#and even how the author is now their enemy and has apparently always been terrible

[sarahreadstoomanycomics]

I must admit sometimes it gets tiring week after week reading comics and thinking to myself “Man people are going to get mad/fight about this”. Only to be proven right every single time. 

[jackoshadows]

One of the reasons I tend to see the statements about GRRM's 'holy shit' moments quite critically is that, yes, those were Martin's, yes, they all present them as 'big surprise twists you couldn't have seen coming' as if that would be something that is awesome by itself - like, tee-hee the fanbase (which includes the classical book fanbase, not just show watchers) never thought of THIS endgame king, haha, look at all their stupid theories now. How is this not a somewhat pessimism-inducing indication that GRRM himself appears to be more of a subverting expectations type writer at the end of the day than is apparent from the books so far, something people prefer to lay exclusively at the feet of D&D? Shouldn't he have written more about political aspects in Bran's arc that match the concrete, material problems of the Planetos landscape he spent so much time writing about, then?

I think there's a vast difference between D&D's, quite frankly, absolutely terrible amateur writing to subvert expectations and GRRM's excellent writing to surprise readers with the organically embedded twists and turns.

Ned being executed at the end of book one is a good example of GRRM doing it. The Red Wedding is another. In both cases, the set up is there. We read Ned slowly digging himself deeper and deeper into trouble. He is surrounded by enemies everywhere and inflexible where the rules are concerned. When he is then executed the readers are shocked that yes, the main character has been killed off. Same with the Red Wedding - the clues for which are there right from Arya's ACoK Harrenhal chapters. GRRM actually sets up the circumstances for the Red Wedding over two books. He evens hints at this in his OG outline (One reason for why he was majorly angry about the OG outline being leaked)

The thirteen chapters on hand should give you a notion as to my narrative strategy. All three books will feature a complex mosaic of intercutting points-of-view among various of my large and diverse cast of players. The cast will not always remain the same. Old characters will die, and new ones will be introduced. Some of the fatalities will include sympathetic viewpoint characters. I want the reader to feel that no one is ever completely safe, not even the characters who seem to be the heroes. The suspense always ratchets up a notch when you know that any character can die at any time. - Original Outline

But this is not entirely true is it? While GRRM gives us the impression that no main character is safe with the deaths of Ned, Cat and Robb, the outline lets us in on his actual main characters who ARE safe over 5 books - Jon, Dany, Arya, Bran and Tyrion. That’s the trick - write it in such a way as to give the impression that they are all main characters (And keep insisting over interviews that they are all main characters) so that the series is known for being brave in it’s killing off of main characters.

These are all literary tricks and actual writing tools to tell an interesting story. Authors the world over use them. That’s not what ultimate hacks D&D did though. Theirs was a jumbled mess of fanservice (Fucking Bronn!! Hound and Arya chicken eating adventures!! Cleganebowl!!), tumblr meta and fanfiction, spectacle and CGI (Wight hunt), tons of sexism and toxic masculinity, racism and laziness in story telling, lack of interest or understanding of narrative themes or the rules of the world they are playing in. They just shoved through certain plot points they wanted done - whether it made sense or not - with the excuse that they were ‘subverting expectations’. That comes no where close to what GRRM is doing.

With respect to Bran, two things to keep in mind.

1. GRRM finds it hard to write for the character because he’s so young, disabled and there’s most probably a complicated magical arc involving aspects of time travel like temporal paradoxes and causal loops - check out GRRM’s earlier science fiction work for more on this.

Amazon.co.uk:   You write children well.  

Martin:   I don’t have any but I was one once. When the series was originally conceived, it was only three volumes long and I did not know that several of the main characters were going to be stuck with being children for so much of it. The hardest chapters for me to write are the ones about Bran, just because he is the character most involved in magic, the youngest child and he is so seriously crippled–I have to write in that sense of powerlessness and it has always to convince. Sansa was the least sympathetic of the Starks in the first book; she has become more sympathetic, partly because she comes to accept responsibility for her part in her father’s death. Jon Snow is the truest character–I like his sense of realism and the way he copes with his bastardy. - source

This means that despite being part of the main 5 and one of the central most important characters in the series (The story starts with him and most likely ends with him) he has even less POV chapters than characters like Catelyn and Sansa. Simply put, GRRM has written less of Bran because he finds Bran hard to write.

Note: Bran did have a sort of political learning arc in ACoK/Winterfell. He was the prince of Winterfell, and was learning from Maester Luwin, Rodrick Cassel etc. He made political decisions and chaired the harvest festival. He’s certainly had more of a political arc/education than Sansa Stark - and look at how many are proclaiming her to be the most qualified as QITN

2. The story is only 1/3rd done!! Looking back at the story structure of what he intended to be a trilogy: book one (A Game of Thrones) is about the WOT5K, book two (A Dance with Dragons) is about Dany’s conquest of Westeros and book 3 (The Winds of Winter/A Time for Wolves) was about the Night’s Watch/United Westeros and the fight against the Others.

So GRRM adding more and more side characters and their story means that our central characters are stagnating, unable to move forward and push the central story of the series. Dany and Arya are still stuck in Essos, Jon is still LC, Bran is just starting to learn about the 3ER and his powers. Only the WOT5K is finished so far. There’s so much more story left to tell - which means there is still story time left for GRRM to organically get Bran to his ending of King on the Iron Throne

Which is why I am 100% confident that Bran at the Wall, Daenerys/Tyrion in Essos and Arya in Braavos will get the largest chunk of POV chapters in the next book. I am certain that more than half of the book will be these 4. GRRM has confirmed finishing writing Tyrion. We know the Meereenese knot i.e how to get Dany to Westeros - was his biggest block. With Tyrion done, it’s possible he’s figured that out. He has mentioned that we will explore the Land of Always Winter - possibly through Bran’s POV.

Maybe that’s why it’s taking him this long to finish this damn book. He can no longer put off writing Bran and has to slog through it. No wonder he’s done with Tyrion - the easiest character for him to write, followed by Arya.

tldr : GRRM usually has a good set up for his twists and turns as opposed to D&D. If Bran does sit on the Iron Throne, I am sure how GRRM does it will be way more satisfying than D&D’s ‘Bran has the best story’ nonsense. GRRM has only finished 1/3rd of the story and Bran has the most unfinished story of the main characters. TWoW will have a lot of Bran POV chapters IMO and I think with this book, we will have a better idea of whether King Bran makes sense or is just shite story telling.

[aquamarinescarlet]

Broken bones, healing heart

Pairing: Zooey Kern x Reader

Word count: ~4.8k

Warnings: Car accident, injuries, angst with a happy ending

Summary: After an accident you’re bound to a wheelchair for at least two weeks, and the universe seems to be playing with you when the person who’s supposed to look after you is also the one who hates you the most.

Author’s note: Special thank you to @thesoulofbell for basically co-writting this with me!! This is an enemies to lovers, since apparently that's the only thing I can write.

“Good morning Miss Y/L/N, how’s everything going?” The receptionist greeted as you walked into the building.

“Great Helen, how about you, how are the kids?” You shot her a smile.

“A handful, as always,” you chuckled and made your way to the manager’s office, your office.

The room was neat and clean as always, your degrees exposed on the wall behind your desk, a book shelf on the side, for the purpose of decoration since you’ve never actually read any of those books.

You settled in front of your computer, ogling the stack of papers someone has left on your table for you to look over. Seriously, who even uses that many papers at a time where everything can be done with the help of technology?

Through the glass wall you could see as the other employees started to arrive for the day. With a cup of coffee in hand you went over some of the papers from the pile, reports on the patients the Home Care Agency has been working with, adding all the relevant information to the system.

Ever since you got the promotion, you have hated the job. You enjoyed working with patients, their grumpiness and unwillingness to cooperate was endearing, although others could find it ennerving. Now you’d spend all day in your office, reading over the reports, contacting families, and rearranging the nurses when necessary. It was boring, but you couldn’t quit since the money was necessary.

In addition to the situation, there was Zooey Kern. The woman hated your guts, and refused to do what you told her to. It was frustrating to say the least.

A knock on the door brought you out of your thoughts.

“Excuse me, Miss Y/L/N,” your boss appeared at the door.

“Mr. Vega, how can I help you?” The short man stood nervously at the door.

“Kit had to take the day off since his wife just went into labour this morning and I need someone to fill in for him with Matt Ryder today,” his eyes kept looking at something on the end of the corridor.

“I’ll figure it out,” he let out a sigh of relief and excused himself, rapidly walking in the direction he was obsessing with before.

Shaking it off, you took the list of nurses and, unfortunately for you, stated that every single one of them was busy with some other patient. Just your luck. Mr. Ryder required constant care due to his cancer, which could cause relapses every so often, you couldn’t leave him without someone for a whole day.

Without any other option, you decided you’d take care of it yourself. It was a great excuse to get back ‘into the field’.

You reorganized everything, putting away the reports you’d already read, and separating those you still had to take a look at, before going into the supplies area and taking everything you needed.

Due to your position you had Mr. Ryder’s entire schedule, with medicines and quantities all laid out, so that wouldn’t be a problem. The address wasn’t hard to find too, and soon enough you were driving to his place.

As if on cue, Kit started to blow up your phone with messages about Mr. Ryder and all the specifics about his care. Telling you to beware of his blunt honesty, of his terrible habit of playing the drums all the time…

Your mouth was dry and your head felt dizzy. You tried to move but your muscles wouldn’t respond to your brain.

“Shh, honey, don’t move too much.” A female voice called out, hand touching yours.

Carefully you started to open your eyes, being hit with a massive white light. Blinking the initial shock away, you started to make out Helen’s figure. Taking in the full room, the plain white walls, the beeping of machines, the cast around your leg.

You were in your car driving to Mr. Ryder’s home, your phone blowing up with messages, how did you end up in the hospital? Your eyes searched Helen’s for some answers.

“You were in an accident, but you’re okay, everything will be fine.” She reassured and you could see the tears starting to pool in her eyes.

You squeezed her hand. Scared and alone. You took a second to process the whole situation. Your leg was completely immobilized, but for some reason moving the rest of your body felt like too much of an effort to bare.

Helen left your side to get you some water and you missed the touch, the comfort. Gladly you accepted the drink, sipping from the cup she brought to your mouth. The soreness on your throat didn’t leave though.

“Feeling better?” You gently nodded. “Good, you scared me,” your heart warmed at the confession.

Ever since you moved into town the woman has taken you under her wing. Living away from your entire family was exciting, but also terrifying, and Helen has always looked after you like you were one of her children. Unable to speak, you squeezed her hand, hoping to transmit to her all your gratitude with that simple gesture.

Your little moment was broken by the entrance of the doctor.

“Miss Y/L/N, I see you’re awake-”

“Good news doctor?” She interrupted him eagerly.

“Yes, you had some serious injuries,” he told you, “a broken leg and a stable spinal fracture, but you should be okay with the right care.”

Helen let out a sigh of relief, relaxing against the chair she was sitting in.

“We will be able to discharge you in two days, but you’ll need constant help on the day-to-day activities, forcing that spine fracture could lead to a spinal cord injury, and we must be sure to avoid that.” He explained.

“That shouldn’t be a problem, we can get someone from the agency to look after you, right?” She asked and you gulped.

You were always the one looking after other people, being the patient would be weird, especially if one of your employees were to be the caregiver. It would be weird, that’s for sure.

The doctor and Helen walked out of the room to discuss some specifics of your diagnosis, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You wanted to protest, the nurse side of your brain talking louder, but your vocal chords failed you.

The hospital itself wasn’t that bad. The food sucked, and you constantly found yourself alone in your room. The exams they ran were extremely painful as well. Okay maybe it was that bad, but at least you weren’t drowning in paperwork, or spending your day behind a desk.

Instead you spent your days in bed, in pain, of course, but somehow it was slightly better. Mr. Vega came to pay you a quick visit, and so did some of your colleagues. It was good company, despite lasting only a handful of minutes.

You were relieved when it finally came the day you could go home. Helen was the one who picked you up and drove you. Being in a car was frightening, even though you had no memories of the accident itself, but she was always there to comfort you.

She helped you settle on your apartment, the wheelchair really made moving around a difficult task.

“So, when is Mr. Vega sending the poor girl who’s gonna live with me for the next few weeks?” You asked, as you watched her struggle to push you around the furniture.

“Soon, I hope.” She flopped on the couch tiredly.

“Wow, already so eager to get rid of me?”

“You can be a handful,” she joked back, causing you both to chuckle. “Do you need anything?”

You rolled your eyes at her preoccupation, she’d been asking that every five minutes.

“I’m good.”

“Oh thank God.”

“Oh c’mon, I’m not that bad, but thank you Helen, really, you’ve been so much help.” She gave you a soft smile, taking your hand in hers and giving it a little squeeze.

A knock on the door caught your attention.

“That must be her,” Helen said, standing up to answer.

“Do you even know who it is?”

“Nope, Mr. Vega said he’d sent whoever was available, and since you had the accident he’s been running short on staff,” she finally found the keys, revealing the figure on the hallway.

“No,” your eyes went wide when you saw none other than Zooey Kern standing in your doorway, with a very displeased expression, “is this a joke?”

“I’m not happy about it either,” she simply stated, making her way inside, dropping the bags and supplies messily on the counter.

Helen just stared between the both of you with confusion, and some apprehension. Your feud with Zooey was very well known amongst the agency, except for Mr. Vega, apparently.

Before all this hate, you and Zooey were friends, really close friends. You’d both joined the company together and hit it off pretty quickly. You were truly inseparable, doing every and anything together.

That was until she and her - now - ex-husband started going through a divorce and you got a promotion. You’re not quite sure when, how or even why it happened, but Zooey began to hate your guts.

Asking or just striking a conversation always ended up with her yelling at you for no reason. After she said some really hurtful things you simply gave up on trying, there’s nothing you could do if she didn’t tell you what you did wrong.

“I have to go, please don’t kill each other,” Helen pitched, sending you a look of pity before heading out.

You didn’t say anything, just watched as she started to unpack. Reality hit you when she took out a few pieces of clothing, setting them down on the counter.

“What are those for?”

“You want me to spend two weeks in the same clothes?” She mocked.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be here for two weeks,” you made up your mind, “I’ll talk to Mr. Vega tomorrow first thing and ask for someone else.”

“Good luck with that, everyone is busy so it’s me or no one. And unfortunately for the both of us, you can’t be left alone.” You let out a scoff, the nerve she had.

“I can manage it fine on my own.” She was quick to dismiss that statement.

“You have a spinal fracture, plus your leg is in a cast, you can’t walk, or even stand up. If you force your back too much you could worsen the wound. Thinking about it, I might just let you…,” she gave you a smirk, an evil smirk.

That bitch. You couldn’t help the loud frustrated sigh that left your throat.

Turns out living with Zooey was bearable, for the first few hours. She kept to herself and so did you. That is, until the time came that you needed to take a shower.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She questioned as you rolled yourself towards the bathroom.

“Taking a shower,” you responded uninterested.

The wheelchair could barely fit on the small bathroom, making you irritated. Moving around to grab your stuff, such as your towel or anything inside a cabinet proved to be an even bigger challenge.

As your anger got the best of you, you pushed yourself up, leaning slightly on the sink, and used one of your hands to push the chair away. With the brace hugging your torso and the cast immobilizing any knee movement on the left leg, taking a step was almost impossible.

Taking a few deep breaths, making the brace feel even tighter than it should be, you decided to take a leap of faith. Hands away from the sink, you were about to do it when a pair of hands held you back.

“What are you doing?”

“My job,” Zooey’s voice came from behind you as her hands held you firmly by the waist, “you really think you can do this on your own?” Her cocky attitude was picking on your nerves, and you were not about to just let her give you a shower.

“I don’t need help,” you pushed her hands off of you, but they came right back.

“I’m not budging on this.”

“Why not? Wouldn’t you be happy if I just hurt myself even more?” You challenged.

“Yes, but if you did I would lose my job… and my license, so I’m gonna help you whether you like it or not.”

You huffed dramatically. She was right and you hated to admit that. And it has already been too hard to even get up on your own, how you planned on taking a whole shower like that was beyond you.

It was her job, and she was very useful, but damn she could’ve been gentler. Her hands were way too harsh on your skin, way too careless with the soap, and at some point you thought she was going to rip your hair off of your skull by how roughly she was washing it.

Nonetheless, the feeling of clean skin and a fresh pair of clothing was utterly refreshing. Zooey helped you get dressed, which almost ended with your arm being bent backwards, but you pushed your hatred away, determined to enjoy your first night back home in peace.

A movie played on the TV as Zooey prepared dinner. At that point you were warming up to the idea of having her around, especially if she was going to cook for you every meal. That thought was quickly thrown away as she handed you a plain boring sandwich. In revenge you decided to watch three more movies after that, keeping the woman from being able to sleep since she would be doing it on the couch.

“Okay, that’s enough,” she abruptly turned off the TV, “it’s already 2am and I want to sleep.”

“And I want to finish the movie,” you yanked the remote from her hands, turning the screen back on.

“You need sleep.”

“No, you need sleep, I’m totally fine.” You retorted.

Before you could do anything else, she got up from the couch, taking the remote from you, turning the screen off, and hiding it on the top shelf above the TV. You looked at her, dumbfounded.

“What are you doing?” You practically screamed.

“Making you listen to me, now bed.” She moved to try and transfer you to your wheelchair, which you avoided by pushing her back.

“This is my house, you don’t dictate the rules, and I said I don’t want to go to bed,” you argued.

“It won’t be your house if you die of exhaustion,” she reached for you again.

“I’m not tired.”

“Yes, you are.”

“You’re only using that as an excuse so you can go to sleep,” you challenged.

“Perhaps, or it’s because you have been picking on your nails for the past hour, and your legs haven’t stopped bouncing in a while,” instantly you stopped the movement, “you do this when you’re tired, plus your eyelids are trembling,” she pointed out.

She wasn’t wrong. You were tired. Especially since hospital beds weren’t the most comfortable which means you haven’t had a good night sleep in days. Truthfully, you just wanted to piss her off by staying up for so long, a small revenge for the shower earlier, but the idea of going to bed was seductive.

Begrudgingly you accepted her help, moving to your room, and comfortably laying in bed. This time, though, her movements weren’t as aggressive, she was surprisingly gentle. Soon enough you drifted off, already planning on calling Mr. Vega the next morning.

“Are you kidding?”

“I’m sorry Y/N, but currently she’s the only one available,” Mr. Vega spoke through the phone.

“Everyone is busy? Can’t you just switch them? I’m sure Zooey would be pleased to tend for anyone else,” you pleaded one more time.

“They’ve been taking care of these patients for months, some for years, switching probably won’t be the best course of action right now, you’ll just have to figure this out,” he explained, before finishing the call, leaving you extremely frustrated.

A groan left your lips just as Zooey walked in, catching her attention, an annoying smirk plastered on her face.

“Don’t even say it,” you warned while she just enjoyed watching how bothered you were by the situation, “why aren’t you mad? Wouldn’t you prefer to be anywhere else?”

“I would, but watching you like this makes it all worth it.”

You swallowed your anger, your urge to launch yourself at her, since you wouldn’t be able to do it anyways. Instead you turned around, hiding inside your room, not bearing to spend another second in front of her.

Soon you fell into a routine. You would keep to yourself, and so would she. Zooey would help you with showers, preparing meals and doing any extra shopping you’d need, while you would let her help, let her keep track of your medicine and go to sleep at reasonable hours. You stayed out of her way and she stayed out of yours.

It was fun, you had to admit. Since moving around was very limited, you took every opportunity you could to get Zooey to do the simplest of tasks. You’d ask her to grab you a cup of water every twenty minutes, to the point when she gave you an entire bottle. You’d drop random things just so you could ask her to pick them up.

Unfortunately the fun dissipated quickly, frustration settling in. You were starting to feel useless around the house, needing Zooey for everything, from simpler things, like picking up the remote from the coffee table, to harder - and more embarrassing - tasks, such as going to the bathroom.

It was no longer amusing to watch Zooey groan as she set about doing something for you, it was equally irritating.

“Can we go out?”

“Are you asking me on a date?” She mocked, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I mean go out as in, go anywhere other than this place.” You explained, not in the mood to fight anymore. “Maybe a stroll through the park.”

“I’m not pushing you around a park.”

“Oh, you’re not? Then let’s see what Mr. Vega will think about me being locked inside, y’know how he is with the patients getting fresh air,” you challenged, reaching for your phone.

“Fine,” she gave in with a loud huff.

Getting you into the car was an entirely new challenge. At least you and Zooey had already figured out the best way to move you by now.

Arriving at the park was an utterly satisfying feeling. The last time you had seen anything other than your furniture was ten days ago, you were in desperate need of a change of scenery.

Zooey pushed you for a couple of minutes, and you took the chance to enjoy the smell of freshly cut grass and the warmth of the sun on your skin. But she got bored quickly, setting you beside a bench before sitting on it.

“Happy?” She asked, voice laced with annoyance.

“Yes, actually,” you responded excitedly, only pissing her off more.

You decided not to push it any further, and just enjoyed the silence for as long as it lasted, even if it wasn’t that long.

“Y/N? Zooey?” A voice coming from the left caught your attention and you locked eyes with the brunette walking towards you.

“Marie?” You were shocked, not expecting to see her.

“What happened?” She asked, taking in the state your body was in.

“Car accident,” you shrugged it off.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I see Zooey is helping you out, that’s nice of her.”

“Why don’t you fuck off Marie?” The blonde spoke harshly, but you chose to ignore her attitude.

“I’m getting better, what about you? What are you doing in town?”

“I had a meeting, I’m leaving right after,” you gave her a frown, hoping to have a chance to catch up.

“That’s too bad, next time you come let’s go for a coffee,” you pitched.

“Of course,” she sent you a smile then glanced at her watch, “actually I’m already 5 minutes late so I better get going.”

“I’m sorry for holding you,” you both chuckled.

“No worries, it was nice seeing you, I hope you get better soon.” You thanked her and pitched your goodbyes.

When she was out of sight, your eyes fell on Zooey,

“Why the long face?” You teased.

“I don’t like her, didn’t I make it obvious?”

“Why not? She’s nothing but nice,” you argued.

Marie used to work at the agency a couple of months back. She and you used to date, but broke it off when she was offered a job in a different state. The breakup wasn’t hard on you, you were fond of her, but after some time the relationship just wasn’t… working. The excitement had died down and boredom was the only thing left.

Nonetheless you had kept a friendly status with her, wishing nothing other than the best out of the new job. Zooey clearly doesn’t see eye to eye with you on this - as well as in many others things it seems.

“Nice?” She rolled her eyes. “That woman is everything but nice.”

“You never liked her.”

“And I don’t know how you did,” you shot her a raised eyebrow, “never mind.”

She got up and started to push you back to the car, but you weren’t about to drop the topic that easily.

“Why didn’t you like her?”

“She’s a pathological liar, Y/N. I can’t even count how many times she has lied about being sick or having some sort of emergency just to skip work.”

“That’s not true.” Your voice exuded more confidence on that statement than what you actually felt.

She helped you into the car, driving you back home. The ride was silent for the most part. You were lost in your own mind, repassing your moments with Marie.

Marie was never much of a sharer. Keeping most of her thoughts to herself, not very good when it came to talking about her feelings. But you always respected that, you didn’t push her, you didn’t question anything. She had a right to her privacy, right?

“She was just a very private person,” you uttered suddenly, more to yourself than to Zooey.

“You know that’s not true.”

“Not everyone has to be an oversharer,” you countered.

“There’s a difference between sharing and actively hiding things.”

You arrived home and Zooey wheeled you inside.

“How would you even know if she was hiding something?”

“Oh, please, she was always hungover after missing a day at work due to ‘family emergencies’, her stories changed every time she told them, she talked about hundreds of friends that we never got to meet…”

“Now you’re just making assumptions.” She let out a dry laugh.

“You are so innocent, it’s endearing,” her tone was derogatory, fanning your nerves.

“What does that mean?” You raised your voice.

“You were miserable when with her.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were. You checked your phone every five minutes, you lost your focus when she didn’t show up at the agency, she took hours to text back keeping you out of it all day,” she pointed out.

“I was just worried,” you defended,” and what does this have to do with anything?” You were almost screaming at this point.

“She wasn’t good for you and you were too dumb to notice, apparently you still are.”

You gripped the armrest on the wheelchair, your knuckles gaining a white color from all the strength you were putting into it.

“Too dumb?” You growled.

“Yes, too dumb, she was obviously toxic and-” Tears were starting to pool on your eyelids due to the anger boiling inside you.

“What would you know about toxic relationships? You were the one who cheated on your husband.” You yelled and the room fell silent.

Zooey had an unreadable expression on her face. Her breathing was uneven and your heart was going a thousand miles a second. Biting back the tears, your vision cleared up enough for you to watch her turn around and leave. She walked out the door without another word, leaving you alone to collect your thoughts.

Everything felt overwhelming. Moving. Speaking. Crying. Has your relationship really been a joke for her? For Marie. Why didn’t Zooey ever tell you about it, all of it?

Maybe she did and you didn’t listen, didn’t care cause you were so blindly in love. Maybe you knew all along, just didn’t want to see it, to accept it was true.

How did this day turn so bad so quickly? You were mad at Marie, and you didn’t even know why. The relationship ended a while ago, it shouldn’t matter anymore.

You were mad at Zooey. She was your friend, at the time at least. And yet she hid the truth from you, letting you live through the anguish that the relationship had been. Now you were over it, you were happily living oblivious to all that mess but she felt the need to throw it all in your face.

The audacity she had. Calling you dumb for accepting that for so long when she got to the point of getting married to someone that didn’t make her happy. The hypocrisy. Hating someone for their toxic behaviour when she, herself had cheated on her husband instead of talking about her problems, her feelings.

Your chest was feeling tight, your body frozen in place. It had been minutes, maybe hours, since she left, you really couldn’t tell. You wanted to cry, but tears wouldn’t come out. You wanted to break something, but you were bound to this wheelchair, unable to move on your own without risk of causing more damage to your injuries.

A sudden need for water took over you, but one of the wheels got stuck on the carpet. You tried to set it free, but with all these feelings boiling inside you, it was in vain. With a mixture of impatience, frustration, anger and hurt, you threw yourself off of the chair, determined to get that water.

Standing up proved to be harder than expected, your muscles not having been used properly for the past two weeks. Crawling was worse, the effort put on your arms sending waves of pain to your spine.

Tears burned on your eyes at any attempt you made to reach the kitchen. Rage fueled you. Rage towards the whole situation. Towards the accident. Towards Marie. Towards Zooey. Towards yourself. Towards the fact that you became so useless you couldn’t even perform the simplest of tasks.

“Y/N! Oh my god!” Zooey’s voice echoed once she found you.

“No,” you screamed, “I don’t need your help!”

“Really? Look at you,” she said exasperatedly.

“I said no,” you tried to push her away in vain.

“Stop being so stubborn and just let me help or you’re gonna hurt yourself,” she managed to break through your fight, helping you to stand up.

“Don’t act like you care.”

“I do care.”

“No, you don’t! You have hated me for weeks and I don’t even know why!”

“Because you took the promotion that was supposed to be mine!”

“I never wanted the promotion, I just wanted you,” you blared to her face, breathing unevenly, eyes meeting hers. “All I wanted… was you,” you whispered in the dead silent room, “but at the time you were going through a divorce, you stopped talking to me, and I just needed the distraction, and the extra cash since my brother is starting college soon.”

“I didn’t cheat on him,” she admitted and you frowned, “my ex husband, I didn’t cheat on him.”

To say you were confused was an understatement. You remember it, when she told you everything, about the man she slept with, about the divorce, it was during your first fight. She noticed your questioning look.

“We had talked about the divorce already,” she explained, “before that party. I was going to tell you about it there actually, but then I saw you kissing that girl and something- something just- it just didn’t sit right with me. So… yeah… I did it to get back at you.”

“I- I- I don’t get it,” so many things were going through your mind, you couldn’t focus on anything properly, “that’s why you yelled at me the next day?”

“Kinda, the jealousy mixed up with the anger from you taking that promotion was too much and I just exploded.”

Your breathing was uneven, your face faintly red from the tears earlier. Zooey still held your body close to hers, keeping you from falling or straining your injuries. The feeling of her hand on your torso, her eyes watching yours deeply, made thinking that much more difficult.

“So what you’re saying is-”

“Just kiss me already.”

[alltheworldsinmyhead]

ON FEYSAND’S PLOTLINE IN ACOSF

              !!!!MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE ACOSF!!!!

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Let’s be honest for a while, okay?

ACOCF had potential to be SJM’s best book, if not for any other reason then because of the sheer idea of it. Coming-of-age, healing story of the most complex and polarizing character she has ever created set in the time of peace, away from the familiar setting (according to the later changed concept which still remains in the snippet at the end of ACOFAS), development of her arguably most feisty and angsty love story... It could be her absolute trumph. Even with the change to stick to Velaris instead of exploring the Illyrian culture of the Mountains and with the added conflict of the Mortal Queens and Koshei, it still could work quite well. 

It didn’t. For many, many reasons, but the most important one, in my opinion, being the feysand pregnancy plot. 

Nothing about this plotline made sense. Not a single thing. From start to finish, it was an absolute disaster from the character-writing POV, from the narration POV, from every single context of it. It broke the rules of real-life logic, it broke the rules of this fantasy world setting and it completely exposed that Rhysand, while not a bad guy, is a pretty terrible partner, even worse ruler and an absolutely terrible contender for the High King title. 

Let’s break this whole mess down (and expect this post to be mammoth-sized. it’s not my fault, though, write to SJM if you have any complains):

1) Feyre, 21, decides to get pregnant, even though less than a year earlier, she expresses the delight with not being forced to bear children to her new mate and told him herself she wants to wait a while and enjoy her life with him. Feyre decides she wants a baby though and Rhysand goes along with it, even though he is aware how young Feyre is and how hard her life has been up until this point. He wants a baby too much to have an honest discussion with Feyre about it, to stop and wonder what is the reason for her sudden change of heart, to reassure her that they have a lot of time ahead of them and don’t need to rush. No. She mades a sudden decision to have a baby after A YEAR OF MARRIAGE and not much more of being turned fae, JUST AFTER having her whole world put upside down, having received a completely new title and responsibilities, surviving the wat and being mated. Great. 

2) Feyre decides to get pregnant and Rhys goes along with it less than a year after the end of the bloody war. It is politically a delicate time, everyone is still not sure how the balance will shift, some countries don;t want to sign the peace treaty, etc. There are a lot of enemies and a lot of turmoil remaining. But sure. Let’s have a baby. Perfect time to add yet another target, another weakness that can be use by the Mortal Queens, Beron or whatever else with malicious intent towards the Night Court. 

2) Feyre gets pregnant after approximately a year of trying. I know healthy people of reproductive age for whom it takes ages more than this. Fae’s pregnancies are rare af and precious and happen once in a blue moon, but ofc SJM broke the world’s rules for her darling Feyre. And again, for Kallas and Vivianne who are also expecting the baby, even though it has been a maximum of 3 years since they’ve mated. 3 years is also not a particularly long time to try to have a baby for those who have issues with their reproductive systems like Fae women. Thank you, next. 

3) Rhys has unprotected sex with Feyre in her Illyrian form when she conceives, even though he knows full well having a winged baby would kill her. He does it anyway, for shits and giggles apparently. They probably have sex in the sky above Velaris, for all we know. 

4) The baby has wings. Now, the whole explanation with Illyrian wings being bony (bc they resemble bat wings) and Seraphin ones being more flexible (bc they resemble bird ones) is so insanely stupid that it takes around 3 seconds to wikipedia this shit and find out it’s exactly the opposite. But okay, the baby has wings and Feyre will die while giving birth, along with the baby. Madja forbids Feyre from turning into an Illyrian to carry the pregnancy because it MIGHT hurt the baby. Now, remember, Feyre conceived while in Illyrian form and then turned into High Fae. The baby survived it just fine. The baby MIGHT be hurt by Feyre turning .... but it will FOR SURE die if she stays High Fae and Feyre will too. Idk about you, but I would take the risk of MIGHT instead of FOR SURE. Especially when she is already in labour and dying. Cauldron or Nesta or idk who alters Feyre’s pelvis after the baby is cut out of her for no apparent reason but to allow feysand to make exactly the same mistakes later on. How convinient. And Nesta also alters her own pelvis bc god forbid she won’t be able give Cassian babies like the little useful mate she is now. She should’ve probably done it with Elain too, just in case she decides to fuck Az in the future, because fuck consequences and fuck the stakes in the story that make the readers actually CARE about characters bc they know the author may actually kill them and not save their life every fucking time.  

5) I don’t even want to comment on the fact Rhys hid the true danger of this pregnancy for Feyre and their family went along with it. It is absolutely disgusting. And Nesta telling her and that being condemned as the act of the ultimate cruelty which is a final straw to break her self-loathing back.... is abhorrent. It made my sick, actually, phisically sick. There is no justification for it. No at all. And the fact that they did not even consider abortion sends a message that I really don’t want to think too much about it. Feyre was 2 months along when they learned the baby is winged. 2 months. 8 weeks. It wasn’t a baby yet, let’s be honest. They could’ve at least discussed it. She - oh my god, I cannot believe SJM wrote it this way, I’m gonna be sick. 

6) For the entirety of Feyre’s pregnancy, they have no plan to really help her. Labour plan? Haven’t heard if it.  They have money and power and access to the healers of the whole land. And did not figure out how to stop her from bleeding out after a fucking C-section. THIS WORLD HAS MAGIC AND THEY COULDN’T STOP HER FROM BLEEDING OUT AFTER A FUCKING C-SECTION. Didn’t even ask Thesan, the High Lord of Healing, to be present. Cassian had guts hanging out of his stomach and survived. Az was fucking slashed apart in Hybern and survived. But yeah, Feyre was on a brink of death after a C-section. Great, Sarah. Keep it up. Let’s force the thought into young girls’ heads that labour is the most lethal thing ever, why not. 

7) Also, for the entirety of Feyre’s pregnancy, Rhys keeps quiet about this idiotic bargain. He, as far as we know, doesn’t make any plans for the moment when him and Feyre and possibly their baby are dead. If they died and baby survived.. who would take care of it? Does Rhys have a conversation with his family about it? NAH. Doesn’t write any sort of plan how to keep the Court going, doesn’t inform even the closest of his co-workers how they should proceed to act after he’s gone and his and Feyre’s power go to god-knows-who. Their deaths would mean a sure chaos for the weakend and fragile Prythian and the Night Court especially and yet nor Rhys nor Feyre make any sort of preparations for it. Rhys doesn’t tell his brothers or Mor or HIS SECOND IN COMMAND they will all soon have to somehow manage without him. He was about to just leave them to their own devices and told them in the last. possible. moment. 

And this man - this man is, according to Amren, the best candidate to handle the whole country? To unite it? This fool who makes idiotic bargains, who thinks first about his cock and his own selfish desires and considers his subjects and his responsibilities as a High Lord last and least important of all? Who has so much trust in his wife, in his High Lady, the mother of his son that he doesn’t tell her she will almost surely die on a birthing bed because it MAY UPSET HER? 

This plotline was the straw that broke my back. ACOTAR, at it’s heart has always been a ya fantasy with added ‘spice’ and I was willing to bend my critical-thinking skills in many cases and forget and forgive many smaller idiotic issues in this series. But this? It is not idiotic. It is massive and stupid to the point when it becomes insulting to the reader. It was a plot straight out of a bad fanfic, not something that should be in a published book written by someone who writes for a living. You could even argue that Twilight has handled this toxic trope better.  I have wasted my money on this book and thinking about it will always be painful for me. So yeah.

ACOSF could be great. Ended up quite pathetic. 

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL

April 2021 Part 1

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Second Chance Ep 1 - living up to its name since it looks to be a series of redemption arcs. Launched with a college confession and a broken friendship, then a flash back to them as seniors in high school. Pairings include friends to lovers, nerd/jock, and maybe cafe boss/employee. There’s a lot going on, but it’s still... quiet and sweet. The script is pretty pat but it’s still WAY more watchable than Cupid Coach or Brothers and most of the acting is solid. Ep 1 tropes included: he’s in engineering, wound tending, fast & bicurious. This could turn into what I wanted My Gear & Your Gown to be. Fingers crossed. 

Love Poison 2 Ep 1 & 2 turns out I did watch and report on season 1 (8 eps), season 2 seems equally unmemorable. Thai countryside setting, strong dialect, incomprehensible plot, camp side characters, and ghastly singing. 

Y-Destiny Ep 1 (eng subs?) - opened with the sports romance enemies to lovers (they aren’t going in the teaser order). When the couple got over fighting, the flirting was v cute, but the flipping SPONGE BATH trope had to rear its ugly head. Still, this series is shaping up to be less coy and more frank than most BL, better than expected. It feels, I don’t know, gay-er or something?  *** Sources were correct that each couple is getting (at least) 2 eps, and MDL has been updated to say this is a 15 episode series (not 7). 

Cupid Coach 12 fin - The new Nite was great and should have been a main all along. It felt like we got a tiny nugget of what could have been in about 10 minutes worth of this last ep. It was way too slow with terrible editing and a criminally bad script, but at least it ended happy. Mostly, like Friend Forever, I’m just disappointed that these two actors were done dirty by the series. Bad Cupid Coach, no screen caps for you. 

Lovely Writer Ep 6 - breaking news, there’s a het couple I like: toppy bi femme + soft boi = such a good pairing! I know, but this NEVER happens. Meanwhile, Sib’s secret is out, Gene is a bit of a drama queen, and the plot thickens. We half way through.  

Brothers Ep 9 - Kaow had a serious moment of advice giving that was truly lovely. Lots of family dama made this a superior episode to... well... any of the others in this series. Which isn’t saying much. 

1000 Stars Ep 10 fin - at the start this series didn’t grab me the way GMMTV’s last BL, Tonhon Chonlatee, did. But boy did it end 1000x better. Might have given us 2021′s best forehead kiss. I enjoyed the ultra romantic cliff-top reunion kiss, and I LOVED the stinger flirting scene. That was an absolute gift we had no right to expect. This drama is a poster child for finishing on a high note (always focus on that dessert course). Final thoughts? This was FAR more a classic romance than it was BL. There were some BL tropes used but not many and most of them originated in the romance genre not yaoi. A picture perfect ending bumped 1000 Stars much higher up my best-of list than expected. Not sure how often I’ll rewatch it as a whole, but this last episode? I’m probably rewatching it right now. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Dear Uranus (Taiwan GL) Ep 3 fin - I guess that’s it? Okaaaaay  

HIStory 4: Close To You (Taiwan) Ep 3 (AKA Ep 5-6) - we got actual legit gay culture not just BL (always appreciated) from XingSi. I’m starting to find LiCheng’s “show them we fucking” hijinks hilarious rather than annoying (not sure why, maybe I just love a rubber chicken, or maybe it was the STUFFED CORN WITH THE TASSEL that did it). 

-- H4 Moment of RANT --

Tropes included beach trip, there’s only one bed, cook for him, baby is a floppy drunk, carry baby to bed, and.... drunk non-con. Whoopdedoo. Here we go again. Did TharnType teach us NOTHING? (Apparently it taught us if the chemistry is good enough, I have no morals at all.) At least H4 seems to be taking us out of cheese into serious when it comes to assault. Or is it? 

I take back what I said last week about XingSi & YongJie being codependency + salvation trope, that only works if YongJie is the uke. He’s NOT. So we got us an obsessive predatory villain with a possible redemption arc. That’s more common in crime dramas, mafia romance, and epic fantasy than BL. It’s real hard to redeem a sexual predator in a reality-grounded universe like contemporary romance (See Kla in LBC1&2). 

Next week is gonna be a test of the whole damn franchise. Imma remind both me a you that this was ep 3 of 10 so we got a ways to go yet... but ooof, what have we wrought, BL? (I ended up doing a whole post about the stepbrother trope because of this sub plot.) Taiwan is killing me.

-- RANT ended --

Word of Honor (China) Ep 19-21 - over half way point so we got ALL the back story (in a classic 4 act story structure midway reveal). Now we know who WKX really is and his lineage. We also got some cute hugs and hand holds. Moving along at a nice clip despite being 36 eps total. Still gayest thing to come out of we-not-gay China since Advance Bravely. 

Most Peaceful Place (Vietnam) Ep 2 - takes them a while to get eng subs together and ep 2 didn’t drop until late. So I’m putting this in a Thurs time slot going forward. Miscommunication already cleared up and a 2nd couple has been introduced. The pacing on these Vietnamese BLs is always a bit... off. But it’s still better than most of its ilk, enjoyable. I’m thinking it’s a 6 ep arc. 

We Best Love 2 (Taiwan) Ep 5 - after the initial drama DRAMA of ep 2, the current external crisis at work is much quieter, giving this whole season a top heavy feel. Taken along side the first season, I think it’s fitting nicely into a 4 act structure, but that might be my bias. I hope I’m not wrong, we’ll find out next week. Shi De puttering about being domestic with Shu Yi on his back was the best execution of the piggyback trope EVER. Meanwhile, our little D/s side couple of codependency, salvation trope + mental illness is becoming weirdly appealing. I don’t know. H4 done mess with my head. 

Stand Alones 

Absolute BL AKA Zettai BL ni Naru Sekai vs Zettai BL ni Naritakunai Otoko  (Japan) Ep 1-4 mini series. Found subs under A Man Who Defies The World of BL. IT’S HILARIOUS. It’s Japan making fun of us, but also itself for having started this whole BL nonsense - from yaoi roots to present day. It’s parody goddamn gold. Utterly cheeky unto the very last line. We are not worthy. 

Apparently the most powerful tropes of all time are: baby is a floppy drunk and the piggyback fo nobility. Oh and chocolate. {Full review here.} 

Honestly, this show may have been made with only @heretherebedork and I in mind. I don’t know if you’d even understand half of it if you don’t have a history with the manga source genre and an obsessive interest in underlying narrative devices. I haven’t seen much chatter in the blog’o’sphere on this one because, in the end, it’s not a romance at all, it’s social commentary. 

The ending line was a masterclass in lampooning a genre. I’m going to rewatch the whole thing just to catch all the digs I missed first time around. It is a thing of beauty and a joy forever. 

Thank you Japan. I forgive you all your hair-styling sins of the last decade. 

Breaking News 

Spring Line Up:

Scholar Ryu’s Wedding Ceremony AKA Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding (Korean historical BL) April 15th 

Close Friend the series (Thai trailer) April 22. 

2gether the movie (Thai trailer) April 22 to Thai theaters.

Nitiman (Thai) May 7 on One31.

I Told Sunset About You 2 (Thai) May 27 on LineTV

Ossan’s Love (Hong Kong) June to Viu 

Gossip 

Bad Buddies released its first promo op via Arm Share, which means GMMTV is at least *thinking* about filming it. 

Fun behind the scenes gossip sesh with eng subs for Tell the World I Love You (that Perth Bas movie we are maybe getting someday but will likely be sad). 

New Thai BL Bite Me (adapted from novel Grab a Bite) dropped a teaser. It stars Mark Siwat (Kla in LBC) as uke character Ake, a delivery boy with special foodie powers, and chef Eua (seme played by Zung Kidakorn) who discovers him. It’s from the same author as Manner of Death so we might even get some actual plot. Since it’s an established BL actor who I happen LOVE, a known author, and a plot about FOOD, I could not me more excited for this one. 

Next Week Looks Like This:

Some shows may be listed a day later than actual air date for accessibility reasons. Some are dropping multiples at a time but just started so I’m not sure on numbering. 

Upcoming 2021 BL master post here.

Links to watch are provided when possible, ask in a comment if I missed something.

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

The Softest Shout (Fili x Reader)

Requested by: @guardianofrivendell

Saw that your requests were open 👀 I absolutely LOVE your Legolas fics! But can you maybe write a Fíli oneshot 👉👈? Can be angst with fluff ending, or just fluff. I am WEAK for enemies to lovers or angrily confessing your love without thinking: "But why?" "Because I love you!" I'm happy with whatever really :)

A/N: here you are! My first Fili fic! Was gonna save it for Fili Friday, but couldn’t wait! Poor majestic lion deserves more love! Enjoy! ☀️

How dare he! The audacity! The nerve! What right did Fili have, as to boss those beneath him around?

Y/n grinded her teeth, as she sat on the stone steps of one of Erebor’s many halls. A battle loomed in the distance – one between her kind, and the Elves. It regarded mostly stolen jewellery, and the stubborn streak of Thorin, which she saw all too much in his oldest nephew.

Y/n was just as adept in battle as her male counterparts were. However, Fili apparently thought not.

He had always treated her unfairly, Y/n mused. He was always mean – pulling on her pigtails, making snide remarks and all-around teasing. Oh, how it made her blood boil.

However, this was the final straw for the woman. She was a grown adult, and yet, here she was – sidelined, and forced to sit out the approaching war.

It had startled her, to say the least, when Fili snapped earlier. She was arranging plans for the fight ahead, regarding her armour. However, Fili quickly stormed into the room, and took the chainmail right from her hands.

He then proceeded to seethe and scold her, claiming that she had ‘no place on the battlefield’. She too had said some choice words, which in hindsight, may have been a little brash. Though, she did not regret them at all, for they were birthed from nothing but truth.

So, now here Y/n sat – furious on the stone steps.

Dwalin soon walked past. He stopped, confused, for a moment. Why was she sat down? By Durin! There was a war to prepare for!

“Lass,” he began scolding, “I know for a fact you are not sitting down right now – not when you could be readying yourself to fight against those pansy peacocks!”

“I’ve got nothing to prepare for,” Y/n glumly said. She held her chin in her hand, and glared up at Dwalin.

“Whatever do you mean?” Dwalin asked, creasing his features.

“Oh, you haven’t heard?” Y/n started, with a roll of her eyes. “Our brave and true heir to the throne apparently has a superiority complex. He has removed me from the ranks. I am not allowed to fight.”

If Dwalin was surprised, he didn’t show it. Instead, puzzling Y/n, he merely only clicked his tongue, and muttered under his breath. It sounded like something along the lines of ‘that darned boy is utterly hopeless at these sorts of things’.

Y/n tilted her head, and parted her lips. What things? What was Fili hopeless at? He was sure a lousy comrade, that much was for certain. She herself would never have chosen to spend more than five minutes with him, but alas, the journey to Erebor deemed she would do so.

Finally, recalling the woman sat beneath him, Dwalin returned his attention to her.

“I know it isn’t my place to question our leaders’ authority,” he began, sighing, at the thought of Thorin, “but, I think you’ll find better luck in speaking to him again.”

“Shouting, you mean,” Y/n knowingly corrected.

“Aye, that’ll work too,” he mulled.

Smiling through a quick huff, Y/n dropped her eyes to the ground. She definitely had a lot of pent-up anger, so even if she couldn’t take it out onto the battlefield, she knew Fili would do just fine. After all, he was the reason she was so furious in the first place.

“You’re right,” she sighed, standing to her feet. “I’m going to go give him a piece of my mind!”

As she sauntered past, with squared shoulders, a set jaw and burning eyes, Dwalin chuckled, and responded aloud.

“Good luck...”

~ Fili was located in the armoury, and fiddled with the drawstring of his armour. Without so much as announcing herself, Y/n filed into the room.

“I have a bone to pick with you!” she seethed, marching on over to him. “How dare you take me out of this fight! I am warrior, just as much as the rest of you! You may be the future king, but you aren’t one yet! I demand a reconsideration!”

He was startled, but only for a minute. By the time she stood before him, he had regained his ever-cool composure.

Pretending to think, Fili hummed. He then smiled back down at her, but in a very smug way.

“Okay, I’ve reconsidered,” he said, earning a slight glimmer of hope from the woman, “and the answer is still no.”

Growling, she pushed his chest backwards. She spoke with much fury, which did nothing to unnerve the Dwarf.

“How dare you!” she shouted again, with anger written all over her face. “Why? WHY? Why must you always be like this? You treat me the way the men from certain human dwellings treat their spouses – like nothing more than little housewives!”

Fili blushed at this. Did she not hear her own words? Oh, if only she knew how close her accusations were. Of course, he didn’t do this for any narcissism. No, Fili did this for reasons he thought Y/n surely must have already known.

Kili told him how to acquire a woman’s heart – ‘they like it when you’re mean to them, sends their hormones haywire’, Kili had said one day.

Perhaps his little brother was wrong, though? Y/n certainly didn’t hold love in her eyes. Instead, she revered him in disdain. That was not what he wanted.

“You do not know of what you speak of,” Fili warned, raising his brows in gesture.

“Oh? Then perhaps you’d like to clarify for me? Because I’m lost,” Y/n seethed again. She folded her arms over her chest, and quirked a brow.

Fili was at a loss himself. He stammered over his words, before he realized none could form, and sighed.

Dissatisfied with his lack of response, Y/n flared her nostrils. She bared her teeth, and began shouting again. If he would not answer, then she would fill the silence.

“Why do you say nothing?” she began, revving up in her tone, which only hastened Fili’s heart, with every passing second. “Why? Why do you treat me so poorly? Why am I to be sidelined, when all my friends must fight?”

“It simply has to be this way,” Fili said at last, shaking his head at the ground.

“Why, though?” she tried again.

“Because, I said so,” Fili once more said, feeling his own anger boil.

“Yes, but why?”

“Because, I said so,” he growled again.

“But WHY?”

“Oh, for the love of Durin, because I LOVE YOU!”

“Yes, but why-“ Y/n had gone to say.

However, the moment his words met her mind, she halted. What had he just said? Surely her ears deceived her?

“What?” she next quietly whispered.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, and studied her nervously. Well, there was no turning back now.

“The reason I do not wish for you to be on the battlefield,” he slowly began explaining, “is because I care, very deeply, for you, Y/n. I wouldn’t want to see you hurt.”

A pregnant pause ensued.

Oh.

Oh dear.

Pursing her parted lips, it was now Y/n’s turn to stutter and stammer. However, when no words of her own would form, she closed her mouth.

She stared at the ground for a moment in thought. Fili picked at his drawstring faster, for he figured she would now reject him.

Dammit, Kili, he thought. He knew he should not have taken his little brother’s relationship advice. That darned brunette couldn’t even grow a beard!

Lost in his seething thoughts regarding Kili, Fili was startled, as Y/n spoke again.

“Well…that certainly places things in a different perspective,” she said at last.

“A good perspective? Or a bad one?” Fili bemusedly pressed.

“That depends,” Y/n shrugged, “I wouldn’t wish to court someone who taunts and belittles my skills as a warrior.”

“I never meant to do such a thing,” Fili apologised, shaking his head. “I merely only want you safe, and as for the taunting, well…let’s just say Kili gives terrible advice.”

Unsatisfied with his lack of accountability, Y/n quirked a brow. Noticing this, Fili sighed again. He slumped his shoulders, and pressed on.

“And…let’s also just say, for argument’s sake, that I’m quite stupid?” he tried.

This gently extracted a bright grin from Y/n.

“Aye, that works better,” she warmly remarked.

Both then laughed, and reduced the bubbling tension in the room, to nothing but mist. Catching the other’s eye, both slowly died down. Y/n saw Fili in a new light – someone worthy of her consideration. Of course, Fili would still have to work for her approval, nonetheless.

“I’ll tell you what,” she began, “I’ll consider removing the layers in my heart, as to search for what I really feel towards you, if you allow me in this fight. I’ll have no such partner denying me the thrill of a battle.”

“Aye, you certainly love fighting…” Fili sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Indeed, and I’d urge you to make haste and find an answer, before you earn yourself another one,” she sassed.

Unable to fight the grin over her attitude, one he knew certainly couldn’t be missed in their ranks on the battlefield, Fili responded.

“Very well,” he said at last, “I will…step aside, although, let it be known that it deeply irks me!”

Rising up on her tiptoes, Y/n planted a swift kiss to his cheek. Fili then turned five shades deeper, and felt his mind burn into nothing but revving sparks.

“Good choice,” she commended. She then made a move to string up his armour, and spoke again. “Now, how would you like to assist me with putting my own armour on?”

[starcloud-nova]

Favorite fics by some of your buddies on Tumblr and Discord?

God nonnie. You fucked up big time. You underestimated just how hard I can appreciate my friends. I’d like to formally apologize for how long and in-depth this got, but I would pick a stopping point and then go ‘oh! but i cant leave out so-and-so’ and then this got mega out of hand.

Organized by author and not genre! And if I didn’t include any of your works (or I did and it was not the one you wanted), please, don’t take it personally. I am trusting everyone who comes across this post to read the tags themselves, but for two of the fics I have left TWs in front of them.

Cassia’s fics:

Internet Enemies by @cassiopeia721 (x)

At school, Midoriya Izuku is ignored at best. At home, he's raised by a single mother who seems to be always taking night shifts, and who he communicates with almost exclusively through notes on lunch boxes and texts lying about his location. As such, Midoriya Izuku turns to the internet— or more specifically, an All Might fan server on discord— for companionship. Like most things in his life, it goes wrong eventually. It just takes longer than usual.

hypnic jump

Izuku finds himself somewhere he doesn't recognize in an oversized green jumpsuit with a hero he's never seen at his back. He's pretty sure he's dreaming, and subsequent events only solidify that theory into rock-solid certainty.

Paradigm Shift (Harry Potter)

Harry undergoes a paradigm shift at the beginning of his fifth year. (Slytherin Harry)

~~~

Kestrel’s fics:

Compass by @autisticmidoriyas (x)

Midoriya Izuku never had the chance to become a hero—or even to grow up. Fifteen years after his death, Akatani Izuku tries to save the life of a dying hero and in return receives a target painted on his back and a power humming in his bones.

All Might, Sir Nighteye, Ground Zero, Suneater, and Skyquake are left scrambling in the wake of Lemillion’s death to figure out who now holds One For All.

Intertwined with all this, the League of Villains’ war against Japan burns on. With the loss of Lemillion, the advantage is now theirs, and with the loss of One For All, victory is all-but-assured.

(What the villains don’t know is that One For All lives on in the blood of a boy who was always meant to be a hero.)

triskelion

A few seconds, and their lives—their life—is changed forever. Where three people used to exist, there is now only one.

While visiting the mall with their class, Izuku, Katsuki, and Shouto are the victims of someone whose quirk can fuse together objects … and people.

Permanently.

Facing down the fact that they may never be unfused, a long adjustment period lies ahead of them as they learn how to be themself and figure out where they fit into their families, their class, and their world.

the meaning of hope

One day, the smoke will reach its end. They hold out hope for that. Even with quirks, fires cannot burn forever. They will consume all their fuel, until there is nothing left, and they will wither and die.

~~~

Lilly’s fics:

Rise of the Rat Finks by Authoress_Lilly

“You're not in trouble Neito. You’ve been tapped to join The Rats.”

The boy blinks. “The what?”

Vlad opens up a folder and hands Monoma a flyer and a small pin in the shape of a rat. “It’s a sort of secret society here at UA.

Or: an excuse to put Monoma and Midoriya together in way too many words 😅

The Root to Villainy

Prompt: Izuku doesn't realize how fucked up his past was until Aizawa does an immersive class on villain origins.

Whoops?

~~~

Dance’s fics:

Never Take Your Problem Children To Costco by DanceInTheKitchen

“SECURE THE EGGS! I REPEAT SECURE THE EGGS!” Bakugou bellowed.

“YES SIR! AYE AYE SIR!” Izuku saluted.

Shouta is staring at his students, one of whom seems to be reenacting the Lion King with a carton of eggs while the other salutes him, and wonders. What the hell did he do in his past life to deserve this?? Past him must have committed some great sin, like putting sugar in his coffee, or being a dog person.

 Or, Aizawa, Bakugou and Midoriya walk into a Costco.

grow as we go

The dorms were silent, but out here in the open air, she felt both isolated and free. Isolated from the world, but free from the responsibility crushing her, isolated from her friends and family, but free from judgement. Up here, with only the stars and Iida as company, Momo felt like she could breathe.

They sat next to each other in silence, watching the stars silently crawl their way across the sky. Iida doesn’t break the silence, but he also doesn’t leave. It’s a silent promise, to listen if she needs it, or to keep her company if she doesn’t want to speak. It’s comforting.

She’s not sure when she speaks, it’s somewhere between staring up at the stars, and looking at the shiny dew covering the grass of the hills behind UA.

“I’m not ready.”

 Or, with graduation right around the corner, Momo has a conversation with Iida about what growing up means.

~~~

Azure’s fics:

A Helping Hand for All by azureskyy

Izuku doesn't know why everyone's talking about a certain hero analyst online. He's tried browsing through the forums and other sites, but he just can't find the person they're talking about.

Maybe he'll ask them later. For now, he has some analysis to do.

Or: Izuku is a well-known hero and quirk analyst across multiple social media platforms.

Not that he's aware of it, of course.

A Missed Chance

Two paths cross then diverge. In another universe, perhaps, they could have walked on the same path; they could have talked for the second time that day, and Izuku could have been given an opportunity that could change his entire life. And maybe, just maybe, he would have taken it.

But this isn’t that universe.

Or: What if All Might wasn't able to find Izuku after the Sludge Villain Incident?

~~~

Alice’s fics:

A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by @makeitbluue (x)

“Did you think you’d be safe from me forever? That you could chip away at my power base and I would not care or try to hunt you down?” The man asks as he steps forwards.

Izuku scrambles backwards in his bed, searching the covers as he goes for his phone. If he can get a text off to All Might or Aizawa-sensei he can alert people to the potential danger.

But even as he moves, something in the back of his mind tells him he had heard this voice before. A different time, a different context, but the same voice.

~~~

Ely’s fics:

bend and break by @queenangst (x)

In a world where you can feel your soulmate's pain, Eijirou spends a lot of his life up until meeting his soulmate hurting.

draw and quarter

In District Twelve, no one volunteers.

When Aizawa Shouta’s name is called, no one says a word. He stands there for a moment, feeling all the world slow around him, and then he straightens his shoulders and walks to his death.

He will die fighting. At the very least, Shouta can promise that.

Shouta's name is drawn for the Hunger Games, alongside Shirakumo Oboro. No one from their district has ever won.

damage control

After All for One's defeat, Aizawa Shouta is grasping for ways to protect his students. At the same time, a discrepancy in Midoriya's behavior leads Shouta down a dangerous line of investigation and to a single question: if Midoriya is the U.A. traitor.

Between the Wind and the Water

Staying at U.A. for winter break, Izuku hopes it'll be a quiet chance to spend the holidays with Todoroki and supervising teachers All Might and Aizawa-sensei.

It's just his luck a gift-shopping trip turns into a gift from a villain, and Izuku's new Half-Cold, Half-Hot Quirk is not so easy to control. Neither are the secrets he's been carefully keeping.

a glimpse of tomorrow (looking back)

Subject: Aldera Time Capsule Ceremony Forwarded Message— This year marks ten years for the Aldera Middle School graduating class of 20XX.To celebrate, we would like to invite pro heroes Kingpin and Deku, Aldera alumni, to participate in a public time-capsule opening. We are incredibly proud to have helped them on their journeys to becoming heroes, and would be most honored to receive them as guests and for them to speak at the ceremony. [...]

"Well," Deku says, leaning over to turn the monitor towards him. His eyes flick over the contents of the email one more time. "If they haven't changed, then I guess we could return the favor."

Ten years down the line, Bakugou and Midoriya are invited to a time capsule ceremony at their middle school to read letters from their past selves, and look back on their past and how it shaped their future. For anyone else, it would have been a celebration.

For the two of them, it's an opportunity.

A look into Bakugou and Midoriya's past—through a future neither of them imagined—as pro heroes, agency partners, and friends.

of the mighty heart

It was just complicated. Kacchan had changed. Izuku had changed. What was between them was constant—Kacchan was always there—but even constants, Izuku supposed, could change, too.

...You saved me, sometimes you say Deku and it doesn’t sound so much like an insult, you say it like you mean it, you say it like you mean me.

After the war ends and the dust settles, Izuku is left in pain and feeling useless. There's still so much to do and people to save, and it's just... too much for one person.

And then there's Kacchan.

~~~

Fawn’s fics:

Bough Breaks by @fawnvelveteen (x) (trigger warning for discussion of rape/noncon)

In life, nothing is certain. Pro-heroes aren’t always the good guys. Children are not spared from the darkest realms of humanity. Izuku isn't acting like his normal self at school lately, and his homeroom teacher has taken notice. After learning about the mother’s new, unwelcomed boyfriend, Aizawa’s concern shifts into dread. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep his student away from harm.

Almost Moon (trigger warning for suicide) (Black Clover)

It was always at night. One of Noelle's squadmates, apparently, believes it's a good idea to walk across the rooftop, directly over her head while she is trying to get some sleep. Finally, she decides to confront the nighttime nuisance. What she discovers is something she never expected, nor did she wish to see.

~~~

Nez’s fics:

The True Successor by @neko-nez (x)

Toshinori is caught in a time loop.

~~~

Aodh’s fics:

new game + (the pros of being over-leveled, the catharsis of finally beating That One Boss, and a bonus social link) by @takeyamayuu (x)

Izuku hasn’t been noticed yet, being as far from the fight as he is. Or if he has, they’re dismissing him in favor of the larger threat of Aizawa-sensei. As they should, since he takes out the last one with a well placed kick, turning to face Shigaraki,

Izuku tenses, this is-

This is where his teacher’s arm is injured and then-

The Nomu.

One for All spikes to around fifty percent, his muscles stinging, bones creaking as Izuku darts forward, aiming for Shigaraki’s head with an axe-kick.

Second year Midoriya Izuku gets hit with a Quirk, skids into the USJ, and learns a little about self-care along the way.

~~~

Ghost’s fics:

fingerpaint bruises and a kick in the teeth by @ghoststrawberries (x)

There’s a sour taste in Shouta’s mouth as he stares at Jackrabbit’s bright smile. The smile he’s wearing in every clear photo of him. It somewhat reminds Shouta of All Might’s smile.

Jackrabbit might be a menace to the Commission, but there’s no way Shouta can believe that a man with that smile is anything less than good to his core.

“And I’m your last resort to handle this quietly.” He says knowingly, keeping his thoughts to himself.

“Precisely.”

Shouta’s gut response is to refuse.

The words “I don’t kill.” are halfway up his throat before they become stuck.

As an underground hero, sometimes Shouta Aizawa is called upon to do darker jobs than one might expect a hero to have to do. This time, when he's tasked with taking out a vigilante who's managed to bother the Hero Public Safety Commission one too many times, he's not sure he'll be able to follow through.

~~~

Amira’s fics:

And Now I See Daylight by @awake-my-oceans (x)

AnalysisOverload Current mood: HERO CON HERO CON HERO CON HERO CON

AnalysisOverload reblogged AnalysisOverload  Okay, let’s talk HeroCon. 

Look around, and you’ll see a lot of discrimination—against people whose Quirk is debilitating, against people whose Quirks scare us, against people who have trouble controlling their Quirk, against people who don’t have a Quirk at all. It’s easy to feel alone in a sea of discrimination.

Enter HeroCon:X.

A social media fic following Deku post-graduation.

The chaotic neutral’s guide to time travel

“You claim you are from the future,” Nedzu said, hopping onto his desk. “Do you have anything to prove this?”

Hitoshi fished around in his pocket. “Here’s my hero license,” he said, holding it up.

Nedzu opened his mouth, but Hitoshi kept right on going, producing a handful of odds and ends from his pocket. “Also a movie ticket, some dryer lint, some, uh, didn’t know I still had that but it’s old gum—“

That was when Aizawa walked in, capture weapon floating around him. “What’s the emergency?” he asked, clipped, as he kicked open the door.

“—and the left arm of a Deku plushie,” Hitoshi finished, unruffled. “My cat ate the rest.”

~~~

Aaaaaand that’s all I got. Thanks for making it to the end!

[nikkoliferous]

Phase One: Avengers (Part Two)

Apparently I had so much to comment on this crappy book that I had to break this up into two parts (you can read part one here). No, I have nothing to say for myself. Lol

Let’s continue.

Clint Barton and Loki’s hand-picked strike team were in a stolen Quinjet with a faked S.H.I.E.L.D. call sign, 26-Bravo. That got them close enough that by the time the air-traffic officer on the Helicarrier knew something was wrong, it was already too late.

Whoa whoa whoa. I thought you said Loki didn’t care about the details. I thought you said such things were beneath him. Make up your mind.

With a last heave and twist, she freed herself from the fallen beam and ran. At that moment, the Hulk turned and saw her. She vaulted up a stairway and onto the next level. The Hulk swiped at the stairway and shredded it into scrap metal. Loki had gotten what he wanted. He must have been trying to time it so he could manipulate Bruce into becoming the Hulk right as his soldiers came to attack the Helicarrier. The Hulk would do at least as much damage from the inside as the rogue Quinjet could do from the outside.

Yes. Yes, he did. Lol

Natasha kept running, and the Hulk came right behind her. For a moment, she thought she’d lost him, but then he came at her out of the shadows, roaring. He was like walking rage, a single-minded engine of destruction. She shot a hole in the pipe over his head. Steam shot out of it into the Hulk’s eyes, stopping him for just the moment she needed to get a head start. She ran as fast as she could, but she knew she wasn’t going to stay away from him for long. He came after her, smashing through bulkheads and doorways like they weren’t even there and roaring the whole time.

Mood, though.

Steve got to the edge of the turbine mount about the same time as Tony. “I’m here!” he called out.

“Good,” Tony said, dropping into view and hovering in the Iron Man armor to survey the wreckage. He had the suit on, and Steve could hear his voice through the earbud microphone all S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel wore. At least that channel was still intact; if they lost communications, they’d be done for.

Convenient. Clint would absolutely know this, which means either 1) he's incompetent, 2) he's not as mind-controlled as we think, or 3) Loki allowed/arranged for his own team's semi-failure.Take your pick.

“What’s it look like in there?” Tony asked.

“It seems to run on some form of electricity,” Steve said.

Tony was shoving loose huge pieces of debris that prevented the turbine blades from rotating. “Well, you’re not wrong,” he said.

Steve fumed. He wasn’t here for technical support. But that was all he could do at the moment.

Ironic for Steve to call out Tony for being useless without his suit when Steve is apparently useless at anything other than beating people up. Lol

Tony stood inside the turbine housing, looking at the blades. He’d cleared most of the debris jamming the rotors. “Even if I clear the rotors,” he said, “this thing won’t reengage without a jump. I’m going to have to get in there and push.”

“If that thing gets up to speed, you’ll get shredded,” Steve said.

Hey hey hey now, I thought Tony wasn't the type of guy to sacrifice himself??

The Hulk stomped around the flight deck, roaring. He saw Thor and swung a fist twice the size of Thor’s head. Thor caught it in both hands, straining to hold both the Hulk’s arm and his attention. “We are not your enemies, Banner,” he grunted. “Try to think!”

Now, where have I heard that before...?

In answer, the Hulk punched him through the wall.

Jealous.

Thor got up and watched the Hulk coming after him. Now this was a fight! He held out a hand, waiting for Mjolnir to return to him. Mjolnir smashed through another wall and reached Thor’s hand just as the charging Hulk came within striking distance.

What's a little bloodlust between friends, amirite?

The Hulk caught the hammer, and a fierce grin spread over his face… then he toppled backward and Mjolnir pinned him to the floor of the hangar.

None but I can lift Mjolnir, Thor thought. Not even this giant.

Yes, yes. You're very special, Thor. We're all super impressed, promise.

“You like this?” Coulson asked, meaning the gun. “We started working on the prototype after you sent the Destroyer. Even I don’t know what it does.” He powered it up, and rings along its barrel glowed bright orange. “Want to find out?”

But Loki wasn’t there in front of him. Thor saw it too late to do anything. That Loki was an illusion… and the real Loki was behind Coulson.

Lokiception.

“You lack conviction,” Coulson said. He did not move from where he sat against the wall. Blood trickled at the corner of his mouth, and the enormous gun lay uselessly across his lap.

Of all the things Coulson might have said, this was perhaps the one Loki expected least. I have moved worlds out of conviction, he thought. Made bargains with beings who snuff out planets as an afterthought. “I don’t think I…”

"bargains"

“Tasha,” he said. “How many agents did I—?”

“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t do that to yourself, Clint. This is Loki. This is monsters and magic and nothing we were ever trained for.” Better than maybe anyone on the Helicarrier, Natasha Romanoff knew you couldn’t blame yourself for things you did while you were brainwashed. All you could do was try to heal and get things right the next time.

OH? DO TELL.

“Yeah, takes us a while to get any traction, I’ll give you that one,” Tony said. “But let’s do a head count here. Your brother the demigod, a Super-Soldier, a living legend who kind of lives up to the legend, a man with breathtaking anger-management issues, a couple of master assassins… and you, big fella, you’ve managed to piss off every single one of them.”

“That was the plan,” Loki said with a grin.

“Not a great plan,” Tony said.

YOU'RE RIGHT, TONY. IT'S AN OBJECTIVELY TERRIBLE PLAN. NOW ASK YOURSELF WHY HE WOULD DO THAT ON PURPOSE.

“You’re missing the point!” he said, and his tone got sharper. “There’s no throne, there is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes and maybe it’s too much for us… but it’s all on you. Because if we can’t protect the Earth, you can be sure we’ll avenge it.”

Weeeeeell...

With those last words, he tapped Tony on the chest with his scepter, just has he had Hawkeye and Dr. Selvig. Nothing happened. The Arc Reactor in Tony’s chest countered the scepter’s effect.

Loki tried it again. “This usually works.…”

“Well,” Tony said, “best-laid plans. You know the saying.”

Uncomfortable with mild swear words and dick jokes, I see. Lol

Look at this!” Thor shouted, holding Loki and forcing him to gaze out over the destruction in the city. “You think this madness will end with your rule?”

“It’s too late,” Loki said. Thor thought he was beginning to understand what he had done. “It’s too late to stop it.”

“No,” Thor said. “We can. Together.”

Loki looked him in the eye… and then betrayed Thor again, stabbing him in the side with a knife hidden in his sleeve. Thor dropped to the ground, clutching the wound. “Sentiment,” Loki said mockingly.

OH MY GOD. HE'S MOCKING HIMSELF, YOU ABSOLUTE KNUCKLEHEAD. I swear to god, this author sat down and went, "Hmm. How can I systematically erase any and all complexity this character possesses so he's as generic a villain as possible?"

CASE IN POINT:

On a bridge, Cap huddled behind a destroyed car with the Black Widow and Hawkeye. “Lots of civilians trapped up there,” Hawkeye said, indicating the nearby buildings. A flight of Chitauri went over, and Cap noticed something different about one of them.

“Loki,” he said. He was shooting at the civilians fleeing through the streets. “They’re fish in a barrel down there.”

It can be admittedly hard to tell because most shots of the Chitauri vehicles firing on people are from too far away to tell who's piloting... but I checked the clips from the Battle of NY and the only person Loki can definitively be seen firing at is Natasha. On another Chitauri whatever-you-call-them. Not even aiming for the street.

Thor was still watching the Chitauri zipping overhead. “I have unfinished business with Loki.”

“Yeah?” Hawkeye said. “Get in line.”

“Save it,” Steve said. “Loki’s going to keep this fight focused on us, and that’s what we need. Otherwise those things could run wild. We’ve got Stark up on top—”

Almost as if... according to plan...

Look, I have historically not bought into the full "Loki formed the Avengers so he could lose on purpose" theory because I feel that it contradicts the canon explanation that he was being influenced by the sceptre. But... you'd have to be an absolute moron to think he wasn't sabotaging himself, whether accidentally or on purpose. I suppose one could argue that just because it was amplifying his negative emotions, that doesn't necessarily mean it prevented him from working against his "allies". But if it wasn't affecting his actions at all, I don't know why they'd bother to confirm the theory as canon.

Also, like... according to this book, Loki is somehow targeting civilians and not targeting civilians at the same time ?? lmao

“Dr. Banner,” Steve said. “Now might be a really good time for you to get angry.”

Bruce was already walking toward the Leviathan. “That’s my secret, Captain,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m always angry.”

Same, tbh.

Thor reached the top of the Empire State Building and lifted Mjolnir. Storm clouds gathered and lightning struck down, hundreds of bolts reaching for Mjolnir. Thor turned the Empire State Building’s iconic spire into a lightning rod, gathering the force of the elements into it. Then he thrust Mjolnir in the direction of the portal. All the energy he had built up blazed out in a single forking bolt. It struck and destroyed every single Chitauri between the Empire State Building and the portal itself. Hundreds of them exploded and tumbled from the sky at once, including several of the Leviathans that tumbled down to smash into buildings below.

...so why didn't Thor just keep doing this for the rest of the battle? Too draining, or not exciting enough? Lol

Satisfied, Thor nodded and glanced over at the Hulk. Perhaps the scales were evened from their last fight against each other on the Helicarrier—

The Hulk shot out his left fist and smashed Thor all the way across the block-long gallery. Then it was his turn to look satisfied.

Jealous. Again.

Maybe that was just Loki, but Steve was starting to feel like the Chitauri were going to absorb every punch the Avengers could throw. They had to close that portal, or nothing was going to stop the invasion.

Well then. It sure is fortunate that Loki allowed Selvig to install a failsafe, huh?

Fury stood and listened to the World Security Council explain that they had decided to take the operation out of his hands. They were going to use a nuclear missile to destroy the Tesseract and close the portal—but at the cost of untold civilian lives. Fury protested as strongly as he could and one of the councilors cut him off. “Director Fury. The Council has made a decision.”

These crazy motherfuckers would have killed so many more people than Loki it's not even funny.

...and tbh, it probably wouldn't even have destroyed the Tesseract, so they would have killed them for literally no reason too.

The Hulk paused, confused.

“You are, all of you, beneath me!” Loki raged.

Not yet, sir, but I would very much like to be. 😏

She knelt next to him and said, “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know what you were doing.”

Selvig digested this for a moment and then said, “Actually I think I did. I built in a safety to cut the power source.”

Of note and as alluded to previously:

1) The mind control over Barton and Selvig was not absolute either; therefore, if they are not responsible for their actions over the course of this movie, Loki is not responsible for his either.

2) If The Other could hear everything Loki was up to, it's very likely that Loki could hear everything Barton and Selvig were up to as well. Meaning that, at a minimum, he knew about the failsafe and did nothing about it.

The missile had a lot of momentum built up, and Tony’s Mark 7 suit was not operating at full capacity after the amount of energy he’d expended in the battle already. It was no easy task to get the missile angled up sharply enough to clear the tallest buildings in Midtown—especially Stark Tower. That was where the missile seemed to want to go. So, Tony thought, the World Security Council is jealous of me, too.

Look, I get that he's mostly just being witty, but seriously... this dude is out here accusing Loki of being an egomaniac? Lol

He got underneath the missile and angled it upward, straining against its stabilizers, which tried to keep it on course. But slowly he forced it up, and once he got its warhead pointed at an angle, pushing it into a steeper climb got easier. A little.

Steve Rogers’s voice broke his concentration. “Stark, you know that’s a one-way trip?”

So... you're admitting you were wrong, then? 🙃

The Avengers looked up. On the roof of Stark Tower, Natasha said, “Come on, Stark.”

They saw the explosion through the portal, brilliant as a new sun. There was no way Tony could have survived that.

I was wrong about him, Steve thought. When the time came, he did make the sacrificial play.

Thanks, Steve. That's really all I wanted.

Loki had just gotten himself put back together enough to get out of the hole in the floor. Painfully he dragged himself toward the door. Never had a mortal damaged him as much as that green monster. He would be healing for a long time.

He's literally in better shape now than when he came through the portal. And the author made zero mention of his health there.

But heal he would, and then he would have his revenge. Even though the portal had collapsed and he had lost the Tesseract. Even though his Chitauri army was destroyed. Loki would show the so-called Avengers they never should have opposed him.

Raise your hand if you watched Avengers and thought Loki was thinking about revenge right after getting Hulk-smashed. Why aren't any of you raising your hands??

Seriously, there are two emotions I felt from Loki at the end of Avengers Assemble: relief and anxiety. I have no idea why Alex Irvine is so intent on turning him into a boring, one-dimensional villain, but it made this book absolutely insufferable to read.

Anyway, that's it! I hope you all found this as entertaining and cathartic as I did. Lol

↩️ Back to Part One

[fitzefitcher]

faction conflict soapbox, pt. 1

okay so it seems like for the most part, there are a couple consistent schools of thought here:

school 1: I'm tired of the Horde being the Bad Guy 24/7

school 2: I'm tired of faction conflict, in general

school 3: Really Deeply wish that the Alliance's crimes would actually be Addressed, At All

school 4: Nuanced Wild Card:tm: opinions that I'll have to tackle individually lmao

so let's get started, obviously this is going to be a long-ass post, so I'm going to preemptively break up my answers to these into separate posts, for readability and also for my own sanity lmao. this will be under my essay tag but also the tag faction conflict soapbox, for blacklisting reasons.

school 1: I'm Tired of the Horde being the Bad Guy 24/7

@lokaror: i dont tend to have much of it these days. But i hate the "Horde is always the bad guy" stuff. When faction war happens its rarely with too much nuance on either side. The group that is primarily outcasts banding together seemingly always having the bad apples chafes too. But i also see from alliance side that it can be just as raw the other way.

The alliance sprang up out of need to for mutual defense, and the horde is the horde because they also need mutual aid and defence. We can't really put too much real world ideals to either, but at its core its always a tinder that can be lit. No way around that.

@chryseis: Long time blood elf player! I still love the horde (even though most of my favourite lore characters are alliance lol) because it feels like more of a community than the alliance with their high king. However I'm getting super sick of the horde always being the bad guy, and the fact that blizz has used the same evil warchief plot twice! Having said that, some of my worst/funniest online interactions have been with men on twitter who play alliance and genuinely (1/2)

Believe that anyone who plays horde is a terrible war criminal and not someone playing a computer game lmao (2/2)

@arkhamarchitecture​:  Feels a lot like Blizzard can't resist making the Horde the villains and even when the Alliance does wrong, it gets written off and excused, like they're not allowed to be the bad guys. Which in turn makes a lot of Alliance players treat the Horde like Blizzard is biased in our favor just because the story is always about us? Even though the story is about our side apparently being full of godawful people? It's really infuriating.

I think a core issue w this is the way that the game often presents the Horde and its various characters without the same empathy that it gives to its Alliance characters (note I said "empathy" and not "nuance" or "character development," we'll get back to that later), so it's not that horde people are incapable of inspiring empathy or aren't empathetic themselves, clearly they are and have evoked that reaction enough from players to arrive at this conclusion, it's that the same sort of steps taken with portraying alliance characters aren't taken with horde characters. like, I've already covered this a bit in my sylvanas essay, but like, we're not really given any opportunity to understand what's going on inside her head, so the actions she takes feel nonsensical, unecessary, or even needlessly cruel, and seemingly as players interacting with this game we have to make a lot of extra effort in order to even attempt to understand it. like, example, the "before the storm" novel portrays her as this horrible, conniving, manipulative Evil Dictator, for not wanting to share vital information about azerite with a faction whose leader has effectively done nothing to curb the warmongering tendencies of its other leaders, when in fact, it's very understandable why she wouldn't wanna do this. But again, the author (Christie Golden, bc of course it is) very explicitly portrays her as Bad Bad Evil Zombie Lady for Daring to think that they can't trust the same faction that seems to take issue with the mere concept of the horde having the Audacity of thinking they Deserve to Live lmao. Like, clearly this is Happening, but's never talked about or formally addressed.

likewise, with Garrosh, our other Bad Bad Evil Dictator Warchief, despite all the weird, wretched, horrible shit he was doing, it unfortunately makes a really terrible kind of sense if examined further.

why did he turn away from the horde leaders? because they had all uniformly rejected him from the getgo. cairne said he'd never accept him, vol'jin said he'd kill him, sylvanas made it clear she would never respect his authority. all before he'd done a single solitary thing as warchief.

why did he turn to war so quickly and so strongly? because nothing else was working. thrall's horde had tried diplomacy for years, and it amounted to nothing, because no matter what he did, no matter how far the horde ran from the eastern kingdoms, the alliances wouldn't stop chasing them and trying to kill them. the alliance would never see them as actual people, they'd only ever see them as twisted monsters and bloodthirsty, mindless beasts.

why did he turn to such violent, inhumane methods? bc the entirety of his first real brush with warfare was in northrend, against the scourge, an enemy that will keep getting up again and again and again until they're utterly annihilated. and before that, all his experiences with conflict were with demons, who were similarly impossible to kill.

like, obviously none of these reasons make it okay for him to do what he had done. just because something is understandable, doesn't mean it's acceptable. but it's never portrayed as understandable. it's never addressed, at all. there is no nuance attached to any of his actions- it is only ever portrayed as Evil, as Manipulative and Conniving and Violent and Warmongering, even though there is a whole slew of reasons for how and why we got here. there is no emotionality, there is only cruelty.

edit: whoops, forgot a relevant ask. added now.

[fxndom-hoe]

So I was reading a ScreenRant article about what BBC Merlin got right about the stories and what it got wrong, but some of their explanations about the show were wrong and it was starting to annoy me. So I decided to hash it out here on tumblr and have my piece. And so that means you all are forced to hear me rant about some dumb article from the internet (or you can ignore me, I’m not the boss of you 😂).

Anyway, here's:

(I’m not gonna go through all the points, just the one’s I feel they got totally wrong.)

(Also, I’m going to try to keep this as unshippy as possible, but my own interpretations of the show are probably going to come out.)

WARNING: MENTION OF R*PE FROM SOURCE MATERIAL. ALSO, SPOILERS!!!

Ok so maybe this is my own opinion (like this whole post is going to be) but Merlin is technically a teacher. Not in the sense that Gaius is, not in the traditional “here, read this book for a lesson” sort of teacher, but he has actively tried to teach Arthur right from wrong during some instances where the royals were being stupid. Especially when Uther was trying to influence Arthur to do something that he thought was right (but since we know Uther, it was usually (always) actually wrong). Merlin was there to tell Arthur that his father was wrong, and in a way, that’s teaching/being a teacher.

Also, Merlin not being a lover is really a matter of opinion. He may not have had many actual romantic relationships canonically, but that isn’t what defines a “ladies man.” He’s attracted lots of women (and women). “Seen as inferior” my ass. In season one, Gwen had a major crush on him. In season five, Merlin had a slight flirtation with Sefa, even if that didn’t really last long. Throughout the series, we see the sexual tension between Merlin and Arthur. And Gwaine fell madly in love with him since they first met. And, of course, there’s Freya, which they already implied. So just because he’s only had one on-screen relationship doesn’t mean he’s not a heartbreaker. Also, he may not have had an actual relationship with Morgana, there’s definitely some kind of tension between them after she turns evil (whether it’s sexual or just them being enemies is up to you).

This may be me being really nitpicky, but the first time we see Excalibur IS 👏 NOT 👏 WITH 👏 FREYA 👏 This is the part that made me want to make this post. MERLIN 👏 DID 👏 NOT 👏 GET 👏 EXCALIBUR 👏 FROM 👏 FREYA 👏 Like, did the writer of this article even watch the show??? The episode where we see Excalibur for the first time is LITERALLY CALLED “EXCALIBUR!!!” And in the episode, it shows Excalibur being made when Kilgharrah BREATHED ON IT!!! Like, I don’t mean to be rude to the author, but you literally just had to watch the show one (1) time to know this. Maybe don’t write an article about a show you’ve never watched?? (Again, I really don’t wanna be rude, but this really rubbed me the wrong way.)

Again, I’m probably nitpicking, but wasn’t that the point of the show? Like, “Here’s the story of King Arthur except Merlin’s a twenty year old twink instead.” ? I mean, this really wasn’t all that big of a deal, but I need content and I had an opinion on this, so I’m sharing it. 

I mean, for the most part, this is right. We got the whole love triangle thing going on between these three. We got the tasteless “Lancelot du Lac” episode, which I just... we’re not going to talk about it.

 I think we all know, at this point, assuming we’ve all seen the posts talking/complaining about how Gwen was a princess, but instead they made her a servant. Especially because I think in the source material, Gwen was white, and when the show made her black and demoted her to a servant it was racist. Personally (and if this is racist, you guys should call me out on it), I like it because it shows a poor woman of color rising above everyone else and becoming queen, and that’s very badass of her and very empowering for WOC. (I’m not BIPOC so if I’m wrong about this, and anyone who is BIPOC found it offensive that they made Gwen a servant rather than a princess, you have every right to be.)

And now for my complaint: Gwen did actually become an antagonist for a few episodes. I mean, yes, she was technically under Morgana’s spell, so that makes her a victim more than a villain, but the storyline of Dark!Gwen makes her a temporary antagonist. So, article, you are wrong (in a way).

Ok so apparently Uther is just a despicable man no matter what story you try to tell. Just absolutely disgusting. And the fact that in the tales, Merlin actually helps Uther r*pe a woman 🤢🤮 Absolutely disgusting. 

But that's not why I’m talking about this part. The reason I bring this up is because if you watched the show, you would know that Nimueh tells Uther that they WERE FRIENDS. She wasn’t just some random sorcerer who he asked to use dark magic. She was his FRIEND who he asked for help when his wife couldn’t conceive. I think it might’ve also been implied that she was Court Sorcerer (but that might’ve just been a headcanon that I read). But either way, Uther didn’t just turn to dark magic to have a child. He asked his friend for help then betrayed her when it backfired on him.

Again, no matter what happened, Uther is just all around a terrible man.

Ok so this part I don't really have a problem with, but I am confused. I haven't read any source material, so I don’t know this for sure, but I thought Arthur did know about Merlin’s magic. Maybe not in all the tales, but is there not a single one where Arthur knows of Merlin’s abilities? Can someone who’s read up on the source material fact check this for me please. Because I thought the whole “magic is illegal so Merlin has to hide from Arthur” thing was made up for the show, but maybe I’m wrong? Someone help please, thank you! 😊 

Ooohoohoo! Again, no problem with this specifically, but I am reacting. I always thought that Merlin always played a big role in Arthur’s life (not as best friend like in the show) but like an important advisor. I thought Merlin was more than just someone who played a minor role in Arthur’s life. Like, Merlin is such a big figure in pop culture, I could never even imagine that he wasn’t that important in Arthur’s life. Is he more important in the stories than he is to Arthur himself? Is that it? How does that work? I think it might be because I’m a huge Merthur shipper (yes, I know I said I wouldn’t bring ships into this, but I had to for this one), but I really can’t imagine Merlin not being important to Arthur. I mean, I watched this three hour long movie called Merlin starring Sam Neill, and if I’m remembering that correctly, didn’t Merlin raise Arthur? I can’t really remember, but this just feels so wrong to me.

So that's the end of the screenshots, but I do want to mention that the article (which I’ll be linking in the source) talked about how a difference between the story and the show is that in the story, Merlin doesn’t have a family, and just...   HOW SAD??? That is so heartbreaking, and maybe that’s just me imagining the show’s Merlin, our sweet boy who cares about family so fucking much, without a family, and that just makes me sad. But is that true, though? Does the Merlin in the King Arthur tales NOT HAVE A FAMILY??? OOOOOFFF! That’s fuckin rough. 

All right, so this is the end, but if any of you have opinions on the article or on my own opinions, I’d love to hear them. Thanks to anyone who actually read this whole thing. It was kind of long and pointless, but some of what was mentioned brought out such STRONG EMOTIONS from me, I just had to share.

[hogwartsfirebolt]

Aaaand we’re back!!! I can’t believe it’s been a year since the last time I found myself typing one of these, but here we are, and WHAT. A. YEAR. Full of the highest ups and the lowest downs and through it all, so, so many wonderful stories that have made this my best reading year in fandom, ever. If you’re interested, in no particular order, I’d like to share some of my absolute favorites with you ❤️ Banner art is by the immensely talented @upthehillart and with nothing else to add, here’s my

FAVORITE FICS I READ IN 2019 PART ONE

1. Grounds for Divorce - @tepre - 122k - Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter. A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

This is the only thing on this list that is actually in order because DAMN. Because HOLY SHIT. This is my absolute favorite fic of all time and that’s not... I’m not exaggerating. I have INFINITE things to say about it, and actually, I have. Let me refer you to my long, gushy rec specifically about this masterpiece and just BEG you again to read it because it’s beautiful and it will change you and and and-

2. amid this warm and steady sweetness - warmfoothills - 21k - Harry is not living in a period drama, no matter what his friends or his new house or Malfoy’s sudden affinity for horse-riding might suggest, and if one more person uses the word courting, he’s going to start hexing people.

This is just beautiful. Every word feels like it’s been laid down with gentleness and the entire setting is vibrant, sweet, so lovely it’s almost palpable. I had never read anything for this pairing that was modeled after a period drama, and it was perfectly done, it made me laugh at the outfits and the teasing and the ridiculous situations all around, and go “awww” when it became sweet and now I just want to keep it close inside my heart. You simply have to read this. 

3. Star Quality - who_la_hoop - 118k - Two years after the war, and Harry’s content with his life. OK, so it’s a little annoying that he keeps winning Witch Weekly’s Most Eligible Bachelor award, and he’s really not looking forward to the unveiling of an enormous gold statue of himself, but he loves his friends, and he loves being an Auror. And if he yearns for something more, something he can barely bring himself to think about, well, he’ll probably get over it. No one’s happy all the time, are they? But then everything changes, and Harry’s thrown into a new and dazzling world he’s not sure he can actually escape from. And as time goes on, he starts to wonder: does he actually want to?

Incredibly creative and executed so masterfully that I couldn’t stop reading and finished it in a day. Features a fed up Harry (always appreciated in this house), alternate realities, concerts, retail jobs, wishes upon stars, balloons, boys not knowing how to communicate but still inevitably falling in love, and just hours and hours of FUN. 

4. And One To Play - @tackytigerfic - 21k - Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter are the best team in the Auror Department, even when they're driving Gawain Robards up the wall. When Malfoy is injured on a mission, it causes Harry's magic to go haywire. Meanwhile, a mysterious criminal is draining people's magical cores and turning them into Squibs. Can Harry stop blowing Malfoy away in time to solve the case? And will Malfoy ever stop trying to get the last word?

GUYS THEIR DYNAMIC IN THIS ONE IS JUST PERFECT. The author wrote this absolutely incredible relationship where they trust each other and have so much fun and are so perfectly attuned to each other and I just sucked it right up because it’s so good. The case is interesting and engaging, Harry’s little predicament makes such a mess, and still their dynamic and friendship is the backdrop of it all. This fic is a really, really good time all around. 

5. That Old Black Magic - @bixgirl1 - 77k - Centuries ago, marriage contracts were the norm — ready-made alliances between families, expected and complied with, without complaint. But norms have a way of changing, and when a long-dormant contract flares to life, Harry has to navigate an unexpected splintering of the path he'd thought would be easy after the war... with Draco Malfoy.

Reading this was one of the best moments of my entire year. I read it in a day, couldn’t put it down because the writing and the pacing and the dynamic are so incredibly good it blew my mind a little bit. It’s a slightly different take on the arranged marriage trope than what I was used to, and I loved it so, so much. It might be my favorite fic of Bix’s, ever. 

6. On a Clear Day - saras_girl - 41k - Draco Malfoy is waiting for his real life to begin, and it appears that he’s not the only one. Coffee, charity, and the wisdom of the elderly.

!!!!!! That’s all I can think to say!!!! In trying to read ALL of saras_girl fics I have found such ABSOLUTE GEMS and this is definitely, definitely one of the best of them in my opinion, it’s just so incredibly lovely in every way and I’m so weak for when they slowly let themselves be vulnerable with each other the more they get to know each other, and help each other be brave and !!!! again. This paints it so beautifully I just want to read it again and again. 

7. Renaissance - dysonrules - 33k - Harry awakens after a long sleep to find things terribly changed. He's not in an alternate universe... it just seems like it.

Surly, moody Harry is a weakness of mine, and the way he navigates the extremely difficult situation he finds himself in in this one was so interesting to read. I always do love Draco being capable and good at what he does, trying to become a better person through his work. A really, really good fic with fantastic characterizations and a plot that kept me on my toes the whole time. Definitely recommended. 

8. At the End of the Day - sara_holmes - 7k - No brooms, a distinct lack of balls, no comprehension of the offside rule and a Malfoy who apparently has magic feet. Harry never knew this stupid game could be so much fun.

This fic is so light, so lovely and young that I went back to it over and over again during the year. It carries that feeling of tentative new beginnings, letting go and reconnecting with those around you after going through terrible things, all of that in a way that never loses sight of the fact that they’re still teenagers and still deserve some fun and light in their lives. So, so cute.

9. take my hand once more - @candybarrnerd - 8k - Harry finds himself standing in front of the door to the Room of Requirement with no memory of having walked there or having walked past the required three times either.-Everything feels like it's falling apart, his second marriage is failing, and he would actually kill for a decent nights sleep, which must be why the Room of Requirement provides him with the solution of a bed when Harry steps through the door. When he wakes though, he finds it's so much more.

Oh god I ache just remembering this. It’s so, so good. Every word paints every feeling so effectively that I felt it etched into my chest and all of Harry’s love for Draco was mine and his sorrow was mine and what he felt after the Room of Requirement gives him what he needs is what I felt too and I was just broken and repaired completely in 8k words in the best way ever. You MUST read this now. 

10. Eternally Consistent - @alychelms - 44k - Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter assumed they would never be anything but civil enemies, until Potter lands on Malfoy's doorstep, bleeding, covered in curses, and acting very strangely indeed.

THIS IS EXCELLENT, REMARKABLE, EXTRAORDINARY!!! Omg every word, I swear every word had me on the edge of my seat and you see that time turner tag? Do you see it? It’s played in the BEST possible way, the case is so freaky and incredible and the work with the destroyed time turners and those... wizarding physics applied to it were so incredibly interesting. The characterizations are delicious, every moment Draco and Harry work together is fantastic, and in the end, when everything falls into place, it’s perfect. I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. 1000000/10. 

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

Each of these fics is incredibly close to my heart and I enjoyed them immensely. I hope they bring you all joy as well, and I’m ALWAYS here to gush about any of them ❤️ Happy holidays!

[vivithefolle]

Not sure if you already talked about this. (I’m pretty sure you have) but someone seemed to notice that when the trio get into fights, Hermione’s always in the right. Even when she’s supposed to be wrong she always seems to be half right. That kind of bothers me. Especially since it’s evident in the whole Scabbers situation.

I have indeed, on Quora, so let’s move yet another answer of mine to Tumblr!

Hermione is seldom wrong in the Harry Potter books. Sometimes she makes mistakes but those mistakes are either completely swept under the rug or downright ignored.

It’s partly due to lazy writing and partly due to Rowling’s own growing bias in favour of her Author Avatar that was fuelled by Steve Kloves, the primary advocate of the Hermione Granger Is The Perfect Girl Ever line of thinking (an utterly ridiculous line of thinking mind you).

Lizo: Steve, Hermione is a character that you have said is one of your favorites. Has that made her easier to write?

Steve: Yeah, I mean, I like writing all three, but I've always loved writing Hermione. Because, I just, one, she's a tremendous character for a lot of reasons for a writer, which also is she can carry exposition in a wonderful way because you just assume she read it in a book. If I need to tell the audience something...

JKR: Absolutely right, I find that all the time in the book, if you need to tell your readers something just put it in her. There are only two characters that you can put it convincingly into their dialogue. One is Hermione, the other is Dumbledore. In both cases you accept, it's plausible that they have, well Dumbledore knows pretty much everything anyway, but that Hermione has read it somewhere. So, she's handy.

Now this, right here, is the exact core of the problem.

Rowling herself admits it: if she wants the readers to have information, she puts Hermione in the scene. Hermione is our primary means of exposition because, like *grits teeth* Sssssteve puts it, it’s easy to assume that she’s read about it somewhere and it makes sense.

That’s all well and good but at first, if you notice, Ron also gave us exposition about the wizarding world, mostly about its culture. He was able to recall the exact year of the Wizarding Confederation that outlawed dragon breeding in Philosopher’s Stone! He explained what were respectively a “Mudblood”, a “Squib”, and Parseltongue, Hermione doing a little exposition about the history of that last one! He was also able to identify Sirius, after being dragged into the Whomping Willow, as an Animagi!

But then Goblet of Fire happens and you can notice the first change that will exponentially grow through the books: instead of Ron, pureblood Ron, born-before-the-end-of-the-war Ron, lived-through-the-aftermath-of-the-war Ron, identifying the Dark Mark, it’s instead Hermione, muggleborn Hermione, lived-as-a-Muggle-for-most-of-her-life Hermione, has-no-idea-about-the-emotional-impact-of-the-Mark Hermione who looks terrified as the Dark Mark shoots into the sky!

And it only will get worse, by the end of the series, Hermione pretty much knows about everything the plot needs her to know, instead of having to work with things she knows but can’t always apply to the situation:

Suddenly has a deep knowledge of Magical Law (in the will of Dumbledore’s chapter, while we had Rufus Scrimgeour who could have provided it to us, or to a lesser extent, Ron could have explained how a wizarding will basically worked)

Is suddenly an expert at finding edible plants and mushrooms. Apparently books are always the goddamn answer in JKR’s world, you can literally learn anything from them

She can decipher all the Tales of Beedle the Bard (may I remind you that they were written in Runes, okay Hermione may have a few years of Ancient Runes education BUT I once tried to translate a 3k+ story I had written for fun, from French to English, which means I knew what the subtleties and intentions were, I knew which turns of phrase I had to preserve so it would make sense in the end, and it still took me two gruelling weeks to get a satisfying result!)

Has suddenly grown a sense of quick-thinking (escaping Xenophilius’ house, using the jinx to make Harry’s face weird-looking) despite it being the only remaining flaw she had at the time (remember when she turned her back on her enemy while he was still conscious just to compliment Harry, and almost died as a result, even though she had been training in the DA to learn how to fight Death Eaters?) Quick-thinking under pressure can be learned, but it takes time and a lot of work to force your brain to override its instinct - and it’s fine because we’re all human and different. But no suddenly Hermione is the Greatest Strategist Evah™ and those silly boys (who actually were the original quick-thinking ones, and one of them was established as the strategist early on) better be grateful for this literal goddess because she protects them from all harm with her superhuman brain.

Somehow knows about Quidditch stuff - she knows about a Snitch’s “memory-touch”. Why should she give all the answers? Why can’t Ron give us this particular tidbit of information?

And then when we come to something Ron actually knows, the damn narration itself goes “woah a book that Ron has read but Hermione hasn’t??? shocking!! incredible!! Ron is not dumb, somebody call the news channel”. But… is that really so surprising? We’ve never seen Hermione read wizarding fiction or even Muggle fiction. We’ve never seen Hermione with anything other than schoolbooks in her hands. Of course Ron has read books she hasn’t read since she doesn’t seem to read fiction at all!

Sorry, bit of a tangent over here.

There are only two characters that you can put it convincingly into their dialogue.

So, that’s one part of the problem: the fact that Rowling, after making Ron our insight into magical culture and Hermione our provider of knowledge, ended up saying “eh whatever I guess Hermione can tell us everything we gotta know because it’s more convenient for me”. Which is a decision that was not based on Hermione’s character, but simply lazy writing. Long story short, it probably went: “Could Ron explain this bit of trivia? Meh, better make Hermione say it cause she’ll have read it in a book. It’s convenient and I won’t need to bother myself with exploring Ron’s characterisation.”

(And thus completely forgetting that Ron could maybe ask his big brothers via owl and provide us with a good heap of extra advanced knowledge - Bill is supposed to have aced his NEWTs after all.)

The other part of the problem is quite simply that Hermione is more often than not, either painted as a victim by the narrative (which makes more people take her side, classic manipulation tactic), or made to be right anytime it’s about a plot point.

Hermione’s mistakes are never explicitly stated, corrected, or even pointed out as being unethical.

Hermione only gets one mistake expressedly pointed out as being a mistake: her misadventure in Polyjuice Potion. The rest of them? Even her crush on Lockhart can’t be counted as a mistake - people get crushes all the time, based solely on physical appearance, it’s not something awful or terrible (Except when it’s Ron who crushes on someone. Ron crushing on someone is absolutely forbidden, and he must be punished with much ridicule and humiliation if he thinks he can get away with not worshipping Hermione like the goddess she is. The nerve of him, really.).

Throughout the books Hermione eventually morphs into Rowling’s Powerful Angel of Vengeance, that punishes the people who dared to do something she disliked - Rita is silenced but at a very ethically dubious price; Marietta gets scarred for life because she was more loyal to her mother than to a bunch of people her friend insisted she hang out with; Umbridge is led to a very, very alarming fate that is never made clear but some people have ideas and they’re not all very kid-friendly; Ron first is “helped” without knowing it because Hermione can’t be bothered to have faith in his capabilities, then when he fails to dutifully reward her for “helping” him, she causes him bodily harm before actively bullying him for not mind-reading her interest in him; causes even more bodily harm to Ron because that’s how feminism works; etc.

Hermione’s mistakes are always justified through the plot itself (which is lazy writing).

Turning into a cat? Only affects her.

The Firebolt? Scabbers? Well, in the end, it was really sent by Sirius Black and Crookshanks really wasn’t the culprit. Therefore all the feelings that were hurt and all the trust lost are irrelevant because Hermione was right all along.

Trying to free the house-elves? Well, it’s the intent that counts, right? And we’re never told enough about house-elf lore to know whether they’re poor brainwashed victims or powerful Penate-like symbiotes who need to serve a wizard to survive?

Kidnapping Rita Skeeter, trapping her and blackmailing her? Rita may be one foul little beetle, but that’s going a bit far, isn’t it? Harry approves? Oh, well, I guess it’s okay then…? A main character can’t have a dubious morality, right?

Manipulating Harry into forming Dumbledore’s Army and forcing him to relive a traumatic event with the same woman she’s kidnapped and blackmail and that she knows he hates? In the end, it all works out for the best and Harry’s hurt feelings don’t matter since it’s all about the greater good.

Using the centaurs to get rid of Umbridge (which poses the highly distressing question of what did the centaurs do to her?), realizing that the centaurs aren’t nice little horsies that are going to gently obey her every orders like good Disney princess’ companions, my goodness could this be an opportunity for character growth - nevermind, here comes Grawp the Giant Ex Machina, saving her arse and protecting Hermione from all that scary possibility of introspection. Thanks, Grawp Ex Machina.

Trying to dissuade a highly stressed-out and irrational Harry from rescuing Sirius by telling him exactly what he needed not to hear, a.k.a. “you have a saving people-thing” which causes Harry to completely go bonkers and go save his godfather without thinking twice? Well she was right after all, it was a trap! Nevermind how mind-boggingly insenstive and inadept at dealing with someone else’s feelings she was being, she was right! That means it wasn’t Hermione’s mistake!… probably. (Geez, I’m sensing a pattern here…)

Endangering Cormac’s life (Confunding him WHILE HE’S ON HIS BROOM) to promote Ron’s success? Oh but that’s so romantic! (Yeaaaah, how romantic to display exactly how much faith you lack in your crush. Top it off with a broken neck and that’s a picture perfect first date!)

Assaulting Ron with magic and causing him even more scars than he already had? But he was being cold with her first, right? And he totally should have known she was asking him out! It’s not like her invitation was even worse than his attempt to ask her out two years earlier! Plus she’s just a teenage girl expressing her emotions, anyone who tries to find fault in this is a disgusting abusive misogynist pig! Ha!

Getting all jealous that Harry is better than her at Potions, then pretending she’s not jealous by claiming that TEH BOOK IS EVIL, HARRY, and giving him the cold shoulder too? But no, she’s right, look, Harry used Sectumsempra and he almost killed Draco, nevermind that he’s very horrified about it! Hermione was right, like she always is!

Hermione Obliviating her parents, which pulls her from the “ethically dubious” zone into the “wow okay I’m pretty sure that this counts as a violation of basic human rights” zone, makes her one of those quirky wizardfolk who have the privilege to control those simple-minded Muggles because it’s for the greater good? But nooo she’s crying about it so it’s obviously very sad and angsty and it shows her devotion to the cause!

Splinching Ron while fleeing from the Ministry? Eeeh, but he’s fine, they’ve got Dittany, he’s good as new!… blood loss? Anaemia? What’s that?

Hermione was wrong about the Deathly Hallows not existing? Um, um, that doesn’t matter, LOOK DOBBY IS DEAD AND HARRY IS BACK TO LOOKING FOR THE HORCRUXES!! Therefore Hermione was right, the Hallows weren’t important for their quest, therefore the Hallows might as well not exist, HERMIONE WAS RIGHT NO REALLY I’VE GOT RECEIPTS -

The books never forget to remind Harry and Ron of their own shortcomings and moments of weakness.

Harry’s wrath and recklessness cost Sirius his life. This is the lesson he has to learn from his entitled behaviour in OotP: actions have consequences, and the greater your responsibility, the greater the cost will be.

Ron’s envy and insecurity lead him astray; they’re used to humiliate, ridicule and torture him throughout the books. They’re supposed to teach him that he’s worth something - but how is he supposed to believe that, when nobody ever tells him he’s worth anything? When nobody ever apologizes to him? When his feelings are taken for granted over and over? When his two friends seem to discard him whenever he does one thing wrong?

Hermione is never punished. Hermione is never said to be wrong, never shown to be wrong, never called out on her behaviour. From Prisoner of Azkaban to mid-Deathly Hallows, she stays exactly the same character. She doesn’t grow up. She doesn’t learn. She doesn’t change. She has virtually no character arc.

The only time, THE ONLY TIME IN SEVEN BOOKS, the only time we have something remotely resembling a call-out of Hermione’s horrible behaviour is with this sole quote in HBP:

Harry was left to ponder in silence the depths to which girls would sink to get revenge.

Note how it’s about “girls” and not Hermione in particular, which implies that any girl would do what Hermione does to Ron. Thanks for the generalization, JKR, but I like to believe I’m actually a decent sort of person that doesn’t resort to petty cruelty and exploits my friends’ insecurities whenever I’m angry with them.

Hermione NEVER has to apologize. Hermione NEVER has to learn from her mistakes because she’s always presented as a victim when she really isn’t. Hermione NEVER develops into something more - she’s emotionally stuck at fourteen years old. Even less than that when you consider that her reaction to Ron’s return in Deathly Hallows is to trash him with her fists - and she was going to get her wand!! The utter psychopathic b- wanted TO THROW BIRDS AT HIM AGAIN!!! - and this reaction is an appropriate one for a four-years old girl, but certainly not for a supposedly “mature” seventeen-years old.

(Yes, because what separates a child from an adult is the ability to reign in your emotions and not succumb to your impulses. Exactly what Ron did when he left the tent (notice that he had drawn his wand, then he left before he could start hexing Harry), he left to calm himself down. Exactly what Hermione fails to do when Ron returns (she has the impulse to strike him and immediately succumbs to it, which proves to us that The Brightest Witch Of Her Age has all the maturity of a very small child).)

All of that, on top of the awful portrayal in the movies which removes all of Ron’s characteristics to stuff them into Hermione and turns her into some impossible epitome of perfection, eventually contributed to the portrayal of Hermione as the one who is always right and knows everything.

Add to it JKR’s own ridiculous bias (“Ron was quite emotionally immature compared to the other two”, yeah right I don’t see him trying to force freedom onto unwilling creatures or making Harry fly into an irrational rage with mere words but you do you, Jo) and the sexist misconception that “girls are innately more mature than boys”, and you get yourself this apparent behemoth of righteousness that was literally the sole reason why those two silly boys survived everything, and don’t you dare criticize this angel of perfection OR ELSE.

[cruelfeline]

All right. So, this corner of the fandom has been in a bit of an uproar after Stevenson had her stream; and while I’m of the mind that anything said outside of the actual show, without any real canon backing, can be safely ignored, I do want to address one odd statement I’ve heard talked about.

Essentially: the idea that Hordak would have pulled the portal lever at the end of season three.

Now, I will confess that I haven’t actually watched the stream itself; I’m getting this from the ripples of discontent in the Entrapdak and Hordak tags. I also don’t really plan on viewing the stream... it’s like, what, four hours long? Mm. No, thank you.

But! My goal here isn’t to address or debunk or pick apart Stevenson’s words, specifically; my goal is to simply address the question: would Hordak have activated the portal? Because it’s an interesting question, no matter what was said on-stream! And because I’ve had a few people express interest in hearing a take. So: ask, and ye shall receive!

Now, we’re going to look at this in two different circumstances: Hordak pulling the lever while still believing Entrapta to have betrayed him, and him pulling the lever in an AU situation, where Entrapta returned to him and warned him of the danger. Ready? Onward!

We’ll tackle the “betrayal” scenario first. Would Hordak have pulled the lever in the situation as portrayed in canon, believing that Entrapta had betrayed and abandoned him? Assuming, of course, that Catra hadn’t pulled it first.

Mm... I think he probably would. But, in my opinion, not necessarily in that moment.

In this scenario, Hordak doesn’t have any reason not to pull the lever: no one has told him that it is dangerous. No one has warned him that it is going to unravel reality and kill them all unless a very specific sort of heroic sacrifice is made. He has no idea that disaster awaits, and furthermore, with Entrapta a “traitor,” he has no reason to doubt returning to Prime. He has every reason to pull the lever, but as we watch the scene play out, it is clear that he isn’t particularly keen to do so right that second.

Catra tries to push him to do it, then and there. He reaches for the lever, but as the princesses rush in, he hesitates, retreats a bit, tries to fight. He’s not nearly as focused on the lever as Catra is.

I think that the reason for this is twofold. First, Hordak is not spite-fueled enough to pull the lever right that second the way Catra is. He wants to open the portal, of course, but it doesn’t have to be right then and there so that Adora can bear witness and be emotionally defeated. He wants to open it, but he also recognizes that his sanctum is under attack. I have the sense that he perhaps thinks it best to take care of the intruders and let everything settle back down before doing something as monumental as opening a portal and potentially entering into communications with Horde Prime. To put it simply: I think he would rather open the portal during more controlled circumstances.

Second, princess attack aside: I just don’t think that Hordak is in the best mindset to open the portal in this moment. He’s... he’s in actual emotional shock, I think. Oh, he puts on an angry front, of course, as he always does when he is distressed or upset in some way, but there’s no missing his look of dejection when Catra informs him of Entrapta’s apparent betrayal. 

This is the woman he has worked with for the better part of a year. The woman he grew close to and fond of and trusted with not only scientific work, but with himself. And now he’s being told that she has essentially been using him this whole time, that she’s lied to and deceived him, and that she is responsible for this terrible attack in the place he’d always assumed was safest.

He’s hurt and stunned to the point of Catra having to pull him away from an imminent explosion. I doubt that this is the emotional state he wishes to have when opening a portal and potentially speaking with his Brother.

So, while I think that, in this scenario, Hordak would choose to open the portal, I don’t think he’d want to do it at this point in time. Contacting Prime just isn’t his main focus in this scene. His main focus is defending himself against the princesses and dealing with this devastating emotional blow. 

Now, might he possibly open the portal during the battle, under duress, perhaps feeling it is a now-or-never moment? Yes, potentially. But I don’t think he’d be too happy about it. I think it would be a sort of last resort, if he really felt he had no other choice. Again, while I think that he’d ultimately open the portal in an “Entrapta betrayal” scenario, he would much prefer to do it in a calm, controlled setting with his enemies neutralized and his emotional wounds soothed. 

So. With that scenario out of the way, let’s move on to the arguably more interesting one: would Hordak have opened the portal had Entrapta returned and informed him of the danger?

Well, friends and neighbors, I am not an authority on this character. I am not a writer. I have no special knowledge or insight. I only have my feelings and my opinion.

That opinion, however? That opinion is: no. Absolutely not. 

The reasons for this are both emotional and logical.

Emotionally speaking, at this point in the story, Hordak already loves Entrapta. He allows her into his sanctum, allows her to come and go as she pleases, to work closely with him, to work on him. He risks his own life to save her from a failed portal test. He opens up to her about fears and vulnerabilities that are clearly difficult for him to talk about. He trusts her to the point that he allows her to make new armor for him, an action that, should this trust be misplaced, could lead to severe injury and death. He hears her “imperfection is beautiful” speech and is moved by it.

Furthermore, he clearly exhibits doubt regarding going through with the portal solely because it would mean leaving her. This is strongly suggested in season three, when Entrapta and Hordak both grow visibly uncomfortable at the thought of Hordak leaving to rejoin the galactic Horde. It is essentially confirmed in season four, when Prime’s hand hovers over the LUVD crystal’s empty socket while he observes that there had been a time when Hordak wished he would not come for him. 

Hordak has deep emotional attachments to Entrapta by the end of season three. He is at the same level of attachment at this point as he is at the end of season five, when his love for her helps him break free of and kill Prime. Remember: after Entrapta is sent to Beast Island, they do not see one another again until season five. Their relationship development essentially stalls... but it stalls at a high point because they are already a bonded pair, a couple, at season three’s end. With this level of attachment and affection, it is hard to rationalize Hordak disregarding Entrapta’s sincere advice, let alone pulling a portal lever that could result in both her death and his. It just doesn’t quite follow, does it? 

Even if he has some sort of doubt about the danger... why risk it? Why risk the life of the person he loves? He doesn’t do so when facing Prime in season five, when the stakes are so much higher, the need to obey so much greater... but he’d do it over the portal? Rather than just postponing the project (as both he and Entrapta appeared to be considering anyway)? 

Hm. 

To this emotional reasoning, one can add plain logic: Hordak respects Entrapta’s intelligence. He takes her advice regarding sparing Catra. He accepts her help while working on his portal device. He values her opinion and her skills. Before learning of her “betrayal,” he clearly revels in the fact that her hard work has brought their plans to fruition. He consistently acknowledges her abilities and her worth, emotional attachment or not. Even when he barely knows her, he notes that her “tinkering” increases the power of everything she touches. He never expresses any doubt in her talents.

To this sense of respect, one can add Hordak’s willingness to listen to others, even his subordinates. Hordak is shown, time and again, to be very open to accepting counsel: from Shadow Weaver, from Catra, and certainly from Entrapta. Even early on, in season one, when Entrapta is simply an acquaintance, he accepts her claim that the defeat at Bright Moon isn’t a failure, that her experiment was successful. Even then, he is willing to listen to her, to give her leeway in her work. Now, knowing the extent of her brilliance, he would ignore her, reject her? Why?

Why would he? What reason could he have to doubt her, when she is nearly always right and has demonstrated no ulterior motives? He, on his end, has never been bull-headed or reckless about things, never been one to ignore reasonable advice... so why start now? Especially since it is doubtful that Entrapta would ever recommend abandoning portal technology altogether; I would expect that her advice would be to simply postpone and reassess, to “keep working on it until it’s perfect.” Which... well, that seemed an amenable enough option for the both of them, before Catra’s interruption.

So.

I have to admit that I just don’t see it. I don’t see how, between his demonstrable love for her and his valuing and respecting her ability, Hordak would have disregarded Entrapta should she have managed to make it back to him to warn him of the portal’s dangers. Especially when listening to her wouldn’t necessarily mean abandoning the portal project; simply postponing it doesn’t seem like an unreasonable decision in the face of such severe risk.

I mean, I suppose one could argue that he just wouldn’t believe her, that Catra would somehow lie and make him doubt her... but I don’t see how he would believe Catra (a known liar) over Entrapta (honest to a fault, also his wife) if the two were side by side. Hordak is insecure. He is not stupid.

And after all, isn’t that the whole reason that Catra shocked Entrapta? Because she knew that Hordak would believe her and stop the portal? If that wasn’t the case, if Hordak would have gone ahead with it anyway... well, then that makes Catra’s actions even worse, doesn’t it? Takes all the logic out of them. Makes her subduing Entrapta and threatening Scorpia all the more senseless and cruel, if Hordak wouldn’t have believed Entrapta anyway. Kind of messes with her whole arc, doesn’t it? Makes her even more morally bankrupt. Hm.

So while I do think that Hordak would have eventually pulled the portal lever in Entrapta’s absence (though he’d prefer to do it in a more controlled setting), I just can’t see how or why he would have pulled it if Entrapta had actually reached him with her warning. I mean, I’m not one of the writers, obviously; I have no unique knowledge or insight into these characters, but from what I’ve seen in terms of canonical behavior and relationships? It just makes it hard for me to rationalize and believe that Hordak would disregard Entrapta in favor of such a reckless act.

It just doesn’t seem like him. 

And again: I could be misinterpreting his character. That’s always possible. But if that’s the case, then I would need a significant explanation to make such an act make sense to me, rather than seeming like a bit of nonsensical character derailment. Because as things are right now, I just don’t see him doing it. For all of the reasons listed above. 

And that, friends and neighbors, is the "would Hordak have pulled the lever" take. Hopefully some of y'all find it amusing!

[c-is-for-circinate]

Okay, so I’ve got way more reactions to P5 Strikers for a longer post later, but I want to keep playing, so I’m recording some thoughts and predictions after the first boss (and all the cutscenes thereafter) before they get derailed or confirmed by later events.

This is going to be a story about cycles of violence, I suspect.  On the whole, I really liked how the game handled that with Alice: what happened to her was terrible and traumatic, and in no way excuses what she did in return.  And Ann was still desperate to save her.  I’m hoping we see more of that: understanding and also condemning, all folded in together.

Oh!!!  And as I’m writing this, I’m thinking about how that ties in thematically with what I suspect may be the deal with jails and monarchs.  See, palaces, we know from Yaldabaoth, were jails in their own sense--prisoners kept in isolation from the general population of Mementos and the Prison of Regression, shunted over into their own private little pocket dimensions where they could rule whatever they wanted.  (And I have some more complex thoughts thoughts about the specific ways that system enables further violence by rewarding bad behavior, in terms of Yaldie’s motives and also reflections of the real world, but that’s another post for another day.)  This, on the other hand, feels far more like the entire jail system is just big sprawling pocket remnants of that universal prison complex with all the wardens gone.  Now individual shadows have clawed their way up to becoming monarchs over their own pockets, but being queen of your own jail still makes you in jail.  The monarchs of these places, I suspect, will all be prisoners of their own pasts and the violence that taught them to turn to violence, which is a thematically cool way to do this and I like it.

Actually, framing it that way is making the whole concept of a cycle-of-violence P5 game grow on me.  One of the things I honestly liked about the original P5 was that, with one notable exception, we never once gave a shit about the tragic backstories of the villains we took down.  Sure, we’d learn a bit about them when we stole the Treasures, sometimes, but it didn’t really matter--because the important thing about each antagonist was the harm they are doing now, not forgiving them because of the harm done to them in the past.  So I had a little bit of concern that this seeming reversal of that trend might veer off into too much sympathy for the aggressors, bur I’m thinking (I’m hoping) that what we’re actually getting is a look at how systematic violence can turn victims into further oppressors.  And given that P5 was always a game about systematic violence, this ends up feeling like a natural progression rather than undercutting the original concept.  Heck yes.

Speaking of systems of violence: yep, I am using social justice lingo when talking about this game, and no I do not think I am projecting or reading too far into it, because damn is P5S not remotely fucking around with how it feels about cops.  Like, Zenkichi Hasegawa aside (and oh boy do I have thoughts on him), dear god do I love Haru sweet smile ‘Sorry, we just despise the police, is all!’ Okumura.  Meanwhile, our hordes of faceless trash mob enemies are literally vaguely police-shaped Shadows in riot gear.  We spent a major battle blowing up cop cars. Like.  Persona 5 said prison abolition, to the tune of spending our entire game trying to break out of our metaphorical Velvet Room prison and boss-battling our final endgame through the cognitive prison of all society.  P5 Strikers apparently said, ‘you know, we were too subtle last time, and also Fuck The Police.’

Okay and actually let’s talk about ol’ Zenkichi there (hell yes, team, you go right ahead calling this adult authority figure by his given name with no honorifics even in the original Japanese, I support you).  My hope at this point is that we get his development as a parallel to the same things we’re seeing in these jail monarchs: as part of a cycle of violence.  He’s clearly got some backstory if we’re meant to care about him this much, and it led him to this place of becoming a cop out of a desire to help or to hurt or whatever, but the road he followed brought him to this role of an authority figure with no issue manipulating, using, threatening, and borderline abusing his power over teenagers.  (I say ‘borderline’ because he hasn’t moved beyond threats yet, but it’s pretty clear he wouldn’t mind doing so if necessary--we saw him beat up a drunk, so yep.) Which, can we talk about the parallels between that scene and Akira’s original confrontation with Shido?  Drunk man harassing a woman, drunk man ends up on the ground.  Except: Akira was alone on a dark street with only the three of them there, and Hasegawa’s surrounded by people who could intervene, help, or even side against him in court if anyone cared what they had to say.  Except the drunk office-worker is clearly unimportant and unthreatening, while Shido was forceful in pride and anger even while drunk.  Except Shido’s victim was terrified, while Ann is mostly just disgusted, surrounded by friends, in very little actual danger. And Akira never touched him, never pushed him, just took one step up to try and help.  Zenkichi Hasegawa provoked a mostly-harmless drunk into attacking him for the excuse to punch him unconscious on purpose. Akira’s Shido flashback was framed in every way to show us the ways our protagonist was powerless.  Zenkichi’s scene parallels it to show us a dozen different ways this man is powerful and unafraid to use it--not just against those he deems unworthy, but also, if he so chooses, over those he saves. I am really enjoying this guy as a character.  Every single time the PTs have no use for his shit, I cheer.  Him being unbalanced by the metaverse is glorious, and please let Morgana continue to freak him out by existing and Haru continue to freak him out with sweet, pleasant smiles while talking about how she’s very sorry, it’s simply that all cops are bastards, for the rest of the game. (Additional note: @errant-light and I have been watching and talking about a whole bunch of Fullmetal Alchemist lately, and apparently Hasegawa’s Japanese VA is also Roy Mustang.  Which has just been a delightful detail re: this guy’s manipulative bastardry, because in some ways I am pretty sure the mass-murdering war criminal version of this character is the better person.)

Alice as a really obvious parallel to Kamoshida is interesting, I think.  Even to the point of being a king and queen ruling a castle--and don’t think I didn’t see that “Birdcage of Lust” label!  I don’t love having a pretty young social media influencer as our sin of lust (but even that’s complicated, because Alice was pretty clearly caged and abused for daring to feel lust in the first place, NOT for preying on people, except that then she did get predatory and it’s all a little thorny and not especially kink-positive).  I do have a lot of feelings about Shujin as this place where Kamoshida abused and preyed on people with total abandon, while Alice was demonized for daring to even look at boys in the wrong way.  I really wonder if they ever met.  It’s a cool counterpoint, and a really cool counterpoint to Ann, who was likewise a victim of that school and refused to let it turn her into an abuser herself.  (I have a LOT of feelings about Ann right now.) I’m really hoping future jail monarchs continue to mirror palace rulers in interesting ways.  In theory, next up is vanity, and gosh knows there’s plenty to fuck around with in playing against Yusuke’s lonely artistic yearning to be understood.  I’m very excited.

Apparently, the internet says this game takes 35 hours to play.  Me and my 21-hour playtime so far have some Opinions About That.

[achaoticeternal]

A Dance. A Chase. A Purpose.

RANSOM DRYSDALE X READER masterlist  //  taglist

request from anon: 35. "sit your ass back down and talk to me" with Ransom Thrombey pretty please??😍

Summary: Ransom never has been one to chase a gall, but you’ve always been different. Word Count: 3.4k A/N: This is a reader and Ransom at a very formal gala. The Thrombey’s and Drysdale’s are “high class” people, they attend these kinds of things but I haven’t seen anyone write something like this! I hope you guys really enjoy it! This is also a lot of dialogue... whoops Warnings: Light swearing, people flirting with the reader, Ransom being an asshole but not a complete asshole

ANOTHER REAL QUICK NOTE: I WROTE ABOUT RANSOM IN A MAROON VELVET SUITE BEFORE THE GOLDEN GLOBES HAPPENED AND CHRIS JUST HAPPENED TO WEAR THAT EXACT OUTFIT TO THE GOLDEN GLOBES AND ALL I’M SAYING IS THAT THE UNIVERSE CAME THROUGH

His blue eyes continuously stalked you throughout the hours you attended the Gala. It wasn’t his scene and yet he adored the thought of ruining your perfect evening just with his presence. 

“Who put Ransom on the guest list?” You hissed at one of the event coordinators, “Don’t you remember what he did at the art show I hosted last year?”

“I’m terribly sorry Miss, but he’s the plus one for Mr. Thrombey,” the hesitant man replied, looking awfully terrified.

You took multiple deep breathes to soothe yourself and stop yourself from becoming flustered. Ransom has this awful hold on you that everyone could not, and you could absolutely not stand. He knew just how to stir you, be that good or bad, and absolutely ruin what should be paradise. He truly was the devil in a maroon velvet suit that was perfectly tailored to him.

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry for flashing, thank you for all your assistance tonight,” You smiled kindly to the man before scurrying off to find something to occupy yourself before Ransom had a chance. 

Tonight, all you wanted to do was raise funds to assist the homeless shelters in major U.S cities and inspire a few billionaires and millionaires to hand over a hefty check. But you had to play a little game to get money from the elite class. You made your way all around the ballroom in the designer gown; it was black and floor-length, layer upon layer of fine black lace. Across the skirt was intricate gold stars sewn into the material as an illusion collar and mesh sleeves complimented your top. Your appearance mixed with your charm could allure both men and women into acquiring whatever you desired. You knew that inevitably somehow you would run into Ransom since Harlan was a huge donor to your foundation. 

“Oh, (Y/N),” It seemed you’d be seeing him sooner than you thought as Mr. Thrombey waved you over. Gracefully, you turned to see him and other authors you’d invited enjoying their wine and making various comments about the younger people attending the gala. Harlan motioned at an empty seat, “my dear.”

“Alright, but I can’t stay long. Apparently, I’m the only one left with their head screw on right this evening,” You smiled as the older group chuckled.

“You’ve always been a prize, (Y/N). Standing out in school, in your community, and now your foundation. Your grandparents would be proud,” Margret, a theatre critic, complimented you.

Her words were almost reassuring. Your grandparents had left their company and their estate to you, their only granddaughter. The rest of the family received their fair cut of shares and money, but your grandparents believed that you had the best potential in ruining their media empire. 

But you felt all joy leave your body as a large pair of hands rested themselves upon your shoulder, squeezing them just tight enough to create a numbing sensation, “Yes, and she also always was quite the star in high school and even university. Our professor often gawked at how well-knowledged she is, and even her charm.”

You rested your right hand on top of Ransom’s, peeling it off and letting it drop to his side, “Well, Ransom, it’s wonderful for you to join us at the Charity Gala tonight. I hope everything is just as proper and tasteful to your liking.”

“Well, it’s a nice little set-up you have, but I’ve always been a man to enjoy a good party with plenty to drink and-”

“Hugh,” Mr. Thrombey warned his grandson.

Ransom gave her grandfather a childish glare before sighing, “But it’s still just so lovely, (Y/N).”

“This has just been so grand,” You stood and brushed out any wrinkles in the skirt of your dress, “but I must go meet with the city’s mayor to talk about the proceeds from this evening before they reach a politician's hands. Please feel free to check out our silent auction tables, there are some wonderful prizes to be won. And once we announce the winners, we will have a large auction while dinner is served in the banquet hall at 8.”

With pep in your step, you quickly made your own way to the banquet hall to make sure everything was going swimmingly.

                                                          -   -   -

“Yes, and up there on the platform, the seats will go the mayor’s wife, the mayor, the governor, myself, the senator, his wife, and then his son,” you pointed down the long table. Then you turned to look out over a sea of tables, chairs, and name cards, “And the menu is set for this evening?”

“Yes, ma’am. Everything is under control, tidy, and might I say, luxurious, thanks to you,” your proceeds manager, Pierce, complimented you.

“You’re too kind,” you slapped his arm lightly, “now, guests my enter around 7:30 or whenever the staff finishes setting our the glasses and rolls.”

“Oh, (Y/N),” you heard your name called by a silver tongue serpent who managed to sneak into the banquet hall early. As he sauntered over to you, Pierce noticed how to seemed to deflate slightly in the man’s presence.

“Miss, I’m so sorry, I’ll go tell security too-”

“It’s fine, Pierce. Hugh is an... acquaintance that I’ve known for years.”

“That’s a strange way of putting childhood enemy,” Ransom teased as he took a sip out of his champagne glass, “or childhood crush depends on how you view it.”

“Yes, yes, how could I forget. Pierce,” you gave him a look to dismiss him as you turned to look pointedly at Ransom, “what are you doing here now? The schedule is clear and I don’t understand why you can’t just fo-”

“You know schedules and timetables aren’t my forte, honey,” he cut you off, which he knew made your blood boil, “but I wanted to address a little rumor I heard? Apparently, at the banquet auction- you are going to be a prize.”

“I’m not a prize, I’m a respected woman,” you sneered, “and my marketing and social managers decided it would help the cause if we auctioned off a dance with one of the most powerful and eligible bachelorette's in New York.”

“Well then,” His eyes scanned across your face but going lower. You snapped your fingers in front of his face to snap him out of whatever the hell he was trying to do, “I guess I’ll be able to show you what a fantastic dancer I am tonight when I win.”

“In your dreams, Ransom,” You said with a smile as you heard the doors open and a crowd begin the flutter in, “Now please if you would so kindly take your seat able table 6.”

                                                         -   -   -

“Thank you so much for attending tonight’s charity gala,” You smiled warmly as you spoke into the microphone. Much applause followed, “This evening’s event couldn’t have happened without help from so many people within the community and all of you here tonight. I have a lot of people to thank tonight, but first I would like to thank the wonderful orchestra for providing such wonderful music.”

You gestured to the group seated on the right side of the banquet hall as they took their bows. You allowed for the chatter to calm before continuing your speech to thank the hotel and its’ management, the catering, your parents and siblings, your personal assistant, “and lastly I have three very important men and their families in attendance tonight. The Mayor of New York City, The Governor, and even Senator Holstead.” Each of the men stood, waved to the crowd, and were applauded, “And now, I would like to invite the Senator’s eldest son, MR. Wyatt Holstead to join me in announcing the winner’s for tonight’s silent auction and then we will proceed to bidding on specialty items.”

“Thank you so much, Ms. (Y/L/N). Isn’t she just fantastic?” Wyatt smiled at the audience as he made his way up to you with his own mic. He stood next to you and took your hand, “It is an absolute honor to be assisting you tonight and a help you raise funds to solve homelessness in this beautiful city, once and for all. But being in your striking beauty might be the cherry on top.”

You giggled as he raised your hand to his lips and kiss your knuckles softly. However, you could feel the tension across to the room as you made eye contact with Ransom, who was clapping with a less than excited look upon his face, “Why thank you. Now, Wyatt will be drawing and announcing the names of the winners while I present you will the item of auction. So- let’s begin.”

You forgot about Ransom and his predatory gaze as you awarded baskets and various items to strangers and friends that won them. The flashes of cameras and shaking of hands stirred your brain until Wyatt ended the silent auction.

“Congratulations to the winners! Checks can be dropped off this evening or mailed to the donation center within the next three days. But now, we move onto our live auction where we have some stellar items and events up for sale tonight!”

“You’re right, Wyatt. This first item up to bid tonight is a trip to the beaches of Italy on an all-expenses-paid vacation! Let’s start the bidding at $500, shall we?”

Immediately, hands and ladies’ fans flew up in the air. It was amazing how fast items were going and how quickly the evening was flying by.

“Going twice... Sold! The fountain pen collection goes to Mrs. Margret Dunwoody!” Wyatt called. There was applause as she grabbed her prize, “And now, for the final auction before any real partying or dancing begins, we have a real treat. One lucky person will be able to share the first dance and be treated to breakfast with our own, Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N)! Now, this is quite the prize so let’s start the bidding at... two thousand?”

The hands’ of New York’s finest bachelors and bachelorettes shot up high.

‘$2,500″

“$3,500″

“$4,000!”

“$5,000!”

“$25,000,” One loud voice called from the center of the room. Ransom had stood, a smirk plastered to his face as his blue eyes met your own.

“$30,0-” Another man tried to yell out.

“$50,000,” Ransom called on top of him, “Anyone else?”

“Well then,” Wyatt said, looking to you and winking, “$60,000.”

“$75,000,” Ransom called back with ease. 

“$85,000,” Wyatt retorted.

 You began to become nervous. It would be awkward to watch Ransom’s and Wyatt’s little showdown, but you were the prize which made the experience only that much unsettling, “Boys, boys, you’re both pretty.”

“Going once...” You looked at Ransom only to be pondering something, “Going twice...” you started to pray that anyone else would bid, Wyatt was still in college and you didn’t need your record destroyed by a horny boy...

“$150,000!”

The banquet hall went completely silent, no one said a thing. You could here pen drop in the room with how deafening it was.

“Sold to Mr. Ransom Drysdale!” The Mayor called out from his seat, sensing the tension, “Now if Mr. Drysdale will make his way up to the platform to escort his prize to the dance floor.”

Ransom held a bit of swagger in his stride as he approached you. The shock was still evident in your stature as you tried to smile. People applauded and the band began to play again.

“My dear,” Ransom held his hand out for you, making sure to make this look a publicly decent as he could. You took his hand and he leads you down the stairs of the platform. Once you were on his level, he placed a hand upon your lower back and guided you towards the dance floor.

The band began to play a slow number that had the slightest touch of an upbeat. Ransom was surprisingly a great dance partner and easily guided you around the floor which captured the eyes of all in the banquet hall.

“You know, you’re not half bad at dancing,” you attempted to compliment him.

“I guess private school pays off a bit, but I’d still prefer dancing under your sheets,” he said in a sultry tone into your ear.

“Dammit, Ransom. I’m trying to enjoy my evening because you’ll be there to ruin my morning,” he spun you twice before pulling you into his chest again, “why did you even place a bid? You hate donating to charity, unless by force, and you know I can’t stand you.”

“Well, you know I love getting under your skin and I think the other bidder doesn’t have the same experience as I do,” He beamed, “in any category.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“But you can’t help but love me,” his lips dragged across your cheek.

The music faded out and a DJ began playing today’s hits. With all the formalities taken care of, this was no longer was your scene, “Well, good night, Ransom. I’ll see you in the morning and you can tell me about whatever girl you hooked up with, in the morning.”

With that, you escaped up to your suite in the hotel, hoping not to interact with anyone for the rest of the evening.

                                                        -   -   -

It was a few hours later now and you were still wide awake, relaxing in the living area of your suite as Brooklyn Nine-Nine played on the television. You had already showered and your hair was almost finished air drying, but you still wore the hotel robe. It was peaceful and allowed you to digest the events from the evening. But a knock on the door alerted you of an unexpected guest.

“Who is it?”

“Room service, ma’am,” You opened the door to reveal a young man with a cart, “Gifts from the hotel managers and a special man who wanted to thank you for this evening.”

“Oh well, thank you, just cart it in wherever you like,” You nodded and let him through. He quickly took care of his job before exiting, “good night.”

You grabbed the first card on the cart, a little formal thank you note from the hotel for a smooth event and the wonderful publicity. There was a second one with no name, but you figured it was one of the politicians you invited this evening.

You looked like the night sky, but you shined brighter than any star.

Shaking your head, you let out a small giggle at the little note like you were a school girl again. Even if there was a bump or two in the evening, it all still went practically perfect. But a second knock came from the door.

“If it’s another cart, I’m afraid I’m out of room in here,” You teased, only to open the door to reveal Ransom. 

“Well, were the flowers not enough? I didn’t know my prize would still be so hard to please, even after I swept her off her feet on the dance floor.” Here he was, smirk and all. Instead of his usual behavior of prowling a dance floor for a girl to satisfy him for the night, he was here, satisfying his need to tease you.

“Ransom, I-uh... Shouldn’t you be downstairs?” You pulled the robe close to your body like it could shield you from anything he could say or do to you.

“Well, my date left me on the floor-”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but it’s late, and I’m not a prize to be won, and you-”

“(Y/N),” He looked you in the eyes with his own blue ones that could make any woman melt and suddenly you understood why he came upstairs, “Can I come in, please?”

“I- maybe not tonight...”

“Please”

You took a deep breath before opening the door to allow him in, “Okay, but I do plan to go to bed before long.”

He walked in and immediately got a beer out of the hotel fridge before taking a seat on the couch. You grabbed yourself a bottle of water before joining him on the couch.

“So, were you trying to get away from your grandfather? or an ex?”

“No, I figured it was time we talk. And I mean actually talk. Not argue or bicker like we do in front of everyone else.”

“I don’t remember a time where we didn’t, so...”

“Maybe because you never give me the chance to talk-”

“Well, maybe that’s because every time I’ve tried to open up to you or trust you, you just cut me off...”

“Maybe that’s because you keep trying to meddle in my life like my family does!”

“I’m not doing this tonight! Not after everything I accomplished, I’ll see you in the morning,” you pushed yourself off the couch and attempted to make your way into the bedroom.

“No, (Y/N), I-” He let out a sigh and shook his head, “sit your ass back down and talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Ransom!”

“There is everything to talk about”

IT hit you like a brick. He wanted to talk it out because after all this time he still wanted you. He wanted back sneaking into each other’s dorms. Pretending to hate each other, but sneaking kisses behind friends and family. You were the only person to ever deny him from what he needed. You were the girl to leave him on the floor. The same way you had left him on the floor homecoming your junior year, semi-formal your senior year of college, and various club outings. And now tonight in front of the public. You had always been the only girl to leave him alone and the only girl to walk out on him first. And after all this time, he still chased after you, because you were consistent.

 “Dammit, (Y/N). Why do you act like this? We have history, but you insist on acting like it never happened or that it was all bad.”

“Ransom, you know why we both called it all off...”

“Because you were inheriting a large media network? You could risk doing ONE thing that your mother didn’t approve of. I know why, but I’ll never understand-”

“Because you made me reckless and I couldn’t let my life slip through my fingers while I lived a perfectly pleasurable life off of daddy’s money. I need purpose and you never gave me one.”

“But you gave me purpose. And tonight, you looked like a night sky, shining bright with a thousand stars and reminded me of those nights where we laid under the starry sky and you let me spoil you. You helped me deal with the abomination that is my family, you were helping me learn to be a better person.” He took your hands into his own large ones and rested his forehead against yours, “I was going to propose and we were going to find a purpose together.”

“Fuck, Ransom,” The tears slid down your cheeks, but he caught them with his thumbs, “Why do we have to do this now? I was just starting to truly move on. Why can’t you let the idea of us go?”

“Because it’s the only good idea I’ve ever had. Please, (Y/N), I love you.”

Your breath got caught in your throat. In all the time that Ransom and you had spent together - teasing each other or flirting or otherwise - he had never said that he loved you. You never even heard him tell his parents he loved them. He truly wanted you.

“I- We... We can try again. But it’ll be slow and it will take time to heal what we burned, but if you’re willing than I am too.”

“That’s all I need to hear,” he whispered before pressing his lips against yours. 

                                                       -   -   -

The next afternoon, images of you and Ransom having brunch and holding hands while wandering around New York were splattered across media and magazine sites alike. People and reporters asked about the charity event the night before, what this relationship meant for your company, and even asking if you both were finally coming public with your relationship after months of hiding it.

A young reporter caught Ransom and asked it you satisfied his desires, targeting Ransom’s playboy bachelor status.

“I think you should be asking (Y/N) how much she raised for the homeless and those living off in a single evening instead of objectifying her. She’s the most powerful and influential woman in the nation and desrves more respect than that. Go report her record-breaking funding to your Editor, instead of a dumbass’s opinion on if she makes a good shag or not, sweetie.”

Once you made it into his car and made your way to Boston, you turned to him, “Thank you, for everything you said.”

“Of course, it was all honest and true. But I was never gonna tell them how wonderful you feel beneath me.”

“Ransom-”

“Oh c’mon, you love me”

[kelyon]

Golden Rings 16: A Confession

The Storybrooke sequel to Golden Cuffs

In which Rumple leaves the jail, but is not free

Read on AO3

He waits in the darkness. In this prison, his magic is useless and there is nothing to do but wait. Has he been here for weeks or for months? When his wife fretted over his future, did she worry about him being so bored?

His cell is at the end of a long tunnel. The only torches are at the mouth of the corridor, where the guards are stationed. His captors are quiet tonight, but sometimes he hears them talking to each other. They tell tales of him, warning each other against his power, his evil, his devious tricks. They speak as though they are in danger just by being in his presence. 

They are not wrong. 

If he wanted to, he could kill them with his bare hands. He wouldn’t need magic or a weapon. His own strength and viciousness would be enough to rip through their armor and tear out their throats with his teeth. 

It is fortunate for the guards that he has no intention of harming them, or of escaping. He is exactly where he wants to be. This cell is insulated from magic, it is both a prison and a fortress. If there is any place in this world where the effects of the Queen’s curse might be mitigated, even a little, it is here. In this black hell, that faint spark of hope shines like the sun.

Movement. 

At the end of the tunnel, lights grow brighter. Another torch has been added to their number. Footsteps echo in the stone cave. Alerted, he sits up. He pounces away from the wall. He crouches on the dank ground like an animal, claws raised, teeth bared. 

“Come closer, dearie.” His words are sweet as treacle, but he laces them with poison. “How kind of you to visit me in my loneliness!” 

There is a gasp at the end of the hallway, half-stifled. The visitor is afraid, but is trying not to show it. The footsteps hurry forward, soft and quick. The torchlight grows brighter as it comes closer. 

It is a hooded figure, he cannot see its face. The body is small, and the cloak is patterned with green and yellow leaves.

He knows that cloak. He made it himself.

He cannot get his hopes up. He is imprisoned in the stronghold of his enemies. No illusion is beyond the grasp of the Evil Queen or the Blue Fairy. Either one of them could be trying to deceive him. Trying to exploit his weakness for their own gain.

 Or madness could be taking over his mind. His own hope could be twisting around on itself, creating a vision of what he wants. The one thing he wants to see more than anything else in the world.      

“Come closer, I said!” His voice is rough with disuse, with emotion. In this pit of despair, he does not dare hope. He doesn’t want to believe that it could be…

“You cannot order me about, Rumpelstiltskin. Not anymore.” The voice is clear and beautiful, like clean water in the middle of a drought. The light stops moving when it fills his vision. The figure sets a torch in a sconce. Finally, he can see her. Her face. Her furrowed brow, her shaky smile.  “You must at least say please.”

“Please,” he breathes. 

It is a short fall, to go from crouching to kneeling, but being near Belle again requires nothing less. He must get on his knees to her--his wife, his love, his dearest wish. 

Trembling, he reaches through the pointed bars of his cell. Without hesitation, her hand clutches around his. She is on her knees as well. Her flesh is warm and soft.

“You’re real.” This is no trick. He knows it as surely as he knows anything. “You’re alive.”

She bites her lip as she looks at him. He must be filthy, haggard, even more hideous than usual. But she is not repulsed. Only full of pity. 

“What have they done to you?” she whispers. 

“Nothing I didn’t deserve.” He cannot think of his own troubles, not while she is in front of him. “How did you come to be here, my darling?”

“The guard tonight is a dwarf called Sleepy.” She puts on a brave face, tries to make a joke. “He lives up to his name.”

He cannot tear his eyes from her. “And you have made yourself at home in this castle?”

She nods. “Our plan worked. The Prince ‘rescued’ me. And the side of goodness proclaimed me as one of their own.”

“You are,” he sighs. He has never seen a sight more beautiful than the woman who loves him. “You are goodness, my love. The royals should count themselves lucky that they get to be on your side, let alone that you want to be on theirs.”

Her hand clenches around his. “I’m on your side,” she promises. “We are working together, even when we are apart.”

“Yes.” He holds her hand in both of his and brings it to his lips. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“And I miss you.” 

She reaches into his cage. She grasps at his clothes, pulling him closer. Their mouths meet between the iron bars. Her kiss is honey and sunshine and the breath of life. It is meat and blood and peace. He cannot get enough of her. He will never have enough of her. Not until they are truly together, when all the curses are broken and they can live the rest of their lives without fear. 

They break apart at the same time, both of them gasping for breath.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispers. “If they find you with me, they will lock you up as well. They will think you are evil. They will try to purify you with scourges and flaying.”

“I know,” she agrees. “But I couldn’t stay away. If only I could be with you always. I would stay with you, even in this terrible place.”

“I know.” He rests his forehead against hers. They breathe together, an act of unity just as important as a kiss.

After a moment, he steps back. There is space between their bodies now, though their hands still touch against the bars. He rubs his thumb over the smooth gold of her wedding ring. 

“How are they, up in the outside world?”

“Everyone is panicking over Regina’s curse. They’re trying to stop it, but they don’t know how.”

“If only they had the most powerful user of dark magic in the world trapped somewhere nearby with nothing to do but offer advice to anyone who asks.”

Belle’s pink lips quirk into a half-grin. “Perhaps they need a reminder of that fact.”

“And how is Snow White bearing her firstborn?”

“I haven’t spoken to her much. But I’ve heard that she is often brought low with melancholy. The Prince insists that there is a way to fight the curse, but she is losing hope.”

“Is she desperate?”

“She will be.”        

“Good.”

The Dark One trades in desperation. Much of his power comes from fear--not only the fear that people have of him, but of the things they fear so much that they are willing to pay him whatever he asks for. 

“The child,” he whispers. “Have they given it a name yet?”

Belle shakes her head. “In this land a prince or princess is not named until after it is born. There is a grand ceremony when the name is spoken for the first time and proclaimed to the whole kingdom.”

“We won’t have time for that,” he snarls. “The curse is coming! The name of the Savior has power. I must know what it is!”

“You will.” She soothes him. She presses her palm against his own. Their scars match up, at the place where they mingled their blood on their wedding day. “I believe in you. We will find a way.”

His breathing slows as her nearness cools his rage. “Together,” he agrees.

His wife looks over her shoulder. “They will change the guard soon.” She bites her lip. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to come back.”

“You shouldn’t come back.” He forces the words out. “You shouldn’t be here now.”

“Well you can take me over your knee when we see each other again.”

He snorts his surprise and amusement. She is too good, too perfect.

She looks over her shoulder again. “Before I go,” she says, “I have something to ask of you.”

“Anything, my love. Though I have little to give as I am now.”  

“It is something from your mind. Something to occupy your thoughts until we meet again.”

“What is it?”

“I want you to think of a name for our baby.”

His eyes widen. He blinks, several times. 

“Something you want to tell me, sweetheart?”

She smiles. “No, my love. Only that there is a future for us. Snow White is not the only person who can have an important child. We will be together again. And when we are, we will be a family. All of us.”

He nods. Already his mind is racing with every name he can think of. Names have power. The name of Belle’s child must be perfect. Meaningful. The enormity of the task is enough to fell him. What a brilliant woman his wife is! What a wonderful gift she has given him!

“Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you for reminding me that all of this is temporary.”

Her face breaks, but she keeps herself from weeping. “I love you so much, Rumple.”

She presses in to kiss him again. It lasts for an eternity. It is over too soon. 

Before she leaves, she offers him one last assurance: “I will see you again.”

****

Rumpelstiltskin spent the better part of a day in the jail cell of the Storybrooke sheriff station. Apparently Sheriff Swan was the only officer with the authority to release detainees, and her presence was required outside the station until later in the afternoon. 

She sent her heartfelt regrets.

He didn’t mind much. The Dark One had learned long ago that there was power in appearing to be at the mercy of his enemies. Captivity in particular had its advantages. No distractions, for one thing. There was nothing he could do now except think, and plan.   

Another advantage was that people would have to come to him. Someone had taken the cup that had belonged to Belle. Someone knew what that cup was, and what it meant to him. Someone had tried to draw him out. And someone would be thinking that their scheme had worked.

So someone would be stopping by to gloat.  

There was no doubt that the culprit knew what had happened by now.  Even if Mrs. Gold’s drunken outburst hadn’t drawn a crowd, news spread fast in a small town. Enough people had heard her shout at him in Granny’s. And enough people had seen Emma helping Mrs. Gold walk to the station. And by mid-morning enough people had noticed him in the holding cell. 

For a few hours, Rumpelstiltskin entertained himself by imagining how wild and salacious the rumors could get. Any fool would know that Gold and his wife had participated in a public shouting match, but what else could they think of? That he had used violence? That Mrs. Gold had fought back using her high heeled shoes as a weapon? That her father had rushed in to defend her and Gold had beaten him bloody with his cane? Gold’s reputation was as the most feared man in Storybrooke. Nothing was too outrageous to believe.  

That reputation had saved Rumpelstiltskin a lot of trouble in his dealings with the people of Storybrooke. Even now, at the piddling mercy of uniformed police officers, a glare and a sneer were enough to keep them away from him. Every one of them paid rent to him, or owed him something, and they were all keenly aware of it. He was in a cage, but they were the ones who were terrified.   

So they made themselves scarce. The station was practically empty by the time Emma waltzed in with a bag from Granny’s. Walking along the central office area, she pulled wrapped sandwiches out of the paper bag and set them on all the desks. Presumably, she knew her workers well enough to know what each would want for lunch. And she cared enough to get it for them, an act that would certainly endear herself to her subordinates. 

Emma pulled out the last sandwich from the bag and held it out as she walked over to the cell. “I figured you for a pastrami guy.”

Rumpelstiltskin let himself reach out and take the food. He held the oil-soaked paper bundle in both hands and didn’t open it. “Corned beef, actually.”

“I’ll remember that for next time you’re in here.” It was a joke, but it was also a threat. Emma leaned against one of the desks in front of the cell, facing him with her arms crossed over her chest. 

“I believe you mean the first time I actually commit a crime,” he countered. Getting her to put him in jail had been nothing but a bit of theater, a convenient way to keep Mrs. Gold from the same fate. They both knew he wasn’t being charged. 

“The next time I catch you trying to get a drunk woman to go home with you against her will.”

“Ah, well.” He shrugged, playing his part. “Given Mrs. Gold’s impulse control, I can’t make many promises on that topic.”

“If you’re trying to convince me that any part of this is her fault, that is not going to happen.”

He let her have that one without further argument. Emma Swan was smarter than most people in this town. She had the rare gift of First Sight--the ability to see things as they really were, and not how everyone knew they were supposed to be. Outside Storybrooke, it had probably been an advantageous skill. But here, in a place where reality itself was subject to the most powerful curse ever made, she was wrong even when she was right. 

Nothing Mrs. Gold’s life was her fault, that was true. But it wasn’t Rumpelstiltskin’s fault either. Gold had preyed upon a young woman. Regina had cursed them all. Emma was the only one who could fix everything, but not in the way she thought. Not in any way even someone as smart as her could imagine. 

He held up the sandwich. “Thanks for picking up lunch,” he said. “Do my tax dollars include dessert?”

Emma stood up straight, arms swinging with deliberate casualness. “You sit tight, Gold. I’ve gotta go find some paperwork before I can release you.”

She went out into the hallway, and Rumpelstiltskin knew he was in for at least another two hours of incarceration.

It didn’t matter. Emma thought she was punishing Gold, but really she was keeping Rumpelstiltskin free for a little while longer. 

He didn’t want to face Mrs. Gold. Interacting with her was torturous under regular circumstances. After last night--and the night before that, and the day in between--living with her would be nearly impossible. 

It had finally broken apart. The facade of a marriage that he had spent five months hiding behind had cracked and shattered. She had heard him call out to Belle. She accused him of infidelity. Even Mrs. Gold’s unwavering obedience to her husband had finally bent under the strain of Rumpelstiltskin’s neglect.  

Part of him was relieved. It was one thing to wear a mask in front of his enemies, but it was something altogether different to constantly deflect the attentions of a woman who only ever wanted to please him. She lived in his house, she was with him all the time. Until last night, they had slept in the same bed. It had worn on him, to have Belle’s body so near, so willing--and have to reject her again and again. Perhaps now Mrs. Gold would get it into her head to reject him.

Would she leave him? 

Long ago in their cursed life, Mrs. Gold had burned bridges with everyone she had known before her marriage. She had no support structure, no money of her own. Her job skills would be enough to get her part-time work at minimum wage--if anyone wanted to hire her. The woman’s reputation around town would scare away most respectable employers. Without Gold, she would have to go begging back to her already impoverished family. Or she could try to ingratiate herself with some other wealthy man in Storybrooke. Gold had often insulted his wife by calling her a whore, but what other option had he given her?

If nothing else, Rumpelstiltskin couldn’t allow that to happen. He wouldn’t let Mrs. Gold make any more reckless decisions with Belle’s body. Though the illusion of the marriage had dissolved, he would have to maintain control over Mrs. Gold somehow.

Probably through money, or comfort. At her core, Mrs. Gold was a practical woman. She knew that her relationship with Gold was a simple deal. If Rumpelstiltskin altered the deal, perhaps she wouldn’t make a fuss. 

An image from the night before floated through Rumpelstiltskin’s memory: Mrs. Gold, drunk and heartbroken, fighting against Emma in her need to lash out at him. “You’re supposed to love me, you bastard!”

Where had she gotten that idea? Gold had never allowed his wife to entertain notions of love between them. How could the way Rumpelstiltskin had been treating her possibly lead her to that conclusion? Mrs. Gold had said she loved him, when he had been dreaming of Belle. Had she been dreaming as well? 

Had Mrs. Gold been dreaming of her husband? Or had Belle been dreaming of Rumpelstiltskin? What was happening to the curse?

Emma came back with a manila file folder in her hand. She strode purposefully through the station, perfectly comfortable wielding her authority. She was truly the combination of her parents--a born princess and a seasoned war leader. She was the Savior, the curse-breaker. All he had to do was hold on until she started saving everyone.

There was a clear line of sight between the Sheriff’s office and the holding cell. Rumpelstiltskin watched as Emma put the folder she had just brought in at the bottom of a stack of similar files. He took that to be all the paperwork she would have to get through before she would deign to release him. 

****

After twenty minutes of industrious silence, the sound of running feet broke through the hallway outside. To Rumpelstiltskin’s ear, the running sounded happy, excited, young. A child with boundless energy, finally free to burst toward something they want.

Following the running was the methodical click of high heeled shoes. For a moment, Rumpelstiltskin thought that Mrs. Gold had come to the station. But no, these footsteps were more authoritative, businesslike.

He wasn’t surprised at all to see Henry Mills come bounding in to the station and make a beeline for Emma’s office. And of course Regina would be slinking right behind him.

“Sheriff Swan, I’m going to permit you half an hour with my son.” Regina announced this piddling allowance of time like it was a gift. “Take him out for ice cream.”

Rumpelstiltskin watched Emma’s eyes flit from Regina, to Henry, to the empty station, to himself, and then back to Regina. “You’re expecting me to leave you alone with a prisoner?”

Regina lifted her chin and looked straight ahead at the cell. “Twenty-nine minutes.”

This time, Emma’s look went only from Henry to Rumpelstiltskin. “Are you okay with this?”

He shrugged. “Bring me back a cone?”

Emma nodded to him, then spoke to Regina. “We will be right back.”

“Yes, you’ll have to be,” the Queen said smoothly. She stood still as Emma and Henry bustled around her, jabbering excitedly as they left. It really was remarkable how much both mother and son lit up when they were together. 

Rumpelstiltskin didn’t move. He stayed seated on the cell bench and let Regina come to him. She perched on the arm of the sofa in front of the holding cell. She had a large, black leather purse slung over one shoulder.

“Madame Mayor,” he said in tones low with menace. “To what do I owe this visit?”

“Mr. Gold, I think we might be able to help each other.”

The audacity of this woman. Under any other circumstance, she would have nothing to offer him. And yet…

“When two people each have something the other wants, a deal can always be struck.”

She gave him a tight smile. “I hoped you’d see it that way.”

“But do you have something I want?”

Instead of answering, Regina crossed her legs and pushed back the blazer of her smart business suit. “You know, all day I’ve been hearing the most terrible rumors about you and Mrs. Gold. I do hope everything is alright between you two.”

“My wife,” he said slowly, “has not been herself lately.”

“Or is it you who haven’t been yourself, Mr. Gold?”

He looked at her, impassive. “I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”

“I’m sure you do.” The Queen took her purse off her shoulder and set it on her knees.

Rumpelstiltskin tried not to stare at the bag. He looked instead at Regina’s face. “Why are you here?”

“Like I said, to help you. And to receive some help in return.”

“What do you have to offer me, dearie?”

“Not much,” she smirked. Without looking down, Regina reached into her purse and pulled it out. The chipped cup. “Just a… sentimental little keepsake.”

It took all of Rumpelstiltskin’s resolve not to leap to his feet and demand the cup. He wanted to break these steel bars and rip the cup from Regina’s hands--and rip her hands from her arms if she wouldn’t surrender it. That was Belle’s cup. This witch had no right to touch it!

Instead, he stayed still. All his energy, all his rage, focused on the cup. He focused on Regina, who dangled it by the handle.

“How?” he rasped. How had she known about the cup? How had he let his cover slip? How had she broken into Gold’s house?

“Flimsy locks,” she quipped. Then the Queen turned more serious. “I have power in this world, more power than you know.”

“But not enough,” he hissed. “You will never have enough power to beat me.” 

She shook her head. A faint chuckle entered her voice. “I already have. I know what your weakness is.”

Rumpelstiltskin swallowed and made himself shrug. “It’s just a cup.”

“But you want it,” Regina purred. “And you’ll give me what I want in order to get it back.”

“What is it that you want, dearie?”

“I want you to answer one question. And answer it simply.” She squared her shoulders before she asked: “What is your name?”

Rumpelstiltskin didn’t hesitate. “It’s Mr. Gold.”

The Queen glowered at him. “Your real name.”

“Every moment I’ve spent in this world, that has been my name.”

Regina leaned forward, closer to the bars. “What about moments spent elsewhere?”

He locked his eyes on hers. “What are you asking me?”

“I think you know.” Clearly her patience was running thin. “Tell me your name.”

And with a sly grin, he confessed: “Rumpelstiltskin.”

The deal done, he took the cup from Regina’s unresisting hands and cradled it in his own. He looked it over, making sure there was only one chip. Belle’s cup. Their cup. It was safe.

When he looked at Regina, she was fairly glowing with triumph. 

“What gave me away?”

“Belle did,” Regina said smugly. “I’ve been watching Mr. and Mrs. Gold for, well, a very long time now. I could see that something was wrong with her. But you seemed perfectly normal. Suspiciously normal.”

His own caution--his own commitment to playing the role of Gold--that was what had exposed him. Still holding the cup in both hands, Rumpelstiltskin sat back against the wall. “So,” he said, “as long as we’re being honest with each other, let’s remember how things used to be.”

“We used to work together,” Regina said, incorrectly. “You used to help me without so much… hostility.”

“That was before you ever came after what was mine, Your Majesty.” He shook his head and tutted. “You really should be more careful about who you make your enemy.”

“You mean my victim,” she sneered.

“And how much longer do you think that will last? Haven’t you noticed the curse getting weaker?”

“But I am just as strong as ever!” The Queen rose to her feet. She looked down on him with regal disdain. “You’re the one who’s letting your biggest weakness galavant all over town!”

Clutching the bars of the cell, Rumpelstiltskin pulled himself up to stand “For your sake, I hope that isn’t a threat.”

“Of course not.” Regina closed her purse and began to leave. “I’ve barely spoken to Mrs. Gold. I’m certainly not the one who brought her so much pain she got drunk in public and started crying in the street.”

With a satisfied smirk, Regina turned on her heel and left.  

****

Darkness had fallen by the time Emma officially let him out. Winter nights came early in Maine. If the sheriff noticed the teacup in his hands, she didn’t mention it. 

His first thought was to walk back to Granny’s where he had parked Gold’s car the night before. But then he remembered that he had given the keys to Mrs. Gold so she could take herself home. So he would have to walk to the house.

He only hoped that she would still be there when he arrived.  

The house was dark and the door was unlocked. Gold’s heavy ring of keys hung in plain sight on the first hook by the door. Rumpelstiltskin took the keys and put them in his pocket. Flimsy locks, Regina had said. She had broken into his house and stolen one of the things he valued most in the world--and he hadn’t noticed until it was too late. The cup could have been missing for days before he went into Gold’s study and saw that it wasn’t where he’d left it.

Would she attack his home again? Should he arrange to put double bolts on all the doors? Or was she just trying to toy with him? This was a world the Queen had made. It shouldn’t surprise him that she had her own ways to take anything she wanted from anyone. 

Noise came from one of the inner rooms. It took Rumpelstiltskin a moment to recognize the sound of the television in the living room. Gold had never cared much for the “idiot box,” so it had been an easy device for Rumpelstiltskin to ignore. 

He went toward the noise, turning on lights as he went through the house. In the living room off the kitchen, the only light came from the flashing bluish glare of the television. Mrs. Gold was sitting on the couch, curled in on herself under a blanket. She was staring vacantly at the screen, letting the sounds and images wash over her. 

Was it just the blue light, or was she paler than normal? The shadows of this dark room brought out the hollows in her cheeks and under her eyes. He could see the sheen of tear tracks on her skin. Unwashed hair hung limply around her face. Her lower lip was dark and swollen from where she had been biting it.

For a moment, Rumpelstiltskin didn’t move or speak. Mrs. Gold hadn’t noticed his arrival. Briefly, he wondered if she was drunk again. If she was trying to deaden the pain of her existence by deadening every other sense. But no, there were no bottles anywhere nearby. Mrs. Gold’s pain by itself was enough to deaden her senses.  

He turned on a lamp and let a soft golden glow invade the harsh blue. Mrs. Gold jumped out of her daze. Unlike other times when Rumpelstiltskin had surprised Mrs. Gold, she didn’t hop to attention like a trained animal. She didn’t stand up and present her body for his approval, she didn’t kneel before him like a slave. Instead, Mrs. Gold sank back into the corner of the couch. She wrapped the blanket tightly around herself. Her eyes were wide as she looked at him in silence.  

She was afraid. 

When she had looked at him like this before, Mrs. Gold had been afraid of what she knew was coming. She knew how cruel her husband was, what the consequences were of displeasing him. But now it seemed she was afraid of the unknown. She had said it herself: All that matters is that I don’t know who you are. Whether she knew it or not, Mrs. Gold was afraid of Rumpelstiltskin.  

“Hi,” he said softly. He tried not to alarm her any further.

“Hi,” she answered, still staring at him. She didn’t let her guard down. She muted the television and turned to face him.

“I… I didn’t know if you would still be here.”

Mrs. Gold shrugged. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.” She broke their eye contact and  looked down. “I didn’t know if yo u would let me come back if I left.”

Rumpelstiltskin clenched his fist around his cane. Was her uncertainty a reflection of Gold, or of himself? Gold had done so much to hurt his wife, but Rumpelstiltskin was the one who had hurt her most recently. He was the one who had made her like this.

“Mrs. Gold,” he said. “Please, I know things are… confusing right now. But please know that this is always your home, and I will always provide for you.”

“Why?” The word was a whisper in a silent house, but it carried all the weight of the world. “You’re not fucking me. You don’t even like me. Why do you bother with me?”

The chipped cup was still in his hand. He set it down on an end table and moved to sit in one of the high-backed chairs across from the couch. Rumpelstiltskin leaned forward, his arms on his knees as he spoke to Mrs. Gold. 

“Because I have a duty to you,” he answered. “I have a responsibility to care for you.”

She snorted and shook her head. 

“To take care of you,” Rumpelstiltskin amended. “I owe you that much, Mrs. Gold. It is the absolute least I can do.”

 “How nice of you.” Her voice shook with bitterness. “How super fucking charitable! How long will that last, do you think? How long until you get tired of doing the least you can do?”

Mrs. Gold’s hands twisted in the blanket. Her face screwed up into the picture of unspoken agony. She let her hair hang over her face and took a few ragged, sobbing breaths.   

He wanted to go to her. He wanted to comfort her. Belle or not, she was a woman in pain and he knew that he could soothe her. That was the least he could do.

But he didn’t.

He couldn’t.

He stayed in the chair, shoulders slumped, and waited for her to calm herself. 

“Mrs. Gold,” he tried, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t be the man you married.”

A sharp intake of breath. “Is that it?” On the couch, Mrs. Gold was shaking. “Are we… Is it over? Us? Our marriage?”

“No,” Rumpelstiltskin spoke before he could think. “No, I want you with me, dear. I don’t… I don’t want us to be separated.” 

“But you don’t want us to be together.” She wiped her cheek with the palm of her hand. “Not like we were before.”

“I know it’s complicated,” he said. “I wish I could tell you more. Truly I do. But right now let’s just say that I have enemies and you are better off under my protection. All I’m asking is for you to trust me.”

She let out a shaking breath that could have been a laugh or a sob. “Does Belle trust you?”

It was a strange thing to hear Mrs. Gold say. Belle’s voice, saying her own name with so much suspicion and loathing.

“Yes,” he answered. “Belle trusts me with her life, though I’m not always worthy of it.”

For a long time, Mrs. Gold didn’t say anything. She shook her head, rocking slightly on the couch as tears streamed silently down her face. 

And Rumpelstiltskin sat there. Doing nothing. 

When Mrs. Gold was able to speak, she asked him: “Why aren’t you with her now?”

“With Belle?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “I mean, you’re still a man who can get whatever he wants. If she’s so important to you, why aren’t the two of you together?”

Rumpelstiltskin sighed, trying to think of something plausible to say. “We want to be,” he started. “But, well, Belle is very far away from me right now.”

“What, does she live in fucking Australia or something? Or is she married too?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said in a tone he knew would make Mrs. Gold drop the topic. “What matters is that I have a responsibility to you, and I’m not going to shirk that just because I’m in love with someone else.”

Mrs. Gold winced, but then it turned into a grim smile. “Never thought I’d hear you say that you loved anyone, Mr. Gold. That’s why I never took it personally that you didn’t love me.” Abruptly, she stood up. “I’ll move my clothes over to the guest bedroom.”

“You can have the master--”

“No,” she cut him off. She seemed to have run out of emotions, and was now running on brutal practicality. “You need the bathroom in the master suite because of your leg. I won’t have as hard a time with the tub in the hall bathroom.”

“That’s… very thoughtful of you.”

“I’ve had a lot of time to think.” She sighed and turned off the muted television. Now her half of the room was in darkness. “Believe it or not, this isn’t the worst deal you could have offered me.”

“What deal?” Rumpelstiltskin asked. He had been trying to be honest with her. He wasn’t aware that they had been negotiating. 

“A loveless marriage for a life of comfort.” She kept herself busy by folding her blanket and putting it away in a cedar chest. She didn’t look at him. “It is mostly the same as what we had before.”

Rumpelstiltskin stared at her as she walked out of the living room.

“Good night, Mr. Gold,” she said formally. “I’m glad you found your teacup.”

By the time he gathered himself enough to speak, she was already upstairs. A door slammed, and Rumpelstiltskin hung his head. 

So this was the future he was going to have with his wife.