#amee writes

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

the only You for Me

Captaineer drabble (Captain is reader) | Words: 381 | (fluff/sorta hurt-comfort?) | Read on AO3

From where he lies beside you, you feel a hand rest atop yours, calloused fingertips brushing your knuckles.

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Mhm,’ you hum in assent, ‘ ‘course.’

‘Were there ever any of the other “me”s that you… liked more than, well, me…?’

‘What? No, Mark, of course not. Why would you–? No. You're my Mark. Hey,’ You take his face in both your hands, gently making him meet your eyes. ‘I didn't go halfway across the multiverse just to find any old Mark.’

He gives a small laugh and you press your lips to his forehead before returning your gaze to look directly into his.

‘I'm sure the other "me"s out there have their own "you"s that they cherish in their own ways, and some of them could be enemies, in a sense, or even strangers. But that's their business. I love you. This you. More than anything or anyone — and I mean anyone. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that for you to fully believe you deserve it, or truly understand how much I mean it, but I'll remind you forever if I have to.’

It's dark in the room and you can just about make out his eyes and other features, but you can feel the slight tingle of warmth on his cheeks, imagine the blush tinting his face.

‘Forever's a long time,’ he says, voice low and soft and undeniably adoring.

‘Yeah, well, I think we both know the meaning of “a long time” better than maybe anyone. And in all that time — all those lifetimes, all those universes, I would always choose you, no matter what.'

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, using your upper arm as a pillow. His arms wind around your torso, pulling you close. You wrap your free arm over his back, stroking his dark curls and winding them gently, comfortingly, between and around your fingers.

‘I love you,’ he whispers against you. ‘You’re my whole universe, my everything. You're the only you I want, too.’

You want to wrap him up in your heart, deep within the warmth of your chest. But since you can't, you settle for holding him tighter, every night, and you never let go.

#sobbing I love them #this idea came to me when I was trying to sleep and I was half delirious but I had to write it then and there #I have since cleaned it up lmao #amee writes #iswm #captaineer #head engineer mark x captain #engineer mark x captain #engineer mark #engineer!mark #head engineer mark #x reader #engineer mark x reader #head engineer mark x reader #in space with markiplier #markiplier egos #markiplier cu #markiplier cinematic universe #markiplier connected universe

[ungaroyals]

Great chapter, Chantel, thank you ☺️. Aimee is as annoying as August. Why does Marion like her at all? If it’s not a spoiler, of course! I’m sorry if you like her (which you don’t seem to) but if this bitch is gonna try to hurt my baby Simme, I’m afraid you will have to write me into your story as her personal Nemesis

Hi friend! I’m glad you liked it! But yes Amée is very much as annoying as august, hey maybe they should become an item hahahaha.

Like all my OCs I do have a soft spot for Amée. And I think maybe Marion does too. The only way I could describe their relationship is if I were to compare it to Erik and August. Obviously Erik has decent morals but they’re heavily influenced by the culture and people around him. So, in being friends with someone like August, it makes it easier to see past their flaws. Plus there’s history between Erik and August, they’ve known each other since there were kids, Erik trusted August. And living a life like they do, I think that trust is hard to come by. Which is why I think Marion holds onto her friendship with Amée like she does. Deep down I think she knows it’s flawed and perhaps a little toxic, but she loves Amée and perhaps finds it a little too easy to make excuses for her behaviour.

#writing you into the story would probably be the death of amee lol #sol ask

[phoenixyfriend]

so, i’ve been rereading ur macenjar au and it got me thinking, what if u could do this preventatively with shmace? so an au where anakin is able to free shmi +1 (either amee or pala mostly bc little sisters do make u better it’s science as someone with a little sister i can confirm) Anakin visits for family dinner one or twice a week so shmi can fuss and he and his sister can bully each other and bond, and bc he never loses the skill of lying to authority about what he’s doing (that he did have in tpm), none of the jedi really suspect that his mom is why he’s sneaking out. they all think it’s illegal street racing (which it probably was for a time before shmi stopped that)

after a while shmi starts dating someone, and eventually has him and his grown up daughter over for dinner. Mace Windu was expecting One Adopted Girl at the table, as he hasn’t realized that Shmi’s Jedi Child was Anakin Skywalker. anakin is Not expecting his Mom’s New Boyfriend And His Daughter to be Master of The Order Mace Windu and Council Member Depa Billaba, but after the Mace Windu is Fucking His Mom freak out he and his sister give their approval (the sibling is important so there can be a conference of fifteen year olds on Who Can Be Stepdad) and anakin decides that since Obi-Wan doesn’t want to be his dad (wrong) Mace can be dad and obi can be just brother. Anakin is thrilled that Depa is immediately down to be a cool older sister, who is now very concerned about Anakin’s relationship with the chancellor. Mace has no idea how to be a stepdad, and now Obi-Wan is worried that mace is trying to poach His Anakin. (when i imagine it it’s in a qui gon lives and doesn’t take anakin as an official padawan for two or three years to complete his training so anakin has some time of Being A Jedi Limbo that he can use as a loophole to free his mom but u can say otherwise)

u don’t have to write this, but i figured it would at minimum amuse u. sorry for rambling.

That's not my AU

@nevertheless-moving I got one of yours!

#Phoenix Answers Asks #fun fact: I hate getting multiple paragraphs on anon for this exact reason #either attach your face to it so i can reply privately and you can send it to the correct person. #or. keep it short enough that I don't feel bad about deleting

[maybelacrimosa]

I want to write scary AUs but I thought I could use the tinman as a metaphor so it just keeps turning into me infodumping about how messed up the original Oz books were. Like Nimmie Amee, the girl the tin woodsman got turned into tin for collects his old body parts and the body parts of another dude who got turned into tin and made a new guy out of them both and married her creation. Like you feel sympathy for her...Because both of them left her waiting way too long and she was trapped working for a wicked witch. But at the same time she basically stole the body parts, including his original heart, and stuck it in her build-a-boyfriend. And Chopfyt (the build-a-boyfriend) is apparently a pretty grumpy guy? I mean I probably wouldn’t be in a good mood if someone brought me to life and then married me, like he didnt get a say about his life path at all. Oh I did it again, sorry the terrifying world of Oz lives rent free in my brain.

#drabble #wizard of oz #the tin man #the wizard of Oz books are messed up #horror #infodump #Oz #nimmie amee #Chopfyt #build a boyfriend

[jiminies-ahmee]

who should i write more for??? i feel like i come up w lil blurb n timestamp ideas for the same people... i wanna write for my underrated babies, so lmk who u want to see more of <3

!!!send timestamp prompts for ur favs!!!

#amee speaks #my brain is mush #no ideas at all smh #but i want to write!!!

[suspiciouslybluemilktea]

I gave @amee-racle brainrot by spewing about my hc that Saeran is the type to melt into hugs if he feels safe enough to do so. And with that, she has requested me to write something for this >:)

I will be writing SE and GE later

♡♡♡♡

Ray is very shy when it comes to accepting your affection, although he very much wants to take what you offer him with unwavering confidence. He wants to be able to accept those kisses and tender moments as if they were shiny presents made only for him to unwrap, but his mind is continuously plagued by doubt and irrational worry.

He trusts you more than anyone, so grateful that you stay beside someone so unworthy of your time and effort. That trust manifests itself as he takes huge risks for you, slipping those viles of well crafted elixir dupes into your soft hands.

Ray tries to never let his mind wander to the idea that you’re setting him up for betrayal, but it’s certainly something he feels he needs to remember is a possibility. He wouldn’t blame you if you tattled on him one day.

Try your best to shut all those thoughts of his up, catching him sulking in your room where you can close the door and be alone, just the two of you. Wrap your arms around him and pull him closer than he’s ever been to you, and he’ll allow himself the selfishness of relaxing into your hold. You can feel him sort of slyly wiggling to fit like a puzzle piece, looking for that perfect position to just meld into you.

If he could somehow find a way to be absorbed into your warm skin, turning into a puddle of goo, he would take the opportunity. The way he holds you is a search for the ability to become one body and soul.

♡♡♡♡

Suit Saeran is not one to reach out to you, weeping for your care and comfort. He’s at a mind state where he’s certain you’re nothing more than a manipulative and conniving vulture here to pick on him and his heart’s vulnerability. It takes him a while to realize this isn’t the truth of the matter.

His thoughts and actions come from a place of past pain as well as current, his fear of being abandoned like in the past as well as his Savior’s twisted words coming into play. It’s easy to fall victim to the idea you’ll be hurt again if hurt is all you’ve ever known. Rika makes sure to stomp out any sparks of hope that might twinkle beyond that as well, feeding into his crippling anxieties at every turn.

During his apology, it’s clear he’s rather disgusted with himself after treating the one person who truly cared so poorly. If you speak to him beyond the extent Mc does, working to really connect with his thoughts and feelings in the moment more deeply, he’ll most likely cave and cry. Be gentle and cautious, search for his ok as you step into his space and hold him in an embrace made special for him.

He can’t help but feel weights lift from his shoulders as his bones seem to liquify. And yet at the same time, he somehow feels as if he’s instead becoming a piece of petrified wood or stone. It’s odd, but he supposed he wouldn’t mind forever freezing like this, the structure around him crumbling to the ground with time as vines began to creep up around the both of you. He wouldn’t mind becoming like the citizens of Pompeii, those haunting dead casts of what used to be living and breathing people. Empty shells.

He can’t find it within himself to desperately cling to you the way he wants to, but he allows himself to relax in a way you’ve never quite seen before. It’s clear he yearns for this closeness as he fits himself within your arms like a perfect mold.

♡♡♡♡

Unknown is not your giant snuggly teddy bear you won at a fair, although you so often find yourself curled up with him in some way, shape or form.

You’re familiar with the feeling of his chest pressed against yours or your back, his arms around your waist, hands on your hips or thighs or face…but it’s all just for an elaborate game of power play and forced submission. Never in a million years did you think you’d ever grow accustomed to the touch of your kidnapper, but here you are today, not even trying to shove him away anymore.

The only moments any touch between the two of you is truly soft and genuine take place when Unknown is heavily clouded in the mind. Sometimes it’s with a flurry of blaring emotions, most times elixir. You can only really hold him close when he’s far too hazy to keep you at the usual distance he wants you at.

Much like Suit Saeran, Unknown has severe trust issues, but will act upon them with a very different approach. I hate to say this but if you ever outright went in to kiss those pretty lips of his, he’d assume you’re trying to soften him up to win against him. He will not allow himself to ever be “seduced” by you, no matter how attractive of a little thing you are. You cannot just wiggle your way into comforting him unless you’re in a situation that just doesn’t allow him to over think, hence the drugged state (sorry my love).

Unknown is almost fragile once too much of that bitter beverage enters his system, unable to even hobble around to fetch himself a glass of water as the initial effects take place. If it causes him to vomit, he’s down for the count as it’s not easy to function with your stomach going full haywire.

Catch him in your arms and assure him as his assistant it’s your duty to baby him, and watch him melt into your hold because there’s just nowhere else for him to go.

Why do you do this for him? What are you trying to gain?

His head is limp as well as his aching body, and he finds himself almost locked perfectly into the way you wrapped up around him. He is boney to the point where all you’re clinging to is a pair of ribs rather than a man’s torso, but his arms have a slight soft squish due to lack of muscle.

As his face nuzzles into your neck and his hands dig at the back of your shirt, he seems to untense a tad knowing it’s you, slowly but surely. His clinginess is a longing to lose himself within your arms, as well as a method to cage you in to be by his side forever.

Sooner or later, he does stop struggling to get up. Your smell, your feel…you hear him whisper your name into the silence. You bring him a sense of familiarity, but he’d damn you straight to hell if you ever spoke about these moments of strange peace he finds with you.

If I’m reaching a little too far here, I think you could maybe…MAYBE full on cradle him if you really tried. Maybe? Maybe. How out of his mind is he?

#saeran x mc #saeran choi #saeran x reader #unknown saeran #ray mystic messenger #suit saeran #unknown mystic messenger

[marshmallowprotection]

The Garden of Obsession Masterlist

[Last Updated: 11/22/2021}

The Garden of Obsession is a week-long event where you can explore a side of Saeran Choi as the world caves in around him. 

[Subject to post updates for late entries. There’s no time limit to submit your prompts after the event; just make sure to let me know if you want to be added or make sure that you use the event tag so I can edit you in!]

[Event Theme + Rules]

[Archive of Our Own Collection]

Day 1: 

Fanfiction: 

https://jennis-one-shot.tumblr.com/post/667913118594334720/ray-begonia-beware-warning-for

https://aftergiow.tumblr.com/post/667930995270533120/begonia-beware

https://agent-bee.tumblr.com/post/667938531491069952/begonia-beware-beware-of-both-love-and-other

https://keeperofthefour.tumblr.com/post/667941547734646784/begonia-danger-day-one

https://amee-racle-ofmyown.tumblr.com/post/667974914157969408/a-word-of-warning-the-garden-of-obsession-day-1

https://hawkewyrd.tumblr.com/post/668011387252064256/bittersweet

https://marshmallowprotection.tumblr.com/post/667937255562887168/day-1-begonia-the-garden-of-obsession

https://k0kichiimagines.tumblr.com/post/667948575144148992/writing-this-hurts-me-because-it-hurts-saeran

https://suspiciouslybluemilktea.tumblr.com/post/668080447239176192/the-garden-of-obsession

https://rfaromance.tumblr.com/post/668132295076626432/day-1-begonia-beware

Fanart: 

https://luxielle.tumblr.com/post/667922066964692992/the-garden-of-obsession-2021-day-1-begonia

https://www.instagram.com/p/CWTjshkP_Ve/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

https://www.instagram.com/p/CWUaBPXqRQR/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

https://57phantompancakes.tumblr.com/post/667983868906848256/garden-of-obsession-day-1-begonia-beware

https://mystic-simping.tumblr.com/post/667991146099769344/day-1-begonia

https://classiqueintrovert.tumblr.com/post/668008926822924288/day-one-begonia-beware

https://kitiillustrations.tumblr.com/post/667977772703023104/im-extremely-excited-to-join-this-event-and-i

https://nanoko-aishino.tumblr.com/post/668137449570074624/day-1-begonia-beware

https://pili-art.tumblr.com/post/668144292796219392/the-garden-of-obsession-day-1-begonia-beware

https://www.instagram.com/p/CWTVEBLq-eh/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Day 2: 

Fanfiction: 

https://jennis-one-shot.tumblr.com/post/667991152006512640/se-saeran-jonquil-desire-for-affection

https://aftergiow.tumblr.com/post/668022666881531904/jonquil-desire-for-affection-returned

https://keeperofthefour.tumblr.com/post/668027622344867840/jonquil-desire-for-affection-returned-day-two

https://agent-bee.tumblr.com/post/668029859059073024/jonquil-desire-for-affection-returned-men-are

https://marshmallowprotection.tumblr.com/post/668032877423984641/day-2-jonquil-the-garden-of-obsession

https://k0kichiimagines.tumblr.com/post/668041692895690752/i-love-how-all-the-themes-are-flowers-im-trying-to

https://rfaromance.tumblr.com/post/668160394994581504/day-2-jonquil-desire-for-affection-returned

https://marshmallowprotection.tumblr.com/post/668032877423984641/day-2-jonquil-the-garden-of-obsession

Fanart: 

https://luxielle.tumblr.com/post/668013298980175872/the-garden-of-obsession-2021-day-2-jonquil

https://www.instagram.com/p/CWWkVfhFLJ2/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

https://cheeppy.tumblr.com/post/668060145422565376/the-garden-of-obsession-2021-day-2-jonquil

https://www.instagram.com/p/CWW8JcAKBTX/?utm_medium=copy_link

https://57phantompancakes.tumblr.com/post/668072183066755072/jonquil-desire-for-affection-returned

https://www.instagram.com/p/CWXUrnFMe0Q8Wty44FNkR6sQwKgRys8vUbneF00/?utm_medium=copy_link

https://nanoko-aishino.tumblr.com/post/668134635710119936/day-2-jonquil-desire-for-affection-returned

https://amee-racle-ofmyown.tumblr.com/post/668965183972147200/he-is-a-bit-creepy-the-only-one-who-gets-away

Day 3: 

Fanfiction: 

https://jennis-one-shot.tumblr.com/post/668081242197082112/unknown-carnation-wishing-to-be-yours-warning

https://hawkewyrd.tumblr.com/post/668105072335519744/bittersweet

https://aftergiow.tumblr.com/post/668119899379499008/striped-carnation-wishing-to-be-yours

https://marshmallowprotection.tumblr.com/post/668124335783968768/day-3-carnation-striped-the-garden-of

https://k0kichiimagines.tumblr.com/post/668224596617674752/late-because-i-had-a-rough-day-yesterday-ill

https://rfaromance.tumblr.com/post/668246591792136192/day-3-carnation-striped-wishing-to-be-yours

https://agent-bee.tumblr.com/post/668338984590671872/carnation-striped-wishing-to-be-yours-we-can

https://hawkewyrd.tumblr.com/post/668462581124579328/bittersweet

Fanart: 

https://www.instagram.com/p/CWZD26shP9L/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

https://www.instagram.com/p/CWZorLfKApy/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

https://luxielle.tumblr.com/post/668210466011676672/the-garden-of-obsession-2021-day-3-carnation

https://57phantompancakes.tumblr.com/post/668223978443243520/carnation-striped-wishing-to-be-yours-he

https://www.instagram.com/p/CWiulo-r_3RNCQsmRn2549zMoeBAp_HObdG2W80/

Day 4: 

Fanfiction: 

https://jennis-one-shot.tumblr.com/post/668171511906156544/suit-saeran-poppy-eternal-sleep-warning-for

https://aftergiow.tumblr.com/post/668210300971040768/poppy-eternal-sleep

https://marshmallowprotection.tumblr.com/post/668215818305388544/day-4-poppy-the-garden-of-obsession

https://k0kichiimagines.tumblr.com/post/668236554848829440/queued-post-day-4-the-prompt-reminded-me-of

https://gureishi.tumblr.com/post/668241324806373376/poppy-eternal-sleep-se-saeran-x-reader-he

https://rfaromance.tumblr.com/post/668302527515803648/day-4-poppy-eternal-sleep

https://hawkewyrd.tumblr.com/post/668466202857848832/bittersweet

Fanart: 

https://www.instagram.com/p/CWbgJMXKbNR/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

https://www.instagram.com/p/CWbliUKvI--/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

https://www.instagram.com/p/CWb76iGPimy/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

https://www.instagram.com/p/CWcOt4CKk2d/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

https://luxielle.tumblr.com/post/668293487875211264/the-garden-of-obsession-2021-day-4-poppy

https://57phantompancakes.tumblr.com/post/668691803054145536/poppy-eternal-sleep

Day 5: 

Fanfiction: 

https://jennis-one-shot.tumblr.com/post/668264940494340096/unknown-petunia-resentment-warning-for-sexual

https://aftergiow.tumblr.com/post/668303328946552832/petunia-resentment

https://keeperofthefour.tumblr.com/post/668342891861721088/brothers-petunia-resentment-day-five-saeran

https://rfaromance.tumblr.com/post/668389296221405185/day-5-petunia-resentment

https://marshmallowprotection.tumblr.com/post/668305609740976128/day-5-petunia-the-garden-of-obsession

https://hawkewyrd.tumblr.com/post/668554157715800064/bittersweet-petunia

Fanart: 

https://k0kichiimagines.tumblr.com/post/668413962025598976/day-5-lessgo-i-thought-i-had-got-this-in-the-queue

https://hawkewyrd.tumblr.com/post/668554157715800064/bittersweet-petunia

https://www.instagram.com/p/CWdSb34qX8F/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

https://www.instagram.com/p/CWeUw0RB1TC/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

https://www.instagram.com/p/CWeywy2Kt69/?utm_medium=copy_link

Day 6: 

https://luxielle.tumblr.com/post/668377445347491840/the-garden-of-obsession-2021-day-5-petunia

https://shittylongcatposts.tumblr.com/post/668894988566921216

Fanfiction: 

https://jennis-one-shot.tumblr.com/post/668368175522529280/ray-lilac-the-first-feeling-of-love

https://aftergiow.tumblr.com/post/668394399611453440/lilac-the-first-feeling-of-love-spring

https://marshmallowprotection.tumblr.com/post/668397803423367168/day-6-lilac-the-garden-of-obsession

https://gureishi.tumblr.com/post/668420301629095936/lilac-first-feeling-of-love-suit-saeran-x

https://k0kichiimagines.tumblr.com/post/668425408882098176/posting-this-at-2-am-my-time-so-its-not-super

https://hawkewyrd.tumblr.com/post/668643546007584768/bittersweet-lilac

https://rfaromance.tumblr.com/post/668774122941186048/day-6-lilac-first-feelings-of-lovejealousy

Fanart: 

https://www.instagram.com/p/CWg65D8Bkl7/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

https://www.instagram.com/p/CWhR22WK0Ak/?utm_medium=copy_link

https://luxielle.tumblr.com/post/668513131730010112/the-garden-of-obsession-2021-day-6-lilac-the

https://classiqueintrovert.tumblr.com/post/668526987883708416/day-6-lilac-the-first-feeling-of-love-and

Day 7: 

Fanfiction: 

https://marshmallowprotection.tumblr.com/post/668487377545789440/the-yellow-hyacinth-has-only-one-meaning-and

https://jennis-one-shot.tumblr.com/post/668457741976797184/se-saeran-hyacinth-jealousy-warning-for

https://k0kichiimagines.tumblr.com/post/668493253880020992/day-7-this-was-a-really-fun-event-i-enjoyed

Fanart: 

https://luxielle.tumblr.com/post/668615833703071744/the-garden-of-obsession-2021-day-7-hyacinth

https://www.instagram.com/p/CWoyLxxqOZ3/?utm_medium=copy_link

#mystic messenger #mysme #mysticmessenger #mm #thegardenofobsession2021 #mod kait #event #fanfiction #fanart #saeran choi #choi saeran #masterlist #saeran mm #saeran mystic messenger #saeran mysme #saeran mn #mm saeran #mystic messenger saeran #mysme saeran #ray choi #choi ray #unknown #saeran

[princesspeonywatercrest]

32nd Mid Summer 475 AB

Dear diary,

I have decided to record my memoires. My dear sister Amelia recommend it as a good way to let out my emotions as I've been finding it harder to cope with them recently. I've never been very good with writing or building consistent habits but I'd like to try at least.

I'm not sure where to start really. I could start by listing what I did today (as Amee recommend) but honestly that sounds quite boring.

I suppose the most exciting thing to happen today was that I went for a walk in the woods with Lady Mira. I'd quite like to do it again at some point when she's able, she's often busy but she said she'd like to again. I do miss her when I don't see her for days on end. It's hard to believe we've never done it before considering we grew up together but I suppose that's what happens when one of you is mainly confined to the walls of your castle and the other is off learning how to fight and the art of battle.

I wonder what it's like to be in battle. Mira doesn't like to talk about it, which is very understandable. I do worry about her. I'm just glad that she's only witnessed it and not had to partake yet. She says some day she will, she's sworn you protect the kingdom so I suppose it is inevitable. She's always been so kind of heart, it's hard to imagine her taking another person's life. As long as she's safe I'm happy.

This has only been a short first entry but it's quite late and father asked for me to be ready early in the morning so we could go for a ride together. I hope to write again soon. This has been rather reliving, it's nice to getting things out there without having to face the consiquences of another person's reaction.

Goodnight diary,

Peony

#princess #diary entry #princesscore #fantasy #writing #cottagecore #aestethic #nature #sapphic #castle #wlw #fiction #fairycore #royalty #royaltycore #princess aesthetic #cute #royal #royal aesthetic #royal court #princess vibes #original fiction #original character #oc #fairytale #kinght #knightcore #lgbt #queer #queerlove

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Kismet {8}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot, Tiny Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Dialogue Heavy, POV Changes, Small Time Jumps

Words: 6.6k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

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Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

-Henry-

The minute he woke the next day and the alcohol had worn off; he instantly regretted his actions. His head was pounding and his nose stuffy, which was always what the morning after a drinking fest looked and felt like for him. the pain in his head made him painfully aware of everything he’d said to you. More than half of him wished he would have just held his peace and moved on, but the other side of him—the stubborn bull side felt nothing but satisfaction from what he’d done. It was time, especially seeing that you completely had the wrong idea about who he was and his character. He couldn’t help but wonder what you thought about your conversation, but instead of dwelling on it, he decided to push it to the side and do the logical thing. Move on.

 It was now five days since that conversation, and though it felt strange the first couple of days to not send you a message when you ran across his mind, he did it and adapted. He now was throwing himself into work because there wasn’t a shortage of it. Most days, he was in pre-production for Witcher two, and that in itself was a lot of work. Production decided to kick fight choreography up a notch because last season wasn’t badass enough. The choreography this season was definitely taking it up several notches, and it meant more long hours of training and even more potential for him to be hurt.

By week two post convo, he was steadily counting down to his vacation time. Training was kicking his ass, and the more and more days that passed, the more he thought of you. That wasn’t all though, the more the way he thought of you changed. In the beginning, he thought he was infatuated or possibly obsessed. When he was around you, he always felt as if he wasn’t in control. He felt like there were forces that were controlling your interactions and pulling a starry blanket over his feelings. He expected this time away to act as a purge, but it hadn’t, not in the way he’d anticipated.

 “Come on, her name is Becca, and she’s super cute,” Alisha said.

 “Why is it that all my brother’s wives want to set me up?”

 “Because we care. You’re too great of a guy to be alone,” Halley complimented.

 They all nodded, and his eldest brother painfully squeezed his cheek.

 “Plus, look at this face,” Nik teased, making all of them elate.

 It had been like this since they were kids. Nothing had changed.

 “I’m perfectly fine being alone,” he answered.

 “Doesn’t mean you should be,” Amee piped out.

 No matter what, he said it wouldn’t be good enough until he gave them what they wanted. He had no intention of doing it, though. He wasn’t sure if it was really his loathing of being set up or because he didn’t want to pretend to want anyone else. Whatever it was, it had him declining to their annoyance. He could stick it out for the next two weeks until he got out of London.

  -Aliya-

“You fucked up, plain and simple,” Amaya blurted out as she flipped through a magazine.

 You rolled your eyes and tried to continue writing notes to the song you’d just wrote. As sure as you were that it was pitch black outside, you knew she wasn’t done—not by a long shot. A minute passed in silence, but as projected, Amaya began again.

 “Just explain to me why you don’t want to be happy.” Amaya tossed the magazine aside, giving you her full attention. Still, you ignored her and kept your eyes glued to the note pad.

 “Liya, come on. At some point in your life, you’re going to have to be honest with yourself.”

 She was right. For the last few weeks, you’d spent a lot of sleepless nights doing just that. Since Henry’s call, you’d been forced to look at your situation in a light you’d ignored. It wasn’t that you were doing it maliciously. It was just easier and neater to see the worst in every situation hence the worst in people. You’d been the girl who dug deep for the best in people and only focused on that and their potential for too long. It made more sense from a survivalist standpoint to be different.

 You’d went back and forth and round and round your situation, and perhaps you were too quick to jump to conclusions. The bottom line was the things he said had affected you, more than you liked and more than you could ignore. A few days after his call, you saw his picture in The Sun. He wasn’t alone. It looked like he’d had a long night of partying. You deduced it was probably the same night he called you. Though he was obviously drunk, he still looked so damn good. In the last few weeks, you’d thought about him a lot. On several occasions, you’d taken up your phone for the sole purpose to stalk his Instagram or even scroll through your gallery to gawk at his pictures. Never though, did you attempt to call.

 The main reason was that you hated being the one in the wrong. You hated feeling like the asshole and what was worse was that you also hated apologizing. So, you bit your tongue, pushed your thoughts and emotions aside, and just hoped time would make it all fade. It didn’t.

 “Aliya!”

 Closing your notepad, you stood. “We’re going to miss the flight.”

 “Whatever! It’s a private jet. It’s your private jet.”

 You were already out of the room, which meant thankfully, you didn’t have to see her face. The drive to the private airfield was about forty-five minutes. For the entire ride, you could feel Amaya’s annoyance with you. she didn’t say one word. Instead, she kept her nose buried in her phone scrolling her life away. It was okay with you; you had plenty of work to do. Plus, you knew this wasn’t over, not by a long shot.

 Sure enough, twenty minutes into the flight to London, she was back at it. The difference between Amaya and Alicia was simple. Where Alicia liked to leave me be until she knew the perfect time to go in because she knew the perfect time would come when you would be more receptive to it, Amaya preferred to go in all the time. She was always on one hundred. You loved both your best friends dearly, and they both spoke to different sides of you, but sometimes you wished they were wrong a lot more often than they were right.

 When you got pulled into a phone meeting, you were grateful and even more so when it lasted for almost two hours. By the time you ended the call, Amaya was napping. Though you thought the silence was what you wanted, it was a blessing in disguise. It meant you now had peace and quiet to think, and your thoughts more often than not went right to Henry.

 When you landed in London and checked into the hotel, it was after midnight. Once you’d taken a shower and answered a few emails, you popped two sleep aids in hopes they would knock you out because you needed all your energy tomorrow.

  -The Next Day-

Hectic was an understatement for how your morning and afternoon had been going. One of the great things about being you was that when you got bored with one career avenue, you had three more to distract yourself with. For the last several months, you’d been focusing on your acting career and had been able to complete two films and three guest appearances. In between acting gigs you were also able to do a few modeling events, including Fall and Spring fashion week.

 What had fallen to the wayside was your singing career. It was almost time for you to fulfill your contractual obligations by releasing another album. You’d been focusing on writing new material for the last few weeks, and tonight you were putting on one of the last stops on a mini-tour your team had planned months ago. The travel alone was killing you. You were exhausted, even more than usual. With every show, you felt your body telling you it would soon be time to slow down or stop for a few months. You needed a break.

 “I should have flown in days ago. I hate feeling like this isn’t perfect.”

 “Aliya, it’s fine,” Alicia countered.

 The perfectionist in you didn’t believe her.

 “I promise. I wouldn’t lie to you. You have to go anyway. The show is supposed to start at six; it’s already three.”

 She was right. Though you hated it, you would have to cross your fingers and hope things looked cohesive. After finishing up the last-minute wardrobe adjustments and a quick pep talk with your dancers, you made your way back to the hotel to get in a little bit of pampering before having to get back to the center for prep.

 As you laid on the table and enjoyed your deep tissue massage, you allowed the worries to float away. There was nothing you could do about it now anyway. You were also sure it was perfectly fine, and just your obsessive nature taking over. Tuning everything out, you focused on your meditative breathing. Before you knew it, it was time to get back to the center to get into wardrobe and put on a show worthy of the hundreds that were spent on tickets. You were determined to perform your ass off.

  -Henry-

He couldn’t have gotten out of tonight no matter what. He’d tried. When Charlie announced to everyone that Heather had made plans for their adults' date night, he rolled his eyes. Now that he thought of it, it was around the time that Amee tried to set him up with that woman. This was supposed to be a blind date, and since he’d declined, he was here alone while all his other brothers were snuggling up and whispering to their significant others.

 Here he was an hour and ten minutes into your show, and he’d never had more fluctuating thoughts and feelings. At first, it was surprise; then annoyance, then it transitioned into awe until it moved to arousal and admiration. Now he was stewing deep in all of them, and it was not a good look. Your voice was incredible. He’d always known how talented you were. Your stamina to dance and sing blew his mind. Then when he watched those dance moves closer, it was impossible to keep his thoughts pure. It also didn’t help that the outfits you were wearing only fueled his imagination more.

 “What’s wrong with you? You said you liked Aliya Taylor,” Amee shouted over the music.

 Plastering a smile on his face, he nodded. “Yeah, she’s great. I’m tired.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

 When you came out for the final song in a flowing low cut white gown and barefoot, he staggered backward when he envisioned you walking down a flower aisle.

 “Fucking hell!”

 All eyes snapped to him, and the curious looks on their faces only had him needing air even more.

 “I—I’m gonna get a head start to the cars.”

 Not waiting for a response, he turned and walked through the crowd, not daring to look back at you.

   -Aliya-

Amaya and Alicia laughed together at something on Amaya’s timeline. No doubt it was some picture of one of her boy toys. You sipped from your flower decorated porcelain teacup while staring out over London to the Eye. Just behind it, Big Ben stood tall and proud as it chimes for four o’clock echoed through the city. This was a city you’d spent a lot of time in thanks to your grandparents on your father’s side. Not as much time as they’d like, but there was only so much free time you had. Big Ben and the Eye were two of your favorite things about London.

 You should have been on cloud nine after another successful show and checking another thing off your extensive to-do list, but you weren’t. You felt almost as gloomy as the rolling clouds in the sky that threatened rain.

 “You seem depressed.”

 Alicia’s voice had you turning back to them you softly smiled. “I’m not.”

 “You look it,” Amaya slid home.

 Rolling your eyes, you finished your cup of tea and gently placed it on its matching saucer with a shrug. “I don’t know what to tell you then.”

 Amaya then gasped with a smile in her eyes. “I know what it is. You’re finally missing your grade A prime beef of a man.”

 Snorting, you shook your head. “Oh god. Try again.”

 “You might be right, Mya,” Leece started placed her elbows on the table to peer at you closer. “This all started the night we had dinner with him. What’s his name again?” Both of them pretended to wrack their brains to remember his name, but they knew damn well what it was.

 “Ah, Henry,” Amaya cooed, making you roll your eyes even harder.

 “Both of you stop. You’re not funny.”

 “We approve.”

 “I second that,” Alicia added.

 “What? Really?”

 “Are you kidding? Yeah. Not only is he gorgeous, like drop dead gorgeous, but he is also super nice. Throughout dinner he was very courteous and sincere. You know I’m a good people reader,” Amaya attested.

 “He’s funny, and he seemed to be genuine with his efforts to get to know Mya and me. He also was putting in effort into proving something to you.”

 Sighing, you took a few sips of your water.

 “Honestly, I couldn’t find anything wrong with him.”

 “Really? Perfection?”

 You couldn’t believe your ears. Yes, you’d suspected they liked him, but the perfect word was just uttered. It was never spoken of, not by them.

 “Pretty much,” Amaya doubled down.

 “Wow.”

 “Tell me about it. Move on that before some other chick does. He will not be single for long,” Amaya added.

 For some reason, this was the first time you’d thought about that, and you couldn’t believe it. She was right. He was gorgeous, among other things, and women already fawned over him. He wouldn’t be licking his wounds much longer. A knot formed in your gut, and a sour taste in your mouth followed. Glancing away from their penetrative gazes, you looked around the restaurant and nearly dropped the water glass when you saw Henry across the restaurant laughing. This was the first time you’d seen him in person since your breakfast in New York weeks and weeks ago, and he looked great.

Your eyes drank him up, taking their time soaking up every detail of his face, the slight stubble that decorated his chiseled jaw, his perfectly imperfect smile, his hair that fell slightly longer than you remembered. When he spoke again, you watched his mouth move and quickly got lost. You didn’t have to hear his words. You knew how he spoke them. You knew the effect his voice had. At the thought of that effect, you peeled your eyes away and tried to keep them on either Alicia, Amaya, or the table. Of course, it was impossible. Your eyes continuously found him, and it was on him they remained until you forced yourself to look away.

 “What do you keep looking at?”

 Amaya glanced around the restaurant. You knew she’d found him because when she turned to face you again, her smile was as wide as a thief's.

 “Oh ho ho, looks like fate is on mine and Leece’s side.”

 “Stop. Be cool, act natural. Don’t make a scene,” you pleaded.

 “Look at that, same place, same time, just mere feet away.”

 From the tone of her voice, you knew she was tempted to fuck with you.

 “Stop, Amaya. Don’t.”

 “Why?”

 Trying to keep your voice down and the panic from your face, you pleaded again. “Just don’t.”

 Amaya studied you for a few moments before she nodded in defeat. Relief flooded you. Though you tried, you couldn’t get your head back onto lunch and off of him no matter how you tried. The three of you left shortly after passing his table on the way out.

 Thanks to a little free time, you, Amaya, and Alicia were able to soak up some shopping in London and before getting back to the hotel for a quick change, then dinner. Even though you tried to stop thinking about Henry’s face earlier, you weren’t the least bit successful, but you played it off like everything was cool. You didn’t know if you fooled either of them, but you really didn’t care. You were so ready to get the hell out of London.

  -That Night-

Big Ben’s chime for one in the morning ringing out all around you. It was yet another night of sleeplessness. From your seat at the window, you could feel the nice breeze. It still smelled like rain, but for whatever reason, the rain was staying away. Finishing your glass of wine, you sighed out and nearly leaped out your skin when your phone rang in the quiet room.

 “Hello?”

 “What’s wrong?”

 You smiled from the unexpected sound of your gramaw’s voice. It was like the concrete gate you had around your heart that was constricting it to the point where it was challenging to breathe loosened.

 Sighing, you leaned back, reclining against the surface.

 “I think I fell in love,” you whispered.

 “In love?”

 Hearing the words said back to you made you close your eyes and shake your head.

 “Yeah, at least I think that’s what I’m feeling. I can’t sleep well, not that I could before. I feel a little depressed, and I can’t pinpoint why, but when I think about it, I feel this way when I think about him. Not to mention, I think about him all the time. Christ, I even dream about him.”

 Pausing, you glanced at your phone to find his picture there. It was the last thing you’d been looking at before tossing your phone away.

 “I truly feel like I did something wrong, like I was wrong,” you confessed.

 “Have you talked to him?”

 Hitting your head back, you groaned. “Not since he called me and told me I’m missing out on him and gave me all the reasons why I should realizing I’m missing out.”

 You couldn't help but smile at his words as you remembered them.

 “Do you feel like you’re missing out?”

 Your Gramaw always knew the right questions to ask. She was one of the few that did, one of the few that you’d even listen to. Bowing your head, you sighed again.

 “Maybe. Normally I’m sure about someone and sure that I don’t need or want them in my life, but with him—I have doubts with my snap judgment.”

 “Oh no, snap judgments are never a good thing, Aliya.”

 You groaned hearing the disappointment in her voice. “I know, jeez do I know.”

 “What do you feel like doing?”

 You scoffed, if you knew that you wouldn’t be going through this struggle.

 “I’ll be to you in a few days. I’ll see you soon.”

 “Your heart, Aliya, not your head,” she cautioned before you ended the call.

 For the next thirty or so minutes, you paced the balcony of your room as you debated with yourself over what you were going to do. After psyching yourself up as much as you could, you bit the bullet dialing Henry’s number before you talked yourself out of it. After one ring, you almost hung up but forced yourself to stick through the terror running through you. Two rings passed, then three. At the fourth you began to lower your hand to end the call and then his voice echoed through the speaker.

 “Hello?”

 You froze drawing a blank and forgetting for a moment you had a voice.

 “Hello?”

 “Hello,” you whispered.

 The rustling on his end was loud but brief.

 “Aliya?”

 Swallowing the lump, you took a deep breath. “Yeah. Hi.”

 “It’s after one in the morning. Is everything all right? Are you hurt?”

 Your heart lurched, and a soft smile spread across your lips. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m not hurt,” you assured.

 He sighed, then yawned.

 “I uh—I know it’s late or early. I know you, um, probably have something better to do than be up. I’m sorry if I woke you,” you half rushed and stuttered out.

 “You’re rambling, Aliya.” You stopped your pacing then and slapped your forehead.

 “Yes, I am. I do that when I’m nervous,” you blurted.

 “Why are you nervous?”

 Pausing, you gripped the rail on the balcony and used it to center yourself and get your nerves under control.

 “Well, I’m about to ask the man I told I wouldn’t be with to meet me somewhere at nearly two in the morning. I’m—sending major mixed signals.”

 Henry didn’t speak right away. Instead, he waited, making you chew your bottom lip as your anxiety increased.

 “Why?”

 “Wh—why? Why what?”

 “Why should I?”

 Stunned, your jaw dropped. “Oh, wow, out with the hard questions. Okay. Um—well—you should meet me because uh—it’s not often that I realize I was wrong or did something wrong and when I realize that, I like to say so.”

 Again the silence over the phone stretched for long moments. After a full minute of it, your anxiety peaked.

 “Still there?”

 Henry sighed. “I’m here. I’m thinking.”

 His voice sounded so deliciously deep. Either you had woken him, and this was his sleepy voice, or he was purposely giving you that sexy baritone.

 “By all means. Think as long as you need to. Um—I’ll be at the eye until 2:30. I um—I hope you show. If you don’t, I understand, really I do and no hard feelings.”

 Quickly you ended the call and panted as if you’d been running a marathon all in an effort to calm yourself down. It had been years since you’d put yourself through something like that, and you had a feeling it was only the beginning of you making amends.

Being Aliya Taylor afforded you some perks, and one was being able to have access to the eye well after closing. All it took was one call, well two to be exact, and voila, you were sitting in one of the cars anxiously waiting for Henry. You had no idea if he’d show, and the more and more time that passed with him not magically appearing, the more and more your brain worked overtime. The scenery helped a lot, but when you glanced at your watch and saw that it was almost 2:30, the scenery could do no more. Your nerves and anxiety had erupted like a volcano.

 “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

 Spinning, you saw Henry at the door still on the platform. You released a relieved sigh, realizing he hadn’t stood you up.

 “Good thing I’m not—anymore.”

 Henry stepped into the car and took a few steps to you but stopped when he was still a ways away.

 “London after two is not safe,” Henry informed.

 “I know.”

 The doors closed, and the contraption began moving.

 “How in the world did you get them to open this for you?”

 Smiling, you shrugged. “I may know people in high places,” you replied, which made him smile.

“This is one of my favorite places in London,” you announced as you walked around the car, taking care not to get too close. You didn’t know if you could handle it right away, and you had to feel him out to see what his coming really meant.

 “Why?”

 “You can see all of greater London from here and out to the countryside if you really look once you’re up high.”

 Henry also walked around the car, mirroring your intentions. Neither of you came close enough to touch one another.

 “How often do you come to London?”

 “A lot. I have some family here, plus I prefer the countryside.”

 “So you have some British blood,” Henry inquired, half a question, half a statement.

 “I had to. Only the Bris would dare think to send their daughters off to finishing school,” you quipped.

 Henry’s laugh filled the car, making you smile widely. He walked to one of the many windows turning his back to you. Slowly you looked over his broad back, taking in every detail. Your fingers could still remember what the dance of his muscles felt like underneath them, and they itched to feel them dance again. Taking a deep breath, you fiddled your fingers.

 “Uh--I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important by asking you here. Like I hope I didn’t impose on—anyone.”

 You were fishing, it was obvious, and you felt no shame.

 “Eh, who needs sleep anyway. I can sleep when I’m dead,” Henry replied with a shrug of those magnificent shoulders still keeping his back to you.

 “Were um--were you uh—sleeping—alone?”

 Your heart was pounding so loudly you could swear he could hear it. He didn’t speak or turn around. He just stood there torturing you. You wondered if he knew it was sheer torture what he was doing. Did he even care? The longer he remained quiet, the more you freaked out until you decided to backtrack all the way back.

“I’m sorry. Don’t answer that. It is absolutely none of my business. I don’t even know why I asked that,” you rushed out, rubbing your forehead from embarrassment before beginning to pace the car.

 That was when Henry chose to turn around.

 “I know a woman doesn’t say something she doesn’t mean, and usually when a woman asks a question, she wants to know the answer either to prove herself right or in hopes she’s wrong. What is it for you?”

 His voice made you stop in the midst of pacing to watch his mouth as he spoke. There was something poetic about how he spoke, and it always distracted you. Nibbling your bottom lip, you thought about how to respond. You were already tired of the verbal Olympics and talking around each other.

 Sighing, you rolled your eyes. “Henry--.”

 “You know that’s the first time you’ve said my name without the word goodbye in front of it.”

 That made you snap your mouth shut. Had it?

 “That’s not true,” you protested.

 “It actually is. I was beginning to think you like saying goodbye rather than hello.”

 You took a step to him. “That’s not true. I like saying hello way more than goodbye,” you defended.

 The neutral look on his face gave you no confidence to go on, so you rolled your eyes and continued to walk around the car. This would be harder than you expected, you thought.

 “I was sleeping alone. I’ve slept alone for quite some time now,” he informed just as you were looking out of the window to the city.

 “Look, Henry, I-,” you began again, but then henry cut you off.

 “That day in New York those weeks ago, I should have plain and simply laid it out for you. I should have told you everything. I was with Francesca--.”

 “Don’t, don’t, don’t. I honestly don’t want to know.”

 “But you need to know. There is no way you can begin to trust me or begin to let yourself gravitate to me the way you’re entire being wants until you know,” Henry slid out. Pressing your palm to your abdomen, you tried to slow the butterflies that began flitting.

 “I was with Francesca for about two years. The whole time I knew she wanted a family in life. She was always vocal about her wanting to get married young and have kids. I knew, but I never paid attention to it. I was away filming something for a while, and when I came home one weekend, I caught her with someone else.”

 Your eyes widened, hearing his words.

 “turns out she was beginning a relationship with someone else, someone who she thought would lead to marriage and kids,” Henry added. His voice held steady, but you could imagine the pain going through those memories again.

 “I’m sorry.”

 Henry shook his head, “It’s not necessary. After a few months of her trying to make amends, I thought we’d try again.” He scoffed then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m a hopeless romantic. After months of trying, I knew it wouldn’t work, but I kept a relationship of sorts with her.”

 You understood. They were bed buddies.

 “I then met Abby, and what started as a fling developed into something more. Long story short, I got wind of a rumor she was using me for fame and money, so I distanced myself from her. after some time of her telling I had it all wrong, I decided it was easier keeping her around though my heart wasn’t in it. I wasn’t juggling them. I hadn’t slept with either of them in a long time. I just—I felt it was better to have someone who misses me and wants me than living the lonely actor life.”

 His honesty had you frozen. When he began to explain, you hadn’t expected him to reveal so much. You expected a bare minimum explanation, but what you’d gotten revealed so much more about him. You felt bad.

 “I guess allowing the attentions and affections to remain is just as bad as juggling them. I was playing with their hearts. I’m not proud of it.”

 Henry dipped his head, showing he felt some shame for his actions.

 “When I met you, I realized although I had these two women sort of vying for me, I was still lonely, but those moments we were together, I didn’t feel alone. I felt--,” he paused as if trying to find the right word. His hesitation made you look down.

 You knew what you’d felt.

 “When I met you, I felt someone I’d never felt before, something I don’t fully understand. I don’t know what that means, but I know I want to find out—with you.”

 Finally, able to release the breath you held, you took another, then cleared your throat. “I’m not juggling two guys. I was dating two guys, but not sleeping with both. I was with Liam first, and we had an okay relationship. We were busy, never saw each other and when we did it wasn’t for long. He um—he got annoyed and broke up with me. He said I was impacting his work, and he needed to focus.”

 You remembered how he’d said it too. He’d said it like you were the one to blame for the roles he’d gotten or hadn’t gotten.

 “I was fine with it, and during those five months apart, I met Jesse. We worked together and had fun and began dating. It wasn't anything sexual. Then Liam comes back and wants to pick up where we left off. I told him about Jesse, and he was fine with it.”

 The shock on Henry’s face almost made you laugh. Alicia and Amaya were also surprised they’d chosen that unconventional path. Amaya, of course, thought you should have kept it secret from both of them.

 “One day, Jesse sees Liam and me out, and it pissed him off enough to end things. Three weeks later, I lay it out for both that I don’t want to choose, and I don’t want anything serious. They were both fine with it, and so it went on. Six months later, I decided I needed to be on my own to focus on work and me. They didn’t like the decision. They call and text me to try to—rekindle something.”

 Henry scoffed, and you watched a soft smile tickle his lips.

 “I haven’t physically seen either of them in weeks, now maybe months,” you finished.

 Henry was quiet for a few seconds before he snorted.

 “They were mad.”

 “Angry?”

 “No, mad, bonkers,” Henry clarified.

 “Oh, crazy.”

 “Yeah. To be okay to share you, be willing to do something like that. I couldn’t do that,” Henry informed, making you smile in the process.

 “Well, men do crazy things.”

 “I can attest to that, but I’d never do something that crazy. I can’t share what’s mine. I won’t.”

 Your eyes locked, and your body swayed toward his. It was like he was metal and you a magnet. Everything in you wanted to be close to him. The more you tried to fight the pull, the harder it became to breathe. The harder it was to breathe, the dizzier you became.

 “I—I—I—I,” you began before gulping the knot in your throat down that was making you speak in a raspy whisper. “I don’t—know what this is.”

 Henry nodded.

 “I am not used to not knowing and being out of control,” you continued.

 “You feel less controlled too?”

 You couldn't help but to nod. Once you did, Henry took a step to you. You took a step back.

 “Hold on. I like control. I like control a lot. Anything that threatens that control is not for me.”

 Henry’s eyes lowered but only for a moment before he was looking right back into yours.

 “But—I really want to find out why you make me less controlled,” you finally admitted.

 The uncertainty on his face spoke volumes.  “What does that mean? Where does that leave this—us?”

 You chewed your bottom lip; you realized how ill-prepared you’d been.

 “Honestly, I didn’t think this meeting out that far. I only planned up to when you showed up. I’ve um—I’ve been winging it this whole time.”

 His smile started small but spread wide in seconds; then, he laughed loudly.

 “So you won’t mind me making a plan?”

 Oh lord, you thought, feeling his alpha pop out. You bit your bottom lip again.

 “What kind of plan?”

 Henry closed the remaining space between you. Every step he took had you shaking even more.

 “A plan that I’ve envisioned every night since brunch.”

Stopped in front of you and held you captivated by his gaze and the sheer dominating energy rolling off of him. The way he stood there taller than you made your mouth run dry.

 “Jesus, you’re freakishly short,” Henry teased in his perfect Englishman voice.

 Smiling, you shook your head. “I know, I debated wearing heels but didn’t—I wanted you to see me normal for someone reason I don’t under--.”

 Henry’s sudden movement cut you off. He dipped down the entire foot he overshadowed you and lifted you into the air to hold you flush against his body. Then he lowered his lips to yours, taking and keeping control of an intensely passionate kiss. A kiss you hadn’t known you craved until it began, a kiss you were not prepared for. You moaned against his lips, and that moan triggered his. Wrapping your arm around his neck, you clung to him, and every sensation you were feeling and even new ones he was awakening within you.

 Slowly, Henry pulled his lips from your, but he kept your body to his. You kept your eyes closed, relishing the lingering effects.

 “You’re shaking,” Henry whispered.

 “So are you.”

 You opened your eyes and gazed into his as he slowly lowered you back to your feet.

 “What else is part of your plan?”

 Henry's smile spread across his face. “For me to carry out any other part of my plan would be completely rakish of  me.”

 His smile was adorable, but still intimidatingly sexy.

 “I take it you’re not a rake.”

 “Not in the least.”

 “All right. So, alternate plan?”

 He smiled again. “Still pretty rakish.”

 With that, he brought his lips back to yours, but this time he didn’t pull back for several long minutes.

 Though you knew people in high places, it didn’t mean you could keep the eye open all morning. After three trips around, the two of you got off then walked around London holding hands and eating ice cream. It was such a weird sensation allowing someone to hold your hand. It had been a long time since you’d ever wanted to. The entire time you laughed and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. One thing was clear; neither of you was in any rush for your time together to end.

 But end, it had to. When Henry walked you back to your hotel, it was almost time for the sun to come up.

 “Home safe and sound,” Henry joked.

 “Yes, thanks to Superman.”

 “No, no, I’m just the man. Henry Cavill.”

 He held his hand out to you. Smiling, you rolled your eyes.

 “Now is when we get to this?”

 His goofy smile and shrug had your head skip a beat.

 “Aliya Taylor,” you said, shaking his hand.

 “Nice to meet you. Mind if I call you Aliya or Liya, that's all a mouthful,” Henry teased.

 Your laugh was loud, and you had to clamp your hand over your mouth, remembering what time it was.

 “Yes, you can call me either. Can I call you Henners or Hank?”

 “No. My friends call me that.”

 “So, I’m not your friend?”

 “If I have anything to say about it, which I do, then no. I don’t want you as a friend.” Henry replied, making you smile like a little girl at Christmas.

 “Then what do you want me as?”

 Your eyes lingered for a few seconds before Henry was pulling you closer to brush the back of his hand against your cheek.

 “For now, I’ll settle for my girlfriend.”

 The man was an expert at charm. You bit into your bottom lip and tried to stop smiling. “Girlfriend, wow. That’s a loaded title. What does it entail?”

 “Well, for one, it entails being your true self with me, accepting my true self, being there for me when I need you, letting me be there for you when you need me or when I need you, allowing me to be your strength when you’re weak, your hope when you’re hopeless. Allowing me to grow with you, learn with you. Giving me your time and attention, enough of it so what we have can grow. Trusting me and letting me spoil you rotten.”

 If he weren’t holding you against him, you would have fallen back.

 “Is that all?”

 Henry leaned closer kisses your cheek. “To begin.”

 “And if I refused to be this girlfriend you speak of?”

 “Then I’d just have to convince you,” Henry cooed.

 “How?”

 Right on que, Henry dipped his lips to yours. The second they touched, you moaned and held him close. Why resist when you could enjoy it, you thought. His tongue swirled with yours before he nibbled then sucked your bottom lip. When he pulled back, your eyes remained closed.

 “I’m convinced.”

 Henry pecked your lips once, then twice. “Good. Girlfriend.”

 Your eyes locked again, and you forgot all common sense for what felt like an eternity.

 “Eh-em—I have to be on a set in the morning.”

 “Which is now,” Henry filled in.

 Still hazed in the brain, you stuttered and smiled like a fool.

 “Mm, did I stay out all night?”

 “You did. I hope it was worth it.”

 Smiling, you kissed his jaw. “We’ll see,” you whispered as you backed away from him, making your way to the door.

 “Good morning, Henry.”

 He smiled again, watching you disappear inside the hotel. As you walked to the elevator bank, you couldn’t stop smiling or stop the butterflies that had been flying all night in your stomach. As you stepped onto the elevator and watched the doors closed, you recognized the feeling you felt as happiness. It had been absent for a long time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[shortnotsweet]

The Allegory of the Tin Man, the Dictator, and the Knight: a Dissection of Ironqrow and a Character Arc of Failure

“There lived in the Land of Oz two queerly made men who were best of friends. They were so much happier when together that they were seldom apart.”

— L. Frank Baum

A brief Ironqrow meta and character analysis of James Ironwood, the ultimate screw up, in three parts.

I. Qrow and Ironwood’s Homoeroticism in Canon Source Material and its Translation

II. Ironwood’s Repressed Characterization and the Inherent Chivalry of the Dictatorship

III. Ironwood, Alone

Qrow and Ironwood’s Homoeroticism in Canon Source Material and its Translation

Within the Oz series, the Tin Man and the Scarecrow are layered within homoerotic subtext, even if it is included unintentionally. Tison Pugh’s analysis Queer Utopianism and Antisocial Eroticism in L. Frank Baum's Oz Series posits that the land of Oz as portrayed within the series is a largely asexual environment of suspended adolescence that involves the deviation of binary gender norms, and of performative heterosexuality. Pugh refers to it later as a “queer utopia”. Men are portrayed as a lesser military force to women, and heterosexuality is a flimsy presence at best; all signs of procreation within Oz are stifled. While this could be chalked down to Baum not wanting to get into the subject of sex and exploration in a children’s series, it does contribute to a particular tone with real-life critiques of capitalism and a particular deconstruction of gender norms. Ozma, who will become the ruler of Oz after the Wizard and the Scarecrow respectively, for example, is originally a boy named Tip (the name itself holds phallic implications) who is “transformed” into a girl. The strongest military force is one of all-women led by a rebellious female general. Pugh observes, “At the same time that Baum satirizes...women as leaders…he consistently depicts women as more successful soldiers than men, and female troops appear better capable of serving militarily than male troops…[the] male army comprises of twenty-six officers and one private, and they are all cowards…” and cites the Frogman’s declaration that “Girls are the fiercest soldiers of all...they are more brave than men, and they have better nerves”.

RWBY itself isn’t opposed to this kind of subversion, either in its characters or its relationships. There’s an obvious effort to include LGBTQ+ representation (albeit primarily in the background), strong female characters are prevalent and make up most of the main and supporting cast, a character’s gender is not strictly reliant on its source material, and BlackSun, while cute and a valid ship in its own right, is treated as a heterosexual red herring to Bumbleby. Additionally, there have been a lot of hints by the voice actors, writers, and creators on social media that Qrow himself is queer, the infamous Ironqrow embrace included.

Admittedly, if I wanted to write an essay about the likelihood of Qrow being LGBTQ+ or having some kind of queer identity, I would probably focus more on his relationship with Clover, which had a lot more overt and probably canonically intentional Gay Vibes, and despite having known Qrow nowhere near as long as Ironwood has, it has just as much, if not more, to extrapolate. Unfortunately, that’s not the main point of this essay, although it remains relevant. While I personally don’t doubt that Qrow has had sex with women or experiences valid sexual attraction to them, I get the feeling that it is, to a degree, a performative act and a masculine assertation of enjoyment intended as a coping mechanism. It plays into the trope of the handsome, tortured alcoholic (best exemplified, perhaps, in the MCU’s Tony Stark, Dean Winchester in Supernatural, and critiqued in the superhero episode of Rick and Morty) who sleeps around just to recall the feeling of intimacy, or because he associates sexual ‘degradation’ as a reflection of his worth. Real self-deprecating, slightly misogynistic stuff. Qrow’s recall of short skirts, as well as his brief exchange with the waitress in an earlier volume, reminds me of one specific interaction between the Scarecrow and his own love interest. Within the series, the Qrow’s source-material counterpart, the Scarecrow, has one canonical love interest, the Patchwork Girl:

“Forgive me for staring so rudely,” said the Scarecrow, “but you are the most beautiful sight my eyes have ever beheld.”

“That is a high compliment from one who is himself so beautiful,” murmured Scraps, casting down her suspender-button eyes by lowering her head.

Pugh points out that the two of them never develop this relationship further than flirtation, and heterosexuality is reduced to a “spectral presence” lacking the “erotic energy [driving] these queer narratives in their presence”. Specifically, Qrow never reveals a serious or long running heterosexual love interest - he is not the father! [of Ruby] (despite much speculation that he and Summer Rose were involved) and he and Winter never really moved past the stage of ‘hostility with just a hint of sexual tension’ - and there is no debunking of potential queerness. His interactions with Clover (deserving of an entire essay on its own) seem to support this interpretation, and is more or less a confirmation of some kind of queer inclination or identity. Again, the “queer utopia” of Oz comes at the cost of the expulsion of the sexual or the mere mention of reproduction - still, through this device, same-sex relationships gain a new kind of significance with the diminishing nature of heterosexuality. Speaking of queer narratives, the Scarecrow and the Tin Man have the most tender and prolonged relationship of perhaps all the characters in the series, exchanging a lifelong commitment:

“I shall return with my friend the Tin Woodman,” said the stuffed one seriously. “We have decided never to be parted in the future.”

Within the source material, the Tin Man and the Scarecrow voluntarily live together, and are life partners in nearly every sense of the word. The second book in the Oz series is The Tin Woodman of Oz. In summary, the Tin Woodman recalls that he had a fiancée before the events of the first book, forgot all about her, and now must search her out so that they can get married. Who does he ask to accompany him in this pursuit? None other than his no-homo life partner, the Scarecrow. Although this sounds like a stereotypical heteronormative storyline, “this utopian wonderland...rejects heterosexual procreation...First, the Tin Woodman does not desire...Nimmie Amee...” and even acknowledges that due to the ‘nature’ of the heart that the Wizard had given him, he is literally incapable of romantically or passionately loving or desiring Nimmie, and by extent, women in general - to me, that works perfectly as an allegory for a gay man who is literally incapable of experiencing legitimate heterosexual urges, but ‘soldiers on’ out of obligation and societally enforced chivalry. “The Tin Woodman excuses himself from the heteronormative imperative...Only his sense of masculine honor, rather than a heteronomratively masculine sex drive, impels the Tin Woodman on his quest to marry his long-lost fiancée.” Again, Ironwood’s character follows the lines of propriety within the sphere of the wealthy elite, and his persona as a high-ranking military man and politician, as well as the conservative values instilled within Atlas, prioritize duty and obligation. This kind of culture is stifling and in a lot of ways aloof, as the upper class deludes itself into believing that it is objectively better and more advanced than its neighboring territories. *ahem the myth of American exceptionalism ahem*

“There lived in the Land of Oz two queerly made men who were best of friends. They were so much happier when together that they were seldom apart.”

I think it’s funny that the characters that Ironwood and Qrow are based off of are canonically the closest of friends, who coexist almost as a unit. In contrast, the first introduction we get of Ironwood and Qrow is a hostile exchange where they’re at each other’s throats, never on the same page, and never in sync, not when it matters. Indeed, Qrow snaps at Ironwood for his lack of communication, which is a recurring issue between the two of them on notable occasions. If the source material is anything to go by, there should be a significant relationship between the two of them, or at least some kind of connection, even if it goes unspoken or unacknowledged. To be fair, in RWBY’s canon, I think there is.

I’ve seen this joke that while Qrow hates the Atlas military, the only people he really seems to flirt with is Atlas military personnel. “Ice Queen” is something I interpreted to be partially hostile, partially mocking, and partially flirtatious, in equal spades - the voice actors and creators have indicated that it was flirtatious, and there was a whole Chibi episode dedicated to the concept of Qrow and Winter’s extrapolated sexual tension, albeit in jest. I might argue that his use of abbreviates aren’t reserved for people he dislikes, but for people who bring out his playful side. “Brat”, “Pipsqueak”, “Firecracker”, and “Kiddos” are all drawn from a place of affection, however short or mocking it may seem, because that’s what crows do: they mock others.

Qrow has little nicknames for people; while it’s not exclusively a sign of affection, I do get the feeling that ‘Jimmy’ is an informality that irks Ironwood, but can also be interpreted as Qrow giving James what he needs, rather than what he wants.

Glynda is by no means a pushover, but in assuring him that while he does questionable things, he’s still a good person, she’s softening the blow and probably further enabling deeply rooted and pre-existing traits, many of which contribute to his problematic control complex. It is established early on that Qrow resents the military (as he should), and it is implied that he’s spent a fair amount of encounters harassing and provoking military personnel (Winter being the most evident example of this), and has insulted the military numerous times to Ironwood’s face. He lectures Ironwood about the way he conducts his operations, his inability to communicate, and basically what a complete, inconsiderate asshole he really is.

What Ironwood needs is someone who operates outside of the pretense that he works, breathes, and lives under, and just tells it like it is. Jimmy isn’t all that - he’s a person, just like the rest of us, and he can flaunt all the titles that he wants, but James stripped down is still just Jimmy.

Qrow also is the kind of person who pries, who is insistent, and not particularly sensitive. For someone like Ironwood who has a lot of (physical and emotional) barriers, logically, in order for him to receive genuine understanding, Qrow fits the profile of someone who is invasive but not exploitive, who sees past the cracks in his armor and takes him for what he is. What is just important is that whoever Ironwood is with is someone who makes him want to try not only to be better, but to be real; thematically, General Ironwood seems to have a great respect for but a deep struggle with authenticity. He clearly resents the ignorance and frivolity of Atlas’s wealthy elite, as evidenced by his support for Weiss at the dinner party in announcing that “she’s one of the only people making any sense around here”, while struggling to project the facade that he’s carefully created.

See, we don’t have evidence that there is something going on between Ironqood and Qrow so much as we have enough evidence to inconclusively say that there’s not not something going on. I think there’s enough evidence to support the idea that something could be going on, or was going on.

When Qrow saves Ironwood at the Battle of Beacon, who is under the false impression that Qrow believes him to be the culprit of the attacks, his eyes follow Qrow and we get a closer shot of his awed expression; we the viewer can only imagine what he sees as Qrow arcs through the air and slices down a Grimm from behind his back. The focus on Ironwood’s expression portrays something like shock (so Qrow wasn’t trying to attack me after all, but then what the hell is he doing?), maybe wonder (I can’t take my eyes off of him, I can’t look away), maybe respect (I know he’s a good Hunter, but I’ve rarely seen him in action), but it is unfiltered nonetheless. In a show where fight scenes are vital to the progression of the story itself, the dynamics of these fights are at their best when they are character driven, whether it is revealing or reinforcing something about the characters and their relationships, or it is deciding their fates. There’s something to be said about characters being given moments together in battles, and what that says about the significance of their relationship. The best example of this might be the battle between Blake and Yang vs Adam; it served to give Adam what he deserved, help Blake and Yang reach closure in certain aspects of their own trauma, and solidify the bond between the girls. Similarly, Qrow and Ironwood’s moment is meant to reveal a theme that will later be revisited in volume 7; trust. Ironwood is startled but not shocked when he believes that Qrow distrusts him to the degree of attacking him, and is ready to attack or defend as needed.

Qrow tells him what he needs to hear, more or less: YOU’RE A DUMBASS. Ironwood is, indeed, a dumbass. While he does extend the olive branch of trust and good will to CRWBY and co. this trust is highly conditional and proves to be, while from a place of desperation and sincerity, at least partially performative.

When Ironwood snaps, he snaps hard.

Amber’s voice actress tweeted early on, joking that Qrow has two Atlas boyfriends, and Arryn has made comments, too. It’s one of the older ships, and the crew is certainly aware of it (“...extended chest bump...”).

Kerry has stated that he finds the Ironqrow relationship interesting, and wishes it had been explored more (additionally, allegedly lobbying that Ironwood’s arm in the Ironqrow hug scene be slightly lower). I’m not saying that they’re going to both make it out alive, or canon, or even that romantic subtext was intentionally woven into the script. All I’m saying is that I think their relationship is interesting too, especially when the subtext of their source material relationship is taken into context, and the way their characters are positioned is suggestive of some sort of compatibility, even if it is a hit or miss kind of opportunity, and I have the sinking suspicion that it was missed on both accounts.

The Tin Woodman of Oz concludes,

“All this having been happily arranged, the Tin Woodman returned to his tin castle, and his chosen comrade, the Scarecrow, accompanied him on the way. The two friends were sure to pass many pleasant hours together in talking over their recent adventures, for as they neither ate nor slept they found their greatest amusement in conversation.”

Ironwood’s Repressed Characterization and the Inherent Chivalry of the Dictatorship

“I don’t give a damn about Jacque Schnee...what about the other two? Do not return to this office until you have Qrow Branwen in custody.”

“And that’s not all we’ve lost...I had Qrow in my hands, and I didn’t do what needed to be done.”

Observe: Ironwood, at this point, does not care about politics. I doubt he’s ever wanted to, or ever liked it (if his tired outburst at the dinner party is any indication) but his Knightly qualities (we’ll get to that) have, up till this point, prompted him to adhere to them for both power and etiquette. James surrounds himself in a world that he understands and despises; more than anything, he’d like to be a general, a commander, and the Knight in Shining Armor archetype, because warfare is something he understands. It is a testament to his (superhuman) willpower that he forces himself to become fluent in the language of politics, and to live and breathe in it. To clarify, Ironwood sees himself as a man who does what needs to be done; if he wants to change and control Atlas, he will have to involve himself in its politics.

Likely, his resilience has contributed to the way he views himself and what he deserves, as someone long-suffering and almost martyr-like, a silent hero doing what needs to be done. But at the moment, he’s lost his goddamn mind coming undone. He’s murdered and jailed his political dissent (and might have considered executing prisoners), but at this point, that’s all that Jacque and Robyn are to him. First he dismisses Jacque, narrows it down to the two escaped prisoners, and finally reveals what’s really on the forefront of his mind: Qrow, free and out of his hands.

[ When recalling this dialogue, please do so while imagining a bad recorder cover of the Titanic music playing over the background. Here is a sample. ]

In the most recent episode, Ironwood seems to have gone off the rails even further. The fact that Winter, his most faithful lieutenant, is losing her unshakable faith in him, says a lot about how hard he’s fallen off the deep end. In Winter’s mind, I think that she sees him almost as a surrogate father figure, or at least a patriarch who can be positively compared to Jacques in every way. The previous volumes go to lengths to compare the two as adversaries and showing James in a favorable light; Winter is in her own personal horror right now, because she is beginning to understand that Ironwood is a man who may not be her father but is just as susceptible to corruption, and may have been that kind of person all along. Skipping over the...ah, genocidal tendencies, and the fact that he’s proposing to kidnap Penny’s friends to force her to obey him and likely is starting to realize that Winter is the perfect bait (let’s just say that “Ironwood is not good with kids” is the understatement of the year) Ironwood wants Qrow back (in captivity), I think that it’s significant that while Ironwood registers that Robyn is gone as well, his first priority is Qrow, probably for two reasons. On one hand, he still refers to Qrow by his first name, instead of the formal Branwen. Of course, that doesn’t have to mean anything at all. They’re colleagues within the same age range, both members of the same secret brotherhood and similiar skill sets.

On the other hand, it reminds me of the moment when Qrow and the kids first fly into Atlas, and they see the heightened security, and Qrow mutters, “James...what have you been doing,” under his breath, sounding concerned, apprehensive. He’s not addressing the kids, he’s talking to himself; he regards James much more seriously both as a potential threat and a friend than he’d rather the other know, and I think that James’ focus on Qrow at this point is similiar, only not only is this a sign of them knowing each other well, but of Ironwood’s slipping control. He offered Qrow his trust and camaraderie, his last attempt to keep a handle on his humanity (or, his heart). Qrow, in return, withheld vital information, got close with another operative instead, then allegedly killed him and and escaped ‘rightful’ imprisonment.

The Tin Man is offering Qrow his heart, at least proof of it, and the Scarecrow [and co.] steps back to observe the situation, and assesses that no, what you are going to do is wrong, and I cannot agree with it.

Ironwood is not an objective person, as much as he wants to be. He’s angry, desperate, scared, and humiliated. Worst of all, he’s rebuffed, and he’s taking Qrow’s escape personally. First, he understands that Qrow is a threat. He’s Ozpin’s best agent, he has years of field experience, and he knows too much, probably more than James knows. Second, they have history.

My personal interpretation of Ironwood is something this:

He’s a sad, sad, lonely bitch. What Ironwood longs for, just like his source material counterpart, is a heart. He will go to any lengths to achieve this, because he believes that he has self awareness and therefore is able to check and balance himself. He treats his subordinates well, is diplomatic, skilled in a variety of trades, fighting the good fight, and longs for the affirmation that yes, he is a good person, and yes, he’s had a heart all along. He just strays from the path, and loses his way.

This is symbolically represented by his partially mechanic exoskeleton; we have no idea how far the cyborg extremities extend, or how deep, but we do get the visual notion of humanity in conflict, or a man’s soul deconstructed and split between the cold efficiency of machinery and the very real warmth of a human body. Ironwood wants to appear human, and benevolent, and genuine, and in return, loved; he is human, and he could be all of these things. If my reliance on the source material holds any merit (although I highly doubt it), then there is also a potential struggle with sexuality, (Glynda herself even explicitly and exasperatedly references a testosterone battle between Ironwood and Qrow, suggesting a regular overassertation of masculinity) and a further incentive to achieve love and subsequent acceptance.

To clarify, I do believe that there were less-than-subtle allusions to Ironwood and Glynda having a vaguely flirtatious history, taking their shared scenes and background dancing into account, but this, again, does not “debunk” the presence of queerness within a narrative; it could be an assumption of heterosexuality, or performative itself, or just not an exclusive interest. Besides, Ironwitch isn’t what this essay is about. I’m not trying to persuade or dissuade someone of the notion that Jimmy is gay, or straight, or something else, only that the potential ambiguity exists. What I do think is most important is that James doesn’t openly ward people away, not when those people aren’t under his command and are technically outside of his jurisdiction. He’s friendly with Glynda, tries to extend trust to Qrow, is kind to people in the aftermath of battle, and overall clings to diplomacy as his first weapon. He wants to be accepted, to be liked, and to be welcomed. This is not an outrageous want, nor is it uncommon. Unfortunately, Ironwood’s understanding of love and acceptance is entangled within the concept of control, and he associates unquestioned compliance with this Want.

Ironwood’s introduction into the series shows him being openly cordial, and very considerate, especially his interactions with Glynda and Ozpin. He’s a gentleman, he’s apologetic, and, as Glynda assures him, he’s a “good man”. She doesn’t really elaborate on what a “good man” is, exactly, but we might presume that a “good man” is a person with good intentions, who strives to do what’s right, regardless of his options.

Here’s the thing - one similarity between Ironwood and the Tin Man is that they both have the capacity to love, but they fool themselves into thinking that they don’t; before the Wizard gives him a ‘heart’, the Tin Man suggests that he is only kind and considerate to everyone in Oz because he believes he needs to overcompensate for what he lacks, and is therefore doubly aware of how he treats others. However, the Wizard knows no real magic, only tricks and illusions, and what he gives the Tin Man is essentially a placebo that enables the Tin Man to act towards and feel about others the exact same as he always had, only with the validation that what he feels is authentic. Similarly, Ironwood has always had the option to be empathetic and not fucking crazy open to collaboration, which he’s very aware of, until his own paranoia cuts into his rationality and compels him to cut himself off from all allies and alternative perspectives. He then uses his difficult position and responsibilities to justify unjustifiable actions, to rationalize irrational urges, and to gaslight and brainwash his subordinates into compliance.

The Tin Woodman knew very well he had no heart, and therefore he took great care never to be cruel or unkind to anything.

“You people with hearts,” he said, “have something to guide you, and need never do wrong; but I have no heart, and so I must be very careful. When Oz gives me a heart of course I needn’t mind so much.”

Qrow sees through this, however, and not only seems incapable of following orders himself, but disrupts the decorum that Ironwood is used to. In return, I think we see a little more of James that he’d like to reveal.

“If you were one of my men, I’d have you shot!”

“If I was one of your men, I’d shoot myself!”

In case this entire ass essay doesn’t make it obvious, I do really ship Ironqrow. I’m open to other pairings, definitely, but this one in particular is just more interesting to me. It feels more revealing, more subtle. I have more questions.

In hindsight, maybe the dialogue example above ^ didn’t age well, considering where they’re at, but I do like how their professional animosity is flavored with a kind of camaraderie, and understanding. This exchange isn’t exactly playful, but they’re taking each other seriously - and, like repressed schoolboys, taking the piss at each other in a childish way, and isn’t that part of the fun of banter, when they’re so focused on each other that they forget to act their age? In a lot of ways, this is a really fun dynamic to watch. They’re opposite-kind-of-people, which I like, at least on a superficial level, and I can easily imagine them tempering each other in ways that would make them ultimately happier people.

They even look well-coordinated, with similar color schemes that lean on the opposite sides of the shared spectrum (white, grays, reds and black); I think the decorative design on Qrow’s new sleeves are supposed to be more ornate simply to communicate that Qrow is committed, and willing to be sentimental, but some viewers have suggested that it resembles the pattern on James’ weapon, Due Process (the revolver is based off of the Tin Man’s pistol, although, curiously, in The Wizard of Oz, the Scarecrow was the only character to carry a pistol, and the commentaries suggest that the 2007 Tin Man miniseries was the “basis of the allusion”. Does that mean anything? I don’t know. Probably not.). Still, it raises the questions: who was in charge of designing the team’s new clothes and gear? How much input did Atlas get, and was this intentional? Personally, I think that the vine-like pattern on Qrow’s sleeves also bear a resemblance to Ozpin’s staff, a subtle reaffirmation and foreshadowing of his allegiance in contrast to Ironwood, but I digress.

They can also deliver that UST kind of banter that takes up their attention, and get up really close to each other, in each other’s faces, and just be pissed, which I think is very sexy of them, mhm. Enemies to Colleagues to Reluctant Friends to Lovers is a trope that I very much appreciate. Gaining some sort of common ground at the Battle of Beacon only to reunite, tired and battered, after the shit has already hit the fan? Slow burn kinda vibes.

That hug between them was something genuinely vulnerable and a sign of Ironwood letting his guard down because he is tired as fuck. It also was uh...kinda fruity.

Ironwood approaches closer, and Qrow scratches the back of his head, a characteristically nervous gesture that he’s made before; it’s a nervous twitch, manufactured nonchalance. He has no idea what Ironwood wants, but he does know that Ironwood wants something. James is the one to initiate the hug, and Qrow startles and even freezes up before relaxing into it. He seems suprised, but gives the bisexual eye roll of grudging fondness. This is out of character for James - Jimmy - but Qrow doesn’t think that Ironwood is a bad person. He leans into the hug, and the camera cuts out before they separate, suggesting that they probably end up standing there for a long ass time. You can also see from the side shots that it’s a close hug; their torsos are pressed up against each other, front to front, and there’s not a lot of wiggle room. James must be really goddamn depressed. It’s a long, manly, intensley heterosexual hug. Like I said, kinda fruity.

Other people have analyzed the hug shot for shot, so I won’t get too into it, but I think that it was intentionally left as a double red herring; some people thought that maybe he bugged Qrow, and after finding out that he didn’t, we were forced to conclude that this is a genuine olive branch. To find out that Ironwood is sincere but was still susceptible to corruption is that second subversion that I didn’t really expect. I hadn’t prepared myself for it, at least, and neither did Qrow. I wouldn’t go as far to say that Ironwood’s descent into fucking craziness paranoia is triggered by Qrow not ‘reciprocating’ or something, but I do think it’s interesting how the volume opens up with a signifigant interaction between Ironwood and Qrow, only for Qrow to spend the rest of the volume homosexually bonding with Clover, while Ironwood basically has no one as emotional support (again, his subordinates do not have the power or the place to be viewed as equals and the veil of formality is one of isolation). Qrow initiates nothing further, and nothing further happens.

Ironwood’s downfall, in a thematic sense, is that what he Needs is a heart, and when he gets that chance to demonstrate tolerance and empathy, James ultimately rejects his Need (a heart) and his arc reverts into one of villainy. To be specific, Ironwood is essentially a fascist dick, and that is not very sexy. (Speaking of dicks, the thought of Ironwood’s dick makes me laugh. I bet in the RWBY universe, people have made memes about that. I do not accept criticism because I am correct. Anyway,).

Dictators are charming, charismatic, and one of the pillars of their method is absorbing potential political opponents into their own administration to reduce the threat of rebellion, to appear openly tolerant to their supporters, and to further consolidate power. A good example of this would be Mean Girls, which runs on a comedic commentary of dictatorships as a political structure of power. I hate to compare James Ironwood to Regina George, but Regina’s posse includes Karen and Gretchen, two of the only girls who might take away from the authority she holds over the rest of their school, both in their wealth and attractiveness, and Cady’s interesting backstory and conventional attractiveness is the main reason Regina draws her into her own sphere - because she detects a potential threat. Much in the same way, while Ironwood likely has good intentions, his efforts to win over team RWBY and co. - including Qrow himself - is a logical way to consolidate resources. His willingness, at first, to cooperate with political opponents (ie Robyn) is because he’s not inherently evil, and he has nothing to lose. It’s when he is openly opposed and diplomatic gestures no longer hold the necessary weight that he snaps.

In one really interesting meta about Ironqrow’s archetypes (that I reread occasionally just because I really love it), @onewomancitadel posits that Ironwood is framed within the archetype of the Knight in Shining Armor, which should inform us of the moral consistency of his character. The meta was written around the beginning of volume 7, I think, and obviously we have a lot more character development and information to go off of now, but I think she makes a really interesting point about the nature of parallels and how that might help drive Ironwood as a character. I love her analysis of the visual of Ironwood stepping out of an airship wreckage, onto the street, the smoke billowing around him to reveal his cyborg prosthetics, and of the intentional framing. Once his uniform is stripped back, we see a man who is literally half-armor, which could be indicative of a lot of things. He’s emotionally guarded, he’s used as a human weapon, and he wants to be a line of defense. In her words, “The symbolism is really obviously put into perspective of his actions in trying to do the right thing: in the flesh (his true physical self) he is literally a knight in shining armour. From the ground up. Even if it's unseen or distorted by his uniform, his nature is still true.”

While Ironwood clearly has gone down a darker path in the most recent volume, I think this analysis holds true in a crucial way. “Ironwood is working with different information, and he’s doing exactly what he knows: stick to his knightly virtues, even disgraced.” Disgraced, indeed. Ironwood is holding onto his knightly values, and doing what he believes is right. If not right, he believes that it is necessary. The problem is that these values are manifested within Atlas’s sociopolitical-military culture in an inherently toxic way - his response is, at this point, neither rational nor empathetic, but it can be explained partially due to his cultural (flawed) understanding of justice, and because of the extenuating circumstances. The harsher the conditions become, the more difficult it is for anyone to project a facade that is not sincere at its core. If James is to uphold his Knightly virtues, he needs to be a protector, a leader, and a servant all at once while operating under limited intel with dwindling trust. All he has left are the few key players still in his grasp, and the control of the people he is responsible for.

To digress: generally, knights take an oath. It could be to a King, or Lord, or some noble, but Knights are supposed to operate on a code of honor, and chivalry, and to uphold these values throughout the land as an extension of whoever they have pledged themselves to. The story of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is a really good example of the way that, back in the day, chivalry and honor was supposed to place knights on a moral high ground compared to the common people.

In the middle of a celebration in Camelot, an obligatory tradition that has since lost real value but is rehearsed because Camelot fears that failure to uphold traditions that once had meaning is disrespectful, a Green Knight interrupts the celebrations and offers a strange challenge that boils down to a fight to the death. Gawain volunteers because accepting this challenge is what is expected of him, and Arthur would be humiliated if his knights, supposedly the best in the world, would not rise to the challenge. Gawain - and to a certain extent, the rest of Arthur’s knights - are fickle, in a sense, because their adherence to this code is performative, and it allows them to delude themselves into moral superiority and lie both to the commoners and amongst themselves; their identity as knights is based on a falsehood. Gawain is offered the first blow, and after beheading the Green newcomer, is horrified to see him become reanimated and immune to mortal blows. He invites Gawain to receive his own - likely fatal - blow, and gives him a time in which to meet, before promptly leaving.

Throughout the story, Gawain is tested in a variety of ways - in his final test, he fails, and allows his greed for self preservation and the fear of death to lead him to lie to his hosts and proceed to his meeting with the Green Knight under dishonest pretenses. While he is spared at the last second and becomes a better person (after it is revealed that Morgan le Fay orchestrated the ordeal to spook Queen Guinevere) - and by extent, a truer Knight, by the end of the story, the superficial and hypocritical nature of Arthur’s court is still in question, and still unanswered.

See, the entirety of Gawain’s trials was a test, not necessarily for him, but for Arthur and his court as a whole. Morgan wanted to prove the fickle nature of Arthur’s knights. The Knights of the Round Table were considered the best in the land, and to discredit one was to discredit all. What use is tradition if the meaning is empty, what use is chivalry if it is performed for reward instead of merit, and what use is loyalty if it is blind and unearned? Returning to Oz, the Tin Woodman, or Tin Man, grew to be made of tin because his axe became enchanted by the Wicked Witch of the East to sever his own body parts instead of the lumber he tried to cut down. A nearby tinsmith replaced each amputated limb with one of metal, until his entire body became tin and his meat body had been entirely discarded. Something to note is that Nick Chopper’s, (General Ironwood’s) wounds are technically self-inflicted. Each time he swung his axe, he made the decision to continue, knowing of the end result each time. In losing his bodily functions, the Tin Man believed that he had lost his humanity and ability to love.

The tragedy of his origin story draws a pointed correlation to Ironwood’s current dilemma; his unwillingness to stop, his self-imposed isolation, playing into the hands of the witch, and finally, the decision to let go of his ability to love remain consistent throughout both stories.

Watts even refers to Ironwood as a “Tin Solider”; a reference to the Tin (Woods)Man, no doubt, but could also evoke a soldier clanking around in metal armor. Ironwood is a Knight in Shining Armor, through and through. He wants to save the world, but at the terrible cost of civilian autonomy and possibly life. The problem is that he’s pledged himself to a discriminatory and hypocritical system, and his code is something that can easily be misconstrued by fear ( @disregardcanon ), much as Gawain’s own values. The Tin Man is, after all, still a man, and if we’ve learned anything from real fairytales, it is that men are fallible, whether or not they are made of metal.

Ironwood, Alone

he’s a lonely bitch

I know I f- up, I'm just a loser

Shouldn't be with ya, guess I'm a quitter

While you're out there drinkin', I'm just here thinkin'

'Bout where I should've been

I've been lonely, mm, ah, yeah

— Benee, Supalonely (2019)

You do get the sense that Ironwood is riddled with self-loathing conflicting with pride, with self-doubt clashing with competence, and that he is the kind of person who longs for things without verbalizing. Maybe his dad never paid enough attention to him as a kid. Maybe he suffered some terrible physical and emotional trauma, which might as well be assumed, given the extensive nature of his cybernetic limbs. Maybe (probably) he’d be more well-adjusted and would’ve made better decisions if the people around him trusted him and were a little more open. To be fair, though, he is the one at the wheel, and he is making the calls; no one else is to blame for his mistakes, and to pretend otherwise is to deny him accountability. I think we do enough of that in everyday life, in excusing powerful men of their responsibilities. To his credit, I do think he wants to help people. I think James also wants to project the personality of a leader who is stoic, controlled, and measured. He is charming when he wants to be, sympathetic when it suits him, and influential in just the right areas. He is not a sociopath, but he is a politician, and in a lot of ways, those are the same thing. We see in his brief flashes of temper, often prompted by Qrow, or most notably by Oscar, that this is not a calm, stable person. This is someone is on the verge of exploding, who is so fucking angry that he is not in control that it’s killing him, and so he is going to lash out and kill the things that are not within his grip. If the people beneath him will not reciprocate the heart that he offers, then he has no real use of it. James Ironwood does not begin this story as a bad person. This is a tragedy, in however many parts it takes.

I read, in one very smart and very put-together analysis that I cannot find and properly credit at the moment, that part of Ironwood’s (many) failures can be seen in Winter, and how, like Ozpin, he has appointed a woman as his talented, no-nonsense, second chain in command at his right hand. In this way, Winter is an intentional parallel to Glynda, who is, without question, a bad bitch. In theory, surrounding yourself with strong individuals is a demonstration of self restraint, in implementing your own checks and balances. James wants to project that he is powerful, yes, but he is reasonable.

I take this to mean that, to some degree, even if it’s unintentional or subconscious, Winter serves to boost Ironwood’s ego.

The issue with this is that within the inherently hierarchical structure of the military, Winter cannot question, undermine, or challenge Ironwood in a way that is particularly meaningful and their relationship is one of commander and subordinate before colleagues or equals (link to a fantastic post about Winter’s role as the Good, Conscientious Soldier by @fishyfod). Whereas Glynda is free to argue with, converse, and be as combative as she needs to be with Ozpin (although their power dynamic is arguably one of commander and subordinate albeit informally), Winter cannot temper Ironwood effectively, and through the illusion of equality, Ironwood is further isolated.

His head and arms and legs were jointed upon his body, but he stood perfectly motionless, as if he could not stir at all.

Dorothy looked at him in amazement, and so did the Scarecrow, while Toto barked sharply and made a snap at the tin legs, which hurt his teeth.

“Did you groan?” asked Dorothy.

“Yes,” answered the tin man, “I did. I’ve been groaning for more than a year, and no one has ever heard me before or come to help me.”

The Tin Man needs oil to lubricate his joints; without it, he cannot move, and he is rendered helpless and inanimate. When Dorothy and the group find him, he is entirely isolated with no one in sight, and he has been there for such a long time that he has begun to rust. Similarly, Ironwood needs valued voices of dissent to keep him in check. His colleagues were able to serve that purpose in the beginning, and out of them, Qrow is the best example of someone who doesn't take his shit, openly questions him, and looks down on the performative decorum of the military culture that Ironwood is surrounded by. What Ironwood needs is to be flexible and adaptable; his Semblance, Mettle (heh, metal, very nice pun, RoosterTeeth), is a double edged sword in that it gives him supernatural focus and willpower - enough, perhaps, to flay/chop off your own limbs - but it blindsides him, and is only further prolonging his pain.

There is a lot of sympathy to Ironwood’s character, as much as I’ve ragged on him for being an authoritarian, kind of a dick, and bad with kids. There are moments, such as the previously mentioned dinner party, where he shows his colors a bit, and when he assures the students at the Vytal Festival that there’s no shame in leaving before the battle begins, and in giving Yang a prosthetic arm before her father even has to ask. As far as Generals go, it seems that he’s seen soldiers come and go and understands, at least in his best moments, that not everyone is the same, and not everyone has power of unflinching determination to rely on. Ironwood performs his best when he tempers himself because he understands himself, and others. It’s when he fails to self-reflect that his hypocrisy shows through. Glynda points it out, too, as does Qrow; Ironwood advocates for trust but often fails to give it himself, going behind Ozpin’s back, being absolutely shit at field communication, and now the whole fascist, borderline-genocidal keruffle he’s gotten himself into.

I think that Ironwood reaching out to Qrow was his ethical last stand, his last chance and conscious effort to choose the right path. Qrow is unequivocally an equal, not like how Ozpin is the Big Boss, the authority that James becomes disillusioned with and tries to overthrow. He wants someone to trust, desperately so, and Qrow wants that too, but narrative subversion has hands. The Scarecrow and the Tin Man have no brain and heart respectively, and are in need of them. As it turns out, Qrow is actually a pragmatic guy with solid principles angled against authoritarianism, and Ironwood is a dick who would rather enforce martial law than to empathize and tame his military-shaped boner for one second.

I might conclude that someone like Qrow might be best for Ironwood, but that does not mean that someone like Ironwood would be the best for Qrow. Qrow has a brain after all, but Ironwood does not choose his heart when it matters, case in point. Even the intro of the current season features Salem and Ironwood on a chessboard; his white pieces are disappearing, dissolving into dust, as hers transform into Grimm. Ironwood is isolating himself by depleting himself of allies. As this post by @hadesisqueer points out, Ironwood isn’t even positioned as King, the supposed commander, but the Queen, the most versatile player on the board that is so far underused, since he hasn’t moved from his spot. Ironwood’s refusal to unify against Salem is his failure to strategically utilize the best resources that were available to him; soon, the pieces will be swallowed by the dark.

James is guilty of something that a lot of us are guilty of: doing a Bad Thing for what we have convinced ourselves is a Good Reason, when in reality, it is actually a lot of Very Bad Reasons. James Ironwood is a Knight archetype, through and through, and he is charging forward to do the right thing. He is afraid, he is lying to himself, and he will never surrender.

“All the same,” said the Scarecrow, “I shall ask for brains instead of a heart; for a fool would not know what to do with a heart if he had one.”

“I shall take the heart,” returned the Tin Woodman; “for brains do not make one happy, and happiness is the best thing in the world.”

Dorothy did not say anything, for she was puzzled to know which of her two friends was right, and she decided if she could only get back to Kansas and Aunt Em, it did not matter so much whether the Woodman had no brains and the Scarecrow no heart, or each got what he wanted.

The lesson of James Ironwood is a lesson of failure, and of the way that we succumb to fear, because that is Salem’s agenda, really, in the end: fear. It’s the negative emotions, fear being first and foremost, that draw in and empower the Grimm, and it’s fear and uncertainty that causes chaos. It is when Dorothy’s friends give into their fear that they are truly defeated. FDR’s assertion that “The only thing to fear is fear itself” holds true here; it’s not so much that these characters are afraid of losing their lives, their loved ones, and of the dark, but that they do not have the love or the resources to be brave for themselves or for others.

Qrow as a character is introduced as one who is already defeated, in a sense. Half of his team is gone, dead or estranged, he’s forced into the shadows of espionage to protect a world he knows is darker than it should be, and he’s fighting a losing battle with alcoholism. As charismatic as he’s written, he’s referred to as a “dusty old crow”, a hunter of renowned skill but past the prime of his life.

Dorothy’s three titular companions are defined by what they lack; in the same vein of the Disney I Want song (a main character’s main monologue song in which their wants and desires that motivate them throughout the rest of the film is laid out in song; ie Part of Your World, Reflections, How Far I’ll Go), the Lion, Tin Man, and the Scarecrow want bravery, a heart, and a brain respectively. RWBY relies on flipping the script of its characters based on what the audience might expect from the source material; Ruby is not just a helpless little girl - her introduction is a badass with a scythe. The Scarecrow is a chronic alchoholic. Cinderella is a victim of abuse, and is also a villain who wants to set the world aflame. Subversion, subversion, subversion.

There are obviously parallels between the characters in RWBY and in their own fairytales to keep them in character, and part of the fun is spotting those clues and occasionally connecting the dots to anticipate the direction of the narrative and certain connections between characters and the significance of their arcs. While I’m not aware of Dorothy Gale’s RWBY counterpart, if she has already been established or is yet to be introduced, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to assume that Ruby has adopted a Dorothy-eque persona and can act as a surrogate in a way. She begins as a sweet, naive child eager to join a world of color and excitement, who initially believes that she has “normal knees” and is thrust into a political scheme full of powerful and older players. She even has a small dog as a companion, Toto Zwei, who seems like an odd addition, since he’s usually sidelined and basically forgotten about except in a few spare moments, unless he’s there to draw further comparisons to Dorothy. She may not be from Kansas, but she is first helped by Glynda (the Good Witch), and later expects assistance from Ozpin, Qrow, and the later Ozian counterparts. I find it a peculiar detail that for Ruby to be Little Red Riding Hood alone, she is surrounded specifically by Dorothy’s companions. This, of course, only increases the importance of the relevance of the Oz series in particular and the characters that are borrowed.

In the case of Ozpin’s inner circle, Dorothy’s closest comrades (sans Toto) differ in crucial ways to their source material. (After finishing this essay, I found a much better, condensed explanation by @neopoliitan )

Disillusioned by the Ozpin, the Wizard (who has been projecting an illusion of a failsafe) and overwhelmed by the rise of the Wicked Witch of the West, Lionhart (the Lion), gives into his cowardice and ultimately forgoes the arc and redemption of his character from the source material; as such, he is by all definitions, a failure and a premonition, as Ironwood eventually follows. If RWBY is a dark take on classic fairytales, then it is only fitting that these characters are charred husks of their fairytale selves - these are people, and some people are selfish, scared, and cowardly, and they do not overcome these traits.

This is all opinion based, pure speculation. I have no idea what will happen in the next episode, and whatever goes down will be...shit will hit the fan. I’m under no delusions that Ironqrow is going to be canon in a healthy, tender, endgame sense. They’re both kind of losing their minds, and Ironwood is shitting absolute bricks. No, they’re going to try to kill each other, and I personally cannot wait for Qrow to cleave this man in two. (Not sexually, just, literally. Like, with a scythe.)

On that note, I think that the RWBY writers are good at callbacks, at drawing attention to their own connections, and if Ironwood and Qrow’s inevitable confrontation is scheduled, then it will include visual callbacks to Qrow saving James at Beacon, maybe shot for shot. Their visuals have only gotten better as time goes on, and I imagine Ironwood’s eyes widening as Qrow leaps through the air, scythe drawn, in recal of a moment so long ago when they weren’t on the same page, but they were at least on the same side. When Qrow brings the blade down, there will be no enemy behind him. Only Jimmy James. The difference between the two of them will be that Qrow isn’t fighting out of fear, but out of love, for what happened to Clover, and to what could happen to his girls.

Qrow’s reliance on alcohol, as well as his (mostly) feigned nonchalance is meant to fit with the motif that the Scarecrow has no brain, and, had he a mind to desire anything, would desire it most of all. His role is, also, notably, gathering intelligence for Ozpin (his character is also based on Munnin from Norse mythology). There is so much about Qrow that is an act and so much that is not, and I think that this act is born both from this motif and from his own cynicism, and the alcohol contributes to this act. However, he eventually gets sober after Ruby expresses legitimate frustration, and he understands that he’s putting their lives at risk. While one could say that he gave up drinking for the kids, I would argue that the kids - Ruby in particular - made him want to give up drinking for himself, to better himself.

While Lionhart and Ironwood betray the people depending on them, Qrow’s love for his nieces (and for the kids) allows him to deviate from this pattern. The answer to fear is perhaps not merely bravery - Qrow’s triumph is love.

Ironwood knows triumph in the context of a military state, but he’s backed himself into a corner. Soon he will find himself alone and friendless. Hopefully, his last stand will not be in vain.

#ironqrow #james ironwood #qrow branwen #rwby #rwby8 spoilers #rwby volume 8 #rwby meta #ok this is all just based on my opinion ok #like i ship ironqrow but ironwood is a dicktator if u know what i mean #he is probably gonna die but anyway #ironqrow meta #winter schnee #snowbird #also includes links and credit to other posts and metas #I just had to get this off of my chest ok

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

a whisper in the autumn wind

Heist!Mark x reader | Words: 1647 | Read on AO3

A chill racks your body as you and Mark make your way through the cool night. You mentally curse, wishing you were wearing more layers, though you know anything more wouldn't have fit under the tactical vest that sits snugly around your torso.

Your heist partner doesn't seem to notice you shiver, busy making sure the coast is clear before proceeding and gesturing for you to follow.

You do your best to keep pace with your friend's manoeuvres as he darts an odd pattern through the museum, triggering a bout of slight nausea that causes you to stop in your tracks.

‘Hey, keep up!’ Mark whisper-yells, turning around just in time to miss you steadying yourself after a wave of dizziness.

Somehow you make it the rest of the way without collapsing or being seen, but you're now all too aware of the fatigue in your muscles and the soreness in your throat. Meanwhile, your partner in crime carefully but swiftly wraps the stolen artefacts and slips them into his bag.

Your prize this time? A series of ancient tablets that you plan to sell to an illegal collector. You can't imagine what practical use someone would have for these, but at the end of the day, a job's a job and money is money.

It is only on your way out, that you feel the tell-tale itch in your nose that you have been dreading all evening.

As you scrunch up your face, Mark looks at you in confusion.

‘Buddy, you've been acting off all night, what's up with you? You good?’

You nod, desperately wanting to move on and for this to be over with.

The first couple of sneezes you manage to quell without too much fuss, but you can already feel a larger one threatening your nostrils.

While crouched behind a display, hiding from some guards, comes the point at which you can no longer hide that you're suppressing sneezes.

‘Alright, we are so close to being scot-free— hey what are you —? You're not sick are you? Really? Now?!’

Mark shakes his head back and forth with a string of frantically whispered "no"s as you fight your reflexes, but it's futile.

The sneeze that finally escapes you is resounding, and there is a beat of stunned silence and lack of movement from every party involved before you and Mark react first, bolting out the exit with the guards in pursuit.

It's a mad dash with a lot of ducking and diving, adrenaline probably the only thing keeping your body going, but by some miracle the two of you manage to lose them, eventually making it to where your getaway vehicle is parked some ways away so as to not be suspicious.

Piling into the passenger seat, exhaustion hits you all at once and you're thankful that Mark is the one driving. You pull off your gloves and hat and he does the same.

With no one following you, your partner drives cautiously in order to not draw any unwanted attention, careful to abide by traffic laws and always on the lookout for cops.

‘There's tissues and water in the glove box,’ he says after a few minutes, expression hard-lined and inscrutable, eyes focused on the road.

There's a thick tension in the car, uncharacteristically quiet save for the limited traffic outside and the rumble of the engine. You blow your nose, and it feels awkward in the silence, only broken on occasion by your sniffing. You take a sip of water, grateful for the coolness against your chapped lips and dry throat.

Eventually, you decide you don't want to endure the tension any longer, and you're too tired to let your little mishap turn into an argument; it was your fault, after all.

‘I'm sorry.’

Mark sighs. He glances at you, then back to the road.

‘It's okay. It's not your fault you're sick, it's just… Why didn't you tell me?’

‘Didn't want to ruin the heist.’ You laugh, but it's strained and weak, void of any real mirth or humour. ‘But I guess I kinda messed up on that anyway, huh?’

He lets out a small huff of laughter. ‘Yeah, no shit.’

You look down at your hands, folded in your lap.

‘Hey, it's not a big deal,’ he consoles. ‘We got what we came for and we didn't get caught. That's about as much as we can say for most of our heists.’

Your gaze stays downcast; he does make a good point, but it doesn't stop you from feeling a little guilty.

Mark must notice, because he reaches across to place a hand on your shoulder reassuringly, other hand still keeping the wheel steady.

You put your own hand over his, grateful for the comfort. You close your eyes and will away the growing dizziness and brain fog, the warmth from his now ungloved palm reassuring.

‘Look buddy, I need you to know I'm not mad or anything, just a bit upset that you didn't tell me in the first place… and annoyed at myself for not catching onto the fact sooner. I just thought… I thought you felt like you could be honest with me about this stuff.’

There's an undeniable hurt in his tone that makes you look up at him. He is still intently focused on the road ahead, despite there being rather few other people and cars out at this time of night, and you know it's out of choice — he takes his eyes off the streets in favour of looking your way for much longer than necessary when he wants to. Usually you'd chide him for doing so, but right now you can't help but wish he'd properly meet your eyes, just for a moment.

‘No – I can. I can tell you nearly everything, I – I'm sorry.’ You take a steadying breath, organising your thoughts. ‘You were just – really looking forward to this one, and there was no better day for it, everything lined up perfectly for us to go tonight. This stupid cold had to turn up and it started out as just a sore throat, no big deal, and well… I thought I could stick it out a little longer despite feeling like crap, but…’ You trail off, turning to look out the window as he approaches your shared base, returning his hand to the wheel.

He pulls up, setting the car to park, and finally turns his head to fully face you, placing a hand on your knee to get your attention.

He says your name, and it sounds like a term of endearment. For someone so bold and often brash, he can be surprisingly tender, a side of him that rarely anyone but you gets to see. ‘I rely on you, and you can rely on me… but part of that means we have to tell each other these things.’

‘Yeah, OK…’

‘Pinky promise?’

‘What are you, five?’

‘I'm serious,’ he says firmly, holding out his finger to emphasise the point.

Smiling, you hook your pinky around his own and shake on it, but not without rolling your eyes first.

‘Good,’ he says, pleased. ‘Now that that's settled, let's get inside, hm?’

While Mark retrieves the loot and stows it for the time being, you let yourself in, settling on the small couch in the living room. You take off your shoes and unzip your vest, easing it off your aching limbs.

The nausea and dizziness seems to have passed but you feel hot, yet a little shivery, and you're on the verge of nodding off when Mark appears in front of you, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. If it's even possible, you feel incrementally hotter with his touch as you return his concerned gaze through sleepy, half-lidded eyes.

‘I think you've got a fever, bud. C'mon, time for bed.’

You groan in protest, too drained to move, instead letting your head fall forward to plop against his chest, the soft texture of his plain black sweater a comforting feel against your fevered skin.

‘Oh boy, what am I gonna do with you…?’ he murmurs, bringing a hand up to pat your hair. He speaks softly, and with such affection that your heart would probably be doing somersaults if you weren't so tired and ill.

‘Alright, upsy-daisy.’ In one quick motion, he picks you up, carrying you bridal style to your room, and for once you don't object.

‘Hey, you better not make me sick too,’ he warns without an ounce of actual distaste, as you practically nuzzle your face into him.

He gently lays you in bed, tucking covers around you.

‘I'll be right back.’

You instantly miss his presence, tugging the blanket up a little around yourself.

He returns before long with a box of tissues, the bottle of water you'd been drinking and some painkillers, leaving them by your bedside. He places a wet face cloth beside you as well.

‘I know you're probably feeling cold but I don't want your temperature to get too high, so use this, and keep drinking water.’

You nod, about ready to drift to sleep.

‘Call me if you need anything, OK? I won't be far.’

‘Don't you want to sleep?’

‘I will in a little while, but you can still call me.’

‘Ok,’ you reply appreciatively. ‘Thanks for… looking after me.’

‘Someone's got to.’ He smiles at you gently, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

After a pause, he gets up to leave, pulling the door closed but leaving a gap the width of his face.

‘Rest up, buddy.’

He makes a quick kissing sound in your direction before shutting the door fully, his footsteps receding down the hallway.

Your face feels very warm.

Must be the fever, you think, placing the towel on your forehead with a yawn, before swiftly falling asleep.

#title from Violet by Wild Party #once again lolol I just really like that song #dude this so self-indulgent >-<😳 #I miss being babied and taken care of when sick and it SHOWS😖 #amee writes #ahwm #partners in crime #heist mark x reader #heist mark x y/n #heist!mark x y/n #heist!mark #heist mark #mark iplier #x reader #a heist with markiplier #markiplier egos #markiplier cu

[ungaroyals]

Hey O, S, V :)

Hiiiiiii

O. Outline - Do you outline your fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

If it's a longer fic I usually have a really detailed outline. But if it's just a little ficlet I kinda just let it go where the words take me.

S. Symbolism - Are there any recurring themes in your fics? Any symbolism?

I use a lot of golds/oranges/yellows and sunrises/sunsets in my fics. So I kinda pull from the show for that stuff.

V. Villain - Do you have a favorite villain? In which of your fics did you enjoy writing them the most?

I don't think I do honestly. Maybe Amee from sol, but I think she's really the only villain I've ever written.

ask me thingsss

[shandycandy278]

If you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 people in your notifications, anonymous or not! Let’s get to know the person behind the blog woot!

UHHH

1. I love ear cuffs

2. I’m redoing my sona ref

3. High key considering writing a crack fic for Brinky cause why not

@amee-racle @komaeda12 @inertiaambition @discombobulated-snails @lookyeekiti @quinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn @gigglebyteshaha are the last seven in my notifs

#ask sc

[jiminies-ahmee]

would y’all read this? i’m gonna start an au maybe

“give it back, wooyoung-ah.”

the boy frowns, not understanding her sudden demand, “give what back, hyejin-ah?”

“my heart, you fool.” she pauses for a moment, her fingers brushing against the cool metal of the locket around her neck, “i thought i could trust you with it, but you’ve caused me too much pain.”

in which every person is born with a heart-shaped locket around their neck. upon encountering their soulmate and opening their hearts to them, the locket is opened to capture the spirit of their soulmate’s heart. and so, they become each other’s.

#amee speaks #new fic??? #is it interesting or boring #does it even make sense?? #pls let me know :( #i want to write

[padawanlost]

Hi padawanlost! I’m writing this fic on anakin and his relationship to other characters and for some reason the list feels short I have Padme Ashoka obi-wan shmi luke leia (more so their potential relationship) the clones plus Rex and palpatine. Is there anyone else I should include in this list this is very important, both negative and positive impacts on anakins character?

I have made this post about Anakin’s friends during his Jedi Order, if you want more details. Here’s a list of ‘friends’ Anakin had over the years:

Tatooine:

Shmi Skywalker

Kitster Banai

Jira

Pala Kwi'teksa

Amee

Dorn

Wald

Coruscant:

Obi-wan Kenobi

Tru Veld

Darra Thel-Tanis,

The padawan pack

Jax Pavan

Ahsoka Tano

Padmé Amidala

Palpatine

Frenemy

Ferus Olin

#ask #anon #sw meta #meta: anakin #anakin skywalker #txt