#cannot believe she had the gall

[dirt-str1der]

Thinking nonstop and reflecting on my past and the people i have talked with whom i now hate. Badly

#Listen to my problems #this is a vent post -> #i cannot believe she had the gall to text me out of nowhere and then delete her text like girl now i am thinking of how much i dislike you #and how worthless you are. like ok. at least you knew to go away #like somewhere out there im certain you will be someones favourite person but i wish you were dead #theres always a word i use when talking about my least favourite person and it is worthless #crazy how a person in real life can have 0 redeeming qualities and not just negative rizz but also be pathetic beyond measure #do you ever think of people you talk to because of circumstance and you get kind of close and you have way more contact than you would like #and you end up hating them so much because you were kind of close. like yeah if we met in passing i would not have despised you #but now i know how its like to be your friend and it is the worst experience of my life #like if we really hadnt talked. if we hadnt shared minimum 2 interests that was a gateway to me learning about the rest of you that is #completely terrible. AND liking the things i like and making it bad is like 😟 how can you like this piece of media if you like it shittily #how do you like the same things as me but in a way completely divorced from the thing itself my god you dont even deserve to be gutted #i understand exile as a punishment now. like no way im using up my state’s resources and facilities for you just get out of here

[gacha-incels]

It's astounding that these liberal bootlickers *still* can't do the basic ass things of just re-examine those official posts, consult with those who can speak the language and look up the translated threads of the unions' responses.

And before anyone tries to rebuke, no, the things said in both the August & September posts WEREN'T condemnation, just vague corporate reassurances without any statements direct intentions or actions against the perpetrators.

Are these people that cocked up in their echo-chambers to hear out of another person's culture or are they *that* sensitive of hearing of things they like that has done bad things?

ngl at some point it really does feel obscene to me seeing people write about how PM & Limbus are some top tier progressive anticapitalist haven full of lgbt+ characters while Korean women try to tell them the company’s antifeminist actions are actively harming female workers and perpetuating this misogynistic 🤏 witch hunt.

like of course MTL is not perfect here but essentially she’s saying “if you’re a transphobe in PM’s fictional city it’s unacceptable but if you’re a feminist working for PM in reality you’re at risk of losing your job. I’m surprised people who are sensitive to representations of queer fictional characters are indifferent to the labor rights of Project Moon’s employees.” This is just one example, couple of days ago I had posted another, it comes up quite often. these users are trying to tell you that this is something that directly affects Korean women in reality and you just tell them, what? they’re wrong, they don’t get it, actually what PM did was normal in their country and they had no other choice?? it must be fine because the lead singer of mili is a woman and still works with PM and this is actually just like the hays code in the US? I honestly cannot believe someone had the gall to write that last one in their “PM masterpost”. the Korean users telling you this organized boycotts, frequent digital hashtag campaigns to get information out in multiple languages, completely removed fan accounts, created an organization to help victims of feminist ideological verification, monggeu came forward explaining her awful working conditions, Mimi legally took Wonderlab down because she did not want to be associated with project moon. honestly it’s been incredible watching them rise to the occasion and accomplish so much. and you think….what exactly when you see this? that actually all of these people directly affected by the misogynist, incel catering actions of project moon are just misguided fools who don’t understand what happened? that these women are worthy sacrifices for a gambling game because you think it has some epic capitalism takedown and there are male characters who have traditionally female names?

Why do they defend PM so vehemently in the face of critique? I think part of it is this increasingly common phenomenon where these fans need to think project moon must completely have the same progressive political leanings as them because they enjoy consuming the works and they consider themselves progressive, therefore the reverse must be true, that the media they enjoy must also be ideologically progressive because they enjoy it. it’s why they’re so shocked when someone completely different from them in political leanings enjoys PM’s games, we saw this as well when Arknights KR engaged in feminist ideological verification. these high earning gambling games can make all the vague political statements they want but it doesn’t mean jack shit if they’re engaging in antifeminism and harming employees in reality. in the past decade (and especially 2020 until now) “fandom” and “consuming content” have evolved into integral parts of these people’s personalities (especially those who are gen Z and younger) and have significant impacts on how they interact with others and how they see themselves. they wrack their brains coming up with excuses for project moon’s antifeminist actions and this genuinely gets fanfiction tier at some point.

like look at this example from that “PM masterpost” a user here on tumblr made. this is the same one we were discussing earlier that reposted rumors slandering the youth union.

beyond the ridiculous untrue claims (this is nothing like the hays code, what PM did was not normal, Mihoyo isn’t the only company that told incels to fuck off, they also have offices in SK and had literally dealt with a bomb threat at one of their SK events, etc…u get it, I’m not going thru every word) you can see this wild conjecture regarding the actions taken by the 2 studios. To me this is an example that shows how much these people defending Project Moon warp their thinking in order to keep believing this company is “progressive”. The company Mihoyo that did not respond to incels’ increasingly ridiculous harassment, blocked their livestream chat then deleted all their misogynistic comments in the next livestream and was one of the only (if not the only) targeted companies that did not take Studio Ppuri’s work for them down - this is presented as essentially “whatever” and further downplayed by saying “I personally doubt [this] was a part of any deeply held opinion on women’s rights.” And Project Moon, the company that folded to incel demands immediately, fired a woman at their behest, sued unions and condemned them in their later statements while saying absolutely nothing about the incels that caused the incident, put memes in their gacha game from the very community these incels came from, makes sure to dutifully censor any🤏 in their gambling game, worked the Leviathan artist so hard she contemplated suicide frequently and had to get IVs? These things are presented as just inevitabilities of operating in South Korea and PM is lauded as “I can’t believe PM is fundamentally misogynistic.” The editorializing is absurd. imo there also comes a time where you compare your “poor little South Korean gacha game who just got caught in the crossfire and actually they are totally progressive and feminist 🥺” to the “Chinese company Mihoyo who does whatever to keep getting the most money and has no morals about it” that at some point starts to lean heavier on sinophobia. I’m not here to blow smoke up Mihoyo’s ass but I do think their action regarding the korean incels’ harassment was significant at a time when companies were falling over themselves to kiss incel ass. And, as has been discussed before on this blog, Project Moon’s capitulation to incels was also significant just in the opposite, misogynistic direction. idk it just gets so unbelievably frustrating to see English speaking users who believe themselves to be “progressive” or “leftist” making excuses because they want to keep playing videogames without feeling guilt meanwhile the Korean fanbase has consistently mobilized digitally and irl to spread info, protest, raise money, etc. like how are you not feeling any shame whatsoever after seeing how principled they are?

#project moon #limbus company #mihoyo #korean feminism

[occasionallyprosie]

Devotion - Chapter 7: "Started Young"

Dev finds an old friend, who apparently had spent the entirety of the war in a battle on another plane of existence with himself… or rather, eight other versions of himself.

Read On AO3

First <<Previous | Next>>

----

Dev sensed him. Finally, that faded divine courage came into his senses and he whirled around and was running.

"There you are!" He nearly slid across the ground as he found the kid, dropping to one knee in front of him as he held his face and checked him for injuries on instinct. "Where have you been?! Are you alright? There's so much dark residue on you!"

The kid, the hero and spirit of the Four Sword, barked out a slightly strained laugh. "I don't even know, Dev. I'm so, so confused."

Dev grew concerned before it hit him. He let out a small noise of relief. "The timelines merged, kid," he said gently, and the kid startled.

"They what? There was multiple?!"

"Three, and you remember how I told you there was a spirit that inhabited my sword before me?" The kid nodded. "She's back because she didn't die in the other timelines."

The kid's jaw dropped. "IS THAT WHY I'VE SPENT THE LAST —HOWEVER LONG FIGHTING EIGHT OTHER VERSIONS OF MYSELF?!“

Dev winced. "Probably."

He stared at him. "What the—Okay. Okay this is fine. Just..." he held his 'breath' and Dev watched him slowly calm down. "Right," the kid looked at him again, "what did I miss?

"Want to come meet the new hero?" Dev asked. "We just ended a war."

"You what."

"His name is Link, so we really need to get you a nickname, kid."

"I—Fine."

"Rainbow? Prism? Spectrum?"

"Do not call me Rainbow," he threatened. "Spectrum is fine."

"Great."

A beat passed.

"I cannot believe you fought a war without me."

"There it is."

Dev was leading Spectrum to meet Link, only to see a dauntingly familiar portal and Link disappearing through it.

It shut almost the moment Dev saw it. It took everything in Dev to trust that his Sprite was right, that it was okay, that it'd be fine.

"What was that?" Spectrum questioned.

"That... That was a portal," Dev said a bit shakily. "A temporal one, time magic. It... I've seen it before, it either takes the hero, returns them, or brings monsters. Want to go hunt some oddly strong monsters?"

Spectrum blinked and stared at him. "That's an option? Absolutely."

Soon enough, a couple years later, Link returned and he had a knowing look in his eyes when he came back. He grinned when he met Spectrum. A few days later, he'd made a passing comment on Dev being a hero when they were alone.

"I'm no hero." Dev chuckled when Link said it.

"Really?" Link challenged, looking over at him. "Labyrnna, Holodrum, Hytopia? None of those rings a bell?"

Dev hummed slightly. "Oh, they ring bells." He stood up, and he saw Link raise an eyebrow with a bit more gall than Dev was used to from him. "Yes, a very, very long time ago, I was a hero. I was born Hylian, called to save the world, got a sword, and a triangle on the back of my hand. Then I killed the incarnate of evil, and I did it again. Yes, once upon a time, I was a hero. But I'm not a hero anymore."

"Not anymore?" Link prodded, seemingly a bit confused.

Dev just laughed softly. "Kit, I'm millennia old. I've seen Hyrule rise to its golden age, fall into decay, and it is still trying to rebuild itself. I've watched friends and family live, die, and be born again. My time as a hero ended the moment I became a spirit. That doesn't mean I'll stand aside, I still fight, but I am here to protect and guide you." He tapped Link's chest. "You, and other kids like Mask and Tune. Heroes who are still heroes, who have lives to live. I. Am. No. Hero. And by the mercy of the goddesses, I never will be again."

Link caught his wrist. "Dev, you're a hero to me. And to all of Hyrule."

"Let me live my retirement in peace," Dev teased lightly. "You may be a little lion with all that energy, pride, and strength to protect those you love, but let me just be a guide and helper, not a hero. I did my time."

Link stared at him and there was sadness in his eyes. "Okay," he said softly, letting go of his wrist. "Yeah, okay."

Link died of old age. Dev was a face amongst the masses and Spectrum tugged his arm to lead them from the funeral.

Fi wanted to go dormant, so Dev let her. He refused to do the same.

He and Spectrum went out to explore, slaying monsters and forging something new, building magical weapons and jewelry then Dev ended up having to carry.

They went out to other countries, Dev knew he'd sense the birth of the next hero, Fi said they would, and they explored the far reaches of the world.

Thousands of years passed, and they came back just in time.

There was no hero in this cycle. Well, there was, but...

A six-year-old child tugged his sleeve. "Can I go home now?"

A great calamity was about to befall Hyrule and though there were guardians and a princess with Zelda's sealing power learned and ready, the hero was a tiny child.

He and Spectrum shared a look.

"Link?" Dev knelt by the boy. "Thank you so much for meeting us. Go home now, we just wanted to say hi." The parents were crying, they knew the fate their son had been called to, but Dev wasn't about to let a six-year-old fight this battle.

Little Link lit up and ran back to his parents. Fi murmured to Dev about it, but they had long since handled any differences in their methods a while ago.

"I'll do it," Spectrum said as they headed toward the castle.

"You'll have to. Have fun," Dev said as he took Spectrum's hand and transformed.

Spectrum went to the castle and the guards let him through. A green and blue tunic, bright red hair, a violet sash around his waist and matching ribbon in his hair to hold the long locks back, Spectrum marched up to the throne room and he knelt in the center of the room.

In the end, it was a quick and simple fight. Over before it was finished.

Dev disagreed with the decision to just seal the darkness; he would have much rather destroyed it.

Spectrum agreed, but neither were allowed back into the castle after the battle.

Little Link grew up happily, not a single other calling to adventure took place. Dev and Spectrum made sure of that.

Ten thousand years passed before the next one happened.

Dev had let Fi win for the past five thousand years. While Spectrum went off and did goddesses know what, Fi and Dev fell dormant within the Korok Forest beneath the protection of the Great Deku Tree.

He roused when a presence approached and was instantly aware of the thick darkness in the air. It was coming back and...

The boy who drew him was no older than twelve. He stopped Fi from even testing the boy, he saw the fear but also clear determination, not in an arrogant way, but this boy had come here, gotten through the Lost Woods, and was trying to draw the sword because he had to. Dev could see it, Fi faltered near immediately and they went willingly.

"He looks like you," Fi said. "You came to me just like that, scared, but determined. I knew you wouldn't take no for an answer, not because you wanted to wield me, but because you knew you had to."

Dev had made a slightly affirming sound. This kid already had the weight of the world on his shoulders... and Dev had every intention of lightening that load as much as he could.

"You're not bad," Dev said after Link beat a guard in a fight and was left to train alone. Link didn't talk and Dev was invisible to everyone but his wielder. "Incredible for your age, actually."

He stood beside Link, who gave him a curious look as he pulled out a fire rod and held it like a sword.

"Copy my moves," he told him. Link nodded and Dev guided him through battle techniques long forgotten to the people of Hyrule. He taught him how to execute a spin attack, how to do a downward thrust, and many other things. He taught him to fight with precision.

Link was a natural, a born fighter, and after a point, Dev started teaching him other things.

The boy was isolated from everyone, partially but not wholly by his own choice. The princess whom he had to protect outright hated him, then the champions who he was meant to fight alongside were distant from the boy that Dev got to know. Mipha was closest, and Daruk tried, but Revali drove Link deeper into his corner purposely and Urbosa did it accidentally due to her protectiveness over Zelda.

Dev would sit with Link in his quarters, coaching him through peaceful things. He taught him to knit and to sew. He taught him how to crochet too, then how to dye wool. He taught him how to cook in the kitchens, and how to cook over a campfire. He took Link out to the forests one night and taught him how to forage and make food good for eating. He taught the twelve-year-old boy how to read, horrifying himself with the knowledge that literacy and education wasn't the standard even in the most rural parts of Hyrule anymore.

Link opened up to him.

He'd grin and giggle and even sometimes quietly ask questions or make an almost sassy comment. Dev was determined to get the kid out of his shell just a bit more.

Then it struck. After accompanying the princess to the base of Mount Lanayru and to as far as an underaged individual could go, after coming down to the base of the mountain, and then the sky lit up red.

Not a day later, in the twilight before dawn, Dev was feeling his magic drain to a point it had only once before.

He poured his magic into Link, into Fi, the former managing to stand up again and the latter giving her all to keep him alive. Even for all that, even after destroying dozens of guardians, Link couldn't do it.

The Master Sword chipped, it cracked, and Link couldn't quite stand back up.

The power of the Triforce saved him from immediate death. Fi and Dev panicked, and they had Zelda put Link in the Shrine of Resurrection.

They lasted long enough for Zelda to ask them to give Link the memory of her leaving them in the forest. After that, it all faded and for the second time, Dev was forced into dormancy as he had drained himself completely just to keep one boy alive. Something he had done thousands of years ago... and had failed.

Next>>

#short lil thing #linked universe #lu legend #linkeduniverse #legend lu #fanfic #lu warriors #lu wild #lu four #sword spirit legend #fi #loz fi #linked universe fanfic #linked universe fanfiction #linked universe au #prosie writes #devotion au

[k-dokja]

"The audacity of that man!"

You worked to be offended. You really did. But even the ire in your voice was cracked by the laughter threatening to break out. Trying to pretend to be something you weren't didn't bode well for you. It only took three seconds of staying under the duress of Kayden's unimpressed glare for you to break.

Your laughter broke. Then it was joined by Kartein. The two of you made quite the circus of yourselves, laughing at Kayden's expense.

"I cannot believe—" you stopped to wheeze "—I cannot believe he—" again, you wheezed "—he was going to get you a c—" you laughed hard enough to almost fell down the bed, Kayden grabbed you by the neck and dragged you back, only for you to keep laughing at him "—another cat to mate with."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want," Kayden deadpanned, "do me a favour and choke on it, too."

Your laughter sent you to the edge of the bed again. This time, Kartein had managed to recover from his mirth and pushed you back by the head. You rolled around on the mattress and almost died from the sheer hysteria. "He wanted your kittens! I can't believe it, he asked for the Great Kayden for his great babies!"

Kayden slapped his face with a singular paw and wiped down the vexation on his face. But it remained, stuck to his features like glue. "I will kill that man the next time I see him coming around." He growled, fist clenched. "Wanting me to mate with a cat was one thing, but only for the purpose of taking away my spawn? The gall of that old bag."

"That is where your priority lies?" You almost howled with laughter and rolled a bit too close to the edge again in your outburst. Jiwoo stopped you with his palm before you slipped past the edge and nudged you back in. "Worrying about your hypothetical cat-baby instead of I don't know... bestiality?"

"Shut." He grumbled and pressed a paw square to your mouth. It didn't stop you from continuing to shudder with giggles, but his action prevented the noises from alerting everyone within the vicinity. "Wouldn't you be worried if it was your spawn, too?"

You swatted at his hand, freeing your mouth from his constriction. "Ew," you stuck your tongue out at him, "I would never."

Kayden snorted, "Say that when you're in heat."

"In what?" Suddenly, all of your laughter died. You sprung up on all four, eyes wide with anticipation.

That single sign of terror alone was enough for him to grin maliciously. "Don't you know? Female cats suffer heat when they're... in the breeding cycle. You won't be able to stay away then, just you wait."

Immediately, you hopped down the bed and landed on your feet. Your human feet. His taunting spooked you out of the transformation completely. In fact, fear of any lingering feline trait got you scooting straight towards the window, far away from him as possible.

"Don't you dare, you oversized mongrel." You hissed, more aggravated than a threatened cat.

Seeing your scared response was apparently delicious enough for Kayden that he overlooked your insult completely. Instead, he chose to cackle meanly, "No need to be shy, weren't you the one who seek me out in the first place?"

"That was after you got fatally wounded—wait, don't come near me, stay away!" You glared from him, then to Kartein, "you to—wait, never mind, you don't have balls," then glared back at Kayden, "but you, you stay away."

With that, you opened the window and promptly clambered out of the room, never minded that you were on the higher floor of an apartment building.

Jiwoo's eyes followed you nervously, then turned back to his master, "...Will she be okay?"

Kayden only snickered, "Yeah, sure," he said, "she's a big girl, she can take care of herself," then, his cackles got evil again, "but once she's back, I will be here to remind her of this all over again."

As he often did, Kayden came out of this victoriously. However, there was an unsuspecting victim in all of this, he who received the stray blow from the terrified you.

"...Didn't have to bring my balls into this," Kartein muttered sourly.

Though, Kayden didn't care. That was what he got for joining you in the circus, too. Better for you both to know than mess with him now.

#kayden break #kayden break x reader #eleceed #eleceed x reader #fics

[ten-cent-sleuth]

A Galling Yoke, Part 13

<- Prev | Next ->

for the “It’s all my fault” and “You have to let me go” squares on my July Break Bingo card

See this post for main info, including a masterlist and synopsis. See this post for warnings.

Word Count: 3.6k

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x f!Reader

Rating: Teen

“Oh, goodness, are you up and about already?” he exclaimed.

“W–William?” you managed to say.

“What are you doing out of bed and out here?”

“I? What am I doing here?” you stammered. “What are you doing in this flat at all!”

Your brother didn’t seem to hear you as he enveloped you in his arms, inadvertently breaking your contact with Sherlock to hold you tight. “Dear sister,” he said into your hair. “You looked so ill when I arrived. I was already worried when Holmes dropped me off at Voss House and you were not there, but when he detailed your condition upon appearing on his doorstep… I cannot believe you met that dreadful Mr Trew all by yourself—”

“Trew?” Somewhat reluctantly, you broke from the warm embrace to look at William. “Is that the name of the hired—” You were suddenly hyper-aware of Sherlock’s gaze on you. “That— That is, who is this Mr Trew you speak of, William?”

He gave you a sad smile. “Holmes knows everything, Sister. He came to see me last week, and as soon as he told me what you planned to do, I… I confessed all.”

 Your skin felt as cold, as clear, as fragile as ice. ���No.”

“Yes, I—”

“No, William,” you gasped, clutching at him. “You cannot—”

A steady hand landed on your shoulder. Softly, Sherlock said, “My lady, we need not make any decisions yet. Let us simply discuss the facts first, yes?”

With an exhale, you shakily released your anxiety. “All right.”

Still holding onto you, William led you to the dining table. “I have prepared breakfast,” he told you, tentatively, the way he used to shyly give you hand-crafted gifts as a child. Maybe that likeness was why you couldn’t help but smile kindly at him.

“Indeed? And do you manage food better than Sherlock?”

A strangled noise of outrage came from beside you, but you brushed it aside at your brother’s laugh.

“I should hope so!” he said. “I have been interested in the skill for years. It is an uncommon pastime for the heir apparent of an earl, I know, but it gets to be so lonely and empty at Jotyard Manor. My only enjoyment came from visiting with the tenants to manage the estate—which is how I was introduced to the world of baking and cooking. Of course, with Father usually looming over my shoulder, it has only been in recent months that I have been able to dedicate significant time to my hobby.”

Taking that in, you nodded. “Recently, he would have been far more occupied with Sherlock’s case than with ensuring you were the perfect heir.”

William’s smile wavered. “Indeed.”

“How did Father become involved at all?” you demanded.

“My last Season in Town, I met a…a woman. She was lovely, and accomplished, and thoughtful, and diverting, and I— I—”

“They fell in love,” stated Sherlock.

“Yes. The eldest daughter of the second son of a baron, Miss—”

“Goulding!” you exclaimed. “Miss Emily Goulding?”

Both men stared at you.

“How did you—?”

“Mere bavardage over tea.” You waved away their astonishment. “At least, I had thought it was. Dashed you not the lady’s hopes?”

He winced. “I meant not to, but I suppose I did, yes. When I decided I had found her who could be my partner in and for life, I…I remembered what I had done.”

A heavy silence fell over the table, so thick you felt suffocated.

“Miss Goulding was everything bright and perfect,” whispered William. “And I could not taint that with my sins. The realisation sent me spiralling, and before I knew it, I was confessing all to Father.”

Sherlock drummed his fingers on the table. “I have seen it many a time before. The human need to unburden oneself—the urge to divulge. What is remarkable in this case is that Pashbroke did not merely want some soul to know his crime: he wanted the truth to come out to everyone.”

“But of course, Father would not allow that,” you said. Lord Coltidge had told you that much.

Sherlock nodded. “That is where I came in. He would have me uncover the murder but not the culprit—not the true one, at least. But when you”—he tipped his head in your direction—“threw all our evidence in the fire and claimed you had hired the killer, I knew it could not be so.”

The detective had slipped into his investigator trance, laying out simple facts with a gravity that was concentrated and cold, yet you somehow felt weightless and flushed.

“After thinking and planning for some days, I returned to Shropshire to see you”—this time, he tipped his head in William’s direction—“and as we filled each other in on the happenings, the pieces came together.”

“The letter,” you spoke up; it was the main piece you didn’t understand. “That was you, Brother, was it not?”

He had been avoiding your gaze, but abruptly, he met your eyes with a burnish to his. “I knew Sulyard would be a poor husband for you—at Harrow, he was known as temperamental and spoilt, which could have only been abidable by a wife of a different disposition than yours. I could not imagine the two of you agreeing on much and being happy together, but I was not aware that he was an utter…utter savage until I came to stay in Voss House with you for the first time.”

Carefully, you kept your face blank as you thought back to that period of your life. The arrangement was an unusual one, but it had worked for the two families involved: the Voss London home was part of your dowry, so it belonged to you and Edmund, with the caveat that your brother would get to use it during the Season until he married. Ultimately, William had only had to manage this awkward balance with Edmund thrice, each one progressively tenser as you tried to keep Edmund from blowing his top and William from seeing it. But the first time…

“Edmund was not so bad yet, in that first year of our marriage,” you said.

Sherlock’s lip curled into a snarl, but before he could make any biting remarks, William said flatly—

“I heard how he spoke to you. I saw how you hid away from him. You were not you, Sister; your light had dimmed, your life was being squeezed out of you—and I knew it was his doing.”

You swallowed hard, but your mouth had gone unnaturally dry. You hadn’t realised that…

“When I returned home,” continued William, “I tried to speak to Father, but he insisted that Sulyard had been a complete gentleman to him. So I wrote to Sulyard directly, if anonymously. I had hoped warning him about his behaviour would suffice, but when I returned the next Season, I saw it would not. I spent those months trying to think of a solution, but I—” Jaw clenched, he shook his head. “I was a fool for taking my time. So naïve was I that I even returned to Jotyard when the Season ended, thinking I could continue my planning from there. When Mrs Rogers wrote to us about your fall down the stairs, when I came straight to Town and saw for myself the brutality Sulyard was capable of…I knew I could waste no more time.”

“Perhaps you could have found another solution with a less panicked, less hurried mind,” said Sherlock. “But I understand entirely that your greatest concern in that instant would not have been finding the perfect plan, but taking too long to execute it and being…” He cleared his throat. “Being too late.”

To let them stew in their thoughts for a moment, you stood and fixed some plates for the three of you. They both really are affected by the idea of me being hurt. As strongly as you disapproved of William’s high-handedness in protecting you without involving you, you could appreciate now that he had not seen another option; if Edmund’s mistreatment really had been more visible than you’d thought, William must have known it would have proven difficult to get close enough to you that he could consult you with Edmund remaining none the wiser.

William’s breakfast really was delightful, but you stored that comment away for another time. “So,” you ventured, “the plan you came up with was this Mr Trew?”

Your brother picked at his food with more vigour than he nodded. “He is a mason who also offers his expertise with his hands and tools for…non-masonry-related work. We met a few times to work out our understanding, and he had seemed perfectly respectable, if a little rough around the edges.”

“For one who had such dark dealings,” cut in Sherlock.

“Yes, that,” conceded William. “It was not until the night of the actual, er, job that I learnt just how ruthless the man could be.”

You sucked in a breath. “You were there?”

“Not until the end,” he reassured you. You did not feel particularly reassured. “I had agreed to provide the phaeton for the set-up of Sulyard’s accident, so I had to be there eventually. But when I arrived, I saw the, ah…the woman with whom Sulyard had been spending the evening. Trew had thought her dead as well, but I ascertained that she breathed yet. I was horrified that she had been injured so grievously, and even more so when Trew hesitated not to finish her off.” He pushed away his plate with a clatter. “I had only wanted that degenerate Sulyard dead, not any innocent bystanders!”

You reached out and grasped his shaking hands in yours. “Of course, William. It is not your fault.”

“How can you say that?” he choked out.

Squeezing his hands, you waited until he looked up to speak. “Because I can guess”—you faltered at Sherlock’s sharp look and cleared your throat—“that is, deduce what happened next. Miss Algar is still alive and indeed under better care than she likely was with Edmund. You must have told Mr Trew that you would handle the eyewitness, that you would ensure she caused not any trouble. A man like that would not have been mollified by words, so you must have forced his hand—you used yourself as insurance, did you not?”

With a few surprised blinks, William’s distress dissipated from his face. “Yes, it was so. I had, needless to say, agreed to keep quiet about Trew’s hand in Sulyard’s death, but I refused to do so about Miss Algar. I would be willing to implicate myself if he harmed her any further, and to avoid that, he would have had to silence both of us. With my help, Sulyard could be made to disappear, and an unmarried spinster with no family would vanish easily enough, but Trew would not risk killing the Earl of Coltidge’s only son.” He paused. “Yes, indeed. You are rather good at this, Sister.”

Sherlock’s sly grin of agreement shone in your periphery, but you shoved away the butterflies in your stomach in favour of staying focused.

“Well, Mr Trew must be regretting that decision now,” you said. “He believes a connection has been uncovered between Miss Algar and him. I doubt he shall continue as he has been with that loose end prodding at him.”

“Not to mention the added loose end of his encounter with you,” said Sherlock.

Flinching, William yanked his hands out of your grip. “Oh, dear heaven! I forgot all about your injuries—”

“Oh, Brother—”

“Sherlock told me about your head wound and your burns and your—”

“William.”

“He says this ‘second degree’ bosh means you shall be all right but I cannot help but think—”

“Pashbroke.” Sherlock’s interjection is a clean cut, short and neat. “The head wound is already nicely healed. The burns were only partial-thickness and posed no complications—I doubt a faint scar shall even be noticeable by Christmas.”

You considered the spotless, precisely wrapped dressing around your hands. “Is that so?”

“Yes, I am fairly confident,” he said, turning to you now. “From your description of the incident and from the look of the injuries at first and at subsequent intervals where I cleaned your bandages, I would say the current had not been so strong.”

An unexpected rush of guilt-polluted air escaped your lungs. “Would you say, then, that Mr Trew was not overly harmed by his shock either? Not…killed?”

A beat passed. William’s expression morphed more dramatically, but Sherlock’s reaction was faster—without hesitation, he leaned forward and bent his head to look straight into your eyes.

“I assure you, my lady, if any harm has befallen him, it is not your fault.”

Your head moved up and down in agreement, but to your own surprise, tears began to flow down your face. “This is all such a mess. I want not Mr Trew to die, nor can we let him hurt anyone at Cable Street or us ever again. I want not to go to Scotland Yard, nor can I let my little brother be punished for saving me. Such a mess—and it is my fault, Sherlock. How are we to fix any of this? Oh,” you sobbed, “it is all my fault.”

He was out of his seat and moving towards you before you were finished speaking, yet William stopped him with a quick hand on his arm.

“Holmes, would you please excuse us?” he said. “I think a candid conversation is long overdue between my sister and me.”

Though he hesitated, and did not look particularly pleased, Sherlock bowed his head and made himself scarce. Not pulling his punches, William immediately turned to you and said, “You have only just made me accept that I am not at fault, and you go and blame yourself?”

Having no idea how to respond—had your brother ever spoken so frankly to you, or to anyone, before?—you focused on cleaning your face with a napkin.

“This is not a question of fault transferred, Sister, but of burdens shared.”

“I want not to burden you either—”

He stunned you speechless with an uncharacteristically sharp shake of his head. “Why not? A heavy load is not necessarily a bad thing, or else there would be no joy to be had in exploring the world with your belongings on your back, no satisfaction to be found in the physical labour of a tenant-farm or of a modest kitchen.”

“But this is not your heavy load, William.”

“It is no evil to share a burden if one chooses to make it a connective affair rather than a…budgetary one.” At the arch of your eyebrow, he explained, “I allow that this is a poor metaphor. But why keep track of assets and liabilities instead of the bridges they build? After all, what made our bond is our Hyatt blood and Voss name, but what made our bond inimitable and special is the loss of our mother together, the loneliness of our childhood home, the limelight of being the Earl of Coltidge’s offspring.”

As he paused to take a breath, you reached out and, this time, held him tight.

He went on, “Rather than defy it, we ought to be grateful for what we have shared, burdens or not, for by that connection, I shall never lose you.”

“I would hold onto that connection no matter what,” you whispered against his shoulder. You ached with the recollection of the times he would skin his knee or be upbraided by a tutor, and you would pick him up or hug him close and let him cry into your neck. Your arms would start to slip around him and your skin would get covered in mucus, but oh, what you wouldn’t give now for the power you had then, however minimal, to reassure, to protect, to shield him.

Your brother—your little brother, heavens—cupped the back of your head and held you fast. “I have no doubt of it,” he said. “Because we shall always be brother and sister, you have to let me go—”

“William,” you begged.

“—and because we shall always love and be connected to each other, I know you can.”

Screwing your eyes shut, you leaned fully into him and stayed there for a very long time.

At some point, you managed to pull away with a sigh. “You have become rather wise, have you not, Baby Brother?”

He wrinkled his nose. “There is no need for such a sobriquet. You are not that much older than I.”

“Evidently, I am also losing ground in emotional maturity.”

“And worldly experience.” A smile, timid but bright, spread across his face then. “Did you know, I did always envy you your widow’s freedom? Without fail, I was despondent when I returned to Father’s shadow after my annual stay in Town, but this year, I have started actively chafing at his restrictions and observations. I am almost looking forward to the shedding of my viscountcy.”

Your brow rose. “Truly? You are ready to be cast off as an unspeakable name in the Voss family and make your own way in the world?”

“Well, I am ready to learn to be ready,” huffed William. Neither of you, then, was under the illusion that losing access to all that privilege and all those funds would be a smooth transition. “Though, of a certainty, I shall make use of the connexion one last time: to escape the hangman’s noose and avoid the French’s national razor.”

A cold sweat passed over you, yet you found comfort in his words. Lord Pashbroke may not be an actual peer of the realm—not yet, or ever now—but as a titled gentleman, he still was unlikely to be condemned to death. The “Lord” before his name might only be a courtesy, but courtesy had its perks.

“Wherever you are sent,” you promised him, “you may write to me for assistance of any kind, at any time. You shall not be completely friendless in the world.”

His smile turned bold, a sight you had never been granted before, as he leaned forward to kiss your forehead. “I know.”

The two of you stood and cleared the table, cleaning up side by side, surprisingly in sync for siblings who had never done housework, never mind balanced it together, prior to that morning. And as you did, you reminisced over cosy memories of Jotyard Manor and the handful of escapades that had somehow remained secrets between the two of you. You seized the opportunity to tell each other things you had never found the time to before—apologies and affirmations alike—and gratitude really did creep up on you. Many people did not get this opportunity to say goodbye, you knew.

Still, your heart leapt to your throat when Sherlock returned: you did not want this time with your brother to end. Sherlock must have read something in your mien, for he actually resembled a fish for a moment before managing to speak.

“Is… Is everything decided, then?”

You looked at William with wide eyes. If he had suddenly changed his mind, you would not blame him and would still happily take his place. But there was a firm set to his jaw that looked unfamiliar yet not unsuitable on him.

“Yes,” he replied. “In fact, I should not like to drag my feet any longer. I shall head to Scotland Yard now, before any more obstacles or incidents arise.”

Sherlock’s nod was level, but the flex of his previously taut hands betrayed his relief. “You ought not to be alone for that. Besides, my escorting you can ensure that the constabulary gets the correct message.”

That shot another dose of stress through your nerves. “I would come, too,” you said.

Sherlock pulled back his shoulders. “No, my lady, you must remain here. Your body is still recuperating from your illness.”

And your knee from pushing it, the reasonable, responsible part of your brain added traitorously.

William took your hand and squeezed your fingers. “This past hour we have received is, I believe, a very good adieu,” he said softly. “Please, let us not change it?”

And you could not deny him that.

You walked them to the door of the flat, and Sherlock let William exit first.

“Be well, Sister,” he said with one last hug. “I love you, and I thank you for everything. Everything.”

You watched him start down the stairs so intently that you didn’t notice that Sherlock wasn’t following.

“I hope you shall not worry yourself too much,” he said, and startling, you turned to look at him. “His lordship shall be all right. And whatever does happen, this is not your fault. I apologise for my hand in making you think that it was.”

You startled again. “Your hand?”

His eyebrows beetled solemnly. “I should not have reproved you for marrying Sulyard. I acted as though you were foolish and weak for not fighting your father’s wishes and for growing into the perfectly poised lady you never were at Ferndell when, in truth, doing so was the wisest, bravest way for you to survive. Of all the players in this game, you have gained the least and lost the most.”

In spite of your brother’s uncertain fate and Mr Trew’s unknown next moves and the general surfeit of emotions about everything, you felt a smile break out on your face. “Oh, Sherlock.” You didn’t know what else to say, so you settled for stepping into his space and pressing a kiss to his cheek, which lingered until you found the words. “You should not worry, either. I think I too shall be all right.”

And you realised, after going back into 221b to watch and wait, as you pondered William’s words, that you truly believed you would be.

And with that, the mystery has been fully revealed to the reader! It has been an incredible journey; thank you all so much for reading, liking, reblogging, and commenting. But fear not—we’ve still got other plotlines to wrap up. :) Also, William was surprisingly tricky to write, and I’m not fully satisfied with the dialogue flow, so as always, feedback is welcome!

Taglist [comment below if you’d like to be added!]: @theyaremorethanjustfictional @wonderlandfandomkingdom

#sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #henry cavill sherlock x reader #enola holmes #a galling yoke #the dimensions of fandom

[torreshalstead]

On a crowded street in 1944 - Chapter 14

Summary - The four walls of Upton’s General Store were all Hailey knew although she longed to see what else life had to offer. When a handsome soldier walks through the door, she thinks he might just be the answer to the life she wants to have. But it was 1944 and the country was at war. Would fate smile on her or would her heart be another casualty of the war?

Chapters - 14/16

Notes - I can’t believe we are so close to the end of this story, just an epilogue and a bonus chapter to go. Thank you so much for reading! AO3 Link

‘Where have you been?’ Ivan Upton barked loudly when Hailey walked into the store. Her grip on Jay’s hand tightened slightly. This was what she wanted and she wasn’t going to let her father tell her she couldn’t have it, she had already bent to his wishes more times than she could count. She wasn’t about to do it again.

‘I was seeing Oscar,’ she said truthfully, walking towards the back counter.

‘Oh,’ her father said, huffing slightly. ‘You were supposed to be manning the store.’

He hadn’t picked up his gaze from where it was scanning the business pages of the paper, his version of the Bible.

‘I needed to speak to him about the wedding,’ she swallowed deeply. ‘About calling it off.’

‘Calling it off!’ He yelled, his fierce gaze staring at her and then flicking to Jay who was standing firm next to her. When his eyes fell to their joined hands, Hailey would have put money on the fact smoke started to come out of his ears. ‘What the hell is going on Hailey?’

‘This is Jay Halstead,’ Hailey said, trying to keep her voice steady, even with her fathers fury spiralling around them. ‘Jay and I are to be wed.’

‘You’re already engaged young lady, you will be marrying Oscar not this boy,’ he spat, spittle flying from his mouth. Turns out even a soldier's uniform didn’t impress him, Hailey wondered if Jay had come in with a fistful of money in each hand if the reaction would have been any different.

‘Oscar already agreed to end the engagement, he doesn’t want to marry me,’ she said.

‘I don’t give a damn what he wants, the licence is as good as signed,’ he snarled.

‘But it isn’t signed and I will be marrying Jay.’ She was thankful for Jay’s calming presence next to her, he hadn’t said a word yet, letting her lead the way but she knew he’d jump in the very moment she needed him to.

‘Like hell you will!’

‘I will be marrying Jay with or without your permission, father,’ she said, breathing through her nose to keep herself calm. ‘I would like you to be happy for me though.’

‘Happy for you,’ he scoffed, his tone dismissive. ‘You’ve just blown up the biggest deal I’ve ever made.’

That was the final straw for Hailey, she had tried to stay calm, to be rational and reasonable but that had come to an end.

‘That’s the problem father,’ she sneered at the word. ‘My marriage shouldn’t be a business deal, I want to get married for love, not to add some zero’s to the bottom of your ledger. I am in love with Jay and he loves me, he’s loved me for months, longer than you’ve been arranging this deal for. So I will be marrying him.’

‘Hailey Anne Upton-’ he started, his bloodshot eyes bulging in their sockets.

‘I’ll be Hailey Anne Halstead on Monday morning, you are welcome to join us but if you cannot be happy for me and my new husband, please do not.’ Hailey had never felt so brave and she would put most of it down to the firm grip that Jay had on her hand, he had never wavered in his support for her. ‘Now I’m going to speak to introduce Jay to mother. Good day.’

She marched past him with Jay following suit, her fathers mouth hanging open. She had never had the gall to answer back to him before, and years of pent up energy had come spilling out of her without much control.

‘I’ll follow you up,’ Jay said softly when they reached the bottom of the stairs, he nodded when she looked like she was about to argue but there was something in his eyes that made her agree.

She didn’t go up though, she waited in the shadows and listened intently as Jay walked back into the store.

‘Mr Upton,’ Jay said, and Hailey’s chest tightened. She knew her father well, he could fly off the handle at the smallest of things and Hailey had as good as detonated a bomb in the middle of the store. Unstable was too polite of a word to describe him right now. ‘I wanted to let you know that I love your daughter and I will honour and protect her for everyday the good lord gives me in this life. I will support her with every penny I have, she is my family. I understand if you cannot accept that, or me, but I hope one day you will be able to. Because that woman out there is my life, and I will lay down mine for her if I need to.’

He didn’t wait for her father to answer and Hailey met him in the stairwell, tears streaming down her face. She didn’t say anything, just pressed her lips to his, smiling through the tears.

Not only had he given her the bravery to tell her father what she wanted but he had cemented it by speaking to him himself. He didn’t yell, he didn’t raise his voice or threaten him, he calmly told him that he loved her. She had never felt so much love from another person as she did in that moment. She had never thought it was possible. She should have known with Jay back in her life that anything was possible.

——————————————————————————

The meeting with her mother went much better, she pulled Jay into a tight hug even though Hailey was sure her father would have deemed it inappropriate. Her mother could see the love the young man had for her daughter and that was all that seemed to matter.

Back outside underneath the streetlight where they had both shared their first kiss and been reunited after too many months apart, Hailey once again stood with Jay, the brown paper package he had pressed into her hand the day before held tightly in her grasp.

‘You didn’t need to get me something,’ Hailey muttered as she let her fingers trace over the smooth paper. ‘You returning home is the greatest gift you could ever give me.’

‘I made a promise Hailey, and I am nothing if not a man of my word,’ he pressed a soft kiss to her hair and gestured for her to open the package.

Hailey’s fingers carefully undid the twine that was neatly tying it together and slipped her fingers underneath the wrapping. The familiar feeling of a book greeted her and she smiled up at Jay.

Removing all the paper which Jay took off her and pocketed, a copy of The Death of the Heart by Elizabeth Bowen is now sat in Hailey’s hands. Her fingers stroked delicately across the cover and down the unbroken spine of their own accord.

‘I promised I’d buy you a new book, seemed a fitting engagement present,’ he smiled warmly down at her as the tears were pricking at the corners of her eyes.

She never imagined she could be this happy - the man of her dreams was standing in front of her, their wedding was only days away and she was holding a book that had never been read by anyone else. This was the moment that people wrote about in books, a moment she never thought she would get.

——————————————————————————

They were married on the following Monday, just as Hailey had told her father.

They had managed to get an expedited licence from the church, apparently they were not the only couple who wanted to tie the knot quickly upon the end of the war. The dress her mother had made her for her other wedding was altered slightly, removing any of the suggestions that Mrs Farrell had made. It was much more Hailey now and her mother had helped her get dressed that morning, her eyes shining with tears.

Eugenia Upton had taken the news much better than her husband, pulling both Hailey and Jay into a tight hug and wishing them all the best.

Her father had given her the silent treatment in the days leading up to the wedding but he hadn’t kicked her out of the apartment like she had initially anticipated. She had expected to wake up to all her belongings being tossed haphazardly into bags and thrown onto the street but instead she had been ignored, as if she didn’t exist. Which, Hailey realised, if she was no longer part of the cogs that made the store work, was probably how she was viewed in her fathers eyes.

Still, it didn’t matter. She had Jay.

He had managed to find them a small apartment not too far away, it wasn’t any bigger than the one Hailey’s family currently lived in and he had apologised profusely when he had told her that Will would be moving in with them until he could find a place of his own. She didn’t mind though, it would be nice, getting to make the place a home and as Jay had said, they were family. Will was included in that.

She wasn’t moving in until after the wedding, they may have gotten an expedited licence but they wouldn’t live in sin. Monday came soon enough.

Jay and Hailey walked arm in arm into the church, a couple of the regulars from the shop were in attendance, Mrs Stevens with a big hat, Mrs Smith her eyes full of tears, she was a hopeless romantic after all and Mr Richards, his camera in hand, who Hailey made a mental note to introduce to Jay after the ceremony.

Hailey’s mother was there, sitting in the front row along with Will, Jay’s brother, who Hailey had met the previous evening.

Her father was notably absent. But it didn’t sting as much as she thought it might. He had made his decision and she had made hers.

She was more than ready to move on from a life in the store where her dreams and ambitions were put into little jars and then forgotten about. And as the minister pronounced them husband and wife, she knew her new life was waiting for her just around the corner.

——————————————————————————

Hailey and Jay strolled arm in arm towards the cemetery.

‘Are you upset that your father wasn’t there?’ Jay asked quietly as he held open the kissing gate for her.

‘I thought I would be,’ she admitted honestly, ‘but no. If he isn’t ready to love me in this life then he is the one missing out.’

‘I love you,’ Jay said, leaning down to press his lips to her forehead. Hailey closed her eyes and relished in the feeling. It was new and unusual, being able to show affection out in the open without worrying what other people might think.

Jay led the way over to where his mothers grave was tucked at the back of the cemetery, the plot was well looked after, the grass recently trimmed and the headstone had been polished, it shone brightly in the sun.

‘Hi Mom,’ he said quietly as they approached it. ‘Thought you’d like to meet my wife.’

Hailey’s stomach tightened, she still hadn’t got used to being called his wife yet, but it wasn’t the bad kind of tightening full of apprehension and worry, it was full of excitement of what was to come.

‘Hello Mrs Halstead,’ Hailey said, placing down the small bouquet of flowers that her own mother had put together for her wedding day. It seemed right to give them to Jay’s mother. ‘I hope you know how wonderful your son has turned out.’

Jay squeezed her hand a little tighter and Hailey didn’t need to look over at him to know his eyes would be swimming with tears.

‘This is the girl I told you about the morning I left Ma,’ Jay said. Hailey hadn’t realised he had visited the cemetery that morning, it must have been just after he dropped off the book for her. The book that was still one of her most prized possessions. ‘I married her like I told you I would.’

They took a seat, crossed legged on the dry ground, Jay setting down his jacket so Hailey’s white dress wouldn’t be stained. They talked to each other and to the headstone for a while, sharing stories, some they had both heard before and some that were still new to each other. Hailey knew they had gotten married quickly, that there was still a lot she didn’t know about her husband and he her, but she knew she loved him. And that was enough.

He was a good man. And hearing him talk to his mother only cemented that fact in her mind.

The sun started to wain in the evening sky and Jay made the first move to get up.

‘We should go Mom, but we will be back to visit you soon,’ he offered Hailey a hand and pulled her to her feet as well.

‘I’ll give you two a moment,’ Hailey said, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. ‘I’ll be by the gate.’

Jay nodded and let her walk away. She knew as well as anyone that sometimes you needed a moment with a parent, either here or on the other side, without anyone listening in. By the time her feet had carried her to the gate and she turned to face the way she had come, Jay was already walking towards her.

‘She loves you,’ Jay said, threading his fingers through hers, the newly familiar feeling of his rough skin against hers warming her from the inside out. ‘Let’s go home Mrs Halstead, and hope my brother hasn’t eaten all the cake.’

‘I can always bake us another,’ Hailey chuckled.

‘I have plans for you this evening my love that do not involve baking,’ Jay murmured softly even though there was no one around. ‘Will is going to the local with some of his friends, I’ve offered him money to stay out until first light.’

Hailey couldn’t help the blush that spread across her cheeks and her chest at the thought of her first night alone with Jay, she’s read enough romance books and her mother had pulled her aside this morning to give her the talk as well. She had heard other brides were nervous of taking the next step with their spouses, but she was excited. She loved Jay and knew he loved her with every ounce of his being, he would be gentle, tender and kind and would show her how much she was treasured.

‘I hope you paid him enough,’ Hailey sassed as she fell into step next to him. ‘You never get a second chance at a wedding night.’

‘But we do have the rest of our lives to practise,’ Jay winked and tugged Hailey into his chest dramatically, eliciting a small squeal from his wife. ‘And I for one, cannot wait for the rest of our lives Hailey.’

‘Me neither,’ she said, letting herself get lost in the feelings of his lips against hers not caring that there could be passerby’s tutting at their frivolous behaviour. They were newly weds, it was to be partially expected after all.

#upstead #hailey upton #jay halstead #chicago pd #one Chicago #upstead fic #hailey x jay #chicago pd fic #upstead fanfic #chicago pd fanfiction #upstead fanfiction #chicago pd fanfic

[house-of-mirrors]

@awordbroken @thedeafprophet IT WHAT

i gotta psychoanalyze it now... Lady Macbeth....

Act 1 Scene 5 comes to mind first:

Thou wouldst be great, Art not without ambition, but without The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst highly, That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false And yet wouldst wrongly win. 

Summary: Lady Macbeth has learned the witches have predicted Macbeth will be King of Scotland. She believes he has ambition but lacks ruthlessness to take the crown, that one must be willing to do unholy things to get what you want. Continuing--

Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full Of direst cruelty. Make thick my blood. Stop up th’ access and passage to remorse, That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between Th’ effect and it. Come to my woman’s breasts And take my milk for gall, you murd’ring ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature’s mischief. Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark To cry “Hold, hold!”

Summary: Lady Macbeth asks the spirits to remove her feminine kindness and replace it with cold, heartless ambition. One must be completely compassionless to rule. The last two lines particularly fascinate me in relation to Fires and the crimes against the stars.

And uh. Yeah the part. Fires talks about having been good at bearing children and. Yeah

Ahhhh but Fires you forget Act 5 Scene 1... Lady Macbeth gets what she wants, she gets all the power and glory, but the guilt of what she had to do to take the throne, and what she has to keep doing to maintain power, destroys her (I believe Fires knows, to some degree, that what it's doing is wrong, it gets all defensive when you bring up particularly nasty crimes in LF)

Why then, ’tis time to do ’t. Hell is murky. Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?

[...]

To bed, to bed. There’s knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come. Give me your hand. What’s done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed.

[...]

DOCTOR Foul whisp’rings are abroad. Unnatural deeds Do breed unnatural troubles. Infected minds To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets. More needs she the divine than the physician. God, God forgive us all.

Or does Fires, deep down, know its trajectory of ambition and conquest will only end with it undone... yet it still continues to do so anyway because it doesn't understand how it could pursue any other ending... It's a tragedy? Always has been

(Folger Shakespeare Library Updated Edition of 2013 text used)

#i have an english minor and macbeth is one of my favs #shakespeare is my thing #lore discussion

[tranakin-skywalker]

how exactly does tcw handle zygerria? i’ve been really adverse to watching it because of what i’ve seen surrounding anakin’s characterisation in that arc and i don’t know if i’d feel up to it even if the angst potential is soo high and fucked up and could be interesting to explore

It's... not great I'll be honest.

I'm not sure how much you're familiar with the arc, but they have Anakin go undercover as a slaver, which, okay sure. Going undercover in a way that is deeply uncomfortable and traumatic for him, but means saving innocent people, really great opportunity to explore Anakin's character and what an experience like that would do to him. Only, the show doesn't bother with any of that.

He acts pretty unbothered about the whole thing. Not in a way that makes it seem like he's deflecting, either. He really doesn't seem all that bothered about pretending to be a slave master, or that he has to whoo the queen of a slave empire.

And it's not like the creators forgot that he was a child slave and lived this reality for the first nine years of his life. He outright mentions the fact that his mother was sold in a slave market like the one they're walking through at one point.

Then there's the whole thing with Ahsoka posing as his slave. I... cannot imagine any universe where Anakin would be okay with something like that. Putting her in that position does not seem in character for him at all.

Then you add in some of the dialogue the writers put in there...

Who are you and what have you done with my boy?

This just does not in any shape way or form seem in character for him? Making light of the situation and joking about things to distract from how viscerally uncomfortable this is all making him? Sure. But not like this.

And then there's the end of the arc, where (spoilers) the Zygerrian Queen dies. This is a character who 1) rules a slave empire, 2) has enslaved and tortured Ahsoka, Obi-Wan and Rex and used them as hostages to get Anakin to do what she wants and 3) was implied by the show to have coerced Anakin into sex (genuinely cannot believe a kids show got away with that one) and the creators had the gall to have Anakin cradle her body as she died. The guy who murdered an entire village for killing his mother, held this woman and looked sad as she died.

I do not understand the decisions made here. I really don't.

Honestly, if you're interested in the angst of the episode but not the execution, just skip the show and read some fanfic about the Zygerria arc. There's a lot of really great ones that focus on the events of the arc and the aftermath.

Some of my favorites:

System Reset by That_Ghost_Kristoff. Honestly, this whole series is great

Dog Bites by Husborth

Goes to Ground also by Husborth cuz she's awesome like that

Time by katierosefun

Or you could read the Clone Wars comic of Slaves of the Republic, which actually handles the arc a lot better.

#i really do love the clone wars show #but i cannot get over how out of character anakin feels during most of it #the zygerria arc and the clovis episodes are the worst offenders #but even in the rest of the show he feels like a completely different character to me #anyway. there's a lot more fics out there. those are just the ones i have saved

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Love Across the Galaxy 🌌 | Helmut Zemo Imagine

Contains spoilers for GOTG Vol.3

Link to my Marvel masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Baron Helmut Zemo x Roman Goddess/Guardians!reader (romantic), The Thunderbolts—Baron Zemo, Bucky Barnes, Thaddeus Ross, Valentina Alegra De Fontaine, John Walker, Ghost, Justin Hammer, Taskmaster, Yelena, & Red Hulk (platonic), The Guardians of the Galaxy—Quill, Mantis, Nebula, Drax, Rocket, Groot, Kraglin, & Cosmo (platonic)

Content Warnings: profanity, light angst, fluff, mentions of death, fighting & violence, spoilers for GOTG Vol.3 (don’t read if you haven’t seen it!) | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 4.9k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: In which Baron Helmut Zemo, hater of the Avengers and desire to rid the planet of enhanced beings, becomes a member of the antihero team led by General Thaddeus Ross & CIA Director Valentina Fontaine where he meets the legendary group of misfits turned Guardians of the freakin Galaxy and loses his heart to a Goddess with a love for 80s music and talent for cutting of limbs.

Note: GOTG Vol 3 has permanently altered my brain chemistry and I cannot stop thinking about it. Truly the best film since Endgame & it’s inspired me cause I’m also back to loving Zemo again. I refuse to believe Marvel would give us a Thunderbolts film w/o Zemo so I will make sure he’s in this team.

After learning about all the Gods in Thor: Love & Thunder, picture you are Minerva, the Roman Goddess of Wisdom & War (Roman equivalent to the Greek’s Athena) and has cosmic powers similar to the Eternal’s Thena and has been with the Guardians since the events of the first GOTG film.

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Fall 2023

“I don’t see why we need these people to help us,” Zemo rolled his eyes, strolling beside General Ross with the rest of the team around them. Once outside the cool breeze hit him, ruffling the lapels of his coat as his eyes squinted from the bright light.

Ross lets out a tired sigh, “Because, Zemo, as much as it galls me to admit it this threat is far beyond what we can deal with. It’s not terrestrial and chances are these…” he had trouble coming up with the word, “let’s just say they’re more experienced for this situation.”

They all stop before the flight line. It’s clear all around them with no sign of an approaching vessel.

“Who are these guys again?” Justin Hammer popped some jelly beans in his mouth. John looks down at the file in his hands, making a face as he does.

“They call themselves…The Guardians of the Galaxy.”

“Oh God,” Bucky moans, immediately making mental notes to protect his mental arm knowing a certain talking animal was on the hunt for it. He was gonna have to sleep with one eye open.

Zemo raises his brow, “Friends of yours, James?” Bucky is not pleased by the assumption.

“I wouldn’t call them that.”

“Aren’t they part of the Avengers?” Ava’s tone is slightly disapproving. While Scott Lang and the Pym/Van Dyne’s helped her, she still got bad rep despite doing what she did to survive.

Zemo, not happy with the idea of working with Avengers, snatches the file from Walker.

“Not technically,” Ross replies while Zemo reads over the page. “They arrived with Thor in 2018 against the first battle with Thanos, remained an associate to the team while continuing whatever the hell it is they do in space, and returned in 2023 to defeat the purple bastard once and for all.”

“Did you fight with them, Bucky?” Yelena asks from beside the soldier.

“Yeah,” the memory appears in his mind. Specifically where he grabbed Rocket by the scruff and spun them in circles to cover more area as they fired off their guns. “Our interactions were brief…but memorable.”

The Baron had seen many things over the years, like the rest of humanity with the formation of the Avengers and reveal of intergalactic and enhanced beings, but to stay he wasn’t thinking, ‘what the fuck?’ by the picture in front of him would be a lie.

An earthling turned ravager, a blue mercenary, a woman with antennas, a genetically engineered raccoon, a living tree, a gray alien that could take down Thor, a man with a metal Mohawk, a telekinetic dog, and an exiled sword wielding Goddess. All misfits and outcasts, mostly space criminals turned superhero guardians of the cosmos.

Well….they were quite the bunch.

“They are not still with the Avengers, I take it?” Zemo wanders around, eyes lingering on the Goddess. White streaks adorned her natural hair color, eyes gold and lips painted with what appeared to be a permanent smirk. She wore a gold and white headpiece that had an owl extending its wings.

Name/Alias: Minerva, Goddess of War; Race: Deity; Planet of Origin: Caelum; Age: approx. 2500 yrs (39 Earth yrs); Occupation: Warrior/Mercenary/Defender of the Andromeda Galaxy; Allegiance: The High Council of Caelum (formerly), Guardians of the Galaxy, Thor, God of Thunder, The Avengers (formerly); Abilities: Cosmic manipulation, enhanced strength, agility, speed, & durability, thermal detection & mental teleportation; Specialization: artillery and battle strategy.

Ross let out a sigh, “only when the planet is about to go to shit due to an intergalactic threat. Which we’ve now got on our hands, but considering the Avengers are all on sabbatical I’m sending you in,” he checks his watch, “but I need all the extra hands and like I said, they’re experienced.”

Zemo stares at the blank sky, “How will we know they've arrived?”

“Believe me,” Ross mutters under his breath. “You’ll know.”

A loud rumbling noise caught everyone’s attention, gazes turning upward as a hexagon shaped breech in the sky revealed a very large spaceship in its wake, followed by the distinct lyrics of AC/DC’s ‘Back to Black.’

“Back in black. I hit the sack. I’ve been too long, I’m glad to be back. Yes, I’m let loose. From the noose. That’s kept me hanging about.”

“Oh my,” Yelena breathed out, hair flying back from the gust of wind. Zemo lifted a hand to cover his face from the leaves, as did the others, many wide eyed.

“I’ve been looking at the sky. ‘Cause it’s gettin’ me high. Forget the hearse ‘cause I never die. I got nine lives. Cat’s eyes. Abusin’ every one of them running wild.”

“Great song,” Justin voiced, grinning from ear to ear. The ship made its descent, music getting louder.

“‘Cause I’m back. Yes, I’m back. Well, I’m back,” it approached the tarmac, “Yes, I’m back. Well, I’m back, back.” wheels hit the tarmac, engine powering down but music still blasting, “Well, I’m back in black,” the ship doors opened, revealing steps extending to the ground, “Yes, I’m back in black.”

It was almost like a scene from a movie. Slow-motion if one will by how the Guardians exited their ship and stepped foot on the tarmac with AC/DC on full volume. All dressed in their new suits of red and blue leather with the Ravager flames on the chest.

Arriving in style.

Quill led with the rest flanking his sides. Drax munching on snacks while Nebula looked menacing and Groot towered over everyone. Cosmo had her tongue out in excitement, Rocket carrying his gun strapped to his back. Mantis’s chin held high, like she was on top of the world and Kraglin trying not to appear lost. Lastly Minerva was drinking a caprisun, Ray Bans covering her gold eyes.

Zemo tilts his head in amusement at the sight. He expected the Goddess, of war nonetheless, to have a more menacing approach like Nebula considering her reputation. But she was just as relaxed and laid back as Drax.

The Guardians walked several paces until they were directly in front of the Thunderbolts. It was then the music stopped, Ross being the first to address them. “You sure know how to make an entrance.”

Quill gave a smug grin, “We know.” Hands go to his hips, “You’re wearing a suit so you must be the boss man. Although I believe there’s also a boss lady we’re here to do business with.”

“Director Fontaine is currently occupied. She’ll be arriving in the morning.”

“I assume we won’t be knowing a damn thing until that happens, huh?”

Ross tightens his lips, “You assume correctly.”

“I told you we should’ve handled it on our own,” Minerva’s glances to Quill annoyed. Surprised by her voice, Zemo's eyebrows raised at her sudden input. Her accent was slightly Italian given her mythological origin is Roman.

Quill clicked his tongue, “We don’t have authority here, Minnie.”

“Midgard is part of the Andromeda Galaxy. Technically we should.”

Now the man was giving her a pointed look after Ross’s body language turned defensive, “I’d rather not get our asses thrown in Earth’s prison system. We go by the rules—the ones we established.”

Minerva grumbles under her breath, finishing the last remnants of her juice pouch, “Would’ve finished the job faster. They wouldn’t even know we were here.”

“Okay well, we’re doing things this way. We’re here as a team to work with a team. Right, Mr. Secretary?”

Ross’ disapproving eyes linger on Minerva, who in return rolls her own, before turning his attention back to Quill, “Yes. Now let’s move on shall we?”

He lets out a breath of relief, “Agreed.” Bidding a warning look to each of his teammates, they all wait for what the man in the suit has to say. Ross extends a hand to the people on either side of him.

“This is my team. All with different levels of skill and experience. Justin Hammer is our tech and weapons specialist,” Justin gives a wave, “Yelena Belova,” Ross points to the blonde in a white tactical suit, “former Black Widow and master assassin.” At the mention of Black Widow Rocket, Nebula, and Minerva all tense, faces becoming solemn at the memory of Natasha. They were the three remaining Guardians during the blip, becoming close with the Avenger.

“Ava Starr, she can phase through anything,” they all look impressed, finding the talent cool. “Antonia Dreykov, who we like to call Taskmaster.”

“Why’s that?” Kraglin asked intrigued.

“She has photographic reflexes and can mimic your fighting powers. Basically use your own moves against you.”

“Niceeee,” all the Guardians echo. Ross points to the two individuals in between Zemo and Yelena.

“Our super soldiers, Captain John Walker and I believe you all know Sergeant Barnes.” Bucky tightens his mouth with a curt nod.

“You still got that arm on ya?” Rocket muses, earning a nudge—well more like a kick—from Minerva. The rest of the Thunderbolts besides Bucky all become wide-eyed at the talking Raccoon…even though it said on the file he could.

But how the fuck else were they suppose to react to a talking raccoon?

All Bucky does is glare, “Don’t even think about it.” Rocket shrugs, “Worth a shot.”

“Why is that one carrying a giant frisbee?” Drax’s mouth is filled with Zargnuts. Walker, the man in question, becomes visibly offended.

“It’s a shield not a frisbee.” Zemo bites back a smirk at the soldier's tone. Not to mention the Guardians' reactions were priceless.

“A shield?” Mantis repeats confused.

“It’s a frisbee,” Drax mumbles.

“Like that circular object Minerva conjures to deflect attacks,” Nebula tiredly explains. Mantis’s mouth forms the shape of an ‘o’.

“And lastly,” Ross sounds just as exhausted as the cyborg, “Baron Helmut Zemo, former intelligence operative.”

“I am Groot,” Zemo’s attention goes to the tree alien, confused by his words. Minerva, seeing his expression, addresses it, “He says he likes your fancy cape.”

‘Cape?’ He thinks, but doesn’t comment on it and his perplexed reaction makes Minerva smirk. Instead Zemo says, “Well, I appreciate the compliment. Thank you.” Groot’s pleased, grinning wide like a child.

It’s then Quill’s turn to formally introduce the Guardians. The Thunderbolts bite back their own amusement at the nicknames and surprise of hearing the dog, Cosmo, speak through her suit with a distinct Russian accent. Afterwards Ross leads them all into the hangar, Minerva removing her sunglasses now that she was inside, allowing her gold eyes to be visible.

From there they all interact, awkwardly for the most part as they have no idea what the hell to do as they wait for further instruction. It soon becomes bickering and even challenging someone in hand-to-hand combat.

Well, what can you expect when a team of heroes meet a team of villains/anti heroes? Rivalry at its finest.

“Any day now, Quill,” Minerva groans, relaxing her stance. Across from her several feet away was Walker, confused by why she was taking so long to attack. They were standing in the middle of the squared off area with the teams surrounding them, but giving enough space to avoid being in the crossfire. Quill was scrolling through his Walkmen.

“What’s he doing?” Zemo whispers to Kraglin, eyes flicking back and forth from the human Guardian and the Goddess.

“Trying to find a good fight song. You know, get the vibes going.” Out on the square Minerva lets out a loud huff signaling her annoyance was increasing.

“Just give me another second—.”

“Quill.”

“I almost got it.”

“Pick a goddamn song!”

“Fine!” Quill shouts, randomly selecting the first one his finger hits. A second later Duran Duran’s ‘Hungry Like the Wolf,’ blasts through all the speakers attached to the Guardians arms. The antiheroes become perplexed, while also noting the song choice. Justin and Yelena started to bop their heads.

“Darken the city, night is a wire. Steam in the subway, earth is afire. (Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do)”

Minerva smirked, retaking her stance. As she lifts her hands, cosmic energy around her consorts to physical matter, taking the shape of a spear and shield in either hand. Wide eyes take over the Thunderbolts.

“Woman, you want me, give me a sign. And catch my breathing even closer behind. (Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do)”

“Wow,” Justin exhales. “In touch with the ground. I’m on the hunt, I’m after you.”

“That’s so cool,” Yelena muses, others muttering in agreement. “Smell like the sound, I'm lost in the crowd. And I’m hungry like the wolf.” Keeping his admirations to himself, Zemo watches the scene unfold in silence.

“First one to step or get thrown out of the square loses,” Bucky shouts over the music, “Ready….” Walker clutches the strap of his shield, Minerva twirling her spear once, “Fight!”

“Stalked in the forest, too close to hide,” Walker lets out a cry, charging at the Goddess. “I’ll be upon you by the moonlight side (Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do,” Minerva blocks his attack, pushing back slightly only to crouch to swipe at his legs, “High blood drumming on your skin, it’s so tight,” Walker dodges her spear, but fails to avoid her kick to his chest, sending him backward. “You feel my heat, I’m just a moment behind.” He brings his shield up in time as her spear barrels down at him. “Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do.”

They continue their one-on-one for several minutes, both coming close to getting the other out of the square and the song changing to ‘Cherry Bomb’ by The Runaways—a favorite amongst the Guardians. The entire time Zemo was mesmerized to say the least. Every move she made was effortless, showcasing strengths and ability to predict Walker's moves.

He hadn’t felt such attraction to a woman in so long. And here he was experiencing a feeling that was almost unfamiliar.

Ultimately Minerva wins the battle in what one would call a divine move. At the peak of the song, Minerva’s golden eyes glow bright resulting in the eyes of the owl headpiece to also glow and become animated. It takes form, coming to life and soars straight at Walker, throwing him off by covering his face.

“What the—uuugh!!” He’s flying through the air, back meeting the harsh ground with an audible groan. The owl leaves him, returning to Minerva and consorting back into a headpiece. When it does her eyes dim back to their normal hue. Her team broke out into whistles and hollars, meanwhile Walker’s were unimpressed.

“Guardians for the win!” Rocket cheered.

“I am Groot!”

“Never underestimate the power of Duran Duran!”

Minerva helps Walker up, “Not bad, soldier.” As she turns to head off the pad, her eyes lock with Zemo’s and a wink is sent his way. Heat rises in the Baron, glancing away to hide his smirk.

Oh boy, trouble was on the horizon.

Next Yelena went against Nebula. Their fight was even more intense and nearly ended in a draw. Eventually Yelena overpowered the cyborg and got her to step out of the square. It was a tie. Groot and Rocket teamed up against Ross in the form of the Red Hulk—which took a lot of convincing—the two claiming the win after fooling the General. Taskmaster beat out Quill, handing his ass to him which had the Guardians in a heap of laughter.

“I enjoyed that more than I should have,” Minerva teases, crossing her arms as she takes a spot beside Zemo. He glances at her, mirroring her expression.

“Not a common occurrence for your friend to lose a fight?”

She scoffs, “You’d be surprised by his record.”

Lastly Bucky went toe-to-toe with Drax, and of course Rocket had to yell, “Take his arm and give it to me!” And well….it ended with them tackling each other out of the square.They didn’t know who won at that point, so the teams were tied 2-2 initiating a debate on who should be crowned the best.

“Okay, let’s call it a day,” Ross announces, ending the squabbling between the groups. “Night’s upon us and frankly I could use a drink. We’ll return here first thing in the morning—7am sharp to discuss the threat and where to go,” he turns to Quill, “we’ve got sleeping quarters arranged for you all if you please. Otherwise my guess is you’ll remain in your ship?”

About an hour later, after both teams settled for the night, Zemo decided to take a walk around the flight line. It became a habit of his since joining the Thunderbolts. A way to clear his mind after a long day of briefings and training. He basked in the peace that came with being alone, but there were times he felt lonely and longing for company to share the peace with.

Ten years since losing his family and the pain never strayed. Yet, he managed to live with it. He accomplished his goal in 2016 when he tore apart the Avengers. Likely is to blame for the loss against Thanos resulting in half of the universe’s population turning into dust for five years.

Did he feel remorse for the consequences of his actions? Possibly. Did he regret it? No. At this rate he’s accepted the reputation he painted himself to be.

“Zemo, correct?” The sudden intrusion spooked the Baron, jumping slightly by the glowing eyes in the darkness. A moment later Minerva stepped into the lighting, eyes dimming to normal. She was still in her suit, though her hair was pulled back, white streaks seeping through the natural color.

“Yes, but you may call me Helmut,” he replied, nodding in greeting to the Goddess.

“Helmut,” she tests the name, “like the headwear people use when they ride bikes or spacesuits?”

“That’s one way to look at it, but yes I suppose so.”

“Interesting. What brings you out this late in the evening?”

He shrugs, “wanted to get away from the constant complaining of my comrades,” eyes go to the sky, “and I like to admire the stars.” Minerva moves to his right, glancing up as well.

“They’re much more incredible up close.” He peers down at her, not bothering to question her judgment. She lives in space after all.

“I bet so. I’m sure the view from here is nothing compared to what you’ve witnessed.”

She shrugs, “These stars you don’t even know if they’re still alive. It took years—possibly millions—for the light to reach Earth.” Zemo looks back up, focusing on the North Star.

“For all we know they burnt out ages ago.”

Their eyes connect, Zemo feeling a weight on his chest by the intensity of her gaze. It’s followed by unease when she says, “Natasha told me about you.”

Instantly he looks away, feeling an unfamiliar wave of dread. “Ah.” Here was a discussion he was not expecting, nor willing, to have.

But Minerva didn’t show criticism. In fact, her gaze and tone resembled understanding. “How do you do it?” The question took him aback.

“Do what, exactly?”

“Align yourself with people who go against what you stand for?” Minerva’s tone wasn’t condescending at all, only curious. “Most of your team are enhanced individuals—two are super soldiers to be exact. You went to many lengths to disband the Avengers and put an end to superheroes,” there’s a slight tilt of her head, eyeing the Baron with intrigue, “but you join a group consisting of people who fall between the spectrum of hero and villain where most are the exact thing you wished to eradicate. Not to mention led by two people you wouldn’t say you share similar moral values with. Why join them?”

For the first time in his life, Zemo was at a loss for words. Not a single word uttered as he tried to comprehend what Minerva had just confronted him with. How could he explain? Hell, he didn’t even know the real truth other than wanting to stay out of his cell. A big price to pay in exchange for freedom.

Minerva spoke again before he could respond, “I once committed an act similar to you,” the surprise is evident on Zemo, “Vengeance against those who were responsible for the death of my loved ones. It’s why I was exiled,” a frown appears, her attention returning to the stars. “So I understand you, probably better than anyone here. Understand why you committed those acts to destroy the Avengers. I don’t fault you for what you did—if I did it would make me a hypocrite. You’re not the villain Ross and the Avengers made you out to be.”

“How so?” His voice is strained, “what have you lost?” He didn’t mean to come off as defensive, but the conversation was bringing up emotions Zemo didn’t want to face.

“As Goddess of War all I knew was bloodshed. How to prevent it and how to fight it. Battle strategy was my domain, and the High Council knew better than to question my judgment,” she releases an exhale, “but Mars, the God of War and my brother, was my ultimate rival. He hated how much our father doted on me and agreed with plans I coordinated. It made him feel inferior. He’d do anything to prove himself.” Her tone remains neutral despite the painful memory surfacing.

Zemo remained quiet, picturing the scene as Minerva relayed it. Though stoic the Baron could see the pain and sadness lurking behind her eyes. Managing it as best she could for the sake of her friends. Who knows how many years it’d been since she lost whoever it was close to her. But the hole would always remain.

“To put it short,” she started again, bidding a glance, “Our home was under attack and his rash decision to slow down the enemy led to the death of my family—my husband and children.” Sympathy arose in the Baron, understanding her anguish, “An intentional move on Mars’ part because he believed I wouldn’t be fit to remain on the High Council after stuffing such a loss, therefore he would take my place as Head Commander of our armies and my father’s second Command.”

“He wasn’t exiled?” The question left Zemo before he could stop it. Confused by how the God avoided persecution for his crime, Minvera was shunned. “Your family was targeted.”

Minerva’s smile was bitter, “because their deaths were a result of war, the High Council viewed it as collateral. They failed to see Mars’ responsibility, believing he didn’t intend to kill them. So, I took it upon myself to bring justice. Not only to Mars but also the High Council.” Her smile fell once more, “I made sure they would pay. And they did, but it was far from over after finishing the job. Those who survived didn’t hesitate to throw me out to the wolves once I was contained.”

Zemo nods his head, “where did you go afterward if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I was imprisoned on Xandar for some time,” well they certainly had some things in common, “Once I escaped I became what your people would call a bounty hunter. Where it led me to meeting those clowns I now call my family,” she pauses before adding, “and escaping prison for a second time. Only it was to save the Galaxy.”

The laugh that escapes Zemo surprises him, “I guess it all worked out then.” Once more they lock eyes, twinkling against the stars shining down above.

“I suppose it did.”

Three Years Later

Zemo raced out the door the moment he awoke to rumbling that shook the foundation of his home. After three years he’d recognize the sound in an instant, only this time it was without warning.

An action that rarely occurred.

Throwing on his coat and house slippers, the clock read 2:30 am, flooding the Baron with worry. ‘What is she doing here at this hour?”

Usually when Minerva drops in she gives Zemo a heads up. A day or two’s notice, but recently he couldn’t get a hold of her and passed it off as the Guardians on a job. With the unexpected visit, so late at night, Zemo instantly knew something was wrong.

Hurrying out to the front lawn right as her ship landed, Zemo jogged to where the stairs extended. When they did, the doors revealed his Goddess, still wearing her suit, standing before him. Zemo noted the exhaustion painting her demeanor. Dark circles beneath her eyes, which appeared dimmer than usual, and scars indicating recently healed wounds.

His arms are around her the moment she’s within distance, her own around his neck, “This is a surprise.”

“Sorry I didn’t call,” the exhaustion was evident in her voice. Barely above a whisper causing Zemo to tighten his hold.

“It’s alright, darling. I’m just glad to see you are okay,” his hand runs along her hair, “wanna tell me what happened?” He hears her sniff, increasing his dread, “Close call?”

“Too many,” her voice cracks and there’s a pause. “We almost lost Rocket. We saved him thankfully, but then we nearly lost Peter. And I almost—,” she stops short, not wanting to relive her near death experience. “This was…it was too much for all of us, Helmut.” A kiss is pressed to her head, offering comfort.

“Let’s get you inside, mein schatz.” Zemo leads Minerva into the home, sitting her in the living room while he goes to put a kettle on the stove. Filling two cups of cherry blossom tea, Minerva’s favorite, he joins her in the living room.

After taking her first sip of the brew, Minerva removes the headpiece from her hair and makes herself comfortable before giving Zemo a play-by-play of the past three days. He stays quiet, listening intently but visibly reacts with each awful detail Minvera relays to him. From the unexpected attack from Adam Warlock, to the disgusting abuse Rocket endured at the hands of the High Evolutionary, to Quill nearly imploading in space had it not been for Adam’s change of heart.

Zemo’s knuckles turned white when Minerva spoke of what happened to her. Anger consumed him and he wished he had been there to protect her. Seeing his distress Minerva placed her hand on his, gently squeezing, “I’m okay, Helmut. I’m here now and we all made it out. There were many close calls, but we’re all alive and that’s what matters.”

Taking her hand, Zemo brought it up to brush his lips against her fingers, softly kissing her knuckles. “I don’t know what I would've done if I lost you, Minnie. I—-,” he stops himself to exhale, squeezing his eyes shut, “I would’ve found a way to fly across the galaxy to avenge you.”

“I know you would,” she murmurs, removing her hand but positioning herself in his lap. Arms snake around his neck, pulling him so they were inches apart. “I’d expect nothing less. Also I’d be a hypocrite considering I would do the same for you.” A playful smirk formed, “I was already plotting when Ross let you get captured by those bastards last year. Had it ended any other way, Ross would cease to exist.”

Zemo snickered, “I see we haven’t really changed completely despite our friends believing the opposite. Neither of us hesitating to return to old ways if it comes down to such circumstances.”

She smirks, “No, I don’t suppose we haven’t.”

“What a pair we are,” leaning in, his lips meet hers in a soft caress. Warmth seeping through his veins. That effortless high he believed he’d never have again after the loss of his family.

But he found it with a Goddess in the stars. Where love swept across the galaxy.

When they pull away after a moment, Zemo keeps his forehead against hers. Gold meeting brown. “I’m not sure I can let you go now, liebling. At least not for a while.”

“You never have to anymore,” her words have him startled, the man pulling away slightly to get a better look at her.

“What are you saying?”

Minerva’s gaze turns soft, though there’s slight nervousness, “After everything we all realized something. We found the family we were searching for, but some of us needed to find ourselves. Peter’s here on Earth to find his grandfather. Mantis is off on her own adventure. Drax and Nebula are on Knowhere to help raise the children we saved from the High Evolutionary. Rocket and Groot are leading a new era of the Guardians. And me,” she stops, emitting a gaze full of love that takes Zemo’s breath away. “I’d like to be here. With you, Helmut. If you’ll have me.”

If his heart could explode from the happiness Zemo was feeling it would. Tears were threatening to prick his eyes, the Baron willing himself to remain composed. “Oh, Schatz,” he croaked, cupping the side of her jaw. “I should be the one asking you that. Of course I’ll have you. I love you more than every star in the galaxy.” With that he kisses her, putting all his love and passion it causes her own eyes to water.

“I love you too,” she kisses him again. They remain on the couch, falling asleep eventually curled up in each other’s embrace. Their last thoughts filled with joy as they awaited the new adventure on the horizon.

An adventure just between them. A reinstated Goddess and a fully pardoned Baron opening the next chapter of their lives. Together.

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[mischas]

thoughts as i rewatched mischa on the oc pod

these are mostly the thoughts i sent to my friend in real time lol i cannot help the stream of consciousness when it comes to this podcast episode apparently (here's my original thoughts pre-revelations)

funny how she says 17.5/18 at the top

seems that’s the age range she’s really latched onto, especially as she was 16 when the talks with McG really started and they filmed the pilot not even two months after she turned 17 (aka she's still aging herself up which is... interesting)

i'm reminded of peter gallagher on the podcast saying he was scared for mischa right from the beginning and how they all had a duty to protect her. and rachel saying mischa was "seasoned" because she'd been in movies and knew how to order a latte. and peter was like "she was still 16"

they keep referring to the hermosa party as manhattan beach (unless i’m the one messing up)

i forgot she mentioned josh’s name

“as with everything with like josh and them back then, it was like ‘maybe she should be drunker’” omg??

THE PAUSE BEFORE SAYING BENS NAME LMAO

oh she did notttt wanna complete that thought

“that whole exchange behind……… ben”

this reads so different now

i feel like rachel is so scared to talk in this ep

mischa with the tight lipped smile when rachel says it’s fun to see ben squirm on the ferris wheel

calling herself a baby/fetus in the ferris wheel scene... interesting

i cannot believe the gall of these women to make her watch this scene

the way mindy immediately says the bullshit patrick rush line of they had to cast people way older than her to make it believable on camera bc boys mature later? wtf. i bet she thought that was bullshit too

i love her so much for criticizing the 201 writing

the mount st mary’s thing... i wanna know what she means!!!

i can see mischa dissociating as melinda talks about the model home scene “there was so much that was real”

cannot believe mindy referenced this scene to her face

i’m so in shock how quickly mischa's tears came at the crash scene. quicker than rachel's

her not wanting to see him cry she’s so real

i think she hates seeing his face full stop

thank fucking god mindy tells her and the audience that the ratings went down bc she wasn’t there

i love that that’s on the record

that guy who called in about the 207 bagel scene should be our friend

i think mischa was getting overwhelmed by the time the final calls were coming in

i think a lot of memories good and bad were flooding in

#oc bitches #mischa barton #really fascinating in light of revelations #mb tea

[shiny-jr]

Hello! I’m the one who mentioned following you since Buttons, and I’m glad to see some people giving you compliments on such an amazing story!!

I just wanted to say, thank God someone else hates the Shogun!!! It pissed me off so much when they tried to play it off as, “No, Ei and the Shogun are separate, and the Shogun was really the one to blame all along.” As if Ei wasn’t the one who set things in motion and then neglected all of Inazuma?! I felt like I was being gaslit SO hard over this, especially since she’s so popular. As a massive fan of Kazuha, it really degrades all the trauma he went through for us to just casually forgive Ei.

I really feel like she should have faced much more dire consequences. For the Archon of a land to actively hurt citizens by stripping away their Visions (which was shown to have devastating physical and psychological effects), allow war to flourish, and say she doesn’t care about her people as long as her selfish ideals are fulfilled? That’s abuse on so many levels, especially because she knows the amount of devotion people have towards her. After Venti and Zhongli went out of their way to show how they care for their people, it left such a bad taste in my mouth.

Sorry for the rant, but thanks for making me feel sane again! I’m surrounded by Ei simps in my friend group, lol

PERIOD. Read this during a break but I only just now am getting a change to respond.

Okay, first off, thank you for reading my works! Younger me would be screaming if they found out that people still know me for that silly button man story I wrote two years ago. Very happy, thank you!

Secondly, go off, my liege. The booba cannot excuse the crimes. Okay, let's put it like this, even if it was all the fault of the Shogun and not Ei, Ei made the Shogun knowing fully well that it would be in control of everything from how situations are handled, to how people are ruled, to what laws are made. She instilled the Shogun, so it is technically still Ei's fault if you want to try placing all the blame on the Shogun. You're right, Ei literally neglected her nation and placed a puppet in charge, just to meditate and stay preserved in her sword. All because she didn't want things to change, she wanted eternity. But, let's be honest, Kazuha is way better. Not only does he actually have a good story and is a good character, but he's not perfect. I believe in one of his voice lines, he says he cannot forgive Ei but he tries to no longer hold resentment towards her. Short king.

Again, I agree, I think she should've faced consequences too! But let's be honest, who's going to punish a god? I hate when people have the gall to compare her to Venti and Zhongli, and say "well they were bad gods too!" No, let's talk about it. I will say that all three of them are flawed in some way, shape, or form, but Raiden is much worse than the previous two. We all know what Raiden did, so let's talk Venti first.

Venti is carefree and shirks from his duties sometimes, but when he's truly desperately needed, he pulls through. His belief is that his nation should have freedom, that means he has no command over them. Freedom is his main theme. It fits with how he tends to avoid responsibilities. But like I just said, when he is really really needed, he shows. Like in the manga, he appears to help free Mondstadt from the tyrannical rule of the nobles. Then in the main quest, he helps calm Dvalin when the dragon is wrecking havoc. Venti may shirk his duties, but he remains there for his nation should they need him.

Zhongli is a peculiar case. I found his take on the situation with Liyue very interesting. He had ruled for so long that he figured he was done, there was nothing left for him to offer to his nation. So that's why he fakes his death, and remains among the people as a human. Then when Childe resurrects Osial, Zhongli sees this as an opportunity to test the strength of the nation he had fostered. More importantly, didn't Zhongli state afterwards, that if he saw Liyue was not strong enough to defend itself from the attack, he would've come back to its defense? Like they said in the dialogue, him leaving Liyue was much like a parent leaving their child once they were old enough to fend for themselves. And don't forget, he's much older, and part of the reason he may have done what he did was because when he truly dies, he'll pass on in peace knowing his nation will thrive without him.

#shiny rants #shiny speaks #shiny is a hater

[misslavenderlady]

A Little Bit Country, A Little Bit Rock ‘N Roll - Chapter 9

Summary: It's the night of Max's big party, and David isn't looking forward to being dragged along. Michael comes to the rescue, not just to bring the fun....but to also bring a little romance~

Music from chapter HERE and HERE

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Lucy Emerson was a wise woman. She was as sharp as a tack and didn’t stand for nonsense whenever someone was trying to treat her with disrespect. Michael had always felt lucky to call her his mother. She had been an amazing role model for him and Sam, especially when she finally put her foot down and left her emotionally distant husband. There was just no stopping her when she had her mind set on something. 

So when Michael decided to tell her about what was going on with David, he knew she would believe him. She never doubted her boys for a second. Hell itself had nothing on the fires of her wrath when he explained what he saw and heard with the boys.

“THAT NO GOOD, TWO-FACED SNAKE!” Lucy sneered. Michael watched her silently, letting her take in everything he had said after they finished breakfast. It was a good thing Sam was helping Grandpa with work because he’d be terrified seeing their normally sweet mother go on such a verbal rampage. 

“I cannot believe I trusted that man for even a second! Who would have the gall to act like a gentleman and try to woo me when he’s hurtin’ that sweet little boy!”

Michael frowned to himself as he thought about all the pain David must have gone through. There was a lingering sense of guilt deep in his gut. A feeling that told him he should have seen the signs earlier. He was just so caught up in enjoying his time with his buddies that he didn’t notice the pain that David was going through. It made him feel like a pretty rotten friend.

“Believe me, mama, I don’t like it any more than you do,” Michael said with a sigh. “I know you really liked the guy and he gave you a job, but David is my best friend. He’s the best thing that’s happened to me since we moved here. I just….I wanna make sure he’s okay…”

“Oh sweetheart, I know,” Lucy said, her voice softening from seeing her son in such a worried state. She sat back down at the table, placing her hand over Michael’s in an act of comfort. “I’m not gonna let him go on and suffer like that. I’m ending things with Max and I’ll find some new work”

That only made Michael worry more. He didn’t want to put pressure on his mother to look for work on her own. He was the oldest boy, and he felt a responsibility towards his family. Not to mention it couldn’t really help David in such a situation.

“What if Max gets upset from you leaving and he takes that anger out on David?”

Lucy pondered over that little issue for a moment. It was definitely scary to think about what that man was potentially capable of if she were to dump him so suddenly. After all, the reason she was doing such a thing in the first place was how he was mistreating his son, and she had no proof other than Michael’s own word. 

It was all such a delicate matter. David wasn’t legally bound to his father since he wasn’t under eighteen, but the threat of being hurt worse would keep him from going anywhere. Not to mention he didn’t exactly have the money to go wherever he wanted. The only place he could escape Max was the hideout and the Emerson house. As nice as it was, a boy needed a home, not a cave. 

Michael wanted nothing more than to give David a proper home. It was the least he could do for the guy he cared so much about.

“Golly, what a pickle we’re in,” Lucy said with a sigh. “And right when Max was gonna introduce me to his friends at the party”

Michael perked up, blue eyes widening at what his mother said. 

“What party?”

“Oh! Yesterday at work Max mentioned that he was planning a party at the Santa Carla Country Club. A lot of socialites gettin’ together. He even said I could bring whoever I wanted to we could all get to know one another”

The gears in Michael's head started turning. Anyone she wanted. 

"Mama, I may have an idea. Somethin' that'll keep Max away from us and get David closer so he'll be safe. Do ya trust me?" 

Even with the wild look in her son's eyes, Lucy was still intrigued by the idea going around in his head. Curious, she raised an eyebrow and smirked. 

"You bet I do, sweetheart" 

A plan was brewing for the Emersons. Nobody messed with the people they cared about and got away with it. They were going to make that very clear to Max. 

Only the crème de la crème of society could gain access to a place like the Santa Carla Country Club. Although the city was dubbed “Murder Capital of the World”, that title didn’t apply to the swanky, upper-class community closed off from the rest of the area. Beautiful, towering beach houses surrounded by greenery and placed up high in the mountains to give the residents only the best views of the ocean. 

Max had made quite a name for himself in this community, and it was exactly why he was so beloved at the country club. Though he could only visit at night, his acquaintances praised him for being such a successful businessman whenever they got together for dinner and drinks. It was no surprise that they all were more than happy to let him host a party at the club.  

It had taken a couple of weeks to plan everything out, but the end result was truly stunning. The dining hall was decorated with the finest silk tablecloths and vases with elegant roses. Guests were chatting away under the light of the chandeliers above. Classical music filled the space, adding more to the atmosphere. 

Everyone positively adored the party. Well, almost everyone.

While Max was having the time of his life schmoozing with friends over hors d'oeuvres, his four boys were all sulking off to the side of the room. Blending into the background without anyone else noticing.

"Ugh…I can't believe we have to hang out in the shadows while Max kisses asses all night long," Marko groaned out. 

The boys were no strangers to being tossed aside whenever their Sire had company. It was already a nuisance being banned from his video store during work hours. To be completely ignored while he was around his colleagues and friends was an even greater insult. Even if they were used to such treatment, it still hurt their feelings. 

It was one of the reasons why David always did his best to look after the boys. Making sure they were all happy and taken care of was the most important thing to him as the leader of their gang. Unlike Max, he wouldn’t even think about shoving his boys into the corner of a lively party. 

"I know. This fuckin' sucks, but Max will raise hell if we don't keep this up. I can't let that happen to you guys," David explained, running a hand through his hair.

He had made a full recovery from the night Max attacked him. Nothing a little bed rest and a few gallons of blood couldn't fix. Still, he had been on his guard. He did as his Sire asked, running errands and gathering supplies for this big party. 

David was not looking forward to this at all. Max was only doing this to show off what an "amazing" man he was in front of Lucy. He never could pass up a chance to flaunt his wealth. Dwayne, Paul, and Marko wouldn't even be allowed to speak to anyone. They were only to stand in the background and hold their tongues. After all, Max was a firm believer in the saying  “children are to be seen, never heard”.

"Look, at least we'll get to see Michael. Maybe the five of us can hang out together. It'll make it a hell of a lot less boring," 

David found it more and more difficult to hide the feelings he had developed for their human friend. Every moment he spent with Michael put a smile on his face. With all the fun and thrills they had together, he found himself counting the seconds until they could all be together again. The boys had certainly noticed this, but they no longer teased him for it. 

They wanted him to be happy, but they were also concerned that love was starting to cloud their leader’s better judgment.

“Let’s just hope Max likes him too. It would suck if he got treated like garbage like the rest of us,”  Dwayne murmured. 

The boys fell silent when a familiar-looking redhead made her way into the dining hall. Lucy was dolled up and in her nicest-looking blue dress, definitely ready for such a fancy event. She caught Max’s eye right away, and he excused himself from the group he was talking to in order to give her a proper greeting.

“Lucy! Darling! You look absolutely stunning, as always,” Max complimented her, going in for a kiss. Little did he know that when Lucy turned to offer her cheek instead of her lips, it was from a newfound disgust for the man, not as a way to keep any PDA to a minimum.

“Oh I am so absolutely tickled pink to be here, Max,” she said in her soft drawl. “And I want to thank you for letting me invite my guests along!”

Max was so blind-sighted by his infatuation for Lucy that he didn’t even notice the wicked glint in her eye. She wasn’t going to let him get away with mistreating David and have this night go however he wanted. So when a loud bang came from the doors swinging open and slamming against the walls, Max got quite a startle. 

“WELL HOOOOOWDY!” a booming voice called out. Everyone in the hall turned toward the direction of the sound, including the Lost Boys. 

It was Michael, and while he had a suit on for the occasion, he was still wearing his trusty cowboy boots and hat. David hadn’t a clue what was going on, but he had a feeling things were about to get interesting. 

Michael turned around and ushered in a group of guests, a wild smile stuck on his face as he did so.

“Come on in, y’all! Let’s raise a lil’ hell tonight!” 

Max’s guests looked on in pure shock as dozens of newcomers piled into the room. None of them were dressed properly for the occasion, as it was nothing but overalls, jean shorts, t-shirts, and cowboy boots. They all chattered away as they spread throughout the dining hall, making themselves more than comfortable in the extravagant party. 

Some of them had trays and containers in hand, which they piled onto one of the nearby tables. The overpowering aroma of homemade cooking wafted through the room, which the Lost Boys immediately recognized after several nights of having dinner with the Emersons. Others carried in crates of beer and liquor to slip between the champagne trays. Those who hadn’t brought anything along quickly went for the guests, throwing themselves into conversations and either going in for a hearty handshake or draping their arms over their shoulders for a bear hug. 

It was pure and utter chaos, and while Max looked on in horror, Lucy kept her smile plastered on her face. 

“Lucy, what on Earth is going on? Who are these people??” he sputtered. 

“Why Max! I would have thought you’d be eager to meet my friends!” she said. “These here are my friends and family. They came a long way just to be here tonight! Some are from here in California, some are from back in Texas, and some are just from all over the place!”

The Lost Boys were still hiding in the shadows as they watched the chaos unfurl. If there was one thing they truly loved, it was when things got truly wild. The four of them no longer felt like sulking, but rather had a shared jolt of excitement. 

Michael gestured for a few of Lucy’s guests to follow him onto the stage where the classical music had been playing. They all had instruments ranging from guitars to banjos to fiddles and even a large set of drums. He had a spring in his step as he told them where to set up. It was about time they got some real music playing tonight.

Max’s frustration was growing stronger by the minute. He couldn’t believe how fast things were getting out of hand. 

“I cannot let you bring these people into this club! They’re causing a ruckus!” Max ordered. He was slowly but surely losing his cool, yet Lucy wasn’t even bothered. As far as she was concerned, this was a way to get Max to show his true colors.

“Well, Max, you specifically said I could bring whoever I wanted. These people are my kin, and I ain’t gonna be here without them. So why don’t you just enjoy yourself, sweetie? You’re wound tighter than a Grandfather clock~”

She smugly caressed the side of his face before stepping away. There was no way she’d spend another second next to that man. There were plenty of real loved ones she wanted to spend time with. 

While the band was finishing getting set up, Michael watched Max carefully from the stage. The older man was flustered beyond words, and he had to stop him from putting an end to the party before he could even let it begin. 

The eldest Emerson boy looked across the room to where his brother and the Frogs had just wandered in. They were all dressed down, and buzzing with energy. When he and Sam locked eyes, he gave a nod to signal his baby brother to go to work. Already eager to get started, Sam motioned for Edgar and Alan to follow up right to the spot where Max was. The three boys all crowded around the tall gentleman, turning up the hyperactive charm to keep him distracted.

“Hey, Max! We wanna talk to you for a bit! Let’s hang out!” Sam chirped, dragging the man away from the area. Edgar and Alan provided the extra push needed to get Max going. All in all, the man was flabbergasted, completely blind-sighted by how fast things were getting out of control. 

But while their Sire was getting pushed out of the party, the Lost Boys had an opportunity to make their way in. Michael took hold of a microphone on stage and spoke into it with his loud, clear drawl.

“Well howdy, everyone! My name’s Michael, and I wanna thank y’all for comin’ out tonight for a real good time. Let’s all get a little loose and dance the night away with some real good hits from back home!”

With a quick signal to the band, Michael gave them the go-ahead to kick off a song. The opening notes of Mountain of Love by Charley Pride kicked off, and the guests Lucy had brought in cheered in delight as they crowded together on the dance floor for a line dance. The members of the country club were still overwhelmed by this strange turn of events, but if there was one thing Michael’s family knew how to do, it was how to get others feeling laid back with a little fun.

David watched in awe as the fancy-looking party-goers were given plenty of drinks and some plates of food with big smiles from the more casual guests. Others were dragged onto the dance floor in order to get a proper lesson in how to dance to country music. 

An eager smile stretched across the blond’s face. The old man truly deserved this, and he was going to enjoy every moment. Paul, Marko, and Dwayne followed him in emerging from the shadows and into the party. They weren’t going to be pushed aside any longer.

“Howdy, boys!” Michael greeted the four of them after rushing off the stage. He had a burlap bag on his arm that they only noticed when he got closer to them. “I gotcha a little somethin’ for the party!”

They all watched closely as Michael fished out the contents of his bag. In his hand, he proudly held four, black cowboy hats, all of them brand new and sleek-looking. 

“I thought it might help y’all fit in tonight. Besides, black really suits ya!”

David never thought he’d actually be eager to put on such an accessory, but with the way Michael was practically bouncing with excitement, he couldn’t fight the joy of trying it on. He and the others all put the hats on, adjusting them over their mullets to look their best. Given how wide Michael was smiling, the hats must have suited them well. 

“Thank you, Michael. Really feels like we’re one of the family now,” David smiled, tracing his fingers over the brim of the hat. 

“Aww shucks, you guys were always one of us!”

The party was on. All of the boys rushed to different parts of the room, eager to enjoy themselves. Paul went to find Star and Laddie in order to get them into some dancing, Marko went straight to grab some of the massive supply of food the new guests brought with them, and Dwayne was already getting a drink to help him loosen up. 

That left Michael and David. A familiar sensation of affection overwhelmed the blond vampire as Michael smiled his way. Never in the 100 years he’d been alive did he ever expect to feel so warm and fuzzy around anyone. He shouldn’t want to be with someone this bad. It could lead to him doing something stupid or careless. 

Yet when Michael held out his hand to silently ask to go do some dancing, David took it without hesitation.

“Ya ever been line-dancing before, David?”

“Can’t say that I have. I’m not much of a dancer,” David admitted. 

That didn’t seem like an issue to Michael. He simply gave a wink before gesturing for his friend to follow his lead. 

Michael was an amazing dancer. His kicks were high, his sense of rhythm was perfect, and his hips swayed flawlessly. The notes of the song fueled every move, and David was happy to go along with it. Song after song after song was played by the band on stage, yet Michael kept on going. He was always bursting with energy, and it was so exciting for David to have the ability to keep up. 

It made him grateful towards Michael being able to have such a fun time. The party was just the distraction he needed. Max deserved having his stuffy get-together crashed. Lucy was too good for him. In fact, the entire Emerson family and their friends were too good for him. 

It made David that much happier to have them all in his life.

The hours flew by thanks to the wild energy of the party-goers. Turns out that the guests the Emersons brought along were just what was needed. Some of Max’s friends actually had quite a lot of fun once they were loosened up. To see the snooty, uptight socialites dance like they were at a honky tonk was pure entertainment. 

But even good things had to come to an end. The human crowd was growing lethargic from the food, alcohol, and hours of dancing. A good majority of them had headed out for the night, stumbling and slurring country songs as they went. 

It was almost disappointing when the lead singer of the band called for a last dance. David slipped off his hat in order to wipe the sweat from his brow. He had been going all night, and he wanted to save his energy to properly enjoy the song. 

“Let’s close out the night with Ronnie Milsap’s My Heart,” the lead singer of the band called out to the remaining crowd. “So grab someone special, and hold em’ real close~”

David’s eyebrows raised in surprise as Michael turned right his way. His blue eyes were wider than ever, as if he were hoping for David to make the first move. 

The vampire was more than happy to do so. He held out a gloved hand, soft smile on his face as he did so. This was really happening. 

I'll take a long vacation

I need a change of scenery

I'll see the sights, go out at night

There'll be no time for your memory

Michael squeezed his hand while David used his other one to place it carefully over the brunet’s hip. In turn, Michael put his free hand over David’s shoulder, silently pulling him in a little closer than he anticipated. 

I'll get a new apartment

Make friends that don't know who you are

'Cause when I'm through, I'm really through

If I can just convince my heart

“You’re not too shy to dance with someone like me?” David asked in a teasing tone. Whether he meant dancing with someone who looked like a punk or just dancing with a boy, he wasn’t entirely sure. Either way, he held his breath as he awaited Michael’s answer.

“Since when have I ever been shy about anything?” the human said with a giggle. He swayed to the beat of the song, not hesitating in jumping right in with their dance.

Oh, but my heart, says I'm not so smart

My heart tears my plans apart

My heart won't admit we're through

'Cause my heart, oh, my heart still belongs to you

The two of them moved quite well together. It was by no means perfect, as David found himself stumbling a little bit as they swayed. Michael didn’t mind it one bit. As far as he was concerned, David was perfect as he was. 

He considered the blond to be perfect in many different ways. It made his cheeks heat up with a warm blush as he thought of how much he truly liked David. Perhaps even more than just like.

I'll call some old phone numbers

And I'll throw a party for a start

I've made a vow, it's all over now

If I can just convince my heart

The words of the song were swimming around in David’s head. He really did like Michael. As much as he wanted to deny it and fight off the feelings that were growing stronger by the day, he just couldn’t. For once, he felt weak. Powerless. Like he could be swept off his feet just from the look in Michael’s eyes. 

It was just something he couldn’t ignore any longer. His heart was aching in his chest. Almost as if it were beating again.

Oh, but my heart, says I'm not so smart

My heart tears my plans apart

My heart won't admit we're through

‘Cause my heart, oh, my heart still belongs to you

The two of them didn’t say a word for the longest time. Both were dying to say something, but nothing came out. And yet, they seemed to have a mutual understanding of what they wanted. Their eyes gave it away so clearly. So did their lips when David and Michael finally met in the middle. 

The last notes of the song faded into the background as they savored their first kiss. 

‘Cause my heart, oh, my heart still belongs to you

Tag List: @silvermaplealder @cryptic-michael @legal-lost-boy @britany1997 @riz-coolgirl @crustyraccoon @ghoulgeousimmaculate @kurt-nightcrawler @auntvamp @sunshine-wylan @thelostsouls1987 @pixielostboy @thornthehellhound @solobagginses

#the lost boys #tlb #my fic #ao3 fic #michael emerson #david the lost boys #michael x david #au fic #spotify #Spotify

[fireemblems24]

Golden Wildfire Ch 10

Spoilers for GW up to Ch 10 below.

STORY

Now Claude's taking Ls in the Kingdom too.

I love how much they always try to drum up sympathy for Randolph when the man's only character trait is "I want to murder people to gain personal status." And then he also has the gall to act like he's better than the people defending themselves when he goes to kill them.

I never really put that much thought into him before, but yeah he's kinda just a piece of shit, isn't he? Low key one of the worst human beings in the game.

They should've made it Fredinand or like Linhardt's dad or someone likeable.

Funny seeing Claude play Edelgard like a fiddle though. His army is fine, and hers is crushed lamo.

Haha, Fleche is back to her vengeance act. It's gonna be funny if a tiny girl child is a final boss.

The same conversation with Jeralt and Bylethas I saw elsewhere, I think. Yeah, here comes the sword again.

I love how they make Rhea out to be such a big deal, but literally no one gives a shit that they declared war on her. Like, pick one, game. You either have Claude be an unpopular ruler or Rhea actually be a problem.

Raphael called it right. Commoners don't give a shit. So Edelgard getting everyone killed over noble squabbles.

Hilda kinda seems like the Kingdom stan here. She's always the one upset about it.

Claude is such an idiot. I cannot take him seriously. Claiming he wants to spare lives moments after sacrificing Randolph and wanting to wipe a church no one gives a shit about off the map. Am I supposed to take this seriously?

Haha, Arval said he can think for both of them when I had Shez say she's more brawn than brain lamo. And Shez believes it too, omg. Shez is great. I need a comedy show with them.

Oh, nice! Looks like another single-battle map. BC, honestly, I got Spiritfarer for Christmas and I'm DYING to play it, but need to finish this first.

BASE/SIDE BATTLES

Lamo, Arval just said trying to unify different people under one king is dumb, won't work, and looks forward to the day humanity moves beyond it.

LORENZ/IGNATZ/RAPHAEL PARALOGUE

So is this the paralogue that's going to rewrite it so Lorenz's dad did nothing wrong? Given the description, I'm betting it's that.

Ignatz is being awkward around Lorenz now that he's been promoted.

Gloucester evades all of Lorenz's questions about these bandits.

And now Lorenz is demanding Raphael do what Ignatz did and is upset he's so casual lamo.

So are they making it so his dad wasn't the one who ordered the hit that killed Raphael's parents? Lol. This game really likes whitewashing some of these guys, but Glouster's probably the worst offender.

Let me take a wild guess. TWSITD.

It's really a shame that Raphael is such a one-note character. It would've been interesting if he had more in-depth conversations with the rest of the cast who were unable to move beyond trauma.

IGNATZ & LEONIE B SUPPORT

Their one and only support.

They're hunting and the deer only has one arrow. So they try to figure out who successfully shot the deer.

They both hit the same place. Mystery solved.

LORENZ & CONSTANCE C SUPPORT

This one should be better.

Constance is challenging a cat to a staring contest. Yes, this one is already better.

Lamo, he says he would've considered her as a wife if she restored her house. But withdraws because she's a weirdo. (I mean, no loss?)

Constance gets back at him by saying she'd never consider him lol.

Now they're arguing over who's house is more noble.

Much more entertaining.

SHEZ & RAPAEL B SUPPORT

It's about food.

It's nice to see Raphael actually have passion about something instead of just repeating "meat!" over and over.

SHEZ & IGNATZ B SUPPORT

You know, going through supports has made me realize that Golden Deer probably has my overall least favorite cast.

Ignatz has an older brother. He likes his brother at least.

Ignatz is finally talking about how he doesn't love being a knight. He really didn't have much of anything going on removing that conflict.

It's nice to hear Ignatz have his own convictions to become a knight. He's getting more sides to him, which is good.

SHEZ & HOLST B SUPPORT

Holst sneaks with Shez into enemy territory. He's doing it because scouts are going missing. Shez is impressed someone of his status is doing that.

LYSITHEA & RAPHAEL B SUPPORT

Lysithea studied too long and is out after dark. Gets scared by noises. She runs into Raphael and they talk about strengths and weaknesses.

The weird noises she heard wasn't Raphael.

MARIANNE & HILDA PARALOGUE

Marianne needs help from Shez organizing because she sucks at it.

Wow, Hilda not only volunteered to help Marianne clean up the mess, but also to do the scouting mission they were supposed to go on all by herself. It's love.

Hilda doesn't show up for awhile, so they get worried and go to check on her. Given that it dumps me to prepare for the battle next, I'm thinking that was a good call.

Not my favorite paralogue. I had to fight Ingrid :(

They talk about Marianne's typical issues.

It has very "safe" shipping dialogue throughout.

MAIN BATTLE

I don't want to invade the Kingdom. Especially since it makes no sense for Claude to do so.

Hahahahaha, lamo, you deserve it Claude. Fleche raised an army to fight him. Seeing this tiny girl as the final boss is going to be hysterical.

Oh, Arval and Shez stuff. I almost forgot Arval existed. They've got bad feelings. I'm guessing it's because Byleth is fused with Sothis.

Ok guys, I restarted this chapter over and over trying to recruit Byleth, but Claude just stands there in one seized area and won't move until Byleth reaches him - even when no one else is around.

I really just want to be done with this playthrough to be honest (there are so many other games I want to play right now), so I'm not going to bother with recruiting Byleth. I'll try in SB, but the only one I'm going to put any real effort in is AG.

Seeing Fleche as a final boss is funny.

I'm guessing we don't fight Jeralt if you recruit successfully. Got a cool cut scene for not bothering though!

So Byleth doesn't join you because you kill Jeralt, I'm assuming. Though, Byleth doesn't seem to have any issue joining Edelgard when she plays a role in that lamo.

Also, gotta say, I love how there's a chapter you can't use the lords. And for Edelgard and Claude it's because they randomly just don't fight that chapter. For Dimitri, it's epic story reasons lol.

Aw, shit, did Byleth just kill Judith?? That sucks. Oh well. Not restarting. This 3 route thing is too much. I just want to play this again, but one route only.

You know, after Claude's dumbfuckery throughout this route, he kinda deserves this lamo.

So who is it in SB and AG that dies?

Byleth so callous about Jeralt's death. Far cry from the crying in Houses, a bit sad actually.

It's kinda funny that Judith died because Fleche went on another rampage. I'm going to miss seeing her around though.

Is whoever dies in AG bad enough that I should push through and recruit Byleth? I may look that up to give me the proper motivation, but that could backfire if it's someone I don't care enough, but I'm having a hard time thinking of a single character I don't care enough about. Even like Sylvain's dad would make me too sad for Sylvain and I couldn't do it.

Aww, Arval is upset for Shez.

So is Sothis and Byleth merging merging or something?

xxxx

#golden wildfire #fire emblem #fire emblem three hopes #three hopes #three hopes spoilers #golden wildfire spoilers

[backjustforberena]

Idk why but something about Corlys men and Rhaenys going to seal off the gullet tickles me. Rhaenys was so quick to be like “I’ll protect our men, on my joint mission with the hubby” 😭😭😂😂

In all honesty she should’ve probably gone to speak to the Baratheons as that is her family. It might have gone over better.

I love that the Velaryons go into that meeting and immediately take it over. There is no loss of power for them in that scene and once they're declared for Rhaenyra, they take charge. They hold the audience and the resources. It's basically Corlys's plan. And I love that Rhaenys is acting for herself and asks no permission. She's going. Does she ask the Queen for permission? No. Does she ask her husband for permission? Nope. In fact, from the look she gives him prior to looking over to Rhaenyra, I think it's not a prior discussion that they've had. It feels a lot more off-the-cuff, given that the plan is a result of Corlys's observations of the Painted Table, as much as his own knowledge of his Fleet's movements.

As for probably going to see the Baratheons? I actually disagree. I think she's far more suited to the task she gave herself. And I'll tell you why I think this:

There's nothing to indicate that she has any sort of relationship with Borros. She had a relationship with his dad but there's no reason to believe she had any sort of closeness to Borros or could demand anything of him that Luke couldn't. Borros doesn't reject Luke because he's a bastard, so I'm not sure how much actually sharing blood would sway him.

It's far less impressive for Rhaenyra to send Borros a "distant" relation of his to ask for his support, over the honour of a Prince of the Realm who is in line for the Iron Throne. It's also pretty obvious manipulation to send Rhaenys.

Rhaenys could not have done anything that Lucerys could not have done. She cannot make marriage pacts, she cannot do anything without the permission of the Queen. All she can do, as Lucerys does, is deliver the message, get an answer, and leave.

Meleys is far more useful deployed into the Gullet. She's a larger dragon, she can hold her own if (and it's a big if because there's only a small chance of this at this point) there are any hostiles in the area and she's the fastest dragon, which means she can gather intel and come back quickly. There are no other clear options to undertake this mission. Rhaenys also knows the Fleet well and as Lady Velaryon, can, to some extent, command respect and authority with the soldiers and sailors who make it up. Plus, she knows the waters and air.

Would Luke have lived? Sure, because he wouldn't have been there. But would Rhaenys have been any more successful in persuading the Baratheons to join? No. I don't think so. The reasons Borros accepted the Greens were political and prideful. Rhaenys could not offer a marriage pact and her presence might have been more galling to a man such as Borros. Not only would Rhaenyra have been assuming and demanding his allegiance, but she would have employed an "old woman", with no high standing in terms of the Iron Throne, simply because they had relations in common.

I think the right choice was made, even if it was a choice. After all, Rhaenys had her mission before Jacaerys even suggested sending dragons as envoys, and even before Lucerys was chosen to treat with Borros. What happened to Lucerys was not on Rhaenys.

#house of the dragon #rhaenys targaryen #lucerys velaryon

[swallowedbyfandom]

She saids yes because she does not have much choice already compromised as she is. She saids yes because she is 28 and has already wasted almost half her life loving him. She saids yes because she wants children. She saids yes because does it not make for a pretty story? She saids yes because what other option is there? She loves him yes, but that is not why she agrees to marry him. That is actually the least important factor. She resents him try as she does not to, she will never really trust him with her whole heart. She thinks it is already too late for them she is no longer the young girl who believes in happily ever after. She will be content she is sure, but she is settling and it leaves her feeling cheated. When she decided to retire Lady Whistledown and marry she always imagined she would marry the gentlemen who chose her who she in turn had chosen, instead she will marry Colin. She feels robbed there is no dream proposal no heartfelt words just the hasty marriage demand honor compels of him. A decade of writing about the consequences of lust and still she fell prey to it like any other stupid girl. It galls her that he believes he is doing her a favor taking responsibility of her as if she needs him. She has spend the past decade building an empire building a fortune and now it matters not. All her earned independence and she is still at the whims of a spoiled man and the rules of their society she resents that most of all. He has spent years blind to her value hurting her with his sheer disregard and now he demands her hand in marriage over one ill advised encounter in a carriage, how is that fair? Her stupid heart leaps with hope and is that not the cruelest part of it all? She is in love with him and still she feels cursed. Colin will make a wonderful husband she knows that but she wanted a marriage of true love or a marriage of mutual respect and he is depriving her of both. He may come to love her someday but she can't imagine she will ever believe or trust it. His family is so happy for them that it just makes her feel worse their engagement is a farce. She is getting everything she ever wanted for all the wrong reasons. He is over compensating now all sweet words and possessive lust filled encounters to make up for her hesitation but she doesn't trust him with her heart. She cannot help but doubt his sincerity and it shows she sees it in his eyes she is hurting him but 12 years of learned behavior does not change overnight. There are consequences for his inaction just as there are consequences for actions he has taken she can tell when that bitter realization hits him because it unhinges him in a manner she had not thought possible. She loves him, she is in love with him but not in that all consuming manner he wants she is not capable of it anymore.

#bridgerton #polin #penelope featherington #anthony bridgerton #colin bridgerton

[blacksheep28]

Sabine's Decorations

Lovely evil Sabine, Dark Rider of the horse Khaan, let loose pigs on the Equine Festival.

The Sunfield pigs are in fact lovely creatures, and not great beasts, which means they are in fact terrified of being lost, and are creating a racket, instead of being methodical beasts of destruction set on eating their way through everything.

I round them up, and Sabine has the gall to ask if I would meet with her.

I am not without sin, I am too curious for my own good. I have to admit I am intrigued by how confidently she comes up to me to ask for a talk right after the little mess she caused. No sign of guilt on her at all!

She tells me that she's angry because she's been banned from competing in any of the Equine Festival events. She honestly seems to have no clue why she would be banned from competing, claiming she's the best. As if she hasn't just proven that she can't resist causing possible harm to others at the festival. As if she actually thinks people believe she wouldn't sabotage someone if she saw them as a threat.

She tells me her "great scheme" to get them to change their mind: put up some decorations so people see her participating and take it as enough of a change of mind to allow her in.

This seems harmless enough, so I'm willing to go along with it. I am definitely curious what Sabine thinks would be suitable decorations, considering how very clear she's made her disdain for the very festival she's so desperate to compete in clear.

Of course it's not that simple. Sabine got fireworks. Drakonium fueled fireworks.

Now I love fireworks as much as the next person. I would love to set them off.

But drakonium is notoriously unstable and highly reactive. Sabine isn't exactly an expert on fireworks either. She could very easily kill someone, or burn down the entire festival with theseSabine of course doesn't see a problem with this, claiming that it's just a matter of training to keep horses under control.

Everyone knows that horses are spook beasts, they spook at their own shadows. Horses brought to the Equine Festival are a lot better trained than most, but that doesn't mean that having a stray firework go off in the middle of the festival would result in calm. I wouldn't trust people to be calm if an explosion went off beside them, let alone a horse!

And she honestly seems to believe the fact that Khaan only responds to her commands is a result of her training, and not because the horse has been blinded and deafened to the world outside of her existence. I don't know who's more blind, horse or rider, for Sabine to believe such a thing.

Either way I'm off with the fireworks. I'm not letting her get horses possibly killed because she's being petty about people acknowledging her as a danger to the festival.

Sabine of course has a whole speech up her sleeve, about how I'm "dancing on the edge of the dark" and "keeping what I do secret from my friends". How I'm being a hypocrite.

She doesn't seem to recognize that part of being good is giving others, even ones you suspect of being bad, a chance. I mean, admittedly this had more to do with my curiosity than honestly trusting Sabine to not be stupid about the decorations, but it certainly wasn't "dancing with the dark" or "keeping shameful secrets".

Does she think that I cannot enjoy a race beside her and also dislike the danger she brings? Does she think she is the only one allowed complexities?

We are caught in a stalemate where neither side can gain over the other, and it is better to have peace between our sides than to continually push until we find something more effective. I don't want to be the one to cause the card castle to fall because I pushed too much.

And perhaps if Sabine has moments of fun where she isn't being an active threat to everything around her, Sabine will be less willing to cause damage.

A pipe dream, I know, but one can hope.

I would love to see Khaan when he has clear eyes one day.

#sso #star stable online #spring equine festival #equine festival #star stable #sabine #khaan #fireworks #decorations quest #fanfic #drabble #story #dark horses are corrupted star breeds that have been blinded to force a bond