#also put the rest of the one piece seasons coward

[cheddertm]

bruh Netflix really put back on Haikyuu but only the first season LIKE BRO I'M PAST THAT POINT OF THE RE-WATCH PUT EM ALL ON COWARD

[taamistuffbox]

criminal minds review (season 1 - 4)

Short criminal mind review by me!!

warning: spoilers n bad english (sorry tengo 2 horas de sueño)

season 1 - 6/10

Solid season but the weakest so far imo. The team dynamic is charming but the characters by themselves are a bit shallow. I got the impression it was like a big pilot season.

fav episodes:

1x06 L.D.S.K. - The "i was aiming for his leg" bit is one of the few things i remember from cm when i watched on axn

1x09 Derailed - A break from the usual progression of the episodes also i love greenaway .

season 2 - 10/10

I finished this season in like 2 working days idc!! Elle departure broke my heart. She will be missed but uhhg!! The character development is just chef kiss. I was HOOKED to the screen.

fav episodes:

2x5 Aftermath - May not be the best of the season but ELLE DID NOTHING WRONG!! and that's a hill I'm willing to die on.

2x11 Sex, Birth, Death - I felt so bad for the kiddo. it's so tragic to see him struggle with his mental health. I loved the empathetic take they decided to give it. The end was just raw.

2x12 Profiler, Profiled - I would die for morgan. My heart was shattered in a million pieces watching this. It left me wanting for more morgan-centric episodes. I love his character but sometimes he gets outshined. Not this time!!! the acting was amazing!! Such an intense episode... (I am a sucker for the "hard in the outside-soft on the inside" type of character)

2x15 Revelations - There was no reason to put this episode so soon after profiler, profiled, my poor heart could not take it. Again, spectacular performances!! ofc the episode was heavily focused on Spencer but they did not forget about the rest of the cast. JJ trauma and internal conflict and the crash she had with Morgan!! and the END!! good episode that impacted the rest of the series (on a side note - I would have loved they developed more on spencers addiction but I get why they probably didn't)

season 3 - 9/10

I fell in love with Prentiss!! I was a little bit worried she was going to be Elle 2.0 but I was thankfully wrong. Rossi is great too. they both have great chemistry with the team. it continues with the quality of season 2, however, some of the cases started to feel biiiit repetitive (officially tired of unsubs with "DID")

fav episodes:

3x5 Seven seconds - Interesting plot and great suspense, it deviates from the usual gory stuff and is just pure desperation instead.

3x8 Lucky - MORE MORGAN DEVELOPMENT!!! my poor sweet boy, i have too religious trauma... ik Morgan meant his best when talking to Garcia but i would have shot him if i was her lol. i honestly thought they were about to pull the jealous card for a minute, i was wrong... (sadly). Also freakyy episode. Loved the cannibalism + religious imagery combo

3x9 Penelope - Garcia is one of my faves characters, she is soo cool. finally, they gave her her well-deserved episode. It is impossible to not love her. Garcia and Morgan are dating in my head. I just don't get why the producers don't make them official already!!! cowards!!

3x20 Lo-Fi - Insanly tense, with many twists. I like when they fucked up the initial profile, it feels more realistic overall. Hotch is at his peak here, as well as JJ. Loveee her relationship with Will. INSANE cliffhanger.

season 4 - 10/10

I loved how Garcia appeared more and more. Half of the time she makes the most work. Improves the great work of season 3 but has more interesting cases.

4x3 Memoriam - The dream plot device is a bit cliche and overused, to be honest. This is not the exception. That aside, Spencer's interaction with his family (especially his dad) was so engaging! very emotional

4x16 Pleasure is my business - Aside from that one dude at the end, the unsub did nothing wrong! free my girl. Great plot, great execution. Funny how the literal killer does not seem half as evil as a group of lawyers.

4x17 Demonogy - Great episode, love the aesthetics. More religious episodes, please...? Prentiss is sooo good in this one. Loved her. The music at the end felt super random tho?? lol

4x17 Omnivore - Great twist. Twist in cm are a hit or miss: they are either super obvious or come out of nothing. (not the caseee) Great pacing too. This season did a great job making Hotch a more interesting character.

4x24 Amplification - I had a 2001 anthrax attack hyperfixation in the past so this episode scratched something in my brain.

4x26 ...and Back - Such a crude episode. A reminder that sometimes even if you do everything as you are supposed to, you cant stop certain things from happening. On another note, I am so thankful I am just now watching every criminal mind episode in order, if I had to suffer that ending i would have lost my heart. I now know Hotch obviously does not die but after all the attention he got in this season i would 100% have believed they killed him fr.

[ansxit]

Witches, Curses, Dream Lords Oh My!

[Morpheus x Reader (Howl's Moving Castle Au)]

a/n} AAAAAA OH MY GOD YOUR GUYS' SUPPORT IS LITERALLY AMAZING I LOVE ALL OF YOUR NOTES THEY MAKE MY DAY !!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️ ((Btw, just comment if you want to be part of a tag list for this series!))

(Also!! Please reblog + like!! It would really mean a lot to me !! <3)

- In a world with witches and wizards, one the most feared and skilled of them all is a loner by the name of The Sandman

TW] Implications of low-self esteem, Verbal Harassment, The act of digging nails into someone's wrists

~Chapter One~

You were sitting at your desk, gently sewing together some additional touches of a line of hats the shop wanted to sell for the oncoming season. Humming softly to the music box that lay open beside you, you reached to grab another pin while the afternoon train came rolling down the tracks. Black clouds trailed behind it, momentarily shading the window in the lobby. You paused, waiting for it to pass until you continued your work, and started humming again.

“Oh! Y/n didn’t you hear the clock chime?” Your manager stood in the doorway, holding her jacket and gloves. “You don’t have to keep working, why don’t you come out to the festival with us?”

“I'm alright, thank you though,” You smiled at her and held up one of the hats. “I just want to finish the rest of these pieces, besides, I have plans to visit Johanna this afternoon.”

She put a hand on her heart and sighed.

“You two are sweet, Y/n. Alright, let me know if you need anything! Make sure you tell her I said hello.” You nodded and she walked out to the waiting girls in the lobby.

“Do you see it?” One of the girls in the other room exclaimed, and you leaned back in your chair to see them all looking out of the long window.“There! Just beyond the clouds!”

“See what?” Another girl asked.

“The Sandman’s castle! Oh, I wonder if he's visiting town for the parade!”

“You don’t think he's really back in the Wastes again?” A younger girl asked. She nervously wrung the hems of her sleeves. “You've heard the stories, he tore out a young woman’s heart last time- who knows what he did to it afterwards!”

“Well you won't have to worry about that,” The first girl’s smile turned into a snicker. “He only steals the hearts of pretty girls~”

“Hey! That's not nice!”

You stood up and rolled your eyes, moving to close your door when a different girl exclaimed,

“No! There’s his palace!” And against your better judgment, you turned to look outside as well.

A puff of white smoke shot out of the castle; if you could even call it that. It looked more like a village on legs, with decaying trees clinging on to what little leaves they had left. It creaked on rusty hinges as it moved further up the mountains, and when the fog finally caught it— it was gone again. Royal planes zipped by, waving the bright pink and yellow colors of your country. They hovered where the castle just was for a few heartbeats, until carrying on with the patrols.

“He's just a coward.” The first girl rolled her eyes. “He's been on the run from the King for how long?”

“Girls!” Your manager called from the door. “Let’s go!”

The other girls giggled as they walked away, already moving their focus to the festival they were celebrating. A strange, compelling, feeling kept you in a daze as you stared after the long gone palace. If you stared hard enough, you thought you could still hear the whining of the machinery behind the clouds. Your heart tugged wildly and you stumbled out of your reverie, bracing a hand against your doorframe to keep from falling over.

A handful of breathing exercises helped to calm you down. You had never had such a reaction to the Sandman’s castle before, but then again, it had never been so close to the town before, it typically liked to walk itself along the mountains or distant plains to make quicker getaways.

When your heart finally stilled, you sat back down and tried to ignore the trembling in your hands. But working couldn't do you any good, you've already completed most of the hats, and anytime you tried to pick up your needle, you would only drop it again.

The finished hats stared back at you as you rested your head in your hands, boredom and nervousness gnawing at the ends of your brain. The town outside was bustling, everyone getting ready for the big celebration that was the Spring Festival. With a determined sigh, you stood up, dusted off your dress, and gathered your personal belongings.

-

“The city is much more alive than I thought.” You commented to yourself, narrowly avoiding the carriages as the square filled with pedestrians and soldiers. Most areas would soon become blocked off for the parade that should be happening in just fifteen minutes. So everyone that had procrastinated was trying to get to where they needed to be for the best view of the festivities.

You noticed the bus that was headed north of the town rang its boarding bell, and you jogged to catch up before it took off. Its compartment was packed full of people, so you just held the outside railing to keep from falling out. Ten minutes later, you got off and looked down at the bakery’s address, and started walking towards its direction.

Several cars honked at you as you traversed through the road, and the brightly colored flags being waved by the marching guards caught your attention. The parade through the Wastes should be starting at any minute. You thought about the large crowd of people and cringed, deciding to take a detour through the alleyways to avoid the insanity of the Spring Festival.

You looked down at the address again, trying to mentally figure out how many more turns you had to take to make it out to the main road again. Some shuffling caught your attention, and you realized you had almost run into a pair of guards.

“Why Hello– It seems like a lovely lady lost her way,” The blond guard commented, leaning in closer than you would have preferred. His friend took notice of you as well, a dangerous smile growing across his face.

“Oh, I'm not lost, so if you'll excuse me–” The brunet guard blocked the other side of the alleyway, slyly leaning against the rifle he held.

“What's the rush, why don’t we take you for a drink first?”

“No thank you.” You tried to be firm, but it felt like you had done nothing more than whisper by how quickly they laughed at your statement.

“I told you, you always end up scaring all the pretty ones.” The blond teased his friend. “I think it's the ugly whiskers you've got growing out of your nose.”

“I think I prefer her more scared than shy.” He purred and he and his friend stepped closer. Your heart was hammering out of your chest and you were ready to turn around and run when a pair of footsteps sounded behind you.

“Sorry I took so long, I was looking everywhere for you, my dear.” A cold hand pressed against the small of your back and a towering figure leaned over your shoulder. “I see you’ve found some new friends…”

“Back off, buddy.” The blond guard challenged, and the brunet puffed up his chest. “We’re busy here.”

“Is that so?” The black haired stranger smiled. “I could've sworn you were both leaving.” With his left hand, he tossed some dust onto their shoes, and to your shock– the guards stood up straight and began marching away from the two of you in unison, exclamations of their surprise going with them.

“What.. what did you do to them?” You stammered, watching the two guards walk out into the parade and then vanished into the crowds.

“They’ll be fine,” He dismissed, and he withdrew his hand— you’d forgotten he was even holding you— and then held his arm out to you. “Where are you headed? I’ll escort you in case they come back.” You glanced at his arm before looking up at his face. He was… certainly handsome. Wispy dark hair floated around him as if he were suspended in water, and we wore an oversized black jacket that could fit the skies within them. Below that was a white poet’s shirt, and a red ruby hung from his neck, somehow glinting in the shadowed alleyway. His jaw was chiseled and his lips were strung into a light smile.

“Oh, uh, thank you. I'm headed to Cesari’s. The new bakery that's downtown?” Your face grew hot as he leaned in closer to whisper into your ear.

“I don’t mean to alarm you but I'm being followed. Just try to act natural.” He didn't entirely back away from you as he started walking, still remaining close enough that you could feel the cold chill of his entire body. Despite your circumstance, you felt pleasantly warmed by his presence.

You gripped his arm just a little tighter when you passed other people in the alleyway that you wouldn't normally expect to see. A creeping feeling of anxiousness arose when a particularly well-dressed couple stopped when you passed them; and suddenly turned around and began following you.

“My apologies, it looks like you’re involved now.” The stranger held your arm closer to his side, suddenly taking off at a much faster pace, attempting to outrun whoever was behind you. As you both darted through the twisting maze of the Waste’s alleyways, you noticed a whole group of people blocking your way out. Bile rose in your throat as they all grinned, and then you noticed a black void where their eyes should have been. “Hold onto me,” Your black-haired savior commanded, and you barely had enough time to react before he jumped into the air, well above the walls that lined the alleyways, and even further above the buildings standing next to them.

You shut your eyes, expecting to plummet back towards the ground for a sickening death. “Johanna is going to kill me for dying.” You thought sadly. But the brutal impact never came. Gentle laughter came from beside you, and a small wave of embarrassment washed around you.

“You can open your eyes, it’s safe up here.” The stranger laughed, and your sheepish emotions transformed in shock as you realized you were floating over the town below. “Now you just straighten your legs, and start walking.” And just as he said, you began walking through the air as though on invisible platforms. He adjusted your grip on your arm to hold both of your hands instead, and he leaned his head over your shoulder. His wispy hair tickled your skin and your face flushed as he leaned against your neck. “You’re perfect at this, my dear.”

You noticed the bustling city below you, they looked like little ants from the height you were walking at. There was a slow descent and the two of you stepped in unison onto the spire of the town hall. You noticed a familiar sign above a quaint building with red shingles.

“Down there,” You motioned with your hand. “That's Cesari’s.” Your savior nodded and pulled back, simply deciding to hold just your left hand as he led you to the balcony. You'd be lying if you said you didn’t miss his closeness already. The thump echoed as you landed, and he held your elbows to steady you as you remember what it felt to be under gravity again. After he was certain you wouldn’t fall, his grip changed back.

“I’ll lead them away from here, just stay put so they don’t follow you.” He still held your hands, and you had a feeling he was not keen on letting go. You both didn’t blink as he leaned just a little closer, and you swore at this proximity, he could hear how fast your heart was beating. You glanced down at his lips, and then back up to meet his gaze; And oh gods how did you just now notice his eyes.

They were a beautiful, deep black, reflecting the light as though they were made out of glass. You felt as if he were gazing into your soul, pinning down all of the characteristics of yourself and laying them for the world to see. A ring of white danced around his iris, and you felt as if he held twin stars within them. Your brain short circuited for just a moment, and only then you realized he was still waiting for you to respond.

“Okay,” You whispered, worried any more words would ruin the trance you both appeared to be stuck in. Barely a moment had passed but it felt like just enough to last you a lifetime, and then maybe another infinite amount of years.

“That's my girl.” He winked and with the flourish of sand, he vanished– so quickly and without a trace it left you wondering if you'd dreamt the whole thing.

-

“Y/n L/n!” A commanding voice shouted across the hall from you as a ball of protective fury ran towards you. A hint of fear shook you as Johanna tumbled into you, grabbing your hands and pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. You went to lean into it, but all too soon the Constantine was gripping your shoulders and staring you down. “Someone just told me you floated down onto the balcony, for the love of anything holy, tell me it isn't true.”

“So I didn’t imagine it then, did I?” You pondered aloud, glancing back out of the window. It was no use, he was gone with the crowds, but your heart behaved as though he were still breathing right next to you. Johanna pinched the bridge of her nose and you looked back at her.

“Johanna!” A friendly male voice called, “You could use my office, if you’d like.” Her shoulders tightened just slightly, You assumed it was to hide her discomfort, and she gave him her best customer service smile.

“No thanks, I should really get back to work.” You both made eye contact again and she just barely managed to not roll her eyes. She grabbed your hand and led you to the basement of the restaurant. Workers were busy lifting heavy boxes and lugging around equipment, but most of them still turned to smile at Johanna. She would always give one back, but it quickly fell away when they looked away.

“You are so lucky to be alive right now, Y/n.” She finally said when they were in a quiet area. “That man was obviously a wizard, and if he was the Sandman--”

“But he was kind, and polite.” You argued absentmindedly. The mysterious man just couldn't leave our mind, and you still felt the ghostly feel of his hands along your back and wrists. A pleasant chill cascaded down your spine. “He rescued me, Johanna.”

“Okay… and if he were the Sandman he would’ve taken your heart and; Oh I don't know, eaten it?!” She rubbed her forehead and pinned you down with a stern gaze. “You have to be more careful, you know, they say even the Corinthian is on the hunt again. I can’t bear to have anything bad happen to you.”

“I'll be okay, besides– the Sandman only takes the hearts of pretty girls, so I don’t have to worry about that.”

“Y/n I swear on our King’s name if I hear you speak like that about yourself again—”

Her rant was cut short when a familiar coworker of Johanna’s peaked her curly-haired head through the doorway.

“Jo? The cakes have finished,” She wore long plastic gloves, and her tan skin was dusted with flour. You also noticed some dessert batter caked into her apron. “And, the patrons miss you, of course. Oh, Hey Y/n!”

You waved at her and Johanna rolled her eyes playfully.

“I'll be there in just a minute, Rach. Try not to lose any customers while I’m gone.” Rachel snorted and leaned against the doorframe.

“It’s a miracle we don’t lose them with your oh-so wonderful customer service. But I guess I’ll manage; I’ll see you around, Y/n.” And she slunk back into the kitchens, out of sight.

Johanna stared where she stood for an extra few minutes when you stood up and dusted off your clothes.

“Alright, I didn’t mean to keep you for so long, I just wanted to say hello.” Johanna looked back at you and sighed deeply. You both walked out through the back door and she stopped you before you could fully take off.

“Y/n, do you really want to spend your life in that dusty hatter’s shop? You could move in with Rachel and I, she loves you– she won’t mind,”

“It was very important to my parents, Jo, you know this. Besides, I’m doing just fine on my own.” You tried to slink your hands out of hers, but her grip was too strong.

“I know, but is it really what you want to do?” You wilted under her gaze and gently pulled your hands out of her grasp. This time she let you. “It’s your life, maybe it’s time you stuck up for yourself and lived it. Or maybe just stuck up for yourself in general.” She added dryly. A flare of embarrassment riled up inside you, but you managed to control it before you started shouting at her.

“I’ll see you around, Jo.” You said shortly, and without even a hug goodbye, you turned your back to her and started walking home.

Her words had genuinely meant a lot, (and hurt a lot more than you would like to admit.) They always did whenever she commented about the life you led. She was your best friend, most of the time you would even consider her your sister. But her concern in your personal matters felt invasive at times, and you just wanted to prove you could handle an adult life on your own.

As you boarded the bus back to the upper side of town, you pondered her words a little more. She always had your best interest in heart, you know this, and a part of you felt horrible for being so short with her. But a small voice still nagged at the back of your mind, one that whispered she needed to mind her own business; that you could handle it. You fiddled with the seams of your sleeve and you continued to think about it all the way back home.

-

A sigh of relief left you as you finally entered the shop, lighting the candles and locking the door. You had just put your jacket and hat up when you heard the door open, and a young man in a light brown jacket entered the store. His dark sunglasses reflected the low firelight, and you wondered why he would need them at this time of night. He glanced around briefly before turning his full attention onto you.

“Excuse me, sir.” You tensed as you turned to face him. “But we are currently closed– our hours are on the sign out front.” You were absolutely certain you locked the door behind you, but waved it off. It had been a long day, you probably just forgot about it on your way in.

“I have to give him credit,” the stranger disregarded your remark, slid his hands into his pockets and examined the many displayed hats. “Dream always managed to surround himself with pretty things.” Your fists clenched at his comment, wondering who he could ever be talking about.

“Pardon, who is Dream?” You questioned him, but he didn't elaborate, just kept smiling. Remembering what Johanna had said, you gathered your courage, and briskly moved past him to open the door.

“Well, I’m sorry sir, but we are closed. So if you’ll please exit the premises, or I will alert the authorities.” His grin sickeningly widened more, and he reached up to take off his sunglasses.

“Standing up to the Corinthian~ Now that takes guts, Ma’am.” Fear crashed against your back in tidal waves and you moved to run out of the shop, but the eyeless zombies from earlier were blocking the way. You turned back, but he was already a hair-length away from you. A scream escaped your mouth as he grabbed your wrist, blunt nails digging into the skin, and the smell of burning flesh wafted through the air until it was the only thing you could smell. With what little courage you had left, you went to stare him in the eye– but whatever air was left in your lungs dissipated as you stared into two more bloody sets of teeth where his eyes should have been.

An agonizing, searing pain flowed throughout your body, and you fell to the floor, convulsing as the dark magic diffused through your bloodstream.

“My regards to the Sandman,” He smiled wide, showing off all six rows of teeth, and then he was gone— locking the door behind him.

-

(Please reblog + like!! It would really mean a lot to me !! <3)

[volarenelcieloinfinito]

Euphoria 2x07 Thoughts

I’ve missed the last 3 weeks because I was in the middle of moving to a new apartment and then the Super Bowl but we back!

Lexi’s about to have her moment in the spotlight and I am so ready!

Love this opening classical music. But I know the shit storm is about to start

Is this a flashback or…

Oh shit those are the doppelgängers so this is the play

Damn Lexi, Rue’s dad’s memorial is your kick off point?

Ah geez are Rue and Jules just going to be sneaking peeks at each other this whole time?

Oh this is definitely gonna be good. Lexi’s always been the observer so she sees more then people realize. She about to spill all the tea! 🐸☕️

Lmao yes Maddie, this play is about all of you.

Even on the phone Lexi and Fezco are fucking adorable!

The fucking 4th wall break! Just like Rue does with us 😂

Suze is so stoked/proud!

Aw Fez wants to look good for Lexi 🥰

Fuck off Custer. Snitch ass bitch.

Lmao where did the drama dept get the budget for this play? That rotating set piece is wild!

Lexi you are a comedic queen! 👸🏻

Yes the audience is loving this! 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

Cassie as Maddie 2.0 is Big Yikes 😬

Lexi noticing Fez isn’t there is hurting me

Ok Lexi crying in the back seat of her dad’s car because she’s scared is also hurting me goddamnit

I love Rue’s little smile. She remembers this moment and isn’t mad about Lexi telling it.

Lexi’s low key right about technology

I’m liking the changes between flashbacks and play scenes

Storm Reid you’re amazing

Suze is so proud of her baby

Rue is so proud of her childhood bff

Oh shit here comes Nate’s part! This is where shits about to pop off isn’t it?!

God Jacob Elordi is so fucking tall

Nate dressing Cassie is weirding me tf out

I’ma say it again, fuck OFF Custer

Oh Ashtray about to end this man’s whole life

Faye wants to tell Fez but she scared

Rue and Fez fucking with Lexi while she’s stoned off her ass if comedic gold 😂

And the Rules peek sneaking continues

You know I wasn’t a big fan of Hunter’s haircut originally but it’s really grown on me

Jesus the longing is just jumping out with them

Damn Leslie telling Rue these home truths is rough but so necessary

“I can’t convince you that your life is important” that just fucking murdered me

Yeah Rue you miss this kinda stuff when you’re high off your ass 85% of the time

Nika is fucking killing it

Lmao the call back to season one 😂

Yes I love getting to see how Lexi feels about Maddie! She was always Cassie’s friend but she cares about Lexi too and I love it!

Oh shit the rest of the reveal confrontation

God sometimes I can’t stand Maddie but she is breaking my heart here

She’s absolutely right too, Cassie is a fucking coward.

Yeah Cassie, you absolutely should feel like shit for what you did to your best friend.

God the self soothing by trying to make herself perfect is just… God this girl has stepped off the edge into the deep end

This Cassie/Nate scene is 🤢🤮

Like really bitch?! You want that animal to fucking control you? This girl has -194749274 self worth

THAT’S NOT LOVE HOLY FUCK

This looks an awful lot like the season one opening with Cal and Jules

OH THAT’S BECAUSE IT IS!

OH WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK?!?!

Yeah that cements it for me. Nate is in love with Jules and is afraid that makes him just like his father who he hates.

I’m not sure if I’m glad Jules got rid of the evidence or wish she’d kept it and put Cal in prison

Is it weird that I kinda like the Samantha/Maddie relationship?

It’s the purple dress isn’t it?

Hahahaha called it!

Lexi and Ethan 😂😂😂

Poor Mick, he’s trying his best!

Ooooh Nate’s about to McFuckin lose it!

Ashtray is a fucking gangster. He about to cut this man to pieces.

Fez hoping Lexi thinks he looks handsome 😭😭😭

God the tension got me stressed

Holding Out for a Hero OMG

Rue’s face 😂

This man is about to SNAP

ETHAN IS EATING!!!!!!!

I am LIVING for Suze’s enjoyment of this play

Lexi you are a Queen for writing this! Holy shit!

The homoeroticism is WILD

The audience is SOLD! Our Life is 100% Certified Fresh

Maddie said it best, “Lexi you’re a fuckin’ G!”

Oop there he goes!

Zendaya’s got the best fucking facial expressions 😂😂😂

See Cassie? He’s a piece of shit. Period.

Oh shit is she about to rage/Hulk out and hop on stage to beat Lexi’s ass?

NO IT CAN’T BE OVER YET

Holy fuck that episode was brilliant! All this is going to come to a head and EXPLODE next week, and I for one am fucking here for it.

[thefirstknife]

Iron Lord Saladin Forge

Season of the Lost dropped some major lore about Saladin and I love every piece of it so I will make a huge post detailing stuff about and what's important.

The lore is on Iron Banner armour which you can see in-game when you go to the armour section. The lore is the same on each class so it doesn't matter which one you read. It's in the order of how armour is set, so helmet -> arm piece -> chest piece -> leg piece -> class item. There's some extras on Iron banner weapons that I'll add as well.

The rest under the cut due to length and also spoilers!

I'll link to the Hunter gear because I'm a dirty Hunter main and I read it from there and that's what I have open because I couldn't remember the names for other two classes, but the lore is the same on all of them. The set is called Iron Forerunner.

We haven't really had any substantial Saladin lore in D2 besides few lore pieces from Chosen and Splicer. Not nearly enough I think, especially since he wasn't properly introduced in D2 at all and it was kinda assumed that everyone would know about him from the Rise of Iron expansion in D1. He had plenty of voice lines, but with no real context. His voice lines in Season of the Chosen were interesting, but also made a lot of people think he's a bad person and a warmongering coward who sat on his butt during the Red War and was then preaching action for action's sake.

The situation is obviously more complex, but I've always said that it's Bungie fault for not explaining more about him prior to his involvement in the Season of the Chosen. Well, now we got some really interesting information at last!

Anyway, helmet first!

Flavour text:

"Some know the legend. We threw ourselves on the blades of tyranny so others may live free." —Lord Saladin

This is referencing the Iron Lords' fight against the Warlords in the Dark Age. Saladin is heavily influenced by his time in the Dark Age. It seems like some really old Guardians never get over the trauma of living through that (Drifter is another example). Side note: this could also be referencing the battle against SIVA since Rasputin is also known as "The Tyrant." It's not fully relevant tho, as Saladin was equally affected by both periods in his life.

This first entry details something we don't really think about when it comes to Guardians: death. It's a temporary thing with them so it doesn't really matter. But Saladin recounts how he remembers his deaths and how each one felt. Despite the fact that he will be brought back, the pain and struggle of dying are very real. There is also the associated trauma of the realisation that you will go through this over and over and over:

He laughed when his Ghost reassembled him. Then, he cried.

It's not something mentioned often, and definitely wasn't a point raised with Saladin. It gives some context to how seriously he takes combat, training and the lives of his fellow Guardians.

Saladin remembers the day he stopped counting deaths. "Something about you is different," Jolder had said, and put her hand on his.

This explains that his worldview of the role of Lightbearers changed the moment he was invited to become an Iron Lord. It's also important to remember that he loved Lady Jolder very much (in whichever way you want to interpret it) and that watching her make the choice to die a final death has had a heavy impact on him.

Saladin remembers all this and more when he looks at the Crow. He feels rage form a hot pit in his belly when Osiris tells him about the young Lightbearer's suffering at the hands of his fellow Guardians. Osiris asks him if he can keep a secret.

"I don't like secrets," Saladin says, and that's the end of it.

Saladin doesn't really say this during Chosen and his interactions with Crow, but it's evident from this that he cares deeply about the young Light who suffered in ways Saladin only remembers people suffering during the Dark Age. It's also important to note that the Osiris he speaks to here is Savathun. Saladin seems to be uniquely unaffected by Savathun's schemes. This will repeat itself again later.

Second, arms piece.

Flavour text:

"Some know the legend. We were forged in the fires of a burning world." —Lord Saladin

Same thing as before. Referencing the post-Collapse Dark Age. The lore tab details a really tragic story of the Iron Lords burying bodies, including the implication of Saladin burying the body of a child. He recalls that these people were victims of Fallen Raiders.

"It's a vicious circle," Efrideet had said as she tied off a funeral shroud with great care. Saladin remembers the bundle being very small. "One day, I'm going to break it."

Saladin remembers how easily the body fit in his arms, how light it felt as he laid it in the grave. He remembers, with shame, pretending not to hear Efrideet's words so he wouldn't need to respond to them.

He remembers not having anything kind to say.

He obviously regrets not having a stronger stance on this in the past. Where Efrideet seems to have always been keen on ending the cycle of violence, he clearly thought differently and is now ashamed of it. This transitions into more about his relation to Crow:

Saladin remembers all this and more whenever the Crow talks back to him. Sometimes, he bites down on the inside of his cheek. Sometimes, he looks up to find his Ghost focused on him with a knowing look.

He doesn't say anything to his Ghost either.

Because Crow was saying things that reminded him of Efrideet. Breaking the cycles of violence, extending a friendly hand, not treating everyone like an enemy. It's evident that this turmoil is still inside of him as someone who spent most of his time fighting for survival, only to be told by those younger than him that there's a way out of that war. It's a very common struggle of people dealing with trauma and specifically PTSD to not be able to imagine and/or live in a world of peace and to outright reject the possibility of peace ever existing. Saladin is very clearly dealing with that and here, we see it from his own POV: despite sometimes being harsh to Crow, there were times when he chose to say nothing because deep down he knows that Crow is right. Accepting that is a long process though.

Third, chest piece.

Flavour text:

"Some know the legend. We rose from the ashes of a dying world to save humanity from itself." —Lord Saladin

Same again, but this is an interesting way to phrase it. He's talking about humanity being a danger to itself, not about any external threat. Ultimately, the Traveler's gift was the first thing that harmed humanity post-Collapse, despite later being the thing that saved it.

This leads into Saladin's thoughts on the Red War, something we've been sorely missing for a very long time.

Saladin remembers losing his connection to the Light. He remembers thinking that the Traveler must have discovered his most secret doubts; the darkest thoughts he shared with no one—not even his Ghost. He remembers the strange sense of relief that had washed over him until his radio crackled to life just moments later.

His deepest secret? Probably that Light is a burden. When he lost the connection to the Light, he specifically thought it had only happened to him and then felt relief. Freedom from the eternal war he has to keep waging. I'm sure he feels incredible shame for thinking it would be better to just lose the Light and die a final death, but alas, he is bound by duty. Especially a Titan's duty.

He stands there thinking about it for a while before finally deciding to embrace that duty. And now we know what he was doing during the Red War:

"Saladin," his Ghost said again, and Saladin remembers moving. He remembers clutching his radio and rallying survivors—those strong enough to make the journey—to the Iron Temple.

It's been abbreviated as him "sitting out" the Red War because he didn't fight. Of course it was strange that the last remaining active Iron Lord did not show up to the City to fight alongside all the others, both Guardians and ordinary humans. That Lord Saladin, someone who endured so many hardships and fought so many battles since the Dark Age, hasn't come to help humanity in its time of greatest need.

But now this hits different. He didn't fight, yes. He couldn't. Losing the Light wasn't just something that made him scared (like all Lightbearers): it was something that made him scared of how he might actually enjoy dying a glorious final death. To end the trauma and the memories of all the horrors he's been through. So instead of throwing himself into a reckless death, he chose to stay in the Iron Temple and protect survivors.

So yeah, he didn't fight, but he did something equally important. The Iron Temple is an extremely well protected fortress that's very difficult to reach and breach, so any survivor he gathered was perfectly safe there until the Red War ended. Sometimes "sitting out" is more noble than fighting.

Saladin remembers all this and more whenever the Crow challenges him on his cowardice during the Red War. He wants to break the young Guardian's back to teach him a lesson about what it's like to feel helpless, but something stops him.

He remembers hearing stories about the Crow's life on the Shore before he arrived at the Tower, and does not raise a hand against him.

The lore entry ends with telling us that Saladin was clearly very agitated about Crow's teasing. But in the end, he remembered what Crow has been through and realised that Crow already knows what it's like to feel helpless. He did not need a reminder and Saladin decided to take the teasing without a response. It truly frames some of those voice lines in a different light, knowing this background.

Fourth, leg piece!

Flavour text:

"Some know the legend. We crossed a burning world with sword in hand, bringing justice and blood." —Lord Saladin

Once more, we are told that Saladin was mostly forged (eheh) through his experience in the Dark Age.

The lore page details a bittersweet memory Saladin has of him with his fellow Iron Lords and friends enjoying some good time over a meal and song.

He remembers Radegast asking him to sing the song taught to them by the people of the blacksmith's village, but agreeing only when Jolder and Perun promised to join in. Their voices rose like wolves in the night and were so raw by morning that none of them could speak.

This is honestly heartbreaking. Saladin being this happy and free to sing and enjoy himself: compared to how he is now. But even with that, he has retained the need to do it again sometimes, if he ever finds people to be comfortable around.

Saladin remembers all this and more when Zavala tells him Amanda has taken the Crow out to drink in the City's streets. He wonders what song they'll sing, if it's anything like the one he's heard everyone humming lately—even though he hasn't tried it himself.

I love how he projects his past joy onto the two young people and wonders if they'll do the same as he did once. Here we also get another hint about Saladin apparently not being affected by Savathun's viral chant. It might be a point relevant in the future.

Finally, class item!

Flavour text:

"Some know the legend. We crushed the Warlords beneath our heel so that they may never rise again." —Lord Saladin

Nothing new here. Just Saladin recounting how hard they went against the Warlords.

The rest is a very poignant lore page that details the relationship between Saladin and Zavala. Zavala studied under Saladin who was his mentor and it's been repeated often that Saladin has retained a "soft spot" for him.

Saladin remembers the first time he met Zavala. He remembers thinking that the Awoken had regal bearing like the stags he once hunted on the Steppes. His shoulders were broad, and his chin held high. When he moved, he did so with the strength and purposeful deliberation of someone with the power to determine his own place in the world.

"You'll never have a son," his Ghost had said, "but it isn't too late for you to take an apprentice."

I love when non-Awoken describe Awoken, there's always something ethereal about it. But I'm mostly putting this part here because of what Saladin's Ghost says.

First, I am incredibly soft for older Guardians adopting younger ones as kids and teaching them. Easily my favourite dynamic ever. Saladin seeing Zavala as a son makes me cry a thousand tears.

And second, is this finally a full confirmation that Guardians cannot bear children? It's kind of a strange place to put it, but it seems to be the implication. It makes sense they wouldn't be able to, but it's also nice to have some direct lore information about it in case it pops up as a question. I'm sorry if this ruins anyone's fics.

Saladin remembers their sparring matches. He remembers how Zavala always got back on his feet, no matter how many times Saladin put him down. He remembers refusing to offer the younger Lightbearer a hand up. Until the day Zavala finally bested him in combat.

He remembers lying flat on his back, left shoulder dislocated and ribs shattered, a strange pressure on his chest that made it difficult to breathe.

"Finish it," Saladin had commanded because that was the way of things. His Ghost would revive him.

Saying nothing, Zavala hauled him to his feet instead.

I love how this is placed at the end, paralleling the beginning of Saladin remembering his deaths and the pain of dying. But instead of "finishing it," Zavala pulls him back up. It's definitely something Saladin hasn't experienced before, especially not before becoming an Iron Lord, when all of his deaths were just gruesome ends to a struggle. Then seconds after, he'd be back up. He took the revival for granted, until Zavala offered him the alternative. Again, an interesting perspective about something we don't usually think about much. I do wonder how Saladin healed afterwards though.

Saladin remembers all this and more when his former apprentice calls him into his office and tells him about the face behind the Crow's mask. Zavala says he knows that Saladin doesn't like secrets; that it's unfair to ask him to keep one of this magnitude, but there will come a time when the Crow needs someone—the way Zavala needed Saladin.

"You never needed anyone," Saladin insists.

Zavala only smiles.

This page ends with the two bonding again. Despite their differences and disagreements, there's mutual respect between the mentor and the apprentice. The father and the son.

And Saladin thinks Zavala never needed him, but that is obviously not true and Zavala tells him so. He also tells him that Crow, and implied Guardians like him, will need the same guidance.

It gives us a full circle back to Saladin's musings about his purpose as a Guardian and Lightbearer. He may have doubted his place in the world before, but seeing as he's still here with us and actively participating and helping; training us through Iron Banner, helping with the Eliksni, refusing to side against the Vanguard despite the difference in opinion, now serving as Zavala's ambassador for the Cabal and easily bonding with someone he would've considered an enemy not long ago...

I think Saladin knows his place. He's one of the strongest Lightbearers and most principled among them. He is not swayed by lies and deceptions, he does not abide by them and speaks plainly. He has deeply rooted beliefs in justice and he will not compromise himself, even if it means conceding his position to make peace with a former enemy when that enemy proves their worth, honesty and good intentions to him.

He is a Guardian.

He is an Iron Lord.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Tedious Joys - Chapter 5 -

- Ao3 link -

It was not a letter that came to the Cloud Recesses in response to his query, but rather Lao Nie’s two sons.

Lan Qiren was made aware of their arrival when Lan Wangji burst into his room at a run, without knocking, and it was such a strange and bizarre occurrence – it was simply unthinkable for Lan Wangji to do such a thing, when his love and respect for the Lan sect rules were equal to Lan Qiren’s own, a special interest they shared and bonded over – that Lan Qiren immediately knew that something must have gone very wrong.

“Nie Huaisang is scared,” he said, his own golden eyes wide and round as the moon, his voice trembling as if this news was the worst thing that could ever happen. Indeed, Lan Qiren could not think of any instances in which he had known Nie Huaisang to suffer the emotion of fear: laziness, impertinence, annoyance, any number of emotions, yes, but never fear. “Shufu…”

“Where is he?” Lan Qiren asked, already rising to his feet – Lan Xichen, with whom he had been having tea, had already leapt up.

“Is Mingjue-xiong here as well?” he asked anxiously. “Is he well?”

Lan Wangji’s eyes filled up with tears and he shook his head furiously, his voice failing him, and Lan Qiren held out a hand to him. Lan Wangji put his smaller hand in his and started tugging him out the door. When he met the Nie boys at the gate, it was already after dinner, late by Lan standards with the sun already mostly set, and Nie Mingjue was unexpectedly wearing one of his winter cloaks; perhaps it was that which deceived Lan Qiren’s eyes, hiding his appearance until they returned with him to his rooms, or else it was simply that he had difficulty believing the evidence of his own vision.

“What happened?” he demanded, his hands gentle but determined on Nie Mingjue’s shoulders as he guided the boy into his well-lit home, forcing him at once to sit when he saw the state of him. Nie Mingjue was a mess: a black eye and a split lip, bruises on his cheek and his collarbone; his fingers were trembling and it was unclear what other injuries there was under his clothing. “Where’s Lao Nie?”

Nie Mingjue flinched when he asked; Nie Huaisang, following in behind him, burst into tears. He, at least, looked more shaken than actually injured: his lips were chapped from what must have been a blisteringly fast flight and there was a bruise at his brow, but one that seemed more like the sort that one would get from knocking into something by accident, rather than a fight gone horribly wrong.

Lan Qiren felt something cold slither up his spine.

“Where’s Lao Nie?” he asked again, suddenly afraid of the answer. “Did you come here by yourselves..?”

Technically permissible, given that Nie Mingjue was probably fifteen, but Lao Nie would never have allowed such a thing – and yet Nie Mingjue nodded dully.

“You need a doctor!” Lan Xichen said, and Nie Mingjue started violently, then reached out and caught Lan Xichen’s wrist before he could go to fetch one.

“Don’t,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t, no. I don’t want anyone to know. I only came here because – because Huaisang –”

“I’m not letting you go back alone!” Nie Huaisang shouted, and his voice was hoarse, too, almost squeaking with the effort needed to speak. “I’m not! You promised you’d stay with me!”

Nie Mingjue averted his eyes.

“Da-ge…!”

Lan Qiren swallowed down his fear. “Xichen, get the medical supplies from my travel bag,” he instructed, interrupting the imminent battle between brothers, and Lan Xichen moved at once. “Wangji, fetch them both some water; Huaisang, you will drink the water before you lose any more of your voice. Mingjue…tell me what happened.”

The story, when it came out, was worse than Lan Qiren could have imagined.

A night-hunt gone wrong, that was with the realm of his expectation – a night-hunt against an especially vicious yao, a wild boar gone mad with the season and having cultivated to great strength, near-human in its cunning and malice but purely bestial in its unending strength. Such things had been the end of many cultivators, no matter how talented or powerful; it would have been something not unlike that which had put an end to the life of the light-hearted Cangse Sanren and her valorous husband.

But the rest of the story…

“Jiwei shattered?” Lan Qiren asked, unable to believe it. “Jiwei? How could that happen?”

“It was Wen Ruohan,” Nie Mingjue said, wiping his streaming eyes. “I could feel it, just before it happened – I felt him. His cultivation. He did something to Jiwei, all those months ago, that stupid party…he patted her a few times, I don’t know what he did. A-die’s been complaining ever since then that something seemed wrong, but he couldn’t quite say what it was so he just disregarded it.”

Lan Qiren swallowed again, his throat abruptly very dry. “That’s an accusation of murder against another sect leader, Mingjue,” he said carefully. “To say such a thing could lead the whole cultivation world into war.”

Nie Mingjue – honest, straightforward Nie Mingjue – looked up at him with red eyes. “But it’s true, Teacher Lan. He did it. I’m sure of it.”

Lan Qiren didn’t doubt him. Nie Mingjue might be young, but he was an exceptional cultivator. He wouldn’t have made a mistake of this type, not with something like this. And given his earnest, serious, and righteous nature, he wouldn’t speak lightly, either – if he said it, it meant he believed it; if he believed it, it was more than likely true.

Wen Ruohan had shattered Jiwei.

Whatever his motives, whether they were political or personal, whether he was avenging some grudge or perhaps just irate that Lao Nie had decided against sharing his bed or what – he had destroyed a spiritual weapon, which would be an abominable move under any circumstances but which was so much worse when the blade and master were so closely connected and intertwined as Lao Nie and Jiwei were.

Had been.

“And – Lao Nie – he…” Lan Qiren’s heart shook in his chest. “Is he…”

“He’s not dead,” Nie Huaisang said, and Lan Qiren’s knees went soft in relief. “But he’s not – he doesn’t act right.”

“Not right?” Lan Xichen asked. He was sitting next to Nie Mingjue, dabbing warm water on the wounds on his face; he clearly would have preferred to summon a doctor at once, and was equally clearly itching to tear off Nie Mingjue’s robes to get at the untended wounds that doubtless lay hidden there. “What do you mean?”

“He keeps asking for her,” Nie Huaisang said. His voice was high-pitched with stress; his hand was clenched around Lan Wangji’s, knuckles white, grip so tight that it must have hurt, although Lan Wangji said nothing to indicate any discomfort, even if he noticed it. “He’s always asking for someone to bring him his saber, asking where Jiwei is – even when we showed him the pieces, he didn’t recognize them. And he doesn’t recognize us, either!”

“What do you mean, he doesn’t recognize you?” Lan Qiren asked, voice sharp. “He doesn’t know who you are?”

“He thinks we’re his enemies,” Nie Huaisang said. “He doesn’t – he doesn’t believe us when we say we’re his children, he thinks we’re other people – calls us names I don’t recognize – he thinks we’re keeping Jiwei from him on purpose, and he gets angry. Teacher Lan, he gets so angry…”

Lan Qiren’s fingernails dug into the flesh of his palms. “Mingjue,” he said, keeping his voice as steady as he could. “Mingjue, A-Jue…how did you get those injuries?”

He’d thought that it was left over from the fight with the boar yao. Nie Mingjue had said he was there, that he’d finished the job after everyone was frozen because of what happened to Jiwei, after Lao Nie had nearly gotten gored with a tusk, and it was plausible.  And yet, Lan Qiren knew too well how fearsome Lao Nie was in the midst of his rage, how violent, how vicious, how callous.

It was rage he would never turn against those he loved. But if he didn’t recognize them –

“Some are from the boar,” Nie Mingjue finally whispered, his head bowed in silent admission that that was not the source of all of his wounds. An admission that some of them had come from Lao Nie’s hand, and oh – that hurt most of all, to think of how Lao Nie would hate what he’d done. Lao Nie despised those who raised their fists to their own kin the most; he called them cowards, pathetic, monsters in human flesh.

He would hate more than any other what he had become at Wen Ruohan’s hands.

“What do the doctors say?” he asked, voice sticking in his throat.

Nie Mingjue’s head lowered still further. “Wait.”

He did not mean – they did not mean – that time would heal this illness.

They meant for him to wait until Lao Nie died.

“I will return with you to the Unclean Realm,” Lan Qiren decided, and Nie Mingjue started crying in abrupt relief.

“I didn’t dare hope – I just needed someone to watch Huaisang,” he said, stuttering over his words, face in his hands as he wept. “A-die said we could always come to you –”

“You’re not leaving me behind,” Nie Huaisang shouted at once, although his face was pale. “Da-ge, he’s my father too -”

“Your cultivation isn’t anywhere near strong enough to stand up to him! You need to be safe, Huaisang –”

“And you don’t? Da-ge! Teacher Lan, tell him!”

Lan Qiren held up a hand, calling for silence. “Huaisang,” he said sternly. “You wish to return because you fear for your brother, which is admirable – ‘be loyal and filial’. Yet remember that you must also extend faith to others. Do you trust me to make sure Mingjue is safe?”

After a moment, Nie Huaisang jerked his head in a nod.

“You will stay here with Xichen and Wangji,” Lan Qiren said. “Mingjue and I will go, and I will do what I can. To the best of my ability, I will not permit him to be harmed.”

Nie Huaisang nodded, comforted, and Lan Wangji solemnly squeezed his hand. They were young and easily deceived; but Lan Xichen, who was older, had not yet lost the look of concern on his face – unlike the younger two, he knew the vast difference in strength between Lao Nie and Lan Qiren.

If Lan Qiren were the more meticulous, the more targeted, then Lao Nie was still the blazing sun in comparison to his dim candle. Lan Qiren had never been permitted to leave the Cloud Recesses in search of adventure, had barely even been allowed to go to night-hunts to try to win fame lest he die and leave the Lan sect with a power vacuum, and even before that, as a child, he had been promising but painfully slow; he had always relied on Lao Nie for matters that called for sheer power. No matter how much Lan Qiren had cultivated through meditation and music and orthodox swordsmanship, enough for a golden core that shone brightly with a clear and pure light, it was nowhere near enough to give him the strength to stop Lao Nie if he was in the midst of a rampage.

Lan Qiren was no match for Lao Nie.

Lan Xichen knew that. Equally so, he knew that Lan Qiren obeyed their Lan sect rules as if they were a heavenly mandate: he would not lie.

To the best of his ability, he would not permit Nie Mingjue to be harmed – even if it cost him his own life.

It very well might.

“What’s your condition? How long do you need to rest before you can fly again?” he asked Nie Mingjue. If he could, Lan Qiren would side with Nie Huaisang and force Nie Mingjue to stay in the Cloud Recesses as well, to heal from wounds both external and internal – he might be as tall as a grown man, but Nie Mingjue was the same age as most of Lan Qiren’s students, most of them less than a year or two into night-hunting and convinced of their own immortality, foolish with confidence and deeply vulnerable beneath that. Nie Mingjue himself was steadier, had been night-hunting for years since Lao Nie had no plausible basis to deny him the right to it, but the hunted, scared look in his tear-reddened eyes showed that he was still just as fragile.

And yet, without him, Lan Qiren would not be allowed into the Unclean Realm.

He knew the protocols of the Qinghe Nie sect like the back of his hand: in such a dire situation they would retreat inside their fortress, bar the doors and refuse guests, wait for the storm to pass. They were brave and exuberant, always willing to rush out to be the first to face down evil, but they were also intensely private, each one of them. When the hurt came from the inside, they would hide the truth of it more thoroughly than they would a treasure.

Lao Nie would not be able to counter-order them – so Nie Mingjue had to be the one.

He’ll be sect leader next if Lao Nie dies, Lan Qiren thought, and felt abruptly sick to his stomach.

The Nie sect valued martial strength much more than the Lan sect, prized their saber spirits above all else, even safety; Nie Mingjue wouldn’t be forced to give up saber training or night-hunting the way Lan Qiren had had to. But the demands of the position of sect leader were relentless, taxing beyond belief, and something would have to give – it would be everything else that would need to be sacrificed.

All of Nie Mingjue’s softness, the hobbies he enjoyed in his spare time, the books he liked to read; his time with friends, his inclination to play, to read, to learn, to do things for pleasure, his ability to act spontaneously without first thinking of what it might mean for his sect. Even the tears that flowed so easily down his face now would become a luxury he could not afford, a weakness he would need to hide away until only a few close friends could see it.

His sect elders would probably want him married off as soon as possible, too, and never mind that he was too young – Nie Huaisang was still young, too young, but he’d never been especially promising, not the way Nie Mingjue was, and the Nie sect elders knew very well how the saber spirit worked, how the most talented were often the earliest to die. Lan Qiren had a letter on his desk from Lao Nie, only a few months old, complaining that they were already pressing for him to find an engagement for his eldest.

If they had their way, they would put Nie Mingjue to stud at once, hoping for at least three strong sons to carry on the family name by the time he died, and in so doing would selfishly sacrifice any hope he might have of finding love…

“I can keep going at once,” Nie Mingjue said, and Lan Qiren leveled him with a stern look. “I can! Teacher Lan, trust me, I know myself. Let me meditate as you get ready; two incense sticks and I’ll be capable of the return journey.”

“Take a shichen,” Lan Qiren instructed, and glared Nie Mingjue into silence when he tried to protest. “The journey to Qinghe is long, and we will need to make stops along the way regardless to recover the strength to continue. Overexerting yourself could damage your cultivation, and that’s the last thing we need right now. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Teacher Lan,” Nie Mingjue said. He was as headstrong as any Nie, but on everything but a matter of principle he generally erred in favor of obedience; a good, filial child. He would need to get rid of that trait, too, if he were to become sect leader…

“It will take that long for me to get matters in place for my departure,” Lan Qiren added, a comfort, and he had the pleasure of seeing Nie Mingjue’s shoulders inch down a little from his ears. “Xichen, go to the kitchens; tell them we require something warm – soup for sure, and preferably a meat dish, if there is any. Do not accept no as an answer.”

Lan Xichen barely took the time to nod before he was out the door. Nie Mingjue was already folding himself down into a sitting pose to meditate, drinking the water Lan Wangji had brought him, and Lan Qiren looked at his second nephew and his best friend’s second son.

“Wangji,” he said, and Lan Wangji looked at him at once, seriousness written into every line of him. “Take Huaisang back to your quarters and keep him there, hidden from notice. As few people as possible should know that he is here at all, and even fewer where he is being kept.”

There was a glimmer of fear in Lan Wangji’s eyes as he absorbed the implications of that – that there were those that might want to take advantage of the crisis to harm the Nie sect, even here in the Cloud Recesses, that Nie Huaisang was the most vulnerable of them all with his weak golden core and no defender by his side, that he could be subject to death or kidnapping or worse – but he nodded deeply, saluted as best as he could without releasing Nie Huaisang’s hand from his own, and tugged Nie Huaisang along with him.

“Da-ge…?” Nie Huaisang asked, twisting to look at Nie Mingjue, who nodded encouragement at him. With a sniff and a swipe of his nose on his sleeve, he finally went, trailing behind Lan Wangji.

Lan Qiren busied himself with the preparations he needed to make – he hated to plan a journey that did not have a set endpoint, but he’d gotten better at it and this was one in which it was clearly necessary. As far as he knew, he might never make it back to the Cloud Recesses, and Wen Ruohan would have struck down two sects in a single blow.

It was, in all truth, pure foolishness for him to go. All the sect elders would advise against it, marshaling any number of citations to the rules and arguments to support them.

Lan Qiren didn’t care.

He could think of dozens of rules to cite as rebuttals, his heart hurting in his chest all the while, but in the end he could only think about how taking the time to argue at all would delay him, how it would extend Lao Nie’s suffering if he dithered and debated instead of acting swiftly. Lan Qiren might die, yes, but he had to try to help. He owed it to Lao Nie to do anything he could.

He owed it to himself.

[runephoenix6769]

Think what CRWBY did this season was ballsy. 

I think a lot of what they've done over the years is ballsy. Like, there's this thing the writers seem to do which is present us with unreliable narrators, for want of a better word, and never quite do what we expect with visual story telling - bare with me on this.

TL:DR.

(It’s something I have been thinking about for a while but wanted to see if it came up again as the narrative progressed as a sort of confirmation.)

Are we possibly seeing the various antagonists through the lens of the people they pertain to most? (If we are, it would explain some of the choices made by CRWBY over the years,)

Examples:

 I'll give a few.

If we take Blake and Adam for instance. 

During v1&2 we are presented Adam through her lens, She is the one to give us our information save for a few lines Adam delivers to Cinder. (we are then left to fill in the gaps ourselves with headcanon etc) 

BUT we are seeing him how a young woman breaking away from terrorist indoctrination sees him, from a young woman who is working through a break up, a young woman who has been groomed into a way of thinking. 

She is deprogramming in a way. 

As Blake's view of herself changes and as she begins to change with the help of loving caring friendships and healthy relationships, her view of him (her lens ) begins to change. 

He chops Yang's arm off and as she sees the true horror of what lies beneath the mask, so do we. He, at this moment, is Blake's biggest/worst nightmare coming home to roost. He looms and haunts her. Then this quite literally happens in v4/v5. She faces him, breaks away from him, steps out from under his manipulations, calls him out on his behaviors. She's no longer an easily manipulated little girl anymore and she can now see clearly who and what he truly is. 

Her lens has shifted and therefore his presentation to us shifts. 

We get to go on this journey with her.

Then there is Weiss. 

In v1/3 Jacques Schnee is Weiss's antagonist but he lingers on the periphery like a shadow, and we are made aware/shown that the Schnee home is maybe not all its cracked up to be. 

In v4 Jacques looms as a large villain for her because that’s exactly how any abused child sees an abusive parent. Large, looming, etc, 

We are actively made hate him via what we are shown. 

He is to Weiss the biggest evil atm. He fills the role of her immediate priority to break away from.

 When she escapes, joins the others, is made aware of what's actually at stake, the bigger picture and the BBE, her father's brand of villainy fades to the back ground as her priorities change. He is in no way forgotten but rather put on the back burner a little while. 

Weiss grows up, over comes his control, gains her agency, stands up to him, arrests him and locks him up to face justice. 

It’s exactly what we've always wanted for Weiss. 

We are shown this, of how Weiss's view of her father changes. (how her lens shifts and we get to go on this journey.) We see him for what he truly is.

He Is nothing in the grand scheme of things, he is a sniveling coward, he is a blip with no real power. 

He dies with no huge fanfare, obliterated as if he never existed, (just like the floating kingdom of ATLAntiS.) He is not so important in the grand scheme of the world facing potential annihilation. An after thought. 

Winter telling us that Weiss is the one choosing to not leave him to perish, whilst she couldn’t care less points to the complexity of how abused children see their parents, and also how Weiss wishes to do the right thing.

What about Cinder and Salem? 

In the earlier volumes Cinder wasn’’t even on the radar of our protagonist’s until the v3 reveal. Afterwards, she was always taken seriously as a threat. As for Salem. again, our main protagonists had no context for her really until v5 with Emerald’s reveal. And that reveal in of itself is telling. We and the protagonists are presented with Salem the way that Emerald personally perceives her.  

She is absolutely terrifying. 

And then we have Penny.

I know a lot of folks are upset over Penny's arc these last two seasons. But maybe after you've had sometime to grieve you can come back and look at it with different eyes.

We know CRWBY like to set out to deliberately make us feel stuff towards a character. Look at Pyrrha, they knew all along what they were gonna do to Pyrrha and they made us love her knowing the impact it would have. They wanted a desired effect and they got it.

They did it again with Penny this season. They craftily lulled us into a false sense of security. 

“Oh Penny can't die, she just got made into a real girl, plot armor will protect her.... Winter in the other hand, oh she gonna die!"

But it was a complete bait and switch!

They used Penny the same way they used Pyrrha, to elicit a desired response.  

This means that we can't wholly rely on the information we get shown half the time or rest on our laurels when it comes to the status of a character’s survival. Just like our protagonist can’t either. 

RWBY thrives on breaking the rules.

Veering off to have a alternate dimension arc at a really pivotal moment? Seems weird, but it's also kinda clever.

It gives time for other chess pieces to get into place, i.e. traveling the world. It gives space for certain characters to explore any feelings or miss givings they might have, with out the pressure of the rest of the cast waiting in the wings twiddling their thumbs. 

Its a good device to change the pace and take a breather. 

And the aftermath...the possibilities are endless.

For all we know, RWBY might come out of that void to find Salem succeeded, or the world has moved on a number of years, or even a waste land n its mad max fury road or maybe its the same sandstorm the refugees are in and time outside the void didn't budge a second and RWBY come out like this.

(I jest!)

Remember CRWBY has always subverted tropes and bounced the narrative off mirrors.

[elfboyeros]

Misako: The Most hated Character in Ninjago

Misako Garmadon! Wife of Garmadon and mother to green ninja Lloyd, but also the most hated character in the Ninjago roster!

Not only because she abandoned her son at Darkely Boarding School for Bad Boys in an effort to discover a way for her evil husband and choose one son not to have a fight to the death. Which seems sound, besides leaving your son at a Boarding School, instead of with his uncle who seems pretty capable of taking care of a child (I’ll get into that in a bit). Although I'll play devil’s advocate for a minute and say it was so Lloyd didn’t think his father was the massive piece shit that everyone could/would make him out to be.

Although in Misako’s debut episode: The Stone Army, Lloyd shows disdain for his mother, because she abandoned him, which is more than fair! Although it only takes him a small little history lesson, goes more in-depth about his own prophecy to forgive her and treat her like a mother for the rest of the series because it makes sense to leave your son at Boarding School instead of HIS OWN UNCLE!

Now we know from Season 5 of the series that Wu is more than capable of taking care of the kid(s) given his experience with Morro. Although let me play devil’s advocate, once again in Misako’s favor, and say that given the fact that Morro later ran away in his pursuit to become the boy in green and went missing/died made Misako apprehensive to Wu take care of a child.

*(I don’t think that would make much sense because she states in her debut episode that she KNEW that Lloyd would be the green ninja before even Wu. The only reason she does not leave Lloyd with him is: her wanting to put off the fulfillment of the prophecy.)

It seems very odd that Misako’s poor parenting is never addressed beyond at most a 5-minute conversation, and quickly dismissed like it didn’t happen is very lacking. I understand this show is for children and trying to explain why her actions of “protection” are bad would possibly be difficult, trying to pass her actions off as if they didn’t happen is another case of bad writing.

Besides her horrible actions as a mother, she had made some other choice actions as a person in general in regards to Wu especially. Misako is established to be Garmadon’s wife, although estranged, and obviously that they (with the confines of a children show) loved each other enough to have a child! Although in the episode The Day Ninjago Stood Still It is implied that Wu has feelings for Misako (and he has since they met) and that Misako may reciprocate as she even states “I should have chosen you,” to Wu they are alone. But once the Overlord is defeated in Season 2 and Garmadon is relinquished of his “evil part,” Misako and Garmadon rebuild their relationship for the two-season good daddy Garm is around. Although the rebuilding is promptly destroyed when it is revealed that Garmadon forged his name on a love letter Wu wrote Misako, making him a bit of a liar and a coward (how Misako was able to get the two sons of God to fall in love in with her in the first place, and I can’t get a simple match a Bumble anymore is fucking beyond me!). And dispute the fact at Garmadon sacrifices himself for the name of all that is holy in the episode The Corridor of Elders, instead of I don’t know morning you husband who loved you despite his fault and attempted to make up for it and showing that he truly cared for his son when he was evil and then even greater father when he was good, Misako is promptly up Wu’s ass the following seasons.

The only parents that we can compare Misako to are Ray and Maya, As Ed and Eda along with Dr. Julien are extremely good parents to their children. Lou’s major fault with Cole was projection and the want Cole to follow in his feet which is resolve in his debut episode The Royal Blacksmiths, letting the two of them have a good relationship, and little is know about Jay birth parent to conclude why they abandoned him, do it was being unwise to try to say that are the extremely horrible people if we don’t have context.

Although we can only really compare Ray and Maya in a broad sense. Technically Ray and Maya did abandon their kids, but they were also coerced and kidnapped into doing so by Krux to make his armor and weapons. Although, because of, I guess, a step in the right direction for the writing of this show. Ray and Maya's abandonment of their children is addressed in the new season of the series where Nya is upset about Maya trying to be motherly towards her. Nya is under the belief that Maya has no right to act this way given the fact that she was not there for Nya's childhood to be the mother that she wants to be now.

The writing fails Misako here, Lloyd is upset about seeing his mother for at most 5 fucking minutes and then treats her as if she is the best parent he ever fucking had. Adding the fact that it seems like She wants to be with at least one of the sons of God and can’t make up her damn mind.

I could understand if Lloyd wanted at least one good relationship with a parent, give the circumstances at the time, but this is never said or addressed, and I understand the meaning of hindsight and Misako telling Wu that she should have chosen him over Garmadon was her having hindsight after the fact. As well as think that if she chooses Wu the events of the series would not have happened, allowing her to raise a son instead of abandoning him. Although where that may fit in the context of that one line, don't think it justifies all of the implied love that both characters share, at that point, it isn't hindsight.

It really is that Misako’s whole is to cause conflict (a complaint made by @hiddensneker ) and to give exposition and despite this and whatever she has tried to do to make up for her actions this doesn’t change the fact that Misako Montgomery Garmadon is one of the most hated characters in Ninjago.

[jawritter]

Miracle On 37th Street

Summary: Time doesn’t heal all wounds, sometimes it just drives them into our bones and festers there, until forgiveness is a four letter word, and it’s to late for second chances. 

Part two of: Merry Christmas Sweetheart

Warnings: Language, fluff, mentions of past heartbreak, multiple viewpoints, I think that’s about everything for this one. It’s pretty much flooff lol. 

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo and also for @deanwanddamons 2k celebration! Congrats again hun!

Square Field: Coming Home For Christmas

Prompte: You had me at hello

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 2802

A/N: This fic was beta’d by the lovely @miss-nerd95! Thanks again love!! Also fun fact. There really is a 37th street they deck out in Austin, Texas every year for Christmas. It’s pretty awesome, look it up. Please don’t copy my work! I hope you all enjoy this one! 

**MASTERLIST**   **BECOME A PATREON**

Jensen’s POV: 

To say that sleep had evaded Jensen was an understatement. All he could think about was you and the hurt in your eyes when you turned away from him for the very last time, and stepped out into the cold. It haunted him. Seeping into his subconscious, and turning into nightmares of blinding snow, and him calling your name, but never being able to find you, you were always just out of reach. 

At around three in the morning he’d given up on sleeping all together and decided it was time to revisit the bottle of perfectly aged Royal Salute he kept for nights just like this. He did note that he’d been seeing this particular friend a lot more since him and Danneel decided it was time to stop fooling themselves and move on to at least try and be happy; but he was way too stressed and heartbroken to worry about his drinking habits right now. 

A quick glance outside his bedroom window told him that there was no way in hell you were flying out to New York before Christmas. It had to be the biggest snow storm Austin had seen in years, and he knew for sure all flights were probably gonna be grounded well after next year began. 

He didn’t know what the hell he expected of you. Why did he think that you'd just fall at his feet after over 10 years of him being a dick and rubbing his marriage directly on your wounds? Fat chance. You were stronger than that, always were stronger than he was. He was a coward when he ran from his feelings all those years ago, and he was still a coward now, hiding three glasses deep in his whiskey and alone. 

He couldn’t let you go back to New York without telling how he really felt for what felt like the millionth time in a row, it would kill him. He had hoped placing the little box on Steve’s door step would be enough. That you’d find it, and maybe you’d see how serious he was. Sitting here without anyone around, now he knew that was just a shot in the dark, so he picked up his phone and tried to call Steve to retrieve it for him, but his phone just went to voicemail. 

That started a whole new set of worries for Jensen. What if you were with Steve? What if you had gone to bed with him? Seeking comfort from a long standing friend that you were never able to get from him?

“Goddammit!” Jensen yelled to the echoing and empty room around him, throwing his phone across the room before running his fingers through his hair harshly, trying to literally pull the cruel images his mind had placed there of you and his best friend together out by the roots. 

He had to go get that ring. If you saw it, it would only make things worse either with you and him or for you and Steve. It was a heartbroken and desperate move that he shouldn’t have made, he should've known better than that. He wasn’t drunk, and it wasn't like anyone would be on the streets in this weather. It was very unlikely for whatever the reason that the two of you were awake still, and it wasn’t like Steve lived that far from him. 

Grabbing his coat and boats Jensen raced to the car through the cold, still steadily falling snow, scrapping the window as quickly as he could, and sliding inside to start the heater so that he could defrost the window enough to back out onto the ice and snow covered road. 

Once he was inside the safety of the car with the heater and defrost going full blast he saw something as he backed out onto the street that made him halt his movements. The small star christmas lights that were hanging on the pole that the town workers placed every year twinkled at him like a small little beacon of hope against the falling snow. It hit him then, the perfect plan to get you talk to him. The time he couldn't mess this up. This was his last chance. Step one was to go get those rings before either Steve or your found them. Then he’d set the rest up in the morning. 

Readers POV: 

“Steve, it’s cold out here. Why the sudden interest in Christmas lights?” you whined at your friend as he pulled you from the warmth of the car, and started to walk down the crowded street through the mass of people heading towards Austin’s main Christmas attraction. The lights on 34th street. 

You couldn’t deny it was beautiful, and something you hadn’t seen in person in a decade or so, but right now you just weren’t in the mood. You’d spent most of last night pissed at Steve for letting Jensen pick you up from the airport when he damn well knew why you left for New York in the first place, and two-seeing hurt you caused in the green eyes you loved as you slammed the car door in his face before going into Steve’s house had not given you the feelings of acceptance, revenge and that you could finally move on that you had hoped for. 

After you had ripped Steve a new one and drank enough alcohol between the two of you to numb you broken and bleeding heart a little, you had decided to just fly home and cancel your interview with the client that had yet to return your calls since you landed in Austin; only to find out that there would be no flights out of any of the local airports until after the New Year. Texas just wasn’t used to this kind of weather, and it had effectively put you home for Christmas for the first time in years, whether you wanted to be here or not.

“Come on, it’s the first year you’ve been actually home for Christmas in over a decade Y/N, it will be fun, you used to love going to look at the Christmas lights on 37th Street.”

You grumbled under your breath as Steve lead you to the little street booth that was set up to sell hot chocolate and cookies, letting him buy you a warm drink to help fight against the bitter cold before leading you to sit down at one of the little tables a little further away from everyone else on the street. 

“Wait here, I’ve got to go to the restroom. I’ll be right back,” he said once you were settled, disappearing before you could argue about being left here alone amongst the bustling crowd of strangers. You glare at his retreating back and curse his bladder before looking down into your steaming cup of hot chocolate, taking a sip of the warm liquid and humming at the hot, sweetness as it hits your taste buds.  

The street was beautiful. There were twinkling lights and decorations everywhere, it looked a little bit like a little piece of the North Pole had dropped itself right down in the middle of Texas. You had forgotten how nice it was this time of year around here. The little shops on full decorated display, and everyone seemed to just about know everyone by name, almost like in the movies that play on those crappy hallmark channels. It was sweet, and even if you were hell bent on avoiding it due to a certain someone, it was still home. This was the first time you’d missed the simpler, slower pace in a long time. You didn’t know if it was the nostalgia in the air or if it was the season itself, but this was the closest you had felt to at home in years. 

“This seat taken?” A deep, smooth baritone voice asked from across the table, and your eyes met the green gaze that had been haunting you like an old ghost of your past all night long, that  wounded look which tugged at your heart strings buried not so deep under the surface of his soft gaze. 

“No,” you answer shortly, afraid to see those pathetic eyes that he’d given you when you left him last night.

Jensen gave you a stiff smile and slid into the seat across the small table. Looking around at the passing people who seemed to all but ignore their local celebrity like seeing him was just another Tuesday for them. 

“It’s beautiful down here this time of year isn’t it?” he asked, eyes shifting over the glittering sparkling decorations that were still hung with a small bit of snow that lingered on them, only making them shine brighter against the night sky. 

“What do you want Jensen,” you asked him, cutting right to the point. “I was pretty sure we said all we had to say to each other yesterday.”

Jensen sat up a little straighter in his seat, and looked down at his hands that were folded on the table in front of him before meeting your gaze again. 

“That’s just it, Y/N,” he said, his voice soft but scared all the same, letting all his emotions be out on full display for you to see. Not hiding anything at all. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it open and honest for the first time in his life, no matter how much that scared him. “You said a lot, and what you said was valid, but sweetheart I still have a lot I need you to hear.”

You swallowed around the lump of nothing in your throat, but didn’t trust your voice to work, so you just stared at him and waited. Not getting a response out of you, Jensen sat up a little straighter and dug around in his pocket, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped box and sliding it across the table at you. 

You stared at it suspiciously before meeting his gaze wearily. 

“You wanted to give me a present?” you ask him a little dumbfounded and he chuckled darkly before sitting back and shoving his hands into his pockets, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“Yeah, you can say that,” he said, guestering for you to open it with a nod of his head. 

Slowly, hesitatingly you picked up the box with shaking hands and began to unwrap it by pulling the little ribbon on top carefully before removing the lid. Inside lay two wedding rings, a broader and bigger one which was definitely for a man and another a gorgeous feminine wedding ring. 

You looked up at him in confusion before taking the small, golden band in your hand and turning it, reflections of the twinkling lights above you making it shine. 

“Jensen, I don’t understand,” you tell him honestly, and this time when you met his gaze there were tears there, burning his eyes a little redder just below the surface that he wouldn’t allow to fall. You swore your heart broke all over again. 

“I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N,” he said, his voice deeper and rougher than you were used to. You just sat there in silence sensing there was a lot more to this story.

“I hurt you. I did you as wrong as I could go, and I’m really sorry. I used you as a safety net, knowing damn good and well what you felt for me, but I was to afraid of the way you made me feel to ever act on what I should have and instead listen to people that didn’t know shit; people that said she’d be a better fit than you for me.”

Realization hit you, along with a flood of tears that seemed to fall of their own free will as you dropped Jensen’s wedding band into the box and sat it down in the middle of the table as if it were on fire. “Jensen I…”

“Baby please let me finish. Then you can tell me to go to hell, or fuck off for good, but let me do this,” he cut you and you bit down hard on your lip as his own tears started to fall down his perfect face. “Before you even say it, no, you were not the reason I left Danneel. She and I were not good for each other, we were both unhappy, and we both deserved to have something better. She didn’t do anything wrong, and neither did I.” 

You nod to show him that you understood, even if your head was reeling like you were drunk . You could just sense he needed the encouragement to keep going, and you saw him breath a small sigh of relief before he continued. 

“I tried to love her, I swear I did, but no matter what I did or how hard I tried it always came back to you. You may not realize it, maybe I hid it too well, but sweetheart you had me at hello. You asked me last night if I missed you at the altar, and through all these years of milestones I shared with someone else, or even when I was with her. Baby girl, you were always my first thought in the morning and the last one I had before I went to sleep at night.” 

Jensen moved his chair a bit closer to you, taking your hand in his and holding your gaze. 

“The night you left I damn near drank myself to death, and I couldn’t even tell Danneel why. She deserves someone who could give her their whole heart. Mine always belonged to you sweetheart. I know I'm asking for a lot, but if you’d let me, I want to try and make up for all these years I’ve wasted. Years I should have given to you. I loved you then, Y/N, and I still do. Now if you can look at me and tell me you feel nothing for me anymore and walk away I wont try and contact you again, but baby please, please let me do now what I should have done all those years ago. I wanna be yours, if you'll have me.”

You stared at him in complete disbelief for a moment as your mind tried to wrap around his confession. You were numb, but this time not from heartbreak, but shock. You never knew. He’d hidden it all so well. You never knew he had feelings for you at all, and now here he was, asking for a chance. Something you had never even let yourself dream that would happen, and all you could do was cry and he made his way to his knees in the cold snow in front of you, tears of his own falling freely down his wretchedly beautiful face. 

“Please sweetheart, I know this is overwhelming. I know it’s a lot to process, but baby, I’m not above begging, not when it comes to you. Say something. I was the client you were supposed to meet. I was trying to get you down here to me so I could ask for another chance with you. I’m putting everything I have on the line for you here, and it’s all for you. Please”

His eyes showed years of hurt that you were all so familiar with, and all you could do was shake your head and say, “okay.” 

It was all he seemed to need, standing to his feet in front of you, he pulled you up to him, lips meeting yours for the very first time in all the years you had known each other. It was deep, and held so much feeling that it knocked you breathless for a moment. When he pulled away from you, Steve was standing next to you two with a smirk on his face and his arms folded across his chest.

“About goddamn time,” he said, smiling at the two of you, you still nestled in Jensen’s strong embrace as snow started to flurry around you again. This time though it didn’t feel quite as cold. 

“He’s got a lot of making up to do,” you tell Steve, looking up to meet Jensen's soft stare. He looked as if a weight had been removed from his shoulders, and you could have sworn he looked years younger standing there in front of you. 

“Baby, I look forward to it, won't let you down now” he told you, brushing his lips against your own once more, sealing a promise of forever, and renewing your faith that miracles did happen, even in the most unexpected place, and even when we think that they never will. 

You just have to keep your eyes, ears and heart open.

Forever Tags: 

@deandreamernp​

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@miraclesoflove​

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@teresa-67​ 

@thoughts-and-funnies​ 

@hearteyes-j2​

@miss-nerd95​ 

@writers-whirlwind​

@peaches007​

Jensen and Dean’s Babe’s

@msmarvelouswinchester​

@akshi8278​

@love-jackles-37-blog​

[carryonmywaywardcaptain]

What’s in a Name?

CarryOnCap’s Masterlist

Pairing: Michael!Dean x reader, Dean x reader 

WC: 2,135

Summary: Weeks after Michael disappeared with Dean as his vessel, you decide to take some time away from the bunker. Nothing could have prepared you for the talk you have (or the tearful goodbye) when he pays you an unexpected visit.

Square Filled: Midnight Snack

Warnings: Season 14 spoilers if you haven’t seen it. Some angst. Sort of sappy fluff. Revelation of feelings and implied mutual pining. Minor mentions of injuries. Kind of a corny, abrupt ending. Also this gif by @teamfreewillbettertogether​​ (I mean LOOK AT HIM.) 

A/N: This is my first submission for #spndeanbingo challenge round 1 hosted by @spndeanbingo​​ Inspired by this 14x01 gif and the end dialogue of 14x09. (I do not claim to own the dialogue from those episodes, I just paraphrased for this fic.) This was supposed to be a drabble but it got away from me. lol

You had just finished a case up north-- nothing big, just a few werewolves preying on teenagers who were exploring the woods on the outskirts of town at night for “something to do.” You had tracked down the last of the pack just in time to save a young girl from becoming an unfortunate midnight snack. After driving her home and observing a tear-filled reunion with her parents, you returned to the motel you’d been staying at.

You were exhausted, covered head to toe in cuts and bruises from the hunt, and you knew you needed some rest. But sleep didn’t come easily these days and, when it did, you often found yourself dreaming of Dean. It kept you up at night knowing he was out there somewhere locked away under Michael’s control, and dreaming about him only seemed to make you miss him more.

It was late, but you decided to venture to the gas station up the street to grab a midnight snack of your own, hoping the cool evening air and a little food might help ease your mind. After cleaning up a little, you slipped out of your room and back into the night.

It had been weeks and there'd still been no sign of Dean or Michael. Sam had been working tirelessly trying to find him, but so far he still hadn’t had any leads. In an effort to help with the search, you packed a bag and set out to connect with some of your old contacts.

...At least that’s what you told Sam.

Truthfully, you had decided to leave because you needed a break from it all. The bunker had begun to feel crowded with all of the new inhabitants from Apocalypse World. Sam, Mary, Cas, and Jack checked on you at all hours of the day because they all seemed to know about the feelings you harbored for Dean. You appreciated their concern, but the lack of alone time and space left you feeling suffocated and on edge.

On top of it all, the bunker somehow also felt eerily empty without your favorite green eyed hunter. Reminders and memories of him seemed to haunt every inch of the place. With how overwhelming everything had become, it was liberating to work a case or two while you took some time to grieve and process everything in peace.

After buying a sandwich, a six pack, and a mini pie, you thanked the cashier and began the short trek back to your motel. Still lost in thought, you had taken a shortcut down an alley when a noise from behind stopped you in your tracks. It was subtle and if you hadn’t recognized it immediately, it might’ve gone unnoticed-- drowned out by the bustle of cars, sirens, and drunken bar-goers still enjoying what was left of their night.

The familiar rustle of angel wings.

Realizing you’d left your angel blade in the duffel bag beside your bed, you tried to remain calm. Cas had no way of knowing where you were and you knew the few angels left in existence were doing all they could to keep heaven running. Grappling with the fear and hope you could feel rising in your chest, you wracked your brain for any other possible explanation for who could be behind you. But even before he spoke, you knew it was him.

“Hello Y/N.”

It wasn’t his voice-- not really. Even so, the sound was oddly comforting after so many weeks without it. If you’d kept your back to him, you might’ve been able to let yourself pretend it really was him. That he had managed to break free from the archangel somehow and track you down.

But it was the way he said your name that let you know who it really was. His voice was hollow. Almost formal. 

One thing you’d always loved about Dean--whether he was angry or worried or teasing--was the way he said your name. There was always so much emotion behind it. Always a trace of the unconditional love he gave to everyone he cared about. When he spoke your name, there was always a deeper implication: no matter what he was feeling or what you had done, you knew he would always protect you and have your back. There was never a need for him to say those things outright, because somehow you’d always understood.

But this wasn’t him and those weren’t the feelings you had when your name rolled off of his tongue. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turned to face the man behind you.

“Michael.” 

The corner of his mouth tilted into a smirk. He wore a gray three piece suit, a long coat, and a newsboy style cap. His head was slightly bowed, casting a dark shadow over his eyes. Instead of the relaxed, bow-legged stance you were accustomed to, his posture was stiff and typical of the angels you’d grown familiar with over the years.

“It’s nice to be able to skip the introductions.”

He raised his head and the motion seemed almost robotic. His jade eyes briefly flashed a bright electric blue and the longer you looked at his emotionless face, the more unsettled you began to feel. Everything about him seemed detached and unnatural-- a stark contrast to the man you knew.

“What do you want?”

“What do I want? It’s a little...ironic.” His lips stretched into a wry grin, but there was still an emptiness behind it. “That’s what I’ve been traveling all around this world asking people. ‘What do you want?’ Their answers are always the same: Peace. Power. Revenge. Love.” 

You exhaled upon hearing the final word--recalling the countless number of fantasies you’d had about Dean confessing something similar to you.

“They say the things they think I expect to hear. Give answers they hope will ensure their survival. It’s all so very...weak. Pathetic. Human. But I will admit free will does keep things marginally interesting...how these ‘wants’ seem to motivate you. To give you a cause to fight for.”

You stood motionless, soaking in every bit of the speech he was delivering. The way he spoke was flat and unhurried. You reminded yourself over and over that it wasn’t him, but as his voice washed over you...the hold he had on you was undeniable.  

He took a few steps forward, hands behind his back as he began circling you like a predator stalking its prey. 

“He’s still in here, you know.” He tapped a finger on his temple when he circled in front of you again. “Resisting me. Squirming and trying to claw his way out. To get back to all of you.”

“Is there a point to this monologue?” Your voice wavered, sounding feeble instead of assertive.

“I can sense how vulnerable you are in my presence because of this pretty face. Haven’t you ever wondered what it is that Dean wants most?” He began slowly pacing back and forth in front of you. “I know his thoughts. His desires. His reasons for fighting. I know all that you’ve been through together...”

“He wants the same thing we all do. To take out as many of you douchebags as we can until--”

“You are what he wants.”

You tried to swallow, but your throat had gone dry.

“...what?”

“Why do you think he said yes to me? Why do all of you sacrifice yourselves for each other? Again and again...and again.” He paused and met your eyes when you didn’t say anything. “For love. For the fear of having to live without each other. For the ‘family business’ or whatever. Now, Sam? Mary? His angel pal and even the nephilim-- sure, he loves them. He would die for them. But you…well, there aren’t words for how devastated he would be if anything ever happened to you.”

“You’re...lying,” you whispered.

“I’m just a messenger, sweetheart.”

He spun on his heel and held his hands out to his sides, chuckling as he shook his head. You wanted to believe everything he was saying, but you had no reason to. Michael had lied to Dean-- why wouldn’t he do the same to you?

“Why are you telling me any of this? Why bother finding me at all?”

“Because his squirming is like an incessant gnat that simply won’t go away. So, as a small attempt to put his floundering to rest, I decided to pay you a visit. To say the things he never could. To put an end to his doubts...the worry and the fear and the anger that keeps him fighting. To show him there’s no need to resist me any longer. Lucifer is dead and all of you survived.”

“So you’re pretending to care about his well-being now?” you scoffed. “That’s your play?” 

“He’s angry with himself for saying ‘yes’--but he wanted to save his brother and the boy. To beat Lucifer and, together, that’s what we did. He’s so worried about his family’s safety but, with my help, you were all spared from Lucifer’s wrath. Now, after everything I’ve told you...do you have any idea what Dean’s greatest fear is? His reason for continuing to resist me?”

As the gears turned and every fiber of your being seemed to have a hunch about what he meant, your mind refused to even consider the possibility. There was no way he could possibly mean--

“You,” Michael sighed impatiently. “You’re the one he’s most attached to. The source of his deepest fear and regret. Because what if something happened to his beloved Y/N? What if he never had the chance to tell you that he loves you? That he’s always been too much of a coward to admit it.”

Feeling like the air had been knocked from your lungs, tears began to well in your eyes at his admission. You weren’t sure if he was telling the truth, but if there was any way to reach him...you had to try.

“Dean? If you can hear me--”

“Dean’s not home right now. He’s served his purpose and his mission is complete. Now it’s time for mine.”

You knew you should ask what he meant, but right now you couldn’t care less about Michael’s mission. Taking a measured step forward, you gazed into his eyes and hoped he could hear you, no matter how deep he was buried.

“I love you too, Dean. More than you could ever know… And no matter what happens, none of this is your fault.”

Michael scoffed at your attempt before suddenly hunching over to stare at the ground. His expression quickly grew irritated and he shook his head as he rolled his shoulders back.

“So...very...pathetic,” he mumbled angrily.

“...Dean?”

He stood abruptly, jaw clenched and nostrils flaring as he closed the distance between the two of you. You watched as he curled his lip in disgust and placed two fingers on your forehead. When his pupils flash blue once again, your body went rigid as a warm energy spread from your head to your toes.

As he withdrew his hand, you breathed heavily and rolled your sleeves up to discover the wounds from your hunt had been healed. You glanced back at him with a puzzled expression and let out a small gasp when you noticed how drastically his demeanor had changed.

Instead of blank, dead eyes, you were met with tender emerald ones. He reached a hand out and lightly traced his fingertips along the edge of your jaw.

“Y/N…”

It was nothing more than a whisper; a silent plea for you to hear everything he didn’t have time to say. When the word escaped his lips, he drew his eyebrows together-- all of the raw emotion Michael had kept locked away painted clearly on his face. 

You understood completely, hearing it all in the way he said your name.

“I know, Dean. We’re gonna find a way to get you back. Just hold on.”

He cupped your cheek and a sad, longing smile graced his lips when you leaned into his touch. Without warning, his eyes flashed blue once more.

In the blink of an eye he was gone. 

Clenching the bag of food and beer in one hand, you wiped away a few stray tears and fished your phone from your pocket. After selecting a number from your favorite contacts, you began jogging toward the motel. The line rang several times before going to voicemail, but you quickly hung up and dialed again. 

Arriving at your room, you unlocked the door and began frantically packing your bag. You huffed in frustration when the call went to voicemail again but, on your third attempt, you finally heard Sam’s groggy voice.

“Hello?”

“Sam? It’s Y/N. So, get this--”

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[jenniferstolzer]

Babylon 5 rewatch Episode 2.22: The Fall of Night

Babylon 5 is at the center of not one but three conflicts as John Sheridan agrees to shelter a wounded Narn cruiser. The Centauri don’t like this. Earth doesn’t like this. The Shadows don’t like this. But Sheridan has a strong moral compass and what he doesn’t like is how much the institutions around him are willing to sacrifice in the name of forging some kind of cursory peace.

Things I liked about The Fall of Nighit

1, Lennier and Vir’s friendship. If you ask me Vir, could be friends with literally anyone. He’s such an understanding soul. Lennier is by nature a little judgey. More closed off. So when they sit down next to each other and discover how much they have in common both of them look at each other like “hello what” and automatically agree to meet again. But even this exchange is done almost like spies meeting and I don’t think we stop to think about that very often. These are the attaches of two ambassadors for two of the most powerful races in the galaxy… they could very well be exchanging state secrets instead of expressing solidarity for their equally frustrating jobs.

2,  The Centauri are apparently willing to put their ships on autopilot and black out from g forces if it means when they come to they’ll be in a better firing position. This seems extremely reckless and VERY Centauri. It is the spacebattle equivalent of the hair. Big. Flashy. Not well thought through.

3, In the wake of the mass driver bombing, Sheridan gives Londo an opportunity to speak and Londo is like “NOPE” and jets before he says something that’s going to get him and his whole race in more trouble than they already are. Garibaldi then reads Londo like a literal book, delivering one of my favorite analyses of the character. Everyone thought Londo was a clown, indulging in opulence, going into debt at the casino, drinking himself to a stupor in public, but Garibaldi was his friend and knows that Londo’s not dumb, he’s actually very smart and his mind moves really fast. His error is in his judgment and priorities and he’s currently in waters he did not expect to tread. He’s scared, and he’s going to keep darting in and out of cover until he feels like he has a handle on things or he gets picked off by a hunter, whichever comes first. Also a very classic JMS line “He’s a pain in the butt, but he’s our pain in the butt.” Hunt for that or similar lines in other JMS stuff, he loves that line.

4, The ache of watching McCarthysim at work is very effective. Zach knows the guys he’s ratting on don’t deserve to be ratted on and even says so. “They’re just fooling around” but we can tell by the level of interest and tone of the Nightwatch captian’s voice that they’re gonna get blackballed. Zach can’t deny that they said what they said, but can tell that ratting them out is the wrong thing to do. In the end he relents with a bunch of qualifications but the Nightwatch doesn’t want qualifications. They want names. Thank you for your service.

5, I love that the guy there to ally with the Centauri is from the Ministry of Peace. So poignant. They’ll get peace all right, by paying off the aggressors.  

6, When the Narn ship was coming under threat by the Centauri warship, Sheridan opened a line to Londo just to spit in his face and hang up. It was amazing. Also during this crisis, Sheridan whips out a law book to smack the Nightwatch guy back in his hole. Sinclair would be proud.

7, Watching B5 come under attack is so emotionally stirring. Even on a rewatch, I don’t want to see it hurt.

8, We have arrived! The scene where Kosh reveals himself. I love that G’Kar is hiding in the plants – like he’s not a huge gecko man who people are going to notice. I also love how plaintiff his voice is, thinking if he speaks on Sheridan’s behalf it’ll help him in the political shitshow he’s currently in. I mean he’s issuing this apology for helping a Narn ship and G’Kar is very very very grateful for that. Also B5 blew up a Centauri warship so he’s pretty grateful for that too, I mean come on… I like that B5 has like a standard subway system in the middle of it and that they let the Puppet Friends ride. I miss the puppet friends. I love that the rotational gravity system means there’s a weightless portion in the center of hydroponics and that we used that to our advantage in this story. Also the vorlons in their native form play on the perception of the lesser races. They are light beings, and humans see them as angels. The rest of the races see them as prophets or gods, but none of these perceptions are perfect. We see wings and white robes and think Angel, but Kosh didn’t appear like a rennaissance painting. He’s got a butterfly look to him, too. The face he wears is a facsimile of a human not an exact human. He’s not perfect, we’re just in awe. Love that.

9 And finally a lot has been said about why Londo doesn’t see anything when Kosh appears. He’s been touched by the Shadows, so he can’t be converted by the Vorlons b/c we’re playing a game of Othello today I guess. Maybe because he doesn’t actually believe in his pantheon of gods so he doesn’t have any deities to witness. Maybe he’s lying because what he saw was his own greed and vanity. The general consensus is the first – that he’s incapable of seeing the light because he’s in the dark. For a fresh take on it, let’s look at the Vorlons through this lens. Kosh said before that if he revealed himself everyone would know him… I take this as being a side effect of being Vorlon. Vorlons are a feeling not an image. Like Magenta. Magenta’s not a real color, it exists on the color wheel because something has to connect red and purple on the color spectrum… but the spectrum of visible light is actually a straight line. The wavelengths for red and purple are far from touching, but our brains can perceive when they’re both present, so Magenta occurs. It’s imaginary, but we see it for real with our eyes. That’s Vorlons. Perhaps Londo saw a shapeless light thing in the sky, perhaps that’s what Vorlons really are… or perhaps they have no visible representation at all until they hit our brains. Our eyeballs behold something, but our brains have to construct it out of pieces. When the rest of the galaxy looked at Kosh they used the color wheel to construct him, but Londo was only given the wavelengths. He saw nothing, because nothing was there to see. I really wish there was another Centauri there to be like “I saw the goddess Li welcoming me to her arms!” and Londo’s over there like “I’m the problem” instead of not really answering that question. Maybe it’s answered in season 3, I don’t know. Did Vir see anyone up there? He must have been on break.

What I like Less about 22

1, So here’s where I’m going to talk about Keffer. I know the origin story…. that he was an unwelcome addition to the cast added per network request, but who the hell is he other than that? I think its remarkable how he slips right out of my head the minute he is off camera. We know he’s a pilot, that he was close to Carlos (whose story/death you may recall I was laughing at in a previous episode because its significance ALSO came out of nowhere), and that he made friends with the GROPOS grunts (who we incidentally learned to care about enough in that one episode that we were sad when they died…. Awkward considering Keffer’s contribution to this episode…) Honestly the most interesting thing about him is that he’s got an old-timey fighter pilot scarf he wears and he believes in ghosts and I bet you all forgot about the ghosts. Honestly, the most interesting thing about Keffer is how he’s a lesson in how not to write an interesting character – and no shade on JMS for that, I know he did it on purpose. Significant things happening to a character does not automatically make them a strong character. Keffer experienced loss, came face to face with the shadows, got in fights… a lot of stuff happened to him, but he was almost always the only named character in those scenes. We cared about the GROPOS because they cared about each other and we responded to that. Keffer was there to play cabbage head and ask questions. He’s not tight with any of our main cast who we’ve had tons more time to grow attached to, and dies for plot reasons without leaving an impact with his loss. Heck, you can see the value of interpersonal relationships on character development in action when the show used a shoehorn to try and force some in in context to Carlos a second and a half before he died. We had him drinking at the bar with command staff suddenly, we had him die as a result of a flight mission Sheridan was part of to make Sheridan feel guilty about it. Everyone was standing around going like “No, Not Ramirez” and if you recall on my previous episode writeup I was LAUGHING at how tortured this sudden human connection was. Keffer could have been made interesting. Follow me on this.

My treatment on how to make Keffer interesting:

Let’s say Keffer was introduced as an old friend of one of our characters – Fraknlin let’s say. He was a friend from the Minbari War days that helped him sneak behind enemy lines. Perhaps he was complicit in the covering up and destruction of Franklin’s notes on Minbari anatomy. As a result, the two hang out in medbay sometimes, talking about old times and comparing the current war to the one they fought together. We learn that Keffer has a fire for justice. Hates bullies. Sees the strong as absolute defenders of the weak and that any stronger race picking on a weaker one is a bigger coward than the unvierse can hold. Then when Carlos gets killed by the ghost he starts researching what it could be. Kosh and Delenn tell him to stay out of it. The audience assumes he’s going to uncover something and bring Franklin and other characters into Delenn and Sheridan’s confidence about the shadows through curiosity and honor, but we’re learning through the episodes that the Shadows are IMMENSELY powerful and have no patience for flies. When he breaks off from his squad to go have a looksee at what he suspects led to his personal friend Carlos’s death, we know this is going to kill him. He ignores the warnings of those who have more awareness and dies to bring back evidence of the Shadows to the station. Sheridan recognizes how Keffer’s curiosity and sense of judgment led to recklessness, something Sheridan himself is prone to. He vows not to let Keffer die in vain, but also states that the proof he got has changed everything… and that Sheridan would have done the same. Killing your men in the name of a mission is never the goal but there’s a line everyone crosses when the safety of the universe is at stake and sometimes things are worth dying for. Franklin walks into medbay, casts a look to the counter where Keffer used to sit all those nights, and turns away.

But that’s not what happen. Keffer’s dead now and I don’t miss him. Glad he emailed the Shadows to ISN five nanoseconds before he died.

Babylon 5 is now the last best hope for victory because sometimes peace is another word for surrender and because secrets have a way of getting out. On to season 3!

[omgrachwrites]

Tell a Tale of You and Me - Chapter Twenty Three

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: You knew that making a bet with Sirius Black was like making a deal with the devil but you just couldn’t help yourself. You had never been a heavenly woman.

Warnings: fluff, angst, major character death

Words: 2380

A/N: Here we are, the last chapter! I would just like to thank everyone who has supported me on this whirlwind of a journey, I hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I have! There will be a sequel probs in a months time about Y/N and Sirius’ daughter which will be another reader insert so I might have to give her a name otherwise there will be loads of Y/N’s running all over the place! Hope you guys enjoy and please let me know if you would like to be tagged in the sequel! I love you all! xxx

Chapter Twenty Three

Sirius sighed out in immense relief as the powerful jet of scalding hot water soothed his aching muscles, he hissed through gritted teeth as the water pounded against his bruised skin. He was exhausted, his eyes ached and they were bloodshot but try as he might, sleep wasn’t coming easily. Sirius had arrived home at about 5am after being on duty all night for The Order of the Phoenix. The Order was a secret society that had been formed by Dumbledore to fight off Voldemort and some people – including Y/N – had given up their usual job to work for The Order.

Sirius had slept for about two hours, drifting in and out of fitful dreams – sleep was much harder to come by these days with everything going on in the world – and he had awoken around 7:30am when Y/N got up with their daughter. He had contented resting his eyes for a few hours but he hadn’t slept. He sighed as he reluctantly shut off the water and got out, wrapping himself in a fluffy towel before he got dressed and padded down the stairs.

He grinned as he admired the Halloween decorations that Y/N had put up to bring some season’s cheer into the house. Halloween had always been Sirius’ favourite time of year but he felt like something big was going to happen this year, he just couldn’t place his finger on it. Y/N smiled up at him as he joined her in the living room – their daughter was happily playing and babbling by herself in the middle of the floor.

Y/N snuggled contently into his chest as he wrapped an arm around her and he kissed the top of her head, “you look exhausted baby. Was it a hard night?” she asked, pulling back to look at him, worry etched into her features.

Sirius smiled as he pressed his lips against her forehead, “nah, it was all fine, just some superficial things. What’s on the agenda for today then?”

“Well, my mum and dad are coming over tonight but until then, nothing,” she laughed, “I mean what can we do when it’s hardly safe to leave our house?” Sirius nodded in reply, his teeth biting into his bottom lip as his mind wandered, “what? What’s the matter?” Y/N asked.

Sirius sighed as he rubbed his hand against his jaw, his eyebrows knitting together, “I don’t know why, maybe it’s because we haven’t heard from Peter in a while and I’m worried about him. But, I’ve got the feeling that something bad is going to happen. I can’t really explain it, it’s just a feeling. When your parents get here I’m going to check on James and Lily.”

Y/N didn’t look at him like he was crazy, instead it looked like she understood and she nodded distractedly as she gazed out of the window, “I know,” she whispered, “I know because I have the same feeling, I’ll go with you.”

Sirius appreciated the offer but he couldn’t worry about Y/N too, he could very well be walking to his death, “no sweetheart, thank you but I can’t worry about you too,” he sighed as he cupped her jaw.

Y/N frowned, a look of hurt flickering across her face that made Sirius’ heart constrict but she nodded all the same, knowing it was useless to argue, “okay but you have to be careful.”

That evening, Sirius kissed his daughter goodbye and Y/N’s fingers clutched at his leather jacket as she kissed him passionately, “come back to me Sirius, promise me. I love you.”

Sirius smiled, hoping it would disguise the fear that he felt, “I will, I promise. I love you too Y/N,” with one last lingering kiss and longing look he took off into the night clenching the wand in his pocket.

As soon as he rounded the corner time seemed to stand still as he heard an awful anguished cry, like some sort of wounded animal and he knew that he was too late, as Sirius approached he saw that it was Hagrid. Hagrid was sobbing with a tiny bundle in his arms. Sirius looked behind Hagrid and saw with sorrow that the Potter’s cottage had been destroyed. So many happy memories and promises of the future were gone, lost forever.

“James and Lily are dead, ‘e killed ‘em,” Hagrid sniffled, looking at Sirius with watery black eyes, “’e couldn’t kill Harry, ‘e couldn’t.”

At Hagrid’s words, Sirius’ knees almost buckled as a terrible sadness washed over him as the breath was stolen from his lungs. His best friends were dead, they couldn’t be, they were only twenty one. He couldn’t imagine why someone would betray him, Peter was the Secret Keeper but it couldn’t be Peter. Peter couldn’t have betrayed them. But, as Sirius looked at the ruined cottage, he knew that Hagrid spoke the truth. Choking on his tears, Sirius held out his arms.

“Give Harry to me Hagrid, I’m his godfather, I can keep him sage,” he looked down at the tiny baby with the split open head and felt an almost overwhelming rush of love for him. He had to protect Harry, with his life if it came to that.

Hagrid however shook his head, “I need to take him to his relatives, Dumbledore’s orders. Harry could still be in danger.”

Panic washed over Sirius, he couldn’t let Dumbledore take him away, “no! He can’t, he,” he trailed off as he choked on a sob. He hated it but he also knew that Dumbledore always got his way, no matter what the cost. But even Sirius had to admit that Harry could still be in danger for Death Eater’s so he couldn’t stay.

“Take my motorbike, it’ll be safer,” Sirius had charmed his motorbike to fly a couple of years back, “can I say goodbye to him?” he sniffled.

Hagrid looked at him warily but he nodded all the same and passed Harry over. Fighting back tears, Sirius looked down at the tiny baby in his arms, the baby who was whimpering and crying, the baby who didn’t know that his parents were dead. He sniffed as he bent down to kiss the top of Harry’s head, whispering into his jet black hair.

“You’re going to be okay Harry, I promise you, and you’re going to grow up to be an amazing wizard. You’re the boy who lived, I love you Harry,” with a heavy heart Sirius passed his godson back to Hagrid, “goodbye Hagrid,” Sirius nodded numbly at him before striding away, anger mixed in with sadness. He was going to find whoever had betrayed them and he was going to make them pay. He was going to kill them.

It was down a dark and crooked alleyway that Sirius cornered a rat – literally – it was the last person that he had expected, someone that he had once called a friend. The coward turned and looked at him with watery beady eyes and he was wheezing heavily, almost like he was in pain. Sirius had never felt so much fury and pain all at once. How could Peter do this? How could Peter be the one who had betrayed them?

Then Sirius saw it, Peter pointed at him with shaking hands and Sirius saw that there was a bloody stump where his first finger had been.

“Lily and James, Sirius! How could you? They were our friends! How could you?” Peter screamed, his face was stark white and he was shaking violently.

Sirius knew what Peter was doing and he held onto his wand that was in his pocket; Peter was trying to get people’s attention. Peter was going to pin this on Sirius, “you can’t blame this on me Peter because this was all you! Tell me why! Tell me why you killed them; your betrayal was their death sentence!” Sirius’ voice was drowned out by the noise of Peter’s screams and shouts. He was going to wake the whole street.

Suddenly, there was a flash so bright and a bang do loud that Sirius had to lose his eyes, when he opened them, Peter was gone and there was a rat scampering down the grid, “no!” Sirius screamed, the only thing that Peter had left behind was his finger. The coward might have faked his own death but Sirius would find him. No matter what corner of the earth that the piece of filth ran to, Sirius would find him.

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

You anxiously bounced your leg as you chewed your nails, glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece, out of the corner of your eye you saw your parents looking worriedly at each other before back at you. They were worried about you and unfortunately, you knew the feeling, you knew the feeling all too well. Sirius had been gone for about 15 minutes, he only went to check on Lily and James, they only lived down the road, he shouldn’t have taken so long. What if something awful had happened to them? Ever since you had woken up this morning, you couldn’t help feeling that something awful was going to happen.

Five more minutes passed and you decided that you couldn’t take it anymore so you jumped up, startling your parents, “he’s been gone for too long, I need to go to him.”

Your mum let out a little whimper as she cupped your cheeks, she looked scared half to death, “you can’t Y/N, because it’s too dangerous. Sirius wouldn’t want you to put yourself in danger.”

“I know, but I have to go to him. I have to see if he’s okay, I love him mum.”

Your mum sighed as she hugged you tight, stroking through your hair, “you’ve always been so brave Y/N,” she bit her lip, “go but be careful. Please be careful, I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

You nodded with a tight smile as worry curdled in your stomach before you ran out of the door into the swirling snow. The wind howled as you walked down James and Lily’s street, it was deathly quiet and your blood ran cold with dread. You hardly noticed the ruined little cottage; instead, your attention was focused on Sirius getting roughly shoved away by three men. Tears sprang to your eyes as you realised that they were Ministry Officials.

“Sirius!” you screamed as you ran towards him, trying not to slip in the snow, the Ministry Officials looked startled as one of them put out an arm to stop you, “let me see him! Where are you taking him?” you sobbed but you knew.

“Y/N!” Sirius looked over his shoulder as he was getting shoved along the road, the tear tracks and despair was visible on his face and it broke your heart, “James and Lily are dead! I didn’t do it; I had nothing to do with it! You have to believe me, Y/N please believe me! No matter what you hear! Harry is safe.”

James and Lily were dead, how could they be dead? It couldn’t be true but you noticed the ruined cottage and Sirius looked so heartbroken that you had to believe it, you believed they were dead. You sniffled as tears ran down your cheeks; you thought that you were all going to be together forever.

“I believe you,” you sobbed, the expression on Sirius’ face made you believe him.

“I love you, always will,” he gave you a tight smile but before you could reply he was gone, the Ministry Officials had apparated with him.

You sobbed as you sank to the ground, your knees getting damp with the snow, your heart too much, you could hardly stand it. You just wanted the pain to go away, “I love you too,” you whimpered, “Sirius!” you shouted, “Sirius,” you cried but you knew that it was no use, he was gone, he had disappeared into the swirling snow.

By the next day, the news was out; Sirius had been sent to Azkaban, convicted of betraying the Potters and for killing Peter, along with numerous other Muggles. The newspaper painted him to be a monster but you knew that it wasn’t true, it couldn’t be true. Sirius would never do anything to hurt James and Lily, or Peter, they were his best friends. There must be some sort of misunderstanding; you believed that he was innocent.

Your parents were amazing, for the first couple of months they had moved themselves into your cottage so they could help out with you and your daughter. They too believed that Sirius was innocent; they saw the expression on your face that night, the night that James and Lily had died. As your daughter grew up, you told your daughter tales of her father, you wouldn’t let her believe that he was guilty of murder. You were going to let her know that he was a hero.

Eleven Years Later

You sighed as the tawny owl flew right in through your kitchen window, dropping the letter on the kitchen counter before flying out of the open window into the warm air. Sniffing, you picked up the letter; this letter just like numerous others had been sent back from Azkaban. Anxiously, you twisted your engagement ring on your finger; you just wanted to let Sirius know that he was going to be okay.

After eleven years it still hurt so much, it hurt that you didn’t have the chance to marry before James and Lily died and it hurt that he couldn’t watch his daughter grow up. All the things he should have been a part of, all those things he had missed.

You heard a squeal coming from upstairs and seconds later you heard the pitter patter of feet on carpet before your daughter ran into the kitchen, waving a letter around, “I got it mum! I got my Hogwarts letter!”

Blinking the tears out of your eyes, you pasted a smile onto your face and you turned around to look at your grinning daughter. She looked so happy, you were glad for this one little bit of good news.

You stroked your fingers through her soft hair, “you’re going to be amazing baby! Your dad would be so proud of you.”

-Fin-

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[dappercritter]

She-Ra for the ask meme! (Maybe a bad time with the final season so close, you can save this until after if you like.)

(Based on this meme.)

Well, did I save this for later or what?

The first character I first fell in love with: Entrapta. Aside from her colour scheme—I do love a good purple girl, to say the least—I adore her for her enthusiastic, inquisitive, compassionate, and rather eccentric personality. Not to mention her design is an absolute joy to watch in action; from the goggles to the prehensile hair, is creative and adorable. She steals every scene she’s in with her loveably manic energy. The fact that she’s a scientist, who specializes in advanced technology no less, makes her an important character in a magic-driven fantasy setting—her design helps her stand out among the more traditional looking princesses, too! The fact that she’s some of the most effectively authentic examples of autistic representation in children’s fiction only enhances her likeability, in addition to the most interesting and sympathetic examples of morally grey characters that I’ve seen. Her wonderful chemistry with the rest of the Horde adds both to her charm, and really helped lighten things up on the villain’s side for the first 2-3 seasons, and her relationship with Hordak… Well, I’ll get to that shortly! 😉

The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: Madame Razz. I figured Razz was going to be a fun mentor character, but I could have never suspected she’d be the best mentor I and Adora could ask for! I’m not familiar with her original counterpart, but whatever they had to work with, I applaud the crew for taking the silliest looking character in the original line-up and turning her into this charming little old lady whose equal parts Yoda and Ghibli grandma. (Or at least that’s how I describe her.) Her design gets special mention, too, for just how dang cute she is! The big glasses, the raggedy dress, big fluffy hair with moths flying around, and her witch broom all come together so well. Out of all Adora’s mentors, she’s the best— having no ulterior motives, agendas, or any manipulative or toxic behaviour laced into her teaching style, offers the best life advice she can to someone who clearly needs it out of kindness. And because she bears a certain resemblance to someone she once knew in a similar position.

The character everyone else loves that I don’t: Catra. Shocking right? Look, I know that she had an awful time growing up in the Fright Zone and by the end of the show she became more well-rounded and likeable. Any grief I have with her is pretty much over done with. Problem is though… it is pretty hard to forget everything she did. Now, I know it’s all in the past and a lot of people haven’t forgotten what she did either, and that some of it has to do with the ugliness of the Catradora vs. Entrapdak dynamic discourse and I don’t want to go into that. I really don’t. But put as simply as possible, she was a toxic friend, especially in regards to Adora (the Season 1 and 2/3 finales in particular) and Entrapta (who she betrayed, left to die after lying about her to her lover/best friend, and the offering the bare minimum of an apology), and escalated a war just to get back at Adora. After she tried to destroy REALITY to get back at her. I’m glad she changed but it still feels like too little too late.

The character I love that everyone else hates: Swift Wind. Sure, he’s a talking horse with a design that can wander a good ways into the uncanny valley, and who tries too hard too hard to be funny, but in spite of that I think he’s got a good heart behind that strange face of his. He does his best to be a good friend to Adora, supporting her both as herself and when she’s She-Ra, as well as doing his best to support Adora’s other friends as well (see “Boy’s Night Out”). Chiefly by trying to make light of Adora’s duties as She-Ra by trying help her find the fun and excitement in it. Of course, he doesn’t just try to keep the energy up, he shows genuine concern for Adora and all her friends, not hesitating to rush to their protection or point out when a situation seems especially dire. (see “Beast Island” and “Failsafe”). But I think my favourite example is from “Hero” where he casually reveals that he regularly checks in on Madame Razz because, as he says, “You gotta check up on old ladies alone in the woods.” What a horse!

The character I used to love but don’t any longer: Glimmer. I used to love her personality and her design. A peppy rebel who lived for adventure and a good friend to Adora and Bow. Even if she had her flaws like her impulsiveness and her stubbornness, she was still pretty likeable. But then she called her mom a coward for acting as a strategist and looking after Bright Moon, which ended up convincing her to sacrifice herself to close the rift at the end of S3. Alright, fair enough, some things can’t be avoided. Then she took over as queen, and I can understand there was A LOT of factors that were in play—namely grief and Double Trouble deliberately playing on her strained friendship with Adora and Bow as part of one of Catra’s plots—but boy howdy, did she start showing a pretty unsavory side what with her increasingly ruthless demeanor, trusting Adora’s abuser (hi Shadow Weaver, be with you in minute) over her, choosing to leave Entrapta in very real peril on Beast Island, and willingly using a weapon she knew could destroy all of Etheria to win a war. Perhaps I wouldn’t have minded as much if season 5 didn’t rush through her apologies and redemption so quickly, but the fact remains that Glimmer’s character took an awfully dark turn that’s not quite going to be so easily forgotten.

The character I would totally smooch: In a dark future where Entrapta never found love with Hordak, for one terrible reason or another, I would totally give her a smooch. I’ve said it before and say it again: Mad scientist princess is best princess! The character I’d want to be like: Bow. In some capacity I’m already like him, namely being super emotional and doing his damnedest to be a good friend even when things are tough, as well as being the voice of reason and a tinkerer (what? Tinkering with artsy stuff counts!). But I’d like to follow his example of being more level-headed, softer, optimistic, but also more assertive as opposed to my impulsive, harsher, cynical, and reserved current self.

The character I’d slap: Shadow Weaver. Need I explain? No, and anyway I can’t slap her anyways because she pulled the most manipulative heroic sacrifice I’ve ever seen. Dammit it, Shadow Weaver! (I really wanted to say Horde Prime but I feel like he wasn’t developed quite enough to be as hateable as he could be. Not to say that he isn’t an absolute piece of trash who deserved what he had coming already, but we didn’t get to spend three whole seasons getting to know the depths of his manipulative depravity while simultaneously weaseling his way into a twisted version of a redemption arc, unlike someone else I just talked about.)

A pairing that I love: Entrapdak. In case, it wasn’t already obvious. To summarize, in spite of all the drama that surrounds them and their actions, they honestly have the sweetest, most affectionate, and quite possibly the most healthy and engaging pair of the entire show (next to Spinnerella and Netossa, of course). Shoot, if it weren’t for these two and my hopes to see them reunite again, I would have left the fandom entirely at this point! (No seriously, I’m getting tired, folks.)

A pairing that I despise: Hordak X Horde Prime, but I think that’s the point, since most people use it to explore toxic relationships from a distance. Anyways, I really do not want to talk about abusive alien selfcest.

[its-a-branwen-thing]

“We Can Kill The Man Who Put Us Here...”

[Hey! it’s my first discussion of RWBY season 2020 and guess what? It’s totally about Qrow and Ironwood and Robyn, who’d have thunk it?] Also I promise it isn’t that long...

I know we’re being lead to believe that Qrow is talking about Ironwood here, and I totally think that may well be the case BUT I also think there might be a bit more at play in the narrative than what we’re seeing. The scene transitions directly to an image of Ironwood after this and it seems the most obvious target of this anger is definitely Ironwood. These two have been set up for a fight since V3, and I think that confrontation is a long time coming but--and this is important--Robyn says something earlier that makes me think the threat of murder might be a red herring of sorts.

“He didn’t kill anybody.”

Because Qrow clearly blames himself for Clover’s death and I think they’re going with “everyone will believe he’s a murderer” as his new scarlet letter. If we have, once again, Qrow believing that he’s this awful person that got someone murdered, having him throw himself down the path of revenge seems more tragic than redeeming, even if his opponent is a despot who we’d very much like to see thrown from his perch. The thing about terrible people is that getting rid of them sometimes involves good people having to resort to terrible things, but it’d still be tough to watch Qrow pull that particular trigger. 

And yet there’s something that got me stewing after I thought of all of this and it has everything to do with a past fake-out in V3:

I don’t think this scene will necessarily repeat itself, although that’d be a cool callback, but I do think it planted some seeds in my brain for what would happen if the writers decide to take that track. Ironwood mistook Qrow here for coming after him but, really, Qrow knew Ironwood didn’t call the attack, and he knew the grimm were a bigger threat. He didn’t say anything because he’s just that kind of ass he probably didn’t think he needed to. Now, obviously, things have changed, but not enough for me to think Qrow is going to straight up murder Ironwood like the general did with the councilman. I predict this going one of three ways:

1. Qrow actually landing the blow this time. No fakeout, full fight. Oof. outcome TBD, cool fight song, lots of yelling

2. Ironwood being the one to defend the team when they think he will attack them as a last showcasing of his humanity before he ultimately perishes ala Ozpin’s V6 nugget about Lionheart being remembered for who he was leading up to his fall rather than his fall itself. But...I think that’s too kind.

3. A repeat fake-out of the same kind--all season we’re built up to think Qrow has it out for Ironwood, perhaps even cheering him on as the pieces fall into place, only for him to focus on a greater threat at the last minute and show little care for getting revenge on Ironwood. In fact, forgoing it totally in order to focus on their single greatest threat: Salem (or he’ll finally 1v1 Tyrian, not to the death though, because reasons I have stated and also I hate/love Tyrian and don’t want him to die yet). This is my favorite little theory.

Because instead of being responsible for passing judgement on Ironwood himself Qrow will instead, at the end of the season, offer him up for his due process punishment to those who now hold the people’s loyalty--Robyn and the Happy Huntresses. And that punishment might not be death. It might be mercy.

Not dissimilar to a reverse Tin Man, just as we saw with Lionheart’s fate to die as a coward, the great general would be frozen in place, ensconced likely metaphorically but maybe also physically, in his own rusting morals, unable to do anything as the world and his people move on without him. A chess piece taken off the board.

Ironwood’s fate could be death, but he could also very well be left alive knowing what he has done, the good and the horrible, so that his reputation never has a chance to become legend. He’ll never be a martyr like he seems to want so desperately to be, likely because he thinks it will help remediate some of his bad choices. By living he doesn’t get the chance to die in glory and his actions gain less nuance; the last few decisions will be a burden he has to bear. For the rest of his life.

[ellewritesathing]

Infernal  - VI

Summary: In your sleepy little town of Greendale, nothing ever slept for long. And ever since October, everything felt like it was waking up. Everything except for you, that is. One teensy trip to Hell (and an infuriatingly cute guy) later and suddenly you felt wide awake.

Word-count: 3.7k+

Masterlist Prev. | Part 6

A/N: so i just wanted to thank you guys for the support you’ve given Infernal!! it really makes my day to see you reading and getting feedback is just 💓💓 anyway this is the last part for this series until the next season comes out, but i have a few caliban wips. should i start posting those and tagging you in them?? thanks again and i hope you like this!!

Light streamed through the blinds when you woke up, landing softly on your covers and gently covering Caliban’s face. He’d never looked so calm when he was awake; always putting on a show, whether it was for you and your friends or for the courts of hell. Look at me, his face screamed when he was awake, I don’t care. I am in control.

Now it was silent. Dreamy. 

You reached out a slow hand and moved some blonde curls out his face, letting it rest on his chest when you were done. Smiling to yourself, you thought about how absolutely mundane this morning was. Nothing to do, nowhere to be. You wouldn’t change a thing. 

“I have the strangest sensation of being watched,” Caliban murmured as he stretched out next to you. His arms extended overhead and you watched how Harvey’s too-short hoodie crept up to his elbows. When you looked at his face, it featured a barely contained teasing grin. 

“Well, we’ll have to get that sorted out right away,” you said as Caliban rolled his eyes and propped himself up on an elbow to face you. Your hand moved from his chest to the side of his neck, thumb tracing his jaw. “Tell me, sir, what did the perpetrator look like?” 

“Beautiful.” 

He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, careful not to crash into you or get too tangled up as your hands rose to the sides of his face. His laugh tickled your face. It made your heart beat a mile a minute. 

You pulled away ever so slightly to look in his eyes. Breath caught in your throat as you asked, “Don’t go back to Hell.” 

Now his face said he was confused, something that he didn’t feel very often. Caliban sighed and rolled back to his side of the bed, slipping through your fingers to stare up at the ceiling with a half-open fist resting on his forehead. 

“I just mean-” you slid closer, getting up to your forearm to face him. You lifted your hand to his chest but your palm hung millimeters above it. Unsure fingers tapped at the air. “For one day, stay here. Sabrina won the challenges, right? So there’s no real rush and I- I could show you what it’s like to be human for a day. And you could-” 

Caliban took his fist off his forehead and wrapped his hand around yours, holding it to his chest as he took a breath. His eyes moved from the ceiling to you. Your heart stopped. “I’m not going outside looking like this.” 

“Deal. There’s a Target like ten minutes away and you can pick out whatever you want,” you said. Before he could argue, you turned and started climbing out of bed. “What do you want for breakfast?” 

Caliban looked at you with equal parts amusement and bewilderment before shaking his head and moving to his feet. “Surprise me.” 

You reached out a hand to lead him to the kitchen, but stood still in front of the door, shoulders tense as you turned to face Caliban. “I should warn you,” you said, looking at the spot between his eyebrows. Apparently, people couldn’t tell you weren’t making eye contact if you looked there. “My dad can be a little … much. Lilith said he has something like the cunning, but I think it’s more like early-onset dementia. He means well, he just- he gets a little confused.” 

Caliban’s jaw clenched as you spoke and you watched him make a conscious effort to relax it. In the most controlled voice you’d heard, he asked, “And does he hurt you when he gets confused?” 

You couldn’t even look at the spot between his eyebrows. Coward. “He doesn’t mean to. He just-” 

“That night you had a bruise on your arm, that was him?” 

“You remember that?” 

There was something fiery in him when you looked at Caliban again, slithering just below the surface. You cupped his face and drew his eyes off the door and back to you. His skin was hot to the touch. 

“He needs help. You can’t hurt him,” you said. He was going to say something biting so you talked over him. “Please, just for today, let it go.” 

Silence. His jaw clenched. 

One. 

If looks could kill, your door would be nothing but a pile of splinters and you would be dust. 

Two. 

“Just for today,” he conceded.

You held up a pinky and all that anger faded into amusement. He even laughed when you picked up his hand and forcibly intertwined his pinky with your own. 

“This means that I get to keep your pinky in a jar if you break your promise,” you said, sounding far too serious for someone making a pinky promise before nine o’clock in the morning. 

“Is that another promise?” Caliban asked, leaning down slightly. 

Still, after everything that had happened, the action made you nervous. In a (probably failed) effort to seem cool and unaffected, you dropped his hand and turned to open the door. As soon as you did, the smell of pancakes hit you in the face like a ton of bricks. Your dad was awake, and he probably wouldn’t remember the past few days. Would that make this easier or harder to explain? 

Too busy thinking to come up with clever and endearing things to tell Caliban about your house as you wandered your way to the kitchen, the two of you walked in silence while you absentmindedly gripped his hand. 

‘Silence’ wasn’t really the best word to describe it because, although neither of you were talking, the house was filled up by your dad’s music. When you got closer, you could even hear him singing along as he flipped pancakes. 

“Dad?” you asked hesitantly as you rounded the corner to the kitchen. The batter sizzled uncertainly as he looked up at you. All of the carefree happiness drained from his face when his eyes landed on Caliban. “Dad, this is-”

“That a monster should be such a natural.” His voice wasn’t quite as venomous as the last time you heard him speak, but it was icy. “Caliban, son of the witch-hag Sycorax. Native son of the-” 

“Dad, no.” You let go of Caliban’s hand to take a step closer, putting one hand on your dad’s and using the other to try and pry the angry spatula from his hand. “Caliban is a friend. He-” 

“O, it is monstrous, monstrous: Methought the billows spoke and told me of it-” Your dad broke eye-contact with Caliban to stare holes in your soul. He whispered to you like a child trapped in a horror movie, “The winds did sing it to me, and the thunder - that deep and dreadful organ-pipe-”

“Dad-” 

“Be not afeard. This isle is full of noises,” Caliban said. His voice was almost as gentle as it was when he showed you how to conjure light, and he walked closer very slowly and carefully. “Sounds and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices that, if I then had waked after long sleep-” He held out his hand, palm up, like someone would to frightened animal “-Will make me sleep again; and then, in dreaming, the clouds methought would open and show riches ready to drop upon me, that when I waked I cried to dream again.”

Your dad blinked once, twice. He looked at you. He looked at Caliban. He looked at Caliban’s hand. 

“Oh, crap, that one’s burnt!” He jumped out of your grip to shut off the stove and scrape out the burnt batter before something caught alight. 

Caliban held onto your shoulders in an effort to comfort you as you stared at your dad. No matter how often it happened, you still couldn’t understand what made him like this. One second he was making pancakes, the next he was cursing you in Elizabethan tongue, and then he was making pancakes again. 

“So let me guess,” your dad said with a wry smile as he turned back to the two of you, pan successfully scraped clean. “Long lost cousin of Sabrina’s-” he pointed the spatula harmlessly at Caliban and continued to the stove “-And you’re working on a … History project? Fell asleep at the desk?” 

“You’ve always been a good guesser,” you said through gritted teeth. 

Your dad laughed as he poured the next lot of batter in the pan. “Chin up, Y/N, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. There’s some pancakes over there and the syrup’s in the fridge.” He smiled over your head at Caliban. “Help yourselves.” 

“Thank you,” Caliban said with a thin smile. 

--- 

You sat in the car for five minutes, tinkering with the seat and mirror settings while Caliban sat politely in the passenger seat. Never did you imagine using the words ‘Caliban’ and ‘polite’ in a sentence without the words ‘is not’ sandwiched between them, but a lot of things had changed since then. Sighing, you sank back into your seat and looked over. 

Polite, amused. 

“Okay, you need to put your seatbelt on before we start moving,” you said. Caliban arched an eyebrow at you. “I’m being serious. Belt on or you can stay in Harvey’s old clothes the whole day.”

“Are you that bad of a driver or did you forget that I’m nigh-indestructible?” Caliban asked, making you roll your eyes. 

“Wanna find out exactly how indestructible you are?” you asked, leaning over the armrest and getting distractingly close to him. 

Caliban’s eyes dropped to your mouth. “Do you want to try?” 

“Nope!” 

You yanked the seatbelt forward and kept it with you as you flipped back into your side of the car, clicking it into the socket when you could breathe again. You shot him a grin and he shot you a glare. Oh well.

Switching on the engine, you tried to string together a coherent thought. “So this car is old - older than me, probably older than you - so she’s a little sensitive. She’s also a piece of crap who’s been stuck on the same cassette since I learned to talk,” you told him as you rolled out of the driveway. “The air con’s busted. There’s a spring sticking out of the backseat. Is that a cloud? We can only turn right if it starts raining.” 

Caliban let out a laugh next to you, craning his head to try and spot the cloud. “Why don’t you just get another car?” 

“Because she’s part of the family.” You smacked the dashboard twice. “Aren’t you, Sugar?” 

The speakers started blasting Tiffany’s I Think We’re Alone Now in response and it was the first time you’d ever seen Caliban look truly startled, even if it was just in your peripheral vision. It made you smile the whole way to Target. 

Despite your worries, finding Caliban something to wear was pretty easy, even if you had to coerce him into picking out a jacket. It didn’t take long for something to burst your bubble though: you heard Harvey laughing somewhere nearby. 

“Shit,” you whispered, grabbing Caliban’s arm. You pointed over some shelves to where Harvey and Theo were looking at graphic socks. “Shit. Scatter!” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Scatter! I-” You shoved the clothes into Caliban’s arms. “Go try these on. Don’t come out until I come to find you.” 

“Don’t you think this is a bit of an over-” 

“No!”

You pushed him back towards the changing rooms and got ready to confront Harvey and Theo when Caliban’s hand caught your wrist and pulled you back with him. You didn’t argue until he latched the door. 

“Don’t know how to get dressed by yourself?” you asked in a low voice. 

“If I said yes, would you show me?” Caliban asked, lifting the corners of his mouth. He sighed before lifting Harvey’s old sweatshirt over his head. “I didn’t think you wanted to explain all this to your friends. Hence the - uh, what was the word you used - scattering?” 

You bit your cheek as you weighed your options. Deciding it would be easier to think without looking at Caliban’s chest, you handed him a shirt. You focused on Caliban’s hands as he buttoned up the shirt, long and dainty-looking as he worked his way up the fabric slowly. 

And then there weren’t any buttons left, just Caliban watching you watching him. It made your heart stop. Again. 

“Right, all done?” you asked, moving your things so you could stand up. You became intimately aware of how small these changing rooms were. 

“Unless you want to stay for the pants part?” Caliban asked. 

“I think I’ll take my chances with Harvey and Theo, thanks,” you said and carefully stepped around him to get to the door.

While Caliban was busy, you did some impulse buying and tried to catch your breath. Thankfully, Harvey and Theo seemed to have left. The whole situation left you feeling conflicted; all you wanted was to tell them about Lilith and Caliban but you were scared that they wouldn’t understand. 

When Sabrina finally told you all about her being a witch … to say it didn’t go over well was an understatement. When you finally told them, would it go over any better?

After getting Caliban something to wear and something to eat, you took him to a parking lot of a long-abandoned strip mall. Still debating whether this was a good idea or not, you took a breath and turned in your seat to face him. 

“Don’t make me regret this,” you said carefully, resting your hands on the gearshift. “Do you want to learn to drive?” 

“That depends. Am I going to learn in this car?” 

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the front, the beginning of a biting comment coming out of your mouth before Caliban laughed and leaned over, placing his hands over yours on the ignition. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said, stifling the rest of his laughter. “I’d be honored if you’d teach me to drive.” You didn’t say anything. He leaned in closer. “In this car.”

You turned your head to look at him, underestimating just how much he leaned in. Almost nose to nose, you said, “Say please.” 

“Please?” 

“Like you mean it.” 

A smile sparked on his lips. “Would you, please, teach me how to drive?” 

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” you said dryly, unlocking the doors and stepping out while Caliban shook his head and did the same. 

Teaching Caliban was just as infuriating as you expected; he sped up when you said he couldn’t, he rode out the clutch, but - worst of all - he didn’t appreciate the background noise of the broken mixtape. Round and round the old parking lot he went, muttering swears and curses all the while. 

“Okay- okay, babe, you need to stop.” You put your hand on the gearshift, over his tight white knuckles. He let out a heated breath as he shut the car off. “You’re sticking the shift from second to third. Sugar’s old, remember? You need to be more gentle.” 

“I’m being plenty gentle.” 

“You’re definitely being plenty something,” you said. He didn’t appreciate the joke. “Take a breath. Let’s try again.” 

Caliban didn’t say anything as he started the car up again, but he did everything you told him when you told him to do it. With your hand guiding him, he didn’t stall for the first time in over an hour and he only swore once (at a pigeon, but in his defense it really was stopped in the middle of nowhere). 

Finally, Caliban parked the car squarely in the middle of four spots and turned to face you, much like you had some time ago but without propping up any legs. “We’ve been doing human things the whole day,” he said. “I’d like to add something to the itinerary.” 

“Oh, would you now?”

“Do you trust me to take you there?” Caliban asked, ignoring your teasing. 

“You mean, like, letting you drive on the road?” you asked. “Where the other people drive?” 

“Unless you’d like to teleport there,” Caliban offered. 

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Okay, you can drive but you have to listen to me exactly like you did just now. Deal?” 

“Deal.” 

Bad music blared over the speakers as Caliban drove, windows down, to his mystery location. You pretended not to notice whenever he damn near stalled the car, he pretended not to notice whenever you messed up the words to the music, and you both pretended not to notice how right it felt to have your hands intertwined. 

It was absolutely mundane. A drive for over-eager teens with nothing better to do. You wouldn’t miss it for the world. 

Caliban turned down a gravelly road that you were sure led to private property, but you didn’t mention it. He seemed very sure of himself in your piece of crap car. Even as he rolled to a stop and the car wheezed its way to sleep, he looked like he was made for this moment. 

“So is the part where you make me dig my own grave?” you asked, moving to face him and lifting your hand from his to the side of his neck. “Because you should know that I’d rather kill myself than do manual labor.” 

Caliban let out a laugh as he mirrored your movements, except his hand lifted to his mouth, thumb running across his lower lip. “No, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for a while longer, love.” 

You weren’t entirely sure how to answer that one, so you took a breath and looked down at the gearshift. “So what exactly is the plan?” 

“Swimming,” Caliban answered. He unbuckled his seatbelt before you could ask more questions - of which you had plenty - and got out of the car. 

You had to rush to keep up, slowing your jog once you could grab his hand. “Woah, slow down. Swimming? In a Greendale Lake?” 

“Is that a problem?” 

“Uh, yeah. For starters, it’s January.” 

“I can cast a spell to keep you warm.” 

“You got a spell to protect me from Hep A?” 

Instead of answering, Caliban rolled his eyes and lifted his hand, palm up, in front of you. He nodded to it when you didn’t answer him. “Do you trust me?” 

You bit the inside of your cheek as you looked at his hand. Not everything had to be a show of how tough you were, and you got the feeling that Caliban already knew how tough that was. You put your hand in his, trying your best to memorize the changes in his face when you did. 

The two of you walked in silence, joined at the fingertips, until Caliban slowed down at the mouth of a cave and you made a disapproving noise. You held up your other hand when he looked at you, to show that you were trusting and not criticizing. At least not externally.

The cave wasn’t anything like the one you’d found Medusa in, nor was it like any of the ones you and Harvey played around when you were kids. It was smooth and dark, with air far less musty than you expected. Water was running somewhere and Caliban led you to the spot where it ended. A small, pitch dark rock pool. 

Then Caliban let go of your hand and started taking off his brand new shirt.

“Okay, what are you doing now?” you asked. 

“Swimming,” Caliban said without any hesitation. “Do you not remember?” 

“I-” You broke off. He said you were going swimming, did you think he just magically had a swimsuit in your size hiding out in this cave? You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m not taking off my underwear.” 

“It’s going to an awfully uncomfortable drive home,” Caliban said with a devilish smile as he threw the shirt at you. “But whatever you prefer.” 

You stood awkwardly as he finished undressing and slid into the pool. He was considerate enough to turn around after your first complaint and then you begrudgingly took off your layers. At least it was dark enough in here that he couldn’t see you blush. 

Dipping in your toes, you pulled away with a tiny shriek. “It’s fucking freezing!” 

Caliban laughed as he waded around to look up at you. It was unnerving, though he didn’t mean it to be. “It’s going to be cold for the first few seconds. Diving headfirst is the best way to do it.” 

“Yeah, if what you’re trying to do is get a concussion.” 

“Just get in,” Caliban said slowly, “And it’ll get better after that. I’ll warm you up if it doesn’t.” 

“No way in Hell. And I mean that with a capital H,” you said, refolding your arms over your chest. “The only way I’m getting in there is if you drag me.” 

Caliban’s head tilted to the side for a second before straightening up as he waded closer to you. When he was right in front of you, the water only came up to his naval, but he gestured for you to lower down to him like he was telling you a secret. In a dangerously low voice, he asked, “What was that again?” 

You blinked back your surprise. “Uh, what was what? That I’m only getting in here if you- Don’t you dare!” 

Before you could run away, Caliban had scooped you up and twirled you into the icy water. But you couldn’t focus on the cold when everything that he touched was on fire. And when the screaming and splashing and laughing died down, it was just you and Caliban alone in the dark. Nose to nose. Holding your arms to his chest. Too afraid to breathe and mess up the moment. 

Your heart was trying to break out your ribcage. 

“I think you were right,” you whispered. “Diving in headfirst is the best way to do it.”

Caliban’s heart was slow and steady, but you could swear it skipped a beat right there.

“You’re sure about that?” he said softly. 

“Without a doubt.”

Tag List:  @caliban-is-my-girl  @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e​  @music-movies  @miss--moose​  @marrypuffsstuff​  @harryscarolinaa​  @igorsbby​  @foji2000​  @mschfavngz​  @artaxerxesthegreat​  @thxmagic​  @luquincy  @strawberriesandknives​  @xealia​  @hotmessindisguise​  @olivia-west-allen  @sweetrogers​  @reheated-coffee​  @shelby-x​  @perseny-blog​  @millie-753​  @luneerius​  @shizzybarnaclee​

[invisibleinorange]

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: T Warnings: Presumed Character Death, Suicidal Ideation  Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington,  Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties),  Bridgerton Family Dynamics, Simon Hastings/Daphne Bridgerton Characters: Colin Bridgerton,  Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Anthony Featherington,  Benedict Bridgerton Additional Tags:  Bridgerton, Polin Summary:  Unexpected bad news arrives for the Bridgerton Family (and friends) regarding Colin's travels. This will be a series that is set after "The Duke and I" or season one of the show. It is a companion piece to "Goodbyes". (#I’mHereToKillYouAllWithFeels)

---

Anthony and Benedict had expected a lot of different reactions from their younger sister, dead silence was not one of them.

They stood there though watching as she read the letter, complete and utter disbelief and confusion clear on her face.

Eloise Bridgerton was certain that Penelope Featherington told her everything.  Sure, Colin had always been nice to Penelope but so were the rest of her brothers.

If there had been something out of the ordinary, she would have picked up on it.  If one of her brothers was taking more notice or spending more time with her, she would certainly picked up on it.

Colin had barely broken off his engagement to Marina before he departed.  Why would he have been so concerned about Pen?

This whole thing felt ludicrous and the only rational explanation was that this was some cruel prank.  Sure, she knew that Penelope was incredible but her brothers were all idiots.   As much as she might have loved to have her best friend have become a sister, she’d never seen it as the remotest of possibilities.

Reading the letter, she felt almost guilty for having never given Penelope enough credit for being capable to grab the attention of one of her brothers.

After a long moment she raised a hand as if to tell her brothers to not even say a word.  She was going to get to the bottom of this.

“You had both better hope that I don’t have cause to leave Gregory my only brother when I return,” she muttered and then with was gone, leaving the safety of the drawing room toward the one person who could answer any of the questions she had.

--

The reason Penelope Featherington could get away with more than most was because no one actually ever paid her much attention. No one cared what she did honestly and that was why it was so easy to keep herself shut away in her bedroom, convince herself that it would be so much easier for everyone involved if she just disappeared.

There were certain things that she had to get in order though.  She had forced herself to sneak in the night to allow Lady Whistledown to honor Colin but after that, she’d begun to get her affairs in order.

She had every intention of it being the last thing that she ever sent to print. She intended to have the secret die with her so that those she loved could at least keep some self-respect.

There were other letters that she had debated putting together too but somehow the words that were the most important were the most impossible to put together.  Her family wouldn’t even put on a show of missing her. The only person left who might actually miss her was Eloise.

She kept plenty of things from her over the years though and perhaps, it was for the best if she never knew.  

The saddest part of it all was that her mother never learned.  The necessary toxins were still easily accessible in the home.  Penelope had listened when Marina had detailed what all she’d consumed.  Surely, if that could nearly kill her if she doubled it, it would actually do the job. If it didn’t work, she was pretty sure she would just throw herself into the sea.

Her normally healthy pink skin was pale, her hands trembled as she wrapped her hand around the deceptively sweet smelling cup of tea. She raised it to her lips, prepared to take a sip.

Her plan was interrupted by the door opening with a slam.

The look on her face must have said it all because all 167.6 centimeters of Eloise Bridgerton came at her with a horrified force, knocking the cup out of her hands letting it shatter and spill against the floor.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” the brunette bellowed.

It was enough the send Penelope crumbling into the ground, curling into herself.  She was shattering and a part of her felt selfish for this all. She no longer had the strength to lie though.

“I want to join him,” she sobbed.

Eloise was completely taken aback but she still descended to her own knees, wrapping her arms around the red-head trying her to best to calm the storm.  She didn’t have to understand any of this to understand that there wasn’t a chance in Hell of her letting Penelope actually harm herself.

“You will not,” she ordered. “I won’t let you.”

“This is all my fault,” Penelope cried.

Eloise didn’t see a possible scenario where that could be true. The letter that her brother had written was still clearly imprinted in her mind along with the millions of questions that followed.

She was starting to think her brothers might have been right to share it.

A loud sigh escaped her lips and she forced her friend to look her in the face.

“My brother would not want this no matter what happened between the two of you,” she said resolutely, knowing that without a shadow a doubt.  

It was Penelope’s turn for confusion to show across her features.

“Nothing happened between me and your brother.”

Eloise couldn’t help but wonder if this was one of those situations where someone protested too much. Sure, she’d clearly missed something but her eyes were wide open now and she just wanted to know the truth.

“Then why did he write to you?” she couldn’t help but ask.

If Penelope could have turned paler in that moment, she was pretty sure that she would have.  Eloise wasn’t sure if she swooned, she’d have been able to keep her up right.

“He … wrote … me?” she asked.

Eloise nodded.

“Before he left,” she said. “It just doesn’t make sense to me because you’ve never given me any inclination that you had any passing fancy for any of my brothers and – I know I’ve been busy with my investigation but surely, I would have noticed something.  Surely, if you were this in love with my brother, you would have told me.”

She didn’t say it because it was of no relevance now that Colin was gone but she was a bit hurt with the thought that she wouldn’t have been told. As much as it might have been weird, there was no one she would have rather had become a sister. In many ways, she’d always felt as if they were sisters.

Her words shamed Penelope.

“I didn’t tell you because he wouldn’t have felt the same. I’m not like you and your sisters. I don’t have Lords and Dukes fighting over my hand. The only men who ever dance with me at balls do so out of pity.  Yes, I … believe I loved your brother but he never would have loved me. Maybe he didn’t marry Marina but there would be another next season or the next.”

Eloise’s loyalties were completely and utterly torn. Did she defend her brother’s character? Did she argue her best friend’s virtues?

“ You’re incredible, Pen.  Maybe the men and the Ton are idiots but that doesn’t change the fact you are one of the smartest, kindest and most loyal people that I’ve ever know. Even if I am furious at you for not telling me all of this, I’ll keep telling you as much.”

There was a pause, the folded letter retrieved from where she’d stashed it in her haste to get there to investigate.

She extended it toward her friend after a long moment of thought.

“I was going to say my brother was daft but apparently you both are when it comes to romance. I’m sorry that he’ll never be able to tell you as much himself.”

--

My Dear Pen, Everyone in my family has a bit of a label to them. I love them all dearly. It’s sometimes a big heavy trying to live up to their accomplishments. Being clever has always been my method of disguising my discomfort in my own skin at times. If you are reading this, I was a coward who couldn’t be man enough to utter the very words that have taken to plaguing my every waking hour. When I am with you, you disarm me.  I am in awe of you to the point that it terrifies me. I’m not completely sure that you recognize how magnificent you truly are. I know that you think that no one takes notice of you but I do.  You’re also my sister’s most beloved friend and as such I may have taken for granted the fact you would always be there. I know that I have acted beastly in recent weeks, throwing myself head first at an ill-fated engagement with little consideration for your own circumstances, ignoring you when you sought to warn me and taking our friendship for granted. I cannot apologize to you enough. I am completely and utterly undeserving of the repeated forgiveness you have bestowed upon me. I had hoped I might throw myself at you for your mercy once more. I know that you are facing bigger issues than my own selfish need of your company though. I understand now that this is why you spurned my request at the ball.  I was wounded when you took leave of me but struggle to find sleep, I knew just how foolish I might have been to think that you would even want to spend the night dancing and talking with a rake like me. You have always deserved the attention of a man not a boy. You deserve someone who would  put you above his own boyish whims. You deserve to be cherished always. By the time I return from Greece, someone else will have seen how magnificent you really are. Perhaps one day, I will grow into the man that you have always had faith that I could be and when I approach you won’t feel need to take leave of me. I will never be as good as Anthony or Benedict but if when we can meet again you so  much as deem me worthy of friendship, I will not take such opportunity for granted.

Your most humble friend, Colin