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eponymous-rose · 3 years

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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E121 (Jan. 19, 2021)

Aaaand we're back! The epic pet montage at the start is still the greatest thing ever.

Tonight's guests? Matthew Mercer and Marisha Ray!

We begin with an extensive discussion of waffle farts. As you do.

Matt is asked what it's been like to get to build out the characters in the Tombtakers. Lucien is Matt's favorite, but they've all got some fun traits to them. "It's one of those rare experiences as a dungeon master where you get to watch your players combat with the necessity of playing along. The instinct is: fuck these guys, I want to fight them, we'll take their shit... or I guess we have to play nice. And they begrudgingly grit their teeth and I smile internally."

On the Lucien accent: "You guys are all so mean to Taliesin!" Matt knew his own take would be a "weird mutation" of Mollymauk's accent anyway.

How's Marisha feeling about a lot of her predictions panning out? "Aw, I mean, gee, me? What? Noooo. It's definitely vindicating, I'm not gonna lie, and rewarding, but I also know that I write a lot of shit down in that notebook that's never relevant ever again. It's definitely a good feeling to know that I didn't go on that fifteen-minute deep dive and was utterly wrong about everything I said." Matt: "I was super proud. I was just silently cheering you on as you went on these long tangents."

What does Lucien think of the Mighty Nein? "Lucien is definitely curious about why they're getting involved in his shit and what they're planning alongside them. One, he hates Beau because he doesn't like people who challenge his authority. He gravitates towards Jester to an extent because she's the most open, which from his standpoint makes her easiest to manipulate. He loves toying with curiosity, and so between Jester and Caleb, those are the two people that he's the most comfortable interacting with. Caduceus makes him feel a little weird. He's amused by them. Fjord to Lucien is one of the more guarded and less accessible at the moment."

Is Beau enjoying getting under Lucien's skin? "Beau's picking and poking still kind of stems from her defensiveness and guardedness and her feelings, in a lot of ways, and the way that she's coping with things. It's a few steps removed from her default and what she often resorts to when she starts throwing up those barriers. She still has in the back of her head that she's looking at her dead friend. It's her way of protecting herself if she can go, fuck you, I don't care about you. This isn't too dissimilar to the way she reacted when Yasha was brainwashed." Matt: "It's a unique social sparring match the whole time they're traveling side-by-side. It's unique to have an antagonistic force that you're--" Marisha: "That we're going camping with."

Navigating the Tombtaker/M9 relationship as a DM is "challenging. At any given moment, a wrong statement could escalate matters one way or the other. It's having to pay attention to a lot of things at all points in time to be ready for how those chain reactions can happen and where it might go." He likens it to trying to follow and participate in two different conversations simultaneously at a party.

On the note from Yasha: "Oh man, you guys. Oh, it was so sweet. I don't think Beau was expecting Yasha to be so forthcoming with everything, and so complimentary and eloquent. Beau is awkward with healthy relationships, so she doesn't know how to handle them. She's still processing that and wants to not ruin it. No, it was magical." Ashley told Marisha after the episode that she was trying to think of what to say and wound up basing it on what she would say about Marisha.

Cosplay of the Week: an amazing Vax (by stormfeather_cosplay, photograph by travi_b, both on Instagram)!

On using variations on the Wild Magic table: "I wanted to give it some variation to consequences. They took some of the tooth out of it from earlier editions. I knew it would be fun once I gave them the specifications of when these things would happen - players are just waiting for someone to roll a 20 or a 1 at all times."

Why is it so important to Beau that she and Yasha have a proper date? Part of it is a fresh start. "So much of Beau's past relationships have been rooted in some toxic behavior. Beau feels like, well, maybe we should just start from the beginning in the most us way possible: fighting through the tundra with our dead-ish friend."

The sci-fi-ish theme came toward the end of developing Aeor, but it mostly comes from rationalization. Matt is intrigued by how all these different societies want to usurp the gods... which has parallels with modern society. He notes that focusing more on the science of the magic means the aesthetics pull away to "instead facilitate the utility or the most direct route to the answers you want. You streamline as opposed to focusing on the aesthetics."

Beau’s reaction to all the weird magic stuff? “I think Beau’s just so focused on the pragmatic aspects of it all right now. There are greedy people with motives and the will and want to corrupt across all spans of cultures and times. She’s trying not to get lost in the magic, both proverbially and literally, of it all, and just trying to focus on the motives of these people at hand.”

In some ways, Matt was surprised by Caduceus’ strong reaction to the creepy woods. “It was the first major reveal that there are some other sides to the coin that he hadn’t learned about. I had no idea how he would react. It pushed him away more in ways than I expected.”

Fan art of the week: an amazing Lucien! (by oratorkayla on Twitter)

What’s Dagen’s motivation? “He’s definitely a man of his word when it comes to fulfilling a contract and getting the other half of his pay, but it’s not hard to see they’ve grown on him a little bit. He’s really good at getting around the tundra unseen and unnoticed.”

Brian: “In true Sam fashion-” Marisha, instantly: “OH MY GOD.”

Marisha: “Here’s the thing. Here’s the tea, okay? If I ever hear one more fucking person trying to claim that I’m ruining things by metagaming, I’m going to point to Sam. I’m expected to respond accordingly to Veth being a Sam troll. Gods damn him! Raven Queen curse upon him! Let chaos reign! He made me pull out my earphones, I can’t hear anything you’re saying. It’s frustrating because I’d be mad at it if it wasn’t so god damn funny.” Matt notes that at a different table this wouldn’t be great behavior, but they all know each other well enough (and check in with each other enough) that it’s comfortable teasing.

With a bit of a deeper pull, Matt is asked whether he knew Avantika would return someday? “I knew she was a fun, interesting option out there. The M9 still have in their grasp the single most important artifact, in Uk’otoa’s opinion, at the moment. As long as they carry that artifact, his eye of Sauron is upon them.” Matt notes that he has more encounter tables going, so a lot of the time even he’s not sure what’s going to happen.

Caduceus suggested contacting Essek, but Beau and Caleb nixed that idea. Does Beau trust him? “Gods no. Absolutely not. She can like Essek personally. As a person, he’s fine, I guess. But I think a lot of people might be forgetting that he’s kind of a war criminal and kind of set off a lot of bad things in motion with this war with the Empire and the Dynasty, because he wanted power and to know things. So now here he is, also in Aeor. Yeah. Just kinda putting two and two together there. It is another one of those things of, you’re walking that line on trying to keep him on your good side and having a mutually beneficial relationship before it could easily go completely south.”

On the Star Razor being a Vestige: “I don’t want this to be--- the Vestiges aren’t always a thing where it’s like, you get a Vestige and you get a Vestige! I want them to be still considered special and rare. This is one that had to be earned, it had to be reforged. I didn’t know the circumstances that would involve it coming about.” He based it on the circumstances of Fjord’s evolution into a paladin. “In essence, not only did he finish the creation of the sword, but he Awakened it at the same time as he made this transition. It is Exalted at this point, it’s in its final form.”

What does Beau think might lie ahead? “I have no idea. I am trying to abandon expectation when it comes to that. I know what we don’t know, and that’s it. Beau is trying to compensate for the known unknowns and the unknown unknowns. I hope we can keep this tenuous relationship through to Aeor, because we need more answers before it explodes in our face. Beau, and Marisha, is hoping for a little more information before shit hits the fan.”

#critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #talks machina spoilers #long text post

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fanfic-cave · 3 years

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Injured Pt. 2

Rating: SFW/PG-13

Word Count: 1.9k

Pairing: not so subtle hint to Hunter x Fem Jedi!OC

Warnings: Blood/bleeding, burn, and just general injured person, swearing, and FLUFF TIME (also sparks of feelings and the characters not recognizing them is like a drug to me so have fun)

Summary: You commissioned the bad batch to take you to Dantooine for your own personal mission in search of a Jedi temple, being an ex-jedi clone wars veteran. The rogue clones inevitably find a fight, which leads to Hunter getting injured. How will you all escape, and will you be able to rescue Hunter before its too late?

Authors note: Thanks for the notes on part 1! If part 1 was action, this is where the fluff ensues.

Link to part one here

You saw the blood on Hunter's hands, and images flashed through your brain. Dead clone troopers, your last fight on Umbara where your battalion was wiped out. I can’t let that happen again. You dove out of your cover and rushed to him. “Wrecker, help me get him!”

Echo shouted in through comms “Crosshair, focus your shots on whoever's firing that thing!”

You easily avoided the blaster fire, and with Wreckers help you pulled Hunter back to cover. You started assessing the blaster injury on him. It looked black and red, splotches of blood staining his uniform. “Hunter, can you hear me?”

Hunter gripped his side where the blaster shot him. “Yeah.” His voice sounded a bit weak. He wasn’t doing too great.

“I can help him, but we need to get to the ship now.” You spoke to the group.

“I’ve got it!” Tech spoke triumphantly, and made quick movements with the stolen comm unit he held. Suddenly all fire ceased from the Empires troopers. You peeked out and saw the troopers were clutching their heads, like they were in pain. It looked like Tech was sending them some strong feedback, a few had even passed out.

“Let’s move!” Echo called out. Wrecker helped Hunter stand, you went to the other side to support him, and you began your retreat. Crosshair remained for a minute to shoot down some troopers who were recovering, then he joined in the escape.

The ship wasn’t far, and you fortunately made it there in time before you and the group had to engage in another skirmish. Omega was standing by the ship, and saw you approach. She looked at Hunter and you think you saw tears well up in her eyes. “Hunter!” She ran toward him. “Is he okay? What's wrong?”

“Just a blaster shot, don’t worry about it.” Hunter spoke and gave her a reassuring nod. You knew he didn’t know for sure if he was okay or not. Everyone boarded the ship quickly.

“Get him to the medical station and do what you can Sera, Tech let’s get the ship out of here.” Echo spoke. He seemed to be comfortable acting as lead to the group with Hunter being more or less out of commission.

You and Wrecker moved to the medical bay with Hunter held up between the two of you, everyone else stayed behind. Crosshair had put a hand on Omegas shoulder to keep her from following you. Once at the small medical station on the ship, Wrecker helped set Hunter down.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Wrecker asked. He looked at you with worry written all over his face

You removed Hunter's helmet and the top of his armor, being gentle with your movements. “I think I can fix this, give me a minute.” His face looked a little pale, a sheen of sweat coating his skin.

The boys knew you had medical experience. There was a day where Omega had sprained her ankle while you were in the area. You were able to treat the small injury, and she healed relatively fast. Then she got a scratch, then Wrecker hit his head, and soon enough you began to get calls from them if a serious injury was involved. They knew to give you space and let you work.

You hesitated, and then removed your mask, setting it aside on the nearby table. Your hood fell to your shoulders. None of the bad batchers, save for Omega, had seen you without your mask, but you needed it off to work better. Plus with the battle you all went through together, you figured hiding your face wasn't a priority right now. Your blonde hair was in a tight braid. It was short and barely extended past the base of your skull. Hunter looked at you curiously, but his gaze kept shifting, like he was having a hard time staying conscious. “Keep your eyes open Hunter. I’m gonna clean this and we’ll get you patched up.”

You wiped some sweat off of him and he nodded at you, gritting his teeth. You cut away his shirt, and revealed the wound. You saw he was quite toned and muscular once the shirt was gone, and you felt your face grow warm.

Stop looking at his muscles Sera. You shook your head to snap out of it and got back to work. There were multiple shots on his right flank, nearly missing the center of his abdomen. His skin was burned where the shots had hit him. The burn wasn’t too deep, but there was some blood and irritation. Hunter must’ve been in a lot of pain. You glanced at his face. He was good at hiding it.

You administered a numbing agent, hoping to help with the pain. He seemed to relax a bit after this. Then, you looked around to check and be sure nobody else was in the room to watch. You closed your eyes, and put your hand over the wound. You opened yourself up to the force, and used it to sense Hunter's body. After a moment of concentration, it was easy to start the flow and you began to heal him. This was the real reason why you excelled in first aid: you could heal with the force, and it had made you a damn good general during the clone wars.

I still couldn’t save them. My troopers.

You cast the thought away quickly. You stopped your force healing, and got to work with bacta. You hadn’t used the force to seal up his wound, but you tried giving some life force to him as an attempt to ease away more of the pain and give him some strength. He seemed to gain a bit more color, and he looked stronger.

“You don’t look so bad.” Hunter said. He was looking at you, studying your face. You raised your eyebrows at him questioningly as you cleaned his wound out.

“Without the mask, I mean. You look nice.” You felt the heat return to your face again. You thought of his somewhat exposed body in front of you, then glanced at his face. “You’re not too bad yourself,” You said teasingly.

“I mean it.” He countered. “Why the mask?” You sighed at his question. That’s complicated.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” He averted his gaze. He seemed embarrassed, or maybe sorry that he had gotten that reaction from you. You watched him for a second, debating whether or not to share.

You looked back at your hands and kept working as you spoke. “You’re all hiding from the Empire, right? Let’s just say you’re not the only ones.” He contemplated what you said for a moment.

“Thank you Sera.” Hunter's eyes found yours, trying to hold your gaze. He seemed earnest in his appreciation.

“Just don’t get into the habit of getting shot, alright?” You smiled at him and he chuckled at your joke. You sealed a large bacta patch on the wound. “But I think you’ll live today.”

“I also meant for coming and helping us.” He made eye contact with you. You felt a flutter in your chest, an unexpected response from his intense gaze.

You broke away from his gaze and sat down. “It was nothing. Like I said, I thought you guys could use the help. And I know you’re all capable, but I wanted to do what I could.” You shrugged when you finished.

Hunter sat up and put a hand on your shoulder. “We could’ve been in worse shape without you today Sera. That wasn’t nothing.” His hand was warm. You became more aware of your breathing suddenly and took a deep breath. You looked back up to him, and he was still staring at you. He wasn’t the easiest person to read, but you could tell he really wanted you to know that he was grateful.

You put your hand on top of his. More warmth spread through your body. “It was really nothing Hunter.” You smiled shyly now. Well, this is kinda weird. You thought. Why am I feeling like this around Hunter? Is it because he’s not wearing a shirt? You continued contemplating why you felt your heart trying to beat out of your chest, and the fact that Hunter's touch made an electric current pulse through your body. Maybe because I don’t have the mask on. Being exposed and whatnot. You decided this was a good theory.

“Let me know if you start feeling some pain, I'll be able to help.” You squeezed his hand as you spoke. “Sure thing.” He replied. You felt his fingers twitch underneath yours. You felt the flutter in your chest again when his fingers moved under yours.

The door opened and Omega walked in. “Hunter, are you okay?” She walked up to him, looking at the patch on his side. You felt his hand slip out between your shoulder and hand, taking his warmth with him. “Yeah kid, I’ll be fine thanks to her.” He tilted his head towards you.

“Hunter, it’s really-“ you interjected again, preparing to downplay your role in helping Hunter. Omega had interrupted you though by giving you a hug. You looked down for a second, then quickly glanced at Hunter. You thought you saw him smile, but he was getting up now. You looked back to Omega and patted her back, returning the hug. “Thank you Sera!” She released you and looked up at you with admiration. You had a soft spot for her, and you couldn’t help but smile genuinely at her. “Sure, Omega. It was no problem.”

Hunter walked past you two, then stopped at the door, leaning at the frame. You watched him, an eyebrow raised questioningly. He turned to look at you. “You know, we could probably use your help more often if we go out on more missions like this. I’m sure everyone else would agree.”

“Are you asking me to tag along when there’s a next time?” you asked, crossing your arms and raising your eyebrows to emphasize the when, not if. You were smirking too, enjoying the fact that Hunter was asking for your help. It was a rare occurrence and you wanted to enjoy the moment by teasing him for it.

He sighed. “Yeah, I am.” He looked away from you and waited for your response. Your smirk turned into a smile. You stood up and walked to Hunter, slightly punching his arm. “Yeah I could come and save your ass more.” You laughed, and he rolled his eyes at your comment.

Omega looked between the two of you, happy at the relationship that seemed to be developing. “You saved their ass?” She spoke, and your eyes widened. Hunter said “Hold on Omega, Sera didn’t mean to say that, Right?” He looked at you with furrowed brows, and the tone of his voice dropped when he addressed you. “Yep! That word doesn’t exist Omega, don't say it!” The words came out quickly and you walked past Hunter with a quick movement.

“Sera!” He followed you and exited out of the med station, you sensed a quippy back and forth conversation was about to happen. You smiled as he moved to follow you. I think I just made a friend. You thought. And if your suspicions were correct, you think you would get another 5 friends down the road.

#tbb #tcw #the bad batch #the clone wars #star wars #hunter #echo #tech #crosshair #wrecker #omega #hunter x reader #hunter x jedi #jedi #dantooine #havoc marauder #fanfiction #fanfic #the bad batch x reader

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teruthecreator · 3 years

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okay. thoughts on the grad finale

gonna slap it under a readmore bc i’m Sure i’m gonna ramble.

uh spoiler warning for the finale of taz graduation, as well as spoilers for the season in general.

also, these are my own thoughts of how the season went, what the themes were, etc! if you don’t agree with me, that’s fine! but i don’t wanna have a convo w you in the replies about it i’ll be honest. if you want to share your opinion so badly, make your own post, alright? that good? we cool?

aight. so. finale thoughts.

to make it short: i think the finale was a satisfying end of a very good arc.

to expand upon that, let me share what i think the themes of graduation were and why the finale satisfies those themes.

i made a post about this a while back (here it is if you want) but my honest belief was that the theme of graduation was self-reliance: the concept that you don’t allow yourself to be governed by forces that go against your own beliefs. this concept was coined by essayist ralph waldo emerson to talk about how the american people shouldn’t allow the government to create laws that go against the will of the people. now, understandably, this feels very anti-capitalist which is what i think a lot of fans believed was reflected through the season.

but, in reality, self-reliance has more to do with being active in your government and making sure you’re being represented the way you want to be by your representatives. that’s sort of the vibe emerson was going for in his essay, and i think. in a sense? that translates to graduation. but i took self-reliance in the more metaphorical about breaking away from those things that are controlling you. which, in graduation, was A Lot Of Things.

the way i saw it, there were two major groups that inflicted order upon the world and the thundermen--conveniently separated as order and chaos (not the deities though, just the concepts).

the order half of control existed mostly through the school and the HOG. the HOG created the economic reliance on the heroes and villains system, which removed all literal meaning from those terms and turned them into bureaucratic titles. society existed under these very strict checks and balances; heroes and villains supplied money to the kingdom in terms of entertainment, which then boosted that kingdom’s creditability and allowed them to contribute more to nua’s economy, which then led heroes and villains to have a higher demand, thus perpetuating the cycle. it’s important to note that this term does not represent the sort of morality we expect for heroes and villains--hell, even the term “evil” turned into an arbitrary term used to show those heroes and villains who failed the system. this is the more prominent representation of control that the thundermen break away from in achieving their own self-reliance. they don’t see the value in a system that holds no real moral code (fitzroy Especially, but i’ll get into that in a bit), and can’t help the public when there’s actually a serious situation. as we saw with althea in the beginning, the HOG had no way to help the thundermen when they were dealing with the whole Demon Prince situation (as he had already placed some of his own people in there, proving these kind of systems are easily corruptible). so this wasn’t a system meant to Actually create heroes and villains--it was just a way of boosting the economy.

the chaos half of control existed primarily through grey and Chaos. grey represented how chaos could be controlled, through various means. he planted that tree for the centaurs to fight over because he knew it would constantly create conflict, which he enjoyed. he kept the school under a watchful eye to prevent anyone from stepping out of line with his grand ideas, and used several manipulation tactics to try and get his way (most notably, his own admittance of grooming fitzroy into joining his side, which didn’t work). grey was the perfect example of how chaos does not automatically mean a lack of control. he was very controlling in how he did things because he had an endgoal: find hieronymous and have a war. but he didn’t even realize he was contributing to a greater idea, that being Chaos’s insistence on causing general disarray. as we realize now, Chaos’s plan was both for them and Order, but i’m leaving Order out for a second because they only really rear their head in towards the end. for the most part, audiences were led to assume that Chaos was the Big Bad(TM); they were the one pulling the strings, allowing things to happen to cause general chaos and disarray. them supplying random mortals with their endless power was a way to plant chaos into the world of nua; but it was a chaos they controlled. fitzroy resisting them was not simply a refusal to bend to Chaos, but it was resisting the control put on him through his magic.

these systems were constricting the thundermen on both sides. when they thought they’d find help in one side, they were disappointed to find that there was nothing anyone could do. the only people who could fix their problems were...them. so they forged a new path, set new ideas, and became self-reliant. that’s what i think is the most important aspect of graduation; not the anti-capitalist implications of turning over the economic and political systems in place, but the idea that if nothing that is supposed to help you is actually helping that you can just...do your own thing!

and i think that’s what the finale really shows, at the end of the day. that these forms of control were not doing anything helpful, and were in fact ruining the fabric of space-time! that’s where i think Order comes in because Order is really...the ultimate culmination of control. they are aware that Everything being done will benefit their cause. the HOG? well, they make sure everybody’s so incompetent that they can do their work. grey? well, he’ll contribute to the plan without even realizing it. they even manipulated Chaos and enacted their own form of control over Chaos to make sure that they had no reason to believe that this plan couldn’t go wrong. but Order knew. Order always knew there was a chance for error, and that chance was very great. but they didn’t care! so long as they had control of things, they could try a hundred times to get it right. they had no care for mortals, unlike Chaos.

the thundermen showing Chaos the truth is the final jenga piece that collapses this tower of control. which is why the finale is so great.

travis does a phenomenal job of incorporating chaos (general chaos) into the battle mechanics. it may be stupid and slightly arbitrary, but having them change forms randomly and having to adapt to those new circumstances really does exemplify the season!!! the thundermen were constantly forced into new situations (being sidekicks/henches, fitzroy becoming a villain, being let in on the heiro dog situation, the unbroken chain trial, joining forces w grey, etc.), and in all of them they simply found a way to adapt and keep working their way. which made the finale generally interesting and also thematically interesting!

i think my favorite part of the entire fight scene is right at the end, when argo chucks the shark’s tooth necklace at Order. and time stops. and they’re given a choice.

the fact that they leave it to a coin toss?? oh my god...how fucking FITTING!! like, that’s disorderly. that’s going your own way. it’s new, it’s terrifying, it has DIRE UNKNOWNS ON EITHER SIDE, but it’s what they do! and...it ends up working out! i think it would’ve worked out either way, but the fact that they left it up to chance really shows how they aren’t allowing anything to control their actions.

AND THEN WE GET TO THE EPILOGUE. MY GOD I LOVE THE EPILOGUE I’M GONNA GO OFF SO MUCH.

first off, i loved hearing how Nua adapts to losing this very significant form of government/economic contributor and turns to more people-based work. citizens uniting together, fixing things, making amends, THAT’S SELF-RELIANCE BABEY!!! THAT’S THE WHOLE EMERSON SHIT! HAVING A SYSTEM OF GOVERNMENT THAT ACTUALLY HAS THE INTERESTS OF THE PEOPLE AT LARGE!!! YEAHHHHHHHHH THAT’S THE WHOLE SELF-RELIANCE THING!

now, i’ll break it down by characters:

fitzroy

GOD. LOVE IT. FIRST OFF, absolutely ADORED how his character arc involved him stripping himself of these self-assigned titles because he actually has an identity that is all his own and he doesn’t NEED arbitrary titles to prove his worth because HE HAS IT IN HIMSELF. not to self-plug or anything, but that’s ssoss!fitzroy’s WHOLE SHIT. I’VE ALREADY BEEN ON THIS TRAIN, BITCH, AND TO KNOW I GOT IT SO RIGHT...GOD. FEELS GOOD.

but also, i just really enjoy how his ending went in general. the fact that he doesn’t really know what he wants to do, so he just...does stuff he likes to do? that’s so good! because, if you remember, fitzroy had a Very set schedule of life events when the campaign started. he was going to get his wiggenstaffs degree, go back knight school, get his knight school degree, and then go to goodcastle. but all of that was based on a very limited understanding of himself.

fitzroy’s character arc has primarily focused finding himself, specifically in terms of identity. for someone who was bullied for his past, the present formation of himself was Extremely important to fitzroy. he thought that shutting out his past and taking on this grandiose title of knighthood would make him something more than himself. he would no longer be fitzroy; the poor, country kid trying to make it in a big world. he’d be Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt; respected, honored, revered, with a title to prove it.

he explains to fauxronymous (pre-reveal grey) that the reason he wanted to be a knight was because he wanted to assist in doing good. morally good. fitzroy has Always had a very clear sense of his morality; this comes through when he refuses Chaos on the basis of many people having to die if he agreed. but being a knight also had the added of bonus of a very respectable title that no one would want to look beyond, which fitzroy felt he needed because...i don’t think he Saw anything beyond that. in himself. he wasn’t himself for a very long time, and i don’t know if he ever thought he would be again. he’d wear this new identity, start a new life, and be happier....he hoped.

then, things changed! and he started to realize that arbitrary titles don’t do shit because plenty of people with Big Important Titles ended up being Awful People! so he started to value himself For Himself; his wit, his humor, his strength, his magical prowess. and, i think, he started to wonder what knighthood was Really about. was it about upholding a moral good? or was it just another bureaucracy filled with people who won’t do shit when things get bad.

i think this is why him becoming a lawyer is fitting. especially because of the reasoning he gives sylvia nite. now for A LOT OF PEOPLE, i’m sure they hear lawyer and assume some corporate hotshot who doesn’t give a shit about people. but fitzroy is Not applying to be a corporate laywer. he SPECIFICALLY telsl sylvia that he wants to help people who cannot help themselves, and he wants to do good in that way. THAT kind of lawyer is more of the pro-bono, district lawyer. the ones that don’t make crazy amounts of cash, but help those who cannot afford lawyers and represent them when the government is fucking them over. those lawyers don’t rely on title, they rely on principle.

that’s the perfect representation of fitzroy’s growth. holding his identity within himself, while still trying to do good by those who need it.

firbolg (aka gary)

i think the firbolg’s ending is so unique but so...right for him. his character arc has really been focused around finding his family. he had one, in the beginning, in his clan. but that didn’t end up, y’know...working out that much. so he had to go out into the world alone--something that firbolg’s are rarely--and try and navigate these foreign spaces all by himself.

we see very early on how he latches onto the idea of groups. he likes being considered a part of the thundermen; he very much hoists himself upon the CFO title and wears it proudly. i think, where fitzroy needed to find identity within himself, the firbolg needed to find it within other people. which is completely okay! he’s still an individual, but you can tell he finds comfort in numbers because that’s what he is used to.

him going back to his clan was, i believe, his finally severance with his identity as “firbolg”. he would never be welcomed back to his clan, and one of the few people in his life who supported him was now dead. but his father was proud of him; his father was happy he seemed to find his own clan, even if it wasn’t with other firbolgs. from that moment on, i think the firbolg begins to try finding himself within the thundermen. within his friends.

so his epilogue is neat! it definitely captures the loneliness he feels on his own, and how he feels lost with himself without others. i think it might seem silly to some that he would become a gary, but i think it’s fitting. the garys were always present in his time at school, and they were always helpful. they didn’t mind how long it took him to talk because the gary’s are stone gargoyles--what the fuck do they care about time? it was a group that the firbolg saw as familiar to him--always willing to help, slow, stony, and attuned to a larger group.

and i think the way gary takes this idea of unity and family and puts it into financial assistance just...it just ties everything together! we saw how attached he got to the concept of finances, thanks to his very confusing accounting class. so he had all of this new knowledge--this knowledge that represented a separation from firbolgs--and this new clan. and he used it to help other clans and families!! i think the fact that the Garys financial advice works specifically with groups is what makes this so fitting. because gary wants families to feel stable within themselves; he understands how finances can create struggle and divides, and he wants to provide relief.

giving financial advice to communities so they rely on themselves and not the government (aka inviting them to be controlled once more) is a VERY self-reliant concept. not that i think gary’s goal is to have no social networks to exist, but he wants to give communities the ability to rely on one another and foster that feeling of togetherness. so groups aren’t fighting over things, but are trusting and loving and relying.

just like gary’s always wanted. and just like what he has with the thundermen.

argo

argo’s ending is probably the funniest, but also the sweetest. i think that argo’s character arc revolved around finding his place. we see how argo’s early personality and motivations revolved around his past. he very much had a revenge story since the start; he wanted to enact revenge on the commodore for murdering his mother, no matter what it took. which made him very limited!! in terms of the self. he saw himself less for what he was now, and what he was then. and what he couldn’t do then.

we see how much he finds comfort in being a part of the thundermen, but also how he feels...out of place. i think this is because a part of him is still attached to his past and doesn’t think he can do anything beyond his set plan. the unbroken chain certainly contributes to this, by not only separating him from the trio but also reinforcing his connection to his past through his mother’s involvement in the unbroken chain.

the commodore also being a part of the unbroken chain is, i think, what causes the shift from past to present within argo. his life’s goal is standing right in front of him--attached to the group his mother once was a part of--with his friends at his side. letting the thundermen in on his history is the start of bridging these two halves of argo. and the fact that the thundermen are so willing to helps makes argo feel more a part of the team and more a part of this reality.

when he kills the commodore, it isn’t intense. it isn’t overly dramatic (minus the fight prior, which was BADASS), it isn’t crazily staged. it is argo, staring down the commodore who lies prone on the ground.

he kills himself unceremoniously and completes his life-long mission.

what becomes of him in the epilogue is the culimination of both past and present. he takes what he knows and loves (the sea, the mariah, sailing) and blends it with what he’s come to love now (his friends, this adventure, and making people happy). there are SO many instances where argo uses performance to his advantage. this man is piloted by clint mcelroy, of COURSE he’s going to have a flair for the dramatic.

so for him to open up a themed cruiseline, based on the stories of him and his friends? SO FITTING. and it isn’t forcing himself to leave his past behind or to completely ignore his present circumstances. because he’s found a place in the now, in the merging of these two sides. and by merging them, he paints a bright future for himself. a future that is partially known, partially not. partially old, partially new.

but it’s all his.

after that, i think their final scene is just...sweet. a nice, jovial, joking send-off to a nice season. it proves these people have grown and will continue to grow, even when we no longer see their story. it does exactly what graduation does--shows you a struggle, a triumph, and a glimpse into the future.

i’ll miss it so much, but there’s nothing more i could’ve asked of this ending. it was exactly what it needed to be; nothing more, nothing less.

#taz grad spoilers #taz graduation #sir fitzroy maplecourt #argo keene #firbolg #taz fitzroy #taz argo #taz firbolg #ignorance cloud on #this took a while and now my head hurts so lol!#also if there are spelling mistakes leave me alone i cant read this text anymore

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yep-ishouldbesleeping · 3 years

Text

Time to Vent

Hello My Hero Nation, it is time once again for me to scream into the void about my disappointments in the latest chapters (not all of them but especially a couple were just meh for me). You’ve read the title, buckle up BOIS.

I think Hori might have bitten more than he could chew with this arc and didn’t know how to wrap it up so he started to rush things, and it kinda shows. I’m not even one of those who thinks Horikoshi is a bad writer, he’s not the best but he’s good enough, especially the writings of certain characters I find very, very good.

But lately... He’s not been up to his own standards imo.

So I made a list of all the things that disappointed me. Why? Because I’m insane and I’ve been hyper for the past 3 days and I need to say something.

Story wise

Midnight’s death was handled awfully. Not even a small flashback? Sis really died off screen like that. With Twice we got a beautifully crafted moment that was very heartbreaking, very well written. And although I’m more of a villain stan myself, I think the heroes’ side deserves the same treatment.

The fuck happened to Toga? Last time she was running and was not reunited with the League.

The fuck happened to the Pussycats? We even got a small vignette with fucking Wash. WASH. (Like sir you’re great but now’s not the time)But not with them? ‘K. I thought they were a tad bit more important.

An update on Ryukyu? We know she was injured and that’s it, but she was important for Njire, Uraraka and Asui and yet we know nothing about her. I’m not even sure if the decay destroyed her hands completely.

We don’t know what happened to the big three. We know they got injured, but especially Tamaki, we basically haven’t seen him the whole arc, yet he was pretty important for Kirishima and Mirio (2 characters who have a more important role in the story... but yet here we are).

The Todos hospital scene. Not good. The golden child syndrome and the bad victim one strike again. Apparently Fuyumi and Natsuo aren’t as important as Shouto, being that they’re not “the family’s heroes”, when they both tried their best and Fuyumi especially tried to keep the family together (Not saying Shouto isn’t important just that he shouldn’t be put on a pedestal and viewed as better than his siblings).

Actual consequences for the heroes?? A couple of pages isn’t really enough in my opinion, and Endeavor gets to keep his job?? He should be removed if not incarcerated?? Domestic abuse is a crime??? Plus maybe a little investigation on Hawks. Show me something Hori. SHOW ME THE SYSTEM FALLING APART PLS.

An update on the current Heroes’ Top Ten would have been nice. Half of them are dead, another half is injured. Some people are quitting and some others are being cancelled. A quick recap would have helped the readers as well as the story, summarizing the story and showing how the tides are changing.

None seemed to really care that much about the prison breaks. We just know that the panic hasn’t stopped but everyone was more involved in other things. ‘K.

Kurogiri?? What happened to him? Did he escape? None knows.

Where are the new prisoners gonna go? People like the Doctor, Machia and Compress, if Tartarus is not available, especially Machia. Where the fuck can you put this giant.

Human Reactions

The parents don’t seem concerned at all. Your children were dragged into a war, half of them almost died. Can we get an actual reaction? Give me parents that are angry, that cry, that want to take their children away from that school. Nope. Nothing. Just Inko and Mitsuki moving calmly looking mildly concerned. That’s not even in character.

Inko your child has dropped out of school and is missing. Honey what are you doing. Why didn’t they give you any human reaction I’m so sorry. They did you dirty love.

Deku and All Might talikng. We don’t know her.

Deku AND KACCHAN TALKING. We don’t know her either.

Deku talking about Nana and Shigaraki. Nope. Not even a small little scene where he tells Gran Torino that Nana said hi, it would have been a small thing but still very moving I think.

THE SECRET IS OUT PEOPLE. Can we at least, at the very least, get an actual decent reaction of Deku’s classmates pls? No, just a page of people holding letters (that we can’t even read completely) with most of the focus on Uraraka, I know it’s because she has a crush on him, but people like Iida and Asui are his friends too, seeing that would have been nice.

THE OTHER SECRET IS OUT. Show me the class reacting to Todoroki’s situation, being hurt that a hero would do that, trying to awkwardly comfort Shouto.

Aizawa and Mic talking. For example about the Doctor or, I don’t know, FUCKING MIDNIGHT.

The League reacting to Dabi. The bitch is just crying blood on a couch none told him anything?

The League being corcened about Compress and Toga. One is captured and the other is missing, I know that AFO is now in control but saying that your allies are missing should still be of interest to him too.

An update on Shigaraki. We don’t really know how the dialogue is going between him and AFO right now, after the prison escape I mean, just an update about them fighting for dominance (God that sounds bad) would have been nice.

The people reacting to ReDestro. I believe no civilians ever talked about him? And yet his company was pretty big, but now that he’s been exposed to have ties with the league none said anything. Also his ideology was said to be spreading but none seems to care that much.

Aaand that’s that. I probably forgot a couple of things but I think these are the more pressing matters. As I said I’m really disappointed.

Hori has shown us that he’s a capable writer and now he’s just... not doing too well story wise I guess? I hope he can come back up.

I don’t know. I feel a bit better at least.

Feel free to add or disagree just please be nice, I’m a fragile human.

#bnha 306 #bnha 305 #bnha 304 #bnha 303 #bnha 302 #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha meta #bnha analysis #my hero academia #spoiler #I don't remember what chapter midnight was #I'm tired #me

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danses-with-dogmeat · 3 years

Note

a romanced hancock reacting to sole wanting him to be a father figure in synth shaun's life?

Thank you so much for the ask anon!

So, I couldn't decide if I wanted to do more of a drabble or headcanons, so I just did both! I thought this prompt was really sweet, I hope you enjoy!

You stood in your shared room at the top of the Old State House, before the man in the red coat, the man you loved, awaiting his answer to your proposal. Having just asked him the question that had been patiently waiting at the back of your mind since the day that Shaun had come back into your life.

"Oh sunshine..." Hancock's gravelly voice broke the silence that had followed your question, "I'm beyond flattered that'd you'd ask that. I mean, I love that kid to pieces, but... you really think a ghoulified, blood-soaked, mega-junkie like me is the best fit for the kid to look up to?" The ghoul gave a soft chuckle, but Sole could see his brow furrowed slightly with uncertainty. A rare sight, given his usual gusto.

"Hancock," you said, in an attempt to reassure him, "you're a hell of a lot more than that. And Shaun is crazy about you, the reason I brought this up now was because he asked me when he could start calling you 'dad'." Hancock's dark eyes widened at your words and it took him a moment to answer.

"He- he did? Man... It's not too often I find myself at a loss for words but, I mean, me, a dad? I never thought that would've been possible, given my eh... present condition," He brought his hands up to gesture at his whole body. Your eyes never left his, the only change in your expression being a small smile, encouraging him to respond to your earlier question. Hancock sighed, taking a few steps towards you.

"So I suppose the thing I'm trying to say here is, I'm not sure I'm qualified for the position you're offering me." Your shoulders slumped at his words, you couldn't help but think he'd have been more receptive to the idea of being Shaun's new father. He may not be perfect, but he's one hell of an upgrade from the synth child's last "father."

"Look sunshine," Hancock decided to break the silence again, noticing your disappointed expression, "you sure you want this? I don't really tend to think of myself as 'daddy material'." You cocked an eyebrow at him, despite the weight of the conversation, you found yourself unable to keep a suggestive smile from spreading across your lips at his choice of words.

"Hey now, aren't you supposed to be the responsible one in this outfit?" Hancock quipped, his crooked smile imitating your own as he took another step closer. Before he could reach for you, you brought your hands up and grabbed ahold of his shoulders, trying to regain control of the conversation.

"Look, John, I know you don't always see it this way," you looked him in the eye, willing your next words to sink in, "but you really are an outstanding role model. I mean, look at all you've done for the people of Goodneighbor, and the Commonwealth. You're out there actively trying to make this wasteland a better place, lending a hand to the little guy and doing all you can to take down the tyrants. You're a skilled leader who genuinely cares about the people you're responsible for, you're fiercely protective of the ones you love, and of the ideals that you support. You're a good man, John. And I couldn't think of anyone better for Shaun to call 'dad'."

"Shit sweetheart, you really know how to make a ghoul blush. Tell me, how did I ever get so lucky to have you in my life?" He whispered softly, shaking his head slightly as he looked deep into your eyes. You couldn't help but blush at his comment and at his unrelenting smoky gaze, you looked down to break the tension for a moment.

"We're talking about you here, John, remember? So..." you trailed off, hoping to finally get a straight answer from him.

"So?" He asked.

"So, what do you say? You gonna make me ask you again, or what?"

"Look," he reached a ruined hand out to lightly take your own, his thumb rubbing soothingly over your knuckles, "you and that kid are the most important thing I've got going on in my life, and if you really want me around, then I'm not goin' anywhere. And for the first time in my life, I fucking mean it." He grasped your hand tightly, before you gently removed it from his own, instead bringing your arms up to pull him into a tight embrace, which Hancock happily leaned into, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.

"Just one thing..." you said, finally pulling away, "we might have to work on that foul mouth of yours."

"Don't worry sweetheart, if we're doing this thing, we're gonna do it right. I'll teach the kid all he needs to know. The real creative foul language, how to cure a hangover, where to get the best chems. All that important shit." You rolled your eyes playfully, mirth shining behind your dilated pupils as you stared into the eyes of your son's new father.

"Now, about that foul mouth of mine..." his hand slunk around your waist and pulled you into him as a mischievous grin spread across his lips a moment before they met yours.

And now, a few headcanons, for your consideration:

- After agreeing to act as Shaun's father, Hancock would seriously clean up his act. He may occasionally still take chems and drink (cuz, let's face it, he's still Hancock, and quitting cold turkey is hardly an option) but much less than he used to, and never around Shaun. This is only partly because he doesn't want to bring Shaun into that part of his life, but also it has a lot to do with his decreasing dependency on self-medicating. Being genuinely happy with his family, he doesn't feel as though he needs to escape.

- He would continue to be mayor of Goodneighbor, but would leave many of the day-to-day decisions to a committee (composed of Daisy, Fahrenheit, Dr. Amari, and an elected security guard). While Hancock, Sole and Shaun would live at another (more kid-friendly) settlement of Sole's choice.

- Hancock would actually excel at teaching Shaun. Whether it would be a shooting lesson, showing Shaun how to cook, teaching him to fish, or telling him about pre-war history (usually with a good amount of focus on the American revolution given his own fascination with it), even if Hancock wasn't extraordinarily knowledgeable, he would do his absolute best at helping Shaun get some form of an education.

- Once Sole was able to convince Hancock that Shaun liked his voice, rough as it may be, he would love to do bedtime stories. Even though Shaun is probably just getting old enough to outgrow them, he has a particularly hard time getting to sleep, and he soon finds that the ghoul's low, calm voice is a surefire way to drift off when the sun goes down.

- Hancock would be one of those parents that always looks like they know what they're doing, he would be patient during Shaun's tantrums, would be very focused on communication, and would have a nice blend of being protective of Shaun, but not to the point that it would be stifling. That being said, he would remain awfully uncertain and need constant reassurance from Sole, seeking their advice on almost everything to do with Shaun. Inside, he would have trouble realizing he's as good of a father figure to Shaun as everyone says he is. However, outwardly, he would be as confident as ever. Even fooling Nick into believing that he was completely at ease in the role of being Shaun's dad.

- He'd be killer at all of the popular kid games, playing hide and seek with Shaun when they visited the Old State House, or playing tag back in sanctuary, or even imagination games where he had to be the deathclaw and Shaun got to be Grognak the barbarian (do deathclaws exist in the Grognak universe? It doesn't matter, they do to Shaun). Hancock normally wouldn't let anyone win, he believes in playing fair, but occasionally for Shaun, he'd hide in the obvious places, or trip when running away in tag, or let it slide that Shaun says Grognak is strong enough to punch a deathclaw's head clean off in one hit. (Man, if only he could do that.)

- If other kids were bullying Shaun, Hancock would be the type of parent to bring the bully aside and have a frighteningly quiet conversation. And by conversation, I mean an in-depth description of what Hancock will do to the kid if he's mean to Shaun again. (Think of that scene at the beginning of the first Jurassic Park movie where the main character is describing to a kid how a velociraptor guts its prey and eats it alive. That's Hancock. Both the man, and probably the velociraptor too if the bully doesn't heed his warning.) Hancock wouldn't necessarily kill the kid for being mean to Shaun, but it's because he wouldn't have to, after his 'discussion' with the kid, he'll never even look at Shaun the wrong way again. Thankfully, the 'discussion' is all Hancock's ever had to do when kiddos are involved.

#fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 #hancock #sole survivor #fallout hancock #fo4 #fallout #fallout 4 headcanons #john hancock #fallout companions react

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waywardimpalawriter · 3 years

Note

“Kissing me breaks the promise… remember?" with Javier and can I please have a happy ending, I know it's angst prompts but.... :D Thank you!

Crazy Love

Pairing: Javier Peña x Plus Size Female Reader

Characters: Javier Peña, Steve Murphy, mentions Connie Murphy

Setting: After season one episode 7 ‘You will cry tears of blood’, five months after the events in ‘Heels’,

Rating: M (Mature), E (Explicit), NSFW, 18+ only please

Warnings: mentions of gun violence, almost killing a child, self hatred, smut, unprotected sex, Angry Javier (yes he needs a warning), angst, slight fluff at the end,

Summary: One slip up, reacting too quickly he could’ve ended the life of one way too young to fight the wars of old men. Thoughts filled with darkness, what if’s and self degradation. Wanting to loose himself in the only way he knows. To find because of you he can brave the dawn and the coming war.

Word count: 5,985 (with lyrics)

Notes: Thank you so much for the request sweetie, @autumnleaves1991-blog I hope you enjoy. Prompt in bold. The song used is ‘Crazy Love’ written by Van Morrison and preformed by various artists. This also a sequel to “Heel’s part 1” written some months back.

Tag List:

Forever’s: @chickensarentcheap @jedi-mando

Knuckles white with the grip he’s got on the steer wheel, eyes darting between the thin packed streets and Murphy with the baby in his arms. “What about the kid? Any ideas where to take her?”

Missing the shrug, with his eyes back on the road, “For now I’ll take her with us.” Smirk twitching his dark blond mustache with the look Javier pins him with at a stop light. “Don’t worry Javi she ain’t gonna stay with you. Poor darlin can’t live on whiskey and cigarettes. Though the parade of women might slow with her at your apartment.”

“There’s no parade jackass,” trying to focus on the road ahead and off what almost occurred three hours ago.

Subtle tick to his jaw knowing something’s bothering his partner about what went down. More to the point of how it went to shit and letting two high ranking Sicario slip through their fingers. “Wanna spill what’s eaten at you?”

“No just take care of the kid don’t need you play shrink in my head,” pulling up to the embassy, Javier kills the engine turning fully to look at Steve. “Care to share your explanation to Noonan or will you wing it?”

Shrugging Steve glances down into her sleepy eyes trying to figure out just what he’ll say. More importantly what he’s going to tell Connie. “I’m not,” looking back over at Peña seeing a raised brow. “I’ll take her home to Connie, figure out this shit as we go.”

“I’m sure Y/N would babysit,” mentioning you name cut deeply as the last month he’s put distance between the two of you. Continuing the relationship based solely on your sexual needs instead of the feeling he keeps buried.

“Doubtful, she’s working on transferring out. Packing I’m sure takes her time up right now,” seeing the scowling confusion drawing his brows down. “You knew she asked for a transfer right?”

“When?” Curses fill his mind. Directed fully at himself for letting the situation spiral out of control to the point you’ve become that notch on his bed post. Telling himself he’s going to let you go but never finding the courage to actually cut the strings. “She never mentioned taking a transfer. ”

The nights spent together you never mentioned a transfer. But then words rarely left either of your lips that’s not in passionate pleas wanting more or demands for completion. Conversations the first to go in the crumbling relationship, embraces followed not long after and the final straw added a month and a half ago. No kisses on the mouth anyway a promise you made him invoke to separate the past pleasures from the present stalemate.

Revisiting those thoughts often, Javier understood why you made the decision. One he hated but respected. Wondering most nights why you still let him inside your soft plush body instead of putting up a wall between the two of you. Shoving him out of your life fully. But then the transfer you didn’t speak of talked louder than any uttered words could.

“Two weeks ago, something about returning back to the States. Damn shame Y/N’s a fucking amazing secretary even better person. Why’d you go fuck things up for us both?” Wanting to knock some sense into Javier but a part of Steve understood the other man’s reasons for pushing you away. “Just let her go man this job she’s not fit nor can put up with the stress. I know I pushed at first but whatever you did to shover her away it’s for the best.”

“She’s a lot stronger than you know,” said more to himself than Steve. Other mans words hitting deeper than Javier would say, his fingers tightening around the leather steering wheel. “You don’t know shit Murphy.”

“I know a month ago things changed between the two of you.” Switching the baby to his other arm cradling her close to his chest. “Whatever happened she become withdrawn, stopped smiling as much,” piercing him with a hard stare. “Reverting back to the woman I first met when coming Bogota.” Glancing out the windshield Steve drag a hand over his face exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “ piece of advice either fess up explain what’s eaten at you or let her go.”

Selfishness claws at his mind wanting to keep you from leaving. From getting away not only from Columbia it’s self but from him. The realistic half needing you safe a world removed from the war starting to build back up. This afternoon’s events flash through his mind of how he almost killed a kid. A fucking kid who tried to protect the Sicario scum he chased and cornered. Would’ve had him had the kid not pulled a gun on him. The decision not to pull the trigger an easy one this time. But what about the next? Making him no better than the men he chases if he decided to take the shot so easily. Affirming those thoughts to let you go for your greater good and health.

“Javi?” Snapping fingers to gain his attention. “Deep in thought or just swimming the shallow waters?”

Scowl taking up home over his features, “Don’t worry about it doesn’t concern you.”

“Fuck you say, she’s my friend to Javi.” Shaking his blond head wondering how much pushing it’ll take before Peña would break. “Besides I think Connie has a good chance at kicking your ass if you do anymore damaged. She’s wanted to get her hooks into you for a while now.”

Almost chuckling at those words though it’s mirthless and self deprecating. “She’s next in line,” tossing the words out while starting the Jeep. Silence reigns on the drive over to their apartment, pulling up to the curb and letting Steve out.

Who pauses in the open door, “Heading to Y/N’s? Or back to the Embassy?”

“Paperwork,” impatiently waiting for Steve to shut the door.

Eager for some peace and time to think. He sees you standing in the doorway arms crossed under your generous breasts. For once actually studying your features taking in the fact you look somber, dressed in well loved jeans and baggy T-shirt. No makeup, though Javi told you a thousand times how beautiful you look without all those cosmetics painted on your face. Heart kicking up at the way your staring at him. Barely seen with you so far away but he knows there’s a softness shining in your eyes. Emotions he’s never tried to decipher in other women till you. Thoughts now run into each other, fears chasing after wanting so much but feeling undeserving.

Soft chuckle echos around the Jeep’s cabin making Javi glance at Steve, “Time better served explaining than useless paperwork.” Looking over his shoulder to find you gone, “Before it’s to late and she’s gone.” Door slamming shut, Steve leans in through the open window with a meaningful expression on his handsome face. Patting the inside slight nod of his blond head before turning to go inside leaving Javier with to many thoughts.

Pulling away from the curb happening to glance back towards the apartments catching you standing at the window. Hand pressed to the glass unreadable look on your face one he’s sure shows signs of displeasure and anger. With a blink your silhouette disappears heart clenching at the thought he’s just imagined you standing there. Another curse flies from his lip, palm forcefully slamming down on the steering column doing nothing to temper the anger boiling inside his mind. Instead Javier guns the engine taking off at a high rate of speed receiving numerous honks in irritated warning.

*************************

Letting the curtain fall back in place wild thumping of your heart pulsing out a rhythm that aches with every pound. Partly hating yourself for getting involved with a man incapable of having any kind of relationship other than sexual. Asking yourself why you keep letting him back into your bed, into your heart knowing it’ll just break in the end. Only one answer comes to mind and you push it firmly back into the dark abyss. Focusing on what you needed to done. Having struggled for the last two months with the decision to finally put in for a transfer home, away from Columbia and Javier Peña. Never an easy choice especially when you’ve fallen in love with a man who would never love you back.

Heavy knocking makes you jump in spot leaning against the wall by the window. Hand coming to rest against the quickly beating organ threatening to thump right outta your chest. Taking a breath trying to calm down from the freight you take small steps to eat up the distance towards the door. Another round of pounding has a scowl appearing wondering who would beat your door down at this time of evening.

“Hold your horses I’m comin’ already,” raising you voice loud enough to at least pause the noise.

Grasping the doorknob right when, “Hermosa,” his voice pulls your hand back almost as if the knob burned you with that very endearment. “Open up you can’t hide I know your there.”

“Go away Javier I’m not in the mood,” arms crossed glaring at the door. Pivoting on bare feet to track towards the kitchen going back to sorting through what your keeping and leaving behind. Freezing in place the unmistakeable sound of a key sliding into lock. Cursing the fact you never asked for the spare back and giving him one in the first place. Try as you might to make your feet move instead there rooted in spot when the door opens. “I didn't invite you in Javi turn your ass around and leave.”

Breath escaping quickly, eyes narrowing after searching the apartment he’s spent the last months in. Catching sight of half filled boxes, newspaper scattered over the coffee table, before landing on your furious features. Hands gripping wide hips, soft chin jutted out in annoyance while eyes spit anger burying the true feelings deep. “It’s true?”

“Why do you care?” Countering his words biting the inside of your cheek to keep tears from sliding coldly down your cooling skin. “Leave Javier,” exasperated and tired just wanting to move on, putting the relationship in the past.

Not two steps away his warm gun callused hand incloses around your wrist tugging and turning your plush body around to face him. “Not till you answer me.”

“We don’t talk about feelings remember Peña, your rules,” yanking your wrist free glare firmly in place.

Flinching at the harsh tone eyes scorching him with there intensity, his own somber and filled with regret. Deserving of those very words no matter how much they hurt. He moves forward for you to take one back reaching to grasp both shoulders. Taking another step out of his reach slow two step pattern finds your back pressed against the bar counter. Reminiscent of the first time you made love all those months ago. Except this time you’d stand strong push him away and not fall prey to those warm russet eyes filled with so many indescribable emotions.

“Stupid rule I never should’ve put in our relationship,” three feet of space between the two of you. Both chests heaving breaths eyes locked and searching. His eyes close drawing in your familiar scent letting it wash all the days stress clean for a single moment in time. Ear’s picking up the quick beating of your heart wishing as his eyes open a smile would bloom over those kissably soft lips.

“But you did and there’s no taking it back now,” firm stance starting to crumble under the weight of emotions filtering through his dark eyes.

Half way to reaching out his hands drop back to fist at his sides, “I’m sorry hermosa I didn’t mean…” unsure how to fix what’s broken. Never good at speaking his feelings even when the need presents its self.

I can hear her heart beat for a thousand miles

And the heavens open every time she smiles

And when I come to her that's where I belong

Yet I'm running to her like a river's song

“What’d want from me Javier?” Pleading tone arms crossed to close your body off. Putting up a defense against the one man who’s managed to crumble every wall surround your heart. To starve off the bubbling emotions threatening to spill over and consume you.

Closing the small gap, callused hands cup both cheeks, fingers spread from apples to jawlines. Brushing his thumbs under your eyes his own pleading and soft ‘the puppy’ look you nicknamed it two weeks into the relationship. “To kiss you.”

Swallowing harshly, “Kissing me breaks the promise… remember?" Willing your body not to react, not to turn and place kisses to his palm. Nuzzling the warmth drawing peace from his comforting touch. “We made rules you know how I feel about kissing Javi.”

Almost two months ago things started to fall apart. Always asking yourself why you still let him into your bed and body. Part of you knowing the space carved Javier hole in your heart will never close. Not even denying the both of you those intimate kisses could change the fact he’s wormed his way through defenses long held too fall in love with your DEA agent.

“I know mi amor,” sliding one hand down from your face to wrap his arm around your thick waist. Pulling you flush into his embrace and against his body. Turning the both of you so it’s his back pressed into the counter. Savoring the softness wishing you’d hold him. Run your fingers through his hair and chase away the stress currently resurfacing with your tense posture. “I don’t want you to leave.” No truer words spoken ones that cut his very soul with the implications of what could happen if he didn’t take Steve’s advice.

Agony rips a new hole in your heart at his words, at the endearment dripping from those sinful lips. “You don’t mean that.” Eyes close to keep from staring into russet browns. Trying not to give in and foolishly hope he means what he speaks.

“I do hermosa,” eyes popping open at the barest brush of his chapped lips against yours, widen orbs find his shut, brow furrowed. “I don’t want to loose you.”

“Javier,” breathlessly whispering his name. The intensity of Javi’s declaration scares you not wanting to believe for a second his words ring true. Not when so many broken promises lay at your feet. Yet, if there’s one thing you know about Javier Peña he’s honest, never lying to you about what he wanted. Holding back sure, not letting you in those tightly held defenses of his own fuck yes, but lie to you never. Those thoughts make others chase after. Ones that scare you into thinking you’ve made a huge mistake by asking for the transfer. Could you leave his man who holds your heart? Walk away from a relationship that’s possibly just hitting a rough patch? So engrossed in those thoughts you don’t realize he’s tipping your chin up to angle your head in the prefect position to slot his mouth over yours.

Javier’s restraint having snapped with his name slipping from your bitten lips, wanting to meld the two of you together in the only way he knows how. Showing you with his body what his words couldn’t express. Javier captures your mouth in a bruising kiss filled with demands. Teeth biting at your lips, dragging plump bottom in to abuse with nibbles and soothing over with his tongue. Harsh gasp blown from your mouth giving him access to the warm cavern. Drinking from your well, tasting your flavor on his tongue always returning for more. Tangling together as his arm tightens around your soft waist.

Garnering a moan of need from deep within your chest. Attacking his mouth with your own, fingers coming into play by carding through those thick mahogany strands tugging harshly. Receiving a growl in return that vibrates down to your very core clit throbbing in response to his rough actions.

Mouths parting to gather air, “I need you hermosa please,” desperation coloring his tone foreheads resting together. The hand still cupping your cheek slides around to gently cup the back of your head. “I need…” swallowing hard, fighting to keep from taking you hard and fast right there. Burying the fear and pain, the anger and worry into your soft gentle body. Letting you sooth the demons threatening to consume his soul. But he couldn’t, promising to never show that side of himself to you.

Those thoughts in mind Javier moves in to kiss you only to chase your mouth till you place fingers over his searching lips. Seeing a spark of need in he eyes that’s closed away before fully blooming. Leading you to remember a conversation the two of you had at the on set of your relationship. Knowing what he needed and how, you step back watching his features fall with his arms to the side.

Only to have confusion replace the crestfallen expression as you tug the t-shirt up and off your body. Standing in just your panties and jeans, “I told you a long time ago Javier I’m not made of glass this body…” hands gliding up from your waist to soft tummy and generous breasts. “Won’t break if your rough with me.” Heat sparking in eyes that will him to listen, give in and take you. “If I’m staying and we work this out you’ll have to let me in.”

Each word hits him hard square in the heart, “I don’t want to hurt you cariño.”

“You already have Javier,” head dropping you go to tug your shirt back on. Only to have it ripped from your hand and tossed somewhere unseen. That soft gasp making his heart beat triple time. Strong arms wrap around your body to bring you back into his warmth. “Fix what you broke.”

There’s no gentleness to the possessive kiss Javier captures your mouth with. Large warm hands grip your plush ass to press into your tummy the thick ridge of his jeans covered erection. Low growl slipping passed parted gasping lips that angle for the right spot to draw those whimpers and moans he can never get enough of. Separating long enough to have you rip his tan button up open, little plastic disks pinging off the wall and tiled floor. Scoring your short nails over his soft tummy, toying with the button of his jeans.

“Fuck,” hissing through kiss swollen lips that attack your neck with bitting teeth. Wanting to mark each inch of you in reminder to himself of who you derive your pleasure from. “Do that again,” demanding cadence gets a soft smirk to spread over your bitten lips.

Keeping your eyes lock, breath existing quickly because of the passionate kiss. Short nails rake up his chest and leave little red lines behind. Detouring to pinch his pebbled tight nipples receiving another low growl against the skin of your collarbone. Where his mouth sucks a purpling mark laving his tongue over the bruising skin. Enjoying the shutter he feels race down your spine.

Pushing the shirt from his shoulders Javier raises his head to stare into your desire darken eyes. “Fuck me Javier till I can’t walk tomorrow.”

Simple words ignite a passion and deep seated need inside his body to claim and wreak you. Clothing becomes nothing more than obstacles in the way of having naked skin against his own. The two of your fumbling with buttons and zippers. His parting on a sigh of relief as you push the fabric to pool around his ankles. Nimble fingers brushing through course little hairs. Leading your hand to wrap around his shaft. Thick girth barely covered by your hand that you pump along heated velvet skin.

Smirking at the groaning string of Spanish curses falling from his lips. Only replaced by the pout, when he brushes your hand away. Mouth still just inches from yours brushing taking another sip from your lips. Drowning in the taste of your mouth, the feel of your plump lips against his. Devouring the pout and only breaking to whisper, “Later princesa.” Toeing off boots and soak covered feet pressing out of jeans, naked as on his born day for your eyes to devour.

Becoming insnared with his beauty far too long for Javier’s liking. Lips licked slowly watching the bob of his jutting cock. Mouth watering in want of a taste. Quick breaths expanded his soft covered muscular chest your hands itch to dust over. His handsomeness distracting you to the point a squeal issues from the back of your throat when he pulls you by the belt loops towards the couch. Skilled fingers making quick work of getting your jeans undone warm palms sliding the fabric down your body.

Javier drops back into the couch bringing you between his spread knees and placing kisses to your tummy. Nuzzling the underside of your breasts. Looking up to ensnare your vision with his own desire filled gaze. Strong arms holding you in place while eyes close, nose rubbing into your soft scantly skin resting his head on your tummy. Hands coming up to card through his hair gently this time tugging the locks and wrapping his shoulders with your arms. Emotions clogging your throat burning with the need to release the tears of mixed feelings.

Moaning head tossing back when his warm tongue peeking out to teasing the taut nipples his hands tug your panties down. Becoming impatient and ripping the thin cotton from your body. Making you gasp and look down into those desire blacken eyes you choose happily to drown in. “You’ll…” swallowing your words on a moan as those thick skilled fingers draw through your folds. Tapping your clit several times and retreating to slide inside your clinching walls.

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

She's got a fine sense of humor when I'm feeling low down

And when I come to her when the sun goes down

Take away my trouble, take away my grief

Take away my heartache, in the night like a thief

“I’ll buy you more cariño and go with you to help pick out certain ones,” giving you a cheeky wink. Groaning with the feel of slick coating his fingers, smirk in place when your hands brace on his shoulders to keep from tipping over into his arms. Pulling his fingers out to suck them clean making sure your watching his every move. The resounding whimper he draws out brings the same smug grin too tug at his lips. Gripping the back of your thick thighs to spread your stance and slot his own knees between.

Pulling you down against him knees on either side of his thighs. Hiss issued at the contact of your dripping folds coating his shaft trapped between your bodies. Rolling hips to tease your own hands gripping the back of the couch to brace yourself while raising up. Deep moan breaks from your chest when Javier draws the fat cock head through your folds. Circling your clit as your hips match the movements. Waiting till he’s notched himself at your entrance before slamming down against him.

Head tossing back at the stretch and burn of him splitting you open gasps of delight echo and play with the groans from Javier. Who grips your hips, holding you against him for a time face buried in your chest. Hot mouth searching out blindly latching onto your right nipple to bite down just hard enough to make your quivering channel squeeze him tightly.

“Fuck,” single word mumbled against your skin. When you start to move setting a quick pace that’s hard and demanding. Head dropping back between your gripping hands. String of curses and praise leave his lips. “Just like that hermosa, so fucking wet for me,” grunting into your mouth that came to fuss to his. Sharing breaths while you move against his body.

Taking possession of his pleasure with a kiss that’s deep and hungry. Devouring the sounds he makes with each quick roll of your hips. Pressing your generous breasts against the hard plains of his chest, nipples brushing his skin as his own hands grip your thick soft waist. Leaving behind bruises with how tightly he holds you. One hand gliding over sweat slicked skin to cup a full ass cheek giving a squeeze before landing a hard slap.

Movements falter with the stinging pleasure coursing through your veins, “Javi.” Kiss breaking breathlessly to catch his eyes. Seeing the indecision clearly written, you nod leaning to brushing your lips over his ear, “Again please.”

Mouth buries against the spot where shoulder and neck meet, planting his feet firmly to thrust into your welcoming cunt quicker. Letting a moment pass till he lands another smack to the other ass cheek. Soothing the pain with his warm palm, “Like that princesa?” Drawing his nose over the sweaty expanse of his throat tossed back on a gasp. Bearing your neck to his hungry gaze and mouth.

Taking advantage to bite and suck, thick mustache abrading your skin in the most delicious of ways. Sending tingles to dance across your skin making your clit throb with each hard pound of his cock deep inside your quivering walls. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders for leverage as your knees sink into the couch and you bounce on Javier’s cock. Thick thighs shaking as orgasm builds quicker than you thought possible.

“Yes,” whimpering out in answer. Both hands cup your ass helping you move against him. Sweat slicked shoulders make for a tough grip movements becoming choppy and sloppy. Low whine bubbles from the back of your throat needing more but unsure how to say.

Javier picks up on the destress, pulling out making the whine lengthen. “Lay back on the couch for me hermosa,” seeing the confusion in your gaze. Javi tugs you to sit in the corner of the couch, pulling till your almost flat and he crawls between those thick thighs he wants wrapped around his waist.

Sliding back inside of you on a groan, “Still so tight for me princesa I could stay buried in your pretty pussy forever never growing tired of having your surround me.”

“Javi,” heat flares across your body at his words, face buried in your palms. Only to have them pulled and placed on his chest. Shocked yet pleased with his sentiments, the way he growls out the words setting off tingles dancing down your spine.

Gasping when he pulls out resting just the tip before surging back angling to hit that little spot only he’s managed to discover inside you. Right leg draped over his hip left dangling off the couch as your hands scrap and grope at his shoulders. Strong arms press on either side of you holding himself up while rocking his hips into yours. Setting a fast and hard pace that has you gasping, moans of incoherent words tumble from your mouth that hangs open trying to gather breath.

Watching with hooded eyes, drinking in the way you look, the passion morphing your features never wanting to let you go. To always see you in the throws of pleasure he delivers to your body. Praying to whoever will listen that you’ll stay. Those thoughts creating a fire inside his body that moves quicker.

Wanting to show you his feelings by repeatedly burying his cock deep inside your throbbing cunt. Loving your soft thick body with his mouth latching onto a breast. Nipping skin and taunt nipples, curling his tongue before biting down and switching to the twin. Feeling your nails score his back and shoulders only driving on his own pleasure.

Needing you to cum first though, Javier slides one hand between your slick bodies to caress your clit with tight circles of pressure. Smirking into your flesh when you gasp and squirm under him. His name breathlessly spoken to the heavens your back arching off the couch. “That’s my girl cum for me amor soak my cock.”

“Javier,” fingers card through his hair pulling his mouth back to yours. Tender and sweet nothing like the previous kisses as you pour your heart out to the man pounding you into the couch. Foreheads rest together, moans dripping from your lips brushing against his trying to hold back to draw out the pleasure. Afraid of the final moment he finds completion and walks out of your life maybe for good this time. “I love you,” unable to stop those three words from tumbling out. Orgasm slamming through your body with the hard thrusts of Javier’s hips. Crying out his name, arching against him breath stuck along with tears in your throat.

Swearing he heard things, Javier’s pace stuttered but his heart pounds quicker. Hips having a mind of their own as his body rushes to completion. Cumming harder than he’s ever in his life, filling your clinching walls with hot stick seed. Strength evaporated from his arms collapsing into your embrace. Burying his face in your neck, hot moist breath fanning out over your skin. Small after shocks roll through both your bodies garnering whimpers and moans from both of you.

Time, unsure of how much passes while you card fingers through his sweat slicked hair. Enjoying this moment, basking in the after glow of your love making while praying it’s not the end.

“Don’t leave,” words whispered into your skin so low there barely caught. Wondering if you’ve heard things your fingers pause watching on stuttering breath as Javier raises his head to stare into your eyes. Wondering if you meant what you said or just caught up in the pleasurable sex and let it out. It’s on the tip of his tongue to ask when you beat him to the punch.

“I… I…” words lost in the jumble of your mind unsure what to say. Fearful your passionate declaration went unheard or worse ignored.

Cupping your cheek surprised to find tears tracking down your cheek, “Don’t leave me Y/N please.”

Searching his bright russet eyes confused till you see what he’s really saying. Realization blooming across your mind your own hand coming up to embrace his cheek. Thumb swiping over the apple, “I’ll speak to Noonan.” Bringing his mouth down to yours for a soft sweet kiss.

“Do you really love me?” Foreheads resting together breath held, his eyes closed tightly fearing the answer.

Shocked he’s asking. Remembering the times you tried to get him to talk about his feelings becoming shut down pushing the conversation away or distracting you with kisses and sex. With the lengthening silence Javier dares to open his eyes catching the soft expression in yours that cracks his frozen heart.

“I wouldn’t say those words if I didn’t mean them Javi you know that,” continuing to brush your fingers over his stubbled jaw. Up into his soft sweaty hair to gently scratch his scalp knowing how much he enjoys when you do. Rewarded with a low purr from the back of his throat. “What happened today baby?”

Fear keeps him quiet for a moment till, “I almost killed a kid.” Lowering his stare to map your skin with his eyes adding the marks he left behind to his memory. Fear returning now that you’ve heard how much of a monster he’s turning into.

“Did you shoot?” There’s no accusations or incrimination, voice softly seeking a way to help sooth the demons you saw when he first arrived.

Carefully pulling from your warm depths and embrace to sit on the edge of the couch face buried in his hands. Missing the whimper at loosing his touch. You grab for the blanket draped over the back to cover yourself in self consciousness. Moving carefully to sit up and lean against his shoulder. Fingers carding through his hair slowly while placing the other around his waist. Waiting till he’s ready to start speaking not wanting to push.

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

Yes I need her in the daytime

Yes I need her in the night

Yes I want to throw my arms around her

Kiss her hug her kiss her hug her tight

Welcoming warmth enveloping his body that cleaves into you. Baritone rough with emotions, “No I couldn’t pull the tigger, didn’t want to shoot some kid who’s stupidly following the orders of a man who doesn’t care about him.”

“Listen to me Javi you’re not Escobar you’ll never have that narcissistic attitude.” Turning his face to look at you, brushing the stubble with your fingertips. “Yes you’ve done some questionable things for good reasons to take down this asshole who would gladly see all of Columbia burn just to get and keep what he wants.” Leaning in to brush your nose against his, “I couldn’t love a man who killed people for kicks Javier. That’s not what you do. You save people, protect them as best you can.”

Unworthiness filtering through his thoughts never expecting to find someone who loved him faults and all. Intertwining his fingers with the hand previously on his cheek bring the back to his lips to place a kiss. “I don’t deserve you hermosa,” swallowing harshly letting your hand go to stand. Unconcerned with his nakedness Javier stretches popping his back then looking down at you.

Worry etched in those beloved eyes that stare unblinkingly at the spot he just vacated. “Leaving now?” Biting off the words tears clouding your vision mistaking his declaration as rejection pulling the blanket tighter around your plush body.

Forefinger and thumb pinching the end of your soft chin raising your gaze to meet his, “Why would I leave when everything I want and love rests with you.”

“Javier?” Voice wobbling with unshed tears.

Pulling the blanket from your body taking in the curves and dips, the softness he’s itching to get his hands back on. But right now Javier brings the nearest hand to his lips, brushing the knuckles with his mouth mustache tickling your skin. Keeping your eyes locked as he tugs you up into his arms. “I’m serious Y/N I don’t deserve you but without you I’m a shell of a man,” bringing his free hand up to cup your cheek deep russet eyes burning with love staring into yours.

“What are you saying?” Fear coating the words, afraid it’s all a dream and you’ll wake without Javier beside you.

Drawing your mouth closer, strong arm wrapping around your thick waist, “I’m saying I love you Y/N and if you’ll have me I’m yours till you kick me out for driving you crazy.”

“You already do that Javi,” watery giggles escaping your lips that brush his twice. Reaching up to card fingers through the soft strands at the back of his head tugging just a little harder than normal. “Say it again.”

Grunting at the tugs sliding a hand down to cup a generous bare ass cheek to give a squeeze. “Drive you crazy.”

Just barely holding in the squeak, “No,” eyes rolling at his cheek. “You know what I mean Javier Peña.”

“I do,” slotting his mouth against yours stealing the breath from your lungs as he kisses you with a passion never felt before. Barely breaking to mumble those three simple words into your lips, “I love you.” Getting lost in your kiss while silently vowing to never let you go or break your heart.

And when I'm returning from so far away

She gives me some sweet lovin' brighten up my day

Yes it makes me righteous, yes it makes me feel whole

Yes it makes me mellow down in to my soul

#Request #Sequel to Heel's #Javier Peña x Plus Size Female Reader #Javier Peña x Plus Size Fem! Reader #Javier Peña x Plus Size F!Reader #Female Reader #Smut

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milstrim · 3 years

Text

Comfort in My Shadow

Chapter 3: You Oughta Know

By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter’s not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he’d always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

---

Tony dropped down onto the grass near an empty playground just by the water, laying Spidey on the ground gently before breaking his way out of the suit. The mechanic kneeled beside the teenager, grabbing his wrist and tearing the webshooter off of it. He pressed two fingers against the boy's wrist, sighing in relief when he could make out a surprisingly strong pulse. The relief only lasted for a moment before he moved onto the fact that the kid still wasn't moving.

Hesitating for only a moment, he reached for the mask.

A hand shot up just as his fingers brushed against the fabric, slapping his own hand away sloppily. Tony didn't mind, only letting out a sigh and sinking back onto his knees in relief as Spidey sat up, coughing so hard his whole body shook. The kid tore his mask up to his nose to throw up mouthfuls of murky water before settling back onto his elbows and pulling the mask back down harshly. Tony resisted the urge to pat the kid on his back, instead keeping his hands wrung and watching the vigilante sharply.

He coughed, "Uh, hey, Mr. Stark."

"Hey, kid." Tony offered him a smile. "Jeez, I leave you alone for one day and you almost drown. I think you're more danger prone than me, if that's possible."

"Yeah, you'd be surprised," Spidey said, sitting up farther before freezing and turning to regard Tony suspiciously. "How did you find me? Did you put a tracker on me or something?"

"No. No, kid, I didn't, I promise. My AI's been keeping an eye out for you, and she seemed to think you were in trouble."

"You're spying on me?"

"No, not--I'm not spying on you, kid," Tony rushed to assure. He paused and then conceded with the decency to shrug in embarrassment. "Okay, sorta maybe. Yeah. I'm kinda spying on you, but I also just saved your life, so."

"I had it," Spidey muttered, but it was ruined by another cough. Tony raised an eyebrow at him. "I did! At least, until that vulture guy showed up."

"Vulture guy?"

In a flurry of words, Spider-Man explained, and Tony was happy to listen. He was happy to hear anything the kid was willing to say to him, even if it began with him stalking out a weapons deal and ended with a man with metal wings grabbing him out of the air.

"--and then he just, he just, like, swooped down like a monster and he picked me up and, uh, he took me up, like, a thousand feet and just dropped me!"

Tony shook his head, wishing desperately he could see beyond the suit at any injuries the kid may have as he reattached his webshooter. He did seem okay though, if a little thin, if the way the soaked suit practically hung off of him was anything to go by.

"What were you thinking?" Tony asked, unable to keep the scornful fear from his voice.

"The guy with the wings is obviously the source of the weapons that I've been seeing. I gotta take him down!"

"Take him down now, huh? Steady, Crockett, there are people who handle this sort of thing."

"The Avengers?"

"No. No, no. This is a little below their pay grade," Tony explained. Spidey's eyes narrowed at him. "Look, forget the flying vulture guy, please."

"What? No! He's putting weapons out on the street, my street, I've gotta keep looking for him."

Tony pursed his lip, resisting the urge to argue further and wrap this kid up in bubble wrap. He relented, for the time being. "Fine. I won't stop you."

"Not like you could anyway."

"You're meaner than I remember."

"Yeah, well, get used to it I guess."

"Does that mean I get to hang out with my soulmate from now on? Possibly know their name?"

Spidey froze, staring past Tony in a tired manner. He slumped down onto the grass dramatically. "What time is it?"

"You're not gonna run out on me or anything are you? Or if you do, can you at least leave something behind for me? Like, a boot maybe?"

"Are you calling me Cinderella?"

"Sure. Cinder-kid. Cinder-whatever-your-name-is."

Spider-Man turned his head to glare at his persistent fishing. "I'm surprised you don't already know."

"I've got a list. Twenty-eight kids so far."

"I'm not a kid," he mumbled. Tony smirked.

"Nice try. I know your birthday." Spider-Man groaned. "Still no name?"

A moment. "Ben."

"There's no Ben on the list," Tony answered immediately.

"What, you just have that memorized?" When Tony didn't answer, save for the raise of an eyebrow, the kid groaned again. "If I tell you my name will you please tell me the time?"

Tony checked his watch. "8:17."

A very long, very tense moment before finally, "Peter."

"There's no Peter on the list either."

"Then your list sucks." Tony stared at him. "I'm not lying, you just need to be better at being a detective."

After a moment, Tony accepted it, though he didn't completely believe it. "Fine. Nice to meet you, Peter. I'm Tony."

"Yeah, I knew that."

"Are you always this mean or are you just in a bad mood?"

Peter ducked his head guiltily. "Sorry. Just kinda hungry. I didn't--uh, I didn't eat dinner. Yet."

"I can fix that," Tony said, holding out a hand. Peter stared at it for a moment before hesitantly taking it and allowing for Tony to pull him up. Both of them glanced at where their shadows switched. Peter tensed before tearing his hand away and shoving it in his pocket. Tony tried to not let his hurt show.

Peter let out a groan of annoyance, distracting Tony from where he'd been staring at the switched shadows to look at the kid, who had pulled out a phone as wet as it was cracked. The billionaire grimaced just looking at it.

"Yikes. If you need to call your parents, I have my phone with me."

Spidey winced. "No, uh, it's fine. Just, ah, I left my friend at a party, he's probably wondering where I'm at."

"Okay. If you're sure," Tony said. Peter nodded. "So, dinner?"

"I'm okay, Mr. Stark. I've got to get back to the party. My friend's mom is picking us up in an hour."

"Then, can we talk?" Peter dug his boot into the ground in such a childish manner it physically hurt. He clearly didn't want to talk, but that didn't stop Tony. "Here and now would be preferable."

"About what?" the kid rasped.

"A few things. The fact that we're soulmates, why you got involved in this, why you run around as a vigilante in the first place--"

"--I literally told you last night--"

"--and why you ran away yesterday," Tony finished, ignoring him.

"I have a curfew."

"What's your curfew?"

"Ten," Spidey muttered.

"So you were already late. If you'd waited a little bit longer I probably could've explained to your parents why you were late."

Spidey's head shot up, eyes narrowing. "That I was out being a vigilante?"

"That you were meeting your soulmate."

"Oh. That." The boot scuffed against the ground again, and Tony tried not to let his sullen voice get to him. "I don't think he would've cared."

That sounded horribly wrong to Tony's ears. He asked incredulously, "Your dad wouldn't have cared that you met your soulmate?"

"He's not my dad."

Oh.

"Who do you live with then?"

"Group home," Peter answered with a shrug. "Our curfew has no exceptions, so."

Tony hesitated. "Peter, can you take off your mask?"

"Why?"

"I mean, why not? I already know your name and birthday. I can find you pretty easily."

"I'm okay, Mr. Stark. I'm good. Besides, I should be getting back to my friend, so."

Peter moved to walk away, but Tony grabbed his arm hastily, desperate for this not to be how his first real meeting with his soulmate to go. Peter flinched immediately, and the mechanic let go as the kid stumbled back. That horrible suspicion in his chest only grew.

"Sorry," Tony apologized as Peter continued to stare at him. This wasn't going how he had envisioned at all. Soulmate meetings were usually thought of with an air of overwhelming happiness, maybe a few shed tears and a lot of hugs. But all Tony had was a first name, a smattering of depressing facts, and the knowledge that this kid didn't want anything to do with him. "Not an Iron Man fan, huh?"

Peter shrugged, but Tony noted it as a small victory that the tension leaked out of his small frame. "Thor's actually my favorite, so."

"Well, as long as it isn't Mr. America, then I'm good." There was an awkward silence only broken by the mechanical whir of Spidey's goggles as he glanced to the side, clearly searching for an escape. Tony bit down a sigh. "Go back to your party, kid. I'll see you around?"

"Sure. See you around, Mr. Stark."

Well, he didn't sound completely miserable about it, so Tony counted it as a win. He watched as the kid swung off of the trees back towards the neighborhood, a hint of hope warring with his hurt. Only once the hood slipped off of his shadow did the mechanic start moving again, stepping into the suit, which lit up as he fired into the sky.

"Okay, Fri. Find me a kid named Peter born on August tenth, 2001 with all the earlier guidelines."

"There isn't one, sir."

Tony thought for a moment. "Oh! Remove siblings as a statistic, look for one in a group home instead."

"One match."

"Save it to the file. I'll check it out when I get home."

---

Toomes stared at the retreating figure of the Iron Man suit, his mask highlighting the flying hunk of metal before he turned away to stare at the playground where he and Spider-Man had been talking. Peter, apparently. Stark's soulmate.

He'd have to be careful, very careful, about how he played this.

Adrian had been set on flying away immediately after dropping the vigilante so that he could chew out Brice for being so reckless, but the sight of the Iron Man suit dipping under the water had stopped him. What the hell was the billionaire doing near his house? It had made him wary enough for him to dive down and perch a football field's length away, allowing for his helmet to pick up on the two's conversation.

That decision had probably been one of the best ones of his entire life. The kid was clearly very insistent to go after him and his business, while Stark not so much, but that didn't stop the fact that Peter was clearly desperate to take him down and had Iron Man even more clearly wrapped around his little finger. That was dangerous, and it was bad for business.

After checking once more that Iron Man was no longer nearby, he shot back up into the air towards his warehouse as he made a note to put Mason u[ to finding out who this Peter-kid was and he searched through multiple names in his personnel, looking for the best to keep an eye on the kid. No one was going to mess with his business. With his family.

---

"Alright," Tony said as he entered the lab through the window, stepping out from his suit and back over to his desk. He grimaced at where the web fluid had exploded over the desk while he'd been gone. Hopefully that would fizzle out in an hour or two. "What have you got for me, Fri?"

A screen popped up immediately, and Tony was shown his first true glimpse of his soulmate's face. His heart tugged both at the adorableness of the kid pictured in front of him and the fact that he was seeing the kid for the first time through a screen. He shook it aside, taking in the kid in front of him.

Peter.

The yearbook photo left the smile hilariously forced but no less adorable, especially with the way the kid's eyes read embarrassment and boredom in only a way a teen's could. His hair was tamed down generously for picture day, but a few stray curls forced their way loose. Somehow, he was exactly what Tony had imagined.

"Okay. Full life synopsis. Let's go," he ordered the AI.

"Peter Benjamin Parker was born on August tenth, 2001, to Mary and Richard Parker, both head researchers at Oscorp before their deaths in 2006 in a plane crash. Guardianship was transferred to Richard's brother and sister-in-law, Ben and May Parker. They were killed during a mugging six months ago."

"Yikes, kid. Not a super easy time for you, huh?" Tony glanced at the picture of the kid again. "Where does he live now?"

"At the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys under the guardianship of Andrew Fowler."

"Pull up his file. Any records of abuse or illegal activities?"

"Fowler has two DUI's from when he was nineteen and twenty-three, but nothing else. Nothing unusual about him, boss."

Tony hummed, crossing his arms and pursing his lips. After all of Peter's little flinches and shakes, he was still skeptical, but with nothing to prove, he left it alone. For now.

"Mr. Parker does, however, have a record."

His head turned. "He does?"

"He does." Multiple files were shoved in his face. "Nothing serious, sir, but he has multiple accounts of sneaking out and degenerate behavior. Smoking, loitering, and two misdemeanors."

Tony hesitated for a moment, but shrugged it off. He was a kid who'd had a rough life, and, really, Tony had done some similar shit when he was the kid's age, and the sneaking out could be easily waved off by Peter's vigilante actions. He moved on.

"How's the suit coming along?"

"Trials are finished and ready for 3D printing. All that's left is the fluid, boss."

Tony glanced at the table still completely covered with the white formula. He grimaced. "We'll deal with that later. Go ahead and print the suit, and I'm gonna need a couple of things before we completely shut down for the night."

---

I, Peter thought, am an idiot.

After returning to the party, he had changed back into his regular clothes and managed to draw Ned out from the crowd, who had been more than a little confused at his dripping wet hair and slightly bruised face.

"Dude," Ned had asked. "What the hell happened? What happened to the plan?"

"Sorry," Peter had muttered. "There was some weapons dealers. They got the drop on me and dropped me in the lake. And, uh, I met Mr. Stark again."

Ned had gasped. "Really!? Oh, my gosh, is he here? Can I meet him?"

"No, he left, Ned. He saved me actually."

"This is the coolest! You're superhero buddies!" He'd gasped again. "Oh, my God! Are you Iron Man's sidekick?"

"What? No, Ned. I'm not his sidekick." I'm his soulmate, which was honestly worse. Peter would be a better sidekick than a soulmate. "It was probably just, like, a favor thing since I saved him yesterday."

"Super. Hero. Buddies."

There hadn't been any arguing with Ned, he'd been too excited. But, thankfully, the arrival of Iron Man had distracted his friend from going back to the party and they'd called his mom so they could leave early. Not ready to take anymore chances that night, he'd asked Mrs. Leeds to drop him off right at the group home. Mr. Fowler hadn't been there when Peter had tiptoed through the door, so he'd just slipped up the stairs and taken a hot shower, not even bothering to try and take something from the kitchen. He didn't have the heart for another strike.

His spider sense had been going off the entire time, just like it had when he'd been talking with Mr. Stark. It had prevented him from falling asleep that night, thankfully it had been a Friday. But the fact that his senses wouldn't calm down, even now on Saturday morning, was more than a little concerning. Was he dying? Maybe it was the lack of food? Or were his senses trying to warn him about Mr. Stark?

That was the worst thought of all, but it'd popped into his mind whenever he'd caught sight of his shadow while he was eating breakfast the next morning. Everyone in the group home was at the table to watch his nervous jitters as he tried not to look too starved while eating his cereal. Tim and Eric had glanced at him a lot, clearly desperate for him to play some games with them today. The other two younger boys, Aaron and Juan, were much more calm, staring down at the table in an attempt to not draw attention to themselves. Though Jeremiah was winning that competition.

Mr. Fowler sat at the head of the table, a plate of eggs and bacon sitting idly in front of him as he rifled through the mail with annoyed mutters. The man had a lot of junk mail--seriously, he had more magazine subscriptions than Peter could count--so the boys could usually tell when he finally stumbled across something he liked in the mail. His muttering would pause, the rifling would stop, and he would hum in approval before setting the piece of paper aside. This morning, he found something he clearly didn't care for.

Mr. Fowler's muttering paused, the rifling stopped, and Peter waited for the quiet hum, but instead there was a displeased grunt. Heads turned as the junk mail smacked onto the table and a vanilla letter stood out in Mr. Fowler's hands with large letters scrolled on the front of it. Peter's name sat scrawled on the corner.

"Who the heck is 'TS?'" Mr. Fowler asked, glancing at the letter again. "With no return address?"

Peter panicked, almost choking on his off-brand Cheerios as he searched for an excuse that wasn't as flimsy as a feather.

"It's, uh, a pen pal. Thing."

Sure. Not flimsy at all, Parker.

"A pen pal?"

Peter nodded. "Yep. Um, through--through school. It's new. And we deliver them, by ah, ourselves. I delivered mine yesterday, so, no return address?"

"Fun... What's their name?"

He took another bite of his food to stall, mumbling through the soggy cereal, "Tony."

"Tony...?"

"Smart." Mr. Fowler glanced at him. Idiot, idiot, idiot. "Yeah. Tony Smart. He goes to Bronx... Anyway can I have that letter please?"

With a grumble, Mr. Fowler tossed the letter on the table in front of Peter. He quickly pocketed it, finishing his cereal as fast as humanly possible and placing it in the dishwasher. He passed by the table, promising to help the other kids with their dishes and their homework, before walking out the door and sitting on the steps outside the small and rundown building, ignoring the way his senses were still going off.

Peter muttered confusions under his breath as he pulled the surprisingly thick letter out of his hoodie, turning it over in his hands once before finally ripping it open. There were four things inside. He grabbed the letter first, unfolding it to read the loose lettering scrawled inside.

Dear, Mr. Parker,

Letters aren't really my thing. I'm more of a talker, as you may have realized last night, so I've left a new Starkphone in the envelope to replace the one you broke last night. For talking. And whatever the hell teenagers do with phones too.

Peter blinked, narrowing his eyes and his chin dropping as he fished the phone out of the envelope. It was horribly expensive under his fingers and he immediately flushed as he thought about how much it must cost. He didn't think it was even on the market yet. He shook his head and blinked furiously, returning to the letter.

I've also included a Stark Industries badge that will get you into the tower for the next week or so until we move to the compound. You'll receive a new one once badges are printed for the Avengers Compound. My forehead of security will be very excited to be on the job. There's also a credit card connected to my account if you're ever in trouble or in the mood for something to eat. Of course, I don't know what your schedule is, but call me whenever, and you're always welcome in Casa de Stark.

-TS

P.S. Stop by the tower if you can today. I've got a surprise I think you'll like.

Go to the tower? Peter glanced around the street nervously. He guessed it couldn't hurt, as long as he got all his Saturday chores done first.

After a moment of hesitation, the teenager folded up the letter, stuffing it in his pocket before turning back to the rest of the contents in the envelope. Like Mr. Stark had said, there was a Stark Industries badge, with his embarrassing yearbook photo and his name printed in bold letters, and an ebony credit card that practically gleamed even in the weak light of the gray day.

"The hell..." he muttered, staring at it. He didn't even want to begin thinking about how much stuff he could buy with this thing. The thought made him nauseous, and he moved to stuff it in his pocket as well, when he paused. His pocket was a horrible place to put this thing. He didn't plan on using it, but he'd have an actual stroke if he managed to lose it, or worse, if someone stole it. Mr. Stark already didn't seem overwhelmingly thrilled to have a snotty kid as his soulmate, no need to disappoint him further.

Peter went back inside, placing the card in his thin leather wallet that he kept in his bag, clipping his badge to the backpack, and then stuffing the letter underneath his mattress. Before he went to move back downstairs, his stomach rumbled and his eyes strayed back to the card. Mr. Stark had said he could use it whenever...and it wasn't like snacks were going to drain his account or anything. He bit his lip, forcing himself to turn back around and down the stairs. He wasn't a charity case, and he wasn't going to just abuse Mr. Stark's money like that.

The teenager shook his head as he hurried back to the common floor to begin cleaning up the kitchen as he tried not to think about how hungry he was going to be tonight. Only breakfast was allowed when grounded at Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, so tonight was going to be so much worse without a school provided lunch. And falling asleep last night had been almost impossible thanks to the gnawing pain in the pit of his stomach. Whatever. He'd figure it out somehow.

Cleaning the kitchen didn't take very long, both him and Jeremiah burning through the dishes and putting away food in less than ten minutes while the younger kids sat silently at the table, trepidatious noses stuck in books, though they'd been allowed a moment of calm reprieve when Mr. Fowler had stumbled upstairs for a few minutes before plopping back downstairs into his usual seat. Once the two were done, Jeremiah went to take out the trash while Peter stepped over to Mr. Fowler, who was just finishing scribbling on a thin piece of paper.

"I expect the receipt as usual, Parker. Not a penny missing." The man thrust the list in his hand along with a wad of tightly wrapped cash that Peter accepted more than a little nervously. Mr. Fowler was very particular about his money. "And don't forget to check the eggs to make sure they're not broken."

"Yes, sir," Peter nodded.

"And take the others with you. I need a few hours of peace."

"Yes, sir," he said again.

He motioned for the children to grab their bags from the hooks by the door while Peter dashed up the stairs and back down again with his own. He never left home without it, and the kids needed something to hold their stuff. Not that he would mind carrying a couple of books, but they had to carry all the groceries back, so the more free hands the better.

The ragtag group bounced onto the cracked sidewalk, the kids waving goodbyes to Jeremiah as they headed off towards the nearest grocery story. There was some excited babble as they all crowded around Peter, words tumbling from prepubescent lips as they all finally got their chance to inform Peter of their very eventful week. Mr. Fowler was never very excited to have the kids talking all at once. It disturbed his constant hangovers.

"One at a time, one at a time," Peter said with a reluctant smile. The chatter died down. "Youngest first."

Eric grabbed Peter's hand in response, the nine year-old babbling away about something new he'd learned in class and something funny his friend had said on Monday that he'd been waiting all week to tell Peter. Next was Juan, who had similar tellings, but the teenager responded just enthusiastically as he did Eric until they went all the way through the stories and ended up at the cheap grocery store.

Peter stopped them before going inside. "Rules?"

"Don't touch anything," all four chorused, continuing down the list. 1. Don't touch anything. 2. Stay by Peter. And 3. Hold your buddy's hand the whole time. Once they'd repeated them all, Peter nodded and led them inside.

The teenager tried his best to get everything on Mr. Fowler's list quickly, but refused to not double check for the cheaper brands that Mr. Fowler was always so insistent he buy. It irked Peter off, especially since grocery money came from the state and not the man, but there wasn't anything Peter could do without getting another strike, so he grabbed the blandest cheerios and the most unhealthy oatmeal and placed them in the basket in annoyance, doing his best to avoid any aisle with some kind of bright sugar. He still caught the other kids looking at cookies and cartons of ice cream longingly though.

Finally, after an agonizingly long time, they were all checked out and laden with groceries as they headed down the sidewalk back to the group home. There was more chatter from the kids as they pointed at fluttering pigeons and scurrying rats. There was even a parrot at one point that Peter was sure someone was looking for. He'd check around online later and see if he could give someone a tip about the scarlet bird that's shit narrowly missed Eric.

All was going well until the chime of an ice cream truck began down the small neighborhood street. Feet stopped and heads turned as the bright pink vehicle stopped in front of a group of clamoring kids. Peter could practically feel their want for something other than the same breakfast and dinner they got every day. Their most interesting meal was usually their school lunches, which was honestly more pitiful than anything the teenager could ever dream of.

Peter bit his lip as he stared at the ice cream truck and then sighed, setting down his groceries and opening the pocket of his backpack where he'd placed his wallet earlier. The wallet that now had a shiny black card connected directly to a billionaire that could give these kids a fun morning for once.

The wallet that was nowhere to be seen.

"Fuck," Peter muttered.

Eric gasped, pointing at Peter who was now practically tearing apart his backpack looking for the thing, panic rising in his chest. "Peter said a bad word!"

"Shit," Juan said in response. There were some giggles from the older kids but Eric gasped again. Peter ignored them, strangling in a reluctant breath as his hands finally stilled after coming away with nothing.

How the hell had he lost it? He'd had it for barely an hour! Think, Parker, think. It had been in his bag, he knew that. He'd put it in the second lowest pocket of his backpack, which he'd left upstairs. All the boys had been at the table, and Jeremiah had been cleaning the kitchen with him the entire time. Had someone stolen it at the store? It was possible but unlikely, what with his spider sense and the fact that four kids who'd grown up in New York's foster system paying constant attention to him. So how could it have--

Peter paused, bringing his hands up to cover the bottom half of his face as he clenched his teeth harder than he remembered having ever done before. Mr. Fowler had gone upstairs. And Peter's story had been complete bullshit. He must have found his wallet and taken it upon seeing the shiny black card just perfectly poised for the taking.

His legs stiff with terror, Peter stuffed everything he'd taken out of his bag back into it haphazardly, zipping it shut so harshly the tab ripped completely off. He grunted, throwing the piece of plastic to the ground and clutching his groceries back in his hands before stomping off. The kids stumbled after him once they'd realized he'd begun to move.

"Peter!! Wait up!" Tim called.

Peter forced himself to pause for them, but continued on the moment they were caught up to him. He tried to calm himself, but he couldn't stop the way his face contorted and he seethed in fury. He didn't give two flying shits about the crumpled bills in his wallet the man had taken, or the few personal items he'd kept in the wallet from his late uncle, but he was horribly angry that the man had taken something that was barely even Peter's.

There was no way in hell the teenager was going to explain to Mr. Stark that the card had been stolen from him not even a day after he'd gotten it. There was no way in hell was Peter going to explain that he, an enhanced that had just touted last night that he could take on the flying vulture guy, that he couldn't stand up to his foster father. Mr. Stark dealt with aliens. Peter could deal with Mr. Fowler.

His steps faltered.

He could. He could do it.

As he later found out, he couldn't.

---

Peter crept up the stairs of the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, having already set all the groceries he'd had on the kitchen counter for the other kids to put away. He tried to keep the shaking from his fear, unsure if it stemmed from fear or anger, but he was largely unsuccessful as he stalked past the kids' rooms and approached the one at the end of the hall.

As far as Peter knew, no one had gone into Mr. Fowler's room before. There usually wasn't a point. The man kept such meticulous track of his belongings that it was impossible to take something without him noticing sooner or later, and, not only that, but Peter was used to the click of a lock sliding shut whenever the man left his room unattended or went to sleep for the night. It left the teenager facing the unknown as he finally stepped in front of the door that was, in that moment, bigger than anything he'd ever seen.

He took in a shaky breath. Maybe this was a bad idea. The ringing of fear trembling up and down his entire self told him so.

But the anger wasn't completely overridden by the fear, and Peter was full of bad ideas anyway, so he raised a fist and knocked rapidly. There was no response, so Peter knocked again, just as forceful as last time but now more hesitant.

With a horrifying shiver down his spine, the door swung open. Peter swallowed but refused to take the step back that he desperately wanted to as Mr. Fowler towered over him. The smell of alcohol wasn't any kind of freshly strong like it had been a couple of nights ago, which was the only thing reassuring about the moment.

"What do you want?" Mr. Fowler demanded.

"My wallet." He willed his voice not to break.

Mr. Fowler's eyes narrowed as a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "What?"

"My wallet. You took it and I want it back."

"It's my house, so it's my wallet."

"No it's not! It was my uncle's!" he protested.

"Oh, and was this your uncle's too?" The shiny black card was pulled out his pocket as Mr. Fowler flashed him a toothy grin. Peter's hands twitched with the need to reach out for it, but he kept his fists balled at his side. "Lying to your foster father now, huh? That was a nice little letter under your bed, too. New sugar daddy or something?"

Peter blanched, but then his face turned ghostly white. His voice was a horrified whisper. "You took my letter?"

"Under your bed? Really? You didn't even try, son!" Mr. Fowler taunted, pulling out a piece of crumpled paper and forcing it into Peter's hands. He tore it open, but the paper was so wrinkled he could barely read it anymore. "So, Tony Stark? I don't know if you sucked his dick or something, but I'm sure this card has plenty for me to use if it's connected to his account."

"What? No! That doesn't belong--"

He was cut off by a hand tugging a fistful of his hair. Peter winced but refused to let out a yelped cry even as he was dragged into Mr. Fowler's room. It wasn't much, he realized as he peered through squinted eyes at the bedroom. It was somehow grimy and tidy at the same time, with dust and dirt covering just about every corner, but his belongings were neatly lined and organized on the desk and bedside table. The only other thing that screamed about Mr. Fowler's uncleanliness was the bottles littering the floor that Peter had to fight not to trip over, made only harder as the fist let go of his hair and slapped him into the nearest wall.

"Now listen here, you little shit," Mr. Fowler started, cornering the scrambling teenager as his voice boomed so loud that surely all the kids downstairs could hear him. "I clothe you and house you and feed you, and I will not tolerate your levels of disrespect when you do nothing but run around like the little ungrateful shit you are! Anything you earn while under my roof belongs to me!"

"No it doesn't!" Peter found the courage to shout back. Mr. Fowler blinked in scowled surprise. "And you barely do any of that shit! I had these clothes before I got here, and you barely feed me! You barely feed any of the kids down there!! What the hell is wrong--"

His face stung with the slap that met it.

He grit his teeth, blinking away angry tears. It didn't hurt, it didn't hurt. He was Spider-Man. Being dropped into a lake had hurt, this was nothing. He couldn't really be hurt while he had these powers. He couldn't.

"SHUT UP!!!"

Peter cowered.

"You know nothing about what you're talking about, son," Mr. Fowler breathed, stalking forward until his face was only inches from Peter's and there was nowhere left to run. He scrunched his nose and screwed up his eyes, holding his breath against the man's stale breath as he turned his face away to stare past the man's shoulder. "Whatever you think, this is my house, and I took you in after your last foster parent got sick of your teenage horseshit. Sneaking out wasn't tolerated there, just as much as disrespect isn't tolerated here. So I think that's another strike, don't you? Or a good enough recommendation could get you to a juvenile detention center instead."

"No, please--"

The hand was in his hair again, tearing him forward with a pained wince and forcing him through the door. When Peter smacked up against the wall, he realized it wasn't the door to the hallway.

Scrambling, he swung around just in time to see the door slam shut and then click with the eerie noise of a lock, leaving Peter in the dark closet that was full of nothing but the stench of dirty clothes piled around his feet and the clinking of dusty bottles. He swallowed, wishing desperately he didn't make such stupid decisions, that he'd just kept his head down and forgotten about it and--

"Stay nice and quiet, and you'll be let out soon," Mr. Fowler called before the sound of the door clicked shut and the groaning of wood told him that the man was walking away.

And Peter was horribly alone.

---

Tony glanced between the metal case sat on the table and the window displaying the New York night sky one last time before sighing and stepping off of the stool, Peter's shadow following him. He hadn't been Spider-Man all day, so Tony had no idea what could be holding him up. The kid hadn't texted at all either, though he was sure he'd at least set up the phone already.

Nervously, the billionaire tapped his fingers on the table, one of the last pieces of furniture that had yet to be packed on his floor. He'd delivered the letter himself, clearly addressed it to the kid and everything, but maybe he hadn't gotten it? Maybe it had been a little sketchy for a kid to get a letter with just initials on it and no return address. But he couldn't have gotten in trouble for anything like that, right? And Peter's foster father didn't have anything bad surrounding his name...

With a tired sigh, he asked his AI, "Anything?"

"Mr. Parker has still not entered the building."

"A few blocks out?"

"He does not appear on any security cameras." A moment. "It is past ten, sir. I do not think he is going to come."

"Keep an eye out for him, just in case." He continued to tap the table with a thoughtful hum. Just to double check. "Has the phone been activated?"

"Yes, sir. It started up this morning."

Okay, good, so he had gotten the letter.

"And the card?" he asked. His AI paused, and something hard settled in his stomach. "The card, Friday?"

"It has been in use multiple times since this morning." Tony blinked. That was something of a surprise, but he couldn't say he was disappointed. The kid looked like he could use a good meal or two. He took his jacket off, moving towards his bedroom.

"Great. Glad it's being put to use."

"Three hundred dollars have been spent on alcoholic beverages."

Tony froze where he stood, suspended in a feeling he couldn't even describe. Disappointment? Terror? Hurt? He stared down at the curly-haired shadow, eyes narrowing as he gaped at it. He hadn't exactly pegged the kid as someone who would buy boatloads of drinks, and he didn't even know if a fake ID would work for the kid. He looked all of twelve.

"Cut off the card until the next time I talk to him."

"Yes, sir."

"And track his phone. Where the hell is he right now?"

"His phone's location relays that he is in his foster home."

And that was that he supposed. The kid couldn't buy anymore alcohol and there wasn't anything Tony could do without talking to him directly.

Tony stepped into his bedroom, slipped into some old pajamas, and flopped onto bed with a twist in his gut. Something just felt wrong, and it was more than the kid buying alcohol that likely would barely affect him anyway.

His mind racing, Tony turned restlessly under the covers as the lights shut off around him. Peter's shadow disappeared, the room going with it, and when Tony blinked again, he found himself in complete darkness only broken by the shifting of clothes, the clink of bottles, and the sniffles of someone coming off of a breakdown.

He blinked back awake, sitting up and reaching for his phone. He scrolled through it until he found Peter's number and hit call. It rang. And rang. And rang.

"Hi, you've reached the voicemail of Peter Parker! I'm busy right now, I guess, so call me later, and yeah! Have a good day! Oh! And leave your message after the beep! BEEEP!!"

Tony didn't know whether to laugh or not.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

#friendly neighborhood exchange #tony stark #peter parker #Iron Man #spiderman #irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #ironman fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #soulmate au #platonic soulmates #not st*rker

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

One Shot- To The Stars And Back

Intro: Steve and Katie receive a message which Tony left before his death.

Warnings: “Language!”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: This was originally a full chapter, however I as I ended up publishing Stark Spangled Man I stripped out the flashback, and it left me with this little mini. It always sat in my head that Tony would leave personalised messages for Katie and Steve, along with the rest of his family, not just the generic one we saw at his funeral so here we are.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“Happy?” Katie frowned momentarily as the man strode into her kitchen, followed by Steve. “Wasn’t expecting to see you today, not that you’re not welcome, of course you are.” She hastily added.

“It’s okay, Kiddo, I know what you meant.” He chuckled softly “The kids not here?” “Jamie’s gone to the park with Bucky and Sam, and Emmy’s taken Lucky for a walk.” She answered. “Why, do we need them?”

“No, I was just gonna say hi but I’ll see them tomorrow I suppose.” He smiled sadly at the thought of the funeral. “But, anyway, I came to deliver this. It turns out even, well, even when he’s gone your brother has me running errands.”

Katie smiled softly as he held up the box in front of her.

“He left three. One for you and Steve, one for Pepper and Morgan, and one for his Funeral….so…”

“His Funeral?” Steve frowned, as Katie opened a drawer and retrieved a knife before she walked over to the table. She had a feeling she knew what was in there, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she carefully slit the tape on the cardboard box and took a breath as she realised she was right.

Inside was an Iron Man helmet, one of his many spares from his suits over the years.

“He’s erm, ” she took a breath as she instantly recognised which suit this had come from. “He’ll have left a message or something, like he did all those years ago from Tennessee.”

Happy nodded. “He did. The boxes arrived at the house today. Along with instructions that if he had, you know, then they were to be distributed accordingly.”

“Thanks.” Katie set the helmet on the table and glancing into the box. There was another, smaller package inside, to which an envelope was attached. She smiled as she read her brother’s handwriting on the front. It simply said ‘Spangles’.

“We were just about to get lunch.” Steve tore his eyes away from Katie as he looked to Happy. “Do you want to join us?”

“Thanks but I should be getting back.” Happy declined the offer politely. “Stuff to do before tomorrow.”

Katie gave him a small smile, placing the smaller box on the table “Can’t say I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me neither.” Happy swallowed, dropping a hand to her shoulder “But we’ll get through it. We always do, huh?”

“I’ll see you out.” Steve said, as Happy gave Katie a hug before he nodded and the two men left the room.

Katie looked at the helmet which now sat on the table, and she took a deep breath before she picked it up and looked straight into the eye sockets. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, resting her forehead against the cool metal she held in her hands. She had no idea which suit this was from, but then again Tony had made so many of the damned things, it could be Mk500 for all she knew. The tears began to fall down her face as she screwed her eyes shut, head pressed against the helmet, before gently hands pried it from hers.

“Hey,” Steve spoke softly, dropping into the seat next to her, placing the helmet on the table. “Come here.”

She turned into him, pressing her face to his chest as she shook with silent sobs. His hand gently rubbed her back as he soothed her, waiting for her to calm down.

“Sorry,” She pulled back. “Stop apologising.” Steve shook his head, wiping her tears with his thumbs. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Katie took a deep breath and glanced at the helmet, before she remembered something. “Oh, here.” She reached out for the smaller box, and nudged it towards him. “This was in there for you.” Steve frowned and took the box, looking at the envelope. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes “That fucking nickname.”

“Open it.” Katie urged. “I wanna see what it is.”

Smiling at her ever impatient nature, Steve tore the envelope open. His eyes scanned the writing and his brow furrowed slightly, before his lips turned up in a soft smile and he handed the note to her.

Hey Old Man. My dad once told me that no amount of money can buy a second of time, yet he had a hell of a lot of expensive watches, so go figure. This particular one, however, I couldn’t auction for charity. I always intended to pass it to you, one way or another. And if you’re reading this note you’re getting it after my demise…so I best explain.

I did a bit of digging and it turns out that most of the guys involved in ‘Operation Rebirth’ and the Howling Comandos got one of these post the War. It’s a Wartime Rolex Oyster, probably worth a fair dime or two but the sentiment makes it priceless as you’ll see when you look at it. (Here’s a clue- check the back!) It only feels right that you have it. I had intended to pass it to you for your 40th,or your 107th, whatever you wanna call it, but again, as you’re reading this I won’t be there for that.

I know Jamie’s surname is Rogers but there is half Stark in him so he’s not a complete lost cause, and maybe when he’s older you can pass this down to him. Or if you have any more kids that are boys, I dunno, maybe you can give them a strap each or something. Whatever.

I’m also assuming you’ll be reading this before watching the message I left as we both know Kiddo is an impatient brat so I’ll leave it there, I don’ t wanna spoil my heartfelt speech too much.

Whilst Katie was reading, Steve opened the box and he gently took the watch in his hand. It was silver, with a black leather strap and a simple, classic face. He studied at it before he turned it over and he instantly felt a lump in his throat. Engraved on the back was the Howling Commando emblem- they had adopted the wings from his helmet which had adorned their uniforms in whichever place they chose- with the words ‘To The Captain’ arched over the top in copper slate writing.

He gently handed it to Katie and she glanced down at it, turning it over to read the inscription, her fingers running over the writing.

“Wow.” She whispered, wiping her eyes “I’ve never seen this before.”

“It’s erm, ” Steve cleared his throat, his voice thick, “it’s pretty…”

“Awesome.” Katie smiled up at him.

“Yeah.” Steve nodded as she handed it back to him, and he placed it back in the leather box, setting it to one side. Seeing that had brought a wave of emotions crashing back over him. Nostalgia, slight sadness at the loss of not just Tony but his other friends, and pride.

Pride that even after he was gone they’d remembered him in such a touching and genuine way.

Shaking himself out of it, he looked at Katie and then nodded to the helmet. “Do you wanna do it now or…” She nodded and picked it up in a shaking hand, before she put it on.

“Retinal Scan authenticated” FRIDAY’s voice spoke “Greetings Mrs Rogers…accessing Stark Secure Server, hologram projection activated.”

Katie removed the helmet and placed it on the table, pointing it away from them as the footage beamed out from the eye sockets. She took a deep breath as the hologramatic form of her brother appeared and he smiled at them.

“Hey Kiddo.” He spoke, “Cap…”

Katie wanted to speak back, so badly, but she knew it was pointless, he wasn’t actually there. Steve gently reached for her hand and she linked her fingers into his.

“So, I thought I better record a message, you know just in case it all goes sideways tomorrow.” Tony sniffed, sitting down on a chair. “I’ve left one for Pepper and Morgan too and the gang, but I wanted to leave you your own. I hope that you’re watching this back and our plan worked, that everyone came back and we did it,” he took a deep breath, “but there’s a couple of things I wanna get out of the way before we get into the soppy shit. So, first off, I’m leaving half my shares of Stark Industries to you, the other half goes to Pepper who will more than likely keep it for Moo once she’s old enough. If you both come to the decision to sell then, that’s cool. It’s probably run its course anyway. If not then good luck taking it in whatever direction you choose, not that you need luck, you’ve proven yourself more than capable of running it pretty much singlehandedly over the last five years.”

Katie took a deep breath and wiped at her eyes with her spare hand, the one that was entwined with Steve’s tightened around his fingers.

“Second, most of the cash assets I have pass to Pepper, but I’ve left instructions that there’s some for you as well. I know you don’t need it but I want you to use it for the kids, however many you end up with. Tell them Uncle Nee wanted to leave them something. And thirdly, the house in Malibu. I knew we never got round to rebuilding it but I still own the land and I want you to have it, Kiddo. That was our home for years and I watched you grow up there into the strong, beautiful woman you became so it only feels right. Plus it’s where we buried that fucking turkey too so it’s probably haunted by the evil bastard anyway. There’s a fund set up as well which should let you rebuild it however you want.

I know you probably won’t want to move from Brooklyn, I mean Cap’s lived there pretty much all his life, well, maybe, if you don’t count the sixty-five years doing time as a Capsicle or the time in DC and then wherever the hell you were when, well, you know,” Tony waved his hand, “whatever, the point is you can rebuild it how you want and use it how you want, nice little holiday home maybe.” Katie took a shuddering breath as now her tears were falling thick and fast. She’d forgotten all about that house, their home that had been destroyed. The fact that Tony had never sold the land so she could have it back in some form was astounding and overwhelming at the same time.

“So now that’s dealt with, onto the good stuff. First off, Spangles.” Tony spoke and Steve shifted slightly “I know we’ve had our differences, but I just wanted you to know when it comes to Katie I trust you implicitly, I think I always have done in a way. I never really had any doubts in my mind since that day I spoke to you in DC. To be honest you’re such a straight guy I trust you with pretty much anything, well, maybe not quite, I’m still not sure about our driving but that’s a different story.” Tony winked and Steve spluttered a chuckle. The fact that Captain America was a bit of a speed demon behind the wheel and been a long running joke amongst the Avengers since the beginning. “You’re a good man with a good heart, everyone knows this, I mean that’s the reason you were chosen for the serum anyway isn’t it? Because it makes the good better. I know I’m leaving my girl in good hands, but just so you know,” he raised his fingers to his eyes in the familiar ‘I’m watching you’ sign and Steve smiled, “and that won’t stop now, because if you ever do let her down I’ll make it my mission to haunt you for the rest of your life.” Tony smiled “But I know you won’t. And because I know you probably still don’t believe me I wanted to tell you once and for all that I don’t blame you for any of the shit that went down. I Love you buddy, Take it easy.” Steve took a deep breath and wiped his tears with his spare hand as Katie gently squeezed his other again as hologram Tony shifted in his seat and his attention turned to Katie.

“Kiddo,” he sighed, “I don’t even know where to start. I know I’ve said it and said it again, but my biggest achievement in life will always be how well and good and honest and…amazing you turned out, even with me as a role model. If Moo turns out to be anything like you when she’s older then…” he trailed off and shrugged, “well, I only wish I was gonna be there to see it, oh, and that reminds me, Spangles I’m counting on you to be there to vet all potential boyfriends for suitability.” Both Katie and Steve let out a watery chuckle at that.

“But yeah, where was I…oh, right…I watched how you took Emmy under your wing, then when you had Jamie and how they’re both growing into spectacular people, it’s awesome and I really couldn’t be any prouder of the woman you became. Never lose that will to do the right thing, never lose that Stark stubbornness, never lose that streak of ferocity that leaves everyone quaking in their boots. After everything you’ve been through, I’m just sorry that I’m bringing more shitty times to your door by meeting an untimely death, but I know you’ll get through the other side, you always do. Just remember, this was my choice to fight, my choice. So I don’t want anyone thinking they’re to blame. You know, I think, deep down, I’ve always known it would end this way ever since New York. And rather this than some crazy old bastard rattling round in a home not knowing what day it is.”

Katie took another deep breath as Tony wiped his hand down his face.

“Anyway, please make sure they don’t play any soppy shit at my funeral. AC/DC, Queen or Led Zep will suffice, maybe some Train, I dunno.” He winked and Katie smiled through her tears “And if Ross is there, give him this from me.” He raised his middle finger of his right hand before he chuckled. “But I don’t know why I’m recording all of this anyway as I’m sure it’s gonna work out. I’ll probably be sat here watching it back and grimacing at how ridiculously stupid I sound and look, but just in case…I want you to remember that I love you to the stars and back my girl, I always will, and I’m beyond proud of you.”

And with that the message cut off, leaving the kitchen quiet bar Katie’s shaking, soft sobs. Steve gently turned towards her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a hug. She pressed her face into his chest, her hands sliding around his back where she gripped at his shirt her brother’s final goodbye to her echoing in her head.

**** Chapter 60

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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peblezq · 3 years

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1(suite madame blue), 13 and 14 for the ask a writer thing?

Thanks! I have a lot to say so bear with me. I love talking about writing so much 😅

1. What gave you inspiration for “Suite Madame Blue”?

- I ah inspired myself? I mean, I noticed some people are writing the concept of Laurens surviving the amrev war, but when I read those I didn't instantly wanna write my own. I only ended up planning it after I started writing Slipping Into The Future and wanted to write a spinoff based on the Laurens character that shows up in that book.

Although, now I kinda am considering removing the spinoff element and actually publishing it as like a book people can purchase and own under the recommendation of a ton of people in my life. I'll keep updating it on AO3, but I might end up removing it at some point after I finish it (so don't freak out if I do. It just means I'm actually following through with publishing it!)

But anyway, that was how it started - me asking myself "what would happen to John Laurens if he never died in the war?"

And when developing this book, I wanted to make mine original even though the concept of a "Laurens Lives AU" isn't entirely original. 😅 I mean, that was how I went about my Hamilton time traveling fic as well; tried to make mine feel unique amongst the mass of "Historical Hamilton watches the musical" type stories. One thing I noticed as a consistency across these "Laurens Lives AUs" is that none of the stories attempted to really involve Frances as a vital role and also never tried to change anything else besides him "surving the war somehow" (ie. Hamilton's marriage to Eliza is still a thing in all the others I've seen.) I just went for a full AU because why not? I'm already altering history, so I can alter whatever else I want. Lol.

TL DR; my inspiration was just my excitement whilst researching for Slipping Into The Future and wanting to tackle another "what if" scenario story.

13. If someone was just finding your blog/writing, which 3 fics would you recommend they read from your masterlist in order to find out if they like your style or not? Why for each?

- Oh dear, this is a toughie to answer since I have a very biased opinion on my writing - that being I am super critical and would advise people to not read anything I wrote before 2020 😅 However, I will try to answer to the best of my ability and put in a variety of fics I have written that I am proud of or was proud of at the time that still accuratley showcases my style (excluding my most popular and recent works "Suite Madame Blue" and "Slipping Into The Future" which I feel best represents my style since they're so recent, but I digress):

(1) Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now. I wrote and posted this in May 2021, so only a few months before answering this ask. It was based on a discord conversation about dark fics and I wanted to write a Lams dark fic where the Lams relationship wasn't the dark part, but rather the things that they do are dark. Hence the "murder husbands" concept. It kinda has a "crack fic kinda taken seriously" vibe.

(2) PAPA. I wrote this one in 2018. It is a crackfic and I think it really showcases how I handle silly concepts and flip them on their head and subvert people's expectations going in.

(3) True Love's Kiss. Originally ppsted in I think 2019? I updated it in 2020 cause I literally forgot to post the second and final part before, ahaha. It was based on a Tumblr prompt that was "what if a certain character from IT didn't die". I love writing "what if" stories and this one really suits that style.

14. What is a title you think you did really well on? What makes you think it was a good fit for the fic?

- A title I am super proud of is "A Dwindling Flame" because I didn't name it after a song lyric; I actually put effort into the name. It had a placeholder name that was just the song title "Candle In The Wind" (by Elton John) but I renamed it after I finished the oneshot and named it after one of my favourite lines that is in that fic. It just made sense and really sets the mood for the type of story you're getting into, I think.

#writing stuff #pebs rambles #writing asks #ask

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cobraonthecob · 3 years

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how are you gonna say that the people who literally created the characters “don’t have a good handle on the characters”? have you considered that your own interpretation of the characters is off? this is why no one likes zutara shippers, your fanon characterization isn’t even close to how they are in canon.

well this is lovely to wake up to /s

i can guarantee you that Katara looking at Aang romantically destroys the entire show. Remove the last five minutes of the ATLA finale and nothing changes the show. LoK proved that Bryke had no idea what they were doing with Katara’s character, I don’t believe that she’d just ‘happily retire to being the Avatar’s girlfriend/trophy wife and just be a silent babymaker and not be herself’.

And I can tell you that people who have made characters/are in charge of writing them sometimes very much don’t know what to do with them (*Will Smith pose to TCW [Barriss comes to mind] and the Star Wars sequel trilogy [the entire thing])

I’m sorry, but if me imagining that Katara would be more than happy to be involved in the world via politics is ‘going against her character’, I’m thinking that a rewatch is in order for you. I certainly didn’t dream up her going ‘No, I will never, ever turn my back on people who need me!’, I didn’t dream up of her smiling at Zuko’s invitation to help him take the throne, I didn’t dream of her standing up to the North’s patriarchy, flipping it off with both fingers, before taking a sledgehammer to it. Katara is an activist, first and foremost, and when the battle is no longer fought with the four elements, she’ll fight on the political field.

My interpretation is just one interpretation, and like you said, a bit fanon because I don’t care about the vomics or LoK. If you hate the way I write Katara or Zuko, you can block me, or not read my fics. It’s easy as that.

Also, I keep my own blog to Zutara and salt, the only way you would’ve wormed your way through to find me is if through that one time I snapped at Zuk.ka shippers or if you really like combing through the salt and anti tags, which i don’t recommend going through for your own mental health.

#nightfalcon answers #nightfalcon responds #anti bryke #star wars salt #star wars: the clone wars salt #star wars sequel trilogy salt #i'll never forgive lucasfilm for what they did to barriss finn (esp finn) rose and poe #ironically all four of them are characters of color either via coding or the actors #lolol we're closer to canon than you think unless you think canon encompasses the vomics and lok #then you're right! none of us want to write a subservient housewife with no political power because that's not our girl

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thatkindofgurl · 3 years

Text

Star Wars shows

So I've been doing a lot of thinking about the new shows for Star Wars, mainly the Mandalorian spin-offs, and what plots we could potentially see, so this is just me speculating for the fun of it, and I wanted to see what you guys think.

Also, I don't know how true this is, but I've seen rumors about a crossover event for the shows, and I'm gonna talk about that too

The book of Boba Fett.

I'm starting with this one because I truly don't know what could happen here. I mean, it's probably Boba seeking comeuppance for whatever happened to him after he was left for dead in Tatooine, or maybe he just wants to rule the criminal underworld, and Jabba's palace was the first step for that. Anyhow, I have this weird feeling that this might be an special or movie, rather than a fully fleshed out series, and since it most likely will air before The Mandalorian s3 premier, it might just tell us more about how things are going on with the galaxy

The Mandalorian s3.

So I believe that this next season is going to be focused on two different plotlines, that at one point, probably the middle or end of season, are going to connect somehow.

Mandalore and the Darksaber

As we know, Din Djarin accidentally ended up with the Darksaber, and therefore the right to claim the throne of Mandalore, which we know he doesn't want. But I don't think they just put this seed for a very interesting plot in the finale, just for Din to give it up in the first episode of the 3rd season, so that means we are going to have Bo-Katan as an antagonist, at least at the beginning of the season.

Of course I have nothing to back it up, but maybe the first chapters are going to be Din being chased by Bo-Katan and simultaneously being like "for god's sake, just take it and leave me alone", until something most likely related to Grogu more on that later will make him change his mind and actively go after Mandalore's throne, which would turn Bo fully into the antagonist for the season.

Either that, or Din and Bo feign a battle in front of other mandalorians so Bo would be left as the only contender to the throne, and the rest of the season is political games and scoring wins against the remains of the Empire, which would also be amazing to see.

Jedi Shenanigans

I don't think this is the last we will see of Grogu. Either early on the season something will make Luke leave Grogu back with Din again, or we are actually going to see some of the Jedi training.

(If we are going to see Luke again, it would be easier to just call Sebastian Stan, instead of the cgi thing. He more or less already has Mark Hamill's blessing anyway)

Again, this is just speculating, but what I would like to see in this plot of mine, is to see Luke or whatever Jedi community he has formed somehow getting involved in some conflict that would put Grogu in potential danger, and so, Din would realize that the only way to influence the conflict to end and help keep Grogu safe would be to take Mandalore's throne, or maybe Bo-Katan is pouring gasoline to the fire of this conflict, and so, Din must remove her from the throne.

My point is, the only way to keep Grogu safe will be by taking Mandalore's throne, and we know there's nothing Din wouldn't do for his son.

Ahsoka

In "The Jedi" episode of the Mandalorian, we learned that Ahsoka is looking for Admiral Thrawn, and therefore remainers of the empire, which is most likely what this show is going to be about. It is a great opportunity to bring more characters from the animated shows to live action, now that we know it can work, like Ezra, or maybe even Cal Kestis from the video game if they want to go there. The plot also has potential for Luke to show up here too.

Regardless of what other characters might appear here. I believe this show is going to follow up, one way or another, the clone with high M-count plot that was introduced in season 2, that we know ties in with the sequel trilogy. It would make sense, since the return of Palpatine would be less that desirable for Ahsoka, and I imagine Thrawn would be involved with this specific order.

Of course, assigning this plot to Ahsoka is her getting the short end of the stick, because we know the Empire/First Order will win this one and bring Palpatine back eventually. But then again, Ahsoka has to die before Episode IX, since we hear her voice alongside other force ghosts.

Rangers of the New Republic

This one is probably going to feature Cara Dune a lot, if she's not one of the protagonists to begin with.

It is here that I believe we are going to see what other things Moff Gideon has up on his sleeve. I can see Cara turning this guy in with the Republic, and them being like "cool!!! Do you want to maybe join this group of rangers to keep messing around with the Empire?" And Cara would be like "I guess?".

This one might cover the plans the Empire have in general, explain the orders the Emperor left in case of his death, ala whatever that was happening in the Aftermath books, since that was never brought up in the sequels, and tie in with Ahsoka.

Crossover event

Again, I just saw the rumor and I thought it was dope, I don't know if this is true, and even if it is, it would most likely happen after a couple of seasons for each of the new shows.

Of course, I'm basing this on just the potential general plots I just described to you, but if there was something that could tie in this plots and characters, it would be something like the Battle of Jakku.

I'm not saying it would be The battle of Jakku specifically, because it supposedly happened a couple of years before The Mandalorian's first season but I mean something of the style. Or it can be Jakku, just do a little retcon, it's not like it was mentioned at all on the sequels, just on the visual guides.

But, like, the only thing that the protagonists of these shows (Din, Ahsoka, Cara/Rangers) have in common is their desire to put an end to the Empire, even if it's for different reasons.

Kuiil said in the first season that things would not change until the old ways die, but sadly we know that lowkey never happens, since the First Order eventually rises, which puts these characters in a tight position and probably in the losing team.

However, I believe at this point all of them have proved to be great fighters, and they would put one hell of a last stand against the Empire. And to be honest, this story line that started in The Mandalorian is building up, and it only will continue to do so with two, maybe three other shows, regardless of what plots they decide to follow. It will get to a point where the only outcome possible is a big, all-out battle, which brings me to the last point I've been thinking about.

If a battle is to come, and I believe it will, it's going to be big. Like, define the future of the galaxy big. Of course, there is not much room for creativity with the sequels ahead, but this battle, if the good guys win, can push the Empire/First Order to hide even more, and be the reason why they don't come out publicly until the climax of The Force Awakens.

Listen, season 2 finale showed that they are not afraid to bring big players to these shows, and with a battle like that so important, it would make sense that they would bring Luke again, and if Luke keeps popping up, I don't see why Leia and Han can't.

I mean, they already have the guy from the Solo movie, just age him up a little and he's good to go. For Leia, they could go on talent hunting and find someone who is reminiscent of Leia, the way Sebastian and Alden do respectively to these characters. Also, a Lando show is on the making as well, and while we don't know who will portray the character, if it's Donald Glover, you can add him to the mix as well.

*-*-*

Okay, before you say it, I know this is not like things are going to go, it's just the things and plots I would love to see. I know Dave Filoni and Jon Favreau already have the way this is going to go, and I completely trust them with it. It's just so easy to get lost in these stories, both seasons of The Mandalorian gave me such a good thing to look forward at times I really needed to and to see this storyline expanded to more shows really excited me. I can't wait to see what they have in store for us c:

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katedrakeohd · 4 years

Text

What Happens in Paris...(7)

Masterlist

Back at the train, the men and women separate to get ready for the tea party. Down in Max and Drake’s shared room, Drake is sitting on his bed watching Max do his primp and polish in front of the mirror. Impeccably dressed in his black Gucci dress shirt and trousers, Maxwell is running a comb through his neatly trimmed hair and whistling. If he wasn’t his friend, Drake could almost hate him for it. His clothing style rarely changed. His way of taking his day look into a night look usually involved the undoing of a button on his shirt, and the addition of a hair product to keep himself looking sharp when he broke out the moves on the dance floor. Drake knew though, even by day when Maxwell appeared to be calm and collected there was always a three ring circus, complete with peacocks, going on inside his head.

Drake looked down at Maxwell’s shiny black shoes, and then glanced at his own scuffed and worn looking brown ones. As much as Drake didn’t want to dress all fancy for a Royal tea party today, he knew that Kate was expected to be there. Plus he wanted to witness the look of envy on Maddy’s face when Kate walked in all dressed up and stole away attention from the future Queen. Although he usually wouldn’t give a damn how he looked when he skulked his way into events after everyone else important arrived. This time he knew Kate would be under Liam’s lustful eye, and it made his stomach ache at the thought. If he was going to escort Kate into this stupid party, even as her seemingly platonic friend, he had to make an effort to fit in for his own peace of mind. Drake cleared his throat to get Maxwell’s attention. I can’t believe I’m doing this again. Heaven help me.

“Uh, Max? About this party today… I can’t exactly show up looking like some bum off the street. Could you help me pick out something fit to wear?”

Maxwell gasped, dropping the lint roller he was using to remove fluff and hair from his trouser leg. “Really?! You’ll let me dress you up for two events in a row?”

Drake sighs, getting up from the bed and running his hands through his hair. “Well don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“It is a big deal. My grumpy best friend wants to impress a girl!”

Drake grimaced, “Tone it down will ya? Besides, you are not my best friend.”

Maxwell is unfazed by the brush off and just raises his eyebrows, nodding, “Oh right! We’re even better than that now. We’re family!”

Drake opens his mouth to protest and then closes it again. Technically Max was right, as painful as it was for him to admit. He raises his hands and gives Max an impatient head shake, “Alright! Alright! Whatever! Are you gonna help me or not?”

“Of course I will. Show me what you got.”

Drake holds his hands out to the sides to display his current denim disaster.

“No, no silly.” Maxwell drags over Drake’s suitcase and flops it onto the bed. Drake places a protective hand on top, shakes his head.

“No point in looking in there," Drake grumbles.

“Okay then, to the Royal Closet we go.”

Kate sits in front of Hana’s portable makeup mirror, while Hana runs a round brush through her hair, coaxing it into soft waves. “I love your hair Kate, it’s so soft and manageable. What shampoo do you use?”

With a shrug, Kate admires her freshly painted fingernails. “Some kind of fruity scented stuff that I bought at the drugstore. Drake forgot to grab the matching conditioner when we showered, so I hope my hair doesn't get all full of static and frizz.”

Hana meets Kate's gaze in the mirror and they both giggle. “Oh my goodness, Kate. No wonder you two were late for breakfast.”

Trying to hide her blush in the lighted mirror was impossible, “Yeah, well I did interrupt him while he was shaving this morning. And damn he looked sexy in that bathrobe.”

Hana sighed with envy as she parted Kate’s hair and swept it behind her shoulder. Kate hands her the golden, flower embellished comb from the counter. “What’s it like Kate?”

“What?”

“Having a King and his best friend both in love with you?”

"It's not as fun as you might think. They've both staked their claim on me in some way and I hate being the rope in their tug of war. The worst part is that Liam has already lost me and he doesn't know it yet."

“Poor guy, he’s going to be crushed. What does Drake have that Liam doesn't?”

“He doesn't have the weight of the kingdom sitting on his head and shoulders, nor does he have a bunch of noble ladies fighting over him. Plus he’s nobody important to the press or tabloids. I’m not as worried about being seen with him, because I know he’ll protect me.”

“He’s not worried about being pulled into the Tariq scandal with you?” Hana asks, a look of concern on her face.

Kate shrugs, “I know he doesn't regret coming to my rescue, except for maybe the punches Tariq landed on his ribs. He was very much a gentleman about the whole thing, which is a lot more than I can say for Tariq.”

“But speaking of having two guys interested at the same time, what about Neville and Rashad?”

Hana wrinkles up her nose with a frown of disgust, “They're so boring. And neither were very nice to Penelope when we first met them.”

Kate applies a pale pink lip gloss to the center of her bottom lip to enhance her lipstick, pressing her lips together and then checking the results in the mirror, “Well frankly, since finding out she participated in the smear campaign against me, Penelope isn't one of my favorite people either. But I get what you’re saying, especially with Neville. He creeps me out in the same way Tariq does. Rashad seems to be marginally better than his friend as far as character goes, having made his own way as a businessman. He’s not depending on his Father’s money like Neville.”

Hana tilts her head, considering Kate’s thoughts. “I suppose you make a good point. But still, neither are as important, charismatic, charming or handsome as the King.”

Kate smirks, “Liam's definitely a charmer. I wonder sometimes what he sees in an ordinary barmaid like me. Or what Drake does either.” Kate meets Hana's gaze in the mirror. "Am I really worth all this fuss? What's so special about me that loving one man must mean breaking the other's heart?"

"You mean besides your charisma, charm, intelligence and beauty? You're a genuinely nice person Kate, and everyone is drawn to you. The other women in the room envy you when the men all look your way."

Kate turns around to look up at Hana, seeing the admiration in her eyes. "You're all of these things and more, Hana."

Hana looks down at her shoes, shyly, "I wish. My parents have invested so much into my training, refinement and education. But they've rarely praised me for any of my achievements. Sometimes I feel like they'd throw me at any available bachelor if it would raise my status on the social ladder, especially if it got our names in the media back home."

Standing up from her seat, Kate places her hands on Hana's shoulders. "Hey now, don't beat up on yourself. You're more than just some guy's arm candy or potential wife. You need to stand up and grab the future you want for yourself. To Hell with your parents’ expectations. I bet you could excel at anything you put your mind to. You don't need a man to raise your status. Be the strong independent woman I know you can be.”

Hana smiles, “Thanks Kate. I wish I’d met you years ago. You're the type of friend I've been missing all my life.”

Kate smiles back, “You’ve been here for me too, so it's only right that I return the favor.”

Stepping back from Hana, Kate strikes a pose with one hand on her hip, raising the other in a provocative sweep of her hair to highlight her face and bare shoulders. “So what do you think of my finished look?”

Hana smiles broadly, with a clap of approval at her stylish handiwork. “You're going to be hotter than the tea, that’s for sure.”

Kate winks, “Damn straight. We are.”

Drake stands outside of Kate's train compartment, fidgeting. Dressed in a crisp white dress shirt and dark grey trousers, with his hair combed and set with some of Maxwell's styling compound; he felt like a teenager on Prom night. Drying his sweaty hand on his thigh, he's reminded of how thin the fabric feels compared to his usual denim. The way the slim fit of the pant legs hugged his thighs made him feel so exposed, almost naked, and he was starting to regret not opting for his usual jeans. But Maxwell had assured him that he looked good, and that he’d fit in just fine at the party.

He hoped he looked good enough to escort Kate. The sudden absurdity of wanting to dress up for a tea party makes him chuckle and he shakes his head. Damn it Kate, what have you done to me?

Sucking in a deep breath he knocks on Kate’s door and waits.

…

Crouching down to secure the gold strap of her shoe around her ankle, Kate hears the buzzing sound of a text message coming from inside her purse. She glances up, “I bet that’s Drake.”

Hana gets a pinging sound on her phone seconds later, “It's a group text from Liam. The cars arranged to take us to the tea party have arrived. We're to meet in the dining car to coordinate who is traveling with whom.”

Kate breathes a sigh, picking up her clutch. “Ok, off we go then.”

Drake is leaning against the wall looking at his phone when he hears the sound of voices to his right, causing him to look up. Kate and Hana are giggling as they approach hand in hand, and then they stop as Kate sees Drake and gasps. “Oh..my...God! Look at you.”

With a smirk, Drake straightens up blushing. “What..do I look that bad?”

Kate shakes her head, then appraises Drake all over again with a head tilt and a slow look from head to toe and then back up again. “Nah, ah. Hardly. You’re looking like a tasty snack.”

Drake clears his throat, raising his eyebrows. “Heh, look who's talking. If I’m a snack you're definitely dessert.”

Hana grins at them both, rolling her eyes, “Ok lovebirds, quit with the flirty food talk and making eyes at each other we’ve got a party to get to.”

Stepping aside, Drake nods. “But of course, after you Ladies.”

Taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes as Kate passes him in the hall, Drake falls into step a few paces behind them. Damn she smells nice, this party isn’t going to be torture at all.

:::

tagging: @jovialyouthmusic @sirbeepsalot @emceesynonymroll @emichelle @mskaneko @speedyoperarascalparty @dcbbw @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @drakexwillow @kingliam2019 @kimmiedoo5 @gardeningourmet @drakesensworld @mfackenthal @thequeenchoices @debramcg1106 @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @wickedgypsymoon @griselda1121 @indiacater @texaskitten30 @nikkis1983 @lynne1993 @bobasheebaby @drakesfiance @moonlightgem7 @princessleac1 @janezillow @jlpplays1 @walker7519 @drakesensworld @furiousherringoperatortoad @samihatuli @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @rainbowsinthestorm @burnsoslow @bbrandy2002 @jessiembruno @msjpuddleduck @princess-andromeda-nazario @princess-geek @mom2000aggie @batgirlassociationofgothamcity @masterofbluff

#drake walker #choices #what happens in paris #drake x kate #long post

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bigkyle990 · 3 years

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A Witchy Pirate part 2

And hear we have an event one year later, the Arc Crew getting involved in one of the more important events in the One Piece world, following just Luz’s side of course. There is some blood and character death(not anyone people actually care about, hah) in this one, so please beware. It’s not to graphic, but still feel it’s best to warn you. You can also read Part 1 Here Once again, please continue under the cut for the new piece and enjoy

One year later

The seas of the New World were a turbulent place on any normal day. Unpredictable weather, swarms of monsters deep beneath it’s sapphire waters, and chaotic ocean currents abound at any given time between its many islands.

Today however, a far more chaotic event is taking place near the beginning of this half of the Grand Line.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The crashing water as cannon fire rang out among the waves of the sea, a pitched battle taking place between a group known as the Blackbeard pirates against the remnants of the Whitebeard Pirates and The Arc Pirates. The latter joined in after the pair of crews began their battle. Luz dodged past a spear strike and swung her hands out, twisting them and forming a glowing red glyph before she shot her hand out. The glyph began to glow brighter, spiraling in on itself before releasing a burst of flame on her attacking opponent, who quickly dodged out of the way and laughed. “Murunffuffuffu, you are one fiery young woman.” One Caterina Devon laughed as she landed a bit a ways on the massive logs of the Blackbeard Crew’s ship and spinning her spear. “Your head will make a wonderful start to my new collection!” She smirked charging in again in an effort to drive her spear into the young Wild Witch, only to be met by the stopping force of a new Glyph. One that not only halted her attack, but blew the massive 11 foot woman backward. “Yeah right, like I’m gonna let you get anywhere near my head, you crazy bitch!” Luz yelled, clearing out the Impact Glyph and slamming her hands down on the ship below her. A new glyph formed, a large green one, causing the wood beneath to splinter and grow into new branches that shot out, attempting to ensnare the woman.

She watched, annoyed, as Devon dodged between the branches easily. “Haki, I should have guessed…” Luz growled, before her own senses tipped her off and she swung up a hand, calling up a shield between her and the loud clang of a blade. “Damn it Vista! Keep your opponent on your side of things!” Luz yelled. She was currently holding back a large looking man in a jailor hat and clothing, along with a still smoking cigar in his mouth. The man grinned pushing against her shield, something she had to reinforce by putting her own Armament Haki into it, turning the shield from it’s normal dull orangish color, to a far darker orange. Her struggle didn’t have to last long though, as a wide chested man dressed in a top hat, cape, and fine looking clothing dashed in with his blades, swiping at her aggressor and causing him to retreat back, landing next to Devon who wasn’t far away. “My apologies, Wild Witch.” The new man grinned as Luz’s shield fell and she got up, ready for the next attack. “This Shiryu of the Rain is a much more slippery opponent than I expected. He was able to distract me just enough to get away.” “No worries Vista.” Luz said, flinging her hands out as she coated one in flame and the other in ice, gripping them both to create blades of each element. “It feels like everyone on this asshole’s crew is good at being a bit tricky.” She paused as they all heard a beasts roar and a large man’s howl of pain, looking over to see the massive form of Sanjuan Wolf being bombarded by a large purple and green dragon’s flames. “Okay, except the one Spike is fighting right now, that guy seems a bit slow in the head.” “Yes, Wolf was never well known for being a clever man. Still.” Vista stated as he focused on their enemies. “I thank you and your crew for standing with us in this fight. I fear we would not be fairing as well if you hadn’t stepped in.” “Don’t thank me, thank Jaune, he was on the old man’s crew before splitting off to make his own, said that he was still family and couldn’t let what Teach did go unpunished.” Luz said, before charging back into the fight itself. “Haha! Well said, glad Arc never truly left us!” Vista grinned, charging in right after her.

The two took to fighting together on this from now on. Working their best to keep up with each other and put the pressure on their opponents. Devon was more of a mind to be cautious as the two showed signs of working together, Shiryu deciding to charge in and beginning to battle the two. Vista would quickly come in with his blades, looking to occupy the former Jailor of Impel Down as Luz worked to get around his guard, swinging her blades of ice and fire on the man. Though she made sure to keep her eye on Devon. A smart plan as the tall woman attempted to attack them from behind multiple times, either blocked by Vista’s blades or Luz, the latter nearly burning her spear in her hands and even able to form ice around her hands. Painfully sticking it to her grip.

That was able to get Devon off the fight long enough for both Luz and Vista to press on Shiryu much more fiercely. Driving him back as he found himself covered in cuts, burns, and even froze parts of his joints. “You think this will end me! I survived far worse in Impel Down, you fools.” He growled, adrenaline pushing him further as he began to charge them. Luz moved forward first, hand glowing an icy blue as she quickly drew a large Ice glyph in the air and moved out of the way. Right behind her Vista came forward blades crossed in front of him, before swinging them out towards the Glyph and releasing an air pressure blade that broke into what looked like a flurry of rose petals. When they came into contact with Luz’s glyph, they froze immediately, becoming a flurry of frozen petals of ice that shot towards Shiryu at a speed he couldn’t dodge. The man’s eyes widened as he tried to block as many as he could with his own blade. Slashing and blocking at each that came in, but they were far too fast for him to keep up with and began to feel the frozen blades dig into his body. Biting back a scream he crossed his arms over his head, only to feel them start to stiffen. The blades were freezing him from the inside, his body quickly becoming more rigid with each passing second, until he could no longer move. He stood, frozen in place and dead to the world. Vista panted a bit and smirked. “Not bad Noceda, like that little combo you came up with…” He stated with a light grin as he tried to catch his breath from the fight. “Thanks, thought it would be effective.” She grinned, only for both of them to be shocked as Luz suddenly found a spear run through her stomach and coughing up blood. “Murun Ffu Ffu Ffu… A pretty thing like you… Shouldn’t be working so hard.” Devon smirked as she lifted Luz off the deck of the ship they had been battling on, savoring the look of pain and anguish on her face. “Noceda!” Vista yelled, charging to save the young woman, only to be bashed aside by said woman’s body being swung into him. “Keep out of this ‘Flower Sword’.” Devon smirked before looking back to Luz. Luz panted, grunting in pain as she gripped the shaft of the spear and glared at Devon. “I thought… You… Wanted my… Head…” She spat out, venom drenching her words. “Oh I do, make no mistake.” The taller woman drew her in closer, a sick smile growing across her face. “I just don’t want to ruin it before I can collect it… Murun, Ffu, Ffu, Ffu...” Luz looked up to her, eyes still showing fight in them as she grinned, a small trickle of blood coming from the corner of her mouth. “Too bad… You should have aimed higher…” She held up her hand, a glowing yellow glyph having formed that she quickly crushed just as it became coated in Haki. “Sparking…” Lightning shot from the shattered glyph, shooting into the air, shocking Devon enough that she let go of her weapon, Ice having been removed by force. “Ragnarok.” Luz finished as a mass of lightning coated black with her own Haki shot down, striking Devon and making the woman scream in absolute pain as 300 million volts shot through her body, scorching the wood of the deck underneath her. When the strike ended, Devon’s body was shown, completely blackened by the heat of the strike and crumpling down to the deck. Another member of the Blackbeard Pirates was gone. Luz picked herself up as Vista made his way over to her, watching as she coated her arm in haki and broke off the long end of the spear. “Best to keep that in for now… Don’t want you bleeding out before we get you to a doctor.” He said with a slight chuckle and helped her to her feet. “Yeah… Bella wouldn’t be happy about that…” Luz giggled weakly, coughing up more blood from the action. “Ugh, this sucks… But better than dead I guess…” “That it is, now hold on for me, not unwounded myself…” Vista grinned as they made their way for a doctor.

_ Time passed and the remains of the war came to an end. Luz herself had been sidelined by her injuries for the remainder, but she knew she did well in how things had gone for her. The remaining members of the Blackbeard pirates had been killed, both Jaune and Marco the Phoenix taking “Blackbeard” Teach’s head in its final moments. What forces that remained retreated upon seeing their captain and all their officers slain. Though that didn’t leave their side without it’s losses. Something that would be mourned later, but for now they celebrated their win. A battle that only lasted a single day, but still held ramifications for the lands of the New World on who would stand above others. History would later name this battle the Payback War. A war started by the remnants of the Whitebeard pirates attacking the Blackbeard pirates in a drive for vengeance for the death of their late captain Edward Newgate. A war that they would have lost, had it not been for the intervention and alliance of the Arc Crew to turn the tides of fate in their favor.

#writing #fanfiction #fanfic #mass crossover #Owl house #one piece #OnePieceau #luz noceda #Lumity #blood warning #death warning

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fae-fucker · 3 years

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Review: Death Wind by Tara Grayce

Essie should be planning her happily ever after, not planning a war. Although they once were enemies, the humans of Escarland and the elves of Tarenhiel have allied to fight the trolls from the far north. But alliances are tricky things even in the best of times, and with Farrendel, the elves’ foremost warrior and Essie’s husband, captured by the trolls, the circumstances appear dire indeed. But Essie won’t give up, and she will make her two peoples work together to fight this war if it’s the last thing she does. One way or another, she will get Farrendel back, no matter what it takes.

Gonna be honest, didn't expect much given my lukewarm reaction to the previous two books, but this one? This one actually held my attention for genuine reasons rather than just being a light read. Because the plot involves a lot of conflict (arguably the biggest conflict possible, war), the pacing is steady, and two of the three POV characters are mostly suffering and/or being tortured, there's actually tension for once. It's a welcome change, and proves that the author is very much capable of writing it but just chooses not to in favor of boring and conflict-free family interactions.

With Melantha introduced as a POV character, we're offered a pretty buckwild concept for this series: a character that makes mistakes and has to live with the consequences. I actually found myself liking Melantha, not because I thought she was a compelling character (she wasn't) or because I felt bad for her (I didn't), but because she had what Essie didn't: flaws. There's even a point in the book where Melantha thinks about how much she dislikes Essie because Essie is so sugary perfect and everything Melantha wishes she could be, and I think it's supposed to show us how bitter and insecure Melantha is? Except she's 100% correct, Essie is literally too perfect to be a real person and I just sat there going "yeah, you're right, and don't feel bad for being shitty because literally nobody can actually be like Essie."

However, Melantha suffers from Stupid Bitch Syndrome, which doesn't exactly make for a good protagonist/POV character. She's not intended to be dumb, the book expects us to think she was simply misguided and bitter and not, like, a complete idiot who should've known better. But her instant remorse feels less like character development and more like her suddenly realizing she’s actually a huge idiot who fell for the enemy’s nonsense, which she is. She's supposed to be an older elf, a grown woman, yet she makes such an obvious mistake and immediately regrets it and folds like a wet blanket the moment shit hits the fan. It's honestly a bit pathetic. The only reason I preferred her over Essie was because she introduced some much-needed depth to the character roster, but that depth was still about the size of a teacup, compared to Farrendel's thimble and Essie's singular water molecule. Her relationship with the troll prince was actually ... interesting? It was all mostly unspoken, which I think made it stronger than the overly telegraphed thing Essie and Farrendel have going on, and I’m sure it’ll be flattened out and become boring in the next book, so enjoy this potential before it’s wasted.

Farrendel spends the entire book being tortured and thinking about how he's being tortured. I can't blame him, but it doesn't make for good reading. I honestly think his POV could've been left out altogether and it wouldn't have changed much. Melantha is already there with him letting the reader know he’s suffering, we don’t need two POVs telling us the same thing. Oh uh, except for the part where he ... puts his magic in a soul-bond pocket. I'd mark this as spoilers but it's literally on the cover. I guess if his POV was removed then we'd never know how Essie learned to blast his power in battle at that one convenient moment, but it barely affects the plot afterward so um, yeah. I'm having a hard time justifying his POV at all. I'm still not over that part btw, how Farrendel just ... makes a "mental fist" (no, really), grabs his magic in one and his soul bond with Essie in the other and just puts them together like he's connecting two cables to an adapter. And he knew to do this ... how? It's not like we've seen him experiment with his magic before, in fact he's been shown to hate it and only use it when necessary, but apparently this tortured and exhausted man has the presence of mind to try something as vague and theoretical as ... putting his magic in a soul pocket. He spends a few pages going “I wonder if I can do this” and then it works on the first try. He does consider whether it’ll hurt Essie and decides not to try it, but as I said, he does it soon after anyway so like ... I don’t think it’s supposed to be funny or show how little of a shit he gives about Essie, but that’s sort of the implication and I thought it was funny as hell.

Anyway, the magic pocket is about as much worldbuilding/lore as we get from this series entry, aside from the trolls having their own political intricacies and tensions, which I’m assuming the next book will expand upon. The writing itself in this book was pretty bad at times. The repetition of certain words and names was really glaring in some parts and felt amateurish. Take a shot every time the word “magic” appears and you’ll be in the grave before the book ends. Prince Rharreth and King Charvod are almost always referred to with their full titles and names for some reason? A few editing rounds would’ve helped this a lot, methinks.

The plot is mostly moved along in Essie’s POV, which is slightly less insufferable than usual because she’s the one observing the movement of the two armies and there are actually action scenes in there that, while don’t exactly made me worried about her (there’s no way this perfect idiot will ever die), still provided some tension. But it’s honestly not much, the “war” lasted two entire weeks (and that’s including the strategy, logistics, and mobilizing) and with how fast the armies travel and how little resistance they face (and how Deus Ex Farrendel-d the final battle was, the guy is apparently full of godlike destructive power despite being starved and tortured, go off king), it all felt very unrealistic and easy. Like, we have two armies marching in the middle of a mountain chain during magical snow storms, all while being regularly assaulted by the defending army, and they still get there no problem, without a single mention of soldiers struggling not to die of exposure. Aight. I guess these elves and humans are just very resistant to the cold, for some reason.

I have a sneaking suspicion that the reason it goes over so fast in-universe is because the author wanted Farrendel to be horribly tortured throughout his captivity, but also knew that if that lasts too long, the damage will be too severe to easily resolve in the next book. But instead of easing off the hardcore torture, because then we’d lose out on that drama and those High Stakes, she decided to speed up the whole war thing, because hey, who cares about that, anyway? We just want Farrendel back, right? Riiiight? Better hurry up guys! Don’t want Farrendel to be too tortured to fix with some strawberry-flavored medicine and vague counseling in the next book!

So yeah, the plot moves on speedily, but at what cost? Mainly depth. Again. And once again, Essie suffers the most from being a bland caricature of a person and dragging the whole thing down. The author’s GR bio says she writes “spunky and tough” leading ladies, and I guess having no other things in your brain except sparkly kitten gifs is a certain kind of toughness in an “immovable object” sort of way, but “spunk” implies a of counter-culture edge that sweet widdle Essie simply does not have.

There was one small section where Essie felt bad over how the human and elven warriors were going to die, how many mothers and sisters and daughters would suffer just so she didn’t have to, but then we don’t find out the death count, the casualties are never even mentioned, and Essie moves on from this without even a single thought questioning the morality of a monarchy or her own position of power. Now, I get that that’s not the focus of this series, but it just adds to how Essie’s worries are always surface-level and never justified by the plot, how she never has to do any introspection and is never allowed to not always be annoyingly positive. Whenever she even begins to think something negative, she instantly, almost compulsively changes trajectory and just decides not to worry about it, and then it never comes up again anyway. This would’ve been like, an interesting take on toxic positivity and how Essie represses her own emotions, but no, the book never goes there, she’s just that perfect and wee and optimistic, even during a war and when her husband’s being tortured to near-death. It’s kind of insulting to read, honestly.

Oh yeah, that’s another thing that annoyed me. Even when she loses Farrendel, she takes it surprisingly well and focuses mostly on keeping a positive attitude for his sake, so he doesn’t feel her sadness through their “heart bond.” I never really felt her loss, her love for him, when she so easily could just decide not to feel bad “for his sake.” I want her to feel bad, I want her to miss him and to ache at his absence and to fear for what they’re doing to him. But no. That would just upset him more and hurt him more. So Essie doesn’t get to experience any negative feelings because it might upset her husband. Essie doesn’t get angry and determined to fight, she just keeps being her cheery little Stepford Wife self because being nice will keep everyone’s spirits up and make them hope and fight harder to preserve that hope!! :)

It just comes off as really flat and moralistic yet dishonest at the same time, because nobody would fucking react like this IRL. Essie might be a good person in-universe, but she drags the entire series down just by being perfect, cheery, and never, ever challenged or even allowed to challenge anything herself. Essie isn’t allowed to have any negative feelings because it might affect her husband, and yet we’re supposed to find this empowering somehow? We’re supposed to believe she’s spunky and confident and a sweet little firecracker of a redhead?

Eugh.

At least Melantha is an idiot, I guess. One whole female character gets to have a flaw, and she’s the almost-villain who needs to be fixed with love.

Idk man. The sexism in this series is like a constant undercurrent that grows stronger with each installment as our “understanding” of this world expands. All of Essie’s brothers, including the king, are at the front lines because they are manly men “have to” be there, while the women who aren’t Essie or Jalissa stay behind to be mothers and caretakers. It’s never expanded upon and just sort of accepted as part of both human and elven society and the narrative treats it like this obvious thing that even Essie doesn’t really bother noting how unfair and/or weird it is. There’s not even a single comment on it. Essie is in the war not because she can fight but because Farrendel needs her, and Jalissa is there because ... Um. Because ... she. Uh. She needs to be there when they confront Melantha? She’s Farrendel’s sister? Idk. Jalissa’s main point in this series so far seems to be the ship tease between her and Edmund that feels awkward and one-sided as fuck.

So yeah. The pacing and plot flowed along really well, but the characters and the writing and worldbuilding are all just really undercooked, which, at three books into the series, feels more glaring than ever.

But hey, at least it was a quick read!

#book review #elven alliance #death wind

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