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lewishamil10n · 3 years

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hi! zero obligation to answer this ask but I’m an old school SPN fan (went to a convention in 2013 and everything lol) who stopped watching in season 9 & hasn’t seen a full episode past that point. I’m wondering if you could recommend any episodes from season 9-15 that you think are essential viewing for the Sam x Dean relationship? I know episodes like Red Meat and Baby are popular but any others you can think of would be amazing!

hi anon! sorry this took a while, i was compiling the list, and then halfway through my app crapped out and i had to do it all over again. thanks, tumblr :')

anyway, here is the comprehensive list of my personal fav samdean episodes! i'll be putting most of it under a cut, since it's kinda long, and i'll add a samdean factor (sdf) rating out of ten at the end of each episode summary.

here goes!

season 9

actually my least favorite season, but it does have a couple good episodes

9.05 dog dean afternoon – dean becomes a dog. sort of. yeah. humorous motw (monster of the week) episode with some hurt!sam and some good face-caressing action from dean. sdf 7/10.

9.07 bad boys – motw, has flashbacks to teenage dean. some retconning about john that might bother you if you're a john fan. overall a good episode, with a moment at the end showing just how much sam means to dean. sdf 6.5/10.

9.13 the purge – boys go undercover at a spa. also the episode that introduces donna. motw, lots of humorous moments, including the classic sam and dean being confused for a couple thing. also, sam doing yoga. the boys do have an argument at the end though, for plot-related reasons. sdf 7.5/10.

9.23 do you believe in miracles – overall kind of a boring episode, but has a samdean moment at the end when dean decides to take a temporary vacation from the mortal plane. you could just watch that on youtube though, with the keywords "i'm proud of us." i wouldn't say it's worth putting yourself through the entire episode. up to you entirely. sdf 5/10.

season 10

10.03 soul survivor – actually one of my favorite episodes. not top 5 or anything but it's up there. demon dean chases sam around the bunker a lot, he was nice and scary, and the suspense was fun. references to married samdean at the end. sdf 7.5/10.

10.05 fan fiction – basically a love letter to the fans. motw at a high school play based on the supernatural books. lots of brother moments, by proxy and in actuality. the show pokes fun at itself in a light-hearted way. the samulet is brought up. good stuff. sdf 8.5/10.

10.06 ask jeeves – one of my absolute favorite episodes to rewatch. motw, classic locked-room mystery except in a house. sam and dean stuck with rich pretentious WASPs. sam versus cougars. the phrase "homosexual murderers." overall a very good episode. sdf 8.5/10.

10.12 about a boy – motw, deaged!dean shenanigans. sam gets to be the big brother for once. lots of banter. a cute scene with dean telling stories of his and sam's childhood. a fun episode to watch. sdf 7.5/10.

10.14 the executioner's song – oh man, what an episode. plot-related. dean versus cain, excellent fight scene, even better emotional samdean moment later. it's a short moment so you could just youtube it if you wanted, but overall i would recommend this episode. sdf 8/10.

10.19 the werther project – motw with some plot-related stuff. warning for suicide. really good episode, though intense. good samdean moments at the end, including hurt!sam and dean stroking his hair. sdf 9/10.

10.23 brother's keeper – season finale. suspenseful episode, i liked it. watch for the sam versus dean fight, and death's scenes. the brother moment pay-off is SO GOOD. in my opinion this is where spn started getting good again. sdf 9.5/10.

season 11

aka my favorite season

11.04 baby – easily my top 10, if not my top 5. motw told from the impala's perspective. so many brother moments, and improvements on their relationship like open communication etc. really brilliant. don't miss this one. sdf 10/10.

11.05 thin lizzie – fun episode until the axe murders start. sam and his thing for serial killers, dean indulging him. the implication of bed-sharing. banter and fun. good stuff. sdf 8.5/10.

11.08 just my imagination – motw episode, super cute moments. sam getting affirmation that he's a hero. flashbacks to younger sam and dean. dean being jealous of someone else being protective of sam. lots of humorous moments. sdf 9/10.

11.10 the devil in the details – plot episode. watch mainly for sam standing up to lucifer, and dean protecting him. excellent excellent moments. warning: you might feel rage by the end of it due to a certain angel's bad decisions. sdf 9.5/10.

11.11 into the mystic – motw at a senior home. eileen is introduced. sam accidentally says fuck in asl. good episode. broment with sam thinking about his and dean's future. sdf 8/10.

11.16 safe house – amazing episode. motw. the boys work a case worked by bobby and rufus in the past. excellent transitions between present and past, bobby and rufus banter, and dean reaffirming that sam is a part of his soul. sdf 9/10.

11.17 red meat – do i need to say any more. possibly my favorite episode of ALL TIME. motw. hurt!sam, reckless!suicidal!dean. straight up romeo and juliet parallels. badass sam. the boys being compared to a married couple. the classic spn vibe is [chef's kiss] sdf 15/10.

11.19 the chitters – motw episode featuring two of my favorite one-off characters. more classic spn vibes, specifically wendigo (monsters in the woods). more of dean comparing him and sam to a married couple. the usual. sdf 8.5/10.

11.20 don't call me shurley – the show could have ended at this episode and it would have been perfect. more classic spn vibes, with a case in a small town. more sam and dean moments than you know what to do with. soft touches and reaffirming their love and obsession with each other. a long-standing theory confirmed. and of course, one of the most important objects in their personal history. sdf 13/10.

season 12

also one of my favorite seasons

12.01 keep calm and carry on – no bro interaction in this one, but you might enjoy it if you like hurt!sam and feral!protective!dean. also, dean talking mary's ear off about sam. sdf 7/10.

12.04 american nightmare – motw with one of my favorite one-off characters again. sam's past is revisited. brothers have some nice moments of banter, but it's mostly sam-centric. sdf 6.5/10.

12.06 celebrating the life of asa fox – motw in which dean literally forgets his mother's existence because a door comes in between him and sam. great episode. another locked-room mystery in a house; the brothers attend the wake of a famous hunter and run into other hunters who see them as legends (also what inspired my url lol). trouble happens. sdf 8.5/10.

12.09 first blood – separation anxiety leads them to make a stupid deal in order to break out of a maximum security facility and see each other again. separation described as "worse than hell." unironically. badass winchesters. underrated episode, one of my favorites. i rewatch it a lot actually. sdf 9/10.

12.11 regarding dean – motw. a curse causes dean to start losing his memory. he begins forgetting everything, including sam. angst and brother moments ensue. rowena is there. good stuff. sdf 8.5/10.

12.20 twigs and twines and tasha banes – the witch twins return! good motw episode with interesting characters, paralleled with the boys. wish we'd gotten a banes twin spin-off or at least more episodes with them. sdf 7.5/10.

12.22 who we are – sam and dean getting themselves out of a death trap. dean finally gets to use his rocket launcher. the words "hey lunatic" are said in the way most people say "i love you." bro hug. dean is proud of his badass little brother. ass is kicked. the brothers do separate midway through the episode but the broments more than make up for it. dean stands up to mary for everything she did to her boys with her choices – especially sam. extremely emotional episode, sdf 10/10 would recommend.

season 13

13.11 breakdown – motw. dean takes a visibly depressed sam on a hunt to help donna out. some epic hurt!sam ensues. brother moment at the end where they talk about sam's depression. sdf 7.5/10.

13.12 various and sundry villains – humorous motw episode. dean gets put under a spell by a witch and is convinced she's his soulmate. sam, his actual soulmate, is not amused. wrestling and shenanigans ensue. rowena is there, as she usually is when witchy shenanigans are going down. she and sam talk about their lucifer-related trauma. good episode overall. sdf 8.5/10.

13.15 a most holy man – motw (sort of) where the boys hunt down a skull, knock the fuck out of a priest, and engage in general shenanigans. humorous broments scattered throughout the episode. jealous!dean makes an appearance. sdf 8.5/10.

13.17 the thing – motw. sam gets kidnapped, dean loses his shit. lovers are separated across an interdimensional rift, while dean debates whether it's safe to take sam across another interdimensional rift. parallels between the brothers and a pair of lovers? yep. must be another day ending in y. sdf 9/10.

13.19 funeralia – wonderful, wonderful episode. rowena and billie are BRILLIANT. dean freaks out again because he's separated from sam. important revelation about sam and rowena at the end. sdf 8.5/10.

13.21 beat the devil – sam and dean go to the alternative universe to save mary and jack. BAD SHIT happens to sam and dean can't help him at all, leading him to go literally mute with grief. so. many. emotions. no one matters to these boys as much as each other and this episode is testament to that. sdf 10/10.

13.22 exodus – HUG. BROTHER MOMENT. BADASS BOYS. SAM BEING A LEADER. GOOD STUFF ALL AROUND. sdf 9/10.

13.23 let the good times roll – dean and sam get separated again thanks to lucifer and dean makes an impulsive decision for sam's sake. the world's silliest angel fight ensues. beautiful moment at the end that unfortunately doesn't last. sdf 9.5/10.

season 14

14.04 mint condition – halloween motw episode. nice homage to slasher flicks, plus sam and dean being cute in their insurance guy outfits. broment in the beginning AND end of episode. dean calls sam pretty a lot. one of my fav episodes to rewatch. sdf 9.5/10.

14.08 byzantium – nice angsty episode. sam grieves jack when he, in true winchester style, takes a temporary vacation from the mortal plane. he and dean (and cas) fight to get their kid back. a good ep if you like sam angst and dean worrying about him. sdf 7.5/10.

14.11 damaged goods – another angsty episode. dean resorts to desperate measures to deal with his annoying skull roommate issue. sam is not happy about it but reluctantly goes along. featuring the hug-from-behind that's become legendary in gifs, and dean saying Those Three Words along with other things that indicate that sam is the most important person in his life. sdf 9/10.

14.12 prophet and loss – the boys go to help donatello who's in a coma. sam is angsting over dean's decision from the previous episode. dean is angsting over sam's angst. castiel is just kinda there. then sam has a breakdown which short-circuits dean's brain and resets it back to common sense. brohugs and tears ensue. one of my favorite hugs mostly due to how Baby Brother sam is in it. sdf 10/10.

14.13 lebanon – DO NOT SKIP THIS. lots of cute moments showing sam and dean's life in their town, plus. john winchester. SO MANY BROMENTS. literally all they do is talk about how much they love each other. they get closure from john. lots of tears are shed. i will never be the same again. sam and dean are each other's endgame and i will go feral. sdf 14/10.

14.17 game night – an okay episode, though it has a great hurt!sam broment near the end. worth watching for that itself. dean takes care of his baby brother and i cry a little into my bowl of chips. sdf 8/10.

season 15

15.01 back and to the future – another okay episode. there's a nice scene where dean fixes up a bullet wound in sam's shoulder, but you could probably find that on youtube too. sdf 6/10.

15.04 atomic monsters – kinda a depressing episode even by spn standards, tbh. motw, again where dean takes a visibly depressed sam on a hunt. the hunt hits too close to home, sam's depression gets worse, and he talks to dean about it in the end of the episode. it was a good scene, was nice to see sam discuss his mental health and dean listening. sdf 8/10.

15.11 the gamblers – motw. the boys go to a bar in alaska to win back their luck from the goddess fortuna. some other plot stuff happens with castiel and jack but eh. the boys play pool and have some nice moments. also, snarky sammy! sdf 8/10.

15.14 last holiday – motw. the boys accidentally release a wood nymph named mrs. butters who looks after them in a creepy kinda grandmotherly fashion. they get to have birthdays! but of course she's not what she seems, etc. etc. some hurt!sam, a few cute brothers-and-jack-as-family moments. sdf 6.5/10 (some marks reduced due to unnecessary and nonsensical inclusion of saileen)

15.17 unity – plot episode, honestly just watch for the moment near the end where sam is able to talk dean out of his existential-crisis-induced mind-controlled state, breaking chuck's hold over him. it's a great moment, but like. i'd say go watch on youtube instead of watching the entire ep. sdf 7/10 due to the moment.

15.19 inherit the earth – the boys finally take back control of their own lives and destiny. the universe is back in order with a new deity. classic sam and dean versus cosmic entities, with nothing but each other and their sheer willpower. beautiful, beautiful ending. the show could have ended here and been perfect. sdf 10/10.

15.20 carry on – the episode that might finally land me in therapy. the series finale that made this entire 15-season ride so worth it. lovely motw episode, full of love and passion and heart, and a monologue from dean that will have you in tears. The Three Words are spoken. he calls sam his baby brother. hands are held and foreheads are touched. i was literally sobbing while watching this, and i never cry at tv shows or movies. even now when i think of this episode my heart feels heavy and full in the best of ways. the entire episode is a love letter to the pilot, to the boys, and to everyone who's stuck with them. it is the distilled essence of what made this show special. i still haven't been able to rewatch because of how emotional it makes me. sdf 34693/10.

well anon i hope this long list helped!!! enjoy your watch <3

#supernatural #samdean #asks #anonymous #naila.txt

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dameronology · 3 years

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love in the time of p.t.a meetings {marcus moreno} - 2/5

summary: your kid has taken a liking to marcus moreno - and frankly, so have you {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing, mentions of divorce & very brief mentions of his wife’s death

i don’t normally update series this quickly but this was originally one imagine that reached about 11k words lmao so it’s all written, just being split up. i’ve also decided it’s gonna be 5 parts instead of 3, cos i reread the ending and realised i was not done by a longshot. enjoy!

- jazz

Mondays. You hated ‘em.

Everything just seemed so...amplified. The peace and relaxation of the weekend was over and everyone had to go back on the grind. The traffic always seemed worst, the clock seemed to tick backwards and you just wanted to be at home, in bed. After an incident involving the dog, a toaster and a small pan fire, you were already running twenty minutes late and you knew in your soul that your child’s shoes weren’t on the right feet. That, and also he was wearing a Chewbacca onesie to school. It had been a compromise. As in, he was refusing to go to school unless you let him wear the damn thing. It was a compromise. You’d lost.

On the bright side, the past weekend had been the best you’d had in a long time. Jack had spent all of Saturday afternoon at the Heroics headquarters and he was so worn out, he’d slept through all of Sunday. Marcus Moreno must have a been a fucking wizard, because you’d been trying to tire the kid out for five years. You made a mental note to do something in return, though you sensed there was nothing on God’s green earth that could possibly amount to babysitting the world’s most exhausting child for six hours. You were allowed to say that, because Jack was your world’s most exhausting child and you wouldn’t have changed him for anything.

‘New week, huh buddy?’ You glanced at Jack in your rear view mirror. He was sat on his booster seat, legs dangling back and forth and a power ranger action figure in his hand. ‘A fresh start.’

‘Can we listen to the song from Cars?’ Jack ignored your comment.

‘You gotta try and behave yourself this week. You’ve seen what happens to people who do follow the rules, right? They get to go work at the Heroics-’

‘- I wanna listen to the song from Cars!’

You wanted to have a deep conversation. Jack wanted to listen to Life Is A Highway. That was...actually, it was exactly how you’d expected that to go. It wasn’t that off of the time you were trying to explain your divorce to him and he’d interrupted you to demand that you put Toy Story on.

‘Sure thing, kid.’ You rolled your eyes, reaching across to hand him on your phone. ‘D’you know how to spell it-’

Your sentence was cut off by the sound of guitars blaring from the speakers. At least he could work out Spotify.

By some miracle, you managed to make it the school with a few minutes to spare. Because most people had dropped their kids off earlier (see: on time), the lot was pretty empty. That meant you could once again dump your car without regard for the painted white lines -- who had time to park properly on a Monday morning? That was for people who had their shit together.

Leaping out the car, you almost cursed when you tripped over your heels. You didn’t have to wear them, but since you’d started working in a managerial role at your office, you figured it made you look a little more professional. And what was the harm in being a few inches taller? It made you feel powerful.

‘C’mon, J.’ You pulled open the back door, helping Jack leap out the car.

‘You know, I’m starting to think you can’t park your car at all.’

‘Marcus!’ Jack practically flew out the car, his tiny body suddenly jolting with excitement.

‘Morning, buddy.’ He replied; he then moved his brown eyes to gaze at you, offering a smile. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey, how you doing?’ You greeted him. ‘I don’t normally see you here in the mornings.’

‘Yeah, I normally drop Missy off at the front but it was one of those mornings, you know? She was taking a little more convincing than usual to go in.’

‘My kid is in a Wookiee onesie and backwards Thomas the Tank Engine shoes and you have the audacity to ask me if I know those mornings? I am those mornings.’ You replied.

Marcus chuckled. ‘I think it’s a look. I especially like the Lightning McQueen sunglasses.’

‘Do you have a super suit?’ Jack asked. ‘Can I try it on?’

‘C’mon, Jack. You’ve already managed to get a tour of the HQ.’ You ruffled his hair. ‘And we gotta get going to school.’

‘But I wanna ask more questions.’ He muttered. ‘I have over a hundred.’

‘Don’t I know it.’ You murmured under your breath. ‘But school is more important.’

‘I don’t wanna go anymore.’

‘I let you wear the onesie. That was our agreement, remember?’

‘All good superheroes have to get an education.’ Marcus reasoned. ‘And if you go in, maybe I can show you my suit at some point?’

'Okay!’ Jack grinned. He wrapped his arms around your waist in a quick hug, before peering up at you with a toothy smile. ‘See ya later!’

He turned on his heel and ripped his backpack from your hand, suddenly speeding up the path and towards school. Had...had that just happened? For once in your life, had you not had to wrench him from the car and wrestle him through the school gates? Move aside, Harry Potter, because Marcus Moreno was the new wizard in town. You might have been a little jealous that he was so good with your son but at the same time, it made you like him even more. He was the first parent at the school that had leant into Jack’s wild tendencies. And, whilst you tried not to think too much about it, even his own dad had struggled to do that. It made your heart warm a little.

‘You are seriously my favourite person.’ You chimed, leaning back against your car.

‘Kids with character are way more fun than kids who are well-behaved.’ Marcus replied.

‘I spent forty-five minutes scraping string cheese out the USB port of my computer yesterday, but sure.’

He chuckled. ‘No, I’m serious. I don’t encourage Missy to misbehave but she does get herself into some situations. I choose to see it as a testament to her intelligence rather than disobedience.’

‘I refuse to believe for a second that Missy ever misbehaves.’ You shot back back. ‘She seems so well-behaved.’

‘What you see in the parking lot is not a reflection of our whole lives.’ He reminded you.

‘Right, because despite appearances, I’m actually a very put together parent.’ You snorted. ‘But I get what you mean.’

‘I gotta get to work now, but it was good to see you.’ Marcus pulled his car keys out his pocket. ‘I was serious about that suit thing, by the way. He saw my katanas on Saturday.’

‘Katanas?’ You spluttered. ‘My kid managed to start a fire last week out of nothing and you want to give him katanas?!’

‘Maybe I can show you how to use them.’ He flashed you a smile. ‘And then you can pass on the knowledge.’

‘That’s probably an even worse idea.’ You shook your head with a laugh, pulling open your car door. ‘I’ll see you around.’

‘You as well. Have a good day, pretty lady.’

Did you stop thinking about your exchange at any point during the day? Absolutely not. In fact, you’d already written an email to the local deed poll office to change your legal name to Pretty Lady.

No, but in all seriousness, you’d been a little giddy about it. Had he been flirting? That didn’t seem like a long shot. You got on well, you’d hung out a bit over the weekend and not to toot your own horn, but you were by no means bad looking. Tired and a little frazzled, sometimes? Yeah. But anyone would have been lucky to have you and you were doing a better job at recognising that, especially since your divorce.

You were almost ecstatic when it got to 4PM and you hadn’t received a single call from Jack’s teachers. That meant that he had behaved, and what Marcus had said had worked. Because you worked past his finishing time, he usually went to the after-school club till you could come to collect him - it had been a lifesaver, especially since you couldn’t always leave early. He usually came home with some kind of weird arts and crafts. Last week, it had been an unidentifiable item made of dried macaroni and glitter. He’d placed it pridefully on the old fireplace in your lounge.

After saying goodbye to your co-workers, you headed out the building. Your office was right in the city centre and not too far out from the school. It was a nice place to be; your lunch hour, when you could head out to a street cart and eat your food in the local park, was usually the highlight of your day. It was when you could exist just as you. When you were at work, you were in charge on your entire department. When you were home, you were a parent 24/7. That time to yourself was vital.

As you were heading to your car, your phone began to ring. Your heart almost jumped out your chest when you saw Marcus’ name - he hadn’t called you before, only texted to sort out the previous weekend’s plans with Jack. You quickly organised yourself (he couldn’t see you, dumb ass) and cleared your throat.

‘Hey, everything alright?’ You brightly greeted him.

‘Hey! Are you out of work now?’

‘Yeah, I’m literally just leaving. What’s up?’

‘Look, I hate to do this but I’ve had an emergency at work - superhero related, you don’t wanna know - and I’m not gonna be out for hours.’ Marcus sounded stressed. Yeah, I feel that you thought. ‘Would you be able to pick up Missy and possibly have her for a few hours? If not, that’s totally-’

‘- I’d be glad too!’ You interrupted him. ‘I owe you one anyways for the weekend. And this morning, actually.’

‘You don’t owe me anything.’ He sounded surprised that you’d even imply it. ‘But I will definitely owe you for having Missy.’

‘Hey, it’s cool!’ You insisted. ‘Do you want me to drop her off at yours later?’

‘I can come and collect her if you text me your address?’

‘Perfect.’ You smiled. ‘I’ll see you later then?’

‘You’re a lifesaver.’ Marcus said. ‘I’ll text Missy to let her know to find your car instead of mine. I would ask for your plate number, but your car is...’

‘...bright red, covered in dents and hard to miss?’ You finished his sentence.

‘Exactly.’

You’d been in the same situation before; pulled between work and parenting, with Jack stuck at school and an important meeting that felt like it was never ending. It was hard to get a sitter on such short notice - or afford one, sometimes - and it was just another one of the million, stressful situations that single parenting could get you into. If you could help Marcus even a little bit, of course you were going to. You knew he’d do the same for you. Heck, he had done the same for you.

Jack and Missy were both chatty on the way home. Given that she was a little older than him, her conversational skills were strikingly better. It was nice to ask someone about their day and not get where are my Cheetos? as an answer. From what you gathered, she hated science class, enjoyed gym, and her favourite subject was lunch. That didn’t come as a surprise to you - her dad was a literal superhero and probably encouraged physical activity.

(You’d seen his arms, okay? They were more than enough to go on. I digress).

The only thing that made you wish you’d had a little more notice on having her for the evening was the state of your apartment. The place wasn’t bad; you’d lived there for the better part of eight years, and it was crammed with soft furniture and millions of blankets, as well as photos of you and Jack and his questionable art projects. It was just that you hadn’t done the dishes that morning, there was a mountain of shoes by the door and the pancakes from the previous night were still stuck on the roof.

Missy barely blinked an eye; the minute she saw your dog, she’d abandoned her bag and was playing with him.

‘Hey buddy!’ She grinned. ‘What’s he called?’

‘That’s Oppy.’ You replied, hanging your jacket up. She didn’t need to know that it was short for Optimus Prime. No guesses on whose idea that had been.

‘He’s so cute!’ Missy continued. ‘I’ve been asking dad for a dog for ages but he won’t budge.’

For some reason, that surprised you a little. Marcus might have been the leader of a super-hero team and a public figure, but you could tell he would do anything for his daughter. You knew because it was the same for you with Jack. He might have ruled your whole life but you would have hung the damn stars in the sky for him if he asked

‘They’re a lot of work.’ You reasoned. ‘I have to wake up every morning at 6AM to make sure he gets a walk. Then there’s the matter of-’

‘- mum! Optimus Prime pooped in the bathroom!’

‘The matter of that.’ You murmured under your breath.

The rest of the evening went pretty smoothly. You fed the kids some leftover takeaway and between the dog and Netflix, they were easily entertained. Jack seemed to take a liking to Missy, which was good because it meant he wanted to sit with her the entire time instead of bouncing off the walls. She had the same patience as her dad, especially when he asked her a million questions about superheroes. It took her twenty minutes to convince him that Batman wasn’t her uncle, and a further fifteen to make him believe that she hadn’t met Captain America.

Jack had asked you a few times about whether or not he would get siblings. Of course, it would be different to any interactions with Missy because he would have been the oldest, but it did get you thinking. You were finally in a place where you were moving past your former relationship and healing from the wounds. Time wasn’t much of an issue either - you’d had Jack when you were young and barely out of college. You couldn’t possibly imagine having any more kids right now, not when it was just the two of you, but in the future? You’d never rule out meeting somebody new. If anything, you were hopeful. Your first relationship had been your only one, and it had ended badly. You wanted to experience love for what it actually was, and not what you thought it was supposed to be.

Not long after 7PM, there was a knock on your door. By that point, both Missy and Jack had passed out on the sofa with Star Wars playing quietly in the background. It had been her idea to watch it - she had good taste. Marcus had clearly done a good job.

‘Hey!’ You greeted him as you pulled open the front door. ‘Come in quick, it’s fucking freezing out there.’

‘Thank you.’ Marcus came inside, dusting a few snow flakes out his hair. ‘Seriously, I can’t say it enough-’

‘- it’s fine!’ You shook your head, offering him a smile. ‘Missy’s been great. She’s really chatty and it was nice to have a coherent conversation with someone that isn’t about Paw Patrol. But was everything at the office okay?’

He was quiet for a minute. ‘Yeah. We uh, we lost someone. A hero.’

‘Shit, man. I’m sorry.’ Your voice fell quiet. ‘You wanna come in? You look like you could probably take a moment.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course! Missy and Jack are both asleep on the couch anyways.’ You pointed through to the living room. Marcus leant over to have a look, smiling slightly at the sight.

‘Thank you. I’d appreciate that.’

He took a seat at the kitchen counter. Your old bar stools were a little old and wobbly, but Marcus didn’t seem to notice. If anything, he admired the place. It was cluttered as hell and filled with useless, old items - cook books you didn’t use, random magnets, assorted toys - but it was nice. His house always felt a little cold and clinical. He’d moved a lot over the course of Missy’s life and now that he was retired from the field, he’d sworn to her that their current house was going to be permanent. Whether or not it felt like home was another question entirely.

‘I would offer you a drink but all I have is..’ you paused, opening the fridge. ‘Nesquik, vodka or apple juice.’

‘You know what? A Nesquik doesn’t sound too bad.’

‘I like your thinking, Moreno.’

After quickly fixing up the two drinks, you slid into the seat beside him and handed him one. You had never in a million years imagined a situation where Marcus Moreno would be in your kitchen drinking chocolate milk, but here we were. It had clearly been a long day for him and you had enough of those to last a lifetime, so you knew how it felt. Coming home after a day that had beat your ass into the ground and having to put on a brave face for your kids was difficult at best.

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ You gently asked.

‘Yeah, I’ll be okay - it just always fucks me up a bit.’ Marcus murmured quietly. ‘Hits a little too close to home.’

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that you knew what had happened to his wife. You knew why he’d retired, and why he and Missy had moved away from their original city six years ago.

‘Sorry, that was too deep-’

‘- it wasn’t!’ You quickly cut him off. ‘I’ve had random women come up to me at pick up time and say they’re sorry to hear about my divorce. People I don’t even know. So really, after that, nothing is too much.’

He smiled slightly. ‘They always say they’re sorry but why would you bring up a subject if you have to apologise for it?’

‘Exactly!’ You replied. ‘Especially when I’ve moved on. It’s been a year.’

‘It’s the same with me. Missy and I miss her everyday but we don’t mope about it. We just...we look back with fondness on the good memories we have. You can’t move forward if you’re stuck in the past, no matter how much it sucks.’

‘That’s...that’s wise.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘S’pose that means I should take down the dartboard I have with my ex’s face on.’

‘From what I’ve heard, he seems like he should have more than a dart board.’ Marcus snorted - then he froze. ‘Wait, not that I’ve heard stuff, I mean...I don’t listen-’

‘- Marcus!’ You whacked his arm. ‘It’s fine. One of the other kid’s mums started telling me about the terrible divorce someone was going through but she realised she was gossiping to the one who was going through it.’

‘I don’t know how much of what I’ve been told is true, but it sounds like it was bad.’ His hand hovered over where yours was rested on the counter.

‘The rumours pretty much get the gist of it.’ You replied. ‘But we were talking about your thing, so I don’t wanna take away from that.’

‘Hey, it’s okay.’ He finally moved his hand, fingers gently curling underneath yours to intertwine them. ‘If even half of the whispers are true, he sounds like an asshole. You and Jack both deserve better than that.’

Whatever people had said, it had sort of covered the gist of it. You’d married too young and had a kid too young - your ex had been a terrible husband and an even worst husband. He’d chastised Jack for being...well, being Jack. He’d stay out late with his friends, spend money on things neither of you needed and tried to make you take the blame for it all. After giving him a few too many chances, you’d finally reached breaking point and kicked him out. Filing for divorce and taking on being a single parent was single-handedly the hardest and bravest thing you’d ever had to do. In a way, you were glad you’d done it when Jack was still so young - he didn’t really understand any of it, even when you’d try to explain it in child friendly terms.

‘I think people judge me for it a little sometimes.’ You confessed. ‘They see me struggling but they know I made the choice to separate from him, like I brought it all on myself.’

‘That’s bullshit.’ Marcus plainly stated. ‘Parenthood isn’t a dependent thing based on whether or not you’re still married to the other parent. It’s unconditional and permanent.’

‘I should tell him that, but I also don’t want him back in our lives.’

‘I know it’s none of my business, but he doesn’t deserve Jack. He’s one of the best and brightest kids I’ve ever met.’

‘Thank you. I’m glad he doesn’t seem like a complete lunatic.’

‘He doesn’t deserve you either.’ Marcus continued. ‘Again, I might be out of place saying this but you are...you’re amazing. I was a wreck when I was suddenly on my own and you’re still holding everything together and working your ass off.’

‘You’ve noticed?’ You quirked an eyebrow.

‘Yeah, in passing.’ He admitted. ‘I remember I once saw you carrying three separate science projects at once and then Carol made a passing comment that you were on your own and...I just kinda admired you from afar.’

‘You, Marcus Moreno, admired me?’ You blinked at him in disbelief. ‘I find that hard to believe.’

‘I wish I’d had my shit together half as much as you did when I lost Missy’s mum.’

‘But the difference is you didn’t have a choice in your situation. I chose to boot his dad out-’

‘- you gotta stop discrediting yourself.’ He shook his head. ‘And stop blaming yourself. You did what was right for your kid and that is the most admirable thing of all.’

‘You really think so?’

‘I know so.’

The conversation slowly drizzled away, leaving you two to just look at each other. It was hard to tear yourself away from his brown eyes - there was a lot going on behind them. Fear, pain, anguish, admiration. He was one of the most mind-blowingly impressive people you’d ever met; single dad, superhero, electric car owner. He probably didn’t have a mortgage too and that was kinda hot. You were none of those things and yet, here he was, with you, managing to connect on a level that you never had with anyone. Both of your situations were tough, but they’d brought you together.

Marcus Moreno was pretty fucking fearless (came with the job, you figured), and he wasn’t afraid to make the first move. He slowly inched his head forward and in return, you gravitated towards him. Your lips met halfway in a soft kiss, his hands moving to firmly hold your waist as he pulled you closer.

You almost stumbled out your chair with the movement, but his grip on your hips meant you didn’t slip. Instead, he placed you up on the counter, standing up as he did. It took you a moment to adjust to the position, but with your legs resting on either side of his, you could reach forward and lean on him. You had one hand tangled in his hair and the other on the back of his neck - you’d surprised yourself with that. It had been months since you’d kissed anyone, but you weren’t as rusty as you thought.

‘Oh my god, is the superhero gonna be my new dad?!’

Marcus suddenly jumped backwards at the sound of Jack’s voice. He was stood in the doorway, post-nap hair covered by a lopsided Chewbacca hood. His eyes were like dinner plates, even though he was grinning from ear to ear.

‘Uh...’ you glanced between him and Marcus. ‘We were just...we were...’

‘I had something in my eye.’

‘He had something in his eye.’ You quickly agreed. ‘But now it’s out, so Marcus is gonna go home.’

He knew you didn’t mean it rudely - it was more of a desperation thing. The longer he stayed, the more questions Jack would come out with. Missy could have overheard too and that would have been twice as much to explain. So really, the sooner he got out, the better.

‘Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll grab Missy.’ Marcus said, scratching the back of his head. ‘Thank you again for looking after her.’

‘You don’t need to keep thanking me.’ You shot back.

He disappeared into the living room for a moment, reemerging with a sleeping Missy in his arms a moment later. Your eyes met again, and he gave you a soft smile.

‘I’ll call you.’

‘Yeah, sure.’ You nodded. ‘See you, Marcus.’

True to character, the next hour was spent being pelted with questions from your over-curious son. He didn’t shut up once when you were bathing him and he got even louder when you were reading him his best time story. On the bright side, you’d managed to get him to change out of his slightly manky Wookiee onesie and into a clean Buzz Lightyear one. Normally, you would have argued that he couldn’t live in pyjamas, but if it kept him quiet? It was a price you were willing to pay.

‘Night, kiddo.’ You pressed a kiss to his forehead, switching on his nightlight. ‘Remember our deal, yeah? If I buy you a Happy Meal tomorrow, you won’t mention what you saw to any of your friends?’

‘You said library was bad.’

‘No, it’s bribery.’ You corrected him. ‘And do as I say, not as I do.’

‘Sounds bad, but okay.’ He sleepily murmured. ‘Night.’

‘Night.’ You stood up, flicking out his bedroom lights.

‘Wait, mum!’ Jack suddenly sat up, as though he’d remembered something. ‘You never said no.’

‘No to what, buddy?’

‘When I asked if the superhero was my new dad.’

Well, fuck.

taglist: @naivara-duneimith @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @lyanna-the-giantsbane @phoenixhalliwell @crazycookiecrumbles @bitchin-beskar @comphersjost {message me to be added!}

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno imagine #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x y/n #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character headcanons #pedro pascal characters x reader

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imagine-darksiders · 3 years

Text

Old-Timer

Chapter 2 - A new friend

It must be testament to how vulnerable you're feeling that your first instinct is to try and scramble backwards and away from the maker as he carefully lowers himself down onto one knee, his eyes drinking in each little movement you make, as though he's convinced that if he glances away, you might disappear into thin air.

“Well now,” he muses, watching you back yourself up into the base of a gnarled tree trunk, “What manner of wee beastie are you?”

Your body turns as rigid as the wood pressed to your spine when he shuffles closer to get a better look at you, blocking your view of the trees beyond his impressive girth. He must notice the trepidation on your face because he suddenly hesitates, his once eager expression growing soft. Somehow, despite the sense of powerlessness you feel now that you're face to face with a maker who stands at least three heads taller than Thane, you find yourself easily disarmed by the dashing smile he throws at you, and when he speaks, his voice is as low and gentle as the rumble of a faraway thunderclap.

“You're a comely sight to see in these old woods,” he utters gently, his knuckles resting on the soft grass near your shoes, “What's a pretty, little thing like you doing in a place like this, ey?”

Thrown, you're almost inclined to protest to his observation. Covered in streaks of mud from where you'd rolled across the ground, leaves and twigs sticking out of your hair, red-eyed and wounded... You feel about as far from 'pretty' as it gets and even open your mouth to say as much, but the maker opens his first, a curious frown tugging at his sleek, golden eyebrows. “Don't reckon I've seen anything like you before...”

One of his enormous hands lifts to his beard and he gives it a few, thoughtful strokes. “Hmm. You're no demon. N'you're too small to be an angel. Well, that, and -” He pauses, gesturing at you vaguely. “- No wings.”

In contrast to the maker's pensive expression, you adopt a look of bafflement. Either he's been living under a rock and doesn't know a human when he sees one, or -

...Oh.

A chill runs down the length of your spine and you swallow thickly as it occurs to you that you might have travelled further back in time than you'd previously thought.

Wetting your lips, you suck down a lungful of the cool, evening air, not missing how the maker's ears instantly perk up in anticipation. “I-I'm a human,” you manage to croak.

All of a sudden, you find yourself jumping out of your skin when the giant bodily recoils and his eyes burst open, wide as saucers. “Maker's beard!” he exclaims, an enraptured grin pushing at the bristles of his moustache, “You speak Common!?”

“Uh...” Falteringly, you place a hand over your racing heart and raise one, cautious eyebrow at him. “I suppose? I mean, i-if that's what we're speaking right now, then... yeah?”

Huffing out a soft chuckle, the maker tips his head to one side and mutters, “Well, blow me down...”

For several moments, he regards you in silence until the corner of his lips begin to quirk into a coy grin. “S'pose that means you understand me when I say you're about the bonniest little creature I've ever laid eyes on?”

Now it's your turn to bark out a quick laugh. “Ha! You're charming,” you tell him honestly, noting that his very broad, very bare chest puffs out at the praise, “But while the flattery is appreciated, I'm afraid I'm a bit... um...”

'Preoccupied' is probably the most appropriate word for it, but in lieu of a better explanation, you reach forwards and brush your fingertips delicately over the cuts in your leg, hissing through your teeth when even that barest of touches elicits a blinding flare of white-hot agony.

You've never seen an expression shift from warm and amused to sober and serious so quickly before.

“He hurt you?” the maker growls dangerously, shelving any intrigue he holds for his enigmatic discovery, at least for the time being. You find it rather touching that he looks so perturbed on your behalf.

'Huh. Makers,' you muse fondly. Even here in the past, it seems that they're a protective bunch.

Bracing your hands on the ground, you try to push yourself up onto your boots, but the wounds make such a feat more painful than you'd expected and you let out a grunt as you thud back down onto your rear, huffing in frustration before you start to try again.

However, you don't manage to get far.

Movement catches your eye and you glance up, surprised to find yourself presented with the maker's titanic hand, held with the palm pointed to the tree tops and his index finger extended out towards you.

Rolling your gaze up the length of his vast, muscular arm, you meet his eyes...

...and very nearly have the breath knocked out of you by the earnest glow radiating from them. Long, golden lashes sweep gracefully up and down as he blinks at you, and softly, almost in a whisper, he asks, “Need a hand?”

You're so taken aback by the hypnotic pull of his blue stare that you can only nod wordlessly and lift an arm, slowly extending your hand towards him until you can rest your palm on the pad of his forefinger.

The moment your skin connects, the maker seems to buckle and he drops his mouth open, letting a shuddering breath roll out from behind his tusks. You realise that he's moved his gaze down and adhered it to the sight of your hand sitting daintily on his fingertip, looking woefully lost amongst the expanse of rough-hewn skin.

For some time, the maker doesn't utter a sound, nor does he move until eventually, you have to clear your throat, and with a jolt, he gives his head a brief shake, roving his eyes up to meet yours once more. “You're... so small,” he says incredulously, as though he's only just noticed.

One of your brows slants upwards and you level him with a cool smirk. “Yes, well... I'd say that you're so big, if I didn't think you were the type of maker who would let it go to his head.”

He appears appropriately startled by the quip and for a second, you have to wonder if you've perhaps stepped over some invisible boundary by falling back on humour as a defensive tactic, but then, the maker's fluffy moustache quirks up around a grin and he says, “Oh, I think I'm startin' to like you, little one.”

For good measure, he makes sure to flash you a wink that has you ducking your head to hide your face. Still sporting that dashing smile, he raises his hand and tugs you carefully onto your feet. Well. Foot. You make the mistake of trying to place weight on your bad leg and it immediately tries to collapse out from underneath you.

“Wheyup! Easy there.” A thumb and forefinger promptly catch you around the midriff and prevent you from falling onto your backside again. The pads of hot, calloused fingers press into your torso with just the barest hint of pressure, as though the maker is afraid that you'll break if he squeezes any harder.

“I'm okay, I'm good,” you try to reassure him, “Just... need to get my balance, is all”

He looks far from convinced and furrows his brow, giving you a skeptical hum as he begins to turn you around.

At first, you try to resist, perhaps due to some long-buried instinct telling you that having your back exposed to a complete stranger is a terrible idea.

You can practically hear the frown in his tone when he murmurs, “Stop squirming, let me see.”

Swallowing past an enormous lump, you force yourself to keep still whilst the maker drops his face closer to inspect your injury.

All is silent for a few minutes, and you're about to go and ask if it looks as bad as it feels when he suddenly blows a long, drawn-out whistle from his lips. “Shouldn'ta let that demon sod off so lightly,” he grumbles to himself, curling his free hand into a fist and then raising his voice to tell you, “Bad news is, you're still bleedin'. It's slow, but we'll need to stop it, soon.”

“Shit,” you mutter, “What's the good news?”

The maker's warm breath hits the base of your neck as he sighs softly. “Good news is, now we match.” He loosens his grip, prompting you to twist yourself around and raise a curious glance at him as he wordlessly lifts a hand and taps his left shoulder, drawing your attention to a trio of long, pale pink scars that start at the front of his clavicle and sweep over the bulging bicep before disappearing somewhere behind it.

“Ouch,” you grimace sympathetically, “How in the world did that happen?”

Eyes dropping shut, he looks about as proud as a peacock, sticking out his chest until it's almost obnoxiously swollen and replies, “Same way as yours did! Stalker got the jump on me 'bout two thousand years ago. He left his mark, but don't you worry – I left plenty of my own.”

“Glad to hear it.”

With a wistful sigh, the maker's chest deflates and his eyes blink open and return to your leg, a scowl immediately darkening his chiseled features. “Course, that was the day I learned never to give 'em the opportunity to get close..” As he speaks, you notice a few wisps of blue magic trailing off his fingertips like smoke, which he promptly flicks away with a grunt.

“Yeah, well. Believe me,” you huff, gesturing to the back of your leg, “If I could use magic too, I wouldn't have let it get close enough to do... this.”

“Wait. You can't use magic?”

You shake your head.

“None at all?” he urges.

“Unless you count that one card trick I know, then... Nuh uh.”

“Well, I'll be darned...” His blue eyes sparkle with boundless curiosity and his jaw falls open, ready to start bombarding you with an array of questions, but at that moment, a gasp gets stuck in your throat and your face is warped by a sudden grimace, despite your valiant efforts to hide it, and just like that, the maker's jaw snaps shut.

Finding out who and what you are will have to wait, it seems. Right now, no matter the depths of his intrigue, the most pressing matter is that there's somebody who needs his help. And Stonefather strike him down if he isn't a maker with a damn sense of gallantry. Pressing his lips together, he studies you for a few more seconds before suddenly giving a decisive nod. “Right. I've wasted enough time yapping. Before anything else, we need to get those wounds seen to. I haven't had much practice with healing spells myself,” he admits reluctantly, “But we have a shaman back in the village who's better at them than most.”

Wait... Your heart does a strange little buzz. Did he just say a shaman?

Could he be talking about Muria? You have to admit, you could really do with seeing her calm, familiar face right about now – even if she won't recall you. And besides, if she's here, then... perhaps Eideard might be too. You hardly dare hope.

The maker must have misconstrued your anxious expression for fear, because his fingers close around you a fraction more tightly, no doubt to discourage you from trying to flee. “Now, don't you start fretting,” he says in a rush, “You'll be sticking close to me, I won't let nothing and nobody hurt you, understand?”

His conviction is inarguable and for added measure, he thumps a fist against his broad chest, a clear demonstration of the promise he intends to keep. You find it easy to believe him. Death would probably scold you for being so trusting, but then... Death isn't exactly here.

And besides, for even the smallest chance at seeing Eideard again, you're willing to take a risk in trusting this herculean maker.

Speaking of whom... He's fixed you with what you assume is meant to be a stern frown, but the severity of the line between his brows is superseded by an underlying desperation that bleeds into his voice and his eyes, as though he really doesn't want you to say no.

“Listen, m'not leavin' you out in these woods, not like this... I don't want to have to force you but... I'll not be takin' no for an answer.”

As if he really thinks you'd rather take your chances out here alone than go with him to Tri Stone.

Gritting your teeth through another, sudden wave of prickling heat that shoots up your leg, you heave a dramatic sigh. “Well, I guess if I really don't have any say in the matter...”

“'Fraid not,” the maker replies, drawing solace from the slight tilt of your lips, so much like the smile of a fellow maker.

With a final shrug, you take a step back and gesture to the west. “All right then. Lead the way, I'll follow on behind you.”

All at once, the maker's brows furrow so heavily that his luminous, blue eyes almost disappear beneath them.

“...What?” you ask after a few seconds of being frowned at. Again.

In response, he scoffs in such a way that you feel you must have personally offended him somehow. “You're not walking,” he declares, his hand reaching for you.

Caught off guard, you stammer, “Oh, I – I really don't mind,” retreating backwards until the titanic appendage inevitably catches up with you and he proceeds to wrap his thick, immovable fingers around your body, lifting you effortlessly off your bad leg and into the air.

Once he's holding you however, he seems to falter, his expression evening out as he peers down to where you're dangling, small and injured between his fingertips. The moment doesn't last long though, for he soon shakes his head and states, “If you think I'm letting you walk all the way back to my village on that duff leg, you've got another thing coming.”

“But I-”

“-Ah! No,” he cuts you off sharply, bringing you up to his eye-level as he cups a palm beneath your legs, lowering you onto it with a gentleness that shines right through the facade of his gruff tone, “You keep standing on that leg and you'll only hurt yourself more.”

Frankly, you're too weary to argue with him, and you can't say you mind that you're no longer standing on a leg that feels as if it could buckle out from underneath you at any second. Perhaps you should just be grateful that you're being spared a painful walk. Embarrassed to be so helpless, yet resigned to the fact, you expel a defeated huff and allow him to settle you down into his cupped hand, sliding the other one underneath it to keep you steady in a manner that reminds you of how you might carry a butterfly, mindful that every twitch of your fingers might cause it to get scared and fly away. He remains like for some time, hunched over himself with you caught in the hollow created by his palms and the breeze playing through his golden tresses. It suddenly becomes very difficult to keep your eyes from wandering down to his pronounced collar bones, so it comes as somewhat of a relief when he finally gets to his feet.

With slow, measured steps, he strides through the copse of trees and on towards the trail leading through Baneswood, but rather than lift you up onto his shoulder as you expect him to, he instead lowers you to press you flush against his bare chest.

The breath leaves your lungs in a tiny wheeze.

A veritable blanket of soft, silken chest hair instantly begins to tickle at the your face and you become painfully aware that directly in front of you is a half-naked giant, adorned in nothing but a pair of leather trousers and steel-capped boots, a fact that makes it very difficult for you to concentrate on the question he abruptly poses to you.

“So, what species did you say you were?”

You wonder if he has any idea that you can hear and feel every beat of his powerful heart as it thumps away just above your head. “Huh? What? Oh, uh, I – I'm a human,” you fumble, easing yourself backwards so that a tuft of his chest hair stops fluttering across your bottom lip.

“A... a hoo – man?” he echoes uncertainly, oblivious to the warmth blossoming across your cheeks, “Never heard of 'em.”

That, at least, is enough to distract you from the strangely intimate situation. “Huh? Wait, really?” With a grunt, you manage to stretch your injured leg out across his palm and peer up at the underside of his beard. “You've never heard of humans? Humanity? Er, homo-sapiens?”

The maker simply shakes his head once and replies, “Nope.”

Slowly, you draw in a faltering breath and venture one step further. “...Not even E-Earth?”

The anticipation of seeing him lift his eyes to the treetops in contemplation is unbearable.

Mouth hanging open enough for you to get a glimpse of his tusks, he utters a pensive, “Uuuuh,” and then lowers his gaze once again, lips pressed together into a grim line, “Sorry, haven't the foggiest.”

“I... oh...” You fall silent, peering down at your hands. “Okay.” So... Once again, you may well be the only human in existence.... You aren't sure why that fact turns the hole in your stomach into a bottomless pit - it isn't as though this would be the first time you've existed in a universe without humanity in it, after all.

You're too busy staring blankly at the gold-draped chest in front of you to notice that the maker's mouth is flapping open and closed repeatedly as he tries to find a word that won't cause the frown on your face to turn any deeper. Clearly, he must have said the wrong thing, and now the pretty stranger sitting in his palm is... sad? He guesses you're sad, or something of the like, provided your expressions and emotions match up in the same way that his fellow makers' do. Perhaps he's somehow offended you by claiming to have never heard of your species. 'Fix this,' a small voice at the back of his mind insists whilst he stares down at the crestfallen hunch of your shoulders.

“That being said, I, err...” He tries, glancing to the side when you look up at him expectantly, finding that he's incapable of meeting your gaze whilst you're looking so despondent. “Could just be I've never heard of you. I'm not... precisely what you'd call a worldly maker. Hardly been far out of Tri-Stone, 'cept on a few occasions. And, heh, well. I think I'd remember meeting someone who looked like you.”

“Ha.” Though you offer him a polite smile, your mind only half on the maker's soothing timbre. The other half is busy puzzling over how in the world you're ever going to get back to your own time. Even if you didn't have your fellow humans, you at least had Death and the friends you've made on your journey across the universe. At least there, you were closer to home. Here, separated by countless eons, you can't help but feel more lost than you've ever felt before.

Meanwhile, the maker watches your chest rise and fall with a deep sigh.

Damn. Still a frown. No matter, he can be nothing if not persistent. Not many have been able to resist his charm, and there's still a way to go before he reaches the edge of the Stonefather's Vale. He keeps trying. “You know what? I'm betting our elder will have heard of you.”

“Elder?” Like a flipped switch, you bolt upright in his palm, ignoring the spear of agony that tears at your wounds because you dared to move too quickly.

The maker raises an eyebrow at your sudden exclamation, perplexed by the jarring and unexpected shift in your demeanour. “Uh... Aye?”

Noting his bewildered expression, you make a conscious effort to reel yourself back, but deep down inside, your heart is jumping apprehensively. So far, he's mentioned a shaman and now an elder, and there's only one elder maker you know of.

“Eideard,” you breathe, too softly for him to catch.

Tilting his head to the side, he twitches his ears forwards and asks, “What was that?”

You very nearly open your mouth to say your old friend's name a little louder, but something gives you pause and you slowly let your jaw click shut once again, uncertainty creeping in to settle over your brain. How prudent would it really be to let on that you've technically already met this elder and shaman? Do the rules of time travel apply outside of science fiction novels and theoretical physics? How will the knowledge that you're from a different era affect the flow of time? How will it alter the universe, if it does so at all? What if you change something now that has a drastic effect on the future?

Just trying to make sense of it all is starting to give you a headache, so you decide upon the option that won't raise too many questions that you, quite frankly, don't have the energy to answer right now.

Besides, better to be safe than sorry. Offering the maker a casual shrug, you finally say, “Nothing.”

----------------------------

Night has almost entirely fallen by the time you emerge from the gorge that leads from Baneswood into the Stonefather's Vale. It's just dark enough now that you've begun to see tiny pinpricks of stars sweeping across the vast horizon and as your gaze rolls over the valley, you suddenly come to a pause when it lands upon a hill to the north, just poking out above the cliffs that form a hem around the vale. At first, you're puzzled, tilting your head and squinting through the dim light. 'Where is Stonefather's Peak?'

The towering mountain that once cast its shadow across the entire village is... gone? But how? You could have sworn it used to be standing right where that hill is.

“Oh. My. God,” you whisper, letting your mouth drop open as the realisation hits you.

'That hill is Stonefather's Peak!'

“You must be a long way from... wherever home is, eh?”

Tearing your gaze off the distant, juvenile mountain range, you card a hand through your hair and chuckle dryly, “Oh, buddy. You have no idea.”

“Buddy?” he echoes, tipping his head sideways so that his hair falls smoothly over one, bulbous shoulder.

“Buddy? Oh, it means, uh, like a pal, or a friend.”

“Friend?” he asks hopefully as a small smile begins to emerge from underneath his moustache.

Exhaling in amusement, you wave your hand dismissively and sigh, “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

The maker raises his chin high into the air, sporting a proud grin and picking up his gait.

#darksiders #old timer #reader x maker #ha uh oh #Eideard #fluff #whump #oh boy

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dreamsmp-au-ideas · 3 years

Text

Teddy Bear Anon has purposed yet another interesting addition to the Immune AU which gives me plot ideas! In particular, a scene that would really help give past Dream a strong push into his character arc.

I like to image that immune!Dream’s character arc starts with the death of immune!Puffy. Sure, maybe he’s not sad yet, but he feels something for the woman who declared herself his pseudo mother. It’s what helps to crack the shell enough for the rest of the immune gang to start weedling their way into his heart. Immune!Dream after spending enough time watching the group he, starts to realize that yeah, connections to other people isn’t a weakness. It really is a strength. It’s something that takes time for him to come to terms with because Techno seems like a testament to the fact connections are a weakness. He was unbeatable until his horse got kidnapped. His only connection, his only weakness. But then there’s Tommy who seems to represent the complete opposite.

Where Dream represents strength from caring too little, Tommy represents strength from caring far too much. Now I’m a sucker for bamf Tommy, and I like to personally imagine that maybe the Immunes hold out for a year or two before they cave and try to make the portal. So Tommy has what really boils down to a two year training arc on top of already being a child veteran (I like to canonize SMP Earth as well because personal preference and it gives me even more room to make Tommy suffer. SMP Earth being canon? God, so much fucking trauma considering how the others treated him, a 15 year old child, like an adult.) Anyway Dream slowly realizes connections with one another are what kept the remaining Immunes alive, and he tries to force his younger self to understand that. Tries, but doesn’t really get far. Up until what everyone else calls The Fight.

Tommy’s always just kind of screwed around in fights as long as there’s only a threat to him. We know he has a tendency to throw if MCC is any indicator. But then they time travel and maybe they spend some time in the past trying to get the situation sorted and the past’s Dream maybe just kinda does something to Tubbo. Doesn’t even have to be big, it just needs to clock as a threat to Immune!Tommy who’s already lost his Tubbo and refuses to let his younger self go through that. So Tommy goes completely ape shit on the younger Dream. Sure, it’s only been two years for this Tommy. He’s probably, like, 18 or 19 at most. Still a child as far as a lot of people are concerned. He shouldn’t be stronger than Dream or Technoblade, and in the few cross group sparing sessions they’ve had he isn’t. He’s stronger than his younger self but no where near these two demi gods of combat. But then Dream suddenly registers as a threat to Tubbo in Immune!Tommy’s eyes and he makes the mistake of mocking Tommy while he’s at it. He knows that immune!Tommy lost his Tubbo and maybe the past Dream is lashing out slightly or trying to get some kind of foothold in Tommy’s psyche. He isn’t doing anything near what immune!Dream has done, but it’s enough to piss Tommy off. So immune!Tommy challenges Dream to a fight and Dream immediately realizes the mistake he’s made when Tommy starts to destroy him.

Say even Techno’s there for some reason or another and he realizes what’s going down so he tries to calm Tommy down, joining the fight just as Dream is loosing it. The situation quickly turns into the first time Techno’s ever gotten his ass thoroughly kicked by Tommy, leaving everyone spectating baffled (Tommy’s younger self partly included). They’re certain this kid is going on some rampage and none of them can stop him but the moment Dream and Techno are both taken care of (wounded, not killed, the older Tommy is always careful about that. He even throws a splash healing on them with some indifferent kind of disgust that hides the fact he does still care to some extent even hurting as he is.) Tommy immediately just switches focus to outright doting on Tubbo, ignoring any muttered Clingyinnits in favor of ensuring Tubbo is fine. Tubbo is completely find and just as confused, but the point stands and neither Tommy ends up leaving Tubbo’s side for the rest of the day. The younger Tommy, after all, is the only one the older Tommy’s told the full story to regarding the future (even when he couldn’t trust his own family he was always able to trust himself with the secrets that mattered, so he prepares his younger self in case the worst comes to pass.)

The older Dream, immune!Dream, he doesn’t get involved. He sit on the side lines and just kinda laughs, the sound drowned out by Sapnap’s loud encouragements and Sam’s half hearted attempts to get Tommy to stop (he could have stopped Tommy immediately if he’d stepped in. Sam is after all the only person on earth Tommy listens to without hesitation, but Sam lets it happen and pretends he tried.)

Immune!Dream just kinda smirks at his younger self later that night and mentions something about attachments really making you weak. After all, it’s not like the only time Tommy takes a battle seriously is when someone he cares about is in danger. It’s not like Tommy would turn the world into a seared ball for Tubbo, and Tubbo would do the same in return. It’s not like they’ve watched the people they care about temporarily rebuke the Crimson just to give the Immunes those precious extra seconds needed to survive in a fight. Attachments, they’re just a weakness.

The younger Dream doesn’t know how to respond to that. It’s the first time he thinks about his older self maybe being right.

Before I go I wanna leave you with two more ideas for the Immune AU

First up, Wilbur is eight years older than Tommy give or take. Wilbur had Fundy when he was around 16 and Tommy was around 8. Tommy was the best damn uncle he could be and for a while Tommy and Fundy were really stupidly close. They were both apart of the raised by Wilbur club and Wilbur was trying his damn best. Fundy aged/matured (physically and mentally) faster than a regular person for a while. They believed it was because he was a fox hybrid and Wilbur was ready to lose Fundy too soon. When Fundy was equivalent to 18 in human years though his aging process suddenly slowed to a crawl and his tail split into two, at which point the group realized he was actually a kitsune and it was just those first 8 years that passed by quickly (and Wilbur had a lot of questions for the now missing Sally who he’d thought was a salmon hybrid, genuinely, but became exceedingly less sure.) His family knows he’s a kitsune, but Fundy hid it from most of the rest of the server. A good thing considering later events.

Fundy was part of the Immune group for a while and I like to imagine that he and Tommy had a falling out during the Pogtopia era but after the egg started to take over they started bonding again and acting like, well, family. Unfortunately when it came time for them to activate the portal, Fundy ended up getting separated from the group and getting caught. The eggpire didn’t actually know Fundy was fully immune or a kitsune so he just kinda pretended to get infected, using his illusions to make his fur look crimson. I personally like the idea that Fundy at some point managed to get back to the time machine and being a little code wizard manages to get the thing working and yeets himself in. He shows up a little late but after fixing his appearance manages to catch up with the rest of the group.

Fundy is underrated. Tommy being a good uncle is underrated. Sam would absolutely adopt the traumatized fox baby in Eret’s honor. What’s not to love?

The last concept I wanna bring up that I really like is hybrid Tommy. Tanuki would be good since it’s another reason for the Sam Nook bit. Maybe Sam specifically picked Sam Nook since Tom Nook was Tommy’s favorite character on the grounds he was the only representation Tommy had ever gotten and it made the kiddo happy. However, I also personally really like phoenix Tommy and it would make an interesting plot point. Tommy accidentally losing his third life at some point and realizing he’s an immortal creature of fire would have led to him taking a protector role for his new family. He can’t die, but he can burn anything around him, why not send him out to get supplies when the worst the eggpire could do would be capture him. Even then he just literally cannot hear the egg. Which could lead to both some interesting comedic moments and some really good angst if Sam agonizes over his desire to protect Tommy and let him be a child suddenly being at odds with the fact Tommy is literally the best person for the job so to speak. Not to mention Sapnap, who I headcanon as a Blaze hybrid, would be even more attached the moment he found a new fire proof friend to burn forests with him. Regardless of which hybrid type he is, I could see him hiding it from everyone except for Fundy when he was a child and only ever admitting it later to the other Immunes once they become a found family.

Personally I like the idea of Tommy being part tanuki hybrid and part phoenix hybrid, but is that too mary sue? Is it just a little bit too cheesy to have him be both? I will never not try to incorporate phoenix Tommy into my fics but also tanuki Tommy would be such a mood for this au.

Like image Tommy just builds a den that’s in reality a vault/panic room a la Techno and he hides it under Church Prime since that is The Safe Spot in Tommy’s mind.

~Snapdragon & Firefly

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chaosprince-apollo · 3 years

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I find it poetic that in some ways Iroh's greatest defeat is ultimately his greatest triumph.

Like I'm not talking directly obviously. We know he was considered to be a great general and after his defeat he was ridiculed and broken because of the death of his son, he had no real place in his own nation due to his failure and outside of his nation he is a war criminal which he is undeniably aware of and he regrets because he knows he wasn't the good guy and his son died in vain. He may act like a buffoon at times but we know and the people in the avatar kingdoms know he is extremely capable and an expert stratergiest (a testament to this fact is people are wary of him and he STILL manages the convince them he's harmless even when the KNOW he's a dangerous man.)

Now to get to my point about why it becomes a triumph. Simple. It's his big turning point or his first big turning point. This failure and subsequent ridicule breaks him away from the expectation of being a great general. Breaks him away from being a model of what a fire nation soldier should be. Iroh is shown to always be a caring father and I truly believe he knew he was doing wrong but that he also loved his nation and the firelord (his brother) and wanted to bring glory/honour not just for himself but for his son. Failing at Ba Sing Se was a blow sure but if he'd succeeded a) more people than had already died would have and being enslaved by the fire nation. b) he'd have never become the man who became one of the cities protectors c) he'd possibly not have been the one to be with Zuko during exile and d) certainly wouldn't have been someone helping protect the Avatar.

Now I say this is one of his turning points because it's also extremely obvious his relationship with Zuko is his other important factor as to WHY Iroh is such a nuanced and well fleshed out character. There's no way Iroh WOULDN'T love Zuko, but his failure and death of his son drives Iroh not only to adopt Zuko as his own but also to understand that Zuko's mission is wrong and is the road to ruin.

Iroh has first hand knowledge what being on the wrong side gets you. He's also one of the only people around Zuko that acknowledges he is literally a 13 year old child (when exiled, 16 during the show) the gaang also make acknowledgement of this but considering they themselves are like 12-15 approximately this acknowledgement doesn't have the same impact as GROWN ASS ADULTS thinking it's okay for the firelord (a powerful force) to fight agni kai against a 13 year old and then exile him for having....an opinion? Like honestly do these people actually know what the agni kai was about and just accept that or are they told Zuko did something terrible...which like even so pretty poor form here y'all (anyway I digress clearly from my point but I have FEELINGS and probably there are other people with in the fire nation that have enough empathy and critical thinking to know that what happened to Zuko was wrong but my point remains) Uncle Iroh is one of if not the only ADULT character that seems to actually be shown as thinking Zuko is a child with feelings instead of that he's dishonoured his family or that he's evil.

(Side note, I know he calls Azula crazy but I also don't think he thinks she's actually evil either but he has no way to help her and even if he tried there's no way in her current mind set she'd ever listen. She wants to be strong and powerful and whilst she's incredibly smart she can't tell she's being manipulated because she's only ever gotten by on manipulation herself and being rewarded for that so it's difficult for her to see her father doing it to her. It's really enforced into her that her brother is weak and worthless because he doesn't have it in him to be like her. In her mind Iroh isn't just a failure as a soldier, he's a failure because he stood by Zuko. Why would she listen to someone so weak and stupid.)

So in conclusion after several tangents. Iroh's failure to take Ba Sing Se ultimately leads to his role in it's liberation and the defeat of the fire nation under firelord Ozai. His defeat helps put him on the side of the people and the avatar and gives him chances to make amends for his true failures (besieging the city in the first place leading to deaths including his own son and the failure to bring a stop to his younger brother's ambition and cruelty)

Another tangent fuck sorry, it's being a little while since I've watched and I'm thinking of things as I type and I am totally aware I might be missing stuff or misremembering things or that maybe I just have a different interpretation of certain events or characterisations. ANYWAY Iroh as the older brother was the one in line for the throne and Ozai tried to convince Azulon that Iroh was weak using Ba Sing Se as the reason (Azulon's reaction to this is entirely unfair, and it's hard to feel empathy for his fate at the time of his death even if, like other people of fire nation royalty, he has potential not to be a FUCKING COLOSSAL WANKER.) [Also a pause here to say there's a solid 11 to 12 hours between my thoughts here cause my friend called for me to pick her up from somewhere cause she finished waaaaay earlier than we were expecting so coherency who knows her lol]

I think the point I was making essentially comes down to Iroh's defeat leads Ozai to confront/try to reason with Azulon that Ozai would make a better firelord than Iroh (whether Ozai was wrong or right is a matter of perception ultimately) Azulon didn't like this and demanded Ozai kill Zuko, which I actually don't remember clearly but I looked at the wiki to jog my memory and it says that's what happened. Which was my point earlier about being a wanker, and sure maybe it was actually going to be some kind of test a la abraham and isaac etc but of course he got murked and also like firelords tend to have this follow through of becoming batshit at some point. Or at least the last few the precede our boy Zuko certainly have questionable levels of empathy for anyone outside of their immediate family and even then ... anyway who remembers Zuko's scar? Anyone, anyone at all. Yeah....

So Iroh defeat = Ozai trying to usurp the throne = Azulon's piece of shit death to Zuko demand = Azulon gets murdered, sorry assassinated = Ozai usurping the throne anyway (although I'm not sure Iroh really fought him on that at all? Someone please clarify) = Ozai being firelord when Zuko spoke up = the whole agni kai business = Zuko having his face burnt by his own father and told he's weak and is given a frankly impossible task = Iroh watching on and feeling shame, disgust, guilt, and honestly I ultimately think he felt fear for Zuko and fear of having to acknowledge more than ever before that his younger brother and even the nation he loves are on the wrong path and that power isn't worth the amount of pain and suffering caused, like I'm sure previous to this he knew, he had to have known because we know how incredibly intelligent Iroh is, and we also know he is part of white lotus (which again someone might have to tell me a timeline on that because the white lotus thing seems to have being going on a while so was he white lotus during the ba sing se seige? The first one I mean? OH THOUGHTS BUT I'LL COME BACK = Iroh and Zuko's pirate adventures uh, I mean Zuko tries to capture the avatar and Iroh drinks tea = Iroh having to watch Zuko struggle at an impossible task to regain honour he never actually lost = Iroh being a scheming old man to achieve the goal of giving Zuko a loving father = Iroh going on the journey with Zuko to befriend the gaang = Iroh participating with other white lotus members to liberate ba sing se = leading to help the downfall of an oppressive regime = Zuko taking the throne in a state of empathy and acceptance.

Like let's be real. Even though Iroh probably would have made a formidable firelord he possibly wouldn't have become the Iroh we know even though that man would have been in there and whilst he'd have remained a role model to Zuko it may not have had the same impact as the journey they DO share.

Okay I know I had more thoughts regarding white lotus things but this is so long and it's midnight and exactly 0 people will read this

Anyway I love Iroh thanks for coming to my Ted Talk

(Any mistakes are because my brain just dumped a bunch of thoughts and proofread absolutely nothing)

#uncle iroh #prince iroh #atla #avatar the last airbender #zuko #fire nation #fire lord #fire lord azulon #fire lord ozai #agni kai #white lotus #ba sing se

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iron--spider · 4 years

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I woke up at 3am yesterday to watch The Devil All the Time and I’ve been thinking about it since. I’m gonna put my thoughts and feelings and a review of sorts behind the cut, because I am gonna talk about it freely, so there will be spoilers! So don’t click if you don’t wanna see. I’ll also be discussing the content of the film and I know that might bother people, so that stuff is in here, too! And it’ll be really long because you know I can’t shut up.

So, I loved it. I loved it loved it loved it. I read the book a long time ago when I first found out Tom was gonna be in it, and the only problem I had with the book was that the POVs would change in the middle of a paragraph lmao, but other than that I thought it was pretty perfect. I knew the movie was gonna be pretty brutal, because the book is brutal, so I was prepared.

-BUT I think the critics HIGHLY HIGHLY exaggerated how bad the content was. Like, seriously, they acted as if this was gonna be a Saw movie. I was preparing for blatant, horrific gore, but it didn’t live up to their dramatics at all. There’s blood and nasty situations, but every single episode of Game of Thrones is worse than this movie, as are most episodes of any crime drama on a paid network. I actually thought they were super, super tactful of all their horrific shit. The dog death was off screen and the shot of the body (described by the critics as literally traumatic) was so quick (enough to shut your eyes) and in the dark. I also argue that particular moment is extremely important for Arvin’s journey, because it’s the moment he truly turns on his father and turns on religion entirely, and he carries it with him his whole life (it’s what he flashes back to when he says “I know what my daddy did” because it’s the marker of all Willard’s mistakes) and it winds up being one of the last things he does before he leaves everything behind. Burying Jack’s bones. So, like, I despise dog death or any animal death in my entertainment, but it’s important here and handled well. And all the worst death scenes are either extremely fast (Helen’s and Gary Matthew’s) or shown in negative (all the photos). I think Bodecker’s headshot with Bobo is probably the worst and is also pretty quick. I don’t know if this means I’m a jaded bitch, but God the way they were all whining and crying, I thought it’d be a million times worse. It could have been, with the book’s descriptions, so it was actually pretty tame. Lenora’s death affected me the most and they cut away from that, too. I guess it’ll still bother some people, but there are many, many mainstream things that are far more violent and gory than this was.

-I thought it was a beautiful movie. I never mind films that are slightly slower but I love ones that use their time to lay things out and really show us what’s going on, build the ambiance and the relationships. I loved the narration (which I was worried about), and it really made me feel like we were visiting a moment in time that was important. Like something that was written and should be learned about. Rumors in a town you’re passing through. The ghosts of past trauma and transgressions looming over everyone that’s left.

-I liked the changes they made with Roy and Theodore because I thought that storyline kinda meandered in the book and I’m glad that Roy was actually gone the whole time and not just neglecting to come back to Lenora.

-The only real complaints I can make, I’ll get out of the way here: I wanted a little bit more time with Carl and Sandy. Carl was really creepy, but he could have been much creepier. In the book he was the one looking at the pictures constantly, Not Sandy, and that really showed that he was the one with the sickness, the one pushing them forward and orchestrating it all. I thought they did well with showing how Sandy deteriorated in her efforts with him through the years, but I would have liked to see a bit more of their personal lives together and her fear of him and her genuine feelings about what they’re doing, because the book goes into that a lot more. I also wasn’t a fan of Lee finding the picture early and knowing some about what they were doing, because I liked how it was a surprise to him in the book and yet he still did all he could to cover it up. And lastly, in the book there’s a scene with Arvin after he kills Sandy and Carl where he’s in a motel and he takes like 18 showers because he can’t get the grime of what he’s done off of him, and he looks at the picture and has a nightmare about killing Sandy, and I really would have loved if they’d kept it in. It would have been another ‘acting’ moment for Tom, and it would have been nice for us to see his direct trauma and reaction to everything that’s piling on top of him.

-BUT that’s it. I loved pretty much every single other thing and decision that they made. The cinematography was TOP NOTCH. You could tell they filmed on 35mm film, you could see the grain, and it really, really added to it. Antonio Campos is a very skilled director and I trusted him at the helm of this story. Everything looked so authentic, all the sets and the costumes. The soundtrack and score were AMAZING and enhanced the film. Technically it was just perfect in every regard to me.

-Acting! Acting! God this was like...a massive testament to the casting department and the talent of these people. Everyone was on their A game. Bill Skarsgård has been on my radar since Castle Rock (which I recommend to everybody, both seasons) and he was so natural and great in this role. Haley Bennet was absolutely adorable as Charlotte, I loved her cute face and her sweet relationship with little Arvin. Riley Keough was so great as Sandy with the limited amount of time she had, and Jason Clarke is one of my favorites but he was unrecognizable in this as creepy ass Carl. Harry Melling was a far cry from Dudley Dursley and he did a great job with his screen time, too. Same with Mia Wasikowska, who didn’t have much to do (same as poor Helen in the book) but she was able to garner our sympathy anyway. Seb Stan was slimy and gross but he pulled it off so well. Eliza Scanlen has been one of my favorites since Sharp Objects (another one that’s brutal as hell but I recommend it, she’s so scary) and she was so, so great here. Robert Pattinson was ALRIGHT, everybody talks him up over this but he felt a little hammy to me and a little too over the top, but there’s no denying his talent.

-Now, the reason we’re all here. Tom. My God. As soon as it was over I just didn’t know what the hell to do, I didn’t even know how to....go on, lmfao. We all know he’s talented, that’s why we’re here, that’s why we love him, but his performance in this is just BEYOND all that. Beyond comprehension. The man is only 24 years old and he’s out here outacting people who have been in the industry for longer than he’s been alive. He is SHOCKINGLY good. I knew he’d be perfect for Arvin as soon as I read the book, but he just completely embodied this role in a way that I couldn’t have imagined. He doesn’t show up in the movie until about 45 minutes in (which doesn’t hurt it because of the strength of the leadup, Bill’s performance and the performance of little Arvin’s actor) but God, as soon as he’s there the whole thing comes to life in a way that it hadn’t before. Tom is literally just a shining light, and he draws your eye in every single scene he’s in, and when he’s not there you’re wondering when he’s gonna come back. Arvin, to me, is a very complex character—he has been inherently changed by how his father twisted religion in his childhood, how deeply he betrayed him by his behavior, but he still has a kind heart and a protective streak and the need to be strong despite the pain nearly breaking him apart from moment to moment. Tom is just outrageously good at portraying all Arvin’s little nuances, how he clenches his jaw, how his voice breaks when he’s afraid or trying to convince someone of something or get his point across, how his hands tremble after he’s done something he wishes he didn’t have to do, how his whole body wilts when he realizes he’s emulating his father. And his eyes. Tom can do so, so much with his eyes that it’s unbelievable. He tells you so much with just a simple look, a glance, a wince, a long blink. I’m not exaggerating when I say he’s just an absolute revelation in this, he cements his place in Hollywood with a firm hand and a tender look, and I will not be forgetting what he did here anytime soon. There’s a reason that everyone called him out for being so stunning in this. He is magnificent. He has a gift.

-I wanna say, in particular, how much I love Arvin’s relationship with Lenora. Their lives were both marked by such tragedy and pain and Arvin just took up the torch of protecting her from the moment he said hello as a child. He wants so badly to be tough, and he IS, but there’s just miles and miles of love in this boy’s heart, and it manifests itself for his family—for his uncle, for his grandma, but for Lenora in particular. I loved how he just showed up when she was being harassed and just ran in there without thinking, and it’s purely devastating that he was out taking care of her bullies while a worse predator was cornering her. The scene where she was sick wasn’t in the book but it was a beautiful addition. Tom sometimes wears this very open, unguarded, honest expression, and this is the only scene in which he shows it, and it really expresses the love between them and how much she means to him. Arvin didn’t find Lenora’s body in the book, but it was the right change for them to make. Tom was devastating here, and that pain and that moment truly fuel every second of his journey through the rest of the film. “My Lenora”. The saddest siblings. Both Eliza and Tom did so beautifully with this relationship and I hope they work together again.

-Favorite acting moments for Tom: when he’s in the car in the rain after beating up the bullies, when he’s in the church crowd and realizes Preston is insulting his Grandma (the way his face changes oh my GOD), when he finds Lenora, when the cop comes to tell him Lenora was pregnant (this is just....so damn good), when he was telling his uncle to look after his Grandma, THE ENTIRE CHURCH CONFRONTATION (the way he trembles when he’s trying to get his attention, how he speaks the whole time, how he slowly gathers his strength), when he thinks Sandy has shot him, the moment where he’s over Lee’s body and just....pleading with his eyes for him to listen and realize what he’s done. And the last scene, in the car, all the emphasis on his face....once again, he can do so, so much with a look, with his eyes. Someone called out the beautiful last shot in the film, and of course, it’s Arvin’s sleeping face. And it was so beautiful (and devastating, to think of him enlisting. Tom draws so much sympathy that you just want Arvin to have a normal life so badly. He deserves it, he does, but will he get it?)

-Last thing I’ll say, I really loved how, despite turning his back on religion, that God seems to be protecting Arvin the whole time. He’s terribly afraid confronting the preacher and that could have easily gone badly, especially when he tosses the book, but Arvin was somehow able to get a shot off and get the upper hand. And with Carl and Sandy, he senses something is off immediately once they pull off the road, and he would have absolutely been killed had Carl not switched out Sandy’s bullets for blanks. And in the confrontation with Lee, he once again shoots at the same time as him, shoots without looking, and manages to come out unscathed and on top. A few spoiler reviews pointed out that the last person that picks Arvin up is supposed to be a Jesus-like figure, almost like he’s finally been saved. It hurts that everyone around him that he loved is almost forsaken by God, but he himself is protected. It’s such a complicated commentary on religion throughout the entire piece, but it’s so interesting and engrossing.

So I’d recommend this movie to anyone that loves movies, loves Tom, can deal with a gritty story that takes its time laying out all the chess pieces. It is definitely heavy subject matter but it doesn’t go overboard with the horror as it easily could have. Yes, there are triggers to look for, but the critics hugely over exaggerated how awful it was. I can probably go get time stamps for certain things if people wanna ask me after reading this, but if you can get through a Tarantino film or any HBO drama, you can do this. And Tom’s performance is one for the ages and not one that deserves to be passed over or downplayed. It is beautiful and heart-wrenching—a magnificent turn that displays his monumental ability to reach out and guide you into any world he decides to make his own.

I loved The Devil All the Time.

#tom holland #arvin russell #the devil all the time #text post #LONG #I’M SORRY

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the-library-alcove · 3 years

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How was it anti semetic? So i can relay the info to her so she can improve herself. Only if you have the time ofc. I know shes anti-christianity and organized religion so i know her comment wasn't in support of genocide, but if she was anti semetic in anyway, she'd want to know so she can be a better ally to the jewish community. I'm sorry if this is too much! She's just freaking out now 😅

Okay, what they explicitly said was this:

God is explicit in the bible, thou shalt not kill is about killing other christians. He sanctions and encourages and appreciates the killing of non christians. That's the old testament in a nutshell.

So, against my better judgment, I will unpack this.

First, characterizing the "God of the Old Testament"--i.e. the G-d of the Jewish people"--as sanctioning, encouraging and appreciating the killing of non-Christians is antisemitic, because, no, "thou shall not kill" doesn't come with exceptions! And Jews have spent a lot of time and a lot of discussion on the xenophobic aspects of Judaism's texts (all of that discussion was thrown out by the early Christian Church, btw). So first off, their characterization of the "Old Testament" of "Jews as bloodthirsty" is not only wrong, it's used as the basis for a lot of antisemitism up until the modern day.

Second, it's factually incorrect and includes so much Christian egocentrism that I literally had to pause on figuring out how to unwrap it, so I'll be blunt:

How can the "Old Testament", which predates Christianity, have explicit instructions regarding how to treat "non-Christians"?

Answer: If you assume that Judaism is somehow "Christianity Lite" or "Ethnic Christianity", both of which are WRONG and antisemitic.

Third, saying that the Jewish G-d appreciates, encourages, and sanctions the deaths of non-Jews/non-Christians in the "Old Testament" is rich when the Jews have the "Noahide laws" which state that "righteous non-Jews who obey these seven basic precepts of behavior" (one of which is "don't kill"!) have a place in "The World To Come" but otherwise does not give a shit about what they believe because the Torah is just laws for Jews and non-Jews can go and do their own thing so long as they don't threaten Jews. Meanwhile Christianity explicitly has--as I explained in the post that was responded to--an instruction to commit worldwide cultural genocide and has a statement of belief that those who don't become followers of Jesus will suffer eternal torment.

So, in summary, your associate has some pretty nasty antisemitic Christian biases sitting in their brain, and you can see why I wasn't interested in engaging with them--because on top of all of this, when I run into Christians or ex-Christians with this belief set, they're just about never willing to listen, ranging across the political spectrum--I've gotten hate from far-right Catholics and from leftist Quakers. So its at the point where when I see someone characterize the "Old Testament" that way, I just block. Safer that way.

Please don't make me regret engaging in this good faith explanation.

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 3 years

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chin fucking up, amigo.

Titans 3.02

... eh?

SPOILERS ahead.

1. you know that music video for billie jean where michael jackson would dance along the pavement and the tiles would light up under his feet in different colours? yeah? me too.

titans hasn’t met a table top or a support arch that it doesn’t want to light up in a headache-inducing blue like the world’s most boring nightlight. i mean, i’m not an expert on lighting or cinematography or just... colour by any means, and the quality of the video i’m watching is poor given that i can’t access hbo max, but all the orange and teal and neon is making it very difficult to really differentiate between say, the batcave and the gotham police department and hell, the titans tower. i feel like there’s oftentimes a gap between idea and execution with titans, with gotham being this almost otherwordly hellscape with an aesthetic pulled from a gothic horror novel, but the colours and design just... leave it flat and dark and dull.

1.5. like what really frustrates me is that titans has a delightful mix of tones--the fights often remind me of schumacher-era batman camp, with the contrived quips and the start-stop rhythm and krypto just sallying in and ending the fight with a fucking SuperBark (tm) but in the same episode you have red hood just casually pulling out severed heads out of a duffle bag and desperate people blackmailed into killing themselves out of drug overdoses. I MEAN. it’s wonderful! but it looks all the same. it sounds Absolutely Bonkers on paper but on screen both Quip and Murder happen in the same washed-out blue and i wanted to be excited about the batcave, dammit!

2. things re: red hood have happened at such a breakneck speed that it feels like there’s so much that’s happened off-screen that we’re not privy to. a real proper mystery!

things that are intriguing about the red hood arc so far:

a) what was that chemical he huffed just before going to fight the joker? is it a regular old performance/adrenaline booster or is it something more lazarus-juice adjacent? if it’s the latter, i can’t imagine he got that much information from a lone chemistry textbook. and where is he getting the resources to set up his little chemistry lab? is somebody else orchestrating things behind the scenes?

b) the red hood persona, costume and mask, plus the elaborate plan he’s putting in place to both string along gotham’s rogues and enact his revenge against the titans seems too... fully-formed and elaborate to have been concocted in just a few days. how long do you think jason’s been planning this? just... stewing in resentment and building rage, dismissed and passed around and underestimated and realising that the power he thought he would get by being robin is no power, no protection at all, but something that’s left him even more vulnerable than before?

c) do we think that the scarecrow is at least partly behind this transformation? because yes, it was batman that set up this whole hannibal lecter-esque situation with him, and he would be irresponsible enough to have jason-as-robin go talk to him regularly regarding “~profiling~” criminals. it’s not too far of a leap to assume that scarecrow could’ve been manipulating jason at a very vulnerable time, and that he could’ve passed along some of his chemistry know-how, too.

d) ... or fuck, i wouldn’t put it past titans to introduce ra’s al ghul in a fucking ten second aside

e) anyway, the thing that won’t leave me alone is jason seeking out the joker not necessarily to fight him, but to orchestrate his own death. the whole thing has to have been part of a bigger plan. he broke batman with it, after all. and he’s starting to break the titans, too.

f) i love it! i mean, it does re-tread some of the storybeats we had with deathstroke last season (turning the titans against each other as revenge, etc) but it’s... tighter, this time, and at least for now seems better-executed. and as a red hood story it’s different enough to be really interesting, and i appreciate the ways in which its reframed the revenge story to focus on the titans rather than just the batman. like fuck everything up, i say! turn it on its head! slash the innards out of that sacred cow and strew it like garlands in the path of the Story You Want To Tell!

(and yes i am fully aware that by the time i post this review, there will be a whole lot more information out but if i come across like a fool then goddammit i will be a fool!)

2. i love how every season of titans starts off with, ‘oh dick, you thought you were settling into a role and a life and a pattern of relationships? well fuck you, here’s a terrible and traumatic thing, tons more responsibility, and circumstances that will lead you to uproot your entire life and move somewhere else.’ and dick’s just like, ‘well, ok. fuck you, but all right’.

can you imagine? the man was just settling into leading a team in sf and smiling for the first time in years, and now he has to deal with jason’s death, bruce experiencing a full fledged breakdown, coming back to a city that represents more bad memories than good, red hood, and a frightening new case that seems to be targeting him and his team. it’s a testament to dick’s growth that he’s not reacting to this stress like he did last year, shutting everybody out, making irrational decisions and experiencing sharp, short bursts of anger. (not to mention a full fledged psychotic episode.)

2.5. but i’ve also talked about dick performing a fair amount of unwarranted emotional labour for his team(s) in that he just lets them take out their frustrations on him and... does nothing. be it his team exploding at him for jericho (both in flashback and present-day) or donna and hank needling him for handling deathstroke poorly or barbara berating him for not handling the bank situation as well as she thought batman would though just the previous episode she had talked about how fucked up it was that bruce just expected dick to step up and replace him in gotham without any real notice. i mean it’s all perfectly understandable and sympathetic from their end--and i’m not trying to bash them here!--but hank, my man, the same chin you’re asking your amigo to keep up is the one that you punched last year and never apologised for. just sayin’.

2.75. @superohclair did a wonderful breakdown of what the ‘fear’ contract could imply here and there’s not too much i could add to that. it’s just really interesting that fear ended up being such a defining feature of their lives, albeit it’s the fear of seeming less than invincible in the face of bigger, more tangible fears. am i making sense? dick feared loss, and abandonment, and the more existential concept of turning into something that he didn’t want to. bruce so feared being alone that he’s scouting kids to replace robin within days of jason dying.

it also goes some way in explaining the tense sort of... restraint that bruce and dick show in the wake of loss and tragedy, like anything less than complete control of your emotions can lead to tragedy. it’s conditioning that dick couldn’t shake off when he was at his lowest in detroit, hating his legacy but unable to let it go either.

2.775. but i definitely appreciate the softness that dick displays with his team now, checking on them after a mission-gone-bad, welcoming back old members with no caveats or resentments (and kory’s delight in seeing hank back! hank and dick hanging out together and hank trying to prop dick up!), and appreciating their teamwork in solving cases. that’s always been the essence of dick as a person, and the beating heart of this show: flawed and traumatised people coming together to a place that will always be open to them, where they can be their worst and be supported still, allowed to make mistakes and grow from them. that’s family.

2.8. coming back to bruce for just a sec, it’s interesting how that gotham rogue was so certain when he said that ‘batman doesn’t kill’ but it’s not a rule that either jason or dick put much store by when they were robins. the ‘no-killing’ rule clearly didn’t mitigate dick’s fears about turning into batman and jason’s never been seeing giving two shits about it. it seems to me of a piece with bruce’s distant, second-hand sort of parenting that we see in dick’s flashbacks from s1 where the fear was never about personally disappointing batman, but taking lessons from him on finding a place in gotham’s hellish ecosystem and surviving.

3. kory having waking flashbacks! i don’t buy the bullshit parasomnia episode explanation from fake!HPG (because c’mon, justin has to be some sort of tamaranean ruse) because for one, you have to be actually asleep for that diagnosis.

(and here i was, hoping against hope that HPG would actually end up as the team’s therapist)

curiouser and curiouser! i wonder if these flashbacks are from the time between kory landing on earth and the beginning of season 1, when she was completely amnesiac? it’d be cool if the show was considering repercussions from that time, and if kory hasn’t gained all her memories back.

4. i just love the vibes between gar and conner and kory. gar Having Things To Do is only one part of my wishlist for him, however: other parts include having an actual story arc, and actually bonding with members who are not conner and kory. (dick! dick! hank! dick!)

anyway. time to move on to watching ep3 and seeing this family bond and nothing terrible and tragic happening at all, nope, nosiree.

#titans #titans spoilers #meta #dick grayson #jason todd #red hood #koriand'r #garfield logan #bruce wayne #his name is justin.#a byronic cupcake #a tragic jalebi #badass strawberry truffle #manic pixie pop tart

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dannypuro · 4 years

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Okay but what was the heinous spelling error Enj made 200ish years ago and was it really as bad as he said it was ?

Also I am here to further scream over your fics and flail about how Good they are and how On Point your characterization is and how I am still thinking about them all. All at once. No exceptions

THANk YOU VERY MUCH AND GOOD NIGHT :^D (the nose is there for Grantaire reasons) - boom-goes-the-canon because Tumblr disallows sending asks from side blogs like governments ban personal lives

( Something Telling verse, post-chapter 9 (aka time-zapped Enjolras, modern-era). also THANK YOU!! HELLO!!! I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!! GOOD JOB ON YOUR MOST RECENT FIC I ADORE. to everyone else... send me prompts/questions/thoughts. i shall respond to them. thank u)

Feuilly and Bahorel come over for brunch on a Sunday in December. Grantaire makes a quiche, sets the table all nice, and everything, and then realizes, ten minutes before they’re supposed to arrive, that they ran out of coffee the day before.

“Fuck,” he hisses, as he stares down into the empty bag and wishes that for once in his fucking life he could have just a tiny bit of forethought. “Fuck.”

Enjolras hums from where he sits on the kitchen counter, where he’s been steadily working his way through a truly impressive number of clementines. “Something is wrong?” He asks; he passes Grantaire a piece of clementine, as he says it. (God, Grantaire fucking loves him.)

“Yeah,” he says, but his heart’s not really in it, anymore--it’s hard to keep up any semblance of anger past annoyance when Enjolras is doing things like- like feeding him orange segments, and shit like that. “We- I forgot we’re out of coffee. And Baz and Feuilly’ll be here in, like, a second, and the quiche is still in the oven and I don’t-” he doesn’t have time, and he has never been a shitty brunch host but brunch without coffee is a shitty brunch, and-

“Grantaire,” Enjolras says firmly. He hops down off of the counter, takes a second to frame Grantaire’s face in his hands. “Please do not panic over brunch. I shall go and buy some more coffee.”

Like it’s simple. Fuck, it is simple, and Grantaire loves him, and he’s not going to be a shitty brunch host, and-

“God, I love you,” he says.

Enjolras smiles, leans up for a quick kiss. “I love you, as well. Now, mind your cookery--I shall return before the hour, and all will be well.”

He leaves, and Grantaire repeats it to himself--All will be well--and as soon as he’s done that, there’s a crack of thunder, and it starts pouring, icy and relentless, outside the kitchen window. And. Well. So much for that mantra, then. But oh, God, it’s raining, and Enjolras never takes an umbrella with him, and if he had any sense he’d just turn back and come back to the apartment, damn the coffee, but Grantaire knows him, and he knows that he doesn’t have any sense, most of the time, so he stares out the window and wills the rain to stop before his boyfriend freezes to death.

No such luck. By the time Enjolras gets back, coffee in hand, he’s soaked to the bones, and he’s got an equally-as-sopping Feuilly and Bahorel in tow.

“R!” Bahorel crows. “Found your boy!”

Grantaire sets the quiche down on the table and looks them over. Feuilly’s teeth are chattering. They’re all three of them dripping on his carpet. Enjolras is wearing Grantaire’s hoodie instead of a coat and beaming.

Right. A change of plans, then.

They eat brunch on the couch, once Grantaire’s thrown all of their clothes into the dryer and they’ve changed into some of Grantaire’s spare sweatpants. Of course, Baz and Feuilly borrow his clothes because they need to; Enjolras borrows his clothes because he’s fundamentally ridiculous. (Grantaire loves him so fucking much.)

“You know,” Grantaire says, over couch quiche, despite the fact that he already knows that Enjolras does, in fact, know, “You could have just changed into your own clothes. If you wanted to. Since you live here, and all.”

Enjolras gives him a very, very pointed look. And you know what? Fair.

They eat brunch.

“I did have a question about your essays, actually,” Feuilly says, once they’ve finished the quiche and moved on to coffee and coffee alone. He’s tucked under the same quilt as Enjolras--one of Jehan’s, bright and warm.

Enjolras nods, snuggles back against Grantaire, where Grantaire’s got an arm wrapped around his chest, where he leans up against him in an awkward half-pivot. “Of course,” he says. “Anything you require, easily.”

“Awesome, great,” Feuilly says, with a smile. “What’s lacrity?”

Grantaire can feel Enjolras tense against him, freeze. Which is… not what he was expecting. “You jest,” he manages, eventually, and Grantaire holds him a little tighter, never mind that he doesn’t know why.

Feuilly frowns. “Um. No? I mean, I looked it up, but I couldn’t find anything.”

Enjolras is breathing a little faster, now; he takes Feuilly’s hands in his own. “Feuilly, my dear fellow,” he says, and his voice shakes. “Tell me you jest.”

Grantaire doesn’t know what the fuck is going on.

Feuilly looks just about as confused as Grantaire feels. He reaches into his bag, pulls out a book--Enjolras’s book, a little thing, six essays bound in public-domain paper. He opens it to his bookmark, hands it over. “Lacrity,” he says, and then he reads, “It is only through lacrity and fortitude that the people of this nation might ever be free; it stands testament to the chance of man, then, that itis lacrity and fortitude both which comprise the foundation of the citizen’s heart. It’s in the fifth one?”

Enjolras stares down at the book. He clears his throat. “Alacrity,” he says, very, very softly.

“Uh, yeah,” Bahorel says, from where he sits with an arm thrown over Feuilly’s shoulders. “A lacrity. But, like, what is it?”

A pained noise rises at the back of his throat that Grantaire can feel, up against his chest. “You misunderstand me,” he manages. “I- This is a nightmare.” His heart is beating just a little too fast for Grantaire’s comfort.

“Enj?” he tries. “Are you-”

“Excuse me,” he blurts out. “I- Excuse me.” He’s on his feet in an instant, making off for the bedroom before anyone can stop him. Grantaire’s side feels pretty fucking cold, without him.

Feuilly looks stricken. “I don’t- Did I say something?” Grantaire’s feeling pretty stricken, himself--he doesn’t know what happened, doesn’t know what could have gone on in Enjolras’s head that would make him talk to Feuilly with anything other than kindness edging on reverence.

“I’m gonna go see if he’s-” he gestures towards the bedroom. Bahorel and Feuilly nod. He goes.

Enjolras is sitting on the edge of the bed, head in hands.

Oh, Jesus.

“Enj?” he hazards.

He doesn’t look up. “This is mortifying,” he mumbles into his palms. “I have been personally wronged by every single editor who has ever lain their hands upon my essays.”

Grantaire still doesn’t- doesn’t really know where they’re going, here. He sits down beside him on the bed. “Did-”

“Lacrity,” Enjolras grits out, half frantic, and finally, he turns to face Grantaire. “Lacrity is not a word. It is- It- Alacrity. Which I did not know when I wrote those essays, because I was twenty-two years of age and a fool. And this is something which, despite the fact that he was paid to do so, my editor did not deem necessary to correct!”

Ah.

Um.

Grantaire doesn’t really know that he’s qualified to offer comfort on 200-year-old publishing woes, but fuck, he’ll try. “I’m sure-”

Enjolras holds a hand up to stop him. He stops. “This was bad enough. I was already aware of this injustice. What I cannot abide is the fact that evidently, in the two hundred years since its unfortunate publication, nobody has taken pity enough to correct it! And now Feuilly thinks that I am a fool! Grantaire, this is humiliating!”

He’s looking pretty genuinely distressed; Grantaire can’t bear to do anything but to pull him into a hug, firm and solid. Enjolras, for all his bristle, folds in against his chest. “Feuilly doesn’t think you’re a fool,” he says, into his curls. “Feuilly thinks you’re awesome.”

He lets out a pained groan. “I shall never recover.”

Yeah, okay. Grantaire holds him a little tighter. Only- “Hey, why don’t you care about me or Baz thinking you’re a fool?”

Enjolras snorts a laugh against his chest. “I have personally witnessed Bahorel misspell his own profession. I hold little concern that his regard for me will be impacted.”

Honestly? Fair. “But-”

“Grantaire,” Enjolras says, and he pulls back just enough to press his forehead to Grantaire’s. (Grantaire’s heart thrums.) “We live together. We are courting. If you do not already know that I am a fool, I worry that you never will.”

“You’re not-” he says, on impulse, and then he thinks about, like, actually living with Enjolras, fucking wonderful thing, and he grins. “Well. Maybe a little,” he admits.

Enjolras smiles back, still half-shaky. “Perhaps a little,” he says.

“Feuilly doesn’t think you’re a fool,” Grantaire reminds him, firm. “Feuilly likes you no matter how many typos you made when you were twenty-two.”

He sighs. “Oh, I suppose so.”

Grantaire kisses him, because he can. Enjolras takes a minute to kiss him back, then stands with a sigh.

“I suppose that I had better explain my pitiable situation to Feuilly, then,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

“Guess so,” Grantaire says, and he lets Enjolras tug him to his feet and press a kiss to his cheek, before they go.

#enjoltaire #enjoltaire fanfiction #exr #exr fanfiction #les miserables #something telling #les miserables fanfiction #les mis #writing #Anonymous

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omegangrins · 3 years

Text

A Rant on the End of Tremors 7: Shrieker Island

As the main man said,

Throwing caution to the wind because this blew up elsewhere.

If you can do it with Justice League, fuck it, let's do it for every shitty movie we've got.

While we're at it, can we change the ending of the 7th Tremors movie so *MAJOR FUCKING SPOILERS* Burt Gummer doesn't die or at least bring Jamie Kennedy back, or Marvel style recast Jon Heder, so he dies saving his son instead of a random-ass person who could have easily saved themselves. Or cut the forced montage of Burt clips at the end so his death is at least ambiguous. Seriously beyond pissed about that one. THAT is no way for him to go.

I would also like to point out that the next Tremors *HAS* to be titled Tremors 8: Ouroboros and bring everyone back for Burt's funeral . Otherwise, what's the fucking point?

I have feelings about it, people. *FEELINGS!!!*

One of my favourite childhood memories is picking out Tremors 2 from the local gas station's movie rentals and forcing my parents to watch it. I was probably 5-6 at the time.

Let's say that it's been a lifelong love affair ever since. It took me another 10 years before I even watched the 1st. Probably why I hold good sequels in such high regard.

I didn't even know about the 1st until it played as a trailer in front of 2 and never thought to watch until years later. That's a testament to its filmmaking if I ever knew one.

So seriously, that's how they chose to kill off one of the most well known and prolific characters in a movie/TV series known around the globe? With an unnecessaryily needed death and a montage of clips from all the other movies that are obviously better than this one.

And I'm saying that as someone who defends Chibnall/13th Doctor...

...and I'm fucking fuming because THIS is how you *actually* destroy something people love and hold dear to their hearts. It's like the ending of Game of Thrones. His shitty ass death has made it a loooooot harder to rewatch. And they are one of my favourite series!!! Not flawless but fun. But I will defend every other movie and all the episodes except this. Honestly I'll still defend 7/8ths of this one as well.

Like I said, it's easily fixed too. Fucking vice versa swap out Jon Heder for Jamie Kennedy, who the movies have been building up for the last two, and have Burt save his son in front of his old flame. Boom, you won't even need the montage of clips cause you can just have Travis and his mom reminisce about Burt instead. Show not tell. I don't even care he died by Graboid (although in all honesty, I've allways wanted El Blanco to take him down or Burt kills himself from the PTSD. It would have AT LEAST MADE SENSE. Hell, the best would be a heart attack to callback Val's "Yeah, Burt, the way you worry, you're gonna have a heart attack before you get a chance to survive World War Three.". But none of us ever get the best death.). And it's not even about Burt sacrificing himself to save a nobody. Cause that could work too. BUT YOU NEED TO BUILD THAT SHIT UP. Not just fucking drop it like it's hot.

Like I said too, the first 7/8ths ain't bad but it's an entirely different story than a swansong for a hero.

It's all about some billionaire scientist/cowboy hunter dude who likes to get his jollies off hunting the biggest and the baddest who ends up inviting people to this island so they can hunt down Super-Graboids he designed for shits and giggles. But then some Shrieker-fy....

And the pretentious douches come and die one by beautiful one while Burt tries to save them anyway and it's all spectacularly dumb fun until it comes crashing down in the final 10 minutes. Fuck, they should just cut the last 10 minutes. Then it's a perfect little Tremors ditty.

#RELEASETHE7THTREMORSWITH10MINUTESFROMTHEENDCUT

This isn't even about Jon Heder either. He's just doing his job. Hell, do what /u/VoiceofRonHoward pointed out.

"It is clear that Jon's character was just pasted in over Jamie's, the artifacts of the father-son relationship are all over it. They should have gone full Marvel and just replaced Jamie with Jon and acted like nothing happened."

CAUSE FUCK YES!! The only time a story sucks is when they don't commit. Commitment makes all the difference. Now, I'm pissed double-pissed they didn't do that instead since Heder and Kennedy are similar in terms of white-boy-ness.

Even Michael Gross agrees:

"Yes, yes. Now I can't presume to speak for Jamie [Kennedy]. My understanding was they asked him and he said no. And so that's why they went with somebody else. So I had nothing to do with that decision. I just heard the stories. I missed him for that reason. You begin a relationship with the character, and you want to continue it....

...As you build a relationship with this son, we had two, it would've been nice to have three, but that was the hand I was dealt."

One of my favourite bits of Tremors lore comes from the 5th too so it's not like I hate sequel changes out of hand:

"This is a warrior dance. Our ancestors hunting the lnkanyamba and the Impundulu.

"What's that?

"Impundulu. It's what you call the Ass Blaster.

"Ass Blaster.

"Yes.

"Hey, you know, you make Ass Blaster sound good.

Primitive cultures fighting Graboids, Shriekers and Assblasters. I just love that thought.

Hilariously, my meta opening to the 8th movie would be a flashback to 10,000 years ago and a Neanderthal-like Burt Gummer teaching others how to drive Graboids off cliffs like they did with mammoths.

Thank you for giving me the space to rant. Cause fuuuuuuhhhhhhhhuuccck!!!

Here's Michael Gross' own words from his AMA that prove the people making Shrieker Island didn't know their shit.

"The Tremors series is one very close to my heart and I want you to know how appreciated your continued effort is for your core fan base.

My only question would be were there ever any studio decisions made for Burt that you refused to comply with? Or was everybody pretty much always on the same page on what to do with the character?

Thanks again for your dedication.

- Josh"

"Thanks for the kind words, Josh. As regards the first four films, with Wilson and Maddock as the writers, we were very much on the same page. 5,6, and 7 were a bit different, because there was a 13-year hiatus between 4 and 5, and we had to refresh our memories while "reinventing" the franchise for a new audience. I will give you one example: in an early draft of Shrieker Island, a new writer wrote a draft where Burt threatened to shoot one of the bad dudes, and I had to tell him—this is true—"Burt never intentionally points his gun at another human being."

And his own thoughts on Burt's "death" and how to bring it all back together again.

Universal and the director [came] to me with this idea, and they said, 'This could be emotionally very powerful, if we have to say goodbye to this man after 30 years. And I hemmed and hawed, and I thought about it a little bit. And I said, 'You're absolutely right about the emotional gut punch this can be.' And I said, 'You're going to hurt a lot of people's feelings.' And I said, 'But I thought this franchise was over after four. So I could certainly live with it being over after seven.'

"What we negotiated -- well, it wasn't really a negotiation, we all agreed on this -- is that we kind of left the door open. >!Because although Burt is gone, we never see a corpse. We never see his remains. Everybody assumes he's gone. Is he buried somewhere? Is he unconscious somewhere? We never see Burt dead. We see Burt gone. We see Burt not returning. What does that mean? Has he been knocked out? Does he have amnesia somewhere? Does he wander off? Is he in a kind of coma? So yes, the way it ends is pretty profound."

"As regards to the end of Tremors 7, let me just say that while people ASSUME Burt is gone, we never see his remains, do we? Just sayin.'

"The only reason he has become the main character is that everyone else in the original cast moved on to other things. I NEVER thought of him as the central figure, but it just worked out that Michael Gross, like Burt Gummer, was a "survivor." :0) "

"No one would like to see it more than I!!! One of my greatest regrets is that so many other cast members fell away over time. Reba was on to other things, Kevin said no to a second, Fred said no to a third. I would LOVE one last go with all of them, but it is not up to me. :0( "

"There are no guarantees, but for those who wonder aloud if this is the final film, I will say what I have said before: SALES drive sequels, Show biz is 5% show and 95% business, so if this latest addition to the Tremors franchise, sells well, [Universal] will follow the money, and Universal Pictures Home Entertainment may will be back for more."

/u/ActorMichaelGross, the bell has been rung and the song sung. Get the producers on this ASAP!!

I was also the first person to discover the symbolic foreshadowing of Stumpy's end with Earl's sleeping bag in the original movie.

Let's just say, I really *really* love these movies. So if anyone knows anyone, hook me up to the producers of this series and I'll Justin Lin in the Fast and Furious out of this shit.

Since I don't think it's good to critique without proposing either, I say we can make up for this fuck up with the next movie. We'll call it Tremors 8: Ouroboros. After the snake which eats its own tail.

We find out Burt faked his death to get the Proudfoot Corporation to let down their guard and when everyone from the previous series comes back for Burt's fake funeral they give him ever loving shit for being such a paranoid whack-job that he would fake his death to fool a government agency. Why would he do this? He found an old photo of Hiram Gummer with a Graboid warning on the back and asks himself why this valley, why these things, why allways me? And we find out, it's not Burt. It's that lifestyles of extremes will end up in places of extremes. Burt and the Graboids are survivors of different species. Sure the Proudfoot Corporation IS using Mixmaster to combine Graboids, Shriekers, and Ass-Blasters into one super creature for the military but it pales in comparison to Burt looking at his life and wondering in shame how many ancient giants like himself he has killed. And with that, he actually dies, and we keep the ball rolling with the rest of the characters trying to stop what they allways thought was just another one of Burt's crazy conspiracies.

That's why it's Ouroboros. Everything comes back around. We could end/start the movie with Grady, Earl, and Jodi opening a Monster World in Perfection Valley a la Desert Jack's Graboid Adventure. I don't know. I'm fucking trying harder than the people they paid to do this already.

It ain't perfect but I'm building on sand here so changes are gonna get made.

Like if the makers of Tremors notice this,

Then DM me because fucking A you guys need some help.

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rabble-dabble · 3 years

Text

The Cancer King's Court ~ The Holy Prince

Eridan Ampora/The Holy Prince

This Eridan is, in fact, the Eridan from our timeline.

After his death at the hands of Kanaya, Eridan mopes around the dreambubbles in a self loathing haze. Without Feferi or Karkat around to try and keep him afloat, Eridan is left to wallow in his own pathetic self pity. He takes every excuse to dive deeper into his own self loathing. Alternate versions of himself who have it better than him just go to show what a fuck-up he is, and those that don’t just reinforce his image of how miserable his life is.

He eventually runs into the Cancer King, who is absolutely pissed to see him. Karkat verbally tears Eridan to shreads, lambasting him for continually burying himself in his own self pity.

“you’re right, kar. god, you’re alwways right. i really am just a-”

“DON’T YOU FINISH THAT FUCKING SENTENCE, ERIDAN AMPORA. WHATEVER IT IS THAT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY, YES, THAT IS IN FACT, WHAT YOU ARE. AN ASSHOLE, A DOUCH CANOE, A RAGING BIGOTED VOLCANO OF BULLSHIT. THE PROBLEM IS THAT YOU CAN’T BE ASSED TO BE ANYTHING MORE THAN THAT.”

“I’M WILLING TO BET THAT YOU’VE SPENT YOUR ENTIRE AFTERLIFE WALLOWING IN SELF LOATHING, HAVEN’T YOU? IT’S ALL YOU DID WHEN YOU WERE ALIVE. IF YOU CAN’T MAKE YOURSELF SOMEONE ELSE’S PROBLEM, THEN YOU’LL JUST SINK INTO A HOLE UNTIL YOU CAN THROW YOUR PROBLEMS ON SOMEONE ELSE’S SHOULDERS. YOU’RE A PARASITE. YOU FED OFF FEFERI, YOU FED OFF ME, AND NOW YOU’RE STARVING BECAUSE NO ONE’S LEFT TO DEAL WITH YOUR BULLSHIT.”

“YOU COULD’VE MADE AN EFFORT, EVEN A SINGLE ATTEMPT, TO FIX YOURSELF UP AT ANY TIME YOU WANTED. I’VE MET PEOPLE WHO WERE ASSBAGS, WHO WERE JUST AS BIG OF SHIT STAINS AS YOU WERE AT ONE POINT, WHO HAVE BECOME BETTER PEOPLE. I’VE MET A VERSION OF VRISKA WHO TRIED TO CLEAN UP HER LIFE. FUCKING. VRISKA.”

“YOU’RE RIGHT, ERIDAN. YOU’RE A TERRIBLE PERSON. YOU’VE NEVER EVEN TRIED TO BE ANYTHING ELSE.”

Eridan stares silently. Karkat sighs and leaves.

Eridan wanders the Dreambubbles some more, Karkat’s lines repeating in his head. At first, it’s just another ember in his smouldering fire of self-loathing, but he can’t keep himself from chewing on it a bit more. Eridan’s conflicted thoughts come to a head when he meets himself from the New Timeline.

The Eridan from this timeline sold out his friends to The Condescension. He’s the reason she rose to power. And everything she’s done is on his shoulders.

When Eridan confronts his alternate self, he starts spewing all the same excuses that Eridan himself has used before. He didn’t have a choice, it’s his duty as royal blood, what did you expect him to do? When pressed, his alternate self admits to regretting what he did.

So, Eridan asks why he hasn’t tried to fix it yet? He’s a Grand Admiral in the Condescension’s navy. He has plenty of resources. He could easily fund the rebellion, work as a spy, plot some assassinations. He could try to fix this. Alternate Eridan refuses.

He’s always been the bad guy. Why pretend he could be anything else?

Eridan leaves in disgust. Karkat’s words finally sink in.

Even when given every reason in the world to change, Eridan couldn’t be bothered. Well, that ends today.

So, Eridan sets out to make amends. He visits the dreams of players still doing their sessions and gives them advice. He gives them hope, listens to their problems, helps them reach God-Tier and guides them away from the mistakes he made. He isn’t very good at it. Not initially. He finds himself listening to them as much as they listen to him. But, still, he grows. And, in doing so, he saves several sessions from the brink of disaster.

Eventually, Eridan meets Feferi. His Feferi.

The two awkwardly catch up, dancing around the obvious. They compare notes on the Dreambubbles and Eridan explains what he’s been up too.

Eridan bursts the bubble first. He asks her if she can forgive him.

…Feferi looks forlorn, devistated even, as she confesses that she doesn’t think she can.

Eridan quietly accepts this as he leaves.

He’s moping to himself in a memory of his old hive when the Pirate Queen knocks on his door. She comforts him and they try to make light of what terrible people they were. Again, they dance around the issue a bit, even humoring a bit of roleplay for old times sake, before they finally talk about the main issue.

Eridan laments how much it hurts to not be forgiven. Vriska can relate, but only to an extent. “I can live with Tavros not forgiving me, 8ut I don’t know where I’d 8e without Terezi. That sounds a 8it closer to what you’re going through.”

Vriska offers that, sense he’s making amends, maybe he could join the King’s Court.

Eridan turns her down. He wants to make amends on his own terms first.

So, Eridan gathers all the Players he’s helped and unties them against his alternate self. Playing on the flaws he knows his alternate self has, Eridan orchestrates his downfall, proving to himself that he’s outgrown the pathetic leech he once was. Eridan sees his new friends off with pride, inspiring them to join the Rebellion and fight fir the freedom of the Multiverse.

With that done, Eridan tracks down the Cancer King.

“i'vve wwon back my honor. noww i wwant to wwin back my friend.”

Eridan is the King’s commander in chief against the forces of Her Imperious Condescension. He intends to undo the damage done by his alternate self and win back Karkat’s friendship in one foul swoop. Like Vriska, his opponents tend to underestimate him. They expect the same arrogant manchild he used to be, which he uses to catch them off guard. In fact, his effectiveness was so great, that it took Karkat awhile to realize that he wasn’t God-Tier and was, in fact, still dead. Karkat rectified the issue soon after, but it’s a testament to how far he’s come.

Eridan spends most of his time with Vriska. The two of them forming something of a support group about being “the reformed bad guys” of the group. It never quite reaches the outright moirail levels that she has with Terezi though.

Gamzee holds him in considerably high regard for doing such a 180. It’s the reason he gave him and Vriska such lofty titles. Rose speculates if that has something to do with Gamzee’s unwillingness to face his own issues, but that’s for another day.

Like Aradia, Eridan never forgets the weight of what they’re doing. In fact, he refuses to associate with the ‘sacrifice’ side of the Court’s buisness. He understands the necessity of it, but he’s a reformed man. He can’t bring himself to sink back down there.

For a similar reason, he tries to let anyone know that he's The Holy Prince. He can’t stand to think about what the Players might say if they knew what their mentor was a part of.

Still, Eridan makes a point of befriending those he dismissed. He shares hunting stories with the Purrdator, he relates to the Bard’s loneliness. He even buries the hatchet with Sollux.

Eridan trusts in Terezi to keep Karkat on the straight and narrow, but he still worries about him. Eridan knows exactly what it’s like to bury yourself in your flaws. Luckily, he tends to inspire Karkat to be more merciful just by his example. The King even took the time to learn some of Eridan’s favorite board games.

In the end, The Holy Prince is a loyal man who holds himself to a high moral standard. A competent commander and a friend to all his students. Eridan Ampora is someone Karkat is proud to call his friend.

god I love that you just submitted this because I SCREAMED when I saw it.

also????? eridan being a source of advice for KARKAT????? YES PLEASE

anyways you said figure and I went OF ANGELS??? because hell yeah I'm gonna incorporate more aspect stuff. also eridan being a voice of reason is concerning and funny at the same time. i respect that you had vriska relate to him but even then like she has terezi which is SUCH a valid point!!!! eridan has to get there for a LONNNNNNNGGGG while but I'm actually glad that he’s working towards being better seeing he always had that potential but never took it.

#homestuck #eridan ampora #the holy prince #karkat vantas #sollux captor #aradia medigo #vriska serket #feferi peixes #the red death #the pirate queen #cancer king karkat #au #doodleart #submission #anon #evil john anon #jjhfjrjrhjrbrbrnjrrm

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lightwormlol · 3 years

Text

ACOFAS REVIEW -INC SPOILERS

4.5 stars.

Okay, so! This was the first book I was able to finish in 2021. I've kinda been in a reading slump, and struggling to get past the 30-50% of books. I think its because I took essentially 3 months off my normal (daily) reading schedule and have been prioritising other things (health, fitness, job applications etc) - I think it's a testament to how addicted I was to this that I finished and consumed this at the rate I did! I recently went back and added some things to my ACOWAR review. To briefly summarise, I feel that, at the time I read it, it kind of gave me what I needed, but it definitely isn't getting a re read - my love for feysand has definitely lessened over time, but honestly i'm not that mad at sarah for this, as I find that whenever I've passed the sexual tension part of relationships in books, I tend to get bored of the domestic bliss. Like, leave that shit for an epilogue and keep it at that? As someone generally averse to relationships, but there is definitely a grace period for how long I can actively be smitten with a couple... before it becomes sickly. Taking all this into account, I honestly was nervous for this book, its release date totally took me by surprise, and I read it on a whim. As a Nessian shipper (I mean we didn't really have a choice after acomaf but to delve into the world of fanfic to keep us going) - this book gave me most of what I wanted and needed from them! I think,(some) kudos to SJM, for not disappointing in their relationship. This was definitely a character > plot driven story. In terms of the plot, I wasn't really invested until around the 38% mark? I'm not sure if I was adjusting to the writing style (lots of dramatic. sentences. that. are. so. abrupt. Nesta Archeron. Death etc) - or if it was bc I hadn't read an SJM book since the novella, which I basically skimmed. I was obviously reading for Nessian, but I didn't really feel intrigued by the wider plot (death gods, the human queens? Given I had lost my previous obsession with the world/ have outgrown 'fandom' culture, that made me actively update my knowledge, I couldn't remember a lot!) I think its clear that SJM excels character driven stories, but I think her worldbuilding and execution is significantly better in the throne of glass franchise. Now, I did say this was a character driven story. This is mostly regarding Nesta, Cassian and Azriel. I loved pretty much any interaction they had! I love a good training montage. Ngl though, I think, unless you possess an ardent love for Nessian, you're not going to be particularly wowed by this, if you've read heir of fire, or even acomaf. I obviously am never going to be able to be objective, because I've loved nessian so much from 2017-now, but I loved the dynamic those two (and three - friendship wise between nes/cass/az). One of the highlights of ACOWAR for me was the snippets of Az, showing tenderness, and opening up to the newer members of the inner circle (and i'm excluding any hint of an Elriel ship because FUCK THAT LOL) For me, the tip with SJM books is: once you outgrow them/the particular mode of narrative style, is to not anticipate anything other than a character driven story, albeit one riddled with smut. I personally am a romance heavy reader, so I'm honestly deconditioned to it at this point, (like, when I see reviewers scandalised I'm like... wow, the amount of trash I have consumed in the last five years loool.) While I disagree with the fact SJM marketed this series as y/a (or maybe it wasn't her per se, but the key booksellers definitely did this for her) - I think its clear enough now she's descended into the adult/borderline erotica genre.(very mild imo). I personally like to adopt a policy of skimming sex scenes when I find the dialogue cringy (most the time it is lets be honest any talking is v second hand embarrassment). Cassian and Nesta were definitely better than Rhys and Feyre post chapter 55 though! I was so glad there weren't a million moments of Cass/Nesta betraying their arousal with their scents, in front of everyone (like feysand, the voyeuristic pda pricks they are). I found the slowburn ish nature of their relationship great, and I actually think if you're a virgo/emotionally stunted reader, you will be happy with their relationship dynamic. It contrasts with the daemati sexual snark of acomaf, but it felt right, and authentic. This book was a journey of personal growth, for Nesta. It is clear SJM loves books about strong women, and maybe thats what makes me love this book so much. I think, out of all the archeron sisters, I love Nesta the most. This is for my Rose Calloway fans, my misunderstood, somewhat cold/left out girls, who are less receptive to being vulnerable. If you're a slowburn fan, it's not Mariana Zapata levels of slowburn, imo it's the perfect combo. Addictive enough that I don't want to put it down, but not so fast moving that I couldn't believe it. I loved the sex without emotion relationship they had!! This is honestly never done in mainstream n/a fantasy, unless its a caricature of a 'slut' that normally rivals the main character, lmao. Even if their inner conflict was p transparent, this gave me everything I needed! I know this is vapid lol but I also love the physical dynamic between the two, they just look so good together, the amount of fanart I'm going to reacquaint myself with after this review!! I adored seeing Nesta grow, (even if towards the end I kind of resented her sudden acceptance into the inner circle, i get SJM loves her and just wanted a fluffy ending, but, as a Nesta like character, it's awkward and stilted on her end to adjust to the inner circle like this - i mean, hugging rhys, really??)

I think, if I had to compare this to any other SJM book, I would say Chaols book (though I obviously preferred this). That being said, I felt less attached to new characters in this book than I was in even Chaols book (and even then ngl I remember nothing?) Obviously I loved what it represented, as a trio of traumatised women. I just, didn't love this the way I loved other inner circle members! I get that they gave Nesta exactly what they needed, a family that doesn't hold the history of her sisters, who she doesn't have to worry about holding preconceived notions of disappointment. I loved this for her! Even then.. I just wasn't attached to either of them. I found their interactions cute - but boring. Towards the end, when their stories/pasts are revealed, I couldn't help but cringe slightly, I can't put my finger on why, but I just didn't buy it. Maybe it's the brit in me but I couldn't be moved by this slightly forced bonding moment.. which was so anticlimactic. My 'aww how cute' tolerance is defo deserved for characters whose tropes I love. Maybe they just didn't fit into this list. Maybe I'm just being a cow here?

Now, let's speak about the real star of the show.... A FUCKING MAGICAL HOUSE FRIEND??? YESSSSSSS. IF YOU ARE AN ILONA ANDREWS INNKEEPERS CHRONICLES FAN, U WILL LOVE! How was the animation of this somehow more touching than all of nesta's other friendships combined? Exactly what I ordered, thank you. This trope somehow touches more than any material bonding!! The cute witch x house dynamic (also maybe howls moving castle vibes?) I loved the trying to reach the target of 10,000 steps (a little Celaena HOF). I think this, heir of fire and acomaf are my favourite SJM books for this reason. Gripes: I definitely had some personal gripes with how other members of the inner circle treated Nesta (rhys i'm looking at you. Disappointed doesn't even cover it.) I inherently take offence to any elain scene, as i'm so over bland characters whose existence is reduced to wanting to fucking plant flowers?? like?? really? To go from moriel to that is such a downgrade, even if I fell out of love with Mor due to the way she snubbed Nesta (you're a 500 year old being and you can't see someone is clearly traumatised?). I adore Az so much, but if it aint polyamorous, I cannot see any pairing with Elain making me happy. (wouldn’t mind gwyn though) I think the whole mating bond that I do not want is a good dynamic, but I really hate that everyone has to be mates in this world. I don't think we were that surprised, but it would've been nice if the somehow, idk, developed a strong bond over time, without it being preordained? Like, even if they do not all actively stay with their mate, given how disproportionate mates are among the general population, what's the likelihood 6 members of the inner circle (including lucien) have mates?

My advice? Read this book if you love nessian and the acotar world in general, but don't expect the world building to be consistent with greater fantasy series'. This style of story is obviously what to expect. She writes what she likes, and if her fantasy is this - then who are we, as readers, to expect otherwise?

Final rating: 4.5 (no, i'm not objective, but objectivity does not exist if you are a real, human being, lol)

Original Characters: 5/5 (nessian/az/house wise) 1/5 (feysand - really over how they essentially take over the very end of the book - ugh, I wanted nesta's arc to be wholly separate from them) Writing style: 3.5 Cringe Scale: Low, with the exception of some dialogue. New Characters: 2 Plot: I went into it with a 2 and came out with a 4. Not in terms of complexity, but in terms of how addictive and enjoyable this reading experience was! (less)

#acofas #sjm #sarah j maas #acotar #nesta #nesta archeron #nessian

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Best Part of Me -Chapter 63

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @ocfairygodmother

With a late afternoon rain came a break in the oppressive humidity; a much cooler breeze appearing as the sun began to set. The four oldest are already tucked into bed; satisfied and content after daddy obliged every request for ‘just one more story’ and they were spoiled with seemingly endless cuddles, hugs, and kisses. So relaxed and secure knowing that he’s under the same room that sleep came easily to all of them; worn out from not only the excitement of him showing up unexpectedly, but then spending every waking moment of the rest of the day vying for his attention. Constantly talking over one another, fighting over who go to sit on his shoulders when they showed him the animals, squabbling over who got to be beside him at dinner. It’s only been four days since they’d seen him at the airport, but it may as well have been a lifetime to them; ten minutes not nearly enough to erase the ache in their little hearts or the feeling of loneliness inside of them.

While not exactly a constant fixture in their lives at times because of the job and its unpredictability, he’d always been a hands-on father; starting right from the moment they found out there was a baby -or babies, in this twins’ case- on the way. Attentive and loving and even more protective than usual; determined to keep both her and the life inside of her as safe, secure, and healthy as possible. Feeling pride and wonder that he’d even been given the chance to be a father again; able to create life and nurture it when in all aspects, he should have died that day on the Sultana Kamal Bridge. Every one of the pregnancies...everyone of the kids...serving as reminders of not only just how lucky he’d gotten that day, but that someone who’d made the mistakes and the bad decisions he’d had could still be worthy enough to be a dad once more. And he’s always been determined to be the best one he can possibly be; wanting to not only right all previous wrongs, but to prove that he could be a better man -and husband and father- than his old man had tried to teach him to be. Loving his children with every shred of his being and devoting himself to every aspect of their care and upbringing; even things as simple and mundane as changing diapers or giving them bottles or at the very least bringing to her for a feed.

As the first three got older, he took on new challenges and changes to guide them and help shape them for their futures. Whether it be something as profound as encouraging them to be compassionate and accepting and loving, or something as ‘normal’ as teaching them to surf and play soccer or even learning how to braid his little girl’s hair. No task too big or too small. Never complaining about being woken up in the middle of the night or hesitating when it comes to both showing affection and receiving it. And as corny and as sappy as it sounds, Esme realizes just how fortunate she really is; having someone that is willing to do it all without having to even be asked. She’s heard plenty of horror stories from the moms at school; tales of lazy and useless husbands that complain about even a half an hour spent for their children. Always able to brag about him and then able to go home knowing how she ‘lucked out’. Somehow, even during the craziest and possibly scariest time of her, managing to find the best possible person -and partner- to have a family with.

She stands by the open door of the balcony that leads off the bedroom she’d been ‘assigned to’. Both watching and listening to him as he lays flat on his back on a two person lounge chair with Addie on his chest; her tiny fists curled tightly around his index fingers as she alternates between raising her head and resting her chin against him. Those enormous dark eyes never leaving his face and a happy -and completely genuine- smile taking over her face every time he talks to her; the corners of her eyes and the bridge of her nose crinkling. He changes when he’s with her. In the same way he had with all the others when they were babies. This big, tough, strong man suddenly so gentle; his voice softer and calmer. Deeper, even. Enamored with her in the same way she is with him; his own eyes sparkling and crinkling and his own smile both testament to the fact that he finds her a complete wonder. Not quite believing that she really exists; questioning what he could have possibly done to deserve her.

He’s a wonder himself. So brave and fearless and capable of inflicting so much pain and suffering, yet possessing so much tenderness and love. It would be so easy for him to be jaded and broken; to fall back into old habits and to become dependent on old, dangerous vices. But no matter how bad things get, no matter how difficult or impossible they seem, he puts all his time and effort into being a good man. Into loving his wife and children with everything he has.

“What are you guys doing?” she asks, as she steps out onto the balcony, drawing her hoodie tight across her body.

Tyler tilts his head back and smiles up at her. “Nothing. Just hanging out. Talking.”

“I hope you’re not telling her gruesome stories.”

“I would never do that to my little peanut,” he declares, and runs a palm over Addie’s hair, hand settling on the back of her head. “Daddy would never do that to you. He saves that stuff for mommy.”

“Because mommy so wants to hear your tales of killing people with garden tools. Look at the way she looks at you…” Esme leans over the back of the lounger and presses a kiss to his lips. “...like you’re got rainbows and glitter coming out of your ass or something. Already a daddy’s girl.”

“Nothing wrong with that. She knows who loves her the most. Who used to bring mommy tacos and ice cream and pop tarts at three in the morning when she was still in mommy’s tummy.”

“She definitely likes your voice. Not that I blame her; it’s a very nice voice.”

“She’s strong as hell already. Already holding her up on her own. None of the other ones did it that early. And she’s got a grip on her. Small and mighty. Like her momma. And you look just like your mom.” he addresses Addie now, as he removes his fingers from her grip and lifts her higher onto his chest; lips resting briefly against her forehead. “Beautiful just like her. Daddy’s not going to complain that you didn’t get his genes.”

“How do you think I feel? The first four look just like you. It’s about time one of them took after me. She does have your smile, though. Even her eyes and her nose wrinkle like yours do.”

“Yeah, but she’s all you. And that’s good,” he smiles up at her once more, as her hands slide over his shoulder and down his chest and she pecks the corner of his mouth. “It’s very good. She’s incredible. Just like you.”

“Are you hopped up on pain meds?” She teases.

“Not yet. Why? I’m not allowed to be all sappy and shit with my wife?”

“You’re allowed,” she says, then sinks down beside him, accepting a short, sweet kiss before stretching out on her side. Chin resting on his good shoulder, one hand on his stomach and the other just above his head; fingers gently combing through his hair. “She’s putting on weight. She’s going to graduate out of preemie clothes and diapers. Only took two and a half months.”

“She’s tiny. Like you.”

“I don’t understand how something that small can come from someone the size of you. None of the other kids were that small. Not even Tanner and he was sick. And Declan? Don’t even get me started on that kid. That was like giving birth to a toddler.”

“She’s always going to be tiny. I mean, you hit twelve and never grew again.”

“You know what, Tyler? Fuck you and your short jokes.”

“Don’t be bitter because you can’t get on the rides at the amusement park or reach things at the bottom of the washer.”

“You’re not very funny,” she grumbles, and presses a kiss to his chin. “Just because you’re absurdly tall and absurdly good looking. What a burden you have to live with every day. How do you manage? How do you carry such a heavy load all the time?”

“Heavy load? We’re talking about my dick?”

“You’re a pig,” she declares. “Don’t talk like that in front of my child. She doesn’t need to hear these things. Look at the way she smiles at you. You’re her favourite already. Not that I blame her; you’re my favourite too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. No one else comes close.”

He smiles, then turns his face into hers and kisses her. “We did good, yeah? With her?”

“We did. With all five of them. And at the risk of sounding conceited, we make some pretty damn good looking kids.”

“Some pretty amazing kids.”

“Well, they have an amazing dad, so…” she raises her head from his shoulder, regarding him intensely as she runs her fingers through his hair. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” Tyler admits. “I really don’t.”

“Are you going to tell me about it, or…”

“I don’t really want to.”

“I think you should. I think you NEED to talk about it. And I think deep down, you want to. You don’t have to shelter me, Tyler. I married a mercenary; I went into things understanding the life and knowing the risks. You don’t have to hide stuff from me. You think you’d realize that by now.”

“I do. But YOU should realize that I do it to protect you.”

“Protect me from what? You? Because that’s bullshit and you know it. I’ve never once been afraid of you. Not in the slightest. And despite what you think, you’re not a burden. We went into this...marriage, having a family...expecting to help shoulder each other’s problems. So stop trying to do it all on your own. You’re strong, but you’re not THAT strong.”

He sighs heavily, then drops a kiss on the top of Addie’s head

“What happened, Tyler? Because I know this goes way beyond someone just jumping you. What the hell went wrong?”

“I don’t know. It was fucked up right from the beginning. As soon as I got there. It was this old factory turned into student housing or some shit. I had these four guys to take out; four shots, that’s all I needed. They were across the street at some bar or restaurant or whatever. I was waiting for them to come out. It should have been so fucking simple.”

Esme rolls over onto her stomach, chin resting on his chest as she regards him; patiently waiting for him to continue. She doesn’t push; that will only cause him to shut down completely. Instead she bides her time. Watching his face as her fingers fidget with the chain around his neck.

“Things started going to shit. The street lights kept going on and off; just the two right in front of us. Then they went out completely. So I went to get the scope out of my bag, so I could see what the fuck I was doing.” His eyes narrow and his brow furrows as he attempts to recall the details. “And I don’t know I saw him or heard him but all of a sudden he was just there?”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. Just some guy. Big bastard. Wearing a black ski mask. It happened so fucking fast. I didn’t even get a chance to react. Nailed me right in the shoulder; like he knew where to get me. Where one of my weak spots is.”

“How would he know that?”

Tyler shrugs. “Nik there’s a mole. She said she’s looking into it, but I don’t know. She hasn’t said anything since.”

“What do you think”

“I think something’s fucked. He knew where to get me; knee, back, shoulder. He knew it and he took advantage of it. I stand a fucking chance. That’s how quick he was. He was so fast, babe. He wasn’t fucking around.”

“And where did these come from?” She runs a hand along the enormous, painful to the touch bruises on his biceps; arm now out of the sling. At least for the evening. “Both arms? And that’s NOT from someone grabbing you.”

“It was his knees. He wanted to keep me still; so I couldn’t get to my holster or the rifle. Fucking kept grabbing me by the throat; trying to choke me out. Kept asking me if I give up. I basically told him to go fuck himself. I wasn’t giving up. No way in hell. All I kept thinking about was you…” his voice cracks with emotion and tears well in his eyes. “...all I kept thinking about was you. About me getting a second chance and that I wasn’t done with it; I wasn’t ready to let that end. That I didn’t want to leave you or my kids. That I needed to survive. That YOU needed me to survive.”

“Tyler…” she presses a kiss to his cheek, then nestles her nose against his temple; eyes closed and her forehead against him, fingers still moving through his hair. “...it’s okay. Just breathe. That’s all you have to do. Just breathe.”

“I wasn’t going out like that. I wasn’t letting it end like that. I wasn’t letting US end. So I fought back. But I couldn’t get away. No matter what I did, it wasn’t good enough. He was so fucking strong, babe. Tall and big and heavy as fuck.”

“How did you get away?”

“I don’t know. There’s A LOT I don’t know. That I don’t remember. It’s all a big blur. It’s all there there and I know it’s all there but I can’t piece it together and none of it makes sense.”

“Well tell me what you do remember,” Esme encourages. “It doesn’t have to make sense. Just tell me whatever comes to you.”

“I know he drugged me. I remember that part.”

“Drugged you? What…?”

“He had a needle. I remember seeing it. I remember feeling it. Right there…” he lays a finger against the right side of his neck. “...just jammed it in. It was cold; whatever was in it. It was cold and it burned.”

She heaves a long, shaky sigh; her own tears threatening. “If he wanted to kill you, why would he do that? Why…?”

“He didn’t want to kill me. He wanted to knock my ass out. He probably had a few buddies waiting to help get me out of there. I know that sounds crazy. It sounds fucked up even to me. But I know that’s what was going to happen; what Mahajan told them to do. And I don't know where they were going to take me. Somewhere in the city, out of it, I don’t know. But it wouldn’t have been good once they got me there.”

“I don’t even want what to think about it,” her voice trembles.

“They would’ve let you know. That I was still alive. And they would have made you sure you knew what they were doing to me. They would have sent you pictures or made me call you or mailed you pieces of me.”

“I don’t want to think about it,” she repeats, then promptly bursts into tears; one hand clutching the front of his shirt and the other at his hair, face buried in his neck. “Please don’t. Don’t talk about it. Just stop.”

****

His shoulder throbs just with the simple act of laying his hand on Addie’s back to keep her secure. And he wraps his left arm around his wife’s trembling body, drawing her tightly into his side. Eyes closed and his chin resting on the top of her head; hand sliding up the back of her simple cotton t-shirt, knuckles repeatedly brushing up and down her spine. Not even attempting to hold his own tears back; feeling the moisture from hers settling on the side of his throat and his shoulder.

“I can’t think about it,” she whimpers. “I can’t. I can’t think about what they would have done to you.”

“It’s okay, baby. It doesn’t matter now. I’m here. It didn’t work. Whatever they had planned, I fucked it up. And I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

“They’re sick and twisted fucks!” she cries. “And they would have made sure I knew what they were doing to do you and I wouldn’t have been able to do a goddamn thing about it. I wouldn’t have been to help or get you out of there. I wouldn’t have been able to do a fucking thing for you.”

“It’s alright, Esme. You don’t have to worry about it. It didn’t work. I fucked up everything for them and now I’m here with you and the kids. Where I should have been all along.”

“I don’t understand,” she raises her head to look at him. “How did they know where you were?”

Tyler shrugs.

“How did they get that close to you? Close enough to do all of this? How…?”

“I must have slipped up somehow. Maybe my brain is worse than we thought. Maybe I’m slowing down. Making mistakes Maybe…”

“You don’t make mistakes,” she argues. “I know you. I know how you work. I’ve SEEN you work, You don’t slip. You don’t fuck up. And you are as hell aren’t slowing down. You’re even better now than you were back in Dhaka. And that’s saying a lot because you were pretty fucking amazing even then.”

“Something happened. I made a mistake somewhere.”

“YOU didn’t do shit. This isn’t on you, Tyler. This is not your fault. Someone fucked up, but it wasn’t you. Who was watching you? Where were they?”

“Across the street. Keeping an eye on shit.”

“Across the street?! How the hell were they keeping an eye on you from across the goddamn street?! Whose idea was that? Yours?”

“I didn’t want anyone breathing down my neck. I can’t work like that. I’ve NEVER been able to work like that. And it’s not like I knew was going to happen. I didn’t want in there expecting some fuck not come in and choke me out and stab me with a fucking needle.”

“Okay...okay...calm down…” Her tone is gentle, his face in her hands. “...it’s alright. I’m not attacking you. Just take a break; everything’s fine. Addie’s asleep. And so she’s tiny and she’s so warm and I know you don’t want to scare her. Calm down, okay?” She presses a kiss to his lips. “Just stay calm.”

“I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

“Who was supposed to be watching you?”

“Nathan. He had to take the four guys out when that fucking asshole came after me,”

“Calm…” she encourages, thumbs brushing over his lips. “...just stay calm. It’s okay. It's just you and me talking. No one else. No one’s judging you, Tyler.”

His eyes close, and he inhales deeply and exhales slowly. “Nathan,” he says, eyes opening and focusing on her. “Nathan was there; across the street. He took care of things. I don’t know what happened after that. Cops showed up, he took off. No one has seen or heard from him since.”

She frowns. “Nathan’s missing?”

“Missing. AWOL. I don’t fucking know. He’s gone. Cell and his SAT just go right to voicemail.”

“Could someone have gotten a hold of him? Could there have been someone else?”

“Why would they want him? What does holding him do? He’s a nobody to them. He means nothing to Mahajan. It’s me he wants. Taking Nathan does shit.”

“Well where could he be? Why would he just take off? That makes no sense.”

“Who the fuck knows. Maybe he’s dead. I have no idea. I just know he’s gone and no one knows where he is.”

“This is fucked up. Way more than we thought it was. We knew it wasn’t going to be easy. That Mahajan plays dirty and that he’d just step it up as time went on. Now people are going missing? YOU almost went missing. What the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know, babe. I really don’t know.”

“You need to walk away. This ends here. Your part is this. It ends right here, right now. Walk away, Tyler.”

“I can’t. The job isn’t even close to being finished.”

“Fuck the job. It’s finished for you. Look at you! Look what they did to you! They knew where you were, they knew what spots to target. They fucking drugged you! That alone could have killed you. Do you even know what he gave you?”

“Ketamine. I guess it’s a sedative of some kind.”

“Yeah, for horses! What the fuck? What’s next? If they get that close again, what happens?”

“They won’t get another chance.”

“You don’t know that. They’re not going to stop, Tyler. Do you really think they’re just going to walk away? They’re not going to give up. Not until they get you. He knows you’re here. Mahajan. He knows you’re in Mumbai. And soon your name and your picture are going to be everywhere and every goddamn gun in this city is going to be pointed at you. Is that what you want? You WANT there to be?”

“No,” he scowls. “That’s NOT what I want.”

“Then why are you doing this? Why won’t you just walk away? Why can’t you just let Anil and his people and Nik and hers handle this? Why are you doing this?”

“Because it’s MY family. Not theirs. Mine.”

“And your family wants you alive!” Esme retorts. “We don’t want you out there dying for us. We need you here. With us. So just tell Anil you’re walking away . That you HAVE to walk away. That you need to be with your family. Tell him.”

Tyler shakes his head. “I can’t, baby. I can’t do that.”

“You don’t need to do this. There’s other people who are more than capable of handling things. Walk away, Tyler. Before you can’t. Before it’s too late. Because if they go that close to you once, they’ll do it again. And this time it won’t be just one guy. It’ll be two. Or three. Or four. Or half a fucking dozen. Why aren’t you listening to me?”

“I am listening. You’re not listening to me.”

“This is a suicide mission. This is the kind shit you used to pull before we met. Don’t go back to that. Don’t go back to being him. He died a long time ago. You said it yourself; that he was long gone. You’re not the same person you were back then. You have me and you have five little beings you helped make. That love you and need you in their lives.”

“I’m doing this for them. For he,” he nods down at Addie as she sleeps peacefully. “So she can grow up. So she can have a life.”

“A life without you. That’s what you’re saying, right? That you’re going to sacrifice yourself for her. For us.”

“We knew that going into this. That it would happen.”

“No. We thought it MIGHT happen. There’s a difference. And I’m asking you...NO...I’m telling you...walk away so you don’t have to make that choice. So it doesn’t come to that.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I am so sorry.”

“So what’s it? You’ve just decided that this is what’s going to happen? You just decided for yourself that you’re going to give up. You’re telling me that you’re okay with that. Dying for us.”

“I’ve already taken bullets for you. Trying to get you the fuck out of Dhaka. And I would take all of those bullets again. And then some. I would die for you in a heartbeat. For you, for my kids. No hesitation.”

“But you shouldn’t have to!” Esme argues. “And you don’t have to. Just walk away. Let other people handle this. Please. You have two choices and you’re making the wrong one. Why can’t you see that?”

“If I give myself up, he’ll leave you alone.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you? That that’s going to solve everything? Because it won’t. You offering yourself up like some kid of sacrificial fucking lamb is not the answer.”

“Hey...calm…” He reaches up and pushes a hand through her hair, tightly gripping the back of her head. “...you told me to stay calm for Addie. Now I need you to stay calm for her. She doesn’t need this. She's a baby. Just a baby.”

“Yeah, she is. She’s OUR baby. As in me and you. And she needs you. She needs her dad. They all do. And you’re sitting here telling me that you’re willing to offer yourself up. It’s bullshit and it’s insane and I want you to knock it the fuck off.”

“I said calm down!” He orders, then aggressively pulls her into him. Pressing a kiss to her forehead. “...just calm down. Please. Take it easy.”

“You are NOT doing this. I won’t let you. This is not what we talked about, This is not what we agreed on.”

“There’s no other choice.”

She shoves him away. “There’s always another choice! It doesn’t have to come down to this. You for us. It doesn’t need to be this way and you know it.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do. I can’t just walk away. I can’t.”

“Promise me when you walk out that door two days from now that won’t just go and offer yourself up. You don’t need to do that. There’s other ways. There’s still fight left in you. I know right now you feel like there isn’t. I know you're doubting yourself. But I have faith in you and I know you can handle this. WITHOUT giving yourself up. Promise me you’ll fight back. That you’re not just quitting. That THAT will be the last resort.”

“If I have no other choice, I’ll do it.”

“But right now you HAVE other choices. You know that, right? You see that?”

Tyler nods.

“Because you don’t give up. You NEVER give up. You’re alive today because you didn’t. So don’t fucking start now. I mean we’re supposed to be having another baby. And I don’t know if you realize how these things work, but I kind of need you for that.”

“I could always just jerk off into a cup and you save it.”

“Okay, you know what? No. I’d rather the old fashion way, thank you. I kind of like having sex with you. It’s kinda fun.”

He smirks. “Kinda?”

“Okay, it’s a lot of fun, actually. I didn’t think I had to say that. I thought the results spoke for themselves. We don’t have kids for nothing. And I’d say go for the sixth one right now, but you jumped the gun and you decided we were done and go the old…” she holds her hand up, mimicking a pair of scissors with her index and middle finger.

“Not my best decision, I admit.”

“You have this uncanny ability of changing your mind about this whole having another baby thing. How many times have we decided that we’re stopping only for you to turn around and want another one the second the baby came home?”

“It’s never been THAT soon.”

“Excuse me? How old were the twins when you decided that three wasn’t enough after all?”

“Yeah…” he gives a small, almost sad smile. “...but that one didn’t work out, did it.”

“No.” She presses a kiss to his temple. “It didn’t. And I know it was hard on you. That you didn’t really get to grieve like I did. I’m sorry for that. That I wasn’t there for you in the way you were for me. I’m pretty fucking selfish, aren’t I.”

“No, you’re not. You needed me a lot more than I needed you. Just hard sometimes still. Thinking about it. It was a shitty fucking time. I didn’t think anything could hurt THAT bad.”

“Do you ever wonder? What it would have been?”

“Sometimes,” he admits, running a palm over Addie’s hair and then laying it gently on the top of her head; thumb repeatedly brushing against her ear. “Sometimes I’ll think about it; if it would have been a boy or a girl and what they would have looked like. Then I think maybe things really do happen to reason, no matter how bad they are. If we had had that baby. Declan wouldn’t be here. And maybe we would have stopped after and Addie wouldn’t be here. And I wouldn’t trade either of them for anything.”

“You’re beautiful,” she says, feeling him grin when she kisses the corner of his mouth. “You have the most beautiful mind and this most beautiful heart. And I know you hate me using that word when it comes to describing you. But it’s true; I can’t help it.”

“I’ll let it slide. I’ll let you have it.”

“I have to say, despite my initial reservations about having another one, you do do the whole ‘big, strong man with a tiny baby’ thing very well.”

“You find it sexy don’t you.”

“Very. I find you very sexy. But this…” she trails her fingertips over the myriad of bruises that take up nearly every inch of his neck. “...this is scary. I’ve seen you with a lot of injuries. I’ve even seen you in the worst possible shape. But this? This bothers me the most for some reason. And what’s going on here…” she turns his face away from her and tender fingers investigate the scar left behind from Farhad. “...what were they trying to do? That’s the worst spot. I don’t think it would take much to fuck things up in there.”

“They knew exactly what to target.”

“Any idea who it was?”

“One of the guys off the list. Number 18. Weird part about it? He worked for Asif during the whole Dhaka thing. Guess he was his right hand man. Moved on to Mahajan when Nik put a couple bullets into Asif.”

“Now that’s fucked, Go from drug lord to the other? So much for loyalty. How’d you kill him?”

“Shot him. Under the chin. I don’t know how I managed. Last thing I remember was that fucking needle. That’s it. Everything else is a blur. Came to and there was a dead body on top of me. I don’t even know how long I was out for.”

“You called me. Some time before you passed you. You don’t remember that, either?”

Tyler shakes his head.

“It freaked me out. I could hear you breathing and it sounded like you were trying to say something. That wasn't a random pocket dial, was it.”

“No. It wasn’t. I don’t even know why I called. I don’t know if I was calling you for help or if I thought I was dying and I wanted to tell you that I loved you…” his voice wavers once again and tears return to his eyes. “...if I wanted your voice to be the last thing I heard. And I wish I did remember it. That I called.”

“It’s okay.” She places a series of kisses across his forehead, then down the bridge of his nose. “...it’s okay now. You’re here and that’s what matters. You made it out of there. You found a way. You always do.”

“What if I don’t next time? What if it is two guys? Or three or four? Half a dozen? A dozen?”

“I shouldn’t have put that in your head. I’m sorry.” She brushes the tip of her nose against his temple. “That is the last thing you needed to hear. I should have kept my mouth shut.”

“I was thinking it long before you said it.”

“I know you want to stay on this. And I get it. I do…” she runs her knuckles along his jaw, beard scraping her skin. “...I know you want to protect us. And I love you so much for that and I love that part of you so fiercely. You ALWAYS protect us. Everything you do, every decision you make, it’s always for us. But you can protect us without being out there. You know you can. I know you can.”

“How? If I don’t stop them, they’ll get to you. And the kids.”

“But if you’re here, you can stop them. And look at all the people that are here to help. Nik, all of Anil’s people. That’s a lot of fire power. And before you hand me that bullshit about how it’s up to you and only you to protect us, don’t even go there. Because you’re good, but not even you can stop them by yourself. You need help. So swallow your fucking pride and admit that. That you can’t do it alone.”

“I’m not alone. I’be some my guys and Nik’s people and…”

“You were alone the other night,” Esme points out. “What was Nathan going to do from across the street? That is not helping. That’s YOUR version of helping. If you’re here, under the same room as all these people, Mahajan and his cronies won’t stand a chance. We’re safer if you’re here. And I think you realize that.”

“It’s putting a bigger target on you and the kids,” he argues. “If they figure out I’m here, they’ll show up.”

“Isn’t that what we want? Them out in the open? Let them come here. With all these people? With you? They won’t get very far, will they At least tell me you’re listening and not blocking me out. Usually I can read your face, but right now I’m not so sure.”

“I’m not blocking you, babe. I’m listening.”

“It makes more sense for you to be here than it does for you to be out on the street where every goddamn gun will be pointed at you. If you’re here, there’s more control over the situation, right? You’d have the upper hand because you’d be familiar with the place and they wouldn’t. And you can’t tell me you wouldn’t feel better being with us. That you don’t WANT to be here.”

“I do,” Tyler assures her. “It’s the only place I do want to be.”

“Then just do it. Just tell Anil that’s how it’s going to be. Explain to him why it makes the most sense. Deep down, you know this is the right thing to do. You know it’s better for us...especially the kids...if you’re here. And I know you can’ deny that it would be better for you, too. Mentally speaking.”

“Yeah,” he admits with a nod. “You’re right.”

“Stop being so stubborn,” Esme implores. “This is not the time for that. You know this is the best way to handle things. I know you do. But I also know you hate taking advice from other people and that everything you do has to be your idea.”

He smirks. “You really DO know me well.”

“I so do. I also know I’m the only one who can talk like this to you and not have you get defensive. It’s too dangerous, Tyler. Especially now that Mahajan knows you’re in Mumbai and he’s stepping things up. You can’t be out on the street and you know it. I know that makes you feel useless. And weak. That you’re second guessing and doubting yourself. And you need to knock that shit off. Because you are the stronger, bravest person I know. And you’re the only one I trust with my life. With our kids’ lives. And I need you here. And you need to be here.”

He sighs, then pushes her fingers through her hair, moving it away from her face and off her shoulder. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what? Insanely beautiful and phenomenally intelligent?”

“I was going to say a huge pain in my ass, but okay, I’ll give you those.”

“What are you so worried about? Mahajan’s people showing up?”

“I don’t exactly what them on the doorstep. I don’t want them where you are. Where the kids are.”

“How far could they get with all these people here? I practically can’t take a pee without someone with an AK following me to the bathroom. What do you think can happen when there’s that much firepower here?”

“That’s exactly it. Firepower. With my kids here.”

“I’m not worried about that. Half of Anil’s basement is a panic room. The kids and I will be fine.”

Tyler frowns.

“What?”

“Why the hell didn’t you mention that right off the hop? Why didn’t you tell me that an hour ago when we started talking about this?”

“I didn’t think it was important.”

He stares at her pointedly.

“I forgot,” Esme admits. “I’m sorry. I should have told you about the panic basement.”

“I swear to God, for the last seven years, this is how our conversations have gone. We talk about something for an hour when it could have been solved in five minutes. You always leave out that one piece of information that could have saved us a lot fucking time.”

“I’m sorry…” she pouts dramatically, then places a line of kisses along his jaw, over his ear, and up onto his head. “...I know that annoys you. Do you still love me?”

“I do. But fuck, you’re a pain in my ass. No wonder I have gray hair and an ulcer.”

“You don’t have an ulcer.”

“Not yet. But when I get one, it’ll have your name on it.”

“I have a confession.”

He sighs. “Of course you do. What is it?”

“I annoy you on purpose. Because you’re so cute when you’re annoyed. You get the cutest look on your face. It’s adorable. I can’t help myself. I’m sorry. I like your face and all your expressions. You have a really nice face.”

He grins. “I’m starting to really question your taste in men.”

“Please! You know you’re ridiculously good looking. It’s okay to be a bit conceited. I can forgive you for that if you can forgive me for being annoying.”

“I don’t know. You’re pretty fucking annoying.”

She scowls, then bites down on his earlobe.

“Ow! Fuck sakes! What is wrong with you? I’m not hurt enough for you? Why you do me like that?”

“Because I know you like it. MY particular brand of pain. What are you going to do? Spank me?”

“You’d like that too much.”

“I would actually,” she says, and then shivers against him when his fingertips graze down her spine. Giggling and squirming against him when he grabs her ass and roughly squeezes “That hurts! What’s your issue?”

“You really want to know?”

Esme nods.

He removes his hand from her ass, then takes one of hers and places it on his crotch.

“Oh…” her eyes widen. “...that’s the only part of you that’s not hurt and IS working properly.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“I am definitely not. Because I missed you. And I’m not talking the sappy and corny shit about missing you and your quirks and all the stupid shit you do. Right now, I really miss having sex with you.”

“If you had just admitted that an hour ago, we could have skipped over a whole lot of drama.”

“We said things that needed to be said and talked about things we needed to talk about. And now, I think you need to use your mouth for something else. IF you’re up to it.”

“Oh, I’m up to it. THAT anyways. Anything else, you might have to do the work. Or the majority of it anyway.”

“You mean I get to be in charge?”

He frowns. “I never said that.”

“You’re such a control freak,” she says, then pecks his lips before sling off the lounge chair and carefully removing a sleeping Addie from his chest. “I’m going to go and put her in her bed. And when I get back, you better be in mind. Naked. Ready to go. I’m not fucking around. Well, I AM. Fucking that is, You know what I mean.”

He’s grinning as he watches her ass move as she walks away. “How much DID you miss me?”

“Not THAT much, Tyler. Forget about it. It’s not our anniversary yet.”

“Early anniversary present?” He suggests hopefully.

“You wish!” She scoffs, then disappears into the house.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fic #tyler rake fan fiction #extraction #extraction 2020 #best part of me #chris hemsworth character

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