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sprout-fics · 1 month

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Silver Fox

(Nikolai x F! Reader)

Call of Duty Masterlist

Rating: Explicit (MDNI) Wordcount: 5k Tags: Character study, Age gap, Light Dom/Sub, Fluff, Slowburn, Smut, Dominant Nikolai, Soft Nikolai, Aftercare, Orgasm delay/denial, Light BDSM dynamics, Cuddling, Corruption kink, Brat Taming, Overstimulation, Dirty talk in Russian, Power dynamics, A dose of manipulation but everything is consensual Warnings: Brief mention of capture and torture A/N: This is my first and most likely not my last attempt to write for Nikolai. I really like this dynamic and welcome requests for more

When Nik first meets you, you try to rob him.

You’d been younger then. Wilder, scared of a world you struggled to survive in. With hardly a roof over your head, always an empty belly, chased by ghosts of a past you struggled to leave behind. You were desperate, constantly looking for a way out, clawing and scrambling at the stone alleyways in hopes you could one day see the sky.

He finds you like that- as a dirty, fierce little stray. In a grimy jacket, eyes wild, dirt smeared across your face, you hold up a knife to him and demand his wallet. Stupid, you know, but shivering, scared of the world that was destined to eat you alive, choosing a target far bigger than yourself.

Cute, he’d admitted later.

It takes little effort from him to twist the knife from your hand, examining it as you froze in a shock that only seems to multiply when he asks you if you want a warm meal. The offer is too tempting to ignore to your growling stomach, but in reality it’s the barest hint of softness behind his eyes that has you follow him like a kicked stray out of the cold.

Little did you know, behind that softness lay his own hunger. A deep, prowling thing that circled you beyond your sight.

He takes you to a quiet little eatery, out of the way, only three tables in what amounted to a shed. One of his favorites, he tells you with a smirk. The cook gives you both a look, suspicious of the man who had escorted in a woman much younger than him, dirty and nervous as you are. Nik lets you order, smirking still as you nervously pick something small, cheap, and he instead orders something large and warm for you. He watches you scarf down the entirety of your meal, gazing at him suspiciously all the while. He’s quiet- appraising you later realized.

You know of men like him. Gangsters, thugs, men who work alongside the mafia or even worse. Men from the underbelly of Russian society who walk in plainclothes and hold dark secrets. You know the danger of accepting favors from men like him. Be it your body, your servitude, or a debt paid in blood, men like those you feared would come to collect in due course, would bleed you dry and leave you ruined given the chance. The only charity they offered served their own interests, the cause they flew their flag for.

It became clear as time grew that Nikolai was not much different, that he had taken one look at you and had seen the thing you never saw in yourself:

Potential.

In the end he tells you if you ever need work to come find him, and find him you do.

You’d been foolish, you think back, if only because you’d been so young, naive without the lessons he would soon teach you.

It’s simple things at first. Taking packages and dropping them off at seemingly random locations, picking up things from shady characters who’d let their eyes rake down your form. In exchange Nikolai offers you a warm place to sleep, a roof over your head, hot meals and shelter from the ghosts that chase you. Distant, professional, but there all the same. Steadfast, waiting for your skittishness to shed itself before he comes closer. Waiting. Expectant.

Curious, you’d watch as he tinkers on his helicopter, cleans his cache of weapons, fixes the aging appliances in his house outside Saratov where the remains of the Soviet legacy lay etched between the old manors of the дворянство.

You observe, quiet at a distance, and ask him about the life he led, to which he was vague.

“I fix things.” He tells you simply, snapping a cartridge back into place with practiced efficiency.

You wondered then, if he was trying to fix you too.

He welcomes your interests in his work, skittish though you are, ready to dart back to a safe distance at a moment’s notice. You peer over his shoulder as he works at his tool bench in the hangar, assist him as he tightens screws on his helicopter, pass him ingredients as he cooks dinner for you both on his stove. Rather than answer any questions you pose, Nik elects to show you himself, putting his hands over yours and allowing them to guide you with ease in his tasks.

His protege, he introduces you as to those that ask. The younger woman he had taken under his tutelage. You’d almost resented it at the time, still suspicious, ready to flee at the first instance of betrayal. Yet inside you knew it was too late. In the same way that wolves became dogs, you found yourself near the fire of him, resting your weary bones as he offered you a place to stay.

Even if he held a leash behind his back.

Nik is careful, stern as a teacher but tender as a friend. In moments of learning his voice is whip-sharp to correct any mistakes, but in the quiet evenings he is almost soft, blunted at the edges in a way that betrays his indulgence in you. Each time he gets close, you try to ignore the way his touch lingers, holding back, greedy but restrained as your heart flutters inside your chest. Purposeful, careful not to spook you lest it ruin the things he’s predestined for you.

You try not to miss him when he leaves you behind for work, reminding yourself this is only temporary, to not let your guard down lest he burn you. He will someday stop having a use for you, and you will once again walk into the wild seeking shelter under a different name.

When he returns, you try to ignore the relief that bubbles inside your chest, the desperate hunger of a lonely thing looking for warmth.

You don’t see the glittering silver collar he envisions in his mind.

The teaching moments are constant. It’s not long before Nikolai begins taking you on assignments rather than leaving you at the house alone. You become familiar with the inside of the chopper, and learn to doze in the co-pilot seat when you are allowed. You help him catalog his ammo and supplies, listen over your headset as he explains piloting to you. In meetings with suppliers and clients he tells you quietly to stay inside the chopper behind him, and you peek out to see the eyes of his ‘friends’ flicking towards you. Curious, even as Nik stood as a stalwart wall between you and them.

In the passenger seat of his truck you learn to carefully balance his chosen rifle on your lap, feeling the stiffness ease from your shoulders as he lays a heavy hand across your nape. On long drives he stops at sunset to admire the view, and you hover close to his side as he smokes long drags of cigars. When he encourages you to try you cough on the smoke, and he thumps you between your back gently, chuckling even when you shoot him a glare. The next morning finds you somewhere new, and the lessons resume.

All the while his careful guidance reminds you to keep your eyes up, to stay alert, focused, to heed his warnings and obey his orders when given.

Nik is an endless wealth of knowledge when it comes to his profession. He’s deliberate in the things he teaches you: how to calculate the distance of a target 100 meters away, what the warning lights on the helicopter console meant, how to handle the kickback of a machine gun, where the major organs of the body were located and how to slice them open in deadly fashion. You take to the lessons easily as predators take to the snap of bone between jaws, and can’t help but preen with every accomplishment, every feat you manage to show him.

“Good girl.” He offers when you finish the task assigned to you, noticing the way you stiffen, a shiver racing down your spine at the praise. Testing the waters, quietly moving goalposts in his mind as he maps your future before you.

When you fell ill during that first winter he nurses you, sits your sluggish form up in bed against his chest and watches as you finish what little food you could stomach. When you insist on drinking with him one evening, pass beyond your tolerance, he smooths a hand over your back as you bend over the toilet bowl and whispers soothing reassurances in your ear. When you cut your palm on the edge of a tool bench in his helicopter hangar he lets you squeeze his hand as he pours alcohol over the gash, reminding you the wound would make you stronger. When you take a swig of the vodka to settle your nerves after your first mission with him he hums happily, murmuring an ounce of praise that settles low in your veins like warm liquor.

You let him, suspicious though you are, so desperate for a place to belong, to be taken care of, to have somewhere in which to shelter the storm. Nikolai is your mentor, yes, but more than that Nik shapes himself into your ally, into someone you can turn to, to a man you look to and seek praise from like turning your face to the sun.

Teaching you to eat from the palm of his hand.

You trail behind him at a distance, eyes softening and heart weary, seeking a soft place in which to rest itself. Nikolai is not a soft man, you remind yourself. Tender as he can be, his true heart remains a shadowed thing like all the men and women he keeps close. Even so you cling fast to that same shadow, hovering at his side as he makes a place for you there.

He’d plucked you from the wilds, had taken you like a starved, injured, feral animal into his care. You’d growled and snapped at him, unsure, suspicious of the twinkle behind his eyes that betrayed intentions you couldn’t quite discern. It was as if he knew the things you were capable of before even you could see them, the way he shaped you slowly under his care.

You stay there when he introduces you to his allies, to Price who looks at your skittish, suspicious nature and to Nik with a disapproving but knowing stare. You hear the meaning to it later as you creep downstairs to listen to them smoke outside.

“I won’t say anything.” Price tells him gruffly. “God knows I have my own vices. Just don’t ruin her, Nik.”

Nikolai takes a long, purposeful pause as he considers.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, captain.”

Price chuffs, but comments no further.

Slowly, Nik begins to move closer to you, getting you used to his touch. It seems incidental at first. Squeezing too close behind you in the kitchen and offering a chuckling apology as you feel his hips press against your spine; leaning over you to inspect your work, rubbing a hand between your shoulders after a hard day and relishing the tiniest little sigh you offer in return.

In his teachings he is deliberate, gauging your progress under a keen eye, offering life lessons just as he purrs little doses of praise at your progress. He knows you wouldn’t leave now, you’ve become too accustomed to a life under his care. So slowly, Nik begins to test the boundaries of your trust in him, pushing a little farther each time and leaving you dizzy in the wake of him.

In the hot days of summer he works with his shirt off, the broad span of his back glistening with sweat. You tell yourself it is just the warmth of the sun that lays upon your cheeks, but even then you find your eyes straying, catching his own knowing gaze at a distance. Teasing, waiting, expectant.

“Smells good.” He hums over your shoulder as you made breakfast one morning, bacon simmering in the pan. “You’d make a good wife.”

When you feel heat rise to your face, stammering and scandalized, Nik only laughs.

“Шучу.” He grins. “Just kidding.”

It doesn’t seem to be that much of a joke, not with the way Nik is so comfortable around you these days, easing into your personal space just enough to make your heart race, dangerous thoughts of the ‘what if?’ lingering even after he’s pulled away.

On longer jobs he puts a cot in the back of the chopper to sleep on. Normally he likes to sleep in the pilot seat- vigilant and ready to take off at the slightest hint of trouble. Yet sometimes he complains about his aging back and squeezes in behind you, tucking you against the wall and arranging you so you both share what little space there is. You can’t really find it in yourself to complain, taking in the warm, musky scent of his and letting it lull you into dreams.

Slowly, you come to him. You ease into his touch, to the way his hand rubs across your shoulders in greeting, the way he holds your hand as you stiffened during client negotiations. In the evenings he sometimes watches terrible knock-off action movies, rolls his eyes at the impossible stunts as you nod off on his shoulder. Comfortable, you curl into him- seeking the place you belonged, and Nik quietly smiles at the wild creature that has made a home in his heart.

On the odd stretches of time where there are few assignments to follow through from his strange clientele, Nik takes you on his version of a holiday. He brings you to places you’ve never been, restaurants in cities you didn’t know existed.

“Try this.” He tells you in that smirk of his, lifting an oyster from the Caspian Sea to your lips, loaded with butter and spices. You make a face as you swallow, lips closing around his fingers, and don’t notice the way Nik’s eyes flick to the bob of your throat, distracted. “Good girl.”

The praise sends a shiver up your spine, alighting inside you with the need to please him- this man who has taken you in, sheltered you, is teaching you everything he knows.

You don’t realize the danger you’re in when you realize you’ve gotten too comfortable.

It’s a sunny Wednesday morning when you’re taken.

Being the pretty, feral thing at Nik’s side comes with a fair bit of attention. People begin to notice the beautiful vixen at his side. Whispers of your skills echo in the halls of underground bunkers and private airliners. Nik is known to work alone, so to see you with him as his protege, his partner, his co-pilot that he trusts as much as he mentors, means that you’re a target.

You pop out for groceries on his old Soviet era moped, having pestered Nikolai for pirozhkis for dinner- to which he told you only if you fetched the ingredients yourself. You ignore the small gaggle of men smoking near the corner store, common as they were in your neighborhood. It’s only when you come out with your arms full that they spring on you.

Your head cracks against a stone wall. The world goes dark.

When you come to, you’re somewhere you don’t recognize. barely lucid, head pounding, they try and ask you questions about him you can’t answer. There’s things Nik keeps secret from you for your own safety, and the things they want to know are among them. The blows come, knock you from your chair, and you’re left alone in the cellar, trying to understand how the nightmare you dreaded before you met him could have come true after all.

The difference is- now they’ve made a mistake. They took you after he’d taught you how to survive.

The men who took you are stupid. They underestimate you, tying the ropes too loose for your frame. You manage to get your hands free first as Nik has taught you, then your feet. In the corner of the cellar a sliver of light peeks through broken slats, and despite your battered limbs and bruised hands, you peel the plank off quietly so it reveals the underbelly of the house. Like digging a den, you crawl your way into the earth, beyond the foundation, and stumble into the night before your captors even decide to check on you.

Escaping the snare, as wild things do.

It’s early in the morning when you manage to stumble to the back gate of the house. You trip over a loose rock in the soil, collapse in a heap of bruised limbs and fatigue just beyond the back step. The door swings open, and you close your eyes before you can see the sight of Nikolai with a rifle in his hands, ready to fend off intruders.

“лисёнок.” He murmurs hoarsely as he gathers you in his arms, cooing his name for you as you whimper into his chest. Injured, broken, limping back to him. Only him. “What did they do to you?”

You don’t tell him, too exhausted to form words, slumping against him and letting the crash of adrenaline pull you blissfully under.

When you wake up, you’re in his bed. Bandaged, tucked in tightly. He’s washing blood off his hands in the sink.

You don’t realize until later it isn’t yours.

You never ask him what he did to those men while you were asleep, maiming them, killing them for the offense of hurting you, only to come home and haul your figure close to him with whispered reassurances that they’d never touch you again.

Things...change after that.

It wasn’t as if Nik wasn’t affectionate before- he was. Nik’s fondness of you was intertwined with his mentorship. Yet there was always a sort of distance involved. Teasing, playful, interested but careful not to push too far lest he spook you away too soon.

Now, as you cling to him in the aftermath of your capture, shiver and feel your bandaged fingers grip at his shirt, Nik is indulgent.

He lets you sniffle into his chest, rubs his hand along the knot of your spine and rumbles low, soothing words in Russian. He hauls you to him, calls you quiet pet names, cuddles you close and reminds you you’re safe.

In your recovery Nik spoils you, allows you to take all the time you need. You sleep until noon, a rare luxury under his tutelage, and find him cooking your favorite meals when you wake. When you call for him, he’s there, helping you ascend the stairs with your mending knee. He sets you on the couch in warm blankets so you watch movies of your choice until you doze off, to which he carries you upstairs and tucks you quietly, sweetly, back into bed.

All this and more, as Nikolai silently declares to himself that he is never letting you go.

When you recover, the gentleness doesn’t seem to stop. Yet with it comes a sternness, a demand to yield to his promise to care for you, to keep you safe. The hole of want inside you yawns open for him, looking to his care, his guidance, seeking ways to please him. You’re softer now, no less deadly, but the softness in the aftermath has you brushing against him, yearning for his embrace, which Nik offers readily.

With his nose buried in your hair, your arms wrapped around his waist, Nik smiles at the silver snare he’s circled around your throat.

and, silently, he begins to pull.

“Behave.” He tells you when you snarl at a supplier who tries to upcharge him, and Nik lays a heavy hand on your nap that somehow feels like a warning. It settles low in your stomach, warm and liquid with a want you don’t understand yet but need all the same.

“That’s my girl.” He hisses as you stitch a gash on his arm after close contact when you were flying out of a hot zone. He takes another swig of his vodka and groans just as a drip of red oozes down your fingers. You shudder at the sound, feeling something pull taut below your belly, trying to echo the praise quietly in your thoughts.

“Pretty thing.” He smiles as he offers you one of his spare shirts on mission. You swore you had packed more, but the scent of him clings to your skin and it distracts you enough to not question it. You warm under his words, curl up beside him when he gestures. Obedient, wanting.

You think he’s gone from the chopper that night, tucked on the cot and sneaking a hand under your panties to rub idly at yourself- thinking of him. You’re surrounded by the scent of him, swaddled by a phantom of his warmth, and imagining what it would feel like to have his fingers inside you, stroking, coaxing wetness to trickle down the breadth of them. What would it be like, you wonder, for him to hold you like that, to whisper those filthy praises in your ear so you clench down on him?

Footsteps, boots on the metal grate, and a low chuckle.

You yank your hand free, but it’s too late.

“Don’t stop on my account, Дорогая.” He murmurs, and you back against the wall with a shuddering little gasp, skin on fire as Nikolai couches over you, ready to eat you whole. “I was only gone for a few minutes- did you miss me that much?”

The utter confidence in his voice, the knowledge that you were thinking of him, has wetness ooze between your thighs as you try to find your voice. It’s no use, because Nik swoops down against your lips, humming in satisfaction as you ease against him with a little whine, slowly reaching for him until you drag him down onto the cot with you. Surrendering at last.

Hours later, his seed dripping between your thighs, you doze on his chest while he smokes. Exhausted, entirely worn out from the number of orgasms he’s wrung from you, lulled to sleep by his calming heartbeat under your ear.

It’s the first night of many. Like a dam collapsed, Nik releases the full tidal wave of his desire onto you, never missing a chance to haul you to him, to bend you over, to sit you on his cock as you groan and leak around the stretch of him inside you. You realize far too late just how much Nik has been holding back, his hunger for you as boundless as your desire to please him, to stay.

He has you there in the chopper on the cot that can barely hold the weight of his thrusts, back in his bedroom where you collapse face first into the pillows. He eats you out slow and luxurious with you balanced on the kitchen counter, has you brace on his tool bench as he drapes himself against your spine and ruts into you from behind.

“Taking me so well, little fox.” He purrs in your ear, nimble fingers working at your clit as you hiccup and mewl for it. “So tight. Made for my cock, hm? Твоё тело сводит меня с ума. Fuck.”

Nik is an unstoppable force, with stamina you struggle to match. He keeps you in his bed as long as he is able, staving off his orgasm if only to prolong yours, trying to draw as many as he can from you even when your hand smacks at the headboard, trying to tap out.

“Just one more.” He growls as he tries to fuck you through the mattress, glued to your back so the heat of his frame, the swell of his cock inside you is the only thing you can feel. You’re teary eyed, gasping, the lewd squeal as he thrusts into you filling the quiet of the bedroom. Your eyes roll back just as he nails that perfect bundle of serves inside you, voice caught on a choked sort of whimper. “Just one more and then we can take a break, darling.”

You sprawl against the sheets, exhausted as he lounges bare by the window, a whisp of smoke curling from his cigarette before returning to you once more, spooning you and slipping back inside the sloppy mess of your well-used cunt.

“Good girl.” He tells you again when you moan breathlessly, hand cupping your jaw and turning you to him so he can kiss the gasp from your parted lips. You clench down on him at the words, and he hisses a sound of pleasure against the corner of your mouth. “All mine. My girl.”

“Yours.” You whisper hoarsely, as if there were any other answer.

In the come-down he gathers you to him, kisses the tears of overwhelm from your eyes and holds you as you shiver in the aftermath of your orgasm, feeling worn to the bone in only the best of ways. Cum splatters the inside of your thighs, and Nik idly scoops it onto his fingers and back inside, purring endearments between presses of his lips to your face.

Comforting, gentle when you need it, but demanding, forcing you to surpass beyond what you think yourself capable of if only to see the glimmer of pride in his eyes. When you fail, deliverance is swift as it’s always been, but now it’s different.

“I told you no touching.” He growls, forcing you to look at him as his thumb circles roughly over your clit. He’d caught you masturbating in your room, thinking the house was empty, that he wouldn’t catch you. “You want to touch yourself, you come to me, sweet thing. I’ll take care of you, I always do, don’t I?”

“Yes, yes-” You pant, bucking your hips, desperate, aching without the fullness of him, but Nik pulls away. “Wait. P-please-”

“Need to learn your lesson, little fox.” He soothes, pressing a kiss into your hair even as you whine, trying to buck up and grind against him in a vain search for friction. “Make sure it sticks, Да?”

Yet even as you obey, keep your hands to yourself just as you promised, Nik delights in working you up and pulling away at the last minute. He corners you, slips his hand beneath your waistband and soaks his fingers in your leaking cunt until you moan and mewl for him, then withdraws if only to smirk and suck the taste from them. For days he teases you, edges you until a hiccup threatens in your throat, makes sure you’ve learned your lesson that you are his, and then pulls away to let the reminder sink in. You can’t stand it, go mad with need, find yourself close to humping his knee if only to get some sort of relief.

When he finally does let you come days later, you howl into his flesh, biting down into his skin until he shudders, groans against you and spills inside your clenching cunt.

“My sweet girl.” He murmurs, stroking your face as he cuddles you afterwards. “Я не могу без тебя жить.”

You smile, nuzzle into the warmth of him, knowing he has you, he always will. You can’t forget, not with the things he growls against you as he makes love to you, reminding you that you belong to him. Soft in his room, you lay with him, fold into him as a beacon of safety and trust, know that he will never hurt you, will keep you safe, that this will always be your home.

In front of others you’re his partner, his accomplice, the apprentice he found like a diamond in the rough and had polished into a perfect blade. Deadly, clever, keen-eyed and watchful of all threats. Nik tells Price you don’t play well with others when Price tries to introduce his own protege, and when Gaz offers his hand in greeting you make no motion to return it until Nik grazes a thumb against the side of your throat as if tugging an invisible collar there.

“Careful.” He warns the sergeant. “She bites.”

In private he calls you all his endearments in purring Russian. Ангел, Прелесть, Огонёк. Angel, precious, little fire, the object of his desire. You're his girl, his sweet, fierce little sweetheart, the thing he taught to eat out of the palm of his hand while keeping your wild, dangerous nature.

You're his only family, his beloved little fox he managed to domesticate, the thing that still will bite him given the chance, but likes to curl up in his lap and yawn like a housecat. You're his obsession, his partner, his apprentice. If anything else, you're his weakness.

“Я тебя никому не отдам.” He swears to you, voice a low, deep rumble as he strokes your face, feeling your sleeping breaths fan across his palm.

“I will never give you to someone else.”

You dream of the first day you met him. Feral, scared, hungry and starved and inside- looking so desperately for somewhere safe to call home.

Now, years later, you know. Generous though Nik was, it was this that he had hoped for in the beginning- with you as his partner, his protege, but at the end of the day sleeping in his bed, worn and exhausted from the effects of his desire. Dangerous, feral, useful, but in the end tamed just as he’d envisioned.

And you, younger than him by years and foolish as you were, had gone blindly into the snare.

Nik had never given you any reason to regret it.

Russian Translations (Native Russian speakers feel free to leave a comment of correction)

Дворянство - Russian nobility

Шучу - I’m joking

Лисёнок. - Little fox

Дорогая - Darling

Твоё тело сводит меня с ума - Your body drives me crazy

Да - Yes

Я не могу без тебя жить - I can’t live without you

#nikolai x reader #cod x reader #cod nikolai x reader #nikolai x you #call of duty modern warfare 3 #my writing #my fic #x reader

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stirringwinds · 4 months

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What do you think about Canon's idea of nations having their own special nation language?

Thanks for the question! Personally, I don’t really vibe with it at all? Genuinely no shade at all to anyone who enjoys it; I can see how conceptually, it’s playing with the idea that nations are different from humans and have some things in common. I’m sure there are many ways to be creative and thoughtful with it. I do think there are other ways nations have things in common and feel other nations ‘get’ them more than humans. But to me it shouldn’t be an actual language—and the idea of a universal language personally doesn’t gel with the type of historical hetalia I usually explore.

The acquisition of a language, who is or is not understood, or who has to learn which languages, is inseparable from power, imperialism and the socio-political relations between nations. I don't take this approach because 'no fun magic allowed in fandom' (because nations are magic and magic is fun) but because I think linguistic difference is fascinating to integrate into nation relationships and adds many human layers to the characters. Linguistic dominance (or erasure) is such a tool of empire; we only need to look at how the British Empire privileged English at the cost various languages all across the empire, from Welsh to Māori. Or how the Spanish did over Nahuatl in Mexico and so on. Since empire is a theme I’m interested in exploring in hetalia, the existence of fictional universal language that provides nations with an alternative forum to be heard and understood…rather detracts from the human, historical reality, imo, of how the ability to speak or write and be listened to is inherently unequal. This is an aspect of humanity that I don’t want nations to be exempt from experiencing, particularly when language is such a key part of their being—like I headcanon that one of Alfred's first languages wasn't just English but Carolina Algonquian, the language of the Croatan people at Roanoke, which Arthur did not speak, and that difference was one divide between them as colony and empire—Arthur certainly Anglicised Alfred's education and exerted power over him that way once he claimed him as his 'son'.

Further, if anything, I feel like the “universal language” is just…a bit redundant and not as compelling, when in historically, there are specific lingua francas that have existed for one reason or another, between countries. Which we can explore. And the politics of that ^nicely encapsulates the history of cultural exchange and power dynamics. For example, between the East Asian nations—it’s classical Chinese. Kiku and Yong-soo learned how to write in Yao’s language because he was powerful and culturally dominant. To me, it’s significant if Kiku and Yong-soo could not actually make Yao understand until they learned his language, and he, conversely, could elect to ignore them. There was no universal language they could use (save of course, general human expressions and body language lol—which are not quite sufficient for the specifics of diplomatic relations, trade…and peace treaties). I do think Yao’s a seasoned polyglot who finds learning languages entertaining, and he does eventually learn Korean and Japanese—but the point remains that who gets to be the lingua franca and why such lingua francas exist in humanity, are compelling to explore.

And so all that’s something I want nations to directly partake in and experience just as humanity did, with no convenience of a universal nation language existing at all, in shaping their interactions with one another. It’s just more interesting anyway, for me to think of Alfred and Kiku speaking Dutch because of his long term relationship with Jan (and in real life, that’s the bridge language the Perry Expedition used).

Lastly...for me the notion of a universal language (not just a sixth sense or instinct) that all nations, big or small, colony or empire, are born knowing without having to learn, and with which they can understand every other nation—imo, detracts from the human reality of how all languages are deliberate constructions created and given meaning by a specific community’s cultural context. My two primary languages are from drastically different language families. Even the way I think and to some extent, see the world, is consequently somewhat different whether I am expressing it in English or Mandarin Chinese. Two totally dissimilar writing systems, with no common origin—English belongs to the Germanic branch of the Indo-European family, Mandarin on the Sino-Tibetan. That’s not to say they cannot both co-exist in my head—they definitely can. English and Chinese have mutually incorporated words from each other. But all languages ultimately make sense only in the context of a cultural community that the user is in contact with or at least has exposure to, even if only third or fourth-hand through written materials rather than a native speaker. Even non-verbal languages like sign language—it’s different in different countries. Language isn’t like being born with a sense of smell or touch; it is so much more specific than that, and how it's acquired is such a vital aspect of humanity that I just want these eldritch fucks to experience the same way that we humans do. I hope that explains my take on it!

#hetalia #hetalia headcanons #hws america #hws China #hws south Korea #hws Japan #hws England #hws Netherlands

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gayshrug · 5 months

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pit babe ep 6 thoughts

[yet unknown kinks, unlocked]

WHERE DO I EVEN START

- i was spoiled re: the mommy/daddy kink by my dash but holy fuck. AND THEY JUST KEPT RUNNING WITH IT. did i think it was kinda cringe at the start? yeah. but the way babe was visibly into it and getting flustered....... lord. if we're getting mpreg (or just more breeding kink) because charlie's an enigma............... i'm into it. the night sky date/ locker room/ restaurant scenes with that bit of their (new) dynamic thrown in made me giddy. also - pavel is legit one of the prettiest people i've ever seen. idk what it is about his face and expressions but i could stare at him all day. and that little switch in charlie's demeanor when they were roleplaying......... 😳 nice

- the bg music choices are getting worse with each episode i need them to roll it back

- i get why dean's upset (and alan laying down those harsh truths didn't help) but the show really hasn't given us enough of him for me to really care. sorry girl good riddance have fun canoodling with the enemy

- ALANJEFF. i love them so so so so much. jeff playing that tsundere act while smiling to himself killed me. and alan is already so head over heels for him!!!!!!! that "darling" scene was SO fucking funny. i didn't even mind the additional toyota ad because it gave us more of them being ~them. i also loved that jeff was the only one to console/ advise jeff after the conflict with dean. it's not a "older man leading and educating the younger one" dynamic at all.

- way. way way way. nut is an amazing actor, the car scene really made me feel for him, but in general, i cannot condone his behavior. whether babe knows about way's feelings for him (how could he not) doesn't matter - seeking out someone else because you hope they'll eventually fall in love with you is so messed up. i understand that he can't control his own feelings but blaming babe for.... abandoning him? makes no sense in the context of a friendship.

- babe doesn't owe him intimacy in exchange for his companionship. and once again trying to use his mind control powers in a moment of emotional distress is so......... like, you don't respect babe as an autonomous person. he is not a doll for you to use as you please. the flashback was sweet and heartbreaking, yeah, but even then it wasn't babe who initiated the necklace-gift. way asked for it with an overarching hope in mind.

- idk if i'm not paying enough attention or what but, imo, the only major way in which babe has changed is that he's kinder and happier. throwing that in his face just because you're not his only confidante anymore is fucked.

- again, though - nut is an amazing crier on-screen. he almost got me.

- i assume jeff had a vision of the crash but judging by the rest of the preview, charlie seems fine? so maybe there's a way for them to alter reality to avoid the outcome of his premonitions. idk.

- holy fuck we're probably gonna get to know what charlie's actually after. if we're getting the Adoptive Brothers Reveal next episode, i'm gonna be screaming and throwing up

- it's my biggest pet-peeve that we only ever get one (1) episode of fluff that's immediately followed by angst 😭 i'm too much of a baby for that chat

- i hope we're finally gonna get some kenta/kim next ep. i need them to start conspiring to off tony because i can't take it anymore

tl;dr: 10/10 i wanna hear them moan "mama" and "papa" at least once. that clip of pavel calling pooh daddy is gonna haunt me forever (affectionate)

#why does this feel like i wrote an essay but also didn't say much at all sksjdjdjfc #anyway can't wait for the next ep #pit babe #pit babe the series #thai bl

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misspermitted · 1 year

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So after my 50th time rewatching the "I need you Hannibal" scene I've gotten so obsessed I'm doing a close analysis. Also I'm procrastinating. Yes I purposefully subtitled Hannibal with a black box and Will with a white one, because symmetry.

So firstly, I love how the first shot is Will walking towards the open gates in Hannibal's mind palace that he symbolically opened to leave in the previous goodbye scene.

It's noteworthy that Hannibal says 'goodbyes.' He's not just referring to Will's previous conversation with Hannibal, but Will saying goodbye to Jack, Alana, and this old life.

The response "we have one last good bye between us" is, like all things in this scene, dripping with subtext. On the surface Will is saying, 'we're not finished yet, we have to do one more thing' but I almost think, subtextually, he's not referring to saying goodbye to Hannibal at all, but the one last goodbye from them to Jack and Alana. Will has fallen, Hannibal has spent enough time playing with them, it is time for them both to leave. For good.

I think this shot is really cool. It shows that, in the current dynamic, Will is essentially coming back to grovel to Hannibal. He is looking up at Hannibal in the shot. Hannibal is physically higher.

Hannibal's dialogue is also really interesting here. He is desperate for Will to apologise to him, yet he won't fully admit his vulnerability. He feigns ignorance of what exactly will says. He's trying to mock Will for having to come back and grovel without admitting that he was hurt.

This is the first closeup of the scene and it's powerful. It shows us Will's hesitation as he repeats it. Yet also the camera has a slight upward tilt; this isn't him grovelling and saying sorry. He's stating a fact. I've seen a lot of metas about this scene which say this is Hannibal regaining control by getting Will to say please, but I really don't think it is. This is them becoming equals. This is Will saying: I can hurt you, but I need you, so you can also hurt me.

Hannibal WINCES. Like the significance of Hannibal being so hurt by just hearing Will say that again that he winces and drops his superiority act. This is Hannibal expressing vulnerability. And this expression drops the mind palace, the make pretend that Hannibal is looming over Will. They're in reality now.

Ignoring how jarring it is to hear Hannibal say 'mic drop', Hannibal mimics Will so many times during this exchange. I'll point the other out as they happen, but I think this is the first time . I think it's such a weird but fun role reversal, we see Will mimic Hannibal many times during the show, as he feels the lines between them blur. The beginning of Will's villain arc is him getting all groomed and suited up, having cannibal dinners, echoing Hannibal's behaviour. Now, Hannibal is locked up like Will was, and he's mimicking his slang. It's kinda like how whenever they did the mirror effect between Will and Hannibal in season 3B Will is projected over Hannibal. It's like how Hannibal betrayed Will and ran off to get married, and then that's what Will did to Hannibal. Will blurred with Hannibal, Hannibal is now blurring with Will.

It zooms to a contextual shot as Hannibal acknowledges that Will has come back, after such an epic goodbye. Will is vulnerable, just like Hannibal is. They're at equal standing, and this is shown.

Will isn't going to apologise to Hannibal. Like Hannibal was never gonna apologise to Will. But Will is gonna do what he wanted Hannibal to do in season 2: he's going to admit his behaviour. Which is a big deal for one these emotionally constipated gays. Hannibal tries to prod Will into admitting his manipulations in their previous conversation, where Will responds "Are you accusing me of something?" Will never admits his behaviour. Even his 'goodbye' isn't an admission, it's just a statement that Hannibal wouldn't of turned himself in if Will hadn't of rejected him. Not that Will knew and planned it. But this is an admission.

But Hannibal, who is clearly smiling and impressed, still needs more. His 'and you did' prods Will. I have admitted I need you. Admit that you need me. Stop dancing around it.

I'm crying. Hugh Dancy is such a great actor oh my god. Will hesitates for quite a moment. He doesn't want to admit it. When he actually says the phrase 'I need you' he can't even meet Hannibal's eyes. Given how much eye sex Will and Hannibal have, when they break eye contact it's a big deal. Will breaks eye contact another time in this scene as well, in the next big statement, and I think it's important to consider that Will sees eye contact as distracting and overwhelming intimacy. He barely makes eye contact with Hannibal during his first prison visit in a desperate attempt to close that intimacy between them.

If I'm right Will does not call Hannibal by his first name at all in season 3B. Hannibal comments "are we no longer on a first name basis" and Will emphasises that he doesn't want to be personal. Will calls Hannibal his name twice in this conversation. The last time he called Hannibal by his first name was when Will rejected him. It is such a manipulation technique by Will yes, emphasising their connection, but it's also an acknowledgement of their intimacy. We are on a first name basis.

The second example of Hannibal mimicking Will! Directly repeating Will's slang from their last conversation. Also Hannibal looking so pleased with himself. It's a lot. This scene is like my favourite scene. I'm emotional.

Okay so the next bit is, in my opinion, two conversations. One for the listeners and one between Will and Hannibal. I'm going to say my interpretation of the secret conversation.

I have been contacted by the dragon, he wants to meet you. There's no way Hannibal didn't get that from the 'maybe.' Will never says 'maybe' if he's profiling. He's been contacted.

I am serious about this. I rejected you before. I have come back. i am staying back. This is a serious invitation. I'm interpreting this because Hannibal's previous 'ding dong the dragon's not dead' is somewhat mocking Will's previous certainty the dragon died. "You were wrong. And now you're wrong you're so quick to turn back to my help." Will's responding "I'm not being hasty. I need you. What I'm planning, I can't go back. This is a serious offer."

If Will wasn't being clear enough that he has another plan, the 'personal ads' reference was a straight communication. When Will accuses Hannibal of communicating with Dolarhyde he says "How do you think I'm doing it? Personal ads?" It's a clear point of mockery: so boring, so obvious.

Another important aspect of this is that Will doesn't say after we fake the escape. If you didn't know the context, you'd think he was talking about a real escape. This is a purposeful choice: We're escaping. Dolarhyde knows this.

3rd time Hannibal mimicks Will in this scene! Will raises his head, Hannibal follows suit. It may seem small, but this is a large part of what Will would do to Hannibal in season 2. They'd be sipping wine, Hannibal would take a sip, and Will would mimic Hannibal swallowing has he did. It plays into the 'doing the same thing at different times' 'you and I are beginning to blur' symbolism.

Also this conversation has turned to entirely subtext. Hannibal understands the plan. This is a discussion:

'He won't go near a mail drop': You're expecting me to meet Dolarhyde with you when he wants to change me?

'He might be curious enough to look at one, see if you sold him.': Aren't you curious what will happen? Aren't you curious if I'll let him? The use of curious clearly shows that this exchange is about them. It is the documented reasoning behind Hannibal's plans, he's curious. Curious as an adjective are only used to describe Hannibal, or by Will to describe his reasonings when he begins his villain arc. Aren't you curious if I sold you? Essentially.

'That sounds weak to you, even as you say it': How did you convince them of this? It sounds weak. Hannibal doesn't need to call out that Will is lying. He knows this. That's why he's so intrigued. But Hannibal loves asking Will how he manipulates people: it's enjoyable to him. 'What a cunning boy you are.' etc.

I honestly don't have a very convincing interpretation of this next part. If anyone else has some ideas? But I really like 'You're our best shot Hannibal.' It communicates: They're desperate enough for this. They need me, so they need you. Also it's the second time he uses his name in this discussion.

Will's expression at the end, with the raised eyebrow. Firstly, this is the closest I come to be sexually attracted to someone, flirtatious fucker. Secondly, it's such a clear: you in? Like, Hugh Dancy, how are you this good!?

This meme is such a clear description of what that facial expression means haha. Anyway back to the analysis.

This, despite being a clear, I'm always a slut for murder, is also so clearly: Will, I had a request.

Also! The change in perspective to over the shoulder blocks out the people in the background, which shows the growing intimacy again. In their heads, they're now the only ones in the room. The person suit for listeners conversation is over.

Firstly, very whore of him to move closer and whisper the please. This is such a clear flirtation. The whisper also makes it more personal, not for those watching, just for them.

Yet, despite the intimacy, Will can't meet his eyes. He still shies away from these very vulnerable requests. Another interpretation I have seen is that he is teasing Hannibal, not looking him in the eyes, clearly not desperate with his please, as if: make me mean this. Which is also very Will. So I'm on board with that. Especially with him backing away with the expression: is that good enough? Definitely very: you want me to beg, put some more effort into this and slay the dragon with me.

This is contentious shot. This is the main shot that metas have based their interpretations that this ends with Hannibal's victory. And in a way, it does. Will had admitted he needs Hannibal, and has asked Hannibal to run away with him, with a please. Yet this whole scene is much more than this shot, and most of it is equal. This shot, I think, with Hannibal's smile, does show that Hannibal has gotten what he wants. His happiness. But so has Will. They're equal.

Anyway that's the end of this meta haha. This has been really goddamn long, your welcome I guess.

#hannibal #hannigram #nbc hannibal #hannigram nbc #will graham #hannibal lecter #hannibal meta

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away-ward · 9 days

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wow, your latest qna about DN made me think, who is the most and least aggressive person in ranking? What do you think KO? How would you rank them? I think my top three would be damon/ emory/ michael. Now that you've mentioned about damon and emory, it reminded me of your past posts about their personalities and collaboration, how well they could work together without having any problems because they probably are pretty much on the same level of aggression and level-headedness, and only until now, i never actually realised that emmy IS pretty aggressive and dominant?

I dont think PD executed em's character well, but because of that qna, it made me zoom out of my understanding of DN and compare and contrast these characters, and surely, emmy really was pretty aggressive. Like why am i even shock, lmfaooo. I think other than PD not executing it well, emmy was also dealing with a lot of doubts and fear when it comes the "thunder bay" part of her life. We dont see her hesitating afterwards right? But then we dont see much of her overall. This also made me think thats why the train exchange between emmy, michael and kai had to happen. Or she will just leave again lmao.

like In comparison to banks who is outwardly pretty aggressive, but in actuality, she is more of a good follower of damon, her mom, gabriel and even kai in that hideaway bonus than a good enforcer (like you mentioned) or a pioneer, i feel like emmy is more aggressive in spirit than banks, i guess? Naturally, not just because of survival. Which also made me find banks & emmy's dynamic to be so interesting because on one hand we have emmy who looks laidback (we're talking about after nightfall) and banks who has piercing eyes, but in reality if push comes to shove, emmy would lead banks, not the other way around? Oh, wow? Or am i wrong? Like, do you get my vision, KO? It made sense right? And i feel so much headcanon can be done with that where banks could possiblly and finally get a close friend who she can follow who would catch her and lead her well rather than try to cage her all the time like everyone who's dominant than her in her life rn? Damn! We could've had that!!!

like the cocky laidback dominant nerd and her very prickly piercing submissive rule-follower/enforecer best friend? Like this friendship will be the first time where the use of the word "submissive" and "dominant" dont sound condescending because both banks and emmy can feel safe in their dynamics because they saw nothing wrong being either role, because! Theyre! Besties! And! Would! Kill! For! Each! Other! And put! Others! To! Jail! For! Each! Other! Omg? Noooo, like can you see the vision, KO? AHHHH! I remember watching larryreads's reaction to reading nightfall and she mentioned something about emmy being a shy nerd and i was like what? Did we read the same book, because the word shy or blush didnt even exist in nightfall. I remember emmy being described as ready-to-fight, cocky and stubborn, and quite flirt/spicy when she let go too (hence why emmy overpowered alex in their friendship dynamic, or even between emmy and aydin/damon), as oppose to banks who's very beautiful, prickly, super great boxing fighter, outwardly aggressive, steady reliable great worker who can also work in the dark, very loyal and honest. Im not saying they both dont possess these traits, im just saying one is more dominant than the others when it comes to these traits, especially in decision making. Emmy dngaf much about being shrewd or use lies and manipulation in a bigger scale, but banks did grew up being forward, straightforward and honest. And omg, another contrast!!

OMGGGGG If DN is famous, AO3 writers wouldve written them as that powerful feme duo, frfr. Ngl, banks and emmy really reminds me of Tristan and Dante from the dark verse series by runyx, where tristan is banks, and dante is emmy. Tristan is that dark, broody, killer and dante is the mediator and decider. Remind me of lana myers and jake denver, jake is emmy and lana is banks in terms of the do-er and the mastermind. Submissive and dominant. Not in the temperament all the time, but in overall characteristics and actions? And i just noticed too that We just dont see because emmy as being aggressive or pioneering because of side characters overtaking her povs in nightfall + her being introverted. But even then, i feel like emmy's voice still surface above them when it comes to decision making whether anyone agrees or not, which is why emmy can also be very divisive in the fandom, Which omg!!!! This brings back to that MBTI test, emmy really does sound like an INTJ, haha! And banks, ESTJ? ISTJ? Anyway, didnt emmy took a lot of control in fire night? From her conversation with will, her going after the evil guys, and talking to the cops. Yeah.

Like tbh im just running off with these ideas, that qna opens up a whole new discussion for the emmy x banks best friends agenda that i never thought of before. It also made me consider different types of aggression, like physical, emotional and thinking. And i feel like inner aggression (in spirit) would still dominate others. No matter how i see, i cannot see anyone being ranked above emory, damon and michael in terms of aggression. i feel like even kai ranks below them, because he can be neutral and passive sometimes. But thats the thing, theres no right or wrong or whos better or worse like emmy was better because shes dominant and banks was worse because she was submissive; theres just only the ranking, and it actually does open up to a deep dive of these characters' traits, and how they shape each others' dynamics. And if they really are family who fight for each other and cross anybody who comes after them, they were bound to trust each other with their temperament, strengths and weakneses sooner or later right? Rather than everybody doing whatever they want, the task divided by the the keader would be more efficiently done.

so what do you think of these? I dont rank will, rika and winter because i feel like theyre more on the submissive side. And i believe they fully enjoy their roles and have no priblem doing whatever works for the sake of their family. Not every one can and HAVE to be dominant, what one cant do, the others can. Thats what found family does right?

This ask is so exciting! Let’s get right into it. I’m going to save my ranking for the end, but I did have to spend some time thinking about it.

i never actually realised that emmy IS pretty aggressive and dominant? I dont think PD executed em's character well, but because of that qna, it made me zoom out of my understanding of DN and compare and contrast these characters, and surely, emmy really was pretty aggressive.

I’m not really sure why people started thinking about Emory as a smol shy bean, because she’s not passive in the least. In the past scenes, we met her when she’s quitting the swim team, and she says this is because she can no long wear the swim suit but she knows this is going to piss Martin off.

The thing is, she pisses Martin off on purpose on the regular as a way to rebel. She’s quiet about her abuse because she wants to remain close to her grandmother, and I’m not implying that she enjoys it by any means. Still, she knows Martin expects perfection from her, so she purposefully doesn’t brush her hair or iron her uniform. She lets the buttons fall off her cuffs. You can’t tell me Emory couldn’t figure out how to sew a button. She quits band, too. She does these things to intentionally irritate him.

She goes to her first period class; a senior class because they moved her up from the junior level because she wouldn’t shut up and stop challenging the teacher. Of course, there she doesn’t speak up much, but considering the subject matter, can we blame her? She still walks out without the teacher’s approval.

Emory likes showing off. She likes feeling like the smartest or most skilled person in the room. She thinks of herself that way, for the most part. Even when she gets to Blackchurch, and she doesn’t know anything about anyone there, she still thinks of herself as better simply because she’s not a criminal (which is funny for someone who previously watched a murdered happen, and helped bury a body, and vandalized a grave, and nearly committed grand theft auto, and so on, but the self-awareness is difficult when you’re in an unhealthy mental state). And despite being in a room full of criminals, she shows no hesitation in trying to best them because it’s what comes naturally to her.

I don’t think that PD told Emory’s story in the best way possible. However, a lot of what makes Emory who she is, is subtle and takes some digging and examining to understand. This could be said for all the characters, it’s just that I don’t like most of the characters enough to try to examine them this deeply. There is one bonus with PD not giving Emory a lot of attention – there’s less time to make her contradict herself as we see with Damon and Rika. As their characters get more and more light, some things make less and less sense.

Regardless, I agree with her that Emory is one of the most aggressive characters in terms of personality within the main crew.

We dont see her hesitating afterwards right? But then we dont see much of her overall. This also made me think thats why the train exchange between emmy, michael and kai had to happen. Or she will just leave again

At this point, I don’t think Emory had any plans of leave which is why she agreed to stay so easily. But it’s interesting that Michael said she was going to stay at St. Killian’s where they could watch her and she immediately refused that in a way that made it clear she would still be doing what she wanted.

Michael has to decide if it’ll be worth the effort it’ll take to exert his dominance over her, knowing she won’t go down easily. He backs off because it’s enough that she’s playing along.

I think he knows that he could overpower her if he wanted to. It’s just not worth the effort when she’s cooperating, which means he knows how much it would take to get her to do what he wanted. It’s an interesting dynamic.

In comparison to banks who is outwardly pretty aggressive, but in actuality, she is more of a good follower of damon, her mom, gabriel and even kai in that hideaway bonus than a good enforcer (like you mentioned) or a pioneer, i feel like emmy is more aggressive in spirit than banks, i guess? Naturally, not just because of survival

This is an excellent contrast.

Banks, in my opinion, is great at getting things done. She’s capable of calling the shots and making decisions. However, she’s also interested in maintaining the established order of things.

Maybe that’s why she wanted to be Senator, or was at least willing to go along with it. Coming into the group, there was already a dynamic at play. Michael was the leader, Kai his second, Rika his girl. She’s coming in under Kai and Damon. There’s a structure to the way the group works.

She isn’t afraid to call it how she sees it, which makes her useful to Michael. Kai is much to interested in keeping things agreeable. For instance, in the Hideaway deleted scene when he almost doesn’t tell Will why they’re meeting without him. He doesn’t want to alienate Will or make him feel bad for his behavior, even though his behavior has been pretty undesirable from a business standpoint. Banks doesn’t have that issue.

Still, she doesn’t want to disrupt the order, so she sticks to her role and doesn’t challenge it. Being a Senator gives her a space where she’s the one in control. It’s a different structure than what she’s walked into with the Horsemen.

In terms of how aggressive they are in getting their opinions across or getting their way, I do agree that Emory is more aggressive than Banks.

if push comes to shove, emmy would lead banks, not the other way around? Oh, wow? Or am i wrong? Like, do you get my vision, KO? It made sense right?

I think what we’re talking about is a battle of wills. Banks is straightforward, while Emory is more reserved, but both are loyal and value their relationships, so it could be that with each other they’d bend a little.

What you’re saying does make sense, but I think the way I’m interpreting it is that Emory, insisting on her idea and visions, gets her way if only because Banks doesn’t want to fight it. It’s not something she’s motivated to do, and she’s fine giving Emory the room to be the lead in their relationship.

because both banks and emmy can feel safe in their dynamics because they saw nothing wrong being either role, because! Theyre! Besties! And! Would! Kill! For! Each! Other! And put! Others! To! Jail! For! Each! Other! Omg? Noooo, like can you see the vision, KO?

I agree that there’s nothing insulting about they’re dynamics. I really do thing that they work because there’s nothing negative about the way they approach each other. They’d support each other undoubtingly, but give each other room to be themselves.

When they’re at they’re best, I think Banks is more subdued and accepting than Emory is. Like I said above, Banks is more outgoing and straightforward, but Emory’s opinions on things are stronger, so I think Banks would let her have her way.

However, if it did come to a point where they were on opposite sides of an issue, Emory would probably hold out longer than Banks. Unlike Michael, I don't think Banks would be able to subdue Emory if she wanted to. I also just don't think Banks would ever want to.

Additionally, regarding what you said at the start about my analysis of Damon and Emory’s relationship – I think if a difficult situation arose, Banks would seek out the others before acting, whereas Emory and Damon would know what needs to get done and silently do it without involving the others. They’re not going to wait for confirmation, or for the crew to debate, or wrestle with their conscience. They know what the hard decision is and they’ll make it without needing to discuss it. Banks could make the difficult choice too and be confident in it, she would just talk to the others first. That's the difference.

If DN is famous, AO3 writers enver written them as that powerful feme duo, frfr. Ngl, banks and emmy really reminds me of Tristan and Dante from the dark verse series by runyx, where enver is banks, and dante is emmy. Tristan is that dark, broody, killer and dante is the mediator and decider. Remind me of lana myers and jake enver, jake is emmy and lana is banks in terms of the do-er and the mastermind

Unfortunately, I don’t know any of these references. I mean, I know where they come from, but I haven’t read any of those so I can’t confirm. However, if someone else has thoughts you’re willing to share, please jump in.

This brings back to that MBTI test, emmy really does sound like an INTJ, haha! And banks, ESTJ? ISTJ?

Ah, yes the MBTI. I never heard back from the person who asked me to clarify, but I guess I’ll take the chance now.

When I started looking at my original answers, I was overcome with this feeling that Banks was an Extrovert. But that didn’t make any sense; Banks as an extrovert? So I started reading scenes with her exclusively, and I realized that… yeah, there’s a good chance for it.

What I did from there was go to MBTI-Notes, which is a blog here on tumblr, and instead of going directly to the types to see which one “fit”, I went through the functions and through process of elimination, narrowed down which function seemed to be expressed through the character’s POV chapters. From there, I built a stack that formed a type. I then went to the type to see if it worked.

Understandably, most worked… if you take into account the types when they’re in “grips” or “loops” (are we really surprised that all of the characters fall in the unhealthy range for their type). Anyway, being stuck in a grip or loop can change the way you’re personality presents outwardly.

Through this method, I determined Banks was an ESTJ, and here is the page for that. With Emory, I came to the conclusion she was INFJ.

But I encourage you to go through the functions and see what you come up with. There were definitely times I was on the fence for all the characters, so it’s up for interpretation.

Like tbh im just running off with these ideas, that qna opens up a whole new discussion for the emmy x banks best friends agenda that i never thought of before.

That’s really the reason why I continue to post these asks. It opens up the conversation, allows people to see a different interpretation and think about it. Maybe you agree, maybe you don’t. But it gets the conversation started.

No matter how i see, i cannot see anyone being ranked above emory, damon and michael in terms of aggression. i feel like even kai ranks below them, because he can be neutral and passive sometimes. - theres no right or wrong or whos better or worse like emmy was better because shes dominant and banks was worse because she was submissive; theres just only the ranking, and it actually does open up to a deep dive of these characters' traits, and how they shape each others' dynamics

Exactly! It’s only natural that people have different strengths and weaknesses. I love when it’s clear that a group works because they rely on each other and make up for each other’s lack, and no one is made to feel ashamed for it.

Anyway, my ranking of characters in terms of how aggressive their personality it:

These three take the top, as you said. The way that I see it, them wanting things they're way is a driving force in all they're stories. They’re competitive, and hate losing. In fact, I think they feel the pain of losing more than they feel the satisfaction of winning, and that's what drives them.

Damon

Michael

Emory

Damon comes first for obvious reasons, Michael comes second because he keeps Damon in line, and then Emory because while I don’t think she can control Damon, she won’t be steamrolled by him either. And that says something. And since these three can handle each other, we know anyone else is a breeze.

Banks because she’s upfront about it. Then comes Will because he can be aggressive when he’s pushed to it. But also the whole Blackchurch, faking being subdued while he was actually waiting for the moment to take control, which he was planning and preparing for… he’s not as submissive as he wants people to believe he is.

Banks

Will

Kai

Also, the moment in Emory’s house when he tells her that Martin needs to know about him, that he’s her man now? All Will wanted was to get Martin in the same room so he could stack his claim on Emory. There's something about that assertiveness that gives Will and duality the other's don't have. His in the middle of assertive and passive, but he knows what he's doing and he isn't ashamed of it.

Kai is sixth in line because he can be aggressive, but he likes to do it in secret. It's not something he utilizes, and I think in a situation where the others above him might become aggressive, he might still choose to take a passive approach for reasons only he knows (or perhaps doesn't).

Rika has more aggression than Winter, but she’ll bow to any one of the others if they were to go head-to-head. I think it’s probably clear that any battle she wins, is because the other person decided it wasn’t worth the fight.

Rika

Winter

Same for Winter but I think she knows that, where as Rika honestly believes she’s dominating at times.

This was an interesting topic and I hope there's more to come! Thank you!!

-ko

#asked and answered 285 #devil's night serious stuff #devil's night series #emory scott #nikova banks #asked and answered

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mewatchingstuff · 1 year

Text

Just some thought vomit about Kit,

I fucking love her but she's a mess. Kit has so much potential that she undermines being an arrogant jerk who hates that she's not the hero of everyone's story. She's jealous of Elora Danan for being the chosen one, because Kit wants to be special herself. The quest to save Airyk is equally about proving herself to be the ultimate adventurer and swordswoman hero, the person of which legends are created from.

The latest episode (6), does a really great and subtle job of showing the duality of Kit as a character for the sake of the audience perspective. Kit feels sorrow about not having her dad and feels the sting of his abandonment every step of the way. You truly feel for her hurt but at the same time it's being made explicitly and abundantly clear that her father didn't abandon his family FOR Elora Danan. Madmartigan was sent to find a way to protect EVERYONE from the darkness. He was sent on a hero's quest because of the Crone not because of Elora Danan. However, Kit refuses to acknowledge that because it will force her to call into question and reign in her own arrogance. As much as Kit is hurt by not having her father around, she also fueled her own hurt by not accepting the truth -even when she only had a small piece of a larger version. Episode 6, shows us that Kit is eager to believe what she wants instead of what she knows. She's quick to believe Allagash because he feeds into her own idolization of her father and gives her an out of "he was betrayed and trapped. He didn't really choose someone else over her" instead of forcing her to accept that her father went on a dangerous journey to help save everyone and may not return.

Boorman called it in the first episode, Kit would rather believe her father abandoned her because she can hate him and Elora Danan instead of accepting that his leaving was not solely about her but about something greater than herself. Kit can be angry with her father choosing a single person over her but she can't be mad at him for choosing a kingdom, or the world above her. Because she would then need to acknowledge that she doesn't like being looked nor chosen over for ANY reason. Kit's biggest fault is that she can't accept that it is just not about her. At all.

I also love that this constantly brings her into conflict with Elora Danan because now there's a physical embodiment of Kit's insecurities and she's seemingly weak enough for Kit to question and even bully some. I don't think it would have mattered if Elora was already a full-fledged sorceress with unimaginable power but Kit would still be jealous and cold to her. But in these moments of conflict there's an exchange of truths -hard truths- for both Elora and Kit. They both are hurt by each other but the truth digs into them and helps them to grow in their own ways.

I greatly prefer the dynamic of Kit/Elora Danan over that of Kit/Jade in terms of character development. It's fine that Jade and Kit are in love but that love doesn't produce much when Jade still acts in servitude to her princess and Kit still acts like the boss of Jade -because she's still a princess. There's a difference between stations, of power, that makes Jade and Kit not so great with encouraging character development long-term. I mean, they're cute but that's it, imo.

However, Kit and Elora are able to avoid that pitfall even though Elora was raised as a kitchen maid in Kit's castle. Elora Danan grows in station and power in equilibrium to Kit's station as a princess, so Kit inadvertently sees Elora as a peer even when she doesn't want to. Kit doesn't give orders to Elora in the same way as Jade and Boorman. But she treats Elora like Graydon or Willow, someone she cannot truly call rank on. Which again, makes it sooo much easier for Elora and Kit to have conflict with each other - a type of conflict that forces them into reality. Jade provides Kit with comfort and familiarity, while Elora forces Kit to question and confront her insecurities and arrogance.

There's so much good stuff in their scenes together whether they're fighting or getting along. So I'm excited about the final two episodes to see which way Kit goes. If she digs deeper in her own hurt or if she finally lets go and grows up.

#kit tanthalos #willow disney+#long ass post #random incoherent thoughts #as always it's subject to change with new information #willow

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wags-confessions · 2 years

Note

Not to make stuff too serious, but does anyone else find the stereotypical wag look and Instagram feed a bit bleek. A lot of these girls are in their early 20s doing fillers (that do not have a lot of medical research regarding long term effects) and permanent cosmetic work to their faces and bodies to fit a mold to get a rich guy. Also, I feel like the sexy Instagram feed is something that’s kind of a double edged sword, Emily Ratajkowski actually wrote in her book about the true cost of self objectification and it’s limits in terms of true empowerment. She actually called the influencer system an exploitative system and “a value system that revolves around men and their desire”. To me, I feel like the reason seeing a ton of wags who look a lot with the same feed of booty pics and designer bags makes me wish things were different is because it makes me sad. There’s only so much power you can have when the system is based off of male desire and consumerism. Here’s a quote from her book, “my early twenties, it had never occurred to me that the women who gained their power from beauty were indebted to the men whose desire granted them that power in the first place. Those men were the ones in control, not the women the world fawned over. Facing the reality of the dynamics at play would have meant admitting how limited my power really was—how limited any woman’s power is when she survives and even succeeds in the world as a thing to be looked at.” I think the desire to see wags who aren’t commodified as just a pretty face comes from the desire to see the players be different than the typical horny boy on IG. With fanfiction, IG, YouTube, etc. I think fan girls get the idea that they know the player and become disappointed when it’s clear he’s fine playing into this system of power and objectification. There’s also underlying resentment to what type of woman is able to commodify her beauty, which creates this toxic storm of thinking “he can do much better she’s just a gold digger,” when in reality it’s more like a capitalistic arrangement in which beauty is used as a commodity for status and in exchange wealth and a certain lifestyle is given. It’s sad for both parties and I really hope people can have more deep convos about how misogyny fucks over everybody. We all deserve to be valued for more than our bodies, beauty, money, etc.

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

Quizzes

Synopsis: you and Tom take a Buzzfeed quiz

Masterlist

“Hi I’m Tom Holland.” Tom smiled at the camera.

“And I’m Y/n L/n.” You greeted. “And today were taking some Marvel quizzes with Buzzfeed.”

“Are you ready, darling?” He asked you as he moved the laptop in between you.

“I’m ready to beat you.” You nodded.

“Is this a competition?” He asked the people behind the camera.

“It is now.” You stated. “Read the first question.”

“Which stone would you want power of?” Tom read off the screen. “I’m not gonna read the names of the stones because I don’t feel like embarrassing myself this early in the day.”

“I don’t actually know what any of them do.” You realized. “Do you know what they do?”

“The tesseract is a cube.” Tom said confidently.

“Yes, but that’s not an action.”

“Then I have no idea what any of them do.” He mumbled. You laughed at him and leaned your elbow on the back of his chair.

“Me either. This is why we both died in Infinity War.” You joked.

“Stop.” He playfully pushed you. “I think the reality stone would be cool because remember the fight between Doctor Strange and Thanos with all the pretty butterflies? We could just do that everyday and, you know, have world peace.”

“You’re right. We’re gonna go with reality stone.” You said to the camera as you clicked that answer.

“Next question.” Tom rubbed his hands together. “Which Disney character would you want on the Avengers?”

“Sorcerer Mickey.” You pointed to the picture of Mickey in his blue wizard hat. “Imagine getting tag teamed by a bunch of adults and a rat.”

“I’ve never seen the movie with this Mickey.” Tom realized. “I don’t remember this outfit.”

“I think it’s called Anastasia.” You told him.

“No, that’s a Broadway show.” Tom shook his head. “This is called Euthanasia.”

“It’s called Fantasia.” Someone behind the camera told you, making you and Tom exchange a knowing look.

“Oh.” You laughed. “I’m too embarrassed to pick sorcerer Mickey now so let’s go with the Genie. I think magic would be useful.”

“Genie.” Tom repeated as he clicked on it. “Next. Which DC character could defeat Thanos?”

“Let’s see them defeat the box office first.” You mumbled under your breath.

“You can’t say that.” Tom laughed in shock.

“But I did.” You shrugged. “What are they gonna do about it? They can’t even CGI a mustache.”

“Okay.” Toms laughed died down. “Next question. How would your closest friends describe you?”

“I don’t know.” You thought about it. “How would you describe me?”

“Beautiful.” Tom said simply.

“Fair enough.” You laughed shyly. “I mean, fair enough.”

“Caring, loyal, creative, funny, kind, successful.” Tom read off the options. “I mean, you’re all of these things. But when I think of you…”

Tom stopped in the middle of his sentence as a wide smile broke out on his face.

“Why are you smiling?” You asked him.

“Because I’m thinking of you.” He told you.

“Aw. Is disgusting an option?” You asked sweetly.

“Shut up.” He pushed you again. “I’m choosing funny.”

“Good choice.” You nodded and went to the nest question.

“Which dynamic duo is your favorite?” Tom read off the screen.

“I was thinking Thor and Loki.” You decided after surveying the options.

“Me too.” Tom agreed. “But I don’t really know what dynamic means, if I’m honest.”

“Me either.” You realized. “Let’s just move on. Which weird or unconventional superpower would you want to possess?”

“I think to read and instantly memorize.” Tom answered. “That would help with scripts.”

“When I worked in retail, costumers would have to punch in their social security number if they forgot their store card and I would see it on my screen.” You told Tom with a coy smile.

“Oh?” He laughed in confusion.

“I could commit in with theft in bulk.” You stated. “I’d just memorize all their social security numbers without even trying.”

“Oh my God.” He groaned and went to the next question.

“Who’s origin story is your personal favorite?” You read out loud.

“The way that neither of us are listed as an option.” Tom mumbled under his breath when he saw the choices.

“Your origin wasn’t even in your movie.” You laughed. “They jumped right in and said y’all know the drill. Dead uncle, no more glasses, and instant abs.”

“I’m torn because Steven Strange’s is about healing and putting yourself back together and Steve Rogers is about perseverance and determination.” Tom sighed as he tried to decide.

“And being skinny.” You winked at the camera.

“I’m also leaning towards Carol Danvers because women.” Tom ignored you.

“I’m gonna pick Steve because his story is sweet.” You decided and clicked on the option.

“And finally, what would you say is your personal character flaw?”

“I don’t know. I’m perfect.” Tom said smugly.

“Is being a massive liar an option?” You asked the camera crew.

“Leave me alone.” He nudged your side. “I would say reckless. Between the two of us, there are four brain cells and two of them are playing Uno.”

“I agree.” You chuckled. “Pick that one.”

Tom clicked the option and it brought you to the end of the quiz.

“We made it! We survived!” You cheered as you turned to high five him. Tom high fived both your hands and before slinging an arm around your shoulder.

“Thank you for having us Buzzfeed.” He said into the camera. “I haven’t been Y/n L/n.”

“And I haven’t been Tom Holland.” You smiled. “Until next time.”

Tag List 🏷

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@foreverxholland @lavender-writer @michaela072796 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101 @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah @kickingn-ames @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff @cookiemonstermusic258

@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey @big-galaxy-chaos @pandaxnienke @theincredibledeadlyviper @thestylestour @officialsimppage @mrvelscaptains @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours @okkulta @parkerlovebot @jungkxxkk @friendlyneighborhood-mendes @whatthefuckimbisexual @olixerwxxd @starkbrain @creatorofthegalaxy @f-hollands @ilovefrogs1000 @itstaskeen @itmatteredatthetime @wrendermeuseless @amazinggracy @iprobablyshipit91 @magicalxdaydream @whereismytelephone @theonly1outof-a-billion @leilanixx @namoreno @bi-lmg @dracoswhore007 @tomhollandloml @avengers-hamiltrash @sunshinepeterparkr @gh0stgurl @so-very-asleep @veryholland @white-wolf1940 @spideycheles @firwproof @fanficaddict13125 @pinklxmonade @thebestqueenoftheworld @nowayhomeparker @willowestelle @imobsessedzs @spideyspeaches @bookfrog242 @hihiweezing @mathletemadison @chipot-lol @mackenziejanine @dhtomholland @peterstommy @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr @aayaissaa @loudthoughts-softspoken @starknik22 @hallecarey1 @tom-holland-is-bae @adayasgeorgia

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland blurb #tom holland fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #tom holland x you

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gale-gentlepenguin · 3 years

Text

Paris was a warzone.

Shadowmoth's latest plan had torn Paris asunder.

Shadowmoth had once again found a way to utilize his powers in a far more disastrous manner.

Akumatized villains and Sentimonsters laid waste to Paris. The events of heroes day seemed mild in comparison.

The all powerful Scarlet Shadowmoth had put into action his most devastating plan.

Even the guardians that Su Han had called for reinforcements were akumatized and turned into soldiers for the diabolical villain.

However, Ladybug and her chosen heroes were quick to act. Shadowmoth did pull a few new tricks, such as making sure Rena Rouge had to face her akumatized family, including sentimonsters created from emotions resulting from her secrecy. Even Nino was utilized by the evil villain.

But despite all of that, Scarlet Shadowmoth had lost his special powers. And just like before, He stood face to face with ladybug and her partner.

"Its over Shadowmoth, your plan failed." Ladybug exclaimed with confidence. The red clad heroine was sure of herself. It was a tough battle, but Shadowmoth had no where else to go.

"Is that so?" Shadowmoth asked, his expression showing no signs of fear, panic or nervousness. Despite the situation, he was eerily calm.

"Check the math Shadowmoth, You don't have anymore sentimonsters or akuma's left to defend you. Meanwhile, Ladybug and I are up here ready to kick your feathery butt. Even if you try to escape there are dozens of heroes and guardians ready to take you down." The fox heroine next to Ladybug exclaimed.

"I suppose that is a fair point Rena Rouge. But I am not worried in the slightest by either of you or your little hero army." Shadowmoth dismissed.

"It doesn't matter how you feel, because this is the end." Ladybug retorted.

"Im going to enjoy prying those miraculous off of you after what you did to my family." Rena rouge cracked her knuckles, as she got into a fighting stance.

"Before we start, I must commend you Alya. You really adjusted well to being a miraculous user. You perfectly slid into your role as Ladybug's new partner."

The two teens stared at Shadowmoth in confusion. Why was the villain of Paris giving Rena Rouge high regards? It made little sense.

"What are you saying Shadowmoth?" Rena Rouge squinted at the villain, as if trying to peer into his mind to see what he is trying to hide.

"I am simply giving you a compliment. Though I am not surprised that Ladybug would have chosen you to be her new partner. You are far more competent then most. You did discover quite a lot about the miraculous even before she accepted you into the fold." Shadowmoth continued.

"Why do you keep saying new partner?" Ladybug questioned.

Shadowmoth grinned at the comment.

"Simply stating the facts. Why else would she be here at your side instead of someone else."

Ladybug's eyes went wide.

She had been so concerned with everything going on, she didn't even realize it.

Her confusion shifted to rage.

"What did you do to Chat noir?!"

Shadowmoth started to laugh.

"So you finally noticed. I must admit, I had sensed the divide growing between you and Chat noir for sometime, but it wasn't until Rena Rouge became more crucial did I see the true depths of it. His self doubt, his inadequacy, his low self esteem, and of course his jealousy of Rena Rouge. He couldn't exactly tell what was going on but he sure did feel the dynamic shift between you and him." Shadowmoth taunted.

"Answer me Shadowmoth!" Ladybug roared.

She charged at Shadowmoth only to get kicked back.

"I wasn't finished." Shadowmoth hissed. "Let me savor my moment."

Ladybug growled and got up, spinning her yo-yo she continued attacking. Shadowmoth continued to speak as she attacked.

"Though I admit he hid it well, he found a way to suppress those powerful negative emotions, never letting them stay for too long. I could never lock onto them. It was as if he was used to feeling miserable all the time. He likely hid it out of fear that you could replace him. You are the one in charge after all." Shadowmoth continued as he dodged ladybug attacks before kicking her back again.

Rena Rouge jumped in to try and fight with Ladybug but her attacks were equally as fruitless.

"So I needed something to push him over the edge. So a special sentimonster was created, one to trap him in the catacombs of Paris. Stuck in an ever shifting living maze. Yet he could see everything that was happening above. He could see the city being attacked, he could see you fighting and he could see how 'Perfectly' you saved the day without him."

Ladybug and Rena Rouge stopped attacking.

"Wait... you are making it sound like all of this was..."

"Exactly how I planned it. And the akuma I had in my staff which you broke and flung off the the tower minutes ago had made contact, but he has been fighting it for sometime, he is quite stubborn. "

A bluish purple outline appears over Shadowmoth's mask.

"Well that was perfect timing."

"No..." Ladybug muttered in horror.

" Chat Blanc! I give you the power of infinite destruction, to destroy anything and everything that causes you pain. In exchange, you will bring me Ladybug's miraculous."

It was quiet after Shadowmoth finished his speech. It was as if the world had stopped. But that silence was short-lived. A blast of white light bursted from beneath the city, creating a pillar of light into the Parisian sky.

A white figure jumped out of the creator once the light pillar had dissipated.

He started rushing to the well known French monument.

The guardians on the ground tried to stop him, but it was no use, he charged through like they were nothing more than insects against a windshield.

He used his staff and arrived on the floor the heroes and shadow moth were standing on.

"Excellent timing Chat Blanc."

Rena Rouge looked at the Cat as it stood there, next to Shadowmoth, silently watching them, expressionless.

"Ladybug we might need a lucky charm here" Rena Rouge said while not looking away from the cat.

"It happened again..." Ladybug muttered in horror. Her scars from her previous encounter with chat blanc had not faded. She still had vivid nightmares of the akuma cat. And right now, that nightmare was very much alive.

"Now Chat Blanc. Take the miraculous!"

"I shall."

Shadowmoth Laughed only to suddenly de-transform into Gabriel Agreste, right in front of the two heroes.

Chat Blanc had snatched both miraculous from him, and was looking at the villain with sharp eyes.

Rena Rouge's jaw dropped.

"Chat Blanc! How dare you disobey me! I am your..."

"You are nothing..."

Chat blanc cataclysmed the man before he finished his sentence.

"... but a failure of a father."

He turned his attention to Ladybug and Rena Rouge.

"Wow... that was excessive... But no worries. Just pass ladybug the akumatized item and we can undo all the damage done today." Rena Rouge said as she composed herself.

Chat Blanc raised his hand in the air.

"Cataclysm."

A ball of white light formed in his palm and began growing.

Ladybug snapped back to reality as the gravity of the situation became real.

"Chaton stop! You can't destroy everything! This isn't you!"

"Destroy Akuma Charms" He spoke

little balls of energy bursted out from the large cataclysm. The tiny energy balls located and destroyed every anti akuma charm Ladybug had ever created.

After that task was finished. Chat blanc lowered his hand, and a Cheshire grin appeared on his face.

"So I finally have your attention."

_____________________________________________________________

(Based a bit off this post)

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indianamoonshine · 3 years

Text

Strawberry | Chapter 13 | Common Tongue

Summary: This chapter is titled after a Hozier song. Take that as you will.

Rating: M. If I see anyone minor interacting with this or hear of anyone reading it, I will block your ass.

TAG LIST: @t3a-bag @lumimon47 @dodgerandevans @hallway5 @dancingwiththeplanets @steeevienicks @orneryscandallousandevil @ficthots @gaiusfrakkinbaltar @reginagina-blog1 @loveme-tenderly @lastphoenixrising @rattlemyb0nes @rebellou @alljusthumans @gaiuswrites @lovecatsnotpeople @literallydontlook

“I’m a virgin,” you had said to him one night.

It meant nothing.

It meant nothing because, to him, you were the same with or without having slept with someone. Din knew that - had you chose him - it would be an honor. He would think no differently of you either way, and that even if the two of you never had sex, he was glad to have met you.

Now he thinks he may be addicted.

Part of him really wishes that you hadn’t gone this far; that the innocence would have lasted until whenever it was that he forced to leave. Because now he was in over his fucking head.

Behind the shed, you’d grabbed his hand and palmed yourself against the cotton of your underwear. The song of cicadas did a humbling job of masking your little pants or the way you whimpered beneath him. And, sure, Din did everything in his power to break traditional norms, but he wasn’t going to fuck you behind a shed for the first time. His heart broke when he separated himself from you and you whined underneath your breath in protest.

“Come on,” he huffed, lungs attempting to keep up. “Let’s go.”

Three minutes.

That’s how long it took to run from the main house to the cabin. Three goddamned minutes was a record. You don’t recall running that fast since becoming an adult. If your high school gym teacher has witnessed the velocity in which you just sprinted, she’d be amazed.

It was good old fashioned motivation.

Fortunately, Din’s barely taken his hands off of you so he managed to catch your clumsy ass when you tripped over the lip of the front door. The two of you had chuckled against the other before he asked, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you giggle. You place a hand upon your cheek in feign distress. “But I think I may need to lay down…”

Your tone, which is laced with suggestive demure, has Din raising a brow. “Oh yeah?” he growls.

You nod sweetly, lips still pressed against his. “Mm hm.”

You’re so goddamn beautiful.

When he presses you against the plushness of the sheets, he admires the way your hair fans about you and frames your face. Your cheeks are flushed and your lips plump from his kiss, the natural pout of them more pronounced now that he’s bitten and sucked at the flesh. The brilliance of your skin glows beneath the yellow light, neck joining the expanse of your bust which heaves with endurance. He kisses down your pulse point until he reaches the neck of his t-shirt.

His t-shirt.

“Can I?” he whispers against the hollow of your neck, fingering the edge of the fabric.

“Yes.”

You’ve never been this exposed to anyone other than the occasional friend (when changing) or your sisters (also when changing). It’s been so long since you’ve gone outside of yourself - into the very thick of reality - so when he asked if he could reveal you to it, the urgent “yes” surprised yourself.

Still - it’s another kind of anxiety; not violent, but in the way. When he’s stripped the shirt from your body - carefully, as though he were unwrapping a priceless antique - it’s a natural instinct to cover yourself, confident of the way you weren’t.

“Take all the time you need,” he whispers against the flesh of your neck. “I’m a patient man.”

It should’ve been enough and maybe in an alternate universe it was. Maybe that version of you threw all misogynistic beauty standards out the window into the night, but in this present day-in-age, you took a minute to go over the mental checklist. What if you weren’t to his standards? What was the situation like down there? What would you do if he wasn’t all that you decided him to be?

How long would it take to heal from that?

Before your mother died she took your hand and made you promise: I will do everything I can to feel joy, as fleeting as it may be. There are lessons to be learned. She’d made you chant it in a monkish way, as though preforming a ceremony in the sterility of a hospital room strung with cheap tinsel and a sad, plastic tree at her bedside. You’d understood what she meant then like the way a student might understand the components of Ancient Greek; not until it is utilized can its full potential make any sense at all.

The philosophers - and your mother - be onto something.

Something like a muffled version of his name slips lazily through your lips. And while it’s dissected, pulled apart with a lazy and tense breath, it’s the first time his name has sounded poetic. Din never thought of himself this way; that his person could ever inspire such an organic response as the way you unwound beneath him. He’s laid with women before - three, he thinks - but he’s not positive he’s ever experienced a woman before.

Xian was good at what she did and she knew it; Din wasn’t oblivious to that but it lacked a certain something. The other times his body has been weaved together with another’s was faceless; just hookups he’s tried so desperately to forget. Hazy nights in which he woke up to in the morning, their backs to him, and identity indistinguishable. Eventually he just stopped trying.

It wasn’t until now with your fingers clutching at his hair that he realized how the act - the very dance itself - could be purifying. How it could wash away the very worst of similar experiences and how it made something that always felt cheap now priceless. The body is a temple, his elders would always say, and it never made any sense to him. The body is a fortress made to withstand hurricanes and torpedos. It was no place to kneel, to worship, to inspire anything other than sheer refuge.

How ironic, as kneeling was the very thing he was doing now.

Irony wasn’t the word. Fateful, he supposes, as he tastes the fruit that’s always been so forbidden to him. Your thighs clench around his head and the fingers that have been stroking his hair grip the sheets, white knuckling the starched weave, until a gasp is caught in your throat. And then there is nothing but the pressure of ignition until it crumbles around you, fizzing the air with something akin to champagne bubbles.

There is no nasally whine that follows afterwards like there always had been before you. No wild “yes!” that pollutes the air. Just the instability of a weakened chest, the grasping at air, and the delicious feel of your hand enveloping his after having pulled it from your sex.

You weren’t a stranger to penetration though this was was with exceptions; no one had ever done anything to you with foreign or, well, domestic objects. At the age of eighteen, your friends at the time had dragged you to the building on the east end of town that never officially existed until legality said that it did. La Boudoir Rouge was the place ‘vodka aunts’ went to cure the blues, bought mysterious items, and then hid the pink bags in the back of their closets.

So, yes; sex was a foreign exchange policy you’ve never found yourself involved in, but you knew the dynamics. You’d bought equipment and even enjoyed it more than you’d initially expected. Penetration wasn’t at all strange to you.

This made it easier, you think, as Din finally slides in. There was a stretch of course, and it took you a moment to get comfortable enough to brave any movement. Din drops his forehead upon yours, letting out a strangled breath through his nose, as you struggle to come to terms with the size. He’d given off an energy but…

“It’s so big,” you gasp once he reaches the spongey part of you. It feels stupid, it falls short on a botched intake of breath, but it’s the truth.

Din’s composing himself, silent in his endeavor to mold himself within you. His arms are pressed on either side of you, body flush against yours with his pelvis meeting your pubic bone. There’s another moment of silence before he kisses at your temple.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

A smile graces your lips, though your eyes are clenched. “That’s an understatement.”

The pace is fast, sweat inspiring. It drips down your neck until it falls in the valley of your breasts and Din wants so badly to lick it from your skin, but he’s too distracted by the way you clench around him. It’s ironclad - it’s the best goddamn pussy he’s ever had.

He wants to tell you that but he’s unsure of how you’d react. You’ve been letting out delicious gasps and moans reaching an octave you’d never reach sober, but not you’re coherently vocal enough for him to say it outright.

And then you breathe it in a pathetic whine: “It’s yours, Din. It’s yours.”

He almost stops, but his body is hellbent on seeing this through. Whatever the fuck this was; a spiritual experience maybe. Perhaps he’d died after the last mission - broken and buried underneath mounds of dirt - and now rests in paradise where he fucks his way through eternity.

A raw, animalistic response possesses him, the fistful of flesh from your hips is replaced by the swell of you cheeks. He embraces you softly, but sternly enough to incite a whimper.

“What was that, chica bonita, huh?”

You throw your head back as he slams his hips against yours with more force, the excitement conjuring a great wave of adrenaline coursing through his veins. You try to speak but it fails to materialize.

He was balls deep and you were still shy by your interjection.

“What’s mine, sweet girl?” he whispers, mouth tickling along your collarbones. The contrast of gentle words and barbaric thrusts is something he’s never experienced during sex. Ever.

You let out one more mouthwatering whine before saying: “My pussy is yours, Din. Take it. Please, please…”

Suffice to say, that’s what does it. The two of you cum at the same time, like a synchronized dance, clutching one another so tightly it leaves red ribbons. Your fingernails had dug into his forearms and his at your waist in which his hands wrapped around. He lets out a deep, broken growl as you whimper, shaking like a leaf, and he pulls out just in time to paint your belly with pearlescent threads.

He collapses on top of you, knocking the wind from your fragile body. You’re absolute jelly beneath him, crumbled into bits, and would never be the same. Let’s stay here forever, you want to tell him.

Din presses his face into the hollow of your neck, listening to the rapid pulse beneath flushed and thin skin. Then he kisses the blood flow beneath once, twice. “My gorgeous girl…”

Stay with me. Stay with me.

You wrap your arms - which have settled from the convulsions - around his neck and hug him tightly against you.

Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me.

#din djarin x reader #din x reader #strawberryfic #mando x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din x y/n #din x you #mando x y/n #mando x you

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thecrownnet · 3 years

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Congratulations to Adriano Goldman , ASC, BSC, ABC, Director Of Photography, for his Creative Arts Emmy win OUTSTANDING CINEMATOGRAPHY FOR A SINGLE-CAMERA SERIES (ONE HOUR) for season 4 episode 3 ‘Fairytale’ on September 11, 2021. Here are his insights on filming the episode with director Benjamin Caron.

‘The Crown’ Used Lighting and Composition to Trap Its Characters Inside a ‘Fairytale’

Director Benjamin Caron and cinematographer Adriano Goldman discuss how they destroyed Diana and Charles’ marriage before it even began.

Behind the Scenes of “The Crown” Season 4, Episode 3 Photo: Netflix

Over “The Crown’s” four seasons, the halls of Buckingham Palace have become familiar visual signifiers for both the grandeur and the pressure placed upon the royal family. But in the third episode of this most recent season, “Fairytale,” cinematographer Adriano Goldman and director Benjamin Caron stretched the limits of the show’s visual language to create — and then to destroy — Princess Diana’s (Emma Corrin) fairytale fantasies.

Much of the episode is given over to Diana slowly realizing that, like many princesses stuck in a castle before her, she has fallen into a trap. But Goldman and Caron opened up the ways they shoot their Buckingham Palace sets to show how the demands of the Crown consume everyone on the eve of the fateful marriage.

They force the jaws of the trap open wide with a pre-credits sequence of Diana’s night out with her friends after Charles (Josh O’Connor) proposes to her. The scene is a departure in every sense, not just to the swank ’80s members’ club that Diana frequents.

“You try to deliver something that is more romantic, a little bit more colorful, fun to start,” Goldman said of the sequence in an interview with IndieWire. “We wanted to not change the style too much, but there should be a transition from a very colorful pre-title sequence, a very interesting and more romantic beginning.”

That romance is on full display, most noticeably in the brighter, guadier colors of the club and much warmer tones of Diana’s Earl’s Court flat. But Goldman’s camera also interposes itself almost as a fourth (slightly intoxicated) friend, swinging around inside the girls’ cab to get a look at both Diana and Buckingham Palace, or flinging itself down onto the bed with the girls at the end of the night. The look of the sequence stands in contrast to the stately shots and slow tracks which are the show’s normal rhythm for everyone in the royal family. Well, for everyone in the royal family except maybe Princess Margaret (Helena Bonham-Carter), who gets to dance by a pool every now and again.

“We really considered how we could reverse [that fairytale opening] and be very present with her, and [how we could] make her feel young, actually. Part of this is she’s a young girl going into the palace,” Caron said.

Caron and Goldman gave the audience several visual signifiers that are easy to clock in this sequence, as well as Diana’s goodbyes to her friends that follows: the gold and neon hues of the night out, the warm, eye-level close-ups of Diana dancing in the club, and a signature spiral staircase Diana descends to begin her life as a princess.

Over the course of the episode, these colors will fade. The close-ups inch slightly above Diana’s eyeline, so that it feels like the camera, along with the rest of the Royals, is looking down on her. And when a spiral staircase reappears, it will lead to Diana’s lowest point.

“The Crown” Season 4, Ep. 3 “The Fairytale” Screenshot

With Diana ushered inside Buckingham Palace to shield her from the press in the run-up to her and Charles’ wedding, Caron and Goldman emphasized how small and vulnerable Diana looks inside the palace walls. The opening of “Fairytale” had a long shot of the club, and Diana fit snugly within it. Once inside Buckingham Palace, the negative space often overwhelms Diana, and the camera backs away to show just how alone she truly is, perhaps best exemplified in the scene of her grandmother (Georgie Glen) physically tying her up while instructing her in how to speak like a royal.

Caron and Goldman deliberately call back to the romance of the opening to twist the knife, having Diana dance ballet inside the palace and then try to break out of the regimented structure of it as the pressure on her mounts. “I remember sort of holding the frame and I remember the camera operator was trying to follow us, but [I said no,] just hold the frame static and let her move in and around it,” Caron said. “So it really felt like someone trying to break out [of] somewhere.”

But of course, the camera never does let her leave the frame. Unlike the quick, fun cuts of Diana dancing in the club, there is no pressure release here. There is nowhere for Diana to go.

“The Crown” Season 4, Ep. 3 “The Fairytale” Screenshot

Caron wanted to use visual features that would feel right at home in a Disney princess story to their most punishing effect and perhaps the most powerful one of these motifs reoccurs when “The Crown” has Diana descend another spiral staircase. “[Ben] was very specific about this spiral because she’s going down on a spiral emotionally,” Goldman said of the shot that leads Diana down to the kitchen, a moment of late night desperation that kicks off her eating disorder. “He didn’t want to follow her on the steps, like on a steadicam. He wanted [the camera to be] facing down and going down with her to the very bottom of her feelings and her emotions.”

Caron described it as going to the “bottom of a well,” once Diana enters the kitchens and becomes enveloped in darkness — except for the fluorescent blues of the refrigerator lights, which makes the space feel like a morgue. This strong use of color, like all the changes in the episode, is grounded in the reality of whatever space Diana finds herself in. But the emotion and, indeed, the foreshadowing that Caron and Goldman are able to imbue those spaces with give Diana’s spiral real visual potency and a visceral sadness.

“The Crown” Season 4, Ep. 3 “The Fairytale” Screenshot

What is so thrilling about “Fairytale” is that it spares no one. Two striking scenes toward the end of the episode don’t have Diana in them at all, and yet push the series’ visual language to show how the palace and this marriage will swallow the characters who have been there all along.

In the first of these, Margaret tries to persuade Elizabeth, the Queen Mother (Marion Bailey), and Philip (Tobias Menzies) to call off the wedding. Caron wanted the scene to have a “conspiratorial, almost a Jacobian feel” to highlight the cold, businesslike calculations these four people are making for the happiness of two others.

“I remember saying to Adriano,’no no no, let’s go darker,” Caron said of this sequence and the next one. Goldman also recalled the desire to push the scene even further visually, lighting characters at harsh, dynamic angles or in almost complete shadow, so that the scene would feel spiritually closer to “The Godfather” than to the show’s usual style. The comparison is apt, given the mahogany browns and greens of the sitting room and the firelight that Goldman and Caron used to emphasize shadows falling into the crags on the characters’ faces. Vito Corleone could easily be sitting in a corner of one of those frames.

“The Crown” Season 4, Ep. 3 “The Fairytale” Screenshot

The next scene — when Elizabeth goes to find Charles and offer him a final few words on his marriage — Caron and Goldman viewed as a way to visually crystalize their relationship and how it is marred by their obligations to the monarchy. “Wouldn’t it be painful if you had Charles looking out the window and he felt the reflections of the fireworks and the noise and the celebrations outside?” Caron said about how he started conceiving of the blocking and framing of the exchange between mother and son. Each cinematic choice builds from a sense of what would be more painful, what would put more strain on the relationship.

“The Crown” Season 4, Ep. 3 “The Fairytale” Screenshot

The filmmakers created this visual strain between Queen and Crown Prince not just by keeping them at opposite sides in the composition, but by keeping one of the pair always just out of focus in the shots with the two of them — they can’t even occupy the same level of detail in the frame. Color plays a role, too, with bright blues and reds from the fireworks, reflections of the Union Jack, always being part of the light through which the audience sees the resigned sadness on Colman’s face and the abject misery on O’Connor’s. Goldman said this is the scene where he realizes he will never escape the system of the monarchy. “He realizes it’s too late. It’s a trap. He’s been trapped.”

“It always comes back to the Crown,” Caron said, and it is really from the perspective of the Crown itself that we watch the characters prepare to head to church on the day of the wedding. When the audience finally sees Diana in her dress, she faces away from the camera and moves into that oppressive cavernous space which has put so much pressure on her throughout the episode. It’s a slow, almost funereal march toward the fate the audience already knows awaits her. Charles, on the other hand, gets the close-up this time. But the camera, with equal grimness, tracks slightly down and in, so that his face begins to loom over the frame, making him look monstrous.

“The Crown” Season 4, Ep. 3 “The Fairytale” Screenshot

Of course by now, the visual choices that Caron and Goldman made for “Fairytale” have taught the viewer that there is another monster, a much more powerful one, looming over the episode’s final frame: The Crown is the monster that always gets you in the end.

#emma corrin #josh o'connor #princess diana #the crown netflix #the crown #emmy awards 2021 #cinematography #adriano goldman #the crown season 4 #thecrownnet

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nothing-more-than-hot-leaf-juice · 4 years

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Hi fren! Been following ur blog for a while and honestly I love it! I was wondering if I can get ur thoughts on something :)) remember in sozins comet when Iroh refused to fight ozai becuz “history will see it as more violence, a brother killing a brother to gain power” but then cue to Azula and Zuko who are fighting for the throne and it’s fine?? with them?? doesn’t that count as more violence as well? Thank if you ever come across this :D

Okay, first off, I think it needs to be clarified what Iroh actually said in that scene in regards to sending Zuko to defeat Azula because the two situations are very different and everyone involved knew that. The exchange went as such:

Zuko: Uncle, you’re the only person other than the Avatar who can possibly defeat the fatherlord.... we need you to come with us.

Iroh: No Zuko, it won’t turn out well.

Zuko: You can beat him. And we’ll be there to help.

Iroh: Even if I did defeat Ozai, and I don’t know that I could, it would be the wrong way to end the war. History would see it as more senseless violence: a brother killing a brother to gain power. The only way for this war to end peacefully is if the Avatar defeats the Firelord.

(dialogue, etc.)

Iroh: Zuko, you must return to the Fire Nation, so that when the Firelord falls, you can assume the throne and restore peace and order. But Azula will be there waiting for you.

When I see the argument that Iroh sending Zuko after Azula was hypocritical, I think it ignores the reality of the situation and the pragmatic approach. Because Iroh was absolutely correct throughout this whole exchange. Here were the facts as of this point:

1. Iroh and Zuko were declared traitors and could not legally assume the throne once Ozai was defeated, meaning Azula would assume the throne by default.

2. By this point in the series, Azula had shown at every point that she was just as enthusiastic about waging war and had shown no remorse for the suffering of the Earth Kingdom at the hands of the Fire Nation. She was particularly enthusiastic about the two major affronts against the Earth Kingdom: conquering Ba Sing Se and using Sozin’s Comet to burn down the Earth Kingdom.

3. Azula was the one who had the idea for the ‘let’s use the comet to burn down the Earth Kingdom’ plan in the first place and was proud of that plan. If Ozai was defeated, she would have used her position to go through with the plan anyway.

Realistically, this situation is in no way ideal, but the reality is that Azula did need to be stopped from assuming the throne. Make no mistake, if she had the opportunity to do so, she would have been at Ozai’s side burning down the Earth Kingdom instead of staying in the Fire Nation. She was dangerous and needed to be stopped and that was evident from her actions throughout the entire series.

And the situations of Zuko defeating Azula and Iroh defeating Ozai are completely different, mainly because it was never Zuko or Iroh’s intention for Zuko to kill Azula like everyone else was planning with Ozai. The intent with Zuko going after Azula was to stop her from being crowned, which was a thing that needed to be stopped, otherwise, the war would have continued. And Iroh was absolutely correct in his assumptions: Zuko and Katara arrived in the Fire Nation just before Azula was crowned Firelord. And in the end, as we all know, they didn’t kill her, they just removed her as a threat so Zuko could assume the throne. There is a difference between taking out an actively harmful force in a position of absolute authority (Ozai) and stopping a harmful force from taking a position of absolute authority (Azula).

There’s also the facts that 1. Iroh had his own history as a general who held siege on Ba Sing Se for 600 days, allegedly committed war crimes, and wasn’t exactly well regarded in the Earth Kingdom. 2. Like he said, a fight between Iroh and Ozai was not one that had a clear victor. Iroh was not the right person to defeat Ozai, Aang was, for many reasons. (There’s also the fact that Iroh’s arc came full circle as he freed the city he once laid siege on, but that has less to do with the pragmatic rationale behind the match ups and more to do with thematic purposes.)

And this is a thing that also bothers me. There’s an argument that Iroh failed Azula and that part of the reason she was how she was fell on him and I don’t think that’s fair. And this post by @withyoutilltheendofthecredits articulates why:

the ideas “azula was a victim of abuse who was manipulated and hurt by ozai” and “azula had a hand in a lot of trauma for zuko due to her awful treatment of him” can and should coexist

I think it’s important to keep in mind whenever we talk about Iroh, Azula, and Zuko how their dynamic was in season 2. Firstly, Iroh’s priority through this show was to keep Zuko safe. In season 1, he wasn’t so much there to actively help Zuko find Aang (and on multiple occasions seemed to work against Zuko’s mission), but rather was there to stop Zuko from making stupid decisions that would get him killed while offering emotional support and training him to be a better firebender. Does he actually want Zuko to kidnap the Avatar and return to his awful, abusive father? No. But he does want Zuko to have something that gives him hope, something that keeps him going. And Iroh’s priority is to be there to make sure this kid doesn’t do anything too reckless.

In season 2, Zuko technically no longer has his mission as he’s deemed an enemy of the Fire Nation and Iroh more explicitly works to help his nephew mentally and emotionally extricate himself from the family members that hurt him. At the beginning of the season when Zuko is excited about going home after Azula lies to them, Iroh voices his suspicion because unlike Zuko, who’s still holding onto the idea that he can win his father’s love, Iroh is able to look at the situation objectively and knows that if Zuko goes home, he’s not going to be safe and he is not going to be met with any sort of love.

Zuko: Did you listen to Azula? Father’s realized how important family is. He cares about me.

Iroh: I care about you!

And through the rest of the season, Iroh tries his best to take advantage of their new freedom by showing Zuko that he does deserve control of his own life, happiness, and unconditional love. He’s trying his best to help him through this difficult time because part of Zuko’s emotional struggle in this is reconciling with the fact that no, his father doesn’t want him, at all. When he was banished, he had the ‘if I get the Avatar I can go home’ thing to cling onto, but Iroh and everyone else knew that Ozai never actually intended for Zuko to succeed or return. So Zuko has to deal with that in season 2 and doesn’t get to that point, he still tries to capture Aang and he still joins Azula in Crossroads of Destiny because he’s not ready to let that little bit of hope that he could return home go. It isn’t until he takes a stand against Ozai with the “it was cruel and it was wrong” speech that he really discovers who he is and what he wants and the main reason he’s able to come to that conclusion is because of Iroh’s treatment of him in season 2.

In season 2, Iroh not only protects Zuko from physical harm and takes care of him in regards to sickness, food, and water, but tries to drill into his head that he didn’t deserve the treatment from his father and shouldn’t throw his life away trying to please him. That he can have and deserves a peaceful life. And Zuko keeps going down the self destructive path because he’s been convinced for so long that him proving himself to his father is more important than his personal safety or happiness. Iroh just wants him to put himself before the man that abused him. He hates it that Zuko almost gets himself killed multiple times for the sake of Ozai. There’s their talk in The Avatar Day and their fight in Lake Laogai that bring this to the forefront:

Iroh: Even if you did capture the Avatar, I’m not so sure it would solve all our problems.

Zuko: Then there is no hope at all

Iroh: No Zuko, you must never give into despair.

Iroh: And then what?! You never think these things through. This is exactly what happened when you tried to capture the Avatar at the North Pole. You had him and then you had nowhere to go.

Zuko: I would have figured something out.

Iroh: No! If his friends hadn’t found you, you would have frozen to death!

Zuko: I know my own destiny.

Iroh: Is it your own destiny? Or is it a destiny someone else has tried to force on you?

And as Iroh acts as Zuko’s protector and tries to break him away from his self destructive mentality, how does Azula fit into that? Here are the interactions between Azula, Zuko, and Iroh in season 2:

Azula trying to take Zuko and Iroh as prisoners to the Fire Nation with no remorse

Azula attempting to shoot lightning at Zuko in the first episode of season 2 and Zuko only being saved by Iroh redirecting it at the last second

Azula shooting Iroh and seriously injuring him (it could have been lighting, but I think it was just fire)

Azula trying to capture Iroh and Zuko in Ba Sing Se and succeeding

Azula manipulating Zuko into going back to Ozai

Objectively, Azula is a threat against Zuko’s safety and there’s a good chance she would have killed him in the first episode of season 2 if Iroh hadn’t stopped her. He knows exactly how dangerous she is and made the decision that he was going to do what it took to keep Zuko safe, which he did. With this exchange in Bitter Work.

This isn’t Iroh saying ‘I have no sympathy for my niece whatsoever and am choosing to ignore her’. This is Iroh saying ‘Azula has proven herself to be an objective and real threat and I need to keep Zuko safe from her.’ And he was correct. I feel like this stance is reasonable when the last two times she saw them she tried to shoot Zuko with lightning and actually shot Iroh.

And the reality of the situation is that Iroh shouldn’t have had to be the one to raise Zuko or Azula. He wasn’t their parent and he shouldn’t have had to be responsible for them. Ideally, Ozai should have been the one to do that, but that wasn’t the reality of the situation. And Iroh was faced with a choice: go with Zuko who was banished, injured, and lost, or stay with Azula who was not in a good home with a good influence, but who was still the favored, prodigy princess. He had a choice of which kid to stand behind and I think it’s fair to say that Zuko needed Iroh more when he was banished.

Ideally, there shouldn’t have been a choice for Iroh. Ideally, Iroh shouldn’t have had to raise his nephew. Ideally, Azula should have had a better parental influence who didn’t encourage her violent streak. But it was by no means an ideal situation. Azula was dangerous and remorseless and Iroh was entirely correct when he saw her rising to power and realized ‘if she isn’t stopped now, there is no telling what she’s going to do’. Because he knows exactly who raised her.

#hot leaf meta #atla #avatar the last airbender #azula #iroh #zuko #tw: abuse #the babes are asking

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

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Only in a Sitcom

Fandom: WandaVision Pairing: Darcy Lewis/Jimmy Woo Rating: T

Summary: Darcy has no idea what the hell’s going on with this WandaVision thing, but neither does Jimmy. It’s kinda fun to have somebody to binge-watch alternate reality TV with.

read ch. 1 one / 2 two / 3 three / 4 four / 5 five 6 six / 7 seven / 8 eight / 9 nine / 10 ten 11 eleven / 12 twelve / 13 thirteen / 14 fourteen 15 fifteen / 16 sixteen / 17 seventeen / 18 eighteen

this fic is now complete!

Darcy, Jimmy, and Monica have been working their way across Westview in as straight a line as possible, knocking on every door in every cute little cul-de-sac in their path. It was Jimmy who asserted they should never put their backs to a dangerous situation, but Monica who overruled that statement, pointing out that they were more likely to stay focused if they didn’t keep staring at the fight in the sky.

Darcy thinks they were both right. There’s a tingle rippling up and down the back of her neck, like she gets when she’s up in the middle of the night, spooked by shadows her anxious, overtired mind is too eager to turn into monsters, but the heebie-jeebies give her the energy to work quickly. She takes on an entire crescent on her own, readying people for a departure she’s certain they’ve been longing for. As she’s coming out the crescent’s other end, she realizes the Hex is getting brighter; the red storm clouds are being sucked back into themselves to leave a thin daylight.

Standing at the corner, she watches Jimmy and Monica emerge from the street opposite. Darcy jogs over, wincing. Wanda could’ve put orthotics in these Escape Artist boots. They’re blistering her feet.

“This has to be a good sign, right?” she asks, motioning to the calm skies.

“Look,” Monica instructs. She jerks her chin and Darcy and Jimmy follow her line of sight to see Wanda, Vision, and the twins coming up the main road.

Darcy gasps.

Wanda’s gone from bumming-around-the-house sweats to battle-ready chic. With her armour-like bodice, gloves that leave those magic fingers free, and an usually-shaped tiara framing her forehead, she’s both intimidating and otherworldly. But she’s smiling. Darcy would call it a sad smile and it hurts her heart to see it, even though she doesn’t understand.

As Wanda passes them with her hand held fast in Vision’s, she turns her head to nod at Monica. It’s in her eyes too, the same thing that’s in her smile. Something tired but present. Gone are the comedically darting glances of her persona as the bumbling new girl in town and the frazzled energy of a mom trying to corral a couple of superkids. It looks like she’s finally letting go of the illusion/delusion.

“Can we do anything for her?” Jimmy asks as the family continues on down the middle of the street.

“No,” Monica says. “The rest is for Wanda to do on her own.”

“We might as well head back towards the center of town,” Darcy says. “We don’t need to waste time at the edges. They’ll be the first to wake up.”

She points to where the Hex is shimmering on the horizon. The seconds pass and the shimmer looks messier, a weave of overlapping wires fritzing with energy. The edge is coming closer, but unlike when Wanda pushed the boundary farther, closing it around Darcy and her S.W.O.R.D. nemeses, this isn’t menacing. Wanda’s powers are no longer looking to consume more territory, they’re contracting. Faster than the incoming wave of the walls, the Hex goes dark. The red glow is intensely magical in the sudden night.

The three of them fan out, hitting the houses in their new route, and make their way back to the town square. They’ve been telling everyone to remain in their homes until they receive further instructions to evacuate, but Darcy spots a figure on the sidewalk by the department story. It’s Agnes, except… not as they saw her lately. No wild hair or billowing, layered outfit. No levitation. Darcy’s wary in the face of the woman who appears so much like her former self, the one supposedly under Wanda’s control. This Agnes has a damn Peter Pan collar poking out of her sweater! She couldn’t look much less threatening.

“What do you think?” she asks Monica when she joins her.

“I don’t know.” Monica peers across the street at Agnes in the dark and when Agnes notices, she flashes a wide smile.

“Well, maybe we should— Hey, no, wait!”

But the Captain strides across to meet Agnes. Darcy almost follows in her idol’s wake, but she quickly remembers that Monica has powers to protect herself that far exceed the right hook Darcy used to drop Agent Handcuffs. Whatever Agnes’s deal is, Darcy knows she’s an entirely different kind of beast from an asshole S.W.O.R.D. agent.

“What’s going on there?” Jimmy wonders, coming up beside her.

Thanks to the stress of trying to speak to as many citizens as possible in a short amount of time, including looking dozens of people still under mind control in the eye and aching for their lack of agency, the fear of and for Wanda as she witnessed that clash in the sky, and, really, the car crash that’s still pretty recent, Darcy reacts to her boyfriend’s presence by wrapping her arms around him tightly. With his tie pressed to her cheek, she feels him hug her back.

“I don’t know,” she says, carrying on the conversation without pulling away an inch, “but Monica’s finding out.”

“Agnes looks like an average Westviewer again. It’s disconcerting.”

“She must’ve been faking right up until she went head-to-head with Wanda.”

“And now she’s one of them for real.”

“Seems like,” Darcy agrees.

When Monica returns to confirm Agnes’s newly mind-controlled status, Darcy peels herself most of the way away from Jimmy, leaving her arm around his back, beneath his FBI jacket. He rests his arm around her shoulders.

“I don’t know what we do with her,” Monica says, hands on her hips. “We can’t undo what Wanda did, but do we leave Agnes here in Westview, trusting that she isn’t able to hurt anyone? Do we bring her in?”

“If it’s beyond our power to help her, maybe we just leave her here,” Jimmy suggests. “Wanda knows where she is, so we let Agnes stay in a place she can be found when or if Wanda decides to release her.”

“It’s tricky,” Darcy says slowly. “Agnes is capable of doing so much damage, and I’m sure she’s going to get good and angry while Wanda has her trapped inside herself. You and I know how that feels,” she says to Monica. “But that Agnes is secure—as far as we know—inside Sitcom Agnes, like little Agnes nesting dolls. I don’t know if this is the kind of punishment she deserves for pushing Wanda to the brink, but I do know it’s not going to be pretty if that inner Agnes is unleashed with nobody around to mitigate the consequences.”

“Sentient Weapon Observation and Response Division,” Monica says softly.

“Hmm?”

“S.W.O.R.D. That’s what we’re supposed to stand for. I think, without Tyler Hayward around, it’s high time S.W.O.R.D. went back to its roots of trying to understand exceptional people, circumstances, and technology instead of just attacking them.”

“Sounds as though you might have a plan, Captain,” Jimmy says. Darcy glances at his face and catches his small, knowing smile.

Monica beams back.

“The former Director may have kicked me off the base, but I’m still S.W.O.R.D. and I still believe in my mother’s original goals for the organization.”

“Hey, it’s your legacy,” Darcy says. “You have my vote for Director.”

“You want to put Agnes under S.W.O.R.D. observation?” Jimmy asks.

“Not just Agnes. Not if Wanda’s willing to listen.”

With the sky rapidly lightening, Monica roughs out a plan that involves a partnership between S.W.O.R.D. and Wanda Maximoff. A partnership because any other dynamic would surely fail. After what they all witnessed today, it’s obvious that someone as powerful as Wanda can’t be held against her will. In exchange for Wanda making reparations to the people and town of Westview (not the least of which will be repairing all physical damage, which Monica knows Wanda’s capable of, since there’s no longer a Monica-sized hole in her living room wall) and an agreement to be held in the custody of S.W.O.R.D., under the leadership of Director Monica Rambeau, Monica thinks she has plenty to offer Wanda.

“You think she’ll do that deal?” Jimmy asks.

“That’s my question too,” Darcy says. “I mean, without the deal, Wanda can go where she pleases, right?”

“But she’ll be alone,” Monica counters. “We know what her loved ones mean to her. That’s what all this has been about—Wanda doing whatever it takes in order to go through life less alone.”

“What can you give her?”

“Vision,” Jimmy says abruptly. “The other one, the one who left. You think he’ll be back.”

“I think he’ll want answers,” Monica agrees. “Whatever Hayward did to him, he did at S.W.O.R.D. and I’m betting that Wanda will see that’s her best chance to reunite with Vision.”

“Vision will come back,” Darcy says, putting it together, “and Wanda will be there waiting.”

“And in the meantime, we use her expertise as we continue our work in a… more transparent vein. Give her access, keep her busy.”

“Keep her happy,” Jimmy cuts in. Monica nods her acknowledgement.

“Yes. Show her what it’s like to help people again. What better way to remind her there’s more to the world than her artificial paradise than to have her consult on the work we’re doing in space?”

“If you need somebody to sell Wanda on the space angle, I’m your girl,” Darcy volunteers.

“I’ve already had some ideas about that,” Monica promises with a smile.

Her eyes focus beyond Darcy and Jimmy and they turn to see what she’s looking at. Black hood drawn up over her head, Wanda’s walking back into the downtown. Alone. Darcy hopes that the fact that she’s black-hatted doesn’t mean she’s already decided against working to redeem herself to rejoin the good guys.

“You better stay in touch too,” Monica tells Jimmy, shifting as she prepares to intercept Wanda.

“If you reach out to Darcy, I’m sure I won’t be far,” he says. Darcy’s heart performs quick, happy thumps.

With that, Monica walks purposely towards Wanda. Darcy watches her cautious body language and Wanda’s tension in response to being accosted, but there isn’t any visible escalation. When FBI vehicles and the team Darcy assumes belongs to Major Goodner roll up the street, Wanda doesn’t flee. Darcy looks to Jimmy.

“You better go take charge,” she suggests.

He gives her a bashful smile.

“I will in a minute. The evacuation should run like clockwork after all the prep we did. With the Hex removed, everyone’s free.”

“They’re free, I’m free…”

“Are you free Saturday?” The smile’s a little slyer now.

“After all this, I don’t even know what day of the week it is,” Darcy admits, “but yes.”

He laughs.

“What are you thinking?” she asks, twisting to face him as his hand moves from her shoulder to her waist. “Quiet night in watching TV?”

“You know, I think I need a break from TV for a while. How about a movie?”

Darcy grins.

“You buy the tickets, I’ll buy the snacks?”

“Deal,” Jimmy says, and smiles against her mouth when he ducks his head to kiss her.

#my writing #Only in a Sitcom #wandavision #wandavision spoilers #Darcy Lewis #Jimmy Woo #Monica Rambeau #Darcy Lewis x Jimmy Woo #Darcy x Jimmy #Vision

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