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thisisarcanereverie · 3 months

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Cutting Ties (DARK! Moon Knight x Reader) Part 3

A/N: I know, I'm back from the dead (shocker) I'm so sorry about the lengthy delay but here it is! This is Part 3 of a 3 Part fic. (Here is Part 2!) This is also a dark fic so please DNI Minors and others.

Now if you can interact or want to, please do! Like, reblog, reply!

DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS: kidnapping, angst (like a ridiculous amount of it), light cursing, slight suggestive content, I've never been to London or England in general so I'm going based off of what I've seen, I am also not responsible for your content consumption please be advised that this is a dark story with triggering elements, viewer discretion advised. English is my first language I just suck at it. No beta, we die like men! I do not own the picture above but i DO own the header below, it's something that I made. I might make a few others idk. Enjoy!

Summary: You're a former Widow on the run, only in London for a year you meet Steven Grant, a goofy gift shoppist. But is there more that meets the eye?

Weeks passed.

You had begun to notice a pattern, similar to the one they had before, one day it would be Marc who woke you up with turkey bacon and eggs and slept by you with your hands in his hair and then Steven would take his place the next day with oatmeal with fruit in it in the morning and smothering you at night. The only difference was that Jake had yet to show himself since the night he brought you here.

A small part of you was grateful for that but the larger (angrier) part of you wanted to see him again, if only to scream at him. However, you had to play this right, you had been working on both Marc and Steven on going to the doctor. You were careful, you knew if they said the wrong thing they wouldn’t go, so you played the part of loyal and dutiful girlfriend each day with a smile on your face and a calm, nurturing voice. Even your words were carefully thought out and rehearsed in advance, every time you mentioned the doctor you didn’t use isolating words like “you” and “me” or “I” instead using words that resembled unity and empathy (something they both had lacked in their childhood) such as “we” and “us”. With every sugared word you swallowed bile and chewed every insult into the insides of your cheeks. The Red Room was a vile place and you resent it with all that you are, but as you find yourself in this situation you couldn’t help but be thankful for their lessons in mental and emotional manipulation. Without them you don’t know what you would’ve done.

However, as you lay there with Steven’s arm around your abdomen and your gaze fixed on the calendar that hung on the wall in front of you, you hope you can hang on another forty-eight hours, the day of the appointment. You purposely made it for a day. It would be Steven in charge of the body. He was easier swayed and manipulated than Marc. He would let you go with him to the appointment, he needs you at the appointment. You’re his angel, his love, you would hold his hand as he tells the doctor how badly he sleeps and as the doctor writes the prescription you’ll excuse yourself. It can’t be before the doctor writes the prescription, Steven will get nervous and start looking for you sooner rather than later, as the doctor writes the prescription however the appointment will essentially be over but not quite. He will have to sit there and get the prescription and go to check out where they will have him make another appointment for a check in with the doctor before finally having time to look for you in the stalls. It gives you thirty minutes give or take to escape the building without being detected and stealing a car to get to the next town over where you’ll call your ID guy. If the ID guy proves to be a bust you know Yelena was always on the lookout for ex-black widows and she might help you like Natasha did the last time you needed to disappear. The plan was complicated, sure, it required perfect timing and a shit ton of hope and luck, but it was all you had. You were no stranger to seducing, manipulating, and betraying. They were second nature to you, like a coat you’ve left in your closet for so long but it still fits like you've never abandoned it at all. Still though, you’ve never betrayed someone you had loved before, and the guilt at the thought of Steven’s confused and distraught face like the one he had at the apartment was almost enough to kill you. Steven was relatively innocent in all of this, this wasn’t his plan it was Jake’s. It wasn’t his fault that they shared a body. Still, freedom comes at a price and Steven, Marc, and Jake would never allow such a luxury.

You find yourself slipping sometimes, finding yourself thinking it wouldn’t be so bad. That this life is exactly what you wanted to begin with, having your cake and eating it too. But you reminded yourself that this life was given to you without choice. That these men might love you in their own way, but all they want in the end is to possess you, to keep you whether it would be willingly or not, with chains or with vows.

It was later than usual, you knew you needed to sleep. You need all the energy you can get, after escaping in a few days you will probably miss the bed seeing as you don’t know where you’ll be but in either case you doubt you’ll be sleeping with a quilt or a fluffy pillow for a while. You try to sleep, counting sheep proved fruitless and the warmth of Steven’s chest on your back caused your body temp to rise to an uncomfortable degree. But you tried to remain still, you’ve been under worse torture than restlessness and uncomfortable heat, you should be fine.

…

You were wrong.

Gently you tried to scoot away from him, hoping to catch some sort of reprieve to no avail. Tried extending your limbs to the cooler parts of your shared blanket in order to cool at least some part of you down but that only helped little, only one foot managed to break free from the too warm confines and that helped significantly but sleeping like that felt too weird (too many horror movies with Jake). You let out a little frustrated huff, your attempts to cool off were met with failure. You were so caught up in trying to cool off you failed to notice the slight stir in the man beside you until you felt his breath next to your ear.

“Trying to escape again mi carissima?”

Suddenly, you no longer felt the need to cool off. Instead chills ran down your spine as the urge to hurl crawled its way to your throat. Your body went stiff as you felt him move from your side to leave the bed. You avoided looking at him, the all too familiar feeling of fear and rage made you hesitant to gaze in his direction. You contemplated reaching towards the nearest object and throwing it in his direction. But you looked at the calendar instead, freedom was two days away, you can’t ruin it now by revealing your true feelings. So with a deep, shaking breath in you sat and mustered up all the love and tenderness you could as you gazed at him.

“I haven’t seen you in a while lover,” you said affectionately as you imagined all sorts of violent, Taylor Swift worthy, things you would rather say to him, “I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.” you see him looking at you with apprehension, and what you could almost mistake for guilt.

“I was giving you space,” he said as he changed out of his sweaty night shirt for a fresh one, your eyes lingered where his sleep pants hung on his hips. Damn, you had forgotten that while the man in front of you was certifiable, he was also hot as fuck, and that if he turned around you knew your eyes would follow south. You couldn’t help it, with hips and an ass like that how could you not look at it and go a little feral.

“Well,” you cleared your throat a little, forcing your eyes to remain firmly on his face despite the almost magnetic force trying to pull your gaze downwards, “that was probably a wise idea.”

“I thought I had to do this,” he says, Jake was never one to halfheartedly apologize when he doesn’t believe he should “for us.”

“Still,” you said, hugging your knees to your chest, “don’t you think you should’ve brought it up with me? To give me a choice?”

“I’m giving you one now,” he said, eyes turning to you for the first time in weeks, “I wasn’t acting right before. I was angry and scared, you were going to abandon us like we didn’t matter. You weren’t even going to tell me the truth, you were going to leave that very night. I became rash, and crazy, and…” his eyes cast down towards the bunched up shirt in his hand, “I hurt you.” He tossed the soiled shirt into the laundry basket before turning his gaze back to you, “So I’ve been staying away, remaining a fly on the wall as I watched you with Steven and Marc. Punishing myself by seeing you but never touching you.”

“If I didn’t know any better,” you said with anger rumbling in your chest, “I would almost call the tone in your voice remorse.”

“I apologize for hurting you,” he states moving to the side of the bed where he laid moments before, before sitting the mattress sinking with him slightly. “I regret that deeply but I don’t apologize or regret bringing you here.”

“Then what the fuck are you doing?”

“I am giving you a choice,” he said, eyes bearing into you, “now that you’ve lived here for a while, seen what our life can be like. Will you stay?”

What?

Your eyes dart between his as your mind struggles to come up with any alternative motives he has behind this. He could be luring you into a false security, be sadistically playing with your feelings as a way to punish you further for trying to leave them behind.

“What would you do if I went?”

“I’d follow you,” he says with no hesitance, “I’d follow you anywhere mi carissima, from desert to tundra I’d follow you faithfully and without complaint.” his hands hesitantly grab yours, “I can handle myself, and so can Marc and surprisingly so can Steven. You don’t need to worry about us in a fight, but I will not force us to stay here. The choice is yours.”

There was a lot to think about, there were many contradictory feelings swirling inside of you. A mix of shock, anger, and the tiniest glimmer of hope were the most prominent. You see his eyes and know he’s being honest. He won't force you to remain in this house they’ve built just for you, but he won’t let you leave him. Though, looking back you guessed you never did want to leave them anyways. You were going to leave to protect them and now that you know they were more than capable of protecting themselves…you weren’t sure. You could always lie and manipulate them further, then leave like you had planned to do since you got here. But you could also stay…you don’t know.

“Do I have to decide now?”

“No,” he assured, “I won’t force you to,” he grabbed the spare pillow and throw blanket at the end of the bed, “I don't want you to get overheated again so I’ll sleep on the couch. So, don’t worry about making any decisions right now and try to get some rest…goodnight.” and with that he left. Leaving the door open behind him and leaving you in a state of shock and disbelief. You knew eventually you would have to see him again, he was a part of them but you’d never imagine it would go like this. You kind of imagined he would have the same look in his eyes like he did when he stabbed a needle in your neck, to act insane and possessive and obsessive and hold you hostage with no choice in sight. Except he just gave you one, something to ponder the next two days about.

Dread fills you as the decision lies in front of you. Waiting for you to make a choice.

Needless to say, you didn’t get any sleep that night.

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The past two days passed in a blur before you were finally seated next to Steven as he answered the doctors medical questions regarding his overall health. Marc and Steven seemed to have calmed down slightly in terms of spending every minute with you and never letting you out of their sight. It was odd, and now you were conflicted. After Jake’s sudden (and brief) visit your mind had been running a million miles trying to figure out what angle he could be playing. Was this psychological warfare? Was he testing you?

You excused yourself to the bathroom as planned once the intake was over, mentally your mind began counting down from thirty minutes as you stepped into the bathroom. As expected there were no cameras here in the women’s restroom, which was to your benefit, along with a window. It was smaller than you had expected but it was large enough for you to crawl out of. You were quick to silently click the lock on the door leading to the bathroom before you went to one of the sinks to turn the faucet on. Opening the window and crawling through was bound to make some noise and the rushing water was going to mute some of the noise you would be making. As your hand reaches for the hot and cold knobs you pause. Time was ticking away by the second, every minute you stood there undecided was a minute you could’ve had to get away. Yet here you were. Were you actually considering staying with them?

It’s horrible, what a few acts of kindness can do. Giving you space, giving you a choice…and you’re a mess. Wasn’t that what you wanted to begin with? A choice? There are only two ways that this plays out, you know this. On one hand you go, you turn the knobs and you run, like you’ve always done, alone. There was no guarantee that Yelena would pick up, there was no guarantee that you wouldn’t be thrusted right back into the life of a mercenary, there was no guarantee that doing this would grant you the freedom you’ve fought so hard and yearned for so long for. Was it freedom if all you did was hide and run? What would happen if you stayed? Jake, Marc, and Steven were an unpredictable risk. Jake could be lying, you wouldn’t put it past any of them to lie and act in order to keep you, even Steven…on the other hand, maybe this was a pattern of yours. Maybe all you ever do in any situation is run, run away from every complex thought and feeling and you never turn back. Maybe the reason you never felt free was because you weren’t meant to be. You can’t recall the number of times you’ve spent countless night staring at the ceiling instead of sleeping, with gut wrenching guilt as you replay all the terrible things you’ve done as a widow; the people you’ve killed, countries you’ve lead into war that orphaned children, secrets you’ve both hidden and exploited. There were nights you’ve asked for some sort of punishment that would ease the guilt that was slowly killing you. Maybe this was it, maybe this was the punishment.

Staying, knowing full well that this time there is no evil man behind you pulling your strings, that there was no one to blame but yourself for the outcome. Knowing that your last meaningful act of free will was to throw away the autonomy you had treasured as if it was something solid and tangible in exchange for a gilded cage with no means of escape and constantly wondering if you made the right choice.

And never knowing if you did.

Your shoulders slumped as the weight of it weighed heavily. What was it going to be?

Freedom in exchange for redemption, or redemption in exchange for your freedom.

You’re not as sly as you think you are–or–as you used to be. Jake had your plan figured out the moment you suggested Marc see the doctor for ‘sleeping medication’. He had to hand it to you, your manipulation tactics were impressive, the collective ‘we’ and ‘us’ and adoring looks and gentle touches were truly inspired.

You silly, silly little spider…did you really think anything that Jake had told you was true?

////////////////////////////////////////////

Yes, he admits he may have fucked it up a little by going a little bat-shit crazy and sticking a needle into your pretty neck and forcing you into a home that wasn’t finished quite yet. But he made up for it, he let you get this far with your little trick. It was the least he could do, along with offering a fake choice. You weren’t even going to make it to the nearest payphone (which is surprisingly still functional given its obsolete status) before he dragged you back home kicking and screaming if that’s what it took.

Still, though, he doesn’t like you kicking but as for the screaming (well, given the right circumstances he loves to hear you scream, especially when it’s his name)

So instead of outwardly calling your little game out, he decides to play along, acting none the wiser and giving the biggest performance of his life.

He knows you like to think yourself a master manipulator, but the truth was that without the constant threat of death and Dreykov’s mind control, your manipulation skills have gotten rusty. A once sharp and carefully polished tool now dull and worse for wear. Against easily manipulated fools like Steven and (sometimes) Marc, it’s effective. But he was the only one who was truly your equal. Jake was the only one who truly understood you. Steven had false memories to comfort him and while Marc and Jake lived with the unhappy ones, and while he wasn’t perfect, at least their dad never forgot Marc’s birthday. Jake had no one, had nothing–not even his own body! Much like you did as a widow. You were the only person who could possibly understand him and by extension he was the only one to understand you.

There is a strange power in being understood, it’s terrifyingly intoxicating, especially to one who is never understood. Jake had never been particularly interested in salvation or redemption in general, but you became his religion, the altar where he worshiped and the light that baptized him. Worshiping you was as easy as breathing, like it was what he was made to do. So he listened devotedly to every syllable from your mouth and he made a list of all you said.

Jake had wanted to marry you before showing you the home he had built, (well him, Marc, and Steven), he had it all planned out, the only thing he didn’t plan for was that night. Suddenly his light was taken from him, his comfort, his home, his life was stripped away from him before he could utter a word.

That would drive any man insane.

He made a few questionable choices, sure, but he paid for them and now here was his reward. Driving back from the doctors with a prescription he doesn’t intend on picking up with you in the passenger seat. Willingly and holding his hand.

He smiles, ignoring the way your eyes shine with unshed tears and how your fingers tremble ever so slightly as he pulls your hand for a kiss. None of that matters, you’re with him now.

With no chance of escape.

Ever again.

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midgardian-witch · 2 years

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You haven't seen The Mummy?!

Jake hasn't seen The Mummy and Reader realizes things about their feelings towards Layla and the Moon Knight System.

AO3 [MASTERLIST]

tags: fluff | references to The Mummy (1999 - 2008) | light angst | panic attacks

ships: Layla/Reader, MK System/Reader, Layla/MK System/Reader

Disclaimer: I do not have DID so my description of it is based on the show and my own research.

"What do you mean 'Jake hasn't seen The Mummy'?"

You look at the man in front of you in disbelief and frankly even a bit offended.

"Well, he didn’t front much before Marc and I knew of him, yeah? Usually just to protect us in a fight. So there wasn't really much opportunity for him I guess?" Steven answers sheepishly. Meanwhile, Layla is watching the exchange from the sidelines, holding back laughter at your comically exaggerated outrage. You jump up from your seat next to Steven and scramble to the bag you had left near the entrance when you arrived at Steven's apartment earlier.

"We'll watch The Mummy right now and I don't care if Jake protests. Because given what you guys do? This should be mandatory for new Avatars to watch!"

By that point Layla has given up on holding back her amusement. Shaking with laughter she is half draped over Steven, her giggling muffled by his shoulder. Steven too is giggling excitedly as both of them watch you return with your laptop in hand. Steven's electronics are well on their way to being called retro (if they aren't already) so your laptop would have to do. You aren't even sure if any of the men paid for a streaming service.

"I'll get us some snacks then, yeah?" Steven offers with a soft smile on his face. Layla watches him walk into the kitchen, looks back at you for a moment - a whirlwind of motion as you set everything up - and follows her husband/boyfriend.

You don't notice them leaving your presence, too focused on finding the right streaming service that actually has the movie you'd like to watch (and not the horrible mess that is the 2017 remake). Just thinking about the way both Layla and Steven will complain about and correct the Ancient Egyptian, how Marc will defend the aged special effects with his life (this man has a soft spot for action-adventure movies and it shows) and how Jake will critique the fight scenes between bites of popcorn, makes you grin.

The three (or five?) of you hadn't been friends for too long and yet it feels like you had known them for ages. A chance meeting in London had pulled you into their orbit. When you stumbled into them something just clicked. You got to experience Layla and Marc together first - their relationship so full of trust and love (though it had been rocky for a bit as they had told you later) was and still is a beautiful thing to behold.

You'd learned about Marc's DID much later. Meeting Steven and Jake for the first time made you so nervous you thought about bolting before you had even set up a time and place to actually meet. What if Marc liked you but his alters didn't? What if you didn't make a good first impression? Instead of giving into your anxieties, you spoke about your worries to Layla. She held your hand and reassured you that both Steven and Jake would like you. Maybe they wouldn’t like you the same way Marc did but there was no way they could hate you. “I doubt they’d offer to meet you if they didn’t already like you at least a little bit” Layla reasoned. Talking to her had calmed you down. Meeting Steven and Jake respectively still had you nervous but all worries were forgotten after just a few minutes with each man. They had been so kind and happy to meet you in person themselves, it was hard to remember your fears.

Since then you had become fast friends and spent as much time together as their chaotic lives as Avatars and your own schedule would allow. Between billionaire philanthropists with high-tech armor, aliens and literal Norse gods walking around, finding out your new friends worked for Ancient Egyptian deities was not that hard to come to terms with. Weirder things have happened after all.

"All done?"

You look up from your setup to find Layla looking at you, a soft smile on her lips. It's funny the way your heart feels lighter every time she does that. There were still moments in which you wondered how such a gorgeous woman can even be real and also friends with you. You return her smile and nod your head towards the couch, "Take a seat. Once we got the snacks ready we can start".

"Already on it!" Carrying a big bowl of popcorn in one arm and a few bags of chips in the other, Marc returns from the kitchen. He places the snacks next to your laptop. Sitting down in the middle of the couch, he pats the spaces next to him. Layla cuddles close to her husband as you stand there for a moment just admiring their intimate moment. They were such a beautiful couple. Catching yourself staring, you turn back around to start the movie.

Just before your finger can hit play, you hear Layla wonder out loud: "You never told us that this was your favorite movie".

You tilt your head towards her. "It never came up I guess? To be honest, the main reason I like it so much is that I had a huge crush on the main characters when the movie first came out"

Marc's reaction catches your attention from the corner of your eye, his eyebrow raised and his lips curling into a sly grin. He leans forward and you notice how the way he holds himself changes.

"Is that so, corazón?"

You clear your throat, feeling like you have a lump stuck in it from Jake's teasing.

"Well yeah? I mean what's not to find attractive? Evy is a beautiful woman who knows so much about her specific field of study. She has such a passion for Ancient Egypt, the stories and the language. Yes, she is a bit of a klutz, but it's endearing! And the way she is not just a bookworm but can also kick ass and is adventurous and kind?"

You stand up straighter, not looking at the other two out of embarrassment as you try to defend yourself.

"And Rick? Not only is he good looking with a body that could absolutely be sculpted by some gods. He is kind and he cares so much more than he lets on in the beginning of the movie. He is funny and yes, he is also a bit of a dork but again, it's charming. He is adventurous and knows the risks of the jobs he is taking and still does the dangerous thing because he wants to know more about the ancient mysteries and he wants to help Evy. The way he openly shows how smitten he is with her! The way they work together, fight together, a librarian and a mercenary turned adventurer that maybe shouldn't work together as a team or a couple but they do! And it's beautiful to watch and how could you not have a crush on th-"

You stop yourself mid sentence as your brain catches up on what just spilled out of your mouth. Head slowly turning, your gaze meets your friends sitting on the couch before you, their expecting, knowing eyes watching your every move.

Oh.

How did you not notice?

"...them. Have a crush on them," you finish under your breath.

You have a crush on them. On both. All. All of them. Oh God.

"I- I think I need to. Leave. Go. Go to the uhm somewhere. Yes."

Your legs move faster than you can think as you try to extract yourself from the situation. This situation where you in real time figured out out loud that you had a crush on your friends right in front of them. The embarrassment curling in your gut is making it harder and harder to breathe. Your hands start to shake and your face is heating up. How could you not have noticed you were falling in love?

"Hey, no, wait a second, yeah? You don't need to be embarrassed, love." Steven gently touches your shoulder, not forcing you to stop walking but asking you to, both with his words and his gestures. His voice cuts through your spiraling thoughts as your body freezes for a second. The warmth of his hand on your shoulder grounds you until you can finally breathe again.

"No, but this is embarrassing, Steven. I don't even know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. You've pretty much said everything already." Layla’s face fills your vision as she steps in front of you. "And to be honest I am relieved you did. We planned on telling you how we feel about you for weeks and just couldn’t find the right time." Her hands find yours, her warm fingers caressing them gently.

It takes a second for you to catch up on her words. You look up at Layla, her smile radiant and eyes shining with joy. Steven's thumb is drawing lazy circles along your shoulder blades as he continues.

"We were a bit nervous. Well, me and Marc were. Jake and Layla were pretty confident about the…uh. Whole confessing bit. Seems like you were a bit faster though, eh?" His nervous chuckle makes your cheeks heat up even more.

"So you. All of you? You like me too?"

You see Layla nod and hear an affirmative grunt from behind you from who you assume is Marc fronting. The blind panic you were feeling slowly recedes and your limbs start to feel heavy from the loss of adrenalin.

"We'll start things slow, OK? See how we all fit together. We don't have to decide right away," Layla reassures you and pulls you into a gentle hug.

You let yourself sink into it, your arms finding their way around her waist. Another set of arms wraps around you from behind. Surrounded and enveloped by the people closest to your heart, Layla’s warmth in front and the solid weight of Marc's chest at your back, makes you feel safer and calmer than you ever felt. Staying like this forever sounds like the best idea ever until you remember what brought all of this on.

"Starting slow sounds good. But there is one thing we have to do right away."

You reluctantly wiggle out of their embrace and make your way back to the couch, pulling your soon-to-be-lovers with you. The three of you settle down together, Layla and Marc flanking you on each side, staying so close as if they never want to let you go again.

"We still have to make Jake watch The Mummy," you offer with a sly grin. Jake's answering groan is muffled by Layla's laughter and the beginning sounds of the movie starting.

#moon knight x reader #marc spector x layla x reader #layla el faouly x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight fanfic #moon knight #mk system x reader #reader fanfic #moon knight/reader #MK system/reader #layla el faouly/reader #marc spector/reader #steven grant/reader #jake lockley/reader #fran-writes

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stevengrant-mybeloved · 2 years

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While I’ve seen both praise and criticism from people with DID or OSDD in the online community watching Moon Knight, (*disclaimer as I don’t personally have/experience DID myself*) the general consensus/average seems to be that it’s *pretty* good or at least halfway decent (depending what we see happening after episode 5), at least in comparison to other media depictions, as long as people understand it’s sensationalized for television and visual/dramatic effect and the like, but the problem is a lot of people, especially (but not exclusively) younger people who make up a large part of Marvel’s audience (side eyes some atrocious tiktok videos), aren’t understanding that and are taking these things at face value or at no value at all. And I think Marvel does the disorder a disservice by not outright stating in universe that that’s what it is: Dissociative Identity Disorder. Marc (though in fairness, he may not know 100% himself and it’s not right to place all the responsibility on him as a character) doesn’t explain the system or alters, Steven is still kind of in the dark even after finding other things out, and thus, so are the average viewers. Despite interviews and source materials and word of God (not moon gods), I still see posts and videos and tweets going around calling it schizophrenia or something when it’s not, or making jokes about the symptoms and the switches like it’s something fantastical made up just for the show and not a real struggle that real people go through. It’s not all their fault, the viewers, I mean, it’s unlikely they’d have come across this kind of thing in their life unless they personally know a system/are a system or have researched the disorder for some reason or another, but that’s where I think some degree of responsibility/accountability is needed on Marvel or anyone’s part when portraying such a stigmatized disorder (and yes in turn while consuming media with it, but the former is needed for the latter). No, they don’t have to hold the audience’s hand and spell out every little detail, but they should at least give the audience the word so they can spell it out themselves, you know? Because while they got some things right, there’s a lot they took creative liberties with or didn’t go into detail for and without the source, some people are going to see that as the source/only rep they’ve ever seen or not even realize what it’s representing, when a lot of stigma and ignorance could be avoided with one solid, genuine in universe conversation on the topic, even a simple one. A simple conversation, which could then lead to more meaningful, in depth, out of universe conversation, cracking open the door for discussion rather than leaving the burden of picking the lock and knocking and shoving the door open for discussion onto those its trying to represent. Bad analogy but I digress.

I mean, I enjoy Moon Knight (gestures to Moon Knight centric blog), but liking something doesn’t mean you can’t be critical/self aware about it and vice versa, and while not without its flaws, I think Marvel has taken strides in its portrayal of mental illness, in the way Marc and Steven both admitted to needing help, while also having the show reiterate that they’re not broken, in the way that the ableism coming from Arthur Harrow is clearly depicted as being wrong, as something the bad guy does, in the way trauma is explored/revealed as the root of this type of disorder, and it’s handled with respect we haven’t gotten before *cough* Thor *cough*, in the way Moon Knight’s powers are not connected to/a result of his mental illness and his mental illness is not connected to/a result of his powers, in the way the genuine stress and fear and confusion are depicted, the reality and desperation of the situation among the unreality of a world of gods and superheroes, again unconnected to the magical part and yet integral to the character nonetheless, in the way they don’t gloss over his struggles, they don’t downplay or romanticize it, but they don’t make his struggles his whole identity either, even in the way the topic of consent in regards to switching is explored and the switches become more natural over time. I do think they’re trying on some level, which is great, and general audiences won’t come out from watching Moon Knight with the same prejudice and misconceptions they would coming out from watching say, Split. I don��t think anyone or at least not many god forbid have the takeaway here that DID is what makes Marc (or Jake) kill or be violent, or that it’s dangerous to anyone but the system, or that integration is the way to go when it’s so often not or etc., but I’m also not sure how many casual audience members are going to take away the fact that this is DID at all in the first place, underneath it all, this is a real thing. Moon Knight is mentally ill, Moon Knight is a superhero with DID, and that means so, so much. It is not something you should ignore or demonize or magicalize or dramatize or pity or baby-fy or meme-ify, it is something you should empathize with and understand. But to do so: they have to stop being coy and say the words because show don’t tell is all well and good if the audience is used to what you’re showing, but when it’s brand new to a lot of them, no amount of hints will lead them to the right answer. Like a riddle where the solution is a song or phrase you’ve never heard of.

You can’t get anywhere without taking the first step... and that’s what people need to remember, this is a step, but it’s not the whole staircase and we need to keep going.

(I’ve never been very concise as you can see or eloquent, so not looking to argue or anything here, just trying to point out based on general observations and research, so apologies for any mistakes or misrepresentation or anything. As always, listen to those to which these things pertain, take some things with a grain of salt, and open yourself to learning)

#moon knight #long post

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pink-amethyst-tarot · 5 months

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Hello i'm here for your free reading, my question is if i will have sucess in my career music and acting? I haven't started yet

My inicials are SB 🌺

Sun sign is pisces, moon in sagittarius and risign gemini

Color: Purple

Thank you

Ten of Pentacles, Knight of Swords (Reversed), The Star, Queen of Pentacles

I barely shuffled and the Ten of Pentacles just popped out! SO THAT IS A FUCK YES!!!!! (if you want to work with a dope ass artist, Sikey M is a talented writer, singer, dancer and performer! I also write, myself and me and Sikey have written songs together, one being Highway To Love! Sorry for this shameless ass plug... BACK TO THE READING!)

OKAY SO BOOM! The way I'm seeing it happen for you, there is going to be something that you saw as a missed opportunity... or so you thought! It's almost like a movie or something where, it's like a chance encounter or something. There is a stork in The Star card from the Modern Witch Tarot Deck seen here. That makes me think that something is going to be delivered to you, king of like when the stork brings the baby. You are going to have a mentor or advicer that is going to set you on the right track!

You should be excited, to say the least. I don't even know what to say except, don't forget us little people lol @black-moonlight-712

GET A FREE READING FROM ME TODAY FOR A LIMITED TIME! DECEMBER 9TH AT 4:42PM (16:42) CST, THIS WILL BE CLOSED!

PLEASE INCLUDE YOUR NAME OR INITALS; YOU CAN ALSO SEND YOUR STAR SIGN(S) (SUN, MOON, RISING) AND YOUR FAVORITE COLOR!

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. THESE READINGS ARE FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. no guarantees are implied. These readings are not a substitute or replacement for any professional help or services. My readings are not a substitute for any form of professional legal, medical/psychiatric, relationship, religious/spiritual or financial/ business advice nor consultations. You should always see a professional legal/trained adviser for help in any matter. I am not responsible for any decisions/ actions you take.

#pink amethyst #pink amethyst tarot #tarot #tarot community #tarot reading #free tarot reading #collective message #collective reading #tarotblr #free tarot #black-moonlight-712

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theotherharem · 10 months

Text

Rules, Opens, Muses, and Au's

I am 18+ and OC friendly. I don't mind writing with people that are under 18, just let me know so we don't cross any adult boundaries. I am an adult and will not shy away from adult material. Some of it can get triggering, I will try to remember to tag things that I think may be common triggers. Let me know if I miss something.

I am a teacher and have disabled family members I take care of at home. Because of this I don't have a lot of free time. I also have two other blogs (find me on my main at @dadzxwa and my animated multi-muse @multi-musemenagerie ) I try to give all three equal treatment. That said, if its been awhile and you are waiting on a response, hit me up. I won't be upset, Tumblr eats things, and sometimes I'm just a dumbass and forgot to post something or saw your reply and forgot to put it in my drafts.

Disclaimer: I only write mlm romance. I'm perfectly fine writing unrequited love story lines, but please keep that in mind.

Muses

Din (Mando) Djarin

Canon

I haven't finished season three yet, but I am almost caught up! I'm comfortable writing anytime during the story or before. I do only write mlm, so I will be writing Mando as gay, though he may have experimented in the past, he knows his preferences now.

Modern/Super Hero AU

Mando is a mercenary for hire known for being dangerously efficient. No one alive has ever seen his face and he plans on keeping it that way. He was raised in a mercenary cult, removed from society, and while he has no problem with murder he does still have a code of honor he upholds. He generally wears an armored mask or full helmet, similar to his Mandalorian helm or similar to the kind worn by Slade in DC. This can be set before or after he accidentally becomes the single adoptive father to a nonverbal toddler.

Moon Knight: Marc Spector and Steven Grant

Canon

This will be set after the events of season one. Marc and Steven are, as of yet, unaware of Jacob. I won't be writing Jacob because I haven't seen him in the show yet, so he would be completely OC. I have not read the comics and don't see that happening in the near future (I just don’t have the time or money). I fully respect Marc and Steven's relationship with Marc's ex-wife, however, I only write m/m so won't pursue shipping with female muses, despite my headcanon that both of them are bi. I will probably write Steven as gay.

Opens

https://www.tumblr.com/theotherharem/tagged/open

#muses #rules

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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I really enjoy Star Wars but only from your perspective/takes do you have any fic you recommend your mind is a wonderful place to observe Star Wars much better than those movie should be

I still haven’t seen the movies lmao, and a lot of the fics I read aren’t necessarily the kind of thing I actually futz about with? But here are a few that mostly err on the side of comedic (I don’t have the energy to include disclaimers and warnings, so please check tags before you read anything):

Either outright comedies, or plot-heavy with significant comedic moments:

Untitled Soulmate Game - soulmate AU where the main plot device is that one morning a goose shows up and bothers you until you find your soulmate

Be Careful What You Sith For - Palpatine does A Sith Magic that results in everyone in the galaxy getting the name of their death (in the default timeline) written out on their arm. I... can’t remember if this is actually funny but there are certainly moments.

Sith Lord Swell - Luke and his students (Ben Solo is mid-teens) end up pre-TCW and... decide the best cover is to pretend they’re all Sith Lords. It’s all very silly and Luke goes in real hard on being a big ham, it’s great.

Wake the Storm - Mid-TCW Anakin swaps places with ANH Vader. His body comes with him. It’s all very confusing. I don’t remember how funny this one was, but.

Lies About Jedi - Cody uses a shiny trooper to guilt-trip Obi-Wan into taking a nap

Shining Bright Above You - chatfic clone hijinks

The Happening - yet more chatfic clones

GAR Requsitions - clones deal with bureaucratic nonsense

Soft Wars - TCW but, like, soft

Senator Obi-Wan AU - AU where Obi-Wan isn’t a Jedi, but insists on running into danger even more than Padme does

Old Man Luke - Sequels Luke ends up mid-TCW

Shifting Sands - Sequels Leia shows up on Tatooine a year pre-TPM, forcibly adopts herself into the Skywalker family. It’s not... technically a comedy, but there are a lot of satisfying “Why are you LIKE THIS” moments for everyone involved

Realign the Stars - time travel (Anakin, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, Cody, Rex) not primarily a comedy but there’s a lot of moments that are just like “Anakin won an entire moon and half of Tatooine by rigging the bets in a race” and that’s just. It’s choice.

An (Un)fortunate Haunting - Anakin is haunted by Vader’s ghost

The Corteous Art of Correspondence During A Galactic War as Performed Aptly by Certain Sith and Jedi - Rael Averross sends bitchy letters to Dooku during TCW

Bar Fights and Beaches - short and sweet, Anakin is very “dis mine” about his soldiers

Everyone is confused but R2-D2. - Vader finds out his children exist while on the Death Star, proceeds to cause problems

Din Djarin and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Time Travel Incident - Din Djarin time-travels to mid-TCW. Everyone assumes he’s a Mandalorian from so far in the past that the Jedi/Mando rivalry didn’t exist yet. He does not realize this, and accidentally keeps confirming their suspicions.

Not comedies but very good, mostly time ravel:

Living in Borrowed Time - Ahsoka & Rex do mental time-travel from their deaths to a day or so before their first meeting

wilder mind - Force-sensitive Rex!

Don't Look Back - shortly post-OT Leia gets physically transported back to just before AotC

Of Queens, Knights, and Pawns - Sequels Leia goes to sleep the night after Han dies and wakes up nineteen again, on the Death Star

Reprise - Ben Kenobi dies, wakes up physically thirty-five and several hundred stories below the Temple main floor, claims he’s 16yo Obi-Wan’s uncle, things spiral wildly in directions that make political sense but are also Very Odd if you want stations of the canon

Probability Matrices - Darth Vader dies, Ben’s ghost does A Thing, Anakin Skywalker wakes up a week before Qui-Gon arrives with almost forty years of memories he shouldn’t have. This series is like 50% therapy by volume so I love it. Din Djarin and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Time Travel Incident

The Dark Path Lit by Sun and Stars - Mental time-travel for Ben, de-aging and physical time travel for the OT trio. Feelsy.

The Desert Storm - Ben time travel, mostly serious, very long, good if you have a few weeks to waste (I admittedly took only a few days but binge-reading your weekends away is not recommended)

Double Agent Vader - a classic

into the desert - Anakin doesn’t go evil, fic is very heavily

Well It Goes Like This - Anakin doesn’t Fall, but everything else mostly still happens as it did; he manages to save a handful of kids and escape O66

#star wars #Phoenix Recs #spaceflowerprincess #long post

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

Text

Witcher Of The Night (Chapter 9)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST PAGE (FOR ALL FICS/ONESHOTS)

CHAPTER 8

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Geralt seemed to be rather mulish on sending you home after the incident back in the marketplace. Now, it was time for him to find a djinn, a djinn that could get you back home. Though, it may not be quite easy now because of feelings that couldn't be said out loud.

Warnings: Soft Geralt and Reader. In denial reader and also Geralt. (Very in denial lmao) Mention of Superman. 😉 An iron-willed Geralt because he's one stubborn witcher even though we all know he’s enchanted enough. Sigh. GERALT. 😫😣 (Kind of a filler chapter? Not much is going on. The next chapter will be filled with it. Hehehehe. Thank you!)

Words: 4.7k

A/N: WE’RE GOING TO HAVE THE FINAL CHAPTER FOR THIS FIC ON MY NEXT UPDATE. DUE TO GERALT’S PERSISTENT ATTITUDE. WE’LL GIVE THE WITCHER WHAT HE WANTS. FINE THEN. LMAO, JKJK! I’M PROLLY GONNA RECEIVE HATE ANONS AFTER SAYING THIS. HAHAHAHHHAHA!

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE!

Disclaimer: PNG's used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren't from moi as well. If you own the GIFs please do tell me so I can credit ya. Thank you!

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

Your muscles spasmed. The wound on your hip making you flinch and weakly whimper. Cold sweat filling your face as your hair was slightly damp from the towel that was draped across your forehead; slightly dry from the how many hours it was already there.

Heartbeat running miles after miles and a very disturbed heart from the dream you've had; you abruptly fluttered your eyes opened as you were met with the widest clothed back you have ever seen, your heart now panicking as you were wondering who it was. Uttering soft protests of the word 'ouch' filled the dimly lit room as you hardly used an elbow as support; trying to get a proper image of who was sleeping on the farthest end of the bed, giving you space that would show deepest respect.

Though, his burly form looked ridiculous over the small space he had to rest; leaving you having most of his bed.

His shoulders evidently raised as he gave out an obvious sigh of tiredness. Even though, your chills slowly died down and you were breathing in deeply and in a calm manner, every soft whimper that came out of your lips as you wanted to speak for the dream you had was keeping him wide awake.

Also, he was fully clothed and Geralt was darn not used to it as he sleeps.

The witcher was rather used to sleeping bare.

Those wide width of a shoulder suddenly turned around to your heed, lately realizing that his hair was chalky white and freely falling all over the pillows. Your bed warmer cautiously turned around, those peepers never fluttering open as he turned to face you; a puff of breath leaving his lips in enervation.

It was Geralt. Surprisingly.

"Geralt?" your breath was caught in your throat by the unexpected scene that a witcher was laying beside you when you were used to sleeping out in the kitchen. Also, for the undeniably fact that he was beyond gorgeous as he slept as well. "---I'm dreaming again, am I?" you've tightly squinted your eyes shut before opening them again to see him still there like a dream you never want to ruin, "---You're sleeping beside me," you thought out loud in complete utter astonishment, feeling the butterflies inside your stomach fly wildly. You've had your palms over your eyes, trying to cover yourself from the heat that wanted to travel to your face, "---I'm dreaming...I'm dreaming,"

Due to his heightened senses; which can be a pain in the ass sometimes, he could hear your heart beat thumping fast, making him open an eye while the other was shut just to see you covering your face in perturbed embarrassment.

Were you panicking right now? Yes. Yes, you were because Geralt's face was in front of you. Though, an arm far enough for you to keep your thoughts straight.

He'd kept one hand under his pillow as he completely fluttered both eyes opened, peering back at you with weary; a want to chuckle from how your thoughts seem to be crashing over one another, "You're dreaming, midget."

You peeked under your slightly opened fingers, "I know....I am," an abrupt long pause came with your statement midway, trailing off as you've felt the air cease from entering your lungs by how you were mesmerized by the beauty he served.

Those Aurum eyes were undeniably marvelous beneath the candle light. Totally blinding from how beautiful he looked with those glowing peepers staring back at you with tangible softness that powdered your insides in such a way that caught you in a charm that you never had before.

Maybe, this was the best dream you ever had. More so than the nightmare from a while ago that couldn't get you moving.

"Those...knights, bandits, villains or whatsoever," you started with a tone full of ire. Confidently staring back at the witcher who was gazing back at you in curiosity; waiting for your next rant like a behaved pup. You had a teeny tiny bit of confidence to rave out because you knew that everything was just a dream, just like the one you had prior, "---They're...they're bad guys. They're boogers!"

The smile was inevitable to come through him. His moist, cherry lips forming in an adorable crescent moon that made your heart flutter like no other. You shifted on the bed, tilting your head to get a better view of those rare beams he was having; wanting the image to last longer.

"They're what?"

There was a slip of his teeth, making him appear captivating more than ever; like a toothy grin when you've uttered your last words with spite yet utter tenderness which came dripping off the letters. He found it adorable, to be honest. Especially, your wrath that doesn't last long enough for your kind heart.

A kind heart that wouldn't deserve his.

"I'm not going to repeat myself," your lips jutted in a pout as you could feel that he was giving back a teasing, playful ridicule. His hand that hid underneath his pillows made him even appear more sweet despite of his intimidating, strong persona, "---Actually, I might when I can get you smiling like that,"

Geralt's beam fell as you mentioned the obvious. He'd gruffly cleared his throat; mouth forming a thin line just how you'd imagine him as always. Briefly looking away before he'd heard a fetching, accidental tee-hee that sputtered music out of your mouth; making the witcher ogle back from how your smiles twinkled like the stars in the night; forming an alignment that felt so just and perfect.

When your giggles fleeted, you couldn't help but drowsily blink back at the witcher who was keeping you under his scrutiny; being pulled by his magnetic, brooding charm as he was silently eyeing you like he had something to say but chose to stay silent like he always do.

"You're...beautiful," it was abrupt. A vulnerability of your heart speaking out the truth. Geralt stayed silent, his thoughts utterly kept to himself as he continued his silence, "---How can I be as beautiful as you?"

The witcher raised a brow as he said his next words; patiently, soft, and deep, "You can't, because what I am and what I do doesn't make me one,"

Your lips thrown a frown at that as the heart could also feel what your emotions have been experiencing. He probably had that engraved inside his head since the day he was a monster-slayer.

Though, you never believed that because deep down you trusted your intuitions that he was a good man no matter what he says.

"You know how rough looking you put as a facade? But, you're actually a pillow on the inside?" his deep grumble of protest that vibrated out of his chest was enough for you to know that he was complaining and utterly objecting for the fact you've shared, "That's you, Rivia."

The latter hummed in amusement, "That's not a name," he jarred, a vague toned down hiss as he deeply stared into your eyes. Your misunderstanding about reading what more could you say to make him feel different in a good way; got you confused and thought he was giving you a glare. But, you were never scared of his death stares as you played it off with a playful banter, "Ohhhh, laser eyes. Superman style with gold peepers!"

Yet again, Geralt's eyebrows suddenly twisted in bafflement from the name; finding it hilarious as how it sounded child-like for him and completely out of the box; never hearing it before and wouldn't plan to hear it again.

You've waved off his curiosity about your modern references and grinned from ear to ear, peering up at him like a cat, "May I repeat," pause. "---That's you, Geralt."

He left it as that. The moment letting it flow as he stayed quiet.

The way you smiled made the latter sigh; having this kind of connection with another person was fulfilling; leaving that hollow part of him in bliss as he remembered how long it already was since the last time he'd have a proper conversation with another that involved pure chastity. Yours was even beguiling to begin with as there were no fornication happening; nevertheless, it leaves him on cloud nine.

An idiosyncrasy that he couldn't decipher nor understand.

You carefully shifted on his bed, trying to slightly move your body if it was possible and you were surprised that you could, feeling the wound numb like there had been medication, "If this is a dream, then I don't want to wake up," another pause. Geralt tiredly blinked another, his long eyelashes tempting you to flick them when he sleeps, "---because at the end of the day, you're back to being mean to me by ignoring my presence even though I'd been good to you since that night,"

You've gave a quiet, grudging huff at the witcher who was eyeing you in utmost curiosity as you've boldly scooted closer and closer. His engrossment making him narrow his eyes back at you when you've positioned yourself to the fore of his prominent, clothed, thick chest.

"What are you doing?" he gruffly questioned in utmost peculiarity, scooting closer to his body which made his body tense at the sudden action. Your succulent scent giving him another headache for whatever mishaps it may bring.

You even had the guts on laying on his strong biceps, scooting closer to his chest as he was stunned, wanting to move you away but never planned to. His jaw clenched as he exhaled a heavy breath, "---getting cuddles from my dream boat because this is a dream that I don't want to wake up," your face was inches away from his chest, hair tousled over his arm as he peered down in a flabbergast flash of his eyes.

"Your warmth is...palpable, kinda' weird for a dream," your voice seemed to be incoherent as you were flushed close to his chest, finding his warmth totally comfortable for you; too comfortable for the butterflies in your stomach having the jitters as you fluttered your eyes closed.

There was deep, labored breaths before you've felt his muscles steadily took its time to relax from your brazen act. Yet, it kept the witcher's eyes wide open as he waited for you to doze off before he does; that is if he could after having you near him and feeling intense emotions.

That was the problem with witchers who had the capability of feeling emotions. The way they felt about things were stronger and potent than normal people do.

He'd heard a yawn before feeling your forehead fall on his chest as you drowsed off with another large yawn, "Well, good night, Geralt from my dreams. I hope the real witcher stops being a meanie,"

Then, you were already in deep slumber.

It took an hour or maybe two for Geralt to get his sleep, and for the first time in a whole damn year; the kip he had felt like forever and definitely worthwhile.

The witcher finally got the sleep he wanted, although it could only be temporary.

The family seemed to have a plan ahead for their day. They've tagged you along even though your wound was still fresh. Shocking you to say the least as you felt no pain when you've woken up all alone this morning. There were fresh herbs and some plants that were crushed into grains to help your neuropathic pain that the wound has been causing.

You've woken up like a cat on a hot tip roof. Those dreams you had leaving you wondering too deep that you were thinking about how real your second dream was. Geralt and you on a bed? Sleeping like you're his other half? The idea was pretty much an ambition you could never reach. Being attached to him would surely complicate things when you weren't even from their world. You were acting as if playing with your heart wasn't painful as having a wound to your hip when you finally leave them for good.

Now, hearing the idea of leaving their family kept you on edge. There was the negations that make you want to stay despite of having your own life in earth. Sure, you had a family out there and was probably busy with their own life that they didn't realize you were gone. Though, you weren't sure because maybe they actually thought you were already dead after drowning on a lake and not remembering why it happened.

You were slightly taking a peek under your mustard colored long sleeved shirt, feeling the tight leather pants that was hugging your legs in a way that made you feel confident and comfortable. It has never been your go-to style before but you were already digging it now.

"You used magic for my wounds, didn't you?" every step you take towards where Jaskier, Cirilla, Geralt and Kolby where was great as you feel no pain. An utter miracle despite of seeing your wounds still fresh but slightly healing, quicker than how the medicines work in earth, "---Why can't I feel anything?"

You've changed your whole outfit for the journey ahead; hoping for a bath to relieve the sweat and tension away but you've noticed how it would require for water fetching with a pail of water and tons of going back and forth before you fill the wooden tub with water and you decided that it can wait.

Their wisecracking stopped when they've heard you take a flight down the patio, you've timidly and cautiously tucked your strands of hair behind your ears, feeling their heat of their stares boring holes especially the witcher's.

Geralt scanned you from head to toe, unintentionally licking his lips as he broke his gaze away from you when your eyes shifted on him. The latter went on in brushing the mane's hair, acting like he wasn't even looking prior before, "The healer gave you something more potent for your wounds, Midget."

You've also given him a once over; loving the casual outfit he was wearing aside from his dramatic armor that was perfect for a war zone. His fit made him look ravishing and breath taking. An unexpected huff of heavy breath slipped pass your lips as you blinked repeatedly to snap yourself out from being enchanted by his beauty, "You mean, a quack doctor?" you managed to get yourself together despite of how his presence caught you off guard.

"You...get it? Quack quack? A bogus?"

There was a subtle clear of your throat from your disturbing thoughts and by the pun that certainly wasn't understood by the people around you. With Jaskier and Cirilla looking at you in oddity and Geralt ignoring your attempt in delivering it smoothly, you knew your joke was already dead before it was even told.

Witchers don't read minds, right? you mentally asked yourself out of panic because of your thoughts before the pun. Kolby barked in his own way and came running towards you, leaning his head for you to pet. In the course of action, the adorable Hirikka pulled back in curiosity; loudly sniffing in the air as his head abruptly snapped to where your covered bandage was.

To your surprise, the Hirikka growled at it. His sharp teeth appearing as it snarled and looked furious as he eyed your hip; those doe, dark yellow eyes full of hostility as he continued his guttural growls that made you pull back your hands like you've been cauterized.

Geralt was quick to notice his sudden animosity towards you. The witcher instantly knew why it was reacting that way with just one look. Kolby was hating who'd hurt you, probably not just him alone because there was someone who also did. It was definitely a new fact that he knew about Hirikkas, they actually care.

Monsters still care. They do have a heart.

The witcher immediately and sharply whistled back at the Hirikka with a scolding sound. Just the sound alone made the bard hide behind Roach and it made Geralt roll his eyes for his call for cover. "Kolby." he firmly rebuked, trying to snap him out of it and calling the Hirikka with the name you'd chose for him; an automatic response of your brow raising when the Hirikka straightened its back and questioningly looked back at the witcher who was unfazed by the whole situation.

Here you thought he actually finds naming monsters or pets idiotic. You were definitely wrong.

"He's one of the best healers in the village," out of the blue, the witcher gladly informed you as he turned his body and cease from brushing Roach's hair to give you his sole attention. Regarding you with a faint smile and a pang of warmth that surely gave yourself a slap to the face because of how he was treating you...differently today, "---You were in good hands, so cease the worry."

He was rather calm and collected. A lot more than he usually was and it was utterly astonishing and delightful from his brooding ones.

At that final commentary, you were sure you'd seen his face twist in a more apparent beam as he'd sauntered to where Jaskier is; not letting you see what the bard saw. His face now stoic like those smiles you've seen had been a faux or rather a split second of your imagination.

You've stared hard at the witcher who stood beside Jaskier; acknowledging the hard shove at the bard who'd stumbled upon Roach's hip, his loud complaints muddled when Cirilla was hopping towards you with a toothy smile and a playful glint of her eyes.

"Geralt took care of you last night," she happily spoke, her eyes teasing and utterly giving malice at the fact that you slept on the witcher's bed. Was your dream true then? Did Geralt sleep beside you as you imagined it to be? Or he hadn't slept at all, checked how you were then went out to go do some witcher duties because he wasn't beside you when you woke up?

"I doubt, Cirilla."

The princess gave a playful shrug of her shoulders, grabbing onto Kolby's head and giving him a soft pat, "Suit yourself then, Y/N. It won't hurt to believe me,"

Jaskier fought from stumbling down by how the witcher pushed him back after teasing him about you. His grin falling when he was shoved by the stomach like he has been low-key punched.

The bard gave a set of coughs before loudly clearing his throat and placing his palms on his hips. A knowing look sent to the witcher as Geralt was fixing Roach's nose bands, "As far as I remember, I didn't want to include myself in this Djinny journey of yours again," Jaskier spat as a matter of fact, raising a finger to prove his point.

The witcher scoffed from his complaints; regretting why he was coming with, "Why the sudden change of heart, Jaskier?" his tone was somewhat playful no matter how gruff he sounded. Quite noticeable for Jaskier as he was used to his grumpy attitude since the last two years, "---I thought you wanted to be my travel companion?"

Jaskier wasn't ready for that banter and appeared to look like he was choking in his own words. He stumbled in his own words, ocean eyes shining in disbelief, "Not--not for another Djinn!"

The witcher turned his heel to give the bard a mocking grin, "You sound like a wailing bairn," he hummed, lowly chuckling at the bard who was totally awestruck at how he woke up on the good side of the bed this morning based on how his aurum eyes was twinkling underneath the rays of the sun, "---Besides, what's wrong in having your throat punched by the Djinn for the second time?"

"Oh bullocks, Geralt!" the bard huffed, subtly grabbing onto his own throat as the memories were slowly coming back to him and he shivered in trauma, feeling them crawl back to him like a kikimore, "---Leave my throat alone!"

"It's like hitting two birds in one stone," Geralt sent another sally, features creased in utter amusement, "---I get to help the midget, while I get my peace as well,"

Geralt avoided his judging gazes, probably scrutinizing how he felt like the witcher in front of him was a different person and not the white wolf himself. He promenaded towards Roach's stable, collecting something for the horse before they go on to finding a Djinn for you.

Without a doubt, the bard tailed like a pup for his owner. Jaskier grinned like a Cheshire cat as he followed the witcher who grabbed onto a carrot; his brawny back on show as the bard continued to tease, "You're changing the subject. I know those flirtatious glint in your eyes when you were talking to the small rat!" Pause. "---You witchers aren't exactly sly as you think you are,"

Geralt fully turned to give him a grimace, his impish aura falling from the bard's continuous teasing. Golden eyes giving him a sharp look, "Aha! You're flirting! You're trying to flirt with her!"

The witcher rolled his eyes at the bard's accusation. Jaskier entirely misunderstood his scowl, thinking that he caught him red handed or maybe it was actually him who misunderstands himself?

"---In good hands, huh? You obviously took care of her last night! However, that subtle flirting isn't quite exceptional for a witcher who already bedded a lot of women back in the brothels! Thought you were good with the ladies?"

Geralt scoffed from his plain retort, mouth tightly forming a frown as he tried to appear unamused at the situation at hand, "Did I stutter? I didn't tell her that her neck looks like a sexy goose, Did I?"

Jaskier's grin fell from the moment he said 'goose'. He crossed his arms against his chest and puffed out his chest like he was trying to overpower the witcher. His eyes filled with annoyance, "That's quite...offending, Witcher. Let's not cry over spilled milk already!"

Geralt ignored his endless protestations and jests, striding out of the stable to walk back towards Roach and stopping short as he'd seen you playing catch with Cirilla; a hungry player staying in the middle as you were throwing the apple with Kolby who was having fun as he tried jumping high to catch the food that was being thrown.

Jaskier's voice was like a fairy buzzing from behind, his banters were deathless. Though, Geralt certainly didn't mind the noise. Especially when those noises came also from the giggles that you and his child of surprise have been sharing in the midst of a huge problem you were currently experiencing.

It was like you had no problems at all as your eyes and smile twinkled against the sunlight. Those crescent shape of your peepers as you laugh was making you much more adorable than you can ever be.

Hence, the witcher was mesmerized by what you brought to him despite of being in a world full of chaos and beasts.

Your mere presence was bringing him sunshine and rainbows like he'd never seen before.

"I...." the witcher trailed off in a daze as he felt Jaskier stand beside him. The bard gave you a once over and even to Geralt when he tried to see whom bewitched the poor witcher, "---really do hope she's annoyed enough to wish for you to shut up after all the arguments you've had with the midget,"

Jaskier knew he didn't mean that in a bad way. He'd known Geralt for a long, long time now and the moment he'd shut him up back when he was attacked by a Djinn, the witcher came to his aid and tried his best for him to heal. No matter how many times he refuses to call him his friend prior to those days, his actions tell otherwise.

Geralt of Rivia was a witcher who was capable of having a heart. Trying hard to become a better human as days go by.

The bard smirked at his enthralled reaction. Struggling to throw his lean arm around Geralt's wide shoulders as he also looked out in the open. Specifically, at the scene that was happening before them.

You've threw the apple back at Cirilla. The Hirikka finally having his treat as he jumped as high as he can and devoured the apple like a wolf, making you both laugh. Your vision catching the men of the house which appeared like they were watching you three play. Heat came rushing up your neck again from how the witcher was staring in fascination with a hint of earnest; the warmth spreading through your cheeks as you sheepishly smiled and gave a little wave to acknowledge their presence.

Geralt was definitely caught off guard at that and rapidly blinked, shifting away from the scene before him as he gruffly cleared his throat to himself before the bard started to jest again, "Why are we even bringing the monster?"

The witcher roughly hummed; irked by the fact that you caught him staring and that he was even looking. He was suddenly frustrated. "To protect Ciri," his harsh tone was back as he turned his head to peer down at the bard who had his arm over his shoulders like a pal.

"What? This creature's a knight now? Really, Geralt?"

The latter's forehead creased in utmost discontent, snapping back at the bard who was smirking like a villain, "---To protect her from annoying bards like you who wails like a lass,"

He'd elbowed Jaskier that made him groan, immediately caressing the part where it hurt the most and whimpered from the tolerable pain. Jaskier surely does forget he was a witcher sometimes and provoking him wasn't the brightest idea especially when he's stronger than him. The witcher turned around at his playful whack for the bard and ignored his dramatic groans of protests.

"Aww, what a way to treat your best friend, Geralt!"

Jaskier continued to go after the witcher, glaring at the back of his head that seemed like it needed a thorough bath already. Geralt stopped in his tracks when he was finally face to face with his horse, "So, our argument last night really didn't move you at all?" the bard probed; tone sounding free from the guilt at what started the argument they had last night.

Jaskier shrugged to brush his quietness, the witcher seeming to keep his mouth shut as he started giving his horse a treat, "---Cirilla seems to like her around,"

Geralt deeply sighed to show Jaskier his derision, "Even you too as well, Jaskier." his tone was utter lackadaisical.

"No, I don't!"

The witcher gave him a sassy raise of his brow; questioning his guilty tone that rose in his voice, "Really? your persuasive entreats to never get the Djinn wasn't your way of saying that you actually like her around?"

Jaskier sounded like he was backpaddling and lowered his voice down into something more quieter that covered those laughter of everyone in the background, "Perhaps, a little..."

The witcher shook his head in disdain. Just thinking about it was annoying him with a reason that should've been thrown out in the dumps and never be thought again. He would never let destiny play him this time. Destiny should go fuck itself; having more than one person to protect would be a disaster.

"Her existence in our world is only temporary," he grumbled with a frown, facial features turning stoic and unnerved; like he had all the problems in the world on his shoulders, "---her beautiful destiny would crumble in our dimension. It'll ruin her for good,"

Geralt continued, never realizing his tone would grow nastier and even more deeper. He gravelly spoke at the bard who kept silent with a frown on his face for the first time in the day, "---She deserves better than to live in a chock-full of evil. If you plan on wanting to keep her then I suggest you never do because she will never stay,"

Geralt sounded like he needs more convincing with the words that seemed to feel like vile coming out of his throat. Those precious laughter ringing in his ears pulling him in for a decision that would consider himself as selfish.

He wasn't a fortune teller nor one of the gods, but he can change your destiny. As long as it was still possible.

She deserves more than to have a destiny linked with a witcher. Y/N could do better.

You were safer off in your world. Far from the man who would give nothing but darkness in your fantasy brimful of a felicitous ending because with a witcher---?

There were no happy endings. Only murk and danger.

FEEDBACK ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED, BB’S!! LOVE LOTS! ALWAYS STAY SAFE AND WATCH FOR MY NEXT UPDATES! AHONHONHON.

Taglist: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernatural @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Anime For Beginners: Best Genres and Series to Watch

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The past decade has seen anime’s popularity increase in dramatic ways, whether through a much broader spectrum of series receiving dubs, the growing success of anime feature films in theaters, or the sudden prominence of streaming services. There’s never been a better time to be an anime fan and the medium has become more accessible than ever. There’s a lot of anime out there, but the wealth of new series can often blend together or not be given a fair chance. Additionally, there are definitely certain types of anime that are more prominently showcased outside of Japan.

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For the uninitiated it’s easy to assume that anime consists of giant robots, monsters that battle, and strong fighters and magical girls that transform, but that’s really just a fraction of what the medium has to offer. Words like shonen, shojo, isekai, and even reverse harem are used in reference to anime, which can sometimes feel overwhelming when someone just wants to watch a silly romantic comedy or superhero clone. Here’s a helpful breakdown of all of the major anime genres and where to get started with them all.

Shonen

The shonen genre is by far the most popular brand of anime and the majority of breakout hits and major successes like Dragon Ball Z, Naruto, and One Piece all fit into the shonen brand. What’s interesting about anime genres is that they’re treated more like demographics and shonen is content that caters to boys with a young male protagonist. Shonen is so accessible because beyond this basic disclaimer, it’s able to cover a wide berth of content and a show like My Hero Academia can be completely different from Yu Yu Hakusho, yet they can still fall back on the same values.

Shonen anime has largely been generalized to be series that feature lots of fighting and battles, which isn’t always the case, but has become quite representative of the genre. Shonen series are ideal for people that want lots of action and are hungry for a show that has hundreds of episodes to consume.

Notable Series To Watch: Yu Yu Hakusho, Hunter x Hunter, My Hero Academia, Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba, Attack On Titan

Shojo

Shojo is the female counterpart to the shonen genre that caters towards an audience of girls rather than boys. The shojo genre isn’t entirely bereft of battles, but it’s a style of anime where relationships and emotional drama is the priority or the source of power. There are many eclectic kinds of shojo series that are content to explore awkward relationship drama where there’s typically some kind of atypical supernatural element afoot.

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However, the most popular style of shojo that’s largely become emblematic of the genre are “magical girl” series where regular girls transform into powerful warriors. There’s also typically a bright and pastoral aesthetic to shojo series and characters, both female and male, are beautified. Shojo anime is absolutely the place where the power of love will triumph over evil.

Notable Series To Watch: Sailor Moon, Cardcaptor Sakura, Fruits Basket, Vampire Knight, My Love Story!!

Seinen

Seinen is the R-rated evolution of the shonen genre that’s geared towards a more adult male audience that can handle mature storytelling. That’s not to say that shonen series can’t be violent or deal with adult situations, but seinen series often center around antiheroes and adult characters who are disenfranchised as opposed to optimistic youth that want to save the future.

Some of the most sophisticated and challenging anime series come out of the seinen genre and it’s a great place for people to jump in that are looking for a story that’s not overly drawn out and achieves the same dramatic peaks as prestige television. Seinen once more comes down to the viewers’ preferences and there are science fiction, horror, and fantasy seinen shows that all deconstruct their material in different ways. As a point of comparison, major anime movies like Akira or Ghost in the Shell both fit into the seinen genre.

Notable Series To Watch: Kill La Kill, Berserk, Ping Pong The Animation, Vinland Saga, Dorohedoro

Josei

Josei is the more mature version of shojo content and it’s full of series that are designed for women as opposed to girls. Romance is a big component of josei series, but it’s more concerned about the harsh realities behind relationships than the flirtatious courtship that kicks things off. Josei love stories are messy and full of heartbreak and they’re less romanticized than shojo’s interpretation of love.

A trashy way of putting it would be to say that Twilight is shojo, but Fifty Shades of Grey is seinen. Matters of the heart don’t always have to fuel josei series and there are also plenty of shows that center around adult women as they negotiate through professional and creative endeavors. It’s a place to find less flowery female-driven stories.

Notable Series To Watch: Chihayafuru, The Gokusen, Honey And Clover, Nana, Princess Jellyfish

Isekai

The isekai genre is perfect for fans of fantasy and this style of anime has become wildly popular over the course of the past decade. Isekai anime is any show where a character gets transported away to a fantastical new world. It’s a classic storytelling idea, but anime has been able to run with it in some creative new ways. There’s an abundance of isekai series that incorporate video game aesthetics and there are now just as many series where characters are trapped in a video game world than some alternate fantasy dimension.

Isekai can focus on the protagonist’s mission to return home, act as a savior in their new world, or simply kill time and enjoy the vacation. There are even reverse isekai anime where a supernatural character gets stuck on Earth and must acclimate. Arguably the biggest most mainstream example of isekai content is Spirited Away, but even something as foundational as Alice in Wonderland would qualify.

Notable Series To Watch: Overlord, Re: Zero – Starting Life In Another World, That Time I Got Reincarnated Into A Slime, KonoSuba, No Game No Life

Ecchi

Ecchi is that brand of anime that’s generalized to be the oversexed content that’s likely to make someone blush if they were watching it in public. Ecchi is any sort of anime series that prioritizes a certain sexiness and isn’t afraid to showcase its assets and indulge in “fan service.” Ecchi anime usually has a lot of skin on display, but it’s far from empty content and there’s an important distinction between something like this and actual pornography.

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Ecchi series titillate, but they still are concerned about their story and characters. There’s inevitably going to be some overlap between ecchi and seinen content (Kill La Kill is a series that really tows the line between both), but there’s often more of a gratuitous playfulness that drives ecchi content. Sexualized characters may bring in the audience, but the series are still deep enough to maintain their interests.

Notable Series To Watch: High School DxD, High School Of The Dead, Rosario To Vampire, Strike The Blood, Prison School

Mecha

Mecha anime are widely prominent and the visual of gigantic robots locked in combat as they fly through outer space feels like a tentpole of the anime industry. There’s a large awareness towards mecha series and it’s even entered mainstream live-action content through works like Pacific Rim. However, this visibility also makes mecha content easy to generalize and some may write it off without understanding the versatility of the genre. Mecha anime can be broken down further into real robot and super robot series, each of which apply a different level of realism to these unrealistic creations.

Real robot series might focus more on the humans that pilot the machines and the politics that surround mecha, whereas super robot content can feature robots that destroy planets with giant lasers. There can be a lot of gratuitous action in mecha series, but the human element in shows like Appleseed and Neon Genesis Evangelion, or how various Mobile Suit Gundam properties are dedicated to the casualties of war, is proof that mecha anime can be a lot more than just giant robot battles.

Notable Series To Watch: Mobile Suit Gundam, Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann, Appleseed, Mobile Police Patlabor, Neon Genesis Evangelion

Harem

Romance is popular in any medium and there’s often exceptional tension that’s created from out of a love triangle. One genre of anime takes that idea and seriously exaggerates it in a way that can sometimes be problematic, but has spawned a popular style of anime all the same. Harem series center around a hapless male protagonist who stumbles into some incredible situation where a large group of girls–all of contrasting personalities–fall head-over-heels in love with him.

Harem anime can come across as baseless wish fulfillment fantasy, but the broad structure allows many other genres to mix together with it in a productive way. A lot of the time these series will center on the actual characters and the complex relationship dynamics involved and try to say something that may not be explored in a josei or ecchi series. There are also reverse harem series, which take the same idea, but flip the genders where multiple men fawn over a woman.

Notable Series To Watch: Tenchi Muyo!, The World Only God Knows, Nisekoi, To LOVE-Ru, Ouran High School Host Club

Gag

Anime series are able to achieve a lot of things that just can’t be accomplished in other forms of animation or programming. Comedy is something that’s able to connect extremely hard in anime and operate at an absurdist level that uses visuals, timing, and premises that are rare to find elsewhere. Many anime series have a sense of humor or are even specifically designed as comedies, but gag anime are a different breed that operate at an overwhelmingly relentless pace.

Reality and the fourth wall are just things to break in gag series, which often engage in wild parodies and lampshade anime as a whole. Some gag anime have extended storylines, but they often operate in shorter vignette style sequences that allow the comedy to really pop. Gag anime thrive in pop culture references and some of the hardest times I’ve laughed in my entire life have been at gag series like Mr. Osomatsu and Gintama where comedy is king.

Notable Series To Watch: Gintama, The Disastrous Life Of Saiki K, Pop Team Epic!, Mr. Osomatsu, Excel Saga

Slice Of Life

Slice of life anime are those endlessly soothing series that don’t try to create major spectacles where the planet is at risk, but instead celebrate the mundanity of life. Slice of life series may center around the staff at a job, a group of friends in a high school club, or just a loner that’s moved to a new community. These are series that elegantly display the tiny moments that make life important and the bonds that create eternal friendships.

The stakes are often more muted in slice of life anime, but that doesn’t mean that they’re without tension or can’t dabble in fantastical material. There are still slice of life anime series that involve magical creatures or are set in unbelievable worlds. It’s sometimes even more humbling to learn that some planet in a far away solar system has a struggling chess club or that a dinosaur can be obsessed with different brands of candy.

Notable Series To Watch: The Melancholy Of Haruhi Suzumiya, Toradora!, K-On!, Dagashi Kashi, Clannad

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with-a-song-of-pure-romance · 4 years

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She Had The World Analysis

Warnings: Ryden (Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie), Keltie Colleen, cheating, themes of a toxic relationship

Summary:

She Had the World is a melancholy song about Ryan not being in love with Keltie, even if he tries or pretends to be

Ryan possibly changes perspectives in the chorus to Keltie, although he could still be writing from his own perspective. I discuss both possibilities in this analysis

However, Ryan definitely does change perspectives in verse 2 to the person he is cheating with, who I believe is Brendon.

Overall, She Had the World is a sad but brilliant song, even if my analysis’ relation the real world is completely incorrect.

She Had the World is one of my favourite songs on Pretty. Odd.. It is a poetic yet melancholy and wistful tune which is simply beautiful, but it was never performed on stage. However, if one looks at the lyrics and connects it to Ryan’s personal life, then one can definitely see why. Hence, here is an analysis of She Had the World, our favourite anti-love song.

Firstly, a little disclaimer before I begin. I do not “own” or know Ryan Ross, Keltie Knight and/or Brendon Urie. I do not know them personally, nor have I even had a simple chat with them or even just hugged them and got their autograph. I am a fan writing for other fans, I do not ever mean to be disrespectful. I am aware that I am talking about real people and their actual lives but I would like to remind the reader that there is a high chance that none of this is true. I don’t know half the story. Also, I would also like to say that I am indeed a shipper of Ryden, and by that I mean that I believe that there was a relationship between them from 2005-2009. With Brendon married and with them not interacting, it is pretty safe to say that Ryden is no longer real and I do believe that anyone who asks them about it to their faces is simply just sick. However, this analysis will contain hints of Ryden. With that in mind, let this begin.

There are two stories which could be told here. The first, and the more popular, possible theory, is that this song is primarily from Ryan’s point of view until after the first bridge, shifting again to Brendon’s view and then to Ryan’s view again when the bridge comes. However, the second possible theory is that it is Ryan’s point of view until the bridge, which is Keltie’s view, and then goes to Brendon’s view and then to Keltie’s view again when the bridge comes. I will be exploring both possible theories in this analysis, and you can choose to believe and follow however you would like.

The song opens with the iconic “she held the world upon a string but she didn’t ever hold me”. This is stating that she had "the world" but she didn’t have Ryan. Pretty simple. Keltie was a dancer at the Rockettes at the time, a highly popular dance troupe that often had booked-out seats. She may have encapsulated the world, the audience, but she did not have Ryan.

The song continues, and further proves to emphasise this point, with the cocky “spun the stars on her fingernails but it never made her happy ‘cause she couldn’t ever have me”. On Ryan’s part, this line is a little conceited. This is implying that no matter what Keltie did she was not happy since she did not have Ryan. Basically Lying is the Most Fun vibes here - Ryan believing that he was the only thing making her happy. Of course, these lines are probably a simplification of the truth, so Ryan might have not believed that, but basically that vibe.

Again, Ryan continues to state the same things, saying “she said she won the world at a carnival but she couldn’t ever win me ‘cause she couldn’t ever catch me”. Here he states that she “won” popularity while performing at the Rockettes, as well as love from the press from dating a member and main lyricist from Panic! At the Disco, but yet she did not manage to actually win Ryan and make him love her. Essentially, the same message from literally all the previous lines. This line also interesting uses “catch me” as a metaphor for all the fish in the sea which is often a common expression for the amount of people you can date. The following lines can imply several things. "I, I know why - because when I look in her eyes, I just see the sky. When I look in her eyes, I just see the sky” has seen several different interpretations from different theorists, but here’s my takes on the matter. "Just seeing the sky” can possibly imply that Ryan is lost in his daydreams and he is constantly daydreaming and drifting off when spending time with Keltie. It could also imply that Keltie is lost in the daydream that Ryan loves her. The third theory for what this could mean is a bit of a stretch, but this line could be relevant to the sun/moon therapy. Bringing Ryden into this, Ryan cannot “see" Keltie because he is so in love with Brendon, the sun (which is in the sky), and he can only think about him even when spending time alone with Keltie. Nevertheless, whatever you choose to believe basically states the same thing - that Ryan really does not love Keltie.

And now for some of my favourite few lines of song of all time.

As I have addressed, I have two theories for how this can be interpreted. One is that this is simply Ryan writing from Ryan’s view. Simple and what most people believe. The other theory I have is that this is Ryan writing from Keltie’s view. The following will be analysing both of these theories and frankly, I do not care enough to strongly believe in one of them. I am simply stating my possible explanations for these lines and you can choose to agree or disagree.

We can see an immediate change in mood with "I don’t love you, I’m just passing the time”, the narrator directly speaking to the listener and expressing their thoughts. If you believe this is from Ryan’s view, this is stating exactly what he has been stating for the past few lines - that he does not truly love Keltie and he is merely passing the time. This can mean three things. One, he wants someone to love and maybe superficially, someone to have sex with, but does not care about Keltie herself. Two, this could mean that he is bored and just wants to do something, and quite literally does Keltie. Three, the Ryden explanation, is that he is simply passing the time with her till he spends time with Brendon who he truly loves. However, if you believe that this is from Keltie’s point of view (or Ryan writing from Keltie’s point of view), this is a response to the previous verses with Keltie is trying to bite back at Ryan’s confessions that he does not love her. She is stating that she, also, does not love Ryan, and that she is simply passing the time. Keltie got with Ryan after a breakup, and possibly still loved her previous lover, so she is just passing the time - Ryan is acting as a filler before she gets back with him. She could also possibly be passing the time between her time on the Rockettes, which I mentioned before.

The narrator, whoever it is, goes on, and says that “you could love me if I knew how to lie”. From Ryan’s view, like it blatantly suggests, it is saying that Keltie could love Ryan if he could pretend. This, interestingly enough, implies that Keltie also does not love him, which Ryan appears to be aware of. This could be saying that he doesn’t care enough to pretend that he loves her, or that he is bad at lying and cannot do it, which he implies when stating “I knew how”. From Keltie’s view, she is defending herself as to why Ryan does not love her, saying that she does not care enough to actually pretend or, like I stated above, that she is bad at lying and cannot do it. Remember that this is Ryan writing from Keltie’s perspective (if he is writing from her perspective), so he is perhaps taking a jab at her saying that she is bad at lying and he can tell that she is. Both imply that Ryan has some self-awareness that his girlfriend does not love him which he can tell from her bad lying.

And now for my favourite line of all time - “but who could love me? I am out of mind”. From Ryan’s view, he is stating that he is out of his mind and no one could ever love him. He is making a self deprecating comment like one does and again, implying that Keltie does not actually love him. From Keltie’s view, or as it is important to remember, Ryan writing from Keltie’s view, is that this is Ryan subtly insulting Keltie, saying that no one will ever love her as she is out of her mind. No deep explanation, just Ryan being mean to Keltie if it is written from her perspective.

The non-lover laments on, saying that they are “throwing a line out to sea to see if I can catch a dream”. This is the return of the fish analogy as referenced before with “catch me”. If you believe that this is Ryan writing from his own view, he is possibly talking about his cheating here, whether you believe it is just the waitress or the waitress and Brendon if you do ship Ryden. He is saying that he is going around and trying to find people that can love him and that he can love back. He is trying to find a “dream”, his soulmate and his ideal partner. However, if you believe that this is Ryan writing from Keltie’s view, I believe it is more likely to mean that her love for Ryan is her throwing a line out to sea to see if he can love her. This could possibly imply for Ryan as well, but he seems to not even care to see if Keltie is a “dream” so I find it unlikely and I think the explanations are both fit.

And we find a change of perspective as it returns to the previous tune before the bridge. It opens with “the sun was always in her eyes; she didn’t even see me”. Now, before I begin the actual analysis, let me provide an explanation which states how I believe this applies to Brendon. Now, I am a Ryden shipper, so if you don’t ship it you don’t have to listen to me, but you can read on if you want. Whether you think that the previous lines was all Ryan or Ryan then Keltie, this is definitely another perspective - without argument. This is not the girl in the relationship who Ryan does not love, nor can it be the guy itself as this mysterious new narrator references both. However, this is clearly not just some onlooker. No, this has to be the person Ryan is cheating on.

Reportedly, he has only cheated on her with a waitress. However, this could simply not be her. This line states that the sun (who is a person) is ALWAYS in her eyes, meaning that she sees this person very often. But who could it be? Who else is known as the sun who Keltie always sees - oh wait, Brendon. Yas, this is yet another sun/moon reference. These two lines following after each other is very much stating that the “me” is the sun. Additionally, the use of “even” is basically a confirmation that the sun is a person. If the literal sun was in her eyes and she just didn’t see them, that would simply be because "the sun was in her eyes and she didn’t see me". But the “even” is like a “Come on, I am right here and you didn’t even see me”. He was always there, around Ryan and very close to Ryan, yet Keltie did not even see him as a threat. Or rather, Ryan believes that Keltie does not see Brendon as a threat due to how she acts - they could be less subtle then they believe they are.

The “mysterious” narrator, or Brendon, continues, saying "that girl had so much love - she’d want to kiss you all the time. Yeah, she’d want to kiss you all the time.”. This serves as a confirmation that this is another person, not the girl or the boy in this toxic relationship where no one loves each other, as this references both Ryan and Keltie as separate people. Brendon’s point of view, which may have been expressed by Brendon or may be Ryan writing from Brendon’s perspective and is comforting himself, is that yeah, he agrees that this girl loves him (despite what the bridge implies) and that she wants to kiss him all the time. Stating it twice may also imply some kind of annoyance with that fact. Repeating from before, Brendon (or whoever you may think it is) says “she said she won the world at a carnival”, but then the lyrics change, saying that “but I’m sure I didn’t ruin her - just made her more interesting”. This is the person who Ryan is cheating with assuring themself that they didn’t ruin her love just made it, you know, more interesting. Or rather than talking about Keltie herself, this could be addressing the relationship as a “her” and saying that it didn’t ruin the relationship, just made it more interesting. Since it is noted as Ryan writing this, not Ryan and Brendon co-writing this, this could also just be Ryan writing from Brendon’s POV and assuring himself he didn’t mess anything up. They reassure themselves again saying “sure I didn’t ruin her - just made her more interesting”. Now, this narrator, or Brendon, repeats the same lines from before - "I, I know why - because when I look in her eyes, I just see the sky. When I look in her eyes, I just see the sky” which is basically an agreement with Ryan. Either Brendon is in a daydream, or she is in a daydream, or he cannot stop thinking of Ryan. Like I said for this analysis before, you can choose one of them and it will tell you the same thing - that this person agrees with Ryan and that Ryan honestly does not love her.

The bridge repeats again, but I have already done analysis on that (apologies for the rambling), but either than that, that is basically She Had the World. Funny how Ryan called it lighthearted in the track-by-track review, but after looking at it carefully we can see that it is anything but lighthearted, containing themes of a toxic relationship which was actually occurring during the writing of this song. They never did perform this, and perhaps this was the reason - singing every night about a girlfriend you still have who you do not love is quite a personal thing and something I would not opt for.

I find it important to state again, like I did at the beginning of this, that this is just a theory about a relationship now long-lost and gone. There is a high chance that absolutely none of this is true - I am not Ryan Ross, and I most definitely did not write She Had the World. I was never in a relationship with Keltie Knight, and I am merely a fan looking at these lyrics. If you (Ryan, Keltie, Brendon) are reading my rambling for some reason and you find it invasive and disrespectful, please DM me or something and I will take it down without hesitation. I write this as respectfully as I can, remembering that I am just an onlooker who honestly has no idea about other people’s lives, especially the lives of people I will never meet.

Anyway, thank you for reading my analysis of She Had the World, and please like and reblog to share! Much love <3

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violetsmoak · 4 years

Text

Philtatos [13/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101543/chapters/47690671

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: During a patrol where Red Hood and Red Robin cross paths, Jason is infected with the blood of the Eros, the ancient God of Love, who informs them that they must track down his missing bow and arrows, or Jason will go slowly mad with an obsessive desire–for Tim. Though overwhelmed by the sudden attention being paid to him, Tim sets to work trying to solve the case, before Jason succumbs to madness. In the meantime, Jason discovers that there’s more than godlike powers at work here, as well as a legacy that reaches back through the sands of time.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Beta Reader: None at the moment.

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #fatal flaw #secrets #riddle #fate #revenge #oracle #betrayal #prophecy #jealousy

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

Tim feels a little bad about using Jason’s skin hunger against him but only for a moment. Any concern about that vanishes when he peeks back at Jason as they walk, and observes the color returning to the other man’s cheeks. The hand clasped in his own stops shaking the longer they touch.

Tim has never been one to enjoy holding hands—often he’s felt uncomfortable or self-conscious, worrying about sweaty fingers or whether the other person might consider it lame—but this doesn’t feel like that.

This feels right.

It’s actually concerning how right it feels, especially in light of his recent discussion with Steph.

Stop it. This isn’t about you. It’s about putting Jason at ease.

They return to the containment unit to find Barbara facing down Eros—an impressive feat considering she’s in a wheelchair and he’s the one looking down on her. Her face is drawn in irritation, and he’s gratified to see that Eros seems put-out about something.

“Took you long enough. Cherry here says she’s got a bonafide prophecy from the Oracle of Delphi and wouldn’t share it until you got back.” He eyes their entwined hands and leers. “I take it the domestics are going well?”

“Get bent,” Tim snaps in irritation as Jason tugs his hand back so fast he might as well have been burned.

“Only if you do the honors, pretty boy.”

Jason growls and makes a move for his gun, but Tim reaches out to stop him.

“Can you not tease him?” he demands of Eros. “Especially when the only reason he’s like this is because of you.”

“Oh, if only you knew…”

Before Tim can comment on that, Jason interrupts.

“What’s the feathered freak talkin’ about?” he snaps, radiating tension. “What prophecy?”

“The one Signal was able to recover from the girl that was killed,” Barbara says coolly. “He transcribed it and sent it along. Do you want to hear it, or do you want to keep acting like a child?”

This she directs at Eros, who actually does look chastised a beat, before gracing her with a cool smile.

“I guess it is apropos if you do the honors, darlin’,” Eros says with a cool smile. “Is it ironic or coincidental if someone who stole the title of oracle interprets a prophecy from the actual Oracle of Delphi?”

“Who cares? This whole situation is making me hate both irony and coincidence,” Tim says.

“It’s making me wonder if there are any coincidences,” Jason mutters, eyes fixed on Eros in intense dislike.

Barbara offers him an identical look, before thumbing the screen of her phone and opening her incoming messages.

Then she begins to read:

“The Unseen darkness cannot keep its captive thrice for mortal masks the divine that seeks its reward in the city where dark nights conceal the greatest of secrets.

“Crossed beneath the stars when the Rager’s Moon is full, eternal freedom is neigh upon the eleventh moment of the small hour.The sacrifice of the virgin gifts triumph to the prisoner and that which drowned in Lethe’s tears is reborn.

“But take heed, for the winged scion of Cythera, willingly blinded by the veil of vengeance revealed by Discord’s most cursed boon, awakens the warrior guided by the Physicians heir.

“Fury dooms the fair, heralding the return of magnificent Alexandros and one whose name is painted in blood and stone.

“Greatest of loves, damned by the gleam of a golden barb, torn asunder by jealousy and parted by cruel death, they will stand against Strife.

“Titans will rise and one who Death names hero, betrayed yet shielded by love, will sunder the chains of Aidoneus and avenge the victim of grievance. One will be born anew, the other bound eternally to Stygian Darkness.”

There is silence as she puts the phone down, eyebrows drawn together in thought.

“What?” Tim says.

“I see your ‘what’ and raise you a ‘the fuck’,” Jason adds. “Does any of that make sense to anyone else? Because it don't make sense to me.”

“Blame my uncle,” Eros says, apparently annoyed.

“What? Why?” Tim wants to know. “Which one’s he?”

“Apollo,” Barbara says, still considering the puzzling words on the screen. “Aside from being a sun god, he was also the god of prophecy.”

“Talking in riddles is his favorite pastime,” Eros agrees. “It’s a pain in the ass.”

“I’ll bet,” Tim agrees. “We’ve got someone like that here in Gotham.”

“Yeah, and he’s a frequent guest of Arkham, so what’s that tell you?” Jason grumbles.

“That people who come up with riddles have too much time on their hands.”

“There’s a reason the Oracles of Delphi didn’t put their predictions into simple words,” Barbara points out. ”If you give people information about what’s coming, how do you know you’re not ensuring it will or won’t come to pass? It was important for them to be seen as the medium of the message and not an agent.

“By keeping information vague, it would seem like they were allowing a querant the chance to defy fate, while at the same time allowing fate to take its natural course, whatever that might be,” Eros agrees. “Ans it was good insurance. Even Oracles needed to cover their asses. You were less likely to get your head lopped off by a visiting king that received news he didn’t want to hear. And whatever the outcome, they could still say, ‘we told you so’.” He considers Barbara. “You know, I don’t usually find brainy sexy, but you might just turn me.”

“I’m thrilled,” she deadpans.

“So what’s all this supposed to mean, anyway?” Tim asks, trying to bring the discussion back to the matter at hand.

“It could mean anything. Though to start with, that bit about ‘unseen darkness’, that’s an epithet for the Underworld in old Hellenic documents.”

“We called it that in the old days,” Eros confirms.

“And then there’s the part about someone captive in Hades.”

“I thought Hades was a person?” Tim says.

“It is. But it’s also a place.” Jason tells him.

“It depends on what story and what source you’re drawing from,” Barbara elaborates. “And what translation.”

“What about the next bit? About mortal maskin' the divine?”

“Could that mean whoever’s possessing Carrie Cutter?” Tim suggests. “We’ve already established she’s got help from a god, and if they’re inhabiting her body even for short amounts of time, it’s a pretty effective mask.”

“No doubt,” Eros agrees. “Not so sure about that part with dark nights, but I guess it’s referring to this cesspool you people call a city.”

Tim, Jason and Barbara exchange glances, knowing exactly how dark nights and secrets relate to their city.

Maybe Duke misheard. It might not be dark ‘nights’ so much as dark ‘knights’. Which makes sense, considering Bruce and Dick both have that title depending on the day.

“Safe to say it’s Gotham,” Tim confirms. “So all that begs the question, do you have any idea who’s locked in the Underworld trying to get out?”

Eros snorts. “The better question is who isn’t locked in the Underworld.”

Jason is glaring furiously at Eros, clearly growing tired of his evasive and snarky answers. The way his fists clench, Tim suspects he’s close to throwing a punch at the glass in frustration. Not something Tim wants to see, especially given Jason’s injuries from their altercation with Carrie Cutter and Dick haven’t even been seen to yet.

God, it feels like it was days ago but it was only hours. He probably came right here to confront Eros without even looking after himself.

He has to put that out of his mind for now. Deciphering any clues in the prophecy takes momentary precedence.

“…. A lot of myths end with someone displeasing a god and getting sent to Tartarus, so he has a point,” Barbara is saying, her thumbs busily texting something on her phone.

“So that’s not going to tell us anything,” Tim decides. “What about the ‘crossed beneath the stars’ part?”

“More of the same in terms of pinpointing when everything is supposed to happen,” Eros says.

“Which is when?”

“November twenty-third,” Barbara says, frowning at the small screen in her hand.

Jason looks askance. “How d’you know?”

“'Moon’ equates to month, and another name for Zeus was the Rager,” she replies. “So, Zeus’s month. According to the Athenian calendars we still have access to, Zeus’s month was Maimakterion—which in modern times would fall somewhere between November and December. And the next full moon—” She holds up her phone, showing a lunar calendar for the month, “—falls on November twenty-third. It’s the only full moon that falls during Maimakterion.”

Eros nods along in approval. “What she said.”

“And the small hour?”

“Midnight.”

“So, whatever’s supposed to happen is going to happen eleven minutes after midnight…assuming that’s what moment means,” Tim muses, glancing at his own phone calendar. “That’s this Friday.”

“Five days from now,” Jason agrees, and side-eyes Tim. “We’ve all had shorter deadlines.”

“That’s not necessarily referring to your deadline, sweet cheeks,” Eros reminds him. “I figure you have about half that.”

“No thanks to you.”

“You know, the last Jason I knew wasn’t this whiny.”

“Children,” Barbara says sharply. “Let’s stay focused, shall we? I’m concerned about this virgin sacrifice part—specifically the part where it ensures success for someone we probably don’t want to succeed.”

“Cutter did kill that girl,” Tim reminds them. “Maybe it was some kind of offering, so she’d be successful at whatever she’s trying to do.”

“It’s a good an explanation as anything else,” Eros agrees, examining his nails. “We always did love our human sacrifices. And a virgin does increase the likelihood of something working out to your advantage.”

“You’re a piece of shit,” Jason growls. “That’s a kid you’re talking about!”

“And as an Oracle of Delphi she’s entitled to an eternity of bliss once she enters the Underworld,” Eros dismisses. “It’s a better end than some people are entitled to.”

Jason’s eyes blaze as if that’s a personal insult. Tim can certainly empathize.

“What about the second part?” he prompts. “What’s Lethe?”

“The Lethe was the river the souls drank from to forget their previous lives before being reincarnated,” Barbara explains.

“The Ancient Greeks believed in reincarnation? But I thought that was something from the Far East?”

“Many ancient cultures had a concept of reincarnation beyond the Hindu and Buddhist mythos,” Barbara explains. “Just look at the belief systems of the indigenous peoples of North America and you’ll see countless examples. And they didn’t have any contact with the civilizations of Asia during the time when those faiths were evolving.”

Beside Tim, Jason is as stiff as a board and appears to be having trouble breathing. Automatically, Tim edges closer to him, and though he doesn’t outright take his hand—he leans into him, nudging him with his shoulder.

Jason’s eyes dart to him for a moment, and he relaxes incrementally.

“How does that relate here though?” Barbara wants to know.

“Maybe the prisoner forgot something,” Eros suggests, not sounding very interested.

“Or maybe whoever’s tryin' to escape Hades as made to forget something,” Jason counters darkly.

“Only mortals can be made to forget by drinking from the Lethe,” Barbara says. “The prisoner could have been human. Salmoneus or Tantalus or one of the Dainads.”

Tim doesn’t even get a chance to question who they are before Eros interrupts. “Actually, it’s a little broader than just mortals. More like mortals, demigods that haven’t consumed ambrosia, giants, hybrids—”

“So again, we’re back to a broad spectrum of people it could be talkin' about,” Jason complains. “Great. Is there anyone or anything in this stupid prophecy that isn’t doublespeak?”

“Well, the next verse is pretty self-explanatory. Obviously, we’re talking about yours truly,” Eros says, pointing at himself. “What other 'winged son' do you know from mythology?”

“A case could be made for Pegasus.”

“No, it’s Eros,” Tim says. “Cythera’s another name for Aphrodite.” Everyone looks at him in surprise.

“How do you know that?” Jason asks, but where the emphasis ought to suggest incredulity, he sounds impressed.

Tim tries not to bask in that.

“My parents used to visit the island of Cythera a lot when they weren’t on business trips, especially before I was born. It was their favorite vacation destination. Full of history, not touristy—they didn’t like having to socialize with people when they were on vacation.”

Tim falls silent then, remembering sitting in his living room with his parents, pouring over their vacation photos of the Mediterranean island while they told stories. They’d always promised to take him one day…

He glances up and notices the others are watching him now—Eros with a sharp, calculating gaze while Jason appears concerned. As for Barbara, she seems to sense his discomfort, because she navigates them past the lull. “Okay, so if it’s Eros, what are you wanting revenge for? It’s not exactly your M-O.”

“I can think of a few people who have it coming,” Eros answers. “Starting with my mother.”

“What’d she do?” Tim asks.

“Do you have a few centuries worth of couch time?”

“Isn’t she the reason your wife died?” Barbara wants to know. “In the myth, she survived, but Tim told me that's not what happened in reality.”

Eros expression goes cold.

“That’s right,” Tim remembers; he and Eros had this conversation a few days ago, didn’t they? “Aphrodite is the one who sent Psyche to the underworld.”

Eros bares his teeth. “One of her many sins, but not the only one.”

“Then couldn’t the prophecy maybe be referring to her? Psyche, I mean? Maybe she’s the prisoner.”

“Are you implying my wife is the one behind your Cupid’s actions?” Eros growls. “Because that’s impossible.”

“How would you know? It could be—”

“Because she died a mortal! Her soul is mortal and wouldn’t have the power to escape the Underworld in any capacity! Furthermore, Psyche would never kill or arrange the death of anyone! She was good and pure of soul and that’s why I fell in love with her.”

“That’s not what I read,” Barbra says. “Didn’t you prick yourself on one of your golden arrows while watching her?”

“I pricked myself because I fell in love with her,” he snaps. “I’ve already told Jason here that the arrows only work to magnify emotions that are already there.”

“That makes no sense. You liked her before you made yourself fall in love with her?”

“Look, you know the story: Psyche was beautiful. So much so, that the idiots in her kingdom started treating her like a living goddess, bringing the gifts meant for my mother to this human princess. You can guess how well that went over.”

“Right. She sent you to make her fall in love with a horrible beast.”

“Yeah, one of Diomedes mares. Gorgeous animals—people would stop and stare at them for hours. Also, vicious, flesh-eating beasts. Just getting to close to one of those and it would have ripped her to shreds—and she would have stood there and let it.” Eros’ expression becomes soft, eyes faraway at the memory. “If she had been some arrogant, selfish royal I would have let it happen. But I watched her for days while I tried to put her in the path of that thing. And everything she did was just good and kind. I had never seen as pure a soul like hers.” He shakes his head. “The idea of a girl like that being sent to her death just because a bunch of idiot humans had the audacity to praise her alongside my mother didn’t seem fair.”

“And you’re all about fair, aren’t you?” Jason sneers.

Tim has to agree; if Eros cared about fair, he would have been a lot more helpful about curing Jason and wouldn’t have demanded they find his diviners beforehand.

“I was young and stupid, and I didn’t realize the world didn’t work that way,” Eros dismisses. “Even for gods. I thought my mother would never want to harm me—and so if I put Psyche under my protection, she couldn’t hurt her. And if I could show my mother what a good wife Psyche was, even if she was unable to see me, it would prove the point.” He snorts. “It didn’t exactly go my way.”

“And there’s no way her soul could have somehow been corrupted when she died?”

“The Underworld is stagnant. There’s no such thing as change or time there. Everything occurs both in one moment and in all moments there.”

“So you’re saying a soul going in would remain in the same state as it was when it died,” Barbara posits.

“Exactly. How else do you expect the judges to judge souls if they kept changing after death? It’d be a headache.

“Then if it’s not Psyche, who else can you think of that it might be?”

“It might be more than one person,” Tim suggests. “That line about 'greatest of loves'—what if that’s why Carrie’s been targeting couples? She hears the prophecy—or whoever’s riding along inside her hears the prophecy—and thinks there’s a couple out there that’s going to stand against her. She could be trying to eliminate potential threats to her end goal.”

“If so, we need to decipher her criteria for choosing her victims. You already said it didn’t seem like they had anything in common.”

“We’ll have to check again. Maybe now that we’ve got this prophecy, something new will jump out.”

“We skipped a whole verse,” Jason points out. “The ‘warrior guided by the physician’s heir’. Any ideas?”

Eros shrugs. “Since the rest of the prophecy involves me, I’d say it’s me.”

“How do you figure?”

“The Physician is another name for Apollo.”

“So?”

“So, who do you think taught me archery? Next to him, I’m the greatest archer among the Olympians.”

“Or it could be Jason,” Tim ponders.

Jason seems to go pale, almost panicked. “What?”

“I mean, assuming you’re interpreting ‘awaken’ by activating the way you do with a sleeper agent. You infected him with your blood however accidentally and then pressed him into doing your dirty work.”

“I resent your tone, boy,” Eros grumbles, but Jason interjects, “And the other bit?”

“The other bit is just really literal,” Barbara catches on. “Jason, you were trained by Batman. Who was the heir to an actual physician. The M.D. kind.”

Thomas Wayne.

Jason looks like he doesn’t know what to do with that information. “Shit.”

Eros watches Jason, inscrutable eyes considering; Jason glares back at him as if waiting for him to make a comment.

“But if it’s Jason, the next bit wouldn’t make sense,” Barbara says after a moment. “‘Magnificent Alexandros’. The only Alexandros I can think of off the top of my head if Alexander of Macedon. But that doesn’t really track with the rest of the verse. He was a historical figure, not mythological.”

“That’s offensive, you know,” Eros drawls. “All those stories you call mythology actually happened.”

“Then why don’t we have an archaeological record for them?”

“Because screw you, that’s why.”

“If it is talking about Alexander the Great, Robin will be happy,” Tim says with a rueful smirk.

Jason is perplexed. “Why?”

“Apparently he was on the list of the kid’s League-approved childhood heroes. Mother-son bonding time seems to have included traveling in his footsteps as preparation for world domination.”

Jason looks surprised and amused. “Really?”

“Is it that surprising?”

“No, it’s just…” Jason shakes his head. “Never mind.” He clears his throat. “So, back to the prophecy. It talks about the Titans—are we talkin' the creatures the Olympian gods overthrew?”

“Well, whenever one of us mention the Titans, it is usually those bottom feeders rotting in Tartarus, yes,” Eros says dryly, inscrutable focussed on Jason. “Them going free is never a good thing. Don’t believe me, read the Titanomachy. Hesiod got it pretty close to right.”

“Could be the goal, could be the result,” Tim suggests.

“Which brings us back to possibly being on the lookout for more than one prisoner escaping Hades,” Barbara says.

“And all of that leads us to the typical ‘one shall live and one shall die’ device,” Eros concludes.

“Only we don’t know who either of those is.”

“I can tell you now if it’s a prophecy involving me, I have no intention of dying."

“If it’s even about you. It’s not really an exact science, interpreting this sort of thing,” Barbara warns. “Even an Olympian like you can misunderstand—there’s evidence of that in the myths. In fact, I’m sure we’re missing more than is good for us. It will take some time to decipher it and we need more information.”

“At least we have something,” Tim maintains. “The exact date when it’s going to happen and where. We can begin preparing for that.”

“It’s a whole hell of a lot to think about,” Jason agrees.

“Which you can do back at the Cave. We only came here to see if Eros could shed some light on the prophecy or see the arrows.”

“What arrows?”

“Wonder Girl told us that to reverse what’s been done to Nightwing is to remove the arrow that Carrie stabbed him with.”

“Uh, there is no arrow,” Jason says. “Cupid took it with her, remember?”

“I guess that answers that question,” Barbara sighs. “You can’t see them.”

“Of course he can’t,” Eros says. “I’m the only one that can see the wounds caused by my arrows. Even this pseudo-Cupid wouldn’t be able to see them.”

“After she stabbed Jason she seemed to be looking for something, so I’m not sure about that,” Tim argues.

“She can’t see them. Though it may be possible her divine passenger might. I don't know. Never had another god take my diviners before."

“Speaking of being stabbed,” Tim goes on, nodding at the bruises coming out on his face. There are likely more hidden by the leather jacket and gear. “You should get those looked at.”

“I didn’t physically get stabbed, you know. Magic wounds don’t need to be looked at.”

“You went toe-to-toe with an enhanced fighter and Batman. You could have internal bleeding for all we know.”

“If you think a little tussle with that dick is going to do lastin' damage—”

Tim cuts off his indignation. “I don’t, but you haven’t been eating or sleeping properly, and your system is already compromised, so how do you know what damage was or wasn’t done? You didn’t stay to get treated at the Cave.”

Their eyes meet, remembering exactly why that is, and Tim’s cheeks darken. Jason is the first to look away, though.

“It’s nothin'. I can patch myself up whenever.”

“I can help—”

“I’m good.”

“Jason—”

“I’m an adult and I’ve been treatin' myself without help for years now,” Jason interrupts tensely. When Tim can’t stop himself from flinching, Jason’s eyes flash with dismay. “I mean…” He flounders like he’s trying to take it back, and instead changes the subject. “Didn’t you say somethin' about a list? Maybe get started on that and I’ll do an injury check myself.”

It’s a clear cop-out, and if they were alone, Tim would be calling him on it.

“I’ll ask for help if I need any,” he adds, awkwardly, like it’s been a long time since anyone actually cared about his injuries being treated.

Barbara glances between the two of them, obviously sensing the undertone, but not commenting on it. Instead, she says, “I don’t mind helping Jason. Besides, Red Robin needs to contact the Family and let them know what we know.”

“And I need food,” Eros says. “I haven’t eaten since before you went on your little reconnaissance mission. Can’t you see? I’m wasting away.”

“If only,” Jason mutters.

Tim is torn, wanting to argue that he can help Jason, but at the same time trying to respect the other man’s obvious need for distance.

At last, he nods.

“Okay,” he says, feeling a little defeated. “Let’s take a break. I’ll make a food run…you get yourself fixed up.”

“Whatever you say, babybird.”

⁂

Once Tim vanishes, Barbie indicates with a jerk of her head that Jason should follow her upstairs to the Nest medbay. He knows better than to think it’s just her wanting to take a look at his injuries—like him, she’s probably looking for some privacy.

They take the elevator up in silence, and Jason wonders vaguely when the last time was, he was this close to Barbara Gordon.

I don’t think I have been, actually. We both avoid the manor unless there’s no choice. And we both have good reasons for it. And when we are there together, there’s usually about six to ten feet of distance between us.

They were never what he would call close before she was paralyzed and he died. Barbie was Dick’s girl and Jason’s occasional babysitter until the Joker ruined her life. And then she wasn’t around at all. Jason wasn’t alive to watch her painstakingly drag herself up and pull it together again, so he never got the chance to interact with the Barbara Gordon that became Oracle.

Since returning to Gotham he’s kept her at a distance as much as he did the rest of the Family, so it’s somewhat surprising to him that she’s here now and working to help him.

Probably it’s on account of Tim.

Still silent, they enter the surgically pristine room of the Nest’s medical wing—and Jason is a little jealous of the supplies here. It makes the kits he has in his safehouses about as sophisticated as a needle and threat.

Barbie watches him, framed in the doorway.

“Well? Spit it out,” he grunts, deciding to get whatever reprimands are forthcoming out of the way.

Her look turns sharp before she reaches into her jacket pocket for something; Jason can’t help tensing up, even though she knows the likelihood of her pulling a weapon on him are slim to none.

That suspicion is confirmed when she instead draws out a device and turns it on; there’s a high-pitched background whir that Jason recognizes as a listening device scrambler.

Clearly we’re both aware of what a paranoid freak Timbers can be.

“Okay, Jason, what’s going on?” she asks without preamble. “You know Tim only wants to help you.”

“Yeah, at his own expense,” he retorts sourly.

Barbies raises an eyebrow as if waiting for him to continue, and when he doesn’t, she presses, “You’re being cagey. And it’s more than just worrying about losing control around Tim, I can tell.”

“Oh you can, can you?” he challenges.

“I’ve known you since you were still desperately trying to live up to Dick while pretending like you didn’t care. I know when you’re hiding something,” she folds her arms. “Believe it or not, Jason, you’re a terrible liar when it comes to things that matter.”

It’s reflex to want to say something caustic to that, but he stops himself in time. He needs Barbara’s help and pissing her off isn’t going to make his life any easier.

“I need a favor,” he admits after a beat.

“Another one?” she repeats, sounding like she doesn’t believe him. “You’re going to owe me a lot.”

“Yeah, well, now would be the time to collect on those debts while I still can.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means everyone else is tiptoein' around the subject, but at some point, I’m gonna need to be put under,” he says, erring on the side of just enough truth to keep her from questioning him further. “We both know what I’m talkin' about here.”

As expected, Barbara only just keeps herself from visibly recoiling; she’s already ready with an argument. “You don’t know we won’t find something before that happens.”

“I’m already feelin' like I’m livin' in someone else’s skin—” Literally, in a way. “—I’m not gonna get any better than I am right now. We’ve already seen what it looks like when I dip toward worse. So while I’m still lucid, let me make my decisions. And my decision is, I’d rather go under while I’m still me instead of violent, mindless…reaver.”

Barbara does a minor double-take. “Did you just make a Firefly reference?”

“It’s the last series I was watching before I died,” Jason says, a little defensive.

“I’m not judging, just surprised. Dick and Tim are usually the ones making pop-culture references to deflect. I’m not used to it from you.”

“And I’m not used to you stallin',” he counters. “You’re different from the other Bats, O. You know how to cut your losses, and you know how to make decisions when no one else wants to think about it. You get makin' the hard calls. So, I’m gonna ask you: when it comes down to a choice between me and Tim—and I mean when, not if—who do you save?”

Something like pain passes over her face, and then resolve hardens her face. “Tim.”

“Exactly,” he approves. “Because unlike me, he’s good. And smart.”

“You’re both of those things, even if you pretend like you’re not,” she protests.

“And he hasn’t committed multiple murders,” Jason continues, acting like he didn’t hear her. “Not that what I’ve done wasn’t justified. It wasn’t good, but I don’t regret it because I will go to my grave believin' sometimes that line needs to be crossed. Again. But it’s still a line Tim’s been lucky enough not to have to cross.”

She doesn’t argue with him, instead inclines her head.

“More people will miss him if he were gone then they would me,” Jason concludes. “I’m not supposed to be here anyway.”

There’s a long beat of measuring silence. Then, Barbara sighs. “What is it you need, Jason?”

He tilts his chin in gratitude.

“I didn’t just come here to yell at Eros,” he admits. “If Wonder Woman doesn’t show up, he’s the only one I know who has access to the stuff I need.”

“The Stygian Sleep.”

“Yeah. But it’s probably in GCPD lock-up.” He gives her a quick run-down of events, minus anything about Eros’ intentional plan to infect him. Babs listens, jaw set and eyes narrowed; given what she just said about him, she likely knows he’s not being completely truthful, but his explanation clearly holds enough water that she doesn’t call him on it.

“I’ll get someone to look into it,” she decides at last.

Which, even though he’s relieved about, he’s also suspicious.

“And by ‘look into’ you mean grab hold of and perform a million tests on it before handin' it over,” he posits.

“Just because you’re hellbent on using something that’s effectively going to kill you doesn’t mean I don’t want to know everything about it first,” she says, unapologetic. “Like the prophecy, it might have clues about how to circumvent it.”

“Yeah, because we’re having so much luck with that.”

“Also, when Bruce comes to me later in a righteous fury for letting his son die a second time, I’ll be able to assure him we knew everything we did about it before making an informed decision.”

Jason doesn’t pretend to believe that’s the end of it. Barbara might be willing to humor Jason a little more than Bruce, or even Dick when he’s not compromised—she might even be a little more objective in considering things, but she’s not going to trust Jason’s plan to be the only plan. She’ll have her own contingencies, the same as any Bat.

The only difference with Babs is that once it’s over and done with, and it becomes clear there’s no saving him, she’ll have an easier time getting over it than Bruce will. And she won’t let it compromise her work.

Tim’s told Jason what Bruce and Dick were like after he died the first time, and if it happens again, Gotham needs someone competent in keeping things in check.

And Tim…

Jason’s heart thuds with guilt.

This time, Tim won’t just be sweeping in to pick up the broken pieces of Batman and Nightwing as he did as a kid. He won’t be watching it from the sidelines.

The memory hits him then. To his surprise, it’s not from Achilleus or Alexandros.

Jason hates Wayne Charity galas.

People are always staring at him, murmuring through pasted-on smiles that even if he couldn’t read lips, he would be able to hear the judgment dripping from their words. These people are so achingly dry and genteel, their teeth don’t even unclench around their vowels.

Bruce doesn’t make him come to all that many of these shindigs, thankfully; only the ones involving children’s advocacy and the like. Jason doesn’t mind those too much, considering their purpose. He just hates that even at those—like the one tonight—he’s the only kid that has to parade around in the straitjacket Alfred calls a tux.

He gets it, of course; he’s the poster-boy, the success story, a means of showing the rich snobs how well a dirty Crime Alley orphan can clean up so that they’ll open their checkbooks.

It doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Except for tonight, for the first time, he noticed another kid that’s been dragged along. A tiny boy whose meticulously fitted tux still manages to look too big for him.

A man and woman who must be his parents are chatting with another couple, seemingly oblivious to the way their son is staring into the distance, a neutrally polite expression fixed on his face. He might as well be sleeping standing up, and Jason has the odd suspicion that’s by design.

That makes his mouth twitch; maybe rich kids get bored with this kind of thing too.

Jason keeps staring across the manor ballroom until the strange kid senses his gaze and looks up. He grins when the boy’s eyes widen—their color is startling, even from across the room, and they take up practically his whole face—and wonders at the sudden flood of color in his cheeks.

He’s about to motion the boy over to the edge of the reception area—hanging out with another kid, even a little one, will definitely break up the monotony of the evening—when Bruce’s hand falls hard on his shoulder.

“Time to make an exit, son,” he says, voice quiet and intense and incongruent with the false smile he’s still beaming at everyone within a ten-foot radius. From the distracted note in his words, Jason doesn’t even need to look out the window to see the signal lighting up the sky.

They meet Felipe Garzonas that night, and he doesn’t think of the boy again.

Jason shudders as the technicolor recollection fades out, his stomach twisting angrily.

He’s never made the connection between Tim and the boy at the fundraiser before. It occurs to him how stupid that was—at the same time it occurs to him that if not for that case that night, he might not have been on the outs with Bruce. He might have endured more Wayne event galas instead of limiting whatever time he was with Bruce to being Robin by night. He might have gotten to know Tim in this life, instead of dying.

He might not be in this damned predicament right now.

“Jason?”

He looks up, realizes that Barbie is watching him with concern. He is quick to revisit their conversation and mutters, “Yeah, fine. Just make sure the stuff actually makes it to me before my brain dribbles out of my head, okay?”

“Stop being so dramatic,” she replies, reaching out to turn off the scrambler device, though she continues to exude suspicion.

“All Bats are dramatic, or have you forgotten?” he quips back, offering an irreverent smirk to cover up.

“Hard to forget something you live with every day,” she returns dryly. “Now get over here and let me check you over.”

“You don’t need to,” he points out. “I’ve had worse than this, you know.”

“Yes, yes, we’re all aware you’ve died and come back, who hasn’t these days?” she returns. “Now, shirt off, or I’m telling Tim you didn’t do what you said you would.”

Jason glares. “This is going to become a thing, isn’t it? You people using Tim to make me do things.”

“Things that are for your own good, yes. Now strip, Todd.”

“Yes, mother…”

“You wish your mother was as cool as me.”

Which Jason can’t argue with, because she’s right; he’s had a total of three mother figures in his life (two of which he’s not sure even qualify because of how messed up they were), and none of them have been as capable or decent as Barbara Gordon.

Once he’s shrugged his top half out of the body armor and leather, she reaches for him.

Jason experiences a nauseous swoop in his stomach at the idea of anyone but Tim putting hands on him. Instantly, his hand snaps up and knocks hers back.

“Don’t touch me!” he snarls.

Barbara pulls away, watching him with a raised eyebrow and instantly Jason is overwhelmed with shame.

“Sorry,” he bites out. “I didn’t mean…”

“We can wait for Tim to get back,” she suggests, instantly understanding.

Alarms blare in his head at the thought; he shakes his head. “No. No, I’m…I’m good. Now that I’m expectin' it.”

She considers him several beats longer and then makes the next attempt to check his injuries. This time he concentrates on forcing the sick feeling away and tries to ignore how it feels like someone is rubbing sandpaper across his skin.

That’s a new symptom. Great. Because it wasn’t enough that I’ve been trying to claw my skin of myself, now other people get to do it too…

Barbara checks him over with quiet efficiency, evaluating the shallow slash between his arm and shoulder which his armor didn’t cover, as well the bruising along his hips, elbows and lower back.

“It could be worse,” she decides eventually, considering the mottled purpling across his chest. “Ribs are bruised, not broken.”

“I could've told you that…”

“And were you going to tell me about that?” she points at his shoulder and the spiderweb of gold leeching out around the long-healed-over bullet wound. From the way he’s been itching at it this past day, he doesn’t need a mirror to know it’s beginning to creep up his neck as well. “How long has it been growing like that?”

“Pretty much since I got it,” he replies.

She reaches up, brow furrowed and reaches toward one of the raised lines winding toward his chest. Again, he braces himself for the pain of the touch his body doesn’t want.

Thankfully, she barely grazes that. “You haven’t been keeping better track, have you? It might give us a more specific idea of how much time you have.”

“How so?”

“The same as any poison, I would guess. The closer it gets to your heart, the less time you have.”

He frowns. “At this point, I don’t think it even matters.”

Movement outside of the med bay window draws his attention, and he across the floor to see Tim climbing the stairs from the ground floor.

Jason is quick to grab his shirt and tug it on; it’s not something he wants to discuss with Tim just yet.

Barbara watches him, lips pursed in worry and disapproval, but he could care less about the latter. She knows his thoughts on this, and she’ll respect them.

Tim strides in and then slows like he’s wondering if he’s supposed to knock or not.

“How are you doing?” he asks, hesitant like he’s afraid expressing concern will set Jason off like a bomb.

Guilt hits him at that, but he forces himself to remain calm and blank-faced. “Fine.”

“I have to go,” Barbie announces, maneuvering her chair toward the door. “I need to go back to the Cave and check on Dick’s condition. I don’t know how long it will be before he tries to escape or pull something to keep from going nuts.”

“Also, it’d be nice if this month was one of the ones where Alfred doesn’t get knocked out,” Tim suggests with false levity.

“Or lose a hand,” Jason mutters darkly.

“Exactly. And whether he knows it or not, Feathers downstairs gave me some ideas about how to remove the arrow,” Barbie says as they leave the med bay.

“I should come with you.”

“No.” Both Barbara and Tim speak at the same time, but she’s the one that keeps talking. “You should stay here.”

“Not sure that’s the best idea.”

“I think it is,” Tim counters. “It will keep us out of everyone’s hair and they’ll know where we are.” His tone is reasonable—too reasonable; clearly Timmy has some ulterior motives.

Whether those motives are to circumvent Bruce or Jason’s plans, he doesn’t care. But one thing is for sure. “They can know where we are if we’re at the manor.”

And isn’t that a reversal—Jason being the one to insist on that?

I need to have people around because I don’t trust myself right now.

The mutinous expression is back on Tim’s face, before he visibly switches tactics.

“Okay, how about this,” he suggests, tone only a shade off exasperated. “Why don’t you go lie down somewhere and try to catch a few hours' sleep? If you’re sleeping, you’re not doing anything else, right? And then we’ll either go back to the Cave or see if anyone can be spared to chaperone here.”

“There’s no need for that,” a voice says, and they all look up to see Damian stride in still in full Robin-gear.

Tim scowls. “How did you get in here?”

“It was fairly simple,” the kid snorts. “A fish tank, Drake? Really?”

Tim looks like he wants to protest, but Jason chuckles. “It was kind of obvious, babybird.”

“You can barely take care of yourself, and you expect someone with a brain to believe you have the patience to care for fish?” the boy continues. “Exactly who do you think has been feeding them when you forget?”

Tim gapes. “You…break into my apartment…to feed my fish?”

Jason can’t help the loud guffaw that escapes at that, earning two equally unimpressed glares in return. He doesn’t care—that might be the funniest thing he’s heard in days.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Barbara says and wheels out of the room. “Try not to kill each other, boys. Alfred would be unhappy about it.”

“Luckily, we are standing in a well-stocked room with several methods for resuscitating a dead body,” Damian replies easily.

“Don’t you have school?” Tim grumbles.

“It’s Sunday, Drake.”

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“I have been sent to babysit you two and put Todd down with extreme prejudice should he try anything.

Which Tim gapes and, while Jason is…kind of relieved about.

“Aw, Dami, I knew you cared,” he teases.

“Don’t address me with that infantile drivel!”

Tim sighs.

“Just don’t set anything on fire while you’re here…”

⁂⁂⁂

I want to know what you think of my story! Leave kudos, a comment or if writing comments isn’t something you’re comfortable with, as many of these (or other emojis) as you want and let me know how you feel!

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royallyprincesslilly · 5 years

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Title: Going Through Motions{1}

Title: Going Through Motions {1}

Steve Rogers X Reader OFC Korral “Korri” Evans

Warning: Plot

Word Count: 1.9K

Summary: You and Steve had a hot, passionate, and wild romance seven years ago when you worked with the Avengers. It was the best year of your life; you’d never felt the things you’d felt in all your life. Then out of nowhere, Steve just ended things—in a letter. A heartbreaking letter, then the world deemed him a criminal, and he disappeared. Now, you’ve moved on and have gotten engaged to rich man Marc Spector. Tony brings you back to work with the newly rebuilt Avengers that is still led by Captain America who is definitely done asking for permission and not looking for forgiveness. Or is he?

Note: So, for this fic, we are going to alter the MCU timeline a bit. This takes place after Civil War, but Infinity War has not happened yet. Steve is off the grid for seven years before he comes back. {I know that’s a long time, but let me rock please} Also, I’m going to be introing/adding in Moon Knight (Marc Spector) in just because I feel like it and I want to start exploring other Marvel characters and of course I will twist him to serve my purposes.

**Loosley Proofread/edited**

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean?”

“What’s not to understand? The Avengers are being put back together,” Tony exclaimed with a clap of his hands. Korral stood there gaping at him convinced he’d lost his mind. The Avengers had been broken up for the last near seven years. They were all sprawled out across the world doing god knows what. The CIA, FBI, SHIELD and every government entity had an order that if any of them were seen they were to be immediately apprehended if safe to do so and if they put up a fight they were to shoot to kill. That was the order for all except Steve; he was shoot to kill on sight.

“Tony, I don’t understand.” He continued to walk, not caring that you’d stopped in the hall trying to make sense of his words. You scurried to catch up and made it just in time before the elevator doors closed. You pressed your back to the glass wall and took a deep breath.

“Explain it to me, please.” Tony took a deep breath and paused his tapping into the tablet he held.

“Right now, we are going down to the conference room that I hate the most to sit with the powers that be who think they’re in charge of the world’s defenses--,” he said normally before his voice dropped to a less than discreet whisper. “They’re really not,” he finished before pointing a self-gratifying finger to himself. Shaking your head, you stifled a scoff; this was nothing new, this was Tony. You didn’t mind, after working with him for the last ten years you’d gotten to know him pretty well.

“What are we meeting with them for? I thought we hated them after the fallout.” Tony nodded and continued tapping into the tablet.

“Oh, we do still hate them, but keep your enemies closer, remember.” You nodded because it was rule number two around here. “So. we’re going to meet them so they can officially gloss over their shortcomings in the last year to generously drop the charges against our friends,” he explained. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. The elevator stopped at the bottom floor, and Tony walked off, you remained still trying to catch up. You felt like you were in an alternate universe. “When did all this happen?” Again, you looked beside you and Tony wasn’t there, he was halfway across the lobby. You ran to him.

“Last night,” he said before he stopped and looked at you. “Are you okay?” He had to be kidding. You currently had whiplash. You had no idea any of this was in the works. “Korral!” Tony shouted your name and snapped his fingers before your face. You focused on him. “Yes, I’m fine.” He studied you, and you wondered if he was using his high-tech glasses to scan you. “I’m fine. I just needed a minute to catch up. What do you need from me?” Tony started walking again, and it was then you saw the obscene amount of security agents standing around.

“I’ve sent it to your tablet. I also want you to tally how many times one or more of them says this phrase sequence “our decision.” I’m placing my bet now that it’ll be more than twenty. What’s yours?” As you looked around you and accessed those around you, you tried to get control over your nervousness. If this order actually went through it meant a lot. It meant a hell of a lot. Shaking your head, you straightened your back and pasted a calm, detached expression to your face. “Twenty is lowballing it, go big or go home, I call every other sentence.” Tony smiled and nodded. “I like the way you think Evans.”

The two of you walked toward the conference room, three secret agents stopped you and scanned your bodies with a wand no doubt checking for weapons. They were right to check. The wand beeped ferociously at Tony’s chest, and he gave them a “are you serious” look before they allowed him through the conference doors. When it was your turn, they looked over you but didn’t scan. They just nodded their head to let you through. They clearly didn’t think you were a threat. When you walked into the room there were seven powerful-looking men and dozens of others standing around. You quickly surveyed the room and made a note of everyone. Most were familiar faces, but there were a few that were all new to you.

As you and Tony took your seats you scanned the file Tony sent you and smiled at the top disclaimer. “Don’t trust any of them, especially the one with the brown suit and purple tie, who wears purple and brown?” Pinching your lips, you tried to keep a professional exterior. The Secretary of State began his spiel; he looked less than happy to be saying the words. No doubt he hated to admit that the world needed the Avengers. Since their disbandment and the kill orders, chaos was everywhere, and threats came from left and right. They were stretched thin and quickly came to regret their decisions, but like the government, they also hated to admit their wrongdoings and make a change. That meant they would have to be right here in front of Tony and Tony was a less than gracious winner.

Just as expected, every sentence showcased that they had come to this decision with no outside influence. Every time he said it Tony sent a message to you keeping tally of it. By the time the Secretary of State finished, it had easily been thirty minutes. “So, let me get this right; you’re here with your tail between your legs admitting that you made a mistake, a very horrible mistake and now it’s your decision to rectify it? is that right?” You smirked and pinched your lips again. Of course Secretary of State Ross didn’t respond. Instead, he nodded his head to one of the many heads in the room. From the back, a young woman gathered a few folders and placed them in front of all who sat at the conference table. You opened the folder and saw images of the people you’d worked with for years and who you hadn’t physically seen in too long.

“Glad to see you’re still the same Stark.” Tony looked in the folder. “I don’t know who you want me to turn into Ross; I can only be me.” You slowly flipped through the images, Clint, Sam, Wanda, Vision, Natasha and him. You stopped at his picture and almost audibly gasped, you didn’t expect he would be part of this deal. You thought it would be just the others. Your heart began pounding rapidly, and you slowly went over every detail of his face, every minuscule wrinkle, each bushy eyebrow, his defined nose, and equally defined jaw and his lips. Lips you’d surprisingly fell in love with. He was gorgeous. It had been seven years since you’d seen him, there was no indicating he looked this way anymore. He could have aged, wrinkled, something.

“Do you want this to happen or not?” You brought your attention back to him those in the room and glanced at Tony who took a deep breath. “Continue.” Secretary Ross went over the details of the deal which primarily spoke of each of them having to remain on the straight and narrow and follow the rules that had been in place before everything went to shit. You knew they wouldn’t support the accords, that was never going to happen. A message came in from Tony, and he knew it too, but with Tony, he knew how to keep his hand hidden to make it seem he was playing ball. “You’re responsible Stark. This will blow back on you if this goes south—again,” Secretary Ross finished.

Tony held up two of his fingers; “On my honor as a boy scout Ross. Cross my heart and hope to die.” He did the actual action for emphasis. “We’ll see. Let’s get this over with.” Tony took out his pen and signed his name then slid the folder to the center of the table. Across the table, Secretary Ross did the same, but unlike Tony, he didn’t look so confident, it was as if he expected this to go bad. Honestly, you didn’t know what to expect. Another ten minutes passed, and the meeting finished. You excused yourself to the ladies’ room and stared at yourself in the mirror for far too long trying to get a grasp on everything that had just happened.

When you walked into Tony’s office thirty minutes later, he stood and waved you over. You hurried to his desk and listened to the tail end of his conversation. “It’s only a matter of time now. I expect the announcement tonight or tomorrow. I’ll keep you posted.” He turned to you and smiled. “Ready for things to get a lot louder around here?” You scoffed. He couldn’t be serious. You nodded and did your best to smile. “Tony, does this include—him?” As if for the first time realizing your struggle Tony’s expression softened. “Steve. Uh, yeah. His terms are slightly different though; because of his role in breaking the others out and aiding and abetting Bucky they think his morals are compromised.” You nodded. You weren’t surprised by his actions once you’d learned of them. You and Steve had several long conversations where he told you all about his friendship with Bucky and his regrets over the years. Steve was as loyal as they came. That was one of the traits that solidified the decision to make him Captain America back in the day. He was goodness.

“So, what are his terms?” Tony took a bottle of water out the mini-fridge and drank from it. “Well, they definitely want him to sign the accords and sort of agree to be surveilled,” he rushed out. You snorted. “That’s not happening Tony.” He nodded. “Oh, I know, but they don’t know that.”

You were used to the ride the slope of right and wrong with Tony. “Why would you go out on a limb knowing he wouldn’t agree, especially after everything that happened between you?” Tony sighed and looked out over the setting sun of the New York skyline. “Seven years is a long time Korral. I’ve had a lot of time to think and see things differently and from other perspectives. You can thank Pepper for that.” You smiled; Pepper did make him more human. It was sweet. “I understand. Plus, he’s Captain America, he’s Earth’s best defender.” You couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Tony nodded his head and walked away. “Laugh it up. I know you’re laughing to hide the fact that you’re freaking out about this especially given the nature of your relationship back then and the state of your relationship with Marc currently.”

Yeah, he called you out—extra loud. “Wow.” Tony smiled again and sat behind his desk. “If those are the terms, he won’t come back Tony. There is no way in hell he would come back on the grid to be controlled. You know Steve.” He sat there studying you. “Is it that you truly believe he won’t come back or you’re afraid he will?” You shook your head, rolled your eyes and looked out the window. “He won’t come back,” you finalized before you turned and walked to the door. “Good night.” There would be nothing in the world that would drag him back into the light especially to give up his freedom.

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!

#going through motions fic #Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x black reader #angst fanfic #steve rogers smut

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kisant · 4 years

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agoddamn ha respondido a tu publicación “@ezralahm ha respondido a tu publicación “The Miklan mission is...”

Wait, when is it said that Ionius was trying to limit the power of Crest nobles? I was under the impression that all we heard was that Ionius was trying to obtain more power. Noted anti-Crest Hanneman believes that von Vestra was acting altruistically

Sorry but I went into a coughing fit at "I guess I assumed it was progressive because that makes Edelgard right" and "I've only finished Flower"

That came out a lot more aggressive than I meant, I apologize. I'm not feeling well and let myself get too flippant. I like a lot of your original analysis but I think your foundation is critically flawed by not having the full context of Faerghus's situation and making assumptions in Edelgard's favor”

Yeah, that did come off as a little bit aggressive my dude. Like, oh, excuse me for not having yet finished all the routes in a rather lengthy game that only came out in late July, I happen to have a life outside talking about videogames.

What I’m essentially doing is liveblogging my experience with the game, first with Crimson Flower, which was my first route, and now with Azure Moon, my second, so it’s only natural for me to compare Edelgard and Dimitri because of their radically opposed viewpoints and roles in the game, not because I hate either of the two. In fact, I think I’ve been rather fair to what I’ve seen of Dimitri just yet (I’m up to the “investigate Flayn’s disappearance” mission in AM), because I acknowledged his good points several times already in these meta posts. I do agree with you on that I don’t have all the information yet, and that my analysis may be flawed because of that, but that’s because I’m liveblogging, not analyzing the game from the perspective of someone who has finished all the routes.

And I defend Edelgard because I actually like Edelgard, much like Dimitri stans defend Dimitri and have yet to get half the amount of vitriol Edelgard’s get. With him it’s all “poor little boy was sooooo sad and traumatized, let’s handle him with kiddy gloves and ignore his violent streak and unthinking defense of harmful traditions and the status quo, because that bitch Edelgard made him SO MAD and it’s all her fault for starting an unnecessary war when everything was already fine and dandy in the perfect land of Fodlan”

That’s what annoys me about Dimitri stans, that many of them absolutely refuse to admit Dimitri’s faults while requiring Edelgard’s to pretty much put on a disclaimer before any post that is vaguely positive about her, saying that of course we know she was evil and wrong about everything and that we apologize for preferring her to the oh so perfect and holy knight Dimitri. I’m not saying that you’re one of those Dimitri stans, but it is a common enough attitude in his fandom for me to be annoyed at it.

If Ionius’ reforms were about centralizing state power, that means that he was dimishing the power of the crest-bearing nobility by default. And given what we’ve seen about the state of most of the empire’s noble houses (like with houses Aegir, Varley, Bartels and the house that used Hanneman’s sister as a crest broodmare, for example), I can’t say it was a bad political move born only of the desire for power. I also find it quite interesting that people in this fandom apparently have so much sympathy for the plight of the game’s feudal lords that use magically inherited superpowers and relic weapons to rule over their territories and get pissy about that power being diminished in any way, but okay.

I got an entirely different reading on the Hanneman and Hubert support conversations, by the way. What I got from that conversation is that Marquis Vestra was a good and loyal man who was forced to choose between the emperor and his son’s safety, and he chose to protect Hubert over his duty to the emperor. This caused Hubert to hate his father and to act as his complete opposite, putting his own loyalty to Edelgard above everything. And given Marquis Vestra’s position as spymaster and retainer to the emperor and the Slitherer’s involvement with the Insurrection, I think they were involved in him being cornered into making such a decision.

Talking about the experiments, I don’t know where you got that the emperor approved the experiments. In Edelgard’s crowning ceremony, she says that the crest experiments on the royal children were part of the Prime Minister’s plot with the Slitherers, and that not only did they made her father watch as his children were turned into science experiments and tortured into death and insanity, but Edelgard saw the suffering in his eyes and how helpless he was to help them or make their torturers stop.

EDIT: Wait, I don’t know if it was you making that point or another person. I apologize if it wasn’t you and I confused you answer with someone else’s. YUP, I CONFUSED TWO DIFFERENT RESPONSES TO THE SAME POST, MY BAD. IT WAS @ezralahm WHO SAID THAT THE EMPEROR CONSENTED TO HIS CHILDREN BEING EXPERIMENTED ON BY THE SLITHERERS, NOT YOU.

So yeah, I do believe that there is enough evidence in canon Crimson Flower to believe that Edelgard and her father had similar reformist ideals, and that the difference between them is that Edelgard succeeded where Ionius failed, not because I think having a similar political ideology to her father automatically gives Edelgard the higher moral ground.

What I do think gives Edelgard a high moral ground are her actions after the war, in which she spent years, if not decades, working on reforming the united Fodlan, reducing the power and importance of crests and the nobility, and giving commoners a chance to excel on their own merits through measures such as universal education, not to mention having gotten rid of the two shadow factions that had been fucking over humanity for at least a thousand years. It’s also implied that Edelgard also fostered good relations with foreign countries by negotiating with Almyra (something she showed she was willing to do in her paralogue) and giving Brigid its independence back.

And after her job was done, she selected a successor based on their personal merit (instead of making her own crest baby to succeed her) and abdicated the throne. There are still nobles in her ending, just like there are still slitherers, but it’s because completely getting rid of those two factions took the majority of her reign after the war.

#agoddamn #fire emblem three houses #edelgard von hresvelg #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #ionius ix #azure moon playthrough #fe3h meta #my posts #kisant liveblogs three houses

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thdorkmagnet · 4 years

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Starco Wedding: Perfect

Hey everyone! So yeah I decided to go ahead and post a chapter or two of some other stuff while I finish up Chapter 14. This one was originally for my Starcoweek5 prompts but I think it works as a stand alone story. Basically you can probably guess what is happening here. It’s the biggest day of Star and Marco’s lives and Marco has gone above and beyond to make this the perfect wedding for him and Star. This is about as fluffy as I could possibly get, until probably my next chapter, hehehehe.

Please enjoy and have some tissues ready, this is one of those chapters that tugs at those heartstrings.

Check out my other stuff over on Fanfiction!

Disclaimer: Star vs and all its characters are owned by Daron Nefcy and Disney. All rights go to them.

“Today was supposed to be perfect,” Marco mumbled to himself, rolling his eyes before kicking his opponent back, ignoring the scuff he created on his nice dress shoes. At this point his tux was ruined anyways, covered in dirt and rips from the intense battle that was taking place. The warrior Marco was fighting growled, before rising back to his feet, charging at him with a raised sword. Marco just dodged easily out of the way, hitting him in the back and knocking the enemy out cold. “Why do things never go my way?” the boy asked the sky.

The day had started off wonderfully, too, the day both he and Star had been waiting for when they would finally take each others hand in marriage and seal their love forever. Since Marco had proposed to her (earning him lots of tears and kisses from his future wife) the young man had been planning the perfect wedding for them. He admitted he had gone overboard a bit: selecting the perfect day, the perfect place, the best flowers in Earth-ni, the most delicious cake money could afford, the works. But that was only because he wanted everything to be just right when he married the woman of his dreams. This was going to be the most special and amazing day of his life, he wanted it to be one to remember.

Star hadn't seemed as invested in the planning, only pitching in an idea here and there with varying levels of success with her finance, like when he had to hesitantly and gently remind his love that warnicorns were wild and dangerous animals and probably shouldn't be used to pull any of the carriages, especially when cars would suffice just fine. Mostly Star seemed to leave the planning to Marco, squealing and showing off her ring to all her friends and even some strangers, bragging about the fact that she was going to marry her Marco, which ceased to cause the man to blush bright red.

But Marco didn't mind that Star had taken a step back from the planning, after all he could handle it just fine on his own and he wanted to surprise her with most perfect wedding this world had ever seen.

And at the start of the day it seemed like that was exactly what he had gotten. As the proceedings began, things had started off well, the selected church looking like something out of a fairy tale, its halls gleaming with light and coated in beautiful white roses. Marco was overjoyed to see the seats filling up with the loving faces of Marco and Star's friends and family (as well as some news crew who were determined not to miss out on the “wedding of the century”) and he couldn't help but smile at every familiar face he saw.

The proceeding as well, went off without a hitch, as the gentle, peaceful melody from Ruberiot set the tone perfectly as the flower girls started their walk down the aisle. Or in the case of the four year olds, Mari and Meteora, it was more like ran down the aisle throwing flower petals up in the air and even sometimes at each other giggling away, making the whole crowd smile and awe at the young girls antics. Marco shook his head as he watched his sister and her best friend take their spots at the front, Mariposa waving over at him eagerly and he gave her a small wave back.

But all thoughts after that were forgotten, as the music suddenly changed and he looked across the hall just as the woman of his dreams stepped into view. He froze filled with so much love and joy at that second that he could barely breath and his best man, Tom, had to put a hand on his back to keep him from falling over as he swayed unevenly on his feet. He drank in every inch of her appearance, reveling in the soft white dress that flowed beautifully and gracefully off of his wife-to-be, admiring how perfectly the dress held her small frame in just the right ways and how the faded pink hearts that decorated the bottom were a nice and adorable touch. She had on long, pure white gloves that ran past her elbows and made a heart shape at the end. And a wedding veil that flowed down her golden blond hair, which had been curled delicately at the ends.

Her piercing blue eyes and loving smile matched his own as she almost glided down the aisle, held in the tight and loving embrace of her father, Marco only breaking off the stare for an instant to give a quick, grateful smile to Moon, for somehow convincing her barbarian husband to re-dawn a fancy suit for the event, which she returned warmly.

After that, all else faded into the background, the music and chatter fading into a dull barely audible sound, the crowd of faces vanishing as his Star became the center of his universe once more, right where she belonged. He hung on her every movement, on every twinkle in her eye, every step that she took, not one detail of his lovely wife leaving his sight.

When she finally reached him, they just stared at each other, for what felt like an eternity, just like they had the day they had gotten together, when their worlds had forever cleaved together. “Hey,” Star muttered, the love on her face and tone unmistakable to the boy.

“Hey,” Marco replied, swallowing down the lump in his throat.

It was Tom who had broken through this moment, as he loudly cleared his throat, drawing the two back to reality as they took their place in front of Queen Eclipsa, standing beside one another, waiting to hear their vows as the older woman began. But as the ceremony continued, no one was aware of a creeping evil lurking just outside. And this evil decided to rear its ugly head just as Star and Marco were about to declare their vows, the doors to bursting open loudly, drawing everyone's attention to the entrance, eyes widening and mouths dropping open in fear.

There stood none other than Mina Loveberry, wanted criminal of Earth-ni, with a group of rebel warriors behind her, all with hatred directed on the royal family and, more importantly, Star and Marco, all determined to make the couple pay by destroying their cherished day.

Marco had known that many Mewmans and even humans had never adjusted to the new world Star and Marco had unintentionally created, resenting them greatly for destroying magic and then forcing their worlds to merge into one, but he hadn't realized how far they would go to get revenge until right then, when the two lovers became a target of retaliation.

The room was quickly stormed with enemies and the peaceful wedding scene became an all out battle. Which was where Marco was now, fighting warrior after warrior that came his way, which was fairly easy, none of them a match for his impressive set of skills honed after years upon years of training. The real blow for Marco was from the disappointment he felt, his perfect moment ruined, stolen from him by a bunch of petty, narrow-minded jerks who were too stuck in their ways to see the good their change had brought. Marco knocked another one of these said jerks back with a swing of his sword, before looking to see how everyone else was faring in their fights.

Tom was currently lighting everyone in range on fire, Janna helping the process along by spraying the shaken bottle of wine at the burning opponents. Buff Frog was holding his own against at least four of the angry Mewmans, his daughter Katrina lending her father support as she showed off her own skills in battle, side by side with her dad. Pony was stabbing at them with her horn, making sure to be in good view of her camera as she did, looking as brave and dramatic as possible and Marco couldn't help but roll his eyes as he blocked a sword with his own.

Eclipsa and Globgor were holding there own against a large group of enemies as well, the royal couple fighting as one, so in sync with each other that Marco couldn't help but smile. River had gone all out barbarian ripping off his suit and beating them all senseless with his bare hands. Even Mariposa and Meteora were using their small forms to trip their opponents and knock them off balance. Many others knights and friends were lending their help in the fight, as well, while everyone else was hiding as best as they could from the danger, Moon directing many of them away and out of harm's way, thus giving the more confident fighters as much space as possible for their battle. Marco's eyes, however, were now searching for someone else in the crowd, his heart pounding in fear as he scanned the room for the love of his life and nearly sighed out loud when he finally spotted her.

Star was in the middle of karate kicking her opponent in the face, a look of such hate and anger that Marco almost felt sorry for whoever had to go up against his beautiful fiance. Though he wouldn't be lying if her graceful yet intense display of fighting skills didn't make his heart flutter. She looked so confident and gorgeous even in her ruined wedding dress, which was also getting torn up from all the fighting. Still Marco silently thanked himself for instructing Star in karate because, wow, did she look amazing while kicking bad guy butt.

This brought a new fire to the young man's soul, as he was reminded of how much he loved his Star and how angry he was at being prevented from taking her as his wife. He roughly grabbed a charging warrior by the collar yelling, “Why did you guys have to attack us today?! Seriously any other day wouldn't have been better?”

The villain sneered at the young man, spitting out, “Because we wanted to destroy your chance at happiness, Marco Diaz. You and your fiancee both will know what it's like to lose everything you cherished, to have your whole world torn apart!”

Marco growled, his hand tightening its hold on his sword. “That was over four years ago, why can't you people just let that go and move on already? Why do you have to destroy the best moment of my life just for petty, pointless revenge?!”

The young man was so lost in his own anger and too distracted yelling in the face of his smug opponent that he didn't see Mina coming up behind him, a sword raised in strike.

“Marco, look out!” came a familiar scream as the Latino turned to see Star kick Mina right in the jaw, sending her stumbling backward. But she didn't lose hold on her sword, as she just charged Star again with a crazed look in her eye. The blond easily dodged the swing, before Marco parried the blow and kicked the insane woman off of her feet. But Mina started to recover, rising back onto her feet, only to be attacked by a furious and unstoppable Globgore, who yelled, “You stay away from those two!” Eclipsa soon joined in as well, helping her husband to take on the once proud warrior.

Star and Marco panted for a moment, as they watched Mina struggle to hold off the royal couple on her own, before turning back to one another, Star asking in worry, “Marco, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine Star,” Marco replied with a reassuring and grateful smile. “Thanks for the save back there.”

“Anytime,” Star said cheerfully. But seeing an enemy fast approaching she yelled, “Incoming!” The two dodged the violent swing, before punching him back as one. The two were quickly surrounded by more opponents as they fought them off as a team but Star seemed to notice something was off with her boyfriend as she asked with a worried frown, “Marco, what's wrong?”

“I'm sorry, Star,” he quickly blurted out, dodging underneath a sword swing before hitting them as hard as he could with the blunt end of his sword, knocking them back and into more enemies. “I wanted out wedding to be perfect but now everything is ruined!”

“What, are you kidding? This is the most fun I've had all year!” Star declared, kicking her enemy in the side and knocking him over. “And I ain't letting this silly old fight get in the way of being with the man I love. So,” she continued, before quickly jumped over to Marco's side, surprising him as she took his hand tightly in her own. “Why don't we just get married right here?”

“Wait, now?!” Marco yelled in shock. “But we're in the middle of a fight!”

“Yeah but, everyone is here and afterwords their all gonna be too tired and everything, not to mention the police report.” Star explained, sounding annoyed. “And we'll end up having to wait until another day. And I don't know about you but, I don't want to wait.”

“Well no but-”

“Marco Diaz do you want to marry me or not!” Star shouted and Marco instantly answered, “No I do, I do!”

The loving smile returned to Star's pretty face as she gave his hand a tight squeeze, adding, “Then, what do you say? Let's get married right now.”

Marco took in a shaky breath, before nodding determinedly. “Okay, let's do it.”

Star smiled before directing her attention to the acting queen. “Hey, Eclipsa! Can you do us a favor and marry us?” the blond shouted.

“Now!” Eclipsa's panted voice asked in shock.

“Yeah, right now, we want to be married!” Marco yelled back.

“Oh very well then,” Eclipsa said with no hesitation, clearing her throat before saying, “Do you Star Butterfly take Marco Ubaldo Diaz to be your lawfully wedded husband in sickness and-”

“No, no, read the thing I gave you, remember?” Star interrupted, Marco looking over at her in confusion, before immediately having to direct his attention back on the fight. “What thing?” he asked, punching a warrior directly in the face.

“Your not the only one who made plans,” Star replied, with a knowing wink.

“Oh right, of course,” the queen of darkness replied, before searching her dress for something, finally finding the small slip of paper, hidden in one of the many pockets of the formal dress.

“Let's see now,” she muttered to herself, trying to regain her train of thought. “Oh, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to stand beside him through all the adventures that come...” Did Star write this? Marco wondered as the woman continued. “...to love and care for him even when he's being a royal doofus sometimes...”

Marco shot Star a small glare, who had a smug smile on her face. Yep she definitely wrote it. “...to promise to share the bed with him, even when he's hogging all the covers for himself...” The Latino blushed at this, nearly forgetting to block as a sword came far to close to stabbing him in the eye. “...to do whatever it takes to make him happy and smile...” The room let out a collective 'Awww' at that, all except the attempted assassins of course. This was when Star and Marco noticed that many of their family and friends had moved closer to the site of the battle, most of the warriors already defeated so it was safer to do so, watching as the impromptu wedding took place. “...but most importantly to be his very best friend as long as you both shall live.”

“I do!” Star exclaimed, breaking off the fight long enough, to pull Marco into a quick hug, making the young man smile ear to ear, so distracted by the blood rushing to his face that he almost didn't hear as Eclipsa began his vows.

“And do you Marco Ubaldo Diaz take Star Butterfly to be your lawfully wedded wife, to stand beside her in peace and in danger...” Marco's eyes got teared up as Eclipsa continued, his mind rushing back to so many years ago, reminded of the first time he had heard this speech, when he had knelt before his princess as she proclaimed him her royal squire. “...as her trusted equal and love...” But now, they stood side by side facing the danger as one and that made tears of joy and emotion spill from his eyes, the young man barely able to see anything, as the knights took over the fighting, protecting the lovebirds as the vows were completed. “...to go clubbing with her even when you are too tired, to share your late night nachos but again, most importantly...” Star took Marco's hand tightly in her own, drawing his eyes onto her as she whispered the last part in sync with Eclipsa... “to be her (my) very best friend as long as you both shall live.”

Star leaned in closer to the boy, now next to his ear, as she added in the softest tone Marco had ever heard, “Amen.”

The Latino was wiping the falling tears from his eyes with his sleeve, his sword long since clattering to the ground, as he replied with a barely repressed sob, “I do.”

Eclipsa nodded, saying, “Then we will need the rings.”

“On it!” Tom shouted from the corner of the room, shoving about three warriors out of his way, as he flew over to his two besties at a blazing speed, by the time he reached them he was panting for breath. He held out his hand, showing them their rings and they both took them eagerly smiling gratefully at Tom. They both took turns slipping the rings on, before holding each others hands again, eyes locked in a mixture of bright brown and blue.

Eclipsa gave them a soft smile, before looking over to see Mina and most of the warriors in chains and watching the couple with intense glares on their faces, guarded by Higgs and the other knights. She let out a quick sigh, glad the danger had passed for the young couple for now. And as her eyes drifted back to the young, smiling couple, looking lost in each others eyes, she was reminded of her and Globgore, wishing for the two to never suffer as they had in order to stay together as she said, “Then by the power vested in me as the Queen of Earth-ni, I now pronounce you, husband and wife. You may-”

But Star didn't wait for her to finish, as she pulled to her, planting a loving, passionate kiss to his lips, dipping him low, as he clung tightly onto her, drawing her in as close to himself as he could. “-kiss,” Eclipsa finished needlessly.

Clapping sounded around the room, cheers and shouts from Star and Marco's loved ones, as the two just revealed in the kiss, letting it go for as possible, their lips moving against one another in a dance. Both the Diaz's and Butterfly's were in tears, Rafael and River holding each other as they bawled their eyes out, while Moon and Angela just sniffed and wiped small tears from their eyes. Mari and Meteora were gagging, too young to understand the concept of kissing and love, mostly just finding it gross. And everyone else, Tom, Janna, Jackie, Starfan13, Pony Head, Ferguson, Alfonso, Buff Frog, and many others were all just clapping and smiling, glad to see their two friends finally married.

As the two finally broke away the kiss, they went back to just staring at each other lovingly, surrounded by everyone important to them, and Star asked, “So what did you think, Marco? I know it wasn't the wedding you planned but-”

Marco cupped Star's cheeks with both of his hands as he replied in a loving whisper, “It was perfect.”

And then the two went in for a shorter, but equally passionate kiss, pouring their love for one another into the breathless act. Once they parted, Star leaned her forehead against his own, staring deep into the chocolate brown orbs of her husband, as she said something that sent shivers of joy and anticipation spiraling down Marco's spine, as he wondered what her wife had been planning. “Just wait until you see the honeymoon.”

And then the couple proceeded to have pillow fights, eat nachos until they were sick and rode wild warnicorns until they fell asleep cuddling with one another... haha, at least that's how I think the honeymoon went! So I hope you all liked, I know this wasn't a traditional fluffy wedding, since I turned it into an all out battle at one point... but I just didn't really want to write a perfect wedding where everything goes great and felt like this was a bit more fitting of our favorite couple. After all, when has anything with these two ever been normal. They enjoy the crazy, weirdness that is their life, so long as they have each other through it all!

#Starco #Formally Starcoweek5 #Starcoweek5 #Starco wedding #My Writing #Thanks for the patience!

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shellsan · 5 years

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30 Day Writing Challenge

Day Twenty-Eight: Luck

Fandom: Merlin

Pairing: Merthur or Gen

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin

Luck

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It occurred to Arthur once, late at night, long after the moon had reached it's peak, and even longer since Merlin had left him.

Merlin was an enigma, truly amazing. He followed Arthur everywhere, whether he was supposed to or not, witty remarks and sarcasm all the while, and he always always came out of it alive.

It was an odd thing to realise, so late in the game. It had been years since he's met Merlin at this point, and that meant he had gone years not realising just how lucky his friend manservant, has been to come out of each ordeal with sometimes less than a scratch on him.

But it was also concerning.

For years, he'd gotten used to bringing Merlin everywhere with him – no longer questioning when Merlin also assumed he was coming along – and he'd forgotten that the other man didn't have a single ounce of training (as evidenced by the way he still refused Arthur's offers to learn).

And that was just the kicker, wasn't it? He had offered for this exact reason a couple of times over the years, and every time Merlin had refused, throwing out that he wasn't suited to sword-fighting. It was almost like a hint to something, but Arthur had never been able to figure out what, so he'd just let it go.

Another memory rose unbidden from his mind, Merlin proclaiming that he'd die if the manservant didn't come to him, but that he would be fine as long as Merlin was with him.

It had been such an odd thing to say, and Merlin had almost fallen over himself trying to explain exactly why, which had amused and exasperated him at the time. But if he thought back to the times before Merlin had become his manservant, to the near-misses he'd experienced in the past, he'd gotten so much closer to death every time before that.

When Merlin was with them though, lady luck seemed to favour them. Tree branches would fall on his enemies, and bandits would trip and stumble. And not just for him. For the rest of the knights as well.

He'd gotten so used to these happenings that he hadn't thought of their origins in a long while, but in the darkness of this night, he couldn't help but wonder, suspicion rising.

If it had been as such only a few times, then perhaps he could view it as coincidence, but a memory of Merlin and his friend (Will?) in Ealdor rose to his mind, and he could feel suspicion rising.

The first instinct he had was to deny that it was possible. Merlin wouldn't do that. He wouldn't practice magic, not in Camelot.

Except he would. Stupid, reckless, brave, kind-hearted Merlin who cared so much more for his people then Arthur ever could, and who had carved his place by Arthur's side, day by day, through every hardship on his rise to the crown, comforting him through it all, a steady presence through betrayal after betrayal, always reliable.

Merlin would do almost anything to protect those he loved. Of this, Arthur had no doubt.

As he continued to think on moments in the past, Arthur found only more and more evidence to support his theory, and wasn't that the worst thing? Because he spent a lot of his time with Merlin, most of it if he was being honest, so he couldn't very well leave this secret alone.

Part of him snarled at that word. Secret.

Merlin had kept something secret from him. He would not claim that Merlin had lied, because he had no doubt that when he finally asked his manservant whether or not it was true, he wouldn't lie.

Merlin didn't have it in him.

He would, however, try to side-step the question, and confuse Arthur into forgetting what it was he was asking. So he would have to be just as conniving (because there was no other word to describe what Merlin was. He was conniving, and so much smarter than Arthur ever gave him credit for).

Or perhaps, he reasoned with himself, maybe there had been enough 'conniving' between them. Perhaps the best solution was the easiest. He would just tell Merlin his thoughts, and refuse to let the man leave until he confessed.

And then Arthur could fill in so many gaps that he had forgotten in his anger, and irritation, almost always towards Merlin. (See? Conniving.)

Content with his plans, Arthur lay there throughout the night, willing his mind to sleep, but unable to catch more than a short sleep here and there, before he awoke once more.

The third time he forced himself to sit up in bed, giving into his need to be awake – and a little restless thinking of what was going to happen in a short while.

During what sleep he had gotten, he had been reminded of just how much Merlin had seen him do, how much he had watched Uther do, condemning his kin to death, over and over again. How could the other man stand to be here, in this castle, standing by Arthur's side always.

And when he realised that Arthur knew, how would he react.

When he'd thought on it before bed he had thought of Merlin defiant and then reluctant, but his dreams had offered him the thought of Merlin cowering, of Merlin scared of him and that hurt so much more than the brief moment of hurt he'd felt at not being told for so many years.

And then he no longer had time to re-plan, to re-consider, because his door was rattling, and Merlin was stepping into the room, shock at Arthur being awake clear on his face.

“Well, Sire, I had no idea that you would be so eager for today's activities.” Merlin chirped, voice so cheerful, much too cheerful for the time, and yet so like himself.

Swallowing thickly, Arthur took a deep breath. “We have to speak about something.”

He was proud of how steady his voice sounded, even as he wished that he was anywhere but in bed.

Merlin blinked for a moment, the picture of innocence as he stepped closer. “Is that so? Would you rather be dressed for this 'talk' or..?”

Arthur was about to agree, before his mouth clicked shut as he thought about it.

Perhaps if they spoke in this way, no pretences, no real line to draw between their status', then Merlin would be less inclined to be scared.

“No.” He stated finally, patting the mattress near him. “Come sit.”

Merlin's eyebrows rose high – something he'd clearly gotten from Gaius, and god, there's no way that Merlin was keeping this from the old man.

“Are you feeling okay this morning, Sire?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Just sit down, Merlin.” He grumbled, annoyance rising despite what was about to happen. “And stop that.”

It took a moment for Merlin to get what 'that' was, but as soon as he did he looked even more curious.

“I finally go out of my way to show you respect, and you don't want it.” He complained half-heartedly, grinning as he let himself fall onto the bed heavily.

Snorting, Arthur rolled his eyes again, trying not to look too fond. “With how you say it, it might as well be an insult.” He grumbled.

“Only the best for my King.”

And wasn't that the issue? Because the way Merlin said that was so sincere. He truly only wanted the best for Arthur, for his king.

It was such a rush to realise as well, that somehow he had managed to receive the right for this amazing man to pledge himself to Arthur in a way he would pledge himself to no other.

“So, what is it Arthur?” Merlin said finally, and it had been so long since he'd heard his true name from anyone's lips, and he found that suddenly, he never wanted Merlin to call him Sire ever again.

But he was digressing once more, delaying the inevitable. And it would have to end eventually.

“It had come to my realisation, Merlin, that you are my good luck charm.” Arthur started, kicking himself for the amusement that it caused on his friend's face. “A magical good luck charm at that.”

As soon as the word left his mouth, Merlin's face seemed to go passive, all amusement replaced with caution.

Not fear though, which was something.

“Sire?”

“I thought I told you to stop that.” He admonished.

Merlin frowned. “Arthur then.” He accepted. “I don't understand what you're implying.”

“Sure you do. But you want me to say it.”

There was a shrug from Merlin and a hopeless look on his face. “Wouldn't you in my position?” He shot back.

“Fine.”Arthur conceded. “Merlin, do you, or do you not have magic?”

“Yes.”

Just as he'd thought, Merlin did not lie, did not try to jump around the issue, but he was more docile then he'd thought.

“You're taking this well.”

Merlin smiled a little, looking ever so lost as he shrugged once more. “You are my king, Arthur. If you wish for me to die, then I will in a heartbeat. As long as you don't exile me – because death would be a kinder sentence.” He admitted softly, before looking into Arthur's eyes, completely relaxed, despite the caution that remained still. “But I don't think you want either of those things.”

“Oh?”

Now he was curious, because Merlin knew him best out of everyone in his life, had been with him for such a long time, and if anyone could read Arthur, then it was him.

“Yup.” And the cheeriness was back as the 'p' was popped, and he wasn't sure whether to hit shove Merlin off the bed or roll his eyes. “Because you insisted from the moment this all started that I call you by your name, which you never do. You want us to be as close to equals right now. If you wanted my head, you would've done this fully dressed and with a sword at your side. Instead you left yourself completely vulnerable.”

You trusted me wasn't said, but both men knew it was there, underlying every single word, and in every breath that he'd taken.

“You're right.” Arthur allowed.

At Merlin's wide grin of satisfaction, he opted to shove the boy this time, making him almost fall of the bed, but not quite.

“But answer me this, Merlin. Would a sword have even stopped you?” It was curiosity in his tone, not accusation, and the other man seemed to realise this as he hummed.

“If it was anyone else, Arthur, then it wouldn't have been worth a damn thing.” He admitted. “But in your hand? In your hand it would have been everything. I told you didn't I? I would submit to your decision, even if that meant that it was time for me to die.”

Swallowing thickly, Arthur shook his head at that, refusing to get emotional at Merlin's words, but having trouble given the thought of Merlin dying by his hand, even in theory.

“I'm not worth that, you fool.” He muttered finally.

Merlin shrugged. “Your worth is never for you yourself to decide.” He reminded gently.

Arthur snorted. “When did you become so wise?”

“I've always been this wise. You've just been too much of a clot-pole to realise it.”

And then their heart to heart was over. The sun was rising higher and higher in the sky, the air all the clearer now that no more secrets remain.

Later, they would have to talk more about it, there was still much Arthur had to learn, and so much more he didn't know.

But given the relaxed and happy look on Merlin's face right now, he figured they could wait.

#merlin #merlin fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #30 day writing challenge #magic reveal au

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elyssebeeart · 5 years

Text

Requiem’s End

Fandom: Transformers (Universe: Movie/Bay!verse) Rating: G Word count: ~3.3k Warnings: Death mentions Summary: Not long after the events of The Last Knight the Autobots travel to Cuba, a designated sanctuary for their kind. There they hope to reunite with old comrades and surviving members before returning to Cybertron. However, the reunion isn’t entirely sparkwarming. Disclaimer: This is to bridge the last movie and the hinted events of the [cancelled?] next film and make sense of some plotholes/unexplained things throughout the past 3 films (Dark of the Moon, Age of Extinction, The Last Knight) while keeping comic happenings/backstory in mind. Also it includes a couple of OCs who have full backstories the cinematic verse: Fyreant (c) me and Ravebreaker (c) @pumpkinachai (On Deviantart, Pending Ao3)

“Shouldn’t we be gettin’ a welcome party or somethin’? We’re war heroes, y’know.” Crosshairs complained loudly in his Cockney accent, looking unimpressed at their apparent new home as he transformed from his alt-mode. The green Autobot paratrooper bit at his dentapick in annoyance, “Sanctuary nothin’, this is punishment. Why we here again? Thought we’d be headin’ for Cybertron lickety-split but it’s been four days!”

“Qui vivra verra. Be patient, mon amie.” Hot Rod encouraged, transforming next to him. The sleek black robot with orange accents tried his best to interpret his unshakable French accent, “You might like what’s inside, no? Might like it here.”

“Anyone home?” Drift inquired as he shifted to bipedal mode, the red samurai-esque robot tilting his head. “Perhaps we got the place wrong?”

“Shh, quiet you lot. I’ve been dying to do this.” Their burly comrade, Hound, hushed as he rolled up and transformed as well. He grabbed a grenade off his belt and chucked it into the open building, calling out, “Fire in the hole!”

There was no sound for a few moments before banging and clattering was heard followed by a string of curses as a blue robot with a blue visor scrambled outside, shouting in a southern accent, “Slag it! Who in the Pit thought it was a funny idea!? Which one of you hooligans did it? I swear-”

“Topspin, there ya are. Almost didn’t recognize ya with that new look of yours, nearly took ya for Leadfoot.” Hound identified the fellow Autobot, leaning back in satisfaction as he crossed his arms. “Getting a bit rusty are we?”

“Hound, you ole dog! You tryin’ to frag me?” Topspin’s demeanor instantly changed to one of fondness as he saw the culprit. “And I got a mod in Lead’s memory, got a problem?”

“No problem. And there ain’t be no trying if I did. Didn’t ya notice the pin wasn’t pulled?”

“‘Course! I’m not blind, you piece of slag. Doesn’t mean I wasn’t about to frag someone.”

The two mechs proceeded to clasp arms affectionately before giving each other a friendly punch. Topspin let out a laugh, slapping Hound on the back, “Looks like you made it to Cuba in one piece! I’m never sure who’s going to end up on my doorstep; I heard Prime’s broadcast, guess radio silence is over.”

“It’s not like ya to miss out on a fight let alone multiple battles. Didn’t take ya much for a ‘Bot looking for retirement.”

“Yeah neither did I but losin’ my Wrecker crew and gettin’ wounded got me thinkin’. Then my buddy Simmons hooked me up and here I am! Still tryin’ to get him to tan those pasty legs of his; they could blind somebody.”

“Greetings, Topspin.” Drift bowed politely to the uncouth robot. “It is good to see you again. Are you alone?”

“Hah, hell naw. Wish I was sometimes, hold on. Yo!” Topspin shouted as he turned toward another building nearby, letting out a sharp whistle. “We’ve got company, get on out here. Vámonos!”

“You know, I don’t recall you ever being made the boss.” A young husky voice called in a mocking tone, “Maybe you should get your head examined.”

“He forgets that I’m nearly as old as him and still tries to bully; his CPU must be slipping.” Another voice replied, sounding a bit older and more relaxed. “Ah, well. We just gotta roll with the music.”

“If he has any part of his CPU left. I think he does most of his cognation through his-.”

“Whoa momma! Thank you Cybertron!” Crosshairs exclaimed, looking up where the planet could be seen in the atmosphere as two figures emerged, revealing themselves to be an orange and red femme. He turned to look at Hot Rod with pure relief and excitement, “You’re right. I like it here.”

“Other Autobots?” The red femme looked interested, a smile on her faceplates as she looked over the small group, eyeing them through her dark visor. “Mmm, some fine looking mechs too. Primus is smiling on me today.”

The smaller orange femme was silent as her red gaze swept over the others, looking hardly cheerful, “Oh goodie.”

“Ravebreaker, Fyreant, meet my old comrades. ‘cept for that guy, I have no idea who he is.” Topspin gestured at Hot Rod who shrugged and bobbed his head, confirming it was true.

“Some we already know, rustbrain.” Fyreant drily informed to which Drift politely bowed.

“‘ey, I’ve got you in my sights and… I must say it’s a nice view. Name’s Crosshairs, numero uno.” The green mech introduced himself, grinning at the femmes as he gave a wink. “How’s about I let you two ladies have the ‘onor in being by my side. Best bot in the biz after all.”

Ravebreaker instantly let out a laugh and put a servo over her mouth. Her companion however looked far less amused.

“Excuse me, I need to go perform self mutilation to spare myself from repeating this experience.” Fyreant quipped flatly, equally unimpressed and disgusted. “Meeting you all was a real pleasure, like purging my tanks.”

“Mademoiselle! Wait, s’il vous plaît! Crosshairs, he is imbécile! Gros lourdeau!” Hot Rod protested, attempting to appease while shooting the offender a look. “I’m Hot Rod; I apologize on his behalf.”

“Ooo, I like your accent.” Ravebreaker purred, drawing closer, “Keep talking.”

“Figured Prime would be with you, being you fought together; heard all about it from Simmons.” Topspin scratched his head as he got a better look at the newcomers, ignoring his companions.

“Optimus will be here soon, he had something to take care of first. Didn’t fancy he needed a convoy. Besides, me and the boys were curious about this here place you got set up.” Hound informed, looking not concerned in the slightest.

“Blimey, speak of the devil.” Crosshairs grumbled as he looked back, “Can’t let a star like me shine for long on my own, can he?”

A distinctive looking red and blue semi-truck was heading toward the group. Next to the large vehicle a sporty yellow with black racing stripes car followed, keeping an even pace with the apparent Autobot leader.

“Wait… is that, Bumblebee?” Ravebreaker’s voice was full of disbelief seeing the oncoming Camero. “That has to be him! He made it! Fyre, he made it!”

Fyreant halted her retreat, her optics wide. Her snide tone softened slightly as she turned to see her old comrade, “It’s Bee?”

“Yeah, that’s him. Doesn’t like to leave Optimus’ side much when he can help it. That’s loyalty for ya.” Hound acknowledged, grinning at the approaching duo. “Kid’s got guts, but ya probably know that.”

As the two Autobots drew closer the yellow car sped ahead only to suddenly transform to bipedal mode. The robot did a somersault before landing on his feet, breaking out into a jog toward the others, giving a casual two finger salute as he joined the group.

“Bumblebee reporting for duty. Nice to see familiar faces; not so much the ugly mugs.” He shifted his gaze from his mech comrades to the two femmes, brightening, “Rave, Fyre, you’re here! Been what, five Earth years?”

“Y-you can talk?” Ravebreaker stared at the yellow mech who appeared proud and bashful as he nodded. “Like, talk talk!? That’s all you!?”

“Really? How’d you manage that?” Fyreant exclaimed, gawking as she came closer. In hearing his true voice for the first time her memory cells echoed back various audio clips he’d played previously to converse, leaving her dazed.

“It’s… hard to explain.” Bumblebee let out a small laugh, shrugging. “But yeah, this is me. This is my voice.”

“Oh, sweet-thing I’m so happy! I’m so proud you got it back!” Ravebreaker rushed over and hugged him, giving him an affectionate pat. “What a fine voice it is too to go with a fine bot!”

“Congrats.” Fyreant seemed to relax, but still managed to look semi annoyed, “A bit sorry I couldn’t repay you by fixing it but I’m glad for you; though, it’s going to take some getting used to.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going soft.” He teased, edging closer and giving her a playful nudge. “We still need our little spitfire.”

“In your dreams.” Fyreant elbowed him back, grinning deviously. She lowered her voice, “After dealing with Topspin all this time, him treating me like his personal medic, I’m rearing to get back at him. Wanna help?”

“A chance to troll? Of course!”

“Autobots, it is good to see you here.” An all too familiar deep rolling voice called out, commanding attention. Everyone turned to see their mighty leader Optimus Prime transform, revealing his towering robot self in knight-esque armor with some retrofits. “I expect more will be arriving in time in response to my call.”

“Well, it looks like everyone else is takin’ their sweet time. Whoopdeedoo.” Crosshairs sniffed, folding his arms as he looked around for some source of entertainment. “Waste of time waitin’ around, I could be doin’ somethin’ useful.”

“Patience.” Drift urged his restless companion. “Those who have yet to arrive are late, but perhaps they have much farther to come than us.”

“Including Ratchet! Can’t wait to rub that in his face when he gets here.” Fyreant admitted to Bumblebee, sounding delighted at the prospect. “So much for nagging about being first on scene!”

Instantly the demeanor of Optimus’ group changed, Crosshairs suddenly becoming still, Drift looking away, Hound hanging his head while Hot Rod looked lost. Bumblebee appeared conflicted as Fyreant gazed up at him expectantly, the mischievous twinkle still in her optics.

“He-” Bumblebee began but Optimus placed a servo on his shoulder, causing him to go silent as he glanced up at his leader.

Optimus took a moment before speaking, “It is with a heavy spark that I must inform you that Ratchet is one with the Well of All Sparks.”

The statement hung in the air like a noxious cloud as it became uncomfortably silent. The quiet appeared to invite further unease by allowing the words to echo in audio receivers as the rest of the world seemed muted.

“… No.”

The response was barely audible but it cut through the thick silence like a knife.

“Fyreant-”

“No! Pit! No!” She shouted, her voice clipping as outrage consumed her sorrow, rejecting Bumblebee’s attempt to comfort. She stepped back, her red optics flaring, looking as if she’d been betrayed; her gaze flicked in accusation to the newcomers, “He can’t! He said I was still in training! He needs to finish teaching me! How can I… NO!”

“I’m sorry.” Bumblebee hung his head, his optics closing, “I’m so sorry. We weren’t there. We couldn’t save him.”

“No, no, no! Why!?”

“War hasn’t been kind to any of us, kid.” Hound solemnly acknowledged, turning his gaze to the ground as the memory of Ratchet’s fate haunted him. “Thank Primus you didn’t see… he wouldn’t have wanted it.”

“Who did it? Who killed him?” Fyreant’s optics smoldered with hatred, her voice dripping with venom. She looked at each of the newcomers, probing for an answer as she shook, “Tell me, Primus so help me.”

“Kid-”

“Tell me, slag it!” She screamed, fluid escaping her optics as she cut off Hound. Furiously she wiped them away, trying to will the function to cease but failed. Instantly Ravebreaker was beside her, gently holding her arm out of support not restraint. “What filth took down a medic!?”

“It was Lockdown. He was workin’ together with some humans.” Crosshairs admitted, spitting at the memory. “Chasin’ us down like animals. Gutless, the lot.”

At this information Ravebreaker’s demeanor shifted, her already sad posture tensing. Though she kept a servo on Fyreant, attempting to sooth her friend who shook with fury, a tremor ran through her as well.

“I’ll burn his optics out. I’ll cauterize his nerve circuits and then scorch them repeatedly with acid!” Fyreant swore, her optics pulsing a deeper red, her original Decepticon alignment surfacing. “Then I’ll put his head in a vise and rip it off!”

“Fyre… it was five years ago.” Bumblebee softly informed, the pity plain in his optics and voice.

“I know this is hard news and I’m familiar with your rage as I also felt it deeply. But know Ratchet, my old friend, has been avenged.” Optimus knelt down on one knee to get a better look at the grieving young femme. “I personally slew Lockdown and took care of the human responsible for ordering the attacks and defilement of our kind. While I cannot say how many of our comrades fell to his cruelty he has been stopped, permanently.”

“Slag it, slag it all…” Was all Fyreant could get out as she turned away, relieved yet angry that justice and revenge by her hand had escaped her.

“What about anyone else? Surely there are more survivors.” Topspin inquired, looking upset but knew the sting of casualties too well to be surprised. “Though, y’all are the biggest group to come; usually they’re alone and it’s been gettin’ far between arrivals.”

“I am uncertain of most of our comrades’ fates.” Optimus admitted, solemn, “My hope is that they’re still in disguise here on Earth, safe until they can come to this sanctuary or return to Cybertron.”

“Sideswipe’s gone.” Ravebreaker suddenly spoke up, her casual tone cold and distant, a slight quiver in her voice. “Just over five years ago… Must have been right before Ratchet.”

This time the shock hit Optimus’ group, Bumblebee instantly shaking his head with disbelief while Optimus closed his optics in pain and let out a tired sigh.

“That bot knew how to raise hell… him and Ironhide.” Hound lamented, taking off his helmet in respect. “Primus, they were fine mechs. My condolences, little lady.”

“Rave, I’m so sorry.” Bumblebee looked back and forth between her and Fyreant, helpless as the latter closed herself off and the former, despite the steeled look, screamed raw.

“Humans attacked, I heard it over our commlink. I couldn’t do anything to help, I was too far away.” A tremor ran through her body as she took a shaky breath, “I felt it when his spark was extinguished.”

“You felt-?” Crosshairs began, confused.

“They were sparkbonded.” Bumblebee explained in a quiet voice, “Before we all split up and scattered.”

“Mon Dieu!” Hot Rod could not control his surprise, his large optics wide.

Crosshairs let out a whistle, earning an elbowing from Drift who looked just as surprised. Meanwhile Topspin was quiet, looking awkward as it was old news to him while Fyreant was still trying to control herself, her back turned.

“It grieves me to learn of Sideswipe’s demise, he was a fine comrade and a valued warrior. He chose a fine sparkmate in you, Ravebreaker.” Optimus’ tone was bittersweet though sincerity could be heard. “He will forever remain in our sparks, as well as Ratchet and all our fallen comrades. They will live on in our memories.”

“Yes, he is forever in my spark.” Ravebreaker softly spoke, placing her servo gently on her chest. “And he lives on… through our sparkling.”

At this news the others perked up, glancing at one another to affirm they heard correctly. Bumblebee’s look of sadness turned to shock and then joy, “Really?” to which Ravebreaker nodded, her servo over her spark where the apparent new life was.

“Oi now! She’s taken and goin’ to be havin’ a baby? Just my luck.” Crosshairs complained in a not so low voice to Drift, earning himself a smack across the back of the head from Hound. “Ow! Me head!”

“Zip yer lip before I bust it.”

“Despite these sad times I find joy that life continues. There is hope with this sparkling, promise that life is returning to our race.” Optimus rose to his feet, looking proud as confidence tinged his voice. “This is the mark of a new beginning.”

“Ah, good ‘cause all this melancholy is crampin’ my mojo.” Topspin declared, “This is paradise, y’all. Lighten up, sad times are behind us! We’re moving forward, amigos!” “Yeah, what he said! Ding dong, the witch is dead!” Crosshairs agreed as he sulked, rubbing the back of his head, referring to the manipulative yet deceased Quintessa.

“Not everyone is good at brushing things off.” Drift sagely commented, “Some wish to return to their roots or continue their chosen path.”

“Yeah, well this is my chosen path: I’m keepin’ my aft planted right here. Dunno about the rest of y’all, but I got over Cybertron when I thought for a while it was destroyed by the spacebridge’s implosion eight years ago. I’ve made my peace; I’m retired!”

“Could have fooled me.” Bumblebee muttered, rolling his optics at the Wrecker’s mouthiness as he mocked talked with his servo.

“I respect the decision to remain on Earth but I’ll be going to Cybertron as the Knights of Iacon have already departed for it. There is much to be done and time is short.”

“What are you here for, Prime? Obviously not the beaches.” Topspin pressed, crossing his arms. “Speaking of which, I’m losin’ good beach sun standin’ here.”

“To assemble a new team and assess this sanctuary.” Optimus informed, “I will wait here for one Earth week, giving fellow Autobots time to respond to my broadcast and choose whether to convene here for sanctuary or join me in returning to our home world. Those who choose to return to Cybertron will aid in its restoration. However they are free to come and go as they please.”

“You know, communications is just one of my many talents.” Ravebreaker placed a servo on her hip, coy smile across her faceplates. “I can help boost the signal and encrypt it so it’s harder for enemies to pick up. That should speed things up a bit too in getting the word out.”

“I’ll go.” Fyreant spoke up her voice back to its hard edge. She looked up at the Autobot leader, her red optics no longer flaring dangerously. “There is nothing left for me here on Earth despite it being my creation place. Plus I need resources to complete the frame for Rave’s sparkling… even if Ratchet isn’t here, I need to continue in his stead.”

“I understand. I look forward to having you in my company once more, Fyreant. Your expertise is extremely valuable. Ratchet would be proud of his pupil; you make a fine medic with that fiery passion.” Optimus nodded, acknowledging her resolve.

“And of course I’ll be going with her. Us gals need to stick together.” Ravebreaker announced, leaning down to the shorter femme and giving her a hug, grinning. “Can’t be without my medic, can I? Besides, Cybertron will be dying to hear my tunes once more; they don’t know how much they’ve missed this femme.”

“What about my medic?” Topspin whined, clearly not thrilled at this development, “My volleyball elbow! And my leg that locks up!”

“Go soak it in oil and stop playing slagging volleyball and do something else!” Fyreant snapped, tossing her servos up as she glared at him. “And for the last time: it’s tennis elbow, you wingnut!”

“That’s such a wussy name, and I don’t play no tennis! Simmons is wrong, I tell you.”

“Ugh, a week can’t come soon enough if I don’t die first from any more of this torture! You’re the worst patient!”

Hound let out a laugh he tried to disguise as a cough, turning away to pretend it was coughing fit that he blamed on his cy-gar under his breath. Crosshairs looked amused, grinning as he chewed his dentapick.

“Oh yeah, I’m goin’ to enjoy this.”

“I see why the young one wants to leave.” Drift observed to which Hot Rod nodded in agreement.

“Oui.”

“Autobots, today marks the start of our new mission. We shall gather our comrades and soon return to our home world in preparation for the new threat that lies beneath our feet. We will protect not only Cybertron but Earth as well, despite each’s faults. Together we will rebuild.”

“We’re with you, Optimus.” Bumblebee affirmed, nodding with conviction. “Always.”

“Thank you, my friend. Let us set forward to this dawn of a new age. An age of Cybertron’s rebirth and our people.” The imposing Transformer turned his attention toward the sky where the battered planet orbited, his blue optics serious. “It is time for this requiem’s end.”

#fandom #fan fiction #fanfic #fan fic #fandom writing #Transformers #Transformers fanfic #TF fanfic #tf5 #transformers the last knight #crosshairs #hound #drift #Hot Rod #Bumblebee #TF bumblebee #Optimus Prime #Topspin #Volleybot

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