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#and it’s all so visual and instinctive. it’s one tiny little moment that doesn’t fit suddenly pulling back the curtain of reality
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Love Cuts Deep
Chapter 3 - F#$k the Police
Bucky Barnes x (f)reader Series Rewrite (Civil War, Infinity War/Endgame, TFATWS)
Summary: What’s happening in Romania? For awhile you’ve had the best time with Bucky all to yourself, but now, it appears the world is not done with you two just yet.
Warning: tinge of fluff, violence, fighting, reader being a bad bitch, Bucky going through it, Steve metaphorically herding cats (Bucky, reader, T’Challa), some google translate (I hope its right)
Masterlist
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Leaning against a telephone poll, you adjust your darkly tinted sunglasses before stuffing your hands back into your jacket pockets. Hood up and stance as casual as ever while you patiently await your dark haired lover, who at this moment happens to be purchasing some plump and juicy looking plums.
Doing his best to appear relatively unrecognizable, Bucky walks over to you in his usual faded ball-cap, layered jacket, and black gloves while you give him a nod of acknowledgment as he quickly approaches. Soon he’s by your side and the two you begin walking towards the street where you’ll be crossing.
“Y/N, you think these ones will taste good?” Wonders Bucky as he shifts his gaze to you for a wise answer, like you magically are able to tell if these random plums are sour or not.
You shrug, “Probably.”
He stares uncertainly down at the plums, “They were kind of sour last time.”
Throwing him a humored glance, you keep walking, “Did you tell her that? Maybe she would have given these ones to you for free.”
“Well.....no.”
Retrieving your dark tinted sunglasses from the bridge of your nose before shoving them in a pocket, you throw a glance back over at the plum cart, nudging Bucky, “I’ll steal some again and then we’ll compare what days they taste good and what days they taste bad. Maybe that will help out your plum dilemma.”
“You’ve stolen plums before?” Whispers Bucky in bewilderment like you just stabbed a guy in broad daylight, “Y/N.” He whines, “We can’t be stealing things! We’re trying to keep a low profile, remember?”
Rolling your amused eyes at his fearful concern over something so tiny, you playfully tug against his grey jacket, “Stealing some plums is the least unlawful thing I have ever done moya lyubov' now come on.” You muse with a reassuring grin.
Wanting to protest, he chooses against it when he hears you call him my love in Russian; that’s new, he think warmly, you’ve never said anything that deeply intimate before. He could certainly get used to it.
Coming to a halt, the two of you patiently wait for the roadway to clear up, but while you’re standing there in the open, you skillfully take notice of some man in his mid thirties with a half eaten lollipop positioned in his right hand. He leans against the counter from behind a newspaper stand, where two curious greyish blue eyes give yourself and then Bucky a wary look as he begins to squint suspiciously. Soon his gaze trails over you both again like he’s trying to solve a 1000 piece puzzle, but can’t quite tell just yet which piece goes next. How odd, you think.
“Nothing is ever odd, there is reason for everyone’s intricate behavior, always be on guard.” Speaks a whisper from your past days training with Hydra.
Glancing over to Bucky, you notice as he starts to appear rather uncomfortable since he’s realized the stranger is staring. What a nosy little weasel, why would he give a shit about us? Tugging on his sleeve, you begin taking the lead across the four-way, the weaselly looking mans eyes go wide in genuine fear as he turns and books it out of the booth like a bat out of hell. Racing past annoyed civilians as they go about their normal business.
Brows furrowed in confusion you hastily reach the newspaper stand and flip a paper around only to be greeted with greatly troubling words printed aggressively in big black letters reading...
 -WINTER SOLDIER CÂUTAT PENTRU BOMBARDMENTUL DIN VIENNA- 
...with a blurred security footage picture of Bucky’s shadowed face walking suspiciously by a white van in presumably a parking garage.
On further inspection lower down the page, you take notice of the alarming words below, translating to...
 -On international watchlist; Possible accomplice suggested at place of crime, Y/N Valerious is being investigated into for feasible involvement with one credited for bombing. Investigators advise great caution if seen and require a report immediately upon recognition.-
Paired with a blurred fuzzy head shot taken from CCT footage in 1997 after you sliced your way through a notorious drug cartel in Colombia.
Shit. And how the fuck did they find that picture?
Bucky quickly rips it out of your hands and stares frustratingly at the parchment, eyes focused on the concerning news as he flickers his attention back down at you, “Y/N?” He mutters uncertainly, face appearing increasingly distraught as he looks to you for an answer.
Glancing warily around the crowded area, you swallow nervously before finding his uneasy gaze once again, “I really need to stop speaking ahead of myself....fuck.....we need to leave.” You urge, tugging on his arm to move, you let go as the two of you head back to your shared apartment.
Eyes glancing warily around you the whole way there.
——
Walking quickly up the steps, you suddenly catch the scent of an unknown man leading right into the cracked door of your apartment, Bucky halts as you remain still as stone, nose crinkling as you test the air.
“Y/N?” He whispers unsurely as you shush him.
Sensing this stranger isn’t here to fight due to the lack of aggressor pheromones extruding from out of his system, you both cautiously walk into the room, on guard as you move more silently then an owl in flight, he doesn’t hear a thing. Quickly you visually analyze a tall man in dark blue with a helmet tightly fitted against his head, standing relatively still with his back turned to you two. A familiar shield held strongly from his left forearm as his head looks down at the journal positioned in his right hand. 
Bucky’s journal.
Standing defensively side by side with Bucky, the uniformed man suddenly turns around; his eyes are a dark ocean, yet soft and set; a faded white A sits just above his eyes and a dull white star appears in the center chest area of his stealth suit. This is without a failing doubt Captain America, but what does he want with you two? 
Breathing steadily he gives the two of you a once over before focusing on Bucky, “Do you know me?” He asks, voice calm and collected. Not an ounce of aggression.
Your eyes flicker cautiously from Bucky then back to the stranger as he takes a slow breath, “You’re Steve. I read about you in a museum.”
[They’ve set the perimeter] -speaks a disembodied voice from Steve’s earpiece, only yourself and Steve are able to pick it up.
What the fuck does that mean?
The American sets Bucky’s journal onto the kitchen table as he shifts in place, your fists instinctively clench in preparation for a possible clash as Steve’s perceptive gaze shifts warily from your hands up to your watchful glare; he must know about you, “I’m not here to fight.” Confirms Steve with a small nod before turning to Bucky, “I know you’re nervous, and you have plenty of reason to be. But you’re lying.”
“I wasn’t in Vienna, we both weren’t. I don’t do that anymore.” Mumbles Bucky truthfully, you’ve been with him for months now and neither of you have even left the city so how the hell did his blurry photo get printed onto the daily newspaper?
[They’re entering the building.] -speaks the voice.
Steve takes an urgent yet cautious step forward, clearly something terrible is about to go down for the three of you, if the guy on the ear piece wasn’t telling enough, “Well, the people who think you did are coming here now. For both of you. And they’re not planning on taking you alive.” Warns Steve sincerely, voice steady and true.
Bucky’s lips nervously purse together as he mutters unenthusiastically, “That’s smart. Good strategy.”
[They’re on the roof. I’m compromised.]- says the voice, more urgently this time.
Suddenly your ears pick up the sounds of heavy boots as they pound against the large spiraled staircase, squeezing your eyes shut in irritated anticipation, you open them to face the soldier, “Well this is fucking fantastic.” You seethe through clenched teeth, accent dripping strong as you shake your head in frustration.
Steve gives the two of you a pleading look, “This doesn’t have to end in a fight.” He urges as you both stand like a nervous predator, unsure if their prey is going to put up a deadly brawl to the death or not.
Giving him a hooded grimace, your eyes shift from the front door then back to him as you begrudgingly mutter, “It always ends in a fight.”
Looking away, he nods towards Bucky, “You pulled me from the river.” Starts Steve as Bucky hastily removes the black glove covering his metal arm, “Why?”
Bucky huffs, reluctant eyes dancing over to Steve’s, “I don’t know.”
[Three seconds!]- says the voice.
“Yes, you do.”
[Breach! Breach! Breach!]
Yells the voice frantically just as the left window shatters as some can sized metal bomb crashes onto the floor, the three of you immediately turn towards the harmful object right as Bucky kicks it, Steve coming to the rescue as he covers the bomb with his shield. Boom! It goes off, leaving everyone to live another day, or at least for the next minute.
A second later you hear insistent shouting in German just as Bucky grabs the mattress, he shields himself with it as his other hand pulls you to his chest protectively just as a destructively lesser bomb ignites against it from the now broken window.
Pulling out of his grasp, Bucky tosses it aside before kicking the small kitchen table where it lodges itself tightly against the front door. Turning towards the two windows positioned on your right, you’re immediately greeted with the breaking of glass as two heavily equipped combat police burst rudely into the room, heavily armored in tactical gear and ready to kill.
Well, shit.
At an inhuman speed you swiftly grab the first mans gun and point the steel barrel upwards just as he shoots, avoiding killing Bucky if you were a second late; your eyes turn angry as you swing your fist, knocking him unconscious from your blow to his helmet.
The second man shoots a line of bullets that scream angrily into the ceiling when Steve thrusts his gun away from you two, knocking him out in the process. Immediately another soldier breaks into the room from the bathroom door by Steve, gun at the ready as Steve shoves his weapon to the side where Bucky then harshly kicks him in the chest. Sending the intruding soldier into the bathroom, presumably with a hefty concussion.
But before Bucky is able to continue onward, Steve quickly grabs his arm, “Buck, stop!” Instantly he twists out of Steve’s grasp, giving his old friend a deadly glare, “You’re gonna kill someone. Both of you!” He snaps, stormy eyes shifting from you to Bucky just as your Winter Soldier shoves him to the ground by his collar before lunching his metal arm violently into the floorboards right next to his head.
Glaring at Steve, he growls, “I’m not gonna kill anyone.” Before pulling his arm out of the broken wood, travel backpack in hand; he stands and immediately throws it out the broken window about ten stories onto another rooftop below.
Standing in the middle of the ruined apartment as you face them, another soldier crashes through the broken window to your left, Bucky and Steve brace for the worst as the man pauses for a moment, gun facing the floor. Moving swiftly, you quickly unsheathe your razor sharp Adamantium claws out of your right fist before cleanly slicing his weapon into three consecutive pieces.
Shouldn’t have hesitated fucker.
The broken gun clashes to the floor as the soldiers eyes flash with fear before you roughly push him against the wall, grimacing in anger, right hook cocked back as you suddenly thrust a clawed fist directly into his shoulder. He lets out a pained gravelly scream as you pull away to face Bucky and a wide eyed Steve, the injured soldier sliding down the wall to the floor as he applies pressure on his newly bleeding wound.
A second later two more men come racing into the room as your victim slumps to the side once you kick him in the head, unconscious but still breathing as small drops of blood seep out of his affected shoulder. He’s someone else’s problem now.
Steve raises his shield as bullets deflect off the metal, soon Bucky throws his metal arm up; deflecting multiple bullets as Steve takes out a guy on the balcony. Bucky in the meantime has managed to knock the gunman out with a cement brick as you retract your claws back into your fist.
Boom! Boom! Boom! 
Pounds loudly against the locked front door as bullets crash into the hinges, soon Bucky races for the thin wood and thrusts his metal fist into the door without a second thought. Seconds later he breaks down the door, knocking out two guys in the process as you slip past him and into the long staircase hallway that only goes in two consecutive directions, up or down.
Shit, more are coming up the stairs!
A soldier promptly breaks through the overhead glass window from the roof and ascends on a thick black rope, shooting at Bucky who easily deflects his bullets before you kick the man into the wall, knocking him out instantly. Body limp and peaceful as he hangs suspended mid-air in the center of the rounded stairwell, you quickly look down to witness the tiny army of combat police hellbent on ruining your perfectly fine day. 
Well, not much of a fine day anymore.
Without time to process much, you watch as more soldiers charge up the stairs, guns ready to fire; suddenly Bucky jumps on the knocked out man hanging from the ceiling and falls to the next landing below as he uses the unconscious soldier for a sort of pully system, knocking out more police as they try and fight him off once he lands.
Blinking, you jump down without assistance but your own fearsome willpower before shoving a guy down the stairs, who conveniently trips up others in the process. But at least eight more are racing to finish their job, right on cue another soldier meets on your landing as Bucky fights off one from behind you.
Before he’s even able to pull the trigger, you’ve sliced his weapon in half, kicking him harshly into the wall, doing the same to his friend as you fight your way along the staircase, skillfully avoiding bullets and fists alike. 
Turning around to the sounds of Bucky grunting, your eyes trail up and watch as he throws a man over the edge of the railing. But before anything bloody happens, Steve swiftly catches his dark collar much to your disappointment. He then heroically throws the man elsewhere as the fighting starts up again.
Soon Bucky nearly gets his lights knocked out as an armored gloved mitt comes flying for the back of his head; your fist however, breaks the guys jaw with a loud crack as you save your lover from an unfortunate injury. Bucky then gives you a quick nod of silent appreciation before you look up the staircase to see a disappointed Steve. oh, fuck off.
Huffing in irritation, you nudge Bucky to make a swift exit out of here; heeding to your urgent request he knocks another guy out before jumping down a multitude flight of stairs, grabbing onto the closest railing and tearing it back with a pained cry as he uses it to maneuver himself onto the landing.
Alright, time to go.
Breaking a soldiers arm, you proceed to do the same; arriving roughly on the cement landing as you skillfully tuck and roll before jumping up into a standing position and taking a moment to watch as Bucky races down the hallway before jumping off the corridor balcony.
Taking a deep breath in preparation for the jump to come, you book it down the same hallway and soon are free falling while quickly headed for the rooftop below. The damn roof ledge comes faster then you’d anticipated; landing hard against the protruding edge, you grunt in pain before rolling across the roof a couple feet while Bucky picks up his backpack mid run.
With no time to dwell on the burning ache in your shoulder, you push yourself from the ground as you race to catch up with Bucky who’s a good ten feet from you by now. He listens as you grumble a string of incomprehensible swears in displeasured Russian, but keeps running forward as he knows you’ll be right behind him in an instant.
Boots smacking hard against the rooftop cement, you’re almost caught up with Bucky when without so much as a warning does a dark silent shadow appear in your line of sight from directly above you, a second later you’re forcibly thrown into one of the metal conditioning system units, eyes wide and head in a daze. Only to be greeted with a man dressed in a black catlike stealth suit of some strange armor, where he soon begins hand to hand combat with Bucky.
Fuck that hurt. Asshole, you growl miserably.
Bucky dodges and throws skilled yet desperate punches at the mystery individual, although neither of them appear to take any real damage, fortunately for Bucky’s dwindling safety, but not for this other guy. Shaking the fuzziness out of your head, and ignoring the small trickle of blood leaving a red stain from the side of your temple, you hastily jump to your feet and charge the armored bastard as he throws Bucky into another conditioner unit.
Making a clean dent in the thin metal, Bucky’s eyes widen in genuine fear as the angry panther brings his shimmering silver clawed hand into the air, ready to strike. Cornered, Bucky braces for the worst with his metal arm blocking his face just as you seize the panthers forearm.
He abruptly turns his armored head towards you, and is thus kindly greeted with a swift punch to the face that sends him rolling across the rooftop a couple feet away from you and Bucky. Tumbling for a moment, he instantly regains his footing while silver colored claws slash thin sparking lines of gold across the cement as he stops dead in a predatory crouched position.
Well, now he really looks unhappy.
Bucky watches as the panther slowly rises to his feet, looking rather angered by your violent intrusion; breathing heavily, you stare down the fucker before a slow ‘shling’ sounds from out of your clenched fists. The panthers head tilts curiously, closely resembling that of an actual feline as he witnesses a total of six razor sharp claws protruding dangerously in the sunlight.
“Alright. Now we’re even.” You growl darkly as the panther charges for an attack, within seconds yours claws clash violently against his armor as he swipes for an opening to cause some real damage.
Bucky rises to his feet as he watches you and the panther fight like old enemies, sparks fly like confetti as your claws slash against his strange suit while the two of you dance in a rhythmic warriors tango, strangely on the rooftop of some Romanian hotel while Steve remains elsewhere for the time being. 
Anticipating another blow from you, the panther blocks it and finally gets a clean shot of your face, soon you’re on the ground in a blurry daze before shaking your head while you rise to your hands and knees. Okay fuck this guy.
Drops of ruby red blood patter onto the cement as your face turns into a pissed off scowl, both the panther and Bucky watch in anticipation as you dramatically turn around to face them. Three clean slashes mark deep from your right hairline, across your cheek, where finally it relents at the base of your jaw.
You sneer in vexation as your skin fuses ripped muscle and blood vessels back together in a matter of seconds, then without warning does a helicopter appear from above where it rudely begins raining bullets onto the three of you.
Fuck this.
Luckily the artillery is deflected away from Bucky as it hits the panther first, unluckily for you, a couple strays vigorously drag themselves in and out of your shoulder and torso. A sharp white hot paint rips through your vessel causing your legs to buckle, falling to the ground, you instantly scream out in agony when the unpleasant sensation fully registers in your brain, as Bucky’s face turns to worry then anger.
Soon the bullets stop as the helicopter gets pushed off course by some man in a bird suit. Well today really couldn’t be any weirder, what’s next Ironman? You sarcastically think before reluctantly forcing yourself onto your feet only to be welcomed by the worried face of Bucky as he grabs your bleary attention, “Let’s go, we could make it to the underpass.” Affirms Bucky as your strength comes to you once again, muscles fusing back together, the pain fading swiftly.
“Yeah, fuck this.” You retort as he turns and swiftly jumps off the roof and onto another ledge below a you do the same, claws slashing down the buildings side as you do so. But all too soon are you greeted by the metal on metal screeching of the panthers claws as he slides down the side of the same apartment building, closer then you’d like. “Fuck.” You mutter, deeply irritated by this dickhead who won’t give either of you a break.
Not wanting to face the wrath of his shiny sharp claws, you quickly retract yours before you and Bucky instantly turn and jump the rest of the way down, landing skillfully onto the grey sidewalk below before booking it out of there as the panther aggressively chases onward. Steve not far behind, though you don’t care nor have the time to look.
Racing across the city road, bullets fly by the two of you as the opening to the cities subterranean underpass greets you with open arms. Shuffling past some small bushes, Bucky jumps down first, you right behind him as your world turns into a hasty blur. Soon everything comes to an abrupt halt once your boots smack hard against the surface of the roads blacktop.
The sounds of angry car horns blare loudly in your ears as a couple vehicles swerve to the side, just narrowly missing yourself and Bucky, “Come on!” You shout urgently before twisting around and booking it down the underpass with Bucky close behind.
Running at an inhuman speed, you pass cars and trucks alike as they swerve to avoid the two of you, about fifteen seconds later you’re greeted to the all to familiar whirring sounds noisily emitting from the local police cruisers as they hastily follow yourself, Bucky, Steve, and the panther across the highway tunnel.
“Ugh, move!” You snap in irritation before deciding to jump up and run across a green convertible, Bucky almost smiling as he races on the blacktop next to you, continuing onward as you land and race for safety or cover or anywhere away from this mess.
“Left!” Shouts Bucky as you both reach the area where the two huge lanes split from right to left, noticing the sirens coming down from the right lane, you don’t think twice as he practically pulls you in the opposite direction. Left lane it is.
This time traffic races towards you which makes maneuvering in this fucking tunnel even that much more difficult. Your boots clash against the hard ground as Bucky suddenly eyes up an approaching motorcycle, he is not.
As the motorbike comes into about five feet of him, Bucky grabs onto the handles, pushing the guy off while he does an impressive one-eighty before throwing a leg over to straddle the bike as he now points it in the direction of the traffic flow. Not wasting a precious second longer, do you swiftly jump on, throwing your arms around his strong waist for some bit of safety.
The bike instantly growls and groans in protest as Bucky focuses on getting the two of you the fuck out of there; cars fly by in a blur as the wind aggressively whips back your hair, only causing you to hold on tighter as Bucky races down the underpass’s road. Sirens and police speeding not far behind. The constant sound of their sirens just about driving you insane.
Without so much as a warning, your peaceful ride is rudely interrupted when the panther jumps off a car and makes a beeline for your body. Bucky’s flesh hand is around the panthers throat in a second as you lower yourself out of the way. In reply, the panther suddenly twists his body and runs a couple feet on the side of the tunnels wall and low cut ceiling before Bucky tries to throw him down by his throat.
Unfortunately this causes the motorcycle to shift left; dangerously close to the racing ground, he lets go of the panther and switches hands on the handles so he can avoid losing control completely. Metal fingers scrape across the cement creating glowing sparks of angry fiery flickers as the panther holds onto your jacket and the back of the motorcycle for dear life.
Not appreciating this in the slightest, you instinctively begin unsheathing your right claws that are positioned across your lap; you bend low, face pressed against Bucky before twisting the best you can and swiping the panther off of you and onto the harsh ground below. You don’t care to look back as Bucky pushes his metal hand off the ground, finally at last stabilizing the motorbike. Hitting the gas harder, it flies down the road as you swiftly retract your claws back into your knuckles.
“Y/N are you okay!” Shouts Bucky as you tighten your hold from behind, face pressed against his back as you listen to the sirens hastily approaching in the distance.
Gifting him a squeeze of reassurance, you give him a light kiss though he doesn’t feel it, “I could honestly be better!”
Bucky shows the ghost of a smile as he whirs the bike into submission, soon more wind swirls past your face as he pulls something out of his pocket and throw it against the roof of the tunnel where it sticks, blinking red.
Boom! Crash! Down goes a multitude of cement ceiling and destructively onto the freeway, effectively creating a blocker against the panther, Steve, and the Romanian police.
Smiling into his back, you mentally praise him for keeping some of the Hydra weaponry at hand. Until you’re roughly pulled from the bike by the fucking panther himself. Who even is this guy?
And how did he....
Yelping in surprise, you grasp onto Bucky’s backpack for all it’s worth, successfully managing to drag him down with you. The grey tiled street of the tunnel hits against your body harder then you’d like, but nonetheless you take the beating like a champ as you tumble harshly against the ground.
You and the ground are really getting to know each other today.
The panther doing the same from behind you while Bucky rolls awkwardly across the floor like an angry stiff log of dark flowing hair and concealed muscle. While trying to stop yourself from clashing around any further, you quickly regain your bearings in time to block Bucky from getting his throat cut out by the panther who’s on him in an instant.
With your claws bared and shimmering in the light of the protruding sun from the tunnels giant observatory opening, you’re quickly stopped by Steve as he races past you and tackles the panther to the ground by his waist.
Your little violet adventure coming to a messy end, when the panther stands defiantly a couple feet away from the three of you who by now have risen to your feet. Police lights flash from behind him as more surround the four of you instantaneously from on all sides, well shit, this doesn’t look good.
Your frantic eyes shift all around you as your world comes to a crashing halt, a helicopter flies over head, and in this moment you want nothing more then to slash your way out of this one. But you’re trapped.
You stand to Bucky’s immediate right as Steve stands to his left, hands out protectively as you glare at the officers in front of you, neither you nor Bucky speaking a word as you take in heavy breaths from your hefty sprinting session. Suddenly the notorious War Machine lands with a dramatically heavy thud onto the road in front of you, shoulder gun and hand blasters raised as he looks between the three of you.
Well at least it’s not actually Ironman. Right?
“Stand down, now.” Commands War Machine as you throw him a resistant look of pure daggers, hatred and fury flashing across your face as you clench your fists.
Obeying the authoritative command, Steve puts his shield away, latching it to his back as you begrudgingly retract your silver tinted claws back into your forearms with the usual shling sounding as you do so.
“Congratulations, Cap.” Verbally applauds War Machine, voice clearly sarcastic, “You’re a criminal.”
Moments later the Romanian police fully surround you all, guns at the ready; you’re harshly pushed to the ground by angry gloved hands that take captive of your arms and wrists as they pin your stomach to the earth.
“ot"yebis', tupyye pizdy!” You mumble angrily in Russian as the Romanian special task officers hold you like a wounded beast, your actual words translating to “fuck off, you stupid cunts” though they’re none the wiser to your heated threats.
Your chin scrapes against the cement tiles as your hands are pressed against your back, tied instantly as you strain your head to look up. The panther retracts his catlike claws before unclasping his helmet to reveal the troubled face of a dark skinned man; brows furrowing in confusion you suddenly realize who he is when War Machine says, “Your Highness.”
Grimacing in agitation, you can’t help but let out a string of curses aimed crudely at the Wakandian prince and many of the officers in question, half of your verbal abuse a mix of both English and your mother tongue. Soon an officer lightly kicks your side as you send him a deadly glare that causes him to take a cautious step back.
Though to relieve himself of his high authority once more, he gathers some of his men's attention by pointing down at you, “Muzzle this one.” He commands diligently as you squirm in protest, your face a mask of pure rage while Bucky keeps a steady frustrated gaze with the ground. His heart breaking for how they’re treating the two of you, but most importantly how they’re dealing with you.
If not for the current situation, you could have actually laughed; well now, aren’t you quite royally fucked.
-
Tagged: @minigranger​ @bibliophilewednesday​ @holyhumorliteraturelight​ @diegos-butt
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The best love scenes tell their own story and TharnType’s lovemaking in the shower is one of them. Lovemaking consists an intergral part of their relationship, just like their cuddles, arguments, bickering and brutal honesty. Physical intimacy is one of the many ways they communicate their love to each other. Furthermore, watching Tharn and Type make love shows the audience how far they have come in those 7 years. 
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When Tharn joins him in the shower, Type isn’t the least surprised. He knowingly smiles because he’s expecting it and welcoming it, just as he’s welcoming Tharn’s hands lathering soap over his chocolate skin, soothingly gliding over Type’s back, in a move that is more a caress than anything else. It comes as a second nature to Type to enjoy Tharn’s gentle ministrations; this has clearly happened many times before over the years, but he’ll never get tired of it.
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Tharn has always understood Type so well, sometimes even better than Type himself, therefore he knows that his boyfriend is still bothered by something, even after they’ve already made love on the couch once, so he asks Type what’s wrong and Type tells him because he’s used to sharing what’s on his mind with Tharn and confide in him. There are no secrets, lies or denial between them. Not anymore.
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Tharn weaves his unique magic, creating a world that consists only of them, and Type lets himself fall under his mesmerizing spell. He gave up resisting Tharn a long time ago, it was useless anyway. Tharn might not solve Type’s problems, but he can make them disappear, banishing them from their little world where they don’t belong and where no one but them two exists, and Type forget them, at least for a little while. He whispers comforting words against his ear while never stopping soothingly stroking his arms and then he pecks his ear. It’s amazing how every moment is an opportunity for them to touch anywhere they can reach so no part of each other’s bodies is a taboo. Furthermore, an ear kiss is a rare sight in dramas and it speaks of a very deep and intense love.
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And when Tharn rests his chin on his lover’s shoulder blade, fitting their bodies together in an intimate backhug that leaves no space between them, virtually glueing them together, Type smiles his shy secret giddy smile that always appear on his face whenever Tharn cuddles him from behind and nuzzles his back. In Tharn’s warm embrace, Type feels happy and at peace, his worries forgotten, because Tharn, his personal recharger, always manages to calm and cheer him up. From the moment, Tharn entered the shower, he’s never stopped smiling.
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Type might not have a penchant for grand romantic gestures like Tharn, but he’s thoughtful and romantic in his own unique way just like when he gathers his courage and shyly asks Tharn about the 7th anniversary present. The whole moment is a parallel to the time Type found about Tharn’s birthday 7 years ago. Type always asks his boyfriend what he wishes for because he wants to give Tharn something he truly desires and needs since Tharn has given Type so much and always manages to make Type blissfully happy with his surprise gifts, just like that glamping date in their living room. 
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Tharn turns Type around and pins him against the wall, caging him between his strong arms, because he yearns to see those expressive bambi eyes, so soft and pliant just for him. 
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Those dark eyes which tell him so much about Type, they are like a window inside his heart and soul, but above all, he sees himself reflected in them together with Type’s love and longing for him. And who can blame him when Type looks at him so expectantly and lovingly. 
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It doesn’t matter what Tharn wished for because Type would have given anything he asked. But Tharn wants only him. He wanted only him for his 19th birthday and he’s always wanted only him since the moment Type had walked into their tiny dorm room 7 years ago. After all that time, nothing has changed. And Type grins like a fool because he realizes it. 
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While the idea of marriage makes him reluctant, there is no doubt in Type’s mind that he wants to spend the rest of his life with Tharn, being loved by Tharn and love him in return. 
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He promises Tharn those 70 years which is his whole life, his own forever,  without hesitation, eagerly and willingly.
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Tharn and Type pledge their whole lives to each other and that instinctively leads them to consummate their love in the most beautiful and natural way possible. It feels nostalgic and reminiscent of another moment they shared together in a different shower a long time ago. 
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The visual similarities only highlight the narrative differences. Back then, Type was hindered by his inexperience, trepidations, doubts and homophobia, making his touches shy and tentative. Type had a very limited sexual experience compared to Tharn when they met and Tharn became his teacher in many things, including sex. 
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He was the one who taught him the difference between fucking and making love. Tharn might forever remain Type’s first man, but now, after 7 years together, they are equally matched both emotionally and physically. 
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So no more sexual discoveries for them because now, they know each other’s bodies better than their own and what the other person likes, too. The stubble on their chins, a stark remainder that they are no longer teenage boys but adult men.
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It’s incredible how both actors manage to express a wide spectrum of complex emotions - love, desire, physical release,... - using only their eyes, facial expressions and body language, making you feel exactly what they feel in this very moment.
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Even before Tharn gently cradles Type’s neck and brushes his thumb sensually over his collarbone, their eyes have been roaming over each’s over taut muscles, travelling down to look unabashedly towards the other man’s crotch. 
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Their eyes are smiling at each other and then their gasps and the smacking of their lips reverberating in the shower stall prove how palpably real, tangible and deeply in love these two men are. Lost in their kiss, devouring and sucking their wet lips.
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When Tharn lifts Type up as if he weighted nothing and Type wraps his arms and legs around Tharn with ease, fingers digging into his neck, it feels so practiced like they’ve done it countless times.For Tharn and Type, seeking each other’s warmth, craving to be joined in flesh feels spontanenous and natural like breathing, they NEED to be as close to each other as physically possible on a visceral level, with no barriers and space between. No other series addresses the realities of gay sex like TharnType does. They have done it once on the couch so Type’s already prepared and Tharn can take him immediately, thrusting into his tight heat. Because no matter how many times they’ve been together like this, it will never be enough. 
Their lovemaking is a sensory overload - visual, acoustic, tactile, olfactory,... - the picture of them together, the echo of their moans and water flowing down their bodies and sounds of a body meeting another body, the scent of their skin, the taste of their lips,... Watching all of this through a glass makes you feel like you are intruding on a private, deeply intimate moment.
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It’s hard to catch a glimpse of Tharn’s expression while he’s slamming into Type since the camera’s focus is on Type’s pleasure and so is Tharn’s. Because this has always been about Type, about making him forget everything that troubles him. It’s a way of allowing the audience to see Type through Tharn’s eyes. There is this fleeting moment of Tharn looking up to Type and watching him getting lost in pleasure through half-lidded eyes full of desire. Type has this innate ability to completely let go and lose himself in the overwhelming pleasure that Tharn gives him and Tharn gets off on the sight of it because he knows that in that moment there is no one else on Type’s mind but Tharn and the pleasure he brings him. The sight of Type being completely his - heart, body and soul - is his ultimate aphrodisiac and kink. 
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Trapped against the wall, in his embrace, Type is his to keep, his to ravish, his to love. There, Tharn’s lips and nose brush against his favourite spot - the crook of Type’s neck - where he can smell Type’s sweet boy scent.
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There are so many little details which add so much nuance to the whole moment, making it feel incredibly erotic, raw, passionate and real:  Tharn’s hands holding Type close, Type’s palms on Tharn’s on shoulders pulling him near, their lips mimicking the movement of their bodies below, Type being pushed up by the force of Tharn moving inside him,...
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And when Type finally cums, he slams his hand on the glass, clenched in utter abadon, letting go of his hold on Tharn’s shoulders because he has complete trust in his lover and feels protected in Tharn’s powerful arms. He knows that Tharn will always keep him safe and never let him fall.
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aurora-daily · 3 years
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You Don’t Need A Cure For Yourself! – Norwegian Pop-Star Aurora On Songwriting, Self-Doubt, And Community
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Interview by Laura Gruebler for TITLE Magazine (August 14th, 2021).
If you haven’t heard about Aurora yet, you will surely recognise her song “Runaway”. Although this single was released back in 2015, it was only this year it gained massive popularity. “Runaway” has gone viral on Tik Tok and Instagram and is accordingly to Spotify amongst the top 50 TikTok songs of 2021.
However, this young singer/songwriter from Norway is more than just a one hit wonder. Aurora is a promising talent for songwriting and composing. In addition to that, her open mind, and sympathetic character enabled her to establish a loyal and ever growing fan base. In our interview we got to know this musician from a very personal side and she ceratinly gained some new supporters.
How are you today? What does a typical day in your life look like right now?
I’m fine, thanks for asking. It’s a bit of both, I’m a lot in the studio, but I just finished my album that is coming out soon, so I’m having a tiny holiday, which has been great. But yeah, it’s busy but fun. I’m very excited about what’s coming.
(The pandemic has been challenging for everybody differently. How did you experience lockdown? Did it have any impact on your creativity?)
Personally, I have quite enjoyed being forced by the virus to be more inside and to be less social. I do enjoy that kind of lifestyle, I like being home and alone. But of course it is a different experience when you know you don’t have any other choice. But I’ve enjoyed the space and the time. It’s been great for my creativity, I’ve been creating quite a lot. But of course, I’ve been sad on behalf of the world and the people. It’s been sad and equally healing. I’ve been very lucky, although I couldn’t work as much or go on tour.
What inspires you? How do you decide what to write about?
It can come very suddenly, very out of the blue and I’ll know when it’s the perfect line. I also always have long album titles, which just happen to me and from there I get very inspired and know what I’m going to do. For example, for the album that I just finished now, I knew the title last year in January, and then I started writing for it.
I always write a song with a mission to fit into a new story. It’s like every song is a new chapter of a book. And the meaning is very important, instinctive, and driven by my heart.
What makes a good song? What is more important: melody and instruments or lyrics and meaning?
Meaning always comes first, and often the melody. Or the title, I often begin with the title actually. I know my record name and the vision before I start writing for it. I like to write conceptually.
Your only Norwegian song “Stjernestøv” which means stardust has been quite successful in your home county. Why did you decide to write and perform mainly in English?
I love to read, it’s my favorite thing in the world. But it breaks my heart that I’ll never get to read many of them in their original language. And I guess I’d suggest always writing in your mother tongue but it’s so sad that someone else then has to translate. And I feel like it’s the same with my songs. I want as many people as possible to be able to understand my music in the way I write it. English is a more direct and universal language.
What makes a good music video? Your recent song release “Cure For Me” comes with a really fun video. Do you have any impact on the outcome – what is important to you to communicate with your visuals?
I am very inspired by the visual world. And I guess people are more used to understanding visual things and pictures in comparison to sound. We need to work harder to understand just sound. I love to take on the opportunity and create a video for each of my singles and take care of how people perceive my songs. It’s one of my favorite things to do. It’s so fun. I love hiding details and clues in my videos. And my fans are so clever – they always figure out what things mean or guess what my next song will be.
You have uploaded a tutorial for the dance moves in “Cure For Me”. Is dancing something you like to express yourself with?
I love dancing. My favorite thing is going to rave parties and dancing until the next morning. It’s the best thing ever. I think we’re meant to dance and shake our bodies way more than we do. I can’t understand people who can resist dancing. It doesn’t even have to look good, it should just feel liberating.
At TITLE Magazine we focus on being true to yourself and your True Identity. Have you found your True Identity yet? How would you describe it?
Yes, I think I have found my True Identity. I feel very grounded in myself and I feel very grounded on this Earth. I feel very connected to the ground and my place in this world. So my True Identity is a very grounded and calm one. Luckily, it’s been like that for a little while now.
“Cure For Me” basically has the message to not doubt yourself, and love yourself regardless. No one needs a cure for themselves, no matter what other people say. Have you experienced any negativity towards yourself before? How did you deal with it?
I haven’t experienced it much in comparison to others. I was teased in school because I dressed quite strangely and I guess I act differently. I didn’t feel very connected to other people. I struggled with finding a sense of belonging in a group at school or within the system. But now, I’ve really found my place. And my fans helped a lot to show that I can be connected to so many people out there in the world, however, not in my neighborhood in the countryside.
I spent a lot of time in nature, which made me gain energy, but I often disappeared again when I entered a room with other people in it. I didn’t like people so much when I was younger. And this feeling you are not the same as the people around you goes into this feeling that something is wrong with you instead of accepting the differences.
What advice would give others that are being told they are not good enough or doubt themselves?
The little box that has been put out in front of us is so small and the world is telling us that we have to fit in this box – this pattern of behavior, this way of looking, being, loving, or you’re not going to be accepted. It’s a very narrow whole we are supposed to fit into and it simply doesn’t make sense. It’s very soul strangling. And if you worry about fitting in, think of how little your perspective is and how little you actually see, and how little you have left to actually experience life and yourself in this world.  So, it really doesn’t matter what the world or our parents or even ourselves think of us. We can be our harshest critics. It can be so difficult to love ourselves but it really shouldn’t matter to fit in this useless box.
Since the kickstart of your career and the successful release of your EP “Running With The Wolves” in 2015, you have been doing some great performances and achieved some amazing things. What is your personal highlight of your career so far?
I am very proud of my community. But I am also scared by it. I don’t like the idea of worshiping one single person so much. It’s not natural. But I feel like I have a different relationship with my fans. It’s based on mutual respect and admiration. They opened my eyes to how beautiful the world is and made me believe in mankind again. It’s the best gift I could ever get in life.
The highlight of my career is realizing how much we can do, or use our voices to speak up against the wrong, and loudly about love. It’s so beautiful and powerful. And change can only be done with many people standing together.
How do you percieve community online? How do you feel about virality and hype on Tik Tok and Instagram?
I guess it’s the same online as well. I think of every person as a single human being sitting at home. The people I want to reach the most are the people that are most isolated and lonely. I am a big fan of the online community and I find it magical that we’re all connected. I don’t care too much about the numbers of streams etc. It doesn’t seem to make anyone, including me, happy. Maybe for like a moment in which I’m joyfully surprised but then it’s over. It’s so short living.
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angelicichor · 4 years
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Some N//SF//W headcanons for some of my favourite slashers bc I can't sleep:
Michael Myers (RZ) :
• It's no surprise that he is rougher in bed, dominating is what he does and it comes to him easily, with that huge body of his
• Yet there's always some gentleness to his movements, an awareness that you're weaker than him and he needs to be careful with you, because even if the idea of you breaking at his touch is arousing, the fear of losing someone precious to him (again) keeps him focused.
• His fingers are trained both in craft and destruction, so I can say that him fingering you? A dream come true. He's watching you every time, a coy smile on his face, learning from your reactions as you melt in his touch. And every time you come just a bit quicker.
• If you really want to be D E S T R O Y E D - bite him. Literally. Don't draw blood though because he is going to probably almost kill you for that. But biting? Oh boy. Get ready to be set in fucking place. He's the monster here, he hurts you, not the other way around and he'll make sure you remember that.
• He'll make it a point not to use his knife though, he wants to show you HIS own power, so you fear him, not the damned weapon. He switches them out like toys anyways.
• I you go down that route prepare for pain. And I mean it. That man killed enough people to know where to press for your bones and muscles to scream under his touch, he'll dig his thumbs into your jaw as he grinds against you, choke you just with his knee on your chest when he's getting his dick hard, shove his hand down your throat, making you gag or choke, smilling the whole time, watching your tears form. You started this so see it through, he has MANY ideas on how to make you crumble.
• And trust me? You'll love it.
• Now the most surprising part? After he'd come and you're a panicked mess on the bed, half aware of everything around you, you'd feel your body lift slightly, then something warm envelop you.
• That's Michael, lifting you up, pulling you close to him and lulling you in his arms, using his raspy voice to calm you down, to tell you you're safe now and there will be no more pain... Until next time, that is.
Thomas Hewitt:
• Oh, Tommy's a kind giant, alright. Had his fair share of practice in careful touch making his masks, but there's some of that butcher roughness in there too, so expect his fingering to be a bit more... Insensitive.
• He'll be too absorbed with looking at your adorable expression to realize he's being a bit too rough, too mesmerized by the way you pull his hair and moan to see that his pace is too quick. If you want a slower and calmer ride, take the lead, whisper his name and pull his gaze a bit higher, to your eyes, let him absorb your beauty and use that to guide his movements.
• He loves you too much to resist you if you want to call the shots for a night, but just this once, okay? He ain't a bottom, Charlie taught him 'better' than that.
• Don't tease the boy too much though, because he ain't afraid to push you over the table and give you a solid ass slapping session. In this house discipline is all, and you're definietly lacking in it if you think you can grind against him like that and not take responsibility.
• But oh is it delightful to hear this man's aroused laugh when you beg for forgiveness, his firm hand decisively slapping you muscle, just in the right spot to make you squirm, leaving the flesh reddened for more than a day and you unable to sit properly.
• And just when you think he's done and you're off the hook he hauls your ass down into his basement on his shoulder and lies you down on a still bloodied table, pressing against your heat with his erection, chuckling lowly at your gasp as you feel just how hard he is.
• You don't have to wait long for him to slam into you, filling you to the brim, bit of pre-cum on his tip. He's always such a delicious fit.
• Still, while he's not slow in his movements he ain't brutal like Mikey either. It'd rather say it depends on whether he wants to make you both feel good or make you suffer just a bit longer.
• If there's blood involved though, he ain't gonna be waiting for nothing, it does something to him, even if it's not yours, he just adores that metallic smell, it makes him so light headed. He loves painting on your body with it too, but only once he realizes you ain't scared of a bit of gore. If you're squeamish he'd never even consider bringing you into the basement.
• In all honestly if you're into blood play, just pass him a knife and give him the sweetest smile you can, he'll catch on, don't worry. He's a damn professional too, so don't worry about fainting form blood loss, he got you covered.
• But his biggest secret is... He's a slut for rock and metal music. Greet him with Slipknot or Korn playing in your bedroom in the evening and he'll quickly be over you, eating you alive with his gaze, those hungry, hungry eyes.
• He ain't a dancer but let me tell you, he'll time his thrusts perfectly to the song you're playing, it's uneven, seemingly chaotic, rough, then soft, heated all the way through and you're loosing yourself to it, just as he is.
• Don't call him an animal, but he's definietly a beast then, clawing at your skin as he goes deeper, growling into your ear, one hand choking you into obedience and other bruising your hip in his obsessive grip.
• Even through the loud music you can hear and feel his heartbeat against your back. He wants you close, wants to use his strength to make you come and feel every single vibration of your body as you do.
•Make sure to scream if he bites you, remind him to control his instincts just a little bit, or moan, he'll stop his biting to laugh quietly and nuzzle into your neck.
• How?? THE FUCK??? CAN HE GO FOR SO LONG?!? You're already trembling under him, unable to move a muscle and he's still pounding into you mercilessly, enjoying the dominating force he has over your comparably tiny body. Each time your insides clench against him he pushes back, assuring that it welcomes him back.
• And somehow he manages to finish just as Vermilion ends. You are unsure whether this is just dumb luck, or if he really has so much self-restraint to hold it in for so long.
• I hope you have a towel or a handkerchief at hand because when he comes he comes loads, especially after longer sessions.
• He'd love for you to keep it inside though, our Tommy has a mayor breeding kink and even if you can't or won't give him children, he loves, LOVES seeing your trembling, defeated body filled with his cum.
• Oh and PLEASE do be vocal when he fucks you, it keeps him going. You're so cute when you call his name too...
Brahms Heelshire:
• Ah yes, the stinky wall boy. He actually showers, believe it or not, just not too often. It's hard to believe but it's true, though running and climbing through walls will get you dirty, there ain't no getting around that.
• Brahmsy doesn't really enjoy fingering, not you, not himself, he's more of an oral guy, more of a receiver, obviously, he's a brat after all, but when he gives, he gives it all and his tounge is amazing. Praise him and he'll give you the best orgasm you ever had with just his mouth.
• Most of the time it's hard to remember Brahms is a grown man, well, aside from the visual reminder that is. He is always so obedient and loves to follow his schedule, it's rare for him to actually act how his testosterone is telling him to. He's a good boy, you can be sure of that, especially when he's using his child voice.
• But there are days when his cover gets blown and you can tell immidietly, especially from his smell, sweet and warm, inviting you closer. It's almost as if he was in heat, keeping close, way past your personal space, grabbing you whenever he can, squeezing tightly at your hips, your chest, pulling your hands up to his face to give you soft, porcelain kisses.
• Then at some point the mask goes away, letting you stare in awe at his sly smile, his hooded eyes, lightly squinted to fit his expression, and a small lick of his lips lets you know that tonight you're his.
• Those nights are long and passionate, as each thrust tells you how much he adores you, your voice, your body, your you. His childish voice goes away so that the man of the house can speak and it makes you shiver as he calls your name, giving you small 'I love yous' and praising how good you feel, calling you his, only his.
• And to your utter surprise he makes sure that this night you come first, that you're satisfied before him, letting his bratty demeanor rot somewhere in a corner just for today, so he can treat you with the love and care you deserve for doing the same to him every single day.
• You're his darling and he makes sure to let you know that.
• Though those nights are very special to you, sometimes it goes a bit wilder.
• Sometimes the existence of a bed is forgotten and he swoops in from one of the hidden entrances and pulls you into the wall, mask already missing, so he can bite into your neck, make you scream in surprise, massaging your crotch messily, hastily, so he can get what he wants so much quicker and without you complaining.
• He takes you against the wooden walls, your moaning voice echoing through the skeleton of the house, hitting you right back and bringing that sweet blush back to your face.
• Don't try to order him around, "pretty please". He needs you, not your complaining right now. You can scold him later, he'll take it willingly, but in this moment he needs to let go, loose himself in you, chase his own release before yours so he can calm this heat down.
• Then just as you can feel him getting close he'll pull out and finish with his own hand outside of you like a proper gentleman. Except he comes on your thighs, so now those pants you were wearing? Yeah, those need washing.
• And if you're understanding to him after those 'accidents' you might expect a late night visitor, willing to make amends and give you something he forgot to give you earlier, with his lovely, lovely tounge and long, slim fingers. Make yourself comfortable, he's going to make sure you don't regret being patient.
• Also Brahmsy is a big fan of tying you up once you introduce him to the concept. Try it, he's very creative.
Hope you enjoy me being thirsty on main, may make part 2 if I'm feeling sleepless again or if anyone wants me to but haha I ain't a writer ( or at least not a good one, I usually write for myself but that shit ain't good... )
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lukn4inspo · 4 years
Text
A Little Pain In Your Love
For winchester-fantasies 1000 Followers Writing Challenge. Prompt in bold.
Summary: Angsty sweet smut yumminess
You need to end this, but you won’t. You know you won’t. You could try but he’d still be just a call away and eventually you’d break and end up right back here.
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Plus Size Reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut
Word Count: ~1500
Sam rests a shoulder against the door frame, arms crossed, watching you lean into the mirror to trace color over your lips. The flirty little dress rises up your legs to show a hint of tattoo.
“What are you doing, baby?”
“Going out. Don’t worry. I’m bringing protection.” You raise the skirt higher to flash your 9mm in its thigh holster.
“Alone?”
“Absolutely. A lady has needs.” You smile small and glance away. You need to end this, but you won’t. You know you won’t. You could try but he’d still be just a call away and eventually you’d break and end up right back here.
“Ow. That kinda hurt.” He slides his big hands around your waist and pulls you into him. “Don’t I always take good care of you? You don’t have to go out to get your needs met.”
You have to take a deep breath to sort through your emotions. Hurt, anger, hope, tenderness, confusion. “Did it ever occur to you that you’re hurting me, too? Look, I know you don’t like it when I find someone else but you’re the one who wants to keep things casual. Well, this is me keeping things casual. You have no say in who I sleep with. I can’t only be with you without actually being with you.”
Sam rests his head on your shoulder and squeezes your middle. “It’s not that I don’t want that with you. It’s just, you know, if we got involved it’d be like putting a target on your back.”
You push his hands off and walk away. “Don’t you think it’s a little late to worry about that? I travel with you guys all the freakin’ time and everybody already knows there’s something going on between us. And, in case you’ve forgotten, we met because I bailed you guys out of a bad situation. So, if you want to keep things casual, that’s fine. If you want a relationship, that’s fine, but make up your damn mind. In the meantime,” you pick up your purse and turn to go but he grabs your wrist, squeezes, stares into your eyes.
“You scare the shit out of me, you know that?” And you can see it’s true. The thought of you getting hurt because of him makes his battered heart flinch even as it strains toward you.
“Good. I’m worth it.”
And there’s his smile. It’s small and the fear’s still there but it’s tempered with lighter things. “Then, be with me. Just me. I’ll take such good care of you, you won’t want anyone else. Just don’t hold it against me if I’m overprotective, okay?”
You watch him for a moment, feel the warmth of his fingers. It’s hard to believe this is real. You’ve wanted it so much.  Your silence makes him nervous. He comes closer, rests his hands on the sides of your neck, thumbs stroking your cheeks. “Please, baby,” he whispers and closes his eyes. And you can think again, though you can’t speak yet.
You pull him down into the most sensual kiss you’ve ever given. A kiss that says ‘I’m keeping you’ because the moment he promised to take care of you, you’d made the same promise in return. He’s surprised when you push him to sit on the bed and plant a foot between his open knees but he recovers quickly. Runs a hand up your calf and kneads at the strong muscles there while you unbuckle your strappy sandal. When you switch to the other leg he gives it the same treatment but shivers when you pull your dress higher and remove your holster and gun. You check the safety and the chamber just because you know it turns him on to watch you handle it. That’s when his fingers slide up your inner thigh. When they enter you, he shivers again and his mouth drops open on a soft moan. It makes your knees weak and you have to wait before you lean over and carefully rest your gun on the nightstand.
This time he’s the one that pulls your mouth to his and it’s possessive. He works your lips and tongue like he has every right to take you over. His fingers are hard but sensual where you’re soft and wet. He releases your lips to kiss up your thigh, leaving tiny bruises in his wake. He’s always liked to leave marks but he’s in a hurry to get his lips on your cunt. He seals them around your clit and groans and it goes right up your spine. His fingers move faster and you can tell he’s struggling not to be too rough and gods that’s hot.
When he nips at your thigh and abandons your aching center you mewl but he’s trying to undress you as quickly as possible. “Sorry,” he kisses. “I need more baby.” Once you’re naked he presses fully against you and drags his hands everywhere they can reach, then picks you up and lays you out on the bed so he can spread your thighs and bury his face in you, sinking his tongue deep to taste and feel as much as possible. You jerk on instinct and he pulls your hips down to him, holds you close. He growls against your dripping flesh which sparks off an almost orgasm. “Mine now, aren’t you?” You whimper and twist your hips but he keeps you in place and attacks your cunt with his tongue again, adding his fingers this time. “Tell me. You have to say it. Say you’re mine, baby.”
But he’s stroking all the places inside you that make you moan and writhe. How does he expect words? He growls over your clit again, shaking his head side to side and fingering you faster. At the last minute, when you’re just about to come, he adds another finger and you shout, straining up against him and coming so hard you don’t even realize how hard you’re pulling his hair. He stays still against you as you come down, pressing firmly until you can control your muscles again. When you notice your fingers are aching you loosen them and pet his head. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” He caresses your soft belly, fits his hands into your waist, and marvels at your skin as if your body is new to him. He dips to kiss between your breasts. “But you didn’t say it.” You try to lift his head to look at you but he resists so you keep petting him.
“I’m yours.” It hurts to say because you longed for it and it’s frightening in its intensity. “And you’re mine.” He sighs.
“And I’m yours.”
“Come, love.” You pull him up and kiss him while he’s dazed and helpless against your lips, still processing your words. But that doesn’t last long. He sits up to pull his shirt off but you stop him. You want to undress him, one inch at a time. Usually, he can’t stand it but he’ll do it for you. When he’s standing at the side of the bed naked, you wraps your arms around him and rub your cheek on his hot, hard cock and kiss the head gently. His fingertips dig into your shoulders and he drops down before you. Finally your hips meet and grind. He luxuriates in the wet heat of you.
“Yesssss.” Then he’s pushing you to lie back, gripping your broad hips, and sinking in deep and slow. It’s decadent, the feel of him in this position. His cock presses firmly against your front wall and he watches closely for the signs that he’s on the right spot. Then he rests one large hand on your rounded lower belly and presses, trapping your sweet spot between his dick and his palm.
“Fuck, what are you doing? Fuck.” He just smirks and keeps going.
“You know I love it when your orgasm makes me come, too. I’m trying to get you off quick because I’m aching to come.”
“Our first time as a couple and all I get is a quickie?” you grin. He thrusts hard in retaliation, bouncing you up and back down on him.
“Who says we’ll be done after this?” He starts a rocking rhythm with smooth long presses punctuated by hard grinding thrusts. He was right. You are coming in no time and the look on his face is priceless. You’ll be storing that visual away for a long time. Shock and pleasure and a certain innocence? Whatever it is, it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. Aftershocks shiver through him and he lays half on you with his face turned into your hair.
“You okay, baby?” you ask as you stroke his back.
“Yeah,” he says breathless. “Just hold me tight.” He won’t let you see his face again so you turn more to the side and wrap around him as much as you can.
“Always,” you say into his chest.
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Communication Issues (AT:TTSIMBCMEOAYSFIL)- Chapter Two
Ao3,   MasterPost,   Chapter One, Chapter Three
Relationships: (eventual) Romantic Analogince
I’m finally back from my impromptu hiatus!!! My laptop, like, just fuckin broke... but now I’ve got a new one so it’s okay!!! And the first thing I did with it was make these little characters Hurt.
Warnings: Repressing Emotions (k i n d a), food mention, self-isolation/avoiding one’s friends, general angst, cursing, unreliable narrator (maybe??? by that I mean Logan is stupid and has no idea what’s actually going on.) 
Word Count: 5,244
To the best of your knowledge, the three of you are close. To see the facts: you, Roman, and Virgil spend the majority of your time together, partaking in a number of activities that all of you find fun. Comparing your time with them to how much you see, say, a friend like Janus- it becomes apparent that the three of you ought to be considered ‘best friends’. 
However, you had preferred to be 100% certain of this, as you like to be with all things. It was a few weeks after Roman’s New Idea when you finally gave in to this preference (more of a need, really). You asked outright the nature of your dynamic with them.
Roman laughed at you. The abashment you felt was, unfortunately, a very familiar thing.
‘Is the idea of us being best friends really so humorous?’ you challenged, masking the sting you felt with indignation. Virgil had elbowed Roman sharply, explaining to him that you were seriously asking. His laughter stopped at once. ‘Of course we are,’ he’d said. ‘I thought you were kidding, because it seemed so obvious,’ he’d continued. 
All you could manage was a small ‘Oh’. 
So, yes, you’ve determined that your bond is more meaningful than on average. That hardly irks you; it’s a positive thing, in fact. It’s been good for you to have some kind of affection, even if the thought still makes you want to roll your eyes. It’s what’s just beyond that affection that’s causing an itching beneath your skin when the three of you ‘hang out’, as you so often do. That itching, those crawling little mites figuratively burrowed under your skin- it’s all been prevalent in your interactions over the past weeks.
Go over the facts, then, Logan. 
Fact one: You aren’t used to intimate friendships.
Fact two: You have established an intimate friendship with Roman and Virgil
Fact(?) three: Roman and Virgil’s intimacy with each other is quickly turning away from ‘friendship’.
This brings you to the evidence, which gets a little fuzzier; some conclusions might have been jumped to, but you find that irrelevant.
Evidence (?): They share these Looks. A Look when Roman says something abhorrently stupid, but when Virgil jumps to insult him he sounds nothing but adoring. A Look when Virgil comes up with a particularly creative biting remark, and while Roman is just as quick to fire back with a playful tease of his own, there’s that obvious elated expression of pride that he holds just for the anxious trait. 
That on it’s own wouldn’t amount to much, you’ll admit, but you’ve always been a careful observer of body language (out of necessity, given how words fail you when there’s subtext to be found). Their hands brush frequently, to the point where it cannot possibly be incidental. They not-so-subtly lean into each other when they probably think you aren’t looking- though perhaps you shouldn’t be looking anyway. While you are well-accustomed to platonic physical affection in not only your relationships with the two of them, but with all of your ‘coworkers’ (the bulk of it coming from Patton and Remus, predictably), Virgil and Roman’s physical affection exudes such romantic tension that you’re surprised Roman himself isn’t going haywire, because of the overload of feelings that fall into his area of expertise.
Your third piece of evidence comes from just last night. You’d returned from the kitchen, arms loaded with snacks for you all to share, only to find Roman threading his fingers through Virgil’s hair while the embodiment of anxiety carefully sketched on a folded sheet of paper. Virgil’s eyes had flicked up briefly, widening when he saw you as though you hadn’t only left the room for seven minutes and twenty-three seconds.
“Oh, hey,” he greeted with a tiny wave. Something odd and envious and just a bit bitter simmered in your chest, but you denied it whatever it seemed to be hissing for. You gave your friend a nod, setting down the food you’d brought onto the coffee table and seating yourself a good few feet from him and Roman on the couch. 
“V and I got bored waiting,” Roman explained, “So we’re doing a little art collaboration. The rule is that we aren’t allowed to see what the other one draws until it’s done!” He seemed enthusiastic about the game, and Virgil was clearly invested in his work. You saw no reason to interrupt them, quietly deeming your original plan to watch blue planet together defunct. But you could still contribute to this new activity! You knew plenty of art history, thankfully.
“There’s actually a name for that- it’s called Exquisite Corpse. The term was coined by surrealist artists in 1925.”
Roman waved his hand, almost dismissive, and your heart- figuratively- sank. 
“Yeah, yeah, in Paris, I already know. Yves Tanguy, Marcel Duchamp, et cetera et cetera. Art’s my whole thing, remember? Do you wanna play or not?”
“Oh, I- I don’t care for drawing,” you have never understood and will likely never understand most forms of visual art. 
Roman shrugged, but before he could respond Virgil was folding up the piece of paper and handing it to him, blank side up. The vigilant trait pushed his bangs back and shook out his shaggy hair, which stuck up at odd angles due to Roman’s tangling.
“Whatever you want, L. You can put on that documentary you were talking about now,” Virgil said, reaching for the food piled up on the table. Your first instinct had been to agree, of course, and get back to the original plan for the day. As you took the remote, however, you couldn’t help but notice just how close they sat, plenty apart from you. It felt like a fitting analogy- and you’ve always had distaste for analogies.
“That’s alright,” a lie, “I’m feeling rather restless now- I think it would be best if I got some work done with this energy,” a half-truth. 
You’d left before they could respond, trying to ignore the envy seething under your skin. It didn’t even make sense- you hated having your hair touched! While the history was interesting, Surrealist art did nothing but frustrate you! You don’t like drawing games, or people’s hands on your face, for goodness’ sake. 
Presently, you stare up at your ceiling and reflect on your friendship, feeling it all start to click. You do not want it to click. You push your glasses up on your forehead and press the heels of your hands against your eyelids, soaking in the ache that results from the pressure. You’re so fucking sick of thinking, thinking, thinking- but the other option is leaving your room- which you’ll have to do very soon anyway- and interacting with other people.
It’s easier to handle with everyone else around to distract you, rather than just Virgil and Roman. Easier, but not easy. You groan, pushing yourself into a sitting position and letting your glasses fall back into place. You cannot just stew here forever, much as you’d like to.
Yet- It doesn’t make sense. You don’t want to see Virgil and Roman, sitting as close as they do now, dancing around each other so frustratingly. But you want to be around them so much that you feel you can’t help it, desperate to be caught between them like usual. But, no, you don’t!
You wish they could figure themselves out and actually get together, to save everyone the headache- but is that even really what you want? For them to officially be romantically involved, thereby distancing themselves from you even further? And then you’ll truly be the ‘third wheel’, as it were? 
What do you want, you ask yourself repeatedly.
  For things to go back to normal, you answer yourself. 
You shake your head, no, because what does that even mean? Do you want them to not have feelings for each other, just so they’ll pay more attention to you? Now that doesn’t add up at all, because first and foremost you want them to be happy. Happy, and also spending time with you as much as each other. Yes, that’s closer to the point, you think. You want that closeness to be equal between the three of you, that makes perfect sense. So, logically, it follows that what you want is-
What you want is… 
God, no, God, your eyes widen and your fists clench and, fuck, you almost shake as you try to hold back the encroaching realization.
You want-
There’s a knock at the door. 
You breathe shakily, your hands tensing and untensing. There’s a knock at the door. The door of your room, because you are in your room, sitting on your bed. You’re here, and now, and you can breathe.
Dazedly, you stand, moving as though you’re wading through honey. You swallow back whatever feelings had been building in you only for the moment. You aren't willing to actually harm yourself by repressing them, merely holding them at the reigns in order to actually function enough to talk to whoever’s come knocking.
You click the door open, pulling it back to see a worried Patton. You are immeasurably relieved that it is him specifically.
“Heya, Kiddo. It’s been a while since any of us saw you today. I was just coming by to let you know we’re about to start picking a movie for tonight. Do ya feel up to joining us?”
That’s something you appreciate about Patton: he keeps in tune with others’ emotions with almost supernatural accuracy. Remarkably high-empathy being a power granted to him by his aspect, he knew when things were off, and he knew when someone did or did not want to talk about it. He didn’t barge up to your room and throw the door open with the enthusiasm he might usually express if he saw how you were uneasy, knowing that such an action could be overwhelming. Rather, he was checking in, quietly offering you an out if you needed it. 
But you’re about to directly contradict yourself about that appreciation! Because this means that you have to decide what you do; because you maybe kind of want to be forced to see your friends, rather than forcing yourself to avoid them. You aren’t exactly sure you have the strength to be around them on your own, but you can’t imagine a fate worse than isolation in the wake of this emotional discovery that you totally aren’t focusing on right now dammit answer Patton.
“Yes, I must have been a tad preoccupied today. I’ll be down in a moment,” the answer’s out before you think about it. You regret it, and also you don’t. 
Patton grins warmly at you, obviously relieved, and promises to wait for you to head down before they start. He disappears back through the hall and down the staircase in an instant, humming tunelessly as he walks.
It’s only after arriving downstairs that you become entirely sure that you’ve made the wrong choice. Roman is practically in Virgil’s lap, his head tilted into the facet’s neck while they playfully bicker with each other. When he spots you, his head shoots up, and he waves you over. In an amazing example of self-control, you sit one cushion away from the pair.
Throughout the night, you keep your eyes trained to the screen, trying to ignore however sappy Roman and Virgil get. You need space to think about this issue and find a way to solve it, and they need more space from their little tricycle anyway. 
The movies pass in a blur. You think Virgil tries to say something to you before you go upstairs, but you don’t catch it. Your ears are ringing.
<<<???>>><<<???>>><<<???>>>
It’s predictable as hell, considering his semi-self-isolation before The Incident, that Roman is desperate for attention. He’s, in the simplest terms, clingy as fucking fuck. Something that’s mildly less expected than that is just how little you mind it. If you’re honest, with all the hugs and brushes and small comforts, it kinda rocks. Which might be an odd way to describe emotionally and physically intimate friendship, but hey. Shut up. 
You and Roman’ve become a little attached at the hip because of this- though you hold tightly onto the excuse that it’s just cuz you want Roman to get the attention he needs, and totally not because you actually like the affection, too. You know the truth, though. The truth that it all… fulfills something in you, something that’s been craving attention that you didn’t even know about. It’s weird. Not bad, just weird.
You digress; the point is that you and Roman have a Thing With Touching, and that’s not exactly a shocker. Something you’re only recently coming to notice, however, is that this preference is one shared by your other closest friend, Logan. You could’ve sworn he’d be touch averse, and while he definitely has very specific boundaries (he wouldn’t tolerate touches to his hair, neck, or most parts of his legs), he’s exactly the opposite of averse, he’s just way too stubborn to initiate anything or admit it.
Who knew that only knowing a grand total of six other beings for your entire life- most of said beings disliking each other for a good portion of that life- would leave everyone involved more than a little touch-starved? 
Oh well. No time like the present to fix that, you figure. This is all just your long-winded way of saying that whenever you’re in the room with Logic or Creativity, you’re 99% guaranteed to have at least one point of contact with them. 
Which totally wouldn’t be a problem, if you weren’t falling irrevocably in love with both of them. But, unfortunately, you totally are. 
When everything started, it was just Logan. He was too considerate and too goddamn caring not to make you feel things, the bastard. He understands you, almost perfectly, all the time- even though people understanding you completely goes against your aesthetic- and you feel like you get him all the same. In a way, your love for him makes sense. It always has, really, all the way back when he gave you that first glimpse of friendship. It’s always been Logan.
And that all would be horrible enough on its own, but then Roman blind-sided you with his teary eyes and deeply-rooted insecurity. Neither of these are technically ‘attractive’ traits, but dammit if you didn’t find yourself sympathizing to a painful extent. You not only comprehended his (gradually lessening) pain, you’re also surprised to note just how badly you want to help him through it, if only because you knew that you really could help. You can’t bear to watch Roman suffer, because the both of you, despite all the differences, are exactly alike. You find sympathy in his sadness, and affection in his joy. 
It’s disgusting.
The plan was simple; you’d keep all the feelings inside, and then one day you’d die. You’d hold them all at bay and let the infatuation fade to a dull ache against your ribcage, settling into a bittersweet friendship with the two temperamental traits. It’s easy to push down when all six of you spend family time together, hell, you hardly break a sweat when it’s just the three of you, because you can just use one to deflect off the other! You are a fucking pro at ignoring your emotions.
Then movie night happened. You have no clue what specifically did happen, but you’ve managed to track the weird behavior back to that evening. Logan was stiff as a board all night, sitting as far as he could from you and Ro. He didn’t even look back at you when you tried to talk to him before he left. He didn’t answer the door when you tried to check on him later. 
To say that Logan hadn’t left his room since would be a gross oversimplification. Oh, he’s venturing out, alright, but strategically. He comes down for meals. He comes down when Patton, Remus, or occasionally Janus ask for him, indulging them without complaint. Sure, he’s conveniently busy whenever it’s you or Roman knocking, but he’s already done so much with everybody else that day. No one could be concerned, because clearly Logan wasn’t avoiding anything.
Yeah, bullshit. He’s just diverting everybody else’s suspicions, but you know him too well for that.
He doesn’t work in the commons anymore. He doesn’t rise up in the living room, accompanied with a laptop or a kindle or what have you, just to have the quiet company of someone else while he works. He doesn’t seek you out to explain something he read on Tumblr, and from the looks of it, he doesn’t attempt to infodump about poetry with Roman anymore. And the nail in this coffin is this: when you attempt to confront him, he plays dumb. Logan plays dumb.
Logan avoiding you means two things: 1. one of your most trusted friends who you’re absolutely besotted with won’t talk to you, which is its own special kind of agony- and 2. you spend the majority of your time totally alone with the other friend that you are in love with, which is obviously not ideal.
By this point, you are well-acquainted with the various personal problems of your ‘co-workers’. Statistically, at any given point at least one side is having some kind of an emotional crisis. You figure that it’s best to get a headstart on solving this one, before you can talk yourself out of it. 
But obviously you can’t do it alone.
“Roman.”
The side in question shrieks, spinning around hastily with wide eyes. You don’t even blink, staring him down from the kitchen doorway until he has the sense to stop screaming. He cuts himself off with a cough, clearing his throat and returning to whatever it was that he was doing. After an appropriate awkward silence, he shoots you a sheepish smile. 
“Oh, ha- I- I didn’t see you there, Virgil,” he huffs a tiny laugh, his mouth twitching. It’s such a soft little expression, a bit embarrassed but mostly- Dammit, Virgil, you’re here for a reason! Keep it together, you useless homosexual.
“I guessed that, yeah,” you trudge into the room, lifting yourself up onto the counter beside the stove. “How are you?”
He pauses for a moment. It’s a simple question, but the both of you understand its true significance. You’re expecting an honest, no-nonsense answer as to how he’s been feeling. It’s sort of a system, to help prevent all that bottling up of emotions that you’re all so used to. 
“I suppose I’m… a little out of it. I got rather caught up in sculpting for a good few hours,” as he explains, you notice him absently digging clay out from under his nails, “So I figured it was time for a lunch break.”
“Good,” you tell him, because it’s important that he hears things like that. He’s staring vacantly into the water that’s beginning to bubble on the stove, but you know he will return the check-in question to you in his own time. Technically, you could have just walked in and began with what you really wanted to talk about, but this method gives the conversation a more clear-cut structure. Greeting, followed by question-response, followed by question-response; it’s properly outlined. 
“What’s going on with you, then?”
“I feel like garbage,” you see him blink in surprise, but he waits politely for you to continue. “I’m worried. I mean- I'm usually worried, but in this specific circumstance, I’m worried about-”
“Logan?” He looks up when he says it, his gaze searching. 
“Yeah- um, yes. You noticed it, too?”
“Oh, please,” there's an obnoxious clanging as Roman idly swings around a slotted spoon, “I may not be as observant as you nerds, but you could stand to give me some credit.”
You settle him with A Look. He huffs.
“Okay fine! I only caught on when he… ugh, it's embarrassing, but we like to write. Together. On Wednesdays. But he’s been ditching.”
You already had a hunch about your friends’ little poetry sessions, as neither are particularly subtle about anything, at all, ever. It's super dorky, but it’s a very them thing to do. This development is concerning, to say the least.
“Wait, then why haven’t you brought it up?” 
Roman squirms a bit, clinking his slotted ladle against the stovetop repetitively. You regret the interrogative tone that found its way into your voice.
“I didn't want to be, you know, needy. He said he was busy- and like, it was a little sketchy when he was only busy when I wanted to hang out- but- I just assumed he’d maybe gotten bored with it. I didn’t want him to get even more distant with me, so I didn’t say anything.”
Well, okay, you totally fail at not being distracted by that. Scooching a little further down the counter, you bump Roman's hip with the side of your foot.
“Hey.”
He doesn't look up. 
“Roman.”
He groans, throwing his head back and glaring up at the cabinets.
“I know! Saying it out loud, alright, I know he wouldn't do something like that- it's just- I forget sometimes, Virge.”
You don't ask him to elaborate. He doesn't need to. He shifts away from the stove and drops his head onto your shoulder, leaning against you. 
“But if you've noticed it too, then something must really be wrong, huh?”
You give a short laugh.
“Yeah. He's upset about something, I can tell. It’s fuzzy, though, that’s the weirdest thing. It's like, I can feel the anxiety from, but it's being overpowered by something else in there. I have no idea what, so it's gotta be out of my jurisdiction.”
He hums curiously. 
“What’s the plan then? Drag him out of his room and make him hang out with us?” Roman's voice rumbles against your shoulder, and it's so comforting that you can't help but hook a leg around his waist to keep him near you.
“Great idea, I'm sure that he’ll really appreciate that,” your sarcasm (hopefully) takes the impact out of your downright cuddly nature. Roman is unfazed.
“That is literally what the both of you did to me mere months ago. I'd say that turned out pretty well, hmm?”
He tilts his head to the side, dragging out the hum with his face pressed against your neck. It's a concerted effort to snark at him instead of purring from the feeling. 
“I doubt that L would appreciate something like that, just because you- Jesus,” you cut yourself off when Roman fucking nuzzles you, ew gross- “Oh my fucking God, can you- prrr- can you st- prrrrr- stop for one second? You're- re- rerrrrrr- distracting me!” You push him off of you, feigning disgust. You don’t want to, but you have to at least try to stay on track.
He just chuckles, dropping away from you if only to take his food off the stove. 
“Sorry, sorry, it's just so hard to resist. You’re a kitten!”
“I know you're God-awful at genuine conversations, so I guess I'll let it slide this time.”
You see the offended look spread across his face, and hastily hold a hand up to interrupt.
“Logan.”
“Right, yes. Logan.”
“I mean, what would he say?” you drag your hand down your face, wracking your brain for any of his advice that you could apply to the situation. “He’d be all ‘the logical course of action would simply be to confront me, Virgil, because I am a stubborn little bitch and I will dance around the issue indefinitely,’” You nod, satisfied with both your impression and the conclusion it brought you to. Roman shoots you a comically wide grin.
“That was scary, how much you sounded like him.”
You shrug, offering a hum.
“So we should just… what? Walk up to his door, knock knock,‘what’s going on with you, man?’, and see what happens?”
“As crazy as it sounds, maybe this would be easier if we didn't prolong it for three weeks and complicate it like we do with everything else?”
There's a clatter as Roman struggles to reach the top cabinet for a bowl. You drop down from the counter, reach over his head, and hand it to him. 
“When you phrase it like that, I suppose it sounds obvious,” he takes the ceramic and fills it up- without a thanks, the bitch.
“Okay. We do that, then.”
“Okay.”
You hover in the kitchen, watching him grab his meal and begin to walk away. He tosses his head over his shoulder, giving you a look that you can't quite place. 
“Are you just going to wait there while I eat my lunch? We’ll go up in a few minutes, but I'd rather not pass out from lack of blood sugar in the middle of what's sure to be a whole production.”
“Oh- right.”
<<<???>>><<<???>>><<<???>>>
At your knock, there is absolutely no response from the other side of Logan’s door. You knock again- not so much as a footstep! You push down your immediate frustration at the nerve of him, knowing that you must keep your cool (but you also know that he has everyone’s knocks memorized; he knows it’s you!). 
You spare a glance to Virgil. He stares back at you, lip worried between his fangs, hands twisting themselves at his sleeves. He’s slouching so much that he looks nearly as short as you. 
“Is it… is it that bad?” your knuckles are still barely pressing against the inky-blue door, lingering. He nods. 
“Fuck, dude, whatever he’s feeling is intense. But, I can’t figure out what the hell it is,” he makes an attempt at whispering, but it sounds more like screeching TV static than anything. 
He’s in there, and Virgil isn’t the only one who can sense it. It’s electric; whatever Virgil isn’t picking up on seems to have fallen into your domain. Unfortunately, it must be one of your non-primary side functions, because you have no idea what the specifics are. You curse the fact that you aren’t nearly as in tune with these things as he, by design, is. 
“We gotta get in there, Roman.”
The use of your proper name startles you. You grind your teeth, turning his suggestion over in your mind a few times before shaking your head sharply.
“You were the one that said we needed a subtle approach, you- Virgil,” you catch yourself before a nickname slips out, trying to share in his sincerity for the moment.
He gives a shaky sigh.
“I- I know what I said, but- Fuck, Ro, it’s bad.”
Now, it may be just because you’re a contrary bitch, but you have flipped on your original stance as well, leaving the both of you at odds. The worse this feels, the more you need to hesitate. If he’s avoiding you- both of you, the mini-him in your head reminds you, mind your mental filtering- then there's a reason for it. A reason to do with anxiety and you, which could easily be the ‘passion’ part of you, and that gives the strong implication that he’s deeply angry and hurt. In which case, you know that you could easily do something to make it much worse. You are very good at saying the wrong thing.
And so. You stare blankly at his door. Immobile.
Virgil elbows you.
You wrap your knuckles against the door and send him a glare. He groans, ramming his shoulder into yours.
“Okay, Roman, out of the way-”
“I’m getting some bad vibes-”
“Yeah, me too, that's kind of the point!”
“Well, there’s no reason to get snippy!”
“I don’t need a reason anyway, now move-” 
At a light shuffling from behind the door, you both snap your mouths shut. It’s dead silent as you wait, more patient than you've ever been before, as the muffled footsteps draw closer to the door. They stop just short of it, and for a moment you don't breathe.
“I can hear you,” came a muffled, barely-audible rasp. 
You fall against the door at once, pressing the side of your face into its cool surface. Virgil appears beside you, his claws suspended just above the knob. They hover like he’d be burned if he touched it. His voice is carefully measured, and he nearly sounds normal when he speaks.
“L, buddy, can you let us in? Can we talk?” 
You nod along, realize that he cannot see you, and then enthusiastically proclaim your agreement with the statement instead.
There's a long pause. You fear that Logan’s left again.
“Is this… necessary?”
“I’d really like to know why you aren't talking to us, so yeah,” you try not to snap, you really do, but you can tell that you’ve failed as soon as the words leave your mouth. You hope he'll understand how you really meant it. 
There's a sigh, and yet another silence. Virgil makes eye-contact with you, face twisted up with concern.
“It was not my intention for you to think me angry with you, if that's what you’re worried about.”
“That’s not it, Lo,” well, Virgil can speak for himself, because you were kind of worried about that. “I know something's going on. I know you.”
“Virgil,” his voice sounds much clearer, closer, as though he's pressed against the doorframe like yourself, “Virgil, your voice.”
“Don't know if you can tell, man, but I'm pretty anxious right now. And I know that not all of it is mine.”
At the next lapse, you don't wait for Logan to speak.
“Specs, hey, listen to me: I don't have a clue what's going on-” you let yourself smile, knowing that he can hear it in your voice, “Which is kind of my usual state, really- but the point is, it doesn't matter. We're here for you, no matter what. The three of us- best friends, right? Bee-eff-effs.”
“Best friends forever,” he mutters.
“Ah! I’m glad you agree!”
“No- it’s- I was correcting you, abbreviations have no place in verbal conversation- especially in place of simple phrases such as that one.”
“There he is,” Virgil chuckles, the distortion finally edging out of his throat. 
Logan sighs. You hear a bump.
“I suppose, if you two are really so concerned,” the lock clicks, “Then it would only be hypocritical of me to refuse to speak with you on this matter, given how I encourage you to do the opposite almost constantly,” the knob twists, pushes forwards an inch, halts abruptly, “Although… I can’t promise you full transparency. I don’t- I don’t think I’m quite ready for that conversation.”
Well that is ominous. But, then again, progress is progress.
You step back, and the door swings open. 
You fail to stifle your gasp.
Logan stands in the doorway, his head up, spine straight, and his hands behind his back- his usual stance. The posturing does nothing, however, to hide just how bloodshot his eyes are behind his glasses. He trembles, almost, when he looks from you to Virgil, and then back again. As soon as you meet his gaze, he glances down to the carpet, tapping his foot on the floor compulsively. It’s a state you’ve seen him in plenty of times, but the knowledge that this time you were somehow responsible for it pushes daggers under your skin. 
“Well,” he falters, “Come in, I suppose.”
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firstdegreefangirl · 4 years
Text
Eddie Week Day Six: We Are Family
Word Count: 1241
Original Pub Date: 20 June 2020
Relationships: Firefam. It’s just the firefam. Hints of Buddie, but you gotta squint REAL HARD.
Read on ao3 here
I’ll stop tagging when my friends stop being amazing: @eddiediazweek, @hearteyesforbuck, @rebeccaofsbfarm, @thisissirius, @hearteyesforbuck, @dramamineontopofme, @twinien, @meloingly, @myemergence
“OK, is everybody here?” Bobby rolls up onto his toes and wiggles his pointer finger as he counts to himself, moving his lips as he looks around the group of firefighters milling around outside the station.
Not that he really needs to count, Eddie thinks. There’s only eight people on the crew, counting the alternates who rotate in and out so everyone can have days off.  
“Everybody’s here, Bobby.” Athena sighs from her position behind the camera. “Just like they were last time you checked. Now can you all just line up in front of the trucks and take the damn picture?”  
Eddie stifles a laugh at the way Athena rolls her eyes when Bobby tries to argue with her, and follows everyone else into a single-file line. They’re far enough down the driveway for the firetruck and ambulance to show in the background, just the way Bobby had sketched out – yes, on a whiteboard and everything – when he’d pitched the idea to the team.
A team picture, he’d explained, would increase morale around the station, serve as a visual reminder that they’re all working together toward the same goal. And if they put it on display, then anyone who stops by the station will know the people who are protecting them when things go wrong.  
It had taken a decent amount of cajoling (and the promise of his famous pecan bars), but he’d finally convinced everyone to put on their dress uniforms and let the LA sun beat down on them for a photo. Athena and May are behind the camera, in charge of making sure that everyone looks their best. Bobby’s already told everyone how to line up – shortest on one end, tallest on the other – and they’d taken two hours to wash the trucks this morning, making sure everything is sparkling clean.
(Chimney had almost gotten himself saddled with a month of bathroom duty when he pointed out that the back of the truck isn’t even going to be in the picture, so there really wasn’t any reason to re-wax all the chrome parts until they reflected the sun.)
They line up, the shutter clicks twice, and when Athena steps back from the viewfinder, everyone relaxes.  
They’re done, the picture is taken. Not completely painless, but easy enough.  
Until May looks up, sets her coffee down and slides her sunglasses up to the top of her head.
“Really? That’s it? You’re only taking one photo? Bobby, you’re sure you don’t want something more creative?”
“Well …” Everyone freezes, the last flicker of hope that they might be able to go change back out of their dress uniforms fading right before their eyes. “I suppose it might be a good idea to have a few options.”  
That’s all the permission May needs to step forward and start arranging people. Eddie would be willing to put money down that she’s the one organizing her friends for pictures when they hang out, as easily as she seems to picture who would look best where.  
When she’s finished, nudging Athena out of the way so she can check her work through the camera’s lens, Bobby is standing between him and Buck, with an alternate on either side of them. Hen, Chimney and Tommy make up the front row, kneeling with their hands folded on their thighs.
May presses the shutter button, but looks up.
“Don’t get up. Chim, turn a little bit more toward Tommy. Bobby, relax. Shoulders don’t belong in your ears. Eddie … stop doing that thing with your face.”
“What?” He doesn’t think he’s doing a thing with his face. “I’m not doing a thing with my face.”  
“Yes, you are.” Chimney doesn’t even look up as he’s shuffling closer to Tommy.
“You’re not even looking!”
“I trust May.”
“Good,” she smirks at Chimney. “Now turn back out a smidge. You went too far.”
“Chimney Han, don’t you roll your eyes at my daughter.” Athena glares at him and Hen starts laughing. “Henrietta, you’re next. You think I forgot what you said after that merlot the other night?”  
Hen stops laughing, and Eddie tries to figure out what to do about his face while May leans back down to the viewfinder.
“Hang on, it’s all wrong.” She stands back up. “I can’t see the top of the truck.”  
Everyone groans when she picks the tripod up and starts walking backward. After a few feet, she sets it down, checks the angle again and repeats the process until she’s satisfied with the camera placement.  
“Better?” Bobby leans forward, like he’s trying to see the reflection in the glass of the lens.
“Better,” May confirms. “But you’re all too far away now. Stay just like you are, but forward a few feet.”  
Everyone shuffles forward, and Hen reaches around to swat Chimney on the back of the head when he starts whining about a piece of gravel digging into his knee.
“Hush, we don’t need any reasons to stay down here longer!”
Eddie feels time slow down as May leans forward over the camera and positions her finger on the shutter button. All at once, four things happen.  
Bobby rolls his eyes, opening his mouth to tell Hen and Chim to cut it out so May can take the picture. Buck rears back, sucks in two short breaths and sneezes so hard that Eddie’s first instinct is to fear for his health.
Tommy's first instinct, on the other hand, is to reach back and make sure that nothing from Buck’s sneeze landed on his head, while he turns around to glare. Chimney starts laughing, and Eddie’s pretty sure he’s doing whatever face-thing May had told him to change.
Then the shutter clicks and May recoils to stare at the group in horror. She presses a couple of buttons, then waves Athena over to peer at the tiny screen with her. They’ve hardly looked at the image when Athena steps back and doubles over, laughing so hard that there are tears running down her face and she’s gasping for breath.  
She finally stands up, but her shoulders are still heaving when she wheezes out a reaction.
“Well, anyone who sees this picture is going to know exactly what kind of firefighters they’re getting when they call the 118: damned fools.”
Eddie is so taken aback by her response that he starts laughing too, and the whole moment seems to be infectious enough that everyone joins in. Before long, they’re all howling, leaning on each other and wiping their cheeks.  
None of them are paying attention, so nobody sees May lean into the camera again, nobody hears the shutter click.
But a few weeks later, when Bobby gets the frame hung up on the wall in the garage?
It’s a perfect representation of their team, exactly how they act when the camera isn’t turned on them. When Bobby hands 4x6 copies around to everyone (plus prints of the picture right before it, which Eddie honestly likes even more), Eddie mentally starts clearing room for it on the shelf in his living room, right next to Christopher’s latest school picture and a snapshot of the two of them with Buck at the arcade.
When he gets home that night and fishes a frame out of the hall closet, the picture fits in perfectly with the others: a tiny tribute to the most important people in his life: his son, his Buck and his team.
17 notes · View notes
itsclydebitches · 4 years
Text
RWBY Recaps: “A Night Off”
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So RWBY has this weird thing going on in Volume 7 where it’ll give me a truly horrendous episode and then manage to turn things around just enough so that, despite my frustrations, I quite like parts of the next week’s stuff. That proceeds to get my hopes up, only for them to turn around mess it all up again in the following episode.
What I’m saying is, I should expect next week to be a pretty rough ride.
First, let me chuck out the details I personally loved in this episode that fit better together than spread out across a recap. Namely, treating Oscar like an actual human being. Thank you, Rooster Teeth, for:
Having him continually be involved by monitoring Jaune’s aura levels. (It likewise hasn’t escaped my notice how much he’s been paired with JNR lately. The fandom might get their new ‘P’ after all.)
Giving Oscar some thoughts and feelings beyond just the Ozpin situation. He’s worried about not having his semblance yet. Hark! A characterization!
Nora very kindly firing back with, “Well, I bet we’ll all be jealous when you do.”
Yang using Oscar as a convenient armrest. Granted, Yang hasn’t exactly treated him well enough lately to have earned that kind of casual buddy-buddy-ness, but if the writing is never going to call the group out on their Volume 6 behavior then I’ll take unearned kindness over continued indifference or cruelty
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Jaune going out to the movies with Oscar and them both inviting Weiss. I mean, same issue here. Why is Oscar so comfortable and eager to hang out with the guy who attacked him? I wish that we had some acknowledgment that these kinds of things don’t just disappear once someone apologizes. Jaune still hurt Oscar, badly enough to leave him flinching against a wall... and none of that even takes into account Oscar’s supposed hesitation about lying to Ironwood. He should be acting more like Ren, involved with the group yet wary at the same time.
In addition, keep in mind that Oscar is currently living in this happy bubble where everyone has chosen to forget that Ozpin exists. I’m still highly suspicious of how they’ll treat him once Ozpin is out in the open again and Oscar is the convenient scapegoat for their anger. As said though, for now I’ll take it. I mean, look at that smile.
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Right. Onto the actual plot.
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We open on the aftermath of the Mantle riots, which is somewhat disappointing. I had hoped the group would actually be involved in that, giving them the chance to tackle a situation where brute force can’t be the go-to answer. You can’t punch out desperate citizens or run them through with your scythe. Instead, Ironwood’s men are handling it and we reconvene with the group the next day, election day. For the record, we know it has only been a day---and not longer rioting as I initially assumed---because Weiss comments that her father dropped that bombshell “the day before the election.” Which for me just speaks to how much time must have passed during those training montages. The political parts of this volume couldn’t have happened in any short amount of time. 
We’re shown an interview with Hill wherein she quite firmly doesn’t condone the rioting, but admits that there are good reasons for it as well. Her body guard stands very awkwardly in the background in a way I don’t think the shot really needs.
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We then segue back into the group training and, like I mentioned above with Oscar, there are a lot of details here that I really enjoyed. Two of which are Weiss creating a mini version of her knight to sneak up on Winter---yes, please show us this kind of creativity in the actual fights---and Nora and Jaune practicing with a rubber ball. Ren is also deep in meditation while all this going on, which raises some questions about how aware of the world he is in this state. Is he able to simply ignore all the commotion, even Ruby flying straight at him? Is he so deep down that he’s entirely disconnected until he resurfaces? If so, does he only meditate like this when he’s 100% sure he’s in a safe place? Would the group be able to wake him if something were to happen?
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As you can see, I’m obviously a little too invested in details and world building lol.
Speaking of world building though, we learn a little bit more about semblances here. Namely that, like hinted at in Volume Five and recently with Harriet, all their semblances are “evolving.” Jaune can apparently regenerate his own aura now, much more quickly than he could before. And Ruby...
Okay, real talk. Did I miss something here? It’s entirely possible I did, but if not what even was that conversation between Ruby and Oscar? She flies at the pillar Ren is seated under, divides into three rose petal clusters to get around it, and recombines on the other side. You know, the thing we’ve known she can do for a long while now. Since Volume Four I believe. Except then we get this exchange:
Oscar: Have you always been able to do that?
Ruby: I don’t know. I don’t normally think it through that much.
What are you talking about? Of course you know, Ruby! This isn’t a new technique. And what do you mean by, “I don’t normally think it through that much”? Is the writing trying to imply that she’s done the split thing so instinctively in the past she didn’t even notice she was doing it? I’m just massively confused by this moment. Others have pointed out that the writing tends to make up easy to solve “problems” for the cast to deal with so it looks like they’re achieving some kind of growth. The most egregious example being Ruby’s lack of hand-to-hand in Volume 5, culminating in a single headbutt against Mercury. Notably, this supposed flaw hasn’t resurfaced at all since then. Not even, say, when she’s at a party without her weapon and Tyrian attacks...
This feels like another moment where they just threw out something random to make it look like Ruby is improving alongside with the other, actual developments they’ve managed to think through, such as Jaune’s aura. Which is particularly strange considering Ruby was set up as the one to evolve her semblance. Which will probably still happen... but why paint an old skill as new along the way? It’s just all very strange.
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Anyway, we get a nice shot of Ren coming out of his meditation where the whole world is gray like when he activates his semblance. Excellent visual cue as to his emotional state. This continues as Ironwood arrives and the group lays into him about needing to trust Hill. Which is hilarious considering that none of them are currently trusting Ironwood. He points out that common ground can only exist “if she’s open too”---unlikely given the second half of the episode---and Nora is about to challenge that when Ren interrupts, asking about mission assignments. Ironwood announces that they’re getting the night off instead.
Note though how guilty Ruby looks after all that talk of trusting others.
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We cut to the girls later that night in their room, listening to the election news and getting ready to go out. It’s all very cute, but I think Nora is onto something regarding how Blake and Yang are always together. It’s so blatantly obvious they’re falling for one another, especially after this episode, and I’m honestly thrilled we’re finally getting some queer rep beyond former villains and minor characters. However, I hope that as Blake and Yang’s relationship develops that the writers don’t completely lose track of their co-dependency issues as well. Meaning, Yang totally wrote Blake off because she “ran away,” AKA went home precisely like Yang did, warping a natural and understandable choice into a personal betrayal. Blake in turn broke down sobbing and promised Yang to never ever leave her again. Separation is not a new issue for them. Their desire to spend every waking moment together is definitely cast as romantic now, but it’s also tied up in their inability to function well without each other. As we saw recently, a throwaway comment about fighting with someone else generates legitimate anger in both of them. Couples have to be able to spend time apart, so I hope the writing eventually lets the girls work through all that as well. 
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For now though, they’re going dancing with FNKI. Very bad dancing based on what little we see. It’s enough to convince Weiss that the movies are her best choice here. Especially since she’s clearly not interested in Hill’s preemptive victory party. We see a tiny bit of that tension between Weiss’ views and Nora’s, but nothing with any substance. We just keep getting tiny glimpses that Nora is potentially passionate about the people of Mantle before it’s all quickly overshadowed by her romance drama with Ren. More on that in a moment.
The two of them plus Ruby make their way out into the streets where Ren admits that, “We spent so much time worrying about how Ironwood would react to the truth about [Salem], but have any of us even considered how we’re going to beat her if we work past that?”
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Ruby reminds them that Jinn told Ozpin he couldn’t destroy her. Nora: “Maybe someone else could?”
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It only took you weeks to figure that out! Though I love how this still---still---apparently has no bearing on how they view Ozpin. This was another perfect, quiet moment where three characters, notably three of the least angry characters, could have acknowledged how terrifying this information is. How they still can’t bring themselves to tell Ironwood, a man who thus far has done nothing but support them. Wow, I totally get why Ozpin would have trouble telling us. Oh also, we just realized that maybe Jinn’s information was specific to him. Maybe someone else can destroy Salem. That’s a pretty big revelation. I wonder if Ozpin himself realizes that? We should probably try to talk to him at some point.
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It’s while they’re talking about the heavy stuff that Ren mutters about how they should still be training. Nora counters that they deserve a night off and the two of them clash enough to walk off angry. We see now at least part of what’s been bothering Ren lately. Nora is a very bubbly, silly, go-with-the-flow sort of person, whereas he is hyper focused on becoming as strong as possible in the hopes of finding a way out of this Salem mess. He doesn’t want to hear compliments while searching for a geist, or have her playing with his hair while on patrol, or turn training into a conversation about their relationship, or waste time on frivolous parties. There’s obviously a happy medium between Ren’s work ethic and Nora’s relaxed attitude, though they haven’t worked through that at all because they’re too busy kissing. Again, more on that in a second.
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They reach the party, Penny is there, Nora and Ren dive into another fight that serves to canonize both them and Blake/Yang. Nora comments about how they’re spending so much time together, Ren observes that they’re at least friends again, and the response is,
Nora: “Friends, huh? Just friends?” Ren: “What else would they be? Nora: “Two people who have gone through so much? I think there’s more going on...”
It’s clear at this point that Nora is talking about them rather than Yang/Blake, but the initial comparison holds. Though she uses them as an in to discuss her own relationship, I doubt she was lying here. She clearly views them as a parallel to her and Ren: two partners who have been through a great deal together and, as a result, have grown to love each other as more than just friends. Those who insist that Rooster Teeth isn’t heading in a Blake/Yang direction don’t have much of a leg to stand on anymore. That ship (ha) has long since sailed. 
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Ruby sneaks away from their fight though nothing terribly exciting happens. She adorably clings to Penny’s arm. They adorably fist-bump (ouch). Marrow and Hill get into a conversation about making change and whether or not she’ll accomplish that within the bounds of the law. Funny... I thought we saw that very same theme last volume. If only the writing acknowledged that there’s a connection between this conversation and our protagonists. We’re supposed to see both sides of the situation here: Hill’s need to bend the rules once in a while and Marrow’s desire to keep the peace; how the law is a man-mad construct that’s far from perfect and the importance of making change in a way that will stick---namely, legally. Here is a complex look at a morally difficult question and notably both Marrow and Hill are minor characters. It’s only when RWBYJNR is involved that the message moves from ‘Each side has a point’ to ‘Teens are 100% justified in breaking the law and anyone trying to stop them is an evil, crazy racist.’
It honestly astounds me that Rooster Teeth can give us that subtly here but never when it comes to our heroes.
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When Ruby finally returns she finds Ren and Nora still fighting. As she snuck off we heard Ren admitting---in the round-about way of theirs, pretending that they’re talking about other people---that he’s worried, there’s a lot going on right now, and basically implying that he doesn’t know how (or doesn’t want) to balance a new relationship on top of all the horrific Salem business. Which, fair. The problem is that they don’t discuss this. Hill’s speech about how they’re always stronger together resonates with Nora and she tries to initiate a conversation, asking Ren to explain more fully what’s bothering him. To talk about it. He admits that talking has never been his strong suit.
I expected this to segue into a cliche, “Well try” moment and we’d finally get Ren and Nora bonding outside of their jokes and silent communication. Sadly, that didn’t happen. Look, I’m all for a renora kiss, but we have got to stop portraying sexual assault as romantic. Because that’s what Nora does here. It doesn’t matter how sure she (or we as the audience) are that Ren will like this kiss in the end. Grabbing someone and kissing them without their consent is sexual assault. Ren has not agreed to kiss her. He hasn’t expressed any desire here to kiss here. He’s completely blindsided by it and is flailing before he gives in.
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People will justify this because, again, we all “know” that Ren secretly wants it and will be grateful that Nora got him past his fear. But that’s a terrible message to perpetuate in a world where others insist they also “know” when someone “really” wants them (they don’t) and where kissing or sex is seen as an easy way to supposedly solve problems between a couple. How many times have we seen an angry woman in media essentially told to shut up by a guy kissing her? The message is that her thoughts and grievances aren’t important here. The man knows her better than she knows herself and the second her forces her to start kissing him she realizes that’s really all she needed all along. That trope isn’t redeemed by changing the gender dynamic. Ren clearly has problems with their relationship that he’s struggling to work through. Nora clearly recognizes as much. Yet instead of acknowledging them and overcoming them, she erases any potential development by forcing him into a kiss. I’m sorry, it doesn’t matter how much Ren enjoys it a few seconds in. The continued message that forcing sexual intimacy on someone will fix both their hesitation and your relationship problems has go to stop. Kissing Nora doesn’t magically solve whatever it is Ren has been grappling with for the last six episodes. You know, the stuff they were just arguing about.
Once again, RWBY succeeded in giving me something I wanted, but in a way that severely downplays that enjoyment. I wanted a renora kiss, but not without consent and as a way of ignoring their issues. I wanted more focus on Ren and Nora as a whole this volume, but it would be nice if their characters could exits outside of each other some. Like the criticisms against Blake and Yang, Ren and Nora seem to be a package deal. They don’t fight with anyone else. They don’t go to different activities (why can’t Ren continue training if he’s that focused on it? Let Nora vent her feelings to a friend while he’s gone). They don’t interact with Ruby when they’re out with her. Their arc, it seems, doesn’t exist outside of each other. Which I suppose is better than no development at all, but still.
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From then on things devolve rather quickly. While Hill continues her speech---and we see the ever closing gap between her and Jacques---Ruby gets a quick look at Tyrian’s tail before Watts turns out the lights. From there Tyrian proceeds to murder so many people, including attacking Fiona and going after Hill. All the while Ruby and Penny struggle to attack, despite the fact that Penny clearly has night vision and hangs back too long, obviously for plot purposes. It’s when she finally gets him away from Hill that Watts turns the lights back on, making it look like Penny had attacked the crowd and Hill was defending herself from her. I’ll admit, making Penny suitably creepy during the battle helps sell it.
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Man do I hate framing plot-lines though. Not in a ‘Rooster Teeth shouldn’t have done this’ sense, just that it hurts to watch people react so badly based on a misunderstanding. This setup works best when there’s no one to refute the assumption. Yet here we have Ruby who absolutely saw Tyrian there, Penny who absolutely saw him with her night vision, Marrow who just made a connection with Hill and took the time to insist, “This wasn’t us, I swear,” etc. We’ve even got really basic stuff like, does Penny have blood all over her blades? Yet based on Hill’s look, all the evidence against Penny being the attacker isn’t going to do much good. Which makes for a more frustrating experience than a sad, yet understandable one.
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We end with Jacques thanking everyone for his victory, rigged by Watts. Watts uploads the video of the attack, which has presumably either been altered in some way or just shows Penny in that damning position with her weapons out. If the former, that would at least go a long way towards explaining the inevitable backlash against her. An angry mob in the heat of the moment is one thing, but if Watts is looking to convince the entirety of Atlas that Ironwood is using his robot---a robot the people seem to currently love---to take out his competition, a doctored video of Penny attacking innocent people is far more persuasive. For both them and us the audience, wondering why everyone is this gullible. So far we’ve gotten some truly excellent villainy this year. Let’s continue that with them thinking ahead. 
At the very least this should (should) provide us with some excellent development for Penny. She’s long struggled with her status as a robot and being the defender of Atlas seems to have helped her come into herself. Having others accept her differences as a boon will do that. Now that she’s labeled as nothing more than a dangerous weapons again? We should see some inner conflict. The writing didn’t let her or anyone else grapple with her death. For the love of everything, at least let Penny grapple with this. 
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Finally, Ruby and the others are forced to spend the night defending the city from a ton of grimm. Seriously, take in how many grimm showed up because of an election. Now think about what will happen if Ironwood announces Salem’s existence... I don’t think the cast is admitting to themselves precisely how many lives they’d be sacrificing by pulling that stunt. Ironwood at least (as far as we know) truly thinks he has a shot at winning the war. Ruby has no excuse at this point, with the exception that telling people about Salem is just plain hard.
Insert standard ‘Ozpin was right and they’re being hypocrites’ meta here.
And that’s it, folks! Issues aside, an all around better episode than some of the others we’ve gotten this season. Based off of experience it’ll be a small miracle if RWBY manages to keep that up next week.
Until then 💜
Minor Things of Note
All the people who were arrested the day of the election... do they get to vote? I know Watts rigged things, but potentially keeping everyone that furious with Ironwood from deciding who will oppose him on the council won’t exactly look good... especially combined with the Penny situation. Not that I think RWBY would actually introduce that as a complication. Just a thought.
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Another extremely nit-picky thing, but it’s hilarious to me how bare the girls’ room is. Obviously there’s little time or inclination to animate personal items, even the few they have, but it kind of looks ridiculous to have this sterile space with one mirror and one tube of mascara. Here are the exact things we need for this scene and nothing more! I do like that shot in the mirror though.
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Fiona getting teary-eyed over Hill being on the council was beautiful. I barely know them, but I like these two.
I’m just gonna post this again... 
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62 notes · View notes
midnight-writing · 3 years
Text
ᴛ ᴇ ᴍ ᴘ ʟ ᴀ ᴛ ᴇ
ʙ ʏ
dog dad
╭──────────────────╮
s ᴛ ᴀ ᴛ ᴜ s • Completed
ᴛ ʀ ɪ ɢ ɢ ᴇ ʀ s • Death, light amount of blood within images, mention of bullying, and mental disorders.
ғ ᴀ ᴄ ᴇ ᴄ ʟ ᴀ ɪ ᴍ • Maddie Hasson
╰──────────────────╯
───────
ᴄ ᴏ ɴ ᴛ ᴇ ɴ ᴛ s ˎˊ˗
i Teaser
ii Name iii General
iv Appearance v Personality
vi Health vii Combat
viii Stats ix Background
x Relations xi Roleplay Info
xii Author’s Notes
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❝I’m not great at the advice can I interest you in a sarcastic comment?❞
—Chandler Bing, Friends
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ᴏ ᴄ �� ᴇ ᴀ s ᴇ ʀ ˎˊ-
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Girl On Fire
“There is a girl
She is wise
and wary of flames
but still, she knows
she will survive the fire
life scorches sometimes.
she has been a phoenix before
and every time
she burns to ashes
she knows
exactly how to rise
again.
She carries
destruction grief
carved river deep in her bones
specializes in
wrecking ball
knows how to bring
the whole thing down
surveys the broken
claims it as wholeness
and names it all good
she knows well
the holy necessity
of beginning again.”
-Jeanette LeBlanc
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ɢ ᴇ ɴ ᴇ ʀ ᴀ ʟ ˎˊ-
──────────────
—full name
Kallel Hope Hartman
People don’t bug her too much about her name, besides about it being a rarer name.
—meanings
[Kallel] Laurel, Keeper of the Keys.
[Hope] The feeling that a desire will be fulfilled.
[Hartman] Strong man.
—aliases
Kallie. This is what she goes by since she’s not a huge fan of her full first name, everyone calls her this except her step mom.
Kal. Something her best friend Caleb calls her and sometimes her dad does too, there’s no reasoning behind it and she doesn’t mind it.
—age
16. She can be a bit immature at times, but most of the time she acts about her age.
—gender
Female. She was born this gender and has never really thought about changing it.
She/Her
—birth
June 6th in Minneapolis Minnesota. Gemini.
—species
Demi-god
—Godly-Parent
Nike. The Greek Goddess of Victory
—attraction
Bisexual and Biromantic
❝Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.❞
—Victor Hugo, Les Misérables
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ᴀ ᴘ ᴘ ᴇ ᴀ ʀ ᴀ ɴ ᴄ ᴇ ˎˊ-
──────────────
Kallie is only a little smaller than average height for her age, she is 5’ 3”. She is on the thinner side weighing 110 lbs. She may be a bit thin but she’s fit and has a bit of strong muscle. She doesn’t eat a ton of junk and keeps active since she is on track team.
Her Hair is a light blonde and her eyes are hazel with a strong brown hue. Her hair is straight and soft, usually up in a messy bun or a ponytail. Her eyes are darker in color and she has under eye bags due to not getting enough sleep every night. Her eyelashes are of a medium thickness and length. She has 20/20 vision and has never needed visual assistance. Her eyebrows are thinner, slightly arched and about the same color as her hair.
Her skin doesn’t really have any freckles, or birthmarks, but she has a tiny dot near the left corner of her lips. She gets blemishes ever once in a while due to being a teenager, but does not use makeup to cover it up and normally doesn’t wear makeup at all. She has a thin scar of a line going from the bottom of her left ear towards her nose. Her hands and feet are smaller and thin due to being small boned. Her hands are in between soft and rough since she plays sports and sometimes works on cars, outdoor equipment, etc…
Kallie tends to wear shorts until it becomes way too cold to. She wears a lot of t-shirts, hoodies, flannels and ripped jeans. She mainly wears darker colors and more neutral tones, a lot of black, white, and gray. She rarely wears dresses, during formal occasions there’s a stronger chance of her wearing a feminine styled suit. She doesn’t care too much about her appearance and mainly focuses on comfort.
❝She wasn't looking for a knight, she was looking for a sword.❞
—Atticus
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ᴘ ᴇ ʀ s ᴏ ɴ ᴀ ʟ ɪ ᴛ ʏ ˎˊ-
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P E R S O N A L I T Y T Y P E
ENFP-T
ᴍ ᴀ ɪ ɴ ᴛ ʀ ᴀ ɪ ᴛ s
Stubborn | Sarcastic | Independent | Altruistic
Strong-willed | Outgoing | Curious | Absent Minded
Kallie can be very stubborn at times, if she does doesn’t want to do something she will or won’t, she doesn’t let peer pressure affect her too much unless it’s over something not serious that would affect her in the long run. Being strong-willed can connect to her stubbornness since when she wants to do something she will do it no matter how difficult a task or how long it takes her. She’s friendly and outgoing to most people as long as they don’t do anything to offend her, she tries to be friends with as many people as she can. Although she likes having friends, she can be by herself for a while and do things herself since she is independent and may not feel the need of another person to be present all of the time. Due to her being both curious and absent minded she can get distracted easily. Her mind will lead to something else and may throw her off task from time to time. She also tends to ask a lot of questions about unknown things due to her curiousness. Being altruistic or selfless leads her to put others before herself, if someone else needs help she is likely to put herself in danger to help them without being in ti to benefit herself.
She tends to tap on tables or her leg without realizing it along with picking at loose threads on her clothes, peeling paint on objects, or loose stickers. Picking at things tends to happen more often when she is nervous or in a stress inducing situation. When she is happy she tends to have energy and be talkative, which becomes stronger when she is excited, she’ll be more willing to socialize with someone who she may not like as much. The opposite will usually happen when she is sad or angry, she will become less energetic and less talkative, although she tries not to let a lot of negative emotions show since she doesn’t like bothering people with them or talking about her feelings. When in social situations like parties she tends to try and initiate conversation with people she doesn’t know well as long as they don’t seem to be in a sour mood or bothered by her. If it’s her friends she’ll speak to them no matter their mood and try to make them feel better.
Kallie is claustrophobic and does not like to be within small spaces that have no area to escape from, it isn’t as bad as some people have it since she is okay as long as there is a way to get out of the small space when she begins to panic. She has a slight fear of needles but it has dwindled as she has gotten older, she can’t look whenever they are used and sometimes needs a stress reliever, she won’t pass out but she will be quite anxious during the process. There’s no real cause for these fears within her past, she just has never liked small spaces or needles.
F A T A L - F L A W
ㅤOver confidence.
❝She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.❞
—Rainbow Rowell, Eleanor and park
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ʜ ᴇ ᴀ ʟ ᴛ ʜ ˎˊ-
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Kallie has only some visible muscles on her biceps, but she is fit and healthy. She has a flat stomach although with slightly defined abs. Overall her body is thinner since she is smaller boned and has a faster metabolism than most people. She also stays fit due to going to the gym at least once a week depending on her schedule, playing sports helps her stay fit too. She is also naturally more athletically bit due to her godly-parent. She tends to eat more snacks, but works them off.
Overall her skin is pretty clear of scarring, there are random small ones from working on things and playing outside when she was younger but she does have a thin scar of a line going from the bottom of her left ear towards her nose. She has no need for visual hearing assistance since both her eyes and ears function well.
Her immune system is pretty well and works as well as the average person, she gets sick every once in a while but due to her lifestyle being a bit healthier she tends to not catch the cold when it’s going around.
She has both Hyperactive-impulsive ADHD and Dyslexia due to being a Demi-god.ㅤ
❝Normality is a paved road: It's comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow on it.❞
—Vincent van Gogh
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ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ʙ ᴀ ᴛ ˎˊ-
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Kallie is pretty agile but her hits don’t do as much damage as she wished they did. She doesn’t really have an algorithm with how she fights someone yet, she just does whatever seems right at the moment and doesn’t really plan her hits. She usually only fights in self defense and usually is pretty lucky about how much damage she takes in a fight. She knows the basics of self defense since she has taken a couple classes in the past.
Kallie’s main weapons are her fists, pepper spray or anything else she can grab, but she rarely uses anything lethal. Once she is taken to Camp, her main weapon will become a celestial bronze sword, which she would find she has the most confidence in using.
❝It doesn’t matter what you are, it only matters what you do. It’s your choice.❞
—Sam Winchester, Supernatural
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s ᴛ ᴀ ᴛ s ˎˊ-
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sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ
8/10
She is on the stronger side due to the influence of her mot. She is a bit stronger than an average person her height and weight naturally would be. She wants to gain strength so she can feel more confident in defending herself when needed.
ᴘᴇʀᴄᴇᴘᴛɪᴏɴ
6/10
She is aware of what’s happening around her most of the time and has natural battle instincts, although since she becomes distracted easily she can lose track of events that are happening and what she is doing. She is okay at reading people’s emotions, most of the time she can interpret how they feel, but sometimes she may be oblivious.
ᴇɴᴅᴜʀᴀɴᴄᴇ
9/10
Her endurance is pretty high since she was always taught to be tough and keep going even when it gets difficult. She’ll get right back up after being down, both emotionally and physically. She can run for a while longer than the average person, especially in the case of meeting a goal.She can endure quite a bit of pain, though she’s also stubborn enough to keep going even if its a lot. Emotionally her endurance is pretty good also.
ᴄʜᴀʀɪsᴍᴀ
7/10
She does very well in social situations since she is an outgoing and friendly person. She’s also pretty good at fooling people when telling a lie. Most of the time people believe what she says since she’s not one to lie about anything that would hurt anyone. She’s not much of a flirt and can be slightly awkward when it comes to romance since she doesn’t think about romance often.
ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ
6/10
She is more street smart than book smart, her lowest grade being a C in math due to the trouble she has understanding the subject. She has mainly Bs in her other classes, she tends to get As in the more hands on classes that she has as electives. Though it’s difficult to keep her grades consistent since she has moved schools quite a few times.
ᴀɢɪʟɪᴛʏ
9/10
She is very quick and flexible and has always been. She participated in gymnastics when she was younger, leading her to be quite a bit more flexible than the average person. She is quicker too since she runs a lot and focuses on being faster when participating in track practice or a meet.
ʟᴜᴄᴋ
6/10
Her luck tends to be pretty good, it’s better than the average person due to her mother’s influence. When guessing she is more right than wrong most of the time, especially when guessing who’s going to win something. She does believe in luck and that 13 is her lucky number.
❝Being underestimated is one of the biggest competitive advantages you can have. Embrace it.❞
—Unknown
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ʙ ᴀ ᴄ ᴋ s ᴛ ᴏ ʀ ʏ ˎˊ-
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Kallie was born into a good environment, her family loved her and they had enough money to be comfortable. At a young age she learned about hard work since her parents didn’t give her an allowance unless she did her chores and didn’t misbehave too much, the same went for her siblings. She was a very active child, she had a lot of energy, and was always wanting to play inside or outside. She would often try and help her dad fix things around the house or in the garage. She could often be found taking clocks or random electronics apart to try and put them back together again, this led her to discover her hobby of tinkering.
In 1st grade when Kallie was 6 she was diagnosed with ADHD. She had been falling behind the other kids a little since she seemed to have attention problems. This caused her teacher to call her mother and talk about it. Soon Kallie was taken to a pediatrician and was diagnosed. Around the age of 6 she also discovered her love of videogames when she began playing games with her brothers when they let her.
She also learned the lesson of grieving and strength when she lost her mother at 8 years old. Carolina had died in a car crash due to a drunk driver, both drivers had died. It was difficult for her to lose her mother since she was very close to her and didn’t quite understand what had happened since she was younger,, but together as a family they supported each other.
Kallie joined a small dance team when she was 9 and managed to make quite a few friends on the team and school but eventually grew apart from a few as she moved on to middle school. During middle school she joined the track team and the lacrosse team. She quickly figured out she was pretty good at sports and was naturally athletic. Although she had found joy in the teams at school, she found a bit of struggle in academics due to her ADHD, especially within her math classes. She had also become a target for a few girls that would pick on her weight and grades, but her friends helped her cope with it.
Once she moved onto high school Kallie had lost a few more friends but still had multiple that she enjoyed spending time with. She also met Caleb freshman year when he moved to Minnesota from England. They quickly bonded and over the years became best friends. She had a boyfriend her sophomore year that ended in a bad breakup at the beginning of that summer. During her high school years she participated in track, swim, and lacrosse, along with the dance company she had been in for years. Being on that many teams kept her busy and also added to her struggles in school, but she didn’t really mind. The bullying continued throughout high school but gradually diminished.
After highschool Kallie moved into her own apartment and began college. She picked an engineering degree and worked at a local restaurant as a waitress. Her wage and tips were the main source of her income but sometimes she would work as a handyman within her apartment complex if the landlord didn’t come to fix something quick enough or she’d help fix people’s cars if she could.
ㅤ ❝She needed a hero so that’s what she became.❞
—Unknown
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ʀ ᴇ ʟ ᴀ ᴛ ɪ ᴏ ɴ s ˎˊ-
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m o t h e r
❝N/A.❞
status: [Unknown]
Nike left Steven (her father) as soon as she was born so she never knew her mother or knew that she was a goddess. Her father knew but had made the agreement to never tell.
f a t h e r
❝He may be forgetful sometimes, but he always has good intentions.❞
status: [alive]
Steve(n) and her were really close but they’ve gradually separated. He cares a lot about Kallie but sometimes work gets in the way of spending time with her. When Nike and him were together, he was apart of a city level hockey team, though now he is a business manager.
s t e p - m o t h e r
status: [alive]
❝Her and I don’t exactly see eye to eye.❞
s t e p - b r o t h e r s
❝Sometimes he’s a bit too serious, but I still love him.❞
status: [alive]
Alex(ander) and her were closer when she was younger but they grew apart once he moved out and went off to college.They had separate mothers and he and Jason are from Diana’s previous relationship.
❝We are two peas in a pod.❞
status: [alive]
Jason and her are and always have been very close, especially since they are only a year apart. They may get in simple fights but they get along again afterwards.
B e s t f r i e n d
❝We know each other so well we can almost read each other’s minds.❞
status: [alive]
Caleb/Abe and her are really close even though they only met freshman year. ㅤ
❝The shoe that fits one person pinches another; there is no recipe for living that suits all cases.❞
—Carl Jung
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ʀ ᴏ ʟ ᴇ ᴘ ʟ ᴀ ʏ ɪ ɴ ғ ᴏ ˎˊ-
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Find my rules [here] (WIP)
ᴀᴠᴀɪʟᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ
❝I won't sit still, look pretty.❞
—Daya, Sit Still, Look Pretty
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ᴀ ᴜ ᴛ ʜ ᴏ ʀ s ɴ ᴏ ᴛ ᴇ ˎˊ-
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lumierebros · 7 years
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Prisoners
Here I am again. After watching Arrival (which I loved, my review on it is here as well) thrice; in cinemas, then twice a few weeks ago, I procrastinated for a while on getting around to any other Villeneuve films. WELP. Not anymore. Day before yesterday, I watched Prisoners, yesterday Sicario, and today, Prisoners again. I’ll definitely be getting around to the rest once I finish up my Psychology assignment. So here we goooo:
A complex crime thriller about two young girls being abducted, Prisoners is brutal, sickening and engrossing. A large part of the movie focuses around Keller Dover (Hugh Jackman), the parent who takes matters into his own hands in attempt to discover the truth and Detective Loki (Jake Gyllenhaal), the intuitive leading detective whom Dover quarrels with almost always. With a new twist, complication and question added at every scene, the majority of Prisoners leaves you guessing and attempting at some detective work yourself, with the end product not quite what you’d expect. 
Firstly, can anyone just tell now when Roger Deakins is the cinematographer behind certain movies? His style is really interchangeable but when something is shot so well, as this was, he is immediately my prime suspect. The colours, lighting and environment of this movie are all so solemn and creepy, also very washed out of colour. It’s very cold film: blues, greys, blacks form the setting, costumes and characters. It’s also based around winter too if that helps. Albeit this frosty appearance, the movie is surprisingly visually beautiful. The smooth, floating movements of the camera throughout enhance the unsettling nature of the film. A particular shot that has stuck with me was the shot of the tree outside the Birch’s house. The camera very slowly moves closer to the tree while a pathetic attempt at the Star Spangled Banner is played by Franklin Birch. The cold and stillness of outside is in total juxtaposition with the happiness and warmth heard from within the house. The camera movement is so eerie and forces a deep sinking feeling, almost like sinking into a black pit, as we come to the realisation that something very wrong and horrible is about to happen. 
:-O. That was my face every time I recognised an actor. Hugh Jackman, Jake Gyllenhaal, Viola Davis, Eli Sunday (more commonly known as Paul Dano), Terrence Howard, creepy dude from the Dark Knight (or David Dastmalchian). SO many brilliant actors. Although Hugh Jackman’s performance was visibly much more emotionally driven and tragic, I did prefer Jake’s performance. There’s just something that irks me about Hugh’s permanent furrowed brow, like STOP dude you’re giving your emotions away so easily (SPOILER especially when he revisits Holly Jones’ house to confront her, he is so obviously angry). He is really, really good though, but constant furious yelling, frowning and general aggression is for me personally, emotional sensory overload. He portrays a desperate, incandescent man very well. With Jake, I’m so glad he’s turned more towards serious, powerful roles (g’bye to Prince of Persia, Love and Other Drugs and Day after tomorrow -_-). He is so strange and I felt so drawn to him in every scene. His movements are so clinical and calculated, his blinking, his temperament, his words. The brief insight to his background when he mentions the boys home he was raised in and would take joy in hurting the Father (and convicted sex offender), offers a succinct explanation for his mannerisms and even why he works as a cop. The thing that struck me the most with Detective Loki was his intuition. This man is so intelligent, quick and proficient at putting two and two together. His perfect track record of solving all cases further eludes to his unnaturally good instinct. Again to Gyllenhaal’s acting, the scene (Spoilerrr) where he is driving Anna to the hospital with heavy rain and blood from a head wound impairing his vision, is heartbreaking and emotional. The way he begs Anna to stay alive made me tear up, especially when he carries her into Emergency screaming for help. All the other actors were good as well. Paul Dano is alwas such a skinny weirdo, but is so good at it. Fricking awesome casting all in all.
The only thing I was disappointed about was (SPOILER) the kidnapper in the end was a wee bit underwhelming. Kidnapping kids and murdering them because your son died of cancer and you want to ‘wage a war’ against God? Seems a bit too far-fetched. But nonetheless, each bit of information fits in seamlessly at the end, and putting two and two together at the end is so satisfying. You notice tiny things and forget about it, only to later go SO THAT WAS WHAT THAT WAS ABOUT!!!! This, I would say, is due to brilliant editing. There is not a single useless scene I can think of. Every little moment and scene is so incredibly important. It just keeps you on the very edge. 
The brutality of the film is also something I loved. Normally, I hate when films shy away from the nitty-gritty; I’m always sitting there screaming ‘Let me see!!!!’.  This movie shows everything and it makes you sick to your stomach. Extreme violence with Dover’s torture of Alex Jones, who he firmly believes knows where the children are is full frontal. I actually gasped after the camera shows a close up of Jones’ mutilated face after Viola Davis’ character removes the pillow case/bag over his head. You are also left in a moral dilemma. Is there enough evidence proving that Jones is involved? Should Dover beat the shit out of him and torture him, acting illegally, because he believes Jones is involved? It spins around the concept of doubt, changing into a darker theme of ‘guilty until proven innocent, through Dover, and the (majority of) audience’s belief of doing everything for your children. I feel, that this movie’s subject matter is so intense and so well executed that parents will find it difficult or overwhelmingly stressful to watch. At least for my parents; my mum gasping and shaking her head every few scenes and my dad, almost walking off 3 separate times saying “I can’t watch this, it’s too sick” or “This is too stressful I can’t watch this”.
Lastly, that end scene was so frustrating!!!!! It reminded me of Inception. My entire family went “OHHHHHHHHH WHAT!!!” when it cut to black. We debated it for a solid thirty seconds before coming to the conclusion that (spoiler again) Loki does in fact find Dover. This is what I love about good movies. Discussion at the end, and I fricking love cliff hangers, not ones where you’re left confused and annoyed, but ones where you smile at the end and think ‘Holy shit what happens’. This one has such a goddamn good ending.
Lastly, about the movie title. My brother said to me he ‘hates’ the title ‘Prisoners’ because it doesn’t make sense. For me, I interpreted the title in many different ways. Firstly, who are the prisoners in this? Obviously the kidnapped children, then further into Alex Jones; drugged so heavily for so long that he now retains the IQ of a 10 year old, a prisoner to his body and mind. Then to Holly Jones; prisoner to her grief and loneliness which drives her to commit atrocious acts against children. Keller, a prisoner to his doubt, causing him to be so adamant about Jones’ involvement. Keller’s wife, a prisoner to her sleeping pills and grief. Loki, prisoner to his promise to both family’s and further to his own success with every case. Technically, this title can be applied to every character in the film with enough of in depth analysis.
I’m going to stop blabbing on now. If you’re in the mood for a well-directed, well-made psychological/crime thriller with a bit of violence and heavy subject matter, this one’s for you! 
- Shakkkkkkkya
P.S I’m sorry but I have to say this: Jake’s neck tattoo in this is so hot 
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drink-n-watch · 5 years
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I’ve talked to a few people about this show since last week’s premiere. My takeaway is that reviews were generally good with a cautiously optimistic outlook for the rest of the season. Was that also your experience Crow?
    That’s about where it struck me! A few negative reviews, sure, but most tended to be positive. Oh, I’m bold this week — just in case no one noticed!
oh, we noticed!
The biggest complaint I’ve heard is that the story is generic. And you know what, yes it is…This second episode fit right in with the plot you’d expect. But hey, I like classic tales. There’s a reason they get told over and over again!
Episode 2 starts off much funnier and lighter in tone than episode 1 did. I think it may have been the unexpected clash of tom=nes but I found that little opening exchange with Tanjirou trying to buy a basket off a random villager much more amusing than I should have.
Turns out the basket was so that he could carry his sister around during the day and they could keep on the move. We had some adorable scenes with the photophobic (with very good reason) Neuko burying herself in a cave then shrinking to fit in the basket. It was almost jarringly cute.
yup…those are little feet
Did you see her expression when she popped her head out of the hole in the case? A hole she’d dug by herself? She looked so pathetic! I know she’s a demon, but she’s a really sympathetic demon! -see it??? I made a gif of it!!!
Visually the show remains stunning with beautifully saturated and contrasting colors which pop even more with the judicial use of slightly thicker than average outlines. I found the music a touch much this week but not enough to be off putting. Those Zombie powers though sure turn out to be convenient….
Do you think it was a zombie power that helped her fit into the basket? Or just a little sister thing? I couldn’t tell… well he said it was like when she grew…
nothin’ suspicious here….
About a third into the episode we fell right back into horror when Tanjirou and Nezuko stumble upon a feeding demon. Once again the gore is extravagant but the camera doesn’t linger on the carnage, favouring instead a highly animated, bloody and fast paced fight scene. So far, I think action might be what Demon Slayer does best. That fight captivated me. Before I even realized it we were at the mid episode eye catch.
I quite enjoyed the opening as Nezuko stares at the bodies and her demon instincts well up. The early fight is intercut with angled shots of her, drool falling like tear drops. It’s quirky but also sad. A testament to the humanity ebbing out of her and her own realisation of it.
She didn’t feast, either, did she? So far, her humanity is winning!
And did you see her kick the other demon’s head clean off! That was my first “Holy crap!” moment. The second was when the head she’d kick off sprouted arms and kept trying to att Tanjiro. These demons are great as villains — clear motivation (they’re hungry) and powerful physiques!
It really was a great fight scene!
have you lost weight?
The story remains quite standard but the writing has improved, I think. The fight was in fact an exciting way to introduce Sakonji Urokodaki, a character that’s bound to become quite important. He also brings the entire notion of the “Demon Killing Corp”. Some type of vigilante(?) organization that protects the people from demons and counts Ginji as a member.
Did you see the other adorable little Nezuko moment? Tanjiro had watched in horror as the sunlight burned away the demon’s head (with two proto-arms — that’s still freaky!). When he turned around, Nezuko and Sakonji were gone. Tanjiro feared the worst, but he found her in the now-abandoned shrine, in the back corner, sitting in the basket with the sheet over her head. I just watched her kick a demon’s head off, and now I’m think she looks so tiny and scared! That’s some pretty good animation!
There are sweet or funny moments scattered throughout. And the expo is sofen, everything is shared with us through fairly natural sounding conversation rather than the exposition dump used to establish the setting last episode. Sure there were a few scenes of Sakonji lecturing Tanjirou and the audience but for the most part, information was doled out in small servings through their interactions and everyone made perfect sense.
I’m not gonna tell you what that is
I agree — it closed smoothly. I didn’t feel lectured to even once, and I’m pretty sensitive to that kind of thing!
Turns out that Ginji seeing some potential in Tanjirou asked Sakonji to make him his student and teach him to become a demon hunter. Sakonji for his part wants to make sure the boy has what it takes before investing too much in him. While Tanjirou is just trying to find a way to keep his sister safe while he searches for a way to turn her back, and the organization is his best bet so far.
You know, I always sneer at the trope of lethal and near impossible entrance tests. I mean what was the point of putting Tanjirou through that. He had to race down a deadly mountain full of traps. I mean, I guess it proves his endurance and dedication to the cause but if the boy wasn’t impossibly sturdy he would probably be dead and where would that leave them? It’s not like you can train to gain more stamina and agility, no need to wipe out all the scrawny kids before they even have a chance.
this is not a reasonable way to look after a test
Training might help stamina, but agility’s hard to improve above better coordination (if I remember my high school athletics, which isn’t certain!). Still, if Tanjiro’s going to be Sakonji’s student, and if Sakonji also has fantastic sensory skills, then it makes sense to have an entrance exam of sorts. The traps weren’t enough to kill him (well, okay, most weren’t enough — some of those logs looked pretty lethal), and now both of them know he can do it. Heck, the test might have been as much for Tanjiro’s confidence as it was for Sakonji’s evaluation.
It did make for an absolutely beautiful scene though. Ufotable does mouvement well. The episode closes on Sakonji quietly accepting the siblings and making Tanjirou his student. Yup, formulaic action adventure stuff but…
But how often is a demon a part of the package? This brings all sorts of opportunity for themes on discrimination on one hand and extreme responsibility on the other!
how many have stoic warrior mentor figures??? oh wait… all of them…
In my opinion, the success of this narrative will depend entirely on the characters. And they’re not bad. So far, they haven’t had much of a chance to show their stuff as there was a lot of worldbuilding to do and this opening arc is leaning on the technical savvy of the studio. But from the OP we know there’s a menagerie of eccentric looking characters to come.
The tone has also lightened up quite a bit, with a few genuinely funny moments and a much more action that drama driven episode. Sakinji still brought up the uncomfortable fact that letting Nazuko live is putting everyone at risk and may not be viable in the long run but the conversation moved on pretty quickly from the subject. And looking at the ED this time it seems there are more lighthearted sweet moments to come. What do you think?
Remember in the opening when Tanjiro was yelling at the farmer to accept payment for a broken basket, some bamboo, and some straw? He was yelling so loudly and so intently that for a minute, I thought I was watching Black Clover! He it was not only funny, it offered an insight into Tanjiro’s character. So that was cool!
money is a constant source of pain
I also think the humor added to how enjoyable this episode was. Even the moment where Tanjiro urged Nezuko to get smaller so she could fit into the basket was diverting in an amusing way. Carrying around a demon is not only dangerous, it’s rife with little bizarre moments like, “Hey, can she shrink like she grew before?”
I don’t know if you stayed for the after credits tag but it was the cutest. These are the touches that tell me the show isn’t taking itself too seriously which is a very good thing.
Nezuko couldn’t talk through her gag, which was funny! Well, funny for me, but not so much for her.
neither did Crow!
Some random thoughts on this week’s episode. Nezuko still has her bamboo gag. Hilarious. But doesn’t she in fact need to eat at some point?
I wondered about that, too. Do demons have to eat humans? Or could they eat cattle? Or some other animal? Maybe vegetables? A vegan demon would certainly be a conversation starter!
Also I really want a pair of earrings like Tanjirus. Does anyone know where I can get some? I’ll be your friend!
But would you want to use them in battle? I kept expecting them to get torn off! Ow!
Worth it!
 I will as soon as you tell me who our jeweler is
I keep saying this show is pretty, I should really show you:
  Review Of Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 02 – Crow Will Protect Me I’ve talked to a few people about this show since last week's premiere. My takeaway is that reviews were generally good with a cautiously optimistic outlook for the rest of the season.
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manlethotline · 7 years
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Aspergers/autism is seeing a needle, and then a minute later possibly noticing the haystack.
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