#i can excuse murder but i draw the line at the age gap in that relationship

[kyouka-supremacy]

ODAZAI? But- the age gap- c'mon, when they spent time together (before oda died), dazai was like 14-16 and oda was already a full-fledged adult 🙁

Sweetheart this is a sskk blog?????

[rationalisms]

"i can excuse murder and manipulation but i draw the line at age gaps" is really common in my fandom too and i really don't understand it. what makes one okay but not the other? so weird

i guess it's to do with, like... murder being a thing they have an easier time abstracting into a fictional concept than something that has more direct relevance to their real life? which i guess is understandable, but using whatever is more upsetting to you personally as the moral framework to judge other people by is really silly imo.

like, there's absolutely nothing wrong with drawing the line somewhere seemingly arbitrary and specific depending on your personal comfort on what kind of fiction you're willing or able to interact with. i certainly have some topics i am just not comfortable ever engaging with, even if they are maybe not "objectively worse" than some other narratives or dynamics i don't mind at all. but you gotta accept that where other people draw that line will often be different and that's fine, too. literally just mute/block if it upsets you to see it and move on.

[bansheeoftheforest]

Well, my wifi is not back, and wont be anytime soon. The very earliest luckiest would be getting it back by Tuesday (unlikely). The very worst my house burns down so theres that /lh /hj

This sucks so much because I really cannot read asks I dont see in real time, I have the same amount of reading comprehension for them as I do Frankenstein XD

Dm me links to any important syndicate asks I miss while I'm gone 👍

-

Bannnnnn I tried to draw the Jekyll brothers but Kent? Is inconsistent? The database (what I use) showd him as a clean shaven guy with a bit messy hair but google is showing Kent as a completely different model? Neat hair, Brokenshire beard. Like it's the ingame "identify" zoom in and I cant check whats right before I already killed himmmm

Anyway here art <3. I know I said I'd draw the DTIYS first but art inspiration is stored in the Syndicate au <3

-

Also I've been thimking about Henry wearing a mask +plus ponytail to hide his identity like for the past two days. Yknow those theater masks? The weeping and laughing? He wears the sad one while in the Blighters and Templars and the happy one while in the Rooks because hes a dramatic theater nerd. Also! I like to think that if Jekyll has to be a templar he'd still wear the Blighter uniform when he could and pretend hes not high ranking. He gets away with it because Crawford doesn't care about him and Roth lives for chaos

I also drew Henry in a mask and ponytail but it's not done yet 😔

-

Also I did the math the the twins are 3 years older than Jekyll. Like thank goodness first of all because I fully went into ship entirely unaware on if there were canon ages or a scary difference. But also Jacob being 3 years older than Henry is kinda funny to me

-

All of Evie's outfits (besides her default) are bad and I'm gonna fist fight the designers because the secrets of london (where I only searched the locations of 3) is so bad, especially with the effort needed. How did they do Jacob so good, but utterly fail with Evie /lh

NOOOOOOO D: Man, I really hope you will get it back asap, and also that your house don't burn down!!

Man, if I don't know your struggle rn. However I shall do my best to link you to every syndicate ask that I will get from here on out bc I don't tend to get small asks for that au so <3

--

Huh-- oh wow you're right. I wonder if it is a set design or just a bit on random depending on the save file... I killed him a long ass time ago so I have absolutely no idea how he looked like <3

EITHER WAY OH MY GOD IT LOOKS AAMZING. I love??? How you gave all three individual personalities in just a single picture??? Kent looks like he is seconds away from murder and I LOVE Henry in the templar outfit, it fits him so well??? Man I really want to start thinking more of this branch. Would the entire Jekyll family be Templars so the trio got that role inherited? Are Raphael and Kent unidentical twins and Henry is the odd-one-out because he is the youngest? Were the three of them really close in Scotland, but left as soon as possible bc their family was abusive, only for Kent and Raphael to find refuge in the Templar Order while Henry goes to university? Would they still have that brotherly love if they were close as kids even when they are in the Order, or would they have a falling out and start despising each other (or Jekyll @ the older brothers at least)? Would Raphael and Kent secretly be protective of Henry and manage to keep him out of Starrick's line-of-sight so that Henry won't get in trouble for defying orders/ignoring them? Would they force Henry to join the Templars with threats or would Henry mostly feel obligated to join them? Since the Templar Order isn't illegal in London, would other people know that Jekyll is a Templar, or would he keep it hidden from the public? Would his brothers help hide his identity?? SO many questions and I'm so sad I won't be able to discuss them with you :'c

(also can I just say I love the poetic differences between their clothing. Raphael is just wearing a waistcoat/basic clothes and he is a brute and more open, Kent is wearing more clothes/layering up and he is the "brains" out of the two of them, Jekyll is wearing the most layers and is almost trying to hide himself and I just... *chief's kiss*)

--

Henry being a dramatic theater nerd and stealing Roth's costume supplies to hide his identity bc he is so ashamed of it and doesn't want people he knows to know about it my beloved <3 Plus the blighter uniforms doesn't look too far off of what he normally wears so he could probably use that as an excuse whenever some other Templar gets up his ass about not wearing the right clothes, yet it still doesn't make Henry feel any better knowing he has to bear the knowledge that he is actively wearing discreet blighter clothes to keep the Order happy and the public oblivious, knowing what cause he is reluctantly supporting. (him joining the rooks and suddenly coming into the Society all dressed in green lol)

Anyways I have now also decided that Maxwell and Henry are friends bc they both hate the Templars and Crawford and Henry gets to star in many of the plays he sets up. Plus they are both slightly insane so they match each other good.

YKNOW WHAT I WAS DAYDREAMING ABOUT WHILE BRUSHING MY TEETH RIGHT AFTER THIS ASK? Jekyll being forced to be the one to murder his brothers and the twins trying to track the murderer down just to know who tf are killing their targets, conveniently at the same time Maxwell starts meeting Jacob. Henry watching Jacob from afar getting smitten by him but keeping a distance bc he knows Maxwell is possessive, Jacob being the first to befriend Henry after Maxwell explains that both of them are against the Templars and Crawford, Jacob saving Henry during the fire of the theater? Yes pls <3

--

Thank god bc here I was imagining an age gap of like idk 15 years bc of the differences in the timeline but! I'm just going to keep the canonical age difference while also shoot the timeline up a lil so that the events of Syndicate and TGS takes place at the same time but they are the right age and stuff, just bc I do not like Evie's and Jacob's older designs and I do not want to imagine them meeting during the Ripper dlc <3 Also the thought of Jacob being older than Henry is funny. I think Henry has a type /j

-

They are so fucking bad and I'm going to scourage the Nexus to see if I can find any good redesign mods because they are so fucking bad. But to be fair, all female main characters' outfits are bad. Pearl? Lucy Thorne? Mfs looks like vampires. Even more reasons for why I only play Jacob, bc all other outfits on Evie are bad <3

[askaceattorney]

Dear Anonymous,

That’s probably because the maker of Inga’s sprites requested that they keep the link to them a secret.  I doubt we’ll ever use his gun sprites in a letter though, so here are the talking and non-talking ones:

(Link in Letter)

Dear Anonymous,

That's an interesting theory, all right, but I doubt it would hold up in court (either in the Ace Attorney universe or the real world).  Either way, from what I remember, it seems to like the game tried to make it clear that he was the culprit behind Manov’s death, completely for the sake of revenge.  Even if he didn’t, the guy clearly has some anger to work out, so hopefully a prison sentence will do him some good.  That’s my less-hot take, anyway.

Dear Anonymous,

Clever, but I doubt puppy eyes are enough to sway His Honor’s opinion.  Heck, I doubt he even knows an iPhone from a Gameboy Color.

(Previous Letter)

Dear trearoos,

Rrroooo got it!  That’s a line from Bubs, by the way.  I can’t remember where he said it, though...  Think you could help a fellow Homestar fan out?

Dear skibot99, 

I’ll do my best at answering, though.  I like to think of ask blogs as a way to “fill in the blanks” by showing what characters are like when they aren’t fulfilling their role in their game, movie, book, etc.  For example, what’s Sonic like when he isn’t busy thwarting Dr. Eggman’s plans, what’s Donkey Kong like when things are peaceful on his island, and what’s Henry Stickmin like when things are (ahem) normal in his world?  And if the character happens to be a silent protagonist (ex. Mario, Link, Kirby, etc.), that’ll give you even more blanks to fill in, which makes it more challenging, but also more fun.

So, the key ingredients for an ask blog are a deep love and knowledge of the series your character(s) are from and a good imagination.  If you know what your characters are like in their series and can fill in the rest with your imagination, it’ll be easy for your followers to go along with the illusion that they’re really talking to people from a fictional universe, which should be your main goal, aside from just having fun with it.  As long as you can make it convincing and fun, there’s no real right or wrong way to do it.

I don’t know very much about the Kingdom Hearts series, but I assume there aren’t any sprites you can grab from a resource page, so you’d either have to make drawings of the characters, find some still images, or clip some from gameplay videos (or even make gifs from them if you’re feeling up to it).  It might take some work to get it the way you want it, but like a lot of things, it gets easier over time.  And in my experience, the best source of motivation is your love for the series and its fandom, so keep that in mind if it starts getting burdensome.  I hope that helps!

(Previous Post)

Dear starry-nightengale,

It was an announcement so much as something that wasn’t announced.  That letter was in reference to TGS 2020, which, unless I missed something, didn’t mention a new entry in the Ace Attorney series.  That may not be solid proof that it’s reached the end, but that’s what it’s beginning to look like.

But, as I mentioned before, the fandom’s nowhere near dying, so that’s good news, at least.

Dear Anonymous,

It’s an interesting idea, but I can’t say I feel the same way (and not just because I’m a closet Justicykes shipper).  Besides their considerable age gap, I see their relationship as more of a big-brother-and-little-sister one.  Whether they’re on the same side or opposing each other, Simon can’t seem to resist the opportunity to tease Athena, but he also knows how to provide help whenever she needs it.  In his own way, at least.

I also have a hard time picturing Simon in a romantic relationship with anyone, to be honest.  I’m not saying it’s impossible, but any hopeful candidate would have to put up with his moodiness, his twisted humor, and his equally moody feathered friend.  I’m sure there might be someone out there who can deal with all that, but finding them would be a big challenge, to say the least.

Dear clowncomputing2,

Not at the moment, unfortunately.  I don’t know about the other Mods, but I haven’t watched the anime, and even if I had, making sprites from it would be a bit tricky.  Perhaps that’ll happen somewhere down the road, but for now, characters and cases from the anime are off limits.  Sorry.

Dear Anonymous,

Youse talkin’ to me!?

Dear skibot99 again,

For me, it’d have to be Tahrust Inmee.  That might seem unfair, considering his murder was that of himself, but let’s not forget that he was willing to let an innocent woman and her lawyer lose their lives in order to hide the truth.  Normally, this would be enough to give me an overall negative view of a character, but his motive was to protect his wife and unborn child from certain death.  That may not excuse his actions, but it did put him between a rock and a hard place.  I’m honestly not sure what I would be tempted to do in his situation, but I know it’d be a difficult decision.

I definitely feel for Yanni Yogi, too, but we weren’t given as many details about his past, plus his only motive was revenge, so my sympathy for him isn’t quite as strong.  While we’re talking about tragic culprits, I should also mention Simon Keyes, who “was himself a victim,” as Edgeworth worded it, as well as the almost-killer Katherine Hall, who just wanted to find whoever was responsible for her adopted father’s unjust prison sentence.  Not to mention the overload of remorse she displayed afterward.

(Previous Letter)

Dear trearoos again,

Yep, I’ve been a fan of the Henry Stickmin series since Infiltrating the Airship.  I’ve been meaning to buy the collection, but haven’t made the time for it just yet.  I’m looking forward to seeing all the fails.

In the meantime, here’s some distraction for you:

Dear mungeondaster,

Not yet, but I like what I’ve seen of it...which mostly just includes the blooper reel (Strong Language Warning).  Your description of it makes it sound even more enticing, so maybe I'll get around to it soon.  I've been aching to give something a Co-Mod Seal of Approval lately, anyway.

-The Co-Mod

[alatismeni-theitsa]

answering anon anti LO asks // S1 Finale

Questions and Answers under the cut, cause this is gonna be long!

(1) Go figure that the LO stans on here are praising Persephone for going evil and killing innocent mortals for PICKING FLOWERS. Do they know by their own logic persephone would murder them too? Over nothing? No wonder the average reader of it is only in their teens, they can’t tell deities are supposed to protect humans, not treat them like playthings to abuse and kill for any minor annoyance. 

(2) Wait, so when LO has Demeter starving mortals we’re supposed to see her as a cruel, unredeemable monster, but Persephone is empowered and in the right for murdering mortals because they picked flowers that killed nymphs she didn’t even like? How does that logic work out? How is that fair? Where the justice? Why can’t this spoiled child be held accountable for her own sins?

(3) I was disappointed in lo finale. Everyone talked how great and creppy it looked and i thought since it was a finale they would put some effort in making it  look better than usual. But this episode was like every episode-art was ok but not great. In my opinion it was worse than most of episodes bc in every episode there is 1-4 really good looking panels but in this one i didnt see nothing. They could put more effort into "persephone crazy killing moment" and in rest of panels since it was final.

(4) I just read finale... it's bad. And confusing. I think Persephone didn't murder the nymphs herself, they just died because of the villagers while she was yelling at them?? The pacing is really awkward in some moments, and the fact that most people seem to be cheering on her is just... ugh. Also some people are getting angry that she probably will be punished but not Apollo (for now), which is just weird because... sexual assault is horrible, sure, but it's not the same as literal MASS MURDER.

(5) Apparently the LO fandom is ripping each other apart on here trying to either justify Persephone's actions or the other half calling everyone awful and toxic because they're blindly supporting evil actions and how she's now irredeemable. You love to see it. I'm getting the popcorn as we speak.

(6) One thing i find so weird about LO is that there's such a weird emphasis on how Hades looks SO much older than Persephone to where she's confused for his kid. First off, why even mention that when so many are already creeped out by the age gap? Second, how can we tell? The character design is not good at showing this beyond making her looking like a ten year old or making him dress all dorky. Third, if he's actually that old looking then maybe Persephone has some daddy abandonment issues.... 

(7) Recently smythe posted on twitter drawing of Hades and giant Persephone wich looked like rhea. Its weird bc its not a first time smythe make persephone and rhea very similliar. For example thanatos description of persephone was perfect description of rhea. Maybe smythe wants to make story more greek by making hades have edyp complex XD

(8) I feel like a big problem with LO is it has no idea what it wants to be. Is it a teen drama? A comedy? A modern retelling? A coming of age story? A giant epic? A romance? A social commentary? Because i don't understand how we're supposed to reconcile Persephone being a naive college sophomore, a future (likely violent and cruel) queen, AND mass murderer all at once. If this was spread over several seasons and a long stretch of time i could get it, but it's only been two weeks in comic!

____________________________________________________________

(1) As people from the fandom are saying, some readers are really projecting themselves to those characters so they will justify anything. Technically, the humans who picked flowers in the sacred place were on the wrong. BUT they didn’t know that picking flowers in this place killed nymphs. Persephone could punish them like a just goddess, but slaughtering them is just... evil. And you are right, those teens don’t treat the Greek gods as deities or even cultural figures.

(2) You should know by now that “plain” protagonist with big boobs = good. This is how pop culture works! 😅

(3) I fully agree with you in every point! Smythe needs help with the comic when it comes to pacing and art. Yes, MORE HELP

(4) Yes, from my understanding she wasn’t the one who killed them. Humans happen to gather flowers at this moment and this killed the nymphs. (which is not a thing in Greek mythology BUT OK). I know that it’s very cruel to “compare” crimes but, unfortunatelly, we have to do it in this case. (Because the narrative will push us to think that Persephone is the more just of those two.) LO Persephone deserves more punishment than LO Apollo for what she has done (if the allegations are true).

(5) I think I should see these posts and have some of that hot tea! It’s interesting to see that some people justify Persephone. “She got very mad!!“ they say, as this this an excuse for killing a whole town of people who did nothing. I also watched them say “marrying Hades will be her punishment for what she did“. In what world marrying one of the mightiest and richest gods WHO ALSO LIKES YOU AND WHOM YOU LIKE a punishment for massacre? Also, Hades is a corporation now so it’s not like she will be locked there if she goes.

(6) In the recent video I posted, which had an analysis on LO, it’s specualted that Smythe has a kink for big age gaps and different sizes of people. Hades would probably look like a man in his forties? (The man whom Smythe would fancy). But I agree the character design is terrible and I cannot tell exactly what age he is supposed to look like.

(7) So THIS is how she chose to include Greek culture into the story 😂 Also, the picture is probably a reference to Blade Runner or another sci fi movie, where the protagonist has lost his AI gf and then he realizes she was just a product, after he watched a AI woman just like her on a big screen talking to him. (Link)

(8) This is very true. I had these questions inside me but they were under the surface and never bothered me much. But I think the comic has no clear line, atmosphere, audience etc. Young teens and people over 25 are fans of it. But I don’t think it’s deep enough to have social commentary xD We all suspect that the actions of Persephone will be excused in the end.

[juazz5ever]

“cp” problem in art

i wanted to address this topic a long time ago but never dared to bc of the backlash i might get...

we all know how problematic this topic is in the art community and is still very controversial today... about drawing “cp”. I put it in quote bc i do not label that art as such, simply bc it is not. if i ask: is drawing minors having sex morally wrong ? ppl wouldnt think twice and say yes but let me reword it: how it drawing minors having sex morally wrong ? its not. here’s why (and before anyone tries to shame me, i did live csa and i dont need to prove it)

the reason why art like that would make someone uncomfortable is bc of the character’s “ages” and/or appearances. art is very subjective, so from a style to another, its hard to tell what looks like an adult and what doesnt (look at bnha style its very simple and moe) but also, basing only on the character’s look is just...wrong, petite women dont get to choose to look like this, when someone is dating a petite women, they dont get called a pedo (and if you do, you’re shaming that women.. congrats,, they dont like being treated like a child bc they fucking arent) 

for the character’s age, it would make more sense... but also not. the author get to pick the age, so they can pick whatever they want no matter what the character looks like, so even if they look 10 (bc of their style) they can say they’re 40.. so they get a pass ????? makes no sense. aging up characters is just an excuse for ppl to not be bashed for making such art, but they really dont need to bc.. it doesnt change a thing?? (eg giorno is apparently 15, is rippied as fuck, he joins a mafia gang, kills people, become the fucking boss, and ppl will only shit on artists who make art of him fucking... really ?)

so if the appearance and the age dont explain it, what makes “cp” art “problematic” ? csa/cp is problematic bc not only it involves irl children/minors, there is a difference of power (inequality). that’s the real problem. why do you think we put laws about it and tell teens “dont date ppl too old for you, you dont know what they want from you” is bc one will abuse their power on the other. ppl who live csa are traumatized and will never live the same.. but fictional characters fucking dont. so when you draw two teen having sex or a big age gap, this art is not traumatizing or ruining anyone’s life 

it’s just like murder/violence and all sensitive topics used in medias, in a game you kill ppl and even if its bad, you dont say anything.. why ? bc you know it’s not real, you know it dosent involve real people, bc your brain can do the difference between fiction and reality. while yes fiction does affect reality, art like this doesnt hurt any kid nor send any message that cp is okay

this leads me to my another point, i dont remember the article (and i hope it’s not true bc otherwise, its pretty fucking sad) is the ppl trying to report artists about this, this not only bothers/hides the real cases going on, its actually hurting kids who are actually abused bc they will think you wanna file a false report of rick and morty porn art

also treating that kind of art is trivializing the issue. “actually, the art itself is trivializing the issue” no no, the ppl who treats it as real cp are trivializing it bc you’re telling me that few lines/colours on a screen is the fucking same as a child being traumatized/abused for the rest of their life. yes it’s just a fucking drawing dont compare it to someone’s life/trauma

i know there seems to be a lot of grey areas (and yes there is) but art like shota or very realistic.. well they all get a pass bc, its still just art, but i do admit i dont like shota, at all, but i rather let this pass than real cp. BUT for irl ppl that are minor, what is wrong with you? dont ever portray an irl minor in a sexual way, they are kids/teens and you view them as lewd material, you really need help

also you should never judge someone about that bc for a lot of ppl, art like this is their coping mechanism for their csa/other trauma, and you shaming them doesnt help at all. im not saying all coping mechanism are inherently good, but this one is harmless and you bashing them only makes things worse...

i dont think i pointed out everything about that issue, but im open for other opinions.

ill conclude with that, im not telling people to draw that kind of art, im asking for people to stop cancelling and calling out artist “pedo’ over something so stupid (yall made the word pedo so... trivial) but it’s ok to dislike the art, you can hate it, it’s fine, just dont police around

you gatekeepers are the problem.

[femmefurina]

antis are like "I can excuse arson, murder, and torture, but I draw the line at age gaps" and the characters in question are like, 33 and 40.

[saizoswifey]

Night Time Is Quiet Time

{SaizoxReader}

Genre: N//SFW / Angst Word Count: 9.034 Summary: Follow Saizo on a mission from Iga and witness the hardships that shape who he is.   A/N: I have been wanting to write a series of pieces following Saizo on missions for a while now. We always see him leave and come home but never the in-between and the intense situations he must face time and time again. The events of this story are not completely in chronological order, so I hope it won’t be too difficult to follow. Thank you so much for reading and I truly hope you guys enjoy this despite it being quite a bit darker than I usually post.  Additional Content/Trigger Warnings: Mention of young girls death(not shown), Blood, Blood mention, Death, Murder, Gore, N//SFW, Vaginal penetration, Unprotected sex  AO3: Read Here

_________________________

     Alone. He had found her there, alone—the young girl inside. Stashed like she was a mere sack of kitchen scraps, her bruised body carelessly tossed in a rocky crevice that lay inside of a shallow cave, hidden by a thickly wooded area. Her limbs still, twisted and bent in that unnatural way reserved only for the dead. There was much blood. But his eyes, sharp and unwavering in the face of death after all these years, were concentrated now on a particular spot. A smearing of red on her lips that stretched to her pale cheek. Spidering out the right side as if a Higanbana had sprouted from her stilled blue mouth. Morbidly fitting considering they were near a river, he thought.

     A sudden palpitation from her chest had dark understanding pulling at his features and he withdrew a short blade to end the last of her suffering. Saizo brought it to her flesh; just as pale, slicing just as easily under the sharpness, as silken tofu. Simple, clean.

     Now that she was at rest he reached into one of his many hidden pockets to retrieve a small wooden top. He held it between his thumb and forefinger for a moment, inspecting it one last time. It wasn’t very large or ornate. Stripes of alternating red and blue had begun to fade with wear from its surface. It was carved from relatively light wood and there were obvious nicks he could both see and feel cut into the surface. Proof the child had used it well.

     Lowering himself onto one knee he placed it to the inside of her small palm with a delicate nature. Something inside of him stirred as he felt her cold hand pressed in his own, and he took a few moments to let that chill seep into him. A form of penance, perhaps. He could choke out some form of apology, but words were never more useless than at a time like this. It would only serve to drape another dark layer of senselessness onto the already haunting scene, and it damn sure wouldn’t make him feel any better.

     He removed her hairpin; a small sakura blossom that would never again see another spring. Then he left.

_____

     This day started as many did for Saizo. Following a sleepless night where he counted your breaths and poked an index finger, ever so gently, into various places while you slept to see just how much of a reaction he could elicit without actually waking you. A kiss as light and fleeting as an early winter snowflake on your cheek.

     He left the room you shared while he could still see his breath billowing and dissipating in the pale moonlight. Though, he wasn’t cold. In fact, the days had become increasingly warm as of late. A good and bad thing for shinobi. People stayed inside at night when it was cold. People hurried home when it was chilly. Now that the temperatures were rising you could find the streets filled with children and drunks longer and later into the evening. A greater chance he could be spotted.

     He made good time in his travel despite the mountainous terrain. The soil and grass beneath his feet gradually began to soak in the warmth of the day, the heat creeping up his limbs like a root draws water. When the sun was at its highest and there were signs he was approaching the river he sat on a large moss-covered rock and quickly ate a piece of dried fish. When he looked to the trees he saw Utsusemi among the gathering of crows, and she flew to perch herself on his shoulder. He didn’t say anything to her, just held a bit of fish for her to peck at and then stroked a finger over her feathers for a while in comfortable silence.

     Normally he hated traveling so far for a mission, but it had been a while since he’d done anything for the village and even he could only keep them off his ass for so long. He stretched the ache in his legs underneath the sunlight, but only for a moment, knowing it was foolish to remain on the ground or in one place for too long.

     The dried fish finished and his familiar flapping her black wings, making herself hidden in the distant branches once more, Saizo took to the trees knowing it would be the most opportune way to remain undetected now that he was so close to the village. As he made his way he often thought of you, the way you looked before he left. Peaceful, hair strewn about the bedding in that sleepily careless fashion. The taste of your dango, but more often than not, the taste of you. And the following weeks he would curse for keeping you apart.

_____

     “How many.”

     “Four, that we are aware of.”

     “That’s not very many…” Saizo cast his eyes to the side with a slight huff of annoyance.

     “One is more than enough, I should think,” the lord barked in reply, obviously unamused with Saizo’s lack of concern regarding the situation at hand. He snapped a fan open, fluttering his wrist back and forth in order to cool his fat face.

     There was warm tea poured into an ornate cup and set in front of Saizo. He did not drink.

     “Excuse me milord, but, the number has grown to nine presently,” a retainer corrected from the side of the room.

     “And you’re sure they didn’t simply elope with some young lovers from this village or the next,” Saizo inquired, face fallen back to that serious, unreadable mask.

     “Of course not. But that does not mean my suspicions are misguided, either.” His voice had picked up a haughty tone, and Saizo imagined how fulfilling it would be to reach out across the tatami between them and twist his neck to silence.

     “I’m simply making sure my time is not wasted on an impasse to discovering some village girl died in the woods gathering nuts.”

     The retainer cleared his throat to announce himself once more. “What milord means to inform you of, is, while the reported missing did contain some of marrying age, a few were of the…younger variety, as well.”

     Children. When Kiyohiro had dropped down from the eaves like a harbinger bat hailing from cave pain-in-the-ass, he had told him the mission involved missing women. That he’d been paid to sniff out the perpetrators and when they were uncovered…to do what the Lord Assassin does best. So this fat faced lord could get his daughter married off without interruption. And that would be just fine with Saizo. The minds of women and the men who would take them were easy enough to figure out. But children…that was not discussed.

     “Are you up to the task?” The Lord asked. However, his tone made it clear it was not a question but a challenge to Saizo’s skill, and a scowl deepened the lines in his face as he watched the tea in front of Saizo grow cold and untouched.

     “It’s going to cost you extra,” Saizo replied.

     The Lord slammed his fan down in anger. “Iga already agreed to and accepted our payment for this!”

     Saizo smirked, unflinching where he sat on the tatami. “By all means, try your luck with someone else and risk your daughter's marriage squashed under your own greedy heel when her intended finds out you can’t even control criminal activity in your own village. They’ve told you who I am. My reputation?” Saizo stood up from the floor, not bothering to be dismissed. “I am Iga, as far as you’re concerned. And I say it’s going to cost you more.”

_____

     He has a room just below, instead, Saizo lay with his back to the cold hard roof of the inn. His arms are stretched up above him, reaching for the moonlight that illuminates his widespread fingers, but the outline of his arm seems to wave and blur. Flex, fist, flex, fist—he opens and closes while inspecting them with narrowing eyes. The backdrop of glittering stars dotting the wash of dark blue sky makes the rest of the world feel hundreds of miles away. If only that were true. Even when the drunken footsteps and the giggles echoing from the mouths of dark alleys fades away, when he no longer smells the fragrant wafts of vegetables and spices cooked over flame, when all else has gone silent; there is still the wind. It shakes the leaves though he can no longer hear their rustle, curling around him like smoke, inculpatory and condemning whispers snaking along every knotting whorl. Reminding him.

     If his fists clenched any tighter he’d draw blood. And in the end, the will to avoid any more of that coppery stench wins out and sees him unfurl his fingers from his roughened palm one by one. And then all he can manage is a self-deprecating laugh, but even that doesn’t come out right. His jaw is too clenched, his throat is too tight and dry, his chest too heavy. The thin air pushes out with a strangled sound, like the whisper of the dead. Drawn out and haunting. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it was the precursor to a sob. A lifeless wheeze, which makes him want to laugh all the more, but squeezing water out of rocks felt easier than getting his lungs to produce air enough for that right now.

     Two days, maybe three. His fever would alleviate, his minor wounds would mend enough. Two days, and he could be back to the Saizo that people waited for. Until then, he’d lay here and submit to the spinning, spinning, spinning, spinning, spinning.…

_____

     He stepped through the noren and there was not a soul in sight to greet him. Empty tables and dusty streams of sunlight bursting from gaps in the wood and windows to illuminate barren tables of the restaurant. Had he been anyone else, the old boards beneath his feet would have creaked out his presence. But this was Saizo. Iga’s best ninja. And when he walked the world heard silence.

     Still, perhaps on intuition alone, an old woman poked her head from the meager kitchen like a mushroom pops from the forest floor, a sour look on her wrinkled face as she sized him up.

     “Sake?” She asked.

     “Food.”

     “I don’t have much, but-“

     “Dango.” Saizo sat down.

     “Just as well, the rice has gone cold anyway. No customers to keep it warm for these days.”

     Saizo heard a rustling in the kitchen when she disappeared, and a moment later she came shuffling over with a plate full of skewers and a cup of hot tea.

     “About that-“

     The old woman held up a hand to stop him. “I know, I know…can’t pay?”

     “I have money,” Saizo corrected, pulling a handsome pouch from his pocket as proof.

     She sat down across from him, and Saizo looked in her milky eyes as she inspected the contents, a mixture of awe and disgust forming from her wrinkles.

     “Awful lot of money for a mere traveling merchant…” She clicked her tongue incredulously.

     “As I was saying,” Saizo ignored her and continued, “why are there no customers?”

     The old woman sighed, her hunched back lifting and sinking with the labor of the breath. “Lots of women turning up missing around here. Some little ones, too…Oh, I hate to think of it.” Her face hardened. “Lords not doing anything about it, either. No matter how much we complain or beg. He’s got his family locked safe in his castle, why should he care what happens to us peasants, hm?” She sighed. “I’m not far from the village out here, but even so, people don’t want to make the trip with the way things are right now. Can’t say I blame ‘em.”

     “Hm.” Saizo finished chewing and picked up a second skewer. They weren’t as good as his Little Lady’s. They weren’t really good at all. But they were something, even if that something was only a reminder that he had something to look forward to when he got home.

     They sat together in silence for a moment.

     “How much do I owe you?” Saizo asked.

     “Don’t bother, just finish your food and go. I had my suspicions when you first walked in…I may be old but I’m not a fool. You’re no ordinary traveler, and I have no need of your blood money,” she pushed his coin back towards him as she said so.

     Prideful idiot. Old woman or not, he wasn’t about to force someone to take his money. Especially not for shit dango. Saizo smiled politely. “Have it your way.”

     “And don’t come back,” she stood up from the table to take her leave, “I’ve had enough of your kind and seen enough bloodshed for a hundred lifetimes. I’ve had enough of the war and fighting you bring.”

     Saizo chuckled fondly. And when the old woman questioned in offense, he took a calm breath to explain. “It’s just that you sound a lot like someone I know.”

     “Hmph. No ordinary someone,” the old woman saw through him. “And you still continue to kill, despite how she feels?”

     “Mn,” Saizo took his time chewing the last of the dango, letting the skewer fall onto the plate with the rest. “I get paid to kill,” he admitted, waving the coin pouch as a reminder before tucking it back into his pocket. The corners of his mouth lifted to a sinister grin, a dangerous glint in his sharp eyes. He was a raging fire in a field of dry straw. The face of a killer. “And a lot of men deserve to die.”

_____

     “Genji!” She smiled as she called his name. The afternoon sun had not yet washed over Saizo’s face before her voice greeted his first step onto the street.

     Pinpricks. That’s what he felt as she waved to him from the front of her family’s Inn, where he was keeping a bed for the duration of his mission. Pinpricks of nostalgia, something eerie? He wasn’t quite sure. Because so much reminded him of you. And the way, so, so long ago, your tiny mouth split your cheeks in a grin so blindingly bright he had forgotten all about the cherry blossoms above your heads and the warm, salty sorrow of that day. He wished he could have known you while you were like this. Skinny little limbs peeking out from a pink kimono you were still growing into. Surrounded by friends, maybe he would have been one of them? Could he have been?

     Playing in the streets and occasionally blowing warm breaths on your tiny cupped hands to stave off the winter chill that still lingered in the air. But it was better this way. Just like this girl smiling before him, eyes wide and innocent and glimmering the way they did for the purely good. Better his Little Lady spent most of her childhood in the light. Before his shadow bled over her path and crept up to her feet. It was better this way because death was with him, always. Whether or not he was the one to call it. Hanging like a sharp naked blade over his outstretched neck.  

     “Staying out of the woods today, hm?”

     “Like I promised!” She replied proudly, practically skipping up to his side and nearly crashing into a woman and her produce in the process.

     Saizo tilted his head with a small smile. Her name was Miki, and she had become a familiar annoyance in his life here.

     Of course, he couldn’t mention this out loud. Or the way her darting up and over was just like a koi fish in a pond, mouth open wide as it surges through the water for a mosquito thrashing on the glassy surface. But would that make him the mosquito, then? He felt more like a field mouse to an owl with the way she gripped her tiny claws into his sleeve.

     He keeps his placid smile and pinches his brows above his nose facetiously. “Good. Perhaps you’re really not as dumb as you look, then.”

     “Hey! You-“

     Saizo’s hand ruffling her hair cut her off, and the kinako mochi he offered her next kept that silence. For a brief moment, anyway. With her right cheek puffed full of mochi she gave him as stern a look as she could muster, chewing the gripes, then turning her attention back to her friends and the crude circle they had fashioned in the street out of twigs, like a ring.

     “Argh…You really messed my hair,” she whispered to Saizo with a grumble, struggling to right her sakura pin she must have spent a great deal of the morning placing.

     It was not lost on Saizo the way her big brown eyes then, flustered as her fingers on her scalp, darted to her friend from across the twigs. A boy with a cheeky grin that reminded him so much of Sasuke. A boy around her age; which meant that while she was looking at him, his focus was still fixed on the ground, preoccupied with whether or not his wooden top would knock his friends outside of their makeshift ring. Not quite yet, little lady, he thought lightly. And one day soon, this will be quite the opposite. An amused chuckle handsomely danced up Saizo’s chest while he watched them, unnoticed by anyone but himself. When she still continued to fuss at her head, he deftly reached over and righted her pin for her with a sigh.

     “Aren’t you turning into quite the fussy little lady. Careful now, most boys don’t like a girl who’s so prissy,” Saizo teased, using his elbow to lightly nudge her towards the boy. So she knew that he knew.

     “Genjiiii,” she sulked, drawing out the last of his name with a quiet and annoyed huff befitting to a chagrin child in the face of his nettling.

     She used all of her strength to push his arm away, and Saizo mused at just how little of that strength there was, if there was any, despite how tough she acted. She couldn’t knock over a reed in a windstorm, he smirked, and if he wanted to he could counter her push with two fingers alone. But he was Genji; the gentle traveling peddler of medicinal herbs. Not Saizo, the Lord Assassin. So he pretended she had strength, let her knock his arm away playfully, and laughed again as she righted herself. Amused by how easily she flustered and how honest her feelings were showing. Pink dusting her cheeks which sat doughy on her face. So obvious. Yet the boys continued to wind and toss their tops, laughing and cheering and oblivious.

     “Not quite an apple yet.”

     “What are you saying now?” Miki groaned in confusion.

     No, not an apple. That was reserved for the inhuman shade only one person could achieve. “Strawberry,” Saizo decided.

     “What are you talking about strawberries for?”

     “Who knows?” Saizo smirked, poking at her cheek with his finger.

     “Cut it out!” Her little hands slapped to her face with lightning speed and she turned away, but a hint of a giggle she was unable to keep down burst like a bubble into the air. 

     “Hm, fine then. And I was just going to tell you there were crumbs on your face…”

     “What?! Where?”

     Mortified, she swiped her flattened palms against her mouth until Saizo, finally ready to show mercy, stopped laughing to reassure her. Another girl, already passing the boys in height, noticed the commotion and took slow dainty steps over to the circle to watch with the others.

     Clink-tink-tink. The tops knocked against each other in staccato. Three at once continued to dance together among the snapped twigs with their few spared leaves still attached and saluting proudly, like a banner flag of the zealous childhood. One top began to slow, then another, and in the end, one spun just a hair longer than the others and its owner cheered in delectation, scooping it up from his feet while his friends pat his back in shared victory.

     “Were you good at kenkagoma too, Genji? I bet you played a lot.”

     Saizo hadn’t even realized he had been watching so intently, and her voice startled him out of his reverie. The sky above was as brilliant and bright in cascading hues, as blue as the outstretched wing of a kingfisher, and the sun was high enough to begin to draw shadows from feet. Couples walked towards shops together. A cart carrying bolts of cloth rolled by, pulled by sweaty hands and wheels creaking over any rock larger than an umeboshi in its path.

     Men with sweat beading their brows and canes clutched in ghost-white knuckles carried bundles of straw on their backs and firewood to their homes to counter against the last string of winter nights. Women with rouge-painted faces ogled and crooned over various items, schmoozing merchants to haggle a price. A normal, boring, plain, village. Plain as any other.

     Saizo watched daily life in an unremarkable place happen all around him, hating the fact that he could never see it as such. If anyone knew just how often and easily even the thinnest veil of innocence can disguise the tainted and decaying within, it was Saizo as Genji. He’d watch this same scene play out before him time and time again. All his life. Faces contorting with their grasp for power. Voices once a source of warmth and acceptance turning to cold steel against your skin. Secrets collected and tucked away in provocative darkness. And what are we but a collection of our secrets? Slowly mounting over time, scattered and buried or used as a platform for deceptions.

     This place would be no different. And he was exhausted, having to be the one to lift that dark shroud knowing what lay underneath. A sea of reflective stares like mirrors against a black ink, numerous and glinting as the water-polished stones of a riverbed catching in the moonlight. Eventually, all secrets are revealed. They come wriggling, breaking through even the toughest earth like worms in the rain. And the rain always comes. No one knows that better than Saizo.

     There’s a tug on the sleeve of his kimono. “Hey, are you listening?”

     “Hm?”

     “I saaid, did you play kenka-goma when you were little, too?”

     Saizo does his best to lighten his voice, but there’s no mistaking the extra weight now pressing on his features. “Afraid I’ve never played, no,” he answers honestly, forcing a friendly smile from his pressed lips.

     “Never?! You are so weird, Genji…”

     “If you say so,” he says. You have no idea, he thinks.

     “Try it! You can use mine.”

     Miki presented her wooden top to him as if it was some grand antique heirloom in her hands. Knicks and all. In a circle she showed him how to twist the rope around the base in a tight coil, whipping her hand out from her torso in a tossing motion to demonstrate before handing it to him.

     “Here, look, once you have it wound like that you just make sure you hold the end of the rope here. Got it? Okay, then you just toss it. But make sure you hold on to the rope, okay? That’s important. And toss it like I showed you. Kinda like when you skip a rock in the water. But easier, my cousin can’t ever skip rocks in the water when we go down to the river but she beats me all the time with tops. It’s pretty easy. Wait, you have skipped rocks on water before, right?”

     “Do you want me to toss this thing or are you going to insist on talking about rocks?” Saizo replied flatly.

     “Whoops! Okay, I’m ready,” she replied, taking a step back to watch with wide eyes.

     A few others release their tops onto the dirt along with Saizo, but it’s clear as a toy launched by an adult that his is spinning much faster.

     Tink-tink-clink-tink. One top collides with Saizo’s, sending it careening towards the barrier of sticks where it topples over on impact. Two more continue their dance around, and its almost hypnotic the way they glide over and around little pebbles, wobbling and jutting back and forth as they weave trails. Another top slows, stutters and falls to its side in defeat before being scooped up and rewound for another go. Tink. The last two tops come together once again, and the boys are making fists of excitement and leaning in further and further. Some get on their knees for an even closer look.

     The last top falls and Saizo’s keeps on spinning and spinning round. She has a grasp on his sleeve still, Saizo notices, and she too is transfixed by the sound and the swerving. All of them hold their breath, anxious to see just how long it can keep going. A few are young enough to suspend belief, dreaming of a world now where this top just keeps on spinning forever and ever, rolling and bouncing for eternity over great mountains and frozen lakes translucent enough you can see the fish scatter from its path in fear. Some whisper in wonder to each other that this has to be the longest a top has ever spun in the history of history.

     Saizo watches with a blank stare, the red and blue painted lines of the wooden top. It moves so fast that the colors appear to expand and mix together, blurring to distort the once obvious line where one ends and another begins.

     There’s another excited tug on his sleeve, and he lets himself be honest that it isn’t bothersome. That maybe, if he were ever allowed to live as people did, he might then be willing to admit he wouldn’t hate the idea of a daughter—or children—at all. There was a time when Saizo could separate his feelings from the attachments people made to Genji. It was simply a game, and he was always the one holding the rope in the end. It was clear, once, where his emotions and actions as Genji ended and where Saizo began, and he could remove himself from it all when a mission ended. When he removed his mask. It was as simple as that to be free.

     Not anymore, however. Like the colors on the top, he felt the line between Saizo and Genji blurring more and more. Could he say there was a line at all? Spinning, spinning, spinning. Red and Blue. Right and Wrong. Clean and Tainted. Light and Shadow. Unlike the toys in the ring, it seemed his life was always picking up speed. Faster and faster it swirled still, causing his ideals and past and present and everything he is to converge and bleed into one another. He’s waist deep in the hazy, murky aftermath, and he cant even tell who he is anymore. Sorting fact from fiction now would be like trying to put water back into the river once it's flowed into the ocean. Impossible.

     A chilly breeze coasts through the street as they watch the top finally fall. There’s a wave of awe and exhausted gasps when it happens, everyone gulping air to compensate for holding their breath. It doesn’t last long before the electric buzz around the circle dies down and another round of tops begins again.

     It’s already much later than he would like it to be. Utsusemi caws obnoxiously in the distance, no doubt annoyed by the time he’s wasted. Damn bird. It’s shrill enough to command his attention, but he doesn’t get more than a few steps down the street before he feels a tug. He doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is. So he doesn’t.

     “What?”

     “Are you leaving again?”

     “For a bit.”

     “For work stuff again?”

     “Unless you know of a way these herbs will pick and deliver themselves.”

     “Can I go?”

     “No.”

     “And you’ll be back?”

     “Yep.”

     “When?”

     “When I’m back.”

     “You were really good at kenka-goma. I knew it. I knew you would be.”

     Saizo turned on his heel now to face her, a look of comical exasperation as he removed her clutched hand from his person like you’d remove a mouse from the clutches of an alleycat. “Is that what we felt was so important to say to me, then? I really need to be going.”

     “Mmhm. Well…also, I want you to take this.” Her voice is shy, a mousy wisp blown fast over the syllables.

     Standing there, she holds her arm out to him. A wooden top with red and blue stripes creates a divide between two lingering hands, and Saizo forgets to conceal his true shock for a moment as he accepts it. His eyes round in surprise but he recovers quickly, his cutting features melding into an incredulous expression.

     “And what, exactly, am I to do with this?”

     “Whatever you want. It’s yours now, keep it.”

     Saizo wanted to say several things. First and foremost, that he had no need or want of a child’s toy. Particularly one that was being actively used by said child up until a crows shit ago. However, the reply forefront on his tongue was, “Why?”

     “You said you didn’t have one as a kid… I dunno, I felt sad… I thought maybe now, if you have one, you can play with it.”

     “Uh-huh.”

     “And you can play with me.”

     Not gonna happen…

     “Plus, this way you don’t forget about me when you use it,” she continued, rocking on the balls of her feet a bit like it would help the words come out.

     “……”

     “Plus! I wanted a new one anyway, and now mom and dad will have to get me one.”

     A smile grows on Saizo’s face and he tucks the top away in his pocket. “You know, pretending to give someone a gift just so you can get a better gift is not only selfish, but rude.” Saizo clicks his tongue in disapproval. “And worst of all, it’s not very clever. Spilling your plans when I can just reveal your tricks to your parents…I guess I take back what I said earlier. You really are as dumb as you look.”

     “Wait! Then give it back!” She reaches for him, laughing, but he dodges before she can even finish her sentence.

     Saizo is already several feet ahead of her now, having weaved through the crowd of foot traffic surrounding them. “Grabby and greedy, too.”

     “Come onnn, give it back!” She chases him down the road, always just shy of grasping his kimono before he darts in another direction, leaving her panting in the dust.

     Saizo pops up on the other side of her, sending her jumping at the sudden shock of his voice. “Trying to take something you’ve already given… Tsk. That’s called stealing, you know. I’ll have to add that to the list as well, right under prissy. Perhaps I’ll pick up a pen and some paper while I’m out? At this rate, I’m going to need it if I have to remember all of these horrible things I’m going to tell your parents.”

     And as suddenly as he appeared, he’s headed up the road again. This time, she doesn’t try to follow him as he walks.

     “Don’t forget, I’m helping cook dinner tonight! It’s going to be reeeally good, so you better be back before dark!” Miki shouts to his back.

     Saizo glances back at her briefly, one last acknowledgment before continuing down the street.

     “Promise!” She calls. And his figure gets smaller and smaller. He doesn’t turn around or wave, but somehow she knows he heard her. Until he disappears from her view, she stands there in the street and watches him walk away.

_____

     This is what he hated the most. It had taken half a day longer than he anticipated to find the place, and now he was stuck crawling under the foundation like a filthy rat in order to hear information on their hideaway. The footsteps creaking in the wood above his head shift the boards and send sprinklings of musty scented soil straight into his face. This was the type of work for a lesser shinobi, laying among the mouse droppings and beetles in the dank darkness. He was going to have quite a few words when he got back to Iga.

     Above him, the men continued to talk. Saizo was just about to make his way out when something caught his ear.

     “So they caught another one?”

     “Yeah, found her out in the woods near the village yesterday.”

     Saizo’s throat cinches despite himself. In the darkness, his eyes narrow. It couldn’t be…she wouldn’t be that fucking stupid. And yet, every instinct wringing his insides of held emotions like an old rag, told him otherwise.  

     “Another young one?”

     “I heard she was a bit of a fighter, though.”

      “Those never last long with the boss…”

     They begin to make their way out, and Saizo draws his short blade. When the first one steps out, he slices through both heels in a flash, severing the flesh and taught muscle and sending the man’s body falling forward into the dirt with a thud.

     “What the fuck was that?!” One of the others yells, steps frozen in the entryway as he watches his comrade writhe and scream in pain. Blood pouring from his heels into the dirt to create a dark crimson mud.  

     From beneath the veranda, Saizo appears with inhuman speed, as if the laws of gravity suspend for one man, shaking the dirt from his silver hair and tugging his clothing back into place.

     Three more of you, hm?

     They’ve drawn their blades, but Saizo simply stretches the kink in his neck and takes a step towards them.

     “You bastard…” One plants his foot, sword pointed.

     Saizo’s face remains an emotionless wall. I don’t even need my katana for you. The cowards don’t get a single swing in before Saizo feels the resistance of steel hitting vital organs. They drop at his feet, blood pooling and leaking into the cracks of the floor, dripping down to where he lay just moments before. He flicks his blade through the air and watches the blood spatter onto their lifeless backs before tucking it away once more.

     The one in the dirt is still wailing. Saizo grabs the old chipped blade of one of the dead men and slowly proceeds out towards the field. His foot crushes down onto the man's sternum hard enough for a crack, and in the middle of the plea, Saizo dives the worn blade down for a killing blow.

_____

     It just had to be the damned rain.

     Saizo perched himself on a sturdy branch, looking up at the darkening sky. The rain would stop soon, but not soon enough. His thumb flicks, a pleasant and familiar click sounds in the darkness as his blade is released from behind his back. Their little operation has been found, nestled amidst tall cedars and mountain flowers, and the rain won’t stop him this time.

     The cold drops beat down harder now, masking his steps and pecking at his exposed skin. The chill each drop brings soaks right to his core, he can feel it in his bones but he suppresses the shiver. It’s not as terrible as his irritation, like needles under his flesh, pricking away at him in the darkness.

     He doesn’t bother to conceal himself. And when he kicks the door down an arson of wooden splinters surges forward into the dimly lit hut. Sword whipping a tight whoosh through the air and splitting several droplets of rain from the leaking roof in the process. They’re sleeping on the floor, some propped up against the wall. Some still awake but clearly drunk. There are many, but not near enough.

     Lightning cracks through the sky and illuminates his figure, making him look every bit as death himself. Some scream. No, no, he thinks with a grin, I’m just his messenger. But it’s every bit as frightening, he’s sure, as the hazy blue flashes crackle and spark through the clouds appearing behind his dark frame in the doorway.

     There’s a flash of red. With swift, practiced movements Saizo’s sword makes a path through every mans throat within striking range, collecting heads and spraying blood like crimson rain across the room. Dotting the horrified faces of the men now stirring at the sound of their companions choking on their own blood.

     In the chaos his eyes scan and asses from wall to wall. The fever is clouding his mind and weighing his lids but he pushes through, already taking stock of their weapons and headcount. Pathetic. He feels the weight of his blade in his hand, runs a thumb along the woven pattern as he’s done a thousand times prior, and flicks his wrist into position. When he spins now he leaves a path of limbs in his wake. Legs, arms, hands, they all sail down to the floor like petals in a spring breeze.

     To his left a blade swings with the intention to cut him, but Saizo catches the wrist with his left hand, using his force to twist until bone and tendon pop and the blade falls with a heavy clatter.

     Then—

     “Hng…” Saizo chokes on his own gasp, his body freezing in the moment.

     Shit. Shit. The rain really had taken more of a toll than he’d anticipated. He’s sluggish, and a wakizashi now presses firmly into his right side. Threatening to dig in deeper. Everything is slow, drowned in the sound of heavy rain pelting the roof. He cocks his chin up. Clenches his teeth to gnash the coppery liquid swirling on his tongue and seeping out between his teeth. From the corner of the ceiling, a dark shadow swoops down to Saizo’s aid, using its talons to claw his attackers' eyes with a fierce caw. Utsusemi.

     Saizo removes the blade from his flesh, an iniquitous smile now pulling the corners of his mouth. It’s been a while since an opponent has landed a blow. He thinks back to his days in Iga and his master’s blades, thrown with unforgiving speed and precision, and how it stung like fire when they found their target in him. He was too feverish to feel the hot sting now.

     Focus, he hisses at himself. Breathe, listen, recalculate, think…His stance widens, the ball of his back foot planted firmly into the ground, ready to spring himself forward. Another flash of lightning. Saizo’s underhanded swing splits the stomach of the man in front of him before the tip lodges into the side of the man on his left. He kicks the body off his sword, sending it careening into a wall and using that momentum to spin just in time to slash diagonally across the man approaching behind him. The last one. Saizo watches his opponents hands and the sword they were holding fall as he drops to his knees and collapses lifeless onto the floor in a thick pool of blood.

     Is that my own heartbeat, so loud? The fever makes him dizzy, the stench makes it worse. Tripping over a random severed arm he takes a rest against the wall which groans at the mercy of the wind.

A navy cloth is pulled from his pocket, and in silence, Saizo stands in a thick layer of cooling blood. He wipes his blade, as silver as his hair and glinting in the rare swatches of white-hot lightning. There’s a cave entrance not far up ahead, and while tucking his katana behind his back Saizo makes his way towards it. He’s not a person who’s ever relied on hope. But if he was, he’d hope he was wrong about what he would find inside.

_____

     The cold moon floats high above the trees, spreading ethereal blue into the translucent waters of the river at Saizo’s feet. Reeds dance in the night wind and lily pads as large as his head bob up and back in a mutual dance with the current. When he bends down to gather water in his cupped hands he winces, favoring his side only slightly when the wound he harbors screams in protest of his movement.

     “What.” Saizo’s voice cuts sharply through the quiet.

     From the shadows a figure appears, dropping down from a hidden branch to land silently in the grass below. Kiyohiro says nothing, he just stares.

     “If you don’t mind, I’d like to wash this shit off,” Saizo turns his back from the other shinobi and continues to splash icy water up his arms and torso. He’ll never be rid of the smell, and his skin prickles until numb with each chilling rinse, but he continues to wash until he can no longer feel a coating of sticky copper layered upon his skin and armor.

     Hm, the money, is it? Saizo had caught the unmistakable lump of coin tucked in Kiyohiro’s chest, heard the faintest clink when he jumped down from the tree. My hefty sum for a job well done. In his own pocket Saizo retrieved an item, taking a look at it one last time before tossing it into the dirt at Kiyohiro’s feet.

     “Give it to her family,” he says curtly. He needn’t say more than that for his subordinate to understand.

     After all…the idiot must have gotten nabbed while looking for him when he hadn’t made it back for dinner, he thinks, sinking down to sit at the riverbed.

     Kiyohiro picks up the hairpin, looking as if he was trying to put together some semblance of words but the sentences weren’t clicking.

     Don’t…Saizo shoots him a severe look. A string of silence followed as Kiyohiro swallows the bits of chopped, confused pity.  

     “There’s another inn not far from here,” Kiyohiro says, eyes glancing in a flash to the wound still weeping on Saizo’s side, “I’ll arrange a room for you.”

     He bows, then disappears back into the trees.

     Saizo sinks back into the plush grass, happy to have some silence for the first time in days.

_____

     Brilliant golden hues highlights shadows cast down by the branches of the tree Saizo sat resting under. He’d been zipping from trunk to trunk, pressing fingertips into soil indents, checking snapped twigs and scouting for hints of heavy foot traffic that could be signs of criminal activity. Signs that could point him in the direction of the disappearances and the answers to who was behind them. And now he was resting. The key word here being was. And when he popped one lazy eye open he saw the tiny foot shuffles he had been hearing in the leaves belonged to…tiny feet. A young girl attached to them.

     “What’cha doin out here?” She asked, peering down at him.

     “Isn’t that what I should be asking you?” Saizo opened his eyes wide in faux astonishment, ever the innocent Genji.

     “I live around here.”

     “In the woods?” Saizo replied, incredulous.

     She shook her head. “No, in the village nearby.”

     “If you live there then you must know young girls like yourself have been going missing, no? And that it’s dangerous?”

     “Are you a bad guy?” She took a hesitant step back.

     Saizo sighed. If all the girls in the village were this dumb, it’s no wonder they were dropping off left and right. Still, he should correct her.

     “I am a merchant. I was out here gathering herbs. As an adult. For my work. So what brought you out here?”

     She pointed up to the branch above him, Utsusemi’s wings flapping at the attention. “I followed it here, I was trying to feed it,” she admitted, unfolding her hand to reveal a wriggling worm dotted in soil.

     Saizo shot his familiar a sharp look, only to get an apologetic caw from the animal. “You won’t get her attention with that just yet.” Dipping into his pocket he pulled a chunk of dried fish until his familiar perched herself on his arm for a nibble.

     “Whoa!” She exclaimed with pure delight.

     “You can stroke her feathers if you want, but if she takes one of those little wormy smelling fingers off don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

     Cautiously, her hand reached out and pet the bird with slow, soft strokes. A beaming grin of elation grew on her face as she did so, for Utsusemi didn’t seem to mind one bit.

     “My parents own the Inn in town, you don’t have to sleep under a tree.”

     Wasn’t planning on it. “Do they? Well, that’s very kind of you. I suppose I could use a few nights rest in a bed, if you have a room to spare.”

     “Yep! I’ll take you there. My name’s Miki!”

     “Pleasure to meet you, Miki. I’m Genji.”

_____

     “Still waiting up for me, hm?” There’s no one around to hear the words he speaks from the rooftop. It’s closer to sunrise than anything, yet the lantern in your room is still burning its lambent orange welcome beacon.

     He’s checked himself so many times it’s to the point of being neurotic, terrified some blood stain has gone unchecked somewhere. Dropping down from the eaves, he creeps silently into his room and slides the door closed behind him. Just as he suspected, you were asleep. A hand and leg jutting haphazardly out from the nest of blankets. There was nothing in this life quite as enticing as those glimpses of soft flesh in the cool night air. Saizo hadn’t made it but a few feet towards you when his eyes were pulled elsewhere. A spot in the corner of the room that had his stomach harden and face fall flat. On the floor near the desk, a spinning top lay wound in its stark white rope.

    “Saizo…?!” You sat up drowsily.

     “Woke you, did I?”

     “No, I was up waiting.”

     “Liar,” Saizo smiles, dropping down to cup your face in his hands. He’d never be tired of the way your glassy eyes shined brightly for him. The image reflected back in them who he wanted to be, the warmest most tender version of himself.

     He knew you must be exhausted. His thumb sweeps where dark circles form under your eyes. But now that you’re awake there’s no way he can let you fall back asleep. Not just yet. He sighs inwardly, knowing he’s not much different than a selfish child vying for attention. His body calls for your healing warmth, so he deftly slips his fingers into your robe to seek it out for himself.

     There’s a mutual moan when his lips envelop yours for a deep kiss. If his soul can be soothed in any single way, it is in this. Your loving hands fixing themselves in his hair, pulling his clothing away from his body and dragging him to join you beneath the sheets. Your want of him only spurs his desires. He can’t control his hands, or the desperate way he stimulates your mouth and sucks on the tip of your sweet tongue.

     “I missed you so much,” the wet hot confession is a murmur into his bottom lip the first break for air.

     He never wants to see you cry. But when he pulls back just slightly and catches a tear fall from the corner of your eye, he thinks in these moments it might just be alright. Silly little thing. Don’t you know you’re his home, the guiding light on his dark path? He’ll always find his way back to you.

     “I need to feel more of you,” he admits.

     Emotion and dread well up like a wad of heavy cloth in his throat. His worst fears causing his hands to shake. Your face no longer rosy and smiling and warm, but still and pale and cold to the touch. It flashes in his minds eye, distorting you into a dead corpse in his arms. On your mouth a familiar spidering of red clamoring for purchase on the cheeks he once kissed pink. Saizo shakes the vision from his mind and feels for your heart.

     Thump-thump-thump. It’s there. Thump-thump. The beat quickens under his fingertips. The image melts like snow in spring. But he knows he’ll never shake the anxiety that as easy as it is for him to reach out and feel the proof you are alive and well, it could just as easily be taken away from him.

     “Wha…Saizo?” Your hands find the bandage over his side.

     “Mn. It’s nothing.”

     “Are you sure? It looks serious…What if it reopens?”

     He tries to kiss your worries away, swiping at your bottom lip with his tongue when he does so. “Is that your way of saying you’re willing to do all the work, little lady?” He teases.

     You nod, not even sparing the beat of a heart to think about it. “I don’t care, I just want to be close to you.”

     “Well then,” he switches you both, positioning you over his lap while he lays with his back to the floor, “show me just how much you missed me.”

     He’s hard and ready as he’s ever been, feeling your wet heat pressing against his bare length, and in an effort to distract himself he plays with the soft skin of your thighs and breasts when you begin to grind back and forth. It’s more than he can bear.

     “Put it in yourself,” he instructs. I want to see.

     “Okay…”

     You guide his twitching cock to your entrance, but as the tip presses in Saizo roughly pinches your nipples between his fingertips, his smirk making it clear he gets a rise out of your yelp and the way you buck up in shock.

     “Sahh-Saizo!”

     “Hm? Don’t let me distract you. Go on, now, naughty girl. Help me fill you up.”

     You’re tight, and warm, melting his very existence as you willingly press him inside of you. The feeling a gift he’s not sure he will ever deserve.

     “Ahh…” you still halfway down, struggling to fit him all right away.

     “Mmn, that’s it, s-slowly,” he whispers his guidance.

     Normally, he would have played with you much longer before penetrating you. He enjoyed getting you nice and wet, toying with you and teasing you. Building up your desperation until you were practically begging for him to fuck you. But he couldn’t wait, it’s been so long. So he runs the tips of his fingers over his tongue and with calculated swirls and practiced pressure he stimulates your clit until your thighs loosen their grip, opening and pleading to accept him all the way down to the base.

     “You like that, don’t you.” It isn’t a question. He can feel how wet you are, quivering above him as he slows his movements down, pressing just a bit harder to really stimulate your nerves.

     “Oh, Saizo...”

     He grabs each of your hands, lacing his fingers with yours and supporting you, watching your breasts bounce and your torso roll and the mesmerizing way your hips fuck him as you please.

     Every moan and whimper, every rock of your hips as you use him to bring yourself pleasure, is a bandage on his damaged heart and soul. Being close to you in shared vulnerability like this makes him feel whole again. And when you press him deep inside of your walls he can’t help but let his moans out, either. Nor does he bother to conceal the fervent heat blossoming on his cheeks in a plain declaration of just how badly he wants to fuck you. Hard.

     “Again,” he grips your hips to drive himself inside of you.

     “Saizo, hahh…s-saizo,” you whine, sweet and desperate.

     “Again, louder.” More, more…

     You scream his name just as he sits up, curling his fingers into your hair and manipulating the angle to expose the crescent of your neck. Where his lips find purchase to tease your prickling skin and the lobe of your cute ears. It’s here he can envelop himself in that honeyed scent he’s missed so much. His eyes practically roll back in his head at the scent of you.

     There’s no self-doubt, no anxiety, no icy chill in his bones or memories and regrets driving needles into his heart, stinging with every beat. He is healed now, by your touch. Your shared warmth. When you hold him tight. The way your voice vibrates and quivers as he bounces you mercilessly onto his cock, taking everything you have to give and more. Selfish, I know, but I need you…he thinks. And the way you squirm when he finally releases inside of you, filling you with his newfound hopes and dreams for days to come.

     Fluttering kisses on your heaving chest as he lays you down beside him, unwilling to pull out of you just yet. He feels your dainty fingers draw lazy circles into his back, wet with perspiration. And he captures your arm to draw your wrist to his lips. Committing to memory the feel of your strong pulse under his kiss.

     “No rest yet, little lady. We have a lot of days to make up for.”

_____

     The afternoon sun covers Saizo like a blanket where he lazily naps on the veranda, drunk on the warmth that sends him into peaceful reverie.

     “Hm, that’s odd,” he hears you mumble, light steps leaving the room to where he lay.

     “Mn.” He doesn’t bother opening his eyes.

     “Have you seen it?”

     “Seen what, exactly?”

     “Sasuke and I went into town while you were away and saw they were selling those spinning tops. I was supposed to show him how to play today, but now I can’t find it. I swore I left it right by the desk. You didn’t see one anywhere, did you?”

     Saizo rolls over, resting his head on his arm with a peaceful yawn that signifies the conversation is over. “Nope. No idea.”

[neoendydy]

pt5 fandom be like: i can excuse mafia, murder, extortion, torture, unprovoked violence, scamming, bribes, theft, arson, pickpocketing but i draw the line at age gaps

[minaminokyoko]

Favourite avengers movies scenes?

How on earth do you expect me to ever narrow down enough to not list the entire trilogy in general? Holy hell. I am a big fat Marvel fangirl and I could write a fucking dissertation on scenes complete with charts and graphs. For the sake of argument, let me see if I can at the very least just highlight the tippy top favorite moments from the first three Avengers films. Keep in mind, I fucking love all three of them to death and could rave about them for days at a time.

The Avengers

-Loki’s confrontation with Nick Fury. This scene sets the tone for the rest of the film so fucking well, man. It’s just brilliantly done to see that whatever humanity that we saw in Loki in Thor has pretty much flown out the window and he’s here to wreak havoc and start a war, and he doesn’t care how many people he destroys in the process. I also like that it shows the vast gap in power and experience between the SHIELD agents and an Asgardian. Loki all but flattens everyone in a matter of seconds. Seeing him among other Asgardians can kind of make you forget he’s literally a thousand year old god and is tough as nails. He’s also low down and ruthless and that’s the kind of thing that is scary as hell when you realize that’s what they’re all up against.

-Nat’s “interrogation” with the Russians. I actually love every single Avenger’s introduction scene, but this one is so delightful in that Nat shows us just why she is an Avenger even though she has no enhanced abilities: deception, manipulation, and just being an incredibly agile combat expert. I am most delighted with her scene because before Avengers, I had no regard for Nat at all and thought she was just fanservice, but here, she completely proved her worth as a character and to the team, and I got on board as a fan of her just from her opening scene wiping the floor with these idiot Russian dudes.

-Tony and Bruce getting to know each other in the lab. From a character standpoint, this is an outstanding scene. Tony is trying to draw Bruce out of his shell, and the sympathy and empathy he has for him is so palpable that it’s why we all dubbed them the Science Bros and why it’s one of the best friendships in the Avengers. Tony is so awesome for joking with Bruce and treating him like a normal person and reminding him that there is at least one person aboard that helicarrier who doesn’t see him as some terrifying monster and knows just from reading up on him that he’s not a bad person. It’s so charming and wonderful.

-Stuttgart. Man. Man, oh man, this is a well done scene. The build up to Loki’s horrifying actions is so great and so is this freaking diva’s grandstanding once he demands the poor, confused Germans kneel before him. It’s fascinating to me because Loki has an almost childlike need for attention, as if his frustrations with his failure to take over Asgard as king has manifested itself into this very basic need to be acknowledged as being a powerful threat. Loki could kill an average human being with a flick of his wrist. His comparison of “an ant has no quarrel with a boot” while cruel is accurate, but here’s the thing, Loki: if you fuck with enough fucking ants, you can get your ass into a lot of trouble, and we’re fireants, not sugar ants, buddy. And ants who band together get shit done. The old man who stood up to him, in my book, is a fucking hero all on his own and I think it’s one of the most well crafted pieces of dialogue in the entire MCU. “There are no men like me.” “There are always men like you.” Oh, standing ovation for that piece of dialogue. Give it an Oscar. Then Cap swinging in to kick ass and Tony swooping in beside him with an equally over the top entrance to Loki’s was the icing on the fucking cake.

-Thor retrieving Loki. Hnnnnnnngh, okay, so here’s the thing: I fucking love Thor and Loki’s relationship even before Ragnarok came out and upgraded it. Thor is and always has been since his first movie a man with very deep emotions who loves and loves deeply with all his heart, and his confrontation with Loki just wounds me so much. How Thor throws Loki to the ground and yet yanks him to his feet and just holds him there, his hand on his face, looking so torn between agony and relief that his brother is alive. “I thought you dead.” “Did you mourn?” Fuck me, this scene is absolutely brutal to my feels. Thor and Loki’s debate was nothing short of excellent as Thor tries to bring Loki around, and the thing is, he means it. He means every fucking word, that he would take the Tesseract and bring his brother home, and he doesn’t care about facing the music, he just wants his goddamn brother back even after all Loki has done so far in the story. Y’all better stop sleeping on Thor, man. His heart is by far the best thing about him, forget all the delicious muscles and that perfect teddy bear smile. Thor has miles and miles of heart, and that’s why I love this scene so much. 

-Nat tricking Loki into revealing his plan. This scene is so good I based an entire goddamn fanfic around its premise. Dude. Nat fucking Romanov, y’all. I love how this scene is staged and executed. I love Loki starting out almost gentle and conversational, as if for once he’s going to just be an actual person and not a monster, and then he slips back into that nasty egotistical megalomaniac when he thinks he has one over on Nat. And then Nat fucking schools him. It’s why I have a personal headcanon that he developed a hatecrush on her after she, a mere mortal, tricked the goddamn God of Mischief. It solidified Nat as one of my favorite female heroes forever. I loved seeing her use that feminine “weakness” to let him run his mouth. I also love that his cruel words did in fact affect her and motivated her even more to both save Clint and to go to war with Loki at the end.

-The whole ass helicarrier attack sequence. I mean, I don’t even need to go into detail. You already know. 

-Tony confronting Loki. This is the scene that assured us that what followed would be one of the greatest fight sequences in cinematic history. I pretty much have most of Tony’s dialogue memorized because it had such an effective impact on me from a storytelling standpoint. Tony standing up to Loki as a mortal man with no suit, candidly threatening him with barely suppressed rage that Loki murdered Coulson, a comrade, in cold blood, is downright amazing.

-The battle of New York. Boom. Again, no words necessary. Perfect fucking sequence from start to finish.

-Thor trying one last damn time to bring Loki around. Oh, my heart. My poor fucking heart. Thor really loves his brother and he would do anything to have him back. Is it naive? Yes. But it’s also a beautiful statement of what family truly means to Thor and it breaks my heart. The fact that a tear slides down Loki’s face when he stabs Thor and mutters, “Sentiment” is so not cool. As much as Loki pretends to be the Big Bad Wolf, there is something still young and human inside of him even though he pretends it isn’t there. All my creys.

-Hulk trouncing Loki. I went and saw The Avengers three times in theaters, and two out of the three times, everyone cheered so loud I didn’t hear the Hulk say “puny god” over all the noise. It was that satisfying a scene.

Age of Ultron

-The entire beginning sequence. Fucking loved it. What masterful ass-kicking and showcasing of the team dynamic. It made me want a longer lead in to how they all got reunited because it was so enjoyable. “Language!” Oh, Cap.

-Jarvis and Ultron’s first scene together. Dude. James fuckin’ Spader, man. I never knew I could be so intimidated by a man’s voice. It was so unsettling for so many reasons, the resentment, irrationality, and anger from his unusual birth and creation. It was all the more frightening when he turned on Jarvis, and at the time, we didn’t know he hadn’t killed our beloved butler. 

-Picking up Mjolnir. This scene needs no elaboration. It’s just perfection. Even people who complain about Age of Ultron admit this scene is just flawless.

-The team confronting Tony over creating Ultron. Cap’s line, which we now know goes even further after the events of Infinity War, just make me want to die. “We’ll lose.” “Then we’ll do that together, too.” Tony’s face, realizing that Cap doesn’t care that he fucked up–he cares that Tony couldn’t trust the team enough to let them in on what he was dealing with–is soul-crushing. Tony realizes he was wrong to assume instead of being honest with them. 

-The confrontation in Wakanda. Everything about it was badass and it hits you right where you live seeing the Avengers having to face their biggest regrets and most painful moments of their pasts. Especially Steve’s. The image of him and Peggy finally getting their dance was so not okay. Special props to Tony in the Hulkbuster armor. That was one hell of a fucking brawl.

-The Sokovia final battle. There are just so many awesome points in the final battle sequence, man. Everyone is out there just kicking ass and doing what they do best. Special props to Hawkeye getting through to Wanda, and Hawkeye’s “nobody would know…nobody” moment with Pietro. 

Infinity War

Disclaimer: I have no idea how to isolate moments in a movie that is by far one of the most well written comic book movies since The Dark Knight, but I guess since you asked, I have to try anyway. Hoo boy. Strap in. 

-Loki’s death. Let me explain something to you: I went entire years without caring about Loki, and then around the time The Dark World came out, I slowly became converted to both a Tom Hiddleston and a Loki fan, and then after Ragnarok, he finally just seduced me completely to being smitten with his stupid trashy self. It is important that you realize that I recognize that Loki is a selfish, inferiority complex-having, murdering bastard and I do not excuse a goddamn thing he does because of his fucking Daddy issues. That being said, in spite of how much of a flaming trashbag he is, I love him anyway, and I tried for months to tell myself that I knew as a fellow writer that Loki was going to die in Infinity War. It was assured not only from the trailer, but from me knowing that his character arc was always going to end with his death. What hurt most of all is that, as I predicted, Loki died trying to save Thor. I cried my eyes out. Hell, once Thanos closed his hand around Loki’s neck, I covered my eyes because I just didn’t have it in me to see it end this way for him and for Thor. Thor being helpless to stop it is truly what made it worse. There is nothing on heaven or earth Thor wouldn’t do for Loki, even knowing how wicked Loki is. And the fact that Loki couldn’t let Thanos kill Thor after all these two have been through was like an icepick through my heart. Loki wouldn’t have died protecting Thor if Thor had not loved him unconditionally this entire time we’ve watched their story. Thor’s love did have an effect on Loki throughout these films, and that’s why I literally burst into sobs and couldn’t bear to see him die that way. It is one of the most gut wrenching things ever put to film, and certainly in the MCU. I’ve only had the stomach to watch that scene twice because it hurts me so much, and neither time was I strong enough to actually watch Loki’s final moments. Goddamn, it’s just so painful. Capped off with Thor slowly crawling over to his brother to be with him one last time before the ship explodes and just laying his head on his chest in the kind of grief that honestly should get Hemsworth a fucking Oscar. Bravo. 

-Cap, Widow, and Falcon reuniting with Vision and Wanda. Holy shit, yes. This fight was gorgeous, gripping, and fucking awesome. Special props to Cap and Widow being the ride or die Avengers Mom and Dad team. We can infer from their actions that the two of them have been together since the end of Civil War possibly, so you can not tell me Cap and Widow are not a thing on some level. Captasha all day, err day. They perfectly compliment each other and I headcanon that they’re together and no one will convince me otherwise.

-”We’ll fight you too.”/”We don’t trade lives.” That sound you hear is me screeching. Some people have said Cap wasn’t given a ton to do this time around, and I emphatically protest it simply because, yes, he has less screentime, but man, he does so much work in this role that reminds us of why we all love Captain America. His values mean so much. Cap will lay down his life in the blink of an eye for someone who needs it. He cares so deeply. He is the pinnacle of selflessness and it’s so important to see in this film.

-Thor meeting the Guardians. Perfection. Just…perfection.

-Irondad and Spiderson aboard the Space Donut. Jesus fucking Christ, I am so on board for Irondad and Spiderson that it’s insane. I love that entire fucking interaction from start to finish. I love Tony’s strict, fatherly anger and exasperation because he just wants his baby boy to be safe on earth while he’s on another suicide mission, but the baby boy wants to help his dad out and baby boy also doesn’t quite realize the consequences because he’s too young. Extra points for Tony’s death-glare after Parker says, “It’s kind of your fault I’m here” and the fact that even the fucking cloak did a double take at Parker when he said it. Oh, it’s so perfect.

-Gamora making Peter promise to kill her if Thanos gets to her. I just…I want to die. This was so beautifully done, and so in character for both of them, and Peter and Gamora are just so soft and sweet and in love that it’s so overwhelming. At the very least, I take a small comfort in knowing that they were a happy family for four years before this shit happened to them.

-Gamora “killing” Thanos. Again, can we just award Oscars to like half the fucking cast in this movie? Jesus Christ, I cried at this scene too because the fact that she’s just completely unraveled as she finally thinks she’s killed her goddamn abuser is so deeply tragic. Gamora is my favorite Guardian. Hands down. She is so three dimensional. She tries so hard and she is so much more than the deadliest woman in the galaxy. She is so complex and it is the worst pain ever to know that Peter actually kept his promise and tried to kill her to prevent her from being in the hands of her abuser again and Thanos foiled their plan, and had the fucking nerve to say, “I like him” before he took her again. 

-”It’ll kill you.” “Only if I die.” “…yes, that’s what killing you means.” 

-The battle of Wakanda. Motherfucker. This is some A+++ motherfucking good shit hurr. What always gets me hype as hell is Cap and T’Challa sprinting down the goddamn hill at 80 mph and I just can’t even handle that shit because it was so good and satisfying. Everything about this battle was incredible.

-The battle on Titan. Same thing. It’s so creative and well crafted and amazing. You feel every blow. You flinch. You want them to beat that son of a bitch but he’s just so fucking strong. It is an incredibly engaging fight, man. Hoo boy. 

-Thor’s entrance to the battle of Wakanda. I distinctly remember the entire audience going absolutely apeshit during this scene the night Infinity War premiered. Like the first Avengers, I saw it three times in theaters, and two out of the three times, the crowd went fucking wild. That was so fucking satisfying, man, as are the neat little scenes of levity with Cap introducing himself to Groot and Cap and Thor remarking on each other’s changes in appearance. It was so pure and good and perfect.      

-Cap squaring up with Thanos. I. Can’t. Breathe. It was so powerful. Like the above scene of “we don’t trade lives,” this is why we love Captain America. Why we love Steve Rogers. This man, this mortal human man, took one goddamn fucking look at that twelve foot all powerful alien giant and said, “Not today, bitch.” Steve fucking Rogers stood there and took it. He put his life on the goddamn line for Wanda, and for Vision, and for the rest of the universe, and he actually held that goddamn line for a moment. The incredulous look on Thanos’ face is what seals it. He is utterly confused that this little man is actually holding him back, that this mere mortal doesn’t give a fuck that he can’t overpower him, but he is giving it his all because that is who he is. Steve will not quit. Steve will not falter. Steve will die doing what’s right and that is one of the most moving things in the whole MCU, imo. He just planted his feet and said, “No, you move.” I know we saw that scene in the trailer, but it was so unbelievable to see it in context that Cap gave it everything he had trying to protect Wanda and the rest of the universe, and I still get choked up just thinking about that shit. 

Welp, you asked for it and now you have it. I told you I was gonna rave, man. God bless anyone who actually read this nonsense. Marvel had me at hello with these characters and they have way too much sway over my emotions, as you can see above. Ten years, man. Ten years. 

[therandomwatcher]

Sherlock Season 4 Review

There will be spoilers. You have been warned. There are some really in-depth reviews out there. This one won’t quite be that, but I will touch on some things that stood out to me. First off I would like to address Johnlock. I know there is a very dedicated section of the fandom that ships it like FedEx. That’s cool. I respect all ships even though I’m not a shipper of anything myself. That being said, it’s really not fair to the writers to accuse them of queerbaiting if John literally yells out “I’m not gay!” in more than one episode, and later turns out not to be gay. One of the redeeming features of this season I think is how many scenes are available as Johnlock fodder now. That’s some serious fan service and didn’t have to be there. If you are a Johnlocker, break out the fanfic and deviant art and go nuts! But don’t blame the writers for not doing what they said they wouldn’t do, that’s not really fair. Now that several readers have probably left in irritation, let’s get on to the episodes. If there was a theme to sum up season 4, I think it would be “No matter how smart you are, you always should study the night before the test.” Steven and Mark are very talented writers who have given us some absolutely outstanding episodes. But they were not at their best in season 4. The Six Thatchers

This episode I would say was the strongest of the 3. It was a straightforward case, with a few attached to the side for interest and wrapped up some interesting points about Mary’s past. But there were a few glaring issues. -John text-cheating with the Woman from the Bus There was zero development for it. You can’t write a character who fails spectacularly with the ladies for all of Season 1 *and* 2, and then try to turn him into 3 Continents Watson. It just doesn’t work. 

-The Aquarium Scene Boy, where to start with this one. Vivian has shown up and clearly has a gun in her purse. She has already had several people killed on her orders so it’s not a leap to believe she brought it here because she thought she would need to use it and is capable of doing so. The episode tries to pin the blame on Sherlock for “winding her up”. Except it comes across more like Sherlock is trying to distract her into shooting him instead of Mary since she’s got the gun on both of them. Perhaps Mary will be able to use her assassin skills to take Vivian out while she is busy shooting Sherlock. It’s not a great plan, true. But it’s about the only way left for him to keep his vow of trying to keep her safe in this situation. The London police are apparently worthless. Their idea of dealing with someone threatening two people with a semi-auto handgun that holds an entire magazine worth of bullets, is to stand and wait until they actually shoot the victims and then move in to arrest them...even though there are still several bullets left in the gun and they aren’t any safer for having waited (to say nothing of the victim). What the actual fark was that? 

The big one of course, is Mary being literally faster than a speeding bullet. I quite honestly laughed here. It was so ridiculously fake. We’re talking 1950′s serial tv show fake. Even if i were to believe that it is reasonable to expect someone to move faster than a bullet traveling at over 1,200mph, the fact that Mary, being closer, was able to jump in front, but Sherlock wouldn’t be able to jump out of the way, is not playing honestly with your own movie physics. There are quite a few completely understandable conspiracy theories out there now thanks to this scene.

The fabulous acting during the actual death scene was the only redeeming point of this entire scene. Shout out to Amanda especially!

Beyond that, we have the death of a character who they spent nearly all of season 3 developing, and then they just shuffle her off with the excuse that it needs to be about “the boys”. Except John has a baby now, and as anyone with a baby will tell you, you have zero free time to be running around with your best friend solving crimes. Mary could have easily filled the “I’m finally enjoying a normal life you need to go out and get some excitement” hole here, with perhaps the occasional professional opinion thrown in for fun. But no, they managed to make John’s situation actually *worse* in terms of being able to spend time with Sherlock.

The Lying Detective

-Sherlock being high the entire episode did it no favors. It got annoying after a while trying to figure out what was “real” and what was not. Nobody is watching Sherlock because they want to question reality. They watch for brilliant deductions of small minutia. This is literally the opposite of that.

-John in explicably blames Sherlock for Mary’s death. Sherlock inexplicably agrees. Regardless of whether you think Sherlock “wound up” Vivian, Mary leaping in front of the bullet pretty much absolves Sherlock of his vow to keep her safe. Neither of them are apparently capable of respecting her individual choice.

-Smith is a creepy farker. Props to the actor for that. It was a relief to see the listening device in the cane, some glimmer of “Sherlock” is actually showing here.

The Final Problem

I’m sorry, but this entire episode was teh suck.

We had an episode that was 2 X-Files episodes and a healthy dose of Firefly. I love both shows, don’t get me wrong! But when I order steak, I’m not happy to get pizza...regardless of how much I like pizza. I’m here for Sherlock...not X-Files or Firefly. The age gap is also a problem. The entire series runs without a “viewer discretion is advised” except for this episode. So anyone who might not be into darker shows has to decide if they will watch and find out what happens after years of waiting...or risk seeing an episode that will have a potentially very negative effect on them. That is profoundly not cool and I was very disappointed in the production staff about this. Evil River Tam is apparently Sherlock’s secret sister. Who is insanely smart, and was shipped off to a government facility after she killed his best friend when they were little. But she’s too useful figuring out terrorist attacks and such so they give her “treats” in exchange for her cooperation. Sherlock, utterly traumatized, has since blocked her out, and concocted a family dog in place of his friend. It got “put down” in the mind palace of His Last Vow, and now has drowned. This makes no sense without playing the ‘nothing is what it seems card’ to the point where you literally are telling the audience that nothing they saw up to this point is really part of the plot. “Things aren’t what they seem” as a plot device is a solid option, but don’t go full “Lost”. It is a serious disservice to the viewers who spend their time watching the show, to tell them that they have wasted a large chunk of it on something utterly meaningless.

While it wasn’t quite as bad as Mary leaping in front of a speeding bullet, we have John and Sherlock leaping out of glass windows and falling 2 stories onto pavement without any injury during an explosion. Such a far far cry from Molly coldly explaining how a bullet doesn’t hit with a spurt of blood and drama. (Oh wait, it did for Mary didn’t it?), it was disappointing to see them dive so far into movie physics after making the effort to *not* do that in other episodes.

We then get a tour de force of the “Pusher” X-Files episode where talking to someone makes you do what they say. And “Beyond the Sea”, with an unrepentant psychopath murderer that our hero wants to talk to for some unknown reason. Pity we didn’t have an equally awesome scene with Sherlock threatening that if John dies, to throw the switch and gas her out of this life.

Instead we get a hug, and that miraculously cures her of wanting to kill John. Who then uses a rope to climb out after gnawing off his own foot to free it of the chains....or something. The chains are gone somehow, we’re not told how even though there isn’t really enough time with the water level for John to unlock them easily. (Sorry, I really had to bite my tongue during much of the episode or MST3K/Rifftrax would’ve come out. My internal monologue had me chuckling a time or two though.) I won’t even touch on Mr and Mrs Holmes being absolutely unrealistically written characters now after learning that so much family trauma happened. It’s a minor detail that most people (except those who have been unfortunate enough to be somewhat familiar with) would not understand and so pales compared to the other errors in the episode. It’s still annoying though. Again, quality acting from two great actors though.

There are good points to the episode, Mycroft’s guilty pleasure watching old film noir detective movies is funny and potentially telling. The sword/gun umbrella is pure fan service and absolutely awesome. There is plenty of Johnlock, Adlock, Mystrade, and Sherlolly sprinkled about for the various ships. Now I know a lot of people are upset by how those turned out, but given the production schedule Sherlock isn’t likely to make any of them cannon. So the best option shippers have is a bit of everything to provide the fandom with countless gifs, drawings, and fanfic stills. There are also some great quotes in here, and solid dialog exchanges. The end of the episode wrap up was nice, but emotional whiplash after the darkness of the show. It did show us what BBC Sherlock *can* be, and we can only hope they will return to form if we get a season 5. Realistically, the absolutely superb acting held up what was a convoluted mess of a plot, that unfortunately crossed the line from complicated interwoven aspects, to throwing stuff together and changing our minds halfway through about what is actually going on. Steven and Mark are capable of taking this plot and doing it well enough not to need a “viewer discretion” or making it into the convoluted mess it ended up being. It would be tough and some of the other seasons still would’ve had some pretty big plot holes, but they are talented enough to do it justice at least. Unfortunately they weren’t at their best this time around and it’s a bit of a tough one for the fandom after all these years of waiting. You guys are still brilliant, but please study before the final next time, okay?  

[just-antithings]

I just saw someone in FFXV fandom saying we can't ship Ardyn (the 2000 year old but looks middle aged world-ending villain) together with Prompto (sweet ball of 20 to 30 yo sunshine depending on where we are in the plot) because Ardyn Wouldn't Sleep With Someone That Young, He's A Villain Not A Monster. Just pure unadulterated "I can excuse murder, but I draw the line at age gaps" energy.

Also Ardyn has canonically got that Evil Predatory Bisexual Vibe because Squeenix never got the memo that that's problematic now, so like. I feel pretty confident that a man who is 100% comfy with torturing his enemies to death and stealing their memories and also has canonically creeped on Prompto for Evil Vibe Points would not, in fact, draw the line at sleeping with a 25yo because they're "too young."

🙄🙄🙄🙄