#which adds another layer of are you sure you deserve to hold the power to choose for others ❓❓❓

[noblerinthemind]

"Remember, she is your charge. If you leave her, and harm befall, you shall not sleep easy hereafter!"

I think Van Helsing's warning here shows an important question repeated throughout the book: people are depending on you, even beyond their own knowledge of it, are you able/fit to handle the responsibility and the consequences of your choices (and mistakes), even those made with the best of intentions?

This warning is made directly after their choice of leaving Arthur out of the situation proved to be a wrong move (entirely thanks to Arthur's ability to see Through The Bullshit, not of them changing their decision). What would have happened if Seward had been the one to give the blood and the transfusion had gone poorly? If Seward hadn't been strong enough to give Lucy enough blood?

This warning is also made right before Van Helsing *leaves* Lucy in Jack's hands, right after hiding his suspicions and his knowledge about Lucy's mysterious illness, another choice made with the best of intentions but with very clear risks. Lucy is as much of Jack's charge as she is (and in some sense jack also) Van Helsing's charge, and he's leaving them both, a drained tired man and a sickly unconscious girl, to their fate with no knowledge of what they might be up against.

I would say van Helsing is talking to both Jack and himself as well with his warning.

[deception-united]

Let's talk about strong female characters.

And, more specifically, the problem with them. Don't get me wrong, I am all for a fierce leading lady who can hold her own in any situation. Inspiring, intimidating, capable. All-around badass. But it seems like lately, every other female character we meet is cut from the same warrior cloth, and it's starting to feel a bit predictable.

First, let's give credit where credit is due. The influx of strong, capable, and independent female characters in recent media is undeniably empowering. Seeing women take charge, wield swords, and save the day sends a powerful message to audiences young and old: girls can do anything. And that's a message worth celebrating.

However, there's a flip side to this trend that's worth examining. In the rush to break away from the tired old tropes of delicate damsels in distress, it seems like some writers have swung too far in the other direction. How many recent female protagonists can you name who aren't strong and independent? Who have weaknesses that they aren't afraid of showing, or aren't able to hide? We're seeing a lot of new male leads with these characteristics, which is great, but it's like we've traded one stereotype for another.

All this results in a lot of one-dimensional female characters. I want to see girls who are witty, goofy, immature, sensitive, cocky. While it's great to see women kicking ass and taking names, it's also important to remember that strength comes in many forms.

One of the things that makes characters truly compelling is their complexity. Sure, it's empowering to see a woman single-handedly lead or defeat an army, but what about her flaws? Her insecurities? Her moments of vulnerability? Those are the things that make her relatable, that make her human. That makes her resonate with readers.

Take the classic "strong female character" archetype and add some depth to her. Maybe she's a skilled warrior, but she's also quick with a sarcastic quip. Or perhaps she's fiercely independent, but she's also afraid of being vulnerable with others. Or maybe she's not. Maybe she's not strong or independent or fierce at all. Maybe her strength lies somewhere else. Give her layers, give her contradictions, give her flaws.

And let's not forget about the other roles that female characters can play. The witty sidekick, the comic relief, the immature goofball, the sensitive soul—these are all valid and important character types, and they deserve to be represented just as much as the badass warrior woman.

So, to all the writers out there: by all means, keep giving us strong female characters. But let's make sure they're more than just stereotypes. Let's make them human. Let's give them depth and complexity and nuance. Because in the end, that's what makes a character truly unforgettable.

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[vermilionvector]

Digimon Ghost Game EP. 47

That was an enjoyable episode.

Shadramon was dying and was "saved" by an unknown voice. He was turned into a seed and was planted in Tamotsu, one of Kiyo's research colleagues. The visual here was neatly done. It looks like human has "layers" in their body: physical and digital, and certain Digimons can forcefully interact with the digital layer, which in turn gradually affect the physical one.

When Tamotsu woke up, he saw digital limbs protuding from his body parts multiple times. Kiyo stumbled upon it and so Tamotsu asked for his help. Kiyo then summoned Ruli and Hiro for reinforcement. The night went by and Tamotsu's body was controlled by the figment of Shadramon's memory to search for junk food (literally). Ruli went to Mummymon for advice, and they decided to go inspect him against the patient's will. Meanwhile, while Kiyo was alone, Shadramon's memory took over Tamotsu and escaped from his room to where he last "died". This was where he learned that the body he possessed was of a human and learned from the unlnown voice that they could not be separated, much to Shadramon's dismay. Shadramon's body parts began to materialize and merged with Tamotsu's physical body, resulting in the worst body horror this series has to offer yet.

Hiro and Kiyo rushed in and found out that the one who was experimenting on the preservation of dying Digimon's memory was Nanomon. who wanted to surpass their own nature. He controlled Shadramon/Tamotsu's body to attack them. Fortunately, Mummymon arrived just in time. He advised them to use a magnet to separate Nanomon from their bodies, and Kiyo cleverly used TeslaJellymon's electricity and Espimon's metal part to make a magnet on the fly.

Yes. That's what you deserve from not finding the real Hiro already, Espimon.

Mummymon assessed that he could not help separate both of them. However, Thethismon used her special teleportation power to successfully separate them. While everyone was celebrating, Shadramon's body started to disperse. Since he was not supposed to be here in the first place, all was returning to the natural order. And so he finally disappeared amidst his anguish.

Nanomon was captured and Gammamon seemed to like him. Looks like he was planning to add him to the small Digimon collection along with Eyesmon. Too bad Nanomon was taken back to the digital world by the yet-again-appearing-for-convenience-only BlackTailmon Uver and yet-again-letter-that-Hiro-happened-to-write-to-his-dad-in-case-he-finds-BlackTailmon-Uver was entrusted to him. Like he has to pickup that letter every time he leaves the house or he'll miss the chance to give it to him.

This episode is quite important to the main story. It introduces the concept that memory of a dying Digimon can be preserved in some way, even if what was shown was a failed one. But this alone already implied that someone has already succeeded. The theory about GulusGammamon being Gammamon's past self being preserved inside his new self holds more water now. Because the only failed step in this part is separating the Digimon from the human's body, it seemed like a human's readiness is needed in this process. Hokuto's disappearance to the Digital World might be related to this. Maybe he either went there to assist the process, or to find a candidate. That candidate might as well be Hiro himself. He just needs to make sure his son is up to the job, so he sent Gammamon to bond with him first, in hope that the separation would be more clean.

If this is true, the question is: why the need to separate Gulus from Gammamon?

So many questions left unanswered, but at least it is one of the plot-relevant episodes in this sea of fillers. But maybe those fillers will return in an unexpected way.

Another noteworthy point is that Tamotsu could still see Mummymon even without Shadramon's influence. Kiyo is going to have a hard time explaining all this to him. But then again, AI Hologram is the most probable answer, which leads back to my older question: just what is AI Hologram capable of in normal humans' minds? Eithery way, he could be a returning character in supporting Kiyo to build the bridge between both races, but he's not Tamer level yet for me.

Also Betelgammamon derp face.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Not on my boat

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | whilst helping Sam fix his boat, during the midst of its progression, Bucky corners you within the old Wilson heirloom, leaving your friend and future captain, rather disgusted in the both of you.

Warnings | tfatws spoilers, mentions of death, some angst, smut, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, bit of choking, swearing

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Hearing the waves crash against the side of the boat brought a smile upon your face, as you felt the breeze brush against your face. It was peaceful, fixing something rather than leaving it broken in order to save lives. If you weren’t swarmed with the government on your tail about how you were not allowed to use your powers, you’d be living out a free and happy life with the man you loved.

You were enduring a break from your assistance on the old Wilson vessel, your legs plodded around its platform, as you surveyed every piece that was in progress. Soon it would be in tip top shape, and when Sam and Bucky’s relationship was on par with that, that was when the two of you had planned to leave. There were plenty of things the two of you had to make up for before you could reside in peace; one of those things was that list of his.

It was a ledger of the amends that he had to make, a reminder of all the lives that had either taunted his own, or he had stolen from whilst he was not himself. James did not deserve the grievance that he was pardoned with, he was struggling, that much was clear. He had lost Steve, and then he was forced to watch as the shield had been handed off to some wanna be cap. To say he had been furious at Sam was a deep understatement, but as said, he was making amends.

Sam was a good man, you had learnt that much from the time that you had spent avenging to him. You had yet to tell him, but you weren’t planning on going back to that life after Karli was stopped, you wanted to continue working in the small shot bar slash grill, where Bucky and Youri would visit during your hours for lunch, and remain in that partition of worlds. Having Bucky and normalcy was a fine balance, which was a deep seated structure that you deeply needed.

If you did not have that then you were sure you’d explode, and hurt someone, or break something. That was no longer your duty, the fighting that you had spent most of your life giving into was coming to an end, and you were more than fine with that. A civilian life sounded good enough, and something that you could definitely settle for, though, you weren’t sure that Bucky would do the same, you hoped that he would.

That gleam in his eye was far too noticeable every time that he looked at that star striped shield. It had brought him much pain, but it had been there in the corner of his sight everywhere he had went. And now, Sam Wilson, the man that his best friend had entrusted with it, finally accepted the mantle, holding it in his firm grasp, ready to become the next captain to walk the earth, and both you and him knew that he would do far better than Walker could.

He was already a hero, he’d been fighting the Sam foes as Steve for some time, that was enough to know that he was ready. His hesitancy had been understandable, more so after listening to Isiah, though, it was nice to see Sam take his own path on this one. There were pictures of his younger self assembled upon the wooden walls, he was with his sister Sarah. She seemed like a nice woman, a part of you wished that you get to know her better, but she wasn’t a buyer into the whole superhero get advantages agenda, and nor were you.

From what you could tell, Sam had his advantage right here; his family. Sarah was supportive of him, always aiding him necessary, whilst she simultaneously raised to young boys, that looked admirably up to their uncle, and feeding the kids that they went to school with because their parents had no intention to. If you could, you’d buy a replica of her life, her head was above water, although the boat almost wasn’t.

The boat. It was an heirloom, something that you did not have of your own family. Everyone was gone, the only person you had was Bucky, and thinking of him caused a light chuckle to fall from your lips, he made you endlessly happy. But neither of you could have the picture perfect life, and that was why the pair of you worked, you were each well aware of the restrictions that taunted you both, and had both been down dark roads on more than one occasion.

Things were turning brighter though, as the sun glared through the old glass, casting luminosity to stroke the high points of your face. A gently creak had your head diverting to the door way, where no other than James Barnes was leant up against, his metal arm pressed to the frame as he adoringly swept his oceanic pools over your form, slowly stepping closer.

“What are you thinking about doll?” He asked you, his tone genuine, as you sighed from his words, rubbing your eyelid as you felt a small itch. You puffed your cheeks, as you placed your hands on the super soldier’s waist, rubbing small and vigilant circles through his grey shirt.

“Too much.” It was an honest answer, everything was rattling around like pins in your mind, sinking in and letting loose to their own will. They could not be organised, they would only tumble about again, until the box was empty, though, for now, you had nowhere else to put them.

“Sarah said we could spend the night.” At his words, you hummed, taking note once more of how generous the woman indeed was. “We get the couch, so you best be on your best behaviour baby girl, nothing dirty goes on inside.” A small smirk crept its way onto his handsome face as you gasped at his spoken intention, lightly hitting the vibranium of his arm.

“Why do you blame me for not keeping it in my pants?” You interrogated him, glaring up at the man with a furrow between your brows. “You’re the one that corners me, a lot like this actually, so that you can get your own way and fuck m- oh, that’s exactly what you’re doing now, isn’t it?” You scoffed, crossing your arms and stepping away due to the man’s hormonal impulses. “Why am in not surprised?” You asked yourself, shaking your head at the behaviour of your partner.

“Hey, I’m doing us both a favour. Sex in someone else’s house is not exactly appreciated, and there’s kids, that i would rather not risk getting caught by.” He moved towards you, grabbing an ass cheek in each hand, as he pulled you closer by his grip. “At least then, there’s a chance I can survive the night, without being woken up by you sucking me off, or riding me.”

He was pushing your buttons, and he far well knew that, almost too well. It was his technique to get you riled up, that way, there’d be no dismissal of his current proposal, though, you continued to wear that adorable frown that he loved so much, and so, he gave your ass another firm squeeze, causing you to gasp against his chest. “Fucking on their dead parents’ boat isn’t exactly respectful either.”

“We’re helping fix it, may as well take our break on board, let loose a little, release all that’s clouding your mind.” He shrugged, knowing that his words were tempting you into complying with his lustrous whim, and so, to put another step in to helping his cause, he stepped back, reaching behind him to pull his shirt over the back of his neck, leaving his muscular torso bare, and free for your eyes to roam.

“That’s not fair.” You whined at him, not stopping yourself as you moved closer, and smoothed your hands down his stomach. “You’re such a tease Barnes, why couldn’t you have just fingered me in the public bathroom and waited until tomorrow?” A groan slipped from your mouth, as you peppered kisses over his warm flesh, tasting the sweat on his skin as your tongue swiped over the ridges of his six pack.

“Where would the fun have been in that?” He watched you roll your eyes, but continue to work your way down to his navel, stroking his v line with your fingertips. “We’ve had sex on a plane, might as well add a boat to the list.” Bucky remarked, groaning as you put your weight down onto your knees, looking up at him with your pretty eyes, as you palmed him through the denim of his jeans.

He could feel his cock stirring beneath the material, wanting more, eager to breach the layers that were keeping your tongue from rotating around him. But he remained still, as you swept your hair out from your face, the noise of your pulling down his zipper audible, as you sent him a naughty grin. The man above you licked his lips, breathing a sigh of relief when you tugged his jeans and boxers down, his erection swiftly bouncing up, the leaking tip pointing rudely at your face.

With a quick hand, you grasped his length, rubbing over his veins as you pumped him, spreading the moisture of his precum over his rigid skin, aiding you in your movements. As you proceeded to jerk him within your grip, your mouth moved forwards, your breath fanning over his balls before your tongue slipped out to stroke them, swiping up the droopy skin, as you suckled one into your mouth, contently moaning from the flavour of his skin.

Your eyes had shut as Bucky opened his own, watching you through a hooded gaze as you happily assisted his genitals, sending him into a crusade of pleasure as you used your well adversed skill set upon him. Your bottom lip ran up his shaft, slowly dragging along his reddened skin, until your reached the tip, your hands fleeing down to fondle with his sack, as your mouth stuffed itself full of his cock.

“Baby girl.” He breathed, his chest feeling tight as he stood there, practically naked aboard your friend’s boat. James gritted his teeth, watching as you effortlessly bobbed your head up and down half of him, lazily grinning as gagging sounds eventually emitted from your throat as you had him down the back of your throat, saliva slipping down your chin as you shook your head from side to side with him choking you with his dick.

Though he worried not for your struggle, not as you moaned against him, your lashes fluttering though your eyes were shut. He reached his vibranium hand down, stroking the side of your face with the cool metal, a high whine whistling it’s way out of your nose. Your spare hand reached up, cupping it against you, as you hollowed your cheeks, steadily breathing your nostrils.

A light frown covered your face as you focused on smoothing your tongue on his underside, causing Bucky to throw back his head, his stomach sternly clenching as he felt his balls twitch; and then, before he could fathom it, he was filling your mouth, cumming down your throat, as he pulled out, the last of his seed falling upon your tongue as he manhandled himself, feeling sensitive as he watched you fumble your tongue around your mouth, swallowing the mix of your spittle and his cum.

“Taste so fucking good.” You spoke, laughing lightly as you stared up and saw his dazed expression. Bucky pulled you up, his hand cupping your ass again, as he backed you up against the dash, your back lightly hitting against the window as he pulled at your shorts, whisking then down your legs, rubbing you through your underwear. His tongue explored your mouth, tasting himself as he located your clit, your arms grabbing at his shoulders to push him down, to which he complied.

His noises echoed through your mouth, as he pressed kissed along the top of your thighs, his fingers surpassing the seams of your panties, swiping at your entrance, until his prodding ceased, and he sunk his middle finger into your pussy, feeling you clench around him instantaneously. His teeth bit into your skin, emitting a squeal out of you as you harshly tugged his hair, making him rut his loose cock against nothing but the air.

“So wet.” He mumbled against your skin, as his vibranium snapped the sides of your underwear, letting the damp material fall to the floor, as he licked circles around your clit with his tongue, pulley airy sounds of pleasure of of your lungs. He slipped in another finger, his nose being pressed against your mound as you tugged him even closer, feeling as though you were almost there. Then you came, his fingers quickly exiting you as his tongue plunged in your entrance, cleaning up all your juices.

“Need you to fuck me Buck, please honey”. The man stood, stroking his hard cock as he teased your entrance. He swiped it through your slit a couple of times, before slapping his head against your clit, making your mewl against his lips, as you licked your essence from around his mouth. “James...” His cocky demeanour returned, as he watched you glance down at his cock, pressing your lips together in desire.

“Thought you didn’t want to fuck me on the boat.” He sneered dominantly, gripping your throat with his vibranium fist, giving it a tough squeeze, finding it endlessly hot as needy tears pooled in the corners of your eyes. Your lips pouted as you sputtered to speak, but you were just so hungry for him. “Guess I’m just gonna have to take pity on you doll, aren’t I?”

With that,he wedged his way through your folds, filling you to the brim as he bottomed out, gently releasing your throat to paw at your tits through your shirt. “Move baby, move.” You mumbled, your head feeling dizzy as your nails dug into the back of his neck, pulling him closer so that you could place tender and supple kisses across the front of his shoulders.

And so, he began to thrust into you, keeping a grip on your hips as he raised your leg around his waist, driving into you deeper, your head tiredly lulling as you chanted his name in soft and delirious pants. “So damn tight angel.” The soldier muttered, biting down onto your chin as he kissed his way up to your lips, abusing the swollen flesh a little more. The kisses were sloppy and downright needy, his vibranium hand held your chin up so that it would tip in rhythm with his movements, making access to the inside of your mouth easier.

“Buck.” You mumbled against his lips as your eyes rolled, your own hand circling your clit as you jutted against his exceeding administrations, one hand crawling up into his scalp as you let our small screams. You were indefinitely close, and as Bucky swerved his head around your own, moving his lips to nip at your earlobe, you came, coating his cock in your wetness, as he continued to hit his hips against your own.

It wasn’t long until he followed after, your clumsy hands trailing down to roll his balls in your palms being the last thing to push him over the edge. Bucky remained standing between your legs, each of your heads resting over each other’s shoulders as you felt each other, eyes closed, and smelling how the aroma of your sex wafted around you, like a personalised perfume.

“Hell no.” And the peace was broke, as Sam’s voice broke it. He had his hands on his hips as he shifted his gaze away from the two of you, unimpressed by what had happened. “The two of you get a break and you - not on my boat!” He practically screeched like a falcon at the pair of you, his arms flailing about like a bird’s flapping wings.

Although he was maddened, it didn’t settle well with you. You were too far out of it to acknowledge what he must have thought about the on deck dick that you had gotten, you were too lost in Bucky, the feeling of him still inside of you, and the falling of his cum out from beneath you both. “You know what, I’m outta here.” Sam left, quite glad to do so.

“You alright doll face?” Bucky asked as he pulled out, making you wince from the feeling of emptiness. You nodded as he reached for your underwear , leaving them be when he registered he had torn them, and instead opted to picking up just you’d shorts, pulling them onto your legs, redressing himself afterwards.

“I love you Buck.” You smiled tiredly, humming as he pecked your lips a few more times, combing his hands through your sex hair, as he returned the facial expression, seemingly calm. It looked good on him, the pair of you had momentarily forgotten your traumas, and it was bliss.

“Love you too darling.” He pecked your nose, staring lovingly into your eyes as he helped you down, and abled you with support to stand. “Unfortunately I think our breaks over beautiful.” He spoke, his hand upon your waist as the pair of you walked from the scene, going to fetch a bottle of water from Sarah, whom you hoped had not learn of your oversea adventure .

[sepublic]

The Golden Guard: Eda’s Dark Parallel?

           Does anyone else think that the Golden Guard actually reminds Lilith a LOT of Eda, specifically Eda as a kid, during the good old days before she got cursed?

           Think about it… They’re both sassy, hot-headed teen prodigies with an owl motif and yellow attire. And the way Lilith angrily talks about the Golden Guard, it seems her feelings of resentment mirror how she felt towards Eda back when they were kids? Lilith, who was by-the-book and traditional, worked so hard… And then there’s this younger person with an Owl motif who just swoops in out of nowhere and through talent, completely outclasses her!

           If you go with the idea that Lilith wanted Gwendolyn’s approval and had to compete with Eda over that… Then for all we know, maybe Lilith lowkey wanted Belos’ approval as well, but felt like she was being cheated out of that with the Golden Guard, who kept stealing the spotlight from her! 

          Like she was afraid he’d take her spot as head of the Emperor’s Coven, the way Lilith feared that Eda would win the initiation duel back when they were kids… And lo and behold, the Golden Guard DID take that! Granted Lilith left an obvious vacancy from her own betrayal of Belos so of course he took that spot, but still; It’s quite a sore spot.

           In some ways, perhaps Lilith is aware of this, deep-down or not; She might see the Golden Guard as just Young Eda, but without any of the emotional connection, nor any redeeming qualities; If he does have them, again, it’s not like Lilith knows the Golden Guard well enough to know these traits, much less take them into account.

           LOTS of text and speculation and analyses below!!!

           The Golden Guard is even sixteen years old… Which, is very likely EDA’s age, back when her and Lilith competed for the Emperor’s Coven! That can take on a whole new, dark meaning for her… 

          Perhaps Lilith is low-key disturbed by the Golden Guard’s existence, because he reminds her too much of Young Eda? Eda, before she was cursed- So it’s like the memory of her is coming back to haunt Lilith, in the form of someone who has no concern for Lilith whatsoever to hold him back, unlike the actual Eda.

           And in a way, it’s a horrible reminder that some things never change, that some things stay the same and Lilith can’t get past them, she can’t outgrow it like she thought she did; Because even now, even as head of the Emperor’s Coven, there’s still a 16-year-old prodigy with an owl motif and yellow attire, who is sassy and playful and mischievous, who threatens to upstage Lilith’s self-esteem and sense of power. Somebody Lilith is afraid of; Thirty years later, and she STILL has to deal with this kind of person in her life, but it’s worse because she’s actually older and should be better, yet somehow isn’t…

           Who knows? Maybe Lilith even recognized the similarities to Eda, enough to actually be sympathetic to the Golden Guard at first? Perhaps she, on some level, saw the Golden Guard as a way to vicariously redo her past with Eda, but without the mistakes… Maybe she tried to be nice to the Golden Guard, but then he quickly turned out to be a snob, he’s not REALLY Eda; So Lilith settled on never cursing him like she did Eda, but then otherwise decided that she didn’t owe him any love and could just quietly loathe his guts.

          Lilith failed Eda in part because she was an older sister who abandoned her in a time of need, but there’s not really that expectation with the Golden Guard, so why bother? She’s got enough on her plate as is, and an ACTUAL Eda to worry about, to look after, to be concerned for and patch things up with.

           I’ve even seen people make the very good point that in a lot of ways… The Golden Guard is like a Dark Eda? In the sense that, he’s Eda, had she joined the Emperor’s Coven as a kid. He’s a look at Young Eda, if she didn’t reject the Coven System, and joined Belos- Reveling in her own talent and power as granting her ‘special treatment’ over the rest, so any downsides to the coven system weren’t HER problem anyway!

           Again, this adds another layer to the Golden Guard being very reminiscent of Young Eda, and even current Eda as well… Except, he never lost his magic and was never cursed. Maybe that’s another thing he unknowingly haunts Lilith over; He’s lowkey a reminder of what Eda could’ve been, had Lilith not been selfish and a coward, or had she communicated better. Yet at the same time, he’s frustrating- Because the Golden Guard is like the worst parts of Eda, the parts that Lilith hated and made her resentful…

           And this constant reminder of the past, of her own issues with Eda back then that culminated in the curse- It could’ve made it a LOT harder for Lilith to really resolve things with Eda, because this kid keeps reminding her why she was so angry, and it’s impossible for her to move on because the Golden Guard isn’t some distant memory, but an actual person who continues to threaten her, the way Eda had…

          And of course, the Golden Guard reminds Lilith of the Eda she lost; The happy, carefree Eda who wasn’t cursed, the Eda she could’ve had in a sense. The Eda that Lilith in some ways wanted, yet is forced to confront and acknowledge is a very obnoxious and terrible person that makes her unhappy…

          And this kind of rude reminder that the Eda that Lilith wanted would’ve continued to make her miserable, if not moreso, is not something she appreciates shattering her dreams and low-key denial, of a world where things had just been a little different.

          The person you’re trying to get, maybe get BACK, wasn’t so great after all- So you just have to move on, and be glad for the Eda who IS happier with her life and more mature, despite being older and more cursed. You gotta move past your guilt Lilith, and realize that Eda is in a better place- Not that she ever needed the curse, but she doesn’t quite need saving from the parts of her life she actually chose for herself, in part to be kind to Lilith no less! Because I bet Lilith believes that deep down, she didn’t deserve Eda’s kindness, so she wishes to reverse that compassionate decision of Eda’s that only resulted in Eda suffering because of how terrible Lily secretly is.

           But, back to the subject; There’s more similarities to Eda and the Golden Guard, especially at the end of Separate Tides; How he makes an ominous warning before casually, happily yelling “BYYEEEE!!!”, just like Eda when she warns Luz about trying to have a Moonlight Conjuring in Hooty’s Moving Hassle, before heading off to the Night Market. His widow’s peak even bears a decent resemblance to Eda’s, doesn’t it? Which…

           Combined with all of the talk about bird motifs being a Clawthorne thing, it DOES raise many questions about the Golden Guard’s potential connection to Eda. Is he some long-lost son? A third child that Gwendolyn had later in life, because witch biology might allow them to do that? Some homunculus, crafted from bits of DNA from Eda, and maybe even Belos? Belos does seem weirdly fond and trusting of him, the two are placed together in the Season 2 outro when nobody else, not even Kikimora, is there; And of course, the Golden Guard wields a staff, red magic, and fleshy creations, VERY similar to Belos…

           I can’t say for sure- But the idea of the Golden Guard as an alternate Eda is fascinating. An Eda who became completely arrogant, and didn’t stop to care about others; Her cockiness and mischief becoming cruel and obnoxious, essentially the worst parts of Eda, down the path she’d always dreaded. A look into another life, a different choice in such a pivotal part of her past… Personally, I LOVE this kind of dark parallel of a character, so I’m hoping these similarities are commented upon in-universe, assuming they’re not outright literal!

           In a way, the Golden Guard could haunt Eda, because he reminds her of herself… Of her carefree youth, but what she could’ve had… But also, the terrible things she’d done. And obviously Eda despises the coven system too much to really change her mind, and it’s safe to say that the Golden Guard is not at all what she wanted to ever become… But still, it’s a neat bit of character writing and parallelism. If Belos is like a Dark Luz, what Luz could’ve been had she not grown… And the same could apply between King and Kikimora;

           Then who knows? The Golden Guard could be a Dark Eda, who got by talent and continued to take things for granted. An Eda who swore loyalty to Belos and was embraced by the emperor for her skill and ability. Jovial and cheery, but without any of the actual compassion that makes this genuine with Eda. An immature brat who never grew up (granted he’s only sixteen and hasn’t gotten the chance), unlike Eda. And if the Golden Guard is an alternate Eda;

           It’s fascinating how his roles are reversed with his alternate Luz… The Eda parallel is younger than the Luz parallel, learning from them, and taking after their motifs as well! But I guess it’s not all too surprising, with how Eda and Luz both learn from one another, though I suspect Belos and the Golden Guard aren’t as mutual, but who knows? 

          It does make you wonder about Kikimora and King as potential mediators between these duos, whose placement remains consistent… How does Kikimora, the King parallel, interact with her Luz and Eda? Did she become close friends with HER Luz, while, as Dana’s art suggests, she seems somewhat irritated by and resentful of her own Eda? So it’s like Eda and King never grew to be friends and conquer differences… As well as if King never grew to respect Luz and saw her as just a “f*cking nerd”?

           With how Luz is taking after Eda, and possibly getting a Cardinal palisman to complete the Clawthorne motif as a new member of the family… Who knows? The Golden Guard could be an intriguing character for her to bounce off of narratively, maybe as someone Luz might have, in another universe, learned to look up to and admire? How well Luz’s relationship be with the Golden Guard, if they are a Dark Eda? And how can this indirectly show us about how Luz and Young Eda would’ve interacted, what Young Eda was like, what Lilith went through as a kid…

           And, for all we know- The Golden Guard’s owl motif doesn’t hint at a pre-existing connection to the Clawthornes, but rather a future one… Maybe he’ll end up being adopted by Eda, the way Luz was? I’d love to see the Golden Guard become an evil older sibling who’s protective of Luz… 

          I ADORE that trope to death; Evil older brother with bright, younger sister, whom he cares about, and the sister cares for him too, even if it’s complicated because the sister believes in the brother to be better, while the brother doesn’t want to be better, or is at least reluctant about having to change…

           I’d love to see another Hugo and Kipo dynamic, and actually… If the Golden Guard parallels Eda, then who’s his Lilith? Could it be Luz herself? I’ve talked before the similarities between Luz and Lilith, as kids who were bullied and struggled with a lack of talent, but made up for it with hard work and ingenuity; They’ll give you a lot of trouble for doing the right thing, but then happily leap at the opportunity if they think someone is improving.

           And, as Separate Tides has also shown us; They both grapple with guilt over making Eda suffer, unintentionally to varying degrees. Luz and Lilith both learn that they’re not a burden and that it’s okay to ask for help, and come to terms with their guilt with Eda… If Belos and the Golden Guard are Luz and Eda reversed, then could Luz and the Golden Guard also be Lilith and Luz, reversed?

          With the Eda parallel being the older sibling in this scenario… An alternate timeline where Eda and Lilith were the same people, but switched places in birth, and it was EDA who ended up being the cruel and toxic sibling who left the younger feeling demeaned and worthless. I imagine if that were the case, the Golden Guard’s toxicity would occur largely in the beginning, as he acts adversarial to Luz and mocks her, taunts her over Eda’s loss of magic, and her own glyphs no doubt; The Golden Guard doesn’t seem to acknowledge glyphs as a valid form of magic himself.

           But then, if he were to get a redemption, the Golden Guard’s tune might change as he matures and learns to treat Luz more kindly… In a way mimicking how Eda really grew to care for Luz, but also the way Eda has begun to reconnect with Lilith, except with the Golden Guard as the one with the baggage and guilt.

           And, a redemption might not be too implausible, because… He is literally only sixteen, the same age as Emira and Edric, and likely the same age as Eda when SHE was cursed. Younger than Lilith, when she made the worst mistake of her life, because she didn’t understand the coven system for what it truly was –and who could blame her?- and was grappling with a likely terrible mother in Gwendolyn… The Golden Guard is literally a minor, and possibly an overworked teen prodigy.

           After all, the first glimpse of his personality Dana gave us, way back in 2020, was of the Golden Guard admitting that he was tired; And despite his usually cheery personality, all of our glimpses at his face behind the mask (symbolism!) have had him look likely serious and glum… But then again, we don’t see the lower half of his face, so who knows? 

          Perhaps the Golden Guard is abused and overworked by Belos, kind of like Amity with her parents… The Golden Guard is a child dealing with a very toxic influence, and a huge burden of responsibility no less. And with all the potential connections to Belos as maybe even a literal father, or at least a parental figure, it’s not hard to see why the Golden Guard would turn out so messed up. And the Golden Guard being ‘tired’ could be a connection to how Eda is left exhausted from her curse, too.

           So, who knows? Because of his age, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to expect, or at least hope, for a redemption for this kiddo. But a recent sister show to The Owl House has taught me anything, kids aren’t free from death, and Infinity Train made it clear that you can humanize and sympathize and mourn someone who deserved better, yet ultimately dug their grave and was condemned to a sudden death because of that; All because they didn’t know any better, and really couldn’t have.

           And on another note- Maybe the Golden Guard has owl motifs like Eda… Because in a lot of ways, he actually admires her? He admires the Owl Lady, or at least the certain ‘past’ version that others such as Lilith may have brought up… Maybe the Golden Guard seeks to supplant Eda the Owl Lady as The Most Powerful Witch in the Boiling Isles. Maybe he sees himself as Eda, but better, and this rebellious, hot-headed kid feels the need to prove himself by defeating someone he sees himself in.

           Maybe the Golden Guard is like Lilith, as someone who wishes Eda could’ve joined the coven system, and he’s disappointed in how all her talent was ‘wasted’ on other things. Maybe the Golden Guard was disappointed in Eda losing her magic, losing further respect for his ‘problematic idol’, and/or he felt some validation and vindication in being a successor to Eda. 

          Does he hold some grudge? Did the Owl Lady’s power excite him, give the Golden Guard a goal to recklessly challenge and defeat, so he can experience the thrill of victory and add to this feeling of invincibility that teenagers, especially the talented ones, have?

           Eda as a kid, and even now, has always been fond of spiting what others say she can’t do, or setting new precedents and accomplishments to prove herself. Maybe the Golden Guard is like that, and hopes to take on the onus of outdoing the Owl Lady; Perhaps he admires Eda, and wishes she could’ve joined a coven like him. As an outside admirer, he mourns Eda’s ‘potential’ in a way similar to Lilith, but different; Because he’s a kid who looks up to her, and not an older sibling that has an actual childhood with Eda. If so, then that’s another dark parallel to Luz;

           After all, Luz got frustrated by Eda in Adventures in the Elements. So maybe the Golden Guard is someone who grew resentful of Eda for not living up to the legend he hoped, the image he wanted, sort of like Lilith! I’ll go out on a limb and even suggest him as a past apprentice, who unlike Luz, never learned to be patient and appreciate Eda’s teachings, so he turned to the coven system and Belos for easy gratification. He didn’t want to be challenged… And in that way, the Golden Guard could parallel my speculation on Belos, as also a Dark Luz.

          So of course, it makes sense that Belos would recognize this same dilemma in the Golden Guard, and perhaps be sympathetic and take him under his wing for it. Eda might not recognize the Golden Guard because he’s changed a bit himself, is hiding his own identity –Lilith doesn’t seem to know much about the witch beneath the mask either, just the public image and façade- and Eda’s been having memory issues. Maybe this will add to the Golden Guard’s resentment, who knows? He really might just be a rebellious teen who Eda failed, unlike with Luz… And that could add to more envy, perhaps.

           At the very least; Dana’s fondness for the Golden Guard takes on a whole new meaning… What with how Eda is pretty much one of, if not THE most favorite character of hers, the one who really jumpstarted this entire show and world to begin with… Having this other character she likes essentially be a canon AU version of that beloved creation, would certainly make a lot of sense! Dana likes Eda, she likes to show us about Young Eda; So a character who IS Young Eda, just on a different path, would likely appeal to her. We’ll see…

           I think it’s worth noting that in her art of the Golden Guard, it depicts him as essentially a normal, lazy teenager who’s asking someone else to do his chore for him, while he lounges around to do something else. I could see a young Eda as occasionally fulfilling that role and asking her older sister Lily for a favor- And maybe this could allude to the Golden Guard being frequently exhausted from being overworked himself, hence “I’m tired” and wanting to extend his breaks as much as possible. We’ll just have to wait and see…

[bestintheparsec]

As Does the Snow

Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You and your neighbor, Frankie, get snowed in together. 

A/N: I wrote this down when the power was out while I was—you guessed it—snowed in. Nothing too deep/angsty in this (for once), just softness. Thank you for reading and I hope you like it!

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: none, some obvious tropes (snowed in, there was only one bed)

*Masterlist pinned to my page

~

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, prompting you to drop the pile of clothes you’re holding to answer it.

“Hey, Santi,” you answer the familiar friendly voice on the other end.

“You lose power yet?” he asks, slight concern in his tone.

“Just about an hour ago,” you reply, peering out the window. The sun’s still out, so you’ll be okay for a few more hours until it sets.

You’d all been expecting the power to go out, of course. The news has been tracking a seemingly out-of-nowhere snow storm that’s been headed your way, starting its impact a few hours earlier. You hadn’t expected to lose power so soon, though—it usually takes a lot more ice or wind to damage the lines. You’ve been preparing as best as you can for the cold nights ahead. With the lack of heat and power, it was bound to be a long night or two.

“You have everything you need, right?” he asks after a short silence. Santi and the other guys, most of them, live closer to the city and away from the countryside that you'd chosen to live in. With the way the roads are, everyone's been warned not to drive if possible. Not that there’s anywhere to go.

“Yeah, I always do—”

“Listen, I was wondering if you could go stay with Frankie during this whole thing,” he chimes in.

Frankie lives across the street from you—you’ve been good friends with him ever since you moved in years ago, even becoming a part of his group of ex-military friends when he introduced you to them, and you'd fit in like you’d always belonged there. It’s perfectly reasonable that Santi would ask you to go stay with your friend to hunker down during a storm. You would all stay with each other if you could, but seeing as that’s impossible and you and Frankie only have each other right now…yes, completely reasonable.

Fuck, who are you kidding?

What seems like a long time ago, you realized you had feelings for Frankie. And, by some luck—or not—you found out they were reciprocated.

But things don’t always work out the way you want them to; hell, it seems like things never do. At the end of the day, you both had wanted to pursue something more with each other, but life got in the way, just as it often does. You both had a lot going on in your lives back then, things you had to deal with and sort out alone. Ultimately—awkward conversations and deep talks and all—you’d both decided it was best if you simply stayed friends, lest things become overcomplicated.

And so you did. Despite this small history, things haven't really been awkward since then. He’s still a good friend to you, one of your best friends, really, and the subject hasn’t been mentioned again ever since.

Only, you haven’t really moved on. You haven’t been much good at leaving the feelings behind you, either. At first you just kept shoving them away, trying to convince yourself that you felt nothing at all whenever you were with him, nothing except friendly love for one of your best friends. But despite your best attempts not to, you found yourself slowly falling more for him. Being close to him for this long has made it even harder for you to move past it.

Not that you've addressed any of this again.

Had you sorted out the things you were dealing with back then? Maybe. But you’d both decided on what was best, years ago, and given that Frankie hasn’t brought it up again since, it’s likely he wants to keep things that way. Time tends to help some people to move on, where it drives the knife in deeper for others. Frankie’s been on plenty of dates since then, even a relationship or two. So you know you were probably just a momentary interlude in his love life, someone he stopped thinking about in that way long before you could ever even think about moving on. You're nothing more than a good friend to him now. And so you've kept your continued feelings for him to yourself, allowing them to thinly layer your friendship like a light dusting of sugar that’s never quite sweet enough to stand on its own.

But the thought of sheltering with him for a few days? You're not sure if you can keep your feelings contained if you're with him for that long and with that much free time to get lost in your thoughts. But given the seriousness of the storm, you were both bound to end up at one or the other's place, anyways.

You must have been silent for a little too long, because Santi speaks again, breaking your thoughts. “You can watch over each other, that sort of thing. Besides, you know how he can be…” he trails off, waiting for you to answer.

“I—yeah, I’ll go over there,” you finally agree, nodding to yourself. “I was going to check up on him eventually, anyways. I’ll go over as soon as I finish up what I’m doing.”

“Sounds good—let us know if you run into any trouble. We’ll find a way over there if we need to.”

You mutter a quick thanks and remind them to stay safe before hanging up, tossing your phone onto the couch with a resigned sigh. Moments later you pick it up again, quickly sending a text to Frankie to ask him if it’s alright for you both to bunker together for the night. Which he quickly agrees to, of course—you’ve spent many evenings over at his place, or his at yours.

Really, you don’t know why your brain’s suddenly trying to make this weird for you. You’ll bring some snacks and blankets, and it’ll be just like any other Friday night you’ve spent with him. Not weird. There’s nothing there (at least on his end) for you to feel awkward about.

You shake your head and finish your emergency preparations, trying to be done with it before it gets dark so you can head over to Frankie’s.

~

Exhaling deeply first, you ring Frankie’s doorbell.

“Coming!” His deep voice calls from inside.

You shove your hands into your pockets then change your mind, moving them to grip anxiously onto the straps of your backpack. Another few moments pass before you hear Frankie trod to the door. He answers it with a soft smile plastered on his face, the same one he uses every time he greets you. Immediately taking the bag you’re carrying off your arm, he beckons you inside and you follow, shrugging off your backpack.

"Did you need help with anything?" You ask, dropping your bag onto the ground and looking around the darkened place. The windows are covered, there's flashlights and candles out on the table, and a couple cases of water are stacked in the kitchen.

He’s layered up in clothing just like you are—a familiar flannel button-up peeking out from under his jacket. His hair is messy like he’s been running around all day, which he probably has been from the looks of it. If you had to describe it, he looks like...home.

Stop it, you mentally chastise yourself.

“Nah, I’m just making some final tweaks,” he remarks, walking over to pull the living room curtains shut. “The house is warm enough for now, but it won’t be long before it starts feeling like the inside of a fridge in here.”

He turns back to face you with a different sort of smile on his lips, a gentle expression you can’t quite make out.

Unbeknownst to you, Frankie’s been in deep for you, too. He knows you'd both agreed not to date, but over time he's come to greatly regret that decision. It was the right one at the time, but he can't help but wish things had gone a little differently. There’s no one he’d rather be around, and any and all dates he’s been on over the years have failed for the same reason—they’re not you. They could never be you.

Chances come and go, and his has gone. In more ways than one you’re a light in his life, someone he couldn’t ever deserve, and somehow he’s lucky enough to have you in his life at all—even if it’s just as friends. If he’s a better person now, a lot of it’s because you’ve been there to pick up the pieces, the same way he does and will always do for you without a second thought.

But something you can’t help him with is the fact that he’s fallen for you, hard, long after you’d both agreed to just be friends. And he keeps on falling.

He knows people change their mind all the time, but he’s been unwilling and unable to bring it up again with you. For all he knows, that agreement had just been your gentle way of telling him “it’s never going to happen.” He doesn't want to risk scaring you off and losing one of the best people in his life.

Frankie comes back to reality, watching you smooth out the front of your shirt.

“Okay, well, I brought some of my blankets in case we need to pile them up…” you say, pointing to the large bag you brought. “And since your stove is electric, it looks like we’ll be eating snacks for dinner.”

“That’s bold of you to assume,” he retorts, walking over to the kitchen. With a silly gesture, he proudly uncovers a large dish full of one of your favorites.

Frankie is certainly no chef, but he can put together a dish or two, even going out of his way to learn how to make the things that you both love. He puts a hand on his hip, amused by the surprised look on your face. “I made it before the power went out. They did teach us some things about preparation in the military, you know,” he teases, dimple on full display.

“And here I was packing junk food and sandwiches, like a loser,” you jest, grinning back at him. Frankie somehow always manages to make your life a little better. He beams and your chest constricts at the sight.

"Oh, we'll definitely need those for later," he reassures you with a grin. "If the guys were here that'd all be gone before the worst of the storm even hits," he adds, making you laugh.

Some of your favorite nights with Frankie are the ones that are completely uneventful, ones where you relax after a long day of work and binge your favorite snacks while watching some crappy movie on the couch. Then again, it's always the little things that make you happy when it comes to him.

~

Once you've had your dinner you both get comfortable next to each other on the couch, chatting about life and nothing in particular, the way you often do—minus the lack of electricity and a mostly dark room that’s barely lit up by a couple of small camping lights Frankie has. No doubt the other guys would make things a lot more chaotically entertaining if they were all here, but you’re happy it’s just the two of you now—even if it does make it harder for you to think straight at the moment.

Frankie says something that makes you chuckle and you look up at him, noting the delicate smile on his lips and the way it almost balances out the tired lines under his eyes.  He meets your eyes, and if he looks like he wants to say something else, it's probably only in your mind because he doesn't.

The wind outside makes itself known, rattling the windows in its wake. You're suddenly grateful you'd agreed to come and stay with Frankie. Although you’re lucky to have a shelter, these kinds of storms are best when you don't have to ride them out alone.

You also become hyper-aware of how intimate the moments you share with Frankie are. At the end of the day, you're glad he's in your life, even if it's not the way the younger version of you wanted. You still have him and he has you, and that's really more than you could ever ask for.

A chill suddenly makes its way through you.

"Are you shivering?" Frankie stops talking mid-thought to ask you.

"What? No, I—" He cuts you off with a chuckle and shakes his head, reaching down into your bag. With a quick movement he pulls a beanie on over your head, purposely tugging it past your eyes as you laugh and playfully smack his hand away.

"Watch yourself, Morales," you attempt to glare at him as you smooth down your hair, but fail to contain your smile when you see that goofy twinkle in his eyes.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” he concedes and raises his hands in mock surrender. The grin is still on his face as he moves to fix the beanie on your forehead. Another quiet chuckle escapes his lips until his fingers move away from your forehead, accidentally grazing along your cheek.

It’s not the chill that makes you both fall abruptly silent.

It’s almost as if the wind wiped the grins off your faces as Frankie looks into your eyes with an intense gaze. His hand still hovers along your cheek, neither of you seeming able to move. You’re suddenly grateful that it’s impossible for him to hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears right now. Your imagination must be getting the better of you again, because you almost believe that there’s something wistful about the look on his face.

But just like that, he drops his hand and you both avert your eyes.

“It’s, um...getting late,” you break the silence. “We better get settled before it really starts getting cold in here.”

Frankie clears his throat, nodding in agreement and standing to pile some blankets onto the couch.

“What are you doing?” you ask him.

“Um...you know I don’t have the guest room set up. There’s just the bed in my room. You go get cozy, I’ll take the couch.”

"What? I'm not gonna steal your bed, Fr—"

“And I'm not going to have you uncomfortable in my house,” he brushes you off with a wave of the hand. “It's fine, querida, really. You know I've knocked out on this couch more times than I can count." Your chest warms at the sound of his pet name for you. It's harmless, just something he's always called you. But for some reason it makes your face warm to hear it this time.

“No, I mean...isn’t it better if we share? I think the whole point is to keep our bodies warm. It’s easier to do that if we’re in one room.”

He finally meets your eyes again, holding your gaze as though there's more than one thing on his mind, then runs a hand through his disheveled hair.

“I...Are you sure? I really don’t have any problem with—”

You smile softly at him, trying to hide any indication of awkwardness in your tone. “Yes, Frankie, it’s fine. Really. Besides, we can stack all our blankets together this way.”

He smiles back. “I have a big, fluffy one we can use, too.”

~

All the remaining heat in the house has definitely dissipated now, leaving behind a frigid chill. It's bearable for the time being, but leaves your skin covered in goosebumps anytime you expose so much as a sliver of skin to the air. The last time you checked, the snow had already made a significant cushion to the ground outside, and was still going strong.

You've been in bed for an hour or two, huddled into a ball underneath several layers of blankets and refusing to move because it only makes you colder to shift the air around.

Frankie's asleep next to you—you assume he's asleep, anyways. Neither of you have said a word in a while, and with the pattering sounds of snow falling outside, you're getting drowsy yourself. Still, you haven't been able to fall asleep, not even when you jam your eyes shut. It's too cold, for one thing, and for another, it's difficult to ignore the fact that he is right next to you. It's a big bed and there's a decent space between you, but still.

You shift positions yet again, trying to wrap yourself tighter in your section of the blankets. You move to readjust one of the blankets that's gotten pushed away, accidentally bumping Frankie's arm in the process. You grimace, hoping you didn't wake him.

"Your hand is like ice," Frankie's quiet voice suddenly fills the room.

"Oh—Sorry. I thought you were asleep," you mutter back, your voice muffled by the blankets.

"No. It's hard enough for me to sleep even when there's not a historic snowstorm going on." He jokes, though you know it goes deeper than that for him.

Not really knowing how to respond, you remain silent. Rolling onto your side facing away from him, you tuck yourself further into the blankets before resolving to pull them up and over your head entirely.

Frankie's soft laugh rumbles next to you. "Seriously, your skin is frozen," he tells you. “You’re like the opposite of a space heater right now,” he chuckles and you can hear the grin on his face.

You push the blanket off your face, feigning a groan. “Freezing weather and a lack of heat lends to poor circulation, Francisco.”

"I know, I just…maybe it would…it might be warmer if we slept closer together." His voice is so soft that you can’t help but think how nice it would be to fall asleep to the sound of it every night.

When you don’t answer right away he quickly adds, “Or not—I wasn’t trying to...I didn’t mean—Sorry.” Frankie shuffles uncomfortably under the covers.

“No, you’re right,” you murmur hesitantly, barely louder than a whisper. “It...would probably help.”

A beat of silence.

Then you hear Frankie gently move his pillow over towards you, scooting himself in until you can feel his warmth against you. He doesn’t move again at first, you only feel his chest rising and falling against your back. But ever so slowly, he wraps an arm over you, the weight of him sturdy and comforting. You can tell he’s tense—hesitant—until you place your own hand on his, holding him closer to you. Feeling you make yourself comfortable must put him at ease, and he relaxes around you. Neither of you say a word, just lay there sharing each other’s warmth.

You’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder on some late nights on the couch before—things two normal, friendly people do, right? But you’ve never let yourself think too much about it. You can hardly help it now, reveling in the way you feel safe in his arms, fitting perfectly along the curve of his body. You are warmer, although some of it may be because of the way your pulse is just a little bit quickened. You wouldn't mind if you had to stay like this forever.

Frankie quietly exhales, his breath warm against the back of your hair. “Better?” he finally speaks, his voice gravelly and hushed, not much louder than the sound of snow hitting the window.

A pause. “Yeah.”

You feel him relax even more, burying his cheek a little more into the space above your shoulders. “Let’s try to sleep, then, querida.”

And just like that, Frankie Morales manages to make you fall a little bit more in love with him.

It’s then that you realize—it’s always been simple with him. Everything is always...easy with him. Nothing’s overcomplicated or messy; it’s just you and Frankie. It’s what drew you to him first, long ago. It wasn’t the outspoken openness that that others had, nor the confident resolve, but the quiet way he cares for you. The way he manages to always make you laugh, even at the times when it’s almost impossible to. The way he makes you feel so whole that you forget there was ever anything missing in the first place. That’s how he found his way, permanently, into your heart.

For Frankie, it’s always been you. You’re a grounding presence to him, someone who’s made him familiar with peace again over the years.

He lies there listening to the sounds of your breathing, sure that you’re finally fast asleep. He feels sleep coming over himself, too. He knows he’ll sleep a little easier tonight with you. He’ll weather anything when it comes to you. That’s how he knows, and convinces himself that once this storm business is over, he’ll tell you. For now, he lets himself follow you into slumber. His last conscious thoughts are of how he wouldn't mind having you in his arms like this every night, and if it weren't for your warmth lulling him to sleep, he might've confessed to you right then and there.

 ~

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[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About "Echoes of the Past" from The Owl House

Salutations, random people on the internet who most certainly won’t read this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

What probably gets debated the most in the fandom is the legitimacy behind King being the King of Demons. Some believe that there's truth to his statement, while others, like me, like to think that he was just some stray Eda picked up off the streets. Either option seemed likely, especially since Season One never gave an answer that leaned one way or the other.

Then here comes the writers finally answering the question of who King is in episode THREE of Season Two! Because, again, they don't waste time on giving fans exactly what they want.

Fans wanted answers behind King, we got 'em, and analyzing what those answers mean requires going deep into spoilers. So if you haven't checked the episode out yet, I highly recommend that you do. Trust me, it's worth seeing.

Now let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

Luz Experimenting with Spells: Hey, look! More proof that Luz isn't an idiot like some people flanderize her to be!

But, seriously though, this is a perfect little thread to introduce into the story. Luz collecting knowledge from Lilith's old books and past work she and Eda made adds to Luz's intelligence while also providing a believable explanation for how she gets new spells. It's also nice to see that she has this little notebook (or spellbook) to help see what works and what doesn't. It's a level of experimentation that proves her dedication to becoming a witch while also exemplifying how she isn't stupid. Occasionally reckless, sure, but you can't say that the person who figured out an invisibility spell through showing her work is also an idiot.

Francios with a Knife: How did Francois get a knife? I don't know. But the fact that a random knife plopped out behind him with little to no explanation is funny, and I will not hear otherwise.

I don't make the rules. I just abide by them.

Luz’s Invisibility Spell: I breezed past this, but I honestly love this invisibility spell. More specifically, I love that there's a limiter. It can turn you, objects, and people you're in contact with invisible, but only as long as you can hold your breath. It helps make the spell something the characters can't always rely on, which is appreciated. Because if it works as long as they concentrate, what's stopping them from sneaking into Belos' castle and assassinating him in his sleep? It's a smart way of explaining why they can't always rely on something, despite how insanely useful it is.

Luz: Let's gush about Luz some more, shall we!

"Echoes of the Past" is another episode that has Luz on top form. She is constantly supportive of King, even if Lilith has a point in the dangers of indulging his fantasy as a powerful tyrant. Doing so would cause more harm than good, especially when King finds out Luz doesn't believe him, but her going along with it was all done with the best of intentions. Luz doesn't want to hurt her friend, and even if she did in the long run, she still makes up for it by helping King learn more about his past.

And, as another reminder, Luz isn't stupid. She's the first to say they should leave when it's clear how dangerous the castle is and is quick to figure out there should be more at the top. Luz is a loyal and caring friend who's also guarded and intuitive when the situation calls for it. This episode understood that, so here's hoping other fans will too.

Lilith: Yeah, she's still growing on me.

I feel like this episode shows a better idea of Lilith's place in the group more than the past two. She's a person who's obsessed with knowledge and learning but considers herself above the jovial nature of King, Luz, and definitely Eda. Therefore, she acts as the perfect catalyst for what jumpstarts this week's adventure. It doesn't surprise me in the slightest that she almost instantly dismisses King's claims due to considering herself more knowledgeable than everyone else. Still, I like how she's willing to believe King once she finally sees evidence that seemingly proves he really was the King of Demons, to the point of referring to him as "her lord." Hooty does the same thing, but it comes across as him fearing for his own life and choosing to be friends with someone who could maybe kill him in an instant. For Lilith, her newfound respect comes from the desire to learn more, and it's that desire that makes Lilith an enjoyable character to me. It's adorable to see, and it has some comedic flavor in moments like when she dismisses everyone else and their emotional revelations to take pictures of the carvings around her. I'm sure she'll cause some controversy like other characters with rushed reformations, but for me, I'm more than ok with her addition to the main cast.

More of Lilith’s and Hooty’s Friendship: HOW DOES THIS WORK!?

ON PAPER, IT SEEMS LIKE IT WOULD BE A BAD IDEA, BUT IT F**KING WORKS!

HOW?!

WHAT BLACK MAGIC DID THESE WRITERS USE TO MAKE A RELATIONSHIP SO UNEXPECTED COME ACROSS AS SO ENDEARING AND ADORABLE?!

And where can I get some for my stories...just asking.

But seriously: HOW?!

Hooty Making Himself Portable: Ah, yes. The classic bit where a character does something horrifically grotesque off-screen, and we have nothing but character reactions and sound effects to imagine what happened between shot A and shot B. It's an oldie, but given how hard I was laughing (mostly because of Luz's gagging), it's still a goodie.

Eda’s Portable Bathtub Boat Thing: I mean...I was expecting Eda would use something to catch up with the others, but...that thing...well...I mean, I'm still laughing just by thinking about it. That should tell you how well executed this joke was.

John Luke: ...I'm gonna go ahead and add him to the list because HOLY S**T was this guy disturbing! From his design to his movements to even the sounds he makes when moving, everything about John Luke screams as something that will stay in kids' nightmares for a while. Now, this might seem like a complaint, but to be honest, I'm more than alright with how creepy John Luke is. I highly doubt adult viewers will consider John Luke scary, but I guarantee he'll terrify some of the youngins that this series is aimed for. And that's fine. It's good to creep kids out a little bit with something somewhat scary, as it might introduce them to more good horror stories later in life.

Plus, the reveal that John Luke was only a guard for King is pretty solid narratively speaking. You can see how John never really meant to hurt King aside from one accident when Eda escaped with him. If you want to read into it, I guess it might be questionable to tell kids that something that looks dangerous is secretly nice, but that's really nitpicky, in my opinion. John Luke was a fantastic threat that is designed and animated well, with a solidly executed twist. Some might hate what he presents, most will fear him, but we can all agree on one thing: His theme is awesome (can I get the track for that, please)!

King’s Backstory: Finally, at long last, we know who King is, thus putting an end to a year-long debate. And I fully mean it when I say that the writers gave the best possible answer. Because in a way, everyone was right. Yes, King was just an animal that Eda decided to adopt, like the nature-loving hippie she is inside (She's got the hair for it). However, while he may not be the King of Demons himself, he is still the son of someone who deserves that title. So while he isn't the King, there's a chance he might be the Prince. Once again, there's no direct answer, but given how the writers came up with something that pleases everyone while still providing more questions for debate, it acts as a brilliant move, in my opinion. So whatever answer we get next, I'm sure it will be just as perfect.

Baby King:

My heart was not prepared for that level of cuteness!

King’s Breakdown: NOR WAS IT READY FOR THIS LEVEL OF SADNESS!

But in all seriousness, a HUGE round of applause to Alex Hirsch for his performance in this episode. He expertly captured the raw emotions of shock, anger, betrayal, and sadness that King must have felt when finding out that everything he believed he was is a lie. It's one of those moments where I don't hear a person voicing lines in a booth (or wherever the hell VAs are voicing characters nowadays), but instead hear a living person being emotionally torn apart. It was heartbreaking seeing King so vulnerable as he's so guarded with his emotions. Seeing him like this adds so much more layers to a character that many would mistake him as a cute, comedic animal sidekick. But just like with Luz, there's more to him than people will tell you.

“I don’t even know what’s real or fake anymore!”: I'm just pointing out this line because I believe it's what convinces Luz to help King learn more about who he is. Hell, not knowing what's real or fake is the main reason why Luz got sent away in the first place, so I feel like she can relate to King when he's in a similar predicament.

Hooty and Lilith vs John Luke: This was just a cool scene with some epic moments of dodging John Luke's attacks and some funny ones, like how Hooty said the word "pain." It's a ten out of ten that I would rewind to watch again.

King’s Other Horn: I'd question the logistics of how a horn that got broken off when he was a baby still manages to fit perfectly in the present...but it is neat symbolism of King accepting his past and letting it be a part of him, so who cares?

(The fact that the colors of the broken-off piece don't match the rest of the horn is nice attention to detail as well.)

WHAT I DISLIKED

It's a Little Too Predictable: I pretty much figured almost every little twist the episode offers. But, I'm willing to say that's because I'm in my twenties, and I've seen enough stories similar to this one, so I'm more likely to know what will happen. The little monsters watching this will see it for the first time, so they'll most likely get more surprised than me...And that was my only complaint about the episode...which is more of a personal problem than an actual issue...I guess that means it's perfect.

IN CONCLUSION

"Echoes of the Past" is an easy A+ in my book. It gives lore and backstory that furtherly develops the characters that episodes like this should. It also tells a tragic story about King that still sprinkles in a few good jokes every now and again to lighten up the mood. Sure, there are some nitpicks I could mention (how did King remember his own birth?). But when the good stuff is done so well, what's the point of dwelling on small, insignificant issues? This is still a phenomenal episode that flew past all expectations I had for it, and it continues the winning steak this season is having so far.

(But that's still three home runs in a row. Meaning that a stinker is coming. Ooiee, is it coming!)

[inthestars011]

what it’s like falling in love with her🦋🥺❤️

(Venus !!)❤️❤️ I did this fast so I apologize for grammar spelling mistakes xox

(I’m doing this by thinking of my friends and their methods or way of acting in romantic relationships however I will make another one doing in love with him and will touch on men with all the venuses that I’ve personally been in love with to add an even more personal touch xox)

Aries- Kisses that are short but kill you in the 5 seconds they last. Gives you forever in a minute. Always leaves you wanting more and that breaks you but fills you simultaneously. She knows that. She’s aware of her presence and that it feels like burning in all the right places. She seems naive and pure at soul, but shes well aware of the danger she holds in her hands and she uses it to her advantage. She loves the wanting, the chasing. She lives for the thrill, the game. She will run away before you can dispose of her heart and she might not let you see those broken parts but might just show a side that’s much funner, when it gets serious she may just become a runner. Sometimes, she is nothing but a machine running on fumes of lust expelling and leaving without a trace whenever she must. Some day she may realize that love might just be worth it, and that she really deserves it. But it still must consist of passion, fireworks, and all, if you plan on keeping her for the long haul.

Taurus Venus- she doesn’t want you to know she is soft, as she’s shown that side before, to many people she has lost. She’s not ready for change so her walls are built high, not even broken open by heavy ocean tides. Deep down she is melting, she is all love at the core. Filled with romance and god, so much more. She wants someone to truly share this with, but forever is all she ever asked for. If you cannot give her that she’ll retreat, become stubborn unable to make two ends meet. she might be slow at first to show her passion, she may show it through a touch that inhibits so much love. there’s nothing better than the comfort of her hug. She will heal all of you through a softness that you didnt think exists. She’s the definition of wife material, someone you’ll forever miss.

Gemini Venus- they describe her as flakey and that’s not always the case. There’s so many sides to her like differing tulips in a vase. I think she likes love but can find it in so many places, I think she can find love amongst so many faces. Maybe it’ll take a while for her to find her forever, but I do think deep down she does want forever. She won’t show all this meaning right off the jump. She’ll show something more innocent, naive and young. She is cute and pure, that, we are sure. She hides such greatness behind that coy smile, and the right person has to detect that, to truly find that. Maybe that’ll take a while. but that person will come that realizes shes more than just fun, she is the moon, just as much as she is the sun. She is eccentric and wildly funny. Her love feels like flying which is freeing but, a little terrifying, honey! It sometimes feels like, at any moment, she might let go, leaving one freezing in the December snow. Once it is true love, she is just as comforting as she is adventurous, she’ll give the whole world and expect nothing in return. Her love comes in teachings and there’s something we all can learn, from the glimmer in her eyes to her childlike hope. if she is truly in love, you will know.

Cancer Venus- her love feels just like home. The mom or dad you never had, and to play that role, she’s probably glad. every touch is enveloped with so much care. You can still smell the sea within her hair. She might be the mother or the baby or maybe even both, she always did help you unfold. When you think of her, you think of making out in your childhood bedroom, you think of the clinginess she exuded, maybe the eternal doom. The moods were never your favourite but you learned to savour it. You accepted every side of her maybe even the annoying parts too. She was your special seashell in the deep ocean blue, her love was nothing but true.

Leo Venus- Golden shimmers from above, a dramatic flair when it came to love. It was always, all show, all beauty, nothing below. Sometimes that was beautiful, sometimes you hated it. There was no in between, she served melodrama for breakfast lunch and dinner and you ate it up, there was no room for desert. Her love was like light shows and the strips of Las Vegas, entrancing but maybe too much at times. there was some innate programming she had that made her feel like she was never enough, but that she was, that she was. She was the big romantic gesture, love was extravagant and so was she. She wanted a love as she saw on the screens, the one that filled her childhood dreams. It was hard to live up to her firey passions, but it was worth it because she’d give you so much in return. She would love you till her flicker would burn out and she was all just heavy smoke and she’d continue loving you in the darkness. They called her the lion for a reason, her loyalty was fierce but her wrath was even fiercer. Her love was so lush, yet, the anger would defeat her.

Virgo Venus- Pure and awkward. The angel that was too good for you, the one that made you dream of laying and praying beside her feet. Not because her flirting skills were smooth and effortless, not because of lusty bedroom eyes, but because of the sweetness that filled her tired sighs. You could see that she wanted something real and that, pursuing maybe wasn’t her strong point, but you would do that for her. Once you got to know her, you unpeeled every layer and found more and more gold underneath, it scared her to show it, but her love grew fonder and she did it more confidently as time went on. Time is what grew our love and our passion, and it was as real as it could ever be. It was divination, it was serving a higher purpose. It was husband and wife, Adam and Eve, something so religious, something so prestiged. It may have seemed regular classic or boring. But to us it felt like our own little story. You got to know a bit more everyday and the excitement of that never did go away. I thank you for fixing all my brokenness even if it was slowly and surely, I thank you for helping me change. You are the only god to which I would pray to, the only holy ness that made the sadness go away.

Libra Venus- She’ll scare the hell out of you with her words. They’ll fall out of her mouth effortlessly, soft flower buds, blooming. She knows just what to say and she holds so much power in that. Her charm and her brilliance got you down on your knees, just a sentence, is all that it takes. Kisses sweet like strawberry shakes. But before you know it she doesn’t love you anymore, it was just a fantasy she had, merely a mirage. It wasn’t real but to you it was and it’s confusing and it’s making you insane. She didn’t mean to cause any pain, she is a fairy in the garden bouncing from tree to tree ever so lightly, taking what she can get and moving on to what’s meant for her. And maybe that wasn’t you. Maybe that’s ok. Because she’ll find someone who makes her heart beat from their touch and their words, someone that doesn’t make her want to create an imaginary world. Someone who just is pure beauty to her, someone who is nothing but real true love. Something more down to earth and better than the heavens up above. She will find it. And she will never let go.

Scorpio Venus- the tension that she holds. “Are we angry at eachother or are we so in love we can’t breathe?”She always made you feel both. Sometimes you thrived off of it, sometimes it made you seasick. She bit your lip and made it bleed as she pulled you in for your final kiss. She cried a little as she left. There was softness in her dark facade there was something light and airy. You only could touch it for a second before it slipped back underneath the oily meSs. The chaos was exciting and her loyalty was meaningful. Her jealously could kill and that you’ve seen. You smelled danger from a mile away on her shirt and you gravitated towards it for some reason. She’ll make her scar and the slice will hurt your skin, but you’ll forever want to bleed. She is what you need.

Sagittarius Venus- with her, love wasn’t hard. No, she made you think it was easy. It was giggles and being best friends. It was passionate make outs and spontaneous adventures. Love is all well and fun. Love is the horizon, a new dawn, abeautiful beginning. But sometimes it had to end. Sometimes she would run free and realize “this isn’t for me.” And sometimes she would come back as if nothing happened. It seemed like dissapearjng but to her it was just living out her honest truth. She wouldn’t wanna stay if what you felt for her wasn’t the same as what she felt for you. when it’s good it’s all passion, it’s perhaps not romantic but casual and fun. it’s two love birds on the run. Don’t know where they are going but they’re together and isn’t that what matters? They don’t know that eventually both their hearts might shatter. She loves the unpredictable and will revel in it with you, images of soaking your hands in waterfalls and late night rendezvous.

Capricorn- Her love is timid and perhaps bitter, but once she falls in love she’ll be unsure what hit her. She may laugh at romance till she is in the dream herself, she’ll then learn to fall in love with love itself. It takes a lot to serenade this girl, and she wants nothing less than what is perfect and no one can deny that she deserves it. She showed true commitment and loyalty and someone treated her like a joke and left her broken without a glint of hope. She is now careful in love and can you really blame her? But once you tear those walls down it’s impossible to tame her. She’ll want kisses in public and cuddles by the fire, she’ll believe that you are more than worthwhile. Yes it may take a while to break down the stones that she’s pilled in front of her heart, she will be more like concrete, but a soft touch and a smile that means well might just turn her into fragile glass, into running water. If you bash those walls down with steely swords and fight the dragons that protect her pretty soul than she might just believe in you, you might just help her believe in love again, and ultimately, she might believe in herself.

Aquarius- She will confuse you as she shape shifts into whatever he pleases. Sometimes, she is one full of romance and love and she gives you summer heat and sweet icecream. But sometimes the sunshine is fleeting, she is cold and detached and wants to be nothing more than friends. She is full of surprises and contradictions. She loves in a way that is strange but captivates you, you always want to know more. She is a good and loyal friend, funny and filled with adventures and a good wit. She is awkward and unsure of how to pursue true love though she does want it. deep inside she’ll never admit it, no, those feelings she hides. She’ll pull you in, and there you are falling in her wishing well, unable to climb back out and sometimes you can surround yourself in her water and drown in feelings but sometimes it’s empty and vacant, depressing, sometimes she is an endless drought. She’ll make you love her so much it terrifies you but she’s like electricity in your veins, absolutely addicting.

Pisces- She is the girl with eyes full of stars staring at you across the crowded room with a shy smile. She will not approach you but instead let herself escape to a dream in which you are the main role, she will be able to taste your lips, to smell your cologne even as she is not near you, even when she’s lying in bed at home. She will wish for you to come and save her from herself and she wishes you are as good as her heart makes you up to be, she wishes when you finally come and love her that you will never leave, because when she is abandoned, she is still left with those empty dreams. And the fantasies do haunt her, the memory of your soft kiss will taunt her. I hope for your sake you live up to what she dreamt you to be, otherwise she may be surprised, heartbroken, and she will not hesitate to leave. To chase some perfect crystallized image that dances in her head, she’ll cry and scream when people tell her Prince Charming simply does not exist, but she still believes all her past lovers were simply frogs she had to kiss and that she still awaits her soulmate. All this love and lust is only fictious for she is just the girl with eyes full of stars staring at you across the crowded room with a shy smile. Do approach her.

[cultofstan]

My love for Bane!!

Before you read, I want to make it clear that there are some nsfw parts to this posts. If you are under 18, please don't read!

This post will go over various details and reasons why my heart belongs to the big green giant know as Bane from Batman and Robin (1997). Get ready for a long read, because I've got a lot to say.

(If you haven't check out my Bane Wallpapers, go do check them out! They bring me so much joy, I hope they do the same for you ppl too!)

His mask is very cool and unique, because if you look closer you see they used Bane's comic book mask as a base and then just changed the mouth area and added black eye pieces on top of the red piece he normally sees out of. Imo, it is the best movie Bane mask we have ever had! A lot of people hate the multiple tubes coming out of his head, but I think it makes things extra spicy! A constant reminder that your not just dealing with any normal super human, you dealing with a venom infused one that can fight you like it's nothing! The bulging veins that can be seen in certain lighting is a detail I feel deserves more love. It adds to his big and tough demeanor. You can really tell the venom is working wonders on him! The zipper on the top of the head and the fact that his mask is most likely made of tight leather or latex brings thr entire thing together and is truly a marvel to look at! I absolute love it!💚Imagining him slick that smooth, stretchy, husky mask on while the venom starts to pump into his brain and muscles just does things to me. If Bane offered me a chance to wear it, venom or not, I would do it in a heart beat! It would probably reek of sweat, his bad breath, and of old leather, but I wouldn't care. Just the thought of inhale all those smells brings me a joy I can't describe! 😍

When I was a kid, in addition to his lovely mask, his clothing choice was another thing I loved about him. It looks like Bane is just wearing a black cotton tank top with some black sturdy pants, but I've always the headcannon that it's actually very flexible black latex one piece! It makes a lot more sense when you notice his collar, chest harness, wrist bands, crotch diaper, and boots are also make out of a harder leather with spikes and studs! I swear, half of my clothing choices/dreams come from this man! His boots, for the most part, are very frankenstein/gothic inspired with thick sole and it going all the way to his knees. The copper rivets are the only things that make them stand out, imo. I've had thoughts were in order to prove my love to him I have to lick or kiss his boots while he judges. I'd hate it for the most part, because they probably taste like dirty and dust, but I want him to know that I do love him, so I'd do small smooches starting from his toes and work my way up his leg until I'm straight up licking his boots. I'd get so carried away he'd probably make me stop pretty quickly so I don't get sick 😂. His spiked collar and wrist bands are easily the clothing items I want the most! Any time I see someone on the street with spikes in their clothing I immediately think about him. Because he's worn them for so long, they're probably not that tight or rough but still firm enough to not sag. Maybe even a little flaky in certain parts. I don't think I'm comfortable with myself enough to wear a collar in public but I've come so close to buying spiky wrist bands or gauntlets it's crazy I don't actually own a pair yet. One day, I'm sure. His crotch diaper, for lack of a better name for it, is the one thing I'm 50/50 on. Some days I think it really adds to his look, especially with the spikes that go out. Plus, to a certain extent, it makes practical sense because that way heroes cant go from behind his and try to restrain him, or can't throw too many kicks, without getting poked/cut by the spikes. But other days I think it just doesnt look that great, because it ultimatly looks like a big metal diaper, it takes away from his intimidation. Plus, I won't be able to give him proper hugs! (I want to give daddy all the hugs he deserves! 💚) His chest piece is what brings everything together. The little Bane symbol is so cute, I've always looked for a pin or something to buy but no luck. I actually used to have this Bane cape that I won at Six Flags when I was little. I cut the symbol of his face out of it and tried multiple times to attach it to my jean jackets but I suck at sowing. 🥲 The leather straps that hold the chest piece compliment the other leather pieces of his outfit. The metal looking chest piece looks wonderful and adds a layer to his character that I both love and hate. In this movie he's a drone, a mindless agent that is only allowed to follow orders. I'll will discuss this in a bit. But for the record, I hate the fact that Bane is written as big dumb idiot in this movie. It's the one big problem I have with him, which sucks because I literally love everything else about him!

I've probably watch the Bane transformation scene in Batman and Robin, like, a thousand times. No joke. I didn't realize it then, but seeing a short, thin, twink become a tall, hulking, king really hit my desires in the right way. Like, now, I know for sure that's one of my kinks and it makes me so damn happy! Granted, I've never been skinny in my life, but I've always wanted to be a musclar and strong man, so it makes sense why I love this scene so much. It's a literally fantasy of mine brought to life! More specifically, I've always wanted to be a type of strong that allows me to run miles like it's nothing, throw punches that instantly knock someone out, and lift so much weight that I borderline have a superhero body. Don't get me wrong, this is seriously mentally unhealthy because I know it's kind of impossible considering my personality and the actuality of gaining so much muscle, but I believe as long as I realize it's a dream and not beat myself up over it, it's not too bad of a thought to have. Actually, if you think about it, this Bane is kind of a plus size body representation. Sure he's got giant arms that can crush my bones like tooth pics, but he's pretty bulky with a big belly. That might be too much of a stretch to say, and I totally understand if people don't agree with. That being said, I have to say it, this man probably gives the best hugs in all of Gotham! He's so big that you don't even need a jacket in the house! Just let him embrace you and you'll never feel alone or cold again! His thick hands holding you in really tight, his muscles locking you in and warming your arms, while his gut pushes you back a little of your feet, like he wants to swoop you into his arms and carry you! 🥰 He'd be careful with his spikes of course, don't worry. A detail that sends me over the moon about Bane in this movie is his green skin. I can't put my finger on it, but it really adds to the whole transformation and therefore my thirst for him grows even bigger! Especially because it's completely unique to the movie. It looks so good that I wonder why the comics haven't adopted something similar.

I could go for hours about how I think the writers butchered Bane's character in this movie, but I want this post to mainly act as a positive appreciation post/background for head cannons that I might post about him one day. So to end, and give a taste, I'll finally talk about Bane being a drone in this movie. In weird way, because he's played as a mindless servent, it makes this version of Bane one of the easier Bane's for me to fantasies about. This is because in the movie, it's implied Bane only follows Poison Ivy because she was the first person he didn't see as a threat. Plus, I wouldn't be surprised if she used some of her suductive powers on him. (I would too, just saying) So, with that established, I like that he's a mindless drone because it means that, in my head, he's not exactly my "servant" but he will basically do whatever I say. Why? Because I will prove to him I not a threat either, and only want to love him!! He'll have a concuious and his own goals, and I'll follow along and help because I trust him and want to support him, but, for the most part, he will do what I say and love me in return. I could explain this more, but I want to save the juicy parts for the follow up post I have planned for this. 😏

If you've read this far, thank you. From the bottom of my hear. I've never wrote something this personal or long. I hope I can continue to do more of these, if I'm passionate enough.

[elle-imagines]

Ideal fem s/o for Tobirama and Madara? Personality traits, looks etc?

I just realized you said fem and I did them gender neutral since I’m used to writing that way. (-_-;)・・・ Reading is fundamental but apparently I can’t read. I hope you still enjoy them! 

Ideal S/O for Tobirama and Madara

Madara Uchiha

When it comes to looks, I’m sure Madara is not very particular and would date anyone as long as their energy matched his. I would say generally he prefers someone who is athletic enough to participate in his physical activities (wink). Musculature on anyone is very attractive in his eyes, and he views it as a sign of hard work and perseverance.

Madara enjoys passion. Enthusiasm. A hint of anger. He likes people who are expressive and can share their thoughts with him. When someone lights up when they talk about something important to them, he can’t help but smirk and absorb the beautiful energy they exude.

He has a thing for worn hands. Specifically the texture of them. He believes hands betray hard work and hands-on skills. Whether it’s calluses from writing or blisters from cooking or gardening, he notices it and believes it reflects a hard-working persona. Chipped nail polish? He doesn’t care. A strong grip? He’s fallen in love.

At the same time, he doesn’t mind a few layers and mystery to their identity. An ideal S/O doesn’t have to show who they are to him within the first hour of meeting him; he would hate that. Madara relishes in glimpses of who they are, the succinct memories they embed in conversation or the look of understanding they give him sparingly. Making him work to develop a sense of who they are makes him even more attracted to them rather than revealing it all or revealing nothing.

While he appreciates someone who is direct and independent, he does want someone who can let him lead most of the time.

A strong mind and someone who can go toe-to-toe with him is important. He doesn’t mind someone reining him in every so often. Someone who can keep up with his retorts and comebacks will excite him.

Also, accepting his blunt manner when speaking is important. Some of the things he says can come off as uncaring, therefore he needs someone who appreciates directness even if it can be a bit brusque. Someone who just lets it roll off puts him at ease since he won’t feel he has to change his language every time he speaks.

I won’t lie, he seems like the type to appreciate someone who cooks well. Madara comes off as a traditional man where he holds the role of the provider and protector of the household. An S/O who can be fierce yet benign in a manner that complements his powerful and sharp personality is someone he looks for.

To add, he wants someone who will allow him to protect and care for them. He won’t take well to being dismissed when he offers his advice or attempts to care for them in ways he knows how. It would be perceived as them not allowing him to show appreciation for them nor formally court them. If his S/O listens to his advice and allows him to walk them home, he sees this as someone accepting of his love.

Loyalty. Of all things this is the make it or break it piece. Madara has experienced being alone and having no one to stand by him many times in his life. An S/O who, no matter what, will be a ride-or-die (maybe not literally but it’s Madara) is what he wants the most. There will be times he is wrong. There will be times when he crosses a line. He still wants someone who wouldn’t bash him in public or hesitantly take his opponent’s side in a debate. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the middle of a battlefield or a casual dinner, do not leave his side. As you are there for him, he will be there for you without hesitation. Just try to match his devotion for you, even though he may surmount you.

Tobirama Senju

Tobirama is a bit more particular when it comes to who he’s attracted to. While Madara seeks to find someone a bit similar to him (athletic, headstrong, honest), Tobirama prefers the opposite. Warmth, gentleness, and friendliness are a few characteristics of someone he is attracted to. He has a preference for body types that aren’t common in his field, which is everything but athletic and muscular types. Tobirama seeks normalcy outside of his life as a ninja, and would most likely choose a civilian over a shinobi (Madara is more the opposite).

Tobirama’s ideal S/O carries a sense of empathy and attempt to understand others everywhere they go. He appreciates kind eyes, the kind that always seem to be upturned with a hint of happiness and humor even when they are not smiling. Eye contact is important to him, so he will need to look in their eyes and feel safe (for once). Someone who talks of others highly no matter what, who treats people with respect even if they don’t return it, and a constant presence of assurances and courtesy is important to him. With another person, he wants to have an escape from the shinobi lifestyle, even in brief moments of rest.

Ideally, they would take the time to show an interest in him and what he liked to do besides his career. He enjoys teaching children, taking stints to swim and fish, and reading various books (historical tales are his favorite). For once, he wishes to be known as a person, not as a Hokage nor shinobi. Showing interest in what he likes will build trust and eventually he will share these things with you.

Someone who is patient and calm. He hates feeling rushed, especially in emotionally-charged situations. He would be with someone who wouldn’t mind when he took a few moments before answering a question, or would be patient when he doesn’t express himself clearly. Contrary to popular belief around Konoha, he can be awkward and will close off quickly if you are too forthcoming. In all stages of the relationship from courting to marriage, Tobirama prefers for his partner to let him to come to them, not the other way around. Tolerance for his need for time will come a long way.

He’d need someone who is courteous. He does not tolerate bad hygiene or even good-enough hygiene, whether on someone or their surroundings. Tobirama will flare his nostrils if you leave cabinet doors open or put things in a different place than you found them. He truly believes that respecting yourself starts with how you treat all extensions of you, be it relationships, your home, your belongings, or your pets. If he finds you neglect basic courtesy (or really his high standard of it), he won’t give you a second glance. Be on time to dates and meetings. Don’t wear shoes in the house. Have a clean home. Chew quietly. Be at least semi-orderly. These are ways to avoid his notorious disappointed dad stare.

He gets that not everyone will have his standard of order and cleanliness. He won’t expect you to be super perfect, and he won’t mind helping you stay on track. Tobirama may not seem it but his strongest urges are to help and teach people he cherishes.

Showing that they admire and depend on him gives him the motivation to do all things. He wants someone to remind him that he is needed by at least someone, that every choice he makes someone is aware he is doing it to help and out of devotion. There are times when he feels people believe he is cold, harsh, and merciless. An S/O who can emphasize his strengths as a capable person rather than a ruthless shinobi will bring him the peace he deserves.

[allie1804-fan]

Kerensa

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

Chapter 9

The Griefcast Record

Keanu got out of the taxi at Whistledown Studios and headed in. Cariad and the recoding team greeted him and they got set up with teas, biscuits and a box of tissues on the table

“God, it’s just like a therapist’s room!” he joked

“Best to be prepared! They might be for me anyhow” she laughed.

Before we start though, can I just spend a moment being a fangirl and just say how amazing it is for me to meet you. There are so many films of yours I love – and my kids adore Duke Caboom!”

“ahh yes, Canada’s Greatest Stuntman” he boomed - “that was a fun role”

“and so perfectly cast right?”

“Yeah yeah I guess. I’m glad they picked me from the roster of Canadians they had lined up!”

“Ok, so thanks for letting me just gush for a moment! Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be!”

“First tell me the story of how we managed to get you as a guest.”

“Ok so right, so errm my friend Kerry is the link. I was filming in Cornwall this past year and uh, after we wrapped I was so charmed by the place that I decided to stay and rent a place for a couple of months down there. Kerry was my landlady and one day I came across her walking along the beach, tears streaming down her face and she was listening to your show which she highly recommended to me. I admit it took a bit of persuading to listen, given the crying thing!, but she told me it was more reassuring and uplifting than upsetting. Anyway, so sorry, this is turning into a shaggy dog tale!, so I did give it a go, really loved it

“Oh thank you”

“So then one day we were discussing an episode about baby loss, something we had in common and had talked about before and she said I should do the show. Now THAT took a lot more thought and persuasion, but she said it would do me good and there would be the angle of the man’s perspective and being someone with a public profile going through loss and you know yada, yada yada so here I am, finally!

“That’s amazing and thank you so much to Kerry for listening to the show and for your persuasive talents in getting this lovely man here today. So Keanu, as you know we always start with this question. Who are we remembering today?”

“Today we’re remembering my daughter Ava who was stillborn 23 years ago this year.”

“Ok so would you mind telling me a little bit about what happened.”

“So, ahh, it was in the spring of 1999. The Matrix had just come out and my life was pretty full on. My girlfriend Jennifer became pregnant around that time. It was unplanned and I’ll be honest, I wasn’t super happy about it at first, but she wanted to keep the baby and I said I’d support her, you know, and as time went on I was more excited than worried about becoming a dad.”

“And how was the pregnancy? How far along was Jennifer when Ava died?”

“Everything seemed fine, she, Ava was growing and developing normally. Jen was healthy. Then I was away filming, a god awful project as well! And, Um, ahh, give me a minute” Keanu cleared his throat and took a drink of water.

“I swore I wouldn’t do this” he said gesturing at himself tearing up, his voice cracking slightly “but sometimes, the memories can be, uhhh, very powerful, very vivid”

“Yes you can be taken right back like it just happened can’t you, however long ago - you know I’m 20 plus years out now and still very occasionally I can be catapulted back there. So, everything looked good but you were away, filming - and I’m sure it can’t have been an awful film”

Keanu snorted

“I assure you it was!, yes anyway, Jen went for a last check up at a little over 8 months and uh, there was no heartbeat. Ava had died and so I flew home and she had to, you know, give birth in a maternity unit, hearing all the other babies being born - I mean they have to do it there because you still might need, you know, that expertise and they tried to keep us private but those places they get busy and she had to go through all that with those sounds sometimes breaking through”

“Yes I hear that that is a common experience here in the UK too and one that SANDS, the still birth charity is trying to address. It’s interesting your choice of words: “she went through that”, presumably you were there so didn’t you go through it too?”

“Yeah, yeah - I guess, I just meant that it was worse, more traumatic mentally for her and obviously physically too”

“Sure sure, but awful for both of you nonetheless”

“Indeed, it was” Keanu paused a moment as though something important had just occurred to him “and she was beautiful too you know”

“awwwww” Cariad moaned sympathetically

“she was beautiful, perfect and warm, just silent, still”

Keanu looked up at Cariad, his eyes filled with tears once more and they both just sat for a moment, taking in the pain of his loss. Eventually, Cariad started the conversation again.

“And did you both hold her? Did the hospital staff help you, you know, to say goodbye to her?”

Yeah yeah, we did hold her. They left us be for a good amount of time, they took prints of her hands and feet and a photograph. You know they were supportive in that way, especially as we knew already, you know, that she had died, they were prepared. I don’t think we were, I mean I don’t think you can prepare for that, right? Your brain won’t let you, not really.”

“Yeah yeah, we talk about that a lot on the show, there are people who say it’s better when someone dies of an illness so you know it’s coming whereas with a sudden death you suffer more shock but I still think there’s a degree of shock you experience even when you have some warning.

“Yeah yeah and it’s so stupid, we’re all just so dumb because death is coming man, to us all but we just don’t want to think about it!” He chuckled

“So are you someone who thinks about death a lot?”

“Yeah yeah it’s always there in the back of my mind, spurring me on to do things, make that film, write that script, build that bike!”

“And do you think that’s because of losing Ava?”

“I don’t know, no not really, well maybe a little but that’s come more with getting older I think - I didn’t really have that reaction at the time”

“So what was your reaction, how did you grieve for Ava?”

Another chuckle came from Keanu.

“A more appropriate question might be how didn’t I grieve for her, at the time I mean!”

“Oh?”

“Hee hee you’re like a therapist, leaving the gaps for me to fill!”

“Some of my critics say I interrupt too much and start talking about me so…..”

“We’ll that’s not very nice is it? And also not true!”

“Thanks - Comes with the territory I guess, so please, go on, fill the gap”

“What was the question again?”

“It was about how you did or didn’t grieve for Ava after her birth?”

“Mmmm well we buried her, in the new year, she was born on Christmas Eve, which is uhhh, another tricky thing about it”

“Oh that’s awful, death on high days and holidays just adds another layer right?”

“Yeah yeah. They do - so um after that I went to Georgia to shoot a movie!”

“So you threw yourself into work then?”

“Yup, my trusty friend in times of crisis. In fact I did, let me see, 1, 2, 3, yes 3 movies in the next year and then started training for the Matrix 2 and 3 so I guess the answer is I put my feelings in a tightly locked metaphorical box and didn’t open it for quite some time!”

“And was there intrusion from the press , I guess this is pre the days of the internet being so developed and social media but how was that side of it?”

“Yeah there was some, you know photographers with long lenses at the cemetery”

“God! I can’t imagine”

“Yeah pretty low, right but in a way because of the taboo of stillbirth, people, you know interviewers and stuff, didn’t ask me about it. I mean I would sometimes say “no personal questions” but at other times that hasn’t stopped people.”

“Oh like what?”

“I’m thinking of when River, River Phoenix died, even if I said I wouldn’t answer anything personal they would still ask how I felt, did I miss him. I mean, fuck! Oh sorry I can swear right?”

“Swear away, sure, and god, fuck yeah, that deserved it. I mean obviously that’s a bit of a contradiction coming from me given we’re here and I’m making you talk about private things but”

“But I agreed, that’s the deal here, it’s not the deal to segue from “how was it jumping onto a moving bus to “how do you feel about your best friend dying!”

“Absolutely. So you said you dealt with it, but much later? What about Jennifer, how did she cope?”

“Umm, I don’t know - I mean what’s normal in that situation? She cried, she wailed like a wounded animal. Her mum moved in. I was away and not there to support her like I should have been. We weren’t really a couple either by then. We were going to co-parent but not as a romantic couple you know so it was complicated. To be honest I think a little bit of her died right then - and then she died herself the following April so you know, what you see before you is the last man standing of that family unit that might have been.”

“Woo that’s tough. You’ve really been through the mill as it were.”

“Yeah, yeah but you know I AM still standing. I’m lucky.”

“And how did Jennifer die?”

“Car wreck”

“I’m so sorry”

“Thanks, me too”

“So how is that, being the only one left? Some people talk about losing key people as losing their witness.”

“Yes! That’s it, exactly. Now it’s just me here to remember Ava, to remember her coming in and out of this world”

Yeah yeah that’s hard. So you said you dealt with it later? How did that come about?”

“Midlife crisis I guess - when I turned 40, I had a bit of a meltdown, you know, wondering about my goals, what I had or hadn’t achieved. I basically “ran away” alone to Paris on my 40th birthday, to escape any awful surprise party! And you know, I quietly fell apart in a vat of wine! When I went home my friend Janey was just like “Keanu, it’s time, time for therapy!”

“Ahhh it’s great isn’t it, big fans of that on the show!”

“Yeah I guess, I mean, ahhh I wasn’t that comfortable taking the lid off but yeah it did me a favour and helped sort my shit out. And a lot of the guilt and pain of losing Ava was gone through belatedly during that process”

“And why did you feel guilty?”

“Mmmm well I think I started to think I was a curse - my sister had been sick with leukemia, Ava had died, Jen had died, River, others as well and I felt guilty for that stupid film I was working on when it happened! So yeah, there were lots of rocks to lift up, inspect what lay beneath and deal with my emotions.”

“Well you seem like you have your shit sorted now”

“I’m a work in progress!”

“So now you’re, 23 years on, how do you remember Ava and Jen now.”

“Well it’s hard to forget the day for Ava what with it being Christmas Eve. I sometimes visit their graves - after dark if I can to avoid being hounded”

“What has the world come to when a person can’t be left in peace to visit a loved one’s resting place”

“Yeah it’s fucked up right?”

“Precisely.”

“And what else? , well I do have one little thing that my friend Alex who’s an artist, made for me. It was because of something she said she did to remember her lost loved ones. She would get a Christmas ornament that in some way represented the person and hang it on her tree at Christmas. So she made this beautiful little stained glass bird to hang up on my tree or in the house if I don’t have a tree which sometimes happens. So, uh, Ava’s name in Latin would mean bird or bird like so that’s why she did that, yes so I always think of her then and you know I would think about where she would be at a given point like when my friends kids have started school again after summer break I would think “oh Ava would be starting you know kindergarten or elementary school etc.”

“And do your family share in that?”

“Yeah, yeah - especially my mom. She has no grandchildren so yeah she remembers and we’ll have a moment sometimes yeah but it can be lonely, not having the other parent there who shares the same loss.”

“Yes I’m sure it is. Grief can be very lonely sometimes. Well, Keanu I really can’t thank you enough for coming on my little podcast and sharing your experience of baby loss and loss in the public spotlight with us today. Thank you so much for telling us about your beautiful baby girl Ava and her mum Jen.”

“Thanks for having me - I know this might sound weird, but it’s been a pleasure talking with you and remembering them today so, thank you and thanks to Kerry who suggested it. She said it would be good for my soul and she, as always, was right!”

@fortheloveoffanfic @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @toomanystoriessolittletime @ladyreapermc @paperplanesandwallflowers @patric9

[justjessame]

Glorious, Before the Burden - The Light ~ 12

“-and then -” meant Loki fully intended to put me through my paces - over and over, until I once again collapsed into my chair for the next meal. Forced to sip and NOT gulp down the goblet he filled for me, reminding myself that I wasn’t a common wench after all, even as I wondered if cutting all my hair off at my scalp wouldn’t make it more bearable if I were to become a dagger wielding maniac.

“Don’t cut your hair,” he murmured, taking a drink from his own cup. My eyes flashed to his face and his shook his head. “You aren’t on task to become a member of my brother’s Warriors, Sigyn, the lessons are far more difficult than what you’ll be dealt with normally.”

“Then why -” I sighed, wishing I could strip to my undergarments, or something less heavy than this damn gown I had to wear. Anything that would give me less pain and suffering during my forced tutoring in the combative arts that Loki was insistent upon teaching me.

His soft laughter told me he was reading me like a book again. “I won’t stop you if you want to lose a few layers,” I couldn’t hold back my eye roll. “It might make the lessons more entertaining for both of us.”

I’d finally had my fill of drink, so putting down my cup, I studied him. “I was under the impression that you enjoy putting me through this -” what would be the best word for it, “rhythmless dance. You always have a smirk on your face, my prince.”

“Do I?” Loki was finding the offerings of our meal quite fascinating. “How strange,” light blue gaze flicking back to me, I swore they were twinkling with mirth. “I’ve been so focused on making certain you don’t end up filleted by an unexpected attacker that I haven’t noticed.”

“How altruistic of you, my prince.” Taking a bite out of my own food, I had to admit, it tasted far better after the exercise and I must have made an appreciative sound because his jaw clenched again.

Loki ran me through the dance patterns that included sharp objects until the light of day started dipping below the horizon. I refused to plead with him for a break or an end, knowing now that he expected it of me - I went until he said we were finished for the day.

“So soon?” I was panting, my hair was damp from the fruits of my labor, and my face was flushed and hot. He, on the contrary, looked as if he had only just begun. It wasn’t fair, or was it? Since he’d been taught the same tactics since he was a child.

Smiling at the cobbles that made up the balcony, Loki shook his head. “Your mouth will get you in far more trouble than any other part of you,” his smile held, as his head rose to look into my face. “I would have laid odds on -” A huff of breath and a harsh chuckle, but he didn’t finish - I wanted to know what he would have bet on being more the cause of my troubles.

“What?” My head tilted, biting my lip, I waited for him to tell me.

“I should take you back to your rooms, so you can sneak out to the gardens, where I’ll be waiting -” another sigh. “We have a routine to uphold.”

“I promised I wouldn’t,” I reminded him, chagrined that he didn’t trust my word. “You asked and I gave my word.” Our gazes were locked and I sighed. “You don’t trust me.”

“You weren’t supposed to -” I stopped him with a raised hand.

“You said that once I knew how to handle myself with one of these,” holding up one of the knives we’d been training with I shook it. “I could go ANYWHERE ALONE.” He opened his mouth to argue, but I stopped him. “Trust goes both ways, Loki. You told me one thing, and then you showed up and -” I stopped, shaking my head. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t plan on going to the gardens alone - if I want to go, I’ll ask you to accompany me, or -” I stopped. “How DO you know that I’m going there?”

The look on his face showed an expression of a person who had hoped that I wouldn’t hone in on that one question. “Sigyn,” he took a deep breath and appeared to be trying to find the right words - silver tongue failing him for once. “I told you that when you wanted me to leave -”

“Yes, that’s when you were in the garden and so was I, but HOW did you know to come in the first place, Loki?” How, unless he’d been watching me all these years?

“You have to understand,” I wanted to, it’s why I asked. “It’s not something I asked for - or something I -” He stopped again, taking another deep breath. “The first time you came here, with your parents?” Frigga had said - I shut my eyes and it came back to me -

“I wasn’t the only member of my family who noticed your glow, Sigyn.”

“She was talking about you,” it came out hushed, before he could say anything else. My eyes opened and he was staring at me trying to gauge my reaction, and I hoped he could because I was having trouble with it. “Frigga said I glowed.”

Loki nodded, licking his lips. “You still do, even when I’m nowhere near you.” He was keeping his distance, which I was thankful for, at least for the moment. “I can be here, in my rooms, and KNOW that you’re heading to the gardens alone. And I have to go - to be there to keep you safe.”

“I see,” I was trying to, at least. “What does this -” the air felt heavy and my gown weighed too much. “Am I missing anything else?”

He stared at me and I thought that he might want to say something, but he shook his head. “No, nothing else.” Liar, I thought, but it would come in time. “Let me walk you back to your rooms?”

 Loki tucked my hand into his arm, reverting back to his charming self, and matched my pace as he walked me back to my rooms. We didn’t speak, lost in our own thoughts, my mind circling this new information - I hadn’t really considered which member of Frigga’s family she’d spoke of when she mentioned my first visit, perhaps Odin if I had put thought to it - but knowing she’d meant Loki left me confused by so much. Arriving too soon, I wasn’t ready for the day to be over, but I wasn’t sure how to draw it out without insisting on a visit to the gardens and after - I couldn’t.

“Our trip to Midgard -” latching onto the first topic that came to mind, I grasped it with both mental hands. His brow furrowed as he waited for me to ask whatever was the cause for my outburst. “Are we to pack for it, or will we be -”

Loki’s countenance cleared, and his smile returned. “Ah, yes.” Following me into my rooms, my wish for prolonging our day grew closer to coming true. “Pack lightly,” I watched as he settled in the window seat, which he claimed for his own. “Only those things which bring you serenity or security -” squinting at him in uncertainty, he chuckled. “Jewelry that has sentimental value, a favorite book -” ah, the dawning of understanding came over me. “We can grow our wardrobe upon arrival.”

“Is that wise?” I wasn’t challenging him, I was simply curious. Sitting upon my bed, I listened as he explained how often Midgardians changed their fashions, and how dependent it was also upon where we chose to journey and tour. “So we’ll arrive and then change our garment to suit our surroundings.” A curt nod showing I was catching on and his smirk gave me heart that I wasn’t a complete idiot. “And what will we do while we’re there?”

“Midgard has plenty of diversions, Sigyn,” his smile hinted at nostalgia for past visits. “And they constantly add to them.”

“Such as?” I wanted an idea of what to expect.

Loki sighed, but it didn’t sound like it came from a place of irritation. “If I tell you, then I’ll be robbed of your surprise when you see the sights for the first time.” Like a child who would be refused his favorite toy or trick, I had to smile. “Let me have that much, please?”

“You don’t trust my word, my prince,” I reminded him, eyes meeting the floor. “If I agree, you’ll only think that I do so to appease you for now - and expect -” I didn’t expect that cool, long finger of his to tip my chin up again, to force my face up to his. “You moved,” I accused.

“I did,” he agreed, not the least bit ashamed. “I want to trust you,” the sincerity was heavy in his words. “I do, but you have a propensity for doing what you want.”

“I won’t,” I promised, maintaining eye contact and instilling my words with the same genuine honesty that his held. “Not if you don’t wish me to, Loki.”

“You give me a great deal of power with that promise, Sigyn.” His thumb was tracing my lower lip again, the air went out of the room and everything was still and silent. “I hope I deserve it.”

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Tumblr tag || Also on AO3.

Chapter 35: Sasha

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Jon asks anxiously.

“I’m fine, Jon,” Sasha says for what feels like the tenth time in the last three minutes. “Phone’s fully charged, so is my laptop. The trapdoor is unlocked and I can get there from my desk in fifteen seconds flat, I’ve timed it. And if all else fails”—she waves her tape recorder at him—“I’ve got this, so there will at least be a record of whatever happens to me.”

Jon frowns. “That’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” Sasha sighs.

It’s not that she doesn’t appreciate that her boss has her best interests at heart. She does. And they’re all friends, and that helps too. But Jon’s paranoia has been back in full force since his encounter with Nikola Orsinov. Tim and Martin are fairly good at tempering it, from what she’s noticed, but he still jumps at small noises and insists they stay together in pairs whenever possible. She doesn’t blame him, especially after they tell the Primes what happened and Jon Prime nearly has a panic attack before he manages to pull himself together. The situation feels like it’s balanced on the edge of a razor blade separating a lake of fire on one side and a bottomless pit on the other—like their choices are to maintain the balance and risk bleeding out before they can get to the other side, or fall to one side or the other and trust in a rescue.

Sasha can admit, if only to herself, that she’s curious about what a lake of fire might feel like to swim in, or if a bottomless hole is truly bottomless, but she’s not going to doom the whole world just to see what happens if she does.

“Jon. It’s okay,” she repeats. “It’s ten in the morning. The building is full of people. I’ll be as safe as I can be. Besides, someone’s got to be here in case someone wants to see what we do in the basement or Elias decides to stop lurking in the shadows and come down to cause havoc. You three have had this planned for weeks.” Raising her voice a little, she adds, “And someone’s got to stop Tim from attempting to fistfight the waxworks because he thinks they’re going to attack.”

“Shut up, Sasha,” Tim calls from the other side of the Archives, where he’s reshelving his files.

Jon smiles, if a bit reluctantly. “And we do both need to be there, if he’s serious about…all right. Just promise you’ll be careful.”

“Cross my heart.” Sasha returns the smile. “You three be careful, too. If I hear about any of you on the twelve o’clock news, I’ll—”

“Disavow any knowledge of us and refuse our phone calls from jail?” Martin supplies as he returns from wherever he’s been and picks up his jacket.

Sasha snorts. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m going to milk my association with you for all it’s worth. Can you imagine how much the media would pay for an exclusive interview with a close friend of the Waxwork Assassins?”

Jon’s laugh sounds a little unwilling, but from the slight easing in the tension in his shoulders, Sasha guesses she hit the right note. She can’t make him smile as easily as Martin or Tim can, but every once in a while she manages it.

“Don’t work too hard,” Tim says, clapping her on the shoulder as he passes.

“I intend to break out the champagne as soon as you leave,” Sasha shoots back. “Go. Have fun. Try not to punch anything.”

“See you tomorrow, Sasha,” Martin says.

Sasha walks them to the door of the Archives and waves as they set off, Tim on one side and Martin on the other. It’s one of those arbitrary Saturdays Elias has once a quarter where he declares the Institute open to anyone, not just academics, which means they’re all supposed to be in until noon. He always declares them less than a week in advance, though, and Sasha’s fellow team members have already made plans to spend a few hours at Madame Tussauds; partly it’s that they want to see if they can figure out what the Not-Sasha was doing there in the Primes’ time, partly it’s that none of them ever really go off and do anything fun outside their house and they frankly deserve it. Sasha also knows that Tim is going to practice what he’s been learning, about targeting his vision. She’s not sure if that’s knowledge granted to her by the Eye or if she just knows Tim well enough to have figured it out; either way, she wonders if Jon and Martin are aware of it and if she should have warned them. Then she recalls Jon’s half-finished sentence and mentally kicks herself. Of course Jon and Martin are aware of what Tim’s planning. He’s trying to be better about communicating—they all are—so of course he would have told them, probably when he booked their tickets for today. He probably just forgot she hadn’t been part of the conversation.

She heads back to her desk and tells herself not to worry. They’ll be fine.

Settling in at her computer, she goes back to the research she’s doing on this current statement. Martin’s new cross-indexing system pulled up several potential matches, and she’s digging to see if any of it pans out. (Although, considering the nature of the statement, maybe she shouldn’t use phrases like that.) It’s definitely a Flesh statement; unlike the others, which can be more subtle, the Flesh is blatantly obvious when it turns up.

After a few minutes, though, she gives up. She does not have the stomach for this, not today. Instead, she clicks through a few layers of security until she’s in her private, hidden part of her laptop and her private research project. She’s got a few notes to dictate, and she doesn’t like taking work home with her, so she scoops up her laptop and the new tape recorder that matches her nails and retreats to the depths of Document Storage. They prefer doing their unofficial tapes…not on the main floor. It makes them feel a little better, she supposes.

It’s Martin who carved out the space in the boxes, carefully shuffling them around until there’s a little niche just wide enough for a comfortable chair, with an extra box missing from the layer so there’s somewhere to set drinks or notes as the case may be. It’s Tim who found the worn but sturdy armchair at a charity shop, and, surprisingly, it’s Jon who bought what is possibly the world’s tackiest slipcover, what Sasha can only class as “electric paisley”. Tim claims it looks exactly like what he sees when he looks at the shelves in the Archives, but only to Sasha and Martin; he doesn’t even joke about it in front of Jon. Sasha can’t decide if it’s sweet or something she should be concerned about.

She settles into the armchair, legs folded into the lotus position beneath her, and sets her laptop on the note box, then clicks on her tape recorder.

“Research of Sasha James, Archival assistant at the Magnus Institute, regarding the heads of the Institute, past and present,” she says. “Recorded eleventh February, 2017. Notes on Director Thomas Fitzwalter, fourth Head of the Institute, tenure 1940 to 1941.”

At least she doesn’t have a lot of people to look into. In some ways, her self-appointed task is easier than Tim’s or Martin’s, just because the scope is so much tighter. In other ways, of course, it’s harder. Tim only needs to work with himself, and Martin’s index is entirely self-contained within the Archives and their ongoing research. Sasha may only have a total of seven people to actually look into, but they’re hard to pin down. Partly it’s their age; records that predate digital record-keeping are trickier to search, as she has to hope they’ve been indexed online or find a library that might have the resources she needs. Partly it’s the fact that, well, they’re men who were only nominally themselves and were actually Jonah Magnus. Naturally he wouldn’t want people looking too closely at them.

But she’s struck, as she describes the details she’s been able to pull up about the man who had the shortest tenure as Institute Head due to what was either a poorly-timed or well-timed German bomb, by just how unremarkable all of the people she’s looked into were. None of them were standouts in their field, students from prestigious universities, or the scions of powerful families—which has to be a first in academia. She’s working her way backwards, so maybe she’ll find something different with the two men between Jonah Magnus and Thomas Fitzwalter, but so far, not a single one of them has been remotely distinguished, and in any other institute it would be a shock for them to ascend to head it up. Especially so quickly.

“I’m kind of curious as to why the Eye didn’t warn Fitzwalter about the attack in time to get under cover,” she muses. “I’m still doing research into him, so it’s possible he just wasn’t very likable or intelligent, but—”

“Hello?”

“Shit,” Sasha hisses. It’s not one of her boys—or Elias, which is a plus—but that means it’s someone she needs to deal with. “End recording.”

She snaps off the tape, pockets the recorder, closes her laptop, and hastens out to the main Archives with a smile plastered on her face. It falters when she sees who’s standing there—none other than P.C. Basira Hussain, arms folded tightly across her chest. Sasha is ready to get defensive, but then she takes a closer look at her face. She looks…grim is one word for it. Haunted is another. Gutted might come closest.

“Officer Hussain?” she says cautiously.

Basira makes a good effort at glaring at her, but it’s not particularly intimidating. “Was looking for J—Sims.”

“He’s out today,” Sasha answers. “It’s just me, I’m afraid. Can I help you?”

Basira makes a noncommittal noise. “That happen often? Them leaving you to hold down the fort on your own?”

“No, usually there are at least two of us around at all times, especially these days. But we’re also not usually here on Saturdays,” Sasha says. “Open house. Director Bouchard”—she says his name in the clipped, precise, tight-lipped manner of a woman in a male-dominated industry speaking of a superior who would like to keep it that way—“scheduled it somewhat last-minute, and the others already had plans for the afternoon.”

“And they made you stay, did they? Typical men.”

“Actually, I offered. I’ve taken more days off in the last year than all three of them put together, not counting when Martin was out on medical leave after his stint as a colander.”

Basira almost smiles. Sasha sets her laptop on her desk and comes closer. “Okay, I’ve got to ask—is this a professional visit or a personal one? Not like that,” she adds quickly when Basira stiffens. “I know you’re not—Jon doesn’t seem like your type. I just meant—are you here as a cop or…?”

“No, it’s…” Basira sighs heavily. “Just needed to talk to him, I guess. I called yesterday and—”

Sasha remembers now. Jon came out of his office and had Martin pull up all the cases they’ve come across involving the name Maxwell Rayner. “Yeah, I—he mentioned that.”

“He did,” Basira says flatly.

Shit, they’re not supposed to know Basira is feeding him those tapes…but then Sasha thinks, to hell with it. “Yeah. It’s hard to keep secrets around here, you know? Turns out we’re all developing spooky supernatural powers, and mine is that sometimes I know things without knowing how I know them. I mean, sometimes I can Know things on purpose, but mostly it’s just passing by someone and accidentally plucking a secret out of their brain without meaning to. Let me tell you, I did not need to know that the man behind the counter at my favorite coffee shop has a foot fetish.”

“I dunno, that might be useful in the summer if you’re the type to wear sandals.” Basira relaxes, just a fraction, which surprises Sasha more than a little. “What did he say?”

“Just that you’d called and asked about Maxwell Rayner. Look, have a seat, you look like you’re about to fall over. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? There’s some peppermint hot cocoa, too, if that strikes your fancy.” Sasha means it—Basira does look like she needs some fortification, and maybe to talk and get something off her chest—but if she’s being honest, she’s also burning with curiosity about what happened. She’s got to be careful about bringing that up, though. “Sorry we don’t have anything stronger, but, you know, we’re pretending to be professional.”

“Actually, that cocoa doesn’t sound too bad,” Basira mutters. She drops into Tim’s chair and leans her folded arms on his desk, staring at the surface like it holds the secrets of the universe.

Sasha hurries over to their tea station and pulls out one of the spare mugs they rarely use, along with the mug that long ago became hers. Cocoa sounds good, actually. It was grey and overcast when she came in, and she Knows without meaning to that it’s just barely warm enough that it’s raining instead of snowing, so it’s a good day for cocoa. She gives a fleeting thought to wondering if the Primes are warm enough in the stone tunnels, then goes back to making the cocoa.

“Here,” she says, handing the guest mug to Basira. “Made with water, not milk, but I mix a little bit of creamer into it. Works a treat.”

“Thanks,” Basira mutters.

As Sasha takes her seat, she notices her tape recorder sitting on her desk. It was definitely in her pocket a minute ago, and she definitely didn’t take it out, but there it is, innocuously resting next to her laptop. And, she notices, it’s running.

It’s not really a surprise, in some ways. Obviously Basira has a statement, and obviously it’s the real McCoy. It just startles Sasha that the tape recorder turned itself on…and for her. She sort of figured that only happens for Jon. It’s honestly a bit of a thrill, knowing that whatever is behind these tapes recognizes her.

She collects herself. “I take it that…whatever you were asking about Rayner for didn’t go well?”

Basira takes a long drink of her cocoa. “We lost Altman. Just…wasn’t paying attention. Don’t know what they’re going to tell his family. Guess it could have been worse, though, if I hadn’t talked to your boss first, so…tell him I said thanks.”

Sasha reaches over and squeezes Basira’s free hand as comfortingly as she can. Surprisingly, Basira grips it back. “Do you want to talk about it? I mean…I know you’re probably bound by all kinds of confidential agreements and all that, but you can ask any of the others, I’m really good at keeping secrets. We’re trying not to keep secrets from each other, but if you tell me not to say anything to them, I won’t. Just between you and me and whatever’s at the other end of the tape recorder that I absolutely did not turn on myself, by the way. Did you?”

Basira stares at it. “Fuck. Didn’t even notice it was on.” She takes a deep breath. “You know, I—I think I do want to talk about it. Don’t even care if you tell the others, or play them the tape or whatever, just…I need to talk to someone, I think. And with all those Section Thirty-One forms, this is probably the only place I can talk about it. Sure the only place I can talk about it and not feel crazy.”

Sasha nods. “Be glad you didn’t come in a year, year and a half ago. Jon’s skeptic act was legendary.”

“I’ll bet. He looks like a skeptic who got thrown in the deep end.” Basira makes an attempt at a smile. “Where do you want me to start?”

“As the King of Hearts said to the White Rabbit, ‘Begin at the beginning, and go on until you reach the end: then stop.’”

“Alice in Wonderland. Fitting. That’s about what it felt like.” Basira sets down the mug on the table. “Well then. I guess the beginning is with the disappearance of Callum Brodie.”

Sasha keeps her eyes on Basira’s face as she describes the events at the Outer Bay Shipping industrial complex in Harringay. There’s just a little bit of static in her ears as she listens, but mostly it’s just Basira’s voice and the story she’s telling. It is…objectively terrifying, to be honest. Sasha’s always been just a little bit afraid of the dark, or at least of what might be hiding in the dark, and although she never says anything to the others, the Dark statements get to her. She’s never heard one live, though. Never sat with someone and felt their terror coursing through the loop of the shared space between them as they describe coming face to face with one of the two entities Sasha is willing to admit she genuinely fears (the other, obviously, being the Stranger, and she’s still not sure if that’s because of what it did to her Prime counterpart or because of what it did to Tim or just because it’s the natural enemy of the entity she’s bound to). It’s compelling, and the air seems charged with something, but she can’t say what.

“I think they were connected to that cult group from way back, the Church of the Divine whatever,” Basira says at last. She sounds drained.

“The People’s Church of the Divine Host,” Sasha supplies. “Rayner was their leader back in the nineties. We’ve had—God, how many statements about them? I can probably pull them for you if you want.”

“I don’t,” Basira says firmly. “Not even a little. I’ve been thinking a lot over the last few days, and…I’m done. With the police, with Section Thirty-One, all of it. Was going to tell Jon in person, but if he’s not here, this is the best I can do. Anyway, you all have my statement. I felt like I owed it to you.”

Sasha tilts her head to one side. “You’re really quitting?”

“Yeah. And you should, too. All of you. This place…it’s not right.”

Sasha can’t help the soft snort of laughter. “No kidding. I can’t, though.”

Basira raises an eyebrow. “Have to see it through? Or is it loyalty to your coworkers?”

She sounds bitter—like she’s talking from personal experience. Sasha wants to probe at that, but throttles it back. First of all, Basira is a lot pricklier than the rest of Team Archives, she won’t respond to her the same way. And second of all, she is actively trying to be less of an arse about that sort of thing. Instead, she decides for complete honesty. “No, it’s the sort of thing you’re done with. I’m being literal when I say I can’t quit. We’re bound to the Institute—to the Archives. If any of us try to leave, we’ll die.”

“I’ll keep that in mind if I ever get offered a job here,” Basira says dryly. She squeezes Sasha’s hand—it’s only then Sasha realizes they’ve maintained that physical contact throughout the entirety of her statement—then stands up. “Tell Jon I said to stay safe.”

Sasha stands, too, and watches her head to the door. Before she gets there, though, she calls out, “Basira.”

Basira stops and looks back over her shoulder. “What?”

Sasha should ask about the tapes—Jon’s going to want to know, they all want to know, and if Basira quits the force they might have to ask Daisy to bring them and nobody wants that—but what comes out of her mouth is, “Keep a light on for a while. It—I don’t want it to come after you, too.”

Basira studies her for a moment, then gives a small half-smile. “I will. Thanks, Sasha.” With that, she leaves the Archives.

Click! The tape recorder shuts itself off. Sasha stares at it for a moment, then swears. Unlike the others, she didn’t grow up functionally bilingual, so her profanity is limited to English and the smattering of dirty words she and her classmates looked up in French class, but she makes good use of them. She hits the button to rewind the tape with one hand and fishes out her phone with the other. Calling up the obnoxiously-named group chat, she hastily thumbs a message: [Let me know when you’re done.]

That done, she opens her laptop again and sets into some serious research.

Nobody ever visits the Archives on Open House days; the only people who ever come down here anyway are students doing dissertations who need firsthand accounts, especially older ones, and no self-respecting student works on a Saturday morning. So there’s no one to interrupt her as she clicks through Martin’s index, then switches her focus to the onerous task of following the twists and threads of corporate ownership. They haven’t done much research into Maxwell Rayner, either, or at least not as much as they should, so Sasha broadens her search for the name. What she comes up with nearly steals the breath from her lungs. It’s a coincidence, it has to be…

“Sasha?”

Sasha jumps, nearly flipping her laptop across the desk, and whips her head around to see Jon, Martin, and Tim coming towards her, looking worried. “Jesus, you three scared the hell out of me. What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering. We got worried,” Martin says, pointing at her phone.

Sasha looks and sees that she’s missed fifteen texts in the group chat, starting with [We’re done. What’s up?] and devolving from there into mild panic. She flushes. “Sorry. I guess I got a bit wrapped up in my research…didn’t expect you to be done so quickly. Um, how did it go?”

“Fine. Stranger-free,” Tim answers. “One of the staff members has something, though. Jon smelled the statement on her—”

“That makes it sound worse, somehow,” Jon mutters.

“—and I’m pretty sure it’s a Desolation,” Tim continues. “Hopefully she stops by at some point so we can confirm that. What are you still doing here?”

Martin looks over her shoulder at the page called up on her screen. “Max—? Basira. She called back?”

“She was here,” Sasha tells him. She points at her recorder. “The operation she was on went sideways. It’s all on there, but if you’re going to listen, I need to be somewhere else.”

“No, it’s—some other time, maybe.” Jon rubs his forehead. “Summarize for us?”

“Rayner and his…cult, or what’s left of it, kidnapped a boy named Callum Brodie about three weeks ago,” Sasha answers. “The police apparently got a tip-off as to where they’d taken him—a place up in Harringay registered to Outer Bay Shipping. They had a raid yesterday and it was pretty much entirely sectioned officers. Basira called you as soon as she realized that, and by the way, she says thank you for the tip about the lights, because it’s probably the only reason they didn’t all end up dead.” She pauses, wondering how to wrap it all into a neat package, then finally says, “Details are on the tape, but the long and the short of it is that some…really dark stuff came pouring out of Rayner’s mouth and tried to go into Callum Brodie. The officer who shot him probably stopped that from happening, and from the sound of it, the kid’s going to be okay. Rayner is dead. So are three other cult members and one officer. And Basira’s quitting the force. I get the feeling this was kind of the straw that broke the camel’s back for her.”

Jon exhales, hard. “Christ.”

Martin is still studying the screen over her shoulder. “Sasha, this is—does that say what I think it does?”

“Yep. It doesn’t look like Mr. Rayner was particularly subtle.” Sasha looks up at Martin and can see in his eyes that he’s reached the same conclusion she has. Turning to Jon and Tim, who both look confused, she elaborates, “Maxwell Rayner, and the People’s Church of the Divine Host, are associated with the Dark, right? And darkness was flowing out of him into Callum Brodie.”

Jon’s face goes ashen. “Are you saying they were trying to initiate him into their cult? To—to mark him? Christ, how old is he?”

“Twelve, but…no, not exactly. Worse.” Sasha taps one fingernail on the edge of her laptop. “I widened my search for Rayner to before the nineties, especially in conjunction with…weird stuff, and I found this buried in a site about Edmund Halley. The description tallies pretty damn closely with the description of the man in the nineties, so either it’s a family line that doesn’t use suffixes—”

“Or,” Tim says, his eyes going wide with horror, “Maxwell Rayner has been extending his life by taking over new bodies as he ages out of the old one.”

“Or,” Martin adds softly, “stealing the life force of other people. Christ, I’d think that’d be more a Terminus power, but…I guess it’s possible?”

“Darkness. Like—” Jon breaks off the rest of the sentence, but he doesn’t need to say it. They all know what he’s thinking of. Sasha just hopes Elias isn’t paying attention to them right now. “I suppose that’s something we’ll have to…run down.”

“Good idea.” Sasha closes her laptop and stands up, palming the recorder. “Let’s go do that right now.”

[frstbiitten]

cw: violence, gore, blood, death

The bathroom was a little further away than expected, she doubted anyone would notice the bloody wound on her back, too bad her black shirt would have a slit in it, she didn't want to get rid of it, at least not now. Feeling the bodies sticking against hers only made her sick to her stomach, it was an overwhelming and invasive feeling at the same time. 

She reached the bathroom almost stumbling on her way, the light was white at least, no outlandish colors for now. It was also almost inundated in silence, beyond the music coming from the dance floor, it was a relief to get out of that shapeless mass of humans. There was no one at least insight, all the toilets clean and free of any interference - that is, anyone else-. She opened one of the empty cubicles, almost all of them were empty except for just one, she pulled out enough paper to wet the pieces slightly and clean the wound, it was a very deep one, just noticing its presence caused her even more physical pain, although it was clear that it was healing normally as expected of her. After a few days, only a somewhat lumpy mark would remain.

A girl, no taller than Frost, came out of one of the cubicles, it was to be expected that there might be someone else without her knowing, she was wearing a short tight black dress with loose dark hair, perhaps the whole outfit plus heavy makeup was more expensive than Frost could imagine. Though she didn't leave after washing her hands, she observed Frost for a moment, looking at the papers wet in water and blood at the same time, she was heading for the door until she took a closer look at the wound on her back.

"Do you need help, do you want me to call an ambulance?" Her voice was somewhat soft, from the way she looked Frost could tell easily that she drank a little, but still had a low level of alcohol in her blood.

"No thanks, I'll be fine in a few hours." Frost turned around to get a better look at her, at least a stranger cared about her wellbeing, maybe this little world wasn't full of selfish people.

"Are you sure? Maybe that could get worse."

She heard only a hiss and one of the heels hit the ground very close to her, her movement had been quick but Frost had reacted sooner. She had the girl's right wrist gripped firmly by his icy hand, the knife she carried being just a few inches away from reaching her stomach. A reaction the girl never expected, she would have preferred to catch her more off guard, but Frost's senses had been on alert since Kit had assaulted her.

"I can't let you go alive." The stranger was mumbling, attacking her with her fist from her other hand, it wasn't very efficient as Frost caught her instantly.

"I have to say the same thing, but I'm more stubborn."

The girl's hand holding the knife began to rapidly cool to the point where her fingers were being stuck against each other from the cold, before she began to scream, Frost used the girl's frozen hand and inserted the tip of the knife straight into the jugular. Frost shoved the body into the cubicle behind the girl, some of the blood had run down her face as she threw the body onto the toilet. It wasn't a pleasant sight, as much as she was used to exposed bones and split open heads at this point, a corpse was always unpleasant to look at. "How fucking disgusting, eww!" And she closed the cubicle, sure someone else would find it.

Frost didn't leave the bathroom until she could wash her face from the blood of the last attack, would this night keep this level of violence? She needed to leave. Kit had mentioned that this could happen, if that girl knew about her, then more people there would be looking for her with non-peaceful goals in mind. She had to find Violet before leaving, or maybe get the hell out of here with her. Still had to get through the mass of dancing people, it was a claustrophobic experience when panic mixes with the music and the lack of air. Was anyone else looking for her? From the shadows someone was watching her, watching her face being illuminated for a few seconds thanks to the spotlights.

Found Violet and Kit, both having a drink at the bar as if nothing else had happened before, it seemed that Violet forgave her very quickly. Kit first noticed Frost's presence approaching, she didn't appear too pleased to see her again.

"Hey Frost, don't you want me to call an ambulance?" Kit took a sip of her drink, striking a relaxed pose, elbows, and back leaning against the bar, it gave her a better view of the dance floor.

"What?"

"She deserves an apology from you, too." Violet returned Violet's comment, though she was turning her back to Frost from her seat, turning around almost immediately, something didn't add up in the young woman's expression, especially in her eyes. "Hey Frost... Do you need anything?"

"I have to go."

"So soon? Didn't you want to enjoy the evening first?" Kit seemed to know more than she appeared to, as if she had already foreseen the recent attack in the bathroom. "Or are you afraid of being in the eye of the storm?"

"... What?"

Could barely hear the rest of the world accurately after Kit said that, it was as if everything had quietened down for a few moments. But she could feel herself being watched, uncomfortably watched by more than a single person. Felt the weight of a hand on the back of her neck, it was a grip that sought nothing more than control over her, and suddenly it was her hair being forcibly pulled back. Frost didn't have much time to react and couldn't avoid the blow on the back of her knees, someone was forcing her to slow down and obey under every strike on her body until she ended up on all four of her limbs. Someone was belittling her power.

Frost took advantage of her enemy's position and used her left leg to create a circular motion and throw him to the ground. She had lost sight of Violet and Kit, this guy was her priority and it was an almost minuscule moment that it took her to kill the big guy, plunging the knife she had taken from Kit earlier to insert it into her attacker's chest.

The screams and chaos after the first attack were to be expected. It was all very sudden, had a gun in front of her face and her first instinct was to freeze it before the attacker could pull the trigger, that trick seemed to always work. She ascended from the ground with a blow from her fist directly towards the lower part of the man's jaw -he wasn't as big as the previous one but he did pass her in height-, she couldn't land a second blow, as another man had grabbed her waist from behind and pushed her to the bar, almost crashing into the chairs.

She was confused, but it was obvious that trusting Kit was no longer viable. Felt a hand trying to help her to get up, it was Violet, she hadn't left there like the rest of the other people were doing, like the ones that were left only wanted to watch the fight, or they were the ones coming for Frost.

"Get up... Get up Frost, you have to go, there's like 15 guys here wanting to kill you." Violet let Frost's arm rest on her shoulders, where was Kit? Well right next to them, she didn't know what look to give her back at Frost, but she didn't seem to have any intentions of helping her.

"No... I can't leave.... They're going to follow me anywhere, or they could hurt you if they wanted to." She had mentioned 15 men in total? 17 if you counted the girl in the bathroom and the dead guy on the floor. The DJ wasn't about to leave his place either, as he had changed the music to a much louder one, it helped set the mood, beyond how surreal it was, also some artificial smoke flooded the dance floor, was it to hurt her or benefit her?

She still had the knife in her hand, needed to be smart when using it, maybe they would come one at a time, she doubted they would want to kill her between them all. Took a few steps forward once she was able to compose herself, was already in plain sight amidst a fog and dancing lights.

"Did you guys come for me? Because you're only wasting my time."

Frost didn't have to wait too long to get a reaction from these men, clearly, they were determined to die for a sum of money, she was ignorant of what it would be and who might have put a bounty on her head. It wasn't easy, as some were armed or more experienced, they managed to hit her with their fists or some short weapon, although she also knew how to defend herself. It was also clear that the most desperate ones went for her first, it was easy to unbalance them with kicks, punches, and cuts. She felt the adrenaline rise and fill her skull, as well as her skin became colder and colder, the feeling of vertigo and of letting herself be carried away by anger.

But she didn't make it in time, instead, one of the men took it upon himself to lift her off the ground with her body over his shoulder, as much as she could stab his back - there was something underneath that could be a kevlar vest, which prevented her from reaching his muscles-. The man dropped Frost onto the drink bar, there were glasses and bottles, these became shattered glasses and alcohol scattered all the way to the floor, again the young woman's back was suffering the consequences. Being short was a disadvantage, as the man surpassed her in height by many inches, had leather gloves so he could withstand the cold, and grabbed Frost by her clothes to lift her and turn her around. Like a magic trick, he used the alcohol from the drinks as fuel and with a lighter turned the bar into a new method of torture, finally, he grabbed Frost's hair to slam her face into the surface of the bar, now on fire and with shattering glass.

It was her fury that stopped the man's strength, her hands rested on the edge of the surface in time to push her torso upward, between grunts and struggles, her eyes took on a whitish hue and the glow in them appeared. The fire didn't last long, a layer of ice began to spread from her fingers, extinguishing the fire instantly, she used her foot to deliver a kick in the direction of his knee and knock him off balance, knocking him to the ground but she didn't pay attention to him again, 8 more guys were waiting for their turn.

She grabbed the knife from the ground and wrapped it in ice, turning it into an even more lethal weapon than before. Frost slashed one of them in the stomach fatally enough to leave his guts all over the floor and start screaming, another was pierced through the eye and getting finished with a chunk of ice in the eyesocket as it cooled his skull, and so they kept falling one by one.

"This is... ew..." Violet was both shocked and disgusted, shocked by the scene in front of her eyes and disgusted by the blood spilled and the guts, too many for just one night.

"You should leave, it could get worse." Kit lightly pushed Violet in the direction of the door they had previously entered through, the last thing she wanted was to be involved in the situation, let alone afterward, she was planning on finishing her task however she could. "Besides, look at her, this only proves my point: Frost isn't like you, me or anyone else, sooner or later she could hurt someone innocent, she's not human either, have you ever seen a human do that?" Kit pointed at Frost who seemed to be winning the fight, her eyes perfectly reflected the anger that was driving her to keep fighting, using the ice that gushed from her hands to incapacitate and kill, the scene was getting harder to watch with every blow. "And if she doesn't at least kill us, those around her could die, you saw what happened to Jasper... it's not safe to be around her."

 Violet preferred not to connect one event to another, Jasper's death was a mistake at the end of the day, and could do nothing to stop such, Jasper never saw Frost as someone who would hurt those who tried to help her. Jasper would say that Frost seemed more like someone who had lost her way than someone who could be violent for no apparent reason. To this day, Violet didn't know if it was beneficial to help her, nor how to help her. They didn't hear the man who had fought Frost against the bar getting back on his feet, overheard the previous conversation and had no intention of sharing the money, Kit included. With a surprisingly skillful move, he grabbed Kit from behind, wrapping his arm around her neck, making a headlock to leave her immobilized. 

"Shit shit shit!" Violet tried to help Kit free herself from the man, only to be pushed away by Kit herself, not wanting to put her in danger, somehow managing to articulate the word 'go away' as she struggled to stop the man from choking her.

From a distance, Frost had noticed that the big guy hadn't fainted as she had assumed, before killing the last man, she performed a quick maneuver, never done it before from such a distance. From her fingertips, ice crystals detached like razor blades, threw them intending to kill the man who was trying to choke Kit. Frost heard the ice shards embedding into the skin and reaching up to the skull and neck, and with a final blow, she shattered the eye of the last opponent, letting him fall to the ground along with the others.

The adrenaline rush had worn off once she managed to relax, the knife slipped from her hand and fell to the ground, again staining the blade with blood as the ice melted. She was exhausted after such a fight,  never fought so many people at the same time on the same day. Gasped as she tried to relax her muscles, trying to get back to her normal self. 

She started to hear a cry from behind her, Frost turned around to get a better look at what had happened. Violet was on the floor, sitting on her knees and legs, in her lap she had half of Kit's body on her, it looked like she was trying to take something from her. As she got closer she could see in detail what had happened. It was a fatal aiming error on her part, yes she had managed to kill the man who had assaulted them both, but Kit was also affected. 3 of the 5 crystals she had thrown had impacted her body too, one of her eyes was gone and there was nothing but a piece of ice emerging from the eye socket, another embedded in her forehead, and the third -or first- in her throat. The blood wasn't gushing evenly, it was clotting and freezing right away, the face alone was becoming misshapen and taking on a bluish hue. 

"I... I'm so sorry Violet..." Her hands were stained with blood, she wished she could reach out to touch her shoulder or take her away, she didn't know which way to act.

"Go away." 

"What?"

"Please leave." It was the first time she had ever heard Violet speak that sternly, her eyes full of tears, her voice cracking and even sounding like she was going to attack her at any moment. "...they're coming for you.... you have to go..."

"I'm sorry..."

"PLEASE GO AWAY!"

Didn't have to think about it much, Violet no longer saw her as before, for Frost, she wouldn't know how to solve it in the future, she had to follow her advice to get out of there before the police arrived on the scene. Decided to take the way she had entered, then do her best to get lost in alleys and areas where she could hide for a few hours. Heard the sirens like a clap of thunder, a sound that chased her as she hid, how long was that fight? This was never in her plans, for she doubted she would ever make it home this time.

Finally hidden in the bushes of a building, there was a bridge several yards away, she could hide there too until the time she deemed safe. She heard a rustling behind her, as she turned in the direction of the sound, there was only a shadow standing, someone, but it was a familiar and unfamiliar feeling at the same time.

"Please... leave me alone." She would be cordial for now, but she wouldn't hesitate to use her force again.

Frost heard an almost imperceptible sound, like a tv being unplugged, a power failure, but it wasn't caused by an electric current or any artifact. It was out of nowhere, she felt a prick in her neck, her hand instinctively wanted to remove whatever was pricking her skin. Managed to remove a dart from her neck or so she thought, as she had never seen one, as it looked more like a yellow stain on her hand. Everything became a big dark blob as her body tried to find a way to react, her eyes paled just like her skin as she tried to stand up. The dart fell to the warm grass, looked for a way to support herself using her hands, looked at where the shadow was supposed to be, nothing but a patch darker than the night. Finally, her body decided to give up and Frost fell to the ground.

[jcmorrigan]

In Defense of Archibald Snatcher

Oh, wow, we’re coming up on almost the sixth anniversary of The Boxtrolls, my favorite film of all time, and though the fandom for it seems to be either dead or in hibernation, I still have the torch lit.

I actually have been of the mindset of the opinion/s I’m about to present here for all those six years, but never really thought it prudent to lay them out until I recently had a friend I was recommending the film to who I warned about some of the elements considered “problematic” and I offhandedly mentioned that I could do a whole essay about why they don’t bother me and said friend replied with a desire to want to hear it because we share infodump for infodump, so here we go, I’m poking the hornet’s nest surrounding a controversial film with a dead fandom.

But if you were on Tumblr back in the heyday, you might’ve seen the reaction to this film when it first debuted. Specifically, what a lot of people honed in on wa that the villain, Archibald Snatcher, employed a dragsona to be able to push his agenda and implement his evil scheme. There was outrage. There were accusations. There was lambasting. And above it all, one question hovers: was this transphobic?

I want to start, before we get into the weeds, by saying that if you are anywhere on the LGBTQ+ spectrum and you were offended by this film or this character, your experiences are completely valid. I’m about to present the counterargument in language that assumes my take is fact for the purpose of not having to write fifty thousand clunky disclaimers, but analytical as this may be, it IS an opinion, and if you don’t think it’s right, then hey, that’s super valid, and I’m not gonna try and change your mind, because if you’re hurt, then you’re hurt! You just may want to nope out of this post right now because I’m about to lay out my observations and thoughts to the contrary of the accusations of this being homo/transphobic.

First of all, the obvious facet that comes to mind is how strange it is that we only ever saw the word “transphobia” put on this phenomenon rather than “homophobia” when using a female alter ego as a disguise or a performance art is not the same as being a woman assigned male at birth. One only needs to take a look over at RuPaul’s Drag Race to see examples of this culture. Lots of gay men wearing dresses. No women perceived male.

All the same, I will say that on the surface, adding any kind of queercoding to the story’s villain, who the audience is supposed to boo and hiss at, looks really, really bad on paper. However you interpret it, Snatcher is definitely queercoded. He openly flirts with the man he’s trying to trick as a means of getting what he wants, he displays sincere enjoyment of wearing the dress, and he runs the gamut of flamboyant hand gestures. But if you dig a little further, there’s even more to the story: his tale is one of a man who desires to pass as one of the elite class in his society, but is held back by something he can’t change about himself no matter how he denies it.

Let’s look at the rest of his story. Snatcher is in pursuit of the White Hat: the ultimate status symbol. To that end, he’s decided to otherize the Boxtroll population of the town and play upon the culture shock in Cheesebridge to convince the humans of the “upper world” that the Boxtrolls are predatory monsters who must be killed. This sounds like a pretty black-and-white good-and-evil scenario, right? You’ve got your population of innocent sweethearts being attacked and your genocidal racist orchestrating their destruction. But there’s a third layer still: Lord Portley-Rind, the chief White Hat himself. Lord PR is actually the worst of the lot. It’s because he doesn’t accept Snatcher that Snatcher feels he has to resort to this tactic. He demonstrates open hatred of the Boxtrolls and of Snatcher (”I’m not sure who should be more worried: the Boxtrolls or us!”). There are implications in how he treats his daughter that he’s a textbook sexist who believes there are men’s roles and women’s roles in society and nary the twain shall cross. And he’s the rich guy controlling the entire city and letting children’s hospitals and crumbling bridges go to waste by spending the budget on frivolous cheese. In short, Lord PR is basically the ur-example of a nightmarish fictional Republican (and oh, how I WISH he hadn’t been so prophetic).

I’m not saying Snatcher was justified or good. No. He’s in no way redeemable. But over the course of his interactions with Lord PR, you can see just how much society’s elites treat him as inhuman or like a dirty buffoon. He’s looked down upon, he’s insulted even when he’s doing the “service” Lord PR desires, he’s rejected until he’s gone above and beyond his contract and I think it’s even a little bit implied that Lord PR would’ve reneged on the whole deal if the mob hadn’t cheered for Snatcher in the end. So what you have is a prim and proper billionaire who subscribes to gender roles telling a man of the lower class, obviously economically downtrodden, that he doesn’t deserve what Lord PR has.

The idea of meritocracy is woven throughout the film. Listening to the speech in the background of Snatcher’s anaphylactic attack, while the visuals are focused on Eggs rescuing Fish, you can hear Snatcher rambling about how his father told him that if you work hard, you will receive a White Hat, but he worked hard all his life and got nothing. One of the White Hats literally says he got his through being rich. It’s not hard to infer that Snatcher has figured out how broken the system is and realized the only way to win the game is to cheat.

But there’s still one more thing holding him back from his victory, something that actually trips him up when he achieves what he wanted. Cheese is presented as another status symbol: the rich eat it and are connoisseurs of its flavor. Snatcher is deathly allergic to it. The goal he’s chasing, he can’t even have without threat to his own life. His reaction is to pretend he isn’t allergic and to expose himself to having allergic reactions on the regular to show how much he’s ready to become part of the elites. I’ll reiterate: Archibald Snatcher wants to join the elites, but is held back because of something about himself he cannot change that only matters because the upper crust said it should.

Okay. So we’ve established the man is gay, or somewhere on the queer spectrum. How is this not really, really horrible?

Because the narrative invites you to feel some sympathy for him. No, not for his actions or any secret soft side or tragic backstory (that’s a job for the fans), but because he is chasing a dream he cannot attain. Perhaps the film’s biggest shortcoming is how little consequence comes to Lord PR in the end, because Lord PR, for all intents and purposes, is the worse villain on the board. Snatcher’s ploy is to take the class below the one he inhabits and paint its members as the bad guys: a nuisance that must be exterminated for the betterment of society. And we’ve seen this. We’ve seen plenty of real-life examples of have-nots turning on have-lessers because the haves benefit from oppressed groups infighting and being distracted from who holds the money and the power. A lot of times, you see that while intersectionality is definitely something we need to pay attention to, racism, sexism, and homophobia are not concepts that are all explicitly linked. If you experience one, that doesn’t mean you don’t project one or two of the others on other people - particularly if you’re trying to make yourself feel better about the discrimination you face.

When you look at the hierarchy, Snatcher is, I reiterate, a very bad person. But he’s also a victim. Not as much of a victim as the poor Boxtrolls, who get the malice trickling down from both the Red Hats and the White Hats, but he is a victim. We see him mocked, laughed at, turned away. And though he’s not redeemable, there are aspects in which he is sympathetic.

But what about Frou Frou? What about that particular disguise?

Well, for one, it’s used to make yet another allegorical statement. Snatcher is able to get attention paid to him if he weaponizes female sexuality - though it is a very shallow attention that largely results in the straight men of the town swallowing his propaganda while also objectifying him. Most of the comments made on Frou Frou are slimy, smarmy “compliments” on her body from the White Hats. Lord PR’s wife harbors a distinct distaste for Frou Frou because her husband most certainly prefers ogling Frou Frou to actually paying attention to their marriage. Frou Frou is a propaganda vehicle to make it look like more than one person is on the same page as Snatcher; Snatcher himself drives the action of his scheme and gets the dirty work done.

It’s also worth noting that if you take away the implications, villains using alter egos to trick their nemeses is a tale as old as time, from sea witch Ursula making herself more supermodel-esque in order to marry the prince to mythological Loki actually crossdressing much in the same vein in order to fool the Frost Giants. There’s a reason disguise masters and shapeshifters are intriguing villain archetypes: because we’re always a little bit afraid that someone isn’t who they say they are, and because - yeah, I’m about to go here - I think we all wish we could shift shape ourselves to take on new forms that suit the goals we’re trying to accomplish, even if that means “fooling” others. So it’s reasonable to think Laika wasn’t aware that there was any queercoding to even be had here - but I do think the crew was aware, and not in a malicious way.

However, watching Snatcher’s scenes as Frou Frou, there’s something that comes across in his character that you don’t see so often when he’s presenting male: he’s legitimately having fun. He dances, he flirts with the crowd, he adds more flourishes to his speech, he gets sassy. Frou Frou is a means for him to express himself, to allow himself to be feminine when he has built his philosophy on needing to do “what a man does” (he repeats this at least twice) in order to achieve greatness. He can be a little more himself when he’s Frou Frou, even though Frou Frou isn’t him. Taking a new identity that’s allowed the other half of the gender roles allowed in Cheesebridge (which runs on a binary because it’s run by the White Hats) lets him act a little less like what he needs to be to be taken seriously and a little more like he has freedom.

Put this back in context of the greater narrative: given all the parallels we’ve seen, it’s safe to assume that Cheesebridge, as a whole, is not accepting of deviations from gender roles, whether it’s being open and proud of your LGBTQ+ identity or simply wearing the clothes that don’t belong to your gender. Snatcher is taking an enormous gamble here by using Frou Frou at all. On one hand, it’s a calculated risk; he knows if he can appeal to Lord PR’s unchecked sexist libido, he can secure another avenue to being heard. On the other, however, it’s not really much of a leap to say this is something he wants to do, someone he wants to be more like, and isn’t allowed to, and since he’s cheating at the game anyway, he might as well go all the way and do what he wants with his life.

I’ve seen a lot of people take issue with the scene where he reveals himself to Lord PR and comparing it to some actual homophobic/transphobic media. And again, if that still stands to you as your primary analysis and emotional reaction, then feel free to turn away, reject my analysis, and know your thoughts and feelings are completely valid. But I think this scene differs from your usual “person with male parts tricked you into thinking they were a woman” scene in a couple ways.

For one, Snatcher decides to out himself on his own. To Lord PR, it’s when he’s got nothing left to lose. Again, when he realizes the game is broken and the odds are against him, he takes control and decides to be himself a little more. Now everyone knows he likes to act a dragsona because he wanted them to. But also, earlier on, when he revealed himself to Eggs, it was again on purpose. Eggs didn’t figure him out. Snatcher needed Eggs to know the level of the threat he was dealing with: that he was the person Eggs has been running from since the start and is no less dangerous in a dress. It’s always been of his own volition. There’s no “I thought you knew” or disrobing to see a body that doesn’t match expectations - Eggs ripping Snatcher’s wig off is maybe a little iffier, but again, in context, that’s him trying to show Snatcher’s identity, not as a man but as Archibald Snatcher, to expose the corruption, and Snatcher actually plays it completely off because he’s that good of an actor.

Which brings me to my second point. There’s only one person who reacts in an “Oh, gross!” manner to this revelation, and it’s Lord Portley-Rind. The one we’ve established is sexist, homophobic, and your textbook Rich White Straight Cis Man. The one at the top of the food chain. The one who’s been objectifying Snatcher and acting like a slobbering pervert about Frou Frou from the beginning. The homophobe realizes he has been a little gay. The sexist realizes his objectifying a particular person he perceived female has consequences. And this is why to me, that scene is actually hilarious. Because I don’t feel like I’m laughing at Snatcher’s expense. I’m laughing because Lord PR just got called OUT, and this is exactly the kind of discomfort that is karmic given how he’s treated his daughter, his wife, and everyone in his city who’s needed him.

Cycling back to when Snatcher outs himself at the ball, Eggs doesn’t really seem to care that there’s a gender-role-play involved here. His concern is not that this is actually a man; his concern is that it’s specifically the person who he knows is trying to ruin everything. Same with Winnie when Eggs passes it on. Eggs trying to reveal Snatcher to the crowd doesn’t even begin with “Frou Frou is fake,” but a line I will never forget: “Archibald Snatcher has lied to you all.” Not even drawing attention yet to the fact that he’s in the room. Starting out by having everyone remember that guy they are all sure ISN’T there and pointing out he’s bad news.

To look at Lord Portley-Rind’s “Oh my God! I regret so much!” as a dig at Snatcher is to say that Lord Portley-Rind is the lens through which we should be viewing this story, which it most certainly isn’t. The lens is Eggs and Winnie. Adjacent lenses are Fish, Shoe, and Jelly. Lord Portley-Rind is an antagonist to every single character in this film save the other White Hats.

Which is why if this film falls flat anywhere, it’s in letting Lord Portley-Rind get away without consequence. I think I can take a guess as to why this primarily happened: it needed to wrap up in a little under two hours, and dismantling systematic oppression and abuse of socioeconomic power can’t be done in a two-hour escapade. I still wish he were at least villainized a little more, as that’s where the narrative was leading up to that point. One of his earliest scenes with Winnie foreshadows that he will have to choose between her and the hat, and it takes him two tries to make the right choice. This story, until the very last act, has not supported him being a character to like or sympathize with, even in such subtle ways as Trout and Pickles stealing his hat and running around with it to taunt Snatcher - showing that a symbol is really only a symbol, and doesn’t indicate your worth. Anyone can put on a hat. Lord PR has just been brought onto an equal footing with them, if only for a moment.

Okay, so why have this whole three-layer narrative anyway? Couldn’t we have made this story more clear-cut between the Boxtrolls and White Hats, with no queercoded villain to get in between?

Yes...but I’m not sure that would have been best for the viewing audience. And there’s plenty of precedent as to why Laika thought it was a move for the better.

Queercoded villains are in every aspect of our fictional and fandom lives. Here’s a bitter pill to swallow: all your favorite Disney villains are queercoded. All of them. “But Frollo’s arc is about - “ Being a man in a religious system afraid of being tainted as sinful for being attracted to the wrong person. “Gaston, though, is - “ Very chummy with LeFou, and I’m talking the animated versions. They’re all colorful, flamboyant, foppish for the men and full of socially-unacceptable strength for the women. These were the cornerstones of our childhood nostalgia and characters we still feel culturally attached to.

It’s not just in Disney. Are you a fan of musical theater? Well, then your favorite villain probably got a big song and dance in which they wore some glitter. Classic lit? Google the name of your favorite literary canon villain and “queer theory” and see what happens.

I don’t think we can really say this is good or bad. On one hand, it’s not great that a marginalized group can only see themselves in the character we’re supposed to hate. On the other, though, we don’t always hate that character. Villains hold a unique place in our culture. They do bad things, horrible things, but the story can’t take place without a conflict, and we like when that conflict has a name and a cool design such as a tall, imposing sorcerer/witch in flowing robes - or perhaps a tall, graceful man in a long red coat and a towering crooked top hat.

I’ve had lots of friends and trusted Internet reviewers talking about how queercoding in villains can actually be really empowering. If you’re a fan of the villain, you get to see a power fantasy in which someone who has something very big in common with you gets to enact karma on others for wronging them! You get to wear the cool robes, sing the fun song, do things that are not really legal or acceptable! I think a great analogy is if you check out the book “Dead Blondes and Bad Mothers” by Sady Doyle. It’s primarily about sexism rather than queer issues (though it does touch upon them!), but examines how women throughout pop culture and storytelling history have always been the witch, the monster, the demon, and how that sucks, but it also means that women have a great pile of fictional power fantasies to pick from to indulge in. It’s the same principle. I myself may not be same-gender-attracted, but I am asexual, and still waiting on my glamorous villain who uproots society as revenge for being forced to do something analogous to having a sexual relationship...*taps wristwatch*

Meanwhile, queercoding is not as prevalent in heroes. And I think that’s where everything’s tripping on its own feet. Because a gay villain among a bunch of straight heroes does look pretty bad. Are some of the heroes queercoded as well, though? Well, that’s just realistic diversity. People are gay, and there happen to be some good ones and some evil ones here. I don’t think Snatcher’s dragsona is entirely unproblematic, but I do think it could have been mitigated a lot with more implications that Eggs and Winnie might be queer in some way (and believe me, I choose to interpret them that way, because the more the merrier).

The thing is that in pop culture as of late, there seems to be a trend to scrub away all villainous queercoding because it’s seen as a black-and-white issue. To go back to the Disney villains, do you feel like the live-action recreations of Jafar, Scar, and Gaston are missing a certain je ne sais quoi? Well, think about it through this lens and it might be that you savez quoi after all. They’ve all been made incredibly straight as of late, with off-the-record actor confirmations about having obsessive crushes on the film heroines. I can’t speak to why this has happened; there’s a lot of history behind any given social movement, and I haven’t managed to really unpack this one. “Blame Tumblr” is too easy; I would want to know who were the loudest voices, why they said what they said, and what was the intended accomplishment, not to mention if this had built on other social-media or real-life platforms over the years and was influenced by any outside source by news or marketing. I can’t say why queercoded villains are being burned; I can only say it’s happening. And it was happening big-time in 2014, when The Boxtrolls was released.

I also feel like I would be remiss to mention that The Boxtrolls is based on “Here Be Monsters,” which I believe to be one of the worst books I’ve ever read, bar none. That version of the story has...pretty much everything that’s perceived to be in the film version’s text as problematic. Frou Frou is presented as something to laugh at Snatcher about throughout, largely because everything about Snatcher is presented to make him seem gross or like a buffoon. There’s a whole scene of the hero rifling through his desk to find soiled underwear. Not to mention that the original purpose of Frou Frou in the text was to manipulate the town’s women by dictating the fashion trends they should follow and the beliefs they should hold in order to fit in. This is something that does need commentary on it, but in that text in particular, it seems like the women are silly and easily swayed, and that they’re the town’s weak link because they’re slaves to fashion. The Boxtrolls completely flips this around so that the town’s weak link re: Frou Frou is the rich MEN who objectify women, particularly the men that happen to be in charge of the whole town, and looking at that divide alone tells me how much care was put into this adaptation at every level.

So why’d I do this, besides having a friend who wanted to read it? Because Archibald Snatcher is legitimately one of my favorite fictional characters. Yeah, I know, he’s a horrible person and terribly racist, and no, I don’t think his demonizing an entire people is anything to be emulated. But on one hand, there are places where I not only empathize but identify with him, particularly where it comes to living out the majority of one’s life trying to live up to a meritocracy - I did everything right, so why am I not on top? He’s also just fun and satisfying to me. He’s the exact brand of evil I eat up. He’s quippy, flamboyant, sadistic to a point, and altogether enjoying his job way too much. Even though he isn’t in power all that long, he is a power fantasy for me, too - wishing I had his talent to talk my way into others’ hearts by saying the right thing, and maybe cultivating a little bit of that I didn’t realize I had (but not to use for evil purposes). I loved him from the moment he turned up because of his sheer dynamic presence - his drawn-out vowels, his sinister smile, his silver-tongued manipulations - and to this day I find him an inspiring character when it comes to writing fiction, both in the realms of fanfiction and original villain creation. You could say he’s a comfort character to me. And maybe this has been the delusional rambling of a woman trying to protect a character she likes for surface reasons by spelling out what look like analytical points of discussion.

But I don’t think Laika was trying to be mean-spirited or homo/transphobic in their character creation. I think they were trying to make an engaging villain who had some layers you could pick at to see more about the narrative as a whole and the message of societal corruption and how the way to overcome it is to be true to yourself rather than defined by your status: a lesson Snatcher fails at the finish line when Eggs gives him one last chance to “make you.” And ultimately, if you really and truly did like Archibald Snatcher, you’re not wrong or invalid in the least.

[uraichievents]

UraIchi PC4 2019 Masterlist

Here’s a list of all the works submitted for PC4! I’ve ordered them in by prompt number under each work type, and it looks like we came pretty close to finishing the whole table! Thank you to everyone who participated this year~

FANFICS

Third Eye Blind by DevinePhoenix [#02]

Long before Kisuke was blinded by Askin, his eyes had already been damaged.

Patchwork Soldier by DevinePhoenix [#02]

When they wake up, they will have to deal with what their decisions have wrought. He will have to cope with his injuries and Kisuke will have to cope with his scars and guilt. But they still have time before that morning of uncertainty. In the dusty twilight of the Soul King’s realm, they could rest together and dream of a better ending.

Death Gods by Chaos_Greymistchild [#03]

AU in which Kisuke is still a mad scientist with only slightly more morals than the rest of them, but Ichigo is a vampire/death-dealer/human hybrid, a legal executioner, and (still) the world’s most recent supernatural anomaly.

The long avaited encounter by SueGra [#04]

Kurosaki Ichigo left Karakura after he lost his power. Urahara Kisuke listened to Isshin and he broke up with Ichigo. Somebody killed the rogue shinigami and his partners. Urahara went after the person who killed them and he was surprised. Who was it?

Wrong Side of Reality by Starrie_Wolf [#06]

If there was one thing that every invader of Soul Society did wrong, it was that each and every one of them measured one's power by the strength of their reiatsu alone. And every single one of them failed, because they did not understand that to be truly powerful, one must first have the Means to ensure their plans succeed.

He, who has been watching from the shadows for a thousand years, refuses to make the same mistake.

By Invitation Only by FeelingFredly [#10]

“No weapons are allowed past this point.  Please move forward to the weapons check and place them in the tagged locker.  You will be given the code to retrieve them when you leave.”

Ichigo turned on his heel as if to follow the robot’s directive, only to stop and spin back, trench knife in one hand and katana in the other, the smooth swing of the blades separating the brassneck’s head from his body.

“I’m sorry,” he said, standing over the sparking remains, “but I refuse to make Aizen-sama’s acquaintance so underdressed.”

Kisuke snorted in his ear.  “No one is there to hear your dramatics, Kurosaki-kun.”

Ichigo kicked the head to one side, like a soccer ball. “You know that you’re the only audience I need, Kisuke."

stay with me (until the sun rises) by Fox_the_Hermit [#12]

Ichigo is friends with a great deal of supernatural entities. The one monster under every bed in town is his favourite, though.

these dreams like ashes float away by howls [#12]

Ever since Ichigo refused to leave something well enough alone, a shadow man would visit him once, or twice, a month. (What he never realized was that there was more going on in those moments than the shadow man would reveal. For now, at least. He could never refuse Ichigo for long.)

Gambit without Guarantee by Starrie_Wolf [#18]

How did everything go so wrong so quickly?

new life, same shit by Chaos_Greymistchild [#19]

Not all knowledge is gained through the Gate of Truth. Not all reincarnates are born with their memories. Ichigo’s not sure how comfortable he is with this knowledge.

Arsenic by FeelingFredly [#20]

He was poison and he'd accepted that fact. Now if only everybody else would.

Police Tricycle (or: it’s not a buddy cop if I’m the third wheel, says Rukia) by Chaos_Greymistchild [#21]

Ichigo chases Szayelaporro Gantz down the highway in a high-speed car chase with a grenade launcher cameo. That’s it. That’s the fic.

Winds of Change (Tempest) by Sky_King [#24]

When the war is over and Ichigo has won, fate will come back to get her due.

Ichigo gambled and gave everything away in exchange for power, and finally the price paid has to be claimed.

(When the war is over, Kisuke finds himself adrift, too guilty to live, too guilty to die. He carries on, fueled by that single promise, trying to find a reason for being.And when he does, he'd sooner kill the Soul King himself than let it disappear, no matter the cost.)

Whip It Good by FeelingFredly [#25]

You didn't live a life like Kisuke's without developing a few interesting preferences, but he knew they weren't for everyone, and really, his relationship with Ichigo was more than he could have ever asked for--loving and supportive in ways he still wasn't sure he deserved. It was just very vanilla. Which was fine. Really.

So why he was "just visiting" at his old BDSM club?

The very bad, terrible, no good first few days of Junior SID Agent Dokugamine Riruka by Starrie_Wolf [#27]

Sometimes, Dokugamine Riruka wishes she could go back to her 22-year-old self and tell her to choose another department, any other department, she’s got the grades to take her pick.

Berry Nice by Chaos_Greymistchild [#28]

“Can I kiss you?"

“If you don’t,” Kisuke said with remarkable control, “I think I might do something regrettable.”

“Okay.”

Calling You (Maybe) by EternalEclipse [#29]

Ichigo never answers his phone, and Kisuke always does.

building a future (and tearing down the past) by EternalEclipse [#30]

At first, Ichigo had just been an invention of Kisuke's, nothing more than a gear to be moved. A pawn. It was only natural that after the war, Kisuke left him to his own devices--they'd won, which was the best he could ask for. As it turns out, once he starts making things for Ichigo instead of just countering Aizen, it's a hard habit to break. By the end of it, he won't even want to.

Or, five times Kisuke made things with Ichigo in mind, and one time Ichigo asked him to destroy something.

Companionship (Stay with Me) by Nikolaila [#31]

People are people, even in space. Sometimes the required conversations in relationships are hard to have but necessary to hold.

Tsuki no Tsuppane by Silmariën (Starrie_Wolf), Starrie_Wolf [#32]

They have scarcely begun to unravel the complex web of Aizen no Sōsuke's treason when Kisuke is made aware of another layer to the conspiracy, one that threatens to expose all the secrets he has not yet decided if he will share with Ichigo-no-mikoto.

Few enough people are willing to accept onmyōji, but even fewer will be willing to accept that their lover is not even human.

Work/Date Balance by Starrie_Wolf [#33]

Kisuke doesn't seem to really grasp the meaning of a date, but it's okay, Ichigo loves him anyway.

“So… are you doing your usual fainting damsel imitation, or shall I take care of it?”

(Interlude during their vacation in London.)

a breath of fresh air by Fox_the_Hermit [#34]

Ichigo refuses to let Kisuke win yet another round of the "I took a cute photo of you and I'll use it to fund my experiments" game. Mostly on principle.

The world is changing by Starrie_Wolf [#35]

They’ve been doing this for so long that Kisuke has no idea how to wake up in a world where he doesn’t need to prioritise the Hōgyoku over his family.

Interlude: the day after Aizen's defeat.

Accidental Pokèmon Acquisition by EternalEclipse [#36]

Ichigo had never wanted to be a pokèmon trainer. To be flat honest, the ghosts kept him busy enough. But when Monferno fell into his life with a burst of laughter and trouble, Ichigo is drawn into a side of the pokèmon world he didn't even know existed.

Or the one where there are both ghosts and pokèmon, the Gotei 13 is a government organization with as many checks and balances as ever, and Ichigo will do whatever it takes to keep his own safe.

Feeling Horny by Silmariën (Starrie_Wolf), Starrie_Wolf [#36]

When Urahara shoved Ichigo to Hirako to learn how to control his inner Hollow, Ichigo thought it meant Urahara wasn’t Hollowfied.

He was wrong.

the fear is eating you alive / so I'll be your reason, I'll be your shelter by Chaos_Greymistchild [#37]

Sometimes, Kisuke doesn’t remember where he is, or who he is in his own personal timeline. Sometimes, Ichigo is more Hollow and instinct than human. But that’s okay.

one-sided understanding by Angst_Distribution_Service (Fox_the_Hermit) [#37]

suspended animation (patiently waiting for the end) by Chaos_Greymistchild [#38]

Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck is new on the starship Zangetsu, piloted by Captain Kurosaki alongside his AI Urahara Kisuke, who seems to have an… unprecedented freedom on board the ship, if she was being entirely honest.

Freedom worth Fighting (for) by Starrie_Wolf [#39]

Things have a way of coming full circle...

You Haven't Lost Me by FeelingFredly [#40]

Ichigo has moved on. It doesn't matter if his Shinigami powers are gone--he's a weapon, and there was always a market for that skill set. Currently that skill set was being tasked to collect the oyabun's past due tribute from a troublesome shopkeeper.

Troublesome shopkeeper. No... it couldn't be.

What they don't understand by Starrie_Wolf [#42]

Ichigo comes back from winter break with bruises he can't explain and a significant other who looks to be much older than him.

His classmate thinks she's put two and two together.

With Affection by wynnebat [#44]

"Yoruichi asked me if I had any family," Ichigo says. His gaze rests on the courtyard and squad buildings across from them while Kisuke cannot look away. Ichigo's voice is even, but Kisuke knows better than that. Ichigo adds, wryly, "I told her all I needed was you."

painting in blood by Chaos_Greymistchild [#45]

“It’ll be fine.”

He hopes that that proves true.

You Don't Have a Soul, You Are a Soul (You Have a Body) by FeelingFredly [#47]

Kisuke has a disregard for his own safety a mile wide and it's enough to drive Ichigo mad. This time he finds the shopkeeper unconscious but not alone, and the woman with him has some very interesting things to say.

Thunder For Bells In This Church Of Two by Chaos_Greymistchild [#48]

“[Resonance for a human is] total, complete, irreversible blending” -- Bell Tolls, esama

For the shinigami, it is... less so.

wear your soul (outside your body) by Fox_the_Hermit [#48]

Ichigo has no idea how he ended up with someone so brilliant. Kisuke has no idea how he got lucky enough to end up with one of the best people he's ever met.

your heart doesn't beat (let me teach it to) by Fox_the_Hermit [#52]

Kisuke understands that his time to go has come. It's time to accept that he can't hang around forever. His dear friend Ichigo has agreed to help him with finding what is needed to help him move onwards, whatever that really means. (Except he’s not ready to let go.)

roots in my lungs, blooms on my tongue by Chaos_Greymistchild [#55]

Astilbes, dahlias, and Queen Anne’s Lace. Patience, devotion, sanctuary.

Will you become my... by SueGra [#57]

The war with Ywhach has ended two years ago. Everybody enjoying the peace. Suddenly all captains get an invitation to the Shiba compound because there is a new clan head? Who is she/he?

Happily Ever After by Starrie_Wolf [#58]

Ichigo wasn't expecting a happily ever after, but it seems like he could find a little peace at last.

Omega as Fish Oil by EternalEclipse [#59]

Yeah, Ichigo's an omega. He's fine with it, especially since some of the instincts that come along with it are useful for protecting his own. What he's not fine with are a bunch of shinigami noble knotheads deciding that he's up for the taking because of it. Luckily, he's got a Kisuke to help him set them straight.

You are my Sanity by OrangeTeaMoon [#60]

And so, it had taken Urahara Kisuke nearly 4 months, 1 week, 3 days and a direct run-in with an absolutely impossible apparition of Kurosaki Ichigo to realize that he had lost his mind.

reach the epilogue (and then take it from the top again) by Fox_the_Hermit [#61]

Ichigo's alive and healthy and whole. But too many people aren't (friends, family, the one single crush that hasn't had the time to get anywhere), and this isn't an epilogue to his story that's worth living in. He'd rather rewrite the whole damn thing from scratch.

Only the truth you want to see by Starrie_Wolf [#61]

Growing up as the daughter of a police detective father and a novelist mother, it’s no small wonder that Rika chose to study English Literature in university. The class is unavoidably small – even for Todai,finding students interested in pursuing a degree in the classics of a foreign country is a difficult matter.

Which makes all her classmates so unavoidably interesting.

Especially that Kurosaki Ichigo.

I'm a Certified Genius, I Swear by Chaos_Greymistchild [#64]

Kisuke’s not quite sure why he keeps getting gifts from the Shiba Clan Head, Shiba Ichigo, but— Hiyori please stop laughing please.

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FANART

UraIchi PC4 Prompt #32 - Magic AU / Mythology AU / Fantasy AU by @ananfer [#32]

UraIchi PC4 Prompt #48 - Daemons AU by @junoagriffin [#48]