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farfromstrange · 1 year

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Foreigner’s God | m.m

series masterlist

Matt Murdock x avenger!OFC

Chapter forty: Monster

Summary: She has a tendency to get herself in trouble for the greater good. This time though, she goes a little too far. Matt feels responsible to put a smile back on her face and restore the faith in herself.

Warnings: ANGST, attempted sexual assault (read at your own risk), Canon typical violence, vigilantism, knives, blood, use of mutant powers, heavy make-out session, SMUT (18+), nipple play, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, dry humping (?), degrading, dirty talk, praise kink, choking, multiple orgasms, basically sex doesn’t always go according to plan and sometimes stuff goes wrong, Matt Murdock’s ever present catholic guilt, crying, religious imagery and symbolism

a/n: Before you ask, yes this is inspired by a Frozen (The Musical) Song. Do I regret it? No. After being sick for an entire week, I have finally finished this goddamn chapter… it’s not my best work, so I apologize in advance. I reread it so many times, but it still feels rushed even though I incorporated every last plot point I wrote down. There’s just so much and now I’m insecure I screwed this up. But oh well, it won’t get any better than this. I tried. I can’t get anything better down. And I tried something… new? With this, so that’s kind of exciting, and I hope y’all like it anyway, even if it might not be what you expected and were so excited for.

Also, Melvin was always one of my favorite characters because he’s adorable and Eliza deserves this. (Also go Matt for being such an amazing boyfriend!!) posting the graphics for this chapter tomorrow or smth…

18+ MINORS DNI

The streets were dark and gloomy. She walked down the road to Matt’s apartment - her apartment with her head hung low and her keys clutched tightly in her fist. The other hand held her phone close to her ear as she listened to the voicemail announcement of the man she called.

“This is the third time I’ve called now. If you don’t call me back soon, I have to assume you’re dead somewhere,” said Eliza, taking a peek over her shoulder, “I read Tony’s letter, Happy. I can’t reach him and Pepper won’t answer her phone either. We need to talk. Call me back!”

She couldn’t reach Tony. His phone was off or disconnected, she wasn’t sure, so Happy was her last resort. Though no matter how many times she blew up his cell, he didn’t answer. His mailbox was full of missed messages now, but as long as it got him to call her back, she would gladly annoy him. The fear something might have happened nagged at her chest. He was known for not answering his texts or his calls right away, and she usually didn’t mind if he decided to take his privacy seriously, but she had seen what the world was capable of and how much pain it could cause to good people, and she wanted to prevent him from getting hurt again. Not receiving an answer to her pleas made her uneasy and she had to refrain from jumping into the closest cab and driving to the compound.

“Let me know you’re alive, at least,” she added before hanging up the phone for the third time and shoving it back into her pocket. “Asshole,” the curse slipped from her lips into the darkness. She had grown more vigilant over time and his lack of communication twisted her stomach into an uncomfortable knot.

She swore, after she almost died, she would not get herself into reckless trouble again. She swore she would be smarter.

Turns out, she wasn’t.

The second Eliza heard the scream of distress, her instincts sprung into motion.

“Don’t do it,” she whispered to herself.

The last time she acted on the scream of a distressed woman, she walked straight into Hydra. It was a deja vu of the bittersweet kind. She could call the cops and move on. Though by the time they arrived, whoever was attacking that woman would already have gotten what they wanted.

“Goddamn it!”

Matt would lose it.

She pressed against the wall right before the alley. She could make out two voices; a man and the cries of a woman begging for mercy.

“Fuck me,” she groaned. “I’m gonna do it.”

If she could prevent a woman from suffering the worst fate she possibly could, she had to do something. She had the strength to fight, and it was because of that that she chose to jump in.

The man turned to her when he heard the sound of her boots on the asphalt.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” she said.

The woman’s eyes widened at the sight of Eliza’s red eyes, and she cowered further against the wall. There was no light on her face, so recognizing her face was nearly impossible. She stepped out of the dark slowly and into the moonlight, hoping to instill some fear before this could get ugly. It didn’t work. They were too stupid to recognize her.

He chuckled darkly. “Today seems to be my lucky day,” he said. “Two for one. I’m sure we’d have so much fun together, but I’m afraid you’re gonna have to wait your turn.”

“Oh, shut up!”

“Uh, feisty. That’s even hotter.”

“How about I shove my foot so far up your ass, it comes back out of your mouth?”

“Damn, didn’t your parents teach you any manners?”

“My parents are dead,” she deadpanned. “And I don’t have manners.”

“Are you really going to make this harder for me?” The man sighed. “I was having such a great time. And she was, too.” He pointed to his crying victim. She shook her head, the rest of her paralyzed, and she held her hands in front of her body as some form of protection.

Eliza bared her teeth. “You disgust me,” she spat. “Leave her alone. She didn’t do anything. If you want to get your hands on someone, do it on me.”

“Did you just ask me to do you?”

“Why is it that men can’t grasp the concept of a simple no?”

“Look at that skirt,” he retorted. “You can’t say you’re not asking for it. And her?” He pointed at the young woman. “Hers is even shorter, I can already see her ass hanging out.”

“No,” her soft cry filled the alley. “I didn’t… please, I just want to go home.”

“You heard her,” said Eliza. “Let her go. If you want to ruin someone’s life, you can ruin mine. Take your shot! See where this gets you.”

“Aw, where’s the fun in that?”

He wasn’t just drunk, he was born cruel. The man reached down to grab the woman’s shirt and haul her up,

Her hands started to glow, as did her eyes, and she turned into the thing she had tried to push down the past couple of weeks. She let the darkness consume her, let the foreign energy take control, and rise to her true potential. She hadn’t discovered the truth just to keep the stone hidden. It was there and lying in wait for a reason. What she didn’t expect was for it to feel so strong - it felt strong to the point it bordered on overwhelming, and she was no longer in control; she was a stranger in her own body watching from the outside as her instincts took over. It was a raw force, something to be reckoned with, but no one could win against her. The more she felt the fire in her hands, the more her common sense began to panic.

“Don’t touch her,” her voice had dropped several octaves, “Or you’re gonna regret it.”

When the man looked at her this time, all color faded from his skin and he stopped, frozen in place and eyes widened at the sight of her glowing frame.

Eliza turned to the crying woman on the ground. “Did he touch you?”

She shook her head. “N-no. Not yet,” she said.

“Then go! Run as fast as you can. Save yourself.”

She didn’t move a muscle. Her body remained stiff and pressed against the brick wall.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” Eliza raised her voice. “Run, now!”

Her heels clicked against the floor as she ran out of the alley, crying and sobbing uncontrollably, and undoubtedly calling the police on her way.

The man’s instincts kicked in as soon as they were alone. He feared she might kill him if he didn't resort to more serious measures. Lifting his fists, he attempted to attack her.

Tilting her head, she sighed. “Don’t,” she said, but he did it anyway.

He went after her. She tried hard to control herself, using her fists instead of the monster inside of her, instead of being who she truly was, but as soon as he hit her, she exploded. Her hands came up and he flew back, hitting the stone wall at the other end of the alley.

Her hands continued glowing at her sides. He lifted his split skull. Tears glistened in his eyes.

“Please,” he begged.

“Feels weird, doesn’t it?” she said. “Not being in control. Telling someone no but the other person won’t listen. Almost humiliating, wouldn’t you say? Offensive, abusive, stripping you of your honor?”

“Please, I didn’t mean to- I thought she wanted this, I’m sorry!”

“You thought she wanted this? She said no! Does no mean nothing to you?”

“No, but-”

“What is it with you thinking you can take whatever the fuck you want without consequences?”

“It won’t happen again, I promise! Please…”

“Rest assured that I do this only because your behavior has been so inviting. You provoked me. I had no choice. Your behavior was misleading. You tempted me. I thought you wanted this with the way you kept flapping your hands around. That is not my fault.”

“No, God, don’t kill me, please! I didn’t mean to- I won’t do it again, I promise, just please… please, spare me!”

“Oh, I won’t kill you.” Her grin was empty, as was her voice. “Death is too kind for people like you,” she said. “You deserve to suffer. Not even hell would be kind enough for you, where you surely will be going. But no, not yet. Not before I haven’t made you see God over and over again while you’re screaming for my mercy the same way you’ve made that woman scream for mercy.”

He reached into his jeans. Eliza picked up on the blade in his hand too late. He threw it with a loud yelp, landing it in her upper arm. She hissed, reaching for the handle that stuck out of her skin. During that time, he used the moment of confusion to scramble to his feet and run. He had attacked her, threatened her, and made her bleed. She saw red. Literally and figuratively, she saw red.

She tore the blade from her skin. It squished, burn, and squirted some blood, but she didn’t care. She was angry, she was feral and she couldn’t help the way her mind reacted before she could grasp control over the ruthless animal inside of her.

Her powers pulled him back, soaring through the air, across the alley, and back into the wall.

She slapped a hand in front of her mouth. She only wanted to restrain him. In her head, keeping him in front of her would make it easier to keep him present until the police would come and arrest him. Instead, though, she had to watch in horror as the smoke in her hands carried him straight through the wall, tearing the stones apart, ripping a hole into the alley, and burying him underneath the bricks.

Her hands stopped glowing. She stared helplessly at the destruction she caused. She couldn’t hear, see or feel the man. Had she killed him? She wasn’t sure. His feet poked out of the smoke and his toes seemed to twitch, but she wasn’t sure, and the shock kept her tied to the ground. Her hands, now seemingly normal, were capable of such awful things. There was a reason she hadn’t used them for anything other than changing Matt’s perception. She should have kept it this way, and used her fists instead - what had she done?

The soft call of her name behind her broke through the alarm sounds in her head. “Eliza,” he said softly. A familiar voice.

Eliza pressed her back against the nearest wall, hands in front of her. “Don’t come near me,” she panted. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

She shied away when he tried to touch her again. He stopped halfway, his hand at level with her head, just lingering in the air. She stared at his fingers, his glove removed, and he offered his hand for her to take at her pace.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

She looked up through teary eyes, meeting his brown ones. The red mask lay next to him, his hair disheveled and sweaty as he smiled. He could tell what she had done, but he didn’t shy away. Still, the energy was hot in her veins and she was sure that if she felt threatened again, her hands would do the same to him. She wasn’t in control, the stone was. Her heart raced in her ear and she shivered, slouching against the bricks.

“Tell me, is he dead?” she asked.

He tilted his head in the man’s direction. “No,” he told her.

“Is he… dying?”

“No, he’s just got a few broken bones. Nothing serious or life-threatening. You didn’t kill him. He’s okay, but most importantly, you’re okay.”

His hand came closer. She winced, “No! Don’t- please, you’re just gonna get hurt. I can’t… I’m not in control, Matt. If you touch me, I might do the same thing to you. I can’t stop it.”

“Yes, you can.” Matt knelt before her, hand still extended and waiting for her to take the lifelines. “Look at me! Take my hand, let me prove to you that this is real. You’re not gonna hurt me, I just need you to calm down. I’m not mad,” he said, still smiling, “I’m here for you, okay? I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Her shaky hand slowly found its way into his. She took it, squeezed it, and held it tightly. His skin was warm and clammy, just like hers. His pulse beat strong and steady under the skin. The world didn’t end when she touched him. They were both still alive and it was real, no matter what her mind kept telling her.

“You feel me?” he asked.

She nodded, “Yes.”

“Good girl. There you go, see? Nothing happened. Told you, you’ve got this.”

He smiled, squeezing her hand again. Three times meant I love you. Another three translated to I have you. She wasn’t alone, not anymore, and there was no reason to be afraid anymore.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

Eliza turned to look at the broken-down wall and the man underneath, but then Matt was suddenly there and pulled her head to the side, forcing her eyes back on him. The destruction site was fully covered by his broad frame.

“Look at me,” he reminded her, “are you okay?”

She nodded, the cut on her arm beginning to thud with the fading adrenaline. “I think so.” Her teeth ground and she hissed, “Ah!” Perhaps she wasn’t entirely okay.

His nostrils flared. He sniffed. Smelling the blood, he crawled forward. He took off the other glove as well and pressed both of his hands against the cut on her arm. He felt the skin and the bone shift. The flesh squished where he pushed down as the wound secreted more blood right into his hands. The scent of the copper was something all too familiar to him, and it was scary. Every time he smelled her blood now, he got flashbacks that brought the feeling of her lifeless weight in his arms right back to the front of his consciousness. If he tried hard enough, he could still feel the remains of her blood on his suit, and if he took a good whiff, he could smell it. No bleach in the world could remove the ghastly picture from his mind, and whenever she was hurt, he was only reminded once again of how badly things could turn out and how he had almost lost her not so long ago because of one reckless decision.

A soft breeze ran through his hair, pushing the sweaty strands back and to the side. He blinked the tears away, banning the memories and forcing them back where they came from. “You need stitches,” he stated. His jaw clenched, she could see it. He applied more pressure, an attempt to stop the bleeding. “Probably not that many, but you’re still losing a lot of blood, so…”

“I’m okay,” she reassured him. Physically, she was, at least.

“I know, just… if we wait any longer, it might get worse. And we need to get out of here before the cops come and see you like this.”

“You mean what I did.”

He still sat right in her line of vision, but she could imagine the sight. She imagined what it looked like behind him and what the police might think. She would become a criminal again, and this time she would let them arrest her. She deserved it. The Department Of Damage Control would come as soon as they saw her, but perhaps it was for the best.

Matt shook his head, tilting her chin up with his finger. Some of the blood got on her chin and he wiped it away, silently apologizing. “I won’t let them take you,” he said, “No matter what happens, they won’t touch you.”

“If you could see what I did,” she prompted.

“I still wouldn’t care. This has nothing to do with my blindness or how you think my love for you might make it worse. No, you did nothing wrong. You saved someone’s life and defended yourself. No one has the right to prosecute you for being yourself. They don’t know you, not like I do, not like your friends do.”

He brushed her hair back, followed by a careful tilt of his head in the direction of the Main Street. Her wide, teary eyes were on him, regret and shame dancing in them as if it was a competition. He pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering on the cold skin for a little longer than he planned, feeling her heart jump and the clench of her fingers around the fabric of his suit. She was scared, not just ashamed. But she wasn’t scared of him or the police, she was scared of herself, which was a far worse fate to suffer because she knew she wasn’t the only one feeling that way. She had seen it twice that night, and she could bear it no more.

“C’mon,” said Matt. “Let’s get you home. I’ll stitch you up, get you some dinner, warm you up… Can you stand?”

One of his arms wrapped around her waist already.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice monotone, reserved and possibly even dead inside.

He sighed softly, helping her limp body back to her feet. As soon as they stood, she wrapped her arms around his waist and placed her head against his chest. He hugged her tight, ignoring how her blood got onto his suit again. She was afraid if she didn’t hug him and he didn’t hug her back, she might fall apart.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

Eliza shivered against him. “I’m not sure if I’m okay.”

“I know, but that’s okay too.”

“How long have you been here?” she asked, every word coming with a labored breath in tow.

“Not long, five minutes, maybe,” he answered. “Heard the screams, smelled you and had to see if you’re alright.”

“Why didn’t you… step in?”

“Plain and simple, I trust you.”

“Oh.”

Maybe he had underestimated the situation. He applied more pressure to the wound. She hissed in response. “C’mon.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Let’s get you home now.”

Walking through the roof access to his apartment, Eliza realized how tired she truly was. Her feet dragged over the wood of the stairs in a state of exhaustion. Her knees buckled. “Woah, easy,” Matt caught her just in time. He slipped an arm under her thighs and chose to carry her instead.

He set her down on the couch, silently searching for the first-aid kit and a towel. Feeling her skin shift again, he gnawed on the inside of his cheek.

While he stitched her up, she stared straight at the wall. Her head was empty, her body hulled in a fog. She couldn’t pinpoint what she was feeling. The shock had subsided. Instead, she felt nothing, not even guilt. The numbness hurt to the point she wanted nothing more than to feel the pain of the needle in her skin, but Matt was too good at what he did. Other than a few pinches, she felt nothing.

“He could have seriously hurt you,” he murmured as he threaded the needle through her parted skin. “This could have gone much worse. I can’t…” He swallowed. “I can’t lose you again.”

She didn’t answer.

“You need to be more careful. Short-sleeves aren’t fighting material.”

“I don’t have a suit anymore,” her answer came flat.

“I know.”

“I’m not an Avenger anymore.”

“I know that, too. But you can still help people,” he said, “That isn’t determined by-”

“I snapped,” Eliza blurted without trying to. The voice that had once been void of emotions started to display the true weight of the words on her soul.

Matt opened his mouth, but he wasn’t sure what to say.

“He attacked me and I just… snapped,” she said. “I hurt him because I wanted to. I hurt him because I was angry. I did this. If he had died, his blood would have been on my hands tonight.”

He shook his head, patting down the wound with a cotton swab. His eyes remained soft, though he swallowed harder than before. “I’m sure you knew what you were doing,” he said.

“I didn’t. I wasn’t in control. Or, I was. I was in control of my anger and I just let it happen because I felt like… I felt so… I’m scared, Matt.” She doubted ‘scared’ cut it close, but it was the word that made the most sense. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why I can’t control my powers when it comes down to it, when I know I should but I don’t. I thought I could control the anger, I thought I could control the extent of what I’m capable of, but when I feel threatened or angry and am convinced that the other person deserves punishment, I… I need to balance it out. God, what is wrong with me? I’m not a fucking judge or executioner! I’m a person.”

“Hey, no. Nothing’s wrong with you. You didn’t kill him, you only knocked him down pretty good. You did nothing worse than I would have. This wasn’t… this wasn’t a vile or evil act, baby. Far from it. You saved a helpless woman from suffering a terrible fate tonight.”

Her lip quivered and a tear slipped down her cheek. The dam opened a crack, at first, but it soon broke in two when he spoke again.

“Hey,” Matt cooed, finishing the last stitch to take her head into his hands and hug her tightly to his chest. “Don’t cry. Nothing happened.”

“No, but I’m a monster!”

“Stop it. You’re not a monster.” He used his free hand to run it through her hair. “You didn’t hurt him any more than he deserved. Deep down, you knew that he would never get what he deserved if he went through the system, so you allowed yourself to let go a little more. You let the anger take over because he deserved to be punished, but you didn’t kill him. You wouldn’t cross that line, not again. Deep down, you know what you’re doing. I know you do. You’re far from being a monster, sweetheart. Monsters act only to be vile. They hurt good people. The man you fought was a monster. You're not.”

She shook her head, trying to escape his grasp. Her attempts were to no avail. He held her tightly until she stopped struggling and fell into his arms completely.

“You saved that woman’s life. You saved her from getting raped by a man that would have done anything to get away with it, including stabbing her to death. You are a hero. You saw someone who needed help and you decided to jump in. That’s selfless, you understand? It’s not evil, it’s a good thing. It’s something only someone with a good heart can do.”

“I wasn’t in control,” she whimpered. “Not really. My anger was, I… I can’t…”

“I know, and that’s okay. We’ll find a way. I don’t know much about your powers, but we’ll find a way to make this easier for you. We’ll find a way to help you gain some sense of control. You have friends who can help you, you have me, and we have Fogwells to train. I just… you’re not a monster. You’re still a fighter, a hero, and a good person.” He tilted her head up, brushing her wet cheeks. “Don’t think that way about yourself. You’re so good, baby. So good.”

“No…” she sobbed again. “No, you’re wrong.”

“I’m not wrong,” he said. “Trust me, I love you so much, and nothing you do could change that. Even in the eyes of God, you are good because you chose to save someone’s life while putting your own in danger. It’s what saviors do. You are a savior.”

“I didn’t mean to do what I did. I didn’t mean to hurt him like that. I didn’t care what happened to him, which is the scary part, not my powers themselves. I don’t know what’s happening to me, Matt, and it’s scary. I thought I had it all under control,” said Eliza, “but I don’t, and I don’t understand why because it worked when I made you see. And it worked beyond that. I haven’t exploded ever since… I haven’t exploded like that ever since I reconciled with my father before everything went to shit. I just… I’m so tired and my arm hurts and it scares me that I don’t even feel fucking guilty for any of this. I shouldn’t act out. It’s dangerous. My powers are dangerous, especially in the hands of someone who doesn’t know what she’s dealing with. I know everything and nothing at all. I… I…” she hiccuped and the breath got knocked out of her lungs. The oxygen started to burn away the skin in her chest and she wheezed again, her body riddled with aftershocks.

Matt shook his head, pressed a gauze to the wound and she took it while he searched for a bandage in the kit. “One step at a time,” he said. “You’re not a monster, Eliza, and you’re not dangerous. In the hands of anyone else, your powers would be catastrophic, but you? You’re a good person, and I know you can control it. The stone is in your blood, your body knows what to do. You’re just too much in your head, you have been ever since you came back, and that’s okay. You need to get used to this again, I know you can because I know you, baby, and no one’s as strong and capable as you are.”

She sniffled. “How do you know?”

He wrapped the bandage around her bicep and secured it with tape. “I have a feeling. We’ll find a way to learn more about your powers somehow,” he said, “but not now. Not today. Today was a lot and you need a break.”

“I need to be in control of my mind to be in control of what’s inside of me, but I don’t… the anger is so strong, Matthew, and it makes everything so much more powerful.” Her fingers tingled. “Even now, I feel lightheaded.” The color traveled from her palms to her fingertips. She sighed, knowing her eyes had changed color again.

Matt felt the air shift and the familiar jolt of electricity his senses sent rolling through his body whenever she used her powers around him traveled from his neck down his spine.

He reached for her hand, but she shied away. “Don’t,” she said, her voice tired instead of a warning, and she got up. Her feet pointed toward the bedroom door.

Her mind reeled with unspoken thoughts that sounded less like English words and more like gibberish. Her heart was racing in time with her breathing and the more she thought about it, the harder it got to keep her hands where they were. She wanted to run to him, but she caught sight of her reflection in the milky glass and she knew that if she touched him, she would hurt him. At least her head kept telling her so, and so she chose to be cautious. She chose to keep him safe, the one promise she would always keep, no matter how far gone down the rabbit hole she was. There was no one, not even Happy or her therapist that could understand what possessed her, the power she held in her hands, and the cravings it caused within her. She didn’t crave drugs, she craved the world, she craved things she couldn’t quite understand, and it brought her back to all those weeks ago when she had been just as clueless. The state of helplessness was exhausting.

He made a pained sound in the back of his throat when she ushered away and back into her cocoon.

“I thought we were over this,” he said.

Eliza crossed her arms. “I don’t want to hurt you. Why don’t you get that?” she said.

“You won’t hurt me, sweetheart.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You’re not as out of control as you think you are.”

“You don’t know that!” The billboard outside of the apartment complex flickered. It reflected red instead of the purple it had been before. She stared at her hand and then at the plain red picture that was projected onto the big screen. The change in static made Matt cringe, the sound sharp and piercing through his eardrum.

She sighed. Part of her did it on purpose, the other part wasn’t sure what came over her. She tried to fight the urge to push him away, but it was getting harder by the minute.

He got up. “Eliza…” he reached for her, but she wasn’t where he expected her to be.

“I just need to be alone right now,” she whispered. tears clouded both her vision and her voice. “Don’t come too close to me or I might hurt you, too.”

She burst through the bedroom door and closed it behind her, just in time before the tears burst out of her and she landed sobbing on the mattress. He could hear everything and it shattered his heart to pieces. He pressed his palm against the glass, then his forehead, and he listened as she ran out of breath again and again as she cried into their shared pillow.

“Please, sweetheart,” he said. “Don’t shut me out again. Don’t close the door.”

He could have easily opened the door, but she didn’t want him to. She locked herself away for a reason, and he had to grant her the privacy she required. At least for an acceptable amount of time, but not too long as if to agree with her that it was okay to push him away. He didn’t want her to, and she promised she wouldn’t, not again. All he could do at this point was hope that his words would do anything.

She shuddered and disappeared underneath the covers, hiding from herself like a scared little girl.

When she didn’t answer, he sighed. “Alright, I’m just gonna stay here,” he said and slid down the stone wall next to the bedroom door. “You let me know when you’re ready to talk.”

“Go away, Matt,” he heard her cry from the other side.

Matt chuckled. “Not a chance, baby. I’m not leaving you. You know why?”

She gave a disapproving grunt.

“You don’t scare me. You’re just scared, and that’s okay. I’m scared too, all the damn time, but we can fix this. I know we can. You just have to let me in. Tell me what’s bothering you other than this stupid fight so I can try to understand why you’re so sad.”

He was met with a heavy silence. Her breathing had slowed, but the occasional sob still wrecked her body and she shivered heavily every time it did.

“I read the letter,” Eliza admitted eventually. “Tony’s letter, I mean.”

“And?” he asked.

“Tony’s an asshole.” She chuckled, a tear slipping down her cheek, and she added, “But I was the bigger asshole.”

“Do you want to forgive him?”

“I know I want to make things right, but I don’t know how. I don’t know a lot of things,” she said.

“You don’t have to know everything. That’s not how life works.”

“How did I end up like this then?”

“Like what?”

“Broken and screwed up.”

“We’re all a little screwed up,” he said.

“I’m a lot screwed up,” she said.

“Yeah, me too.”

Another tear slid down her cheek. “The storm inside of me is real. Are you sure I’m not just a monster locked in a cage of her own making?”

“Yeah,” his palm landed on the milky glass again, “I’m sure. I know you, I know what the woman I love is capable of, and evil is not something I would use to describe you. So you’re not a monster, you’re a hero, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else says because I see you better than anyone else can, Eliza. You keep telling me I’m good… well, you’re better. So much better. You’re good at heart and that cancels out everything else.”

“But how can you be so sure?”

“Let’s just say, there has to be a reason you were born with such great power. God… no, the universe chose you to survive the exposure for a reason. I’m sure of that. You just need to learn how to live with yourself before you can control this storm you’re talking about. That’s a big burden to carry, and you’ve just started to figure it all out, so just grant yourself some more time.”

The mattress shifted. Her bare feet patted against the floor and stopped before the door. Instead of opening it though, she slid down the glass and pressed her back against his, only a small barrier between them now. She pressed her palm where his lay, sighing at the way his shadow visibly tensed.

Eliza ground her teeth. “Tony gave me the key to my father’s apartment. The one I, uh, found after I wrote you guys that letter,” she told him. “He said there are things my father wanted me to find. In case of his death, he had this fail-safe that sent Tony all that was necessary, and he did, so he forwarded it to me. I just… he’s trying to make up for it, but I can’t even think about that. I’m angrier at my father right now for twisting Tony’s views, but I’m also… I want to know what he left me. I need to know. But I’m so angry. I’m so fucking angry, Matt. All I could think about tonight… fuck! I was weak tonight.”

“I should have never let you leave alone,” he said.

“Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. Sister Maggie caught me before I could make a serious mistake.”

“Yeah, but it was my job to be there for you and I wasn’t.” He wished he could touch her. “I will be forever grateful to Sister Maggie, but that doesn’t change the fact that I left you alone.”

“It was my choice, Matt. Stop putting all the blame on yourself. I can’t… I can’t do this right now. So please, just… don’t.”

She leaned her head back against the glass and he did the same, whispering the softest apology into the dark of the night.

Goosebumps erupted on her skin. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want to be herself anymore. “Matt,” she murmured.

He tilted his head in the direction of the door. “Yes, love?”

“Can you stay with me?”

He sighed. “Of course, I can.”

“I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts.”

Because her thoughts were far more terrifying than her powers ever could be.

“You don’t have to be,” he said.

She sighed, reaching out a hand to rest on the glass again, turning so she could lean against the door completely, and she listened to his breathing and heartbeat faintly on the other side. It was the most she could do. He was so close yet so far away. She wished she could ignore the looming voice in her head and just be normal, but she was afraid of what might happen if she ignored her most primal nature and told the stone to shut up. The last thing she wanted was for Matt to suffer because of her.

“Matt, do you think,” she began again, “that everyone’s in danger as long as I’m alive?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “God, no,” he said.

“You think I was born to be a monster?”

“No.” He couldn’t even put pressure behind his words. He was so in pain from hearing her ask these questions, not sure what to do, what to say or think. He just sat there, hoping she took his words to heart.

Eliza traced the condensation of her breath on the glass. “Then why did I end up with this… this curse?” she said. “Because it doesn’t seem fair that I get a frozen and broken heart while my mother died and everyone else… Everyone else is normal.”

He sighed, taking the same position she had, his temple pressed against the door and his hand to the glass. “You said it yourself that the infinity stones were creations of the universe, right?”

“Yes.”

“So maybe you survived because one day, something big might come for us, something a man in an iron suit or a Hulk can’t fight and only Someone as powerful as one of these stones can fight that threat. Maybe you are the universe’s fail safe. You’re a protector, not a destroyer. You survived for a reason, and that reason may come one day. When it does, you’ll know. Until then, you have to believe me that God and the universe have their reasons to be giving only certain people special abilities. Our accidents both had deeper meanings, I think,” he said, “and we’re both on the right path to figuring that out, but especially you, my love. I’m convinced that you will do big things one day, and the world will thank you.”

She was quiet. She didn’t even breathe for a moment. He listened in. A soft sob broke from her chest, then another salty tear rolled down her cheek. She exhaled, clenching her fist and holding tighter onto the glass door. “Okay,” she said, her voice the softest tune of a pretend-whisper. “Thank you.”

He smiled. Her breathing slowed, as did her heartbeat and her sobs seemed to subside with every passing second that she listened to him on the other side.

“You think you can sleep now?” he asked. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do much more tonight.

“I think so, yeah. But not on the bed, I want to stay on the floor. It’s harder here. The mattress feels too soft.”

“That’s okay, I just want you to rest. Can you do that for yourself?”

Eliza nodded. “And Matthew?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you,” she said.

Matt chuckled, tracing his fingers over where he could feel her warmth through the bedroom door. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

Even in her current state, she would never go to sleep without telling him how she felt, and her love for him was ever-present and never-ending.

She stirred back to life when she felt a hand on her thigh, rubbing gentle circles over the bare skin to coax her out of unconsciousness. Eliza scrunched her nose, shifting on the bed. Once again, he had carried her in the middle of the night. Her back was more than grateful.

As she blinked the sleep out of her eyes and against the sun streaming in through the window, she realized that she was no longer wearing her skirt but Matt’s Columbia shirt, freshly washed and dried, and a pair of shorts he got from her collection.

Her hands reached above her head as she stretched her aching muscles. The cut on her arm screamed. With a hiss, she brought the limbs back down, pressing a hand to the bandage.

Matt sat at her feet where they were pulled up to her chest, a blanket draped over her. He took such good care of her, always, it made her so incredibly thankful for having him. No one else would have done it for her. He got her changed, put a blanket over her, let her sleep in until he finished with coffee and breakfast, and only then did he wake her with gentle touches.

He smiled, though his head was tilted in her direction and his nostrils wider than usual, suggesting he was taking a whiff of whatever was in the air. Copper, blood.

“You opened the cut on your arm,” he stated.

She looked down at her now blood-soaked fingers from where the bandage had turned red. The pain turned thudding and burning. She hissed, “Fuck!”

“I was gonna say good morning, but that didn’t age so well.” He chuckled softly, his voice still gruff from waking up and the lack of caffeine in his system. He put the coffee mug with her favorite beverage down and reached for the first-aid kit that was still laid next to the table. “Sit up for me,” he said. “Let me check your stitches.”

He removed the bloody bandage, placing his palm flat next to the cut. The skin shifted, but it was only in one place. She had healed enough to be removing the stitches, so that was what he did. She winced when he pulled the first one out. He gave an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, I wish you could have had time to properly wake up, but the damage is pretty extensive.”

“Do I need new stitches?” she asked, her voice even groggier than his.

He shook his head. “Butterfly bandage will suffice if you don’t make any fast movements and tear the cut open again. You gotta be more careful when you’re hurt.”

“Yeah, I tend to forget I’m not a vampire who doesn’t bleed.”

Matt dabbed the wound down with some disinfectant, placing the butterfly bandage on top, then returned with a cold towel for her to press against it to help with the swelling he could feel around the bone.

“That’s ‘cause vampires are dead,” he said with a cheeky grin, “Can’t bleed when your heart isn’t beating.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“I’m just saying. You’re not dead, and I prefer it that way. Now,” he replaced the bloody tissues in his hand with the coffee mug and handed it to her, “I’ve made you some coffee. Take it as a peace offering for making you pop your stitches.”

She chuckled. “Thank you, very considerate.”

“Breakfast’s on the table. When you’re ready to get up, we can eat.”

Her forehead dropped forward against his. He caught her by the back of her neck, holding her close to him. They breathed into each other’s mouths, connecting on a much deeper level than was visible on the outside.

“I’m sorry about last night,” said Eliza.

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I- I have no idea what came over me, but I promised not to push you away again and last night, I did, so I’m sorry about that.”

“You needed privacy,” he said, “I’m the last person who’d deny you some time for yourself.”

“It wasn’t just privacy, Matt, I was scared and I still am and I… God, I don’t even know anymore.”

He captured her lips with his, telling her, “Don’t talk, it’s okay,” before he deepened the kiss and knocked all air out of her lungs.

Happily, she sighed against his lips, leaning further into him. Their kisses soon grew heated and Eliza swung her leg over his lap. One of his arms wrapped around her hips to get close to him faster. She rolled her hips, chest against chest, and her hand began to stroke over the white shirt that adorned his torso, feeling the muscles underneath his shoulders and his pecks.

He broke the kiss to ask, “What do you want?” Breathless and his cock already straining against his sweatpants.

Her chuckle sounded dark in his mouth. “What does it look like?” she said. Their lips clashed again, as did their teeth and tongues. They fought for dominance, but Matt was bound to win the battle.

“I don’t know.”

She snorted, grinding her hips down on him again, his cock brushing against her hot core that hid beneath layers of fabric. He growled.

“Then what does it feel like?”

He bit down on her bottom lip, pulling it toward him as she leaned back slightly to look into his hazel eyes. She had no choice but to lean down and kiss him again, hard and needy, returning to the sloppy movements of her hips against his. His fingers were sure to leave bruises on her hip from how hard he held onto her, but she didn’t mind. If anything, she wanted him to hold her even tighter and leave as many reminders of him as humanly possible. She would gladly carry him around with her anywhere she went, not just his cum but the imprints of his hands and mouth as well. The beard burn from the night before was still heavy on her thighs, and it would stay there, she decided, even long after she healed because he would do it again. She needed that part of him more than she needed to breathe. With him, her body was alive either way, and her mind finally found peace.

When his kisses traveled to her neck, Matt finally moved from grabbing her hips to the hem of her shirt. “Off,” he instructed.

She lifted her arms and allowed him to pull them over her head. The Columbia shirt hit the floor, the cold air hitting her nipples. She gasped which quickly turned into a moan at the stimulation. He wrapped his lips around one of them, sucking at her breast as if his life depended on it, and his hand went to squeeze the other one, massaging and pulling at the neglected nipple every once in a while. His tongue managed to find spots on her breast that drove her crazy. Her panties were soaked at this point and she kept rutting against his clothed cock like a maniac, the kisses, and licks to her nipples almost too much. She clenched around nothing. He pinched the sensitive nub between his fingers and she cried out, holding onto his hair.

He knew exactly where to use his mouth for the lord’s work. She was the queen laid upon the altar and he worshipped at her feet, doing what his religion told him to do with divine beings - worship them. There was only one God every time they laid together, and it wasn’t the catholic one he prayed to, the one far up above; no, she was his Goddess in moments like these and he did what any catholic good boy would do. He gave her the attention she deserved and did anything she wanted. He couldn’t help himself. Making her feel good seemed like his version of forgiveness, and he would indulge in that kind of penance for as long as he still could.

The scent of her arousal was thick in the air. He chuckled at the uptick of her breath, the small moans, and her hands clawing at his shoulder.

“Fucking- God, Matthew,” she panted into his ear this time and he shivered, cock twitching and hitting her core again with every grind of her pelvis.

It felt so good, she stared into the abyss and the sirens sang for her to jump. She was high off the feelings; his lips around her nipple, his hand squeezing her breast, and the almost non-existent friction on her cunt other than a soft breeze of air - her legs shook as she held onto what she couldn’t quite believe was a real orgasm.

“Sweetie,” he purred against her skin, wet from his saliva.

She gasped when he squeezed the other nipple again, turning it at an interesting angle that made her whimper once again. “Matthew,” she said.

“Don’t think too much about it, just feel good. Do it for me, I’ve got you.”

With a particularly skilled twist of his tongue and with that, her nipple, she dug her nails into his shirt and cried out his name in the most delicious, orgasmic tone. He held her by the waist as she jumped off the precipice, letting him give her another push before her muscles locked up and she was a moaning mess in his arms. Riding out her orgasm against nothing but his lips pressing gentle kisses to the skin around her nipples now, paying close attention to giving her breasts some much-needed love, she slowly stepped out of the fog.

“Oh,” Eliza sighed.

Matt grinned cheekily, smacking the tit he didn’t suck on before he straightened back up to kiss her. “You didn’t know that was possible, huh?” he said.

She shook her head.

He forced the shorts down her legs. The panties she wore ripped with one tug from his side. She gasped again when his hand collided with her bare ass cheeks. She was completely naked now while he was still dressed, his hair disheveled, lips swollen, and his smirk was never the less enticing.

He pressed his lips to her ear, whispering sweetly, “Can I make you feel good one more time?”

“Yes,” she answered.

He slipped his middle finger into her hole. She shivered, her walls wet enough to welcome him with open arms. He thrust the digit in once and buried it to the hilt inside of her.

“That’s my girl. Always so wet and needy. Was that enough for you? You think you can take my cock now or do you wanna cum on my fingers?”

Her hips bucked, trying to get his finger to move against the spot she could feel him resting against.

She whimpered into his ear, “Want you.”

“You have me. Tell me, what exactly do you want?”

“Your- fuck!” He curled his finger.

Matt chuckled into her ear. “What was that?” he said.

“Not your fingers,” she managed to choke out, though she kept grinding on his hand.

“Alright then.” His finger slipped out of her cunt and shoved it into her mouth. She tasted her arousal off his skin, gagging when he pushed down on her tongue to get deeper down her throat. “Don’t choke,” he mused, “Suck.”

She breathed through her nose. His skin began to taste bitter, but she didn’t care. She sucked on the digit until tears were streaming down her throat, and he decided he had teased her enough. He pulled out and her eyes rolled back, lips glistening with saliva and what was left of her juices.

“Beautiful,” Matt whispered before forcing her down by the hair and kissing her.

Their tongues met, teeth digging into bottom lips. There was no telling where one began and the other ended. They became a tangled mess of lips, spit, and limbs. Her hips ground against his clothed rection and he met her feverish movements, matching the desperation in her touch and the way her body ached for him.

“Matt, please…” Eliza could only whine when he nibbled at her jaw.

“What do you need?”

“I need you to fuck me,” she said.

“Oh, yeah?”

He pulled his pants down enough to release his aching cock. She licked her lips. His leaking tip rested against his stomach and she ground down on him, sliding along his shaft to coat him in her wetness. He stilled her movements with his hand on her hip. “Let me do the work,” he told her.

Matt rolled her onto her back, connecting their lips in a heated kiss. He lined himself up with her entrance, hooking her leg around his waist, and thrust forward. He buried himself to the hilt inside of her, not a single inch left. She gasped, back arching into him, and his lips slipped from her mouth to her neck.

He stilled, waiting for her approval, and she squeezed his biceps in reassurance. He took that as a sign to start moving.

Her hands wandered with shallow gasps. Her nails raked down his clothed back and under his shirt, pulling it up and off by the hem. The white shirt hit the floor and she dove in without wasting a second to taste his skin everywhere she could.

He rocked his hips back and forth in a steady rhythm, meeting all the spots he knew drove her crazy in the best way to pull soft whines and moans from her lips that were attached to his shoulders and neck, licking a long stripe over his pulse point.

She pulled at the strands of his hair, forcing him down to meet her desperate tongue. His fingers left crescent moon indentations in the Skin of her thigh as he pulled it further up, angling his thrusts so deep, she cried out and followed the wave of stars into the oblivion of what she suspected to be heaven. She had been there a couple of times before, always in his arms, and every time she found herself so blissed out, she missed nothing but his touch.

There was no rush as he kept pounding into her at a gentle, reserved pace. He made love to her in a way Matt never thought he was capable of. Their lips stayed attached and their hands began to wander over the other’s body, touching every inch they would find with their fingers. He memorized her skin, every stretch mark, scar, and crevice and she did the same, tracing her fingers over his scars and the faint hairs on his chest that had grown significantly but not yet long enough for her liking.

His kisses traveled from her mouth to her face, licking and biting over her skin. She tasted sweet as always, slightly salty with sweat and tears, and the scent of his sheets lingered on her, transforming into a distinctive scent that he stored away in his brain. He kissed her forehead, cradling her head into the crook of his neck as he picked up his thrusts, the tension in his stomach too much to bear, and with how hard her cunt was squeezing around the sensitive veins of his cock as he kept hitting her most pleasurable spot, he could tell she was just as close.

She moaned into his shoulder, biting down on the skin, and he reached between their bodies to catch her clit. He started with slow circles, wanting to savor this as long as possible. Slow and steady wins the race, and the movement of his fingers felt far more intense like this, with him being so gentle and attentive as he took care of her body as if she were holy. He worshipped her, put her pleasure first, and made sure to drag every last sound out of her mouth before he even thought about himself.

Eliza licked her lips, forcing his concentrated face in height with her own. His eyes were hooded and slightly closed, but she didn’t care. She kissed him, nibbling at his bottom lip, and traced the sweaty brown hair out of his beautiful face. His thrusts faltered and he drove in at a different angle, massaging her g-spot and her inner walls perfectly with the tip of his cock, and she felt him twitch again. He was holding off, trying not to be the first to cum, but then she started meeting his thrusts and moaning directly into his ear and he had to grab the headboard for support. His self-control started lacking.

“Matthew,” she breathed his name, lips moving from his to his ear.

He grabbed her face forcefully and kissed her instead. The tone of her voice made the tingling in his stomach and the intense pressure in his balls even worse. She was so warm and tight, wet and clenching around him like a vice that held him as a form of protection from the world, and the more he thrust, the faster his orgasm seemed to approach. He had it right there. He held his long-awaited release and it was starting to grow painful. She needed more and he had to give it to her. If he came now, he wouldn’t forgive himself. But damn her, he thought, because they had sex so many times, she knew his signs and his body and he couldn’t keep the truth from her. He couldn’t deny that his strength wasn’t as great as before and that he would disappoint her; she knew.

She locked her legs around his hips, clawed her nails into his ass, and clenched around him. She was telling him silently that it was okay. Her body invited him to give her his all, but he tried not to let the selfish voice in his head tell him to give in.

She moaned his name again, shivering under his touch and the soft caress of his lips on hers. His finger still drummed against her clit, but he had lost momentum and pressure.

Eliza wrapped her hand around his throat, squeezing slightly and forcing him deeper. “It’s okay,” she said.

“No,” Matt shook his head.

“Yes.” Her heel dug into his lower back, giving him no space to escape. “Let go,” her voice reverberated in his ear. “Now.”

He tried not to, but she left him no choice. He couldn’t have pulled out even if he wanted to. His hips stuttered and he buried his head in the crook of her neck to muffle the whine that slipped his lips when he came. His cum spurted out of him and painted her walls with his seed. The fog overtook him. The endorphins and pure pleasure of his orgasm rendered him useless. He held tightly onto her, needing his lifeline to keep him grounded or he would have fallen. It was intense. It was amazing but it was intense, and his legs gave out.

He clawed at the sheets. The orgasmic haze cleared, hyper-aware of his cum that started to trickle out of her and down his shaft, and the hot sensation made him hiss. Even the silk of the sheets seemed to burn into his skin.

“I’m sorry,” he panted and he pulled out, flopping down on the mattress next to her and turning on her side.

The shame was a cruel monster inside his head, and it paired with the guilt that tainted his bloodstream. His muscles still twitched and he started to burn even brighter, his vision turning into an inferno and the sweat on his skin turning into acid. He wasn’t sure where it came from, but suddenly, his throat tensed up, he couldn’t swallow, and then the tears started to make their descent down his cheeks. The wave crashed in without warning, the shame wrapping a noose around his neck and the guilt scraping the skin of his bones. He felt every last cut of the knife, and the contractions of his soul as he kept whispering the same apology over and over again, “I’m so sorry.”

He was sure he cursed God. He was sure he prayed and thanked him at the same time that he couldn’t see, but he was sure he could smell and hear how disappointed she was. She was hot, her skin sticky and her heart beat fast and loud. She hated him, he was sure of that. He put himself first without asking. He went over her head and put her pleasure second, and then he turned away and cried like a coward. His head hated him and so he started to loathe himself. He promised to be good - he hadn’t been good. He wasn’t good.

“I’m so sorry, forgive me,” he cried, his arms curled under his head and the rest of his body curled into a tight ball. He was shivering, but not from the orgasm.

The silky fabric of the blanket found its way over his body. It stuck to the sweat on his skin, but he pulled it further up nonetheless.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

Eliza wasn’t sure what happened, but as he cried and apologized as if he had just done something terrible, she could only watch in horror as Matt folded in on himself. He was riddled with catholic guilt, she knew that, but she never thought it would extend this far. She had never seen him like this before and it was scary as much as it was heartbreaking - she wasn’t scared of him, she was scared of what his mind might have told him to make him feel this way. He recoiled from her because he was ashamed. He refused her touch because he was ashamed, and he apologized because he was ashamed. He hadn’t done anything. She wasn’t mad, far from it. He was too caught up in his mind to listen to her signs.

She reached out slowly, not sure if he wanted her to touch him. “Hey, no,” she asked, “What are you apologizing for?”

He flinched when she touched him.

“You don’t have to…” he swallowed. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… God, I’m so sorry.”

When he didn’t pull away, she wrapped her arms around his back fully and hugged him. “Matthew, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything.”

“No, I-”

“Matt, please, nothing happened. Don’t…”

His body was wrecked by another set of sobs. She whimpered.

“Don’t cry, please. There is no reason for you to be ashamed.”

“I used you,” he said.

“No, you didn’t.”

“I used you for my own pleasure and I didn’t even have the guts to finish it. I have every reason to be ashamed. I…”

She hugged him tighter. At first, he fought, but then he took her hands and melted into her touch further, not sure if he liked the fire she lit within him or hated it, but he knew that he needed her touch because it kept him alive when he felt like dying. He needed to hold onto something or he was sure he would slip away. She cooed into his ear, stroking her hands over where she had his forearms trapped, and nuzzled her nose against his cheek.

“I don’t need to cum to enjoy sex,” she murmured into his ear. “I enjoyed myself anyway. Matt, I…”

Eliza pursed her lips, gently rolling the man onto his back. He hid behind his hands, wiping at the tears that just kept coming. She smoothed her hands over his tense biceps. “Sometimes, sex doesn’t work the way we plan it to, and that’s okay. I don’t think I have to tell you that.”

He hiccuped.

“Have you never…” Her eyebrows furrowed when he said nothing. “You’ve never allowed yourself to cum first?” she said.

Matt shook his head weakly. His cheeks flushed, the embarrassment clouding his mind and his senses, and he tried to pull away from her again. She forced him to look at her, holding his hands close to her chest. She smiled, suddenly relieved, and the softest of laughs passed her lips.

“Are you crying because you feel guilty that I didn’t cum?”

“Let no one seek his own good, but the good of his neighbor,” he recited.

“Yes, but… Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

He scoffed.

“Point is,” she said, forcing his face in her direction again, “There is no reason for you to feel ashamed or expect me to resent you just because you couldn’t hold your orgasm. I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me, you didn’t do anything. In fact, I encouraged you to let go, Matt. I didn’t want you to hurt yourself just because your good catholic brain thinks he needs to serve everyone but himself. I don’t always need to cum first or at all, baby. I would mind if you didn’t care,” she told him, “but you’re literally crying right now, which means a lot to me that you care this badly, but please stop beating yourself up over something so… so normal. You do not have to please everyone all the time, Matthew. It’s okay. Shit happens. Sex goes wrong, and plans change, but that’s okay. And, I mean, I wouldn’t call this gone wrong. I liked it.”

His eyes fluttered close at the gentle touch on his cheek. The tears stopped falling, but he was still shaking.

“Hey,” she kissed one of the freckles on his chest, “Can you talk to me, at least? So I know you’re okay.”

Matt sniffled. “I’m sorry,” he said.

She scolded, “Stop apologizing.”

“No, I’m sorry you didn’t cum, and I’m sorry for pulling away like that.”

“It’s okay,” Eliza shushed him. “Just don’t scare me like that again, okay?”

“I just feel so guilty…” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat before he added, “I love you so much. I really don’t deserve you.”

“That’s not true. You have no reason to feel guilty.”

She laid down on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her in an instant when he felt her close to him.

“I love you too,” she said. “More than anything.”

The pulse between her legs drummed against his thigh. He stiffened. His hand slid lower, over her shoulder blades and ass cheeks, before he slipped it under the sheets to find her neglected cunt, still wet and sticky from his cum. She smelled like him.

“Matt,” said Eliza, catching his hand in the act. This was not what she intended. “I told you, it’s okay that I didn’t…”

“You were so close,” he stated. “Let me finish what I started.”

“It’s okay, I’m not even that horny any- fuck!”

He dragged a finger through the wetness between her folds, his cum and her arousal coating his tips, then rubbed it over her clit and slipped it right into her tight, abused hole.

Matt kissed her temple, his fingers beginning their expert thrusts. “Let me take care of you,” he said.

“I suppose I could…”

His thumb joined her clit as the other two digits scissored her, stretched her out, and pushed against her g-spot whenever he curled them. Her hips lazily matched his strokes. The position seemed uncomfortable, especially for him, but he reignited the desire in her stomach and since he stopped crying and offered like the gentleman he was… all Eliza knew was that she needed to cum. Now that he was already on it, she didn’t want him to stop. She could have easily lived without an orgasm before his fingers slipped back inside of her - now she had no choice but to comply with the magic of his hands as she kept grinding her pelvis against his fingers.

“Keep rocking your hips like that, love. There you go. Make yourself cum. You deserve it.”

His cum moved even deeper inside of her with every thrust. Her hips grew more desperate, she started moving faster and so did his thumb, applying more pressure to her clit. He listened to the blood rushing under her skin and her heartbeat picking up the pace again. Her nails clawed into his skin in need of leverage and she moaned, sucking one of his nipples into her mouth. His free hand moved to her hair, giving her the comfort she needed to let herself go completely.

Her lower stomach moved along his cock and he was getting more than hard again with every sweet sound that reached his ears. He grunted when she applied more pressure, the tip of his cock as sensitive as ever when it got caught against the blanket.

She stopped grinding on his fingers. “Wait,” she exhaled.

He stopped. “What? You okay?”

“Yeah, fine, just…” She sat up, sliding the covers off his body. “Do you think you can, uh, go again?” she asked with a glimpse at his hard-on.

Matt swallowed.

“I just want to feel you inside of me. Please, Matthew.”

His fingers slipped from her cunt. He took them into his mouth, tasting her and himself on the tips of his fingers. He sighed. Her hands rested on his thighs, wide eyes looking up at him expectantly. Her walls pulsated, desperate to feel his cock inside of her again, desperate to cum with him filling her up again.

Hesitantly, he nodded. He would hold back this time, no matter how much it hurt. He would let her cum again and again, as many times as she wanted before he would even think about letting himself cum.

He angled his hands on her hips to help her move up and over his pelvis, lining his cock up with her entrance. She threw her head back when she finally sank down on him. She didn’t need to adjust, she only lowered herself down on him until he was all the way inside and instantly started to rock back and forth with his cock deep inside of her.

He pushed his head into the pillow. His thumb moved back to her clit and he continued the gentle abuse until her thighs shook around his hips and her movements grew sloppy. Her palm rested flat against his scarred chest, the other holding onto the wrist that was between her legs, stimulating her in all the right ways and places.

She could grasp the orgasm again, it was right there, right where she needed him most, and he started to thrust into her from below. He hit her g-spot.

“Fuck, Matthew, I-”

Eliza couldn’t possibly finish her sentence. He caught her by the neck, her thighs locking around his hips and her cunt squeezing his cock tightly. She came, crying softly, and his fingers tightened around her pulse point. She shook, quivering, and her clit pulsated from where his thumb still rubbed against it. Her voice got lost on her, she could only whimper and whine. The thrust he met hers with eased up, her orgasm dragging on for minutes before the wave finally started to subside and retreat back into the ocean of pleasure that left her lightheaded and happy, all tension having fallen off her shoulders, and the minutes before only a distant blur in her head.

She sighed happily.

“Was that penance enough?” he asked. The flush on his cheeks had traveled to his chest again, the sight of his something to be photographed and hung up on the wall as an artistic masterpiece.

She chuckled, stroking his abs. “Partly,” she said.

“What do you mean partly?”

“Well,” she lifted her hips as much as possible, “someone’s still hard.” His cock slipped out of her and slapped against his stomach, emphasizing her point.

“Sweetheart, I already…” Matt swallowed thickly when she sat back down on him, his tip bumping her clit, and they both jolted at the overstimulation. “You don’t have to do this,” he said, but she had already started using the wetness between them to her advantage.

She slid back and forth on his cock, granting herself the sweetest friction of his shaft against her clit and her puffy folds. The swollen bundle of nerves twitched with every stroke and it added to the knot that was quick to build again.

“Give me one more and we’re even,” she purred sweetly, picking up the pace and his disapproving grunt turned into a strangled moan. His pre-cum added to the cum trickling out of her and all of her arousal, causing an obscene cacophony of sounds to fill the room that already smelled of sex, tears, and catholic guilt.

“You know I can deal without a second o-oh, fuck!”

“Two for two. It’s only fair. Now,” she grabbed his hand and forced it back around her throat, “choke me with those beautifully thick fingers of yours while I fuck myself on your cock.”

He growled, tightening his fist so tightly around her throat, she gurgled and saw stars. Matt didn’t even hesitate this time.

“Whore,” he choked out, her hips growing sloppy and her cunt clenching around the air.

She chuckled, nails digging into the area around his nipples as she tugged at them to make him moan. “Yours,” she said.

“Mine,” he said.

“God, I love you so much.”

She shivered.

“My good girl.”

Her body locked up and she came long before he did, his cock disappearing between her folds momentarily as she spasmed over him, coating not only his length but his stomach in her wetness.

His fingers squeezed again, knocking the air out of her lungs. In an instant, he had pulled her back down on him, his cock buried deep in her cunt and he thrust upward two more times before his stomach and balls tensed up and he came hard inside of her, his cum coating her walls for the second time and making her feel so incredibly full, she moaned. She clenched to keep him inside, to feel him mark her forever and keep the reminder of him deep inside of her.

His grip loosened and she toppled over, head landing on his chest, and she panted heavily into his chest. She felt like a used, wet towel covered in cum and sweat and some of his tears. He held her, not quite trusting himself just yet either. His entire body shook with the aftershocks of his orgasm and hers combined, chest heaving and aligning with hers.

After a moment of regaining power over their minds and limbs, Eliza lifted her head, cheekily staring into his eyes. “Guess we fixed that,” she said.

He took a deep breath before he laughed, pulling out of her and rolling them over until she was on her back and he could slot himself between her thighs. She yelped. His grin reached from one to the other ear, diving down to capture her lips in a loving, heated kiss that had her sighing into his mouth.

“I’m sorry for earlier,” he said. “I overreacted.”

As he traced her hair out of her face, she returned the gesture with another kiss. “Don’t overthink it,” she said. “As I said, shit happens. Sex doesn’t always work flawlessly.”

“I know, but… I don’t know, no one’s ever been this attentive to my needs before and I just… I can’t believe that you’re still here with me.”

“You better start believing then, counselor, because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

“I’m starting to think you’re right.”

“About damn time.”

Their fingers intertwined over her head and their lips found back home again.

The clock kept ticking, but for them, time had long stopped being real. They enjoyed each other’s company with lazy kisses under the warm blankets, the sun shining through the closed curtains and turning the brown in his eyes into the color of honey. His lip glistened with her saliva and hers were swollen from the many times he had buried his teeth in her bottom lip. His hand rested on her sternum, fingers resting just above her aorta where he felt her pulse steadily thrumming against the skin from below. She was alive, he was alive, and they were together, right where they belonged. There was no reason to worry. There was no reason to feel ashamed. She didn’t run or curse him, she stayed. If he had to keep his hand around her neck forever to remind him of that, he would gladly do it and she would let him.

After a prolonged shower, the couple feasted on the pancakes that had long gone cold. With a glimpse at the clock, Eliza realized they spent more than three hours tangled in bed together, and he had already let her sleep in which put the time somewhere around noon when they finally had breakfast and coffee.

It was a domestic sight; Matt did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen while she sat back and watched him move around in everyday clothes and a content smile on his face. The happiness bloomed in her chest like a young flower, still fragile and not at her full size, but it was growing and blooming with each passing sunray. He was her sun and her love was growing more and more every day, as did her happiness. The field of positive emotions was expanding and she couldn’t wait to tell someone, anyone, about how happy he made her. Eliza was sure she would combust. Even during their darkest times, they held each other’s hands, and she would never pull away from him again.

The harsh ringtone of her phone tore her out of her dreamy haze. She flinched, reaching for the device at the edge of the table. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she muttered under her breath when she read the caller ID.

Matt frowned. “What?” he asked, his lips pursed in the most adorable, most curious pout she had seen in a while.

Eliza shook her head. “It’s just… Happy,” she said.

“And? Aren’t you waiting for a call from him?”

“I’m waiting for Tony to call me back, not his forehead of security.”

“Forehead of-”

“Doesn’t matter. I gotta take this.”

“Oh,” he hummed, “Okay.”

Closing the door behind her, she swiped left. She answered without wasting a second on pleasantries, “About fucking time you picked up your phone to call me back,” she said.

“I’m sorry, I was busy,” Happy retorted. Behind him, several voices kept screaming at each other. “Stark Industries doesn’t sleep, not even on weekends, you know that.”

“I’m well aware, but I called you because it was urgent and you what, didn’t even listen to my fifty voicemails until now?”

“Listen, Liz, I didn’t even think you’d still read the letter. I tried to talk to Tony, but he won’t let anyone into his office, as usual. I talked to Pepper, but he hasn’t talked to her either. I tried his cell, but he won’t answer. I don’t think it’s personal. He’s shutting us out, too.”

“Did you tell him, at least?”

“Of course, I did. I told him you wanted to talk, but I got nothing. No reaction, no sign of life, nothing. You know, maybe you should come over and talk to him in person.”

“Talk to him in-” She bit down on her fist, trying to calm the quiver in her voice. “I left him ten voicemails. If he doesn’t answer them, that’s his problem. I made a step toward him. I told him I’m open to negotiation. If he’s not willing to talk to me, he can take his letter and shove it up his fucking ass! Tell him that. Maybe that will wake him up.”

“You know he hates confrontation,” he said.

“By God, that is not my problem.”

Happy sighed. “Did you go to your father’s apartment yet? You said he left you the key in the letter, right?”

“I don’t know if I will,” she said, her answer truthful and vulnerable but at the same time incredibly angry. “I remember what he wrote in his letter, but I don’t know many things right now, so it’d be nice of Tony to get his shit together and talk to me like a normal person. He started this. He has to find the guts to talk to me. I won’t take another step before he doesn’t crawl out from under this depressive stone he’s crawled himself under. I respect he’s struggling, but he wasn’t there when I was struggling, so I will not cave. I did my part, now it’s his turn.”

“Look, I’m trying, okay? But I can’t promise anything. Hell, I don’t even know what he’s thinking. I can’t help you with this, Liz. You and Tony need to solve this yourself. I can’t be the messenger,” he said. “I’ve got enough on my plate with the work Pepper has left me with since she doesn’t have you to help her anymore, and I just… I’m drowning here, so I need you to reconcile with Tony and get back here.”

Eliza let out a high-pitched laugh. “No,” she answered plainly. “I have a job, I have a life and I won’t be roped back into being a servant. The Avengers are over and I’m done. I’m willing to talk to Tony but only if he shows that he still cares about what he wrote in that letter. That is my condition. If you won’t… if you don’t want to play the messenger, that’s fine,” she said, “I still love you like family, Happy. This is not your weight to carry, you’re right. But if Tony doesn’t answer me, I guess you will have to deal with the fact that I won’t return. That’s my condition, that’s the deal. Tony comes to me or I won’t come back at all. There is no negotiating a peace if neither parties are willing to make a truce.”

He challenged her with, “Are you?”

She nodded, her jaw set in stone. “I am, but is Tony? That’s the real question. If I don’t get an answer, that only means he doesn’t care about reconciling, or he’s changed his mind about me, I don’t know. I don’t care. I just want to move on. Tell him that. Let him know where I stand one last time, and that’s it. If he still doesn’t act, that’s his problem and I won’t bother you with this anymore. But I won’t come around for someone who doesn’t care about putting effort into getting our relationship back on track. I need him to take the bait first before I take that road. He doesn’t deserve the cab money I’d spend to get to you, not yet.”

The line went eerily quiet before he gave a weary sigh. “Alright, I’ll tell him. One last time,” he emphasized, “and then it’s on the two of you to figure this out.”

“Thank you!”

“I only do this because I love you.”

“Thanks, Happy, appreciate it.”

“And because you’re both very dear to me, but that’s it.”

“I get it, thank you.”

“Yeah.”

“And Happy?”

“What?”

“I’m, uh, planning to have a funeral for my father. I don’t… You’ve never met him but maybe, if I end up deciding that I want this… maybe you want to come? Would that- would that be something you can do?”

“Oh,” he stuttered. “I… yes, of course. If that- if you want this, sure. Tell me the time and place and I’ll be there.”

Eliza nodded slowly, her eyes trailing out onto the street below the apartment and the Billboard that stood before it. “I haven’t my mind up yet,” she said. “I might not do it, I don’t know. I guess I’d have to go to his apartment first, see what he left me, but I can’t… if Tony and I can’t even get our shit together after he wrote that letter and I realized I made mistakes too, what use would it have to try and make amends with what Anton left me? He’s the reason all of this shit went down in the first place. He forced Tony to make an impossible decision. And I still…” Her fist hit the window quietly. “I still love him like a daughter would love a father who was there. It’s… it’s twisted. So please, Happy, tell Tony to call me back, at least. I need to know where we stand,” she said. “And I’ll tell you the rest over a cup of coffee, okay?”

He seemed to scramble something on the other end. Paper rustled and he pulled out a pen. “How about tomorrow at…” he flipped a page, “Ten?”

She chuckled. “Can’t. Uh, Matt is making me go to Sunday Mass with him.”

“You’re going to church?”

“Yeah, mostly because I need to talk funeral arrangements with the father because you know, my dad was Russian catholic, so a catholic funeral is the closest he can get here, and Matt said Clinton Church actually does these really nice services… I don’t know, I’m coming with him to find answers and some guidance on what to do, I guess,” she trailed off.

It sounded as if he nodded on the other end. “You want me to come?” he asked.

“What?” Eliza sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. “No, I…” she shook her head. “Would you?”

The question was useless. Even though Happy was far from being a catholic or a church-goer, he would do it for her. He would pack his stuff and come to church with her. She didn’t need to ask to know the answer he would give.

“Where is it?”

“Clinton Church,” she told him.

“I’ll be there.”

“Wait, maybe I should ask Matt-”

“Oh, no, he offered,” said Happy.

“Wait, what?”

“Not this Sunday mass, of course, but he asked me if I wanted to join him for some church gatherings someday. When we were texting, I mean.”

Her eyes almost bulged out of her head. “You texted?”

“We do every day, yeah.”

“How did I not know this?” She looked over at the closed bedroom door.

“Well, he said he wants to get to know me because you guys are pretty serious and he wants to make sure you have a good support system.”

“He… he said that?”

The glaze of unshed tears wiped over her eyes. Her heart grew even heavier with the pure love that weighed like a brick of gold. She was so thankful, it almost hurt how in love she was with him. She was sure she picked the right one.

Matt was the kind of man who would care about her always, and make sure she wasn’t alone when she needed someone. She was the first and last thought on his mind all day, every day, and he used every chance he got to take care of her with all he had, even if he had to wear himself thin for it. He dedicated his life and his soul to the people he loved, and now she was the one thing he cherished most in life and she got everything he had to give, no matter how scared or insecure he was. He held on even when she couldn’t. He was afraid she might leave him again, afraid of getting hurt, afraid of losing her - he held on because he loved her and he showed her that in all the ways he could, in all the ways he only knew how. She didn’t deserve even half of what he did for her.

“He’s the one,” she murmured.

The tap in the other room turned on and she hoped the water concealed her words enough for him to not pick them up.

“I’m gonna marry him, Happy,” Eliza blurted out, her head turned far away from the door.

He gasped. “Wow, okay,” he said.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t… but I needed to tell someone. Because if he comes to you to ask for your blessing - and he will, I mean, that man is highly catholic and you’re the closest thing I have to a father right now - I want you to say yes because him? I’m not letting him go again, no matter what it takes. Even if I have to propose to him myself.”

She knew she couldn’t give him the kind of traditional family his religion saw fit, but she wanted to give him everything else she could. She wanted to be his family and she wanted to grow old with him. And if she was already so sure about that, she was certain she wouldn’t change her mind again. The feeling was overwhelming and it needed to be said out loud, and the more she admitted it to herself, the bigger the flower of happiness in her chest grew. it overshadowed all the pain and the fear that once consumed her. With Matt, she had hope, and she was sure she could one day be happy and careless just with him. Him and her, for all eternity, because he was the only man she truly needed.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Happy said suddenly. She had missed about half of their conversation.

She blinked, tearing her eyes away from the streets of New York. “Sure, yeah, tomorrow,” she said.

The line clicked and she was left alone in the buzz of love and her thoughts putting a blanket of comfort over her.

Matt, who seemed laser-focused on cleaning the cupboard with his spice collection, jumped a little when he felt her arms around his waist. “Hey there,” he chuckled softly, her face buried between his shoulder blades.

Eliza breathed him in. She could not be waivered in her decision - she loved him. He was home. “Thank you,” she said.

“For what?” he asked.

“Everything.”

He got off his tiptoes to turn around, holding her in his arms now. “Everything?”

“I love you.” She leaned up to kiss him. “So much.”

He chuckled. “And I love you so much, too.”

“Did you hear us talking on the phone?”

“No,” it wasn’t even a lie, “Why?”

“No reason.”

“Is there something I need to know?”

“Not yet,” she told him.

“What’s that mean?”

“Nothing. I’m just glad you’re here with me.”

He kissed her again, then engulfed her in a bone-crushing hug that took all of the air out of her lungs.

Eventually, he loosened his grip to feel his wrist, checking for his watch. When he couldn’t find it, he sighed. “What time is it?” Matt asked.

She kissed his empty wrist, eyes switching to the oven clock. It came with the apartment, most likely, but didn’t benefit him in any way. “Six,” she answered.

He could tell by the change in air density and the fading tourist sounds that were replaced by music and limousines driving the streets of Hell’s Kitchen toward Manhattan that it was already dark outside.

“Is it dark?” he checked to clarify.

“Almost,” she said. “Why?”

“Get dressed,” he then told her. “We’re leaving at seven.”

“What’s going on? Why are we leaving?”

“I have a surprise for you.” His lip twitched. “Just do as you’re told, sweetheart. You’re gonna love it, I promise.”

“What kind of clothes?”

“I don’t know, clothes.”

“Matt.”

“Honestly, you can wear a trash bag. I don’t care.”

Eliza huffed, but she distanced herself from him against all reservations and returned to the bedroom. She pulled out a pair of jeans and a shirt - the most basic outfit choice she could think of. In her mind, they were going for a walk or breaking into a museum to have a date night. She didn’t think much of it. Matt loved to take risks and he loved spontaneous arrangements even more. She wondered if he would take her to have some street food and ice cream, perhaps return to the Lavender Haze park that she had grown to love after their shared dance. Maybe he would take her dancing. Or he would do something unexpected and they would end up in trouble. She wasn’t sure and she hated he refused to tell her.

When she got out of the bedroom, dressed and ready, and she caught sight of him, she settled on the latter suspicion.

He was wearing his Daredevil suit, minus the cowl, standing at the foot of the couch waiting for her. “Hold up,” she said. her heart dropped, her face paled and her fingers started to itch. She had been angry and sweating before during the phone call, but… she didn’t like this. Whatever idea he had, it was a bad one.

“Do I need to wear fighting equipment, is that- what are we doing?” Eliza gave him a questioning and suspicious look. “You know I can’t… it’s dangerous for me to be out there, Matt. You can’t just take me out after sunset all ominous with a secret surprise in your Daredvil suit, not after what happened yesterday. Dark alleys are no great surprises. Being a vigilante is not my thing.”

Matt grabbed her shoulders to bring her face-to-face with him again. He smashed their lips together to shut her up, her heartbeat loud and clear and about twice its usual speed. “Relax,” he said, “We’re not doing that.”

“Then why are you wearing that fucking suit?”

Even her body was shaking.

“Shh,” he stroked his thumb over her cheek, “The surprise is waiting somewhere I can’t be Matt Murdock, but that’s it. We’re not jumping head-first into reckless danger. I’m not trying to push you to use your powers or anything like that. I would never do that, baby.”

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, bottom lip between her teeth.

What if she hurt someone again?

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

She couldn’t say no to that, so she answered truthfully, as always, “Of course, I do,” she said.

“Then let me take you there and you’ll see that it’s only half bad. Hm?” He tugged at her lip. “Can you do that for me, Angel?”

Eliza shivered. “I don’t…” she looked into his sparkling eyes, the small smirk on his lips, and the trust she had for him exceeded her expectations. “Okay,” she said, caving. “I can do that.”

“Good ‘cause we have to leave now if we don’t want to be late.” He pecked her lips. “Let’s do this, huh? Let me surprise you.”

“I hate surprises.”

“You’re gonna have a love-hate relationship with this one, trust me.”

Eliza pouted after him as he jogged up the stairs to the roof exit. “That somehow makes it worse.”

He chuckled, opening the door and waiting for her to follow in his footsteps. “Are you coming?” he said.

She clutched the necklace he gifted her.

“Sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” she grumbled, “I’m coming.”

“That’s my girl.”

He didn’t miss the death glare she shot him as she passed by him.

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” Matt slapped her ass, “It’s not a good look on you.”

“Stop slapping my ass,” she retorted.

Clicking his tongue, he chuckled, “Never.”

He took her down dark roads over dark rooftops and alleyways until they reached a particularly dark dead end. It seemed like a driveway in an alley somewhere in Hell’s Kitchen, the space leading up to the door of a garage.

Matt placed a finger against his lips when she opened her mouth. “What are we doing here?” she asked anyway.

“Trust me,” he mouthed back. He reached for the lock on the door.

“Wait, are we breaking in?”

“Eliza.”

“That’s illegal.”

But he didn’t break the lock, thank God, he only took it and banged it against the metal. It was a rhythm of two thuds, a small pause, and then another three. She stared at her boyfriend, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen in all of his glory with the moonlight falling on his red eyes, and then at the metal door that separated them from whatever place they found themselves.

She grabbed his arm when they received no answer, whispering into his ear. “We should go. Whatever we’re doing here, this can wait until the morning, can’t it?”

After everything, she was a bit queasy about cops. She didn’t want to be a suspect again. That didn’t end so well the last time.

“It’s gonna be fine,” he assured her. “Just… wait. Sometimes it takes a moment.”

Matt knocked again, this time with his clothed fist. The same rhythm filled the quiet night. For a few seconds, the world went deathly quiet. Then, finally, the lock twisted and turned and it clicked. His lip twitched into a satisfied, knowing smirk. He opened the door, holding it open behind him so Eliza could step into the dimly lit garage after him.

She kept her head low, her heartbeat steady but with goosebumps on her skin. She wasn’t sure what to think of this place if she was supposed to trust it or be weary. Matt seemed more than comfortable, but that didn’t mean anything. The person this garage belonged to could turn out to be her worst enemy for all she knew, he wouldn’t even have to know.

“I was wondering when you’d come,” the male voice somewhere on the other end of the room behind wooden palettes and mannequins said. “Thanks to the measurements you gave me, I got finished much faster than usual. It’s not perfect, but you said it was urgent so I focused more on the practical components than the aesthetic ones. I hope that’s okay. Although I’ve been wondering why you’d need such a small suit.” The man chuckled, his voice now resembling the sound of a child’s laughter.

He stepped out of the darkness of the other half of his garage, bald-headed with a mustache and wearing a blue flannel atop a v-neck and a pair of jeans. His boots scratched against the floor. He held a towel in his hand, another over his shoulder. When he saw Matt in the comfort of the dark, he didn’t shy away, he only smiled.

“You didn’t lose weight,” he stated. “Oh, but the holes in your suit…” The stranger approached him and Eliza’s fists clenched at her sides, ready to attack him even though he screamed anything but dangerous in the way he carried himself, and he spoke like he couldn’t consciously hurt a fly. He looked strong, but only physically, his mind seemed to be a little more twisted. “What did you do, get shot at?”

“Melvin,” Matt interrupted him instead.

“Yes?”

“I want you to meet someone,” he said.

He stepped aside to reveal her. She frowned, looking between him and who she suspected was Melvin. He looked confused at first, then his eyes widened and he stepped back.

“Woah, man, I told you…” he reached for the screwdriver on his workbench. “No new people. You promised. For me, for- for Betsy. You were supposed to be my friend!”

Eliza instantly lifted her arms at the smallest hint of fear in his voice and demeanor. “No,” she said, “No, I’m not a bad guy. Far from it. I’m just… Honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing here, but I’m not here to hurt you. He didn’t bring me here to hurt you. Melvin, was it?” she asked.

He nodded.

“You seem like a good guy, Melvin. Good intuition. Tell me, am I lying?”

Melvin eyed her carefully, his grip on the screwdriver loosening, as did Matt’s shoulders. He looked at the Daredevil, his lips pursed. “It’s for her?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Matt.

“Is she like you? A superhero?”

“Do you watch the news?”

“No, Betsy won’t let me.”

“That’s… understandable. Doesn’t matter. You’ve heard about the Avengers though, right?”

Melvin nodded, surer this time.

“Well, she’s one of them, and she’s my friend. So in some ways, she is like me, but in most ways, she is better. Now, I didn’t come here to hurt you. We have a deal, you’re right. I asked you to do this for her.”

“You’re an Avenger?” he questioned, eyeing her up and down again. His shoulders straightened and he stepped closer. “Which one?”

“Well, I’m not the Hulk,” Eliza said. She shrugged.

He looked at her more closely, then his lip cracked up and he laughed. He laughed loudly, eyes crinkling at the corners, and only then did Matt ease up completely and she sighed, somehow more relieved that he didn’t run away screaming than anything else.

“I’m Eliza,” she told him.

“My name’s Melvin. Potter,” he said.

“Nice meeting you.”

“I make his suits.”

“You-” she turned to Matt with raised eyebrows. “That is oddly interesting,” she said.

“D saved me and Betsy from Mister Fisk. I owe him my life.”

Matt chuckled awkwardly, waving his hand. “It’s not… it doesn’t matter,” he shrugged it off. “It was nothing. Fisk deserved to be locked away.”

“According to Melvin, you are a hero.”

“That’s because he is. Daredevil is a hero,” said Melvin. He scrambled back to reach for a box he put on the shelf that separated both halves of the room. It was a brown wooden box with a bow.

Eliza eyed the bow curiously.

“So I help Daredevil out,” he continued, “and he helps me out. Today though, I’ve helped him by making this.”

Matt removed his glove and stopped him, a bare hand on the box. “Thanks, Melvin,” he said.

“You want me to give it to her now?”

Eliza stepped into the light of the lamp that hung from the ceiling and shone its light on the workbench. “Give me what?” she asked.

The two men shared a look. He toyed with the bow.

“When you got hurt last night, I thought… you said you didn’t have a suit and that you need to be in control of yourself so you can control your powers. I know that doesn’t even begin to cut it close,” he said, “but I asked Melvin to make something for you so you can try again. I know how much you need the fight, almost more than I do.”

Matt motioned for Melvin to open the lid. He did.

“What did you do?” Eliza murmured.

The bow slipped off. She peeked into the dark inside. It was the same red fabric Matt had incorporated into his suit, though hers was a mix between black, scarlet, maroon and crimson, all sorted in different spots. The chest piece looked similar to a pair of feathery wings, the sleeves long with cut-outs on her elbow and her upper arms and there was a belt around the waist attached to something resembling a skirt, but it was open in the front and attached to a pair of leather pants. The cleavage was barely visible, a few leather bands attached to a piece around the collarbones and throat. They were sewn in a triangular formation, and in the middle of the amalgamation of fabric with the small slits in-between, there set a red crystal. It wasn’t real, or she figured it wasn’t, but it was formed like a rhombus or a diamond and the color fit perfectly. And when she touched it, it glowed.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered. Her breath got stolen away. “D… Melvin… I- I don’t know how… Jesus fucking Christ.”

“It’s not perfect because I had to rush, but if you look at it from the outside,” Melvin told her and lifted the suit out of its confines, “It actually looks pretty good. The crimson parts can divert a bullet, the black might deflect a knife, and the other ones… well, they’re actually just fillers for decoration. So maybe try not to get shot or stabbed there.”

“The crystal,” she pointed out.

“Oh, that’s just for decoration, but it lights up under touch, so if you ever need a flashlight in the dark…” he pressed his finger down on it. The softest red glow erupted from the stone, and the glass that enveloped it glittered slightly. “One of Betsy’s necklaces gave me the idea.” he looked so adorable. He was proud of himself, there was no doubt about it, and she couldn’t blame him.

The suit was beautiful, with careful craftsmanship and he put thought behind it. It was nothing like the Avengers suit Tony made for her or the one she had to wear at SHIELD. This one was personalized, especially with the angel wings and the red. Matt must have told him all about her because the suit was hers. It spelled Red Angel. The one thing people would expect upon hearing her name laid right in her hands, and she could wear it any time. She could become a hero again, one that would be known as more than just an Avenger. It was a fever dream and Matt had made it true with just one phone call the other night. He did that for her. For her, for Eliza, not just for anyone. First the necklace, now the suit - he was planning to make her cry.

She blinked the tears away. “It’s beautiful,” her voice bordered on a whisper.

“Would you like to put it on?” Melvin asked. “I need to see if I got the measurements right.”

“I don’t doubt he got them just right,” she told him with a look at Matt. The man blushed the same color as his suit. “But yes, I’d like to put it on, if you don’t mind.”

he opened his arms toward a secluded space. “You can get changed over there if you want.”

She grabbed the suit with shaky hands, excitement and anxiety blurring together. “Thanks.”

“Meanwhile, I gotta fix the holes in your man’s suit. It’s a wonder he hasn’t been killed yet, walking around like that…”

As she kept shedding out of her clothes behind the wooden palettes, she chuckled. “I thought the same thing,” she declared.

“It’s just a few scrapes,” Matt jumped to his own defense.

Melvin went in with a needle and thread, adding some more of the fabric he found. “You should have brought this to me sooner,” he said.

“I didn’t have the time, and I’m here now, so…”

“Almost too late.”

By the time Eliza had finished squeezing into the tight fabric, Melvin had patched up most of the significant holes in the Daredevil suit. Upon his offer to do more than just add a few stitches, Matt declined. He heard her accelerated heartbeat and her steps approaching from behind the curtain.

Judging from Melvin’s stunned silence, she must have looked good. She brushed past him and stood in front of the mirror that stood against the dirty wall. “Zip me up?” she said to Matt.

His hands went to work. They would have without being asked to, but he didn’t want to come off desperate. He found the zipper and pulled it up, feeling the fabric in the process. It was similar to his but not the same. He touched the waistline and the way the entire suit fit her body perfectly, every last measurement in the right place. The top hugged her breasts perfectly and offered support even without a bra and the makeshift skirt that he told him to add gave her the same individuality she lacked in the other suits. This was her now, no one else’s, and like this, she couldn’t be confused with anyone else.

He touched the gem in the middle of her sternum. “Perfect,” he purred into her ear. “You look perfect.”

Tears sprung into her eyes. She hadn’t quite comprehended the sight of herself in such a perfectly tailored fight suit yet. Tony did his best with her old one, but no one had ever personalized it the way Melvin did before. Especially the wings that adorned the front made it look so much more epic. It wasn’t just a suit, this was like a second skin made for her specifically, and she had Matt to thank for that. Without his senses, he wouldn’t have been able to guess her measurements right. His attention to detail paid off in the end, especially around the zones that were hard to fit. She had never felt more comfortable in a piece of clothing.

“Wow, this is… thank you,” she breathed. “Thank you, Matt, really. I don’t know what else to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I told you, you only deserve the best. And maybe this proves to you that you are meant to be a hero.”

“Maybe you’re right…”

“I’ve got something else for you,” Melvin cut in from behind. He held two knives in his hands, possibly even daggers. “These are made to fit into the holsters on your thighs,” he explained. “Here.” He demonstrated by sliding the blade into the tiny pockets on the sides of her pants. “I heard you might need those.”

Knowing Matt probably told him all about her obsession with knives, she chuckled. “It’s beautiful,” said Eliza, admiring the sight of the handles sticking out of her thighs and how they blended with the rest of the suit. “Thank you, Melvin.”

He nodded. “I also have matching gloves, if you’d be interested.”

“I thought you said you had limited time.”

“There’s always time for gloves.”

He pulled them from the wooden box and handed them to her. She slid the leather gloves on, relishing the fact that even they fit perfectly, neither too large nor too small. She moved her fingers, testing the flexibility. She could easily fight like that, use all of her skills, and still be protected.

“Thank you, really,” she said again, eyeing her new outfit in the mirror. She felt comfortable in her skin, finally, like nothing could disturb her. She was invincible, almost. “I couldn’t have asked for a better gift.”

“Your boyfriend had the idea, I just executed it.”

She smiled up at Matt who seemed to try and bite back a smirk. “I know. I guess he just really loves me.”

“I guess he does,” said Matt.

“You’re crazy.”

He stood behind her again, stroking her shoulders and the new sensation of the fabric on her skin. “Someone had to give you faith again, even if it’s just in yourself. Tell me,” he said, “did I succeed?”

Eliza placed the palm of his hand over her heart. “You did,” she said, and her heartbeat was sure to underline the truth of the statement.

His teeth grazed her ear. “You know, I believe there are a few robbers in the bank down the street. I can hear them.”

She smirked, his red eyes dangerously staring into hers through the mirror. She matched his demeanor, taking his hand and intertwining their fingers at her side. “That would be unfortunate if we didn’t stop them, don’t you think?”

“Indeed it would,” he hummed. “Would you like to test the suit’s flexibility now, my Angel?”

Pulling him with her toward the door, she paid no mind to Melvin’s confused figure in their way. And she said to him, “I thought you’d never ask, my Devil.” As if she had never doubted herself in the first place, ever.

And just like that, the Red Angel was reborn and Daredevil, the man without fear, sustained her existence with a love he had never fathomed possible to conjure up for anyone but his city. The two became a team to be reckoned with, and with trouble on the horizon like every dark and twisted night in Hell’s Kitchen, New York needed their personal bodyguards more than ever.

New York City, the city that never sleeps, and a duo of vigilantes that no criminal wanted to mess with - that no one knew even existed until it was too late, and Hell’s Kitchen could fall asleep in peace (or a resemblance of that, at least) once more.

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kashimos-hajime · 4 years

Text

late night devils | b.b.

summary: bucky gets revenge on his ex with you, the girl he never got over no matter how much he thought he did.

WARNINGS: smut (18+, oral - m receiving), daddy kink, sub/dom elements, y’all out here being nasty and vindictive, drinking, swearing, mentions of cheating pairing: modern!bucky x fem!reader word count: 5.0k

a/n: smut with very little plot bc i have no brain for it. enjoy heheheh ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) bucky is PUSSYWHIPPED ngl

Bucky doesn’t expect to get a call asking for him to come over when he’s sitting at the bar counter, but he gets it and if he could, he’d break his phone in his fist.

“I told you, Dot, it’s fucking over.” The music is blasting in the club, bright with life, as Bucky tips back another shot. It’s a busy Thursday night. The dance floor is nearly completely occupied and the bass thrums through the floor as he tries to let his ex down gently as he has been for the past ten minutes.

“You can’t be serious. You think you can just walk out after three years—”

Alright. That’s enough.

“And do you think you can just call me like I’m some fucking booty call three days before your wedding after you dropped me like I was fucking nothing? No. Goodnight.”

Tapping his screen to hang up, Bucky sets down his phone with a hard sigh and gestures to Sam for another line of shots. His hand was burning from how long he held the stupid phone for, and he cools it down by cradling his vodka glass, pushing it back and forth between his hands.

“Dot, again?”

“Yeah.”

“Tough, man. I’ll get you some shots when I get Romanoff off her little blondie’s lap” His friend taps the bar counter in a show of support before heading to the end where Natasha was flirting with one certain blond man. Steve. AKA their resident bouncer currently off duty. Bucky rolls his eyes, smiling for a moment as Natasha turns around. The two give a talk before Natasha ducks underneath the countertop door and slips into the crowd, Steve in hand.

“Hey, Sam!” A sharp, too-sober voice catches Bucky’s hearing and he turns to see a woman wrapped in a leather jacket and tight fucking jeans burst through the crowd. Rain is still glistening along your shoulders and you pull your hair out from underneath your jacket. You wear a hoodie beneath the leather and as you lean against the bar beside him, he catches the words printed onto the chest.

Yes, I’m single. It reads, bright white against the black of your hoodie. Now’s your chance.

His eyebrows rise as you catch Sam’s attention. His friend glances at you but Bucky merely shrugs, looks at you, and thinks, A regular? Fine. I’ll bite.

“What’s the strongest you’ve got?” You tap your fingers impatiently and he watches the strobe lights glint on your black nails as you lean forward on your arms. He shifts back and you send him a glance, eyebrow arched as your eyes rake visibly over his form. Damn, you’re confident, and when you grin, he decides maybe you’ll be an apt distraction from his fucking problems.

“Not the usual?”

“Need something stronger tonight, Sammy,” you sing and he grins.

“I’ll make you something special. Let’s work up to Everclear, yeah?” Sam turns to Bucky, leaning onto his elbows. “Whaddya say, boss? Break out the Everclear for a pretty girl?”

“Now, hold up,” Bucky says, putting up a hand to catch your attention and he smirks as Sam brings out ten shot glasses pinched between his fingers.

“Hey.” Your eyes flicker over his body visibly and he smirks, twisting slightly to look at you fully. His knees part widely and maybe it’s the alcohol he’s already had, but it looks like you glance right between his legs.

“Hey.” The red lights swing their way, blinding him for a moment before it’s gone again. Sam lines up the shot glasses and Bucky watches as he pours them overflowing before glancing at you again. “Wanna? On the house.”

“Are we working up to body shots?” you ask slyly, sliding into the empty stool as he shrugs, grabbing the first one on his end. You take one from the other and throw it back as he does the same. It burns all the way down.

“If you wanna,” he says with a shrug and you laugh. “Hold on the Everclear, Sam. Let’s get to know the pretty lady first.” You snort into your second shot as Sam shakes his head when someone flags him down.

“Well, I’ve gotta get to work,” he says pointedly. “But you kids have fun.”

“Fine by me.” Bucky shrugs. “That just means I get all your attention.”

“Don’t like sharing?”

He half-laughs, pushing down shot three and four in rapid succession before slamming the glasses down on the wood. “Nope. I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“Consider me charmed.”

“No name?”

“I’m not looking for names tonight,” you say before you order another line of shots.

Something about you is undeniably charming. You give the air that he’s known you his whole life as you talk and listen and laugh. He gravitates towards you as you speak and talks about everything when you listen because he has this feeling you won’t judge him. It’s something about the confidence, the way you don’t give a fuck about what he thinks of you. It’s so different from Dot.

Dot, who worried about what that girl was thinking about Bucky or what that guy thought about her. And there was nothing wrong with caring, but Bucky couldn’t bear to give a shit about anything anymore.

“So you’re here because of a broken heart?” you point out after he explained his phone call prior to their meeting and he chuckles, the vodka making his head pulse with the beat in the club. The red and blue lights flash and blur in his vision but your face is still clear.

“Nah. I don’t love her,” he says, turning to the mojitos he ordered for the both of them. Yours is half gone, his gone completely. “Just… sick of being some stupid second fucking choice. She leaves me for a millionaire then comes crawling back for one last fuck. Fucking ridiculous,” he spits, grabbing your mojito and sucking it down.

“You’re preaching to a damn choir,” you say scathingly.

“Husband?” he pries and you eye him for a moment knowingly.

“Boyfriend. Left me for some kid in high school. We’re fucking third year college, man. That shit’s so gross and I’m ready to beat the shit out of him. Might as well do it drunk.”

“Hah, I did that once.”

“Get with a highschooler?” you ask, voice tinging with something judgmental and he laughs because it’s such an outrageous notion and he can’t help but agree. Fucking nasty.

“Fuck, no. I had a best friend I was fucking in love with,” he begins, the mint cool against his tongue. “High school. Got creeped on by some older dude and I beat the fuck out of him when he got too close for her liking. Got expelled, never saw her again after her grad when I realized she was probably going to head to uni and go big, but damn if it was worth it, even if it meant she went with someone else to fucking prom. Fucking Brock Rumlow.” His eyes drift to yours as you stare at him and he chews on his straw, explaining in the briefest of sentences. “Resident asshole of our year.”

There’s a quiet where he sets down the mojito again, and his head is swimming with memories. At the last time he saw the girl of his dreams, graduation cap pinned to hair and a sunset burnishing their street gold.

“No fucking way. Bucky?” you say and he looks at you from his—your—drink. “As in James Buchanan Barnes?” you ask with a scoff evident in your voice and he arches an eyebrow. “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“What—” His insides are on fire, and his eyes fall to your lips as you press them into a frown. “Who?”

“You fucker!” You slug him in the arm and he yelps, clutching the offended bicep as you take him by the shoulders. “You fucking left me!” He is forced to look at you as your eyes search his. They’re dark with something he thinks is bitter love, and his eyebrows knit together. What is his luck with women lately?

“Who the fuck are you?” he yells over the thundering music, but his answer is swallowed up by a pair of searing lips. Fists in the lapel of his suit jacket, he groans into your mouth as his hand darts to your hips. He drags you flush against him and you crash into his body. Hitching a leg over his, he feels up your hoodie and you open up beneath his mouth. Your hips dip against his as you jump into his lap and he holds you there by the thighs, squeezing the flesh through your jeans.

“Fuck, James,” you whisper and he feels it all again in a heartbeat. That intense, selfish love that seized him as he walked away from you. The way he fucked you in the bathroom before the ceremony, gown bunched at your waist, pants barely shoved past his hips. The curious disgust every time he got with someone that wasn’t the girl from the stall. It’s you. “God, don’t you recognize me?”

These past few years dating Dot, feeling like he’d move past a tiny infatuation, obliterated to nothing as your voice tears down his defenses. Tears down everything he’s built, every lie that you’re nothing more than the past.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs against your desperate lips and you sink into his lap deeper, arms wrapped around his neck. “Fuck. Yes.” He tilts his chin up when you run your teeth along his neck and his eyes close shut. Heat is surging to his cock at the thought of tearing you apart here and his jeans tighten as your hips grind down against his. “Could never fucking forget you. Grown ass woman, now, huh?”

“Fuck me,” you whisper, pulling off of him though it’s more of an order and he nods, standing up with a stagger. Your hand is insistent on his wrist, hand melting through his skin.

“I live five minutes away,” he mumbles, drunk off his ass. When he looks at you, he doesn’t see smokey eyes or mulberry painted lips. You weren’t always so dark, direct, rough around the edges.

No, you were bright eyes and strawberry lip gloss once. Straight A’s, straighter laces. By the books and popular and pretty and innocent until he got you on his bed and ate it out of you.

Maybe he fucked the good girl out of you.

He doesn’t mind. He already knows he likes it when you’re bad.

“Fuck.”

His nails scratch down your back pleasantly and you purr, pressing him deeper into his couch. You’ve managed to slip out of all your clothes on the walk up and his hand digs into your hip, his other hand working against your slick heat. The heel of his hand rubs against your clit as you lift and sink into three fingers. Your walls clench around him and he groans at the tight suction as his phone rings.

“Ignore it,” you mumble, kissing him sloppily and his tongue glides against yours, burning with vodka. His hand runs up your back to grab your hair and he yanks your head back, licking down your neck. “James—”

“Fucking missed this, sweetheart. Fuck. Missed this pussy more than anything else,” he groans. Your pants whisper against his ear as your hands roll into fists against his head. Your arms wrapped around his neck, you rock your hips against his hand desperately. “Come on.”

You moan right into his ear when his wrist flicks up and his fingers plunge deeper into you, wet with the first orgasm he’s wrenched from you just like this. It breaks and your whole body shudders. Your walls tightens around his digits and he increases the speed of his fingers. Your legs trembling, you let out a hoarse cry.

Your voice breaks and your nails dig into the nape of his neck as you come on his fingers. Your thighs clench around him as he bends his finger inside you and you choke out a moan. A pulse travels through your body as he lazily plays with your engorged clit and you twitch with every gentle stroke as he pulls you through your high.

His phone lights up. Ding. Ding. Ding. And then, his ringtone blaring in the thick heat of his room.

You’re sweating against him, resting your whole body on him as you kiss along the cord of his neck and he bites his lip, groaning. You nip along his collarbone before soothing it with your tongue, tasting the alcohol he’s beginning to sweat.

Lazy love.

“She’s not gonna stop fucking calling,” Bucky whispers in defeat, hand stalling inside you and you groan in frustration, hips grinding against his heel. Prompting yourself up, you frown. “Fuck. I have to pick up.” He bites into your breast, licking your nipple in passing before leaning over to grab his phone. Your legs widen, and you lower yourself deeper into his lap as he keeps a hand firmly on your ass.

“For fuck’s sake,” you growl, slipping your hand down his cock and he lets out a groan against your shoulder. His cheek pressed against your joint, he stares at the Caller ID in dread. “She treated you like dirt and you’re still picking up her calls? I think you should just put her in her place.” The venom in your tongue makes something inside him twitch, makes him want to just pin you down and put you in your place because you don’t know shit and Dot isn’t worth my time anyway but instead, he slaps your ass and shifts his legs apart.

“Alright, that’s enough. I’m picking up that call no matter what, sweetheart.”

“Are you serious?”

“Get on your knees.” You pause and he turns to you, a thrill boiling through his blood as he slaps your ass. “Let’s put that mouth to use.” Your eyes go black with lust as you swallow, sinking to the floor between his legs, and he chuckles, spreading his legs farther apart. Your fingers trail along the line of his hips, lips whispering along his thighs as he clears his throat. The phone is still ringing in his hands as he looks down at you and arches an eyebrow. You’re smirking and he grabs one of your curious hands and wraps it firmly around his dick. “Get to work.”

As soon as he’s in your mouth, he picks up. You run your palm down the base of him as you take him in deeper and he lets out a sigh. You’re warm, wet, and he tilts his head back when you swallow. Eyes closing, he lets out a hoarse breath and tries not to give himself away too quickly.

“Bucky?”

“Who is this?” he asks, toying with her, weaving his free hand in your hair. He ups the volume, just enough so you can catch a hint of a word or two over the wet sounds of your mouth.

“It’s your Dotty, Buck.”

Pressing down on his thighs, you angle your head to take him further as if you’re displeased he’s even talking to her at the moment, jealous, even, but he simply grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs you back right, keeping himself just as deep down your throat. You gag, swallowing again.

“Yeah. What do you want?” His words come out breathless. He raises his head just enough to watch you work, eyes glued to the way your fingers, wrapped around him, move up and down. Your eyes are blown out with lust, already on his face and you smile against his thigh as you seem to take him down further. Wet lips wrapped around his cock, hair a mess around your face, it paints a pretty sight. Your tongue flattens against the underside of his length, and he groans when you slowly pull off. It’s an agonizing ecstasy, the way you seem to swallow him deeper despite drawing away. “Oh, fuck. Just like that, sweetheart. That was good, baby, That was good.”

“‘M I being good, daddy?” you ask, voice muffled, and his hips thrust into your mouth just as his hand forces you down, and he closes his eyes at the heat searing his blood. You’re so fucking good.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Don’t worry ‘bout a thing.” He cradles the phone closer to his face. “Fuck. Dot, what do you want again?” he asks. The line is nearly dead and a flash of satisfaction hits him as you moan quietly against his cock. The vibration shoots up to his stomach and he hisses out a breath. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” You bob your head between his thighs, the hand not around him digging into his hip. You hollow out your cheeks, the suction sending his head into the stars as the slick sound of your mouth ceases when you simply keep him in your cheek, blown pupils wide and innocent. Your hips twitch against his foot, seeking friction and he smirks. His needy little girl.

Bucky lets go of your hair, patting your cheek before wiping away the trail of drool leaking from the corner of your mouth. He leans forward, dragging you off his dick with a slight pop and a chill brushes against his length as Bucky pinches your chin between his thumb and index finger.

Pressing an open-mouthed kiss against your panting lips, he doesn’t care if Dot can hear every single fucking sound.

He pulls away before you have a chance to reciprocate and your whine follows him as he sinks back into the couch. His hand finds your hair again, guiding you back down his length and you seem to sink back onto your knees. He plunges endlessly down your throat as he clears his own, nearly forgetting he really is on the phone.

“Sorry, Dot. I’m a little distracted right now,” he says nonchalantly, the smile working onto his face.

“If you’re busy—”

“Nah.” You purr at the lie and he tugs your hair as he stifles a moan—a warning with no merit. He keeps you still despite your impatient wiggle and he opens his eyes, simply admiring your face full of his cock. Your eyes are at half mast as you rest your head against his thigh, and his finger traces down your cheek, along your jawbone, as he adds, “You’ve been blowing up my phone all night. You’ve got my attention now, darling.”

“Bucky,” Dot intones, sounding a bit tense and Bucky can’t help but wonder why, “seriously. It’s fine. You clearly have other company.”

“Oh, don’t worry. My girl over here’s just keeping me warm. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” He moves the phone from his ear to your mouth where he taps your cheek and you let out a soft, garbled moan, eyes fluttering shut. Bringing the phone back to his ear, he chuckles. “You tired, baby? You getting tired?” His tone is mocking and you’re subdued by the way he commands the air as you nod. Your jaw must be aching as you hold onto his thighs and lean against his leg. You’re a sprawled mess against him. “She’s getting tired, Dotty. Make it quick so I can take care of her.”

“Bucky, this isn’t you. What are you doing?” Dot exclaims but he doesn’t care as he lets out a long, guttural groan at your tongue running along his length in your mouth. Still trying to earn his graces.

“Finally getting the time of my life after you left me high and dry for a fucking year. I’m moving on just like how you did during our relationship. How’s the wedding planning? Feeling nervous?” he asks tightly as you swallow, teeth grazing along his skin and he looks down at you. Warning you for real this time. “Watch it, sweetheart.”

“It’s going… okay. Bucky, I… I didn’t want you to be doing this while I talked to you, but please, listen to me. I’m still in love with you.”

You pull off his dick with a long stroke of your tongue and he groans, hand tugging at your hair as you climb up his body. You nip at his skin along the way, your whole body stretching languidly against his as you brace a knee on either side of his hips and sit down in his lap.

“Seriously?” You press kiss after kiss around his face, long fingers wrapped around his cock and rubbing it slowly. Your purr rumbles in your chest as you dip your head to suck a mark into the underside of his jaw and he runs a hand down your back, cupping your ass. “Don’t you think it’s a bit too late right now?”

“You're not giving me any attention, daddy,” you whine with a pout, his dick against your abdomen, just there and he knows you must be aching for it to speak up. Leaning in close, you place your mouth along the cheek where the phone is, trailing tiny little teasing kisses along his swollen lips and flushed cheeks. He tries to snag your lips but you merely pull away and bounce in his lap impatiently. His cock brushes against your stomach, painfully hard, and a groan rips through his throat as you gently settle a hand on his chest.

“I know, baby. Just give daddy a moment, alright?” Bucky murmurs and you pout, your hand pulling at his dick. His hips twitch, jerking into your fist as you lay your head on his chest, slouching against him, kissing his jaw fleetingly. “Be a good girl.”

“Okay,” you mumble as you lazily pump him. Your thumb presses softly against the tip, spreading precum down his shaft and he groans, tipping his head back and closing his eyes again. You smile against his collarbone as you speed up the pace of your hand. A tight-lipped groan in his chest, he runs a hand up and down the curve of your back.

“It’s a mistake. This wedding’s a mistake,” Dot pleads as you watch his expression. He can feel your stare burning into his neck as you press quiet kisses against his chest. A knot tightens in his navel. “I know the way I treated you was shitty, and I know you must’ve moved on, but—”

“Dot, you left me, cheated on me, lied to me about everything.” Bucky bites down on his lower lip. “Fuck. You’re doing so good, sweetheart.” You hum against his chest. The crash is so close and your palm slows down. Growling, he looks up and pins you with a glare, but you merely look at him innocently and he sighs, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “I have moved on. It’s been a year since we broke up and I think it’s time you did, too.” You raise your head off his chest, shifting in his lap as you straddle his hips upright. His eyes follow you like a wolf as he tries to calm down from the high that never came. His hips twitch against your legs and he lets out a growl when you move your hand away.

“Bucky, wait—”

The phone is plucked from his hand and a protest builds up in his throat as you rest your other hand on his shoulder. He looks up at you, lips parted and you smile, sickly sweet. In the dim light of his room, he sees the way the shadows play dangerously on your face. His hand on your back slides to your hip, and his lips find your left nipple as he sinks his other hand into the flesh of your ass.

“Dot?” you ask sweetly as if you’ve no awareness at all, but by the way your eyes flutter, you’re well aware of his mischief. “Hey. Jamie’s a bit busy at the moment. Can you call him tomorrow?” Your smile sits on your face as it turns smug. “Great. Bye!” You hang up and toss the phone onto the coffee stand before cupping his face and kissing him fiercely. It bruises his mouth, sloppy open-mouthed kisses, and he groans as you raise your hips and slide him right in like their bodies were made for each other. His vision explodes in stars as you sink, his cock buried deep inside you.

“Fuck was that?” he mumbles when you part from him for a moment to breathe. Your hips slowly swing against his, taking him in deeper with every move as your hands, still cradling his face, burn through his cheeks. His hands run up and down your sides, your front, and you sigh at the rough palms against your sensitive nipples before he hoists you up more comfortably on his lap. “Jamie? I’m not fucking five.” He thrusts up with his question and your breath hitches.

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry..” Your lip caught between your teeth, you rock against him faster and his hips lift to meet your thrusts as you tilt your head back. You arch against him, eyes squeezed shut and he pushes your body forward, teeth running over your breasts. “Fuck, James.”

“Bad girl, hm.” His eyes close and your fingers run through his hair, hug his head to your chest. Your moans are a symphony in his ear and you bounce in his lap, knees digging into the cushions.

“Yes, daddy,” you whine into his ear, gasping and the way your every word becomes high-pitched makes him want to fuck you through the couch. You're complete putty in his hands, warm like fire and malleable to his touch, and he kisses the valley of your breasts, his hands tracing the curve of your spine. “I’ve been so, so bad.”

He digs his fingers into your skin and twists, letting you fall onto the couch as he slides his palms down to grab your legs. Everything he touches is wet, burning, and the squelch of your pussy around his cock sends him into overdrive as he puts your legs up on his shoulders. Your eyes are squeezed shut and your mouth is open in a silent moan when he thrusts deeply into you at this new angle. Your hands find his and fingers interlace as he pins your wrists to the armrests above your head.

Smirking, he pushes deeper into you with no grace or rhythm and you thrash against him, mewling at his slowing pace, begging to go faster with the way your wriggle your hips back against him. “Daddy, I—”

“Shh, sweetheart. Now that I’m not busy anymore, I think daddy’s gonna have to teach you a lesson.” Your eyes barely open at his words and he smirks, making sure your attention doesn’t stray for a moment. “Keep those eyes on me, sweetheart.” You bite down on your lip, trying to stem desperate gasps but he growls a warning as he speeds up to a punishing pace. You’re overstimulated, exhausted, but still you try to push back against him, try to get him as deep as he can get.

You’re so eager to please with those plush, pink lips. “Yes, daddy. I’m sorry, I’ve been bad.”

“Sorry for what?” he wonders aloud just as your eyes squeeze shut and he feels your peak in the way your abdomen goes taut. Slowing down again, he nearly laughs at your disappointed whines. He pulls out completely, waiting for an answer and you cry out at the loss of fulfillment. Your legs lock around his neck. “I’m waiting.”

“Daddy, please... please, I was so close.”

“Give me an answer.” His tip brushes against your heat and you shove your hips forward. “How’re you gonna apologize when you don’t even know what for? How’m I gonna fix it?”

“Please...”

“I’m waiting, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen, daddy.”

He slowly pushes in again and your mouth drops open in an oh as you welcome him easily. You’re so damn wet that he slides in all the way he can with no problem. You lift your hips, heels digging into his back, and he slowly begins to thrust into you again. The sound of his hips meeting yours punishingly, the wet slap of skin against skin is the only sound in the room besides your panting breaths.

Bucky smiles.

“I’m gonna teach you a lesson not to talk out of turn tonight, understood? G’na teach you that when daddy’s on the phone, when daddy’s busy with other things, you behave if you wanna stay around,” he whispers, voice darkening with every word and your breasts heave as he runs a hand down your body. Fingers sneaking between their bodies, he presses a thumb against your clit and you fall apart with a shameless moan that bursts from your heaving chest.

Bucky wonders how he ever moved past you. You with makeup streaking down your pretty pouty face.

He didn’t. He never did.

“Oh, god,” you groan, dreadfully broken, still trying to recover but Bucky’s not finished with you yet. No, he’s going to make up for lost time for the rest of his life he can. “Fuck… James. Oh, god.” Your walls clench around him, dragging at his cock as he pauses inside you and he lets go of your wrists. Your legs slip off his shoulders.

“You miss me, sweetheart?” he murmurs, nuzzling your cheek and you pant, nodding weakly. He turns to ensnare you into a heavy, tongue-filled kiss as he sucks on your bottom lip. “Miss me a lot?”

“Yes, daddy,” you mumble, voice warped by his incessant kisses and he smiles, ravishing your mouth with his teeth and tongue. He gives you this small moment because it’s going to be a rough night and he wants to savour every last bit of it. By morning, he won’t hear a single peep out of you with how much your throat burns from screaming his name.

That’s three for him, zero for you, and Bucky’s not sure if it’ll end when morning comes.

He wants to ask if you’ll stay and he has a lot of furniture he needs to break in.

The kitchen counter looks like a wonderful place to start to do both.

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steve0discusses · 3 years

Text

S5 Ep12: Brand New Mokuba Just Dropped

My tumblr has decided that it can’t save drafts again. Which sure is a problem I keep having but no one else seems to have...but were back. Back and ready to talk about cards.

First off, lets address the best thing about this episode, it’s the return of The A Team animation team! Dunno if it’s the same ones that did the seasons before, but it is a pretty good team this episode, so there’s lots of that to look forward to. Everyone is now 2 feet taller (Kaiba is 4 feet taller) and there’s just some really nice shots going on. It’s not as shiny as other seasons, which makes me think it might be a different team or a different studio using a different method (you don’t really see them playing with line weights anymore which makes it seem like a different method to me) but still--it’s a nicer looking episode today.

So we start off this episode with Seto begging us all to forget the hell that just happened and just get on with it. Of course, no one’s gonna do that, because yo, what just happened was kind of weird.

And because there’s only like...I dunno...maybe 2 episodes left in this arc? (kind of a quick arc, honestly) Leon decides to do a complete personality reversal. Although, it’s really hard to do a reversal when you didn’t have a personality in the first place...so I guess this more Leon showing us A personality--and I’ll take it.

He’s a little jackass now, but it’s youknow...still Leon so it’s not really that bad. Like we deal with Seto on the reg, so I feel like Leon as a jackass is just like...well that’s just how you play cards in this universe.

Everyone speculates whether or not Seto actually did a crime, and a SURPRISING number of them said he did not! Weird! But hey...I’ve gone over a billion times before, their memory is like when you throw popcorn into the ocean--it just fffzt’s and then it’s gone.

Roland was THIS close to actually saving Kaiba corp a huge hassle for once. This Close, Roland. You almost did it.

(read more under the cut)

I love that Roland has decided to give all these teens maybe the uncoolest nicknames in the entire world, and the teens have not made any indication whether they do or do not appreciate their alliteration nicknames.

But despite the fact that although Roland uses these opportunities behind the microphone to embarrass them just SO MUCH, the Kaibas still persist in having him introduce most of the matches. It makes it feel like the Kaibas freakin love this. They love his Dad jokes. I cannot tell if they are like “yes, please embarrass my friends.” of it they’re like “yes. Roland that was so cool. Yeah Leaping Leon. Good one! You’re so cool!” Because they don’t know what fun is.

Also, look what I see in the sky.

Truly a sign that they have overcome their trauma of seasons 2-3.

Or maybe they had a lot of blimps laying around and this is a completely unrelated blimp? Either way, I’m glad they can still handle the sight of a blimp.

And then, just out of nowhere, Mokuba hit puberty.

Which I mean, it was inevitable. It was going to happen some day. Luckily, we will be getting a new Mokuba this episode to make up for the fact that this one has done A Flirt and it was probably a completely innocent turn of phrase he has no idea is a double entendre but do the writers know that?

And while we ruminate the decisions there, lets bask in the glory of purple staircase.

This is such a purple staircase!

On another, identical staircase walks Leon, who gets to have a discussion with Zigfried, who probably just stood next to the wall and just chameleon’ed in here without getting caught cuz coincidentally this staircase dresses like him.

Freakin Mai?

Anyway, lets start this duel where like...I dunno, it’s a little late to start stealing souls, but maybe Leon will do a stab? (He will not)

So glad the storyboarder is back to kind of flex. I don’t normally see Roland drawn with this much attention. Look at him go. That’s the stance a grown man takes when he’s ready to embarrass a bunch of teens.

Kaiba writes a speech introducing himself, or Roland just kinda made up a speech as if Kaiba hadn’t asked him to do that. Either way it’s kind of a big way to talk yourself up--but he is trying to talk up the theme park so people will actually like...go. So it makes sense.

Also what is this nonsense where people worldwide are watching a theme park opening match? Card culture is so weird because we’ve noticed in other seasons there are people that don’t play cards, and I feel like they’re not watching this for fun. It’s like when I watch news unfold--they’re watching to see if they have to raid the toilet paper aisle and the canned goods again to prepare for yet another onslaught of card nonsense.

Legit Mokuba was like “Look at my bro. Look at how he gave up dueling to throw this nice tourney for everyone!” and it’s like...Mokuba...he just dueled...Mokuba...he’s putting all the profits directly in your pockets this is hardly a martyr up here.

Seto Kaiba decided to inform the world that he would have won if he was actually playing and that was sure a statement he made after losing to Yugi like...3 times now? Several times.

Everyone else converses how Leon’s acting weird. I don’t know why they care all of a sudden, because no one acts normal playing this game, but the plot desires them to care.

Which is when we find out...

...the new Mokuba...

That’s right. He was a Mokuba the whole time. For once we haven’t abducted Mokuba, instead...we have too many Mokubas.

This Mokuba even has hella long hair, too. I imagine if Mokuba proper had a ponytail it would probably look just like this but black. It would have been just--so good if he whipped off that ribbon and shook out his hair and it fluffed into a horrible Mokuba mess, but you know, that’s one of the many reasons why I don’t write for this series. That and I was like in high School when this came out.

(Please admire Kaiba’s head of Security who looks like he’s about to drop a poop out of terror. It’s a really small detail, but I appreciate that the storyboarder had him kind of antsy in the background)

Seto insists that the only one to beat Yugi Muto will be himself and it’s like...I know. That’s why I keep expecting someone to get stabbed by this tiny purple haired Mokuba. But instead, Leon’s too busy feeling mad that he’s not necessarily playing the game for fun.

But he’s still playing the game though? so I feel like Yami doesn’t have many stones to throw here. Leon hasn’t even cheated yet. (As if Yami isn’t cheating basically all the time by being 2 people in one body)

I can’t BELIEVE this show would throw that at me after the number of times I have seen Yami Muto nearly murder other people (and sometimes literally do a murder) out of revenge. Yami is basically a revenge god...like...show...what? It’s season 5, I thought we’ve basically cemented this in. Occasionally the show will just be all “card games are supposed to be fun though!!!” and it’s like...these are the last children on Earth who are playing card games for fun.

If anything, it should be Leon lecturing them on how to have fun. They just murdered a Great Leviathan with cards. Before that they were dealing with Noah, with Marik, with Pegasus, with Bakura. The times that Yugi has just played a game for fun has been...This Arc.

So maybe Yami is just begging himself to have fun for once. Maybe he’s just mad that he can’t play a single tournament without someone getting possessed? Maybe his frustrations really aren’t about little Leaping Leon, and more to do with Yami sick and tired of being a protagonist.

But, youknow, it’s not an anime, unless the protagonist hypocritically can get away with every sin out there and everyone else gets punished for it. So lets find out just how far Leon fell from fun-having grace with a flashback.

This Belle cosplayer went off in like...one of the most hilariously bad accents I’ve heard in a while, it was just so much, I’ll probably cap it because lolol.

But since Leon wasn’t actually in line to inherit the company, he has to sort of hole up in his room for his entire childhood. It’s kinda weird, since we can’t assume that Zigfried will either a.) live forever or b.) have or adopt or raise children in any capacity. But they’re pretty sure Zigfried will live forever, and in this universe--maybe.

Also, I’m really not sure why they have to dress like it’s 1890, but they sure are. The Victorian era just never left the Von Schroeder house. Like these women are wearing corsets to be in that dress, and you can’t BUY a corset to match this type of dress, you have to make your own, and I know, because in Quarantine, I got really into historical sewing videos.

I can’t believe I spent an entire year watching historical sewing videos. Holy crap. I don’t even sew.

But then again...Seto is kind of drawn like he wears a corset...so maybe people are still wearing them in the Yugioh universe? Maybe that’s how their fashion just works?

Guys...I analyze Yugioh fashion a lot but the fact that the Edwardians never freakin left this worldly plane is just...that’s canon to Yugioh. I really just want to sit back and analyze Yugioh fashion with a moodboard and try to connect all the dots logically as if they aren’t just one-off jokes, but I don’t know how I’d fit that on this post.

And like, one of y’all brought up in a comment in the last post that what’s neat about this arc is we are seeing Zigfried as what Seto would have been like if he hadn’t like...gotten cursed by Yugi Muto. So, going off that idea, I think it’s kinda fun that Zigfried’s outfit is a bit of a younger take on Pegasus’ whole look with the wrist lace and a fusion of Gozaburos look of wearing a cravat with a smoking coat. It’s fun to imagine that this is what Seto’s inner gremlin dresses like (which...now I think about it...was a thing from S1 where Yami defeated a Seto gremlin but...I don't remember much about it) Of course, Seto would also be hella dead if he hadn’t gone through the Yugi cycle, but it’s still a fun road to think about.

Plus, when we go down that road, it really makes this arc look even more like it’s just about Seto Kaiba’s therapy sesh to recover from the last several seasons that he’s accidentally (or intentionally??) invited the entire world to watch and that’s very funny to me.

Bro has informed me you can make a deck out of Jerry but could not show me any receipts.

...I mean that is Dartz right?

Like I know all the characters have cards of themselves IRL and all the characters are also based on cards that were made before they were on TV (with the exception of our main cast that was...youknow, a horror manga) but like...

...what’s up, Dartz?

Anyway, our little Mokuba decides to sneak out the house and run around the world at the ripe ol age of ... what I’m guessing is like 10-12, and is pretty sure he can just get away with that. Luckily, the crimes he’s committing are exactly the type of crimes that Zigfried needs.

(Pretty sure their Dad died or is incapacitated but OK, dub, go ahead and pretend that plot point didn’t go down last episode.)

Also, I’m really glad we got a good storyboarder for this part who was like “Zigfried looks...like that?” and still managed to make this character design really work this episode. In some parts they even gave Zigfried those wide Marik Eyes that are kind of ubiquitous with Yugioh. It just needs the right hands to draw it, and then any amount of...this outfit...can work.

So, just like when we met Mokuba in S1, he’s gonna do a duel on Yugi to save his family and probably also like Mokuba, not give a damn for how this game is supposed to be played. Luckily, this time Pharaoh doesn’t have any star chips lying around for this kid to just run around and steal before booking it out the back gate.

Yugi over there with his twitter-brand hot-takes, not knowing the difference between actual brainwashing and blackmail/family pressure.

(WHY IS MAI HERE?)

Look at that hatching!

Ah this is the 00′s content I’m here for! Check out the soft brush! The dodge and burn! Ah! Man this sure was an era of computer art! and stuff like this cost a lot of money to make and it looked ... like this!

Now I’m pretty sure we can make art that looks this dated on like...a free phone app.

PS please do not ever shade your art like this. This is what you don’t do. Do not do this. I will shed a single tear shaped like the Photoshop symbols for dodge and burn.

Also...guys...

next episode is Ep 13. Every season so far this show has been like “we’re normal, everything is normal” getting us complacent until exactly Ep 13, when everything gets really effed up. So...

will that happen? Will they continue this tradition into S5 or has it been a coincidence until now? Excited to find out.

Anyway, if you just got here, this is the link to read these from the beginning in chrono order:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

#ygo #yugioh #yu gi oh #S5 #Ep12 #yugi muto #leon von schroeder #good because I forgot his other last name #zigfried von schroeder #seto kaiba #mokuba kaiba #roland #joey wheeler #tea gardner #the others who didn't say or do anything so I probably shouldn't tag them #Can't believe how quickly this arc is wrapping up

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ichorruns · 3 years

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( golshifteh farahani, cisgender female, she / her ) the city of gods is proud to welcome hel. she appears to be thirty eight years old and is the goddess of death from norse mythology. hel can be found working as the proprietor at a hole in the wall vintage shop and is amused by the death of zeus. (written by saint, twenty, they / them, cst.)

GENERAL INFORMATION . . .

name : hel

alias(es) : helena

title : norse goddess of death

apparent age : thirty-eight

pronouns : she/her

sexuality : bisexual

relationship status : single

occupation : owner of lost & found, a hole in the wall vintage store

traits : aloof, sarcastic, cynical, genuine, good-hearted, introverted, well-spoken, clever.

BEFORE . . .

downward and northward. hel, for all her stubborn determination, cannot recall exactly what came before niflheim. logically — that is, in her logic —there must have been something! some sort of before bit prior to her responsibility over the dead of the nine worlds. she simply couldn’t fathom a reality in which there was nothing and then there was niflheim.

and yet . . . niflheim is all she can remember. she can remember — if she focuses ever so carefully — the orders given to her. board and lodging. board and lodging to the old and the sick and the unremarkable sent to her dominion. the orders were the first of her many, many memories, and so she took them to heart.

hel tried to taking special care of those sent to her; offered them board and lodging and, at first, care and compassion. however, the souls sent to her did not take so kindly to the death which she embodied, mournful and eternally regretting valhalla, which they had not earned.

hel one day found herself grown cold and detached from the souls which she ruled over — for loving those who could scarcely spare her a passing thought wore down on her spirits. there was one, however, amidst the many, who offered her a bit of solace. baldr — beauty incarnate in the weary eyes of hel. he offered her kindness, a treatment the other souls of niflheim had refused her. she could understand why the living loved him so, and almost — just almost — considered releasing him from the underworld at frigg’s pleas. it was not right to keep someone so beloved from those who loved him! . . . but hel had grown selfish and fond of the man, and would only release him if every single being — alive and dead — wept for the man’s death. when they did not, and baldr was to remain at her side for eternity, she did not feel her deserved happiness . . . she only felt . . . guilt: gnawing and numbing and all encompassing.

AFTER . . .

hel was less than impressed when knowledge of the city of gods reached her. what was a city compared to nine worlds? she had grown proud in her cynicism, and yet, with each passing day, she found that city — new crete, was it? — making it’s way into her thoughts more and more often.

she cannot remember what spurred the move, only that: one day there was niflheim, and the next there was new crete. in new crete she could start anew.

lost & found began as merely a way to pass time, a side gig while she discovered what wonders new crete could offer. but her side gig became her main gig, and lost & found has stood proud as a local favorite “hole in the wall” vintage shop.

still, hel kept to herself as she navigated the ever-growing city. when news of zeus’s death reached her doorstep, the goddess had a hard time hiding her amusement. the pompous bastard deserved it. perhaps, one day, the implications of the god’s death would dawn on the goddess, but for now . . .

POWERS . . .

hel, despite the rather large domain under her command, is not as powerful as many of the other god’s inhabiting new crete.

I . her most notable power is that of necromancy. as goddess of the underworld, she has complete control of the souls within her domain. should she will it, she can release a soul from niflheim to return and walk amongst the living once more. this process does, however, take a great toll on hel’s human form — both mentally, and physically. it is not something done often — or for free.

II . it is a grim gift — if one could even call it that — but hel can sense when death is near. she cannot determine the cause or exact time, but she can feel it’s proximity in her bones and who it comes for. furthermore, her touch can ease the pain of passing. since coming to crete, she has made it a point to assist any passing she may come across.

III . hel can also, as her domain resides over the nine worlds, understand and speak any spoken, written, or otherwise communicated language. if utilized for prolonged periods of time, it can leave hel with a nasty, thrumming migraine that only rest ( and laying off the powers ) can solve.

IV . in a more general sense, hel is not as powerful in new crete as she is in niflheim. many of her powers do not extend to this realm, left behind in the halls of her many mansions. the price of her staying in new crete is that, more often than deemed “normal”, she finds her human form falling victim to illness or fatigue. any extraneous use of her powers only aggravates this.

MISCELLANEOUS FACTS & TID - BITS . . .

I . my portrayal of hel is not an evil one ! instead of playing into any true evil archetypes, i’d say she’s more of a morally grey character — withdrawn, cold, and sometimes’s self serving, but fiercely loyal to those who have proven themself a friend. once you break through her icy exterior, she’s good company to have around — honest.

II . hel does not remember her family, nor does she remember the brief part of her childhood spent in jötunheimer. she does, however, remember what brief glimpse of odin she got before being exiled beneath the roots of yggdrasil to niflheim. she does not assume him family, but does feel a strange kinship for him. this fact shames her, considering it was his command that banished her to niflheim.

III . hel has an alias — a secret identity, if you will — for when she she interacts with mortals, or simply doesn’t want to be perceived as hel. the name helena struck her fancy — similar enough that it was still her, yet different enough that, when she so desired a break from hel, she could take one. she mainly uses it when interacting with mortals ignorant of the goings-on of new crete, or those outside new crete entirely.

ADMIN NOTE . . .

as of now, i don’t have anything else to say beyond the contents of this post are subject to change as i portray and get to know hel through interactions! . . . that being said, feel free to hit me up if you want to plot or develop connections! i’m so excited to start getting to know her, and getting to know y’all and you’re lovely muses!

#“ . . . HEL | introduction.#neonintro #[ ah fak this ended up being so much longer than i intended ]#[ i got hit w the tired at the end so if it suddenly sucks at the end just like. don't pay attention to that <3 ]

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cakesunflower · 5 years

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Liability [Peaky Blinders!Calum AU] Part 1

Liability—A person or thing whose presence or behavior is likely to put one at a disadvantage.

Summary: Being the daughter of the Police Captain meant Karina Garner should’ve kept her distance from Calum Hood, the notorious leader of the Peaky Blinders. It certainly didn’t mean she should agree to work for him, especially when Calum had underlying motives up his sleeves.

A/N: this is part 1 of my Calum AU that’s based around the tv show Peaky Blinders! if you haven’t watched it, it’s basically a show about a gang in 1920′s Birmingham led by the ever-so-fearsome Tommy Shelby--who, in this fic, is replaced by Calum, obviously.

it’s important for y’all to remember this fic is based in the early to mid 1920′s, so some dialogue or exposition or plot points might seem a bit strange or different than what you’re used to reading from me but remember--this is a different time period! keep that in mind, and happy reading!!

Liability—A person or thing whose presence or behavior is likely to put one at a disadvantage.

Part 1

Waking up in her childhood bedroom had been disorienting, not entirely remembering what she was doing there. But then the exhaustion she’d fallen asleep in caught up and Karina remembered her long journey back to Birmingham. She recalled the reason why she moved back and let out a tired, defeated sigh. Her return to her hometown wasn’t under the happiest of circumstances, but she wasn’t as heartbroken as one would expect. She was a grieving friend, maybe, but nowhere near a grieving widow. Never had Karina wanted to become someone who married just for the sake of being married, but that’s how life turned out, that’s what was expected from them. Archie, a wealthy investment banker from New York, had taken an interest in her; her family had approved, and that was that. Honestly if Karina truly hadn’t wanted to marry him, she could’ve protested and her parents would’ve listened. But Archie had been nice enough, handsome and rich and a way out of Birmingham.

Until none of that was worth it. Until he was gone.

Too many mistresses and refusing to let her work were suffered through for two years too long. When she didn’t want to give him a child when he was ready, things had taken a turn for the worse for their already deteriorating marriage, a mismatch made in hell with a constantly fueled fire. Then Archie fell sick, like he was dying from the inside, until he took his last breath, giving Karina a way out of an unhappy marriage and the money he left behind for her.

A bit tactless for her to think, and even a bit cruel, but he’d spent nearly their entire marriage treating her less than she—or anyone—deserved and Karina was not about to spend her time grieving over a man who viewed her as property to be invested in.

“Morning, love,” her mother greeted as she entered the kitchen, robe tied around her as she joined her dad and brother at the table. “Egg and toast?”

Karina sleepily hummed her agreement before pouring herself some tea. “How did you sleep?” her father asked, already dressed in his captain’s uniform, finishing off toast lathered in jam.

“Brilliant,” Karina answered truthfully, recalling how her eyes shut the second her head hit the pillow. Looking at Sean, she asked, “Don’t you have work?”

Her twenty-one year old brother scrunched his face in annoyance. “I’ll go when I’m bloody done eatin’,” he spoke through a mouthful of eggs, prompting Karina to twist her own expression in disgust. Once he swallowed the bite, he said, “Everyone wants to go out for drinks tonight to welcome you back.”

Karina lowered the cup after swallowing her of tea, a wry smile on her lips. “You mean to drown me in alcohol so I’m not too heartbroken over Archie’s death and the fact that I’m a widow.”

Her mum clicked her tongue, placing Karina’s breakfast in front of her. “His passing is sad—you can pretend to be grieving. Plus, you’re twenty-four, love. You’ll find someone who truly deserves you. He’s out there, by God’s grace,” she added, her slight rough Irish accent something Karina missed.

But she shrugged, almost sadly at the loss of Archie and the thought of her marriage coming apart so quickly before his death, despite being glad not being stuck in something that didn’t make her happy. She wasn’t heartless; she spent two years of her life with that man, and while most of them weren’t happy moments, he’d still been a constant in her life. For all his faults, he didn’t deserve to die, but Karina wasn’t going to pretend she’d lost the love of her life, when she definitely had not. Still—no doubt her mum’s friends would talk, and while Karina liked to think she didn’t care what people said about her, she could only pretend so much.

Her dad cleared his throat before pointing at her. “Listen to your mum. We’ll shift your things to the flat tomorrow. I best be off.”

Karina looked at him with jade colored eyes, raising her eyebrows. She was staying at her family home just upon her arrival, but Karina had a flat that was a fifteen minute walk from the home that she was ready to move into. She’d lived in it for a year before her marriage, almost as a way of preparing herself for independence despite her family being so close. It was unfortunate she barely got a taste of it when she moved to America and was told to only adhere to Archie’s demands. “You’re leaving already?”

The police captain scoffed, picking up his hat. “Crime never rests—especially if it’s the Peaky Blinders.”

He left a few moments later, the front door slamming sounding his exit, and Karina looked at her mum and Sean and frowned. “The Blinders still give him trouble?”

Mrs. Garner sat to Karina’s right, letting out a breath as she prepared her tea. “Honestly, I think it’s the other bloody way around most of the time.” A disapproving expression matched her tone. “Likes to press on them when they’re not even outwardly doin’ anything.”

Sean scoffed as Karina listened with interest. “He’s lucky Calum Hood doesn’t condone killin’ coppers or else Dad would be dead ten times over by now. The Blinders are dangerous as ever and fucking terrifying but they protect us just as much as the coppers. Dad just doesn’t like sharing the glory.”

Their mum clicked her tongue. “Sean.”

Karina let out a breath, raising her eyebrows at her little brother. “You sound like a fan,” she pointed out, to which he only shrugged, and Karina found her thoughts suddenly consisting of the Peaky Blinders.

More importantly, Calum Hood—a name she knew and a face she hadn’t seen in a few years. He was the leader of the Peaky Blinders, founding the gang after returning from the war, and expanding their business and notoriety within a matter of months. A household name, not one to ever be fucked with unless someone wanted their eyes or tongues cut. They weren’t quiet about their dealings, were proud of their work, and had the entire town’s fear and respect in the palms of their hands—especially Calum. Always walked around as people moved out of his way, with the razor blade glinting in his cap, cigarette between his lips, and ring clad fingers ready to throw punches if need be.

The town also had the Blinders’ promised protection, which made work for the coppers harder, since no one would dare go against the Calum Hood and the Blinders. No one wanted to bite the hand that was feeding them.

Karina knew of Calum; had gone to school with him when they were children until he dropped out later in the years to help his family, and then she’d only see him around town. Then he had left for the war, and just a little while after his return as a war hero, Karina left for America. She knew the Peaky Blinders started around the time she had left, but her family never mentioned him in any of their letters—why would they?—and Karina never really thought about the dark haired man who was, more or less, making her father’s life a hell.

She wasn’t going to lie; she’d definitely felt a shiver creep down her back when her brother so airily mentioned her father escaping death just because Calum Hood said so. It made her wonder just how powerful her old school mate had gotten over the years. How the mere mention of his name made most men she knew quiver in their shoes and run the other way. How the quiet boy with the full cheeks she used to see in the classroom had grown to be an illegal activities dealing, killer gangster. It all sounded almost surreal, but Karina guessed there was a fine line between delirium and reality.

After breakfast and drawing a bath, she changed into a simple outfit of a white button down blouse tucked into a long maroon skirt before spending the day with her mother. They had lunch, ran some errands, and then Karina joined her mum and her friends for some late afternoon tea.

“So, you poor thing, what are you going to do now?”

Karina pursed her lips as she swallowed her sip of tea, forcing the smile to remain on her face. She may love her mum, but Karina should learn to say no to tea with her friends. The old birds always had something to say, and now that Karina was back after losing a husband, she wasn’t surprised they wanted to gossip about her, clearly having no respect for the loss of a life.

“You don’t have to poor thing me,” Karina assured with a sweet smile, light brown hair framing her pretty face. “I’m perfectly alright. Might find me-self a job.”

“Karina’s very fast with numbers,” her mum piped in with a proud smile. “She can land a job at one of the banks.”

Karina smiled, grateful for her mum’s support. She knew her mum felt guilty for what happened, for even letting her daughter marry a man who made her live a life less happy than what she deserved, even though Karina had agreed to the marriage in the first place. She didn’t blame her parents; it was life. Sometimes it was shit, and though her husband might be dead and she mourned the loss of a life, she didn’t mourn the loss of a husband—no matter how much of a bitch that may make her sound.

“A job?” one of the women, Mrs. Nelson, guffawed. “You should find another husband, not a job.” She laughed, looking to the other laugh women. “The only work a woman should be doin’ is housework and raisin’ kids.”

The other women chuckled and murmured in agreement and Karina exchanged a flat, unimpressed look at her mother. She wasn’t all too surprised at the women’s way of thinking; they were all housewives, did nothing but cook and clean and raise their children. Not that there was anything wrong with that—Karina just didn’t want only that to be all she did in life. She wanted a little more, something less mundane. Something that gave her a purpose.

Honestly, Karina wasn’t sure how she survived the day with her mum’s friends, the women doing nothing but boasting about their children and grandchildren. The amount of cigarette breaks Karina took weren’t enough to keep her sane.

But then the night fell and it was time to head out for drinks with her friends. Karina put on one of her finer dresses, ruby in color and flattering, and she was looking forward to seeing everyone. It wasn’t until they were approaching the familiar pub that Karina shot her brother a look. “Should we even be here?” she questioned suspiciously. “If we don’t die in there then dad will surely kill us.”

Sean snickered, tossing the cigarette butt as the gravel crunched beneath their feet, the iron and coal scent of the factories around them digging into Karina’s nose as they approached the Garrison. “Sheffer’s is closed for renovation—Garrison’s the nearest pub, Karina. Besides, nothin’s gonna happen to us. Been here loads of times,” Sean reassured, holding the door open for Karina as she almost reluctantly walked in, following the few friends they were with, eyes flickering about to take in her surroundings almost cautiously.

Karina was hesitant upon entering the bar, knowing that it was the one owned by the Peaky Blinders themselves, buying it out after the gang gained their rightful notoriety. It’s where their men spent their time when they weren’t working, along with the factory laborers, and Karina knew from her brother that this was where Calum Hood often was as well, if he wasn’t out conducting Blinder business. Karina couldn’t help but think it was a risk coming here, being the daughter of the police captain, but she trusted her brother. If he said they’d be fine, she would believe it until they weren’t.

It looked newer than she remembered; a shining gold theme lining the walls and bar tops, circular tables in the middle with high red cushioned stools while booths lined up the walls as well, matching cushioned seats for those as well. The warmth in the pub was a pleasant welcome in exchange of the cold night of Birmingham outside, the air heavy with the familiar and ever present scent of tobacco, a deep breath escaping Karina at the loudness she was suddenly surrounded by. Men and women busied up the pub, and the live band playing upbeat music on a higher up platform on the back left of the room was a nice surprise to Karina. Last time she remembered, the Garrison wasn’t nearly as done up as it was now. The Blinders—Calum—had truly put in the work for a makeover.

The Garrison had never been much to look at, but things had obviously changed upon the Blinders’ acquiring of it.

Karina admired her surroundings, briefly oblivious to the few stares she—not the people she was with—was receiving upon her arrival. One of the first things she noticed was how the pub consisted of both men and women, when at a time, it was only the men who worked in the factories that would drop a few pounds at the Garrison. Though now, the patrons look almost as classy as the pub. But as her gaze happened to wash over a few of the customers, Karina noticed the stares. Noticed the few double takes and curious looks that were suddenly accompanied by whispered conversations, menacing over the music playing. No doubt they were all privy to the reason of her return to Small Heath, maybe they were even questioning why the daughter of the police captain was in a known Peaky Blinders establishment, even if she was with her brother who apparently frequented this place.

Though, he was a man. Double standards often ran high in a town as small as the name it was given.

Neck tensing, Karina tried to ignore the looks, instead following her company to an open table while Sean and Joseph went to the bar to get drinks. Karina hopped on a stool, the soft material of her dress flowing against her legs as she pulled out her pack of cigarettes and a lighter. The first inhale managed to relax her, hoping those staring would realize there wasn’t much to look at and go back to minding their own business. Honestly, Karina didn’t care much if they talked—that’s all what people liked to do—but it was the staring. It prickled at her skin, as if their gazes drove needles into her nerves and paralyzed her, forced her to notice every single look she was receiving.

“Pay no attention to them.” Karina blew out a delicate puff of smoke at her best friend Joyce’s words. The brunette shook a curly lock of hair from her face, fingers gripping her own cigarette as she kept her gaze on Karina. “Just focus on enjoying the night, hmm?”

Karina raised an eyebrow, chuckling wryly under the sound of her friends chattering, noticing Sean and Joseph returning with the drinks. “You mean enjoy the night commemorating the loss of my husband?”

It was awful and heartless, Karina knew, to be doing this. She only justified it by claiming that she wasn’t celebrating Archie’s death. She was just grateful to be out of a relationship that lacked any ounce of love and respect. No harm in celebrating that, was there?

Joyce rolled her eyes, tapping the cigarette over the ashtray on the center of the table. There was a hint of a red circle lining her cigarette where her lipstick touched, Karina’s cigarette the same. “I mean enjoy the night commemorating your escape from an unfit marriage,” Joyce corrected, practically reading Karina’s thoughts.

The shot glasses were filled to the brim, and the smile on Karina’s face was genuine and easy as she and her friends lifted their glasses, clinked them together to cheers and even spilled some onto the table, before drinking their glasses dry. The vodka burned Karina’s throat gloriously, lips upturned and eyes screwing shut briefly as the drink sizzled down and settled in the pit of her stomach.

She enjoyed the company of her friends—friends she hadn’t seen in too long and had been left to only writing to them—with their two tables being littered with glasses and ashtrays filling up with the cigarettes being smoked. For the first time in a while, Karina genuinely enjoyed the people she was with, never having gotten used to being around Archie’s American friends who swam in money and childishly poked fun at her accent when they’d had too many illegal drinks in the safety of their homes. Her life in America, though one with money, had been unfulfilling. Archie’s death, though it was sad, offered Karina the opportunity to go back to her old life in Birmingham with the people she knew—and with Archie’s money as his widow.

Still, Karina recalled her conversation with her mother and her friends earlier that day; she may have Archie’s money, but she also wanted a purpose. Sitting around at home with nothing to do sounded just as mind-numbing as attending one of Archie’s friends’ dinners. Some kind of excitement in her life may do Karina some good—though finding it in Small Heath, that seemed like asking for a favor too big for the small town to deliver.

Eventually, Karina excused herself from her friends and wandered towards the bar, ignoring the few eyes that still lingered on her as she went. She paid for her drink, pausing at the bar to take a sip before she made a move to go back to her friends. She sipped, eyeing the various bottles sat on the shelves, remembering how the only way she’d been able to have a taste of alcohol in America was through private events where Archie and his friends somehow got their hands on alcohol that was banned across the country, the Prohibition Act that weighed upon the citizens having a tight grip on all alcohol.

So Karina savored her drink, allowing herself to lean her hip against the bar as she enjoyed it, only to regret the decision when a man taller and older than her, probably mid-thirties, came to stand to her right at the bar. He faced her, and Karina hated that she could actually feel his eyes drink in the sight of her, his stare unwarranted and unwelcome. Whatever was about to happen in the next few minutes, she was sure to not like.

“A lovely lady like yourself shouldn’t be drinking alone. Especially here, being the Police Captain’s daughter and all.” Karina tried not to roll her eyes at the man’s words, though she failed to ignore the way her skin crawled under his prickling gaze. Honestly, one would think being the captain’s only daughter would keep unwanted eyes away from her, and most of the time it worked. However, there were always the few courageous lads that tried their hand in hoping to impress her, especially at pubs, especially when they were older than her. They failed more often than not.

Karina put down her glass, the whiskey running smoothly down her throat as she raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the nameless stranger. If he knew who her father was, then he surely had to know of her only recent single status; did he truly believe Karina was wholly willing to entertain some random man at a pub after the death of her husband? Not that she was a grieving widow or anything—no more so than she pretended she had to be so she didn’t appear completely heartless. A tricky slope to live on, but Karina had never entirely been one to care much for what others thought, even in her compact community of Small Heath.

“But I’m not alone,” she responded innocently, offering a close mouthed smile as she rested her hip against the bar, raising an eyebrow at the man. “My friends and brother are right there. So your charming company isn’t required.”

The mocking sarcasm in her tone was quite heavy and Karina watched as irritation flashed across the man’s gray colored eyes, apparently not appreciative of her mild dig at him. He straightened to his full height, not the tallest man she’d seen but easily towering over her, as his expression tightened. Karina wasn’t entirely intimidated, not with her friends just a few tables away. Still, she didn’t appreciate trying to be scared into some type of submission. It was exhausting being a woman having to live in a man’s world.

“You’ve got quite a mouth on you, haven’t ya?” he sneered, eyes narrowing down at her, body shifting as a way of trying to step into her personal space. Karina’s teeth clenched. “Just ’cause your dad’s the captain doesn’t mean shit around here, sweetheart.”

For a betraying moment, Karina wondered if her father’s position in the police force meant anything at all.

Just as that thought fluttered across her mind, Karina heard the soft thudding sound of the pub doors opening over the music playing and people chattering, and instantly any sign of irritation wiped from her face at the sight of the man entering the Garrison. The man in front of her held no importance anymore—not that he ever did in the first place—as a familiar face entered the bar with all of the casual confidence in the world, instantly drawing the attention of everyone inside upon the opening of the doors.

Calum Hood walked in, his three piece dark grey suit pristine and crisp with a silver vest chain glinting in the light, a cigarette hanging from his plump lips while a cap that matched his suit rested atop dark curls. Ring clad fingers reached up to grasp the cigarette, dark eyes intuitively scanning the faces crowding his pub as a cloud of smoke curled out of his mouth, and Karina had to force herself to look away, not wanting to be caught staring for too long, and refocus her attention on finishing her drink as he walked further into the bar.

She downed the rest of her alcohol, setting the glass down as she vaguely heard the patrons going out of their way to greet Calum—an overenthusiastic “Evenin’, Mr. Hood!” here and a nervous “How are you, Mr. Hood?” there—not wanting to at all appear as if they were ignoring him, which was only a small hint to display the power he held. As Karina shifted to go back to her table, she quite honestly hadn’t realized she had completely forgotten about the man that had been attempting to chat her up until she began to turn away and was stopped by his hand grasping her wrist.

Karina stopped, blinking her widened eyes before following the hand up the length of the arm until she looked at the man holding her with an incredulous and slightly annoyed expression. “Didn’t your copper father tell you it’s rude to walk away from someone tryin’ to have a conversation with ya?”

Her jaw tightened, teeth grinding together as she stared at this man, older than her and relentless. Sometimes she truly wondered if the male species was even born with basic manners etiquette. Damn neanderthals. “He taught me how to deliver a punch if need be,” Karina responded, hoping to keep her voice calm despite the warning tilt that crept in as she spoke through gritted teeth.

The man laughed, as if what she had said was comical, only serving to quickly irritate Karina as her jaw tightened even more. He looked down at her, the jeering evident in his eyes as he raised doubtful eyebrows, the amused grin wide on his face, clearly taking her and her threat as joke as he taunted, “Oh, you’re gonna punch me, are ya?”

“There’ll be nothin’ of the sort.”

The sound of the new voice, raspy and deep with a lazy, almost uncaring drawl, had the man’s face blanching, Karina couldn’t help but notice. The color drained from his face as he straightened immediately, hand releasing Karina’s wrist, which she instantly pulled towards herself before looking to her right. It was then did she realize why the guy in front of her seemed to appear as though he’d been visited by a ghost.

“Mr. Hood, h—good evening.” Karina would’ve found it comical, how the stranger suddenly transformed into a bumbling idiot in front of a man who was obviously younger than him, if she wasn’t too busy staring at the newcomer in her own haze of wonder. She hadn’t seen him in years, but even with Calum Hood merely standing next to her, Karina could see why every soul in their town and beyond was absolutely terrified of him.

She couldn’t quite understand it, how someone had the power to appear so intimidating when they were doing nothing but standing there. Calum stood with the cigarette hanging between his lips, a thin stream of smoke curling from the end of it, with hands buried in the pockets of his expensive coat. The expression on his face, with dark eyes glued to the man, just appeared as though Calum had much better things to do then interfere in this conversation, and Karina knew that he most likely did—but stepping in had been done out of his own volition. And it confused her, making her unable to look away from him and put an end to her surprised yet puzzled expression she watched him with. Briefly, she wondered if everyone else in the pub was looking at them, or if the heat in her body was due to her previous irritation or with the newfound company she was in the presence of.

Calum Hood didn’t spare her a look yet, tilting his head up ever so slightly to look at the man from under the tip of his tweed flat cap. “It will be, once you walk away from Miss Garner,” he returned, the cigarette perfectly held between his lips as he spoke. His tone held no sort of emotion, though the command was somehow still clear as day in his calm voice. It was enough to have Karina’s heart jumping—along with his mention of her. He remembered her. She tracked the way his left hand pulled out of the pocket, fingers grasping the cigarette as the rings he wore glinted against the lights, using it to gesture towards the doorway as he added in finality, “Out, Stuart.”

The man—Stuart—didn’t even pause to argue. Karina watched in skeptic surprise as he gave a nod to Calum, not wanting to spare a moment that could ever possibly look like he was disobeying Calum’s order, barely looking her way as he picked up his hat and shuffled out of the bar, the doors swinging shut behind him. Karina’s gaze had been on him, watching him go, her view obstructed only briefly when Calum moved in front of her to take Stuart’s place.

She barely had a moment to comprehend what had happened when Calum spoke up again. “Leave it to Captain Garner’s daughter to try’n’pick a fight in my pub.” Karina straightened, throat working as Calum leaned his elbow against the bar top, body facing her as she watched him take off his cap. His curls sat perfectly atop his head but that didn’t stop Calum from running his fingers through them once he dropped his cap, the razors sewn into the peak clattering lightly. Stubbing out his cigarette in the glass ashtray on the bar, Calum quirked a lazy eyebrow at Karina. “Does your father know you’re here?”

His dark eyes were hypnotizing as he gazed at her, familiar but not, and Karina had to swiftly snap herself out of whatever trance she had found herself in to answer in a voice she hoped remained indifferent, “My father doesn’t dictate where I go, Mr. Hood. I am my own woman.”

He watched her intently, his gaze far too penetrating for her liking, her stomach turning under his stare along with the pointed Mr. Hood that had slipped from her tongue. Karina tried not to bristle, completely at a loss for what he may be thinking, his expression never giving anything away. She remembered, vaguely, how much of a smiling child he had been; how the fullness of his cheeks rosied whenever he grinned, and while some of that same roundness was still present, it was now accompanied by a stubbly jawline sharp and strong. A small inkling to how much he’d grown.

“A woman who’s apparently grieving,” Calum responded. He spoke in such a lazy, unrushed drawl, like he had all the time in the world and whoever he was speaking to had no choice but to wait for him to finish. Something told Karina that’s exactly how the world in their corner of Small Heath worked; it belonged to Calum Hood, and everyone else was just living in it. He lifted his chin, eyes still on hers, expression void of emotion even as he stated, “Sorry for your loss.”

Karina held back the snort. She doubted he was, doubted there was even a cell in his body that cared. Karina knew she should stop the conversation from flowing right there, should probably excuse herself politely and go back to her table with her friends and brother instead of lingering by the most dangerous man in Birmingham. Standing next to him alone was enough to rattle her bones. Still, her lips pressed together as they quirked up, nail tapping against the rim of her empty glass as she said, “Nothing a good drink can’t help with.”

She saw the subtle quirk of the corner of his lips, so brief that she would’ve missed it had it not been for the fact that she was looking at him, as Calum dragged his eyes towards the bartender and said, “Two whiskeys, Lewis.”

“Scotch or Irish, Mr. Hood?” the bartender asked promptly as Karina eyed him. He looked ready to answer to Calum’s every beck and call.

“Irish,” Calum told him, not bothering to consult with Karina as Lewis instantly went to pour out the drink. His dark eyes met her green ones as he mused, “Should be good enough to mend your broken heart.”

Karina bit the inside of her cheek, giving a tilt of her chin in the form of a subtle head shake as she gathered enough confidence to return smoothly, “Can’t heal what’s not broken.”

Her response, she could tell, intrigued the leader of the Blinders, one eyebrow quirking ever so slightly. Lewis placed their glasses down, but Calum’s eyes remained on Karina as he spoke in his drawling tone, carried over the music still playing throughout the pub, “Marriage didn’t agree with you?”

Was she seriously standing in the middle of the Garrison discussing her marriage with Calum Hood? Karina really would be needing that glass of Irish whiskey to get herself through this. She wondered, briefly, if her brother and friends had noticed just who exactly was in her company; wondered if they were purposefully staying away because it was Calum Hood or because they genuinely had no idea. Either way, Karina couldn’t bring herself to even look away from Calum, despite wanting to. Just gazing at him seemed like a bad idea; like he would suck her into his world and leave her to drown in it.

“My husband didn’t,” she corrected Calum, fingers itching to reach for her glass. He hadn’t reached for his. Karina took a breath, hoping the music would cover up the shuddering sound. “But I’m not one to speak ill of the dead.”

That, she saw, invited an amused smirk to tilt at Calum’s lips, the first true sign of some kind of emotion. Karina tracked the way his lips curled, a boyish expression that was coated with a kind of wickedness that had a shiver running down the length of her spine. It was then that Calum reached for both glasses, rings clinking against the glasses as he handed her one of them, which Karina hesitantly took. Couldn’t exactly turn a drink from Calum Hood away—Karina quickly and almost horrifically realized, in that moment, that she didn’t want to anyway. Just like she didn’t care for the few stares she knew were lingering on the two of them.

“So if the man was the problem and not the concept of marriage itself, I suppose you’re lookin’ for prospective suitors?” Calum hummed, turning his body so his back was against the bar, elbows rested on top as his hand held the glass after he took a sip. His body faced the expanse of his pub, filled with guests, but his head was turned towards Karina.

She felt her heart unnecessarily jump at his question, mind running with asinine possibilities as to why he would ask that of her. Honestly, Karina was still trying to accept the fact that she was having a conversation about marriage—her marriage—with Calum. Surely the leader of the most notorious gang had better things to do than to stand around conversing with a girl he once knew from his childhood about her marital status.

Karina’s throat was dry, both of her hands wrapped around the glass, hip against the bar as she gave a shake of her head. “I’m afraid you’d be wrong.” She noted the quirk of his eyebrow at her as he took a sip of her drink, silently prodding her to explain herself, and Karina pressed her teeth together at the condescending gesture. Was she some kind of pet who would know exactly what to do at the silent command of her owner? It heated her, but Karina wasn’t in the mood for pissing off Calum tonight. So she took a breath and found herself explaining, “I’ve come to understand that I would rather be working then getting married again. For now, at least.”

She waited for him to laugh, throat tight, just like her mother’s friends had when she told them the same thing—though Karina knew if she heard Calum Hood laugh, it would be so shocking that it’d feel like a slap in the face. But instead Calum was silent for a few agonizing seconds, the quiet only filled by the music and other patrons enjoying themselves, until Calum narrowed his dark eyes ever so slightly and pursed his lips before asking, “Are you a whore, Miss Garner?”

It was a good thing Karina hadn’t been sipping at her drink, because Calum’s question would’ve had her choking on it as she gaped at him in indignant surprise. He inquired about it so casually, as if it wasn’t an insult to her to suggest that the only work she was capable of doing was to service men through the likes of her body. If that’s the path some women chose to take, then more power to them, but Karina didn’t see that in her future any time soon.

It unnerved her, how she didn’t see any contempt or taunting in Calum’s eyes when he asked that of her, just curiosity as he stared at her expectantly. Karina wasn’t sure if the question itself was insulting, or the fact that Calum likely genuinely thought that the kind of work Karina was interested in doing was selling her body to whoever paid for it.

Her skin flushed, the tendons in her neck tensing briefly, forcing herself not to let the edge slip into her tone when she spoke up, already growing tired of having to control herself from slipping up in front of Calum at the risk of getting cut. “I’d rather get paid for my efficiency in typing and dealing with numbers than my body, Mr. Hood,” she told him, the hint of disdain at his insinuation involuntarily creeping into her voice. She couldn’t help it, she felt insulted.

At that, something flickered in the dark of Calum’s eyes, watching her intently in thoughtful silence as the pub buzzed around them. Karina was quickly realizing she was beginning to hate being unable to tell what Calum was thinking, particularly when he was watching her in such a way that had her nerves standing up on their ends and heart feeling as though something was forcing it to sink. He looked like he was thinking over something, maybe, and Karina was forced to stand in his silence, busying herself with her drink and wondering what exactly was running through Calum Hood’s wicked mind.

He surprised her by asking, “Your father’s alright with his only daughter stepping into the working world?”

Karina let out a soft yet exasperated breath through her nose, already growing tired of this. It was almost disappointing, how whatever fraction of an interest Calum seemed to have in her to spark conversation derived from the twisted relationship he had with her father. The leader of the Peaky Blinders being the number one target for her Police Captain father wasn’t quiet news; Karina was aware of how tough it was for her dad to ever get a solid hold on Calum Hood. The notorious gangster had more people in his pocket than anyone could count. Hell, Karina was pretty sure there were a few coppers on her dad’s police force that, while they weren’t entirely on Calum’s side, they also didn’t do much to go against him.

Karina felt like a traitor to her father, standing in the Garrison and chatting up Calum Hood, even if the conversation was seemingly innocent. Knowing all her dad wanted to do was put an end to Calum Hood’s reign should’ve been enough of a reason for Karina to never even step foot into this pub. Why didn’t she just walk away?

She took a breath. “Like I said—he doesn’t control what I do.” Karina found herself pushing away from the bar, skin tingling at the way Calum’s eyes tracked her movements. Always watching, always calculating. Somehow, she managed to gather the courage to tell him smoothly, “I didn’t come here to chat about my father, I’m here to enjoy the night with my friends.” Karina took a step away, praying that she wasn’t insulting Calum by walking away from him—she had an inkling that not many people did—but standing around talking to him was making her skin feel as though it was on fire and even though she was ready to walk away, Karina hated the fact that there was a part of her that wanted to stay put. So she raised her glass, the gold liquid dancing within, and she offered the smallest of smiles in the face of being polite. “Thank you for the drink.” As an afterthought, she added, “Mr. Hood.”

God, he never looked away. Karina kind of understood, now, why people moved out of his way the second they realized he was coming their way. A look alone was enough to send their hearts jumping into their throat where he was concerned. Calum tilted his chin up a bit, the corners of his lips lifting into a smirk as he raised his own glass. She saw the glint in his eyes reflecting off the lights of the pub, unsure if it was something she should worry about, as his smooth voice sounded, “Enjoy the Garrison, Miss Garner.”

Karina pressed the tip of her tongue to the back of her lower teeth, the smile still tilting slightly at her lips as she finally found herself turning around to walk away, never faltering despite feeling Calum’s gaze burning her back through the material of her dress. She didn’t dare turn to look at him, not when she knew he was still watching her, his stare enough to have goosebumps rising on her skin as she went.

Her entire body felt tense as she approached her friends, noticed the way a few of them, including Joyce and Sean, were looking at her with various degrees of alarmed expressions painted across their faces. Karina took a breath, knowing the inevitable round of questions about to be fired at her.

“Were you just talking to Calum Hood?” Sean questioned, eyes wide and eyebrows raised as he spoke in a conspiratorial, rushed whisper. He sat opposite of her, arms folded on top of the table as he leaned towards her. Karina wasn’t entirely sure if her brother was pissed or just plainly surprised. He was the one who suggested coming to the Blinders’ bar and Karina knew he didn’t entirely think ill of them, so she wasn’t sure of what her brother’s reaction would be. She wasn’t even sure what her own thoughts were regarding the unexpected and short interaction with Calum.

Before she could answer, Joyce jumped in with an excited whisper of her own, “Did Calum Hood just buy you a drink?”

Karina pursed her lips, not wanting to answer just yet as she raised the glass and took a long sip of her drink. She ignored the stares she was receiving from the two of them, her gaze wandering over to where Calum was standing, noticing how some men were now by his side as they chatted away. The band continued to play music that rang in Karina’s ears, but all of it seemed to drown out when Calum’s gaze met hers, freezing Karina in place and rendering her unable to look away despite her best efforts.

She remained still where she sat, hand tightly gripping her glass as her dark hazel-green eyes remained locked on Calum’s brown despite the distance between them and the few people that passed by that obstructed her view of him for seconds at a time. But he never looked away, absently listening to whatever the man to his right was saying to the group, and Karina felt her heart beginning to thunder within her chest as he watched her watch him. How could a single stare from someone affect her so boldly? And why did she have to be the latest target of Calum Hood’s intense, frighteningly promising gaze?

The weight of his observant stare had Karina’s stomach churning uneasily, only to be accompanied by the anxious, thrilling feeling that this wasn’t the end of what, without her permission or knowledge, had started.

tags: @irwinkitten @glitterprincelu @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @valentinelrh @softforcal @astroashtonio @hereforlukescruff @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @dammitbands @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @spideyseavey @imfuckin10plybud @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @heartbreak-5sos @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @gorgeouslygrace @sunnysideblogs @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles @aulxna @theagenderwhocriedwolf @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @calistheloml @aestheticrelated @bloodlinecal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11 @outofmylimitcal

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hobbitsetal · 4 years

Text

Prodigal son s1e1 live-blog, for @loubuttons and @thisbibliomaniac because the fact I’m watching this show is y’all’s fault. But under a cut, because I’m nice like that.

his dad looks a bit manic...and saying “we’re the same” doesn’t bode well, given what I know about the show. also 80% sure he’s got gum disease, going by how red his gums looked in that smile.

Serial killer! Makes sense!

He’s distracted by the cicadas. Five seconds and I see what the fuss is; this is one precious boi.

Brrzap; that taser looked painful. Ooh, and cue the freaky childhood flashbacks! His dad is clearly the worst and this poor baby needs a better relationship than this to cling to.

YOU LIE, YOU SICK THING. THERE *ARE* MONSTERS AND YOU ARE ONE.

faces in a jar. That’s no bueno. Bad guy with a gun, also very no bueno. “Someone breaks us.” tbh my friend, I believe too strongly in original sin to agree with that.

oh yikes, the sheriff. Even bad guys have humanity.

“I get it, you don’t punch a sheriff.” He is a baby, but yes also a little stupid.

Oh hey, Lou Diamond Phillips is in this!! AND Michael sheen! LDP was one of the best parts of “Stargate Universe.”

He’s still friends with his dad. This is heartbreaking and extremely unhealthy. I feel stupid for just now recognizing Michael Sheen is the dad. He plays warm and sympathetic and psychotic equally well and it’s frankly impressive. plus that’s an A+ beard.

Soooo homebody has Severe Issues. That was not a good nightmare. But “I can see clearly now” is a fabulous song.

His sister seems like a good egg. I am HERE for good sibling relationships!! Plus she has a killer outfit on. If I could be an actress, I would be one for the wardrobe alone. She has gorgeous eyes, too.

Oh heyyyy it’s LDP! “Spooked puppy dog look” yep I like him. But his sister lied ;_; so much for good sibling relationships. I mean, yeah she’s trying to protect him, but still.

“psychologist, forensic profiler, acquired taste.” I love Gil and I love Gil’s relationship with Malcolm and I already love JT’s relationship with Malcolm. “So you’re a necrophilic?” Iconic. We stan one rude boi.

also can I just point out that Gil’s outfit is frickin classy?

A copycat killer...copying his dad. Welp, let’s just dive into the emotional anguish, shall we?

Gil, you trash bucket, you KNEW. you KNEW the killer was copying his dad! And now you’re saying you’re not asking him to talk to his dad, but you’re definitely asking.

“It wasn’t a healthy relationship.” Okay, at least you know it.

His mother does not look old enough for two kids in their late 20s. Aaaand she’s trying to rub his life. Rude. He’s a grown man, woman, mind your business and shove your pills where the sun don’t shine.

Don’t drink the tea, Malcolm. Pls. I beg.

Oooookay, the coroner is mildly insane. Which makes she and malcom would instantly get along.

welp, we’re diving into BDSM. I am Uncomfortable™️. And I’m pretty sure the killer is at the dom’s apartment, if not the killer himself.

“My profile’s wrong.” Whoopsie.

Nico is a victim sitting on a bomb. Well that’s dandy. God bless Malcolm and his complete lack of social skills.

“I’m gonna chop off your hand!” UM??? Aaaand the bomb just went off. A’ight, I’m hooked.

HOLY FRICK HE ACTUALLY DID IT, THE ABSOLUTE MADMAN. “I’ve got to give them a hand.” What even is this show, holy merciful smokes.

Oh no, his hand is shaking. MAYBE HES THINKING ABOUT CHOPPING HANDS OFF, GEEZ.

His mother is trying to set him up. Hoo boy. This is an awkward family dinner. And ainsley sold him out without hesitation, nice. No don’t say he’s a copycat!! Ainsley is a reporter, don’t say—heck. This is going to end Very Badly. Pls malcom no.

oh gee, mom knows the victims’ names. That’s heartbreaking. I will give this show major points for exploring the fallout of a serial killer’s actions for his family.

Screw his father to hell and back for being a kind and gentle dad while also being a serial killer. That’s just messed up.

And we get another nightmare, that’s splendid. That poor detective who just got clotheslined. Bless her for hugging him till he’s awake again.

Poor Gil, dealing with a hyper frantic boi who is Not, I repeat, Not in Control whatever he thinks.

Oh here we go, he’s off to talk to daddy dipstick. This is gonna be a thing, clearly, where he has to ask his dad for help solving cases.

Do not, you horrible waste of humanity, look so pleased about your copycat. Is it a prison guard copying him...? How did he know so quickly the pages were stolen?

HE’S STILL SEEING PATIENTS?! How did he not get his license revoked for KILLING PEOPLE?! This is stupid. He’s enjoying this. I hate him. I hate him for being charismatic and charming and interested in his son.

Huh. He’s scared his son won’t leave. Welp, there’s our series hook: he promises to come back and see his dad. At least he got what he needed.

Malcom running into his mom at Berkhead’s party is frankly hilarious. Also I suspect the wife rather than the husband. She’s probably jealous.

Oh yep, private conversation upstairs AND her husband’s upstairs! So I was wrong, the wife is the fourth victim, which makes sense given Malcom’s refined profile. Okeydokey, I can work with how this show handles plot twists.

Dani’s in danger. How do we fix it? By strolling in like a boss. Malcom, you absolute nutcase. “You’re still in control.” Bro. Broski. Bromonid.

Is that a knife?? Aw Dani, you were so close! MALCOM NO threatening to use the paralytic on yourself is...I mean, it’s working, but also BRO YOU ARE NOT OKAY. why are you looking at Dani as you confess your motivation for being a profiler? Why are you begging Carter to kill you. This is bad. ooh also title drop!

Enter Gil!! Intriguing bookend with the beginning; also props to the guy playing Malcom for capturing that bitter disappointment at not dying.

Oh yikes, Gil was almost a Surgeon’s victim. And Malcom was the one who called him...makes sense with the nightmare and Gil and Malcom’s connection makes sense.

Does he eat a candy every time he solves a case? That’s adorable ;_;

Hmm, so his dad is pulling strings behind the scenes. Yep, I hate him. Aaaand now he’s emotionally manipulating his son and offering him help to maintain that phenomenally unhealthy relationship. Ugh. Smug piece of dirt.

Heck. This is my quarantine binge now.

#prodigal son #hobbit live blogs #but in a way that won’t clog your dash

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inevitably-johnlocked · 5 years

Note

What are some of your favorite long johnlock fics (like 100k+ words) ?

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: Do you have any recommendations for a hella long (80k-250k+) and hella angsty with hella good writing? Like any personal favourites, if you’re into heavy stuff ig. (Bonus points if topics include either one being suicidal, infidelity/cheating, and/or if there’s a redemption arc)\

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: What’s the longest slow burn fic you’ve ever read? Ive only been reading fan fic for 4 months, and i read one that had 150k words but i was wondering if there are longer slow burns?

@deerstalker143 said to inevitably-johnlocked: Hi, I really like your fic recs, and was wondering if you could provide a fic rec of long and sweet book-length Johnlock fics :D Thank you!

Hi Lovelies!!

OH GOD, you guys asked me these AGES ago, and I started a list and it just kept growing and growing and GROWING, especially since I’m reading a lot more really long epics these days, so it makes me happy to have a decent sized list for y’all now! I think now would be a good time to post them… and I know that people have been asking for them. So I’m putting these together since they’re long-fic related LOL Slow Burn List here if you’re interested in more!

NOVEL-LENGTH FICS: 100K+ FICS

See also: Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K (Nov. 2018) (I do have a whole bunch more since then, so just ask if you want a Pt. 2)

Definitions by siennna (T, 101,528 w+ WiP || Fluff and Humour, Love Confessions, Romance, Snuggling) – Sherlock’s journey in defining his flat mate and stumbling through the muddled world of emotion. {{This feels complete; the chapter count is listed as ? but I feel like it is done}}

The Heart In The Whole by verityburns (E, 101,650 || Post-TGG Canon Divergence, Drama & Angst, H/C, First Time) – Events after ‘The Great Game’ leave Sherlock dependent on his best friend and colleague. But John has a secret of his own…

The Cost of a Wish by slashscribe (E, 102,493 w. || xxxHolic Fusion || Spirits / Ghosts and Magic, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Soul Mates / Fated Lovers, Adventure, Immortal Sherlock, Powerful John, POV John, Frottage, Wish Granting, Angst with Happy Ending, Nightmares) – John has been plagued by a secret his entire life that has made him feel hopeless until he meets a mysterious, seemingly omniscient man named Sherlock Holmes who owns a wish-granting shop. Their meeting sets off a series of inevitable events that will change the course of both of their lives forever.

The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w. || Alternate Future AU || , Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Hand Jobs / Oral Sex) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It’s 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn’t need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.

Maintenance and Repair by patternofdefiance (E, 106,650 w. || FutureAU, Augmentation || Augmented John, Depression, Body Modification, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Sci-Fi, Self-Care, Body Dysmorphia) – John wants to explain the rush of sensation and data, which is just another form of sensation (or is it the other way around?). John wants to say:Augmentation circuits report temperature, pressure, various forms of quantitative input. Sudden changes are reported as pain, since sudden changes are dangerous, and pain is the quickest way to encourage reflexive extraction. But all John can manage is, “Nng.” Because this sudden touch is not reporting as pain. Part 2 of STATIC

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

Eyes Up, Heels Down by CodenameMeretricious (E, 107,845 w. || Sports Equestrian AU || Fluff, Angst, Humour, Rider!Sherlock, Groomer!John, Show Jumping, Slow Burn, Happy Ending) – Sherlock is a top eventing rider currently training at Baker Farms. John is the new groom who’s been told to steer clear of the surly rider and his horses. Part 1 of Baker Farms

between each beat are words unsaid by darcylindbergh, hudders-and-hiddles (T, 107,998 w. || Epistolary, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Angst, Happy Ending) – On their wedding night, John and Sherlock gift each other with the things they each said when the other could not hear, the things they each put down where the other could not see: a collection of writings that illustrate the way their love for one another has grown over the years. Part 1 of between each beat

Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower (E, 109,683 w. || Genie/Djinn AU || Magical Realism, H/C, Kidnapping, Genie Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Case Fic, H/C, Angst, Clubs, John Whump) – Fairy tales are for those who remember how to dream; not John Watson, broken and hiding from his bleak future in a beige bedsit. But then he discovers a lamp and finds himself in the dangerous riptide of an enigmatic man whose very existence is unbelievable, murder charges against his sister, and the growing pains of feeling alive once more.

THERE BUT FOR THE GRACE OF JOHN WATSON by skyefullofstars (T, 110,758 w. || H/C, Kidnapping, Angst, Violence, Whump, Nightmares, Murder, Drug Addiction, Torture) – While Sherlock grapples with his new-found feelings for John Watson, he faces a very real threat: John’s kidnapping and shooting at the hands of James Moriarty. And the knowledge that the love of his life is being used to test an addictive drug - at the risk of John’s sanity and life. Prequel to THE BOYS OF BAKER STREET. Part 1 of THERE BUT FOR THE GRACE OF JOHN WATSON

Breakable by MissDavis (E, 117,627 w. || Established, Fluff/Angst, Depression, Paralysis, Happy-ish Ending) –After John is seriously injured, Sherlock struggles to figure out how to help him, keep himself sane, and maybe, just maybe, get their life back to the way it’s supposed to be. Part 1 of Breakable Not Broken {{I love Sherlock’s characterization in this… it’s so heartwrenching but very realistic}}.

The Burning Heart by May_Shepard (M, 119,150 w. || Canon Divergence, Post-TRF, John’s Sexuality, S3 Rewrite, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Watson, John’s Gay) – When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.

The Swan Triad by Pennin_Ink (T, 121,660 w. across 3 works || Swan Lake AU || Magical / Fairy Tale AU, Romance, Falling in Love, Pining, Psychological Torture, Transformation) – Sherlock and John grow up spending every summer together. Their mothers’ attempts to play matchmaker only fuel their mutual resentment and scorn. But then, one summer.

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship’s surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there’s more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin’ the eye, he has to choose… is it a pirate’s life for him?

To Light Another’s Path by BeautifulFiction (E, 128,654 w. || Post-TGG, Sick Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Drug Addiction / Recreational Drug Use, First Time / Kiss, Case Fic) – Teaching John to observe seems to be a losing battle, but when Sherlock falls ill and submits himself to John’s care, will he realise that there is more to life than the science of deduction? Meanwhile, there is a murder to solve, and John must try and convince Sherlock not to sacrifice his own health for the sake of the case.

The Horse and his Doctor by khorazir (T, 129,003 w. || Horse / Vet AU || Magical Realism, Horses, Vet John, Horse Sherlock, Implied Alcoholism) – Invalided after a run in with a poacher in Siberia, veterinary surgeon John Watson finds it difficult to acclimatise to the mundanity of London life. Things change when a friend invites him along to a local animal shelter and he meets their latest acquisition, a trouble-making Frisian with the strangest eyes and even stranger quirks John has ever encountered in a horse.

Ten Days by Engazed (E, 137,208 w. || Rape/Non-Con, Post-TRF, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Torture, Case Fic) – Sherlock Holmes has been dead for forty months, and John is at last beginning to live his life again. But just when he believes he might be happy, his world crashes back down around him. John is named a missing person. Someone is pointing DI Lestrade in the wrong direction. And as the days pass, his situation only grows more dire. It seems like the disappearance of his best friend is the only thing that can bring Sherlock Holmes back from the dead. Part 1 of The Fallen

Colors by Quesarasara (E, 140,537 w. || Pleasantville-Inspired AU || Soulmates, Colour Bonds, Alternating POV, Angst, Fluff, Pining, Case Fic, Medical Procedures) – Everyone on earth is born with eyes that see in black, white, and an endless series of greys. When you meet your soulmate, you finally see the world in color. We’re all searching for the person who brings color to our lives. John and Sherlock are no exception. Part 1 of The Colors ‘Verse

How to Build a Heart out of Ashes by Teumessian (E, 144,931 w. || Changling AU || Slow Burn, Drug Use, Mentions of Child Abuse / Bullying, Mentions of Student/Teacher Relations, Uni-Age) – In an AU where a small number of the population become Changelings at a young age, at 17 John Watson believes he’s destined for Normal life but then the Change takes him and he is sent to the Baker Institute. There he meets Sherlock Holmes.

Midnight Blue Serenity by BeautifulFiction (E, 151,907 w. || Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar / For a Case, Drugs, Pining, Case Fic, UST) – When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate’s charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?

A Fold in the Universe by darkest_bird (E, 152,857 w. || O-John, A-Sherlock || Body Swap, Crossing Universes, DubCon, H/C, Angst, Happy Ending) – Alpha Sherlock and Omega John are in a relationship. Prime Sherlock and Prime John are not. So what happens when a freak fold in the universe switches one John for the other?

Performance In a Leading Role by Mad_Lori (E, 156,714 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Hollywood / Actor AU, Secret Relationship, Falling in Love, Slow Burn, Romance, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Pining) – Sherlock Holmes is an Oscar winner in the midst of a career slump. John Watson is an Everyman actor trapped in the rom-com ghetto. When they are cast as a gay couple in a new independent drama, will they surprise each other? Will their on-screen romance make its way into the real world? Part 1 of Performance in a Leading Role

The Quiet Man by ivyblossom (E, 157,369 w. || Post-TRF, John First POV, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Present Tense, Imaginary Sherlock) – “Do you just carry on talking when I’m away?”

Gimme Shelter by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 159,368 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || 70′s Surfer AU || Period Typical Homophobia, Hawaii, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Professional Surfers, Gay John / Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John was a Sailor, Misunderstandings) – All John Watson wants is the feeling of a freshly waxed surfboard under his feet and the hot California sun baking down onto his back. To finally go pro in the newly formed world of professional surfing and leave the dark memories of his past behind him as he rips across the face of a towering blue barrel. To lounge beside the beach bonfire every evening with an ice cold beer tucked into the cool sand beside him and listen to Pink Floyd and the Doors while the saltwater dries in his sun bleached hair. That’s all he wants, that is, until the hot young phenom taking Oahu and the Hawaiian shores by storm steps up next to him in the sand in the second round of the 1976 International Surf Competition. (PUBLISHED AS ‘The Sea Ain’t Mine Alone’)

Mise en Place by azriona (M, 161,004 w. || Restaurant (Kitchen Nightmares) AU || Sherlock is Gordon Ramsay / Celebrity Sherlock, Restauranteur John, Harry Plays Prominent Role, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, Cranky Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn) – John Watson had no intentions of taking over the family business, but when he returns from Afghanistan, battered and bruised, and discovers that his sister Harry has run their restaurant into the ground, he doesn’t have much choice. There’s only one thing that can save the Empire from closing for good – the celebrity star of the BBC series Restaurant Reconstructed, Chef Sherlock Holmes. Part 1 of Mise en Place

Sketchy by serpentynka (E, 184,053 w. || Post-TRF, Post-Mary, John Whump, Slow Burn Love Story, Case Fic, Art, Porn With Feelings, Switchlock, Travelling, Career Change, Family Secrets, Illness / Health) – What (and who) will be left when nobody cares about your Work? A slow-burn fic with cases, places, mistaken identities, unfair choices, essential changes, violent feels, blatant lies, fearless portraiture, family secrets, high-risk bespoke gifts, durable friendships, bedtime stories, foreign travel and tongues, sickness (and health), and the significance of things which are slow to unfurl – but cannot be ignored. Oh, and…porn. Part 1: Sherlock takes on an obvious case (barely a 4) and meets someone who will force him to re-examine what it means to see. Part 1 of Sketchy

Unkissed Series by 221b_hound (T to E, 184,168 w. across 46 works || Established Relationship, Ace Sherlock) – Sherlock returned from the dead a year ago. John returned to Baker Street six months ago. They’ve been in a couple since then. or at least, not NOT a couple. For two smart men, they sure can be dumb. Luckily, an art thief tries to drown Sherlock, Sherlock has a fever dream and things are about to change.

Fallen Series by Belladonna_Q, mamishka (T, 222,094 w. across 3 works || Winglock || Angel!John, Angels & Demons, Faes, Christianity, Changelings) – In a world where myth, mystery, and the supernatural flourish beneath the veneer of modern civilization, Sherlock is a master of magic as well as science and deduction. But there are some things that he cannot see, riddles he cannot unravel, even when they walk right beside him in the form of one John Watson…

The Gilded Cage by BeautifulFiction (E, 326,887 w. || Omegaverse || Omega Sherlock / Alpha John, Friends to Lovers, Dub Con, Reproductive Rights) – In a world where Omegas are the property of the elite Alphas, locked away and treasured by those wealthy enough to buy them, John never questioned his flatmate’s secondary gender. Sherlock Holmes was an Alpha through-and through. Wasn’t he? A chance discovery turns the world on its head, and John is left grappling to come to terms with Sherlock’s past as events conspire to threaten their future.

MARKED FOR LATER

Cake and Other Sins by Indybaggins (E, 100,670 w. || Great British Bakeoff AU || Alternate First Meeting, Angst, Baking, Desire, Disability, Incest (Holmescest/Holmescest with John), Masturbation, Falling in Love, Oral, Outdoor Sex, Past Drug Use, Poisoning, Voyeurism) – Sherlock and John meet as competing bakers on The Great British Bake Off. There’s intense baking, lush recipes and enticing food. Mycroft, guilt, past sins in chocolate and gingerbread. And love. That too.

Minutiae (Or 156 Things I Know About You) by AtlinMerrick (E, 101,342 w. + || WiP, Marriage, Anal/Oral Sex, Domestic, Stand Alone Chapters, Humour, Prompts, Lovers, Short Stories) – Here, in no particular order, are some of the things John has learned about Sherlock, and some of the things Sherlock has learned about John. In the end there will be 156 mundane and unusual facts for each of them. (Um…I never stopped at 156.) (All chapters stand alone.)

A Ritual to Read to Each Other by weeesi (E, 101,463 w. || Post S3 / Post HLV, Pining, Alternating POV, Masturbation, John’s Nightmares, Mary is Not Nice, Love Confessions, Flashbacks, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, BJ’s / HJ’s, Shower Sex, Anal, John Deals With Feelings, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Injury, On Holidays, Implied Mystrade) – After Mycroft terminated his exile but before Sherlock could escape from the infuriating plane, John and Mary were whisked away by car to an unknown location.Sherlock hasn’t seen them for an entire year. He doesn’t know when he’ll see John again – until one day, he does.But, of course, nothing is simple.

Dog Days by All_I_need (E, 101,627 w. || Post-Baskerville AU, Experiments Gone Wrong, Fluff and Humour) – John has an accident in the laboratory of the Baskerville military facility. While they wait for the scientists to find a solution, he and Sherlock must re-examine the nature of their friendship as they navigate daily life and the Work, all while trying to answer the truly important questions: Is it okay to pet your flatmate if he happens to be a dog at the moment? And how exactly do you beg a self-professed sociopath for cuddles? Part 1 of Dog Days

The Bravery of the Soldier by bakerstreetgirl (G, 101,703 +w., WIP || BAMF John, John in Afghanistan, PTSD, Post-TRF, Case Fic, Sherlock Cares, Epic Bromance, Platonic Soulmates, Platonics, Flashbacks) – When a news story about a hostage situation in Afghanistan breaks, details about John Watson’s military service come to light that the doctor had kept secret for a long time. Sherlock is intrigued and John manages to surprise the British government. What John needs in light of this story and the PTSD responses it flares up, is a friend. Can Sherlock Holmes step up to the job?Deals mainly with John’s career and military background, plus epic friendship, BAMFness and a little bit of case fic. Part 1 of the Before Baker Street series

We Will Survive by anny (M, 105,960 w. || Viclock vs Johnlock, Past Viclock, Anal / BJ’s / Orgasms, Music, Jealousy, Case Fic, Social Media, Protective Mycroft, Pining John / Sherlock, Fluff, Weddings, Drug References, Drunkenness, Angst, Humour, Character Death) – After Reichenbach, Sherlock is back in London to face a new villain: Sebastian Moran. But he has to deal with John’s new life with Mary Morstan, and he soon understands that things between them have changed. With the arrival of Victor Trevor in Sherlock’s life, John will finally deal with his true feelings for Sherlock…

How Long? by TheBritishBourbon (M, 111,010 w. || Kidnapping, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Sherlock, Protective John, PTSD Sherlock, Flashbacks, Dark Themes, Implied Torture) – Sherlock never got to jump off the roof of St. Barts, he never got the chance. Sherlock was abducted and held for 5 years, but now he has escaped. What awaits him as he returns to reality? Part 1 of How Long Universe

Two Two One Bravo Baker by abundantlyqueer (E, 114,574 w. || Military AU || Afghanistan, War Story, Thriller) – Captain John Watson of 40 Commando, the Royal Marines, is assigned to protect and assist Sherlock Holmes as he investigates what appears to be a simple war atrocity in Afghanistan. An intense attraction ignites between the two men as they uncover a conspiracy that threatens everything they’ve ever known, but Sherlock is as much hunted as hunter, and everyone close to him is in deadly danger. Can he solve the case in time to save himself and John? Part 1 of Two Two One Bravo Baker Universe

Scotch Series by earlgreytea68 (M, 119,371 w. over 17 works || [Untagged, will tag when read]) – In which Sherlock asks Mycroft for a favor.

Did you feel it? : A soulmates AU by MorganeUK (G, 126,783 w. || Soulmates AU || Kid/Teen/Unilock, Protective Greg, Angst, Big Feels, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Mystrade, Injuries, Slow Burn, Anxious John, BAMF John, Protective John, Est. Rel., Happy Ending) – In a world where 0.01% of the population have a soulmate with whom they share pains and violent emotions… what are the odds that an ex-army doctor and an ex-addict detective open their heart and soul enough to found each others?Finally writing a twist on the soulmates trend… Hope you like it!

The Case of the Moebius Trip by Bitenomnom (NR, 129,218 w. || Time Travel, BAMF!John, Angst, Death, Post-TRF) – When John finally gives in and accepts a case for the first time since Sherlock fell eight months ago, he finds himself in a unique position: in possession of what his client calls a time machine, and desperate enough to give it a go. If it works, he could travel back in time. If it works, he could save Sherlock.

“Merry Christmas” I wrapped it up and sent it with a note saying “I love you” by starrysummernights (E, 136,580+ w. || WIP, chapter missing? || Post S4, Slow Burn, Mary is Not Nice, Christmas, Fluff, Smut, Angst, Parentlock, Past Torture / Rape) – John has moved back into 221B with his daughter Rosie after Mary was killed, but things are not exactly comfortable between him and Sherlock. After everything that has happened, they are trying to become friends again…and maybe something more. What better time than the Christmas season?! Takes place after TLD.

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w. || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel.) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it’s a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Ten Days by Engazed (E, 137,208 w. || Rape/Non-Con, Post-TRF, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Torture, Case Fic) – Sherlock Holmes has been dead for forty months, and John is at last beginning to live his life again. But just when he believes he might be happy, his world crashes back down around him.John is named a missing person. Someone is pointing DI Lestrade in the wrong direction. And as the days pass, his situation only grows more dire. It seems like the disappearance of his best friend is the only thing that can bring Sherlock Holmes back from the dead. Part 1 of The Fallen {{I haven’t read this one yet so heed the tags}}

Emperor Tales of the Frozen South by cwb (M, 153,444 w. || Penguin AU || Adventure, Rituals, Fluff, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Gay Rights, Bonding, Antartica) – At the bottom of the world, two intrepid explorers make their way in the harshest of environments. An important journey must be taken, and prophecies fulfilled, but not before family meddling, political interference, and self-doubt threaten to alter the future of an entire species.If you know me at all, you know that this had to be done. Part 1 of Emperor Tales of the Frozen South

Skeletons by flawedamythyst (T, 174,262 w. across 3 works || Implied Character Death) – Sherlock’s refusal to talk about his past hides far more skeletons than John could ever have guessed at. Halloween-esque AU.

All the Best and Brightest Creatures by wordstrings (E, 188,426 w. || Case Fic, Action/Adventure, POV First Person, Alternate Canon, Romance, Hurt / Comfort, Love at First Sight, Asexuality, Kidnapping, Torture, Drug Use/Addiction) – Sherlock sent Jim Moriarty to prison for killing Carl Powers at age ten. This is the story of the consequences.

Nature and Nurture by earlgreytea68 (M, 203,273 w. || Parentlock, Cloning, Kidlock, Dev. Rel.) – The British Government accidentally clones Sherlock Holmes. Which brings a baby to 221B Baker Street. Part 1 of Nature & Nurture

Free Falling by twistedthicket1 (M, 203,574 w. || Winglock, Fluff and Angst, Humour, Kidlock / Teenlock, Mystrade & Johnlock) – All Guardian angels are born with a Chosen human. When this child is born, the angel comes into being to protect and care for them during their life on Earth. For John Watson, all he cares about in the world revolves around his Chosen, Sherlock Holmes. Watching him grow up though, the angel soon learns that God must have had a sense of humor the day he decided to make Sherlock, as trouble seems to follow him like a magnet wherever he goes. John can’t decide what’s worse, the idea of losing his Chosen one, or the fact that he may be breaking the most taboo law of heaven as he disguises himself as a human to better protect and befriend the beloved detective he’s always watched from afar. He was meant to care for him. But what happens when caring evolves into something more? What happens when an emotion an angel is supposed to be incapable of possessing comes to life suddenly and viciously inside John’s chest?

The Jewel in the Tower by PoppyAlexander (E, 207,079 w. || Dystopian AU, Violence, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Mild Dub Con, One World Government, Class Issues, Assassin John / Geisha Sherlock, Self Esteem Issues, Slow Burn, Espionage, Miscommunication, Sexual Fantasy, Masturbation, Letters/Texting, Phone Sex, Infidelity, First Time, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Injury Recovery, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Scars, Misgendering, Happy Endings) – In a contemporary dystopia, Unity is peace – despite the fact unsanctioned information, illicit currency, and every sort of danger flows unchecked in the world’s pleasure districts. John Watson, a weary hired gun, is assigned by the mysterious Mentor to investigate a subversive element lurking in the Icehouse, the world’s most famous House of Repose. As accustomed as he is to dealing with the unexpected, John is nevertheless woefully unprepared to meet the gem of the Ice house, Xie, the world renowned “drashaskaya,” the living work of art after which all other drashas are modeled. In sumptuous suites, amid trailing puddles of silk and fervent whispers in the night, John soon learns that nothing is as it seems in the floating world of London’s pleasure district. (PUBLISHED AS “At Night in the Floating World”)

The Good Morrow Series by greywash (E, 216,513 +w. across 5 works || WiP || Post-TRF Divergence, Horny John, Smut, Feelings, Negotiations, Christmas/Advent, Sherlock is a Mess, Relationships, Addiction Issues, PTSD, Therapy, Injury, Aging, Loneliness, Marriage, Family, Friendship, POV Second Person, Travel, Character Studies) – A post-S2 series where everyone has a lot of feels about everything and plausibility is stretched unto breaking. Also: fucking.

You Go To My Head by 7PercentSolution and J_Baillier (E, 257,765+ w. across 8 Stories, WiP || Surgeon AU || Medical Realism, Doctor John / Doctor Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Addiction, Angst, Slow Burn, PTSD, Pining, Insecurity) – This series is an alternate universe one, featuring the exciting medical and romantic adventures of doctors Watson (senior neuroanaesthetist) and Holmes (neurosurgeon).

Radioactive Trees In A Red Forest by Maribor_Petrichor (E, 280,251 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S4, Suicidal Ideations, Alcohol / Rx Drug Abuse, Coming Out / Bisexual John, Seizures, Past/Referenced/Implied Child Abuse, Hallucinations, Rehab, Celibacy, Sobriety / Relapse, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Psychological Trauma, Nice /Not Anti-Mary, John’s POV, Parentlock, First Time, Angst, Switchlock) – John Watson is what happens when a man can no longer see a reason to go on. John Watson is what happens when a man starts to let go. “It is what it is.” John Watson is what happens when what “it is” becomes too much to bear. This is a story of the life, death, and resurrection of John Hamish Watson.

Enigma by khorazir (M, 289,667 w. || Codebreaker / WWII / Imitation Game-Inspired AU || Case Fic, Espionage, Period-Typical Homophobia / Sexism, Pining Sherlock, Inexperienced / VirginSherlock, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Non-Graphic Violence) – It’s the autumn of 1941, war is raging in Europe, German U-boats are raiding Allied convoys in the Atlantic, the Luftwaffe is bombing English cities, and the cryptographers at Bletchley Park are working feverishly to decode their enemies’ encrypted communications. One should consider this challenge and distraction enough for capricious codebreaker Sherlock Holmes. But the true enigmas are yet waiting to be deciphered: an unbreakable code, a strange murder, and the arrival of Surgeon Captain John H. Watson of the Royal Navy.

My Heart Is True As Steel by prettysailorsoldier (E, 316,207 w. || Teenlock, Case Fic, Rugby, Fluff, First Kiss/Time, Past Drug Use, Anal, Blow Jobs) – When Sherlock and John become roommates at a prestigious sixth-form college, they both get a lot more than they bargained for. Between Shakespeare, rugby, and not a small amount of murder, it promises to be a very interesting year, but there is much more going on than meets the eye. A noose is tightening around the duo, darker and more dangerous than anyone realizes, and it will take everything they both have to unravel it before they lose everything they’ve found.

NUTRISCO ET EXTINGUO by Zoffoli (M, 327,772 w. || Alternating Second Person POV, Post-TRF, Character Study, Romance, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Humour, Mystery) – “You haven’t said what you wanted to say.” Well yes, some things take you by surprise, and you’re not quite prepared for them. Like when your best friend jumps off a building in front of you.

Deflowered - Director’s Cut by Lorelei_Lee (E, 328,535 w. || Mafia / Mob AU || Rape/Non-Con, Dub-Con, Boss John/Rentboy Sherlock, Bottomlock, Virgin Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Jealous John, Prostate Milking, Sounding, Anal Beads/Plug, Anal Sex / Fingering, Spanking, Begging, Blow Jobs, Riding Crops, Begging, Romance, Desperation, Minor Character Death, Implied Self Harm, Violence) – It should have been strictly business. Being a Mafia boss with a sadistic sexual streak, John had long since realised that his playthings were in it for the money only. Being a masochistic rent boy, Sherlock seemed too good to be true. Little did they know…

The Men Who Talked Between the Words by Odamaki (E, 463,024 w. || Parentlock, UST/URT, Pining Sherlock, Grieving John, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse, Slow Burn/Build, Case Fic, First Kiss / Time, Implied/Referenced Suicide & Drug Use, Slow Burn, Sherlock Whump, Panic Attacks) – John expected to be a father some day; he expected to have the house, and the wife and the nice suburban job. Sherlock never expected to have children, in part because he never expected to make it past 30. As it turns out, you don’t get a choice. Crammed into Baker Street with a baby, John struggles with single-parenthood and his own fears, while Sherlock treads the fine line between doing too little and saying too much.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #long fics #novel length fics #100k fics #my fic recs #long post #burdenedwithacurse

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peakysabrina · 4 years

Text

Dark Horse: Chapter 2

As usual, please leave your comments and suggestions if you want to!

No warnings, other than the usual one for violent themes, and I think for language as well.

The story is also on AO3 btw https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabrinaT/works

Thanks a bunch, y’all!

Being from Romani descent, and speaking Rokka quite well, Tommy and his siblings could pratically sense when a camp was nearby. There was this scent, this energy, almost an aura that was as characteristic as fingerprints. Johnny and his family, for example, still lived in the traditional way, despite having settled in Birmingham for the time being. It was a beautiful, communal form of living, one that was cherished by those close to it, and conducive to strong forms of family bonds. The new camp, however, wasn't as bright, as lively, or as big as a normal Romani camp would be. The wagons hadn't maintained the natural hues of the wood, but had been painted black, probably to match the horses, and the clothings of the inhabitants. There was a sad fire in the middle of the settlement, and some clothes on a line, but that was it.

"A wagon each, almost" Tommy uttered, lighting his cigarette as him and his sister Ada approached the settlement. They'd given Georgia and her people a piece of Shelby land for them to stay, until Aberama's killer was found and brought to his daughter's justice. "There are six of them, and four wagons"

"I can see that. Is there a couple amongst them? Siblings?" Ada asked, rightly convinced that Tommy had done his usual, thorough research on those people, like he did with everyone, especially people whom he settled inside his own properties.

"I was led to believe there is a pair of twins within the group, but that's all I know" Tommy responded, looking around, expecting for someone to appear before he kicked down the closest door, and find Gigi Gold by his own means.

"You're early" a voice said, somewhere in front of them. A second later, a tall young man emerged from the back of a van, sporting a top hat and a tuxedo. Why he had decided to wear such formal clothes for the occasion, they did not know, but it would soon become obvious that none of the participants in that particular enterprise ccared much for what others thought. If anything, the way they looked, and the way they dressed, was the least of anyone's concerns when the band came round somewhere.

"Yes, we are, but just five minutes. You reckon Gigi can see us now?" Ada enquired, clutching her handbag and parasol, which she'd taken with her as a ready-made weapon. "She's expecting us"

"Gigi! Gigi, there are some people here to see you, lass" the youth shouted, walking up to one of the smaller wagons and pounding on the door. "She most likely knows you're here, just can't be arsed to get up, if I'm being honest"

"Oh, that's..."Ada started, but Gigi herself emerged from her mobile home and stomped down the two steps, her heavy boots covered in mud.

"Wasn't sleeping. And you really are early" Gigi agreed, walking up to the two Shelbies and shaking their hands. The dress she wore as different than the one she had on when they had first met, but it had one thing in common with the other: the sleeves were too long, reaching the girl's knuckles. Her hair was also different, simply because it was now all the same colour, having lost the red that stained the tips. Even for someone who was used to deal in violence, the realization that Gigi Gold had entered his house with fresh blood dripping from her hair and clothes made Tommy a little bit sick to the stomach. "I can make some tea, but it will take time"

"No tea, thank you. We won't be long" Tommy announced, following Gigi to her wagon, and taking a seat on the cramped space. The girl didn't have much to her name, but the wagon was clearly made for one person, and not three, including one grown man. When the door was closed, it was mildly comfortable, and warm as well, not to mention dry.

"Why did the two of you come? I told you that I would negotiate with Ada, and we came to an agreement. I won't violate the terms and conditions of it, nor will I allow you to escape them" Gigi asserted, sitting on what seemed to be a makeshift bed, and getting rid of her muddy boots before crossing her legs.

"Georgia, we don't intend on giving up before we find out who betrayed us" Tommy countered, taking off his cap and flattening his hair. "There is more at stake for us than there is for you. I can't allow the people who killed your father to remain on the loose"

"We're doing everything we can to answer your questions" Ada confirmed, a little less at ease than her brother seemed to be. "I don't know if you know, but our aunt Polly was engaged to your father, and she too is in great pain. She needs closure"

"Yeah, we knew that" Georgia sighed, her shoulders dropping. "I guess you could say dad had his favourite... and it was never me, or my sisters. But he did send a letter every once in a while" she confessed, surprising her guests, none of them expecting her to display any type of vulnerability, through the exposure of that bit of her private life. It was clear that she wasn't as young as she had seemed at first sight, not a child, but a girl of at least eighteen. Not only that, but it was sadly evident that she hadn't received much love, or known much comfort.

"I don't think he was ever the same after Bonnie was killed" Ada agreed, biting the inside of her lower lip, a habit she had picked up as a girl. "If he didn'tlove Polly, I think that he wouldn't have survived it"

"I'm sure he wouldn't. Mind you, I didn't mean he didn't love me, I think he did. But I turned out too much like him, my sisters turned out too much like my mother, and Bonnie was the only one who was special, who could be more than... have children, or..."

"Or be a gun for hire" Tommy completed, stating clearly why he had gone to the camp. It wasn't a negotiation he intended, it was business. It was always business, when it came down to it, and this was no exception.

"Is that what you think I do?" Gigi asked, the shadow of a giggle flourishing on her lips. "Kill people for money?"

"Not just me. The whole of Wales knows it" Tommy scoffed, interested in seeing how she would deny what was all over the news as she did as much as show herself in Swansea or surrounding villages.

"You're wrong. I don't take money"

"What do you take, then?" he asked in return, crossing his arms. "What do you want?"

"What do you want, Thomas? I'd need to know that, before I issue the invoice" Gigi chuckled, playing with the hem of her dress, and picking on a random scab on her knee.

"I need..." he said, producing a list from his pocket and handing it over to Gigi. "...these men dead. They all live near here, so they shouldn't be hard to find. Make sure you leave quite a mess, so that the message can get to the appropriate people"

"And what have they done to deserve this?" Gigi asked, reading the list slowly, and turning the paper around to see if it continued.

"Do you need to know?" Tom enquired, releasing a good deal of smoke from his cigarette. "Is that part of the invoice?"

"It is, actually. I don't know what you've been told, but I don't take money. I just want to know whether the people I'm gettind rid of deserve to be killed with my methods" Georgia simply informed, pulling her hair over her shoulder.

"These men are associated with the Billy Boys, who killed your brother Bonnie" Ada explained, pointing out the list. "They came down from Scotland to be at hand, should they be needed. We want then dead, and we want you to do it, so that you can see we're serious when we say we'll find your dad's killer, or killers"

"Like a peace offering? The plot of land was enough" Gigi laughed, shrugging emphatically. "I appreciate it. I'll see what I can do, alright? Any deadline?"

"No, no deadline. Take your time" Ada encouraged, unable to conceal the slight sparkle in her eyes at the thought of Gigi Gold maiming and killing bad people. One day, the day would come when Aberama Gold's killers would be brought to the same executioner, who would punish those who had broken Polly Gray.

#peaky blinders #fanfic #fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby #ada shelby

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jq37 · 4 years

Text

The Report Card – Fantasy High Sophomore Year Ep 4

Skipper Thistlespring and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

We pick back up at The Swan’s Little Parade where rich people shenanigans are taking place. Gorgug breaks from the group to try and call Zelda. When she doesn’t answer, he leaves the saddest, sweetest apology voicemail ever. Lou breaks. Siobhan breaks. I break.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group gameplans. Adaine pushes back against the idea that they have to talk to Aelwyn. Her parents are also an option and Aelwyn is not a good person, no matter how hot Fabian is for her. They also check out the guest book from the hotel and see that Bill Seacaster has stayed there several times, always right after a Garthy O’Brien (they see that it happened a bunch while they were in jail and it was probably in conjunction with when Bill was supplying palimpsests). Fabian recognizes the name as a pirate and Cathilda knows they run the Gold Gardens which is a floating pirate casino/brothel.

Kristen tries to release Gorthalax but just confirms that, because of the curse, doing it without messing up Gorthalax is gonna be tough.

Sandra-Lynn goes to get Gorgug while Fig decides to careen the campaign into Crazytown and make herself Empress for Life of the same. She disguises herself as an old lady and tries to drop off a note giving her phone number as the new number of the cop she impersonated last episode (Detective Decker) so she can send a fully grown cop texts that would def get him Chris Hansen’d irl. Brennan decides that if she’s gonna keep making beds, she should probably lie in one of them for once and comes for her entire life in the funniest scene of the episode. No recap I could give can do it justice(links to clips here: x, x). Just know it ends with Fig running away and ditching her phone in a lake, which could very possibly have plot consequences if she forgets to replace her phone before she’s in a tight spot where it would be helpful and the absolute dumbest/funniest reason for a character death (I want to note that she did replace her phone technically, but with a huge, old, brick phone from Adaine’s jacket that can’t be as useful as an actual cell).

ANYWAY

Tracker creates a Moon Haven in the van which is basically like a dope pillow fort with the Sanctuary spell cast on it and TARDIS bigger-on-the-inside spatial mechanics. Once they’re inside the Moon Haven, Ragh finally feels safe to tell them what he knows--which he does telepathically via Adaine and the message spell to make everything extra safe. Here’s a rundown of what he tells them:

He saw Kalina on the night of prom after the big fight. She was talking to Jace (the sorcery “teacher”) and an elven woman who looked like Adaine in black robes--Adaine confirmed with a picture that it was her mother.

After being healed by Porter, Ragh started walking home and was stopped by Kalina who said she would kill his mom if he told anyone what he saw.

Ragh’s mom Lydia is also a half-orc barbarian. She was on a mission in the Red Waste (where the 7 Maidens have their Sophomore Year quest) and they found a soul gem that was leaking something bad. She put it in her chest to contain the evil but at the cost of her health. She’s now extremely sick and in a permanent, medically-induced rage to keep her alive. She refuses medical treatment because no one can ensure the evil won’t be released if they remove the gem.

His mom fucking slaps.

So that’s all deeply worrying. Adaine invites Ragh and his mom to live with them in the Haunted House and Fig offers to give them Dr. Asha’s number. Gorgug discovers the Van can become a boat which is convenient for the pirate-y things they have to do (the Golden Gardens is on the way to Falinel so they decide to stop there first). Fig has a heart to heart with Gilear while Adaine and Sandra-Lynn take first watch outside since the Moon Haven can only hold nine people. Adaine has to roll a wisdom save because she’s outside of the Haven’s protection and, even on a 16, the music goes all scary and she feels that something is in the tent with her outside. Something humanoid and her size with its knees to its chest. She senses that if she sees its face, something will happen to her and, instead of looking at it, she calls for Sandra-Lynn. By the time she shows up, the thing is gone. Fig assures Adaine that she’s not crazy or seeing things and, based on Adaine’s description, they’re able to deduce that it wasn’t Baron or Kalina.

In the morning, Gorgug is pretty bummed and asks everyone to call him Skipper. Kristen is very down and Fabian is very not. They discuss whether they should tell all of the information from Ragh to the 7 Maidens (no) and whether Gorgug should call Zelda (yes). They drive into the sea. Gorgug finally talks to Zelda who is not happy with him for the ghosting and unintentional thoughtlessness. She’s even less happy with him when she realizes he forgot to get the generator they needed to stay in touch long distance. They’re breaking up. Do I mean relationship-wise or phone-wise? You don’t know? Well that makes two of us (Thanks, I Hate It).

They’re at sea for two days and then make it to the floating pirate shipwreck city of Leviathan. Pirate adventures next week, y’all!

Detention

Fig for Trying to Seduce ANOTHER Middle-Aged Man

Listen, I’ll stop putting her here for this when she stops doing this. Not to mention, she invented a whole ass person (HILDA HILDA?????) when she’s just been told that nightmare monsters are being generated from lies. Fig, my girl. Ms. Faeth. Please. I’m begging you. Please.

Honor Roll

All of the Adults for Stepping Up

Every single adult in this episode was on fire. Fig confided in Gilear and he stepped up to the plate with a This-Is-So-Serious-I’m-Going-To-Use-Your-Actual-Full-Name, speech. Sandra-Lynn showed Adaine how to do some ranger stuff and jumped in to save her when she cried out. Cathilda was ready with warm milk and cookies she somehow was able to make in the van as soon as Adaine needed them. Sandra-Lynn also had a heart to heart with Fig and even Gorthalax, who’s still trapped in the ruby, gave Fig a spell slot back. And, of course, Ragh’s mom slaps.

Random Thoughts

Adaine and Fabian both being uber rich but being on the opposite ends of the rich people spectrum is hilarious. Adaine is a “Sleeping in a van? I’ve heard of that but I’ve never gotten to do it. This will be fun!” Rich Kid and Fabian is a “No turn down service? Hard pass,” Rich Kid.

I was happy that they brought Ragh along for comedy reasons but who knew he was gonna be so chock full of backstory and important story beats? Like, every good GM has a way of making whatever story path that was chosen seem like the only way the story could have gone and I’m sure that whoever was picked, Brennan would have made that seem like the obvious and essential choices but I’m very happy they picked Ragh. Him talking about how much he loves his mom was so adorable! I love that he’s a big, good, dumb boy now and I’m happy they invited him to live at the Haunted House. That’s def gonna be good for some shenanigans (also love that Adaine’s only stipulation was that he had to be nice to Zayn and he was so eager to agree).

Insane Ally Move of the Game: Deciding that Kristen genuinely doesn’t know Gilear used to be lunch lad at their school. Is Kristen even on the same plane of existence as everyone else. And then, later, “I worry about Gilear.” Do you really???

I totally forgot that Gilear was not only an elven diplomat but also a full on actual counselor. Makes it even wilder that he lost the job to Jawbone. Also, while we’re talking about him, I said we were gonna inevitably gonna get some more color on Gilear this season and we saw some of that in this ep when Adaine uses detect thoughts on him (which, btw, seems like a horribly invasive thing that people do very casually in this world) and we see that he gave up his career for Sandra-Lynn and then was wrecked when she cheated on him. Really puts a melancholy shade over his hilarious ineptness.

Another thing I figured we’d see soon and that we’re starting to see is Adaine speaking up on Aelwyn. Two times this ep she tried to steer the group away from Aelwyn and seemed more serious than her usual trash talk. As excited as I am for pirate adventures, I want to get to Falinel ASAP to see how this shakes out.

Also, on the mom front, wild that we found out that Ragh has a super dope mom in the same scene Adaine took another L and found out that her mom is also involved in this shadiness. Black robes are never a good sign. But I will say, just based on the story beats we’ve gotten, I’m not totally sold on the idea that she’s 100% bad--or at least that she doesn’t care for Adaine at all. I’m wondering if she wasn’t at school trying to find Adaine (possibly among other things).

“Every time you have sex it’s a gamble. You could lose your heart.”/”What happened to you on tour?”

Gorgug trying to let a full sized griffon land on his arm is hilarious. I love that. He’s so wholesome and dumb.

I love that when Emily was doing her Hilda-Hilda nonsense , turned into Detective Decker, and ran past the police house precinct, Lou was the only person who was on her wavelength and understood what she was trying to do while everyone else was like????

We find out in this ep that Van can control all the auxiliary functions of the van but not the actual driving, which is important to know before a sticky situation. On a more personal note, we find out that he was originally a planetar (second most powerful D&D angel) of Elysium, specializing in harmony, relaxation, and chill vibes and he got dumped and kicked out of heaven for sleeping through a call to battle.

We also get the cursed image of a van with hands which I knew was gonna be the shirt and lo and behold.

“Fuck Me.”/”When.” Y’all are the worst.

I love that Brennan mentioned Porter in Ragh’s flashback, fully knowing it was gonna trigger Emily.

Fig’s new plan is to get all of her parents in a throuple and I don’t even know where to begin with that tbh so I won’t.

@voxfantasma made a comment last week that Sandra-Lynn very well could have seen Kalina which is why she can she her in the photo--which is an offhand comment I made when I was talking about the rules of the photo last week--and Ragh’s reaction to the photo is making me move this theory back up to the top spot. I still wish they would show the photo to more people so we’d have more data for this.

I loved Fig tossing Fabian a bardic inspiration for a compliment even though he didn’t really need it. I also love that she has a rider in her rockstar contract necessitating gogurt be at all her shows for Gilear.

Adaine paranoidly casting water breathing on everyone at the slightest hint that they may have to go near water. Our girl is learning from the mistakes of the last oracle.

With the gang facing off against the Nightmare King and Brennan’s description of the thing in Adaine’s tent as being humanoid, about her side, and sitting in a sort of defensive way, I’m wondering it what it was was a manifestation of her own anxiety or something along those lines. Of course, it could just be a normal ass monster. Sometimes the scariest thing is your inner turmoil and sometimes it’s just a monster trying to bite your head off.

We also learn that Cathilda has a super wild adventurer’s life before she settled down to be a maid--so she knows what she’s missing and she’s fine with it--and also that she is paid ridiculously well, which makes me feel better about what’s going on with her. Also, her moment with Adaine and the cookies was so sweet. My notes for that scene say, “Adaine loves Cathilda and so do I.”

I loved Murph and Riz going equally Pepe Silvia trying to anagram out Garthy O’Brien (which is also what I was doing, especially since Brennan specifically spelled out the name). Cheers to Murph/Riz and Siobhan/Adaine trying to single handedly keep the story on track--both in and out of character.

There’s a part in this ep where Adaine Ray of Frosts Fig who immediately Hellish Rebukes her and that’s truly the kind of step-sister shenanigans I want to see from them as much as possible please and thank you. Also, like I said before, it was very sweet of Fig to reassure Adaine that she wasn’t just seeing things in the tent. Her catfishing middle aged men aside, she can be very empathetic when she wants to be.

Adaine cast (or tried to cast Friends) on the thing in her tent. And I think it’s very telling about her character that that’s the spell she would cast and not an offensive one. Not that messing w/ someone’s brain is a super chill thing to do or anything, but I think, “Maybe I can calm whoever this is and talk to them and we can get some information,” is a much more measured reaction than maybe, “Let’s blast this thing to kingdom come and ask questions later.”

“Man van is a boat, my boat is a van.”

Brennan lets Adaine roll w/ advantage to convince the Hangman to come with them on the Van (which he still hates) because she said, “Please” really cute which is the kind of arbitrary DM fiat that I love.

Adaine: We should tell them unless we’re being graded on a curve. (Savage.)

“Fig, she’s a maid. She’s not allowed to lie.”

All the skipper talk this ep got the Gilligan’s Island theme stuck in my head (never seen an ep but my mom watches it sometimes) so the next day I was getting dressed going “With Fabian, and the skipper too, the oracle, the PI,” to the GI theme song. Also, did not know skipper and captain were the same title until Fabian got all upset and I looked it up. Yet another piece of information I know because of some game (along with what a panacea is (Dragon Quest 9) and where the CDC is (Pandemic)).

Gorgug, being offered a virgin daiquiri: No thanks, I’m driving. (I’ve said this before: Zac low key has the best comic timing of anyone.)

When Riz is angraming, one of the things he ends up with is something about a “night yorb” which Brennan decided is a real thing that both the Hangman and the Van are very wary about. Having the Hangman constantly being like, “SPEAK NOT OF THE NIGHT YORB!” and the Van being like, “Seriously, don’t fuck with the night york,” was so funny and such nonsense. I can’t wait for the night yorb mini boss fight that has to happen now because of the rule of funny.

Gorgug comes down from his call with Zelda and everyone except for Fabian (and probably Ragh who cannon-balls off the boat w/ Fabian and they both have to be rescued by Sandra-Lynn) knows exactly what happened immediately. Aw, buddy. One of my favorite things about media where you have kids saving the world is you have relationship drama and also the world is ending and it all feels equally high stakes. I find that so funny but also it feels very representative of what high school was like, or at least what it felt like (minus the literal apocalypse, obv. Or maybe not. Idk what was going on at your high school).

Adaine continues lending out Boggy to anyone who needs him.

Also, Gorgug tries to build a cell tower with driftwood and parts from Adaine’s jacket. It’s not going super hot.

Both Adaine and Riz are podcast nerds and listen to This Solesian Life. All checks out. Their friendship is underrated.

“I’m feeling really bad and my van is a boat.”

“I was gonna be straight edge except for drugs,” gives me “Sober salad” energy.

The whole discussion about Kristen getting tracker silly putty for her birthday.

The Van was serving some serious Ned Flanders energy along with the Owen Wilson energy this episode.

Brennan does pretty good whale noises.

Only crit this episode is Fig with a nat 20 insight to know Gorgug’s conversation with Zelda did not go well. Which is something she’d crit on.

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #fantasy high #fantasy high spoilers #fantasy high live #report card

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paranormal-playgr0und · 4 years

Text

The Lizzie Borden Playground

Introduction:

Hello Ghoul Friends! This week’s report is on the infamous Lizzie Borden house!

It’s Pride month, y’all (it may be the end of Pride month, but let’s go out with a chop, shall we?) In the spirit of Pride month, I chose the Lizzie Borden house due to one of the theories surrounding what happened there in 1892… there’s a gay theory (meant to say great, but gay works too), but what’d you expect?

Without further ado, put on some good music, and let’s get into the report!

The Report:

On the morning of August 4th, 1892, in Fall River Massachusetts, 32-year-old Lizzie Borden found her father dead on the sofa, with 11 blows to the head from what is believed to be an ax. The maid, Bridget “Maggie” Sullivan, heard Lizzie’s cry when she found the body.

“Maggie, come down! Come down quick; Father’s dead; Somebody came in and killed him.”

Maggie is reported to either be washing windows or taking a nap during the time of the murder, it is unknown which she was doing. Maggie heard nothing from where she was on the third floor.

Lizzie was in the backyard. Lizzie heard a loud thud and groaning coming from the house, and in curiosity, decided to check it out. That is when she found her father’s body.

Lizzie asked Maggie to go across the street and fetch the doctor. Maggie returned with a neighbor. Then Maggie asked about Lizzie’s stepmother, Abby. According to Maggie’s testimony, this is what Lizzie replied with.

“Oh, Maggie! I am almost sure I heard her come in. Go upstairs and see if she’s there.”

Maggie and the neighbor found the body of Abby Borden, face down in the upstairs guest bedroom. She had also been struck with an ax- and had been struck 18 times to the head.

(Pic cred https://www.pinterest.com/pin/557883472563944808/)

Shortly after, Lizzie Borden was put on trial for the murder of Andrew and Abby Borden. She was put on trial due to the odd circumstances behind the murder, and plausible motives.

One motive was that Lizzie’s father was very wealthy, but lived frugally. The Borden’s lived off a diet of mainly mutton, however, Andrew’s net worth at the time of his death is an estimated 10 million in today’s economy. It was also reported that Andrew Borden sexually abused Lizzie, adding to her motive.

Another possible motive was Lizzie’s relationship with her stepmother, Abby. Five years before the murder, Lizzie and Abby had a falling-out, which in turn broke their relationship. The fight was over a house Andrew Borden had purchased for Lizzie’s half-sister, rather than a house for Lizzie and her sister, Emma.

During the trial, Lizzie and Maggie’s answers were inconsistent and changed every time they talked about the murder. Maggie reported that Lizzie was seen wearing an unstained blue dress when she discovered the body of Andrew Borden.

Three days after the murder, a friend of Lizzie’s reported that Lizzie had burned a dress with “old paint stains” on it. The murder weapon was never found.

A pharmacist reported that Lizzie had tried to buy a poison shortly before the murder, but this testimony was dismissed. In the end, there was no physical evidence that placed Lizzie as the murderer, and she was ruled as not guilty.

“Lizzie Borden took an ax,

and gave her mother forty whacks.

And when she saw what she had done,

she gave her father forty-one.”

(a creepy playground nursery rhyme in the spirit of the Lizzie Borden case)

One theory is the uncle of Lizzie Borden, John Morse, killed Andrew and Abby Borden. He was not seen until 12 pm, about an hour after the bodies were discovered. He claimed to be visiting a sick relative during the murder and was just down the road. He also claimed to be with the town doctor at the time, but the doctor was actually at the Borden house, looking at the bodies of Mr. and Mrs. Borden. Abby Borden was found in the bedroom Morse had slept in the night before.

His believed motive was the Borden’s financial status, Morse was the only person who mentioned and knew about Andrew’s will. John Morse was a butcher, a key detail considering that it was later speculated a meat cleaver could have been used during the murder.

The last theory is the reason why I chose this case in the spirit of Pride month. Recently, a conspiracy had emerged saying that it was possible that Maggie and Lizzie had been romantically involved, and killed Mr. and Mrs. Borden in order to keep things a secret. Maggie and Lizzie could have easily teamed up for the murder, as they were the only two people on the property while the murder took place. Both their testimonies are missing details and make little sense, but when put together the testimonies start to add up.

Lizzie also was said to have a crush on an actress later in life, a fact that explains why Lizzie’s sister, Emma moved out of their home. Neither of the Borden sisters married.

It’s worth noting that a film was made about the Borden murders, titled “Lizzie”. The film focused on the lesbian relationship between Lizzie and the Maggie.

After the acquittal, Lizzie and her sister Emma inherited the Borden family fortune, shortly thereafter buying a large house in a wealthy district of Fall River.

The Haunts:

(Pic cred: Chicago Tribune / Contributor/ Getty Images ; https://www.history.com/news/9-things-you-may-not-know-about-lizzie-borden)

After the murders, activity rose in the Lizzie Borden house. Activity occurs in all corners of the house, but the bedrooms and where the Borden’s died, seems to see an influx of apparitions, voices, and odd occurrences.

The most haunted areas are Lizzie’s old bedroom, the places where Andrew and Abby died, the master bedroom, and Maggie’s quarters. Throughout the house, many people experience a dreadful feeling, and some people even experience headaches.

The staff at the Lizzie Borden Bed and Breakfast claim that once a month, fire alarms will go off without reason at around 3 am. 3 am is widely known as “Dead Time,” or “Bewitching Hour” in the paranormal community, because most phenomenon are reported to happen at 3 am.

K2 meters, a ghost hunting equipment that reads electro-magnetic frequencies (the type of radio waves that come from cell phones, electronics, and ghosts), have read high amounts of energy in the spots where Andrew and Abby were killed.

Apparitions have been spotted at the Lizzie Borden house, but mostly by digital and polaroid camera. Most of the apparitions appear in mirrors around the house, sometimes visible to the naked eye.

Abby Borden is believed to be the woman seen and heard at the Borden house. People report hearing a woman weeping at night, and shoes will move on their own. A floral scent is also smelled throughout the home, and is thought to be Abby Borden walking around. The apparition of an older woman wearing a nightgown is said to appear to guests, and she will tuck them in at night.

Andrew Borden was a frugal man, in the master bedroom is a small pile of change people leave for him. It is reported that taking even a penny can result in getting physically scratched. Not much else is heard or seen from Andrew Borden.

With the murder that happened, it’s almost ironic that the front door of the Lizzie Borden house will swing wide open if not properly locked at night. Other doors open and close throughout the house, and footsteps were once reported upstairs.

Random power surges will make the lights flicker on and off, and even burn out. One power surge had a guest running for her car when the surge burst out the lightbulb in her room (and only her room…).

In the cemetery where the Borden family is buried, people report seeing flashes of light and screaming- which come from the Borden plot. These occurrences are the most noted hauntings (and possibly the only documented hauntings) at the Oak Grove Cemetery in Fall River, Massachusetts.

(Author note) Hey ghoul friends! While writing this report, especially this portion of the report- I started to feel an uneasy feeling in my room. It felt like there was someone else is my room with me, right behind me, watching me write over my shoulder. I was intrigued, and so I went to grab my K2 meter. I come back into my room, and the feeling’s almost completely vanished. (Someone is definitely staring at me right now). Anyways, in the middle of my room, the K2 meter lit up- and quickly blinked to the middle before vanishing completely. (I swear I heard someone whisper into my ear, my god- I’m listening to music by the way, Break my Stride by Matthew Wilder, around 2:20 in the song I heard the whisper in my right ear) There are no electronics in the middle of my room, no possibly explanation, and a reading like that hasn’t happened since. For context, my house is haunted, but nothing like this has happened… which is interesting. I now have the K2 meter on and next to me while I finish the report. Anyways, on with the report!

The Re-Cap:

The Lizzie Borden playground has two notable kids. They’ve claimed all part of the playground, from the swings to the monkey bars, everywhere is Andrew’s and Abby’s territory.

Andrew claims he’s a ninja, because not many people can find him- it’s almost like he’s invisible. Andrew will come out if you take a rock from his collection displayed in the tunnel. Andrew will find you before you find him, often spying on grown-ups and big kids who venture into the Lizzie Borden playground. If you really want to find Andrew, you need to look in the right place above the slide- you’ll see him.

Abby is Andrew’s girlfriend. She’s seen more than Andrew. She likes to pick the flowers that grow around the swings, and most often you can smell her flowers before you see her. She’s more welcoming than Andrew, not afraid to interact with the countless big kids and grown-ups to who come to the playground. Abby’s favorite place to be is on top of the monkey bars. If she likes you, she’ll welcome you; if she doesn’t, you won’t see her.

There’s a few small holes in the roof on top of the playground, Abby and Andrew don’t seem to mind, but other people do. Once a month, Andrew and Abby will hide a walkie-talkie somewhere in the playground and play loud music until someone finds the walkie-talkie and turns it off.

Abby and Andrew have a ritual before they leave the playground for the night- Andrew places a tall stick in front of the tunnel, and Abby and Andrew won’t leave until it’s in the perfect spot. Everyone knows not to touch the stick, if they move it- it will find it’s way back to its original position.

On the basketball court, people claim that they hear Andrew and Abby arguing, along with their friend Lizzie, who sometimes makes an appearance at the park. At night, grown-ups have reported seeing Andrew and Abby playing around with their flashlight on the basketball court.

A lot of big kids have been to the Lizzie Borden Playground. The big kids like teasing Abby and Andrew with a playground nursery rhyme, in hopes that they’ll come out and show themselves.

“Lizzie Borden took an ax,

and gave her mother forty whacks.

And when she saw what she had done,

she gave her father forty-one.”

A notable amount of grown-ups venture to the playground, it’s in a convenient location and it’s something to do in Fall River.

The Lizzie Borden Playground remains the sole hangout of Abby and Andrew Borden.

#paranormal #LizzieBorden #Paranormalplayground #fallriver #ghoststories #ghost #playground #lgbtq #lgbtq community #axmurder #pride month

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drunklander · 5 years

Text

Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 409

This episode did so many things right! And it did so many things in ways that made me ragey with how easily things could have been done right if they just admitted this part of the book is trash!

Dive under the cut if you want, but no one’s making you so don’t @ me if you don’t agree...

They Sansa Stark’ed Bree when she was being raped and now they’re Sansa Stark’ing her in the aftermath. This isn’t about fucking Lizzie, show. This never should have even happened but now we’re stuck accepting the shit choice you made.

Yes, Lizzie causes a fucking dumb af thing later. But right now it looks like they’re making the aftermath of Bree’s rape about someone else.

Seriously, this is not a good show.

But props where they’re due, Sophie has gotten significantly better at acting this season. And last week and this week she’s actually been good enough to not take me out of the scene when I’m watching. So yay for that?

Oh fuck off, Roger. You’re still the worst. But this show appears to not care that you’re the worst and wants us to ship you with Bree. Which makes me side-eye the fuck out of the writers. Because wtaf.

This show gives me whiplash. Like are we supposed to watch the current episode (whatever the current one is) through the lens of whatever the last episode was? Or are we supposed to throw out whatever happened in the last episode and just take the current one at face value? Because those two things are usually not compatible.

Guys I swear I liked some parts of this episode, but Outlander is such a shit show/shitshow at this point that it’s basically impossible to come away with an overall positive feeling. At least for me.

Oh, Lizzie’s been ill? Does Lizzie have malaria? Because clearly it’s important to shoehorn in book nonsense when it doesn’t make sense and isn’t shown in the show. FFS.

Someone hire a new showrunner. For the love of fuck.

Anyone else hoping Roger is never heard from again after he sails off with the Gloriana? No? Just me? Fuck this show for assuming we’ll ship a toxic couple just because it’s book canon.

Book!Roger is mostly crap too, tbh.

Literalol at Bree being like oh, some rando lady cut into a dude in a theater? Yep, that’s my mom.

Did we really have to have Jamie peeing? Fucking really? Le sigh.

It’s Matt fucking I-Love-The-Books-Even-Though-They-Are-Mostly-Shit-Praise-Me-For-My-Copy-And-Paste-Skills Roberts. Of Course this is verbatim from the books. Ugh.

“I hadna though of you as grown, except I literally had photos of you looking exactly like you do now. So I know exactly what you look like.”

Jamie has seen Bree’s fucking picture as an adult. And with Claire, Murtagh, Lord John, Willie and even fucking Geillis having come back into his life unexpectedly, it makes no sense that he wouldn’t recognize her.

I hate that this is straight from the book.

It’s well acted and shit, but that doesn’t mean it’s good.

Everything after him not recognizing her is great though. Basically I’m here for the hug.

Balfe and Skelton own this episode.

Jamie being personally offended by the printer’s shoddy work on their obituary gives me life.

Oh, apparently they have settlers on the Ridge now? Cool. Cool cool cool.

Young Ian being like “yeah, I’m used to your absurdity, Auntie Claire” is my everything.

I really want him and Bree to bond. But not have him do the creepy proposal thing. Please cut that, show.

Claire is like “are you fucking kidding me, Roger bounced after one fight?!”

Claire knowing Roger is a twat makes me hope she’s the one who rips him a new one when they eventually get him back, tbh. Because yeah, Roger is a fucking asshat.

Own that you fucked up and stay to make it right, fuckwad. Don’t...be you, apparently.

Fuck them for making Bree go through an unnecessary rape and fuck them for making her feel extra awful because Claire has already replaced the ring she was raped over.

I know I have to accept that they’re following the book but ffs, the show we could have had would have been so much more interesting than the show we’re getting.

“Because the books” is literally my least favorite reason for the show doing anything. If it’s in the book and it’s included in the show, it should be because it’s a good story, not “because it’s in the book.”

These scenes with Jamie and Claire make me miss Jamie and Claire. They’ve been reduced to like a fraction of what they were this season, and as much as I love the cutesy shit, I miss the passionate Frasers I fell in love with.

That being said, I 100% would totes watch a webseries about the Frasers’ annual Fire Day Funtimes. But for real, the fire is in January? Frasers. Just throw out your tree the day after Christmas instead of keeping it too long so it gets all dried out and burns your house down.

“Look at our beautiful green screen, daughter!” “I love this green screen! It’s a green screen I could only imagine from my history books!”

Claire saying Jamie is used to random references about the future when Bree feels bad about her Daniel Boone tangent is my everything.

“WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?” Y’ALL I LOVE THIS LINE SO FUCKING MUCH. BREE HAS FAMILY WHO LOVE HER EVEN THOUGH THEY’VE NEVER MET HER AND THEY’RE NOT GOING TO USE HER AS A PAWN TO HURT ANYONE ELSE AND I REALLY HOPE AT SOME POINT WE GET MORE BREE AND MURTAGH.

MURTAGH BEING A PROUD PAPA BEAR ABOUT BREE IS MY FAVORITE THING IN THE WORLD.

The scene at dinner is all I ever wanted. Fuck plot sometimes. This scene of a fucking family eating together and telling embarrassing yet endearing stories is fucking perfection. I mean, sure Dougal’s family is a convenient plot device, but whatever. I AM HERE FOR MURTZ TELLING EMBARRASSING STORIES ABOUT JAMIE, AND BREE AND YOUNG IAN LOL’ING ABOUT IT AND CLAIRE BEING LIKE O RLY YOU COUSIN KISSER YOU.

I need Bree to meet Fergus and Marsali. Fergus is the OG Fraser kid and knows what it’s like to have parents who aren’t biologically his but are 100% loving regardless. And has seen Jamie and Claire at their best and at their worst and is literally an amazing character witness who can tell Bree what’s up. And Marsali is not just another young mother who can relate on that level, but also has seen a bad marriage and can empathize with Bree’s childhood. Like Marsali saw Jamie in a shitty marriage where he tried his hardest and failed to make Laoghaire happy. And Bree saw Claire try to do the same with Fred. And Marsali was hesitant with Claire at first because she loves her mom even though her mom is a crazy bitch. And Bree is hesitant with Jamie even though she should def realize by now that Fred was straight up abusive trash.

I just need Bree and Fergus and Marsali to meet and bond, ok.

I was 100% expecting someone to make a future reference as soon as Young Ian left and I thought it would be Murtz but yay that it’s Claire historically fangirling.

But ugh, fuck the writers for including Bree’s rape. Red flags for days that she isn’t fangirling over G-Dub.

Lizzie has malaria because “the book” but they don’t ever actually show her being sick. Because it’s not actually important to the story. Fuck them for always including extraneous shit like this when it doesn’t matter with the story they’re telling.

“Daddy knew. That you came back. I saw the obituary on his desk years ago. I didn’t realize what it was at the time, but...I remembered it recently when I found it again myself. He knew you came back to Jamie. But I still went to his grave and said he was my hero. Even though I rightfully kicked Roger to the curb for doing the same thing. Because it’s impossible for the writers of this show to admit that Fred is trash.”

ETA -- An anon pointed out that she said that at what was probs Frank’s funeral since the grave was fresh and didn’t know anything about time travel yet. But still. I stand by what I said after that episode aired, that line was dumb for other reasons too.

Seriously though, Bree ditches Roger for not telling her about Claire dying in the past, but Frank, who knew about it and chose to not tell Claire about it, is her fucking hero? Fuck all the way off, show. Like seriously, she’s telling fucking Claire that Fred knew like it’s not the same fucking reason why she sent Fred Jr packing. I cannot even.

Bree better fucking get there eventually. Because holy shit the fact that she doesn’t get how awful Frank is at this point makes me want to hate her.

It’s ok to think a parent is trash, Bree. You owe them fucking nothing. And if they try to make you feel like you do, that’s just more proof that they’re garbage.

And don’t @ me with shit about how he was always nice to her so she didn’t notice. You fucking notice when someone in your life is shit to someone else in your life even if they’re nice to you. You fucking notice.

And if somehow you don’t notice and someone else says they were epically shitty to them, guess what, you should believe that person. Because no one makes this shit up for lols. Standing by shitty people just because they weren’t shitty to you specifically makes you a shitty person.

Ugh. I hate this show and the people who make it sometimes.

Claire’s face when she realizes that not only did Frank emotionally abuse her and use Bree as a weapon against her for 20 years, but also *knew* that she would go back to the past and die and didn’t tell her is fucking heartbreaking.

“Frank was an astute man.” Interesting way to say “Frank was an abusive piece of shit.”

I get that she’s still trying to protect Bree from the truth about Freddy boy, but there comes a point where my girl deserves to speak her fucking truth and let her loved ones know the pain she went through.

“I can see why you had to come back to Jamie.” Really. Can you. Because if you still have Frank up on a pedestal as your hero, I really don’t think you actually get it yet. Don’t make me go back to hating you, Bree. Wake the fuck up, you’re smarter than this.

Seriously, each and every person on this show who has ever done press where they’ve claimed that Frank is a “good” man deserves to be slapped upside the head. He is awful. He is fucking absolutely, irredeemably awful. And anyone who claims he’s a good guy or that his relationship with Claire is #goals is a misogynist piece of shit.

For real, shitty choices by the writers room aside, Balfe and Skelton are so fucking good in this episode.

I’m calling bullshit that Bonnet would give Roger gemstones just because he asked. But I also don’t give a fuck about anything to do with this part of Roger’s story soooo... Moving on.

Montage!

Subtlety has never been this show’s strong suit but jfc, they’re so fucking heavy-handed with the “they’re something up with Bree” stuff this episode.

Jamie being so open about talking about Frank and letting Bree know he knows about him does so much to set him apart from the piece of shit who raised Bree. Jamie is flawed af, but he doesn’t force people to hide half of Bree’s life from her. He’s open about her truth and that’s more than Fred ever fucking did for her.

Y’all the scene with Bree, Young Ian, Murtz and Jamie at the still is fucking adorable. But only because she eventually finds out the truth about her nickname. Just tell her things in a joking manner, y’all. Bond! Be a fam!

Also the line about people calling Young Ian “Young Ian” is kinda the on the nose shit I don’t like but it’s not as egregious as the other times they’ve done it so I guess I’ll let this one slide.

Claire, same girl, we all want them to stop tiptoeing around, talking about Fred. Fred was the worst and Fred is dead. Acknowledge Fred and then fucking move on already.

Jamie looking at his sleeping kiddo makes me feel feelings.

Ok Jamie taking Bree hunting for bees is kind of my fave for so many reasons. When he takes Willie hunting, they hunt a stag. Jamie knows that Bree knows how to shoot because Frank taught her, but instead of taking her to hunt game they’d have to shoot, he takes her hunting bees. So it’s different than what she had with Frank. Because he’s actively trying to not replace the father she grew up with and clearly though undeservedly loves.

Jamie is flawed but 1000x the better man.

Don’t @ me that Fred taught her to shoot in case she went back to the past. He literally didn’t tell Claire she was going to die. He left Claire to tell Bree the truth once he died. He was a shitty, shitty, petty man.

They’re really getting their money’s worth out of that fucking eagle stock shot.

Seriously though, they should have moved the production to North Carolina.

The metaphor about the bees losing one home without any say-so to then become content where they end up is tough. Because yes, it’s what Claire did. And she thrived. But at this point for Bree, she’s not 100% open to making her new situation permanent. So she hears this and is like “ugh I guess I could make do” whereas Jamie is like “you’re so welcome here and you’ll come to love it like we love you.” And it lowkey makes me want to hug them both. Because omfg how could you not want to just hug the shit out of them in this situation. He so wants to be close to the only biological child he can acknowledge and she is so hesitant to open up to the father who gave up everything he cared about for her but who she doesn’t know from Adam. I JUST CAN’T WAIT FOR THEM TO ACTUALLY BOND A LOT NEXT SEASON.

Ok but for real, if I have to hear one more speech about how Fred is a good guy I’m gonna vomit. Jamie is giving this speech because he doesn’t fully know what Claire went through. Because last season and this season the show has never let Claire actually talk to Jamie about what it was like for her with Frank. (Also the show refuses to admit that they portrayed him as an abusive piece of shit... Which is its own problem.) There’s a passage in Drums where Claire finally makes it clear to Jamie how it was for her and I’m hoping they fucking include it because dammit, Jamie needs to know and Claire needs to say it.

WHEN JAMIE HUGS BREE AND SAYS SHE CAN CALL HIM DA AND SHE CALLS HIM DA I HAVE SO MANY FEEEEEEELINGGGGGGSSSS.

ONE OF JAMIE’S KIDDOS CALLS HIM DAAAAAAAAAA.

“She called me Da.” Y’all it was the first time any of Jamie’s kids have called him that. Fergus calls him Milord. Faith died. He never got to meet Bree as a child. He couldn’t acknowledge Willie. Marsali and Joanie call him daddy like fucking creepy weirdos. Young Ian is like a son but calls him Uncle Jamie, because that’s who he is. BUT NO ONE HAS EVER CALLED HIM DA BEFORE AND I AM SO FULL OF FEELS.

Ok the forehead snuggles are great but again, as the season goes on I really miss the passionate Frasers. Not because I want the smut. I can get smut anywhere. It’s just that their relationship is becoming so one-note and I want it to go back to being dynamic like it used to be.

Omfg I cannot with how on the nose Bree looking at the mama bird and the baby birds is. Try harder, show.

All this bullshit with Fred trying to keep the rift between Claire and her daughter like an asshole and Claire can still guess exactly what’s wrong with Bree after years apart because CLAIRE MOTHERFUCKING BEAUCHAMP IS A GOOD GODDAMN MOTHER WHO LOVES HER CHILD MORE THAN ANYTHING. I WILL FIGHT YOU ON THIS.

Claire’s face in this whole scene though. *throws awards at Balfe*

I can’t get over the what could have beens. This scene is so well acted, but I can’t stop thinking of how unnecessary the rape plotline is.

Literally half of my struggle with this show is trying to ignore all of the squandered potential and the other half of the struggle is trying to keep straight what I’m supposed to consider canon at any given moment. Is it current show canon? Past episode canon? What the writers think they’re showing even though they’re actually showing something else? Backfilled book canon? *drinks heavily*

What Bree goes through is fucking awful, but Claire feeling crushed that she wasn’t able to protect her baby is also heartbreaking. Not at the same level, by any means. But it’s still fucking a gut punch.

Oh hey, someone finally said the word rape. Fucking finally. I know that it was the characters trying to make things less awkward or painful as they talked about it before, but it also felt (to me) like the writers trying to skirt around the fact that they chose rape another character for no good reason. Glad they finally said it like it fucking is. Also, again, because I can’t say it enough, fuck them for not adapting this story line.

Rogergate is so fucking dumb I cannot.

I can’t believe they’re committing to this shit.

Can someone please put Matt in timeout and give the show to someone else for a while.

Oh hey, Claire found her old ring! The ring that doesn’t even matter anymore. Because Matt and Maril had a boner for the book ring.

Have I mentioned I don’t like their choices recently?

Ok, fucking Lizzie says she saw this shit. And Jamie’s first instinct is to fucking go berserk and keep shit from Bree and Claire. You really are going to trust a fucking rando maid without talking to Claire and Bree?! Of course.

Ain’t toxic masculinity grand.

Fucking I hate that Claire nods that she’ll keep the Bonnet detail from Jamie. No. Fuck that noise. Don’t fucking spare his fucking feelings. You fucking communicate. That’s how you live as a strong couple. Fucking communicate.

GAH.

Fuck them for now making Ian be the one who sends him into slavery.

Jamie isn’t off the hook by any stretch. Fuck that guy. Literally just going off on a dude because a fucking maid thinks she knows what’s up. I’m just saying I’m now thinking that the show’s gonna play it like it was Young Ian’s fault and he chooses to stay because he thinks it’s on him.

Can’t have our romantic lead send a guy into slavery, no one will like that. Better have the nephew we’ve had borderline fetishizing the Cherokee all season do it.

And in the process make the Cherokee/Mohawk the “bad guys.” Not the jump-to-conclusions-colonizers.

I hate Rogergate so fucking much.

Also how the fuck in the two months that Bree has been with them has she never once described what Roger looks like. Literally when anyone first starts dating someone, the first question anyone asks from like the beginning of time until now is “what’s he like and what does he look like.”

Ughhh.

*is wistful af about the angst and drama-filled less problematic show we could have gotten if the writers had the balls to admit that the back half of Drums is bad*

#*#outlander starz #outlander 4x09 #drunj!der yells about outlander #rogergate

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sweettoothshipperrotg · 5 years

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Arranged Marriage... SweetTooth AU?? :3

Well, this is what happens when I allow the plot bunnies (pun fully intended) to hold me hostage: y’all end up with a thirteen page fic. (sorry?)

Kinda long disclaimer: My brain setted this during victorian times in England, more specifically in the 1840′s London. Bunny is an army lieutenant that had been assigned to the British colonies of New South Wales (aka Australia), Toothiana is a princess from one of the many Indian states that were under indirect british rule (she still held her title as maharani but could not kick the dudes out of her region). Although I did as much research as I could to inform myself and provide argument for the fic, I apologize if you feel that I was disrespectful/misinformed in the way I depicted the characters and circumstances here. It was not my intention and I would appreciate if you can offer constructive criticism so I can improve. What I DID do is try to keep it as ambiguous as possible so although it does not directly mention anyone in particular, the idea still remains (don’t go around colonizing countries an being an asshat to people)

A/N: Whenever you see boldened and cursive text it’s because the characters are speaking a different language apart from regular English.

Ok, I’m done, I promise. ^^;

Hope you like it!

“I have been eagerly awaiting the day I could finallymeet you…and I am not disappointed. You are beautiful.”

The words that came from her fiancé’s mouth would havesent any other young girl’s heart aflutter. To Toothiana…they felt completelyhollow.

Every fiber of her soul was begging her to turn back,ran to the closest port, and sneak onto a ship that would take her far awayfrom here and closer to her beloved country. Yet she remained rooted on herspot.

The atmosphere was charged with tension, silence stretchingand making everything worse.

All eyes were on both of them, sizing, judging, and losingno detail of the interaction among the betrothed couple.

Their dark clothes and pretentious faces wereunnerving to say the least.

They thought themselves above her and her people.Fools, the lot of them.

Toothiana kept her head held high. The people who hadaccompanied her and her younger sister had instructed her on how she wassupposed to curtsy and handle herself when she met her fiancé. She refused togrant him said honor.

She was the heir to the throne of Punjam Hy Loo,daughter of Haroom and Queen Rashmi. She bowed to those worthy of it.

Her disruption of protocol sent tongues wagging; awave of poorly concealed whispers filled the room.

The man in front of her seemed to tower above most ofthe attendees. His bright red uniform and medals pinned to his chest, proof ofhis prowess in battle, seemed obnoxiously loud and reminded her of howdifferent and apart they truly were. Of how men sporting the same uniform hadinvaded her country and taken by force what didn’t belong to them.

To look at him, to think of why she had to do this wasmaking her sick.

She had been taken away from her home with courteoussmiles and polite words that did nothing to hide how the invaders held all thecards and they had no quarrel with twisting her arm into submitting to theirwishes.

So they had shipped off across the ocean, away fromthe deep colors of the green jungles she loved so much, from the colorful lifeof her city, and from the comfort of being among her people.

She dearly missed the sun kissed bedroom she had grownup in, the morning chants and prayers of the devotees inside the temples, theair full of spices and the perfume of the flowers in bloom.

The trip had been horrific. Storms and rough seas madeher fear that she would die in the middle of the vast ocean without theappropriate rites, her soul becoming chained to the sea and not be allowed totranscend to the beyond and see her parents.

On those nights where it almost seemed that the shipwould capsize at any moment, she held tight to her baby sister (a merelythirteen year old girl who had tragically been roped into this voyage due tosharing the same lineage) and allowed a few rogue tears to trickle down her face.

The only comfort had been the kind young man thatstationed himself outside her cabin to make the sisters feel more secure,promising to keep them safe at all costs.

Jackson Overland Frost had been a true blessing duringher long journey, joining her at the port before they departed and using hiswits and charm to win her over. He had offered his services to accompany her,serve as her interpreter, and to help her navigate this new culture full ofstrange and different aspects.

He had proven a good, amicable companion. Since he wasthe only one who spoke to her in her language, it had initiated an almostinstant bond between them.

He treated her and her sister with the upmost respectand saw them as equals.

Although he did not share the same nationality as herfiancé, he had provided as a diplomatic envoy between countries and had quicklybecome friends with him.

In fact, Jack had provided her with far moreinformation about her intended than any member of her escorts.

Toothiana did not know much of Lord Bunnymund. He wasthe sole heir of his family’s titles at his 26 years of age, had ascended tothe rank of lieutenant during his military service but had been eventuallydischarged from the army (the reason of said discharge had not been explainedto her).

“How is he? Tell me about his real colors”,she had asked him while gazing at the miniature with the rendition of the manshe was to marry.

“Bunny? Well, he’s real annoying, realgrumpy, and really full of himself!” He said with a playful smile thathad made her little sister burst into laughter. “But in all seriousness, I havenever met a stronger, more honorable man than the likes of him. Truly, the lastof his kind.”

She was not able to get any more meaningfulinformation out of him. Any other pertinent details, he proclaimed, she wouldhave to ask the man himself.

Right now, Toothiana wished she had extricated moreinformation from Jack.

The small painting had not made him justice, of thatshe was certain.

Despite belonging to the upper class, his face did nothave the softness or paleness of noblemen his age. His features knew themerciless lash of the wind and the unforgiving rays of the sun, making himstand out from the sea of faces that seemed to quake at the mention of notbeing as white as snow.

His hands looked rougher than those of the pamperednoblemen.

The voice that had greeted her had sent a shiver downher spine: deep, calming, kind, instead of the monotonous plummy ones she hadheard since the beginning of her journey. It was the type of voice that shewouldn’t mind hearing for the rest of her days.

However, his eyes were the most striking of his attributes,two orbs of vivid green that sucked the air out of her lungs when she firstlooked at them.

Despite how pleasing he was on the eyes, she wasdetermined to not budge an inch.

They wanted to make her dance to their tune? Fine.

But she would be the one to mark the tempo.

“And I hope that you do not prove asconceited and vain as the rest of your countrymen”, she retorted with asweet smirk. Even if no one but Jack and her sister could understand her, shewas content with her words.

Jack snorted at her comment, barely covering hislaughter and trying to pass it as a fit of cough.

Although it was only for a moment, she could swear shesaw her fiancé smiling at her display of spirit.

His fiancé was nothing like he had expected.

The ones that had arranged their union had granted himlittle information about her.

Whatever he received should be taken with a grain ofsalt, anyways.

Their derisive remarks and snide commentaries againsther being a foreigner and from a different culture got on his nerves.

He hated this place.

Aster was certain of this once he had been forced toleave his post at the army and practically dragged back to his country to sitdown and submit to orders like a good puppet.

He had been received with a scowl by the ones sittingatop of the political playfield.

And, stars above, the almost unending procession fromone minister’s office to another just to receive the same lecture from stuffyold men with no idea of how real life was beyond their very noses, almost droveBunnymund mad.

They had no qualm of gloating about how lucky he was to not have been executedfor his seditious actions against the crown.

What did they knew of his motives? Absolutely nothing.

They had never gone hungry a day of their lives. Theyknew not of sore muscles and tired bodies after strenuous hours of labor underthe sun. They feared not the crack of the whip, nor the unkind treatment of strangersthat had no roots to their lands.

While stationed as an officer, he had tried to breakpeace between the locals and his countrymen. But the latter refused to give anyquarter to what they considered belonged to them.

The moment that he was demanded to comply withatrocities like the ones they had ordered of him had been the straw that brokethe camel’s back.

Bunnymund had taken action against those who commandedhim. Slowly and discreetly, he had aided local insurgent factions, providingresources, information and even shelter to those who were on the run.

Unfortunately, he was caught without any means ofescape.

The first month that he stayed in prison had beentesting.

His once fellow officers now treated him like thelowliest of criminals, spitting insults whenever they passed him by.

The beatings and punishments were administered withardent fervor.

When the infection had settled in, he truly thought hewould die in that filthy cell and not even be given a proper grave.

Those days spent at the camp’s infirmary – confined tohis bed not only by the fever but by the manacles to prevent any chance ofescape, and being look down by the doctors and nurses that kept him alive – hadcrawled by agonizing slow.

Illness decided not to kill him, and back to the cellhe went.

He was careless enough to lose track of the time hespent there, only when he was released he found out that his confinement had lasteda year and 3 months.

Out of nowhere, he was presented to the commander ofthe camp and informed that his family had pulled enough strings for him to besent back to his country to be dealt with by higher authorities. He was givenhonorable discharge of the army and was forbidden to return, the disdain in theofficer oozing from every word.

And throughout this horrid experience, Bunnymund hadnever uttered a word. He had not complained, nor begged, nor retracted from hisactions. It was a waste of time to try to convince them.

He was placed on the next ship back to his countryunder heavy scrutiny of two officers who had been assigned to police him thewhole trip. They did not engage with him, but the surly looks they gave himwere a dead giveaway of their opinion of him.

When the ship finally docked, he was not greeted byany better circumstances.

He had only seen his parents once. His father had donewhat he did best and berated and screamed at him, telling him what adisappointment he was to the family name.

His mother had stayed behind her husband, a silentlook of disapproval battling with the sorrow of seeing her only son in such aregretful state.

They had not allowed him to see his sister.

Days flew by. Although it was nothing compared to hisprevious accommodations, the room he was confined in told him that his ordealwas far from over.

He had been escorted to a fancy chamber, where theminister of foreign affairs was waiting for him with a reproving look and a litpipe that wafted its acrid smell all over the room.

That’s when his future purpose was laid in front ofhim.

He was to marry a princess from a small region of acountry he had never had the opportunity to see for himself.

She was the heir to the throne and her influenceweighted a lot on the hold his country had over hers.

There had been several rebel uprisings on neighboringregions and, if the princess allied herself with said insurgents, his countrywould lose an important trade point and area of influence.

They simply could not let it happen. And since theprincess and her sister were both too valuable to kill and yet too dangerous toallow to act freely, they had decided to extract her and ship her away so shecould not play her hand against them.

The diplomats had found the perfect excuse, too. Arebel war lord had threatened her throne, fully intending to kill her and takeover the region. Under a poorly disguised attempt to “guarantee her security”,they had taken her and her sister away and were on their way here.

In order to bind her to his country, they were forcingher to marry a complete stranger.

Since he had fallen from grace, he would pay his dueby playing said role. And the minister made it quite clear that Bunnymund hadno say on the matter.

He had dreaded their meeting since the man informedhim on their imposed betrothal.

What did she look like? Any description of women fromher country had not been favorable – the opinion of men who claimed to haveseen them not proper for polite society –, but Aster knew better than to trustthose pompous bigots.

What would she think of him? Arranged marriages werenot uncommon in their times but it felt like there was an ocean between themwith how different they were.

Would they get along? It almost seemed impossible thatthey would be able to find common ground.

But to his surprise, princess Toothiana had turned outto be quite a remarkable personality (at least to his standards).

Their first encounter was full of tension and statelyprotocol. The latter she broke with a confident smile on her face, clearlyletting all those haughty toffs she would not be intimidated by them.

Although he couldn’t understand her, judging by what ahard time Jack had had to try to conceal his laughter Aster knew the womanstanding before him had more fire within her than any other.

She had refused the dresses they had provided her with–thankfully, because Aster thought her own clothes made her absolutelybreathtaking, any intention of putting her into something more restraining andstifling a disservice to her person–, as well as stubbornly stuck to speakingin her own language . He liked how her rich voice traveled through the room,the unknown words twisting and wrapping around him in a pleasant sensation.

Although she had never made any acknowledgement of thefact, Bunnymund knew princess Toothiana could understand his language. Thespark of understanding gave her away, despite how everyone else considered herand her sister as uncivilized and inferior creatures.

She couldn’t have easily traversed among the wolvesthat surrounded her had she not been a bright and confident woman.

Even though they had not spent much time together, hedid find himself thinking of her: her warm smile when talking or watching overher sister –which reminded him so much of his own–, her bubbly and melodiclaugh when she and Jack shared a secret joke, even the grace she carriedherself with.

Her entrancing eyes followed him around and he couldnot deny the effect her beauty had on him.

But it was more than just that. Her strength anddetermination had quickly casted a deep sense of admiration within him.

She had left everything behind and was facing thisabysmal uncertainty head on.

He truly felt grateful to be by her side, especiallywhen she managed to irritate diplomats and nobles the way she did. And despiteenjoying what an interesting woman she was, he knew there was a whole lot moreto find out.

His fiancé definitely was a mystery, but one he didn’tmind to unravel.

Their wedding came sooner than expected.

Suddenly, Bunnymund found his garments a tadconstricting around his throat. His reflection stared back at him paler than hewished.

He was not ready for this.

Meanwhile, Jack was leaning back against his chair andhaving the time of his life. He had a smirk hanging from his lips and a glassof strong liquor on one hand, claiming that just because Bunny was going towaste such a fine kind of liquid courage didn’t mean he had to.

The young man had always liked to crack jests at hisexpense, which got them into extensive verbal banter. His carefree naturelacked the discipline and method the military service had instilled into Bunnymund.

Bunny found it rather amusing that despite not likingeach other in the beginning they had ended up friends.

It was good to have him around, a friendly face amongthe sea of pampered halfwits who were attending.

Several diplomats and ministers were there to gloat atwhat a good idea had been to match two of the empire’s greatest headaches.

Aster’s family was nowhere to be present. His fatherand mother had been outraged at the news he was marrying a foreigner theyconsidered beneath their status.

His only regret is that he hadn’t been able toproperly talk to his sister. Not even his letters had been answered, probablyintercepted by his father and now serving as tinder for the study’s chimney.

Luckily, Jack had stayed by his side, refusing todepart until his friend was in more stable grounds.

Aster could only imagine how his fiancé might bedealing with the situation from her end.

The wide open windows didn’t feel like they wereletting any air in. The walls were starting to close in on him.

He needed to leave the room, he needed to move.

Without any further explanation he was out the doorand into the corridor before it all became too overwhelming.

A sliver of light from a door slightly ajar caught hisattention.

Peering in, he was surprised when he saw his futurewife and sister in law sitting by the window sill.

The princess was no longer using her colorful clothes.She had been forced into a white wedding dress that constricted her movementsand truly did not complement her dark skin the way her usual garments did.

Although she did look beautiful and any woman from hiscountry would have been raving at the soft satin fabric and the delicate pearlsand crystals embroidered into the dress, it was clear to see that this was notwhat she wanted.

She had had no say in any of the wedding arrangementsand no one had been sympathetic enough to try to make her more comfortable.

His fingers brushed something small that had beenburning the inside of his pocket since Jack had handed it to him (his quips atbeing tired with being an errand boy due to Aster’s house arrest ignored) andwatched the two sisters, wishing he knew what they were saying.

“Our parents would be proud of what a strongwoman you are”, the younger girl commented while trying to put a bravefront for her sister.

“I think they would be proud of the both ofus”, Toothiana cupped her face and stroke her cheek with her thumb. “Youhave been through so much because of me, but I’m glad I have you with me.”

These words filled the young princess’s eyes withtears. She had been doing her best not to cry, to try to be strong and carryher family’s name with dignity. But everything had been possible thanks toToothiana.

A deep sense of fear took over her at the idea ofbeing sent away from her or that her sister’s husband would not allow them tostay together.

“I won’t feel brave if they take you awayfrom me. I don’t want to be alone.” She couldn’t keep her voice fromquivering; tears threatening to break lose in any moment.

Toothiana pulled her close to her chest and squeezedtight, almost to make sure that what remained of her family was truly there.Tears started to form in her eyes. “Do not worry, little sister. I will notallow anyone to separate us.”

They remained like that for a few moments, wishingthat the clock would stop counting down the seconds.

Eventually they separate.

“Why don’t you go with Jack for a while andask him to tell you about sledding through the snow again?”, Toothianasuggested, knowing the young man always managed to cheer her little sister up.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I want some time on my own before I have togo.”

The girl smiled and nodded, quickly exiting the roomin search for the fair haired boy that had swiftly had become their friend duringthese testing times.

Toothiana would have to thank him for being so kindand staying until everything had settled down – although she was certain thathe was also hoping to catch a particular black-haired girl’s attention before allwedding celebrations were over. She didn’t know much about Emily JanePitchiner, but knew that her friend would never fall for a shallow woman andthe girl seemed to have a sensible head on her shoulders.

If Jack had chosen her, she was bound to be special.

The memory of the pair made Toothiana focus on theview before her, thinking at the same time of her own parents and how in lovethey had been.

Nothing of these was related to love. Not even asingle aspect of her wedding was truly hers.

In her home her engagement and wedding would have beenone of the greatest events of the region.

Suitable men would have been called from far and wideto attend the ceremony where she would choose her own husband. There would havebeen exchange of gifts, prayers at the temples, celebrations.

She would have used a beautiful red dress and adorned herselfwith jewelry and flowers, like other brides from her culture.

She would have her family and friends join her groomand her in the joyful yet solemn occasion, clapping and cheering when thenewlyweds exchanged garland as a symbol of acceptance.

There would have been demure side glances, nervouslaughter at being caught watching, a rush of excitement while holding hands.

Toothiana forced herself to cast away those images,looking down at her hand and tracing the delicate and intricate traces of hennathat her sister had painstakingly drawn onto her hands.

It had been the only aspect of her culture they hadmanaged to have, mainly because the sister had done it at night when everyonewas asleep and then it was too late to do anything about it. The princessesrelished on how the maids and instructors assigned to them fussed on howuntoward it was.

A choked sob escaped from her throat and tears rolleddown her cheeks before Toothiana could hold them back. She made no movement towipe them away.

She had been hiding her emotions to both not givethose bastards the satisfaction and to not worry her little sister. But now shewas alone, she could allow herself to cry a little.

The door slowly creaked open and she turned aroundexpecting her sister or even one of the annoying ladies that had done nothingbut pester and nag at her.

She quietly gasped when she saw Bunnymund lingering atthe door, as if considering if he should pursue this course of action.

Turning around, Toothiana wiped away her tears and triedto swallow down the feeling of embarrassment at someone seeing her crying.

“I’m sorry.” He uttered courteously, sounding a tadashamed. “I didn’t mean to walk in on you, princess.”

She gave him no answer.

“I know that you wished not for this union.” Bunnymundcleared his throat. “And I would not do you a disservice by saying that this isthe way I wanted my marriage to unfold.”

Well, at least they were being honest.

“But…”, he paused to gather strength. “Despite thecircumstances, we find ourselves together in uncharted territory. I know nothow to be a good husband and I’m sure that Jack has made you aware of my manyflaws.”

Toothiana smiled, wanting to turn around and poke funat him about the fact that no matter how much they bickered, Jack had a trueappreciation of him as a friend. Yet she remained quiet.

“We may not know much about each other. But in whatlittle time we have had, I have realized that I’ve never met a braver, more strong-willed,and kinder woman I would wish to marry.” He slowly and carefully approachedher, letting her know he meant her no threat or harm.

Her heartbeat accelerated the way it always did whenhe looked at her with those green eyes of his.

Despite her cautiousness around him but she hadmanaged to see that he was nothing like the noblemen from this country.

He had always been gentleman towards her and hersister, his presence making her feel safer. Whenever they sat with Jack andinteracted he showed true interest in what she had to say, curiously askingquestions and wanting to know more about her and her country.

And, through enough persuasion, she had found out ofwhy he had been discharged from the army and forced to come back to hishomeland.

Jack had only explained the general details, insistingthat it was better for her to hear it from Bunnymund himself, but she wasgrateful that now she knew what an outstanding man her future husband was.

Toothiana had found something she never imagined shewould find in him: kindred of spirit. Despite the differences, they shared alot in common. Their passions and ideals did not clash with the other’s, butthey burned brightly with the same intensity.

She was starting to want to know more about him.

“What I’m trying to say is…you’re not alone,princess.” He stared at her with meaningful intensity. “I promise I will carefor you and protect you to the best of my ability, til death do we part.”

Aster kneeled down while pulling a small box from hispocket and offering it to her.

Uncertain, she took it and cautiously opened.

Tears prickled at her eyes and a wave of emotion swepther as she stared at a delicate necklace with black beads on the chain and agolden pendant.

A tradition among her people was that the groom wassupposed to tie it around her neck, recognizing her as a married woman.

“Jack told me that it was customary in your countryfor the groom to gift these to the bride.”

Silence stretched as Toothiana took the necklace toadmire it in its full splendor.

Noticing the lack of verbal response and the way hisfiancé was crying, an instant feeling of panic gripped at him. Had he offendedher? Had he ruined an important custom from her country? Had Jack lead himalong just to make him look like a fool?

“I… I apologize if I have offended you, princess. It wasnot my intention to…” His face started to feel redder by the second as hespluttered.

She chuckled and shook her head to let him know hisfears were unfounded, a couple of tears still trailing down her face due tobeing moved by such a sweet gesture.

He took that as a good sign. Standing up he extendedhis hand towards the piece of jewelry. “May I?”

Her beautiful smile when she nodded made his heartskip a beat, while he inched closer so he could put the necklace on her.

It felt strangely intimate (yet not unwelcomingly so).They had never been so close, and thus never felt the heat radiating from theother’s body.

Toothiana could finally appreciate the finer detailsof his features, while Aster was finally able to let her perfume tickle theback of his nose.

Once he was satisfied with how it looked he slightlystepped to fully gaze at the enchanting woman, now looking even lovelier withthe smile that graced her lips.

He was as bold as to take her hands in his, but wasrelieved when she didn’t pull away.

“From now on, you are my path, and I choose you.”

Toothiana couldn’t be happier that they agreed.

*****

THE END, my lovelies!

Also, three cheers for Jack being such a good bro

I hope you liked it and that my writing did justice to the topics that were depicted here. See you soon and don’t hesitate to send me prompts! :D

P.S.:

I add bellow the links that I used as reference/inspiration to write this piece:

https://www.britannica.com/event/Indian-Mutiny

http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/british/victorians/indian_rebellion_01.shtml

http://www.nationalarchives.gov.uk/education/empire/g2/cs2/background.htm

https://australianstogether.org.au/discover/australian-history/colonisation/

http://cbhsyearfivehistory.weebly.com/aboriginal-lifestyle-after-british-colonisation.html

http://www.britishempire.me.uk/page102.html

https://museumsvictoria.com.au/longform/journeys-to-australia/

https://www.sbs.com.au/nitv/article/2016/12/01/10-things-you-should-know-about-slavery-australia

https://www.creativespirits.info/aboriginalculture/history/australia-has-a-history-of-aboriginal-slavery

https://www.smh.com.au/lifestyle/australia-needs-to-own-up-to-its-slave-history-20150427-1muhg3.html

https://www.quora.com/In-Ancient-India-a-woman-chose-her-husband-in-Swayamvar-true-or-false

https://www.manhattanbride.com/insights/indian/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Swayamvara

https://www.kuberbox.com/blog/mangalsutra-different-states-india/

#sweettooth #bunnymundxtooth #bunnymundxtoothiana #bunnymund #toothiana #rise of the guardians #ROTG

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minaminokyoko · 5 years

Text

Avengers Endgame: A (Late, Incredibly Long) Spoilertastic Review

Well, it’s done.

I did it. We did it. We all watched the original lineup of Avengers’ stories come to its end.

So what did I think?

It was phenomenal. A worthy ending to a more than worthy series of films and stories.

There are just so many things to go over and so many points to hit that I have to warn you this review is likely going to be just as long as Endgame’s running time, so strap in.

Overall Grade: A-

Naturally, spoilers below.

I’m taking a note from a friend of mine and have decided that due to the film’s epic length and its history, the best way to tackle my reactions is first per character, and then I can evaluate things like plot and story and action. Just a heads’ up. So here we go.

Tony

Christ. I…wow, where do I even start?

There’s just so much to talk about with this movie and the arc that Tony Stark has been fulfilling since his first film. I almost don’t know how I can even put into words what I feel for this character. Tony came to us as this swaggering, arrogant diva, and yet the first Iron Man breaks him down to his core character. Tony Stark is a man with everything and nothing. He has the looks, the intelligence, and the resources to have everything a person could want, and yet he has no family and no deep connections with others aside from Rhodey and Pepper when it all starts. The core of the MCU was very cleverly built around the theme of Tony’s heart, and that’s perhaps why so many of us are devastated to know his fate. We all saw it coming. There was sadly no other way Tony’s story would pan out if we wanted to stick to his full arc. Tony could not rest until he knew the universe would be safe, and he made sure it would be before he left us. His legacy is incredible. It’s so…hell, to use a bad pun, heartwarming.

I guess the best thing to do in order for me to not just recap every amazing thing he’s done since Iron Man is to recap moments in Endgame for Tony that leapt out at me as exceptional:

-The intro with Tony playing paper football with Nebula. Stab me in the heart. That was so cute. It’s so very like Tony to try and keep her strong and keep her spirits up when they were literally staring death in the face. It was unexpectedly adorable, and even without us having seen the days they spent together, you could tell that Tony treated her in a mature-ish fashion and that’s why Nebula appeared to be affectionate, or at the very least, respectful towards him when she is usually very distant. You could tell they totally depended on each other and it was an important partnership. I was very, very touched when she scooped him up and put him in the seat when they were approaching their final day together. It’s such a powerful thing to see how far Tony has come, through the lens of Nebula showing such compassion for him even in such a short amount of time. I love how the Russos are so good at conveying thoughts and emotions and story without saying it outright. It’s an amazing skill in filmmaking.

-Tony’s arrival back to earth, and his confrontation with the Avengers. Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. My fucking feelings, y’all. Christ. I mean, the Russos already know how to gut-punch you and then kick you when you’re down, but Tony’s complete and utter break down still hurts like a mother. It’s just so raw and emotional, and it should be that way after a loss on this kind of scale. What really tipped me over into choking down frustrated tears was that Tony just looks at Cap desperately when he stumbles off that ship and says in this broken voice, “I lost the kid.” He can’t even bear to say Peter Parker’s name. The shame and loss and guilt is too much for him to say his little Spider Son’s name. Oh, fuck you, Russo brothers.

And then the team being in utter shambles over losing to Thanos, all of them just barely holding it together, and then Tony just shatters. He’s home and he’s with family, but he can’t get over this kind of failure. What really tears it is him going after Steve so viciously, and it’s so complex. He’s angry at himself, and he chooses to direct that anger at Cap because we all know Tony took it as a personal loss, as all of them did, that he couldn’t stop Thanos even though he literally gave it everything. He gave every last bit, every last drop, of effort, and he couldn’t stop Thanos. It just hurts. And the resentment that was already between Cap and Tony after Civil War is still clearly there, so the entire scene is just like being dragged naked over broken glass. RDJ and Evans’ acting here is some of the best of the entire series in this scene. It sets the stage and reminds us of the stakes amazingly well.

-Tony’s post Snap life, and his interactions with his family. All of us Tony stans called it that Tony would be a phenomenal father. He’s already shown us that he can be the right amount of strict and caring, and everything with Morgan is exactly what I dreamt it would be. I could rewatch the scenes with Tony and Morgan a thousand times. People can shit on Tony all they want and I will never listen to them, because it’s so apparent how much and how deeply he cares in scenes like this. Where he confronts Pepper after he figures out the time heist equation. Years ago, Tony may have lied to her or made a decision without consulting her, but Tony has grown as a person and he approaches his wife with one of the most important things he will ever do in his life and he asks for her opinion before he does anything. It’s such a good comparison to how he used to be. Tony’s heart is so huge in this whole sequence. It’s such a good representation of his internal battle between doing what is right for everyone and doing what is right for him.

-Tony and Cap’s reconciliation. Oh, my heart. I love how Tony approaches it in such a Tony sort of way, forgiving Cap and agreeing to move past their resentment for what happened in Civil War. I like that it was done in a brisk sort of way, and that a lot of the power in the scene comes from RDJ and Evans’ facial expressions. Really, these two act off of each other so well that part of why we’re all crying so hard about this movie is the horrible knowledge that we don’t get to see them act opposite each other in this context. I pray they stay friends in real life, and I would love to see them reunited on screen someday. It’s such a great relationship and it’s at the core of why this is such a great film series.

-The New York heist. Oh God. I can’t wait for them to tell us if the comment about Cap’s ass was in the script or if it was an improvised line by RDJ or Paul Rudd. It is by far one of the funniest things ever to happen in the MCU. Dear God, I was howling. The best part is that during the premiere we were all laughing so hard that I missed Cap’s initial reply, which was, “No one’s asking you to look, Tony.” Christ, I can’t deal. I know it’s straight up Stony pandering but I don’t give a fuck, it was hilarious. And it’s a very meta joke since Chris Evans’ gorgeous, flawless body is a meme thanks to his Dorito proportions (if you haven’t seen that yet, oh god, please look it up) and the fact that he has an absolutely phenomenal ass, especially for a white guy from Boston. Anyway, Tony and Scott’s whole interaction was perfect, and I loved how the scene went and how it led into the next one.

-The army base heist. Tony running into his father was such a good twist. I absolutely did not see that coming, but it was a really welcome conversation to give Tony closure. He’s felt so guilty for how he left things with them, and it was so touching to see him get a second chance at it, even if Howard was none the wiser. I really hadn’t expected anything like that, but it worked well with Tony’s arc and I thought it was very sweet.

-Tony’s reaction to seeing his baby boy, his little Spider Son, running up to him. My God. This was everything. I am a hardcore supporter of the Iron Dad and Spider Son dynamic, and this was the reunion I so sorely needed after the sick, demented, painful scene that was the final moments in Infinity War. Like the rest of you, the level of trauma that hit me when Peter Parker died is just…hell, infinite. The pain was just infinite. I both love and hate Tom Holland and RDJ for doing that shit to us. I did not know I could cry that hard about a fictional character, but I openly wept to the point of sobbing when Peter Parker died in IW, and to see him back in this scene was so wonderful. In my second viewing, the audience actually clapped when Peter swung through the portal, and that was quite sweet for me to experience. But back to the point: once again, I have to simply compliment RDJ’s acting. This is why we love him so much. It’s not even about the big, loud moments. His acting is so precise that the flurry of emotional expressions that Tony went through when his tiny son helped him up and started excitedly babbling to him about being dead, of all things, and then Tony just doesn’t even interrupt him, he just walks forward and pulls that little boy into his arms and holds him tightly in a hug and it’s just…wow. This is some spectacular acting on both their parts, and it heals a really wounded part of my heart, even though the next scene I talk about just breaks it all over again. Plus, at the time I wrote this review, the Spider-Man: Far From Home full trailer just dropped and (SPOILER ALERT) the opening scene is Peter Parker and Happy mourning Tony and I just feel like someone hammered a stake into my chest. This scene is so fantastic. It’s just another reminder of how damn much Tony Stark cares about the people around him and that he has an actual family now, and that’s why the next scene is possibly the saddest one of all.

-Tony’s death. Like Loki’s untimely demise, I knew this was coming from years and years of being a writer. Based on the track for his character arc and because RDJ announced this is his final official performance as the character, I knew Tony was going to die. There was no way around it. His determination to save everyone and correct the wrong done to the universe by Thanos would drive him past his limits and cause him to sacrifice it all. It’s just…man. I wish it had ended differently for him. Anyone who follows me on Tumblr knows that I tag all Iron Man posts with “we stan Tony Stark in this house” and that is how I feel. While Tony is not my favorite Avenger, I will stand up for him all day, err day. Tony Stark is the epitome of the human spirit, and in a different way than Cap, if you ask me. Tony is all of the dark and seedy parts, but also the defiance and the self-deprecation and the obsession and the power of the human spirit. He has so many vices and yet so many virtues. He cares to a fault. He blames himself to a fault. He has come so far after that brutal conversation in Avengers when Cap accuses him of not being the man to lay down on the razor wire and let the other guy crawl over you. He made the ultimate sacrifice play. As much as I reject the idea, we all knew it had to be him. It had to be. Because at the end of the day, Tony’s need to make his family safe was more precious to him than his own life. He gave up a future with his loved ones to make sure Thanos could never hurt them again. And all of it was capped off with a line that will probably haunt me forever, of Pepper’s soft, forgiving goodbye, “You can rest.”

-Tony’s farewell message to his family. Want to know something crazy? I cried so hard at the premiere. So hard. I was almost dry heaving with how hard I cried at Tony’s funeral. But then I had a week of time and I saw it again this past Sunday. I was choked up during his death but I didn’t shed actual tears this time until “I love you 3000.” Somehow, it didn’t hit me until the second time how they filmed Tony’s goodbye to us. They shot it in such a way that as he leans down to turn off the recording, he’s actually looking at us. Not directly into the camera, but so close to it that it finally hit me that this was RDJ’s goodbye and thank you to the fans. It was so touching and sincere that I finally broke down and actually cried again. What truly hurts is knowing that his loved ones have to be without him, and even though his sacrifice means everything, he is going to leave behind such a void. Even with his problems and his flaws, Tony was a damn good man and he was the right choice to begin this epic series. I can’t express how much I am going to miss him and how much I am going to miss RDJ in this shared universe. He’s so charismatic and wonderful and complex. It was not only a comeback for Tony Stark, but a comeback for a very troubled man, and it’s come full circle that Tony had a loving family just as RDJ has a loving family after his checkered past. To be honest, I’m likely going to do as I did for Loki and have a cutoff point in my brain for the MCU, where I don’t accept what happened because it’s too painful. I just pretend that nothing happened after that hug with Peter Parker and they all won the day and no one died. That’s just how it’s gotta be for me to survive a post Endgame world.

Thank you, Tony. You gave everything. I love you now and always.

Thor

-Thor executing Thanos. Standing. Fucking. Ovation. Right, so, I know that Thor probably should not have outright killed Thanos before they had more information, but at the same time, there was nothing more to get out of that son of a bitch and I clapped when Thor swung Stormbreaker and lopped that mo’fo’s head clean off, and I flipped off Thanos’ corpse with both fingers. Good boy. He told you he’d kill you, and he killed you, you sorry bastard. A+++

-Thor’s depression and weight gain. Alright. *rolls up sleeves* Time to make some enemies. I think Fat!Thor is a great idea, but the execution could have been done better. I recognize writing tricks when I see them, and Fat!Thor seems to be two ideas in one, and one of them is what is bothering the semi-reasonable part of the fandom. What I’ll do is explain my take on both parts of the overall idea.

(1) Thor’s depression at his failure (at the time) to reverse the Snap and save everyone is 100% accurate, in character, and is damn good writing. Thor has never actually full-on failed at anything in his life. The closest he has come is between being cast out in the first Thor movie for being irrational and cruel, and in Ragnarok where he had to let Surtur destroy Asgard in order to save his people. Even then, Thor lost battles, not the overall war. Therefore, Thor does not understand how to process failure. Yes, he also failed to save his mother, but at the same time, it’s not a failure on this level. He lost Frigga, Loki, the Warriors Three, and Heimdall, but this was literally trillions of lives that he feels were weighed on his shoulders, and his shoulders alone, even though as Rocket pointed out, losing the war was the fault of a LOT of people, not just Thor (and not Starlord either, you bunch of whiny hypocrites in the fandom, ugh). So becoming an alcoholic and giving up on his life as a hero is definitely how Thor would handle things. Think about it. He no longer has any guidance from his family, or his best friend, since they died. All he has is his Avengers family and Valkyrie. I’m sure the Avengers tried to talk him out of it to no avail, and that’s a really sad thing to know, that they couldn’t get him out of his depression spiral, so they let him wallow in it. As for Valkyrie, she’s still just barely recovered from her own trauma, and I am sure she probably tried to snap him out of it too, but he was too stubborn to listen. What I like about this point for his character is that Thor is right—he has always been expected to be “worthy” and to be the savior. Thor is the big gun on the team alongside the Hulk. He has always been the bravest, the noblest, and the most powerful person on the team, and he is expected as a king to win the day every time. But he lost. And he can’t reconcile it since he has always triumphed in the end. So it’s very understandable for him to lose control and just want to have nothing to do with the hero business, because if you fail once, you can fail again, and he couldn’t bear the thought of failing again, not after it cost him literally everything.

(2) Fat!Thor was an easy source of cheap laughs to keep the mood from getting too dark considering the subject matter handled in this movie. I am of two minds about this issue. On the one hand, I can see why certain people feel that this is fat shaming. It is. But the problem stems from the fact that the fat shaming is still a large part of American culture, and people have not broken the bad habit yet, and so it gets shifted into the easy laughs category. The easy laughs are for the Average Joe viewer. It’s for people who aren’t as conscious of how it sounds to mock him for his weight gain who are just used to “ha ha, fat person jokes.” Some fans felt uncomfortable that he was the butt of a few jokes because a lot of us who suffer from depression know that this is in fact a side effect. When you’re depressed, it’s easy to stress eat and overeat, and you lean heavily towards comfort foods that cause you to gain weight, and your depression makes you tired, so you also don’t exercise and that’s how you can end up overweight. On the other hand, while I agree with these folks about not liking the fat jokes, I also think it was necessary to show a character we all admire falling into the same pitfalls that we as mere Midgardians deal with on a daily basis. I don’t like the jokes, but I do like Fat!Thor’s inclusion in this story because people need to realize what depression does to a person. It shouldn’t have been handled this way, but from a strictly observer perspective, I understand why they went for the low hanging fruit. People needed to laugh since Endgame has very, very dark elements to it. I would have preferred they approach his weight gain in a more dignified fashion, but not every part of this movie was written for me and I sadly have to accept it. That’s my feelings on it.

-Thor’s encounter with Frigga on Asgard. I. FREAKING. LOVE. THIS. I did not see it coming, and I love it with every fiber of my being. This is such a heartwarming scene. I want to rewatch it a thousand times. I love Frigga immediately knowing what’s up (she’s not stupid and of course she noticed and it’s everything to me) and I love that she can clearly see how distraught her beautiful son has become. I love Thor having a panic attack, because that’s extremely realistic after he’s gone so long not having done any hero work, per se, and having to face his previous failed relationship with Jane, and with facing the day his mother died again. It’s really compelling writing. Frigga’s gentle reassurance is exactly what he needed, and it’s exactly what we needed to see him go through. He had to let go of the expectations piled upon him and accept himself for who he is, not who he needs to be as a warrior king and an Avenger. While I do wish they had gone on to show us a little more of who he considers himself to be instead of who he is supposed to be, I am really excited to hear Chris Hemsworth is one of the Avengers who has chosen to stay past the end of Phase Three. He’s young and funny and vibrant and I think Thor is his best role of his career anyhow (no offense meant, Hems, if you ever read this, you handsome golden retriever, you). I think exploring Thor’s personal goals and future will be very interesting.

-Thor’s reaction to Natasha’s death. This is a very small moment, but I actually like it a lot. I like that Thor’s optimism here is a form of denial. I like it because there are certain Avengers who despite the 11 year saga have not interacted with each other much, and Thor and Nat are probably my leading example. When it hit him that they couldn’t use the time stone to bring her back, the loss and devastation on his face almost made up for the fact that Thor and Nat have almost no lines with each other in the film series. I like it because it hurts and because it shows that she does matter to him, even though they don’t interact. It’s a nice detail to include since I was often a little sad I never got to see these two have dialogues. I personally have even written a bit of fanfiction about what their relationship could have been like, and I think it could have been sort of brother-sisterly. It’s a shame we won’t get to see it, but I like that it is given attention here at last.

-Thor wanting to undo the Snap. Yes. This is a very good character beat for him. Again, I agree it’s annoying he ends up getting another fat joke thrown at him (nice work, Rhodey, sheesh, it’s not like the poor guy was traumatized or anything), I like that Tony talks him down. I like that Tony doesn’t think he can’t do it, he’s worried that Thor is in so much pain that he shouldn’t try to make such a rash decision that could cost him his life. Tony seemed dismissive, but I think he was trying to protect his friend more than anything else. I think Tony also knew that it would be rough if Thor either died or became permanently crippled by undoing the Snap. Being able to fight is extremely important to Thor, even with his depression, because Thor is essentially a space Viking. It shows that Tony is aware that Thor’s not just bumbling around as a chubby drunk, but he’s legitimately in pain and he needs to take things slower.

-Thor giving Valkyrie the throne. First off, I need to sling salt at the freaking part of the Thorkyrie fandom that is somehow complaining about this scene. Are you kidding me? What movie did you watch? This is the ultimate freaking Thorkyrie scene, you bunch of whiny nincompoops! Thor literally gave Valkyrie the throne because she is so smart, powerful, and kind that he trusted her to take care of the people he loves with all his heart. The amount of trust and respect that is in this scene makes me want to just squeal for hours. I can’t handle how affectionate and reverent Thor is as he gives Valkyrie the throne. I love the long gaze they share. I love the handshake. I love that Val asks when she’ll see him again. I love that Thor has faith in her and how she will lead his people. Anyone bitching that this is an anti-Thorkyrie scene did not see the same movie we did, and you can all piss off. I love this scene to my core. I love seeing Valkyrie being assured to be a relevant part of Thor’s story and that it likely means Tessa Thompson is going to join us again for either Thor 4 or Guardians of the Galaxy 3. I am a giant freaking fan of her character and I can’t scream “SIGN ME THE FUCK UP” loud enough for her to be in future films with him, and with the MCU in general. I hope she signed a three movie deal or more. That would be amazing. But anyway, my point is, this scene is fantastic and I will be rewinding it a lot when this movie gets to DVD. Nothing makes me happier than Thor shooting heart-eyes at Val, and he was shooting them so hard in this scene that he even took his sunglasses off. God bless this scene.

-Asgardians of the Galaxy. I DON’T KNOW WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN WITH THIS BUT I LOVE IT WITH MY ENTIRE FUCKING SOUL YOU GUYS. Everything about Thor hanging out with the Guardians makes me so incredibly happy. I can’t wait for shenanigans. I would assume the plot of the next one is finding Gamora and bringing her home and re-teaching her about her family and falling in love with Quill again, but who knows what wackiness awaits us? I can’t deal with Thor being a little shit to Quill. I could see his Hemsworth peeking through, and I am here for it. Half the reason we all love Thor as much as we do is that Taika was one of the first people to suggest letting Hems be more like himself, and Chris Hemsworth is basically a giant, hilarious puppy, and it really made Thor more fun and likable. Don’t get me wrong—I loved my noble prince, but he was still a big golden retriever even when he was more Shakespearean and all they truly did was dial it up to be a bigger part of his personality.

Really, I like what Thor went through in Endgame and how it connects with lots of elements in previous movies. While parts could have been done better, I thought it was fantastic and it shook things up in a way that should be quite intriguing for his future appearances. Of everyone, Thor is the character I am most excited to learn about continuing to be in the MCU.

Natasha

-Natasha taking a leadership role in the Post Snap years, and her conversation with Steve. Anyone who knows me knows that I am a die-hard Captasha shipper, but more than that, I think the friendship and love (platonic or otherwise) between Nat and Steve is by far one of the best relationships in the Avengers saga. I love how it began, how it developed, and where it is when we watch this scene of them together. I love how soft and gentle Steve is with her, and yet he teases her in this subtle way that’s almost like a verbal hug. Steve is just so compassionate and conscious of her emotional needs, the same as how she has been with him. I think this is such a precious relationship and it’s vital to both of them that they have someone to confide in when times are hard. It’s possibly even more beautiful because they aren’t canonically together as a couple; they’re just two friends who have bonded and been partners ever since The Winter Soldier, and they without a doubt love each other. (Side note: and I am not alone in this because Chris Evans even ships it, and that makes me so very pleased.) I gobble up all Captasha scenes, honestly, because it’s so well written and it’s come a long way from the first time they met in Avengers. But to get a little more in depth, Nat’s brief breakdown about Clint is really something else. Seeing her struggle with the idea that the man she loves (again, platonically) has become a monster, and struggling with the idea that she should move on but she can’t because she’s lost her family, is really damn hard to watch, but it’s necessary. It’s a really good reflection of the level of loss and trauma and pain our poor Avengers have had to deal with since the Snap. It’s an excellent scene.

-Nat going after Clint to bring him home once they figure out that the time heist is at least possible. Ow. This is another scene that is a big kick in the nuts. “Don’t. Don’t give me hope.” “I’m sorry I couldn’t give it to you sooner.” Bury me, this is such a good, quiet little scene for her. I really like their friendship and their bond. When Nat mentions family in the previous scene, this is what she’s talking about, and I love how Endgame might be the first film to openly acknowledge that the Avengers are family to each other. And what I like is that this series has earned that. Nothing makes me angrier than when people drop the F-bomb where it is NOT deserved. (*side eyes Suicide Squad and Deadpool 2*) The Avengers have fought and bled for each other, have supported each other, and have loved each other through hell and back, and they ARE a family. Bringing Clint home was a big deal to her, facing her fears of what he’s become, but seeing that he is still somewhat the man she knows and loves because he does return to the fold in the end.

-Natasha’s death. Hoo boy. Okay, so like Tony and Loki, I might just stick this in my Denial category. I was hit with a huge wave of “oh no, please no” when I found out Clint and Nat would be the ones going to retrieve the Soul Stone, because of course it had to be them. However, it was thematically the right choice for it to be Clint and Nat, since I personally think the only other combination it could have been was Steve and Tony or Steve and Nat in terms of “give up that which you love” that the Red Skull illuminated is the price for the stone. I think all the team members genuinely care for each other, but if I wanted to use the word love, yes, I’d say it comes down to members of the team who truly love one another, it’s Tony and Steve, Clint and Nat, and Nat and Steve. So I am in a very weird place about Nat’s death in this movie.

First off, I love how it was handled because it couldn’t have gone any other way. Of course both of them wanted to jump on this grenade for each other. Of course they both think they are the unworthy one who should die for the other person they love. Of course they fought over it.

Here's the thing, though: from a writing standpoint, it did need to be Natasha.

And before we go further, let’s address the elephant in the room fandom-wise: FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, YOU MORONS, THIS IS NOT THE ‘STUFFED IN THE FRIDGE’ TROPE. God, I hate you sometimes, MCU fandom. I knew as soon as she sacrificed herself that all the fake feminists would run into the streets and climb onto their soapboxes and try to call the Fridge trope. Shut up. It’s not a Fridge.

For those not familiar with the trope, Stuffed in the Fridge is when a typically female character is unceremoniously killed off for usually one of two reasons (1) to cause a male character to angst (2) to further or advance a male agenda somehow.

Natasha’s sacrifice is neither of these things.

First off, it was her choice. Clint made it completely clear that he loves her and he did not want her to die for him. One of the primary problems with the Fridge trope is it robs the woman of her choice, and Nat is the one who decided that she would be the one to die for the Soul Stone. Calling this a Fridge is a blatant, insulting erasure of her motivation as a character.

Second off, Nat’s death is a sacrifice that wins a war. It’s not pointless, and it’s not just for angst, and it’s not just for a male character to get ahead in the story. She literally saves trillions of lives by trading her soul for the stone. Trillions. Yes, the team is devastated, but her death is not simply there to make you shed tears and nothing else. She saved them all. So don’t you dare try to pin this dumb trope on her, because it’s not accurate or correct.

Third off, this completes Natasha’s character arc. We’re introduced to the beginning of her arc in the iconic scene of The Avengers where she tricks Loki into revealing his scheme, but it turns out that while she does succeed, we find out what motivates her, and that Loki’s cruelty did affect her in the end. Clint was sent to kill her, but he shows compassion and instead recruits her. Clint gives her a second chance. And Nat, in sacrificing herself for the Soul Stone, gives Clint a second chance. It’s come full circle. One of my all-time favorite lines in this entire film series is hers, “I got red in my ledger; I’d like to wipe it out.” That. Is. A. Fucking. Great. Line. And this is the pay off and the completion of Nat’s character arc. She’s done horrible things and they have been chains on her soul and she felt that she needed to repay her debt in this way, and in a way that would save so many innocent lives. I will not have these people running around discounting that and acting like she is some victim. Natasha Romanov is not a fucking victim. Natasha Romanov died a hero. She is one of my favorite Avengers and I cried so hard at her loss, but I acknowledge that she did a brave, selfless thing for everyone she loved, and she will be remembered for that always.

Now. That being said…if you want to complain about a female character dying in a majority male story, yes, go right ahead. That is a legitimate complaint. It sucks that Nat died when most of the team is male. I will heartily concur with this criticism and offer no counterargument. It sucks. Period. I hate that she dies in the first act because I really love her fighting style and I wanted to see her kick more ass in the final battle because she’s amazing to watch. So yes, that’s a point I do take off from this movie.

In the end, I’m sort of straddling the fence for losing Nat, as I am with Tony, but I think a lot of people feel the same way. It is great writing, but the loss is so painful that I might not accept it totally.

Thank you for your bravery, Nat. Seriously, you’re one of my favorite female leads and you’ll be sorely missed. I can only hope the Black Widow movie helps me deal with the pain of losing you.

Steve

-Steve quietly taking all of Tony’s trauma-fueled ranting. This is so important. Chris Evans is so fantastic at acting in general, but all of his expressions as Tony lays into him are so underrated, man. He knows that Tony has reached a breaking point, and so he offers no vitriol in return. It’s a huge contrast to the scene in Civil War where the two of them argue. Steve is by no means a timid man. He recognizes that Tony is in such pain, as are all of them, and he just takes that rage because he knows it’s just how Tony chose to process everything because he can’t come to terms with it. We know he blames himself for being unable to stop Thanos, same as all of them do, and it’s such a testament to what a good man Steve is that he doesn’t fire back at Tony, and he is deeply concerned for him instead. Especially when Tony throws it back in his face that they’d lose together, and that’s what hurts the most during this scene. Tony was alone when he lost. Nebula was the only survivor, and she was a complete stranger to him until they repaired the Milano and tried to get back to civilization. I think Tony would still be angry and traumatized, but he’s always been able to look to his team members for ideas or comfort or just companionship in hard times. He nearly died, and that left a mark on him that ran so deep he just couldn’t stop spitting vitriol at possibly one of his closest friends, and it’s also important that they hadn’t spoken since the end of Civil War, so all of that anger and resentment is also tangled up inside them both. What a scene, man. What a scene.

-Steve mentoring people in the Post Snap years. This has a couple of really great things as a scene, honestly. First off, I love that even with Steve being heartbroken and refusing to move on, he still knows it is important to help others. Second off, I love that it’s almost implied that this is in honor of Sam Wilson, who did the same thing for soldiers who returned home from war struggling with PTSD. I really, really love Steve Rogers with all my heart for this scene. Even though he’s broken down and just as devastated as everyone else, he is still out there trying to help others. That is who he is at his core. Steve is the man who cannot stand by and let other people suffer. He won’t do it. It doesn’t matter what it costs him. He will defend and protect and nurture, always. By God, I love that about him.

-Steve’s quiet reconciliation with Tony. We discussed this above, but I love that Steve says so few words here and lets Tony do all the talking. There’s an almost silent “I’m sorry and I love you and I want you to be happy” in this scene together. Tony bringing back the shield just…my feelings…oh God, my feelings.

-Steve’s miniature speech before they head into the Quantum Realm. I love that even Rocket is impressed.

-Steve’s reaction to Nat’s death. Fuck. Me. Up. This hurt so badly. I can’t. I can’t with how Steve looks at Clint and Clint just looks back at him, and you can almost hear him telepathically saying, “Steve, we lost her.” Like I said before, Steve and Clint without a doubt love Natasha. Yes, Bruce does to some degree, but it’s not the same (sorry, y’all, I think BruceNat was trash and I will never accept it because it was forced and awkward and made no sense to me) as the deep vein of friendship and love she had with both men. It killed me when they were out on the dock and Steve was openly crying for her. We saw Steve crying in the trailer but we didn’t know this was the context. Oh, this hurts me. Steve loved her with all his heart. She was his best friend, same as Sam and Bucky were, and to lose her with no chance of ever getting her back is a terrible, terrible loss. Boy, this scene was rough to endure. I can only imagine how he must have felt having to let her go after he’s lost so many people he loved. Poor Steve.

-The entire New York heist. Oh God. I’m just in heaven over how Steve handled things, everything from the intentional recreation of the iconic elevator scene in The Winter Soldier to the insidious “Hail Hydra” (*makes strangulation hands in the direction of the Russo brothers because they KNOW most of the fandom hates Hydra Cap from the comics and so of course they put that in there just to screw with us*) to the smug smirk on Cap’s face as he walked away with scepter to Cap laying the beatdown on himself to Cap acknowledging his sweet, sweet, round, perfectly firm ass. (Seriously, Chris Evans, if you ever read this, marry me, we already met and hugged each other, we could make this work.) Yes. Special props to Cap vs. Cap’s interactions. It was just…everything.

-Steve wielding Mjolnir. Jesus. Fucking. Christ. So everyone’s already raved about this scene, but I don’t care, I have to rave about it too. Good gravy. Good God. This scene is everything. Honestly, it is easily one of the greatest things ever conceived not only by the MCU, but in action movies period. This can stand toe to toe with some of the best beatdowns in all of cinema. It’s just…where do you even start with how good this fucking scene is?! I mean, every second of it is just glorious. Whether it was the Russos or Evans or the script writers, whoever I need to thank, THANK YOU. Thank you for gift wrapping this total surprise. Every one of us was wounded that Cap didn’t easily lift Mjolnir in Age of Ultron, but at the same time, I loved the humor of that scene when Mjolnir did actually start to move and Thor totally panicked for a second. It was funny as hell. But for the Russos to fulfill our fantasy in a way that was not only a surprise, but just an absolute joy to watch, I can’t even express my fangirl tears. This scene is better than sex and chocolate and cocaine. It’s flawless. Everything about it is flawless, from Steve summoning the goddamn lightning to Thor’s gleeful “I KNEW IT!” I wish I could frame this scene on my wall in .gif form, and I apologize in advance to all my Tumblr followers, because the second this scene is giffed after the DVD release, I am going to reblog it three billion times. I will never stop reblogging it. This is the height of MCU perfection and it deserves to be known as such.

-Steve facing off with Thanos in his last stand, and actually holding his own. Dude. Steve Rogers is a human man, and he withstood Thanos. I just…I can’t with how awesome it is. He lost in the end, but he beat the shit out of Thanos for a good bit and I just have to give him all the props for that. He did the impossible and survived him. That’s amazing.

-Steve strapping on his broken shield and staring down Thanos and his army. This is peak Steve Rogers right here. “Yeah, you have thousands of soldiers. Yeah, you sheared my shield in half. Yeah, you beat me and my comrades. And I don’t give a single solitary fuck.” This is also an amazing echo to the moment in Infinity War where poor Wanda had to kill Vision, and Cap stood up to Thanos with his goddamn bare hands. Steve standing up after getting the shit kicked out of him is what he is all about. He doesn’t care that he is outnumbered. He doesn’t care that he is outgunned. He is Steve motherfucking Rogers and he is going to stand against evil period. This is top tier stuff, man.

-“Avengers Assemble.” Like everyone else, I jizzed in my pants. Full on. We all had a hunch that they would save it until the final Avengers film with the final appearances of the original team, and it was everything we dreamt it would be.

-Steve catching Stormbreaker as well and then trading it with Thor mid-battle. A tiny but hilariously awesome scene. I’m so glad they included it, and it was another little nod to Steve and Thor always having a small adorable friendship moment in each Avengers movie. Thanks for that, truly.

-Steve passing the mantle over to Sam Wilson. Holy shit. So a lot of us were relatively sure with Chris Evans confirming this as his last full appearance as Captain America that the mantle would go to either Bucky or Sam. My money was on Sam, simply for him still being new blood having entered at Phase 2 in the MCU, and because Sam is a lot more of a dynamic main lead that I think the MCU needs in the role. Anthony Mackie, as any hardcore MCU fans know, is a bundle of fun behind the scenes. He’s really hilarious and charismatic, and I think he’ll bring a lot to the role of the new Captain America. It’s such a touching scene as Steve hands him the shield. I really, really get choked up about how it was handled with such respect and trust and honest to God friendship. “How does it feel?” “Like it’s someone else’s.” “It isn’t.” Wow. What a beautiful scene. I’m a little misty as I type it out. And I do like that there was just this little nod from Bucky, who has been antagonistic to him pretty much all the time but here, he shows his support and it’s kind of just known that he will back Sam up no matter what. I cannot express how much I love this idea and its execution. It was perfect. (By the way, please look up the way Anthony Mackie found out about this before filming. It’s too cute.)

-Steve’s ending. Oh my God. Of possibly everyone on the team who I wanted to have a happy ending, I wanted Steve’s the hardest, even though I love Tony to death and beyond. Thank you, Russo brothers. Thank you for letting this man have his second chance at a life, and that he got to spend it with Peggy. I was already crying from the funeral, but the fact that they decided to end the saga with possibly the sweetest imagery in the MCU is just overwhelming. I loved their little slow dance. I love the tears of joy on Peggy’s cheeks. I love the softness in Steve’s expression as he dances with his lady love. I love the song choice. I love how he just looks down at her and she looks up at him and they kiss to close everything out and say goodbye to us all. What a scene. What an ending. I love it more than anything.

Thank you, Steve. Thank you for being our ray of light and sunshine and guidance all these years.

Nebula

I really did not expect to see an arc for Nebula, but I am delighted that we got it. This was very, very interesting considering what a sadistic murderess Nebula was in the previous films, so fueled by rage, and yet here we see that she is still powerful and effective and yet vulnerable. I enjoyed seeing her growth and getting some amount of closure with Thanos’ demise and saving Gamora as well as the rest of the universe.

Bruce

So here’s the thing: Bruce is probably my least favorite Avenger, next to Clint, but that’s not because anything is wrong with either character—I just find their personalities and abilities the least interesting. Therefore, I’ve heard complaints about Hulk not kicking ass in Infinity War and Endgame, and while they are valid points…I don’t care. I guess the thing is that Hulk has kicked ass in all his previous appearances, and I think it was nice of them to get back to the fact that Bruce is indeed a scientist and there is more to him than just crushing things. He is a very conscience driven character, and I was totally fine with him as a supporting member of the team, and of his brave decision to Un-Snap everyone back to life. I especially liked his sympathetic approach to bring Thor back home. “You helped me.” I fully admit that made my lip quiver, honestly, since Thor was obviously so traumatized and was in a lot of pain, and Bruce was gentle with him. That, to me, is just as important as all the bashing he could have done. Same with his impassioned plea with the Ancient One. Sorry that he didn’t kick ass in these last two movies, but honestly, I felt things were balanced and that it’s important to show he is more than the Hulk.

Clint

As mentioned above, Clint is my least favorite Avenger, but again, not because there is anything wrong with him or that he is written poorly—the others just outweigh him in what I like about them. I have to say opening the film with Clint losing his entire family with no knowledge of what was going on was almost as gut-stabbing as how Infinity War began and ended. It was somehow even more cruel since Clint would not have known what was going on until he called the Avengers. And yes, someone’s pointed out to me that it’s crazy he didn’t know about the war, but I have a headcanon that he just cut everyone off once he decided to retire, and he wouldn’t answer when they called so he wouldn’t be dragged into more shenanigans. I highly doubt the whole team just flat-out didn’t tell him what was going on. There’s a good chance Clint decided not to hear from the team again after Cap busted them out since he risked everything and almost got jailed for life after his decision.

All that being said, I did feel Clint’s loss very hard after Nat sacrificed herself. It was extremely well done on Jeremy Renner’s part and there was never a doubt that he loved her. Their bond has always been very cute and I never shipped them, so I wasn’t disappointed by the reveal of his secret family. I thought it was a nice touch and a surprising turn in the story. I’m glad he got to go home to his family in the end, and I especially liked the touching moment he shared with Wanda after Tony’s funeral.

Loki

Holy shit, y’all.

I did not expect this, and I love it more than anything in the world.

Right, so, I am sadly a fan of Loki’s ever since The Dark World, but at the very least, I am not a rabid fan of the character. He is an absolute fucking trashlord and I acknowledge it while still loving him anyway. I was positively giddy that they invited Tom Hiddleston back to shoot new scenes of Loki rather than simply using the old Avengers footage. And I definitely didn’t expect Tony, Cap, and Scott to screw up and Loki gets the Tesseract and vanishes. This is amazing. I can’t wait for the Loki mini-series on Disney Plus, and I assume this is what it’s going to be about. I’m really excited to see what kind of shit he gets himself into, and I loved the little bits we got of him mocking Cap even though they all just kicked his ass, and I loved him rolling his eyes in the background during the heist, and being the only one who knew something fishy was going on. Love, love, love it to pieces. Thank you for giving me more of my stupid trashlord, Endgame. You rock.

Scott

Oh, poor, poor Scott. Not only did he awaken to find his new family gone, but he lost five years of time with his daughter. Ouch. I really have to commend Paul Rudd for the reunion scene with his daughter. The shock and pain mixed in with the gratitude that she survived the Snap was so palpable. I’ve never really considered him much more than an easy going comedic actor, but he did a great job here. Kudos.

Gamora

I am really, really deeply hurt that this means our Gamora, the one we came to know and grow with, is truly gone. Like many fans, I had hoped she was somehow inside the Soul Stone and they could bust her out, but like Nat, it appears that we did truly lose her. I’m not okay. I feel so bad for Quill, who wooed her with so many great moments, and now he’s lost her again. He’ll have to try to make her fall in love with him again, and it hurts me because the sequence of events from the first two Guardians movies are how they fell in love, and it’ll be so much harder to make her understand what they meant to each other and what they had with one another as well as their little stitched together family. Damn it all. This might be one of the biggest underrated losses of all for me. Gamora is my favorite Guardian, period. I adore her, so I am both anticipating and dreading the third Guardians movie as a result.

Carol

Alright, I do have to admit one of my letdowns, even though it’s a total nitpick, is that the trailer gave us Thor and Carol, but the actual movie did not. Oh, why did you lift my hopes up this way?! I really wanted Thor and Carol to bond and have hilarious pissing contests about who is the strongest Avenger, and become battle buddies! However, this might be possible later since we know Hemsworth has agreed to at least one more film, if not more, so fingers crossed he and Carol share screentime. I adored that “I like this one” scene and Thor would play very well off of Carol if you ask me.

That being said, when Carol came back for the final fight…yassss bitch yassss fuck it up! When she came after Thanos, he was fuckin’ shook and I am here for it. I loved that failed headbutt. I want to frame that on a wall. Carol Danvers is not having any of your shit today, you purple Grape Ape punk ass bitch. She laid down the law, and it was glorious. 11/10 good shit of Carol whupping his ass and he had to suckerpunch her just to try to win.

And kudos for the utterly adorable interaction she had with my Spider Son, “H-Hi, I’m Peter Parker.” “Hey, Peter Parker. Got something for me?” *kisses fingertips* This could not have been cuter. Thank you so much, Carol.

Oh, and extra kudos for the Ladies of the MCU smackdown moment. My God. I loved every second of that assault. Please make that into a whole separate team someday and make a movie about it.

Wanda

Standing ovation for Wanda in every respect: her entrance, her powerful line (“I don’t even know who you are.” “You will.”), and the fact that she flat-out almost killed Thanos by her damn self. Wow, wow, wow, my girl. You brought the pain. I miss Vision too, honey, and I’m so sorry we can’t have him back. It’s so unfair that she’s lost her brother and her love within this story, but she still manages to keep going. Wanda is a testament to just how strong women truly are in spite of adversity.

Plot/Story

I know some fans didn’t want it to be as straight-forward as it appeared to be with them going back in time to grab the Stones and undo the Snap, but I was honestly fine with it. The story still managed to genuinely surprise me, especially with the development that the two Nebulas are what caused Thanos to find out what was going on. Holy shit, that was very creative and a great way to let her be a central character considering the trauma she has been through and overcome. I thought the pacing was excellent, and I will have to sit down and think it through but I don’t feel as if we had unnecessary scenes aside from the diner scene being a little longer than it needed to be. (You could have cut the photo op bit out and no one would miss it, for instance.) Like Infinity War, I felt that all the scenes had a use and showed us something, and the action was magnificent and creative. The Avengers pulling the entirety of the MCU together in the third act is some seriously iconic stuff that I really hope people will take into consideration as a legendary thing no one has ever really done before.

A friend of mine mentioned that you can neatly divide Endgame into three sections of story: build up, heist, and pay off. One of the best things about Endgame, to me, is the pay off. I love how many continuity nods we had and how many threads were tied off in a satisfying manner, from deeply emotional relationships to just sublime action sequences. We have so many films in this series that it’s hard to rank them, but I have to say I really would put Endgame in the top 10 for my preferences. It was a worthy ending to such an amazing set of films, and while I will miss the actors who won’t continue past Phase 3, I am incredibly grateful for their time and talents spent on this franchise. It is in its own category, honestly, with consistent quality in nearly every aspect it attempts. I think it was the perfect mix of solemn but affectionate goodbyes and bright, hopeful new beginnings. I am excited to see what is in store and what new ground we’re gonna break with the future stories.

So thanks for everything, Endgame. I’m glad to have had this era come to such a satisfying close.

See you in the funny papers.

Kyoko

#avengers #avengers endgame #endgame #spoilers #movie review #film review #the avengers #marvel #Marvel Cinematic Universe #mcu #spoiler alert #no really this is 14 pages long #i am so sorry but i had a lot of feelings okay #sorry not sorry

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