#that outweighs the fact that masking up keeps people safe

[icarusxxrising]

Reasons to still be wearing a mask

- Disabled people deserve safety too

- Keeping your community safe

- Solidarity with Disabled people

- Because Covid isn't over just because the media stopped talking about it

- Masks are cool and help you shoplift

- Disabled people's lives matter

#I get it can be awkard being the only person with a mask but #that outweighs the fact that masking up keeps people safe #covid isn't over #covid 19 #disability #protect disabled communities #queer #anarchist #anarchy #leftism #leftist #anarchism #communist #lgbt #communism #socialism

[league-of-sam]

A Nightmare Encounter | Ghost x Reader

GhostxReaper Universe

Masterlist

Summary: Ghost was no stranger to nightmares, he had them every single time he closed his eyes. Never did he think that there’d be a day where it was someone else’s keeping him awake. t.w // angst, fluff, trauma, mentions of PTSD/mental health, bad language.

He should have been used to it by now.

It had been years since he’d last slept through the night, yet it never got easier. Ghost’s evenings were plagued with the horrors of his past, and most were spent in the dark staring at the ceiling until he got fed up with fighting to sleep.

But lately, things had been different.

It wasn’t his nightmares that were keeping him up, it was yours.

And instead of the ceiling, his eyes were locked on the wall that separated him from you.

Ghost lay on his side, one hand holding up his head. He’d switched his usual mask for his balaclava, comfort outweighing his desire for complete anonymity.

You’d been part of the 141 for barely a few weeks, and almost immediately the two of you butted heads, neither backing down to the point where you spent the days scowling at each other from across the room.

He knew it was driving the team crazy, but you were so fucking stubborn, always refusing to follow his orders and do as he asked. Sure, he appreciated the fact that you made his breakfast every morning, making sure the others were fed and well.

But at the end of the day, it was Ghost who was the lieutenant of the 141, not you.

You made him angrier than anyone else he’d ever encountered, and the fact that you still continued to try and engage with him despite his efforts to keep you at arm’s length infuriated him all the more.

He hated you.

Didn’t he?

Yet, there he was, lying awake at barely 3am, worry crawling over his skin as your sleeping whimpers and cries sounded just loud enough to travel to his ears.

He spent every night like this, listening to you weep as you dreamt, brows furrowed in confusion, because why did he care so much?

When people asked, he told them that his feelings toward you were simple; you weren’t good enough to keep his team, his family, safe. And the reason he knew that, was because he spent every night how he was now.

He knew how it was to be sleep deprived, be struggling. And without sleep, there was no way you could be alert enough to be a good soldier. There was no way-

Bang.

Ghost’s thoughts stopped, and he was already upright and his hand on the knife at his hip before he could even register what had happened.

Listening intently, he moved silently to his door as he heard you stumble from your bed clumsily, clamouring into the hallway and to the bathroom. Even in the darkness of the night, he didn’t miss the way the moon coming through the near window illuminated the tear stains on your cheeks.

It made his heart lurch painfully.

What ever had you hurting this much was no small thing.

That much was clear to him, and it almost made him feel some sort of guilt about the way he’d been treating you – almost.

He peered through the small gap he’d left in the door, watching as you re-emerged into the hallway and disappeared downstairs with impressively silent footsteps.

Seems fine. Ghost shrugged carelessly, turning back to his bed.

Yet, he left the door ajar. He swung the blade through his fingers, and he sat on the edge of his bed and counted the minutes.

For some moronic reason, it didn’t feel right to Ghost to go back to his pathetic slumber when he knew one of his soldiers was awake and troubled.

When he knew it was you who was awake and troubled.

And when you didn’t return to your room some twenty minutes later, Ghost hauled himself up with a grunt of annoyance and proceeded to creep downstairs, with every intention of disciplining you for being awake past curfew.

Fuckin’ women, never trust ‘em do anything.

He muttered to himself over and over, preparing the bollocking he had for you, but the sight before him erased any ill-feeling.

There you were, huddled in his- the armchair with a blanket around you, crying quietly, lips floating above your mug. The way your eyes fought to stay open, rapidly scanning the room, he knew exactly what had happened.

You looked terrified, as if you were reliving something over and over.

And he knew you were much more alert than you wanted to be, because you spotted him, looking away as quickly as you’d made eye contact.

As if he was something you were forbidden to look upon.

It brought a frown to his face, not that he’d ever admit it, because he’d realised just how much he’d been pushing you away.

And like that, any speech he had ready for you dissipated, any hatred he had moving through his blood was replaced with a worry; he’d even go as far as to say he was feeling sympathetic.

He felt sorry for you.

But he knew better.

He knew the last thing you needed right now was someone badgering you for answers, someone pushing to find out the truth of what had you so tormented.

He knew that, because it was always the one thing he never wanted to happen when he was in such despair – that’s why the mask stayed on.

What people couldn’t see, they couldn’t ask about.

So instead, he pulled out his own novel, one he’d read a thousand times over, and took the seat across from you wordlessly.

You didn’t speak, but he could feel you watching him - he could always feel you watching him. And he watched you too, he was just more subtle about it.

Because he always watched you.

Every time you looked back to your page, his eyes darted up, drinking in your shape, stealing every little detail he could before you turned a page, or took a sip of your tea, or glanced back to him again.

He analysed every little thing about you.

The way your legs were tucked neatly underneath your small frame, how the blanket wrapped around your shoulders threatened to slip off any second. The way your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you read something particularly intense.

The way your fingers curled around the book so delicately.

And fuck, did it make his cheeks burn ablaze every time your eyelashes fluttered toward him. And every time you blushed when he caught you staring, his heart jumped right out of his chest.

His mind raced, question after question biting at him, the repeated motion as repetitive and ferocious as piranhas on fresh flesh.

Why didn’t you get along?

Why had he been so awful to you?

Why were you so similar, yet so different?

Why, despite his outward display of hatred toward you, did you continue to try?

Fuck, why was it that every time you threw his words back at him with more venom, he wanted to do nothing but smash his lips against yours?

He continued to stare, the only thing pulling him from the trance you had him in was Price stumbling down the stairs.

Only then did Ghost register the faint song of birds, and the stream of light coming through the crack in the curtain behind you.

Despite your evident lack of sleep and swollen, tear-stained eyes, the glow of the early Mexican sun painted you into something almost ethereal.

A beautiful stranger.

He grunted a greeting to Price, electing to ignore the questioning looks he cast between you both.

As you both sat there, silent, the only sound being your Captain muttering to himself as he made his morning coffee in the kitchen, Ghost’s mind landed on one simple conclusion.

Maybe you were just as broken as he was.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #task force 141 #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost fanart #call of duty #cod mw oc #cod mw2 #cod mwf2 #callofduty #gaming #cod mw19 #captain price #john mactavish

[conservativetradlife]

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, so I’m going to be candid with you all, because I feel like this is an undiscussed issue that needs to be talked about.

Am I the only parent/person who feels like online classes for their children are incredibly obtrusive? 

My province is currently undergoing a tight lockdown period again due to world events and students have been pulled out of their daily routines to attend online classes. Last year this happened, due to my terrible internet, I informed the teacher that online classes were unable to be had in my home (as my internet refuses to load ZOOM and all the devices I currently own are incredibly old and consistently ornery with loading live video feeds - generally not loading, period.) 

I ended up received some unsettling texts from my daughters teacher in the evening about missing my daughter, and wanting to speak with her due to missing her so much (at nine in the evening?) and it confirmed to me that this was not something I wanted to involve my child in, and I explained as much to the principal at my daughters school. With the new year and new restrictions in place for health safety, I had hoped this was done and over with. 

Now my daughters teacher calls my home number at least twice weekly to nag about picking up her device at the school as well now as an internet hotspot to ensure that she can attend online classes. It’s been a constant push and I am growing incredibly tired and overwhelmed of my lack of say in this matter. 

I have anxiety, its not something I’m glorifying, but rather using as a tool to explain the thought processes behind why I find this pestering so frustrating. 

Her classes are expected to begin at eight in the morning and continue until three in the afternoon, with the camera and microphone on throughout. As it stands we are in the process of preparing for baby, as well as hoping to find a place to move for more space. Our home is cluttered, it can be unkempt, I have pets who roam around and can be chatty and my partner is not shy in his listening material while he’s getting ready for work, or returning during the day.

I feel as though I will be put under the microscope, my home-keeping scrutinized, my state of dress questioned, the things said under observation. 

I feel as though I will be needing to silence myself and my home during class because of the opinions of those forced upon me due to this teachers persistence. If I knew my child could stay on task during class, I would set her up with a laptop in her room, but given I know her penchant for becoming distracted and browsing the internet at her leisure, that is not going to be an option. I don’t believe in allowing my child free access to the internet at the say so of a teacher.

Why are the comfort levels of the parents not being taken into consideration? I don’t have the space or trust to know my daughter will stay on the task that she’s assigned (as has been a problem in person as well.) When a parent puts their foot down and says no, why does that mean they are terrible for denying their child an education, when it comes down to not wanting to a 1984 situation present in their home life? 

We’re already being monitored when we leave the house (”wear a mask” “social distancing” “non-essential items can’t be bought unless its for online pick up” “vaccine passports”) and now its extending to the home as well? When is ‘enough’ enough? 

I should be allowed to say “No. I’m not comfortable with this. If there are worksheets available and projects to be done that can be emailed that is fine. But being bullied into my child being on live camera in my home for the majority of my day is not something I’m okay with.” I am her parent, this is my home. My care and understanding of her needs far outweighs that of her teacher as far as I am concerned. I’m incredibly frustrated with how being anything but compliant with these rule sets and expectations are viewed as wrong or problematic.

A vaccine that has multiple sources with a myriad of problems linked to it being demanded upon the populace under threat of expulsion or punishment. Curfews in place, businesses closed down and items monitored for appropriate sale (alcoholics can buy alcohol but I can’t buy clothing or shoes for my growing children?) Fines being issued when ones outdoor goings on aren’t deemed ‘allowed’ by authority. Play areas cut off, meeting family and friends safe guarded, Hospital’s deemed a cesspool of infection and unsafe to go to for ailments, OB appointments and ultrasounds only being accessible to the mother. Places of worship being shut down and denied access to? When does it end?

I feel as though I’m stuck complying again and again with rules that haven’t gotten us anywhere. Where the blame is being shifted to the fact that our liberties weren’t crushed into paste sooner - before we got to this point. 

I feel as though I have no say in my life at this point - I can’t buy food items when I want to, lest I am out too many times against orders, I can’t buy ‘non-essentials’ (which include clothing items for my growing body, my children’s growing bodies or items to prepare for the coming of my infant - which under most circumstances would require being tried on or tested) unless its bought online. I can’t share in the joy of my pregnancy with family - those who want to touch my belly or see my progress in person. I can’t share in the excitement of our child’s growth with my husband because he isn’t allowed to attend ultrasounds and only gets second hand accounts of my well being and our baby’s growth - in fact, my OB has questioned if he will even be allowed to be present during the birth. I am expected to normalize a vaccine I don’t trust being put into my body, despite knowing the side effects that come with it, else I am ostracized by my peers for not getting it, when life won’t change due to having it. I will still be expected to stay at home, social distance, wear a mask when I am outdoors or shopping.

Now I’m expected to open my safe haven, my home, to the eyes of strangers and I can’t say no because no isn’t an answer that is being accepted. My comfort is secondary to the push of a teacher. I’m fed up, I’m tired. I want to tell the teacher to shove it, rather than normalizing this shit show any more.

I don’t even know where to go from here. I have no doubt that I’m going to be torn to shreds by people arguing that my views are why we are here in the first place. I’m tired of people rolling over and saying ‘this is fine’ to every order that’s placed before them without looking into what’s being taken from you in the first place. It started as ‘two weeks to flatten the curve’ and now we’re over a year past and more and more is being asked of us. I’m sick and tired of it.

When are we ever going to go back to normal. Is there a normal to go back to?

[pandoraborn]

Cruelty of the Beast - Part 11

( previous. )

Characters: c!Dream, c!Tommy, c!Techno, c!Phil Word count: 2398 words Content: hostages, kidnapping, manipulation mention, brainwashing mention, betrayal, acceptance, bonding,

-----

“I don’t understand, why couldn’t I have gone with Wilbur?” Tommy grips the crossbow tightly as he follows Dream. He looks back over his shoulder as the portal they’d come through is washed out by the falling snow. He doesn’t like where he is, he doesn’t like where they’re going, and he especially doesn’t like that he and Ranboo have been separated again.

“Because yours and Ranboo’s little stunt set us back, and we don’t have time to gather what we need, so we’re going to get help,” comes Dream’s curt reply.

Above all else, Tommy really doesn’t care for how snarky the man is.

He’s coming to accept that Dream is a man, slowly. He’s coming to accept that the tall, blond man is not a god, just a pathetic loser who’d dabbled in powers he shouldn’t have been messing with. With this mindset, Tommy can almost tolerate him. Without his mask, he looks no more intimidating than Tubbo.

They’re both armed with crossbows and heavy jackets. Tommy’s hair is now almost as long as Dream’s, and both have their hair pulled back in tight ponytails. It had been Wilbur’s idea. The idea of them looking similar doesn’t disgust Tommy as much as it should; maybe he’s grown too used to being around Dream.

“By help, you mean we’re taking hostages,” Tommy replies. “This isn’t a good idea, they could easily kill us.”

Dream stops, turning around to face Tommy. There’s a tight-lipped smile on his face, and his eyes crinkle with amusement. “Tommy, why on earth would they kill us? They like us, remember?”

“You. They like you,” Tommy corrects. “They made it rather clear they detest me.”

Dream snorts. “Everyone always says they hate someone, but deep down inside, we all cherish the moments when we were all friends.”

“If you’re talking about you and me, I was never your friend. I was always your toy.” Tommy scowls. “You say you’re okay with me hating you, but you never actually address why that is.”

Dream seems to study him for a moment. The grin fades, and his eyes droop. Tommy can’t tell what that expression means, but Dream’s turning away again, head bowing forward. He starts walking again, with Tommy hurrying to keep up.

“I made mistakes, Tommy. I made a lot of mistakes that I regret. You were one of them.”

“I’m not anyone’s toy, you know.” Tommy lowers the crossbow, tapping his fingers against the wood. “Not yours, not even Wilbur’s. I’m my own man, and I deserved way better than anyone gave me.”

“You did. I can say all I want that it was yours and Ranboo’s stunt that got us in this position, but really, I just wanted to get a moment alone with you. Wilbur’s had you on a leash.”

His hand snakes out and grips Dream’s jacket, yanking firmly. Fingers grip the man hard enough that his hand starts to ache. Tommy glares at Dream, bottom lip trembling. “Let me repeat myself, Clay. I’m not anyone’s toy. I’m not attached to anyone’s fucking leash. If you had trouble getting me away from Wilbur, it was because I wanted to stay by his side, because he’s more safe than you are.”

“Let go of me.”

“No, I want you to fucking listen to me for once. I have had it with being used and manipulated. I am so sick and tired of being everyone’s pawn in whatever game you’re all playing. Don’t think for a second that any of you are using me. I’m with Wilbur and Ranboo because I want to be. I could have run off at any time I wanted, and none of you could’ve stopped me. I want to end whatever miserable existence I have because I’m tired.”

“Tommy-”

Tommy lets go of the jacket, but he’s grabbing at Dream’s wrist next to hold him in place. “And maybe you’re right, I don’t actually hate you. I hate what you’ve become though. Arrogant, maniacal, playing around with death and life like it also is your personal toy.

”I’ll accept a dragon, I’ll accept this apocalypse you’re all planning. Maybe deep down inside, I want it too. Not because I hate the world, but because I have nothing left to live for, and that’s all your fault.” With those words, he turns and marches toward the tundra cabin he’s starting to loathe.

“I never meant to break you.”

“Yeah, well, you did. Over and over again. I think I’ve suffered enough, don’t you think?”

“That’s why we want this. None of us are whole anymore.” Dream’s voice is barely a whisper against the rising wind. The snow is falling harder, turning Tommy’s ears red and numb with cold. He can see his breath more vividly, and a part of him wonders if this is just a sign of what’s to come.

He’s about to massively betray Technoblade and Philza.

“You get it though, don’t you?” Dream continues. “Wilbur lost himself to paranoia, Ranboo lost himself to forgotten memories, I lost myself to hubris and you...”

“I’m still lost,” Tommy replies. “It’s a neverending cycle of pain and hurt and betrayal. I’m just cementing the opinion that I’m the bad guy in everyone’s minds.” He nods in the direction of the cabin. “If he threatens me-”

“Then I’ll protect you.”

It’s not something he’d expected to hear from Dream. He still hasn’t heard any sort of apology, just more excuses. But he’s starting to see Dream in a new light. Minutes ago he’d been coming to terms with the fact that Dream is only a man, but now he wonders if he’d been too clouded by his own pain to really see Dream.

Or maybe he’s just growing stupid because of the cold.

Snorting, Tommy shakes his head. “I have a crossbow, I don’t need your help. Thanks for the offer, but your ‘protection’ is why we’re here to begin with.”

“It was you and Ranboo drugging us that brought us here. You both could have just asked, you know.” Dream laughs. “I wouldn’t have said no.”

“Well I guess Ranboo doesn’t trust you either then,” Tommy chirps. A grin spreads across his face when Dream stumbles forward, swearing under his breath. He catches himself and continues walking until the cabin is appearing in their view.

“I know you want to hear an ‘I’m sorry’,” Dream says, reaching back to grip Tommy’s shoulder. “But that wouldn’t make up for everything that happened. “So here’s what I’m going to do instead: I’m going to make sure we make it out of this in one piece and unharmed. We just need temporary help. Now go up there and-”

“Wait, you’re not coming with me?” Tommy jerks back. “You’re seriously going to make me talk to them alone?”

“You want to prove yourself to Wilbur, don’t you?”

“We just had this conversation about manipulation,” Tommy growls. “Don’t do this.”

“I’m not manipulating you. I’m asking you a genuine question, since you’re so attached to your brother. Do you want to prove you can do this? Because if you don’t want this, you can go back to the taiga and prepare the tnt with the others, I can do this on my own.”

He stares for a moment. That offer does sound tempting, but so does seeing Techno. It won’t be on the best terms, but...

Standing up for himself is outweighing everything else.

“Alright, so what exactly do we need from them?”

“Them. Their supplies.”

“Great.” Tommy rolls his eyes as he brushes snow off his face. “More kidnapping. As if kidnapping me wasn’t enough.”

“You were more or less willing. I promise Phil and Techno won’t be. Which is why I gave you a weapon. Can you do this or do you want to head back?”

“No, I’ll do it.” He grips the crossbow tightly again and marches forward, leaving Dream behind, next to a tree. He’s trembling with anxiety, but he can’t back down now. Everything over the past several days had been leading up to him betraying people for some dragon.

Gods, that dragon had been cool, though.

Knocking on the door, he fidgets in place while waiting for a response, It comes seconds later in the form of Phil answering the door. Phil looks surprised to see Tommy aiming the crossbow at him.

“What are you doing?” Phil asks, stepping back.

“Hi Phil.” Tommy tries to keep his voice casual. It doesn’t work, as it cracks. “Miss me?”

“Word on the street is you’ve been kidnapped,” Phil says. “By Wilbur. How is he alive? How are you alive? We all thought you were dead.”

“I was,” Tommy says. “Then I was alive again, with Wilbur. Thanks to Dream.”

“Phil? What’s happening, who are you talking t-” Techno’s voice comes from above. There’s the sound of footsteps on a ladder before the pig’s feet come into view, followed by the rest of him. “Tommy?”

“Hey, Techno.” Tommy’s trying really hard now not to falter. Part of him wants to rush into Techno’s arms for a hug, but he remains rooted in place. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“What are you doing?” Techno asks. “Put that down!”

“No. In fact, I want you both to come with me,” he continues. “Actually, I want you to pack all your things up first, then come with me.”

“He said something about Dream,” Philza explains to Techno. The pig nods as if he understands, then shakes his head.

“No, Tommy was dead. He’s supposed to be dead. You’re supposed to be dead, along with Wilbur. How are you here? Where’s Wilbur? Why are you showing up with a crossbow?”

“Things have changed,” Tommy mutters, looking down. He’s losing his resolve; he can’t actually do this. He cares about them too much. “Things are so much different than before, and I can’t tell you what, but you just have to trust-”

“Trust you?” Phil laughs. “We did trust you once, until you turned your back on Techno. Now you show up after being dead, or kidnapped, aiming a crossbow at us, and you expect us to believe anything you have to say? You know better, Tommy. You’re supposed to be better.”

“I do know better!” Tommy snaps. “I know better than anyone what shit feels like, alright? That’s why I’m here, because you two are the most well-stocked people around, you have more shit that could be useful for us to do something big.”

“Tommy.” Techno’s voice is softer than Phil’s. “Tommy, put the crossbow down and come inside. We can talk about this, we can go over everything, and maybe-”

“I’m afraid he can’t do that.” There’s a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. The teen flinches when he realizes Dream had finally stepped in. “See, Techno, Phil? He’s with me.”

Oh.

For a few seconds, not even the winds are heard over the deafening silence. Tommy can see the way Techno is trying to work out the statement and what it actually means. There’s confusion, followed by anger, followed by resignation. The last expression hurts the most, because it means there really is no going back and fixing things.

“You’re calling in that favor, aren’t you?” Techno asks. “You’re using Tommy to get me to comply.”

The warning shot is fired in between the two men in the doorway, hitting a far wall. Everyone jumps before turning to stare at Tommy in shock over his sudden action. “Let’s get one thing straight,” Tommy practically yells. “I’m no one’s, no one’s fucking pawn anymore! Everyone can shit on me all they want, but I’m finally taking my life back! For once I’m where I want to be, and no one can stop me!”

Techno and Phil hold their arms up at the same time, stepping back to give room for the other pair to enter the cabin. “Okay, okay,” Phil says softly. “What do you need from us, how are we helping?”

“Depends, you want to see Wilbur again, don’t you?” Dream is back to looking confident. “Wilbur’s in great condition, by the way. He’s actually the one calling all the shots, so if you have a problem with our current venture, you can file a complaint with him.”

“Do you have them brainwashed?” Leave it to Techno to be blunt.

“No. In fact, Tommy was bitching at me the whole way here,” Dream chirps, ruffling Tommy’s hair. “He’s been doing nothing but tell me I’m an awful person for days. He really meant it when he said he likes it with us.”

“If you’re in trouble, blink twice,” Techno faces Tommy. There’s a grimace on his face, as if he’s trying to smile, but it’s not quite working. “I’m serious, we’ve got ender pearls and swords and so many other things, we can slay him-”

“Don’t touch Dream,” the teen instructs. “He’s on his last life, remember?” The crossbow is waved toward the chests. “But we do want the ender pearls and weapons and potion ingredients.” Tommy smiles sweetly. “And you two, of course. And food.”

There’s no more snark. Phil and Techno are packing silently, moving up and down ladders and throwing everything they can hold into sacks and backpacks. Tommy watches them for a moment before turning back to Dream.

“I feel like shit,” Tommy admits.

“Yeah, me too.” Dream presses his hand to Tommy’s shoulder again as they head back outside. “I like Techno. But some things have to be done.”

“Does being a villain get any easier? Like, do you get used to it?”

“Honestly? No. It’s always shit. Especially when you have attachments and can’t fully get rid of them. I tried, but I just really wanted to pretend I wasn’t hurting the people I loved.”

“Cause I still love them,” Tommy mumbles. “And I’m hurting them.”

“It’ll get better soon, I promise.”

Phil and Techno eventually come outside. They stare at each other before moving foward, falling into step behind Tommy and Dream. There’s a heavy silence weighing in between all of them as they move back toward the portal.

“Oh, Tommy?” Dream breaks the silence.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry, for everything.”

Tommy nods, liffting one foot to rest against the edge of the portal. He turns away from the swirling purple to give Dream a genuine smile. His first one aimed at Dream, in months.

“I know. Thank you.”

#dream smp #dream smp fanfiction #dark!au #technoblade #dreamwastaken #philza #tommyinnit #cruelty of the beast #cruelty of the beast ch.11 #hostage #kidnaping #manipulation mention #brainwashing mention #betrayal #acceptance #apologies #dream finally apologizes to tommy #bonding #long post #miishae writes

[cycles-of-rain]

That’s understandable.

-C spoke shortly, keeping in mind Gunpowder’s opinion about that theme. There was a possibility of this world being this way and with a purpose, maybe even because it forms part of the story, though it could be considered magic if people think that it is magic if C is right about that. Either way, there was a high possibility of this world’s rules to remain the same. “So bats and deers are safe to stay near them.. Got it.” C thought while he did a few soft taps to the right side of his mask, listening to him. And when he heard that question, C took that moment to analyze his tone, or at least to keep in mind how others would feel about it before he nodded.-

Unfortunately, yes. Most of the beings in other worlds are able to have one life instead of having the possibility to respawn or anything close to that after their death. However, it can be upsetting to them if they lose someone close to them due to that fact.

-It was all C had to comment about that, even if it was kind of tempting to add something about the ‘immortal’ creatures. C then continued listening to Gunpowder in silence, now that was a problem..but luckily enough, there should be more ways to get to that place with the lizard being fine.-

Is there any other way you know that we can take? One that doesn’t have water?

-C asked Gunpowder, as he was checking if there’s a safer way for the lizard to be able to follow them. C also thought that it would be best for the lizard to follow them instead of staying alone or going somewhere alone, even though there was a possibility of her being fine.-

:Wow… sounds kinda nice.: Even if they had to deal with that, it had to be better than dying over and over right? They could get out, they didn’t have to suffer through cycles and cycles of being cut in half or drowning or getting their head bitten off. They had one moment of pain and then it was over. They could just… dissolve… into the nothingness of nonexistence. In his opinion the good parts outweighed the bad.

He shook his head. :Nope. Though if we go through shaded there’s only a small stretch of it. She’s gone that route before, even if she dislikes the water she likes Orbit enough that it makes up for it.: The lizard snapped her jaws happily, wiggling a bit. :Heheh, yeah I know star’s pretty great.: He pet her on the head idly. :Anyways our best bet is definitely shaded. Should we start going?:

#explosives expert | gunpowder #lizard friend | plum #a pleasant day | ask #like those long gone | anon

[bonsaiiiiiii]

Short Kayo Fic: Limits

(Made at 3am, while watching the grasshopper jumping from the ceiling to my bed. Feel free to tag everyone that is a Kayo stan, and hope you enjoy this!)

Kayo continued to train, kicking and repeatedly beating the punching bag that had met her sight; she had not eaten since she entered the training room, so 8 hours, apart from a quick coffee taken in the morning. Her stomach was protesting loudly, but she tried to ignore the discomfort that had presented itself.

She was throwing a high kick at the bag, but when she put her foot back on the ground she posed it badly, causing the foot to bend abruptly to one side. Kayo instinctively sat on the floor, moaning in pain, immediately trying to touch her ankle. She immediately looked around, and sighed with relief to see that no one had come to her aid. Had she screamed? Maybe it didn’t happen.

But just when she thought she was safe from concerned looks and stern voices, Gordon’s face appeared in her field of vision, right from the living room. Quickly, Kayo changed position, although it hurt very much, hiding the sprained ankle with the other leg. Gordon did not seem to notice.

"Ehy, Kayo! What are you doing?"

"I’m training." she replied, trying to keep the calmest tone of voice as possible.

"Yeah, I mean, what are you doing on the floor?"

"Oh, nothing! I was resting after a bit of training."

"Okay...but the bench is almost attached to you." Gordon replied, directing his eyes to the bench on Kayo’s right, nodding with his head as if to make her look at it. "Why are you sitting on the floor if you can sit there?"

"..." Kayo took a few seconds to find something to replicate. "It’s cooler on the ground." Something to her left had caught her attention. "And then, I have the water closest to me! Drinking it on the ground is more effective, you quench better."

Gordon raised his eyebrows, halfway between the confused and the suspicious, but preferred not to say anything. "Okay, whatever," he said, "I’ll leave you to drink on the ground. Make sure you’re there for dinner, since you didn’t show up for lunch, or Grandma will come and take you by force."

Kayo laughed a little. "Don’t worry, I’ve finished training for the day. I’ll finish setting up here and then I’ll go up and take a shower too."

"All right." Kayo tried to mask a smile of relief, but her relief lasted little when he added "Do you want me to accompany you?"

"Uh, there’s no need, really! You go back up."

"I’ll wait for you up then." he insisted, smiling, going out and going upstairs.

Kayo put her hand through her hair, almost desperate. Could she have walked normally? Did Gordon get suspicious? And these were just two of the many questions that buzzed in her head. She tried to get up, remembering the ankle pain again.

Kayo was normally a person with a very high pain threshold, so injuries of any type never caused her any problems; this sprained ankle did, though. Perhaps it was because I am anxious, it must surely be so, she tried to convince herself mentally once he stood. Fortunately, today she wore long leggings and closed shoes; at least the ankle would not be noticed much, unless a careful eye would look at that precise point, or that someone was particularly interested in that point.

Like Gordon.

She tried not to think about it, and began to take a few steps in a circle, to try to put her foot as far as possible on the ground and avoid limping. Once she realized he could walk more or less normally, she took a deep breath, leaving the training room. She faced the stairs as fast as she could, hoping that Gordon would get bored and leave, but instead he was still there, waiting for her with his arms crossed and a smiling face, but rather bored.

As he saw her, he came to her, jumping down the stairs. "What took you so long? I was going to grow roots in waiting!"

"I told you, I had to set up."

"Well, I don’t know, it doesn’t take me that long to set up when I’m training," he said jumping up the stairs and then coming back to her. He looked like a glass of sparkling wine in which a lump of sugar had been dipped, so lively he was that day. Or perhaps impatient.

"But I do. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a shower."

"Please, don’t let me disturb you." answered Gordon smiling, to then wave goodbye and head for the pool.(Where else, duh?)

Kayo returned the salute smiling, but then her smile turned into a grimace of pain. She turned her heels and set off as quickly as possible to her room.

The days passed quickly, between one mission and another, between one training session and the other, between an activity and the other. And Kayo was always in the practice room. She ignored the fact that her ankle hurt, and she kept training more and more. Of course, she didn’t use her sprained foot to kick; she was reckless, yes, but not stupid, and she knew when to use her foot and when not.

Her ankle had worsened; it had changed to a purplish-like color, good enough to look at, but worrying if it was to be seen on her ankle. It had also swelled a lot, so the best solution that Kayo was able to find in those few days was to bandage the entire ankle, so that it was noticed as little as possible. And to make sure that the bandaging was noticeable as little as possible, she always wore long trousers, and she seemed to believe that this method worked, as no one looked at her strangely or stopped her.

Gordon didn’t seem to notice her ankle the day he sprained it, so she did her job, which was to continue training for a new mission.

She had just finished dressing after a long shower when she heard an emergency call from the living room.

"Guys, we have a situation. We need Kayo for this mission."

"Here I am, John. What’s the situation?"

"The GDF has noticed suspicious activity in an organization they’re allied with, and they want you to oversee it. Can you be there?"

"Sure, I’ll go get ready right away."

"Remember Kayo, we talked about it. If you see that the situation is getting dangerous, get out of there. And don’t hit anyone."

"All right, I’ll try." Kayo sighed back, then headed to the launch pad for Thunderbird Shadow.

"Kayo?" Grandma Tracy called her, making her stop in the middle of the living room.

She turned around. "Yes?"

"I want to see your left ankle."

What? "What? Why?"

"Why do you care so much? I just want to check something out. I don’t think you have anything to hide, do you?"

She knows everything. And how long has she known? Why didn’t she stop her before? "No..."

If she refused to show her the ankle, the others would know that she was hiding something. So she slowly lifted his pants, revealing the band. She pretended that other people’s jolts did not exist and with trembling hands decided to discover the ankle, swollen and purple.

A couple of voices asked her questions, but Scott’s voice outweighed the others. "What is this?! Why didn’t you tell us anything?"

Kayo stood up almost suddenly. "Because there is no need! I’m fine! If it was serious I would have told you!"

"I think not! Have you seen the condition of your ankle?! John, report to the GDF that Kayo won’t be able to-"

"What are you doing?" Kayo interrupted him. "I’m going! John, don’t report anything!"

"Why won’t you understand your limits?!" Scott Tracy’s eyes were among the most beautiful Kayo had ever seen. They were of a blue that transmitted an infinite depth and calm. But now, all she could see inside his irises was a gray storm, as if lightning could come out of Scott’s eyes and electrocute her at any moment.

However, this did not stop her at all. "Because I know what my limits are! I know when my body is at its limit, and I can assure you that I am VERY far away!"

"You say that because for you the limit is to fall to the ground collapsed! This is not good! This must not be your limit!"

"Enough, Scott." Grandma raised her voice a little, so that she would overwhelm those of the two who were arguing at the time. She approached him and put her hands on his arm, almost gently. "I don’t think there’s a need to scream. If Kayo wants to go on a mission, let her go. None of us have to stop her."

"WHAT?!" Both Kayo and Scott screamed, the first confused and surprised, and the second incredulous. "Grandma, you don’t want to send Kayo on a mission like that?! Are you crazy?"

"Watch out with the words." Grandma warned him seriously.

"Sorry, it slipped out."

"I really want to send her that way. If she says she’s fine despite that huge lump, I don’t see any problem sending her on a mission."

"I don’t approve, Grandma." Virgil interfered, visibly worried. "In those conditions she can’t do much..."

"I do. Go Kayo, go on your mission." Grandma turned to her with a smile. Kayo looked at her strangely. Not only did Grandma -apparently- defend her, but she also insisted that she had to go on mission. But even though she smiled at her, he had a look...a malicious one, like she expected something out of her.

Kayo shook her head as if to drive these thoughts away, heading to the launch pad to accomplish her mission.

○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Kayo awoke shortly after, and the first thing she saw was the white ceiling. She raised her eyebrows, confused; where was she? She tried to get up, but a voice made her stay on the cot where she was lying.

"Don’t worry. You’re home." that was Virgil’s voice.

"What happened?" she asked him with a trembling voice.

"You collapsed when you came home. Scott is furious with you."

"He’ll get over it."

"So it wasn’t true that you had not yet reached your limit."

Kayo sighed, carrying an hand istinctively to her ankle. "Yeah."

#Thunderbirds Are Go #Thunderbirds Are Go Fanfic #Kayo Kyrano #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #John Tracy #Alan isn't there aaa #Grandma Tracy #Short Fic

[fandomfanfics12]

For Blue, Blue Skies-Part 3

Title: For Blue, Blue Skies Pairings: Steve x tony Part: 3/5 Warnings: swearing, bullying, abuse (physical and verbal), blood, angst, fluff. Summary: Steve was sure he’d aced his latest test in his forensics class but as it turns out, Professor Fury failed almost everyone. In order to get extra credit Steve and his friends join a program that Fury called The Avengers to deal with a bullying problem at the nearby high school. Hidden behind the glitz and glamour of his father’s money, most people can’t see that Tony Stark’s life is a nightmare. All Tony wants is to get out of this hellish school as quickly as possible and get as far away from his abusive father as soon as possible. A/N: Tag list is open if you want to be tagged, next part should be up sometime in the next week. hope you enjoy!

Part 1, Part 2

That afternoon Tony nervously made his way to the Shwarma place that Bruce had told him to go to. He was just down the street from it but he was overcome with nerves suddenly. His body ached and he knew he should take care of himself, go to a doctor or tell the school about what was going on. But Howard had a lot of money and therefore a lot of power and Tony knew it wasn’t worth the risk. Tony didn’t want to go home, but he couldn’t risk another night in the park either. He needed to figure something out. Bruce is a nice kid, he’s not pulling a prank. Tony told himself but wasn’t comforted by that, his anxiety outweighed the logic. He was about to turn around and go home when he saw Steve, coming down the other end of the street and going inside the Shwarma place. It eased all of Tony’s anxieties because Steve needed to do well to get extra credit, he would be participating in some insidious prank. Tony forced his feet to move, his hands to stop shaking and made himself step inside. he spotted Steve, heading towards a table in the back where two other college students and Bruce all sat. they were all huddled around a stack of papers, notebooks and textbooks. They’re studying.

Tony was overcome with a sense of relief knowing that Bruce really truly wasn’t pranking him and had been serious about doing a study group. With newfound confidence he crossed the room, following Steve and hoping that maybe he could make a friend out of Bruce, maybe he could have someone who cared about him.

-

Steve sat down, pulling his textbook out of his bag, Bruce was in a deep conversation with Natasha and Bucky.

“about time.” Bucky grumbled to him when Bruce paused but then focused back on what Bruce was saying. Nat glanced at him and he offered her a half smile, she just playfully rolled her eyes and also focused back on what Bruce was saying. Steve glanced at the restaurant and noticed that none other than Tony Stark was walking towards them. He gave Steve a nervous smile which put a flutter in Steve’s stomach. Steve didn’t like that, this snobby rich kid had no place in his stomach, he wasn’t allowed to give Steve butterflies. Not like that. He thought to himself and then Bruce looked up, his whole face brightening.

“You made it!” he grinned and Steve frowned. He was overcome with the desire to protect Bruce, Tony was a bully and he couldn’t be trusted. Tony was just using Bruce for his own personal gain. Steve needed to figure out a way of warning Bruce before Tony used him today.

“What are you doing here?” Steve demanded and the smile slipped off of Tony’s face, a flash of hurt and disappointment in his eyes and then a stoic mask of neutrality.

“Bruce invited me.” Tony said as he sat down in the booth across from Steve. Steve realised that the other three had fallen silent, watching the two of them in interest.

“Last time I checked you weren’t in Professor Fury’s class.” Steve tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. Bucky cleared his throat but Tony and Steve didn’t dare break eye contact. In this lighting, his eyes looked more like a molten gold than their usual chocolate orbs.

-

Steve’s eyes were so fucking blue that it was actually ridiculous. They were an ice blue, cold and hard and unforgiving. Tony swallowed suddenly feeling like he was being put on trial for murder.

“Steve?” the girl asked but still they maintained eye contact. Tony knew he was supposed to say something but his brain was short circuiting. Even though Steve was an ass, Tony could acknowledge that he was pretty. The kind of pretty that made his heart ache, and seeing him in his leather jacked was doing weird things to his heart, making his brain go all fuzzy. He’s an asshole, remember? And that seemed to snap Tony out of it. because Steve hated Tony just as much as everyone else did.

“Bruce just said it was a study group, he didn’t say what it was for.” Tony said, forcing himself to look away from Steve and turn his attention to Bruce who had a single brow raised.

“I thought with that big brain of yours you’d be able to help. Or I could help you out with Miss Hill’s assignment?” Bruce offered and Tony nodded, glad he had the right books in his bag. He could still feel Steve watching him, glaring at him. His eyes were narrowed and his brows furrowed, creating a little crease in his forehead. Tony wanted to know what he’d done to offend Steve so badly, was their one and only conversation really so terrible? Did Steve really hate him so much already? Tony just grabbed Steve’s homework and took a look at it, reading over the notes Steve had made in his slanted handwriting.

“I think you’re overthinking it.” Tony said and when he risked a glance at Steve the guy looked pretty pissed off.

“Oh really?” Tony nodded, he was detailed but it was so detailed that the facts were lost in irrelevant pieces. Mercifully, Bruce had started talking to the girl and the guy, leaving Steve and Tony to their own devices. So Tony launched into his own explanation, going over Steve’s work and he kept waiting for Steve to explode, to yell at him or make some mean remark. But eventually Steve seemed to relax a little, deep in thought as Tony spoke, his face softening and the crease in his forehead vanishing from sight.

-

Steve hated to admit it but Tony really knew what he was talking about. His instructions were clear and detailed and Steve finally found himself understanding where he’d gone wrong. the hours ticked  by and at some point it had started raining outside. When Steve asked questions Tony would explain it until Steve properly understood the content, and then Steve started to feel bad for judging Tony so harshly. His immediate response had been to think that Tony was just going to use Bruce, but he was actually helping Steve. Even though Steve had been an asshole towards him. He hadn’t earned Tony’s help, and yet here he was receiving it. it was starting to get late and Steve’s stomach growled, the longing of leftover food at home filled him. His back was also starting to ache from sitting in this booth for so long.

“should we call it for the night?” Nat asked after Bruce yawned and the everyone other than Tony nodded.

“Sure.” He said once everyone stared at him for a long moment. Nerves curdled in Steve’s gut, had Tony had some elaborate plan for tonight? Was he planning on doing something to Bruce? Steve stood up and shoved his books into his bag, glancing at Tony suspiciously.

“thanks for the help Bruce.” Bucky said and Bruce nodded, Steve glanced to Tony and bit his lip. Was he supposed to thank him? What if he had some horribly awful plan awaiting Bruce? Some sinister plot that could damage the sweet nerdy kid?

“Thanks.” Steve said after too long a pause, his mother had raised him to be polite, even when Steve was reluctant to be so. Tony just nodded, tugging the worn hoodie sleeves down his hands and moving so Bruce could get out of the booth.

“Anytime.” Tony said but his voice was shaking.

“Are you alright?” Bruce asked and Tony nodded, his hands balled into fists.

“fine.” His voice tight now.

-

They were all staring and he was just trying to stop the oncoming panic attack. Howard would be waiting for him, he’d be pissed that Tony hadn’t come home all afternoon. Tony was screwed, he just knew it.

“Buck, Nat, do you guys mind walking Bruce home?” Steve said and the two of them nodded, finally Tony had names to the faces and he tried to focus on that detail rather than the impending doom that awaited him.

“what about you?” Bruce asked and Steve scratched the back of his head.

“Tony’s a scrawny kid, I want to make sure he gets home safely.” Tony almost snorted, as if the walk home was the worst thing that awaited him tonight.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to.” Tony said but Steve just shrugged.

“it’d make me feel better knowing you got home safely, besides it’s the least I can do after you helped me all afternoon.” Tony hesitated but nodded, maybe he could invite Steve in and keep him around for a while longer. Howard wouldn’t try something with a guest present, right?

“Okay.” His voice was barely above a whisper but no one argued then. So tony picked up his bag, said goodbye and then stepped back out onto the street, Steve beside him.

“you really don’t have to do this Steve.” Tony said when they were still standing there, neither moving and neither looking at one another. Both boys just stared down at the concrete ground.

“it’s honestly fine Tony, which way do we go?” he looked up and Tony met Steve’s eyes. His throat constricted so he just began walking and Steve fell into step beside him. The rain had mercifully stopped but there was an awful chill wind that breezed through Tony’s jumper like it wasn’t there at all. It wasn’t five minutes before he started shivering. If they had been talking, Steve wouldn’t have noticed. But they were silent and the sound of Tony’s teeth chattering together filled the silence that stretched between the two of them.

“Hang on.” Steve stopped and Tony did to, and then Steve was shrugging out of his leather jacket to reveal very large biceps that made Tony swallow. Why is he so fucking pretty? Tony wondered and then realised Steve was holding out his jacket.

“huh?” Tony said because his brain didn’t know how to function when Steve was being nice.

“you’re freezing and I was starting to melt in it anyway.” He reached out further, and Tony’s hands fumbled as he took it.

“oh, uh, umm, thanks?” Steve looked down at the ground and scratched the back of his neck as Tony shrugged the jacket on.

-

When Steve looked up he saw just how much his leather jacket swallowed Tony up and his heart stopped. His brain malfunctioned and his brows rose as his jaw fell open slightly. Tony, thankfully, wasn’t looking at him but was picking up his backpack again and then drawing Steve’s jacket tighter around him. He started walking again and it took Steve a moment to comprehend that he was supposed to follow him.

“So what do you want to do when high school is over?” Steve asked just so he could focus on a normal conversation rather than how good Tony looked in his jacket.

-

Tony couldn’t believe how warm the jacket was and it took him a long moment to understand that Steve had spoken.

“oh, uh, I want to go to college.”

“which one?”

“MIT, that’s if I can get in. the guidance counsellor thinks I’ve got the grades for it.”

“That’s far from here isn’t it?” Steve asked and Tony nodded, shoving his hands into the jacket pockets.

“That’s partially why I want to go.” to get away from Howard, even if it only was four hours away.

“I have a question.” Steve said it so suddenly that Tony jumped.

“Okay…” he trailed off, brows furrowing.

“Are you and Bruce like friends now?”

“Uhm, I don’t know?” he drew Steve’s jacket tighter around him and breathed in deeply, Steve’s scent clogged his nose and Tony was getting a little dizzy from it. damn Steve for looking so attractive and for smelling so good. The jacket itself was good quality and soft, softer than anything Tony had touched in years. Not to mention how it swallowed him up, only adding to the warmth it had instantly provided him. They’d be at his house soon, and then Tony would have to give back the jacket and deal with Howard’s wrath and it all made Tony’s stomach curdle and hands tremble.

“it just seemed like you two didn’t exactly get along the other day and then today he invited you.” Tony nodded, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of Steve’s jacket. What was he supposed to say?

“I don’t really have that many people in my life and I think Bruce just noticed.” Tony shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant about it.

“why is that?” Steve asked and then they were turning onto his street and Tony’s brain was starting to go foggy with fear.

“It doesn’t matter.” Tony said and stopped on his driveway. Steve stopped and spun around, his eyes narrowing and crease reappearing on his forehead.

“I want to think that you’re a good guy but Bruce is a good kid and I don’t want another snobby rich kid to just walk all over him.” Steve said and Tony stumbled back a step.

“I’m not going to do anything to Bruce.” Tony told him and Steve raised a brow.

“my job is to look out for him, and that includes making sure you don’t hurt him or use him. I’m serious Tony.” Tony nodded, inhaling sharply.

“Thanks for walking me home but I really should get inside now.” and Tony practically ran to his front door, panic rising in his throat. For a moment he’d thought that Steve had cared about him, had wanted to get to know him. But he was just as hostile towards Tony as everyone else was, he didn’t care about Tony. Tony slammed the front door shut and let out a frustrated groan.

“and where exactly have you been?” Howard snarled behind him and Tony inhaled sharply. Shit.

-

Steve was so pissed off at Tony for running inside that he’d started to walk home. He was almost halfway back to his apartment when he realised he’d forgotten his jacket. Dammit. Steve turned around and began walking back towards Tony’s house, irritation flared within him. He walked all the way back in the freezing cold to Tony’s house, trying to convince himself that it was good exercise. The lights were still on and when Steve reached the front door he began to second guess himself. Was this appropriate? Should he just wait until Monday? He shook himself and knocked on the door, it was his jacket after all. He waited a minute and nobody answered, so he knocked again. Harder and louder this time and waited another three minutes. When nobody answered yet again he tried the door handle, it was unlocked.

“Hello?” Steve called out slowly as the door swung open. The lights were on but the luxurious hallway before him was empty. Steve stepped inside, shutting the door behind him and took another step further into the house.

“tony?” he called but his voice was swallowed up by a scream. Steve ran, heart racing and blood pounding as the voice grew louder and louder. He burst through a door to find an old man, belt gripped tightly in his right hand, standing over a shirtless Tony who was curled up on the floor. They both froze and turned, Tony’s face morphed into a look of fear, the old man’s a look of rage.

“go.” Tony whispered but it was too late, the man charged towards Steve and Steve’s feet were practically glued to the ground.

#stony #stony fic #Steve Rogers #tony stark #Bucky Barnes #bruce banner #howard stark #high school au #au #for blue blue skies fic #Avengers #The Avengers #avengers fic #avengers fluff #avengers angst #stony angst #Iron Man #captain america

[signetxego]

annalise blanc - mafia au headcanons

featuring a 5 minute sketch from yours truly... i’ll do a proper one soon... maybe

“You... are aware what it is we do, right?”

The redhead sat across from Annalise raised an eyebrow, the lights of the city blurred in the window behind him, his silhouette flashing dark in front of her eyes. He wasn’t her friend, she realised, noting the loaded gun on the seat next to him, and the cold professionalism in his eyes. But he was her only way out. The only one who could keep her safe from the people she was fleeing from. So she gritted her teeth, and, digging her nails into her palms, nodded.

“I’ve known about this world... my whole life”

• Annalise grew up in total isolation, her parents paranoid and in hiding after leaving a life of crime with the mafia, until she was offered a chance to see the world by the young leader of the Heartslabyul mafia group. Her curiosity outweighing her fear, she lied about her experience and knowledge about her family history to convince Riddle to help her escape her home and see the world... by continuing the work her parents left unfinished in his organisation.

• Initially, she was handed over to her senior, Cater, to be trained in diplomacy and negotiation, being sent into the field to set up deals and payments with various clients, and to ensure their payments and loyalty. Cater quickly cottened onto the fact that Annalise was totally inexperienced and had no clue how the mafia worked, but agreed to keep her secret as to avoid angering Riddle, and to stop him sending Annalise back home.

• With a little help from Cater and a pair of clutzy newbies just like her, Annalise learnt to use her small stature and gentle demeanour to lull business partners into a false sense of security, and coax out their secrets and tricky intentions, masking her very real fear of talking to strangers with a fake sort of shyness—that of an endearing, gentle lady.

• However, one day a mission went disastrously wrong, when Annalise was allowed to accompany Riddle to meet a wealthy powerbroker, having ‘proved herself’ through her previous assignments. It was a set up, and her inexperienced shone through, leaving both her and Riddle injured, and many of the guards who had accompanied them dead.

• Annalise was distraught, but was shocked to find that when she woke up, she wasn’t being kicked to the side, or abandoned in the city. Although many high ranking officials wanted her punished for her lies, ultimately Riddle would not budge on the issue, and gave her a new job as a strategical assistant. Her experience on the field and quick wit could be applied from safely within the base, as she set up dealings and helped decide what alliances to forge.

• She’s kept safe at base and isn’t allowed to accompany others on missions anymore. In fact, she’s quite babied by the organisation as a whole, and her seniors get quite fussy if she leaves the safety of firm Heartslabyul territory by herself. Her position as a strategist puts her at risk, and as her work gains more renown throughout the city, it becomes clear that she’s become a serious pillar of strength for Heartslabyul.

• Riddle is actually the only one who knows about her family situation, since they actually met once as children, and he’s the one who helped her leave her home. As a result he’s the one she trusts the most, and she’s someone he feels a sense of responsibility for. He fusses over her safety a lot, and knows now that she’s not a violent person, and finds it really hard to hurt other people with her own hands.

•Annalise is scared of hospital equipment and needles, which causes a lot of problems for someone in a business where bullet wounds are common. Ace likes to tease her with ‘fake scheduled injections’ or ‘fake medical check ups’

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twst #twst oc #annalise blanc #mafia au

[lady-of-the-imagines]

Bitten Pt. 2

Summary: Ivy Stark met Peter Parker the day he became Spiderman

Word Count: 2,017

Warnings: None

Part 1

“So, do you live in the tower with all the avengers?”

Ivy nodded in response, having taken a too-big bite of pizza moments before.

“That’s so cool,” He stated “What’s it like? Does your dad let you go on missions and stuff? Oh, were you here when the aliens invaded?”

She laughed and held up a finger, chewing quickly before attempting to respond. In all honesty she usually hated when people asked her about the Avengers. Most of their questions were invasive, and it always felt like she was nothing more than a gateway for inside information. But Peter had seemed so excited just to be in her presence that she couldn’t bring yourself to feel annoyed with him.

“Four years ago I was on a tour of this boarding school in Massachusetts to see if I wanted to attend alter on, so I was away when the house blew up and my dad moved here. I wasn't here when everything went down with the aliens either, I’d moved in with my mom in San Francisco after the whole house thing so I pretty much missed everything interesting.”

“I completely forgot your house blew up. I’m really sorry I shouldn’t have even asked, I-.”

“Don’t be, my dad quite literally asked for it; Unless you fired a missile, then you should definitely be sorry.”

He chuckled at that and took another bite of his pizza.

“How long have you lived in New York?” she asked.

He shrugged, “My whole life.”

“A born and raised New Yorker,” she stated, more to yourself than to him.

“So, do you go on missions?”

“Oh crap, we gotta go the group should be done with the tour in like ten minutes.”

Ivy shoved her bag over her shoulder and grabbed their pizza. Pulling Peter’s arm they hurried out of the pizzeria, shooting a grateful smile toward the staff on your way out. Conversation was stalled as they hurriedly ate the rest of their slices and rushed toward Oscorp.

“Wait,” she held an arm out to Peter to keep him from going in. Pulling out the napkins she’d left in her pocket, she handed some to him and they wiped the grease from their mouths. Now looking clean and very unlike two students who’d abandoned their tour group, they walked inside.

“I’ll text MJ to find out where everyone is.”

“I’ll text Ned.”

MJ responded first. They were heading toward the entrance where Mr. Osborn would lead the class to a demonstration on the control of radioactive rays in the lab. This was new, they’d never offered this on any of your prior visits.

“They’re headed toward us, so let’s just stand off to the side and join them in the back of the group.”

“Ya know you still haven’t answered my question, right?” He asked.

“What question?”

“If you go on missions with the Avengers.”

She winked, “Classified information Parker. So classified that even my dad wouldn’t tell you.”

“But you-“

He was cut off as their guide entered the lobby.

“And here we are, back where we started. I can wait with you until Mr. Osborn gets in and then you’ll witness our demonstration.”

You slipped in beside MJ quietly, giving her shoulder a gentle nudge. She placed a bookmark between the pages and slipped her book into her bag.

“How was pizza?”

You shrugged, “Pretty good, lots of superhero questions.”

“So nothing new,” she nodded “Did you know about the demo?”

“No I think it’s new, what’s it all about?”

“Basically it’s some old machine they used to use in like the 50s to control ‘radioactive rays’ in the lab. Should be interesting enough.”

Ivy nodded, “Cool.”

Peter and Ned moved to stand with the two of you, both boys peppering her with questions once again. Peter wanted to know if she’d ever tried holding Thor’s hammer. Ned wanted to know if she’d ever held Cap’s shield. Peter asked how many suits your father had built, and Ned wanted to know if she got to work closely with Bruce in his lab.

She answered their questions, avoiding any that were a bit too invasive so as to not give too much away. Peter checked in to make sure they weren’t bothering you, and for once she could honestly say the questions didn’t bother her. The look of joy on their faces outweighed any grievances she might have. By the time Mr. Osborn arrived, they’d finally exhausted all the questions they’d thought of on the spot and moved on to regular conversation.

“Hello children,” He smiled “I hope you all enjoyed your tour around my facility. I’m sure you’re all good and bored now so let’s get to the fun part, shall we?”

The group followed Mr. Osborn to the display room where a young intern was waiting, handing each of you goggles. They stood behind a panel of glass so as to distance themselves from the rays as much as possible; though she did take note of the fact that there was a gap between the glass and ceiling. Ivy leaned over toward Mr. Osborn.

“You’re sure this is safe?”

“I’m surprised at you Ms. Stark,” he stated “with all the things your family does I wouldn’t have thought you to be scared of a scientific display.”

“Well Norman, in my experience things never go as planned, so I try to be as safe as possible.” She pointed toward the gap.

He simply waved her off and pulled his goggles on. She was worried, but there wasn’t much she could do about it, so she simply put on her own goggles and moved to stand with her friends.

The contraption before them was like nothing they’d ever seen (mostly because it was absolutely ancient). Two red orbs were held up by by machinery. The body reminded her of a spotlight, a metal rod protruding from the center. The rods connected into the orbs with two little ‘arms’ connecting on either side of the orb and passing through. Each machine was placed opposite the other and they were facing it from the side.

“Everybody got their goggles on?” Mr. Osborn asked. When he received a sufficient answer he gave a thumbs up to one of the men in the room and the display began.

Ivy heard a gasp from a few of her classmates as the machine sparked to life. It shot into gear with a loud whirring sound and the visual was bright to say the least. She was impressed by the sight and made a note to ask Mr. Osborn and her father about this when she got the chance. As the display wound down and the bright light faded, she removed her goggles and looked to the others.

MJ nodded, eyebrows raised and it was she was just as impressed. Ned’s mouth was still hanging open as he moved to say something to Peter who looked distressed. His brows were knotted together as he rubbed his hand, mouthing the word ‘ow’.

“You okay?” She questioned.

“Yea, I’m fine. Just a bug bite or something.” He stated, letting go of his hands and shoving them into his pockets.

“Dude, that was awesome!” Ned exclaimed. This seemed to snap Peter back into the moment and he pulled off his goggles, the pair now speaking animatedly about the demo.

Ivy walked alongside Mj as the class headed back to the main lobby. Mr. Osborn thanked the class for coming and sent you all on your way back to school. Peter and Ned sat across the isle from them now, still speaking among one another.

“That was cool.’ She commented to her friend.

“Cool because the display was awesome? Or cool because you got to skip out on the tour and get pizza?”

“Why not both?” She grinned. MJ rolled her eyes and Ivy stuck out her tongue.

The bus ride home was even louder than the bus ride there. Everyone was freshly energized and discussing in detail the purpose of the machine, and how exactly it worked. Even Mj was up for conversation, tucking her book into her bag to give Ivy her full attention.

When the bus pulled to a stop in front of their school, Mr. Harrington stood up so everyone could see him. He read out the current time and instructed everyone to head to study hall to wait out the end of this period.

“Do we have to go to our next class?” Harry groaned “It’s the last period, we might as well go home.”

“Yes Mr. Osborn, field trips aren’t an excuse to skip class.” Judging by the look Flash shot Harry, they still wouldn’t be attending.

“You guys wanna skip last period?” Ivy asked MJ, Peter, and Ned in a soft whisper.

“Where’re we going?” MJ questioned.

“We could head to my place.” She shrugged.

“I don’t know,” Peter said “they could call our houses and my aunt and uncle would kill me if they found out.”

“Dude,” Ned pulled Peter into a quiet conversation facing away from you. You held back a laugh, looking to MJ. She seemed confused and simply shrugged, unsure of what to say. They boys finally pulled back and Ned frowned.

“I think we’re gonna stay here, sorry.” Peter stated.

“Don’t worry about it.” she shrugged “Give me your phone for a sec?”

“Why?” He questioned, handing it over anyway.

“I’m gonna put my number in just in case you change your mind.”

She typed away, adding an emoji of the iron man mask next to her name for good measure. As she handed him back his phone Mr. Harrington instructed everyone to head inside. The four shuffled down the aisle with the rest of the class and made the short journey to study hall.

On your way there, Ivy sent a text to her dad’s driver to come get herself and MJ in about fifteen minutes. He replied quickly, simply sending a thumbs up, and she put her phone away.

“Hey,” Ned called to Ivy once they’d all sat down “I meant to ask you about the Iron man suits.”

“I can’t tell you much about those, my dad wants to keep most things about them a secret. That way nobody can successfully recreate them.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” He nodded “Is it okay if I ask some basic questions? Like about how long it takes to make them and stuff like that.”

“Fire away.”

When the bell rang Peter and Ned walked Ivy and MJ out to the front of the school.  A sleek black car waited patiently for the pair, and Happy Hogan rolled down his window so they could see it was him.

“Ready?” He asked. She nodded, holding up a finger to tell him they just needed a minute. When Ivy turned back to her friends she could see Ned staring wistfully at the car. Peter, though he was trying his best to hide it, also seemed to be battling with himself over wether to stay or go.

“You sure you guys don’t want to come?” She asked.

Ned looked to Peter who locked eyes with her, lips pressed tightly together. He didn’t say anything for a moment, likely weighing pros and cons in his head. Finally, he shook his head.

“No, I think I’ll stay behind, I’m not feeling that good anyway.” he turned to his friend “If you wanna go Ned, you can.”

“No that’s alright,” He sighed “we had plans after school anyway, I’ll stick with you.”

“Okay, well you’ve got my number if you change your minds.” She started moving toward the awaiting car “See you guys tomorrow.”

Ivy slid into the back seat of the car beside MJ, smiling at Happy.

“Who were they?” He asked as he began driving.

“Peter Parker and Ned Leeds,” MJ responded “they’re on the debate team with me.”

“We met them on the trip today.” Ivy chimed in.

“Huh, alright. So how was the trip?”

“Really boring but Norman showed us this machine from the 50s that was pretty amazing.” Ivy stated excitedly.

“It was awesome!” MJ exclaimed, the pair launching into detail about the demonstration.

Tags:

@eridanuswave @crumpets-are-better-with-jam @lilithmouse

#peter parker #peterparker #Peter Parker Imagine #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #marvel #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman x reader #spiderman x stark!reader #spiderman origin #origin story #tom holland #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #Peter Parker fanfic #Spider-Man: Homecoming #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine

[everythingstarwars]

Mine - A Kylo Ren x Reader Fic

Warnings:

- leading up to smut (none in this chapter)

- kissing

- choking

- anger issues

- possible TLJ spoilers?

Chapter Three - You’re Safe Here

Weeks passed, and you saw no more of Ren. This shouldn’t have bothered you quite as much as it did. He was a Commander, after all. Why would he visit? And yet, your desire for familiarity in this bleak, monotonous lifestyle had you scanning the doorway every now and then, heart fluttering with the hope of seeing his face. The notion that Kylo Ren’s masked face had become a source of comfort was almost enough to make you laugh.

That was until one day, roughly 2 months from the day you were brought onboard. A sharp knock on the door alerted you to the emergence of a visitor, and you glanced up from your book (Imperial Legacy, Volume 9), prepared to greet the stormtroopers for their weekly check in.

“You came back,” You said, eyes widening.

Kylo Ren stepped out of the shadows for the millionth time in your brief history with him. He seemed less stiff today. He walked into the room and allowed the door to slide shut, signaling that this would be more than just a short visit. The stormtroopers were nowhere to be seen.

He strode across the cell until he reached you, then stood still - hovering. It seemed like an eternity until he spoke. “I’ve decided to take the duties of checking up on you myself. As one of our more… capable prisoners, you require a higher level of security,” he informed you.

It was almost a compliment.

“Understood.” Was all you said in response. “Sir.” You added after a brief deliberation. This caught him off guard. Kylo brought a cloaked hand to his helmet and ran it over the back, as though stroking his hair in thought. He glanced backward, noticed the simple metal bench at the corner of your room, and approached it to take a seat.

You leaned back against the headboard and smirked. “So, what - are you gonna just watch me do nothing for eternity?”

You didn’t expect a response, and he did not provide one. Reclining once more, you opened up the book and continued to read. While the story - now on a voyage through the particularly murderous years of the Empire - was riveting as always, something had been awoken in the back of your mind. The thrumming of your heart cared not for your persistent ignorance. After a moment, you peered over the crest of the book with a soft gaze and waited until you were sure he was looking you in the eyes. It didn’t take long.

“I don’t mind,” you said, your voice inching toward a whisper.

As the months went by, Kylo returned week after week, just as he had promised. For the most part, he remained silent, stealing away to his secluded corner and dutifully watching you read, write, sing, or sleep - which admittedly, you found a bit disturbing. Informing him of this, he agreed to the surprising promise of waking you up upon his arrival, should you be asleep again in the future. Your respect for him grew little by little.

Conversation was limited. He was not a social creature. Kylo seemed to have no issue keeping silent for hours at a time. However, that was not to say that he was robotic in manner. Many times, you caught him staring at you while reading or writing, or almost-inconspicuously scanning your body from top to bottom as he entered your room. Almost. Occasionally, he would even instigate conversation.

The first time was one day as he sat watching you read the latest Imperial Rule Manual (Volume Twelve: Droid Edition). Walking to the bookshelf, he stooped down and examined the rows of books, most of which had been clearly removed and replaced, returned to their home heavily dog-eared and evidently consumed.

“You read all of these?” He asked. You glanced up from your pages.

You allowed yourself a smirk. “I had nothing else to do.” Keep the explanation short and simple, that was your best move. Somewhere in deep caverns of your mind you registered the fact that your starvation for human contact had led you to treating Kylo Ren like a tentative street cat.

“I’ve always found them incredibly boring.” Kylo admitted. This response wouldn’t have surprised you if the fact that Supreme Leader Kylo Ren speaking to you at all wasn’t the most shocking thing you had experienced to date.

“Oh, they are.”

“You read them anyway? Interesting …”

Was there… amusement in his voice?

“Well, they may be a bit boring but… I agree with most of their beliefs.” The words were true, as was your surprise at his reaction.

“Tell me,” He responded, settling on the floor next to your bed with his back against the bookshelf. For a moment, his villainous guise flickered, and he seemed very normal. Very young. Sitting there next to you, silent and calm, giving you his full attention in a moment of abrupt compassion.

You raised an eyebrow and obeyed, beginning to explain your thoughts on the imperial texts. He didn’t make a sound, allowing you to speak for as long as you wanted and add as much detail as you desired. When you finished, he responded with his own opinions on the matter, and the conversation continued.

It was almost two hours before he stood up to leave. Despite his brief politeness, he left without a word of goodbye and never brought up the conversation again. But from that day on, your dynamic had changed. Kylo Ren was no longer a voiceless captor. He had opened the channels of interaction, and you wanted more.

Over the following months, you began to speak more and more, soon growing almost comfortable with each other. Often he would arrive at your cell only to be greeted by a beaming smile on your face. The two of you discussed literature, history, the beliefs of the empire you already shared, the planets you had visited, and the worlds you yet longed to see. He refused to share any information about himself or his past, but invested fully in any stories you were willing to share or hopes of the future. Contact remained prohibited.

Even in the lightest of times, however, darkness tends to linger. You were occasionally reminded of this. No matter how open Kylo Ren grew to be around you, he was an Imperial Commander, a force of evil, and a Sith.

“There’s a celebration they do, every year at the end of the harvest season. They gather all the younglings and float Lilieans in the river. I used to watch them drift down the riverbanks with my father, until they reached the waterfall, and then whoosh-,” you made a swishing gesture with your hand. “There they would go. Gone forever. But we would do it again the next year.”

You had been conversing with him for about an hour already, and you both were deeply immersed in stories from your childhood. Kylo, curious and willing to listen, and you, passionate and eager to share. The stories brought a smile to your face, in addition to making you a bit homesick.

Kylo nodded. “It sounds beautiful,” he said. You smiled wistfully.

“It was.”

He noticed your expression. “You miss it?”

“Very much so. It has been my home since birth. Wouldn’t you miss yours?”

“No,” he admitted. “I find it surprising that you do.”

You cocked your head. “And why’s that?”

“I had taken you for someone smarter than that. Such sentimentality; attachment to something as meaningless as a planet…”

“A planet that you ravaged,” you reminded him.

Kylo sighed. “When will you understand,” he said eventually. “That sometimes the intent outweighs the outcome?”

You narrowed your eyes. His words rarely angered you, the bar set as low as it was, but somehow these struck a nerve. “Look, I don’t know what your intent was,” you growled, “And I doubt you’ll tell me. But that was my home you destroyed. Those were my people you massacred. And when you took me aboard this ship, it was for doing something that I still believe in. I was protecting them, protecting my family and our legacy.” You were nearly spitting with anger now. You weren’t sure where it had all come from so quickly, but a fire had ignited in your chest and it was futile to resist the flames.

“You imperial beasts have no idea of the lives you are destroying, even less so of the lives you are taking- ” Something silenced you. A tightening in your throat. Your vocal chords were compressed enough to mute them entirely, and soon you felt oxygen begin to diminish in your lungs. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move. Hands raised to your throat in desperation, you struggled for air that was not supplied.

Kylo approached you. Slowly. Taking his time. His hand was raised in a grasping motion. When he reached you, he kneeled down and leaned in a little too close for your liking. He squeezed his hand and your throat closed along with it.

“Careful what you say next, delicate one. Would be a shame if something happened to your pretty little neck.”

You tried to gasp and failed.

“I would be more careful with your words, moving forward. Not everyone here is as forgiving as I am. And seeing as you consistently defy my orders about staying quiet, you may want to learn to beg for forgiveness soon.”

With a single flick of his wrist, your throat reopened. You inhaled deeply and struggled for breath, gasping and heaving like a fish. He allowed you a moment to regain oxygen. When you felt more stable, you met his glare with one of your own.

“You almost killed me,” you growled.

“If I wanted to kill you, I would have.”

You considered this for a moment. The strangulation had not lasted very long, and his force-grip wasn’t as tight as you would have expected. Your throat felt surprisingly devoid of lingering pain. The whole affair seemed to be more of a fear tactic than anything else. It worked.

Furthermore, you found yourself considering his words from before carefully. You were surprised to find you believed him. He was more forgiving than many First Order officers had been so far, that was undeniable. It struck you that you could have gotten in far more trouble than you did for your traitorous words.

You held his gaze in a new light. Shadows of anger remained in your heart, he had still strangled you and he clearly hadn’t lost the fiery nature you had first experienced. But you found yourself able to nod politely and whisper, “I’m sorry, Commander. I understand when to hold my tongue.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t entirely the truth.

He nodded and stole away to the doorframe, where he lingered for a moment. Dramatically, as was the routine with everything he did.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said.

For the first time, he didn’t seem to relish in the candor of his words. He glanced back at you one last time and left the room.

. . .

Weeks passed, and life in solitude continued. The storm troopers returned once again for the weekly-check in. Kylo did not. You couldn’t bring yourself to be sad. If anything, it was almost nice to be able to push him from your mind once and for all. Well, almost.

You hadn’t seen him for an eternity, when one night you were woken by a weight on your shoulder. Something jostled you once. Then twice. After a moment, you were awake and sitting up. Your head felt full of sand. Even with groggy vision, you could tell it was the middle of the night.

Kylo stood at the foot of the bed, his arm extended and his voice impatient.

“Get up,” he instructed. You stood, took his hand, and allowed him to lead you to the door. You registered the fact that your hair must be a mess and your voice was raspy with exhaustion. His wasn’t. Did the guy ever sleep?

“Follow me. Don’t make a sound.” He spoke quietly. When you reached the door he grasped your wrist. In the darkness, you saw the glint of metal and heard a sharp clicking noise. Your bracelet clattered to the floor. With the handcuff removed, he pulled you out of the cell for the first time in months and the two of you took off down a barren hallway. The entire ship was asleep, and the only sound was the monotone humming of an engine somewhere.

“Where are you taking me?” You inquired. His hand was to your throat in an instant. The walking ceased.

“What did I say?” He growled in your ear. His leather glove was cool against the skin of your neck. Your heart thrummed at the feeling. When you tried to breathe, you found you could, just barely. The thought was exciting.

“Apologies, sir,” You submitted as he released you. You hoped the darkness was enough to disguise your smirk.

He resumed his pace, leading you along with him, though he no longer clutched your hand. Willfully, you followed him, more out of curiosity than anything else.

After a couple of hallways that brought no change of scenery, a new thought dawned on you. Your throat closed up without any action from Kylo. Beads of sweat met the skin of your forehead and crystallized in the cold night air.

“Kylo,” You whispered. “Am I going to die?”

He almost stopped, but then seemed to think better of it and keep walking.

“What?”

“Am I being led to my execution? Did they send you to make it easier on me?”

You heard a soft laugh from somewhere inside his helmet. “My presence has grown to soothe you, has it?” He teased.

“I- uh… no.”

“No,” He consoled, “You’re not going to die.”

You sighed in relief, but a million questions remained.

“Then-,” You began.

“Quiet. We’re almost there.”

He took you down one final hallway and the path opened up into a cavernous control room. Blinking lights, abandoned consoles, and empty chairs filled the room. Even at night, it purred with electricity and activity, as if alive in some way. Massive computers lined the walls, and the front of the room was consumed by an enormous floor-to-ceiling window, revealing the vast expanse of space outside.

You walked through it in amazement. A long, glossy pathway through the center guided your way to the window. It was like walking down an aisle. As you passed each computer console, your fingers skimmed the tops enviously, imagining the power contained in just a single one, and what you could do with such ability. So much information, so much control, held in this one single room.

Kylo walked behind you for the first time. He allowed you to take your time admiring the room. You imagined he must be proud. This was his accomplishment, after all. His empire.

The window rose in front of you, tall and enchanting, like a gateway to the outside world. As you grew closer, you began to spot the small dots of stars in the distance, tiny flickering lights that appeared and vanished in your vision. One by one, then clusters, until the entire sky was filled with them. It was a sight you were familiar with, but seeing such wonder from space itself, as though you were another star among them, was different in every way. Your eyes glowed in their light.

Kylo joined you next to the window and watched as you reached out to touch the glass. You recoiled immediately. It was freezing. Colder than anything you had ever felt, as though it would solidify your blood with just one touch.

He ignored your activity and stared out the window. You tried to decipher what he found so interesting and could not, beautiful as the void was. You were about to ask him why he had brought you here, when something caught your eye.

A sliver of light lit up a corner of the window, growing larger and larger by the second. You remembered suddenly that you were on a ship, and it was moving.

The light was being omitted by something far in the distance, many light years away. There were only a couple of celestial bodies that did that.

Kylo gestured to the light - as if you hadn’t noticed - and spoke for the first time in minutes.

“Do you know what this is?” He asked, as the ball of light edged into view.

You nodded, recognizing it after a moment. “...Pleione, right? It’s a star,” you responded, smiling. It struck you what was about to happen.

“When it passes our ship in a few minutes, it will generate a mirage of light across the sky.” Kylo voiced what you were just piecing together.

“A sunrise,” you murmured. Sudden excitement consumed you as your scientific brain kicked in. You had seen a sunrise before, of course, but never from a ship. You hadn’t realized it would be possible until now. “From the angle of the destroyer against it’s rays… similar to that of a mini-planet. We’ll actually get to see a sunrise.”

“Indeed,” Kylo confirmed, sounding a bit awestruck. He looked at you, and allowed his gaze to linger for a moment. Had he been expecting you to understand? Wouldn’t most people? You couldn't be sure, but why would he bring you out here otherwise? You wondered what he was thinking.

“Kylo, why did you bring me out here?”

“I figured you missed seeing them,” he answered, still looking at you.

Something stirred in your heart. A genuine act of kindness, of sympathy… from Kylo Ren. It should have surprised you more than it did. Still, the act was unexpected and brought a bright flush to your face despite efforts to remain cool.

His next move surprised you more.

You had turned back to watch the approaching star, when a low click brought your attention back to Kylo. With a sound similar to that of a vacuum cleaner being turned off, his helmet was removed and cast aside. A heavy sound resonated through the room as it hit the floor by his feet.

“Kylo, what’re you…?” You inquired with widening eyes.

He turned to face you, and the man that met your eyes was worlds away from how you envisioned Kylo Ren. He had tumbling black hair, pushed back by the mold of his helmet, that reached the base of his neck in length and curled around his ears ever so slightly. His eyes were a shade of brown so dark they were almost black, and his skin was the color of ivory.

When he smirked at you, he looked so different from the man you thought you had grown to know. So young… so pretty. It struck you how handsome he was, a development you were certain you had not prepared for.

“Well, I can’t see the beauty of the sunrise if I’m wearing a mask, can I?” He said, almost flippantly. His voice, his real voice, mesmerized you. It was low and sonorous, less raspy than it had been with the helmet on yet still slightly cracked. The voice of someone tall, someone warm. Of a man with a young heart but an old soul.

You realized your lips were dry and tried to remember how to breathe.

“Look,” he said, interrupting your swirling thoughts, all too abstract to form words. The sunset had begun.

It began slowly, as though waking up from a long nap. Tiny slivers of warmth crept along the edges of the window. Not too many, not enough to overwhelm. Soon, an entire glowing curve of raw sunlight was visible. Then, the night sky burst to life, massive brushes of colorful light spreading in every direction, painting the sky with its splendor. Every panel of the window was illuminated by a magnificent golden glow, the stars in the distance fading as they were consumed by the light.

It was a spectacle unlike any you had ever seen. It light up Kylo in the warmth as well, his raven-black hair turning a shade of burgundy and his dark eyes glittering gold. You realized it must be doing the same to you.

You both turned to look at each other in awe at the same time and locked eyes. You were smiling, he had a serene look on his face. You looked away first, blushing. His eyes stayed on you.

When it was over and the sky returned to an eerie pitch black, he led you back to your cell.

You stepped inside rubbed your eyes, the effect of waking up so early finally hitting you. Kylo stood in the doorway with his mask in hand, staring at you with a thoughtful expression.

You took a step toward him. Upon receiving no reaction, you took another. And another. Until you were a mere few inches from him. Almost breathing the same air. With tentative slowness, you extended a hand and he met it, allowing you to take his. His hand was nearly twice the size of yours, but his fingers were long and laced gently with yours.

“Thank you for keeping me sane,” You whispered. The words weren’t really enough to express your true gratitude, but it would do for now.

Kylo narrowed his eyes. “I trust this will be enough to keep you behaved for a while?” He asked.

“Very well behaved, Commander,” you teased, moving closer and closer to him. He didn’t stop you.

You were an inch away. Less than. His arms were around you. You weren’t sure when that had happened. Your hands were around his neck. His skin was smooth, and cool to the touch. But his lips were warm when he kissed you.

It happened in an instant, almost too fast to register. You two connected, and all the barriers that had been put up melted away.

His lips were firm, but used gently. He took the lead, wrapping his arms further around your waist and kissing you deeply. His tongue slipped into your mouth and you fought a whimper. How was he so good at this? Your thoughts became giddy. Kylo...kylo...kylo… His lips were magic, his touch electrifying. His upper lip pressed into yours with the perfect amount of pressure, while his bottom lip grazed yours lightly, almost as if trying to open it.

He bit your bottom lip teasingly as he pulled away and a light moan left your mouth. He smirked at the sound. You were certain your face was now flushed completely red and possibly sweaty, but you didn’t care. He looked perfect, still, and he had just kissed you so… passionately. Your mind was too fuzzy with lust to think straight.

Kylo was still looking at you, but it was clear the time had come for him to leave. His eyes were asking a question, and you responded with a nod but reached for his hand one last time.

“I don’t want you to go,” You confessed.

He gazed into your eyes. His expression betrayed nothing, but he squeezed your hand lightly and leaned in to kiss your forehead.

“I’ll be back,” he said as he pulled away.

Whether that was a threat or a promise, you couldn’t tell. But a moment later, he was gone.

You stood there standing at the door for long after it closed.

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfiction #makeout #daddy kylo coming soon #star wars the last jedi #first order

[counterror]

* ANSWERED ASK  /  GHOST META.

                          DO NOT REBLOG.

RANDOM DEVELOPMENT ASKS  /  ALWAYS ACCEPTING.

anonymous asked :  are there any differences between how simon acts towards children and how ghost acts towards them ? in a situation where a child could be a threat, how does he deal ? in the other meta you said he could potentially become more feral and frantic when presented with a vulnerable kid, is this because of an innate desire to keep them safe or for other reasons ? what's his view on those who harm children and if he witnessed something like that, what sort of reaction would he have ? love your metas btw !

I believe there are differences.   in a situation where ghost is confronted with a child as a hostage, it’d be simon that bleeds through.  if you think about it, despite simon practically shutting himself off and engaging ghost once the mask is on, ghost isn’t a separate entity that’s jumped into his body.  he’s a persona.   meaning, despite his complete lack of empathy and hard shell, simon is witnessing everything taking place.  he’s merely channeling certain aspects of himself to get the job done.   

take the concept of a method actor, an actor who remains in their role right up until the job is finished, if they’re playing an extremely apathetic character and the routine of that character is to kill the bad guy.  mind you, the actor themselves are empathetic.  so you’ve got this caring, empathetic actor playing the role of someone that’s the complete opposite.  and it’s all going fine, routine is routine, you’re used to it  -  until there’s the cold hard reality of a child stood in front of them with their life on the line.  imagine that one thing that draws every ounce of empathy out of you and put it in the place of that child.   do you really think simon, the actor in this circumstance, would shun that entire situation purely to remain in character ?  if they really want to, they might confront the event as the character  -  while responding to the actor’s empathy rather than ignoring it entirely, if that makes sense ?   

so you’ve got ghost, who’s apathetic, logical, focused and objective being driven by simon riley, who’s capable of being all of those things but completely lacks the composure to act confidently and intelligently on them.   which works fine, until ghost is faced with a situation that can draw aspects of simon out that are meant to be boxed away until later.   but then without ghost present, simon on his own would behave in an entirely different way.  which would risk getting him and the child killed, because the urge to react would outweigh the certainty of being logical and careful.  but because simon would also bleed through ghost in that moment, even with the mask on, it’d prompt ghost’s response to be less calm and analytical than it would be when faced with an adult  -  since simon wouldn’t be bleeding through under that circumstance.  

however, high stress interactions differ massively from general ones, so if ghost was faced with a child in a calm environment  -  say he randomly crossed paths with one while deployed, it wouldn’t trigger any reaction from simon.  he’d move on and have little interaction.  he’s there to get the job done.  whereas were simon to cross paths with a child, he’d be more observational of the child’s surroundings, scanning what their parents are like or if they’re in any danger.   this changes for ghost when high intensity comes into play  -  when lives are on the line.   he would ignore the child, up until that child called for help or was visibly in danger, in which case a response would surge from simon  -  likely kicking ghost into reacting in a more urgent and frantic way.   it’s important to note that ghost is, mostly, a manifestation of simon’s grief and anger that is stored away, which he learnt to utilize in a useful way.   emotions that would typically eat away at you and push you to act out within society are caged away and then brought out in full force when faced with hostile environments  -  he’s able to turn that aggression and violence on and off with the mask.   but the lack of control in a situation can cause it to be used inappropriately or clumsily, because simon’s lack of composure bleeds through and is liable to cause ghost to make mistakes.   so behaviour and reactions definitely vary depending on circumstance.

things differ with a child who’s perceived as a threat.  it’s similar to how a soldier may love dogs, may even own one, but if an enemy’s dog is charging at them with the sole intention to rip out their throat or one of their teammate’s, they have to act without holding up the mission or giving away their presence.   I do believe when an enemy is involved ghost will aggressively and actively block simon out in order to proceed.  he’s experienced enough to know that an enemy with a weapon has the potential to compromise the mission, kill him and one if not all of his men.  there is a big difference between an innocent civilian in danger and an enemy that is bringing the danger.   this is where ghost’s objective thinking comes into play, child or not, this enemy has a weapon and intends to use it on me.  morals and ethics go out the window, albeit with an extremely subtle struggle in comparison to eliminating an older enemy.   whether he wants to or not doesn’t come into it, and the same can be said in a situation where a pregnant woman with an explosive vest on is approaching him or his team.  he’s trained to see, before anything else, an enemy who intends to harm innocents.  whereas an innocent child being taken hostage by an enemy presents a completely different variety of consequences and possibilities.  

that’s not to say eliminating a child enemy who’s considered a threat wouldn’t play back on his mind later once the mask is off.  but the reality is that, leaving that child alive could’ve meant high causality numbers of the people he’s supposed to be protecting  -  that lapse in judgement could risk the deaths of many, all to protect that one.   and ghost is trained to see that before anything else, meaning simon is too and therefore wouldn’t disruptively bleed through because he knows it has to be done.

the feral and frantic side I mentioned in that meta is a combination of simon bleeding through which prompts ghost to lose the control he has over the aggressive, hostile aspects of himself he projects  -  anger that’s triggered to be used inappropriately or impulsively rather than calculated or logically.   ghost is a protective persona, his purpose is to act as a fortified wall around simon so the moment a direct threat to simon is perceived ( such as something that triggers his ptsd, like witnessing a child in danger, ) ghost’s aggression will spike in a way that isn’t progressive.  ( this isn’t to be compared to the general threat that comes with his line of work, because that’s a different threat entirely. )  that’s simon bleeding through, his lack of composure pushing the control out of ghost’s hands.   

it isn’t innate, but it is a desire to keep them safe.  throughout much of his childhood, he didn’t feel this way.  in fact, he wasn’t aware of his own trauma for much of his life, until he grew to his older teen years in which terms and labels became evident and he could see life for what it was.   he eventually felt for kids in rough situations, and empathized with them, and his trauma / abuse throughout his childhood is the primary fuel of that desire.  he had to become his own hero, effectively  -  there was no one there for him and therefore he had to become the man he needed at the time of his struggle.  if he witnesses anything remotely similar to that which he experienced, or he sees a child who needs someone but doesn’t have them  -  he steps up and puts people in their place.  he will speak up about it.   

however, the final push came when his nephew was murdered alongside his family.  a sweet, innocent child caught up in cold blood.   clueless and terrified as two men, who were seen as friends, stormed the home and began gunning his entire family down.   simon could never grieve for his loss.   he could only focus on vengeance and justice for them and himself.   but he regularly thought of his nephew’s suffering.  wondered whether he died immediately, or whether he died slow, face down in pools of his blood  -  helpless and alone because his uncle riley wasn’t there to protect them.   he couldn’t save himself, he couldn’t save his nephew, and certainly nobody on the outside at all tried to save either of them or even gave a single fuck about their tragedy.   he doesn’t trust the law to step in, and he doesn’t trust anyone’s justice but his own.   simon riley would risk any consequence in order to save an innocent, vulnerable child and it’s unlikely ghost would be able to do anything about it, other than offer a more composed, controlled, logical approach than simon alone would. 

simon views those who harm children as weak and pathetic.  there’s no other way to put that.  he despises those who abuse their power and who take it on out the defenseless.   it says in the comics that he joined the military after the events of the september 11 attacks.  a position sought after in order to protect people from the tragedy and destruction many aim to produce.   even at the start of his military career, he wanted to defend the defenseless.   as aforementioned, simon would risk any consequence to save an innocent, vulnerable child.  the most likely reaction you’d be looking at is him scaring the abuser / person doing the harm into never doing it again.   he knows his father was fearless, didn’t care if he lived or died.  which is where he, in the end, got to him, by leaving him to his cancer despite his father asking a favour of him.   hanging in between life and death.   

simon would know it’d be most sensible to involve the law and assist in pushing for justice, which is where taking ghost’s persona on would come in handy, enabling him to do what would be considered illegal in order to get a better outcome without waiting for the law to do very little.   I won’t go into detail, but he’d certainly give much more than a stern word, that’s for sure.   why remove a child from their home environment and throw them around needlessly when you can remove a few of the abuser’s teeth or fingers and ensure that child receives nothing but the best from that point on.  if you see what I’m saying.

#THANK U SM FOR THE ASK !! #i felt this one in my BONES #abuse m #trauma m #ptsd m #child death m #i heavily appreciate that u like my metas bless u !! #metas. ( ghost. ) #simon's vocal about that shit #whereas ghost is much more... #abuser wakes up late at night and ghost's sat at the end of their bed with a knife and torture tools type scenario :) #ghost certainly varies a fucking TONNE though and im #constantly developing him #ghost as a persona doesn't really... have a much of a reaction to ANYTHING #typically it'll be more bc simon's bleeding through #he would've achieved interrogating the butcher in the mw game #(where the butcher's kid and wife are involved) #bc ghost would've completely shut simon tf out #which is really simon shutting himself out bc he knows shit needs to be done #anonymous. #answered asks. ( ghost. ) #headcanons. ( ghost. ) #i have a lot to say i hAVE A LOT TO SA

[starswornoaths]

A Shard of Eternity

This is my Secret Santa gift for my Secret Santa partner: @anpan-chan! @aetherstitch was kind enough to host a secret santa this year, and I’m delighted to be able to participate! I hope this is to your liking!!! \o/

nondescript WoL/Exarch, spoilers for all of 5.0 and the 2.0 tower raids under the cut!!! (I kept it nondescript mostly out of fear of getting your WoL wrong, but I am also more than happy to change anything you want!)

The first time the Warrior of Light is mentioned by name, it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. Another high and mighty adventurer who got a little lucky here and there, from what you had gleaned from the whispers around Saint Coinach’s Find. It had bearing on neither your research nor your work, and so you paid it little mind and went back to your books.

Rammbroes interupts your reading, as he often does, asking you to scout ahead of this supposed Warrior of Light that is coming to gather what is needed to venture further into Syrcus Tower. You resist the urge to snort— scout ahead of a vaunted hero to ensure their safety? If they truly were just like the heroes in the fairy tales, it would stand to reason that this Warrior of Light would be more than able to handle themselves.

Still, the request does present an opportunity to test their heroism and cunning for yourself, and so you leave for the Shroud with a swish of your tail, a bow at your back, and a book tucked in the crook of your arm.

This Warrior of Light fancies themself a hero, do they? You aim to make them prove it.

**

*

They follow along with your little game of cat and mouse, despite how tired they look of it all from the first moment you call to them through the treetops. Halfway through the chase, you aren’t entirely certain who is the hunter and who is the hunted. It was...fascinating, seeing them follow your clues and give in to your goading with a dogged, foolhardy curiosity tempered by the sort of cunning that kept you on your toes, kept you scrambling to stay the more clever of the two of you.

You hate to admit it, but it thrills you.

Still, the thrill does not outweigh the promise of getting closer than you’ve ever got to unlocking the secrets of Allag, and so you reveal yourself with a flourish at the game’s end. The Warrior of Light is sardonic with their traded quips, barbless but all the same sharp as they are. There’s a cleverness to them, you note on your way back to the Sons of Saint Coinach, and the glimmer in their eyes makes you wonder how often they’re allowed to be clever. 

When you return to Rammbroes with your newfound companion you watch, a little dismayed, as that wit is hidden behind the mask of professional indifference, behind stoic nods and two word answers, because the hero is rarely allowed to be clever outside of their use. Seeing it happen before you reminds you of younger years best forgotten, where others would mock you for your red eye while manipulating you for your intellect in school. 

It’s almost frightening how readily you become the perfect picture of the hero’s merry companion, ready to catch some of the glory for yourself. Luck permitting, more than just some.

For you are G’raha Tia, after all, and aught less than being remembered in the annals of history for all time would just not do.

**

*

“Do you think yourself clever?” The Warrior of Light asks you one night at Saint Coinach’s Find. 

A glib answer dances on your tongue, ready to be used as a shield like you’ve done for years now against those who mocked your romanticism for fairytales and legends. Ordinarily, it is bittersweet, sharp cunning and bitter loneliness make for a poor taste on the palatte. But tonight, with the stars hanging heavy overhead and their eyes looking at you in that quietly ponderous way, you feel...safe. Safe enough to be honest, if only a little.

“I am all but certain of it.” You reply with a grin. “It’s kept me alive for this long.”

“Good.” They seem satisfied, nodding. “I think you’re brilliant, you know? For someone with the bravado you’ve got, though, you keep that brilliance quiet. Why?”

You are prepared for neither the compliment nor the question that follows, and it takes longer than you’d like to answer.

“I like seeing others be brilliant, too.” You finally admit in a soft voice. 

Because you do— and you’ve especially liked seeing their brilliance as they pushed through Syrcus Tower, through the mysteries writ in the pages of the ancients and scrawled on the walls of their tombs. 

Their hand on yours sends a shockwave through you— you had not expected touch, much less one so gentle from a hero so used to exerting great strength. Yet to look up at their bright eyes, you see a different sort of strength that you aren’t sure you can even name.

“I like seeing you be brilliant, too, G’raha Tia.” They reply quietly.

You tell yourself that squeezing their hand is just to calm your heart, and that looking up at the stars is because they are soothing, and not at all because you’re terrified of the warmth that suffuses through you. You pretend you’re not terrified of missing that warmth when the time comes to part.

**

*

You couldn’t resist sealing yourself away in the tower when the opportunity presented itself. Part of it was a want to be a hero yourself— after all the feats of great power, integrity, and heroism that not only the Warrior of Light, but those around them, exuded, you feel it only fitting that you be given an eternity to try and reach for the same heights.

“My destiny lies in the future.” You say with clear conviction, the doors closing in behind you.

Cid promises to work to build a future that you would be proud of, and it humbles you. The Warrior of Light’s eyes are so bright as they look at you, too bright for you to truly read. You feel as though even with eternity all but gift wrapped for you, you will never truly understand what they’re thinking. You’re all but certain that even given eternity, you couldn’t even find the words to ask.

“Goodnight, G’raha Tia.” They say in a soft voice, but the look on their face is one of pain.

You let their words carry you to slumber, and try not to think on how you might have hurt them. Better to forget. They will be gone by the time you awake, besides, you remind yourself somberly.

And you dream of tomorrow.

**

*

Tomorrow comes too soon, and with the smell of ashes, smoke, and ceruleum. 

The people who managed to crack into Syrcus Tower had scarcely even known to look for you, had thought mentions of you waiting like a sleeping prince high in his castle has been the stuff of fairytales. They look at you with soot covered faces and wide, haunted eyes, and you understand before they’ve explained anything that everything has gone wrong.

You just aren’t prepared for how thoroughly it’s all gone up in flames.

Even though you had accepted that you’d wake up long after your friends from the Sons of Saint Coinach and the Warrior of Light were dead, you’re still woefully unprepared to see their graves. Less so because of how they all died.

You’re told the Warrior of Light fell first, that the Black Rose had claimed them in the midst of battle because the Empire hadn’t been able to handle losing for once. It boils your blood, knowing they— and everyone they had inspired to fight alongside them— were slaughtered by a weapon with no counter. By a coward’s invisible guillotine.

It’s almost frightening how quickly you are incandescent with rage for them. For Cid, for everyone who had fought to keep Cid’s promise to you, robbed of the chance to do so.

The anger only grows in your breast as you read the recorded tales of the Warrior of Light, of one Lord Edmont de Fortemps’ account of how they ended the Dragonsong War, of Lord Hien’s illustrated tales of how the Warrior of Light liberated two nations from the tyranny of an Imperial Regime. 

The Warrior of Light, inspiration to all who met them and beyond, had become the sort of person you read about in texts of historical legends, in fairytales. A hero, in every sense of the word. 

They deserved better than this.

So you focus on the fact that, in some twisted way, Cid had kept his promise to you: the prospects of this timeline were bleak, but the collaborative efforts of everyone rallying for the sake of saving the Warrior of Light— a fable to these people for how many centuries had passed— showed you that perhaps there was still light within the shadow.

All the same, you would see this shadow banished before it was ever cast at all.

**

*

You try to commit to memory the names and faces of everyone who you left behind, being sent to the First. For a time, you manage most of them, though you are made to endure a century of waiting and planning, and by the end of it you have to remind yourself of your own name.

The Crystal Exarch? G’raha Tia? Was there even room for the both of you that now coincided in that half shimmering, half shivering body that was only yet half yours?

For all the knowledge of the Tower, you find no answer. So you ask different questions as you go: what will help the people in this world, in this moment? What sort of world did you want to present to the Warrior of Light when you see them again?

The Crystarium takes the shape, takes the light, takes the land around the Tower, and becomes a home to all those drawn to its hopeful, glimmering beacon. A monument to hope, in memoriam to hope’s greatest chamion.

You certainly hope that it is enough.

**

*

You had thought the years had tempered your arrogance, though with the five failed attempts at drawing the Warrior of Light to the First staring up at you in varying degrees of bewildered and enraged you realize, perhaps, that you were mistaken. Your research— ever meticulous, even a century on —had told you their names and what roles they had played alongside the Warrior of Light, before the Eighth Umbral Calamity.

You knew which one you could trust with the truth.

Uriangier seemed reluctant to agree to your plan of secrecy, but you recalled the tales of his false duplicity during the time during and after the Dragonsong War. You knew he would ultimately capitulate.

The others were more reluctant to trust— most ultimately didn’t at all. You couldn’t fault them, even if that had complicated the plan a bit.

They were like you: side characters to the hero. They would fall into place when the time was right, you were certain.

So you reached out a sixth time with a foci and an implanted dream in the Warrior’s mind, and pulled.

**

*

It doesn’t surprise you how reluctant they are to trust you, the moment you meet them at the gates of the Crystarium. It’s to be expected; even without five other instances to serve as warning, they were never ones to trust strangers with stranger powers than they had seen before. You suspect you are the strangest that have come across yet. It’s a little flattering.

Even as you welcome them, you note that their eyes rarely stray from the Crystal Tower looming overhead. It’s hard to tamp down on the ancient, buried hope that you were remembered, that you were missed. Surely you were but a blip on their radar, a passing ship in the eye of a storm they sailed straight into. 

You are scarcely through explaining that you came from the tower when you are cut off.

“You came from the tower?” The Warrior of Light’s wide, startled eyes snap to you. There’s something akin to a recluctant hope there, one you are reluctant to define. “There was— there was someone dear to me. His name was G’raha Tia. He sealed himself away in there. Know anything about that?”

There is a moment, only one, where you have to reconcile what you presumed and what was true. You don’t know what to make of the knowledge that, perhaps, you meant more to them than you had thought.

“I found no one by that name in the tower.” You dance around the truth with something that is technically not a lie. 

“And you’re certain there was no one named G’raha Tia in that tower?” The Warrior presses with eyes sharper than you remembered.

“No one that I found.” You reply, and remind yourself of your convictions as you move on.

G’raha Tia was not in that tower, after all, and had not been in some time.

**

*

“Do you think yourself clever?” The Warrior of Light asks you on the first night Norvrandt has had in a century. 

There is a moment where you are a century younger and have no other title than a name you were given at birth, no power but a bow at your back and an eye that you ache to see the secrets of, and you have to remind yourself of the years in your bones and the weight of the parts of you the tower claimed before you can answer.

“Just clever enough to get by.” You settle on, biting back words from a younger you that looked out on a starry sky like this one a world and a lifetime away.

You sit in silence that is both companionable and weighty. You can feel how many questions your old friend has for you, and you are glad they do not ask. You would not answer them, much as you want to.

You can’t. You mustn’t. 

So when they heave a sigh and rise to their feet with a soft, “Goodnight,” you pretend it doesn’t hurt that you can’t just be honest with them, knowing your heart so much better than you did when you were so much younger.

All the power in the universe at your fingertips, and still you can’t reach out to close the distance. You tell yourself that it’s all worth it, just to save them.

You tell yourself that’s enough.

**

*

The more Lightwardens they defeat, the more it’s easy to see them disappearing behind the blinding light they absorb. It frightens you, even as you try to put it out of your mind. They’re a hero, you remind yourself— and Uriangier, who comes to you in his own moment of doubt. They will be fine.

You will see to it yourself, even knowing what it will cost you.

**

*

When there is so little of the Warrior of Light left that they are scarcely able to stay conscious, when the skies are filled with light across all of Norvrandt as they are poised to become one of the very horrors they had been fighting against and all seems lost, you come to them. 

Your posturing as a villain is a poor showing, but you try anyway. It’s the least you can do, ease their guilt, help them not miss you or feel as though they could have saved you. They couldn’t. And you did not want them to.

This plan was too carefully crafted, too many years of waiting and scheming and lying have led to this moment. You will not falter. You will save them. It doesn’t matter that they see your face now and know your lies, know your secrets. You will not be around for the aftermath anyway, and they will all be free.

“G’raha Tia!” They cry out as you begin to cast the spell that will take the light from them. 

You hesitate. Blinking away the tears in your eyes you offer them the first real, genuine smile free of the cowl and cowardice. You tell them that it’s going to be alright. That they will be alright.

The sharp crack of lightning that broke the sky was not lightning at all, you realize when you felt your abdomen grow cold, felt the air leave your lungs. Your concentration shatters as you look down to see the blood blossoming on your robes like a lily.

You’ve been shot.

Attempts to regain your focus are fleeting and weak, weak like your legs giving out under you. No...no! You’ve gone so long planning, done so much and lost so much and hurt so much, it can’t end here! It can’t end like this!

You close your eyes and dream of tomorrow again.

**

*

When you are more aware of yourself and your surroundings, the Warrior of Light is healed, resplendent, more than you had ever seen of them before, and challenging the bringer of Darkness himself, Hades.

You will not leave them to fight alone. You refuse. Not again.

And so eons become instant, and the expanse contracts in the palm of your hands, and you bring forth other heroes from other stars, people who might uplift the Warrior of Light in their time of need, that might lend their light to piercing the veil of black that shrouded them all.

And you watch them rise with a new dawn, triumphant and tired, taking in their greatness like the merry member of their band you had always wanted to be.

“Good morning, G’raha.” They tell you, and you can’t see them for the tears that come. 

You didn’t even know you were waiting a century to hear them say that, after all.

**

*

The bedlam and joyous shivaree of the celebration that night in the Crystarium is a distant roar as you stand on the balcony beneath the stars but above the din of festivities. Close enough to the merriment that its energy vibrates beneath your skin but not so close as to overwhelm you. About as close as you’ve let anyone in, save your granddaughter.

When the door behind you opens, you are not surprised to see the Warrior of Light slip out to join you and shut the door behind them. Much as the sight of them fills you with a sort of deeply instinctual fear and need to run and hide, you tighten your grip on the balcony railing and rally your courage. They deserve your honesty, they always have, but especially after everything that’s led to this moment.

“I’d wondered where you went.” They say as they draw near. “Lyna was helpful.”

You want to laugh; of course your granddaughter would ensure you are properly taken to task for your behavior. Doubtless she’ll flog you herself when she has the time. 

“You have me at a disadvantage.” You say, unsure of what other words you could even offer.

“A welcome change of pace, then.” They reply with a wry twist of that clever mouth of theirs.

That overwhelming need to hide takes you again, and you can’t help but reach up for your hood to pull it over your eyes. It shocks you to your crystalized core when they reach out a hand and wrap it around your wrist to stop you.

“G’raha.” They say, and something ancient and aching and lonely quivers at that. “Don’t hide from me anymore.”

When they pull you toward them and press their lips to yours, you find you have no ilm of yourself left to keep from them, and you sink sweetly, softly into their arms with clutching hands and a century of desperation. Ever the hero, they keep you from falling anywhere but for them, exactly where you’ve always wanted to be.

#ffxiv #5.0 spoilers #Shadowbringers spoilers #crystal exarch #warrior of light #I hope this is okay! #this is such a good ship but I worry I got the exarch wrong hhhhhh #happy holidays friend!!! I hope you enjoy it and you have a great holiday!!! #\o/

[razoraqua]

Ruby’s Symbiote History(Scatter-Spider AU)

One of the winners of a poll I did an RWBY Amino for what AU I made to share more information and the winners was the Symbiote of the Scatter-Spider AU, anyway let’s go over the timeline of this UA’s Venom Symbiote but first let’s clear up a few things.

Origin and Home-world

So, if you watched a lot of videos talking about the origins of the Symbiote that would later bond to Spider-Man and later Eddie Brock to become Venom you’ll know that it’s origin has been retconned a good chunk of times. From a Kree Solider being the first host of the Symbiote, using it only as a tool, Deadpool being the cause of its insanity to it being a part of peaceful race known as the Klyntar before being retconned to them being evil because of they were created by an Evil God. So what’s this AU’s Symbiote’s origin and homeland.

Easy.

This version of the Symbiote is a part of the peaceful Klyntar who want to be a noble warrior of the cosmos but if they get a bad and cruel host then they’ll become corrupted by their personality and get their personality traits from their time bonding with them. This way Ruby unknowingly makes the Symbiote split into two different being that represents two side of her personality, in a way. Now let’s get into the timeline.

The Arrival

The Symbiote arrives to Earth, more specifically Vale of Remnant, via meteor in a meteor shower and landing in Vale Park where a certain Red Spider is helping out. Ruby, as Scatter-Spider, is taking care of a few thugs who were trying to rob a family of their money, she takes care of them with ease (Spider powers remember) and the Symbiote has a front row seat to this display of agility and power. After webbing up the baddies, making sure the family was safe, Ruby web-swings away to come patrolling the city of any crimes and doesn’t know the Symbiote got on her shoe.

Seeing that it might be a slow night, Ruby decided to practice her parkour and free running skills in the area she was in and during that time the Symbiote started to bond with Ruby, cover her and become her new suit. This is when Ruby still has her Street Suit.

After sticking a landing to finish off her practice (perfectly matching the time the Symbiote completely makes itself Ruby’s new suit) Ruby finally notices her new suit, since she did the last portions of her training with her eyes closed to better hone in her Spider Sense. It definitely freaked her out about this new suit on her that appeared out of nowhere but before she could examine it a loud noise that caught her attention and being the helpful person she is she swings off to help.

Turns out it was a car chase with the fleeting car causing problems for the police and bystanders. Ruby quickly dove in to stop them and that’s where the Symbiote started to show what it can do to help her be a better crime fighter. When Ruby stuck her hand out to shoot out webbing at one of the back tires to stop the car what came out was a symbiote tendril that grabbed the tire she was aiming for and she quickly pulled back to take out the tire despite her surprise. The Symbiote continued to show how useful it is to Ruby by enhancing her abilities and she took out the car and criminals a lot faster than she normally does.

Making sure everything was handled by the police, Ruby went to a nearby rooftop to have a better look at her new suit and its abilities. While looking at the suit she really liked the new spider symbol she got, moving onto its abilities, she did this by doing a few kicks and punches that were followed by/ended with a tendril coming out and finally she tested its shape shifting abilities. The Symbiote made sure to please Ruby with its abilities so that it can have a host, please and keep the host alive and get a nice home.

Time with the First Love

(About this title: Yes, the Symbiote does refer Ruby as its “First Love” because she was its first ever host and it enjoyed the time it spent with her. Similar to the comics and a bit of Spectacular Spider-Man, kinda the main reason it bond with Brock to become Venom, prove Spidey is nothing without it. Moving on.)

Ruby’s time with the Symbiote starts off like any other Spiders’ first time bonding with the Symbiote: it feels great! The new sense of confidence it gave her was amazing and she definitely has A LOT of confidence in this time because her getting her powers already gave her a confidence boost, so this is kinda of her react the edge of overconfident and argent. Luckily that happens very rarely and her sense of helping others fat outweighs her pride but since the Symbiote also enhances her emotions, it causes her to become a bit more flirty with Black Cat (Felicia Hardy) even though Ruby is already in a relationship with Weiss at this point and Ruby is really loyal to Weiss so she doesn’t flirt back. Unfortunately, the Symbiote increased Ruby’s attraction to Black Bat to actually ask her out on a Date Night of patrolling Vale and flirting on her like Neptune but it actually works and she keeps her attention on her throughout the night.

Luckily, Ruby spends more time with Weiss so their time together outweighs the flirting with Black Cat and makes their make out sessions a little heated. The times Ruby becomes are rare and only happens when a civilian is put in extreme danger, someone messes with the people closest to Ruby and anyone who thinks they’re a hero and are abusing their authority (corrupted officers and a specific White Fang Member, more in him soon). Due to theses rare moments of anger and the fact they happen because Ruby wants to protect someone this slowly causes the Symbiote to split into two different personalities that represent a part of Ruby herself. The Venom and Heroic sides. We’ll discuss those two soon. Since these two didn’t show up until Ruby’s final exchange with the Symbiote before getting rid of it and it finding a new host. Let’s move on to the events that led to this exchange.

The Spider Shows her Venom

(Alt Title: Adam’s Biggest Mistake!)

Ruby is using her free day to its full potential, patrolling the city of Vale and taking down purse snatchers in front of electronic stores. No really she is and that’s how she learns about the attack on Signal High. Rushing over and arriving at the school she sees there’s several police officers, police vehicles and people, students, teachers and civilians, all over the area. Spotting a big hole, probably made by an explosion, she swings over there and rushes in to to stop the White Fang. She meets up with Zwei, who leads her to where Weiss, Blake and Yang are, along the way in between fighting White Fang members she sees several dead bodies, both human and Faunus, it doesn’t surprise Ruby to see dead Faunus in this attack because they have done this before in the past, killing anyone who gets in their way. What really catches her off guard was the fact that there was also several White Fang members as well and they all shared similar injuries that the civilians had as well: sword slashes and stabs. The sign of Adam.

From the times Blake shared her past with Adam in the White Fang to Ruby and their friends, her interaction with the White Fang members who surrendered will to her and her fights with Adam she knew he was starting to lose patience with anyone who disagrees with his plans and methods. When Ruby finally found Weiss, Blake and Yang the sight that greeted her stop her in her tracks.

There they were Weiss, Blake and Yang surrounded by the reminding White Fang members, each of them battered and bruised with Adam standing over them, his sword drawn, over his head and the red of his clothing, mask and sword starting to glow.

Acting fast, Ruby web-zipped to Adam while pulling him towards herself and kicked him with both feet into him causing a cracking sound to be heard and he crashed through a wall of the room they were in. Using her tendrils to use two White Fang members as make shift humanoid wrecking balls against the other members and her other Symbiote abilities she was able to knockout the rest of the White Fang members in a few minutes.

Using her webbing to the stop the bleeding of their wounds until help arrived, she checked where Adam was to see he was gone, Ruby left a fist mark in the ground next to herself, she told Zwei to wait with them and she lefted to meet them at the hospital out of costume.

After making sure they were going to be alright, Jaune unknowingly giving her the excuse of needing some air to clear her head, she changes into her suit and heads off to find Adam. No matter what.

Going to a few warehouses at the docks provided to be a great idea when she found several White Fang members hiding out in there. With no patience for when Adam might show up or if they get contacted by him, Ruby decided to just give them a beat down until only one was left and interrogate them on Adam’s whereabouts. She did have a run in with the White Fang Lt. with her Symbiote abilities, her actions being fueled by rage and being rougher with her foes, she was able to take him with relative ease. With one White Fang member left, she tried to intimidate him into giving her the location of Adam but he was too loyal and blinded by Adam’s so called heroic cause.

She decided to give the loyal White Fang member what she thought about his so called “Heroic” leader. It was a little definitely a heated argument but in slowly turn to Ruby’s favor as she began to not hold back on her words and using her Symbiote abilities to keep him quiet for her words to get to him. She decided to get the information she was looking for by using an ability the Symbiote recently learned and wanted to test it on the White Fang member. Luckily for him the memory of Adam’s location was fairly recent enough for Ruby not to go further back in his memories and cause him more pain because of this new ability.

After getting the information from the White Fang member, who she tossed aside, she confronted Adam at his hidden location and instead of beating him like she did with the White Fang Lt. she decided to toy with him like how he did to Weiss, Blake and Yang. With his mutant powers that are similar to his Semblance from the show with the added bonus of using the energy to heal himself, Ruby decided that to her advantage. Using the resources around her, her high evasion skills and well placed hits to his sword to prevent her from injuring herself, she made sure he had enough energy to heal whatever injuries she gave him and continue their little “fights”.

Ruby decided to finish this “fight” between them by calling out Adam on his so called heroic acts like she did with the loyal White Fang member before and she hit him with moves that would look similar to a move Weiss, Blake Yang do with their respective weapons but in a physical form. A powerful punch like Yang’s from the Yellow Trailer (with the fist slam before it), a karate chop similar to a sword slash like Blake with her sword, a hand strike akin to a rapier trust like Weiss and a kick move similar to a move done with Crescent Rose. Badly beaten, Ruby had the perfect chance to end Adam right then and there but seeing her reflection in some shattered glass she started to remember why she became a hero and the words her late Uncle lived by as a Police Officer: I only take a life if there’s no other way.

Looking at the state she put Adam in, she knew he wasn’t a threat at the moment and with how bad his injuries were the police could easily take him in, so she started to walk away despite what the Symbiote was telling to do instead. She briefly stopped to give Adam warning for when he was going for his sword:

“Use that sword and loss a limb.”

Unfortunately, Adam couldn’t resist the chance to end Scatter-Spider completely forgetting about her Spider Sense and the fact she was still angry. In one quick moment, Adam had a broken arm that held his sword and Ruby was walking way with a new sword as a trophy.

The Breakup

(I know, I know.)

Ruby decided to go somewhere to clear her head and think about what she almost did. A nearby church seemed like a good place to think, it quiet, abandoned and she had it all to herself. This is where Ruby began her first and at the time last talk with her Symbiote. What Ruby didn’t know what that she was having a conversation with the two personalities she helped create for the Symbiote: the Venom and the Heroic side.

The conversation started with the Venom side saying that they could use Adam as an example to show Vale, show Remnant, what happens when criminals pull a similar stunt like he did and show everyone that this Spider (Ruby) is more than quips and laughs. They’ll show people their Venom!

The Heroic follows up with the idea that if they do this then they are keeping the people closest to Ruby safe and making sure nothing bad happens to them again.

Ruby rejects those ideas and tries to get the Symbiote off of her. During her struggles with the Symbiote she stumbles into the church bell causing the Symbiote to feel pain and give her the opportunity to get rid of it and turn back to her Street Suit. While catching her breathing, she gets a call from Jaune saying that Blake was missing from the hospital, wanting find her quickly Ruby swings over to where she thinks Blake might be heading. Leaving behind a sword and a rejected, hurt and angry Symbiote.

Here’s an image of Ruby finding Blake but the actual scene is different from this one. Mostly Ruby’s costume and that Blake (and WY) don’t know Ruby is Scatter-Spider yet. Ruby was wearing a tank top, her gloves and the bottom half of her first costume.

The Host that shows Venom

Banesaw/White Fang Lt becomes the Venom is this AU. The Venom side of the Symbiote takes over from here in terms of communication between host and Symbiote but it doesn’t share the memories of Ruby with him just her abilities since it wants to prove her that she needs the Symbiote.

Ruby’s fights with Venom alternate between fighting the host using the Symbiote and the Symbiote using the unconscious body of the Lt to continue fighting with Ruby and taunt her into letting it come back to her.

Fan to Agent

So in this AU Jaune has a similar role as Flash Thompson but more a line with him being a fan of Scatter-Spider (Ruby), he later becomes her eye in the sky after she told him her secret identity and became Agent Venom when they both got captured by the Remnant division of Sheild, run by Ozpin. Surprise, surprise.

When they were trying to escape, they ran into Venom, who tried to eat Jaune whole but unknowingly gave the Heroic side a chance to break with a new host and become a hero. Jaune jumped away from Venom with a new Symbiote on him giving a look similar to the Black Suit Spidey wears in the comics before Ruby tosses him some Shield body armor and giving the Venomized-ish look of his armor from the show.

Together they put Venom back into his cell, continue to fight for their escape and they free fall to freedom. Jaune uses the Symbiote’s shape shifting abilities to wing suit wings to help ease the trip back down to Vale.

Ruby was on edge about the Symbiote joining them but she decided to give it a chance and she helped train Jaune to use the Symbiote’s abilities.

Reluctant Reunion

Ruby would bond with the Heroic side of the Symbiote a few times here and there. Wether the situation needed Ruby’s on the spot combat creativity or Jaune was unavailable. The same thing as well for the Venom side as well, she would bond with it in desperate situations and if the situation required her to be extra angry.

...

And that’s about it for now, I guess. This was kinda written during some late nights but most of it was written during the day. Be free to ask me questions about anything.

Thoughts, ideas and anything else to add will be appreciated! Just try to think from a different perspective once in a while! See ya!

#ruby rose #rwby #crossover #spiderman #fan art #marvel #scatterspider au #digital art #jaune arc #agent venom #white fang #white fang lt #adam taurus #venom symbiote

[sebthesnipe]

The Dreamer by Whatwashernameagin an Analysis? Part 4

All portions:

Chapter 1: Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Chapter 2: Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

The Dreamer

@whatwashernameagain

It is finally here… sorry I took so long. Life has been… hectic to say the least.

Reminder: Spoilers under cut!

So, if you remember correctly (I know its been awhile), we left off just before the cut to Roman and Logan’s first meeting. The scene starts off with rain… but Eva’s use of descriptors is always so pure and beautiful I can’t resist quoting it here. “Rain was beating against the window in heavy sheets of freezing water coming down hard on the city. The air felt alive with crackling currents of lightning and rumbling thunder almost constantly growling like an ancient, rumbling animal. It was a particularly nasty day, perfect for what the media preposterously called’ villainy’, which [Logan] did not intend to be involved in today. At all” (Whatwashernameagain).

*rubs hands together deliciously* Oh the imagery….

So! Here we go! First off, rain is symbolic in a lot of different literature styles to represent a wide variety of things. In dreams, water can represent a number of things depending on the source. Rivers can symbolize emotions, something changing, or the need to change. Rain tends to reveal emotions as well, usually strong feelings, depression or despair… even rejection, anger, grief. Thunder accompanying rain can be a warning sign that you are not paying close enough attention to someone’s needs, or possibly your own. Or it can simply be used to bring your attention to something important in life. Generally dreaming about a heavy rain storm such as this would indicate something unfortunate or a problematic event that could cause you a lot of turmoil in the near future; an incoming loss or losses.

You may think I’m getting off topic but I’m really not. Sure, Logan isn’t dreaming… But Eva is! What is a story but a daydream written down on a piece of paper (or in this case typed up on a blog)? According to Freud (yes, we’re gong back to Psychoanalysis Theory in Literature); dreams are our subconscious trying to warn/tell us about ourselves, even if we don’t want to hear it (Rivkin, Julie). In this case, the cold sheets of rain are a foreshadow of what is to come; the pain and turmoil that will no doubt will be dropped into our laps… especially Logan’s lap. The change/character development that Logan is about to go through... What could this be foreshadowing? Well… Eva writes that the freezing water was coming down hard on the city…. Not just Logan… So… What ever is about to happen is about to affect everyone… It is not an isolated incident... whatever/whoever is about to happen is important to the city/world, not just Logan. And the only person that could really have that much reach besides Logan himself: The Dreamer; everyone’s hero… The shining hope that spreads warmth where ever he goes… Whatever is about to happen… ain’t going to be pretty… (Well, aside from Roman himself… He’s pretty no matter what but you get what I’m saying).

Secondly, Eva and her similes are always fantastic: “rumbling thunder almost constantly growling like an ancient, rumbling animal” (Whatwashernameagain). The imagery, itself causes the reader to picture some incorporeal creature hidden behind the clouds, growling and hissing at the world below. The dark feeling pulling the foreshadowing blanket closer around the reader, almost suffocatingly so.

Eva switches back to her usual humorous self just as easily as ever, making fun of the media and their reference to ‘villainy’ and pointing out that Logan had no intentions of such things… at least not with the weather as it was… Why is that so amusing? Well, here is a man who is willing to kill, topple multi-million companies, go toe to toe with a superhero… sitting at home in his jammies and sipping tea… It is adorably hilarious! It also humanizes Logan. His usual cold harsh calculating demeanor is stripped away. We see, perhaps for the first time, the /real/ Logan; just relaxing at home. Its... nice... comforting... 

TOO BAD ITS ALL ABOUT TO BE RUINED!!!!

Within the next para my suspicions are confirmed. “Since Logan was, per definitionem, a human, it should not be surprising that he was unwinding at home at a day such as this. In a fluffy sweater falling over his hands and hips, wool socks pulled over the hem of his sweatpants, curled up with a mug of cocoa in a nest of pillows at his window” (Whatwashernameagain). Granted I already knew this was coming because I’ve read it, but it doesn’t make the imagery of this big bad villain in an oversized sweater any less adorable. If you aren’t aware of this already… I love Logan so much T.T. It doesn’t help that Eva adds to the adorable image with an italicized ‘No one must ever know.’ I’d bet a certain amount of money that Remy has feeds of Logan lounging around in his comfy wear and cocoa watching Disney movies (to criticize how illogical certain actions are both physically and mentally, of course… no other reasons… at all) that he keeps in a secure folder for whenever he needs a pick me up and shows them to Logan whenever he just wants to mess with the villain. But the italicized thought lends to the fact that once again Logan is no doubt ashamed of his humanity and wishes to keep it hidden, away from the world... away from himself. Sure its mostly for image purposes but in the end, he is not someone who takes to his human side lightly. 

Going back to the story… A knock at the door?! -gasp- Who could it be?! Once again, I love Eva’s imagery; “He barely heard the knock on his door over the growling akin to boulders sliding against each other and the pitter-patter against his window” (Whatwashernameagain). She doesn’t stretch so far to make the reader work to see the image she’s painting but just far enough that they are unique yet manageable. I’m not going to go back into the psychoanalysis for the rain but I will say that bringing it up here is a fantastic way to connect the foreshadowing in the first paragraph I’ve mentioned to the one we are on currently, bringing us full circle and signaling that whatever turmoil is meant for Logan begins here. It is also nice because it allows the mood to change so easily from humor to seriousness once more… Though… discovering Remus is an ACTUAL lizard made me squeal a bit. That was such a sweet and adorable nod to the character that I can’t even be upset that he’s not a bigger part of the story… He’s a freaking lizard!!! I love it!!!!

We see Logan freeze and follow his train of thought as he approaches the door cautiously. We see apart of him that we’ve known is there but haven’t really experienced. Logan has been calculating and cold throughout the story, only taking risks where the benefit outweighed the danger but now… now we see his paranoia…. His isolation. He mentions that no one knew his address and even his neighbors stayed away due to his intimidation and cool manners. He calls his home a ‘fort of solitude’ (no doubt a play on Superman’s Fortress of Solitude but that’s a-whole-nother thing I’m not gonna get into), something he had cultivated carefully, and the very reason he wares the mask that he apparently finds ridiculous. But it also shows us how little he interacts with the outside world... the fact that he has no one. His only friend is a computer he created himself. It lends to the loneliness I’ve mentioned before. The lack of companionship and friends... Logan is utterly and completely alone. Its almost heartbreaking. 

This is the only place he feels safe. The only place he can be himself. Sure, he doesn’t change himself too much when he is out being the Utilitarianist but… this is different. He doesn’t have to hide behind anything there. He can just sit back and relax, try not to be reminded of all that is wrong with the world. He can just be… him. Which honestly… is surprisingly difficult for most people to achieve and he has it… right there. With his comfy sweater and favorite cocoa… Except… now he has to worry about whoever is on the other side of the door, invading his only place of safety.

The symbology is here too, though most would overlook it. Logan’s home could symbolize himself, considering, in essence, a person’s home is exactly as I described: a place they could be their true selves and relax. Its so personal and private. His home which he has built to be the foundation of his work… of himself, is now being invaded by an outside source and throwing everything off balance. This outside source being The Dreamer. The catch is… this isn’t the first time this has happened… though it is the first time it physically has.

Roman has invaded Logan’s thoughts and processes long before he showed up at the villain’s door. He has thrown Logan way off, forcing him to feel things, to argue with him, to aim for things he shouldn’t want. Roman has forced Logan out of his comfort zone mentally a number of different times and for any individual that can be upsetting but for someone who is unaccustomed to regular emotions…how prides themselves in their control...  it can be earthshattering. Logan who already sees a hope in Roman, a light, that he doesn’t want to want and yet does; Logan who is being betrayed by his human side, despite being driven by logic, has been invaded by a presence he never asked for… by Roman himself and the worst part is… The hero has no idea whatsoever…He’s like penicillin... A fungi Logan never wanted and yet can heal so many things if he would just let it but the risk is way too great... The chances of the fungi growing out of control and destroying everything Logan is is far too great...  and now… Now, Roman is there… physically invading Logan’s sanctuary; no doubt stirring up all these unwanted feelings once more. The fear is no doubt the worst though… Logan hasn’t calculated Roman knowing who he is, where he was… He hasn’t calculated any of this. Suddenly Logan’s foundation, his safety net, his computer like calculations have failed him… Everything is crumbling with fear and its only been a microsecond. Could you possibly imagine how terrifying that could be?

With the state of terror Logan no doubt feels, it is no wonder that the villain bolts away from the door and brandishes a weapon. Its as if he’s attempting to put as much distance between them both physically and mentally as possible. This is no doubt a fight or flight type of response for Logan which is such a human reaction, driven by his fear rather than logic which no doubt annoys the man even more.

Eva goes on to describe an interaction between Logan and the Supercomputer which brings to light a bit more about Logan’s reactions and Remy’s motives. We see Logan slowly returning to his more logical demeanor, obviously beginning to gain the upper hand in his battle against his instincts. He questions Remy about how Roman managed to get to the front door as he does his best to remain calm, reminding the reader, and no doubt himself, that he was trained in a number of martial arts. Which honestly, I love the idea of seeing our precious nerd in white robes throwing punches or kicks around a room… He’s just so… adorable I love it! Remy responds with his usual sass ‘not even considering lowering his volume’, which only brings our attention back to the turmoil Logan is no doubt going through (a freezing rain storm you might say). The words about Remy’s volume and the cringe Logan offers at the thought of the door being busted in only cements the villain’s terrified state. The conversation goes on, Remy with his usual sass and Logan in his frustrated trepidation.

Remy finally admits why the hero is there and Logan stands dumbfounded at discovering that Roman is injured, hurrying back to the window to peak out and get a good look at the other man. Why would his enemy come to him? Why would Roman show up injured unless it was some sort of trap or game plan Logan hadn’t thought of... no doubt, all of these questions are running through the man’s mind.

 “The Dreamer was still there, leaning against the side of the building in the middle of the freezing rain, drenched to the bone. His head was lowered as if he were close to losing consciousness” (Whatwashernameagain). There is so much to be said here… ugh… okay… first lets touch on Roman…

****CHAPTER 2 SPOILERS****

Roman is standing hunched over, the image weakness, and obviously about to pass out. This could symbolize a lot of things from the state of our planet, to the political climate in America. In Chapter 2 we learn a lot about how he was mistreated and abused but this… this is another sense of foreshadowing. Here the shining hope of the world is drenched in the rain, huddled and shivering, nothing that he is supposed to be. The symbolism alone hurts.

The symbol of hope in the world is dying. Roman is not just a man. He is THE Dreamer… Without him the world would be lightless… darkness everywhere… no one and nothing to look up to. Now, I realize that Eva probably wasn’t going for this but… I really need to because its beautiful.  The Dreamer, is broken, battered and bruised, used by the people who were meant to help him, mold him to save the world, to make the world a better place. The very same people that promised him they’d achieve his dream together. What could this possibly symbolize? Well, a lot of things really… Consider this… The state of America right now… politicians promising to make America Great Again, making people believe that everything was going to get better… but then they sew hate for one another, invite discourse and rage… threaten war with other countries, all in the name of ‘the people’ leaving the country in the same state Roman currently is: Battered, bruised and thoroughly used. 

If that symbol wasn’t good enough you could always look at the state of the planet… The planet providing us with everything she has, food, water, shelter… and humanity cutting down the rainforest, killing off species, polluting waters, slaughtering animals for money… don’t get me started on the sharks in china… or the elephants in Africa… I think I need to switch the subject again sorry… But it /is/ a good example… And if Roman is on the doorstep to Logan’s home… He probably has realized the fissures he’s caused in society and that Logan may be his only chance. Logan is all he has to turn to, just like the planet has no one but us to try and care for it. 

Here Roman sits, bleeding out… The symbol of the people… the same people (though not all of them of course) who would see him exploited and abused, tortured and experimented on for their own gain… The symbol of hope which is dimming due to the very people he is meant to shine for… In the same sense humanity destroys the ecosystem around them and yet demands more from it. We poison our water, ourselves… the land you name it; all in the name of bettering ourselves… Roman does the same. He pushes himself to be better for the world… do better for the world… but as he does, he’s sowing the seeds for the rich, killing himself in the process… All because he was willing to give too much. His intentions are so pure and yet the results are so horrible; and the public is completely fooled.  He is what can happen without change.

The analogies I used may be a bit confusing I apologize it is very late and I’m very tired, but I hope I got it across. Roman’s symbolization of both the American political climate and/or the environmental war we live in today is just so moving to me that I don’t know how to put it into words.

  ***END OF CHAPTER 2 SPOILERS***

Here Roman sits, on the doorstep of his archenemy the last man you’d expect him to turn to, needing help. The light is gone. There is no hope… The hope that had been there is now washed away with the rain… the only thing left is a man… a man wounded and alone…  There is no Dreamer here, not right now… And without Logan there is no hope for him.

The change from Roman being Logan’s sense of hope, his source of emotions, to Logan now carrying the torch is so drastic and sudden it sends the reader reeling beautifully. Here stands a man who wanted nothing to do with any of the feelings Roman causes, is now forced to carry it all, and so suddenly… Logan is now Roman’s hope... his lifeline.. The roles have been reversed... It makes for quite the anti-hero. And Eva managed all of this with just a single sentence (“The Dreamer was still there, leaning against the side of the building in the middle of the freezing rain, drenched to the bone. His head was lowered as if he were close to losing consciousness” (Whatwashernameagain).) If that isn’t talent, then I don’t know what is.

Directly after this line, we get to see Logan’s reaction: “Utterly foregoing any logical deliberation for perhaps the first time in his life, Logan ripped the door open” (Whatwashernameagain). This is another fantastic line. Why? Because we get to see more of the real Logan that he tries to push away and pretend doesn’t exist. You see, as the Utilitarianist, Logan doesn’t think about ‘the individual’ that’s not what he’s supposed to focus on. Logan is supposed to focus on what would do the most good for the most people. He doesn’t sweat the small stuff. It is another one of those stark contrasts between he and Roman. Roman is all about the individual; taking down bad guys left and right, caring about each individual rescue. Here though… Logan has forgotten himself to his human ego once more. He has thrown his safety blanket, the very thing he defines himself, his logic, to the wind. This is another great foreshadowing tool (though I’m only guessing its foreshadowing). Logan has stripped himself of, what he feels like, is his only defining feature. Without his logic, what is Logan? He is just a man, isn’t he? Or is it possible that he is something else entirely? Something more than just a man; something less than one? I’m not talking about super heroes or supervillains. I mean identifying himself as a person. Roman has now pushed Logan to be something, or someone Logan had never considered, had never been brave enough to consider. Could it be that with Roman’s help he’ll turn into Logan 2.0. That is not to say that O.G. Logan was bad or by any means lessor but Logan 2.0… Well, he’s already learning to be the beacon of hope for Roman… and now he has thrown his logic out the window? Perhaps they will do a number on each other? Oh… eh… I mean… on each other’s personalities and ethics…. Yeah… ethics…

Getting back to the story!

Roman takes in the sight of Logan above him, a bit startled as he does so. After everything Roman’s been through that is not surprising… He also has taken quite a risk coming to the villain. He is injured and no doubt would make an easy target if Logan so chose, but the thing about Roman is hope, just as I’ve been saying (am I a broken record yet?). We’ve learned that Roman has a naive sense of positivity  in everything he does… I mean… he’s named himself The Dreamer, after all… There is no reason he shouldn’t have it in this as well. Alone, wounded, and at the mercy of whoever he turns to, Roman chose Logan… The Utilitarianist, to save him; clinging to his hope that the good he has seen in this man, the man who has saved him once before with no foreseeable ulterior motive, is real. And for a moment, seeing Logan hovering over him, blade in hand, he probably doubted himself. But… the thing is… If Roman truly believed Logan would hurt him, he would fight in this instant… Roman may be injured and hopeless but from what we’ve learned about him he’s not a quitter… No, he trusts his hope… his heart… He truly believes Logan is a good man and that is cemented and proven by his reaction: “He was looking up at him like a drowned, frightened cat, caramel hair sticking to his ashen face, none of his usual latino-tan to be seen... Logan had never seen him look this beaten. His usually bright green eyes blinked up at him through rain-soaked lashes, apparently barely able to focus on him. He looked dazed” (Whatwashernameagain).

Again, Eva is wonderful with her similes ‘like a drowned, frightened cat’. It’s the use of literary devices like these that help breath life into a scene. While the reader could no doubt visualize Roman’s wounded stature, the expression is something that is a bit harder to describe so it’s the use of things like similes that really aide the author when used correctly and I truly do love the image of the big sullen eyes on Roman’s face… just beautiful.

Logan is the first to speak. What would you say in a situation like this? No one would really know until they were put into a situation like this… though I feel as if Eva grasped that really well hen Logan asks what sounds like a stupid question. He asks if Roman was drugged; not an ‘are you alright’ or ‘what happened’ because in reality most of us probably wouldn’t respond in such a manner as that if the person we thought hated us appeared on our doorstep bleeding. No, Logan asked the first thing that came to his mind, humanizing him even more. It was quite lovely; a perfect response.

“The Dreamer swallowed visibly, apparently unable to form words. His wide eyes were wet with tears – washed away before they had a chance to fall. Fear was an unfamiliar look on his attractive face, yet it was clear in the bright flashes of lightning that he was afraid. He looked up at Logan, trembling with exhaustion and pain. His features twisted as he tried to hold back a sob that seemed painful on his torso” (Whatwashernameagain).

This must be even more shocking for Logan…. Logan who doesn’t work with emotion… Logan who doesn’t socialize outside of his work, Remy, and his online source… Logan who detests the very idea of intense emotional outburst is now faced with his archenemy’s tears… Roman is crying! The Dreamer is crying! And while we realize that the superhero is broken (as does Roman if the tears are anything to go by; finding that his own dreams are shattered; he is now broken inside and out), that hope is fading, this is perhaps the first time the realization really strikes Logan. The fear in his rival’s features, the exhaustion and pain… that sob! None of these things are things Logan is accustomed to handling, none of these things are things that he is prepared to deal with especially coming from a man he admires and respects (though he’d never admit it). So, not only is the villain, no doubt terrified, but now he is no doubt concerned, filled with worry, and doubt. He has not had to comfort someone before... Medically he can no doubt handle this situation but... dealing with Roman’s emotions... Its way out of his comfort zone, especially when he’s barely able to handle his own at the moment. 

Roman apologizes explaining that he didn’t know where else to turn (which honestly eliminates the idea I had that his ‘sidekick’ had figured out where Logan lived and led Roman there to be saved); reinforcing the idea that Roman’s hope is what led him to the villain. He then collapsing, Logan hurrying forward to catch the man, discarding his weapon in the process; his weapon his only real defense against the man… the only barrier between the two of them, keeping them in their rightful places: Roman as a hero, Logan as a villain. And yet… now they sit, huddled in the ran on the steps of his home, nothing to divide them. There is no logic here… no place for it. They’re on the same side now… Their own. Everything Logan has been so adamant about is gone in this moment...  The lines drawn by society have disappeared. 

“’Oh no no no.’ Logan muttered, carefully cradling the back of the man’s head in his palm as he examined him” (Whatwashernameagain). Logan takes such care in handling this man, the man he’s supposed to despise… the ‘thorn in his shoe’; already showing signs of the changes we will no doubt get to witness in the coming chapters. He cradles him as if he is fragile, because at the moment he is… he’s barely hanging on and Logan is going to put that big sexy brain of his to work to figure out how to avoid this. Logan lifts the larger man off the ground to carry him inside no doubt but something Eva writes catches my attention:

“[Logan] had been careful to keep his emotional distance from this man as much as he possibly could, but as he looked down at his pained, helpless face, he could not think of him as anyone but Roman” (Whatwashernameagain).

I think this is the best way she could have ended this chapter. She brings us full circle into what Logan is meant to be and what he is not. She brings to light his struggle when it comes to emotions and the desire to be rid of them… of the suppression towards them when it involves Roman. The same desire and suppression we saw at the beginning of the chapter and now the character development we see in him now. He is throwing his logic out the window to care for his only friend… though he has not quite realized that he is his only friend… We feel his desperation, his need, to save Roman… and while he carries Roman over his shoulder into safety… he carries the very hope he has yearned for… both physically and metaphorically… The hope he has never wanted to be and yet... is forced to be now...

Thank you so much for baring with me through all my sporadic and eccentric rambling. I really hope you enjoyed it! Thank you so much to Whatwashernameagain for writing such an amazing piece and reblogging my work. I love reading your reactions!

This is the end of Chapter 1. I plan on writing Chapter 2 as soon as possible, but with the holidays and finals coming up it may be a bit; so, stay tuned!

I’d love to hear from you guys so drop me a message or an ask, or even a comment!

I love you all!

Until next time!

   Rivkin, Julie. Literary Theory: a Practical Introduction. Wiley-Blackwell, 2017.

“Utilitarianism.” Dictionary.com, Dictionary.com, https://www.dictionary.com/browse/utilitarianism.

Whatwashernameagain. “The Dreamer - Chapter 1.” Hello Guys Gals And Non Binary Friends, 8 Sept. 2019, https://whatwashernameagain.tumblr.com/post/187581477262/the-dreamer-chapter-1.

#The Dreamer #villain!logan #hero!Roman #Sanders sides #logince #logan sanders #roman sanders #logan/roman #roman/logan #analysis #reader response #reaction #fanfication #whatwashernameagain

[xshow-me-some-moxie]

We’re Back...with Snacks

["Cin! Still— ah, damn it— still with us, doll?"]

{"…Yes. What isss— Happening. To us?"}

["We couldn't answer that, not really, just as in the dark as Cin when it came to this particular brand of dimensional travel. We're going back, Cin."]

{"Back. …Home?"}

["It should have been, a few weeks ago it would have been. But, a lot changed in a few weeks. Now when we thought about home it wasn't our empty cave and alimony checks we thought of, but a pair of fierce purple ({"Blue."}) …purple eyes, a wicked smile, the best natural instincts we've ever seen, and a serious need for someone to watch out for her so she didn't run herself into the ground. The only one who would miss us in our universe was Aunt May, and God knew she was the last person who needed us. May was the strongest, most independent person we knew, she would understand why we had to leave."]

{"Ssso…back. Then home. Again."}

["Yeah, Cin, we're going back."]

Going back took Noir nearly two years.

After a painful reentry to his apartment, the first thing he did was check that Carcinogen survived the transition, and when she was no worse for wear he took in his apartment and was mortified. It was a disaster. He wasn't particularly meticulous when it came to cleaning (especially because the FBI boys who stopped in more often than he liked always left the place a mess, so what was the point?), but this was bad and…extensive? It wasn't just a mess made, but things had been moved, the dust patterns different all around the room.

It was like…

Behind his mask Noir's eyes narrowed and then he was moving to his bedroom, throwing the door open. The sight he was greeted with had him scowling, nothing was where he left it. Someone had been living in his apartment. Noir was getting a headache, and that was before he found a calendar and realised that three years had gone by.

After that Noir decided to get very drunk before he figured out what to do next.

It took Noir nearly a year to get his affairs back in order after having been gone for three years. He wasn't sure how the other him had managed to inhabit his life for three years, but he'd managed to gum up the works in a spectacular manner. And while he wasn’t planning on staying in his dimension longer than he had to (or coming back, for that matter), Karn had made it clear it would take time to locate Gwen and so Noir was forced to ungum the works while he waited.

Quite a bit of the next year was spent in Loomworld, Noir doing his best to not let Carcinogen goad him into actually shooting Karn. The Master Weaver was having trouble locating Gwen and Noir had no patience for it. The only thing that kept him from pulling the trigger was the fact he knew he couldn't get back to Gwen without him…and he didn't want to deal with Billie's reaction— he was betting it would be more than his Disappointed Face.

Finally, the day came that Karn found the proper thread and informed Noir that he found Gwen. Noir spared only the time to pack three web sacks, one full of junk food that he knew his girl would appreciate, one full of his own essentials including a spare suit and his winter gear (and the recipe for egg creams which he had had to wrangle out of a bartender he knew), and the other full of lead.

Noir had assumed the trip back to Dollface's dimension wouldn't be that bad as he'd travelled via Karn's web more than once in the past, but this was different. Heat followed at his back and when he appeared on the rooftop of his building he immediately collapsed the burning getting worse despite the fact the rain was coming down in sheets.

"Aaargh!" The sound of his yell was dampened by the rain, Noir curling into a ball, fingers dragging at his shoulders and neck. His skin felt like it was on fire. Like he could feel every single one of Cin's millions of tiny legs and they were all red hot.

["Cin, why—"] "Damn it!" ["Why are we hurting us?!"]

{"NOT US. Hurtsss, Noir. Sscared."}

Writhing on the rooftop Noir realised just how much trouble he was in. If this wasn't Cin, and it wasn't him, it had to be something with this kooky bubble and since it turned him into a vampire last time he wasn't looking forward to whatever it was doing this time.

["We had never felt pain that bad—"] in his life. It was ["like we were being ripped apart from—"] the inside out. The only thing he knew for ["certain was that the source of the pain was—"]

{"NO!"}

Noir screamed as the symbiotic mass wrapped even more tightly around him— whatever was going on in this dimension was causing his body to reject the bond which made the symbiotes hug feel more like death. ["We can't take this, Cin! Too much—"] "more and we're going" ["to kill us!"] Despair was in both his voice and his thoughts, not wanting to break the bond, but it was becoming more and more clear that if they didn't they weren't going to survive.

{"…Leave alone?"}

Noir grit his teeth even as he forced his hands to pat his pockets, desperately searching for the flask he kept on his person. ["Not—"] "for lon—" ["g. We promise."] Shaking hands had finally managed to find the flask, but his fingers were trembling too violently for him to unscrew the cap. "Damn!" This time when he yelled Carcinogen yelled with him, the sound terrifyingly inhuman as dark tendrils lashed out at the rain.

["Please, Cin, if we—"] "die then Cin is" ["alone forever. No Noir."]

For a moment he thought Cin's immediate fear of being separated from him was going to outweigh her desire to keep him alive, but then three thin tendrils reached for the cap of the flask twisting it open. Noir's entire body sagged, relief mixing with the pain. ["Thank you, Cin. It won't be"] "for forever." Only until Noir figured out what the hell was going on.

{"Noir."}

As much as Noir had learned about symbiotes in the past two years he still wasn't sure if they felt emotions the same way people did, but even through the pain and the fear he felt himself get choked up and it wasn't because of the pain. ["We know, Cin. Us too."]

The cap flipped open then and Carcinogen streamed inside, ejecting the web sacks she’d been storing in her mass onto the roof next to Noir and consuming the egg cream the flask had been filled with to make room for all of her. As the last tiny spider crawled inside a black tendril snaked out of the mouth, grabbed the cap, and pulled it down, twisting it tightly closed from the inside.

As the immediate connection between them broke Peter was in a completely different kind of pain, the physical replaced with that of loss and the feeling of being utterly alone for the first time in two years. Curling himself around the flask Peter wasn't sure how long he shook before he was all cried out, but he was definitely soaked through by the time he sat up.

Now that he wasn't in massive amounts of pain (just bearable amounts, the effects of the rejected bond lingering) the man was able to take in the world around him and he realised immediately that he was no longer enhanced. He couldn't hear anything but the rain pounding on the rooftop, and when he looked at the web sacks next to them they were blurry blobs more than sacks.

["No wonder w—"] 

Peter swallowed hard, letting that train of thought go so that he didn't have to think about the fact that he was once again an 'I' instead of a 'We'.

Thankfully, despite losing Carcinogen's suit, Peter wasn't completely naked, his trench coat and fedora the same ones he had always worn. His movements were slow as he dragged the sack with his own belongings in it to him, tearing it open with some difficulty to extract his original black suit. Changing out in the rain wasn't the smartest idea he'd ever had, but he couldn't bring himself to care. 

Once he was dressed he gathered up the bags with a bit of difficulty, forgetting what it was like to move without preternatural balance and agility. He was at least able to carry the weight. He wasn't as strong as he normally was, but he'd been tall and broad even before the spider bit him and he still seemed to possess the muscles he had gained from two decades of web swinging and punching bad guys.

With Cin's flask safely tucked away in an inside pocket of his trench Peter made his way down the fire escape. Even moving slowly he nearly slipped on the wet metal twice, and it was a relief to reach his window. Jimmying the window up Noir ducked inside, immediately tripping over a hamper someone had left in front of the window, curling in on himself as he rolled, landing on his back near the middle of the living room, grimacing behind his mask, the web sacks scattered over the floor around him.

"Dang nabbit, Dollface!"

@spideyygwen

#spideyygwen #We’re Back...with Snacks #rp #1x1 #0700: with great power #ch: gwen

[amydancepants-peralta]

we won’t run (ch 3)

and I’m bleeding right before the lord

(ao3)

From her position above her prey, Rosa snarls - baring her teeth in a perfect white line before bearing down with her fist, rendering the man below unconscious with one swift punch.  Smiling in triumph as his body falls limp, she raises herself up, reaching for her favourite weapon and swinging high.  The sharp blade catches onto its target, slicing easily through the rope that anchored a tapestry to the palace wall and she watches as the drapery falls, covering several of the fighters in a heavy blanket of dust and fabric. 

The peaceful melody of string music quickly disappears, musicians running for cover as the sound of clashing metal begins filling the great hall.  Dresses spin as women push through the crowd - the once calm evening of restraint now diverting into a swirl of chaos as war begins to rage.  The people of Brooklyne were here to reclaim what was rightfully theirs, and they weren’t going to back down without a fight. 

One hour earlier ... 

“Sir Charles.”

A long held habit kicks in and Charles drops his head towards the stone floor, bending at the waist before returning his sights back to the man in front of him.  “King Holt.”

“I apologise for my over the top reaction.  It’s safe to say that I am surprised to see you here.  Stunned even.  Absolutely flummoxed.”

Charles nods politely, fighting back a smile.  The total lack of visual reaction (save for a brief smile) from his king was exactly how he remembered things being.  He raises his dagger, pointing it towards the chain holding Holt down, and raises his eyebrows in silent offering.  Seeing the curt nod in response, he quickly drops to his knees.  

“I need you to tell me everything.  Start from the beginning, and leave no detail unturned.”

His head pulls back slightly at the unexpected request.  Shrugging, he begins.  “Well, I was born out in a field that my great-aunt Susan had been growing herbs in -”  Holt raises his hand, breaking the conversation.

“No.  Not since your beginning.  Pembroke.  Tell me everything that has happened since my departure.”

He can feel his skin heating up as the embarrassment rushes through him, and Charles nods again, hands busy with working on unlocking the padlock that kept his ruler captive.  Swiftly, he ran through the story as he knew it - the duplicity of Pembroke’s rule; the story about Holt’s death that he had so easily crafted; the reports of his greed coming in from various provinces …. Resting for a moment, he tells Holt of Jake’s disagreement with Pembroke, and how it had resulted in his best friend walking away from the only thing in his life he had worked hard for.  After that, Charles explained, all he had known was the inside of his own cell.  

Holt is quiet for a moment as Charles goes back to work on the chain, his eyes taking on a faraway look.  “I’m not surprised that Peralta did that,” he said quietly.  “There were many times that his cavalier attitude towards situations left me in a great state of frustration.  But there is a sense of honour to Jacob, a belief in a life where all is fair and equal, that led me to believe that despite his weaknesses he would turn into a truly admirable member of the Royal Guard.  If Pembroke had made him follow a law that he didn’t believe in, I can absolutely see him walking away from it all.”

Charles nods eagerly, letting out a sigh of relief as the padlock on Holt’s chain releases, hitting the stone floor with a heavy thunk.  “Jakey is the best, he really is.”

Rubbing the skin that had finally been freed from rusty metal, Holt turns to Charles with a serious nod.  “Good work, Sir Charles.  Now, tell me about this passageway you came through.”

“Honestly, Sir, I’m not sure where it’s going to lead us.  Just before I’d gotten to you, I had reached a juncture.  And there was a small torch lit about halfway along the walkway that brought me to your cell.  I began searching the stones, just like I had before, and then … there you were.”

He nods slowly, pursing his lips as his eyes roam over the cell that had been his home for far too long.  “I believe, Sir Charles, that the benefits of exploring these mysterious caverns outweigh the costs of staying stagnant.  I say we continue on.  Do you concur?”

“I do, your majesty.”

“I am not your King anymore, Sir Charles.”

“With all due respect sir, I disagree.”  Boyle’s heart quickens a little in fear as Holt stares back at him.  “As far as I’m concerned, you never stopped being my King.  And now that we can prove that Pembroke stole the throne, I am certain that the people of Brooklyne will agree.”

The older man nods, the faint whisper of a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.  “One can only hope.”

*

It had been several months since Jake had stepped foot within the castle’s walls, and as they move through the forecourt and into the keep his eyes scour the room, taking in all the changes King Pembroke had made. 

Holt’s palace had held banners of all five precincts on proud display in every hall.  It had been a home for art of various creators within the villages, regardless of whether the piece had been widely lauded or quietly discussed.  Representation had been important to him, and the people had loved him for it.  Pembroke’s palace had mirrors at every corner, dotted by painted murals of great battles he claimed to be a part of.  His crest, which looked remarkably similar to that of an earlier King’s, was emblazoned onto thick hand sewn banners, manipulating every room with its ostentatious colour scheme.  

He shifts uncomfortably, tugging on the lapel of his jacket to bring it slightly closer to his chest.  It should be warmer, now that the brick walls sheltered them from the nighttime chill.  But it was bitterly cold.  There was a distinct lack of joy in the air, similar smiles of ignorance and obligation stretching across each guest’s face as they made their way through.  In the corner, a quartet of musicians strummed their lutes and citterns to an uplifting melody, forced merriment falling on deaf ears, fading forgotten into the night.  

As he shuffles along Jake shifts his gaze towards Amy, having recently been pulled away from him by Gina.  They were huddled together, whispering about something, and as he stood watching Amy raised her head, eyes locking immediately on his with an unreadable expression crossing her face.

The memory of yesterday’s confession was still clear in his mind.  Truth be told, when the day had started out there hadn’t been any intention for him to let his heart bleed out like he had.  But standing in the field with her, discussing their plans for the night, his mind had begun to consider all the things that could go wrong, and how there was the very real possibility that it could end without him ever being able to tell Amy how he really felt.  And the pain of that was greater than anything else he could imagine, and so he’d put it all on the line.

To see the shake of her head at his words had hurt more than he was willing to describe, but oddly he found that he still didn’t regret saying them.  She was, after all, the greatest thing to come into his life in the longest time, and if the only way to ensure that he could still be around her was to be her friend, then so be it.  

The fact that his heart had become fully invested in her was something that he would just have to learn to live with.    

An obnoxious voice roars over the quartet from a room to their left, demanding their presence within The Great Hall - a room within the keep that he’d only seen once before.  Jake clenches his jaw as he runs through a mental checklist of the night’s plan, reaching instinctively for Amy as the role of Johnny and Dora come into play.   

He glances at her briefly as she grips onto his offered arm, turning away before he finds himself getting lost in her gaze again (while he may not be able to help how he felt, he certainly wasn’t going to make Amy feel bad about it).  His mouth feels dry, and he takes a heavy swallow to try and encourage the chance to speak once more.  

If there was anything that was certain about tonight, it was that The Great Hall was definitely living up to it’s name.  A rich red tapestry covered the floor, gold damask smothering the fibres.  Tall brass urns burned a healthy fire from their holders high above the guest’s heads, and the ceiling held home to numerous chandeliers, all lit with robust candles.  

A larger orchestra stands in the corner, their thin and ill-rehearsed repertoire fighting with the acoustics of the hall.  Their faces turn nervously towards the King’s throne with every pluck of the strings, obviously fearful of the ramifications of displeasing their master.

To the right of them sat a banquet, covered in an array of food far more extravagant than necessary.  Brass goblets, encrusted with gemstones and other delusions of grandeur were scattered around the surface, accompanied by bottles of wine both white and red.  In the middle of it all sat a mural of the King himself, depicted through the contrasting colours of seasonal fruits.  From the safety of his mask, Jake rolls his eyes at the display.  It was ridiculous, the lengths that Pembroke’s narcissism went to.

At the front of the room, four steps higher than the crowd, stood an ornate throne emblazoned with The Vulture’s name.  A cushion, covered in red velvet and embroidered with his initials, sat waiting for the royal caboose.  A step below, and on either side of the throne, sat a long line of bench seats that began filling with his stolen women, each face looking sadder than the last as they enter and take their place.  Hidden in the shadows underneath the bench ran a long and heavy looking chain - shackles open and waiting for their victims.

Jake feels Amy stiffen beside him as a woman in a green dress covered in peacock feathers makes her way to the edge of the seats, and he turns his head just enough to whisper - “Kylie?”  She nods, chewing on her bottom lip, and he finds himself resting his spare hand against hers.  Seeing her safe and sound was probably no consolation to knowing that her friend was still under Pembroke’s control, and it is all Jake can do to not throw caution to the wind, pull out a dagger and declare war right there and then.  His mind represses the mental image of Charles, hidden somewhere under lock and key, and runs through the plan once again.

A quiet rumble runs through the room as more guests appear, various aristocrats reaching out gloved hands in well-practiced greetings that held no real warmth.  Threads of silver and gold, red, violet and all the shades in-between fill the floor as everyone’s costumes fight for dominance amongst the sea of egos.  He turns back to Amy, noting the wonder in her gaze as she takes in the palace’s opulence for the first time.  Not for the first time, he grows wistful that they’d hadn’t met before the recent few month’s activities.  He was certain that King Holt would have been very fond of her.

A blush grows across her cheeks as she catches him staring, and she glances around her before leaning in closely.  “I knew that the inside of the palace would be amazing, I mean … it’s a palace.  I guess I was just expecting …”

“Less arrogance, more elegance?”

She nods, mouth twisting into a wry grin.  The gold filigree that surrounded her mask glinted against the candlelight, but still held no competition against the sparkle in her eye.  “This place has changed a lot since Holt,” he explained, shrugging one shoulder up in defeat.

“You know, I never thought I would say this, but there is such a thing as too much.” Gina whispered as her and Rosa sidled up next to them.  

Amy nodded in agreement, throwing a well-rehearsed smile at another couple as the four of them walked through the crowd.  Her dress flowed out gracefully behind her as they progressed, and she moved with an elegance that some who had been born to privilege would never be able to match.   Even under the circumstances, Jake was endlessly proud to have her on his arm.  

The loud screech of a score of horns at the front of the Great Hall pulls Jake from his thoughts, and quickly the crowd swivel toward the sound, knowing that such uproar undoubtedly signalled the impending arrival of The King.

Pembroke’s smirk reeks of arrogance as he shuffles along the velvet carpet that led to his throne, head remaining high as he ignores those that kneel before him.  He winks at a few of the women that were now chained to their positions, passive to their smiles turning into sneers as he passes.  The room remains quiet as he ascends, and he turns to face the crowd from the top, scouring the room disinterestedly before dropping into his ‘rightful’ place.    

He raises one hand high, gesturing for the music to begin.  Like scenes from a well-rehearsed play, each of the guests turn and reach for their partners, falling into line on the dance floor as the drawn-out notes of the vielle begin to ring out.  Reaching out to Gina without hesitation, Rosa pulls her into the fray, the two of them quickly becoming indistinguishable (save for the plumage surrounding Gina’s mask) amongst the crowd.

An awkward silence stretches over the remaining two, the lingering memory of “I’m falling in love with you, day by day … and I don’t want to stop” ringing in both of their ears.  Jake can feel her gaze from the corner of her mask, and instinct kicks in.

“Okay look, there’s something that I need to ask you.”  Jake begins, turning to Amy with a serious look falling over his face.

She gazes back at him, mouth falling open slightly as she visibly struggles to find the right words.  Before she can try, he raises his hand, pointing towards a tall woman dressed in white, standing out from the crowd by her oversized headpiece.  “I gotta know,” he continued – “Is that supposed to be a swan?  Because honestly, all I see is a stork.”

Amy’s shoulders drop as the tension leaves her body, drawing her hand to her mouth to conceal the giggles that threaten to escape.  It really did look like a stork, munching on the feathered ‘grass’ that surrounded the woman’s voluminous creation.  Money truly didn’t buy taste. 

 He can feel himself relax in turn as her laughter escapes, despite her best efforts at suppression.  These kind of moments, where they turned silence into laughter, were his favourite.  And only served to remind him of what they were fighting for – a greater future for Brooklyne, yes; but also, a future where they can stay together, even as friends.  

There’s a brief pause, and then the melody of the music changes, a slower tempo falling over the room.  Clearing his throat nervously, Jake offers a hand to Amy.  “Shall we?”

Her hands shake a little, he notices, and he gives her fingers a gentle squeeze as they join his.  He pulls her closer as they move towards the centre of the dance floor, giving her an encouraging smile as his free hand rests gently against her waist.  Tentatively, they begin moving to the beat, both doing their best to ignore the awkward space that was building between them.

Jake glances towards the front of the room and notices The Vulture sitting on his throne, one knee bent up with his foot against an armrest.  In his right hand he holds a chalice, and he stares at the vessel, already distracted by his reflection as the crowd move below him.  Turning back to Amy with a tiny shake of his head in the ruler’s direction, she looks over and huffs at his lack of interest.  “All of this work, and everything that had been stolen for this night, and he doesn’t even care enough to pretend that he’s enjoying it.”

He nods in agreement, squeezing her hand quickly again as they turn across the floor.  “There’s nothing in this hall that could ever surpass his interest in his own reflection.  That is Pembroke, right down to his soul.”

She laughs softly at that, blushing slightly when he smiles back at her, and for a moment they dance together in silence.

Finally, she speaks.  “Jake, there’s something that I have to tell you.”

He winces as the pointed tip of her shoe hits the edge of his toes for the fourth time.  “Is it that you’re a terrible dancer?  I mean, no offence Ames, but this is not your strongest skill.”

Her face turns a bright red and she shakes her head, gold chain shifting slightly against her chest as she lets out a huff.  “We didn’t do a lot of dancing in Fumera, and it’s all really confusing.”

Slowing down the pace, Jake throws her an apologetic smile and tightens his grip on her waist, locking his frame so their outstretched hands act as a support.  “Here.  Follow my lead.”  He takes slower, more deliberate steps, increasing the pace in small increments as confidence begins to creep onto her face.  Together, they move carefully around the floor, smiling at the other guests as they let the music was over them.  He could definitely get used to this.  

Just as friends, Peralta.   

Too long for Tumblr .... find the rest on AO3!

#mine #myfic #chapter three #we won't run #b99 summer 2019 fic exchange #monster of a chapter #but I hope you all enjoy it #b99 fanfic #peraltiago fanfiction #peraltiago au #feel free to share the love