai is in prime, and eager, position to devote a good portion of his time to the recently begun restoration of the Firmament district. Are you also dedicated to seeing Ishgard flourish once more? Crafter and/or gatherer of no small renown? Maybe you’re just into watching from the sidelines and admiring the very nice view of all the hard-working men and women doing heavy lifting.

What I’m looking for ––––

Just about anything and everything in between. Friends, enemies, rivals, someone you have to work with that you can’t tolerate but secretly admire (and oh no they’re kinda hot?), a complete stranger to get drunk with under the stars and discuss the intricacies of life and why apkallu omelettes are superior to dodo omelettes-- c’mon dude they are way fluffier! I love light-hearted slice of life moments, intense, high-stakes action scenes and espionage, meaningful angst and scenes rife with emotion, falling into the dark underbelly of Eorzea and learning what grey morality really is. Chances are if you think it sounds dope and worth exploring so do I! I love writing for the sake of writing and if you feel similarly we’ll probably click.

The ultimate dream is fulfilling my favourite trope of a Found Family, but ‘course something like that would take dedication!

OOC info ––––

18+, Canadian, EST. Here to have a good time.

I have discord and all that jazz so if you want a snappier way to communicate just lemme know. I like to think I’m pretty laid-back in all regards and not too much can ruffle my feathers, so don’t be scared to hit me up, world is your oyster! yeehaw

my boy also has a carrd, you’ll find everything here on there but with Extra Lore™!

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hellyeahomeland · 5 years ago

Photo

“In Full Flight” | Directed by Dan Attias, Cinematography by Giorgio Scali

Sara: I love this opening shot of Mike, Alan, and Jenna in Kabul station. In my head I’m calling them the Three Stooges--which is accurate!--but when they turn on Saul in a pack like that I get The Plastics vibes.

Gail: The way they’ve lined up--Mike, Alan, and Jenna--by pecking order in the initial shot of this scene is interesting. We (the audience) should be on their side, shouldn’t we? They aren’t the enemy and are just trying to track down a compromised, rogue agent that may have knowledge about the assassination of the President, right? But we aren’t on their side, we know too much. As the camera pans around them, we see them from Saul’s perspective, lined up against him and standing in between him and the “front of the room” position he once (and very recently) held.

Sara: Locating Carrie after that doozy of a closing scene from the previous episode is always an interesting task. I’m struck especially by how bewildered, almost lost, she seems. I also have to note that this scene is basically identical to the one in “The Star” where she’s driving Brody to the safe house, and I wonder if she was getting déjà vu.

Gail: We have a window into Carrie’s mindset to start the episode as the ramifications of what just happened with Saul sink in. Sara’s comparison to Brody in “The Star” is spot on.

Gail: “You were drivin' / The getaway car / We were flyin' / But we'd never get far”

Sara: IJLTP and I loved this device in the episode. What a setup.

Sara: This image doesn’t really capture how fucking good this scene between Carrie and Yevgeny is. We know the framing of it, with the big bed in the background that they both keep glancing back at every twenty seconds, was entirely intentional. Which is just… *chef’s kiss*

Beyond that, I love the way Claire plays it. Quiet, whispering, this mix of desperation and built-up expectations (for what the flight recorder will reveal, not to mention whatever dance she and Yevgeny are doing). It’s really spectacular. She’s giving me Carrie in “Andante” vibes right before she decided to, well, you know…

Gail: I agree with everything you said, Sara. This scene is phenomenally done. A moment that struck me is when Yevgeny asks Carrie who she thinks shot down the helicopters. Her initial reluctance to answer him paired with his intense look at her begin their dance. As she is answering him and says that maybe no one did, his head tilts ever so slightly and I think the look on his face betrays a professional admiration for her. Her theory is probably one that he either shares or knows to be true. As the scene builds, so does their chemistry. It’s palpable.

Sara: First Saul, and now it’s Tasneem versus a band of three. I love this shot and the reveal that it was men under the burqas.

Gail: I didn’t notice that when I watched it! What a great catch, Sara! It struck me how similar Balach and Wellington are now that they have both found themselves serving new masters with vastly different ideas of what the path forward should be.

Gail: I love how she doesn’t break eye contact with Balach while the hood is being placed on her. Tasneem doesn’t blink first and I love her as much as I loathe her.

Sara: This “are you fucking kidding me?!” look is amazing. Nimrat Kauer has been so amazing this season. And though it seems unlikely I’ll get my longed-for Carrie/Tasneem faceoff, I love how they’ve added depth and layers to her character this season in ways I didn’t expect.

Sara: This might be one of my favorite ever visuals from this show. It’s a series of contrasts. You have the height difference, obviously. But they continue to dress Yevgeny in dark colors and Carrie in more neutral tones, even as they tie them together through their jacket details.

Gail: Carrie is high strung and relies heavily on her instincts which also contrasts with Yevgeny’s casual demeanor and his meticulous planning. Here, Yevgeny looks almost amused while Carrie looks laser focused and uneasy.

Gail: Yevgeny will lean on anything, even a ceiling.

Sara: I love this moment. The shop owner starts speaking to Yevgeny, who’s literally grasping the ceiling he’s so tall. Yevgeny smartly nods his head in Carrie’s direction: she’s in charge, not me. (“I just like how he’s always leaning. gainst stuff. He leans great.”)

Sara: Saul against another band of three (I mean, technically, Linus still looks like he wants to get swallowed by an alligator.) I’ve been picking up on body language a lot this season, and I couldn’t help but notice Zabel’s. Legs crossed, totally nonplussed. Meanwhile Saul is bent over, looking dejectedly at the ground.

Gail: The body language in the scene says way more about the power dynamics at play than anything that is said out loud. As Sara points out, Linus would rather be anywhere but there, his body language is very closed off, betraying his anxiousness and unease at the situation. Saul’s body is slumping forward and his head down. Zabel and Hayes are a mix of contradictions: they are both open (facing each other) in their arms but closed off below the waist by their legs that are facing Saul.

Sara: Yes! And then a few moments later, Hayes actually mirrors Zabel, crosses his legs and leans back in the exact same way. It’s very spooky.

Gail: Hayes has no original thoughts of his own. The fact that he is mimicking Zabel says a lot about who he is.

Gail: Saul plants seeds of doubt into Hayes by pointing out the reality of the situation and Sam Trammell plays with that knowledge so well in this scene as Hayes looks to Zabel for reassurance.

Sara: God, Sam Trammell’s facial expressions this season have been all-time. I never knew there were so many flavors of “oh shit what have I done?”

Sara: Julie and Ashley both picked up on this misspelling of Max’s last name. It’s PiOtrowski, not PiEtrowski. Another Homeland gaffe or …?

Gail: Weird... I never noticed that. But I did think her attempt to cover it up at the counter when Yevgeny walked in was futile. It most certainly did not escape his attention.

Gail: When I watched this scene I totally picked up on something between them. But looking back, maybe I’m getting it wrong that it’s Jalal feeling sexual chemistry with Tasneem. Maybe he’s just really feeling himself and feeling intoxicated by the power he’s wielding. Jalal definitely has a new swagger about him. Also? Ugh, Tasneem.

Sara: A truly stunning shot. I have nothing else to offer, except that I get no intentional sexual tension or chemistry between them. I think your suggestion that he’s high on power is right on.

Sara: Jalal walking up to the edge of the roof and this shot from below, lit by moonlight, reminded me a lot of the way they filmed Haqqani (and Saul) walking up to the edge of the cliff in “False Friends.” What an eerie father/son parallel.

Gail: I think it must be an intentional parallel too. Haqqani and Saul became equals and partners in peace in their scene in “False Friends.” Here, Jalal has no equal with him, no partner. Tasneem is standing far behind him, where he wants her and where she can watch the world begin to burn from her actions earlier this season.

Gail: Carrie’s body language here feels important. As Carrie points out, she isn’t turning her back on her colleagues. Her back is turned to Yevgeny as she waits to talk to Jenna, providing her a mental barrier between the two sides she is trying to play for the greater good.

Sara: If you need any indication that Carrie is not a traitor and hasn’t been turned, it’s the way she sits, silently stewing, after selling out her colleagues. Forget that they ignored her, left Max to die, and generally are annoying. It’s the principle of it.

Sara: That said, this expression--coupled with the perfectly-delivered line, “You did the right thing, Jenna”--is the Carrie Mathison version of ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ .

Gail: Yevgeny has a million different smirks. This one reads as more professional admiration toward Carrie.

Gail: Poor Jenna. I used to think she was a Russian agent. Now I realize that she is actually Carrie’s. Looking back, Carrie has been grooming her all along.

Sara: [theme music from Curb Your Enthusiasm plays loudly in the background]

Sara: IJLTP.

Gail: Wholeheartedly agree.

Sara: I still am not buying that Carrie knows how to operate a computer.

Gail: What do you think is in the “Personal” folder???

Sara: Oh my God, Gail, I wondered the same thing. Um... pictures of Franny and coded messages revealing the locations of her spy grab bags in every major city she’s ever visited.

Gail: The intimacy...

Sara: IJLTP.

Sara: What I really love about this scene is that Carrie and Yevgeny both remain exactly who they are, even while giving in to the game. Carrie is her trademark intense, direct, and forward self. Meanwhile Yevgeny leans back on the table, head cocked, a slight smirk in his expression. I really can’t overstate how impeccable the acting was in this scene. Claire Danes and Costa Ronin have to play all angles convincingly and they don’t falter once.

Gail: Absolutely. Yevgeny leaning back, smirking down at Carrie, gauging her interest. She leans in and gets closer to him and cocks her head, holding his gaze, as he considers what she is saying... It is all so well done.

Sara: I don’t know what to call these. Micro-cues? Anyway, the second Carrie says “Islamabad first,” the tone shifts. She leans in to kiss him three more times, and he pulls away--just ever so slightly--each time. It’s remarkable. There are very few scenes in the history of the show that have been this on-the-surface awesome while also containing so many layers. This is multifaceted awesome.

Sara: What an incredible shot that so sharply and succinctly visually summarizes Saul’s current position. I wasn’t on board with what they were doing with Saul initially this season, but I’ve really come around. They’ve systematically dismantled Saul’s career--and therefore his life, because his career is his life. I predicted that Saul might die at the end of the series. This doesn’t seem super likely at the moment, but the death of his career is on the whole a more devastating development.

Gail: You are right, Sara. This image is Saul’s current career trajectory in a nutshell. Saul is dying by a thousand cuts professionally and you can see in his posture and stance just how much it is weighing on him.

Gail: Ashley pointed out on the podcast how reminiscent this scene was of the Carrie/Quinn scene in “Why Is This Night Different?” Yevgeny and Carrie strike me as two sides of the same coin so I can see it. Both have personas they hide behind in order to do the work they do. This scene shows an evolution to Yevgeny’s feelings toward Carrie as well as a tenderness in him that Carrie tried unsuccessfully to appeal to. It also gives the audience a small window (and maybe even a little hope?) into the conflicting emotions Yevgeny is feeling for her.

Sara: Yevgeny pulling the ol’ sneak attack on Carrie suggested that he might have been playing her all along. But how then to explain this private moment, when no one but the audience is watching? For a man like Yevgeny Gromov, the truth and reality of his feelings for Carrie is probably daunting, especially when he’s been trained his whole adult life to stifle those types of emotions. I love what this moment reveals. That he’s not some scheming supervillain but really and truly human--that is, a bundle of contradictions. Aren’t we most ourselves when no one is looking?

#homeland #homelandedit #in the director's chair #in full flight #*#dan attias #by: sara #by: gail

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misc-headcanons · 5 years ago

Note

(1) May I get a matchup for One Piece & BNHA please? I’m a female, 5’2”, chubby, green eyes, long red (dyed) hair, Aquarius sun/Leo moon/Libra rising, prefers men, NTJ, with anxiety and depression. I’m a goth that likes drawing, writing, reading (horror romances), animals, nature, herbology, fluffy blankets, collecting exotic weapons, collecting crystals, and comfortable silence.

(2) I’m passionate, intense, witty, have a dark sense of humor, loyal, I overthink, have no filter/sassy, go against social constructs, accepting of others, geeky, supportive/ protective of loved ones, and will not back down from a fight, have insomnia sometimes, and takes a long time to feel comfortable around people. Thank you!

(So I added some cute little goth-type accessories, like the choker, headpiece, and earrings because you mentioned you were a goth. I made the background because they kinda look like crystals...if you like, squint or something...and you collect crystals! :D)

For BNHA, I match you with...All Might/Toshinori Yagi!

First of all, All Might is a Gemini, which is one of the better partners for an Aquarius like you. Geminis appreciate their Aquarius partner’s creativity; Toshi would be very interested in your hobbies (he’d love to read your writing, check out whatever book you’re currently reading, and admire the crystals and exotic weapons you collect). I think that Toshi prefers partners with a bit of chub, and I think he’d find your red hair and green eyes quite captivating; his bright blue eyes are very striking when he’s in his deflated form, but there’s something warmer about your eyes that makes him stare at them with a lovestruck sigh. Toshi would also admire your passion and how far you go to protect your loved ones, as well as your refusal to back down from a fight. If anyone was stupid enough to comment on Toshi’s deflated appearance when you’re around, he’d futilely try to hold you back and say that they aren’t worth paying attention to. If someone insulted you though, he’d do the exact same thing and make sure that they apologize for saying something so rude about his s/o.

Because of his condition when he’s in his deflated form, he gets cold quite easily so he’d appreciate having someone with fondness for fuzzy blankets like him. If you’re dealing with insomnia that’s keeping you awake, he’d show solidarity by refusing to sleep and staying up with you (if his s/o is struggling with something, he thinks that unless he deals with it alongside them that he’s being selfish). Whenever your anxiety and/or depression begins to creep up, Toshi is ready to give you anything you need (whether that’s alone time, a day away from work to treat yourself, or energy bars in his pocket if you haven’t eaten anything yet). He does a lot of research on how to support loved ones struggling with anxiety and depression so he can know the signs of when you’re in need of a hand.

For One Piece, I match you with...Trafalgar D. Water Law!

Starting again with zodiac compatibility, Law is a Libra. Aquarius/Libra partners enjoy intellectual/interesting conversations and both of them value their freedom immensely; since you go against social constructs, I think that you and Law would be partners on the battlefield (the dude hatched a plan to dismantle the power of not just Doflamingo, the dictator-king of Dressrosa, but also tried to damage a main source of political power/strength for Kaido, a FUCKING YONKO) and something romantic would develop from there. Like you, it takes a while for Law to trust/open up to someone, so he’d understand if don’t automatically warm up to him. What you guys have is pretty chill, and even though you don’t outwardly say it often the two of you do love each other and would do anything to keep each other safe.

According to one of the SBS questions, Law’s hobby is collecting coins. He thinks they aren’t as flashy or pretty as your collection of crystals and weapons, but he’d still show them to you if you asked (most people don’t even know that his collection exists, and he’s very hesitant to show it to people). I think that Law struggles with severe depression, and he’s able to pick up on when your symptoms are starting to get too overwhelming. Thanks to his medical knowledge, he knows a fair bit on how to support someone with depression and anxiety and he’s always ready to be there for you when you need someone within your support system. His knowledge of medicine would also help whenever you’re struggling with insomnia; he won’t give you any medication if you don’t want to take it, and he knows a few pressure points and herbs that typically alleviate insomnia. Sometimes he can come across as a bit distant, but because he doesn’t want to make you anxious or overanalyze his tone he’ll make sure you know that he isn’t upset with you. Law’s a bit awkward when it comes to comforting people though, even his loved ones; he’ll just kind of hug you out of nowhere and bluntly say “I think my tone earlier made me sound angry, but I promise I’m not angry at you” before going back to work.

Law’s able to draw fairly well if it’s something like human anatomy, but apart from that he’s not very skilled at it. He enjoys watching you draw and he has a few of your sketches in his desk drawer on the Polar Tang.

#matchup #one piece matchup #bnha matchup #trafalgar law #toshinori yagi #law #all might #mine #yue-rose-redux

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aliencowboyqueen · 6 years ago

Text

Did you want 2,000 words on Alex, Michael and Kyle in Caulfield?

I'm supposed to be writing a fic but instead I lost myself in an analysis of the Caulfield plot. If you don't want to read all 2,000 words of it, it boils down to: I love Kyle Valenti and everything hurts. If you do want the full course, keep reading.

I have such intense love for the entire Caulfield plot. Alex, Michael, and Kyle all have a deeply personal stake in this operation – not one of them is there just to provide a helping hand – and I love that. And I love their dynamics and everything about what these three characters go through, each on their own as well as in relation to the other two, in this episode.

I appreciate that Michael calls Kyle out on his high school behaviour. He is not even talking to Kyle in that moment, he is calling out Alex on being willing to cooperate with him after all that. And I like the way Alex dismisses this topic. He doesn’t try to make excuses for Kyle, he doesn’t give him a cookie for having improved. He doesn’t try to pacify Michael. He simply redirects the conversation towards their mission. He has not forgotten; it simply isn’t relevant right now.

We learn a little fun titbit about Kyle: he references pop/nerdy culture without any deeper knowledge of it. He confuses Star Wars and Star Trek and I wonder if he has any actual knowledge about X-Men or if he only knows what Magneto does. Alex’s horrified expression is priceless. Kyle Valenti is not perfect even in the present day! Who’d have thought?

That little moment when Alex makes sure Michael is actually ready for this mission. I don’t think he expects him to back out, but he is giving him that option just in case.

You know what else I love? Alex is managing this operation and Kyle respects it fully. When Alex says to do something, he does it, because he knows Alex knows what he is doing. This is Alex’s sphere of expertise and he knows it, and he trusts his decisions. If they were performing a surgery, I have no doubt he’d expect Alex to follow his instructions, but in this situation, Alex is the one with the training and the experience and the plan. There is only one moment where we see him give Alex a questioning look – when Alex says you can’t just give someone a brain tumor. I’d say Kyle is actually hurt by that remark, because he is sure that his father was murdered and Alex is being dismissive about that. Other than that? Alex says jump and Kyle does.

Meanwhile, Michael’s first instinct is to protect Alex and I love that. But I also love that, in the “run towards the entrance” scene, he instantly catches up on the fact that Alex is in the one best suited to handle the situation. Alex is the one who can find out the best excuse to be there, being the one actually in the military, and the one best suited to handle it. Meanwhile, not one of them is in more danger than Michael. Michael accepts it. He realizes that sometimes, he can protect Alex, but sometimes it’s Alex’s turn to protect him.

TL;DR Michael and Kyle both respect Alex a lot. Please put that in contrast with his father and brother, who both treat him as weak and less than.

Quick thirst break to admire how hot Alex is in this episode. The moment he disarms Flint? UNF. And he also genuinely just looks great this episode; this hairstyle is wonderful on him.

Alex and Flint. It’s clear their relationship is complicated. We see Flint begrudgingly impressed by Alex disarming him. They don’t want to be on the opposing sides of this battle, but neither of them will budge. If it comes down to choosing between their respective ideologies or the other one’s well-being, one of them will be leaving in a body bag, but it’s clear neither of them wants it to get to that point (But then when it gets to that point, Flint tells Alex to get out). I wouldn’t go as far as to claim they love each other – there is clearly a lot of bad blood between them and Flint is the sort of Manes man Jesse Manes wants his son to be – but they are brothers and on some level, they care about each other. They know each other well, and their position within the family, and throughout the entire conversation they are exploiting their knowledge of each other in order to learn more about what the other one is up to. This was such a good choice, to have Alex converse with his brother rather than have the trio face only random soldiers. (Compare Alex and Flint’s conversation to Kyle’s conversation with the random soldier.)

“Will it feed my Beagle?” Can we see the beagle? Please?

“What does he have on you?” Season 2 better deliver, I’m intrigued.

“Oh spare me.” Alex Manes takes no one’s bullshit.

It was interesting to watch Kyle and Michael. We see them butt heads at every turn. They challenge and question each other every step of the way. Kyle is clearly uncertain regarding Michael’s psychic connection to the other aliens – he can’t see the effects of it, for all he knows Michael has no idea what he is doing. And Michael won’t let Kyle take credit for decoding the letters – there is a very strong emphasis on that “and” in “Alex and you, uh?”

But then the holding area. The contrast between Michael and Kyle there. Michael’s angry and broken “They are like me.” Kyle using clinical words to analyse the situation because that’s how he processes and understands it, but his expression is horrified, he feels compassion for these people. Michael’s direct and plain label of “torture” and his desperate need to save these people, Kyle’s understanding that they don’t have the capacity to do that right there and then. “And bring them where? They are feral,” you can tell he doesn’t like having to say it. He is turning Michael down, but he is no longer hostile. I really love the acting and directing choices there because the lines themselves? (“And bring them where? They are feral.” “Hey! Guerin?” “Are you sure?”) They could be shouted, they could be said through his teeth, they could be impatient. Instead, they sound concerned. From the moment Michael says “They are like me,” Kyle takes an entirely different tone with him. Kyle realizes that no matter how he is feeling, Michael is feeling worse.

The way Michael says “I know her.” Like his brain is so busy processing this situation that he has forgotten how words work. Is he telling this to Kyle? Or just to himself? There is so much feeling. Someone give Vlamis an Emmy.

Someone is approaching and there is not a moment of hesitation for Kyle. They are in an alien torture facility and Michael is an alien. Kyle could get in trouble if his cover story fails but it’d be incomparably worse for Michael. Michael might not be his favorite person in the world, but Kyle is going to make sure he is not dissected by creepy soldiers.

Kyle’s expression during the “Any human ever go there?” “Once” conversation. He thinks: I was right, my father WAS murdered. And then he looks at this old, sad, broken, tortured, isolated alien. And Kyle’s world shatters to pieces. The expression on his face breaks me. It especially breaks me on repeat viewing after having heard his later dialogue. Because it’s not an “I have my answers and can have my justice” expression. It’s: “My hero might have been a monster.”

“Then he deserved it.” First, I don’t think I’ve ever loved a character more than I love Kyle in that moment. Kyle loved and admired his father. But if he has to choose between compassion for cruelly-treated strangers and his love for his father? Kyle is not going to excuse torture and genocide. And Alex’s expression in that second. I think that for a moment, despite all the words coming out of Kyle’s mouth, Alex thought he is going to lose his support. You can see the crease between his brows, the way he is not looking at Kyle, he is getting ready for the alternative that he is going to have to fight Kyle, too. But then Kyle says that. And Alex’s expression is surprise but… it’s also concern. Tyler is such an amazing actor. That one look says “Wow, I can actually count on you, we have the same moral code, I can trust you, we are on the same side” but also “Are you okay? Are you okay? Are you okay?” Because that was broken and ruthless and Alex understands Kyle’s world just fell apart and Alex sees that he is ready to burn the remnants of it to ash. And remember, Jim Valenti was a father figure to Alex, too.

God, I feel so devastated for Michael, knowing that it was his attempt to free his mother that triggered the self-destruction of the facility. I need someone to let him know that it wasn’t his fault. It WASN’T. Because I’m sure he will feel guilty but the only people to blame are the ones who created this torture institution. I need someone to make sure he knows that.

“But make sure you get out.” Something about this line Alex says to Kyle feels important. It might be: “This is important to us both, but it’s more important that you live through this.” I’m not fully confident in my reading of it, but to me this line is both “I want this mission to yield some results, but I want you to get out safe more” and “I know that right now, you might not care to keep yourself safe. Do get out.”

I love that Alex doesn’t need to ask Kyle about Michael. Not only that, but when it seems like he is going to run blindly into the building, Kyle stops him and with no prompting at all, he gives Alex specific directions. Alex isn’t asking because in his experience it’s him and Michael against the world, the two of them on their own. It’s up to him alone to get Michael out. But Kyle knows Alex is going to look for him and he doesn’t want Alex wandering aimlessly around the facility and he wants Michael to get out, too. He says those directions in the same tone as Alex uses to say “But make sure you get out.”

I’m not going to go into That Scene because That Scene deserves a better-worded 2,000 word essay all of its own. If I could get a gif set tattooed, I’d get this scene.

Michael pulling Alex behind the vehicle, my heart.

Please don’t ask me why Michael is then left alone. I continue to be baffled.

It gives us the conversation between Kyle and Alex, however, and I’m grateful for that one. The message of it is important, but I think it’s also important in regards to the characterisation. We see that Kyle is trying to process things – Kyle wants to be on the right side of things, but he also needs to be certain what the right side is. And Alex has already made his choice and now we have it confirmed that it’s not only about Michael. I never thought it was only about Michael, but now it’s clear: Alex has deep regrets about his military career, it has affected him more than he’s been letting on, and he is never again going to let someone tell him what’s right and point him towards a target and tell him to shoot. He is never going into anything blind again.

And I hope that Kyle trusts Alex’s words, and his own instinctive understanding of who the vulnerable party truly was, more than he trusts his doubts.

#roswell new mexico #roswell nm #alex manes #michael guerin #kyle valenti #roswellnm #roswell spoilers #malex #caulfield plot

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amandaoftherosemire · 6 years ago

Text

Lightning Strikes Part Five

Fandom: Marvel Avengers AU

Pairing: Thor Odinson X Reader

Characters: Thor Odinson, Loki Odinson, Bucky Barnes

Author: @amandaoftherosemire

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5,280

Format: Series (Complete)

Warning: Language.

Summary: You spend time with Loki.

A/N: The first couple parts of this was written a while ago for @buckysforeverprincess 500 Follower Writing Prompt Challenge. Not consistent with Marvel canon. I have willfully and deliberately ignored the events of Infinity War. The Statesman made it to Earth after a largely uneventful journey and everyone is FINE. The only thing I’ve taken from Infinity War is Stormbreaker because it’s cool as hell.

I want to thank everyone who sticks with my fics since I’m terrible at updating regularly. I also want to thank everyone who leaves feedback or sends me messages about them. It really does encourage me to write. I might not have stuck with this if someone hadn’t dropped me an ask about it. This seems to be only true for me, but I have no problem with being asked when I’m going to update as long as you’re not a dick about it. 😄

This one took me some time until I stopped trying to make Loki do anything. It sounds weird but after a while I started thinking the real thing was fucking with me for daring to think I was in charge.

Part Four: Idolatry here

Antithesis

Several weeks later you sat at your desk in your office at the compound and tried with all your might to focus on one of the worst parts of your job. Full of legalese that proved to you beyond a shadow of a doubt that half the lawyers in the world only existed because the other half did, you were knee-deep in some bullshit. Reading documents like this was literally your least favorite part of the job description.

And it certainly didn't help that the author of the document was a member of the legal department with whom you were unfortunately familiar. You'd made it a point to not drink that heavily at office events since. The man may have been hot, but he was also an arrogant, pretentious fuckrag.

You couldn't help but be preoccupied. The Odinson brothers were driving you to distraction, though for very different reasons. You were running on fumes at this point, but you didn't know how to stop. Between the two, you were only getting a few hours of sleep a night even if it was only in making up missed work. Neither man was very good with the concept of deadlines or limited amounts of time, though Loki was the far worse of the two. You imagined you could thank Thor's time living on Earth, not to mention his sweet nature, for his greater consideration.

Thor. When he was there, he was quite possibly perfect. Funny and good natured, he was a joy to be around the vast majority of the time. Most of the time you spent together he seemed determined to wring everything he could get out of every minute with you. It was delightfully intense, because it wasn't just sex. Honestly, you'd have preferred it if it was, because he was sweet, and charming, and scarily intelligent, and you were terrified you were falling head over heels in love with him.

When he was there, he was the perfect companion, attentive without being overbearing, energetic without being exhausting, sweet without being cloying. He was also one of the most interesting men you'd ever met, a veritable fount of knowledge with an easy willingness to impart it. He had great stories, and a somewhat dramatic way of telling them. On top of that, he was a great listener, eager to learn everything you'd tell him about yourself, your life, your world. You'd yet to spend a boring minute in his presence.

When he was there, he made you feel like no one ever had before, like you were glowing from the inside out. He didn't just make you feel special, he seemed to think you were remarkable, as though he'd never even imagined someone like you. Aside from his myriad attractions, the outrageous body, the dreamy smile, the sweet and generous nature, that wonder at the reality of you would have been irresistible on its own. He sometimes had a look in his eye like he couldn't believe you were real. The idea that someone as extraordinary as Thor, considering where he'd come from and all that he'd seen, could find you not only astonishing, but delightfully so, was captivating.

When he was there, he couldn't seem to keep his hands off you, as though he thought you the sexiest woman on the planet. Not only was he ready, willing, and eager to go to bed whenever and wherever, he'd happily spend all day at it if you'd let him. To your amused chagrin, you'd now had sex in any number of rooms in the compound that you'd never even set foot in before. He was an utter hedonist, deeply sensual, basely sexual, and without an ounce of shame in his entire gorgeous body. Being his lover was both exhilarating and exhausting.

When he was there, you forgot all the reasons you should not fall in love with Thor Odinson. When he was there, you couldn't think about anything but the fact that you were happier with him than you'd ever been before. When he was there, you let tomorrow worry about itself and lived in the moment.

As he made every moment a shimmering jewel, as every moment dazzled you, seduced you, destroyed you, it was dangerously easy to lose yourself in him. When he was there.

That was the thing, though. He most often was NOT there.

Which you got. And not in that bullshit way where you say you get it, but you're only saying it because you know you're supposed to. You actually got it. You knew Thor had more than you could imagine on his plate; busy didn't begin to describe it. That he took the time he did to spend with you wasn't just flattering, it had the romantic corner of your heart sighing dreamily.

Unfortunately, when Thor wasn't there, which was most of the time, you were entirely too aware of how doomed your relationship with him truly was. Whether you looked at the differences in your circumstances, the distance between your homes, or the insanity of your lives, there was no way this could possibly work long term; you were sure of it. When you added in the fact that he was a king, a god, a hero, it was just getting ridiculous.

Lastly, there was the terrible thought you'd had once in the middle of the night that you never let yourself think again but that sat in the back of your brain like a goblin, snickering and waiting for its chance to start gnawing on your mind. You'd first thought of it when you were once again alone; Thor had left the afternoon before and your bed was suddenly depressingly cold and lonely. After hours of sleepless worry about all the other things bound to go wrong, you'd had a thought so awful, of an obstacle so insurmountable, you'd immediately wrapped it in layers of oh hell no and stuffed in the darkest corner in the smallest, darkest closet of your mind. If you didn't think of it, you could allow yourself to enjoy this glorious fantasy until something else destroyed the dream.

You'd had the thought because of Loki, actually. Not because of something he'd deliberately pointed out, but an offhand comment regarding something that happened when he and Thor had been children. The story had been funny, and Loki had a way of drawing you in, but a tiny detail had stuck inside your mind like a bur. That detail chafed, keeping your brain scratching at it until you came to the realization that ruined your hopes and broke your heart. Like an oyster with a grain of sand, you'd started covering that thought in layers until your mind could glide over it easily without any scraping or stumbling.

Loki, on the other hand, was always there, both when you wanted him and not. He acted as though he had decided you were the only person in the compound he could stand for more than a few minutes. You suspected he liked plenty of people way more than he let on, but he seemed devoted to his persona of smug superiority. Unfortunately, this meant when Loki got bored, he came looking for you. Being forced to behave himself and stay in the compound did not amuse or entertain him so he came looking for you a lot. As a matter of fact, he came looking for you all. the damn. time.

You adored Loki, truly. It wasn't that you objected to spending time with him. It was that you could not make him care about the fact that you had other things to do. He had no qualms about interrupting your workday, no matter how many times you asked him not to, leading to plenty of afterhours catch-up. He thought most of what you did was stupid, so he didn't give two shits about getting in the way of it. It was strangely admirable, his dedication to not giving a fuck.

The problem was that Loki didn't cause as much trouble when you were catering to his whims and dancing attendance upon him. To be fair, Loki didn't really cause trouble; it was more that he subtly arranged circumstances in favor of the most dramatic or disastrous outcome. He loved to sit back and watch fireworks he'd personally arranged. When you'd confided your difficulties in Pepper, she had assured you that time spent placating Loki would be considered work time if for no other reason than that it gave everyone else a break. At her direction, you had been spending most of your time at the compound to make it easier for you to tend to him and make the team members' lives a little easier while Loki was in residence.

Which is how you knew, when he strode into your office with an air of impatience, you'd be giving in to his whims after a sham refusal you'd enact purely for form.

"I’m bored." Loki burst into the room the way he did everything, with an arrogance that bordered on contempt. Perhaps it was a sign of something wrong with you, but Loki's attitude, rather than offending you, perfectly tickled the perverse part of your sense of humor.

You didn't even look up from your paperwork. You were entirely too familiar with this tune to do more than absently bob your head along with the beat. You scoffed. "I care."

Loki stared holes in the top of your head, not that it ever seemed to bother you. But then you often reacted in unexpected ways. Is that why he kept scratching at you? If he could understand you, predict your behavior, would you finally bore him as much as most humans? "Why, exactly, do you do this?" he asked, as he settled into one of the chairs in front of your desk.

"No, it’s fine." You rolled your eyes but kept your eyes off Loki. You knew from experience that once you looked at him, he would consider the acknowledgement as validation and you'd spend the rest of the day answering his questions. "I’m not trying to parse legalese right now or anything."

Loki stayed silent. He refused to repeat himself. Also, he'd noticed that his silence seemed to exasperate you faster than anything else. He examined his cuticles while he waited for the quiet to do its work.

For a while, the only sound in the room was the brush of fabric as either of you shifted position and the whisper of each turn of the page. You often printed legalese like this out so that you could mark on it without the risk of sending something like 'who the fuck does this asshole think he is?' to the asshole in question. You vowed to keep doing it, if for no other reason than that it was so much more dramatic than rolling a scroll button on a mouse.

You could tell by the quality of the hush that settled over the room that Loki was in one of his more difficult moods, meaning that he would only get more and more petulant the longer you put him off. Though you hated to do it as a matter of principle, you knew giving in would cost you far less time and annoyance than pretending to allow him to irritate you into paying attention to him. The pragmatist in you would not allow you to stand on principle when there was no benefit to you other than self-righteousness.

You gave an exaggerated sigh as marked your place in the document with a quickly scrawled LNA, your code for Loki Needs Attention and the current time. Pepper had asked you to keep track of how much time you were spending dancing attention on the Asgardian prince, though you didn’t include the time you gave on your off-hours.

You placed the document into a file folder, closing it carefully and placing your interlaced fingers on top as you made it clear you were focusing on Loki under protest and with utmost exasperation. "Why do I do what?"

Loki smiled inwardly even as his face moved into a sneer. "This!" He swept his arm out to take in the room they sat in. "Labor for these people?"

"Okay." You infused as much doubt as you could into the word. You looked around at your very nice office and decided not to ask what exactly he found so distasteful. "Two reasons. First, I love the things money can buy, like food and shelter and liquor. Second, because I’m fucking awesome at it. We done?" You lifted your eyebrows at him in the kind of bored disdain you knew he'd find most challenging, and thus most entertaining.

Loki matched your tone as he stood to wander the room and examine the furnishings. He did this every time. "I’d ask what you do in here, but frankly I don’t care."

You shot him a toothy grin and a beam of sarcastic cheer. "Great. Bye."

Loki didn't deign to answer this time. He knew he had you now. He could almost hear your mind rationalizing the decision to simply give in and give him what he wanted. In his experience, it was always best to let people manipulate themselves. He meandered over to the bookshelves, as he often did, where you had books and photographs taking up most of one long wall. Some of the books were work related, but plenty were from your personal collection.

Every time he came into this room, he liked to take a different book down from the shelf and skim through it. Your preferred reading material told him a great deal about you. Loki needed to understand you if he was to accurately assess the situation. He also liked to examine a different photo in the hopes of deciphering why you smiled like a lunatic in every picture you were in. He suspected it was something to hide behind, similar to his own superior smirk.

Loki eyes slid over the titles, looking for anything somewhat interesting that he hadn't already tried. He found human society largely boring if not aggravating, but he couldn't help but enjoy the art. He considered it mostly primitive, but with a raw energy that made it compelling. The depth and breadth of human art was the most impressive thing about the species, he thought. Not that that was saying much.

You were already bored watching him amble around your office. "Oh my god! You win; I don’t want to fight." Loki turned away from the bookcase with a smug smile. You laughed as soon as you saw it and rolled your eyes indulgently. "I’ll make you a deal. Give me an hour to take care of the most pressing matters, and at the end of that hour, I will set everything else aside to cater to your whims and find something to entertain you." You leveled a wryly amused look his way; you were both convinced you were outwitting the other but if you were honest the two of you just liked the drama of it.

Loki's face spread in a wickedly pleased smile and you couldn't help the little twinge of attraction that shimmered through you. Hell, you were faithful, not dead. Fairly gloating, Loki turned to leave. "I’ll be back in an hour."

"Outstanding,” you replied with a thin smile.

As Loki opened the door, Bucky was raising his fist to knock on it. The two men glared at one another for a moment before Bucky rolled his eyes and stepped back, sweeping his arm out in a mockery of gallantry. Loki sneered but walked by without comment.

"Hey, doll." Once Loki was out of the way, Bucky poked his head through the door. "You got a minute?"

You replied with a flirty smile and batted eyelashes. "For you? Always." Bucky smiled sweetly as he came in and shut the door. He looked a little uncomfortable as he took the seat Loki had recently vacated. "Uh-oh," you said with widened eyes and raised brows. "Is everything okay?"

"I don't know. Is it?" Bucky was still looking a little uncomfortable, but his eyes shone with concern. You were baffled.

You looked around, your expression serious but a touch confused. "Is this a riddle?"

Bucky's face softened into a smile. "I don't see you anymore; I miss you." He leaned forward and placed his hand palm up on your desk. "If Thor isn't here, Loki is monopolizing your time."

"You have no idea," you replied with a laugh as you leaned forward to place your hand in his. You squeezed gently and would have let go if he hadn’t held on. You frowned and tilted your head. “What?”

Bucky didn’t smile, and you realized that whatever this was, he was serious. “I'm worried,” he confessed, and you could tell he was concerned that he was crossing a line. This was new territory in your friendship and such things always caused Bucky a ton of anxiety.

You felt a pang of remorse that you’d forgotten about your other friends when the Odinson brothers had come into your life. Bucky was incredibly dear to you and you knew how difficult he sometimes found living at the compound. He'd once confessed that half the time the only thing keeping him there was Steve. You sometimes suspected he relied upon your company a great deal as well, not that he'd ever said anything. You couldn't help but feel guilty for being so distracted.

Bucky let go of your hand when you stood up and walked around the desk to sit in the chair next to his. You leaned back casually and crossed your legs, hoping to make it clear by your demeanor that you did not consider the subject off-limits or over the line. “About Thor?” you inquired with a sassy smirk. “Or Loki?”

“Truth be told, both,” Bucky replied with a wry laugh, “but Loki is the more immediate threat.”

"Well, love, I have good news and bad news." You leaned your elbow on the chair arm and placed your chin on your fist. "The bad news is that Loki would drive you all mad if I didn't keep him somewhat occupied. The good news is that he's not a threat, just a pain in my ass." You dropped your hand to Bucky's forearm and squeezed gently. "I know you don't understand this, but I like Loki.'

Bucky looked down at your hand, surprised to find that it didn't bother him that you were touching his metal arm. Perhaps it was because you hadn't seemed to notice. "Why?" he asked, his voice rich with a wealth of confusion, doubt, and amused disbelief.

You laughed and used the hand on his arm to push at him. "I like smartasses. Why do you think I'm madly in love with you?"

"Fine," Bucky smiled, but his eyes still looked worried. “Just promise me that you won't make the mistake of trusting him.”

“I'll thank you to not insult my intelligence,” you scoffed in reply. When Bucky didn’t answer, just continued to watch you carefully, you rolled your eyes and answered with a wry half-smile. “Oh my god, I promise.”

“Good.” Bucky relaxed into the chair with a wicked grin. “Now, you wanna tell me everything about Thor?”

Your expression turned sly as you shot a matching grin his way. “How much time you got?”

A few days later your office door flew inward with a slam as Loki’s voice rang out. “Y/N!”

You, once again, did not bother to look up from your work. “Sure. Come on in. I'm not quite obviously terribly awfully busy or anything.”

“I don't even know what odd human things you do in here, let alone why it matters.” Loki moved to the other side of the desk and looked down his nose at you from his towering height.

You shrugged and murmured absently, “Since you're asking—"

“I most certainly am not.” Loki cut you off with a sneer.

You finally looked up at Loki, blinking to bring yourself back to the present. “Did you come in here for an actual reason, or did you just need someone to pay attention to you?”

“How is that not an actual reason?” His lips twitched ever so slightly, something you'd learned was one of his tells. He was in one of his playful moods, which was surprising considering how put out he had been the day before when you'd opted to spend your evening with Steve and Bucky. Loki had hidden it well, but he'd been irritated under the disdain when he refused to join you.

The corner of your mouth curled up just a hair as you responded. "Loki, to your astonishment I’m sure, catering to your moods is not actually in my job description."

Loki, ever mercurial, turned away from you to walk to your bookshelves. "If you’re certain you don’t have any time for me; I suppose I can amuse myself."

"I know that’s meant to send a chill down my spine." Your voice was dry as dust, but the genuine amusement came through loud and clear. "And it does, but it is not the policy of this office to negotiate with terrorists.”

"Pet," Loki's voice had taken on a strange timbre when he said the word, and it sent a literal shiver down your spine, but whether it was fear or desire you weren't entirely sure. "I’d much rather annoy you than someone else. The others aren’t as much fun."

You opted to put the sensation out of your mind. If it was fear there was little good dwelling on it would do for you. If it was desire, dwelling on it would most definitely make things worse. You answered as though his voice hadn't taken on an almost seductive tone. "If you will behave yourself for the rest of the morning, I’ll take a long lunch and give you my undivided attention the whole time. Deal?"

Loki smiled.

After you'd eaten a quick lunch, you drug Loki outside to enjoy the sunshine. Once you'd flopped down onto the grass and braced yourself on your elbows to tilt your face to the sun, you slanted a raised eyebrow in his direction. "Okay, spill. What’s your deal?"

You had your eyes closed against the light, but you could hear the sneer on his face loud and clear. "I beg your pardon?"

"Loki," you began and there was a wealth of patience in your tone. You opened one eye to fix him with a gimlet stare. "I am neither naïve nor stupid. Why are you paying so much attention to me? Is it because I'm banging your brother?"

The sneer twisted from arrogance to disgust. "For reasons that currently escape me, I actually enjoy your company." You gasped dramatically and let your muscles go limp, dropping to the ground in a mock faint. Loki rolled his eyes even as his mouth twitched. "I know. I was shocked, too."

You opened your eyes and looked up at his amused scorn. Though most wouldn't understand why, you were deeply touched. This was probably the nicest he'd ever been to a human. You smiled at him, and for once it was utterly genuine and sincere, with no sarcasm or disdain to hide behind. "Loki, are we friends?"

Loki watched you out of the corner of his eye. He had long ago learned to hide his true feelings behind whatever mask suited his needs best at any given time. He had seen in you the same tendency for all you hid behind careless charm and a sense of humor. Until this moment, however, he hadn't suspected that you hid a tender heart.

He had thought you were one like him, cynical, cold, careless. To find in your open and unguarded smile something sweet and wholesome explained one conundrum even as it raised a whole host of other problems. He felt a tiny twinge of remorse, a rarity for him even these days. He sniffed. "No. You're my pet."

"Then I expect you to start bringing me presents and treats." You closed your eyes again and spoke archly. You could tell something bothered him and assumed it was his discomfort with anything resembling sincerity or sentiment. "If I'm going to be a pet, I insist on being a spoiled one."

Loki turned his head to look at you properly. He could tell immediately what you were doing and found it both disarmingly sweet and deeply disturbing. You were far too perceptive for you own good and he still had many, many secrets to protect. "You are wasted on my brother. You know that, right?"

You hated when he did this. You steadfastly refused to discuss with Loki whatever was happening between you and Thor. Though their relationship seemed easier than you’d expected, considering the stories you’d heard from others, there was still a tension between them you didn’t understand and neither man seemed interested in explaining.

The few times Loki had commented on your relationship with Thor, he’d made it clear he disapproved. You also steadfastly refused to ask what exactly he disapproved of. You allowed Loki to tell stories from their past, but you would not talk about your present. It felt… disloyal. To both of them.

“I do not. Your brother doesn't waste a bit of me.” You kept your eyes closed but let your lips curve into a satisfied feline smile. “He uses every part.”

The horrified silence that followed had you prying one eye open to glance up at Loki. You immediately burst into fits of wicked laughter at the look of disgust and loathing you found on his face. “Why would you say such a thing to me?” he asked, his tone rich with disbelief and a hint of hurt.

“You're being a dick,” you replied with a careless shrug and a challenging grin when you’d stopped laughing.

Loki expression hardly changed, but his face took on a sinister cast that had a chill running down your spine. For the first time since you’d met him, you truly believed him capable of the things you knew he’d done. “He'll never truly appreciate you,” he mocked, both sly and cruel, “because he'll never truly understand you.”

You yawned, deliberately, as his words and demeanor were making you sick to your stomach. “You make me sound so complicated and mysterious.” You closed your eyes again, a deliberate dismissal. “It’s dumb, but I dig it.”

Loki made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a snort. “You may be able to fool those like my brother too dull and blind to see what you really are, but don’t insult me.”

“And what am I?” Your voice was harsh as you asked the question, and you sat up to look Loki full in the face. You were holding onto your temper with both hands; only the knowledge that he would love to goad you into a tantrum restraining you. “Really?”

“A realist, like me.” Loki was well aware of what he was doing. He turned his head and looked out across the grass at the main building. He wondered what it would take to truly set you off and considered it necessary to find out. “You don't concern yourself with what's right, but what's expedient.”

You frowned. This wasn’t what you were expecting, and you weren’t sure how to proceed. He was being insulting, but in a way that made you question whether that was his intent. “I prefer to think of myself as a pragmatist,” you said slowly. Your somewhat warped sense of humor rushed to the fore and you laughed as you pushed at his shoulder, not that you moved him even a little. “And I do so worry about doing what's right. I just take what's expedient into account, too.”

The corner of Loki’s mouth lifted in a small smile. Your casual shrug as you said the last only proved his point as far as he was concerned. “You also have a talent for reframing things in your favor. Of shuffling words until you're in the right. I admire that.”

“So, you're saying I'm too good for your brother because I’m too much like you?”

“No,” he chuckled. “He's too good for the both of us. I'm saying he'll never comprehend your true worth because he's too good.”

“Okay.” You weren’t sure how he’d managed to drag you into this conversation. Now that you had been, however, you desperately wanted to know why. "For the sake of argument, let's assume that I accept your premise. What's your fucking point?"

Loki finally looked at you, one brow raising in mock surprise. "Do I need one?" You raised a matching eyebrow, but yours was skeptical. Loki narrowed his eyes, his expression turning menacing. "I’m somewhat fond of you. I don’t think I’d enjoy seeing you in pain."

Unable to help yourself, even knowing you'd end up paying for it, you snickered outright. "I have bad news for you, Loki. It sure seems like you’re my friend."

The look of disgust Loki shot your way had you erupting into gales of delighted laughter. Worth it.

You never did get a straight answer out of him, but that was only to be expected. Loki could give lessons on inscrutability. You opted to file away the conversation for further contemplation at a later date.

Even though you weren't entirely sure why Loki had given you what you assumed was a warning, you were sure that Loki never did anything without reason. The reason may seem batshit crazy to you, but it was there. If he felt the need to speak on the subject, he had a purpose. However, you also couldn't discount the possibility that he was simply fucking with you for his own entertainment.

Regardless, you put it away, knowing you’d end up obsessing on it in the middle of the night during some bout of insomnia when Thor wasn’t there to exhaust you into sleep.

The next day you burst into the common kitchen in a towering rage, holding something sparkling and pink. You flung the thing at Loki’s feet, your entire demeanor pure, unbridled fight me. Pushing your face into his as best you could considering his height, you pointed imperiously at the ridiculous thing he'd left in a beautifully wrapped gift box on your desk. You shouted, your voice practically booming through the room and turning all heads your way, "Did you gift wrap a fucking leash?!"

Loki was as close to speechless as he ever got. The sight of you in a full-blown temper was something truly magnificent. Your narrowed eyes sparkled with rage and your lips parted to let furious huffs of breath through. He found it interesting that passion, whether from anger or desire, made you beautiful.

Rather than say that, however, Loki’s lips curved in an amused smile as he replied, “I thought you want to be spoiled, pet.” His expression shifted into a mockery of innocence. “Is this not what you meant?”

Loki braced for the explosion, certain he’d pushed you into losing your temper completely. Instead, the humor of the moment struck you with such force that you couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up inside you. He’d somehow acquired a cat collar that spelled out your name in rhinestones, for fuck’s sake.

As your expression melted from furious insult to genuine merriment, Loki felt another of those annoying pangs of remorse. It really was too bad. As humans went, you’d just become one of his favorites.

Part Six: Crucible here

Taglist: (Tags are open)

@lbouvet @rocknroll-is-thewaytogo @chook007 @quickies-with-quicksilver @deinopis @daylight-saver @rishlo @pebblesz892 @bibliophile1773 @bojabee @knightofreaders @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @666nunslut666 @lilulo-12 @tabbytyler @sunigyrl @hellzzzbelle @suz-123 @cheekygeek05 @pancake-pages

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#Thor Odinson #thor odinson x reader #Thor #thor x reader #thor x fem!reader #thor fanfiction #thor fanfic #marvel au #MCU fanfiction #Lightning Strikes #pantswrites #series

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reconditarmonia · 5 years ago

Text

Dear Canon Ball Author

Hi! Thank you for writing for me! I’m reconditarmonia here and on AO3 (and have been since LJ days, but my LJ is locked down and I only have a DW to see locked things). I have anon messaging off, but mods should be able to contact me if you have any questions.

General likes:

– Relationships that aren’t built on romance or attraction. They can be romantic or sexual as well, but my favorite ships are all ones where it would still be interesting or compelling if the romantic component never materialized.

– Loyalty kink! Trust, affectionate or loving use of titles, gestures of loyalty, replacing one’s situational or ethical judgment with someone else’s, risking oneself (physically or otherwise) for someone else, not doing so on their orders. Can be commander-subordinate or comrades-in-arms.

– Heists, or other stories where there’s a lot of planning and then we see how the plan goes.

– Femslash, complicated or intense relationships between women, and female-centric gen. Women doing “male” stuff (possibly while crossdressing).

– Stories whose emotional climax or resolution isn’t the sex scene, if there is one.

– Uniforms/costumes/clothing.

– Stories, history, and performance. What gets told and how, what doesn’t get told or written down, behavior in a society where everyone’s consuming media and aware of its tropes, how people create their personas and script their own lines.

General DNW: rape/dubcon, torture, other creative gore; unrequested AUs, including “same setting, different rules” AUs such as soulmates/soulbonds; PWP; food sex; embarrassment; focus on pregnancy; Christmas/Christian themes; focus on unrequested canon or non-canon ships. If writing a fantasy setting, DNW orcs, goblins, dragons, demons, etc. - please write characters as humans (or elves, I guess?)

A note: I’m generally fine with “/” ships where the fic doesn’t contain a kiss, overt declaration of love, etc. I’ll trust that you wrote it with shippy intent and don’t expect you to force in something that wouldn’t fit the story.

I've requested all f/f ships, and fic only, for this exchange. (Although on the off chance you're looking for a recip for an art treat, hit me with it. :P)

Military Officer Desperate to Redeem Her Honour/Loyal Subordinate Trying to Keep Her Alive

Berserker/Officer She's Absolutely Loyal To

Recently Promoted Officer/Her Comrade-Now-Subordinate

Crossdressing Soldier/Crossdressing Officer

For these ships, I've requested a historical setting, a fantasy setting, or an action/adventure plot. Fake-historical/AU history/"fantasy" with no magic in the worldbuilding is also great - don't feel that you have to set it in a magical world in order to justify having female soldiers when there wouldn't have been any in the equivalent historical period, there just wasn't a tag for that sort of thing. (Drama is fine too; I signed up last minute and didn't do a great job selecting all the relevant freeforms.) All of these play to my love of loyalty kink. Gestures of loyalty, trusting one another to be the best person to do the job/to know what to do and risking a lot on that. Some thoughts, though don't feel limited:

what does the loyal subordinate do to try to keep her officer alive? what does she think about her officer's honor and quest to get that honor back?

the berserker's disregard for safety or morality because that's subordinated to her loyalty to her officer or trust in her officer's ethical and practical judgment; the officer keeping her on the metaphorical leash to protect her/her reputation or for a more farsighted goal; one protecting the other fiercely; romantic/sexual tension eventually resolved; what do other people think of them?

a situation where the newly promoted officer has to call on her knowledge of her former comrade's strengths and decide how to use her on a mission/in battle; how does the now-subordinate feel about the officer? would she always have followed her anywhere, or does having that be a function of rank change anything?

how do the soldier and officer find out? have they been passing as men for long when they meet each other, or recently?

—

Crime Boss/Right Hand Woman/Undercover Police Officer

Re-Enactor Playing Male Soldier/Re-Enactor Playing Woman

These are ships where a slightly more modern or real-world setting might make sense (I've requested modern, noir, historical, or urban fantasy), but honestly, do whatever strikes your fancy; maybe it's cyberpunk crime, or they're in the future reenacting a space battle! Again, last-minute signup, didn't properly think through all the potential freeforms, sorry. These are separated out from the others on account of my having a few setting freeforms I'd be fine with for these but not the others; they're still about my mad love for loyalty kink and, in the case of the re-enactors, for stories about stories and narrative and performance. Some thoughts, but again, don't feel limited:

mutual three-way attraction to each other’s deadliness between the undercover policewoman, right-hand woman, and crime boss; the policewoman developing a loyalty to the boss, whether out of real admiration/hitting it off, or because to maintain her cover she has to act loyal, and the feelings follow on from the act; maybe the right-hand woman isn’t a rival for the boss’s attentions in this sense, even if her loyalty and skills are an obstacle to the officer’s police goals, and instead their loyalty is common ground; any of them kinking a bit on the danger

how did the re-enactors decide who they would play? do they fall for each other first or do their characters fall for each other first? (slash, have sex because their characters might want to, or because they want to and then wonder if their characters would); tropey scenarios for historical war plots played as re-enactment

#dear author letters #original work

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dillydedalus · 5 years ago

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what i read in july

THAT’S MORE LIKE IT aka i’m finally out of the (relative) reading slump for good & my bro james joyce was there

men explain things to me, rebecca solnit the original mansplaining essay is great, and still scarily relevant; the others in this collection (most on feminist issues) are also quite good; some aspects are a bit dated & problematic so be aware of that. 2.5/5

erschlagt die armen!, shumona sinha (tr. from french, not available in english) short but very impactful novella about a young french woman, originally from india, who works as an interpreter in the asylum system and becomes more & more broken by this system of inhumane bureaucracy and suffering, until she snaps and hits a migrant over the head with a wine bottle. full of alienation and misery and beautiful but disturbing language - the title translates to ‘beat the poor to death’ so like. yeah. 3.5/5

fire & blood: a history of the targaryen family I, george r r martin look, it’s a 700-page-long fake history book about a fictional ruling dynasty in a fictional world, and i’m just That Obsessed & Desperate about asoiaf (and i don’t even care about the targs That Much). anyway, now i know more about the targs than any ruling family from, you know, real history, which is like, whatever. this is pretty enjoyable if you are That Obsessed, although i will say that some bits are much better than others (there are some dry dull years even in everyone’s fav overly dramatic dragon-riding incest-loving family) and the misogyny really is. a lot. too much. way too much. BUT i did really like Good Best Queen Alysanne (her husband king joe harris is alright too i guess) and i found my new westerosi otp, cregan stark/aly blackwood, who both have Big Dick Energy off the fucking charts. 3.5/5 (+0.5 points for cregan and aly’s combined BDE)

the old drift, namwali serpell hugely ambitious sprawling postcolonial nation-building novel about zambia, told thru three generations of three families, as well as a chorus of mosquitoes (consistently the best & smartest parts). there is A LOT going on, in terms of characters, of plot points, of references to history (the zambian space programme) and literature (finally my knowledge of heart of darkness paid off) and thematically, and honestly it was a bit too much, a bit too tangled & fragmented & drifty, and in the end i probably admire this book more than i liked it, but serpell’s writing is incredibly smart and funny and full of electrical sparks 3.5/5

a severed head, iris murdoch the original love dodecahedron (not that i counted). iris murdoch is fucking WILD and i love her for it. this is a strange darkly funny little farce about some rich well-educated londoners and their bizarre & rather convoluted love lives. not as grandiosely wild as the sea the sea, but fun nevertheless. 3/5

midnight in chernobyl, adam higginbotham jumping on the hype bandwagon caused by the hbo series (very weird to call the current fascination with chernobyl a hype bandwagon but you know). interesting & well-written & accessible (tho the science is still totally beyond me) & gets you to care about the people involved. lots of human failure, lots of human greatness, set against the background of the almost eldritch threat of radioactivity (look up the elephant foot & see if you don’t get chills), and acute radiation syndrome which is THE MOST TERRIFYING THING ON EARTH . 3.5/5

normal people, sally rooney honestly this is incredibly engrossing & absorbing once you get used to how rooney completely ignores ‘show don’t tell’ (it works!), i pretty much read the whole thing in one slow workday (boss makes a dollar, i make a dime so i read books on my phone on company time, also i genuinely had nothing to do). i also think rooney is really good at precisely capturing the ~millenial experience in a way that feels very true, especially the transition from school to uni. BUT i really disliked the ending, the book never engages with the political themes it introduces (esp. class and gender) as deeply as it could and the bdsm stuff never really gets TIED UP LOL. so overall idk: 3.5/5

störfall: nachrichten eines tages, christa wolf quiet reflective undramatic little book narrated by a woman waiting to hear about the outcome of her brother’s brain surgery on the day of the catastrophe at chernobyl - throughout the day she puts down her thoughts about her brother and the events unfolding at chernobyl, as well as the double uncertainty she is trying to cope with. really interesting to read such an immediate reaction to chernobyl (the book came out less than a year after chernobyl). 2.5/5

the man in the high castle, philip k dick it was fine? quick & entertaining alternative history where the axis powers win the war, some interesting bits of worldbuilding (like the draining of the mediterranean which was apparently a real idea in the early 20th century?) but overall it’s just felt a bit disjointed & unsatisfying to me. 2.5/5

fugitive pieces, anne michaels very poetic & thoughtful novel about the holocaust, grief, remembrance & the difference between history and memory, intergenerational trauma, love, geology and the weather. i’m not sure how much this comes together as a novel, but it is absolutely beautifully written (the author is a poet as well) and very affective. 3.5/5

american innovations, rivka galchen short collection of bizarre & often funny short stories about neurotic women whose furniture flies away, or who grow an extra breast, or who are maybe too occupied with financial details. very vague & very precise at once, which seems to be the thing with these sort of collections. 3/5

fool’s assassin (fitz & the fool #1), robin hobb YAASS i’m back in the realm of the elderlings!!! i thought this was one of the weaker installments in the series - i still enjoyed it a lot, and Feelings were had, but it just doesn’t quite fit together pacing-wise & some of the characterisation struck me as off (can i get some nuance for shun & lant please?) and tbh fitz is at peak Selfcentred Dumbass Levels & it drove me up the fucking wall. molly, nettle & bee deserve better. still, completely HYPE for the rest of the trilogy. 3.5/5

JAMES JOYCE JULY

note: i decided not to read dubliners bc it’s my least fav of joyce’s major works & too bleak & repetitive for my mood right now AND while i planned not to reread finnegans wake bc……. it’s finnegans wake…. i kinda do want to read it now (but i also. really don’t.) so idk yet.

a portrait of the artist as a young man, james joyce y’all. i read this book at least once a year between the ages of 15 and 19, it’s beyond formative, it is burnt into my brain, and reading it now several years later it is still everything, soaring and searing (that searing clarity of truth, thanks burgess) and poetic and dirty, and stephen is baby, and a pretentious self-important little prick and i love him & i am him (or was him as only a pretentious self-important teenage girl reading joyce can be him - because this truly is a book that should be read in your late teens when you feel everything as intensely and world-endingly and severely as my boy stephen does and every new experience feels like the world changing). anyway i love this book & i love stephen dedalus, bird-like, hawk-like, knife-blade, aloof, alienated, severe and stern, a poet-priest-prophet if he could ever get over himself, baby baby baby. 5/5

exiles, james joyce well. there’s a reason joyce is known as a novelist. this is….. a failed experiment, maybe. a fairly boring play about an adulterous love-square and uh… love beyond morality and possession maybe??? about how much it would suck for joyce to return to ireland??? and tbh it’s not terribly interesting. 2/5

travesties, tom stoppard a wild funny irreverent & smart antic comedy inspired by the fact that during ww1, james joyce, lenin, and dadaist tristan tzara were all in neutral zurich, more or less simultaneously; they probably never met, but in this play they do, as dadaist poetry, socialist art critique, and a james joyce high on his own genius & in desperate need of some cash while writing ulysses, AND the importance of being earnest (joyce is putting on a production of it) all collide in the memories of henry carr, who played algernon & later sued joyce over money (tru facts). not my fav stoppard (that’s arcadia) but it’s funny & fizzy & smart & combines many many things that i love. 4/5

ulysses, james joyce look i’m not really going to tell y’all anything new about ulysses, but it really has everything, it’s warm & human(e) & cerebral & difficult & funny & sad & healing & i always get a lot out of it even tho there’s bits (a lot of them) i’ll never wrap my head around. ultimate affirmation of humanity or whatever. also stephen dedalus is baby. 5/5

dedalus, chris mccabe the fact that this book (sequel to ulysses about what stephen dedalus might have done the next day) exists and was published ON MY BIRTHDAY is proof that the universe loves me.

anyway this is very very good, very very clever, extremely good at stephen (less good at bloom but his parts are still good), engages w/ ulysses, portrait & hamlet (& others) very cleverly & does some cool meta and experimental shit. y’all it has stephen talking to a contemporary therapist about how he’s stuck in joyce’s text which is all about joyce & very little about whoever stephen is when he’s not joyce’s alter ego/affectionate but slightly amused look at younger self and ithaca is an interview w/ the author about how his relationship to his dad influenced his response to ulysses and I’M INTO IT. the oxen of the sun chapter replaces the whole ‘gestation of english prose’ w/ just slightly rewriting the first pages of about 10 novels published between ulysses and now & it does lolita w/ “bloom, thorn of stephen’s sleep, light in his eyes. his sire, his son’ and i lit. screamed. anyway i don’t want to give this 5 stars (yet) bc i think some of the experimental stuff ended up a bit gimmicky & didn’t add that much to the text but fuck. that’s my boy & i want to reread it right now. 4.5/5 ALSO it’s a crime no literary weirdo woman has written ‘a portrait of the artist’s sister’ about delia ‘dilly’ dedalus, shadow of stephen’s mind, quick far & daring, teaching herself french from a 3rd hand primer while her father drinks the nonexistent family fortune away and her older brother is getting drunk on a beach & starting fights w/ soldiers bc he’s a smartarse

#the books i read #long post

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kahuna-burger · 6 years ago

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Continuing stargate/mcu fusion

Second (longer) part of my Stargate fusion.

Things ceased to be fine just after they were shown into Stark's office, before Bruce had even finished his introduction. One moment Bucky was trying to blend into the expensive wood paneling, the next his sidearm was aimed directly at their host’s head.

“Buck?” Steve drew his own weapon and tried to get between Bruce and Stark while also keeping the door in his peripheral.

“He's a Goa'uld.”

Stark didn't seem phased by either the accusation or the weapon pointed at him. “As the internet kiddies are saying these days,” he made finger guns at Bucky, “No, you.” He cocked his head in puzzlement and one hand turned to point at Bruce. “And maybe you? What's up there?”

Before the scientist could do more than blush at the reminder of his unique situation, Steve stepped in. “That’s not the issue here. Who are you, and how did you avoid the screenings after they got you back from the Trust?”

“I'm Tony Stark - you came to me, remember? And I accepted the MRI that was offered.” Before he could respond to the dodge, Stark continued, “If you’re asking why they didn't detect my roommate, we worked out how to avoid scans and hide her naquada signature years ago.”

That also explained why Rumlow hadn't felt anything when the former host accompanied the extraction team, but the implication that a major industry leader had been a Goa’uld for years wasn't making him feel any better. “There's no ‘we’ for your kind, and even if you’re claiming to be a Tok’ra, I wanna talk to the snake, so again,” Steve raised his gun in a more obvious threat, “Who are you?”

“I'm afraid Thal's more of a silent partner, so the only me here to talk to is me, Tony Stark. Try a new question.”

He was distracted from his frustration by Bucky's hand on his arm. He had a look of intense concentration which usually meant he was trying to get information from his snake. The Goa'uld assassin which called itself Winter Soldier had been suppressed but not removed by their Wakandan allies, and had a wide range of helpfulness depending on its mood. Finally, Bucky nodded curtly at Stark. “Show us your mark.”

The man obviously knew what he meant, because he stood immediately and began removing his shirt. “Without dinner first? How forward; we haven't even been formally introduced.”

“These are Sergeant James Barnes and Captain Steve Rogers,” Bruce put in helpfully. “Though I imagine you recognize them.”

Stark nodded absently. “Sleeping Beauty and the Lost Knight, stars of all my childhood fairy tales.” He gave Steve a narrow look. “I assume all the good qualities my dad couldn't stop talking about will become more apparent when I'm not under suspicion of being a false god.” He slipped the shirt off his shoulders, and Bruce took a half step forward to gaze at the iridescent mark on his chest that seemed to be a smiling theater mask.

“Thal… Thalia, the muse of comedy?” The scientist blinked a moment and Bucky lowered his weapon in seeming satisfaction. “I would have guessed Urania.”

“She's most known for comedy, but has strong interests in the sciences, too. Turns out she also loves programming.”

Steve admired Bruce's encyclopedic knowledge of seemingly every topic they might run into, but briefly wished Clint were here so he wouldn't be the only lost one. “Okay, so instead of being a metaphor, muses are snakes that partner like the Tok'ra? I really think we need to talk to it directly.”

Bucky shook his head. “The Muses aren't like the Goa'uld, or the Tok'ra, for that matter. They never take over their hosts, not even to speak. They communicate with the host mostly through feelings and images, and give inspiration for creation, which they then enjoy experiencing…” He broke off with a thunderous scowl and the odd eye movements which usually meant an internal argument with his own parasite then snapped angrily, “You absolutely are not!”

Steve wondered if the snake was really being annoying enough to throw Bucky out of his professionalism, but decided that is was probably more of a signal that he believed Stark to be harmless, and went with it. “What's it doing now, Buck?”

His best friend turned to him with a long-suffering look that wouldn't have been out of place on their middle school teacher's face. “Winter wants to be known as the Muse of Combat.”

Stark fumbled the last of his shirt buttons in his helpless laughter, and Bruce even smiled. “Well, with the way you describe his behaviour in the field,” the quiet scientist began.

“It’s not a Muse, it's a damn backseat driver!”

Finished redressing, Stark approached Bucky, raising his hand slightly. “May I?”

Though he had relaxed out of combat mode, Steve still watched with concern as his friend made Parasite Face again then nodded. Stark touched Bucky's face gently, moving well into his personal space, and in spite of his usual aversion to touch, he returned the gesture and tilted his head down slightly so they were almost sharing breaths. Stark's eyes were shimmering in the first true sign of possession he had shown, and Bucky's were closed tightly.

After a few minutes while Bruce stared in fascination and Steve started to feel distinctly uncomfortable, both men stepped apart simultaneously, taking deep breaths as if they had forgotten the need for oxygen until separating. “Thank you, Sergeant.”

“Um, sure.” Seeing Steve's concerned look, Bucky gave a reassuring smile. “The snakes were talking, uh, directly. Like how they can recognize each other, even in new hosts? I guess when they are close enough it can get pretty detailed.”

“That's amazing,” Bruce breathed. “That pheromone based communication could be considered an actual conversation? You'll need to write up a full brief on it later.”

"Actually, it's not- well, actually we should probably get back on the original track rather than a further digression.” Stark settled back behind his desk and took a deep breath. “I cannot be a part of Stargate Command, or consult on any projects to combat the Goa'uld.”

Steve straightened and felt his anger rising. He should have known it was too good to be true. “So your snake plays by different rules but is still loyal to the System Lords? You realize that they are at war with us? That’s treason.”

“Cool your tits of patriotism, Rogers.” The man was infuriatingly calm. “Muses are neutral in the wars between the System Lords, with the Tok'ra or Asgard, rebellions against Goa'uld, and even the intra-planetary wars of humans. Thalia is a contemporary of Apophis and Anubis and spawned with that principle in place from a Muse even older; you are not going to be the one to sway her.”

Bruce had been doing his usual conflict avoidance, but spoke up suddenly. “You became her host when you were a hostage in Afghanistan. That's why you divested your weapons division into its own company back then.”

“I agreed to do it when we bonded.” He shrugged slightly. “The weapons contracts were holdovers from Howard's time, and a feeling of responsibility to the troops, but I had been focusing my efforts more in other areas even before Thalia came along. The new company is doing fine, though we had to do some fancy footwork on contracts for me to take all the patents I held personally with me.”

Steve was about to respond when Bucky touched his arm gently. “Don't go there, Captain.” His face was pinched like it had been continually before he and ‘Winter’ came to a rough truce. “From the history I'm getting, the Tok'ra and possibly some of our other allies would take serious offense if we tried to strongarm a Muse. And he didn't say he couldn't consult with the Program at all.”

“Oh!” A huge smile spread across Bruce's face. “I'd love to have you take a look at the dialing computer! I think some of your work on learning programs could really translate well to the decision trees we're working with.”

“Now that does sound interesting. Why don't we talk NDAs and security concerns, and we can work out a rough consulting schedule. Oh yeah, and I almost forgot.” He turned back to the two soldiers who were starting to ease back out of conversation range. “Don't think you're keeping that gorgeous piece of tech hidden under your jacket, Sergeant! I took my shirt off, fair's fair.”

Bucky let out a deep sigh and started unbuttoning his jacket while Steve tried to keep a straight face if not a supportive one. “God damn geek catnip…”

#mcu #stargate #fusion #tony stark #muses #fic #trying to make read more work on mobile #curse you tumblr app

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