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danddymaro · 3 years

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Take My Hand |Loki x (Asgardian) Reader x Bucky Barnes

Quick and easy because as much as I would love to make a whole series, I don't have the capability to do so regularly and not disappoint.

With that being said this might just be left open as a single shot so I don't have to pick lol.

Word count: 5097

A/N: Have I mentioned I love drama?

- because I love drama.

Loki is a serious drift between romantic and platonic, and I just... I just love it, because you're like, hmmm.

Is there something there?

Am I overthinking it?

Who do I pick?

Long-term friendship W/ Loki

Reader is Asgardian (as mentioned)

Bucky is in a half and half state. He’s somewhat good, but dealing with his stuff.

A lot more Loki W/reader.

Take My hand

She was a perfect woman, and he wholeheartedly believed it.

In his eyes she was the embodiment of everything he could ever ask for, but, even then, that didn't mean he couldn't be a stupid man.

‘It’s really for the best,’ He told himself, all in order to convince himself that what he was about to do was for the best.

‘ - Because right now...it’s not the best time for any of this,’ He thought to himself, biting his lower lip as he felt her reaching for him for warmth.

‘-It’d been in the heat of the moment,’ He inwardly spoke, wanting to take away any special meaning that the moment could hold.

‘yeah,’ he went on, wishing he could go back in time before they let themselves get carried away.

‘It’s just that...’ he went on, in a desperate attempt to convince himself that it was just like with any other time, and any other woman.

Though, in truth, as much as he tried to fight it, it was anything but insignificant. Far, deep within his being he did not want to forget the lovely moment now that it had occurred.

It was then that (f/n) pressed her cheek to his chest, her ear landing just a few inches off from his heart.

Her arm was then draped over his stomach, allowing her hand to land at his side, the woman seeming fully contempt with life as they cuddled.

‘It didn’t mean anything,’ He added with a long exhale, trying to convince himself as much as he could, hoping that if he repeated it enough, it would somehow become easier.

‘(f/n),’ He started, ‘Is this how you are with everyone else?’ He then wondered, asking himself if the cuddly nature was meant just for him, or for just anyone that lay next to her.

‘(f/n),’ He then added, his heart weighing down, ‘If I tell you a lie....would you just believe it? Will you just believe it...not having expected anything else from me but a single moment?’ He added, the same muscle tightening as the woman seemed to be at compete ease.

The sentiment was infectious and as he felt her melt, it was hard for him not to do the same. Even if his mind was far too plagued by a tornado of torment, his body got the message.

Naturally, the tension in his body melted, and it only made things more difficult, because it just meant that his heart was responding to her embrace, knowing that this time, it was different.

‘I know I’ve got a nasty reputation right now,’ He started, ‘ but it’s because, really, I don’t care about seeing them the day after.’ He silently admitted to the (h/c) haired woman.

He’d somewhat gone back to his old ways, though, not quite entirely because it was hard to fall back into being the same charmer he used to be when he’d gone through such a long-termed torment.

But, at the very least, he was graced with good looks, and it did plenty for him when he lacked the proper social skills to woo a woman.

He’d shamelessly had little hook ups here and there, and that was just what they were, and nothing more.

‘They know what to expect, and for me, it’s a routine.’ he thought idly, finding the arrangements he had better than spending the time alone in silence with his own thoughts.

‘I care about you a lot.’ He thought with certainty, pointing out what separated her form everyone else. ‘I think...that maybe... I might have actually fallen in love,’ He then corrected himself, finally admitting it.

‘If I think about you so much,’ He started, knowing it wasn’t right how frequently she came to mind, well aware that what he felt wasn’t something that he could feel for just anyone.

‘if you’re the first thing that comes to mind when I think about the good things in life...’ he then trailed off, filling it the rest with a silence that reached his mind.

‘ (F/n), I choose you.’ He declared. “ I’d always choose you,’ He thought with determination. ‘I just hope you know...that right now, (f/n), I’m choosing you.

Above me.

Above everyone else.

I’m choosing what’s best for you, and not what I want instead,’ he thought with lament.

‘ Right now, I’m no where near where I want to be.’ He went on with the same sorrow.

‘ There’s a reason I never stay overnight.

There’s a reason I don’t get too close to any one else...because it’s better for people to think I’m some asshole than some crazy psychopath.’ He told himself, not wanting to share his misery with the lovely woman.

‘You deserve more,’ He thought with certainty. ‘You’re meant for better things,’ He told himself, never forgetting her origin, knowing that she’d always be much more than he deserved.

She was a literal goddess, and he was just some broken down old fool.

“(f/n),” He started before closing his eyes while he let a deep breath leave his nostrils,

“(F/n),” He then said again, letting his mouth do the work, disconnecting himself from it all to make it more believable, because if she saw the misery that threatened to overtake him, she’d have doubt.

She stared at him with widened (e/c) colored eyes, the happy glow to them fading as he continued to speak, giving her an excuse to why he couldn’t stay, and much more, why he wasn’t one meant to settle down.

"- You understand....right?" He questioned her, and throughout his speech, it took all the power he could muster to not look back at her heartbroken expression, even though it felt like his duty to ease it.

‘When you’re upset, I feel like I have to put you at ease,’ He thought with tenderness, knowing the pain was there, and that it existed on her beautiful face.

He knew he'd caused it and instead, chose to cower, biting his tongue as he heard her take in a long, strong breath through her nostrils.

She’d long let go of him, and had chosen to distance herself the more he spoke,

"Of course," She responded, the hand that clutched the covers shaking before she released the fierce grip, finally collecting herself enough to hold back her melancholy.

She believed his deception because until then, she hadn't had a reason to distrust him.

Until then, he’d always been honest with her.

"I understand." She said with a soft, blue breath, her (e/c) colored eyes watching him as he slid from beneath the covers, soon throwing on his clothes in a way that was far too collected for a man that had regrets.

There was no stumble, nor fumble and she looked on with melting shoulders.

Quietly, (f/n) handed him his shirt, offering him a soft, yet broken smile, thinking she had mastered the false expression, though, failing the final test.

"You ok?" He asked her, his voice coming out soft and kind, because he never meant to hurt her.

'No...' She inwardly wept.

"Yeah...I get it," She said instead, her eyes fluttering close as he neared her, laying a soft kiss on her hairline.

"- I'm heading out now," he informed her, his right hand gently patting down (h/c) colored hair, the affectionate act causing her to shrink as she nodded in acceptance.

'Please...don't,' she silently begged.

'Not yet. If you're going to go anyways, just stay a little longer,' she added as she watched him go, wondering if she’d been the only one to hold back on calling him, or if he was used to being pleaded.

It didn’t take long for her to finally let loose of the harsh grip she had on herself, choking out soft sob after he left, properly reacting to his rejection once he was out of sight, and problobly off to his same routine.

And that was the part that hurt most, that in the end, she was just like all of the others.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Please...” (f/n) breathed, her voice down and tired as she tried to keep the conversation with the man civil.

But, it was fruitless, because as much as she wanted to avoid the conversation, he was detrained to dig deep, going as far as to follow her through the entirety of the empty facility. He remained hot on her trail with quick, long strides that only ceased when she decided to finally stop and turn towards him with the same defeated gaze she’d wear whenever she was shamed and beaten.

“You are a god!” Loki barked back at her, his emerald eyes shadowed over and dimmed as he roared out the words.

He spat them at the woman to remind her what was her true title, because he detested how fiercely she tried to play home with a realm that she didn’t belong to.

“You shouldn't be played a fool by an insignificant, Midgardian, lowlife,-”

“- Loki please,” She cut him off with a weak voice, desperately trying to both calm and silence him.

'Not now,' She secretly pleaded, not wanting to hear the harsh speak, especially with the news she’d just received.

She hardly found the strength to plead with him, and at that very moment, she was certain that it was the last bit of resistance she had left, the hollow feeling that she'd been consumed by only weakening her furthermore as the days progressed.

Left as nothing more than a walking husk, she cowered, and it was something he could see.

Her attempt was futile as well as her will to reason, and it only seemed to fuel his means to speak in such a heated tone, because the (f/n) he knew wasn’t so frail.

“You still defend him?!” He questioned her in complete astonishment, the tone borderline mocking.

In response she said nothing, and the woman only stared at her feet in disgrace, swallowing down a small wad of spit that would be her defense.

She couldn't find anything to say, or justify herself, and her silence was her only answer at the moment, the only one she could provide.

Because what was she to say?

Yes, she was a fool.

Yes, she simply strung along.

Yes to all the accusations, however, "Please…" she said softly, slowly lifting her gaze to meet his, finally finding it in herself to look directly at him.

She couldn't bear to listen to more, because despite everything that happened, it hurt her to hear the demi-god speak of Bucky in such a way that demoted him into nothing but worthless rubble.

No matter what had happened between them, nor how much bitterness was left in between to savor, she still loved him too much to sit through any ill talk of him. Aside from that, the way Loki threw her own foolishness In her face burned, scathing the warrior that lay dormant.

“No pleading me woman! I have sat back and watched you gravel and lower your status to an expendable waste of time and space here on Midgard!” He said loudly.

Her self-esteem was already at an all-time low, and his words only stung more, causing her to visibly shrink, her shoulders sinking as she accepted his venom.

All sympathy was left aside as his rant ran, and she wasn't surprised because she knew how heated and stubborn he could be, and by then she was well aware that she might as well speak her feeble plea to a brick wall.

'I know,' She quietly mused.

He watched her take in the insults with the same grimace and the sight didn’t soften his harsh glare in the least bit, nor deter his speech, and it was then that he made his final decision,

“I am not pleading you, nor am I requesting this,” he stated lowly, and the way he looked at her almost frightened her because she knew he had something severe to come.

Bracing herself, she looked up at him, (e/c) colored eyes wide and teary, waiting for what was to come.

“I demand you return to Asgard with me today.” he finished, each word spat out firmly.

His chin was held high as his eyes dared her to defy him, and at that, her heart came to a sudden stop.

“Today?!” she breathed, “ Loki- No, No, No, I can't simply leave like that.” She said frantically, nearly on the verge of tears, the panic she felt rising, momentarily shielding her from feeling the full strength of her sorrow.

“You can't?” He said, raising a brow,“…or you won't?” he asked her, silence ensuing after his low murmur.

"What stops you?" He questioned her, wanting to hear her say it, itching for her to face the reality of her decisions.

She tried her best to put on a brave front, but failed miserably and soon enough, tears began to fall down her face. Quickly, she hung her head to hide her worthless state, however, hiding her tears did nothing to stifle her sniffles, letting him know she was breaking down.

“ Loki..." She breathed.

‘I can’t go now,’ She thought to herself with weakness.

"- I'm pregnant…” she sniffed, her voice as soft as silk, completely delicate and woven with the finest fibers of desolation and helplessness. Through her (h/c) colored bangs, her ( e/c) eyes Scanned his face, only to find It unmoved, the expression giving her unease.

“And your point is?” He said with a low growl, annoyed.

The news didn't faze him, nor did it lessen his piercing glare, and it unnerved her, “Did you not hear me?” She questioned him, struck by disbelief.

Didn't he just hear her?

Did he even understand what the implications of her being in such a state meant?

She couldn't just leave, it wasn't right to do so.

“I heard you,” he said placing both hands behind his back, breathing in a soft, mellow sigh that loosened his tense body, “In Fact,” he began, “I knew before you mentioned it to me.” He said coolly.

"Y-you knew," she said shocked, though not entirely convinced, "That's impossible..." she murmured with uncertainty written all over her person.

she stared straight at him for a form of proof that indicated he could be lying, but she got nothing in return, only the same arrogant look he'd mastered.

“-Three weeks." He said simply, " You are three weeks pregnant,” he said before giving her a satisfied look that was in response to her expression of shock.

"Don't be so surprised, the question on your face is insulting.” He huffed, “ Need I remind you, that to fool a trickster is of unlikeliness my dear? " he said smugly.

"Then if you knew, then why give me such an ultimatum!" She furiously bellowed.

Why put her through the pain?

Why tear her child from a father?

Why try and force her into leaving?

The questions burdened her as she faced him, but the growing fury she felt forced her to retain them, not knowing where to start.

He huffed out a dry chuckle before closing the space in between them, slowly stepping closer.

"As I said before. I am not asking you to come with me, I am telling you, and trust me when I say you will comply," he asserted.

By then his taller figure loomed over hers, making her feel even smaller than before, the sudden burst of passion she had dying out as he towered over her.

"Are you really going to force me? " She murmured dejectedly, knowing that any hope of defying him wouldn't happen if he was fully intent.

" Only if I must, " He said calmly, seemingly cooled down..

She became crestfallen, the woman withdrawn and small by then, “Please don't make me...” she sniffed, looking up at him with hurt (e/c) colored eyes.

"Think about this, the child will be born on a bed of silk and surrounded by the finest. In Asgard, they will have a lasting life, one of prosperity, of higher thinking and understanding.

They won't be held back by petty wars and battles, the very ones you attempt to stop.

What more could one want for their own?" He reasoned with an almost too kind smile, lulling her onto his side, hoping to easily strum her along.

He then opened his mouth to speak again before she could deny him, using his silver tongue,

“Do you truly believe a child here would not suffer ?" He questioned her.

" You, more than anyone know how much corruption and danger there is here, especially for a person such as yourself….one who has so many foes." He reminded her.

" - With that said, would you would allow your child to live here, risking thier life? ” he asked her.

She was wedged between a spear and the wall, because as he stated out the facts, she was well aware of how much more favorable the other realm was, however, there existed a factor that bound her to the place she now called home,

"My child needs a father. " She said softly, so much so he couldn't have heard her at any farther distance.

Instantly, the emerald-eyed man turned from her, making an attempt to not capture her heartbroken gaze, and yet again silence filled the room, the space disrupted by the long, hiss he let escape.

" Oh," he breathed, " And here they have one, yes? " He dared to ask.

The question nearly killed her, because the dagger that had already been wedged in her heart was moving, digging deeper, and rotating in a way it ensured there wouldn't be any healing.

‘ he wouldn't... I know he wouldn't reject a child of his own flesh and blood.’ she thought with a glimmer of hope, trusting the man she'd given herself to.

His heart was good, and she was convinced of it.

She desperately wanted to believe it, however, Loki was a man that knew how to crush one's dreams, the soft-tongued man always aware of what words to use, because he’d mastered the art of manipulation.

" - The man who rejected you, who used you, who humiliated you in the vilest way he could… He is worthy of being a father? " he questioned her, finding a weak point.

'He doesn't want to be with me,' She then thought to herself. ' he doesn't want that life....so of course, why would he be willing to stop?

For me...For a child that comes from me...

One he never planned...

Why should I force him...right?’

“ Do you believe that if he cared for you, he would toss you away so easily, without even a glance at your way.

- Watching you suffer, seeing you slowly crumble… and do nothing?

I could never sit by and watch you suffer.” He then told her.

“How is it that he can?” He then asked her, watching her swallow hard.

“ Much more , Do you truly believe a man such as himself would be safe around a child? Again I ask -

Would you put your own child at risk? “

Her eyes went wide and she sucked in a strangled breath, taking in the words with a fastly thudding heart,

“You’re wrong !” she said stubbornly, “He wouldn't harm his own child, to any child. To any one!” she rambled. “He wouldn't ! he isn't like that, not anymore Loki!” She said with panic.

'No...you can play with every insecurity I have,' She silently spoke, ' but that is not one,' she thought with confidence.

“ of course HE isn't, but what about the Winter soldier? what about the ruthless assassin that lies dormant?

What of that feral beast he becomes ?

Is he not unstable still?”

She shook her head with a certain look to her eyes, pride swelling through at the gaze, “ You can't play on a fear I long let go of. I know he is strong enough.

He is different." she said with borderline arrogance.

He then sighed, the breath sounding exasperated.

"Return to Asgard. whatever fool that crosses your path could take the role." He finished, beginning to walk away, not willing to negotiate any longer, growing weary of the conversation.

"If a father is what you need then find a suitable one once we arrive," He advised her. “You’re still in your early stages,” he reminded her, letting her know how easy it’d be to just push the responsibility onto some other fool.

Her eyes became wide at his solution and her nostrils flared in anger, a sudden burst of fury striking her,

“I will do no such thing !” she growled, quickly pulling him back.

With her quick hand shot directly at him, she managed to grab his shoulder and spin him around roughly. And it was at that moment that he found himself facing a different woman, one he recognized.

Fire blazed in her (e/c) colored orbs, and by then the tears no longer flowed, slightly pleasing him.

The display of a knowing smirk made its way onto his face as he watched her, preferring her in her current state.

" That is deceiving, and a much more, a disgusting act. I could never do such a thing !" She said in between gritted teeth, "And for you to expect it from me, I'm appalled." She further seethed.

"You, are simply unbearable," He snickered.

"So are you, darling," she bit back.

‘Just when I think we’ve become strangers...we come to this point again.’ he thought to himself. ‘A change in scenery. A different year and stage in our lives, and yet, it’s all warmly familiar,’ He added, by then certain that he and the woman were destined to be at each other sides.

‘Alright,’ He decided, knowing what had to be done.

"Unbearable woman..." He breathed, " I have another proposition." he informed her.

She nearly tore out her hair at his words, frustrated, because, Could he not just understand?

she couldn't just leave,

"NOTHING YOU SAY COULD POSS-"

"Then I will be that fool…per se."

" …what? " She breathed stepping back from him, anger having disappeared. Instead, she stared at him in awe, as if he had grown a new head entirely.

“Idiot...” She murmured, “Just what are you saying!” She questioned him, still in shock, not knowing how to really react.

" You heard me, I will take responsibility of you both." He said with a low voice, his eyes cast down as he spoke, looking almost hesitant to word his proposal for a reason other than doubt of his own.

Truly, if there was any reason he looked away, it was because there was a vulnerability to him that he didn’t want to show so openly.

'Why are you doing this Loki ?’ She gloomily wondered.

“- Why?” She questioned him, “ Just why are you so pent on me leaving with you?” She asked him while taking a step closer to him.

Her hand reached out to him, her palm gently taking hold of his cheek, easing him to properly gaze at her.

“Why?” she breathed, questioning him yet again.

“Could the god of lies and deceit finally tell me the truth?" She challenged him, the words making his lips twitch with the most delicate touch of amusement.

"- Why not? " He said simply, still not looking towards her, his eyes stubbornly drawn away.

"B-Because !" She argued, not finding where to begin,

‘ Because I don’t want to hurt you.

Because you deserve so much more.

Because I love you too much to damn you in any way.’

Finally finding it in himself, he pulled up a soft smile, “I see no fault in my plan.” He assured her, the confident comment not easing her.

“It's marriage Loki! A family!” She cried in frustration. “It’s an eternity!” She went on, no longer convinced he knew the true implications of such ties.

“- I understand what it means fully well,” He started, “ And it seems that you do too, so could it be that you simply wish to not bind yourself to me in specific?” he said looking insulted, a hint of playfulness hidden in his words, the childish speak further wounding her, because the lightheartedness he showed only highlighted his true devotion.

His sweet banter only showed how sure he was.

“No... it's just... what about you?” She whispered with a crooked smile, an imperfect expression that tried too hard to properly showcase all of her inner musings from sadness and loss, to confusion and joy, and even hints of frustration.

“-What of me?” he asked her back, his tone just as sweet as hers.

“Don't play the role of a fool, because it doesn't fit you well,” she rebutted, the words making him crack a true smile.

“Do you not see it as sacred as I do?” She said with glittering eyes.

‘To me...this means devoted love.

This means there is no end.

This is something my heart has always yearned for,’

“Yes.” He answered her without a shred of hesitance, no second thought hidden between the spaces of the words.

“Then why me…?” She questioned him, “ Why make the sacrifice for me?” choking on her own words when she asked the one question she had begged to be answered.

“ why take me from my home here?” She continued to ask him. “Why put me before your own desires?” (f/n) said while beginning to shake.

“This is my desire,” He said as his hand rose to cover hers, all while his head leaned to her palm even moreso,

“ I wish you could truly grasp at how special you are.

How rare it is to find a woman such as yourself, in just about any part of the universe, even while scouring entire realms," he proceeded, grasping her little limb before lacing his fingers with hers, and suspending them in the air between them.

“That child of yours, they will take on my name, and whatever glories are bestowed upon them will be preceded by both of our titles, hopefully with pride,” He said with a small chuckle.

She could detect no lies, and at that, her hand squeezed his,

“ A child is an extension of you, and so, I could never deny them. They will be mine, just as they are yours.” he spoke before releasing a low, airy chuckle,

“Perhaps then I can show Odin how a true parent is to treat their son,”

He finished with a snide remark.

“Son..?” She questioned him, lightly tilting her head as she gazed at him, “A son?” she repeated while envisioning such a child.

‘Would our son hold resemblance to their father...or would they somehow hold all of me instead?’ She idly thought to herself, envisioning the same beautiful blue eyes that now caused her sorrow being possessed by her child.

“ Yes dear,” Loki said with certainty, “ A son. A boy. wouldn't that be marvelous?” He questioned her, seeming enthralled by the very idea, so much that he slid his free hand down to her upper back, the other that linked with her own held dearly as he took a step to the side, performing a lax spin that was of a poorly preformed waltz, and it reminded her so much of the little dances they preformed as children.

“ Then what if it's a girl?” she interjected, “Would you still be as willing to accept them? ” She said while smugly awaiting his answer, wanting to see him weigh in every possibility.

“What do you mean if it's a girl ?” He said while stopping their spinning, “ Then there will be a princess born, and she will be a proper lady,” He responded without question, mindlessly falling in sync with her little steps.

“Oh, and mother will just adore her. We will teach her all sorts of magic and quick Wit.

She will have both our bronze and brain,

Your righteous convictions, your every strength...they will be celebrated.

And every weakness she develops will be assured by me,” He swore to her, seeing only a bright path in the wake.

“She will be a gem formed in the same mine as her perfect mother,” He said proudly, but not soon after did his frown overtake him, abruptly stopping their little waltz,

“Which in turn...will mean she will be sought after by just about every man in Asgard,” He mumbled lowly, breaking off from her with a bothered downturn,

“And of course, none will ever be worthy of her, “ he said with a present scowl.

Momentarily, she stared at him, her sight, and mind alike completely taken by the prince who she could only then, describe as precious.

“ Traces of doubt nested within me, until just now, “ She admitted, “You're serious aren't you..?” she asked him with a small chuckle, her (e/c) colored eyes gazing at him with an even brighter light.

“ And I keep asking myself...why?” she said softly, shaking her head all the while, and it was then that his entire face melted into a sweetened softness that was further accented by the gentle smile he presented.

“ You have been with me through and through, just like a shadow, but unlike one, you don’t stand behind me.

You don’t cower yourself, and, instead, show me devotion while everyone else looks away.

You’ve defended me, despite the many times I've paid you back with everything but the truth. “ he said with shame.

“(f/n), with you, I’ve felt true love,” He admitted to her.

“What we have, to me, has always been treasured.

It has always been cherished.

I was never doubtful of what it was,” He further confessed. “I do not want you to look at that man more than you have to.

I do not want you to live in the same place he calls home.

- I cannot stand your suffrage.

Do you understand me?

You've always been one to find reason behind my actions and against all logic and reasoning.

You’ve always tried to save me, so now, shouldn't I do the same with you?” He questioned her.

“(F/n),” He airily murmured, “Would you take my hand, and disappear?” He then asked her, pulling back to just the touch of fingertips.

With an upturned palm, he offered her a sweet smile as he repeated the question a second time,

“(f/n)...Would you take my hand?

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rosesgonerogue · 4 years

Text

Let the Sunshine In - Prologue

It’s here! This is the prologue of the Jasonette fic I’ve been promising to celebrate my 100+ followers. I’m going to apologize in advance, this particular section is kind of angsty. I recently watched Under the Red Hood, and I’m in the middle of Violet Evergarden and I HAVE EMOTIONS.

***********************

Ladybug collapsed in an empty alleyway, her entire body screaming from the latest akuma attack. She desperately wanted to cry, but she couldn’t give Hawkmoth any reason to try to akumatize her. Besides, in this state, she might just agree to his demands.

She still had a few minutes before she transformed back, and in desperation, she flipped open her yo-yo. “I know the Justice League told me to stop ‘prank calling,’ but… I just need to feel like someone cares about this city. Please find me one person who is willing to help.”

Jason should have been at school, but after getting in a fight he’d made the executive decision that he was taking the rest of the day off. He knew Alfred was planning on cleaning the mansion that day, so he found himself loitering around the Batcave when a call came in.

He was already in costume for… training, so Jason just had to slap on his Robin mask before answering. “Hello?”

On the screen was the most beautiful girl that Jason had ever seen. She looked around his age, wearing a red-spotted suit and a matching domino mask. However, her mask didn’t obscure the clearest blue eyes that Jason had ever seen. They were entrancing, but also a bit broken, like him. She had seen too much, done too much.

“Hello?” she said in heavily accented English. “Who is this?”

“You’re calling a super-secure super computer, sweetcheeks. I believe that’s my line,” Robin said with an impish grin.

He immediately regretted his statement when the girl looked close to crying. “I-I’m Ladybug, one of Paris’s heroes.”

“But Paris doesn’t have--”

“Obviously we do have heroes,” the girl--Ladybug--snapped. “I’m not just a child pretending like the Justice League accused me of. Our heroes are real, and our villain is very real. Hawkmoth is getting better and more dangerous as time goes by. I don’t know how much more our city can handle.”

Jason straightened, somehow already sold on this girl’s story. “Do you have any photographs or footage of any of the events? I can talk to Batman about it--or at the very least irritate him until he listens.”

Ladybug’s eyes widened, a glimmer of hope lighting up her face. “Batman? That means you’re--”

She was cut off by a beeping noise that made her curse softly under her breath. “I have to go, but I’ll call again. Thank you for listening, Robin.”

“I’ll do what research I can, Ladybug. We’ll help you out,” Jason promised earnestly.

Marinette smiled, the first genuine smile she’d had for days, possibly longer. Probably since she had become the Guardian of the Miracle Box. “You really don’t know how much I needed someone to care, Robin. Thank you. Bug out.”

From then on, Ladybug fought with the knowledge and hope that people could and did care about her city. She called Robin on and off to plan how to convince the League that the situation in Paris was very real. He was brilliant, although it was obvious that everyone could see it except Robin himself. They even got to the point that Marinette would call them friends. There were a lot of things she couldn’t tell him and he couldn’t tell her, but they learned to ease one another’s burdens in whatever ways they could. Robin made her feel like Marinette could handle being the Guardian, and Ladybug made Jason feel like he was more than a street kid who couldn’t fill Dick Grayson’s shoes.

Things seemed to be looking up for Marinette on all accounts--schoolwork seemed easier, she had just the perfect number of commissions, and Lila had at least temporarily directed her attention elsewhere.

They had set aside a time to plan every week, but one week Jason didn’t answer right away. Marinette didn’t think anything of it at first, he was probably busy. But when she tried again, it wasn't Robin that answered, but Batman.

“How did you get this channel?” he demanded in a voice gruffer than Marinette thought was possible for a human being to produce. “Who are you?”

“L-Ladybug. I’m Ladybug, sir, and I was calling for Robin.”

At these words, the man’s face distorted into the embodiment of distrust and rage. “You think this is funny? Because I will--”

“What’s wrong?” Marinette asked, dread curdling in her stomach. “Did something happen to Robin?”

She couldn’t see his eyes from behind the cowl, but Marinette knew Batman was glaring at her, the singularly most terrifying moment of her life. “Robin is dead, because that’s what happens when children try to play hero. Leave that kind of thing to the adults, little girl, unless you want to end up the same way.”

Robin is dead.

Those three words pounded through Marinette’s head like an inescapable drumbeat. At some point the yo-yo had fallen out of her hand, and Batman had hung up with the strict instructions never to call again.

The world felt fuzzy, not quite real to Marinette. In an unexpected moment of clarity, though, Marinette realized: strong emotions were coming. She knew she wouldn’t be able to deny Hawkmoth, not with the fresh grief coursing through her. Right now, even if it was just a short time, she needed to be able to feel.

Marinette swung herself through Paris’s streets faster than ever before, launching herself at her balcony with desperation. Her transformation timed out just as she landed, making it easier to slip on Kaalki’s glasses.

She had transformed with Kaalki once or twice before, and for some reason this kwami always made her feel a bit antsy. The second that the transformation settled, Marinette opened up a portal to the first place in her mind that was both out of Hawkmoth’s range, and secluded enough that she wouldn’t have to worry about being seen or heard.

It was too much, losing Master Fu and then Robin. They had been the only things keeping Marinette sane and grounded, and she couldn’t talk about them with anyone else. That combined with the pressure of being Ladybug made Marinette feel like she was going to explode. So she screamed, she screamed until her voice broke, dissolving into pathetic sobbing as she collapsed in on herself on the forest floor.

One by one, the kwamis emerged and surrounded her, concerned.

Tikki was the first to speak. “Are you alright, Marinette?”

“How did he die?”

The kwamis traded uneasy glances. “What?”

“Robin. Can you tell me how he died?” Marinette asked, clutching her knees to her chest. “I just… I need to know.”

“Marinette, I don’t think--”

“She deserves to know,” Wayzz said, interrupting Tikki. “Marinette is no child. SHe’s already had Master Fu taken from her, but she can’t grieve with anyone. She can’t even speak to anyone about it but us. She needs this closure, even if it’s heavy to bear.”

Tikki reluctantly agreed. “This would be easier if Plagg were here, but we can probably show you an approximation of what happened to the boy.”

The kwamis present circled around her, a soft magic glow spreading across all of them. A series of images flashed through her mind, each worse than the last: the glint of a raised crowbar, a pale face with a maniacal grin, blood spattered across grimy floorboards… The worst of all, however, was the image of Robin’s face as the bomb counted down to zero, the hopelessness that came from knowing that no one would come to save him.

Logically there had been no way for Marinette to know that any of this was happening, but she knew she would never be able to forgive herself. One of her only allies in the entire world had died scared and alone, and there was no excuse for that.

She allowed herself to cry for a while longer, the torrent of emotions too much. But alas, negative emotions, and often emotions in general were a luxury that Marinette Dupain-Cheng could not afford. When her tears ran out, Marinette simply straightened up, fed Kaalki a sugar cube, and went back to Paris.

From that day on, Marinette never spoke of Master Fu or Robin again, even to the kwami. She locked them deep in her heart where they could stay until Hawkmoth had been dealt with. As both Marinette and Ladybug, she devoted herself to ensuring that no one would ever feel as alone and afraid as Robin had.

Ladybug was stronger, better at her job than before while Marinette was kinder, more helpful, and more generous than ever. To some it seemed like it was the same as always, but those that really knew her had noticed: her smile was never the same. It was… damaged, somehow, something like seeing the outline of the sun through a veil of clouds.

**********************

This fic is NOT going to be like this most of the time, I swear. I have a good friend that I swap story ideas with named Kit, and we have a lot of fluffy nonsense ahead, with the occaisional splashes of angst. This is actually going to take place a few years in the future, when Marinette is starting college. Just as an FYI, I write fanfiction because it’s fun, but also because it gives me a medium to get feedback and improve my writing. Let me know what you guys think, and if you have any questions or suggestions. This is a side blog, so just know that when I reply in the comments, it’s under the username rogueptoridactyl. Just let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, and hopefully you guys like it!

Taglist: @slytherinsheashire @cravethosecrazysquares @krispydefendorpolice @thesunanditsangel @sonif50 @kris-pines04 @persephonebutkore @tbehartoo @corabeth11 @caffeinetheory @drarryismylife101 @bluerosette23 @weird-pale-blonde-person @mystery-5-5 @heaven428 @thethirdwheelfriend @thetinymoonflower @interobanginyourmom @chocolate1721 @akana-sama @skyel0ve @katiegardneriscoolerthanyou

#maribat #jasonette #jason x marinette

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aros001 · 3 years

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Read through light novel vol. 11. Random thoughts.

Okay, right off the bat, this

is my favorite art in the books yet just because of how annoyed Naofumi looks.

It's always been a thing but I've been seeing it more in these last couple of books, especially in contrast to Sadeena and Alta, but I really like that Naofumi likes that Raphtalia will push back against him when she doesn't like something, be it his attitude, his action, or his ideas. He doesn't want a yes-man or someone who'll worship and never question him. Child Raphtalia was kind of his sidekick but adult Raphtalia is definitely his partner. They trust each other completely and they never have to worry about holding back their honest thoughts. This is especially important if there is to ever be a romantic relationship between the two of them. Romance is not supposed to be just the guy and his prize. Naofumi and Raphtalia I can see working as a couple because they genuinely see each other as equals.

So, as has been revealed so far, Trash's family, save for himself and his younger blind sister, were murdered by the hakuko. He hated Siltvelt because it's where the hakuko came from and his own kingdom for taking no action against them for those murders. Then later his sister was attacked by a hakuko and presumably murdered and possibly raped but the body was never found, thus pushing him to overthrow the king of Siltvelt because he was a hakuko.

And he hates the Devil of the Shield because...! ...A previous Shield Hero helped to found Siltvelt? I get that Siltvelt is a demi-human supremacist country and that it worships the Shield Hero but I feel like there's a little bit of a disconnect in Trash's hatred. I suppose his hatred for Naofumi didn't blow up until he thought he tried to force himself on Malty and before that he just treated him dismissively, but I can't help but feel like I'm missing something here. Also, didn't the previous Shield Hero die in Siltvelt a month into him being summoned? I get that hatred and the desire for revenge are not always very rational, especially when religion is thrown into the mix, but I feel like it's odd he's placed so much of it on Naofumi and the Shield Hero as a whole.

So Fohl and Alta are possibly the nephew and niece of Trash through his sister and the grandchildren of the hakuko king of Siltvelt whom he killed. Obviously I'm hoping Trash's sister wasn't raped to conceive them and that it was just a forbidden love like was one of Naofumi's theories, but I guess I'll find that out in a later book.

Also, poor Naofumi and poor Raphtalia. Either Alta wants to be with Naofumi (romantically or...) or she's on her way to becoming the new pope of the Church of the Shield Hero. She was reminding me a little bit of Neia from Overlord and her devotion to Ainz in the latter regard.

“Apparently there’s a new bandit chief that’s risen to power lately, and we’ll be wasting our time unless we capture him.” ... “That’s the thing. I don’t know all the details, but apparently the boss is really distrustful and rarely makes appearances. But he’s also supposed to be strong enough to pick off even the toughest of adventurers one by one without a problem.”

This is going exactly where I think it's going, isn't it?

[Five minutes later]

Yep.

Reading this book and I realized my main issue with Ren, beyond the issues he shares with the other two heroes, was how unbelievably condescending he'd been to Eclair, someone who knew her way with a sword WAY better than he did, just to protect his own ego after he would have lost if he hadn't cheated in their duel. That left a really bad taste in my mouth but it's still not as bad as what I dislike about Motoyasu and especially Itsuki. He hasn't yet specifically apologized for that but he is showing her a lot more respect and being clearly remorseful over his actions. Even him blaming his loss against the Spirit Tortoise on his party's weakness and not his own I could swallow fine because there was the implication that he was unable to deal with the guilt of it being his fault that they were all dead, which, while bad, is a very human thing to feel. As long as he takes his training seriously from this point on and doesn't regress back, I can look forward to his progress and his interactions with Naofumi.

I actually was slightly spoiled before I started reading the light novels that the other heroes were going to unlock their own curse series as well. It was minor because I didn't hear any specifics beyond that but the person I was reading I remember being really unhappy about it. Personally, I'm fine with it. The Holy Weapons are meant to be equal to each other so it makes sense they'd have similar unlockable abilities (relative to what each weapon is, of course). The reason Naofumi is so much stronger is supposed to be because he actually bothered to learn how to use his weapon and because he took how he was told to power it up seriously. If he had an ability the others had no equivalent of it would basically be cheating. Part of the criticism too was that Naofumi had been through so much worse than the others to unlock his curse series, but everyone has different levels of stress they can take and it definitely helps that, thus far, each curse series embodies a different sin and thus has different effects. Motoyasu is clearly being effected differently by his Spear of (I'm assuming) Lust than Naofumi is by the Shield of Wrath or Ren by the Sword of Greed.

Speaking of which, I'm not the only one who felt a big red flag over Motoyasu's Temptation ability, right? I'm not saying he would abuse such a thing but powers that force attraction on people always makes me feel very uncomfortable. Just the fact that it worked on Naofumi whom is both straight and can't stand Motoyasu shows it can work on pretty much anyone who doesn't have specific resistances. It's a scary thing, your romantic and sexual preferences being altered by an outside force. Like a date rape drug weaponized.

The whole controversy over RoTSH's first episode holds less and less weight the further into the series I go. Naofumi vs. Motoyasu I'd argue has several great examples of feminism vs. sexism throughout the story. Naofumi was horribly betrayed by Malty but he doesn't hate women or use what she did as an excuse to. He's simply distrustful of anyone who can potentially betray him and is put off by the idea of any romantic or sexual relationships. Motoyasu gets betrayed by Malty (and his two other party members) and now sees all women as pigs, save for Filo, whom he's now obsessed with. The stupid criticism of RoTSH was that the series had Malty representing all women; that all women lie about being sexually assaulted and that all women are horrible bitches. That is the mentality Motoyasu now has, judging all women by the actions of one.

“Mr. Ren . . . I’m sure you’ve felt just terrible this whole time after losing your companions. It’s okay to cry now. Don’t worry. Even if the whole world insists you’re a criminal, I still believe in you, Mr. Ren. I believe you were fighting for the sake of the world.”

I love how, even after everything else she's done, the thing that makes me hate Bitch almost as much, if not more, as when she made the false rape accusation was her plagiarizing the words Raphtalia had said to finally reach Naofumi's heart and earn his trust. It just felt like such a violation, sullying that moment so much that you just want Bitch to die almost as much as Naofumi does.

Though I suppose it's Witch now, huh? Doesn't have quite the same punch as Bitch but I don't want to call her the Witch Bitch because that's my nickname for Satella in Re:Zero and that's more a term of endearment ironically enough. I don't want to sully her by putting her in any kind of association with Malty.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/shieldbro/comments/fh9syh/read_through_light_novel_vol_11_random_thoughts/

#rising of the shield hero #random thoughts #reddit repost

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wisteria-lodge · 4 years

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Character Analysis - Sorting Sherlock Holmes (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle)

a quick note on why I’m moving away from the HP terminology

So @sortinghatchats is brilliant. Absolutely my favorite character (and person!) analysis system. Instead of one house, you get two - a PRIMARY (your motivation, why you do things), and a SECONDARY (your toolbox, how you get things done.) A very stripped down refresher --

IDEALIST PRIMARY Lion/Gryffindor - I do what I feel is right. (MORAL) Bird/Ravenclaw - I do what I decide is correct. (LOGICAL) LOYALIST PRIMARY Badger/Hufflepuff - I do what helps my community (PEOPLE MATTER) Snake/Slytherin - I do what helps me/my inner circle (MY PEOPLE MATTER)

IMPROVISATIONAL SECONDARY Lion/Gryffindor- Charge! React! Smash the system! Snake/Slytherin- Transform, adapt, find the loophole. BUILT SECONDARY Bird/Ravenclaw - Plan, make tools, gather information. Badger/Hufflepuff - Community-build, caretake, call in favors.

Now let’s talk Sherlock Holmes!!!

***

Mycroft Holmes has a terrifying Bird secondary. He knows everything. He sees everything. He holds all the information in his head, all the time, and can tell you exactly how it connects. “Spymaster Mycroft” didn’t become proper fanon until 1970: in the books he’s more like a human computer, or a Mentat from Dune. This man is incapable of improvising. He hates casual conversation, hates changing his routine, just wants to sit and process and plan. He is the cartoon version of a Bird secondary.

Mycroft is so insanely ‘big picture’ that he barely notices specific individuals. He’s off in in the corner thinking about currency regulation and the situation in Siam. In “The Greek Interpreter” he hears about a woman who might be starving to death… and sort of vaguely puts it on his to-do list. Sherlock ends up handling it.

You could make a case for either a Bird or Lion primary. But I’m going with Lion. Mycroft values instinct like Lions do (”All my instincts are against this explanation.”) And Sherlock describes him as someone who “would rather be considered wrong than take the trouble to prove himself right.” This is teasing, but it’s a joke about a Lion who just sort of feels the answer, not a Bird who needs a reason to be correct. Mycroft’s Cause, the one we see him respond to emotionally, is the smooth functioning of his world. He has a little pocket carved out for his brother, but if he had to choose between the country that he embodies and Sherlock Holmes’ well-being, it’d be England every time.

Knowing that Mycroft has that much power but doesn’t care about individual people makes Sherlock... uncomfortable. It takes him a while to even mention his brother to Watson. And then he lies about how important Mycroft’s job is. Thematically, this where Moriarty comes in. James Moriarty – the older genius hiding deep in the establishment, running a criminal empire from behind a tenured professorship, never getting his hands dirty – is Dark Mycroft. Because Sherlock is pretty sure his brother is one of the good guys. He’s pretty sure Mycroft isn’t going to break bad and go full-on ‘ends justify the means’ supervillain.

But… like… he could.

Sherlock Holmes is also defined by his Bird secondary. His deductions, data, knowledge of crime – it’s his loudest trait. But it’s a model. He tells us it’s a model. This “habit of observation and inference which I formed into a system” is something he built – and honestly, he probably built it for Mycroft. The Holmes brothers don’t do conversations, they have deduction games. Sherlock never wins, but at least he plays on Mycroft’s level.

(Everything about Sherlock Holmes makes more sense when you think about Mycroft. Like the “brain-attic” metaphor. How did Sherlock get this idea that there’s some fast-approaching limit to the actual pieces of information he can fit in his head at once? Because he knows someone with far, far greater processing power).

Underneath this logical Bird secondary model, Sherlock Holmes has something that looks a lot more Snake He’s moody and mercurial. He improvises on the violin to help himself think. He loves acting. He loves disguises. He crushes on Irene Adler because their Snake secondaries have so much fun playing together. And when it’s important, Holmes goes full-on Snake. Need to get Watson away from Moriarty? Better forge a letter sending him on a fake errand.

And as far as primaries go... he’s a Badger. Sherlock Holmes cares about people. Oh wow does he care about people. If he doesn’t protect his client, it’s not a win – even if he solved the case with some brilliant bit of detection. He despises blackmailers, because they destroy lives in a cold, impersonal way. (At least murderers care.) He doesn’t mean to upset people with his deductions, and apologizes when he gets too coldly Bird: “Pray accept my apologies. Viewing the matter as an abstract problem, I had a forgotten how personal and painful a thing it might be to you.” When Watson talks about the “depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask,” Holmes is thirty seconds away from going vigilante killer because somebody hurt John Watson.

But the feeling isn’t just Watson-centric. Holmes doesn’t require Watson at his side the way a Snake would, because as long as he knows Watson is safe and happy, he is content. Holmes need-bases. It’s important that he works for people who need him. He generally dislikes working for the rich or upper-class (Soviet Russian Sherlock Holmes was totally a thing, they didn’t have to change much). He also has a *real* problem with overworking himself, which is very much a Badger primary and not Snake primary thing to do

He even community-builds. His Baker Street Irregulars, his connections over at Scotland yard, his tribe of interesting contacts and informants. Holmes values community. To him, community = safe. He loves London, but isolated rural areas makes him nervous:

“[in London] there is no lane so vile that the scream of a tortured child, or the thud of a drunkard’s blow, does not beget sympathy and indignation among the neighbors, and then the whole machinery of justice is ever so close that a word of complaint can set it going... But look at these lonely houses, each in its own fields… think of the deeds of hellish cruelty, the hidden wickedness which may go on, year in, year out, in such places, and none the wiser.”

And don’t get me wrong. Holmes loves his double Bird armor. It makes him feel powerful, and hides the fact that he cares so damn much. He likes to pretend he doesn’t: to care is to be weak, ineffective, and untrustworthy. (Mycroft is probably to blame for this bit of thinking too.) But Sherlock Holmes is still able to take off his Bird. He takes it off around Watson.

Dr. John Watson is a bright charging Lion secondary who is completely incapable of telling a lie. He’s ex-military. He’s Holmes’ muscle/backup. He’s got a gambling problem. And the thing about Holmes and Watson’s dynamic is that while Holmes calls the shots about 90% percent of the time, when it’s important – Watson goes full unstoppable-force Lion. And Holmes just buckles.

“Well, I don’t like it ; but I suppose it must be,” said I. “When do we start?” “You are not coming.” “Then you are not going,” said I. “I give you my word of honor – and I never broke it in my life – that I will take a cab straight to the police station and give you away unless you let me share this adventure with you” “You can’t help me.” “How do you know that? You can’t tell what may happen. Anyway, my resolution is taken.” Holmes had looked annoyed, but his brow cleared, and he clapped me on the shoulder. “Well, well, my dear fellow, be it so.”

Watson’s absolutely a Lion Primary too. First going into medicine, then joining the army even when that’s not the best career move? At the beginning of A Study in Scarlet, Watson is in terrible shape. Can’t sleep. Can’t stand loud noises. He’s “spending such money as I had considerably more freely than I ought.” But it’s not so much the PTSD as it is the the lack of purpose that’s getting to him. He talks a lot about his “meaningless existence” and how how “objectiveless was my life.” That’s a hurting, burned Lion, without a Cause.

And then Sherlock Holmes stumbles in. Overnight Watson’s life has meaning. He is going to help Holmes bring criminals to justice. He is going to make sure Holmes gets the recognition he deserves. And he’s going to get him clean. (ACD gets massive kudos for being against recreational cocaine and morphine use). The things Watson loves about Holmes, things like his “high sense of professional honor” – those are things that get under the skin of a Lion Primary. This is a guy with pictures of abolitionist preachers framed on his wall. John Watson’s not subtle.

“You don’t mind breaking the law?” [said Holmes] “Not in the least.” “Nor running a chance of arrest?” “Not in a good cause.” “Oh, the cause is excellent!” “Then I am your man.”

And of course, Holmes got lucky in Watson too. Holmes is a Loyalist primary who distrusts other Loyalist primaries – you can’t really blame him, he comes across so many repulsive ones in his day job. (Interestingly, the handful of times Holmes absolutely misreads a motive – “Yellow Face,” “Missing Three-Quarter,” “Scandal in Bohemia” – it’s because he’s going up against a Loyalist primary who is using their powers for good.)

But Watson is a trustworthy, dependable, predicable, honorable, Idealist who can look like a Loyalist because his Cause is so focused on one person. So Holmes can be secure in his doctor’s devotion while also getting to lean on the instincts of someone just unflinchingly moral.

tl;dr

Mycroft Holmes – Lion Bird. An extremely big picture Lion whose Cause involves keeping England together. He’s the light-side counterpart of Professor Moriarty.

Sherlock Holmes – Badger Snake. Builds a loud Double Bird model, partly for pleasure, partly have a relationship with his brother, and partly because dealing with so many low-life Loyalist primaries makes him distrust those instincts in himself.

Dr. John Watson - Double Lion. When we meet him he’s pretty burned, due to his twin Causes of Queen and Country not really working out. Luckily, he meets Sherlock Holmes, and finds a new Cause in him.

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chaoticpanenergy · 4 years

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Alright, Sanders Sides fandom (+ Six the Musical fandom).

I watched this *ahem* neato slime tutorial about Six the Musical and then listened to the soundtrack on Spotify and then overanalyzed the lyrics on genius.com and I have a lot of emotions about this story. So what do I do? I make a Sanders Sides au/analysis for it, obviously, putting WAY too much thought into different interpretations of which side could be which queen. Let’s jump in.

Catherine of Aragon

Catherine in the golden-yellow and black costume. Catherine who knows when she is lied to. Catherine who puts herself first when it comes down to it. Catherine who deals with disrespect but knows her worth anyway. Catherine who “keeps her cool” and stays in control of herself. Catherine must be Janus, lord of the lies, self-preservation, whose calm facade has cracked so rarely.

But then again, Catherine is a leader. Catherine is concerned with loyalty, and what is right and wrong, and that is why she stands up against the divorce—it is wrong of Henry to divorce her, according to her morals. Catherine can swallow her pride, and Catherine seeks a solution to the last, giving Henry so many chances. Catherine handles her situation with grace. Catherine must be Patton, the Hufflepuff, Morality, loving and kind and endlessly forgiving, always trying to do what is right and guide others to do the same.

But then again, Catherine strives to “keep her cool.” To look at things with a level head. She speaks up and reasons with Henry, and in return asks for his own reasoning. She refuses to be made into a joke or looked down upon. Catherine is stubborn and verbose. Catherine must be Logan, the voice of reason, who does his best to keep a handle on his temper and appear as professional as possible, who explains and reasons and is logic above all, who is terrified of being seen as a joke, who is desperate to just be heard for once in his life.

Anne Boleyn

Anne in the green sleeves. Anne who has no filter whatsoever, Anne who says whatever comes into her head. Anne who makes jokes about her own beheading. Anne who says “don’t be bitter/cause I’m fitter/why hasn’t it hit her?/he doesn’t wanna bang you/somebody hang you.” Anne who is “sorry not sorry” about everything she says. Anne who is the most gleeful and up-front about “x-rated” content. Anne whose energy is boundless. Anne who is disliked and cast in a negative light by those around her. Anne must be Remus, the darkly creative, responsible for intrusive thoughts, who would never hide anything going through his head and sees no reason to regret this, the “evil twin.”

But then again, Anne who didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” Anne who desperately cries “what was I meant to do?” over and over again as every choice she makes has no good outcome for her. Anne whose comments are more harshly received than she sometimes means. Anne who does not take it well when she comes second to someone else. Anne must be Roman, the ego, stuck in a damned-if-I-do-damned-if-I-don’t situation towards Janus throughout the “Putting Others First” saga, who often lashes out instinctively only to immediately apologize, who strives to be Thomas’s hero.

But then again, Anne whose actions are surprisingly logical from her own point of view. Anne who uses phrases like “obviously” to describe what took place. Anne who gives back tit for tat and no more when she feels disrespected. Anne who is blunt, perhaps more so than is good for her. Anne must be Logan, who always does what makes the most sense to him, who considers what is fair and equal, who can come across as harsher than he means.

Jane Seymour

Jane who is patient. Jane who is steady. Jane who forgives over and over again and makes allowance for behavior she does not deserve to tolerate. Jane whose family is of the utmost importance to her. Jane is overlooked for her kindness and meekness but is so, so strong. Jane who makes puns about her own name. Jane must be Patton, who adores his family, the punster, who is established as the dad friend from day one, who gives and nurtures and forgives endlessly, who is resilient and strong and supportive.

But then again, Jane sticks with the positions she has chosen. Jane who is easily overlooked. Jane who acknowledges the often-sucky realities of life and does not let it bring her down. Jane who is strong as stone and unshakeable. Jane must be Logan, who will not back down, who can be relegated to the sidelines too easily, who is down to earth and who chooses to see the wonder in the ordinary despite all the bad.

But then again, Jane knows she could be rejected at a misstep. Jane who loves, and is loved, but believes that love could “disappear.” Jane who withstands hardships and heartbreak and fear. Jane who uses storm imagery constantly. Jane whose strength and love is akin to stone, something rarely used as a positive metaphor. Jane must be Virgil, who worries he will be rejected for his dark past, who withstood being shunned by those he “lo—cares for” in the past, who is prickly and can cause harm but has grown and matured, who will not be reduced to a single facet of himself even if that makes him more “complicated,” whose logo is a stormcloud.

Anna of Cleves

Anna who is bold. Anna who is unafraid to speak her mind and gets what she wants. Anna whose physical appearance led to her rejection. Anna who is the epitome of “me time” and “self care.” Anna who has no problem being sassy and gives as good as she gets. Anna must be Janus, who advocates for self care and putting oneself first, who is a drama queen, whose sarcasm is off the charts, who has been accused of trickery (sometimes justified, sometimes not), who thrives on attention, whose snake face led to instant distrust from everyone around him, who will go to any length to be heard.

But then again, Anna who demands attention. Anna who gives herself every luxury that occurs to her on a whim. Anna is the only character to openly curse, and gives it a double meaning. Anna who revels in the portrait that caused her rejection and takes pride in it. Anna is the first to make fun of Henry's genitals. Anna must be Remus, who revels in everything he is told not to, who is impulsive and whimsical and unfiltered, who calls Logan a dork and later reveals the inappropriate double meaning, who takes up space unashamedly.

But then again, Anna who constantly reminds us of her royal position. Anna who leans into the queenly activities and possessions. Anna who is flamboyant. Anna who dances when her jam comes on the lute. Anna who rejects criticism of herself. Anna who is “looking cute.” Anna must be Roman, the ego, who put “Flamboyant” by Dorian Electra on his playlist, who is creativity embodied and dances and sings and acts, who “has got to slay,” who reminds us constantly of his princely status.

Katherine Howard

Katherine who comes across at first as flirty and confident only to later reveal that she is insecure because she has only ever been valued for her appearance. Katherine who idealizes and daydreams about someone caring about her for herself and not her looks. Katherine who uses self-confident language to mask her insecurity. Katherine whose language is so flowery and filled with vivid descriptions. Katherine who desperately wants to be approved of and loved. Katherine must be Roman, whose confident facade hides insecurity, who is a hopeless romantic, who is a storyteller, whose language is filled with descriptors and metaphors, who desperately craves approval and validation, who is the romantic side.

But then again, Katherine gives others the benefit of the doubt. Katherine who looks for friends everywhere she goes. Katherine who constantly uses euphemisms and language that might be considered childish. Katherine who is sweet and sincere. Katherine must be Patton, who censors his language and can skirt around topics that are too unpleasant, who forgives and gives second chances, who is kind and soft, who makes friends almost as easily as breathing.

But then again, Katherine who has been let down over and over again. Katherine who tries again and again after every disappointment. Katherine who is anxious to be approved of. Katherine must be Virgil, who dealt with the “scorn” of those he admired for so long, who has persevered through everything, who deals with self-doubt, who always tries again.

But then again, Katherine who thinks she ought to know better, but never does. Katherine who is so, so tired of this same shit every time. Katherine who is too worldly and disillusioned. Katherine who hopes and tries again every time she gets let down. Katherine must be Janus, who put “You’re a Cad” on his playlist, who was rejected time and time again by Thomas and the others but kept trying, who went on a whole ramble about how society is out to get you and the only person you can really trust is yourself.

Catherine Parr

Catherine who brought all the queens together despite their differences and their fights. Catherine who was separated from the person she cared about before eventually reuniting with him. Catherine who uses her voice defiantly because she is tired of being silenced. Catherine who doesn’t need love to get by. Catherine who loves music. Catherine who sometimes loses hope, but keeps going anyway. Catherine must be Virgil, the bridge between “light” and “dark” sides, who cannot be silenced, always listening (to Thomas or to music), who cared about the “light” sides long before he was accepted as part of the group.

But then again, Catherine who prioritizes herself and her own story. Catherine who sings her song “for me.” Catherine who is a little bit cynical about love stories, which we’re normally taught to idealize. Catherine for whom the rules of society are a trap. catherine who demands control over herself. Catherine who rejects the rules of the queens’ competition when they restrict her. Catherine must be Janus, self-preservation and self-care, who feels restricted and endangered by the rules of society, who dismisses Patton’s urge to help those in need with a “yeah, sure, whatever, if that’s your thing,” who pushes Thomas to be true to himself.

But then again, Catherine who “built a future in her mind” with her love. Catherine who loves art in all its forms, and consumes and creates it with abandon. Catherine who wants to tell her story on her own terms after being silenced for so long. Catherine must be Roman, endlessly creative, romantic daydreamer, struggling with balancing his wants with Thomas's needs and feeling silenced because of it.

But then again, Catherine who writes, and is scholarly. Catherine who fights for equality and takes steps within her power to make specific differences. Catherine who champions education for women. Catherine who cannot stand being boxed in and made to be less than she truly is. Catherine who bottles up her rage at the unfairness of it all for as long as she can. Catherine whose feelings are pushed aside. Catherine must be Logan, the teacher, who pushes his emotions aside until he cannot hold them back anymore, who feels like he is not seen for who he is, who cares deeply about things being fair and equitable, who outlines action steps, who always asks more questions.

The queens are each multi-faceted characters full of depth—they’re human, gorgeously and heartwrenchingly so. It makes sense that there are multiple Sides that could easily fit into each of their roles, and I haven’t even covered every possible interpretation. There are dozens of possible lineups to come up with here, each that I love to think about. What’s your favorite? I’d love to hear.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #six the musical #ts sides #six broadway #long post #virgil sanders #janus sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #peregrin said a thing

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reaperkaneki · 4 years

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thinking about how... early-game claude openly presents himself as suspicious and scheming and manipulative, full of secrets while endlessly prying into other peoples’ secrets he has no business knowing. and he is, he is all of those things. but it’s not in the way you’d expect.

he schemes and manipulates not for his own personal gain, but for his lofty idealist goals (this is khalid “end racism” von riegan we’re talking about, biracial king—literally). he sets his own desires aside for the sake of those goals—most of his paired endings, after all, require his LI to wait for him to finish his business in almyra. unlike edelgard, who wages war to kickstart her revolution, claude’s weapon of choice is politics, shots from the dark, quiet and without violence (and to edelgard’s credit, war is usually quicker and more tangible than politics). he’s not after power for power’s sake—he relinquishes his seat in the alliance relatively quickly, after all, and can even abdicate from the almyran throne in some of his paired endings. no, he’s specifically after change—he’s the king of unification, all he wants to do is ‘bridge the gap’ and create a world without racism and xenophobia.

i really like that, despite being from a “warlike country” or whatever, claude is the least likely to resort to violence. and he’s always almost apologetic, despite his resolve, as he shoots down his enemies. this is absolutely in contrast to dimitri and edelgard—the former being violent to an excess, his very first course of action, and the latter being resigned to it, believing it’s the only true course of action.

subsequently, claude’s the least likely character to die! (which is great, because as i’ve said before, if i had to pick between finishing the crimson flower route and claude, i’d pick claude) he’s a graceful loser, knows when to bow out, either tries to team up with dimitri (before getting shrugged off in vw) or at least doesn’t oppose him (in am), and does plead with edelgard to set down her weapons in the final fight against her (obviously not). which is apparently a cultural dissonance thing—as long as you’re alive, you haven’t completely lost, versus the fodlan’s bullshit chivalry (looking at you glenn). and claude is... well, he cares about fodlan, cares about a lot of places, but he has his sights set on something bigger, so he... yeets back to almyra cuz, uh, fodlan is wack. you could call that cowardly, and i guess it is, but tbf that’s after five and a half years of in-fighting during a three-sided war. he stuck around a decent amount.

this isn’t even going into his character development of needing to be distrustful of everyone around him due to his upbringing, and still eventually finding it in himself to trust byleth—regardless of what route you’re playing! in verdant wind, well, that’s his route, but if you need an example, the final fight with nemesis relies on byleth and his coordinated attack. in azure moon, he gambles on byleth responding to his plea for help, despite reports of dimitri’s instability. and in crimson flower, he begs for his life, automatically assuming byleth knows who he is and will spare him. of the three lords, he’s the one who believed in byleths return the most: dimitri thinks they’re a hallucination and gets angry, edelgard is shocked and overjoyed and teary, but claude grins and tells them they’ve overslept. real funny for the guy who called himself the embodiment of distrust and shiftiness incarnate.

anyway this has been my ‘stan king khalid of almyra, also known as claude von riegan former leader of the fodlan leicester alliance, master tactician, king of unification, and biracial legend’ manifesto, every bit of which has been a post i’ve already made but since i’m in 3h hell again i spontaneously wrote it again

#i wrote this while waiting for the water to boil for my tea but finishing it ive finished my cup...

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meta-squash · 3 years

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Brick Club 1.4.2 “First Sketch of Two Equivocal Faces”

Time to meet the two least likable characters in this book, after Tholomyes. Mme Victurnien and Bamatabois try, but they can’t beat the Thenardier parents for slime factor.

The Thenardiers are animals (cats specifically) before we ever get to know them as people. Also I think this is one of the only instances where Hugo frames cats in a truly negative light? Usually cats are Liberty and Revolution and also Secret Lions. This time they’re cunning creatures taking advantage of a tiny mouse.

Hugo making quick work of some Class Opinions here. Hugo is describing this sort of in-between class, a limbo between middle and lower, made up of two types of people, of which I assume both Thenardiers are the former. When he compares them to the working class and the bourgeoisie, it’s about what they don’t have. I’m guessing that by “generous impulses” of the worker, he means solidarity? Working class people were/are more likely to help each other and engage in mutual aid, at least to a larger extent than others. Unless he’s emphasizing impulses, in which case maybe it’s more about being reckless? FMA says the bourgeois have “respectability”; Hapgood calls it “honest order.” Either way, that seems to be referencing a more “polite society,” a set of expected characteristics or behaviors and a certain level of success or money. I don’t know. It’s weird. Hugo’s class opinions are complicated and I don’t think I understand enough about French class history and culture to properly analyze all of this.

“There are souls that, crablike, crawl continually toward darkness, going backward in life rather than advancing, using their experience to increase their deformity, growing continually worse, and becoming steeped more and more thoroughly in an intensifying viciousness.”

I can’t help but think about Valjean here. Javert isn’t Valjean’s opposite, he’s Valjean’s weird parallel. Thenardier is Valjean’s opposite. Valjean is a soul that climbs towards the light despite spending so long in darkness, while Thenardier crawls towards darkness. In the moments when Valjean is actively working to become better, Thenardier is simultaneously actively becoming worse. After rescuing Cosette, Hugo mentions that Valjean had been on the brink of falling back into old habits and instincts from prison, but Cosette rehabilitated him and reminded him to work towards being good. At the same time, the Thenardiers are presumably falling into poverty and in the process of losing their inn. Later, Valjean decides to teach Cosette charity and bring her with him to help the poor. I think in general he is, at this point, doing more charity work than ever before. Thenardier kidnaps him and tries to hold him for ransom; in the process he also destroys parts of his own home. When Valjean saves Marius, after an active effort to realize that he needs to sacrifice to make Cosette happy, Thenardier is in the sewers stealing from corpses (or presumed corpses, anyway). As Valjean is dying, again sacrificing himself for what he thinks will be the good of Cosette, Thenardier is trying to trick Marius into doubting Valjean’s goodness and reputation, and trying to get money out of him. As Valjean dies loved and good, Thenardier goes to America to become a slave trader. Valjean and Javert’s entire lives run parallel to each other; Thenardier is like a perpendicular line that they both end up crossing at the same time each time. Thenardier is Valjean’s opposite in that he embodies exactly what Valjean had the potential to become.

Hugo says “We only have to look at some men to distrust them” and I wonder if that’s part of why we don’t actually see M Thenardier until now. The entire scene last chapter was full of all these bad omens and ominous imagery, so we were already suitably aware of the danger. Only, now we’re getting a real grasp and a true description of the reality of that danger for Cosette.

I really like that we get the line “he knew how to do a little of everything--all badly” because it’s yet another way in which he is Valjean’s opposite. Valjean knows how to do a little of everything as well, only he manages to do those things well and to succeed.

Hugo talks about Mme Thenardier’s love of trashy romance novels and throws in a bunch of references, conveniently in chronological order. Clelie goes with Mlle de Scuderi; Madeleine de Scudery wrote her novel Clelie (10 volumes!) in the mid 1600s. As far as I can tell, Clelie is about the siege of Rome and the romances between a bunch of different characters, and it’s very elaborate with a lot of long conversations. She used Roman/Persian/Greek characters as a thinly veiled disguise for contemporary society figures and political commentary. Lodoiska was a 1791 opera based on the novel Les Amours du Chevalier de Faublas by Jean Baptiste Louvet du Couvray. The opera (and presumably the novel) is a classic story of a nobleman rescuing his fiancee from a man who has kidnapped and wants to marry her. There isn’t much I could find on Mme Barthelemy-Hadot, except that she wrote melodramas in the early 19th century. Mme de Lafayette wrote La Princesse de Cleves, a highly realistic psychological novel, in the mid-1600s. She also wrote La Princesse de Monpensier, which was a prototype for the historical novel. There’s not much on Charlotte Bournon-Malarme, except that she was a writer in the late 1700s. Hugo is criticizing the chronological downturn of classic “romance” novels, how they’ve gone from realism and critique to dumbed-down adventure novels. It seems as though Mme Thenardier fills her time and her head with the latter.

Okay I’m not sure if I’m going to interpret the “Mégère parted company with Pamela” line right, because it might be a detail from a romance novel that I just can’t catch because I haven’t read romances from the 17th/18th century. However, I do know that Mégère was one of the Furies, the “jealous one,” and can be slang for a jealous or spiteful woman. The Pamela reference is a little bit harder, since there were two popular Pamela-based novels, but what I’m guessing at is that as Mme Thenardier aged and became less fierce and jealous all the time, she was just a woman who had been forced to marry a man 15 years older than her, who didn’t think much and was boring. I’m really not sure.

I can’t find much on Guillame Pigault-Lebrun, except that he was a fairly popular novelist during the Empire, whose quality flagged during the Restoration. He also apparently wrote some anti-Christian works, which seems to make sense for M Thenardier.

First of all, “the anarchy of baptismal names” is a fantastic band name.

So, from what I can figure out, pre-Revolution, a baby was named after a saint whose name was associated with the day of birth. For example, my birthday is April 14, so I would have been Ludivine. (I’m not sure what happens if someone’s birthday falls on a day with an opposite-gender saint associated with it. Did they just masculinize/feminize the name?) The French Revolution, as well as doing away with the old calendar, also did away with this tradition. People were now allowed to name their children (or themselves, if they did the paperwork) whatever they wanted. In 1803, this law was changed, and from what I can tell, you could either name your children the names of (Catholic) saints, or the names of people from classical/ancient history.

I’m not really sure how the Thenardiers got around this law, at least for Azelma. Epona is a Celtic goddess. Euphrasia was a saint from the 4th century. I have no idea what Azelma is. I suppose that’s the “anarchy” indicated. But maybe I’m missing something? Please someone correct me if I got stuff wrong.

Anyway, Hugo praises these changes as an aspect of equality. People aren’t restricted to the few names associated with their name day. They can branch out. Anyone can have the more “elegant” names associated with the classical/ancient history names, even workingmen. It’s also something that can’t be chiseled away like the Ns on buildings or removed like statues. People with those weird names from the decade they were allowed are living, breathing proof of the progress of the Revolution and force people around them to confront the fact that it happened, even if they’re back to celebrating the Restoration. Yet another minor but weirdly significant ripple of change.

#les miserables #les miserables meta #brickclub #lm 1.4.2 #les mis #les mis meta #maybe a little shorter than the last one?#maybe? but probably not

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jackoshadows · 4 years

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One of the reasons for why I love Jon Snow in the books is because I find him to be the character who adheres closest to values I find admirable. IMO, Character traits like being broad-minded, intelligent and loyal tend to be more attractive in a character rather than than say good looks or good manners. Jon is selfless and honorable - to a certain extent. He can be pragmatic and bend the rules if necessary.

Jon Snow stands out as the only leader/main character in the series whose central narrative theme is about unifying people against a common threat. This is underscored by GRRM sending him off to the wall at the start of the books and Jeor Mormont telling Jon Snow:

When dead men coming hunting in the night, do you think it matters who sits on the Iron Throne - Jon Snow, AGoT

With this in mind, we see Jon continually grow as a character from book one to book five gradually killing the boy to let the man be born.

When we first see him at the wall, he’s a bit of a privileged brat and offended by the other recruits. But after Donal Nye sets him straight, he uses his education and knowledge to help the other kids in the NW. Jon grew up otherizing the Wildlings and saw them as people to be kept on the other side of the wall. He then spends a lot of time with them and comes to see them as human beings same as him and the rest of Westeros. He wants his childhood desire of being Lord of Winterfell, but understands that he swore an oath to the NW and his job is to defend the realm.

There are two quotes that embody Jon Snow best in the books:

‘You know nothing, Jon Snow’ – First used by Ygritte to educate Jon Snow on his ignorance about Wildlings and then later used by Lord Commander Jon Snow to remind himself that he still has a lot to learn even as a leader of men. A take on Socrates ‘I know that I know nothing’ – a humble acknowledgment that even the best leaders are not experts but human beings who can mistakes.

‘We look up at the same stars and see such different things’ - Jon is able to understand that two people can see the same thing and have such different opinions and that their opinions are colored by their upbringing and situation. As someone who has to unite people against a common threat, this is an important understanding that Jon has earned – this could be why he is a damn good negotiator in the books, earning praise from even Stannis.

Jon is able to acknowledge these important little lessons because he is at heart a fundamentally good person. We see this in how he treats characters who are disadvantaged and mistreated by Westeros society. These are not big moments but small character relationships that highlight how Jon Snow often stands out in thinking differently to a majority of Westeros.

Jon Snow as a child comforting Arya when she comes crying to him about being a possible bastard because of her looks. Imagine how much this would have hurt? But he loves Arya enough to put aside his own hurt feelings to reassure her.

Once he gets to know Tyrion personally and differentiates him from the rest of the Lannisters, Jon is quickly able to see past appearances and Westerosi prejudices and considers Tyrion a friend:

He ran back to the common hall , where he found Tyrion Lannister just finishing his meal. He grabbed the little man under the arms, hoisted him up in the air, and spun him around in a circle. “Bran is going to live!” he whooped. - Jon, AGoT

Asks Tyrion to comfort and help Bran in whatever way possible. This is in contrast to Robb’s immediate dislike and distrust of Tyrion. Jon judges a person based on their actions.

“Thank you, my lord of Lannister.” He pulled off his glove and offered his bare hand. “Friend.”

Tyrion found himself oddly touched. “Most of my kin are bastards,” he said with a wry smile, “but you’re the first I’ve had to friend.” - Tyrion, AGoT

Realizes how Sam Tarly is ill equipped to fight, figures out what Sam is best suited to do, talks to Maester Aemon about it and arranges for Sam to work for the Maester instead.

Appoints Satin Flowers, a former male prostitute from OldTown as his steward despite opposition from his bigoted department heads. And he does this, because once again, he judges based on a person’s actions and skills, rather than on the labels society places on them

“My Lord, the boy’s a whore...a...dare I say... a painted catamite from the brothels of Old Town”

“What he was in Oldtown is none of our concern. He’s quick to learn and very clever. The other recruits started out despising him, but he won them over and made friends of them all. He’s fearless in a fight and can even read and write after a fashion. He should be capable of fetching me my meals and saddling my horse, don’t you think?”

“Most like,” said Bowen Marsh, stony-faced, “but the men do not like it. Traditionally the lord commander’s squires are lads of good birth being groomed for command. Does my lord believe the men of the Night’s Watch would ever follow a whore into battle?”

Jon’s temper flashed. “They have followed worse. The Old Bear left a few cautionary notes about certain of the men, for his successor. We have a cook at the Shadow Tower who was fond of raping septas. He burned a seven-pointed star into his flesh for every one he claimed. His left arm is stars from wrist to elbow, and stars mark his calves as well. At Eastwatch we have a man who set his father’s house afire and barred the door. His entire family burned to death, all nine. Whatever Satin may have done in Oldtown, he is our brother now, and he will be my squire.”

Jon appoints Leathers of the Freefolk as his Master-at-arms once again, against objections from the likes of Cellador and Bowen

Bowen: Is it true that you mean to replace Emmett with this savage Leathers as our master-at-arms? That is an office most oft reserved for knights, or rangers at the least.

Jon: Leathers is savage. I can attest to that. I've tried him in the practice yard. He's as dangerous with a stone axe as most knights are with castle-forged steel. I grant you, he is not as patient as I'd like, and some of the boys are terrified of him ... but that's not all for the bad. One day they'll find themselves in a real fight, and a certain familiarity with terror will serve them well

The Freefolk women: Jon sees them as capable and equal in all ways to the men. He sends Val off all alone to find Tormund. He garrisons Long Barrow fully with Spearwives, entrusting them to defend that castle and the wall.

And we find that Jon is hungry for knowledge, and in his spare time he learns the Old Tongue from Leathers so that he can communicate with the giant Wun-Wun. He is always reading the books Maester Aemon left him, conducting science experiments on wights and even thinks of building a green house on the Gift to grow food. Once again, Jon acknowledges the importance of learning that he picked up from characters like Aemon, Sam and Tyrion.

I have a realistic grasp of my own strengths and weaknesses. My mind is my weapon. My brother has his sword, King Robert has his warhammer, and I have my mind.. and a mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone, if it is to keep its edge.” Tyrion tapped the leather cover of the book. “That’s why I read so much, Jon Snow.” - Tyrion, AGoT

There’s a reason for why Jon’s so good at what he does. Look at the people from whom he learns – Ned Stark, Tyrion Lannister, Jeor Mormont, Donal Noye, Qhorin Half-hand, Maester Aemon, Samwell Tarly, Mance Raydar, Stannis Baratheon etc. Every one of these men gives him a tidbit of information that he ends up using in the books.

Jon is very astute and has a deep understanding of the way the North and people in general work:

"The free folk despise kneelers," he had warned Stannis. "Let them keep their pride, and they will love you better." Soon or late, however, Tormund Giantsbane would assault the Wall again, and when that hour came Jon wondered whose side Stannis's new-made subjects would choose. You can give them land and mercy, but the free folk choose their own kings. - Jon, ADwD

Early on he advises Stannis to go with the Umbers instead of the Karstarks. Later we see his advice hold true as the Karstarks betray Stannis while Mors Crowfood allies with him. He also advises Stannis to approach Manderly – a decision that once again works out right. He explains to Stannis in clear detail how to approach the mountain clans for help

“And they will fight for me, you believe?”

“If you ask them.”

“Why should I beg for what is owed me?”

“Ask, I said, not beg.” Jon pulled back his hand. “It is no good sending messages. Your Grace will need to go to them yourself. Eat their bread and salt, drink their ale, listen to their pipers, praise the beauty of their daughters and the courage of their sons, and you’ll have their swords. The clans have not seen a king since Torrhen Stark bent his knee. Your coming does them honor. Command them to fight for you, and they will look at one another and say, ‘Who is this man? He is no king of mine.’ ”

In a way, it makes sense that Jon tries to see the humanity of people, tries to teach them, weeds out talent and designates based on merit and skillset – he works with the lowest of the lowest. He’s the military head of a group of outlaws, murderers, rapists, bigots, smallfolk with no education or access to education. He has to be able to see beyond labels to get this ragtag bunch ready to face an apocalyptic threat.

Contrast this Jon Snow to Jaime Lannister in AFfC who hangs some outlaws in the Riverlands and then proudly calls himself ‘Goldenhand the Just’ for meting out ‘justice’, failing to even acknowledge that those hungry outlaws were created by his war – a war that started because of his incestuous adultery.

To conclude, Jon Snow ending an 8000 year old feud between the north and the freefolk, bringing them over to this side of the wall, including them in the realms of men, making real alliances between old Northern houses and the freefolk epitomizes what Jon Snow stands for as a character in the books.

There’s a reason for why GRRM describes Jon Snow thus:

Jon Snow is the truest character--I like his sense of realism and the way he copes with his bastardy.

#Jon Snow #ASoIaF #A Song of Ice and Fire

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angsty-aliens · 4 years

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Truck Stop Knives And Other Accessories of Childhood

The fic isn’t finished yet, but it should be soon so I’ve started posting it on Ao3.

***

A little boy stood with his back against the wall, one hand hidden in a pocket, heaving panicked breaths. His jeans were worn through at the knees, with frayed bottoms where they dangled a bit too long. His shirt was a solid blue with small holes near the neck and slightly faded, like a hand-me-down of a hand-me-down. He had an oversized grey hoodie with grime encrusted elbows and a mysterious stain on the front. Ketchup? Blood? His entire ensemble gave the impression of being discarded, an after-thought. Nothing chosen by him, everything chosen for him and without much care.

Liz took one step closer and he plastered himself flat to the wall, nowhere else to go. His eyes were wide and flickered back and forth, trying to track every possible threat at once and finding the number of threats to be overwhelming. He looked like a trapped animal ready to gnaw off his own leg for a chance at freedom.

She raised her hands and spoke gently, “hey… hey it’s okay. You’re okay. No one’s gonna hurt you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Liz took a cautious step forward and the little boy's hand clenched into a fist inside his jeans pocket.

Michael watched this exchange and warned, “Don’t touch him Liz.”

Liz didn’t let her eyes leave the boy, “He’s your inner child, Michael. He’s adorable.”

“My inner child will stab you.”

She spun around at that, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Michael just shrugged, “His hand is in his right pocket. There’s a switchblade there. I stole it from a truck stop when I was ten. Blue handle. Keep stepping closer and I’m sure he’ll show it to you.”

The little boy looked at Michael with betrayal and the older man just raised an eyebrow, “Don’t stab my friends.”

Liz took a step back and the kid took a shuddering breath but unpeeled himself from the wall. He was still ready to run, but looked less likely to make anyone bleed to do it.

This was the stupidest lab accident Michael Guerin had ever been in, and he was the idiot who let Liz inject him with various science projects like a lab rat. He’d found something alien buried out near the pods and brought it back to the bunker under the airstream to investigate. He’d been so careful not to touch it with his bare hands. They’d had the artifact for days. Long enough for Alex to run some programs to try and translate the sigils covering the flat shimmering disk. Long enough for Liz to swab, looking to break down the chemical components of the artifact. All Alex was able to translate was “memory,” “child,” and “temporary.” They were all just educated guesses, but considering there was a tiny version of Michael Guerin standing in his bunker because he touched the disk and without thinking, pressed it to his forehead like it was muscle memory… Michael was pretty sure that translation was correct. He had a physical embodiment of his inner child standing in his lab, ready to stab Liz. Perfect, must be Tuesday.

Michael took a great heaving sigh and forced himself to walk towards the kid who was scowling, and who’s hand was definitely still in his pocket, fisted around the knife. “Do you know who I am?”

The boy pressed his lips together tightly and glared up at him.

“Okay, so we’re gonna rip this off like a bandaid. I’m you, but 28 years old. There was an accident and you… manifested. No we’re not messing with you. You’re an alien. You can drink acetone. Max and Isobel are also aliens.” Michael telekinetically ripped the switchblade out of the kid’s pocket and floated it into his hand. “Believe me?”

The boy’s eyes widened as he watched his weapon float away and Michael slapped a palm over his face, “shit I forgot we didn’t develop the TK until we were twelve. Um, yeah, spoiler alert, that’s a thing you can do.”

Michael slipped the knife into his pocket. Better not to have the kid armed right now. Liz examined the alien disk while being careful not to touch it. “So he’s a construct of your memory? He’s not like literally you from the past? We’re not going to alter the future, right?”

“I promise to let you know if I turn into Marty McFly, but I don’t think I’ll be disappearing from any photographs soon. I mean this thing didn’t come with a users manual, at least not one we can read. But I think he’s me… but you know, shorter.”

Liz watched from a respectful distance, “mijo, how old are you?” She whispered to Michael, “he’s tiny.” With a great bellowing voice the kid shouted, “I’m ELEVEN and you’re UGLY.”

He bolted, but Michael just grabbed him around the waist and hauled him up before he reached the ladder. “Fun. Great, we’re like one big happy family. Ugh, but seriously why am I so little? I thought eleven year olds were bigger. I FELT bigger.” He held the kid out in front of him, dodging kicking feet. “I mean Isobel was always taller than me, but I could have sworn me and Max were the same size. Is this what eleven year olds are supposed to look like?”

Liz smacked the back of Michael’s head, “put him down. He clearly doesn’t like being told he’s small.” She turned to the still squirming child and said in a slow syrupy voice, “I’m sorry, you’re not small. We’re just not used to kids. We don’t know how big eleven year olds are supposed to be. I’m sure you’re a very big eleven year old.”

The kid just glared and tried to kick her while still dangling in the air. Michael gave him a shake in retaliation.

“Michael Guerin,” Liz hissed, “you will not shake him. What’s the matter with you? He’s a kid.”

He shrugged, “he’s not a real kid. He’s me. And it’s not like it hurts. If I whack him, then you can yell at me.”

Liz was scandalized, “you’re not gonna WHACK him.”

Michael rolled his eyes, “of course I’m not gonna whack him. But I’m also not gonna let him kick you.”

“And he IS a real kid. I mean, this might be a temporary thing. Maybe a therapy tool? You have to learn to love your inner child or something? But he is real.”

The two Michaels gave each other distrustful looks. Liz didn’t get it. Michael had never been a real kid. He was the changeling stuck in other people’s nests. He may have looked like a kid but he was never real. His foster parents understood that. There were good kids with parents who loved them unconditionally. And then there was Michael Guerin, who got left behind and never got picked. But Michael did remember what it felt like to be physically restrained by someone bigger, and so with a stern look he put down his younger self. “Do NOT kick Liz. Do not stab Liz. Maybe don’t even look at Liz. Stop being a little shit.” “I’m calling Alex. You’re terrible with children.” Liz threw her hands up, “I don’t get it, I’ve seen you interact with kids before and you’ve always been so nice, Michael. You’ve been gentle and patient. I don’t understand why you’re not giving Mikey the same care.” “Mikey?” They both asked her in unison.

Liz shrugged, “it’s easier than calling you Big Michael and Little…” She quickly corrected herself, “Younger Michael.”

She mused, “Maybe I should call Isobel and Max too. Kyle? Should we get Kyle to check him out?”

Mikey was eyeballing the ladder again and Michael just put one careful hand on his shoulder to discourage the impulse. “Do not call Kyle. Mini-me never actually stabbed a grown up. I just kept the knife to scare away fellow foster kids mostly. But if you call a doctor, the kid will freak out.”

“I won’t freak out. I don’t freak out.” The kid grumbled, deeply offended.

“Yeah? What happened when the Lees took you to that shitty pediatrician when you were eight?” Michael narrowed his eyes at the scowling eleven year old.

The kid announced proudly, “I bit him.”

“You bit him.” Michael added, “And we got our asses roasted when we got home.”

Mikey protested, “No doctors! You know no doctors!”

“Yeah. No doctors. Can’t let anyone know the secret. And yes, throwing an absolute fit every time we were supposed to get a booster shot meant foster parents generally didn’t try to take us. But Kyle already knows. I can give you a list of the grown ups who know. Obviously we’re not announcing it and having an Alien Pride Parade but we have some people who know now.”

Michael turned to Liz, “but we still shouldn’t have them all show up at once. Even I don’t like being in a room with that many people and I’m not an artificial construct of my inner traumatic childhood.”

The kid muttered, “you’re an artificial construct of my farts.”

“Call either Alex, or Isobel and Max. I don’t care which. But not your whole Scooby Gang.”

***

After several attempts to reconnect the Michaels by having them both hold the artifact, they ended up in Max’s living room. It was decided that the bunker was too small and the airstream was definitely too small and it’d just be easier to meet someplace a little further from town where no one would show up for an oil change and see a kid who shouldn’t exist.

The two Michaels sat on the couch as Liz, Max, and Isobel stood in front of them with arms crossed. Michael was starting to feel like a specimen, and Mikey sunk lower on the couch, once again feeling like an inconvenient piece of trouble.

Max broke the silence, “Well this is certainly Michael when we first met him.” He crouched down and said in an awkwardly soft voice, “heeeey buddy. I’m Max. Do you remember me?”

Michael rolled his eyes and whispered to his younger self, “don’t stab Max either.”

With that reminder of their first meeting, Max stood up and took a safer step back. Both Michaels chuckled conspiratorially. Isobel was more pragmatic, “Okay so we’re going to need clothing, a toothbrush, pajamas… What size clothing are you? Mikey? Ugh Liz, that’s a terrible nickname. Mikey, stand up so I can check your sizes and make a list. This is also the time to make any requests, or I’ll finally get to give my little brother…”

“Not your little brother!” Michael interrupted.

Isobel continued, “Give my little brother the makeover I’ve always wanted to.”

The kid found himself bullied up to his feet and Isobel began reaching into his shirt to check for a label. Mikey tolerated it until she spun him around to check for the label in the back of his pants. When she started to raise his shirt and grab at his waistband, he jerked away.

Isobel stepped away with hands raised in surrender. “Sorry. I’m sorry Mikey. You can tell me your sizes later. I… Honey, who hurt you? Your back…”

Michael found himself standing in front of the kid to placate his siblings, “Iz, you know I was with the religious fundamentalists. Leave the kid alone.”

Isobel protested, “I didn’t know they hurt you like that. Michael, his back…”

Michael turned back to the kid, matter of factly, “Hey Mikey, do you wanna talk about this?”

“Fuck no.”

“There’s your answer, Iz.”

Isobel looked torn between reprimanding the boy on his language, and trying to pry further. Max eventually took his sister’s elbow and led her to the kitchen where they could whisper furiously about all of Michael’s childhood traumas and pretend no one could hear them.

Liz twisted her hands, “soooo… are you hungry? I could make pancakes.”

Michael rolled his eyes, “it’s 4pm, Liz.” Liz replied, “Everytime is a good time for pancakes, Michael.”

Mikey interjected, “Look, if the lady wants to make pancakes, let her make pancakes.”

Grateful to have a task, Liz disappeared into the kitchen where she could join Michael’s meddling siblings in whispering about them.

Michael flung himself back on the couch with a dramatic sigh, and Mikey joined him. They stared at Max’s empty fireplace, carefully not making eye contact.

“So where do you want to stay tonight? We can crash with Max, or I can maybe call my... friend, Alex. Alex has a cabin and he won’t be weird about this. Maybe. Hopefully he won’t be weird about this.”

The kid shrugged.

Michael swallowed, “what’s wrong with your back?”

Kid stared intently at the fireplace and shrugged again, “switch.”

Michael closed his eyes and nodded. “Yeah.”

It felt like no time passed at all before Max, Isobel, and Liz came out of the kitchen, which was an open concept kitchen and a terrible place to try and whisper about Michael’s childhood trauma. Michael gave them an unimpressed look to try and convey that thought through some artful eyebrow lifting. Isobel just shrugged, completely unrepentant. Liz had made pancakes as promised and they gathered around the dining room table. Mikey already had a hand out, pancake almost in reach. “Wash hands first!” Liz pulled the plate back.

Michael smirked and reached for the pancakes, “Yeah, kid, go wash your hands.”

The plate shifted again and Liz poked him in the chest, “¿Qué estás haciendo? Animals, all of you. Go wash your hands. Didn’t anyone teach you manners?” Michael couldn’t catch the rapid fire spanish that followed, but he was pretty sure she called him a filthy vulture. With mutual grumbling, they went to the kitchen to scrub up. When they returned to the table, the other adults were already eating having previously washed their hands. They left two chairs open for them between Liz and Isobel sitting at either end of the table. Max sat across from them, and continued to stare at the little boy with doe eyes. Michael was finding the whole thing extremely irritating, and based on Mikey’s rhythmic kicking at his chair, the kid was equally uncomfortable. Michael made the boy a plate with three pancakes and plenty of syrup before grabbing his own stack. Liz watched in horror as they both rolled a pancake up like a burrito and shoved it in their faces. There were going to be sticky handprints everywhere, little child sized ones, and big adult sized ones. Ridiculous. Isobel cleared her throat, “so… Mikey, do you want to tell us more about your foster placement?”

Michael looked up from his second pancake burrito and warned, “Iz. Leave it.”

Isobel protested, “Michael, I don’t see why it’s a big secret. We should be able to talk about these things.”

With a huff, Michael shoved the entire pancake into his mouth and wiped at his sticky hands before gesturing for his sister to follow him to Max’s bedroom. The kid just watched this exchange in silence as he kicked at the rungs of his chair, and took another giant bite. Maybe he could fit one of the dry pancakes in his pocket. If it didn’t have syrup on it, it’d probably stay good for at least a day.

Michael closed the door behind them, because unlike his siblings he knew how to meddle without being heard by the whole room.

“Iz, I know you’re concerned but not only does he not want to talk about this with you, but I don’t really want to talk about it either. I didn’t share and care as a kid ON PURPOSE.” She threw her hands up in frustration, “Why wouldn’t you have told us it was this bad though? We could have done something!”

“What were you going to do? Tell your parents? They weren’t going to come in and rescue me. They didn’t want me at seven, they weren’t going to want me at eleven. Were you going to tell the cops? Because they also didn’t really care. Only thing that maybe would have happened is I’d’ve gotten a new placement, and that could have been anywhere. It took four years for me to get to Roswell. I wasn’t going to whine about some bruises and get shipped back to Albuquerque. I know I wasn’t warm and fuzzy to you and Max at first, but I still didn’t want to leave.” “You could have still talked about it. Even if we couldn’t do anything, you shouldn’t have had to keep it a secret.” “I talked sometimes, and it always freaked you both out. I didn’t… I don’t want to be someone you pity.” Michael snapped, “Lots of people have shitty childhoods. They get over it. It’s not a big deal.”

Isobel gave him a displeased look. “Okay but Mikey could talk about it. You think the disk may have been a therapy tool. Maybe he NEEDS to talk about it. Just because you chose to keep it a secret as a kid, doesn’t mean you should have kept it a secret. And you don’t need to keep it a secret now. I’m not going to pity you Michael. You’re far too annoying for me to pity. I can be mad people hurt you without it being pity.” “Mikey…” Michael shuddered, “I hate that nickname and I’m annoyed it’s actually useful here. Mikey, can talk to me. It’s MY therapy. Even if it is therapy. I wish I never touched the damn thing. I thought I was so good putting up a mask as a kid, and obviously I sucked at it and it’s just adults didn’t care. He’s a walking, talking open wound and I’d rather everyone not get to examine all my childhood traumas. You wouldn’t enjoy a little Isobel walking around so we can all remember how scared you were of not being perfect.” She socked his shoulder, “I wasn’t scared of not being perfect.” “If we had a little Isobel here, I’m pretty sure you’d see and EVERYONE would see you were very, very scared of not being perfect.” He gave her a pointed look, “It’s not fun being under a microscope. Can we just… not? Kid literally manifested like an hour ago. Lets not force him into group therapy right now.”

Isobel inhaled deeply and raised an eyebrow, “fine. I’ll stop asking for now. But we’re having a conversation about this later, the two of us. I thought we all agreed, no more secrets.”

Michael laughed, “My childhood isn’t a secret. I’m surprised I didn’t win “Most Tragic Orphan” in the school year book. You and Max knew, I just didn’t give you the unabridged epic version. You got the cliff notes and that’s all you’re getting. Leave my little clone alone.”

Isobel in true, queen bee splendor, fixed her brother with a considering gaze before sauntering out of the room like this whole thing was her idea to begin with. Michael trailed behind her as they rejoined the table. Max announced in an awed whisper, “He’s eaten six pancakes.”

Michael beamed proudly as the kid licked syrup off his palm.

Before long, Max was on dish duty as Liz tried to wipe the kid down with a wet cloth while he squirmed, “I’m eleven, lady. I know how to wash my own face!”

She attacked a particularly sticky spot on his cheek, “Unfortunately for you I know Michael Guerin as an adult and if I don’t trust an adult Michael Guerin to properly remove syrup, I definitely don’t trust you.”

Both Guerins gave her an outraged look, but Liz was an expert at ignoring people and she just kept scrubbing the kid’s face. Without moving her gaze from the boy’s cheek, she dictated to Guerin senior, “You better wash your hands before you touch anything. I can’t believe you two didn’t use a knife and fork. Pancakes are not finger food.”

Michael rolled his eyes, but obediently went to wash his face and hands. He even submitted to Liz’s inspection afterwards to make sure he did an adequate job. His younger half seemed delighted that someone else was receiving Liz’s attention. In a fit of true maturity, Michael flipped off his younger half and while Liz was distracted being scandalized, Mikey made sure to flip him off right back.

Now that basic necessities were taken care of, Michael needed to figure out a place to stash the kid. The airstream was too small. Michael knew he could make it work anyway. He never expected anything fancy as a kid, and he hardly ever had his own room. Crashing in a sleeping bag on the floor wouldn’t be the end of the world by a long shot, but despite that, Michael wanted to give the kid a better experience than that. Max would die from doe eyes if they attempted to crash here. Michael could already feel Max’s overwhelming sense of guilt, and it was exhausting. The idea of being here without Liz and Isobel as a buffer was excruciating. Staying with Isobel? No. Too nosy. And asking to crash with Liz at the Crashdown wasn’t even an option. Arturo could sniff out an orphan a mile away and Michael needed to keep his little mini-me far away from mainstreet. Maria was also out of the question. They were still friends despite the breakup, but The Wild Pony was too close to town and a bar was no place for the kid. Alex was the only real option left. His house had more space, but was in the center of town. But the cabin was far enough away from main roads that hopefully Mikey wouldn’t get the urge to hitchhike to Foster’s Ranch at 2am. It was small, but the couch was comfortable enough, and Michael could trust Alex not to see this as an opportunity to dig into Michael’s past. He understood the importance of secrets.

With that decided, Michael sent him a text trying to explain the situation. He knew Alex wouldn’t turn him away. They may not be together anymore, but they were still friends. At least trying to be friends. With that in mind, he collected Mikey from the clutches of Isobel.

“I promise you can torment us both later. But I need to grab clothes from the airstream, and we’re crashing with Alex. You can drop off essentials tonight, or tomorrow. Whatever’s easier. It’s Saturday so Walmart will be open late.”

Michael steered the kid towards his truck while waving vaguely in the direction of his siblings and Liz.

As he drove off, the kid asked, “it’s Saturday?”

“Yeah, and I made Iz promise not to go crazy with the clothing. She owes me so many favors. Don’t worry about it. I fixed her instapot last week. Do you know what an instapot is?” The kid shook his head and Michael shrugged, “yeah me neither. But I fixed it. So she owes me. And we’re literally the same person, so she owes you too.”

At the airstream, Michael stuffed some essentials inside a ratty blue backpack. When he got back to the truck, he handed the kid two packets of peanut butter crackers. “You can eat whenever you’re hungry. No one’s locking down the kitchen. But I know I like having some emergency food anyway.” As the kid started to protest, he pulled a plastic bag out of his pocket and pressed that into the boy’s hands. “For the pancakes. So they don’t get lint on them.” Mikey glowered at him, “I don’t have pancakes in my pocket.”

Michael shrugged with feigned nonchalance, “We’re the same person, and if I were eleven and a lady made a stack of pancakes, I’d have at LEAST one in my pocket. I mean maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I didn’t get good at swiping food until I got older. Eleven is pretty young.”

The kid glared and pulled two pancakes out of his hoodie’s pocket, and shoved them into the plastic bag. “You’re old and I don’t need your help. You think you’re hilarious, but the only thing funny here is what a joke your life is.”

Michael started the engine, and refused to make eye contact. He wasn’t going to let an infant hurt his feelings. He didn’t need to prove anything. He was doing fine.

#my fic #inner child fic #roswell new mexico fic #rnm fic #michael guerin fic #michael guerin #future malex #isobel evans #max evans #liz ortecho #truck stop knives and other childhood accessories #cw child abuse #tw child abuse #feral stabby baby

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serceleste · 4 years

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star trek: tos season 1

I’ve been rewatching Star Trek: The Original Series instead of starting anything new (of course) and I have some thoughts about season 1! I love this show. Here are some random things I love.

1. Kirk and Spock wordlessly communicating. They’re in love, okay.

2. In ‘The Naked Time’, everything is falling apart, the bridge is in chaos, Kirk loses his temper, Uhura loses her temper. Then Uhura takes a breath, and she is immediately back in ultra professional mode, damn whatever she’s actually thinking and feeling. And Kirk immediately apologizes. It’s amazing.

3. I appreciate random shirtless Kirk. And that time Sulu was randomly shirtless and attacking people with a sword. (The look on the two dudes’ faces when he is brandishing his sword at them in the corridor is PRICELESS.)

4. The unicorn dog. Fave.

5. Spock playing the ka’athyra, and then Uhura sings with him, and she’s totally good-naturedly poking fun at him the whole time, and Spock accepts it with such good humor and he has no feelings my ass.

6. Obviously Kirk’s shirt tearing all the damn time, sometimes with no plausible reason. My favorite is when McCoy just rips the shoulder open to jab him with a hypo on the bridge.

7. There’s some pretty nice work done in the pilot establishing that Kirk and Mitchell have a long history and a deep friendship, and that makes what happens in the episode so much more tragic. I also love Spock’s easy acceptance of Kirk wanting the record to state that Mitchell (and Dehner) died in the line of duty.

8. Uhura competently taking over other positions on the bridge at a word from Kirk. The implication that all members of the bridge crew/senior staff have their specialties but learned all necessary functions in case of emergency is really nice. (I’ve noticed Sulu taking over navigation sometimes, too, and Scotty’s taken the helm at least once, and Kirk himself operates various positions.)

9. One of my favorite things about Star Trek is its optimism, and also the enduring sense of hopefulness and compassion it and the characters embody. In ‘Charlie X’, even after all the shit he did to them, you can see that they are nevertheless moved by Charlie’s genuine terror and Kirk tries to come up with a different solution that will help him. Or in ‘The Corbomite Maneuver’, after the alien has threatened to destroy them, and he puts out the distress call, Kirk’s response is still to help.

10. Kirk is in love with the Enterprise and the show doesn’t even try to be coy about it, it just comes right out and says so. Multiple times. <3

11. It’s clearly a product of its time and some things are... not great, but I love that it tries, and it honestly wants to portray a future where everyone is treated the same and things like race and gender don’t matter, even if it isn’t quite there in the execution of it. (Yeoman Rand in particular gets some wince-worthy moments in the first season, unfortunately.)

12. Evil!Kirk wears eyeliner, because of course he does. LMAO.

13. The green shirt! I love Kirk’s green shirt. (Actually I love the TOS uniforms in general. Best Trek uniforms, fight me.)

14. McCoy and Spock making fun of each other. <3

15. The number of times Scotty tells Kirk he needs hours/days to fix/accomplish something and Kirk is like ‘you have ten minutes’ and Scotty is just like ‘...fuck, okay’.

16. In ‘What Are Little Girls Made Of?’ Kirk sabotages his android by thinking negatively about Spock because THAT’S the thing he knows will make it clear something’s wrong. OMG. And then Spock makes fun of him for using an unsophisticated insult. Hearteyes.

17. Every time Spock calls Kirk Jim. Also, every time Kirk calls McCoy Bones.

18. Their food is hilarious, it always just looks like little colorful blocks. And their idea of futuristic fashion is completely ridiculous and also the best.

19. Kirk is so charming, but it’s so genuine, which is I think why it’s so devastating. When he’s looking at people, and smiling at them, you know he really genuinely gives a shit, and actually cares about them, and tbh I think I’d do anything he asked if he looked at me like that, lol.

20. McCoy is a gift. He’s so grumpy! And he calls everyone out on their shit, especially Kirk, and he’d never say so but he cares so goddamn much.

21. I just ship Kirk/Spock so fucking hard, OMG. Every time they interact I’m just like YESSSSSS THEY’RE FUCKING IN LOVE DAMN.

22. “Fascinating.” <33333 Oh! And the eyebrow raise! Especially when he does it at Kirk. Or McCoy.

23. Kirk’s absolute faith in Spock at the beginning of ‘The Menagerie’. It’s a bit heartbreaking, considering. And the moment you can see Spock choose Pike over Kirk, at the end of Part 1, stabs me right in the heart. And when Kirk agrees that Spock is guilty during the “trial”. (Also I love that they found a way to use the rejected pilot and turn it into what’s really a compelling pair of episodes.)

24. ‘Balance of Terror’ is so good. It’s just a battle of wills between Kirk and the Romulan commander, with how difficult the pressure of command can be for Kirk, and that look into racism with the navigator who distrusts Spock.

25. McCoy and Spock having a battle of wills over Spock needing/not needing medical attention and raising their eyebrows at each other. Love. I understand the Spock/McCoy shipping. (Speaking of, in ‘Operation Annihilate’ when McCoy doesn’t want Kirk to tell Spock he said he was the best first officer in the fleet but Spock overhears and says thank you, McCoy’s face, lmao.)

26. When they find Kirk’s brother dead in ‘Operation Annihilate’ Spock actually attempts to offer comfort!!! Also Kirk holds Spock a couple of times in that ep, it’s great.

27. Every time Spock gets offended because they’ve accused him of having a human emotion or reaction. <3333

28. I think ‘City on the Edge of Forever’ works not just because it’s a truly compelling question of not holding one life, no matter how dear, over the lives of millions, but because Edith herself is genuinely lovely. You can see the tragedy in the death of a woman like her, and the soft romance between her and Kirk is beautiful.

29. And even in the midst of what’s easily one of the strongest (if not the strongest) of Kirk’s relationships on the show, you get Edith saying that she can see that where Spock belongs is by Kirk’s side. My heart.

30. The Gorn. Come on. Iconic.

31. As compassionate as Kirk is I also love the moments that remind you that part of the reason he’s such a good captain is that he’s ruthless when he needs to be. He will make the hard decisions firmly and surely and he won’t let his crew know if he’s internally struggling with them.

32. Kirk’s fighting style!! He’s just throwing himself at people and hitting them with his ass and clinging onto their backs and I LOVE IT.

33. In 'Court Martial’, I think Kirk’s lawyer ex might wear a female dress uniform for the only time ever on the show (certainly the only time in the first season). All the times when the dudes are wearing them, the women are all still wearing their regular duty uniforms. It’s sort of hilarious to me that the men’s look so fancy but hers is just a slightly different collar and a longer skirt, lol.

34. When Spock mindmelds with the Horta in ‘Devil in the Dark’! It’s so sad, and I think that’s the first time we really get a look into what it means for Spock to meld, to share so deeply with another being.

35. I’m into how Kirk looks in that old-fashioned suit in ‘The Return of the Archons’ but definitely nothing beats him and Spock in short tunics and tights in ‘Errand of Mercy’. Plus Spock gets a half-cape!

36. ‘The Conscience of the King’, responsible for so much woobie Kirk backstory, even in AOS fic where it’s not even canon, lol.

37. McCoy strolling out with those women at the end of ‘Shore Leave’, all “well I am on shore leave”, lmao.

38. Of course McCoy’s iconic declarations of ‘I’m a doctor, not a ‘insert occupation here’.

39. The computer programmed to seductively purr at Kirk is hilarious.

40. The origin of the redshirt. Classic.

#star trek: tos #james t. kirk #spock #kirk x spock #leonard mccoy #nyota uhura #hikaru sulu #montgomery scott #spock x mccoy

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donttellthemangosiwashere · 4 years

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Guess who watched Frozen2 yesterday and is back on her AU Juice

ok get this, using thomas’s rewrite for Frozen 1 but also

you know that theory where Hans is like,,,, a chill dude, and the rock trolls are the evil ones and mind-controlled him into fuckin shit up so Christof would become king? also that

Spoilers for Frozen 2 so,,,, be wary

Virgil is Elsa

Paranoid shut-in, afraid of scary ice powers, convinced himself he’s perfectly comfortable with being alone forever. Distrusts Dee immediately because he can sense the presence of magic in him, but he doesn’t know that’s what it is at first

Patton is Ana

Emotionally volatile, quick to trust/immediately assumes the best in people, bit of a hopeless romantic

Roman is Christof

Agrees to help Patton because “ur a prince, I cant let you do this alone it’s not noble of me to leave u hanging like that”

Remus is Roman’s funky twin brother who would rather just continue being a rock troll honestly

Kinda functions as Sven/Olaf/comic relief buddy character but they also DO have an Olaf and a reindeer steed to pull the wagon. He's hanging out with Patton and Roman during most of the movie

Deceit is Hans

Actually a prince from another country who’s like an ok dude and does grow fond of Patton immediately after meeting him, not evil until later

Logan is the head guard/politician guy with the big nose that was their advisor/guardian after their parents died, you know the guy

He's gonna be much more important in the story. He mostly tails Dee and slowly figures out that there’s something weird about him towards the end, and tries to protect Virgil and Patton from him. He cares about them so much, but he’s bad with emotions, so he’s not great at helping Patton with his loneliness or helping Virgil with his anxiety. Even when the rest of the kingdom starts to turn against them, he never doubts that Virgil is good

Character Thomas is Olaf because that’s cute as hell

He’s an embodiment of Virgil’s love for and protectiveness over Patton, but the longer he exists, the more he starts to develop his own personality and traits based on who he spends time with? So eventually Logan, Roman, Remus, Deceit, and Patton all become a part of him too, and he’s their little amalgamation snow son

(plot stuff under the cut. be warned, i put waaaay too much goddamn thought into this)

Ok so most of the first movie happens as normal. Thomas is just a lovable little anxious snow boy who walks around and dotes over and protects Patton, Reindeer is just a regular animal, Virgil runs away after a freakout, Patton goes to find him, etc etc etc

But when Hans is on the road in the first movie (when him and some soldiers have just captured Virgil from his ice castle and are marching back to the kingdom) their caravan is jumped by the rock trolls. Virgil doesn’t know whats going on cause he’s trapped in a carriage with no windows, but the rock trolls lure Dee away and then do the evil magic thing, they puppet him from then on to imprison Virgil and refuse to kiss Patton.

Roman and Remus drop Patton off and return to the woods, right? Roman’s being all reluctant about it, and Remus is like “im sure he still wants to be ur friend bro, it doesnt matter that he’s a prince and we’re common, you KNOW he doesnt care about all that” but Roman is not convinced, says he’ll ‘think about it’. They return to the rock trolls, and Remus sees the shaman in the process of puppeting Dee, in the “if only there was someone who loved you” scene where Patton is clearly dying. Remus runs to tell Roman what’s really happening, and they get caught. Roman stays behind to fight off the other rock trolls, buying Roman time to race towards the castle and save the brothers

The “if only there was someone who loved you” scene is different, tho. First of all, Dee doesn’t say that. He (and the shaman) are too smart to give up the bit until they are SURE they’ve won. Dee refuses to kiss Patton, but in like a soft way. (Got this scene from my friend Nat on discord, one of the reasons i made this au at all, its fucking KILLER) It’s more like a

“i mean yes im fond of you but I don’t love you??? We just met” “but you proposed!” “We’re princes, looking for love in marriage is an idea I abandoned a long time ago. I figured I could at least make you happy, and an alliance between our kingdoms would be favorable.” “Oh...” “I could see myself falling in love with you, Patton, i mean that. But right now... If I could break the curse, I would. I’m deeply sorry.... Is there anything I can do to keep you warm?“ “No, there’s nothing...” “How dare your bother turn his magic against you? First he freezes the kingdom, then that golem, then he curses his own brother? (he does a whole schpeil where he convinces an emotionally broken and shellshocked Patton that Virgil is actually like evil and bad) ...Sit here, I will get you some blankets.” (Again, quote @glorifiedpigeon! She wrote a whole scene like this with Dee as Hans and Roman as Elsa, its bonkers as hell!! So good!)

While he’s gone “getting blankets” (Dee’s really just gonna leave him to freeze) Thomas sneaks in, and starts up a fire. Patton tells him not to do that cause he’ll melt, and he’s like “some people are worth melting for.” Thomas can tell Patton he’s upset and they talk about Virgil and how Patton doesn’t know what to think anymore. Thomas melts while keeping the fire warm for Patton, his sacrifice breaks the cold-poison-curse-thing and Patton is saved. The conversation Patton has with Thomas while he’s dying is weirdly familiar, and Patton realizes that it’s a 1 to 1 of a conversation him and Virgil had when they found out there parents died, when Virgil promised to “protect you no matter what, i love you.” Patton realizes Thomas was just a representation of Virgil’s brotherly love for him, which is cute as fuck, and then he goes to save his brother.

Virgil is visited by Logan, who busts him out of his cell, telling him he never doubted him for a second, but he’s wary of Dee. They run away together, panning to go out and find Patton and finally talk everything out. Dee reaches them, and calls Logan a traitor to the crown for helping Virgil escape, insisting that the fact that they are running away proves Virgil’s guilt. Logan tells Virgil to stay calm and keep a hold on his powers, and goes to confront Dee alone. Dee twists Logan’s words and just makes them sound more suspicious, eventually whacking Logan with the handle of his sword and knocking him out. Virgil is enraged, and attacks Dee. He almost kills him, but then Roman arrives, and stops Virgil from landing a killing blow. He’s about to explain what’s happening, and that Dee can still be saved and it’s not his fault, but Dee (with the rock troll magic being channeled through him) Silences Roman with a spell, so he cant speak.

At the moment, Virgil is scared, distressed, and kinda cornered since he refuses to leave Logan’s unconscious body, and Virgil has no reason to trust Roman. All Roman knows about Virgil is that he’s wicked powerful and volatile, and he knows he can’t let Hans kill Virgil. This leads to the three of them all fighting each other 1v1v1, Hans trying to kill Roman and Virgil, Virgil trying to fend off Hans and Roman, and Roman trying to keep ether of the other two from killing each other while protecting himself.

Patton finally reaches them, and sees Roman knocked out and trapped in ice, incapacitated by Virgil, and Virgil is doin some ice magic at Dee, about to kill him, or at least wound him, to escape. Patton protects Dee, and is like “Yo no wait Virgil, you both have the wrong idea! He’s just scared of you, he’s not bad!” And Roman really wants to say “He IS bad but not in the way you think!”, but he’s still silenced. Virgil’s like “uh yeah he IS bad, look at what he did to Logan!”

Finally, Remus catches up. He runs in from behind Dee and Patton, so they don’t see him approach until he yells to them about the trolls and whats actually going on. While they’re all distracted, Dee attacks Patton, holding him at knife-point and using him as a hostage to get Virgil to stop with the magics.

How is this fight resolved? Fuck if I know, I kinda wrote myself into a corner lmao. They are somehow able to incapacitate/trick dee, and Virgil uses his magic to override the trolls and free him from the mind-control.

And, at the end, there’s this cute little scene, after Patton is explaining everything that happened to Virgil and vice versa, where Patton’s like:

“Wait, wait! Can you resurrect Thomas??” and Virgil’s all snarky about it like “I dont know, wouldn’t that lessen the impact of his sacrifice? He’s like, a part of me, right? I think he’d like to go out all melancholy and poetic like that” “Virgil oh my goodness if you dont bring back my little snowman buddy I will cry here and now” “Okay, okay, jeez”

HERE IS WHERE THE SECOND MOVIE COMES IN

pretty much the only thing that changes is this: you know the voice thing that Elsa just starts hearing out of nowhere as a sign to fix past wrongs and whatnot? Virgil only starts hearing them now BECAUSE the rock trolls were blocking the signal from reaching him. And, Dee comes with them on this adventure and kinda redeems himself over the course of the movie by being a cool dude. And, the grampa who did the betraying was ALSO controlled by the rock trolls way back when; the rock trolls have been trying to destabilize the magic for years so that they could siphon more of it away from the spirits for their own personal use, and they got greedy once they had humans (re and ro) to work with, wanting political power as well. (Dee has been staying with them in their kingdom, as the ambassador from his country or whatever)

And for all you Shippers out there

the ships for this could be literally anything, dude. like literally any combination works, go fucking hogwild. Doesn’t even have to have a romantic ship or anything, it could just be everyone being platonic lovely babies.

#sanders sides #sanders sides au #frozen au #sanders sides frozen au #ts sanders sides #i put way too much thought into this #i might draw it i don't know

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theofficersacademy · 4 years

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Emblem of Trust

Claude Myrrh Camilla Erk Mist Mozu Inigo Shigure Tibarn Caeldori Python L’Arachel Charlotte Seteth Cordelia Alfonse Byleth (M) Soleil Henry Sara Siegbert Patty Louise

Week 1

Setting: Bridge of Myrddin (Adrestian side), ???

In the darkness of sleep, a vision comes to you: a man bathed in golden light, with regal antlers sprouting from his head, stands tall atop a mountain. You hear a voice, the same voice that seems to have guided you here, but you cannot make out the words. The man takes a step. Confident and self-assured. The next step hesitates. The third stumbles. The fourth--

The golden light fades abruptly to darkness. A different kind of darkness than before. It’s oily. Viscous. The kind that rears nightmares.

“....interference.... how vexing....” You recognize the voice from the other night, but as they speak, you hear a loud buzzing . “...no helping... Two groups, 24 souls… does not depend on your strength, nor wisdom, but the ability to touch the heart of he who calls himself the embodiment of distrust.”

Some of you awaken as if from a daydream on a march to Gronder Field, on the Adrestian side of the Great Bridge of Myrddin. For those who remain, your vision turns grainy and static fills your ears. An ice cold hand touches your shoulder, pushes into your chest, squeezes your heart and begins the slow process of pulling it out. Just as you see a few more figures approach you, your heart is pulled out. With the vision of a still-beating ghostly heart still in your minds, you find yourself sprawled out on the ground, gasping for breath. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and a flock of crows caw as they take flight from the trees.

Things to note:

The first group consists of Mist, Tibarn, Charlotte, Byleth (M), Camilla, Myrrh, Sara, Siegbert, Mozu, Seteth, Louise, Python, and Patty. The second group consists of Caeldori, Erk, Alfonse, Soleil, Cordelia, Shigure, Inigo, Claude, Henry, and L’Arachel.

You are all in your school uniforms. Though no mounts accompany you, those with access to mounted classes may find your personal mount among the draft horses and army wyverns in the area. If you manage to find them, they will be drawn to you and you’ll be able to ride them into battle.

Weapons are available, but only the first group actually has them in their hands. For the second group, weapons are scattered across the ground, hiding in bushes or even in the trees. It would take half an hour to find them all, but you can’t help but feel like this is all just some practical joke.

The second group will feel physically drained for the first day or so, experiencing chest aches and becoming sensitive to light. It’s an experience that’s incredibly similar to being drained by a Nosferatu spell, but more severe. Magic users will quickly notice how it’s suddenly become more difficult to pull off a spell without putting forward even more magical energy than before. The results have an uncanny resemblance to dark magic regardless of the spell’s type: Wind spells are accompanied by a ghastly moan, Fire spells take the form of a skull, etc.

Down the road you will find a fairly large town, boasting an inn, a general store, and a few smithies. You may not have a single penny to your name, but a couple of intelligent warriors like you should be able to scrounge up the gold if the need arises. The townsfolk give your uniforms strange looks and will be more guarded towards you if you all come in one large group. With the Alliance army coming from the north and the Empire’s from the south, they will have little patience for what looks to them like a band of mercenaries.

Five miles east from where you landed, you come across a pair of golden banners flying side by side. The one to the left is the traditional crest of the Leicester Alliance. You don’t recognize the right one at all: A golden stag rearing, its antlers forming the Crest of Riegan, on a forest green field. Surely this has something to do with the golden prince from your dreams, but then begs the question: how are you going to get an audience with Duke Riegan?

What to do (suggestions):

Gather your bearings by understanding what is happening in the world. You get the feeling that there is a big battle coming up between the Alliance and the Empire, but you don’t know how it came to this. Is it possible to stop the battle?

Make reconnaissance (or supplies) trips into the nearby villages, but try not to arouse too much suspicion.

Try to get your ears into the Alliance camp and talk to Claude somehow.

Short, rapid interactions / asks are encouraged.

Talk to Mod Bren for hints or NPC dialogue / actions to be included in your threads.

#toa announcements #L&KTrust2020

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luxaurorarpg · 3 years

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NATHAN AVERY, aka THE REDEEMER, is 25 years old and a PUREBLOOD alumni of SLYTHERIN. His allegiance is THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX, and is currently TAKEN with a faceclaim of Trevor Jackson.

AESTHETICS

arrogant smiles, the art of a good facade, sarcasm in every word, throwing the second punch, original family disappointment, eyes that hide nothing, a silver dagger, a heart of gold, jean jackets, coffee for the hangover, a cigarette and a warm body, nothing ever gets to me, the sky at dusk, relies on natural talent, dark circles, quiet fear of abandonment, always comes through, wonders why everyone thinks they want to help, well loved cardigans

MOMENTS

Even as a child, Nathan knew that there was an order within their family, and that above all else, everyone had their place within it. However, by the age of six, Nathan knew that he just wasn’t cut out for the position he had been born into. If William was the golden boy, then he was meant to be the prodigal son. While it sounded good on paper, Nate understood that he was being molded into a weapon. As with most pureblood children, he attended lessons of all kinds. However, his father was clear that everything he learned could be related back to his destiny in some way. Nathan was going to be the one that took over the family business, so to speak. It was drilled into him mercilessly that he was going to be the one to do whatever was necessary to advance their family, and pureblood society as a whole. All Nathan wanted to do was get lost in his stories, and become the pirate turned hero It was his older sister that he found a bit of solstice in. Despite being the pragmatic one in their family, she always seemed to have a soft spot waiting for him. Still, even as a child, Nathan knew he never quite fit; a boy born to career criminals that never could stop pretending.

By eleven, Nathan was exactly what his parents wanted him to be, at least in theory. Hiding behind sarcastic remarks and devil may care grins, Nathan seemed untouchable. Sorted into Slytherin, he was following his parents plans perfectly. It was exactly the house they wanted their son to embody; cunning, resourceful, and ambitious, he would make the perfect career criminal. At first, Nate resented the fact that he had been placed in the house that his family had expected of him. In so many ways, it felt like a slight, as he had spent most of youth internally trying to rebel against the destiny laid out before him. Being sorted into Slytherin felt like the first nail in the coffin that maybe he couldn’t escape it. However, it was there that he started making genuine connections outside of his family and those that he had grown up with. Expanding his friendships allowed him to realize that it wasn’t just him that believed his family’s world view was narrow and wrong. Eleven years old, and found himself questioning everything.

When his sixteenth birthday came it was accompanied with nothing but heartache. Instead of celebrating with a party, a family dinner, or a cake, Nathan was given his first task to prove that he was worthy of stepping into his father’s shoes. It made his stomach knot, his teeth clenched, and he’d realized with horror what a part of him had known all along - he wasn’t cut out for this. The rage and disappointment that had followed had left Nathan feeling hollow. His father’s solution was to push his training further, and Nate knew that he had to get out. Packing only a bag’s worth of clothes, a couple of personal items, and withdrawing only the money he had access to in his account, Nathan prepared to leave. Still, Nate felt a duty to his siblings, at least on some level, and he asked them to come with him before he left. He watched as his younger sister laughed in his face at the idea of leaving and told him to get over himself, as his brother shook his head but looked at him with something akin to hope, but it was Mara he focused on. Mara who put a hand on his shoulder, who had always been right beside him, who had always cared, gave him a sad smile and murmured ‘I can’t’. Nathan left and never turned back, having decided that he would never rely on anyone else again.

At twenty five, Nathan sometimes felt as if he was still fighting his own destiny. Having spent the summers before graduating Hogwarts couch surfing and finding twenty four hour diners where he could, Nathan was finally able to call a place home just before his eighteenth birthday. After a night of gambling, Nathan had won an old cargo boat that had been half transformed already into something almost livable. With a little bit of work, Cape Eurus was the home that Nate had been searching his whole life for. A pirate with his very own ship, it had been the first time that he felt an ounce of peace. When he joined the Order, he knew he was going to have to prove himself tenfold in ways that the others likely wouldn’t have to. However, despite having kept his criminal ties to keep the Order informed on that aspect of things, he knew that many of them still saw him for what his family had wanted him to be. Then again, given that he was a smuggler and tended to get his hands dirty for the Order more often than not, he wasn’t so sure that they were wrong. Still, in recent years, he branched out from just his illegal business and created something more lasting. Nathan spent a lot of time after Hogwarts working as a chef because kitchens were notoriously understaffed. Eventually, he opened a restaurant of his own, Deuxième Chance, and allowed most of his revenue to come that way. Still, at twenty five, Nate knew that he was still fighting the destiny that his parents had laid out for him, even if he was fighting for the good guys now.

TRAITS

Endearing

Sardonic

Incorrigible

Acrimonious

Unwavering

Perspicacious

CONNECTIONS

SIBLINGS - When it came to his siblings, Nathan’s relationship varied with them entirely. With William, there had always been a chasm between them. His older brother was meant to be the face of the family and he was always whisked away to deal with more important things than his younger brother who felt too much. Still, there was a commonality between them at times, and for brief moments, Nathan wondered if William understood him a little too well. Mara, on the other hand, had been the only one he had been close to. She was the person he could confide in, rely on, and trust to be there for him throughout his childhood. Losing her had hurt the most. Things between him and Isla were doomed from the start. They were pitted against each other as children, and Nate had resented the way she’d easily gained their parents love and approval without even trying. In turn, Isla resented that he’d been chosen to run the family business over her. To her, the effort their parents put on Nate was wasted.

THOMAS DEARBORN - Growing up, Thomas had been one of the few people that Nate had actually enjoyed being around. He was a comforting presence among the other pureblood children, as his views had never been quite so staunch. Thomas was much more open minded, even if he wasn’t as vocal about it. Still, they had always gotten along well, and even after Nathan left the Avery name behind, Thomas had been one of the few to still associate with him when he could. There was a kinship there that Nate didn’t take for granted.

JACK CRESSWELL - During his first year of Hogwarts, Jack had become his first and closest friend. Both sorted into Slytherin, they had become the best of friends almost immediately. Ironically enough, it had been Jack that reassured him that his views were not only normal but perfectly acceptable. Since their first meeting, Jack had been there every step of the way to help him fight his destiny. In turn, Nathan never failed to show up when Jack needed him, no matter what the situation called for. Jack knew him wholly and completely, and Nate was grateful for it.

NATALIA FENWICK - During his first year, Nate had been implicated in a prank that had affected Natalia. From there on out, anything that went wrong, she was quick to look in Nathan’s direction to point blame. When he joined the Order, she had been the first to voice her distrust in him. Even after years of him proving that he was on their side, she was always looking over his shoulder, waiting for him to screw it up in some way.

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getalittleclosey · 4 years

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under 50k larry fic rec

hi! i’m becca and i read...so much fic. these rec lists are an accumulation of fic that i’ve read or reread and extra loved from 2016-now. there’s a wide range of stuff here and i think there’s definitely something for everyone!! i divided them up by length so you can check out all those categories below!

please make sure to read tags and warnings on all these fics!! the only things i think i can guarantee is that these are all larry, there’s no non-con, no age play, no eating disorders, no mentions of bg, they end happy, and they’re mostly aus. oh and they’re all on ao3 and some are locked so you’ll need an account! anyway i hope y’all enjoy!!!

under 5k

under 10k

under 25k

under 100k

100k+

☆ the beginning of everything by thedeathchamber 31k

“How do you take it?” Harry asked, pouring tea into a cup.

“Just a dash of milk, please,” Louis cast a look over the small table, filled to capacity. “They’re very fond of you.”

Harry ducked his head, grinning. “They’re trying to impress you.”

Louis smiled, shaking his head. “Why would they want to do that?” he asked as he took the cup Harry passed to him, their fingers brushing for an instant.

“Empathy,” Harry said under his breath.

A Belle Époque AU set (mostly) in Paris in which Harry is a struggling artist, in more ways than one, and Louis is a successful theatre critic and a failed writer, more or less.

☆ to kill the mess we’ve made by misandrogyny 43k

And when he's finally standing, Liam fussing over him, rubbing his hand at the red mark blooming on Harry's forehead, does Harry learn two things:

One, he wasn't actually hit that hard, and Tommo--or Louis, rather--is just as pretty when Harry is staring at him head-on and,

Two, Louis is the Adidas model he's going to be working with on today's photo shoot.

(or: AU where Harry and Louis are both models, and they decide being friends-with-benefits is a great idea. It isn't.)

☆ heart open, bloodstain on my sleeve by silkbombs (mulberrygrey) 36k

“I couldn’t help myself,” Harry admits, one hand coming to rub the back of his neck, “I stared at you for a good while before I finally got the guts to come up to you. You looked so pretty sitting there, with your little ankles and your pencil in your mouth, so enthralling… art in front of art.”

Louis’ not sure what to say, so he just kind of sits there, eyes bugging out as he stares at Harry.

“I mean, like you’re not an object!” Harry rushes out, babbling.

“I just, there’s something about you that’s so captivating, and maybe it’s the way your eyes are like a watercolor painting of the sea, or how delicate your hands look when you draw, but I just wanted to get to know you. It’s not like I pick up random boys at art museums usually, I swear. Not that I’m trying to pick you up! Unless you want to be…God, fuck I’m sorry this is so awkward now. I can go, um, if you want."

--- Or, the one where Harry's the long limbed, gangly, sweetheart who just happens be a high profile art thief who conducts heists for a living and Louis' the loud, pushy art student who just happens to steal his heart.

☆ a king beside you by stylinsoncity 26k

When the aliens invade, the last thing Louis expects is to fall in love.

☆ the boys of summer by afirethatcannotdie 45k

“I mean…we’re gonna have to sneak around anyway, yeah? Like, with that whole rules thing that I guess we’ve decided to ignore. Might make it a little more fun this way.”

AU. In which Louis is a reluctant sports coach, Harry's a fellow counselor who wears tiny yellow shorts, and camp rules say they're forbidden to date.

☆ don’t let the tide come and take me by kiwikero 29k

The aquarium in the lobby has been there as long as Louis can remember, and so has the merman inside. That is, until the day Louis loses his job and decides to set the creature free.

They set off on a road trip to the sea, learning to communicate more and more each day. Their destination is LA, but the closer they get and the more Louis gets to know the merman, the more he dreads having to say goodbye.

Or, the one where Louis decides to set a merman free and ends up finding his own freedom along the way.

☆ introduction to dynamics by juliusschmidt 29k

Louis Tomlinson is the outspoken omega in the 'Introduction to Dynamics' course Harry wishes he didn't have to take. He's nearly certain to present as a beta, after all. Things will be simple for him.

☆ saved tonight by objectlesson 31k

Harry is the world's most persistent seduction-baker, a questionable dog-sitter, and Louis's biggest fan. Louis hasn't written in years, is trying to pass loneliness off as cynicism, and absolutely hates his fans. It's probably destiny.

☆ once upon a dream by objectlesson 27k

“M’not gonna half-ass our fake relationship,” Louis almost snaps, voice sharp with a defensive edge, like Harry wandered too close to a bruise with needy fingers. “Now kiss me again. We’re gonna make every shitty tourist here wish they had stayed in the Midwest. We’re gonna burn Disneyland down with our gay. ”

Harry shuts his eyes and opens his mouth, because he can’t fucking say no to Louis.

Or, a fake dating AU where everyone is lying and they happen to be at the Happiest Place on Earth.

☆ rivers ‘til i reach you by embodied 29k

Louis can’t begin to understand how he’s always this close and still can’t manage to make Harry his. He stands up and gets another beer. AU. Louis studies astronomy; Harry studies Louis. They spend their summers on the water and it shouldn't be complicated (spoiler: it is).

☆ life was a song, you came along by rainbowninja167 38k

It's embarrassing how long it takes Louis to recognize his own song. Niall had sung it as a bright, hopeful love song, and that’s honestly how Louis had always assumed it should sound. But this new voice, slow and rough, stripped of any backing instrument, has infused the lyrics with just the tumultuous mix of fear and defiance that Louis can remember so clearly from the night he wrote them. It’s not a comfortable thing, to feel like someone is singing all your secrets back to you.

Louis is a songwriter trapped in a lie that could ruin his best friend's career. Harry owns a record store, distrusts everyone in the music industry on principle, but loves Niall Horan's newest album. A modern retelling of Singin' in the Rain.

☆ learning to eat by photo41 29k

Celebrity chef Louis Tomlinson has a problem. He’s opening his first restaurant in 9 weeks, and he has yet to hire a pastry chef- apparently people think he’s ‘standoffish’ and ‘rude’ and ‘quick to temper’. Whatever. He ends up saddled with an annoying, happy-go lucky rookie who also happens to be obnoxiously good looking. His tv presenter and pop star best friends only add to the drama, and for fucks sake would everyone please stop quoting Julia Child?!

Kitchen AU where Harry helps Louis re-learn how to eat. (METAPHORICALLY)

note: just to clarify this is NOT an eating disorder fic don’t worry

☆ runner on third by kikikryslee 40k

As Harry stood there, the other man turned around, and he knew he was correct in who he thought it was. “Louis?” he asked, still not quite believing it. Louis blinked. “Harry? Wh– what are you doing here?” “I work here,” Harry said. “What are you doing here?” “Um, I’m picking up my brother. The nurse called and said he was sick.” Harry felt like he was going to be sick. “Wait, Ernest is your brother? Since when do you have a brother?” “Since about seven years ago, I guess. Wait, how do you know Ernest?” “I’m his teacher.” “You’re his what?” Louis exclaimed. Harry gulped. This was going to be a long year. --- Or, the AU where Louis and Harry were best friends growing up, but lost touch after Harry moved away. Ten years later, Harry has moved back to town, but he and Louis don't pick up where they left off.

note: there are four fics in this series that total to 60k

☆ roots by cherrystreet 43k

There aren’t many things that make Harry Styles nervous. He’s spent the past couple of years on and off various stages, filled with screaming fans, all chanting his name, loud and adoring. He’s done countless interviews, some even on live, national television, never faltering over his words, answers meticulously planned out, smooth and steady. He’s signed countless autographs, taken just as many photos, and even when he sat in his label’s studio, waiting to see how high up on the charts his single made it, he didn’t feel uneasy or uncomfortable. It’s all been unbelievably fun. No, there aren’t many things that make Harry Styles nervous.

Enter Louis Tomlinson.

☆ once upon a dream by thedeathchamber 33k

Louis is psychic and gets caught in the middle of a murder investigation led by FBI Special Agent Harry Styles.

aka. the Medium/Criminal Minds-inspired AU no one ever asked for.

note: there’s a 24k sequel for this!

☆ the melody you never heard by bananasandboots 30k

It's one last adventure. One last chance to be young and carefree. One final weekend before they take up their internships, their corporate positions, before they enter the real world, fresh out of university. Niall's his best mate. Liam's been there for him since they were lost, little freshmen, trying to find their ways through an overwhelming first year. Harry can't disappoint them, even if it means enduring four days with Louis.

Louis, who he does share a history with, a history he's never told anyone about, not even Niall, a history he hasn't brought up in three years because it's stupid and embarrassing and confusing.

Or, the one where Harry gets roped into a four-day camping trip with the boy who kissed him and never called back.

☆ born to make you happy by objectlesson 26k

Harry makes a quiet vow to himself that he will be the very best girlfriend Louis has ever had, even if he never actually gets to be Louis’s girlfriend.

note: i literally had to take a break and reread this cause i love it so much

☆ close to nowhere by angelichl 35k

“I will kill you in your sleep,” Louis threatened as he quickly stepped out of his jeans.

“I don’t think that would work very well baby, seeing as you talk to dead people all the time.”

“I’ll kill you in your sleep and ignore your ghost. And don’t call me that.”

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

☆ adrenaline by reveries_passions 38k

“Harry Styles,” Nameless Boy who now has a name says. Louis is too busy having an internal crisis to realize the boy has just introduced himself as Harry Styles. Harry Styles, only son of Des Styles, PhD, Dean of Harvard Medical School. Harry Styles, known by everyone and their grandmother. Harry Styles, star rower. Harry Styles, youngest enrolled student in graduate school at Harvard University. Oh my god, Louis thinks, mortified. I just slept with Harry Styles. As he reaches out tentatively to shake the boy’s hand, another thought hits him. Oh my god. Harry Styles is gay.

louis tomlinson, college dropout, up and coming dj, and gay activist, is the notorious owner of exclusive underground gay club, adrenaline.

harry styles, med student by day, partier by night, child prodigy and seemingly heterosexual son of harvard professors, is the youngest and arguably the smartest student at harvard medical school.

or: a one night stand wasn't supposed to become the greatest love story of the 21st century.

☆ bloodsport by tofiveohfive 40k

“You know how our next game is against the Cardinals, right? You remember how vicious those guys can get. I wanted us to come up with some plays, maybe work on a block from the left—”

Louis stops when he hears a chuckle.

He doesn’t think he’s said anything particularly funny, so he turns to Harry, waiting for an explanation.

“‘S funny, ‘s all.” Harry throws his finished bottle somewhere near the other discarded ones. “This is the first time you’re talking to me in eight months, and it’s still about football.”

☆ the haunting of louis tomlinson helloamhere 31k

“I'm not afraid of ghosts,” Louis said.

Every single magnet unstuck itself from the fridge and fell to the floor in a clattering cascade.

“I'm only a little afraid of ghosts,” Louis said.

*** OR: Louis is a plucky Gothic Heroine, Harry is a Mournful Spirit, and Big Country Houses are full of mystery and suspense, as Big Country Houses ever are!

☆ can i not like you for a while? by larryshares 43k

louis tomlinson is awful. harry is just as difficult, and they're both terrible to each other. it makes being in the same acapella group together quite complicated.

☆ delight in masques by kassio 28k

Popstar Louis Tomlinson has been pulling one over on the mortals for years. In the five years since he put on a human illusion and tried out for the X Factor, none of them have realised that he’s one of the Fair Folk – a cat shapeshifter, to be precise – and he’d like to keep it that way.

When he returns to the X Factor as a guest judge, the last thing he expects is for some half-Siren fool to use magic on the judges. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what Harry Styles does. Now Louis has to track down some rogue changeling before he exposes them all. Even worse? Apparently, Harry doesn’t even know what he is.

(An urban fantasy adventure, set in the world of - but not crossing over with - the October Daye book series. No need to be familiar with those books; I just want to give credit where it's due on a lot of the worldbuilding.)

☆ no love like your love by rearviewdreamer 43k

When it comes to saving the world from itself and convincing rich CEOs of environmentally harmful companies to go green, there's nobody better than Harry Styles. That is, until Louis Tomlinson, his ex and former Alpha, is involved.

note: i love vegan harry styles

☆ for neither never nor ever by fairytalelights 29k

Then Harry looked down. A newspaper was on the steps in front of him, looking new, like it had only just gotten delivered but no one had bothered to carry it inside yet. That, in itself, wasn't unusual. The unusual thing was the headline, Chernobyl - Half a Year Later, and the date in the corner. 5th November 1986. He looked up to stare at the girl in the doorway one last time, before he did the only logical thing his body knew how to do in this situation. He bolted.

or, the one where Harry travels through time and has to come to terms with losing everything he's ever known. Louis might be the only thing that feels real.

☆ worth dying for by whoknows 45k

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. In the center of the table, a set of three glossy photos stares up at him, mocking him.

“A security detail is non-negotiable, Louis, you know this,” his mum reminds him, tapping the middle photo with two fingers.

Louis doesn’t look back down at the pictures, gesturing towards them wildly, over-dramatically. “This is not a security detail!” he protests. “This is a lanky college student. In what world do you hire someone like this kid to protect me?”

☆ listen to your heart by lovelarry10 35k

Are you kidding me right now?

I… No? Louis frowned, feeling angry now. It wasn’t fair, he knew that, but at the same time, he couldn’t help his feelings. It felt like this had been brewing for weeks, and this was it. Give it a rest, Harry.

Why are you such a brat? Why can’t you just be happy for me for once?

You think I want to hear about you kissing James? Really, H? There’s things I just don’t need to know, okay? I’m your best mate, not your fucking relationship advisor…

*****

Louis has always been comfortable being Harry’s one and only. When Harry starts to branch out, Louis has a hard time letting him go.

Harry is very lucky to have someone who listens to what he has to say, despite the fact that he’s deaf. He’s finally feeling like he’s coming into himself, but Louis seems bothered by his newfound confidence.

☆ another day gettin’ into trouble by whoknows 26k

Harry’s drunk when the idea occurs to him. He’s also a pop star, so sometimes his drunk ideas turn into actual things instead of just ideas. The clone-a-willy kit is one of them.

In Harry’s defense, when he first thinks about it his intention is just to buy the kit and give it to Louis to make his own dildo with, because that’s what he wants anyway, right? To have a penis filling him up?

Then he realizes that it would be weird if Louis made a copy of his own dick to fuck himself with. It’d be super weird. Louis fucking himself? That’s a weird idea. Harry’s pretty sure Louis wouldn’t like that.

Clearly the only solution here is to use his own dick for the mold.

☆ all the right moves by cherrystreet 32k

This is the third game in a row that Harry has been distracted by the noisy boy in the stands, five rows back.

There’s really no reason that he should feel compelled to stare into the audience as frequently as he is, but he can’t help it. This boy is a nuisance. And he’s loud. Even from basketball court with nine other players running by him, shoes squeaking on the shiny hardwood floor, and thousands of cheering college students, Harry can hear this boy nearly shrieking, his laugh more like a cackle than anything.

It’s seriously obnoxious.

☆ play the odds by alivingfire 26k

Harry and Louis are best friends since childhood who, after a night of drinking, find themselves locked in a bet: first one to kiss the other a thousand times wins. Wins what? They don't know. Glory, Harry supposes. Bragging rights, though those don't do much in this economy. All Harry knows is that this is one bet he can finally win. What he doesn't expect, though, is what happens when he starts kissing his best friend on a daily basis.

Namely, he doesn't expect falling head over heels in love with his best friend.

Now all he has to do is make sure the bet never ends, so he never has to stop kissing Louis.

#fic rec #mine #larry stylinson #one direction #apparently i really love objectlesson #cause they have fics on every list i think #30 of these!#fic masterpost

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