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racefortheironthrone · 2 years ago

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Kinda of random but what do you think of Alan's Moore comments about people liking comic book movies could lead into fascism? Seems like bitter old man territory but what do you think?

I think it's fair to say that fascism has been something of an obsession of Alan Moore's and a recurring although not omnipresent theme in many of his works.

While Miracleman is technically an expy of Captain Marvel, I would argue that the series is Moore's most extended commentary on Superman instead and especially the idea of the ubermensch. In Miracleman, our protagonist is initially thought to have been made into a superhero by a benevolent enlightened scientist, but eventually we learn that Miracleman is the product of an Operation Paperclip Nazi science project called the Zarathusa Project designed to create the literal Nietzschean Ubermensch, complete with a fixation on "blond gods" and a eugenicist breeding program. A superhero fight in the midle of London causes mass civilian casualties on the scale of an atomic bomb going off. Ultimately, Miracleman effectively overthrows Thatcher's government and rules as an enlightened despot before eventually leaving Earth for space.

Likewise, I think Watchmen is Moore's most extended commentary on masked vigilantism and thus on Batman. In Watchmen, the phenomenon of vigilantism is repeatedly associated with right-wing politics: Hooded Justice is a German circus strongman who has pro-Nazi politics; Captain Metropolis wanted his superhero teams to target "black unrest," "campus subversion," and "anti-war demos;" and the Comedian is a brutal nihilist who ultimately joins the U.S security state where he cheerfully follows orders to assassinate JFK and Woodward and Bernstein, commit atrocities in Vietnam, kill protesting hippies, etc. Finally, there's Rorschach, Moore's most famous mis-interpreted creation - Rorschach is a paranoid conspiracy theorist who's an anti-communist, anti-liberal, militant and militaristic nationalist, homophobe, misogynist, and avid follower of the John Birch Society-like New Frontiersman.

And then there's V for Vendetta, which I would argue is Moore's attempt to create a masked vigilante superhero with his own anarchist politics. In this story, the vigilante isn't a crimefighter but rather a revolutionary who seeks the overthrow of a fascist state and the creation of an anarchist utopia.

Moreover, his more recent comments about comic book movies being linked to fascism are arguably just part of his much longer-running commentary that superheroes as a concept are at the very least proto-fascist.

Having read a lot of Moore's work and interviews on the subject, I don't find his critique compelling. I think his definition of fascism is far too loose, I think his lens on the superhero genre is overly narrow, and I think his mode of analysis tends to neglect the vital area of historical context.

Definitions

So let's start with Moore's definition of fascism. I think Moore tends to really over-emphasize the whole idea of the Nietzschean ubermensch and the use of force to solve problems, and more recently he's been on this weird kick of saying that nostalgia and a childlike desire for easy solutions leads to fascism. I have several problems with this definition:

the first is that, as I've talked about in the past, fascism is a very complex historical phenomenon that can't be boiled down to a single idea, and in particular the idea of the ubermensch is a pretty small part of the German case (and even then how do you balance it against Nazism's more anti-individualistic aspects, like the mass party and the mass party organization).

the second is that the idea of a larger-than-life individual using physical prowess to solve problems is not unique to fascism. After all, during the 30s, you also had the Soviet Union promoting the heroic ideal of Stakhanovitism and the depiction of the heroic male factory worker in socialist realism. More importantly, the idea of a "larger-than-life individual using physical prowess to solve problems" is basically the same description for any number of literary figures from pulp cowboys to the Greek heroes of the Iliad and the Oddessy to the epic of Gilgamesh.

the third is that I think Moore's definition overlooks the actual drivers of the rise of contemporary fascism. Anti-semitism, racism, homophobia and transphobia, misogyny - all of these are real social and cultural forces that are actually motivating people to join the ranks of the alt-right, to commit massacres, to riot at the Capitol, and so forth. It is incredibly self-involved to think that superheroes and superhero movies are worth discussing in the same breath. At the end of the day, they're harmless entertainment compared to the real political issues that need to be tackled.

Moore's Model of Superheroes

Here's where I'm going to say something that's going to be a bit controversial - I don't think Alan Moore has read widely enough in the superhero genre to make an accurate assessment of its relationship to fascism. If we look at his comics work, and we look at his writings, and we look at his interviews, Moore's mental model of the superhero really only includes two figures, Superman as the representative of the superpowered ubermensch and Batman as the representative of the masked vigilante crimefighter. Notably, Moore hasn't really touched the last of the Big Three - Wonder Woman, a superhero with a strong legacy of radical left-wing politics. I do think we have to mention, given Moore's somewhat troubled history when it comes to issues of gender, that Moore's model of the superhero doesn't include any female superheroes (or for that matter, any superheroes of color or queer superheroes). (EDIT: I should clarify - Promethea is Moore's version of Wonder Woman, but she doesn't really come up in his discussions of fascism, and her thematic profile has more to do with Moore's interests in magic.)

And other than Captain Britain, Moore never worked with any Marvel character and basically ignores them.

To me, this is like having a career as a painter and never working with colors. Moore's model of the superhero leaves out the Fantastic Four and how their flawed psychologies revolutionized the industry and the whole idea of the superhero-as-explorer, it leaves out Spider-Man and the idea of the superhero-as-everyman whose central struggle is about work-life balance and altruism, and most importantly it leaves out the X-Men and the idea of the mutant metaphor.

If as a critic you're going to make grand pronouncements about something as morally evil as fascism, I think it really is incumbent on you to have read and analyzed widely rather than cherry-picking a couple of case studies. Especially if you have something of a tendency to mis-characterize those case studies by ignoring historical context.

Historical Context

So let's talk about Superman and Batman and their emergence in the 1930s. One vital bit of context is that the U.S experienced a significant crime wave in the 1920s and 1930s as Prohibition encouraged the rise of organized crime and then the Great Depression spurred the rise of kidnapping and bank robbery gangs. Moreover, municipal police forces tended to be wildly corrupt, accepting bribes from organized crime to let them operate with impunity, while not letting up in the slightest in their brutal oppression of workers and minorities.

In this context, I think the idea of vigilantism - while it has an undeniably racist legacy dating back to Reconstruction - is not purely a conservative phenomena. It's also an expression of a desire for help from somebody, anybody when the powers that be are of no help. And at the end of the day, unsanctioned use of force can equally be traced back to left-wing self-defense efforts from the Panthers back to the Communist Party's streetfighting corps to unions packing two-by-fours on the picket line - so I don't think we can simply equate punching a bad guy with racist lynch mobs and call it a day.

So let's talk about Superman and the ubermensch. I think Moore has a bad tendency to focus on his nightmare scenrio of a godlike being tyrannizing and destroying hapless humanity, while minimizing the actual ideas of Siegel and Shuster. He tends to take their use of the Nietzschean as a straighforward invocation instead of the clear subversion it was intended to be - rather than a blond god who imposed tyrannical rule with horrific violence, Siegel and Schuster made their Superman a dark-haired Moses allegory, who rather than solely fighting crime acted to stop wife-beaters, war profiteers, and save the life of death row inmates, and whose secret identity was of a crusading journalist who uncovered corrupt politicians.

To be fair, Alan Moore admits that Superman started out as "very much a New Deal American” - but because this kind of does near-fatal damage to his argument, he quickly minimizes that by saying that Superman got co-opted and thus it doesn't count. This is some No True Scotsman bullshit - Moore knows that his example just imploded so he tries to wriggle out of it by arguing that Superman sold out to the Man. If we go back to the actual historical evidence, we can see that at the outset of the Red Scare, the Superman radio show went on a crusade against the Klan, and throughout the conservative 1950s, Superman was used to propagandize liberal values of religious and racial equality:

So much for selling out.

On the other hand, Batman is a tougher case, given that his whole deal is being a masked vigilante who wages an unending war on crime to avenge his murdered parents. So is Batman an inherently fascist figure, a wealthy sadist who spends his time brutally beating the poor and the mentally ill when he could be using his riches to tackle social issues? I would argue that this version of Batman is actually pretty recent - very much a legacy of the work of Frank Miller and then the post-9/11 writings of Christopher Nolan, Johnathan Nolan, and David Goyer - and that there have been many different Batmen with very different thematic foci.

For example, the early Batman was as much a figure of horror as he was of superheroics - he fought Frankensteins and Draculas, he killed with silver bullets, etc. Then in the 40s and 50s, you got the much more cartoony and light-hearted Batman who pretty much exclusively fought equally oddball supervillains in such a heightened world of riddles and giant pennies and mechanical T-Rexes that I don't think you can particularly describe it as "crime-fighting." Then in the 1960s, you have the titanic influence of the Batman TV show, where Adam West as Batman was officially licensed by the Gotham P.D (so much for vigilantism) and extolled the virtues of constitutional due process and the Equal Pay Act in PSAs and episodes alike. You can call the 1966 Batman a lot of things, but fascist isn't one of them.

Conclusion

I want to emphasize at the end of the day that I'm a huge Alan Moore fan; I've read most of his vast bibliography, I find him a fascinating if very odd thinker and critic, I've even tried to read his mammoth novel Jerusalem (which is not easy reading, let me tell you). At the same time, it's important not to treat creators, even the very titans of the medium, as incapable of error. And in this case, I think Alan Moore is simply wrong about fascism and superheroes and people should really stop asking him about it, because I don't think he has anything new to say about it.

#comics #comics meta #alan moore #fascism #superheroes #batman #superman

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dragoncookies · 1 year ago

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ENTP misconceptions

For awhile I honestly thought I was an ENTJ (at first even INTJ but I was goin through a ruff time when I discovered MBTI we'll just put it at that). I can get REALLY ambitious, and then ruthless/strategic with how I go about things in order to see it through. I even bullet journal, and make planners for months in advance just so I can keep track of all my ambitions. Some people would consider me Type A because of how eccentric I can be and how detailed I can get with how I spend my time.

What they don't know is that my poor use of Si causes me to do things like work on projects for four hours straight and watch the hours tick by until its 1 am and, oh no! I have somewhere to be the next morning. This happens multiple times.

I also am a professional at winging it. People would be shocked at how many of the things I do are last minute choices, or put together the night before/the moment of. I mean, I cannot count the number of times I've said (tw death) "guess I'll die" every day.

Cannot forget the fact that during quarantine I would RUTHLESSLY argue about my favorite book characters to strangers online. I wrote pages and absolute essays that would probably get high marks if I fixed them up a little. I was a menace out there.

It was only after actually researching about the cognitive functions did I realize that there was absolutely no way I could have Te. Like, at all. I learned that my constant fantasizing and well of ideas for everything in the world around me was, in fact, a high Ne user trait.

I don't get fomo from missing out at a social event, I get fomo from missing an opportunity to put my creative resources to work to entertain people.

I like to think that I stray more towards the "Jack Skellington' entp type. One might think he's an entj because of how he has this goal in mind and then goes through every little detail to see it through, but what about him getting tired of all the routines in the beginning of the movie and wanting something new (Ne)? And when he finds Christmas town, what does he do? He analyzes the heck out of it, trying to figure out how it works (clear Ti use). So, even though the stereotypes might lead one to believe Jack is an entj, in actuality, he types as an entp.

Heres some IRL examples of how I might not seem ENTP.

For preface, I am an identical twin. I type as an ENTP, meanwhile my twin types as an INFJ (it is a very interesting relationship). Our highschool offered speech and debate. Guess who started taking it first? Not me, the entp. I didn't really know much about it and thought it was just a nerd thing. Then my twin took it and had a ball (I was lowkey was super jealous). Even though my twin is the "humanitarian" feeling type, they made for a terrifying opponent and had no mercy. My twin is also often thought of as way crueler than I am most of the time, where I am described more like a sunflower and they more as a thorny rose. My twin can get so passionate they turn argumentative, and if something doesn't fit the little storyland they build their world around, they argue a lot. So, my parents always said that they should be a lawyer. My twin can get so inside their heard (high Ni) that they act narcissistic and uncaring.

It irks me how one can pay so little attention to the world around them, but you'd think I'd be the cruel narcissistic one, who people say should be a lawyer. Because I am an entp.

Personally? I like writing poetry and going to cafes. I like reading and if I see that either side of argument can be argued for within reason, I won't feel like arguing. So I don't argue as much. The whole reason I didnt take speech and debate at first was just because I thought I wouldn't enjoy arguing for things where both sides could be right (I now know I overlooked the beauty in the argument itself). The Ne/Ti/Fe/Si function stack applies to me completely, just not in the stereotypical way. Its pretty helpful. When I analyze things too much (Ti), I can recognize I am probably a little stressed. I also know that there are places in my life I should have SOME routine/structure just to be a more functional person.

So, when people say "MBTI isn't real/is pointless because people get different results all the time and how can 16 personality types fit everyone its so limiting"

Its not, really. You just have to let the idea cook inside your head and explore yourself and how you think for a little.

#entp #entj #entp personality #entj personality #infj #infj personality #entp thoughts #mbti #mbti personality types #16 personalities

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fightaers · 10 months ago

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KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER.

REPOST DO NOT REBLOG !!

NAME: bellaaaaaaaaaa. bella for short

PRONOUNS : she/her but they/them if ure unsure is also coolio

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : bad on all front, but discord slightly less so

NAME OF MUSE(s) : god, i have so many. feel free to browse <3

BEST EXPERIENCE : when i first entered the animanga rpc i had a really, really good time from the get-go ngl. for a while, right until my revival in 2024, i was sort of more into the 'western / live action' side of the rp media, and i kept remembering how much of a good time i had in the animanga rpc, which triggered my interest in returning.

my other best experience is basically when i learn from my dearest mutuals then how not to be afraid to project ur muses' voices into their narration, which allowed me to have incredible fun with exercising different mindset and speech patterns and/or different dialects since!

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS : uhhh this is pretty specific to my experience and quite particular — thus i hope to elaborate it well — but i highly dislike when writing partners tried crafting our threads into only benefiting / leveraging their own muse(s) rather than it being a collaborative effort for both our muses' character development. this happened to me only ... twice so far ? so it's quite rare considering i've been writing for ten years, but i'm suuuuper sensitive about this.

so for example right, what usually happens is me and my writing partner would talk about our muses and we see common ground and where we could expand on a point of conflict. both our muses then benefit from this point of thread because the narrative we've written ought to challenge their perspective, and this can be driven with angst, drama, whatever genre this can be explored in etc.

now what i'm pointing out specifically is when the writing partner would only try to have their own muse's emotions and challenges on the forefront of the plot, with no consideration to mine, which i think defeated the purpose of roleplaying in entirety because roleplaying especially is supposed to be a collaborative effort for all writers involved. but no, it's their muse's pain that's significant. it's only their suffering that outweighed everyone else's, and my character typically is became an "affirmation" or a "booster" to their muses' experience.

i have a few turn-off's but this one is definitely one of the highest.

MUSE PREFERENCES: oh maaaan, i've written characters from sooo many ranges. typically it's whoever tickled my brain at the moment <333 but lately i do realise i'm often drawn to

(1) outwardly soft-looking people (2) have crazy dedication value; sometimes absurdly loyal to a cause / person (3) most of the time they're brown-haired and/or dark-haired (4) a lot of them give earthy and/or green vibe

and if it's the opposite, it's either someone struggling with their temper and/or have their viewpoint challenged or exploited. don't believe me, check out my western multi as well to see where i'm ticking the boxes. ( i'm on hiatus there but still. look at the muses. )

PLOTS OR MEMES : fuuuuuuck. i'm super bad with first-time plotting not gonna lieeeee. listen, my attention span's crap. my method is usually this: we plot minimally ( usually to establish the timeline and/or where our muses stand ) and then i prefer winging the first thread, usually to gauge the pace of the writing, ur muses' thoughts and/or reactions so mine could bounce off of yours, and then i'd rain in your IM / discord to yap my way into ur heart 🫶 i looove when my mutuals would yap at me right back. i love substances, and i love context. i love knowing what my partners want to achieve or what they're satisfied / dissatisfied with so we can work around that. so yes, thread > plot > memes.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : wish i'm a short-replier. born a long-replier. working on making my paragraphs more concise though. that's on my 2024 writing bingo for sure!

BEST TIME TO WRITE : when i want to 💀 and i have no idea when. usually when i'm rested enough so if i'm dead tired on friday, there's a chance i'll still be ghosting the dash on saturday. i try not to........ push myself so hard on my availability, which is why it's important i stress out how i am a low-activitiy blog, because i know that even if i push myself when i don't want to, it won't work. my brain would dead-ass refuse to cooperate.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S) : i'm definitely flawed, which is something i like exploring with my muses, because i think i've tried so hard since i was 15 to be perfect. that isn't to say my characters and i share the same flaw, but unlike in real life, exploring my characters' area of weaknesses and how that can have its consequences is perhaps a catharsis for me since i could safely navigate it within a narrative i could ( somewhat ) control. it's freeing. writing has always been freeing in that sense.

tagged: @dynmghts and @ingen1um ( u sexy people muaah <3 ) tagging: @fighterbound , @bladedhunter , @kiigan , @senjufound and whoever that wants to it !!!!!

#my pet peeve are that specific and idk why #and thats just ONE #who hurt me #gen: dash games.

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squishmallow36 · 2 years ago

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It's all I wish to hear tonight, and you're all I wish to be, and this is how we all fall down - Chapter Three

Summary: Garvarioli but it's Alvar's character arc in Flashback and Legacy. Also please send help I accidentally made a character arc out of disconnected oneshots.

Word Count: 3040

TW: swearing, Alvar's troll goop illness, death

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @faggot-friday @kamikothe1and0lny @nyxpixels @florida-preposterously @poppinspop @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @remember-me-in-another-time @rusted-phone-calls @when-wax-wings-melt @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125 @hi-imgrapes @callum-hunt-is-bisexual @xanadaus @callas-pancake-tree @hi-my-name-is-awesome @katniss-elizabeth-chase @arson-anarchy-death @dizzeners @thefoxysnake @olivedumdum

And bonus Garvar tags: @tw-5 @camelspit

On Ao3 (users only because, you know, AI) or below the cut

Previous chapter :) in case you missed it

Garwin stares up at his ceiling, watching the fan slowly rotate around. Yes, he gets blinded by the light being on at the center, but that’s preferable to reloading his Imparter screen every two seconds for an update from Alvar.

No less than three hours ago, he got summoned by Fintan, and the last time he was gone this long, he brought back a kid. That better not happen again.

Garwin doesn’t have the patience to deal with a child. Or Ruy. It’s basically the same thing, but at least Ruy can scavenge for his own meals most of the time.

He may have developed an unhealthy habit of going to the Forbidden Cities and flexing his extensive Spanish vocabulary at least three times a week, but, hey, at least he brings food home most of the time, so Garwin can’t complain.

How he’s able to get food with an addler on is also questionable. As is how he acquired human money to pay for it, cause it sure as hell ain’t coming from Garwin’s extremely broke bank accounts.

With that thought, the sound of a correct Duolingo answer echoes through the silent room. However annoying it may be, it keeps Ruy entertained, so, once again, Garwin can’t complain.

But sometimes he does anyway.

“Have you lost your headphones again?”

“No. I know right where they are. I just can’t move to get them with someone laying on top of me.”

That is a valid point, which is why it should be ignored at all costs.

“Oh no! Whomever could that be?” Garwin asks, shifting to his side to snuggle in closer. And stare at Ruy. Both things that are very important to do.

He’s so pretty.

Garwin may very well have dozed off much to Ruy’s dismay, because the next thing he knows, the orange light of sunset is shimmering through the windows.

Ruy and Alvar are deep in conversation, speaking in low voices presumably not to disturb him.

Ruy ruffles his hair. “Good evening, mi corazón.”

Garwin yawns. “What did I miss?”

Alvar opens his mouth to explain, but Ruy beats him to it. “Your boyfriend told Finny about his batshit amnesia plan.”

“Oh, he’s my boyfriend now? Why do I always have to deal with him when he’s being an idiot?”

“Because you didn’t get accepted to Yale.” Ruy presses a kiss to Garwin’s temple.

Garwin rolls his eyes. The first time it was funny. The 8123rd time? Significantly less so. Half of those were his own self-deprecating jokes, so he does share some of the blame, but that’s less satisfying than projecting his problems onto everyone else.

Garwin looks at Alvar. “You do realize this is a really, really fucking bad idea, right?”

“Alden’s hiding something. Unless you have a better plan, I’ve had more than enough of that man’s bullshit. Whatever the ‘Vacker Legacy’ entails, I’m sure it’s going to be messy, and I think the trade off is more than worth it.”

“What if you’re fucked up irreparably? What if something goes wrong with your memories?”

“Bold of you to assume I’m not already fucked up irreparably, and, well, I fell in love with y’all the first time. I’ll do it again if I have to.”

That’s the exact kind of answer Garwin was hoping he wasn’t going to answer.

That’s the exact kind of answer that isn’t going to take any form of criticism. And once Alvar has his mind set on something, it might be possible to stop him, but Garwin hasn’t figured out how yet and it’s unlikely he ever will.

Garwin looks at Ruy. “Bitch, I don’t know.”

Ruy stres into his soul, betrayal etched into every line. “Dude. You were supposed to fix him. Fix him. Make him, I don’t know, not an idiot?”

“What do you want me to do? I can’t convince him to do shit. I can’t even convince him to give me the fucking remote.”

This is a real, actual issue Garwin has to go through every single day. He suffers so much for it. He’s the human here, and it’s not like any of the intelligent species produce their own TV shows or movies or whatever. He’s the only one with any personal experience watching human media his entire life, and yet that isn’t enough to dictate what is and is not watched.

“Well, to be fair, your taste in movies is horrendous.”

“That’s not fair. That’s not fucking fair at all. And now out of spite I am going to leave you two to your own devices.”

He could choose to worry about Alvar, but worrying won’t accomplish anything. So might as well go along with his dumb shit because then at least you can have an idea of what he’s doing.

Then when he realizes he’s bad at making life choices, you can tell him I told you so.

And then you’re the moral high ground.

…At least until you do something stupid. And so the cycle continues.

The first week without him, it’s just like he’s on a normal Neverseen mission. Well, at least normal in comparison to other things they’ve done.

Gisela took over again, Sophie and co. fucked up Atlantis. The usual. Actually, technically, Ruy undid the force fields and Sophie found a hydrokinetic friend to just like. Hold the water in place. Because that makes logical sense. Fluid physics definitely works like that. But Garwin chooses to blame Sophie because he can.

One of the very few times Garwin wishes there was some form of news or social media in the cities is when Alvar is found by the Bullshit and promptly scheduled for a tribunal. You know, completely normal shit.

It’s ruled that he’s going to get to go back to Everglen. Which was the goal. So that is a good thing. Even if Garwin isn’t too excited about it because Fitz is probably going to slit Alvar’s throat in his sleep.

Why are the elves so pretentious that they have to name their houses? Eh, whatever. It’s probably more effort to ask than it’s worth.

At least it’ll be fun watching Mr. Golden Boy Vackerpants getting himself banished again or Exiled. Unmapped stars, that would be so fucking hilarious.

The real trouble with Alvar being gone is that it keeps going for literal fucking months on end.

Him moving in got postponed because Umber needed to practice with their shadowflux bending with actual people and, well, Sophie and Fitz were good targets. At least it can still be on schedule for the Lunar festival thing that happens during the lunar eclipse.

Ruy definitely didn’t have lasting damage from seeing that. Definitely. If elves are supposed to break when they see blood and/or gore, he should be so far gone he doesn’t know where he started, but maybe he’s just cool like that. Or the exilium training did that. Or the Neverseen has made him desensitized to things.

Or watching Sharknado every time Garwin manages to claim the remote…maybe Alvar and Ruy have a point about his choice in media to consume.

Nah. They just don’t understand the concept of so-bad-it’s-funny.

The Second One--no, seriously, that’s the subtitle--in all of its horrific magnificence comes out while Alvar is notably still absent, and while it may be sacrilege to watch it without him, the sharknado is too strong and Garwin is too weak to resist temptation.

The Celestial Festival finally comes on October seventh and eighth because nights do that sometimes so long as google is to be trusted to know what day it is.

But what happens during the Celestial Festival is nowhere near according to plan, instead being filled with fucked up troll babies.

Garwin is assigned the job of floating around in the crowd at the festival itself because he’s a useless pathetic human, so he gets the privilege of watching both of his boyfriends risk their lives in glorious technicolor.

Ruy escapes unharmed aside from a bit of splatter from Umber and a shit ton of inevitable nightmares, but Alvar is another story.

In all of the chaos, his memories are returned, so he’s left to figure all that shit on his own while avoiding mutant trolls, both the newly hatched ones and the ones named Fitz.

And it turns out, the one named Fitz is the one to watch out for. Who would have thought? This would have been a great time for an I told you so if it wasn’t so fucking terrifying.

Garwin starts praying to every single god he can think of, from human ones to the entire fucking troll pantheon and even Ogdy of the gnomes because apparently they have their own tree god thing, not just the magic four seasons tree thing.

If there’s such a being that can control the fate of the universe like that, he hopes it has a sense of humor because that’s the only way out of this.

He ignores Gisela’s screeching and leaps to Candleshade--their pre-discussed meeting place should shit go down--because shit has most certainly gone down and begins pacing. It’s not long before Ruy arrives, but it could’ve been hours for how long it felt.

Hours feel like years until the first rays of dawn begin flickering across the horizon and a troll goopy Alvar-shaped mound shambles toward them.

Garwin won’t admit it, but tears escape his eyes when he sees Alvar and tackles him in a hug that probably was a bad idea in hindsight.

A shower and a hot meal can do a lot to revitalize a person. That being said, the hot meal is Kraft mac and cheese, so it’s not exactly the most homecooked of meals, but it's better than burning a kitchen down. Even if Keefe would absolutely fucking love seeing its childhood home burned to the ground, it’s much more fun when the arson is intentional.

There’s no way to tell how bad the reaction from the Neverseen will be or if they’re even technically members anymore after everything that’s gone down. So, being the semi-responsible one of them by comparison, Ruy figures they should stock up on food, and that means human food because the gnomes are still pissed about the whole attempted genocide thing.

Which, in all fairness, does make sense.

While he’s gone, Garwin and Alvar make themselves at home by borrowing into one of the bedrooms, becoming so blanket burritoed it’s likely they’ll never be seen again.

Garwin cups his hand to Alvar’s cheek, whispering, “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

Alvar presses a soft kiss to his lips. “Thanks.”

Normally he’d be full of sarcasm, but this time it’s genuine and that scares Garwin more than he’d like to admit.

Because once the sardonic walls are gone, then actual emotions may have to be accessed, and that’s not fun.

“How are you doing? Considering everything?”

“Great.”

He’s fine. That means he’s fine.

It’s easier thought than believed though.

Alvar elaborates, “I mean I couldn’t really figure out why my brother hated my guts so much the entire time I had zero memories or why the fuck Darek was so hot because apparently I forgot gay was an option.”

Garwin laughs, remembering the near-fistfight that ensued between Ruy and Alvar over which of the councillors is most fuckable and let’s just say it became a forbidden topic. And also good motivation for taking the government down because they aren’t fucksble until that stupid no relationships rule is abolished.

Well, technically, nothing happens so long as you don’t get caught, but that’s beside the point.

And for the record, Darek’s the hot one. Ruy can suck Terik’s dick but that doesn’t change the truth.

“Lots of confusion overall. Still trying to put the pieces back together because they are nowhere near chronological order. Also feeling a lot of emotions in this Chili’s tonight and it’s been a while since I’ve had emotions so I’m still trying to deal with that.”

“Would you like me to go harass some other room in this place?”

“No!” he answers, too loud and too fast, terror shining in his eyes.

Garwin takes his hand, squeezing gently.

Alvar takes a shaky breath. “Don’t leave me alone. I don’t want--I can’t think about being in that place again. You’re a good distraction.”

“Everglen or the Troll hive?”

“Yes.” Alvar smirks. “Both of them have my murderous little brother, so is there really that much of a difference? Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of him for willing to do what needs to be done, but that anger can be aimed in a better direction.”

“I feel like it would be funny if you were like ‘I lived, bitch’ and then sent him ideas of how to be more of an anarchist.”

Alvar smiles--the first since his return. “Hey, Fitz, I know you tried to kill me but here’s a to-do list. One: realize like half your anger is just repressed queerness and you’re pissed because I have two whole boyfriends and you’ve got that probably comphet whatever the fuck is going on with Sophie. Two: fuck up that matchmaking system because damn the eugenics are strong with this one. Three: figure out how to ask out that Dex kid you were so insistent about for reasons likely related to item one. Four: profit.”

“Is the Dex kid the strawberry blond that’s for some reason friends with the Sophie?”

“Good job, you remembered one person’s name. I’m proud of you.”

He’s only at three-quarters the normal sarcasm level, which is, once again, honest-to-god terrifying.

He just needs time. Everything will be fine. He’s had a long day. He’ll be his usual asshole self in no time.

It’s just hard to not worry when he’s been gone for so incredibly fucking long.

What if something during that time has messed him up? He doesn’t seem to care that his brother literally tried to kill him, but what if he’s simply in denial? What will it be like when it becomes real?

What if Alden’s presence made him regress back into the closet? Nah. He seems just as gay as ever. That’s the only thing Garwin has any confidence in.

What about the council? They kept him in their prison for weeks on end and there’s no telling how many violations of the Geneva convention they could’ve committed, even despite the elves’ supposed inability to process violence.

Those councillors could’ve just wiped their own memories afterwards, and no one would be the wiser. Or used Goblins. And if Alvar chose to come forward about it--which seems unlikely now that he has his memories, he’d instead use it as fuel for his villain backstory--it would be his word against theirs, a surefire way to lose a legal battle.

“Hey, don’t hurt yourself. Think any harder and you might have smoke coming out your ears.”

See? Right there? He’s fine. But, once again, easier thought than believed.

He was fine after Dimitar’s torture, he’ll be fine after this. That’s what Garwin has to convince himself. Because he can’t let himself imagine what it means otherwise.

Alvar drifts off to sleep, and Garwin spends a long time studying his face, etching every last detail into his mind. His long eyelashes, his unusually unkempt hair, the stubble that’s just barely starting to make itself visible. His shamkniv scars.

He’s been through more shit than elves are supposed to be able to go through, but he’s still here.

And the cherry on top: he’s still an ass.

He is all right, at first. He’s all right for weeks. Some may argue that he’s even more insufferable than usual, but that could just be because both Ruy and Alvar became used to not having to deal with his snark every day.

Although, to be fair, they have had to tolerate each other, so it wasn’t that much of a break. It’s just funny when Alvar drops some deranged bullshit that’s a direct consequence of growing up with Alden. Like his stories of traveling in the human world. Man’s a fucking professional con artist to feed his caffeine addiction.

And then he starts to slow down, unnoticeably at first but accelerating faster than anyone would like to admit, taking more time to climb up the stars, his appetite going to shit, having a normal sleep schedule for once in his life. The occasional nap.

Garwin can see in Ruy’s eyes that he’s noticed the same things, but maybe if they don’t talk about it, it doesn’t exist.

By the time Sophie and Keefe come crashing over to look for god knows what, Alvar is barely strong enough to light leap. How he doesn’t completely fade away is anyone’s guess.

Garwin wishes he could just duct tape all of Alvar’s particles-cells-molecules-quarks together, but apparently that’s not how that works. Also duct tape probably wouldn’t be a safe choice for keeping an organic lifeform’s parts together, but that’s less of a concern.

And they’ve all simply agreed to not talk about it via the lack of talking about it because they’re all firmly in the first stage of grief and not going anywhere anytime soon.

To someone who hasn’t gone through losing a whole ton of people in his life, Garwin can’t help but draw parallels to when his grandfather passed away about a year before he came to the lost cities.

Three weeks in the hospital.

The day-to-day details are fuzzy, even having hope most of the time, unlike with Alvar. But Garwin never went to see his grandfather. His parents wanted to protect him or something. But that’s a luxury he can’t afford this time, watching Alvar slowly decay like a zombie in front of his eyes.

There has to be a cure or a treatment or something we can do. This is elvin medicine for fuck’s sake! They always advertize how advanced they are compared to humans, but they can’t fucking fix this so what’s the point?

I’d give anything for him to be alright. I don’t care what it takes.

I got a lot of people I can blame.

And Sophie, you better believe you aren’t going to fucking take anything else from me.

#kotlc #kotlc fanfic #kotlc alvar #alvar vacker #kotlc ruy #ruy ignis #kotlc garwin #garwin chang #garvar #garvarioli #tw swearing

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bitchy-peachy · 2 months ago

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I turned my anon again off cos of the Palestine shit asks (I'm so done with the spam. Fake ass sob stories that I don't give a shit about or believe in 🤣)

The bitch anon knows they're gonna get doxxed to absolute shit if they keep on. I've got quite a couple of suspicious locations this bitchass could be coming from. From Michigan, Colorado, California and Alabama.

Also VPN ain't helping them in shit. I might be an old hag but I have very talented men that have gotten me info.

There's also the possibility of them being blocked by me. And that would make them an active blog due to a lot of accounts I've blocked deleting after the elections like bots are known to do once they serve their purpose.

Anon can't even see my reblogs, huh? Yes, definitely in my block list. I will go through it, look up writing patterns, get a connection to locate anon's place and then anon will finally shut the fuck up.

Maga will be on its last legs before inauguration btw. Tempers are already high cos people who voted for Trump know they're fucked.

Anon is going to go through some things. Weak people always die first as meat shields for us stronger ones and anon is so weak and exposed and the people on their side are turning their backs of his (assuming anon is a "he" with all that asshurt misogynistic incel talk) favorite dick flavor Trump.

BTW, Mexico is wonderful. I've spent summers there with friends sharing in culture since as a Latina myself my culture has some similarity with Mexicans. Its also easy to be respectful to their culture too unlike the shitty rude "expats" going over there and gentrifying the place and demanding people speak English (I worked with tourism in San Juan for a year and the most entitled shits where white Americans past 40 years of age)

Sorry to say it but America is pretty much a shithole country at this point. Only thing keeping me is my properties and family, but Mexico and Mexicans are great. They helped me out a lot when I was in the states too. Americans can learn a lot from them instead of pushing a bunch of fake stats on them to cause hatred and get republicunt votes.

Never had a problem with them but yes with racist bitchass American whites that suck on right-wing dick like this pathetic uncultured swine of anon that probably has never left the state he was born in, or much less leave the whole of the continental US.

Emily, I recommend blocking the anon. They're using you as therapy to bounce their own projection on cos they know they're fucked. I see them getting fucked by early next year.

It'll be so funny.

Hey sugar tits, you and that Peachy cunt should go live in that shit hole country Mexico, you'd fit right in with the rest of those woke losers. America is hitting its golden age with President Trump reentering office. Afterwards America will hit a milestone with 8 years of JD Vance followed by 8 years of Vivek Ramaswamy and potentially 8 years of Tulsi Gabbard followed by 8 years of Trump's children each and even his Grandchildren. America is in pretty good hands! AMERICA FIRST!

Haha you sure do hate @bitchy-peachy but why don't you send this good shit to her?

You MAGAts are a bunch of pussies like your cult leader Trump who's gotten his ass handed to him by President Sheinbaum FOUR TIMES in the last two weeks.

You know, if America goes down the path of letting Peter Thiel's bitch boy, a self hating Indian, a Russian Agent and Trump's fucked up Children taking the helms; America WILL become the shit hole nation your cult leader talks about.

Mexico IS A HELLUVA lot better to live in despite what you racist twits think. It has WAY BETTER HEALTHCARE ESPECIALLY for women who don't have to be in the "right state" to receive healthcare or risk bleeding out in a parking lot because a bunch of religious losers want to enforce their bullshit on people. Not to mention way better education since Mexico actually wants SMART PEOPLE in society and not morons who vote for a 78 year old adjudicate rapist and doesn't have some crackpot anti vaxxer like RFK Jr in charge of health.

BUT I have a feeling 2025 will be the DOWNFALL of MAGA 😉

#long post #us politics #politics #this shitty anon has been flipping out for... idk how many months but its obvious someone i have blocked cos they dont mention my reblogs #they can't see them 😂

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lumiiki-sonic · 2 years ago

Photo

I really wanted a Sonic Frontiers koco plush, so I tried to crochet one for myself :D

#sonic frontiers #koco #crochet #sonic #sth #amigurumi #sonic the hedgehog #sonic koco #sonic fanart #sonic frontiers koco #lumiiki #kawaii-muffins #ok this turned out well considering it's only my 3rd proper crochet project #and also first project where i pretty much had to wing it cause there is no actual koco pattern #also rip i have no aesthetic photo spots for taking photos

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eyesanddragons · 2 years ago

Text

I mention a lot that in media (and especially in Wings of Fire) there is the presence of a Good Victim/Bad Victim Dichotomy, where there's a type of Victim is "good and right" who processes there trauma in a sanitized nice way and another type of Victim who is "bad and evil" for processing there trauma in a wrong ugly way.

I hate this, it's too simplistic and an ultimately harmful way of looking at trauma that puts traumatized people into "moral" categorizations based on how "pretty" they process it. But WoF follows this a lot. I'm mentioning this because a good portion of Arc 2 doesn't actually conform to this Dichotomy, it has it's faults and falls into the same trappings the previous and next Arcs fall into, to an even more egregious extent actually considering how Darkstalker is treated. But if we put that aside for a moment Arc 2 has a really good story about trauma, and this is why I care so much about Winter Turning.

Winter Turning is one of my favorite stories about trauma, ever, It's why this series sticks with me even though I don't like it that much anymore.

And I'd like to unpack why.

So first of all. Winter lives in a incredibly hostile society where any sort of deviation or weakness is punished, except the society is almost incomprehensible, it's not something Winter understands no matter how hard he tries. He can't wrap his head around the system no matter how hard he tries, he emulates the people around him and yet he's always doing something wrong. Except he can't figure out what he's doing wrong, there's something he's doing differently. There's something different about Him.

Page 25, Winter Turning:

He could see their faces so clearly - that look they got whenever he did something wrong. The look that said, if only we’d lost you instead of Hailstorm. If only you met any of our expectations, If only you were everything an Icewing should be.

So he's pushed into isolation, guilt and self-hatred but also rage, rage at himself and rage at others. His anger is one of his most defining characteristics. It's lived with him forever, it's his way of coping with a world he can't (and shouldn't in his mind) fight back against.

And a very common thing in these types of stories is that the traumatized individuals that are full of rage and anger are evil and wrong for feeling like that. It's part of the Dichotomy, it is wrong to be angry. Now this is a simplistic way of looking at it, anger itself isn't bad it is the actions taken and again the moral categorizations of traumatized individuals based on how pretty and sanitized they process trauma isn't...great. Treating other traumatized people as evil for feeling emotions that can't easily be sanitized is bad.

Winter's actions are, bad, sometimes downright awful. But his anger at his parents and his society is never portrayed as evil in Winter Turning.

In an interesting subversion of this, what really causes Winter harm is his selflessness. His willingness to forgive and his unbreakable loyalty. Winter has given his loyalty to the wrong people, to the people that hurt him, to the people that hurt his friends. He's unwilling to break free from them. And that's ultimately what causes him and others the most harm.

Winter is unable to care for himself, missing that his suffering doesn't automatically equate to other people's happiness. And he project this unto people.

I've mentioned this in other posts but when Turtle first reveals his animus magic in Escaping Peril Winter's reaction (one of anger because Turtle didn't help his queen) doesn't seem to make sense at first. Why would Winter be angry that Turtle for not using his animus magic, post-Winter Turning Winter starkly believes that using animus dragons for mass destruction is bad and horrifying.

Page 237-238

If they still had animus dragons they could have won the War of Sandwing Succession in no time at all, and then all the territory Blaze had promised Queen Glacier would now be theirs. More important, no Icewing soldiers would have had to die...and Hailstorm would never have ended up as Scarlet's poisoner

(...) When he thought of the Icewing lives lost in the war, and for nothing in the end, he wished he could climb back through time, find an animus Icewing- maybe the one who wasted her gift on defense- and force her to make something that would wipe out all the Nightwings at once.

Uneasiness whispered through his bones at that thought...a thought he had hundred of times before. But now he could picture the Nightwings in their ramshackle rainforest village, trying to rebuild after the horrors of the volcano. He could remember the shivering dragonet in the wingery and the protective parents he'd scene, including Moon's mother.

It was actually completely terrifying to think that any dragon with magic could easily wipe out an entire tribe with just one enchanted object.

And yet he gets angry anyway. And the answer can be found here as well.

"More important, no Icewing soldiers would have had to die."

To phrase my point simply, if Winter was doing the trolley problem he'd kill the one guy to save the four others, but if a person he cared about was the one guy he'd switch tracks, albeit with a lot of hesitation, and if there was an option to let himself die to save all of them he'd take that with no hesistation.

What happens is that when Winter hears Turtle not wanting to become a living weapon, he hears "I don't want to sacrifice myself for the good of others" which makes Winter furious. Because to him Turtle is basically saying he'd let people die if it means he'll be okay.

Now this is unfair to Turtle and Winter is Not In The Right Here but it illustrates my point.

Winter's problem isn't his rage, it's him equating sacrifice with what is right while completely ignoring the wider context. Winter's rage is the way he express this worldview but it's not the problem.

Which leads to a differed question, why does Winter need to sacrifice himself? Why does he need to do this?

The answer: Guilt.

He feels guilty, he's weighing everyone down, in his mind he's so inherently awful that he's always Guilty. He needs to be sacrificed, pawned off, used, so that his debt can be repaid. He has to have something bad happening to him because to him he doesn't deserve good things.

It's this that makes me love Winter, these are the traits that would be portrayed as heroic, if not heroically tragic, the hero who sacrifices there happiness for others to live on in peace.

And that concept is being portrayed as Unhealthy, that no, you shouldn't have to live like a saint to be a good person, that Winter is Wrong.

What Winter needs...is selfishness.

And that's why it's so compelling as a trauma narrative. Winter (and Winter Turning) Is about this.

And better yet you can't sanitize this, Winter's story, Winter's Character, won't let you do that. You can't sanitize Winter's story because by it's nature you'll most likely only like Winter (and as such write/draw him) if you...engage with his story.

It's also why fandom caricatures of Winter always paint him as an even bigger jerk than he actually is but that's a whole other issue and I'm not unpacking fandom flanderization in this post.

Even if the rest of the books don't deliver on this, I always think about it. And that's why Winter Turning is so special to me, it's just this incredible look into one of my favorite stories about trauma ever.

Also Winter's feelings and experiences are incredibly relatable as an autistic person, this post is already really long so I won't get into it in detail but the feelings are There.

#I did not proofread this so enjoy!#wof #wof winter #wof meta #winter turning

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writer-akihiko · 3 years ago

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so mc running away i love it the angst 👌 so if its alright can you the same but with the dorm leaders?(pls do a good ending my poor heart cannot take it-༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)

Dorm Leaders + MC Running Away

So I apologise for the lack of happy endings, if you want to call it that. The scenarios turned out much more different than the First Years probably because of the power gap I had in mind. Also, for anyone wondering, the Vice Dorm Leaders will have a shot of saving you next! When I get to it... Cut for length. Also please help to share because I limited the tags!

Warnings: Character Death [Not you or the main boy], mentions of abuse and emotional manipulation [On the Reader] and violent actions [The Dorm Leaders]

"I'm not going back."

"Wh... What?" He was astonished. "YN... I've looked far and wide for you- please-"

No words left his mouth as you stepped away from him, tears in your eyes and you were going to make a run for it again.

Malleus Draconia

Your words struck a chord in him. He didn't mean it, but when you said that you weren't going back, he almost lost control. What did you mean you weren't going back? You promised him to be his Queen!

No... he's not accepting this. His Queen deserved better. His larger hands encircled your wrists, stopping you in your tracks. No matter how much you tugged and pushed, Malleus' strength was beyond you. In your sole despair, you fell in his embrace.

Every ache and injury struck your core, as you cried your heart out. "I can't go back Malleus," you whimpered. "I... I'm sorry."

Your hands gripped tighter onto his clothes. "I don't mean to fight against you, I-"

The Fae Prince sealed your bruised lips with his own, pulling your smaller form into his lap as he took in the moment of the bittersweet, longing kiss. "YN... listen to me," He said, his own ice cold tears falling onto your cheek, healing your wounds. "You never have to apologise for your suffering. Not even to me."

Malleus held you close as you drowsed off. The gentle smile hardened into a growl, as his back arched, black wings bursting out of his body. Malleus, in his dragon form, summoned the thorns to protect you, holding you as if you were his personal dragon hoard…

The principal, or more accurately the culprit, Dire Crowley was a fool to step out. It disgusted Malleus to his very core, his claws setting the very ground on fire as Crowley stepped closer. No words were exchanged between them. For all the suffering you faced, it was to be paid in tenfold as the dragon took a deep breath, releasing the fire in his chest.

"It was a fraction of her suffering…"

Riddle Rosehearts

He was ballistic. Riddle had been eager to bring you back immediately, but the sheer refusal and attempt to run away made him think that you hate him. He was blaming himself, sobbing to the ground.

Riddle's breakdown made you stop. No matter what you did, you still love him. Riddle's hiccups of sobbing paused at the feeling of your arms wrap around him. He wanted this, he wanted your warmth, he wanted- no… he needed you so badly he'd ceased to function without you.

"I don't hate you Riddle," You said, kissing his tears away. Your pretty Queen of Hearts had ruined the uniform he so proudly kept up with and Riddle himself was unkempt. Riddle cradled your sore body, letting you tell him your stresses and your breaking point abused over and over again by Crowley.

Riddle's heart softened ever so much for you, as he realised that he was to a fault as well. It was then he started to cry for you. "YN… I… I lost control. I know I can't be forgiven for the stress you went through so-"

"Rosehearts! You found her, how wonderful!" The jovial Principal cried out. In his hand was a magic tracking spell and that's when Riddle was struck with guilt once more. He doomed you, again. He… no, he refuses to end it this way.

Your loving self became meek, frightened by the aspect of being under Crowley's care once more. You trembled, reaching out to the hem of Riddle's coat. "Riddle… Please don't let them take me…"

He pulled you up, whispering to you. "When I cast my magic, run YN."

"Ridd-"

"Never thought you'd defy me, Rosehearts. Being a law abider and all~"

"Off With Your Head."

Kalim Al-Asim

"Y-YN?"

Kalim desperately hung onto your ankle, on his knees, begging and bargaining you to stay.

"YN… Please don't leave me again," He begged. "I'll… I'll stop dragging you to parties! I'll get you anything you want just please… please come back to me."

His tears wet your foot, as his grip left light marks on your ankle. Kalim never meant to harm you. He was so desperate to make you stay, but in his heart, he knew that he didn't have the strength to keep you with him if you desired to leave.

"How could you think that?!" You cried out. You stooped to Kalim's level, tackling him in hug so hard that he crashes to the ground. "I… I'd never leave you if I had the choice! I couldn't stand NRC anymore…"

You sobbed into Kalim's chest, wondering when it'd all end. You could never refuse Kalim, but what about everyone else? What about Crowley? Your spine shivered at the monster's name, wanting everything to disappear except for you and Kalim.

Kalim didn't know what to do. He didn't understand why Crowley would do such a thing to you. If Crowley was causing you such pain… He'd just have to get rid of the problem. You only deserve the best, after all. It's not his fault, nor is it yours.

You had cried yourself to utter exhaustion. Kalim gently wrapped you up in his jacket, cradling you to his chest. As if clockwork, Crowley appeared to the heartwarming scene, simply glad that you were going to be returned.

"Al-Asim, Dire should patch her up nicely-"

"No."

Crowley coughed. "What was that?"

"I said no," Kalim reiterated. "I have no reason to listen to you…"

"Since YN and I aren't your students anymore."

Azul Ashengrotto

How grateful he was to find you near the water. He almost turned red at the thought of you willing to search for him. Azul never thought you'd long for him this way, but you knew him, and you knew him well.

As if on cue, you looked beyond the trees to see your beloved, running from the sandy shores barefoot to be caught by your precious Azul. Azul doesn't have the best reflexes, trying to catch you without hurting you.

Azul took one good look at you, and the sight was enough to make him cry. Messy hair, cuts and bruises littering your skin possibly from running through the rocky forest, feet with sores from rocks… and tearful, sorrowful eyes.

Not an inch of sadness deserved to touch you. That was one of his core beliefs. He didn't say anything to prompt you to tell about what you'd been suffering. He knew. He knew every line of the story, and it made him ever so guilty that it led to this. If he just paid more attention to you, or at least try to.

Azul offered you everything. An ear to listen and his body for comfort, with his arms wrapping about you. If the simple action was enough for your forgiveness, he'd do it over and over again.

It was for a moment Azul held you, before running the water with you in tow. From the forest emerged the tweels, but what was behind you made you scream. Crowley, with his magic, retaliating against the twins' magic.

Azul wrapped you around his tentacles, drifting further into the ocean with you. He bent down to whisper in your ear. "YN, close your eyes. Don't look."

You shut your eyes tight as you did, hiding yourself in Azul's chest, away from the scene.

"May we never see you again, Crowley."

Azul and the twins in their merforms plummet into the ocean, deep down where Crowley would never come to touch you.

Idia Shroud

He wasn't surprised that the huge robot scared you. It was his secret project after all. He immediately let himself out of the robot, but he was hesitant to step into the forest. Idia was scared, but he still had to protect you!

"Y-YN..."

"Idia!..."

You stopped running, seeing your boyfriend pop out of the robot. Idia was quick to get over his reluctance as his panic shifts to your injuries instead. He wanted to cry out of joy from the mere chance of finding you.

Idia tried to treat your wounds as best as he could with the emergency kit conveniently equipped [he really did think of everything] although his wrapping technique was unkempt at best.

Idia's attempts to heal you made you forget of all the suffering. You couldn't help but laugh, realising how much you missed Idia. He knew that you needed this time. Oh, how he wanted to whisk you away...

But he might as well. You're his, right?

Crowley didn't get close to reaching you. Idia thought of it all. He tracked every move the principal made, fooling Crowley to think that Idia was with you the entire time, with the tracking device that Crowley so faithfully gave him.

"How desperate... it's honestly funny..." Idia scoffed at the idea of Crowley getting to you.

With the S.T.Y.X androids, Idia confronted Crowley, who was in sheer confusion.

"Crowley… burn in hell."

Leona Kingscholar

Leona didn't hold back. He couldn't believe you would say such a thign to him… The only conclusion he reached to was that you hated him. You hated his very core, just like everyone else… He was scared. It frightened him to the core that after everything he did, you still hated him.

"YN… stop fucking around with me," He said, grabbing onto your wrist. He wasn't about to throw a tantrum then and there. He had to get things straight. "Hey… tell me. Was I just a waste for you?"

"W-What are you talking about Leona?" You pushed against his chest, trying to get some distance but Leona was way stronger than you. The lion couldn't listen to reason. He simply went on about how you must've hated him, and how much you despised him.

"Did I mean nothing to you, YN?" Leona was shaking, his shoulders trembling from the mere thought of hearing those words.

You wrapped your arms around Leona, pulling him in close. "I never did… How dare you think that you stupid lion?!" You said, sobbing your heart out. You were equally hurt, but you never once thought Leona would think such a thing.

The emotional reunion was interrupted by the principal himself, pretending to be moved by such a scene. The false pretense of safety caught on to you, and you were sent into a panic, clinging onto Leona for fear of your life.

"I hate you!" You yelled, your body crumpling to the ground just as Leona caught you. "I hate you, I hate you. I don't want to go back, don't make me!"

If you were to scream anymore, you might collapse from exhaustion. Leona was quick to carry you in his arms, holding you close to his chest, where you were comforted by his heartbeat.

"Hoi, good for nothing principal," Leona called out, a single claw drawn out, igniting his Unique Magic.

"Move before I turn you to sand."

Vil Schoenheit

He was stunned to see you in such a state. He called out for you, and you stopped in your tracks. Was he that incompetent that he can't keep you with him? Did he not treat you right? Was his mere presence just torture for you?

Vil couldn't keep it in anymore. He needed to know. "YN… why won't you come back? Tell me, is it my fault? Am I not worthy of you?!"

The once prideful queen fell into shambles of insecurity as his mind won't stop painting images of you walking away from him, of you calling him your doom, of him being your captor… No, he didn't mean it…

"Was I the villain in your story?! WAS I?!"

Vil had never cried as much as he did. He needed to know that you didn't of him as a nuisance. He really was worthless if he made you feel unwanted… so please, he needed an answer.

"How could you think that, my love?"

You stooped to Vil's level, brushing away the tears that ruined his makeup with your very hands. Oh, your poor Vil… You were too selfish, thinking of your own suffering. With Vil in your arms, you felt whole once again. You gave Vil your actual answer, relenting every moment of your stress that stemmed from Crowley.

Oh… how his sweet potato must've suffered. Vil had a stuck of guilt, considering that he was under an Overblot as well. No matter, he had to make things right. For your sake, for his love's sake.

"YN, Crowley is trying to find you. But I… I have to set things right," He said, pulling you up.

The rustle of leaves had you on guard as from it came Dire Crowley, revelling in the scene.

"Schoenheit. You are supposed to bring LN YN to me immediately as I ordered."

Vil for once scared you. It scared you how enraged he was, and your heart wrenched at seeing the ink droplets by his hand.

"Vil, don't you dare-"

He turned back to you, whispering for you to run to Rook's safety. "Don't cry, my love."

You tried to hold the tears once again as you saw Vil shifting forms to an ink-like mess, this time his rage directed at Crowley. You could only run away, praying in your heart that Vil was safe.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst scenarios #twst angst #twst dorm leaders #twst azul #twst idia #twst kalim #twst malleus #twst leona #twst vil #twst riddle #azul ashengrotto #idia shroud #kalim al asim #malleus draconia #leona kingscholar #vil schoenheit #riddle rosehearts

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thewriterowl · 2 years ago

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I saw a few fanfic where is Vader got Luke early or captures him, he dresses him in clothes that covers all the skin because no one should watch his child, I thought about how his also puts a dark veil on him to cover his face from peasants, they don't deserve to see him, and a spikey and beautiful crown on top, but one day Din somehow sees him, Luke is just in his garden and takes of his veil, Din was on a mission to kill the prince, really not a bounty, just revenge for his people, but then he sees Luke's face and, there is no way this is Vader son, he looks to pure, infatuated Din or Dark Din, he decides to take him as his spouse, but how to get close enough without Vader noticing or going after him.

He goes to visit Luke in the gardens in secret to try a woo Luke little by little (he still a polite gentleman after all), Luke is very happy that someone took an interest in him even though he is the child of a maniac, Luke gives him tips on how to have advantage of the Palace and probably Vader, Din realizes that he can't get Luke unless he is powerful, if he only had the darksaber, Luke tells him about Gideon having something like that, Din takes it, he reclaims mandalore and takes Luke away from Vader.

Vader is pissed, his son is away from him and doesn't know if he is safe, one day he sees his son with someone, the Mand'alor, and he is wearing clothes that reveal to much skin, but he can't do anything, he son looks so happy, he doesn't remember when was the last time he son smiled, so he leaves him, for now...

Oh no, I honestly love this so much....ugh I already have so many projects to dooooo....

Luke captured at Bespin and finds out that Vader has already killed the Emperor and is now the new leader of the Galactic Empire. He is forced to dress as a beloved prince, hidden in towers, shackled up with pretty Force cuffs, and infantilized constantly (cause I love me some of that). He is feeling exhausted but is doing his best to get information to the rebellion...he isn't able to do much, but he can do some. But he is caught and loses more and more of his freedom.

He remains in his very protect tower that the cannot get out from. He has a beautiful large wing that has everything he could need, including a very protected garden that he spends many hours in. But he is growing restless and afraid about ever escaping his overbearing and possessive father.

Din, maybe raised by Death Watch, is on a mission to take revenge for what the Empire did to his people of Mandalore and Aq Vetina. He is one of the best in the tribe and is thought to be a great leader and prime example of a Mandalorian (though he isn't sure he really cares too much) He just wants to get his vengeance.

He is able to do what no one else has, infiltrate the prince's garden and wing. He sneaks in and then finds a beautiful man, sitting on the grass, looking up at the sky with a forlorn and sad expression. He is in lighter robes than he wears in public and no veil and clearly has shackles on him.

Din is infatuated and curious instantly. He watches Luke for a while first and then begins to make his approach. Luke surprised someone could come in. Din sits and talks with him almost daily and knows he is going to marry this man and have him as his own.

But killing him and leaving his body and stealing him away were two very different things. He'd needed to be prepared. He needed to be stronger.

Luke, maybe a bit unaware of the implications or hoping he will take this to the rebellion, tells him all sorts of secrets and lets him know about the dark saber. Din then decides he is going to become Mand'alor so he can have Luke for his own easier.

He takes Luke and now the infamous Mandalore system and the Empire are at odds over one blond who really just would like to get back to shooting things from his X-Wings, thanks.

#owl inbox #dinluke

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chasingpj · 4 years ago

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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐤

pairing: percy jackson x child of aphrodite! gn reader

requested?: yup!

warnings: mentions of underage drinking, one curse word, and mentions of sexual tension

category: fluff, shy boy x obviously interested girl trope

a/n: don't mind me I'm just projecting and I got carried away

you’re not sure what gravitated you to percy more

the crystal green eyes, the freckles over his nose, the disheveled dark curls, or his clumsiness

the first time you laid eyes on him, he was walking back to his cabin after sword-fighting practice

his tan skin gleamed in the sunlight as a hand came up to swipe away the damp hair sticking on his forehead

for an action so mundane, it made your stomach flutter like crazy

and then the beauty of the moment was ruined right when he trips over the steps of his cabin

you heard stories of the kid killing the minotaur, blowing up a volcano, and rumors of being the suspected child of a huge prophecy

yet, he was not immune from tripping over his feet

and you’re sure the dorky charm of that moment made you think, he’s mine

for the next few days, you were determined to approach him

but you didn’t just want to come up to him and introduce yourself; that would be too plain and forgettable

you ended up finding your opportunity during a capture the flag game

silena gave you instructions to distract percy, and you headed over strong, ready to make your first impression while also taking him down for your team

sure, he had water powers and done a bunch of cool things, but your father made sure you were well trained in sword fighting and martial arts even before you knew about the camp

you planned to take him by surprise, and luckily it worked

with ruthless attacks, it didn’t take long for you to sweep him off his feet and knock his sword out of his hand

by pressing the flat of your sword under his chin, you forced him to look up at you, and you peered into those clear green eyes

gods, he’s cute, you thought

“hey,” you said

percy was stunned, not sure if it was because you effortlessly took him down or if it was because you were one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen

“... hi,” he sputtered, gawking for a moment as you offered your hand

you swore you felt sparks when his fingers brush across your palm... even though the contact was a little sweaty

in the distance, you heard the satyrs blow the horn and the roars of celebration from your team

“i should go back to the others. catch you later, ocean eyes,” you flirted

percy’s shoulders tensed up when you blew him a kiss; awkwardly frozen in his place as you waited

“well, are you going to catch it? you can’t just let my kiss fly away.”

percy shifted on his feet, not sure if you were serious or not, but when you held your ground with arms folded over your chest, it was clear that’s what you were waiting for

and so with a flushed face, percy awkwardly grabbed the air in the front of him, and you couldn’t help but giggle

“good, i wouldn’t want it flying to a stranger,” you commented playfully. “you know, i don’t really like this whole outdoor camp life thing, but seeing your pretty face around here makes it a lot better”

“uh… oh, thanks?” he stammered, not having the words to respond

you winked at him before walking off, more than satisfied with your first impression

after that, you were contemplating your next move

children of aphrodite can see all the possibilities in a potential relationship

you were able to see you and percy eating ice cream in central park, holding hands at camp, a shy kiss on your first date

you wanted all of it, and you going to make sure you get it

of course, silena and your siblings were your wing women

if percy was in the strawberry fields, you were picking strawberries beside him

in the fields, you got to know him and his sarcastic humor, which made your crush flourish

you even took sword fighting classes at the same time as him and made sure he was your partner most of the time

whenever you had a chance, you’d affectionately fix his hair or his armor just to hear his shy thank you’s

he’s never had a girl show this much interest in him, so you definitely made him a little nervous, but despite that, he opened up to you pretty quick

sometimes he’d help you out in the stables, and you noticed how he’d fumble with the harnesses or knock things over when you would flirt with him

you loved his reactions so much that you always took it up a notch just to see how he’d react

you suppose the pegasi didn’t make percy’s shyness any better

there were times where he’d shush them, or the tips of his ears would grow even more flushed at a neigh or huff from one of the pegasuses

as the summer came to an end, you gave percy your email and made sure you stayed in touch

you didn’t live very far from one another, but you didn’t dare ask to hangout

you wanted to be asked first!

and you were disappointed when the invitation never came despite the two of you being consistent with sending emails

the year flew by fast, though, and you were excited to return to camp for an array of reasons; percy being one of those reasons, of course

when you saw him for the first time that summer, you were in awe at how different he looked after a year

he was taller, broader, and just more handsome overall

your stomach went into a frenzy when he greeted you with a boyish smile while his hand rubbed the back of his neck nervously because he didn’t fail to notice how, somehow, you were even prettier than he remembered

unfortunately, having the prepare for the war meant you guys were too busy to hang out as often as you did the previous summer

but when you did have time to see each other, it was still fun

there was an unspoken rule between you and percy that any talk about the war wasn’t allowed

it allowed you guys to just bask in the nights where you would watch the sunset while joking around and sharing funny stories

those nights were calm and still; they brought a sense of normalcy amongst the chaos and growing tensions

because of this, percy had sought out your company whenever he could get it

being with you made him feel like time slowed down

inevitably, the battle of manhattan occurred and passed, causing the summer to end with the grief of losing your siblings

while campers arranged the ceremonies to honor their siblings, percy hopped around to help

losing silena as a counselor meant it was time to pick a new one, and to your surprise, your siblings nominated you

you were silena’s right-hand person, the oldest in the group after her, and the strongest fighter, so your siblings felt it was fair that you took the role

but it didn’t feel right to you; the pressure of being a newly elected councilor while still grieving silena weighed hard on your shoulders

after the nomination, you needed time to get away and sit with your thoughts, and you were only there for a moment alone until percy had found you

his eyes studied your somber expression, and he was quick to ask what was wrong

as you poured out all your worries, percy was quiet and attentive

you cuddled up to his side for comfort, and even in your sorrow, you didn’t fail to notice the way he tensed up

finally, when you let everything out, he chimed in to soothe your worries

your expression was a little lovestruck as he said everything you needed to hear, and well, his strong arm around your shoulders definitely helped too

you were so elated that you couldn't help but press a kiss on his cheek to thank him

his flushed face was enough to lift your spirits for good that day

by the time the summer officially came to an end, you could feel that percy’s feelings for you were becoming stronger

the romantic possibilities you envisioned became more apparent, but percy hadn’t asked you out yet

and like, you guessed you could have asked him out, but that wasn't fair in your book

you were already making the first moves; it was his turn to do something about it

then you were sure your mother pitied you because finally, after a few more months of emailing, percy asked if you to go ice skating with him, and of course, you agreed

but then, you concluded that it was more like a cruel joke from your mom because percy never showed up

you waited hours for him before you trudged home in defeat

heartbroken wasn’t even enough to describe how you were feeling

being stood up with no follow up from him made you conclude that he just wasn’t interested and you just needed to move on

it wasn’t until you went to CHB for christmas break did you find out percy was missing

you were crazy worried about him and helped as much as you could to try and find him

when it was confirmed that he was still alive, you were more than relieved

from that day on, you were itching to see him again, and finally, after the giant war, you were able to speak to him

you only said a hello before you got sucked into a game of truth or dare with your friends

the game was self-explanatory; spin the bottle and the person who’s chosen is submissive to the person who spun it

you made up some lousy dares for the first few people until you spun the bottle in percy’s direction

“truth or dare?” your voice was challenging, and a little flirty

percy shifts in his place, “truth.”

“do you want to kiss me?”

“dare.”

“kiss me.”

the instigating coos of your friends made you smile, which contrasted percy’s stunned expression

“never have i ever-”

“that’s not even the game, percy!”

your friends laughed at your interaction, but you were honestly a little annoyed

he liked you; you could feel it, so what was he even waiting for?

“it’s fine. you don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to,” you say with a playful smile in an attempt to hide your disappointment

“shit, i’d kiss you,” leo joked, and you suddenly perked up at the request

a new idea came to your mind

“so kiss me,” you snapped your gaze to leo, a smirk on your face

leo gasped so hard; he choked on his own saliva

while he coughed erratically, showcasing all his shock on his face, you announced, “new rule! you can only give up a dare if someone else in the group offers to take it for you.”

your gaze fixed on leo, “so, are you going to kiss me or what?”

“uh, only if you want to,” he stammered, and you smiled, moving to lean over in his direction

suddenly, percy cut in, “i didn’t give up the dare.”

your attention shifted to him, and you didn’t fail to pick up the jealousy radiating off of him

your stomach flipped with anticipation at the success of your idea

if percy needed a push, you were going to push him

“you’ve given leo false hope then,” you joked, and playfully leo sighed.

“man, so close,” he mumbled.

you bit your lip as you leaned in percy’s direction

you felt his attraction to you; his eyes told you everything you needed to know and more

and before you knew it, your lips were against his

the kiss was short, but for a moment, the world around you was drowned out; you barely heard the coos and cheers of your friends around you

with a satisfied smirk, you pulled away, settling back in your spot as percy’s eyes averted elsewhere, too shy to look at you

you and your friends played the game until you grew bored and found something else to do

because the festivities kept pulling you in one direction to another, the only interaction you had with percy was the occasional longing glance and nothing else

as you escorted a few of your sisters who drank a little too much back to your cabin, you were sure you’d have to wait another day to talk to him

lost in your dismay, you automatically denied piper’s offer to finish the task

it wasn’t until she scoffed did you pull out of your thoughts

“are you kidding? go. i’ll get them back. you find percy.”

“oh yeah. you guys need to do something about that sexual tension. are you gonna date him or what?” another one of your sisters slurred

before you could even protest, you were shooed away by not only piper but by the rest of your siblings too

you stayed in your spot, making sure they had at least made it to the steps of the cabin before you pranced up to percy’s cabin

you figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask if he wanted to go on a walk with you

your knock is followed by a few moments of shuffling before he opened the door

and, whew, you were pleasantly surprised to be greeted by a shirtless percy

“hey." you leaned on the door frame, your eyes trailing down to admire his toned torso

“eyes up here," percy playfully demanded

you were almost hesitant to avert your eyes, but you obliged.

"i wanted to ask if you wanted to take a walk. you know, i just haven’t been sleeping well."

percy leaned against the door frame, amused at the dramatic pout on your face.

“sure, let me put on a shirt firs-”

“oh, you don’t have to. i don’t mind,” you cut him off, and his head tilts back just a little as he laughs

“i’m putting on a shirt,” he declares playfully, and you whine in fake disappointment

on your walk, he told you all the crazy things that happened while he was missing, and even though his stories were a lot more interesting than what you had to say, he was eager to hear about what you've been up to

your conversation persisted as you walked around the camp and as you arrived at the docks, another idea came to mind

suddenly, you cut yourself off mid-sentence, your gaze fixed on the water

“perce, you know, i can’t swim,” you mention, stepping on the wooden dock

“really?”

“really.”

it was quiet for a moment, and percy's expression was laced with confusion as you kicked off your shoes

you didn’t even care that you were wearing designer clothes, running straight off the dock and into the deep lake water

you heard percy yell your name right as your body completely submerges in the water

and it wasn't even more than 3 seconds before percy jumped in, one arm immediately wrapping around your waist to swim up to the surface with you

his baffled expression sent you into a fit of laughter

“what? why did you do that?!”

“cause i knew you’d come and get me.”

percy’s lips curved up into a smile, and you took the time to admire his features in the moonlight

you swore you saw his eyes flicker to your lips for a second, and the action made you hyper-aware of how close your noses were

"kiss me!" you thought in your head as you circled your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer

you could feel his admiration, the accelerated thump of his heart, the fluttering in his stomach that mimicked yours

the kiss you shared earlier was far too short for your liking, and you were already looking forward to the next opportunity to kiss him again

“i haven’t forgotten that i owe you a date.”

you smiled at his words, half-distracted at the proximity of his lips

“so it was a date all along?” you asked, and percy nods, amused

“you know, i was thinking now that there isn’t another big prophecy and the chances of me disappearing again aren’t likely, that, maybe, you and i could-”

“yes! gods, yes.” you cut him off, and percy laughs at your eagerness

you waited too long for the question that you couldn’t even let him finish asking

he isn’t able to say anything else as you pull him into a passionate kiss

it was as if the years of anticipation were being poured into the movement of your mouths

the kiss was long, growing in eagerness until the harpies had ruined your fun and the two of you had to run back to your cabins

a part of you had wished that all of this would have happened sooner

you had plenty of nights where you were stared at the ceiling with conflicted thoughts, wondering if you guys just weren't meant to be, if you somehow made up his attraction to you in your head, or if you should ask him out first and save yourself the potential regret

but when you returned to your cabin full of enthusiastic siblings asking why you were soaking wet and why your lipstick was smudged, you realized you wouldn’t have changed a single thing

masterlists taglist:@xxyrr @nct127bee @mochabreezeee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @Slytherclaw-kitten @-thatgirloverthere- @passionswift @nanskidoodle @s0urcru5h @ilikefluffygingercats @all-hailreyna @autmngirlworld @sunkissedskin1328 @Hermioneswifeee @quteez @hajigayy @aleksanderwh0r3 @drayshadow @tonyedwardstarkk @londoncherry @ashookykooky @lotusnegra666 @loverstyless @yelenabel0vaswife @t0xicmuse @ohmydamgods @jordannfields @tomriddles-wh0re @amy-writes-blog @muted-mayham @shawkneecaps @dreamerball @earthtokace @thehighladyofday @theverydramaticcabbage @lala-llama123 @tootsdoll @slytherindaughterofposeidon0 @black-rose-29 @somekidnamedkai @possiblylostchasecousin @silver-gemini @hamdehlesmis @shadowsndaisies @cami05sworld @does-anyone-hear-me @scarlets-widow @sol-the-salmon @hipsdofangirl @tatofan @missusstark @atryx0-tal @iamparou

if your username is bolded that means i can’t tag you ! you probably have your visibility settings on !

#percy jackson x you #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson fic #percy jackson x reader #percy x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson headcanon #my writing

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limeinaltime · 2 years ago

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Since Episode 2 is out it’s remaster time babeyyyy

I’ve honestly wanted to rework my OC AU for a while and the characters were in need of some de-edgifying and tighter writing, so while it’s still hideously incomplete because I just watched the episode and might still be in shock, I do have things to share. So. Many. Things.

- The Internecion Drones come from a phase JCJ had where they got really experimental with the nanites, and accidentally made one that allowed the IDs and all the other drones that were built at the time to “age” aka grow in size as time passed.

- The IDs started out as war machines, but JCJ got boycotted for supporting war and building powerful machines and were like “lmao what war machines”, leading to the IDs getting tossed into the basement and recycled into other workers, who would eventually become the Murder Drones

- X is still the oldest Murder Drone in the AU/OC cast, and was basically a result of JC Jenson fucking around too much and finding out. As the first drone to be outfitted with the experimental nanites, she is pretty much a war veteran and after the IDs were recalled and repurposed, she was experimented on for a bit before the remaining IDs were bought as head of security at the mansion shown in the episode.

- While X, R and S were heads of security as well as the wardens for the Workers at the mansion, Q was the sole head of medical and in charge of making sure the rich people didn’t have to “waste money” on repairs.

- Several other pseudo-IDs (The Projects) were bought by the family for added efficiency and because they looked cool. 7, Hotel, Iota were among them. They were kind of assholes to the then-Workers because they were “replaceable”, but noticably did it less after X was alerted of this.

- The security staff weren’t allowed to form any form of empathy towards the Worker Drones, but X ended up taking them under her wings and teaching them things and treating them kindly in her own aloof, . This harmless intent is what gets her exiled later on.

- When the WDs were repurposed into Murder Drones, X and R were still put in charge of training them, as they were the most deployed of their assembly line. S was more of a warden/monitor and Q remained on repair duty.

- Core Drones are a derivative of the Internecion Drones specifically built for handling extreme environments such as near the cores of planets where all the valuable materials form, because what’s more similar to an active battlefield than bumping elbows with the burning core of a planet.

- They had the power to re-direct energy/electricity to help in clearing and dispelling obstacles and rubble, and grew at a smaller and slower rate than the IDs (similar to that of humans, but only slightly quicker) due to the nanites in their bodies.

- Eko’s AI was hand-made by her mother to save her from being wiped out, but an quirk with her system causes her to have more internal energy than a normal Core Drone, resulting in the blue electricity I often draw her with. She can now release it in controlled bursts that can blast back or temporarily paralyze targets based on the strength of the blast, or she can channel it throughout her body for an quick boost (or a convenient light source, like a glowstick). She also has the Absolute Solver, but mostly uses it for her medical/repair work.

- She also doubles as a forensic since Core Drones were also responsible for “disposing”/consuming the fallen bodies of their fellow Worker Drones as an energy source after identifying the cause o death and sending reports back to the humans.

- Eko’s mom, Indy, has two different fates now. In HPE, she survives this shutdown by accidentally discovering a way to prune that kill switch in her AI but not having the time to do the same for her kin, and beforehand had a thing with the teacher guy who vouches for them to be let in (and convinces the bunker that no, they are not robo-zombies take a chill pill y’all). In my personal AU, Indy does get wiped out but is able to prune the kill switch from her daughter’s AI before uploading it to Eko’s new body.

- Poor girl got Carrie-ed so bad in high school. There’s prom-related trauma involved as well.

-Eko and Khan’s relationship is way less messed up up, and is more well-meant but misguided on Khan’s part and more tired but reluctantly understanding on Eko’s. He does genuinely care about Eko as much as everyone else in the bunker, and sent her away to spare her from the bullying that led to a lot of pressure and complaints from the other parents after the prom incident. The two are much more amicable now, although tense due to Eko’s reasonable frustration at Khan caving in and cutting her teenhood short, but she mostly thinks he should focus more on the daughter he has instead of trying to form a parasocial father/daughter dynamic with her.

- Uzi and Eko’s relationship is a lot less bitter and has better communication, and Eko gets Uzi enough to know how to not completely set off Feral Teen Mode™, acting as her sort-of guardian in Khan’s absence and having to serve as a stand-in for all the life experiences the Doormans are missing out on. Uzi probably has the most respect for Eko out of anyone in the bunker due to Eko’s “unflappable, sarcastic, retired anime protagonist who has seen some shit” personality and godlike sharp-shooting skills, and Eko totally wasn’t the start of Uzi’s bi disaster awakening and she totally doesn’t have immense respect and admiration that she’s subconsciously perceived as a super secret senpai crush on Eko what are you talking about that’s so stupid lmao.

- M, E and D were also butlers as well, and M was well-liked due to his charisma, general charming outwards personality and impeccable ability to fake it til’ he makes it. It was this that gave the company the idea to give him the shape-shifting nanites, to test how far he could push that ability. The answer is pretty damn far.

- O was a performer/dancer before she was turned into an MD and put on a happy facade to hide how miserable she was. She used to be friends with N and V, but was killed and replaced as one of the chosen squad leaders by J after she started regaining fragments of her memories as a Worker.

- Mae is an orphan but didn’t have good parents, and has the same thing going on as Doll. The two aren’t sisters or even related anymore, but still have a close bond and hang out when Doll isn’t with Lizzy or the other cheerleaders. Mae isn’t a popular student due to her circumstances and air of mystery, but she’s still very sweet and uses the Absolute Solver abilities she has to repair things and to tend to a glacial cave garden she found while exploring the bunker.

- In comparison to the mechanical bugs Doll has associated with her, Mae has mechanical butterflies that hang around her and sometimes bring her things.

#murder drones #oc #Hell. Pain Even. (Murder Drones Edition)#deus ex murder machina #soup speaks

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fangirlovestuff · 4 years ago

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More Than Meets The Eye - Steve Rogers x reader

a/n - hey lovely people!! this one is for @s1utforfictionalcharacters, who asked for a Steve x reader enemies to lovers a while ago. thank you so much for bearing with me and being patient, and i hope you enjoy!!<3

Summary: Between figuring out what was the Tesseract doing at a Hydra base and if it even is the Tesseract, you need to navigate your relationaship with one annoying, broody Captain. Honestly, you might prefer the Hydra thing.

this isn’t set in the mcu timeline, but takes inspiration from a few mcu movies. it’s not canon compliant and everyone’s alive:)

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: lowkey angst and some tension, maybe a curse word or two? tell me if i missed anything!

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

"Rogers!" you heard Tony's voice over the comms, "Where the hell are you?"

"Babysitting," you heard Steve's irritated voice, not only over the comms but also behind you, right before you saw him dashing past you to punch the Hydra agent you were fighting square in the jaw.

"Well, get America's ass over here, now," Tony grunted, clearly mid-fight himself, "we need backup."

"Go!" you yelled at him, spinning to take out another agent that was coming up behind Steve, "I got this!"

"You sure?" he asked, his tone sarcastically degrading, jumping while kicking two agents simultaneously. Showoff.

"Yes," you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, "I can handle them, go help the others!"

"Alright," he grunted as he pushed off another agent before running back in the direction he came from, towards the rest of the team.

"Cap, you coming or what?" Natasha spoke on the comms, calmer than Tony, but it was obvious she's just as in need of backup as he was.

"Coming!" Steve replied, before it went relatively quiet.

You finished up disarming the rest of the agents in your wing of the building. No one was calling for you on the comms yet, so you decided to make another round in the perimeter, make sure you didn't miss anything.

God knows captain know-it-all is gonna be on your ass about it if that's the case. And honestly, you have more than enough of that as is.

As you were walking down the hallway, you noticed a strange, glowing light coming from under the doors. Upon finding it was unlocked, you opened it to reveal a room that was entirely filled with the same blueish light you had seen, and it was all coming from a desk in the middle of it.

Approaching slowly and letting your eyes time to adjust, you got closer and closer, realizing the shiny object was a peculiar blue cube. A cube you knew well, perhaps even too well.

"Guys, if you're done over there, you might wanna come to my wing. There's something you're gonna want to see."

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

"Okay, we have to keep looking, maybe they left some blueprints or anything that can indicate how they were planning on using it," Steve commanded, "or already have."

"Wait," you said before everyone split up to follow his orders, "as important as the why they got it is, I think the first question we should be asking is how the hell they got it. I thought it was locked away in the Asgard safe?" you looked at Bruce, who out of all of you had the most contact with Thor.

"It was, the last time I checked," he frowned. "I'll see if I can contact Thor, see if he knows anything."

"You do that," Tony interjected, "the rest of you, follow Cap's order while he and I have a little chat. Shall we Rogers?" he pulled a frowning Steve aside, while you all split up to try and find any information you could salvage.

In your search, you ran into Natasha. As you were both scouring the same desk for clues, working together like a well-oiled machine, you asked, "what did Tony want from Cap?"

"Probably to ask him where the hell was he when we needed his backup," she said matter-of-factly. "Or, you know, where the heck he was. We all know Steve's proper like that," she smiled, and you let out a chuckle at her words.

"Well, that’s good," you remarked, "since he really should've been there for you guys. I don't know what was that all about," you scrunched up your nose. "Nothing here," you added, closing the drawer you were looking through.

"Yeah, here too," Natasha closed her own drawer, "let's go."

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

Later that day, you were all having dinner together as you went over some papers the others found at the Hydra base. Since you were already in the same place, you split the takeout, taking caution not to spill any of it.

"Cap," you asked, seeing the saltshaker was too far for you to reach, "Can you pass me th-" your words were abruptly cut by him planting it in your hand, going back to whatever it is he was reading.

"Thanks," you muttered, going back to your paperwork as well.

This might be the place to mention that pretty much ever since you joined the team, Steve exhibited a certain… coldness to you. Arrogance, indifference, call it what you want – from day one, Steve Rogers made sure you knew he was better than you.

And considering he was literally Captain America, it's not like you thought you were ever better than him in the first place.

You blended in with the rest of the team seamlessly, fighting and training among them. I mean sure, there were jokes about you being "the new kid", but it was just that – jokes. No one, or at least no one but Steve, seemed to view you as inferior.

You still fought well together, it was your job. Hell, he just passed you the salt before you even finished asking for it. Being attuned to each other's actions and attitude in that way made it all the more obvious how much he seemed to covet his leadership position, his place of dominance.

It got on your nerves. So. Much.

You see, if he were like that to everyone else on the team, so be it. But the absolute majority of it was directed towards you – the new girl. And it was clear that's all he ever saw you as. A girl.

Even that salt thing – he handed it over so impatiently, so suddenly, like one would handle an irritating child.

You had hoped he'd get over it at some point, but so far, that didn't seem to be the case. Well, you're not planning on going anywhere, so you'll both have to get over yourselves at some point.

"Hey!" Steve snapped his fingers in front of your eyes, shaking you from your reverie. "C'mon, listen up. Tony found something."

Oh well, that "some point" is probably not today.

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

"So, Hydra wanted to use this," Natasha gestured at the Tesseract, "To power up a weapon they've designed?"

"That's the gist of it," Tony confirmed. "But from the looks of it, this thing is a lot more powerful than it seems. They planned on powering up a whole armored aircraft, plus all of their rifles using this cube. If that's possible, and by the looks of it, it very well might be, it's a lot stronger than you'd think."

"Wait, what do you mean their rifles as well?" you asked, your brows furrowing, "like, split this thing into pieces?"

"No, it looks like they were planning to project its power somehow, like…" Tony trailed off, struggling to explain.

"Like… Bluetooth?" you suggested.

"Yeah," tony snickered, "pretty much."

"Okay, but they didn't do that yet, right? We stopped them?" you looked around to the rest of your teammates before looking back at Tony.

"Seems like we did," Steve answered instead. "Bruce, any update on how they managed to get it?"

"Didn't hear anything back yet," the man in question shook his head, "I'll try again."

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

When Bruce ended up getting an answer from Thor, telling him to come to Asgard, you immediately volunteered to go with him. It was partially because you've never actually been there, and you were very curious as to why Thor would ask Bruce to come.

But also, you could use a break from a certain Captain.

You tried to ask Bucky and Sam what his deal with you was, several times, but they just shrugged and gave you vague, unhelpful answers. You even considered trying to convince Wanda to just tell you what he thinks about you, but you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of bothering you so much that you'd stoop that low.

So lately, you've been just trying to avoid him, which usually worked just fine, since it's not like he was that adamant about being around you either. That is, until you said you'd go with Bruce.

"No way," he immediately objected.

"Why?" you asked, "Bruce might need some backup, and I'd like to visit Asgard. Win-win."

"We need you here, going over the papers."

"C'mon Cap, I think we both know I do better out there in the field than I do with all the blueprints. Tony's way better with that, he's the only one who does it anyway."

"So what, you're just gonna go on a field trip?" he sneered.

"No, I'm going to look out for my friend and teammate." It took everything in you to keep your voice level.

"That's nice. Cause it would be a shame if Banner had to watch your back while you went on vacation."

You scoffed. "Where did you even get that idea? I said I was gonna give Banner backup. That's the first thing I said, cause that's the most important thing. End of story."

"Fine." Steve shrugged.

"Fine?"

"Yeah, if Banner's willing to take you with him, go."

"Good," you nodded.

"Great."

Somewhat awkwardly, you shuffled out of the room to tell Bruce to count you in.

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

Natasha was the one to send both you and Bruce off to Asgard, the rest being otherwise occupied.

"Be safe," she told the both of you, holding each of your shoulders with one of her hands, before stepping away.

"We will," Bruce promised and you nodded, and just in time the Bifrost came down, taking the both of you where you needed to get.

Thor was the one to greet you, taking you both in for a warm hug before his face became serious.

"I didn't call you all the way here for nothing," he said, "come with me to the palace."

As you were on your way, he explained. "When you told me you encountered the Tesseract in Midgard, I immediately checked in our vault. Sure enough, there's still a Tesseract there."

"A Tesseract? I thought there was just the one," you frowned.

"We did too," Thor replied, "which is why I wanted you both to come see it for yourselves. Maybe you'd be able to point out some differences."

Getting to the palace, you wasted no time going down to the vault. And there it was – the Tesseract.

"How…" you trailed off. It looked completely identical to the one you had found on earth, the same blue tinted glint lighting up its surroundings.

"That's what I was hoping you might have an answer for," Thor sighed, his brows furrowing. "You said the one you encountered was previously in the possession of a group called… Chimera?"

"Hydra," Bruce corrected him. "And yes, we found it in one of their bases."

"Is it possible that the one we found was a fake?" you asked, lifting your eyes from the Tesseract. "Or maybe this one is the fake? Is there a way to know?"

"The only way to know is to try and use them," Bruce sighed, "but trying to wield the power of an infinity stone can be dangerous and destructive to the one who tries. It's something we should try and avoid."

"Okay," you thought, "can't we try and take this one to earth? See if maybe Tony could run some tests on them both, find us a lead as to which one's the real one?"

"That sounds like a good idea," Bruce agreed, "or at least the best one we've got. Can we take it?"

"Of course. I trust you to guard it," he looked at Bruce fondly.

"Thank you," Bruce's eyes and smile are sincere as he shakes Thor's hand.

You pick up the Tesseract tentatively, putting it in your bag and looking back up at Bruce, whose handshake with Thor was still lingering. You hated to interrupt, but you two needed to go back to earth to fill your friends in if you wanted to solve this mystery.

"Shall we?" you asked, somewhat softly.

"Yeah," Bruce shook his head slightly, "Let's go."

You trailed behind Bruce and Thor as you made your way back to the Bifrost, thinking it over.

If the Tesseract you found on earth was the fake, then why would Hydra have a fake? And if the one that was currently in your bag was the fake, then why would they just leave the real one lying around while the Avengers stormed their base? And at any case, how did they manage to make such an accurate replica?

"Thank you, Thor," you said sincerely once you reached the end of the Bifrost. "We're going to figure this out."

"I know you will," he said, and touched your shoulder affectionately.

You said your goodbyes, and then, you and Bruce started to make the journey home, until suddenly you felt a force push you out of the Bifrost, and before you knew it you landed on dirt, rolling a few times, Bruce landing a few feet away from you.

Hurriedly getting up, you helped Bruce to his feet as well, before the two of you looked around to find yourself in the middle of what seemed to be a desert, but it was like nothing you've seen before.

The sand was orange, red, much darker than it was in deserts you've been to. You and Bruce landed in some sort of valley, surrounded by large dunes of the dark sand, creating a perfect circle around you.

"Have any idea where we are?" you asked, trying to keep your cool, "Or how we got here?"

"I-"

His words were cut off by the sound of a gun cocking behind you. Instinctively, you crouched down and spun around, sending your leg out, taking the man down with a kick to his ankles.

But it wasn't enough. Before you could fully get back up, you and Bruce were already surrounded by agents, and the fight quickly escalated into a hand-to-hand one, having to take on multiple agents at a time. At some point, Bruce hulked out, but even then, you were still fighting them all simultaneously.

You barely managed to take in the glint of a knife from the corner of your eye before the felt the sharp sting of it on your ribs, your hand automatically going to hold the wound. The man started running in the other direction, which was when you realized you weren't the objective of this attack.

Your bag was.

"Bruce!" you yelled, trying to get his attention, as you started trying to run after the agent.

But before Bruce could even notice you, a deep rumble sounded through the air, the prominent crackling of thunder. You turned around just in time to see Thor coming down from the sky, Mjolnir clad tightly in his fist, sending bolts of lightning at your enemies.

You turned back and tried to keep running, but you couldn't do it fast enough, the wound in your ribcage still bleeding, and soon, the agent disappeared from sight.

You were panting when the battle died down, a mere few minutes after Thor's arrival. You didn't turn around, even as you sensed Bruce and Thor approaching you from behind.

"I lost it," you said, still unable to meet their eyes.

"They took it," Bruce said gently. "Now, let me take a look at that wound."

Well, you thought, that's not how Steve's going to see it.

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

"You lost it?" Steve asked, his disbelief clear. His eyes were trained on you, a frown on his face.

"She got hurt trying to protect it, Steve," Bruce answered before you could. "We'll get it back."

Steve's eyes didn't waver from yours, even as Bruce spoke.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice coming out smaller than you wanted to. You cleared your throat, continuing stronger, "I did everything I could."

"I told you, you shouldn't have gone out there," he sighed, frustrated.

"Really, Cap?" you asked, "is this the time for 'I told you so's? for a hundred-year-old that's really fucking childish," you said through your teeth.

"Watch it," he snapped, "next time, maybe if you listen to me you won't get hurt."

"If I'm that bad of a soldier, Captain," you spat out, "am I not dispensable to you? Why do you even care if I get hurt? I bet it would've been just the same to you if I died but you still had the Tesseract."

Your words rendered him speechless, and you turned to walk towards the med bay. Bruce offered you his arm, but the look you sent him made it very obvious you weren't interested in company.

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

The wound healed well. You and Steve were… civil, to say the best.

You'd admit your words that day you were back from Asgard were harsh. You'd even admit that to his face, if he'd change his attitude towards you. Which he didn't, so really, maybe he deserved to hear them.

Anyways, a few days after the Asgard thing, the wound was fine, and you had an idea.

"Hey," you asked Tony, who happened to be next to you at the moment, "what if we go ask Strange?"

"What?" he looked up from the robot he was currently tinkering with.

"What if we went to Strange to ask him about the Tesseract?" you repeated, "he'd probably know more than us about this stuff."

Tony wasted no time in calling a team meeting, in which you told the others your idea about reaching out to Strange.

"That's a really good idea," Steve said.

Taken aback, you opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, he continued, "I'm coming with you."

Yep, it was way too good to be true.

"Why?" you asked, frowning. "I thought Tony would come, since he's already had a run-in with him before."

"Yes, but I think we can agree he's not the most diplomatic person out there," Steve smirked.

"I'm right here," Tony remarked dryly.

Steve paid him no mind and continued, "And besides, he's pretty much the only one except Bruce that knows enough to figure out Hydra's blueprints, and we still need all hands on deck in that front. So, I'm coming with you," he finished in a tone that left no room for argument.

You considered objecting anyways, but knew whatever you'd say would sound childish and tactless, so you simply nodded at him.

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

Since the Sanctum Dr. Strange usually resided in was in New York, there was no need for Steve and you to take the Quinjet, but you did take a car from Tony's collection, which Steve drove. The car ride was filled with quite the uncomfortable silence, but at least it was better than arguing, right?

Small victories.

When Steve parked the car about a block away from the Sanctum, you both got out swiftly, blending right in with your civilian clothes, and making your way to the doorstep.

There, Steve knocked on the door hesitantly. You both listened, but there was no answer. You held onto the handle and managed to open the unlocked door easily. You exchanged a look with Steve, both of you on high alert, and entered through the door, Steve closing it behind you.

You both silently stood in the threshold, contemplating your next move. Eventually, you took a tentative step forward, and just then a red object whipped right in front of your eyes, making you stumble backwards, right into Steve. You quickly turned around to apologize, but before you noticed it the red fabric was wrapped tightly around your arms, holding them tight against your torso. Steve was in a similar predicament, and since the cape wasn’t that long, you two were left tied face to face and extremely close to each other.

You tried to wiggle out of the fabric's hold, but it was almost like it tightened with your every move, adjusting itself accordingly. You struggled against it, trying to move even the slightest bit, but it wouldn't budge. You sighed, looking up at Steve.

Oh my god, he was way closer than you'd realized. His wide frame towering over you, you swallowed dryly before you whispered, "What now?"

Before he could answer, the sound of footsteps carried through the halls, and soon enough, Dr. Stephen Strange was descending down the stairs of the New York Sanctum to greet you.

"Hello," he said, his face indifferent, "I wasn't expecting you."

"Well, we weren't expected to get so… tied up, so that makes three of us," Steve remarked, prompting you to chuckle.

"Hello, Dr. Strange," you introduced yourself to him, "the Captain and I were wondering if you could help us with some… Tesseract trouble."

"Sounds awful," he smirked slightly. "Follow me," he started going up the stairs again and you exchanged a look with Steve. "Oh right," he gestured with his hand, and the red fabric detangled itself from the two of you, and turned out to be a cloak as it wrapped around Strange's shoulders. "I almost forgot," the man chuckled, "Now come on."

You and Steve exchanged another look as you rubbed your arm where the cloak dug into it a little, before following Strange up the stairs and into the library, where he offered you two chairs to sit in before sitting down in front of you. In the air. He was sitting down while floating.

Still less weird than the cloak, in your opinion.

"So," he started, "what, uh, Tesseract trouble are you having, exactly?"

Steve and you took turns explaining the situation to him, from finding a Tesseract in a Hydra base to losing the one that was previously in Asgard. Steve, to your relief and wonder, said nothing about it being your fault, but just said it wasn't in your possession anymore.

"So," you summed up, "we were wondering if you knew how anyone could manage to replicate the Tesseract this well, and how can we tell which one's the fake one. Without using them, of course."

"Well, those are great questions. I don't know of another way to determine if an infinity stone is indeed real besides taking the risk and trying to use it, so I can't help you with that. But as for the fake, I believe opening the Tesseracts will provide a good enough answer. You see, the Tesseract isn't that hard to fake. Might be a little expensive, sure, but some lights and plastic and you're set, and from what I understand Hydra isn't exactly struggling financially. But," he sighed, "you can’t fake an infinity stone. For most people, once you'll come in direct contact with it, you'll feel its power, and also its destructive properties."

"So the only way to know if an infinity stone is real is to risk touching it?" Steve asked.

"As far as I know of, yes," Strange nodded.

"Thank you," you said, "for your help. We sure get back to the compound, but we'll let you know if there are any big developments."

When Steve and you got back to the compound, everyone was already waiting for you, and you told them what Strange told you. Together, you all went to open the tesseract you had found in the Hydra base.

"Be careful not to touch what's inside," you warned, and Tony put of his Iron Man arm before breaking the side of the glowing cube, opening it to find…

A bunch of wires and lightbulbs. They didn't even try to make it look like an infinity stone.

"Well, the one in Asgard could've also been a fake," Natasha shrugged. "This doesn't really tell us anything. C'mon guys, we'll continue the search tomorrow," she touched your shoulder comfortingly before slipping away.

You were about to do the same when you saw Steve fidgeting with his sleeve, around where the cloak was wrapped around him. You walked up to him.

"You okay?" you asked, expecting him to brush you off.

"Yeah, I just think this cape held on a little too strong," he chuckled, removing his hand to reveal a stain on the fabric of his right suit sleeve, on you knew all too well was blood.

"Oh my god," you frowned. "C'mon, I'll help you clean it up," you gestured towards the med bay.

The walk there was brief and silent, and when you got there, you told Steve to sit down before ripping his sleeve enough to see the shallow wound.

"You don't have to do this," Steve said, as you looked for some gauze pad and wet it with water.

"I know," you said, "but since I'm the reason we needed to go there in the first place, I am doing this."

"You know it's not your fault, right? You couldn’t have known he'd have a magical cape that ties up people."

"That's not what I was talking about," you mumbled, before cleaning the wound gently.

Steve sighed. "I guess I do owe you an apology for the Asgard thing. I acted like a jerk. I'm sorry."

"No, you were right," you chuckled bitterly, "it's my fault we lost what might've been the real space stone to Hydra. You were just the only one willing to admit that."

"Well, I hope you know what you said about me then wasn't true. I care. You know, if you get hurt. And I wouldn't want anyone to die so I can have anything."

"I know," you said dryly, "you're too perfect for that."

You finished cleaning the wound and started bandaging it.

"That's not- god, I really do have a way with words, don't I? you probably hate me by now."

"I don't hate you, Steve," you looked up from his arm to his eyes, and he smiled at you. "Relax, it doesn't mean I like you all that much either," you smirked, prompting him to laugh.

"Yeah, that's fair, I guess. Thank you," he gestured to his now bandaged arm.

"Sure," you sent a small smile his way before walking away.

Maybe Steve Rogers wasn't that bad after all.

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

Okay, scratch that, Steve Rogers was the worst.

The conversation actually started out civil. Nice, even.

"Hey, Cap," you started, "do you know if Bruce found anything on the wiring in the fake Tesseract yet?"

"Nope," he turned to face you.

"Oh. Well, thanks," you smiled, "I'll just…" you gestured at the exit, but he stopped you.

"Wait. Actually, I wanted to talk to you. Can you…" he gestured at the empty chair in front of him, and you sat down.

"About the whole Tesseract thing," he started, "I think you should consider sitting this one out."

"What?" you frowned.

"I just…" he sighed, "I think it might be better if you sat this one out."

"Steve, I found the Tesseract in the first place," you said, getting angrier by the second, "I'm not backing down from this."

"You found the fake Tesseract," he corrected, "and lost what might have been the real one."

"I thought you said it wasn't on me."

"It's not, but still."

"I don't get it, a few days ago you were telling me it wasn't my fault and now you're benching me because of it?"

"I just… you're clearly very invested in this-"

"Which is why I deserve to stay on this mission," you cut him off, fighting to keep your voice level.

"Which is why I think you should sit it out," he ignored you, "because you don't need to get yourself hurt for this."

"I'm an Avenger just like you," you snapped, "you might get hurt as well. So might everyone else. I don't get why I'm any different."

"I told you, because you're too emotionally invested," he insisted, his tone rising.

"Oh, you're benching me cause I'm 'emotional'? really? That's your excuse?"

"That's not an excuse, I-"

"No, tell me, Steve, what's your problem with me? Just spit it out, clearly you have one. What have I done to you to make you hate me?" you were yelling now, exasperated at his flawed logic.

"I don't hate you."

"That's all you have to say?" you scoffed. "You know what? If you're letting whatever your problem is with me to get in the way of the mission, maybe you're the emotional one."

The charged atmosphere was interrupted by Natasha's frame showing up in the doorway.

"Hey guys," she started, before looking between the two of you. "Is this a bad time?" she waited a second before shrugging, "Doesn't matter. There are sightings of suspicious activity midtown, we think it can be Hydra. We gotta move, be down in five," she stated, before walking down the hallway, leaving Steve and you alone once more.

"I-" he started.

"Let's go," you said at the same time, before simply turning away to go and suit up. You had a battle to win, no matter what he thought.

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

"So," Tony started once you were all on the Quinjet, "Here's what we know – Hydra is probably in the possession of the real Tesseract, since we just got word of people seeing a big aircraft over midtown. My guess, they wanted to test the new weapons out before using them on a larger scale," he said, "which is why it would be the best thing to stop them now."

You split up into groups, Tony, Wanda and Sam going after the aircraft, Bucky and Steve go one way on the ground, you and Natasha the other. Thanking every god you knew you weren't paired up with Steve, you and Natasha ran and turned into a large square, starting to point people away from the steady stream of Hydra agents that was coming your way.

You and Natasha were both fighting off the agents together, most of the civilians already cleared from the area, when suddenly, they just… stopped, all in unison.

"Avengers," a voice with a heavy accent boomed through the air, presumably from the aircraft, magnified by speakers, "I know what you're here for," the voice chuckled. "Come and get it."

All at once, the Hydra agents in front of you pulled out something from their bags, or the pockets of their jackets, and it took you a second to realize what it is – exact replicas of the Tesseract. Dozens of them, maybe even hundreds.

You looked over at Natasha, who was just as exasperated as you were. "We gotta break these things," she said, and you nodded in understanding, charging at the men and women with renewed energy.

Because this was your chance to fix what you broke, to make things right. To show Steve you're better than your mistakes.

That was the mantra that was going in your head, as you smashed Tesseract after Tesseract, even as you found nothing but wires, you kept repeating it – fix what you broke.

Slowly but surely, you and Natasha tackled and defeated more and more agents, moving closer towards where they were coming from – the aircraft, that was lowering more and more, sending out more agents, in a wave that seemed never ending.

Expect when you got closer, you noticed that there was a staircase going down from it. A staircase that at the top of stood a small an in old fashioned army clothes, holding, how not, a small, glowing cube in his hand.

Your vision zeroed in on him. You had a target.

Barely stopping to disarm the other agents, you quickly made your way through the crowd of agents surrounding you, until you were right at the bottom of the staircase. You looked up to see the man still standing on top, smiling at the chaos unraveling at his feet.

You decided to take advantage of the fact he hasn't seen you yet, and climbed the staircase from the bottom side, hanging on to creases and bumps, to keep the advantage. When you got to the top, you tried to swing yourself over the rails. You would've fallen down if a hand wouldn't have reached out, catching your arm and throwing you back on the staircase, right side up.

"Ah, the new kid," the man snickered above you, "I've heard about you. Were you really the one they sent here?"

"No one sent me," you hissed as you got up. "Now hand over the stone and it'll be much more pleasant for you."

"So much spite," he laughed, "but alas, I don't think I will, sweetheart."

"Whatever you say," you delivered a poignant kick to his knee, "sweetheart."

You tried to punch him, but this time he was quicker, avoiding your blow and landing one of his own on your shoulder. You shrugged it off and continued to try and pry the stone from his hands. The struggle was drawing attention, and Natasha yelled at you to watch out just in time before a Hydra agent from down there shot at you, only missing narrowly.

You continued to fight the man, who was stronger than he let on, considering he was fending you off with only one hand, but you also had getting shot to worry about, which was in his favor.

At last, you managed to knock the Tesseract out of his hand, and it fell to the ground in a shattering sound. Out of the broken pieces, there were no wires to be seen, only a stone.

Bingo.

You heard Steve shout something at you from far down, but you weren't paying attention, instead diving for the stone, grasping it in your hand, along with some shards of glass that cut you, but you couldn't care less, because this was it.

Fix what you broke.

You concentrated with all your might of the stone, its power almost physically throbbing in your hand, along with the excruciating pain, but you didn't care.

Fix what you broke.

Your breathing became labored, the pain near insufferable when you finally did it – opened a portal. You didn't know where it led, but the important thing is, it wasn't here. You threw the stone away with all the power you had left in you, praying it would reach so far you'd never see it again.

Fix. What. You. Broke.

Just in time, the portal closed, and you sighed gratefully. The pain was starting to take over now, your mind dancing on the edge of consciousness when you heard voices coming towards you. You wanted to tell them you were fine, but you found yourself falling to the ground, registering the pain of the fall before everything went black.

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

When you woke up, your first thought was that the light's too bright. It felt almost like a hangover, but way worse, and

"I didn't even drink anything," you said, before breaking into a dry cough.

In a second, Steve was there by your side with a glass of water, holding it to your mouth. You took some small sips until you calmed down enough to remember that while no, you didn't drink anything, you did wield the power of an infinity stone, which means it's a miracle you're even alive.

So really, you should be thankful all you ended up with is an awful hangover. Of sorts. A magical hangover.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked, breaking you from your reverie, and making you meet his gaze with yours.

"As much as I can be," you replied, your gaze falling to the blanket that was laid on you. "how long was I out?"

"About 18 hours," he said solemnly, "we didn't… we weren't sure if you'd wake up," he admitted, his voice dropping below a whisper by the end.

"Can't get rid of me that easily," you joked. Despite everything Steve put you through, for some reason you couldn't stand to see him this devastated.

"No, don't-" he sighed, "no one wants to get rid of you. Least of all me. Hell, thinking I'd lost you and it was my fault… hurt more than I could imagine."

"It wouldn't have been your fault, if I, you know," you shrugged, "that was my choice. I had to fix what I broke."

"No, you didn't," he insisted, his eyes snapping up to meet yours once more, "because you didn't break anything. None of this was your fault, and yet you fixed it, alone. You risked wielding the power of an infinity stone to keep earth safe, alone. You shouldn't have been alone."

"It worked out just fine. Besides, what difference would it have made, one more injured person?"

"If I was quick enough… I don't believe the stone could've taken both of us down."

"Us?" you smirked, "I didn't know we were an 'us'. But it's fine, I can deal with that, I guess," you shrugged, and Steve chuckled. You couldn't tell if you were imagining it, but it looked like the slightest of blushes was sprinkled on his cheeks.

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

As a part of getting you back to normal, you started training again, moderately at first. But as you regained your strength, your training was almost as intense as it was before. Or maybe, even more intense.

You see, before that, you weren't training with Steve.

Since you didn't really get off to a good start, you'd always train with the others – Nat, Wanda, Sam… other non-super-soldier humans with a very human self-discipline, meaning that you could take breaks and chat in between reps.

Alas, those days were far behind you. I mean, not that far, that's just kind of dramatic, but you get it; you trained with Steve way more often and it was a nightmare.

You didn't know what standards Steve held for his other friends, but if he's like that with everyone then maybe it was better off not being his friend.

"What was that?" Steve asked, his eyes not moving from the timer, which looked comically small in his large hands.

"I said," you repeated between labored breaths and fast push-ups, "if you're like this with all your friends maybe I was better off not being one."

"Who said you are?" he shot back with a smirk, "and… time!"

You collapsed on the training room mattress, letting out a deep breath. "how much was that?"

"98 pushups in one minute," he stated, "not bad."

"Okay, Mr. captain super soldier," you breathed. "You know, maybe I should go back to doing these with Sam. A human being with normal people achievements," you sighed, faux-dreamily.

"I thought you wanted to get better?" Steve chuckled, extending his hand out to help you off the mattress.

"I'll tell him you said that," you smirked and took his hand, letting him help you up. Your touch lingered for the briefest of moments before you let go of his hand.

"Be my guest," Steve shot back, before taking a couple of sparring staffs off the wall, handing you one. An unusual technique in battle, but you found that practicing them with Steve provided a decent challenge to you both, since you were better with it than he was.

With both of you getting into a fighting stance, you started the match by dashing forward, trying to land one on his shoulder, but he quickly spun to the side, accompanied by a move of his staff that, fortunately for you, was a bit poorly aimed, thus only hit you in the arm.

You continued this back and forth for the next few minutes, one graceful move answered by a steady block from the other side, almost like a delicate dance. After a while, you felt yourself getting a little tired, and knew if you didn't end it now, he'd win.

And well, you just can't give him that kind of satisfaction.

You quickly planted your staff on the ground, using the momentum to jump up and wrap your legs around his neck, using your weight to push him down onto the mattress. You'll have to thank Natasha for that move.

His staff fell from his hand as he hit the floor, and you used your advantage to pin his arms above his head, making sure to lean enough of your weight on his torso so he couldn't move. You were both panting from the exertion of the fight, and you could feel a bead of sweat traveling down your back.

He smirked up at you. "Did Nat teach you that one?"

"Maybe," you raised your eyebrow in amusement. "But I executed it to perfection."

"You sure?" he asked, and before you could answer he broke free from your grasp, flipping the both of you so your torso was pinned below him, catching your arms the same way you did to him moments ago.

Breathing heavily, your tongue darted out to wet your lips. "Well, maybe not perfection," you murmured, "but I'd say I did pretty well. You're in nice shape for a hundred-year-old," you slowly grinned up at him.

"Just nice?" he mock pouted, not moving from his position above you.

"Yeah," you smirked, "from what I've seen."

"Well, maybe you've seen nothing yet," he suggested with a quirk of his eyebrow, his head lowering even closer to yours.

"Maybe," you said softly, standing your ground. His eyes were boring into yours, you could hear the shallow sound of his breath, feel it even.

Closing the distance between you was almost more impulse than an actual aware decision. Your lips met his soft ones, his momentum pushing you back against the mattress, your head hitting it with a soft thud you paid no mind to. One of his hands left yours, coming to cup your cheek as his tongue hesitantly entered your mouth, continuing eagerly when you let out a hum of approval, one of your hand sneaking around his neck and tangling in the hair on the nape of his neck, pulling slightly.

When you finally parted, your breaths were once again labored, but for an entirely different reason now.

"Okay, maybe you are in good shape," you rasped, shrugging as well as you could.

He chuckled before his eyes met yours. "You don't hate me," he stated incredulously.

"I already told you I didn't. I take it back, maybe old age is getting to you," you giggled.

He groaned lightly, making your laughter grow stronger.

Okay, so Steve Rogers wasn't the worst. Final verdict.

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

i’d love to hear your thoughts!!<3

Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers @evansphnx12 @starlightcrystalline @procrastinatingsapphictrash

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if you wanna join / be removed from a taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

#chris evans x reader #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #Steve Rogers x Female Reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers angst

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sciencespies · 4 years ago

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What Happens When Scientists Become Allergic to Their Research

https://sciencespies.com/nature/what-happens-when-scientists-become-allergic-to-their-research/

What Happens When Scientists Become Allergic to Their Research

Bryan Fry’s heart was pounding as he stepped back from the snake enclosure and examined the bite marks on his hand. He had just been bitten by a death adder, one of Australia’s most venomous snakes. Its neurotoxin-laced bite could cause vomiting, paralysis and — as the name suggests — death.

Fry, at the time a graduate student, had kept snakes for years. Oddly, the neurotoxins weren’t his biggest worry; the nearby hospital would have the antivenom he needed, and, although data is limited, people who receive treatment generally survive. Anaphylactic shock, on the other hand, might kill him within minutes.

“Anaphylactic shock is the single worst feeling you can possibly imagine,” recalled Fry, now a biologist at the University of Queensland in Australia. “It is just insane. Every cell in your body is screaming out in mortal terror.”

Fry, who had spent his life admiring and eventually studying venomous snakes, had become deathly allergic to them.

Bryan Fry observes a cobra on a trip to Pakistan. He is now deathly allergic to snake venom.

(Courtesy of Bryan Fry)

While most cases are not so extreme, anecdotal reports and expert analysis suggest that it is far from rare for scientists, students, and laboratory technicians to develop allergies to the organisms they study. Perversely, some allergy researchers say, it is the researchers’ passion for their subjects — the close observation, the long hours of work each day, and the years of commitment to a research project — that puts them at such high risk.

“It is true that some things cause allergies more often than others, but the biggest factor is the frequency of the interaction with the study organism,” said John Carlson, a physician and researcher at Tulane University who specializes in insect and dust mite allergies. “You probably have about a 30 percent chance of developing an allergy to whatever it is that you study.” While data is limited, that estimate is in line with research on occupational allergies, which studies suggest occur in as many as 44 percent of people who work with laboratory rodents, around 40 percent of veterinarians, and 25 to 60 percent of people who work with insects.

Federal guidelines suggest that laboratories have “well-designed air-handling systems” and that workers don appropriate personal protective equipment, or PPE, in order to reduce the risk of developing an allergy. However, interviews with researchers and experts suggest that there may be little awareness of — or adherence to — guidelines like these. For scientists working with less-common species and those engaged in fieldwork, information on what exactly constitutes appropriate PPE may be very limited.

Many researchers, perhaps especially those who do fieldwork, are used to being uncomfortable in service of their work, Carlson points out. “I think that a lot of researchers are so interested in the process of the research,” he said, “that they aren’t really considering the long-term effects that it could have on them.”

In general, allergies develop when the immune system overreacts to a substance that is usually harmless, or relatively harmless. The immune system monitors the body for potentially dangerous invaders like bacteria, fungi, and viruses. Sometimes, for reasons that are not well understood, the immune system identifies something benign, like pollen or animal dander, as dangerous. To help mark the intruder, a person who has become sensitized in this way produces antibodies, or types of proteins, to identify it.

When that person comes into contact with the substance again, the antibodies flag it as an invader. As part of the response, immune cells release compounds like histamine, which irritate and inflame the surrounding tissues, resulting in allergy symptoms.

Although some risk factors have been identified, researchers who study allergies are often unable to determine exactly why this overreaction occurs in some people but not others. But it’s clear that, for some substances, repeated exposures can increase the likelihood of an allergic response.

While anecdotes of allergic scientists abound, research into the issue is scant. The best documented are allergies to rodents, which are ubiquitous in biomedical research. But some scientists report allergies that are almost completely unstudied, potentially because relatively few people — at least in wealthy nations in which many allergy studies are conducted — regularly come into contact with the organisms that cause them.

For example, while most people avoid regular contact with leeches, University of Toronto doctoral student Danielle de Carle goes out looking for them. De Carle studies leech genetics in order to figure out how different species are related to one another and to understand how blood feeding evolved. To study the leeches, she first has to catch them, and like other researchers in her field, she uses her own body as bait.

“We wade into swamps and stuff, and we let them attach to us and feed from us,” she said. For most people, leech bites are relatively painless. When de Carle needed to keep the leeches alive in the lab, she would let them feed on her then as well.

Doctoral student Danielle de Carle now uses sausage casings filled with pig blood to nourish the leeches she studies.

(Courtesy of Danielle de Carle)

After about a year and a half of this, she started to notice symptoms. At first, the bites became itchy, but the more she was exposed, the worse it got. “The last time I fed a leech — which I try not to do anymore — my entire hand swelled up so much that I could hardly make a fist,” she said. “It itched like crazy.” De Carle said that, when she’s out hunting leeches now, she can avoid an allergic reaction if she removes the leech after it attaches itself to her, but before it starts to feed. For the leeches she keeps in the lab, she’s switched to feeding them pig’s blood from a butcher shop instead of letting them feed on her.

Nia Walker, a Ph.D. student in biology at Stanford University, has also begun reacting to her research organism. Walker studies how genetics influence coral bleaching resistance and recovery. She began to notice rashes on her hands during her third trip to conduct fieldwork on corals in Palau, an island nation in the South Pacific. “And then each subsequent trip after that, it got more and more extreme,” she said. “It got to the point where my face would bloat and I’d get welts on my hands from touching them.”

While her symptoms are especially intense, Walker said she’s not the only member of her lab who has developed a sensitivity. By now, she said, everyone in the lab has “developed a slight irritation to corals.” Walker has been able to manage her allergy by using protective equipment and over-the-counter antihistamines. “It’s sad,” she said, “but it’s also pretty funny.”

Sometimes, allergies that scientists have picked up during lab work can spill over into daily life. More than a decade ago, evolutionary biologist Karl Grieshop worked in a fruit fly lab in which bananas were a key part of the flies’ diet. Ever since, he said, his throat gets itchy every time he eats a banana. Jon Giddens, a doctoral student in plant biology at the University of Oklahoma, said that he didn’t have any allergies before he started studying Eastern redcedar, a small evergreen tree that is widespread in some regions of the country. But now, even though it’s been more than a year since he last worked with the species in the field, he has year-round nasal allergy symptoms, he thinks from the redcedar pollen in the air.

Likewise, Brechann McGoey, who received her doctorate in ecology and evolutionary biology from the University of Toronto, said she didn’t experience hay fever before she started her graduate work. But after repeated exposure to ragweed pollen during experiments, she developed symptoms like post-nasal drip and persistent cough. Even though she no longer works with the species, she still gets hay fever every fall during ragweed season. “It’s a souvenir from my Ph.D.,” she joked.

Reflecting previous research on occupational allergies in veterinarians, most of the researchers who spoke with Undark did not seek medical attention or get a formal diagnosis for their allergies.

Biologist Nia Walker attaches an ID tag to the base of a tabletop coral on the northern fore reef in Palau. Everyone in the lab she works in has “developed a slight irritation to corals,” Walker says.

(Dan Griffin / GG Films)

In many cases, scientists report that their allergies are annoying but manageable. But sometimes, the allergies force researchers to make major changes.

Entomologist Chip Taylor began his career studying sulphur butterflies as a Ph.D. student at the University of Connecticut. When he started his own lab at the University of Kansas in 1969, he had every intention of continuing to work with the species. But, he said, “by the time it rolled around to 1973, I realized I was so allergic to these butterflies.” Taylor began to experience asthma-like symptoms whenever he worked with them.

In the summer of that year, during a research trip to central Arizona, Taylor and a colleague rented a trailer to use as a workstation to process butterfly wing samples. “I could not go in the trailer,” he recalled. “I slept outside with my back up against a tree so my sinuses and my throat could drain.” To manage his symptoms, he was regularly taking prednisone, a powerful anti-inflammatory drug that can have serious side effects. “I decided that I had to get out of working with those butterflies,” Taylor said. “I had to readjust my career to work on something else.”

Taylor spent the next few decades studying killer bees. He returned to butterfly research in 1992, when he started the monarch butterfly conservation program Monarch Watch. Taylor said he’s never experienced any symptoms while working with monarchs — maybe, he guesses, because the two species produce different types of pigments.

Fry, the biologist who became allergic to snake venom, also said his allergy has shaped his career. The venoms of different snake species share similar components, Fry said, so someone who is allergic to one type of snake is likely allergic to many types. Because of this allergy, Fry also has to be extremely careful even around venomous snakes that are usually not dangerous to humans.

“Whenever I work with these animals now, I look like I’m going into the Hurt Locker,” he said, referencing the Oscar-winning movie about U.S. Army specialists who defused bombs in Iraq. “So, of course, in the tropical sun I’m absolutely melting.” Those limitations, he said, have made working with snakes less enjoyable. “I can’t just blithely interact with these animals that I find so absolutely fascinating, knowing that death is just around the corner at any given moment, even from a snake that normally wouldn’t be a medical problem.”

Fry survived his encounter with the death adder thanks to a snakebite kit containing injectable adrenaline and antihistamines, as well as a quick-thinking friend who raced him to the hospital. The allergy, he said, has caused him to redirect much of his research to studying venoms in other animals, including Komodo dragons, slow lorises (the world’s only venomous primates), funnel-web spiders, and box jellyfish. “I’ve managed to turn it into a good thing,” he said, “but it’s been nevertheless very frustrating.”

Allergy experts say that reducing exposure is the key to preventing allergy development. Exactly how much the exposure needs to be reduced is less clear, and increasing protection may be costly for institutions and inconvenient for researchers.

Some laboratories that use mice and rats have equipment and policies designed to reduce exposure to allergens. These labs install ventilation systems for the cages, use a robotic system to clean them out, house fewer animals per room, and provide an area for workers to change out of allergen-contaminated clothing. PPE such as masks, gloves, and gowns can also help researchers reduce their exposure.

But actually applying those preventative measures can be challenging, said Johanna Feary, who studies occupational lung disease as a senior clinical research fellow at Imperial College London.

In 2019, Feary and several colleagues published a study of seven research institutions in the United Kingdom that performed research on mice. They found that facilities that used individually ventilated cages, instead of open cages, had dramatically lower airborne allergen levels. But even that was not sufficient to prevent technicians from becoming sensitized to mouse allergens. The facilities with the lowest levels of sensitization were those where workers also wore properly fitted masks. The research, she said, demonstrated that, at least in the U.K., the development of allergies to lab animals “is probably preventable in almost all cases.”

But Feary said that lab animal allergies continue to be a problem for many people. “We should be getting better at it,” she said. “I’m not sure we are getting better at it.” The main reason, according to Feary, is that it can be costly to install equipment that reduces allergen exposure, such as those robotic cage cleaners, especially if it requires renovating older facilities.

It’s also hard to accurately assess the magnitude of the problem, she said, especially given that conditions and practices differ widely around the world. While well-run facilities will monitor workers’ exposure and health, “at the other end of the scale, you have filthy places with poor health and safety,” she said, where recordkeeping is patchy and people who develop allergies may simply feel compelled to seek work elsewhere. “So, it may look like everything’s fine, and nobody’s got any symptoms, but actually all the sick people have left,” Feary said.

It may also be the case that only the best-run facilities will report their data, she said, while the rest will simply not engage. Indeed, several years ago, when a group of Duke University researchers attempted a nationwide survey of the incidence of anaphylaxis associated with lab-animal bites in the U.S., only 16 percent of facilities even responded.

And with less well-studied allergies, there’s simply little information available regarding prevalence and what sorts of protections are sufficient to prevent their development. Several scientists living with allergies, though, said they think that more information and awareness could help increase the number of scientists taking precautions in their research.

Fry said there is more awareness of snake venom allergy than there was when he started formally studying snakes in the late 1990s. But, he added, “it’s still not as well-known as it should be.” Researchers in the field, he wrote in a follow-up email, can be reticent to talk about venom allergies. But, he said, “I’m quite candid about it because, you know, this is life-saving information.”

Walker, the coral biologist, said more research on allergies among researchers would be helpful. “A lot of these things can be addressed if you knew to look out for it,” she said.

Early-career scientists generally receive thorough training on proper handling of biohazards and harmful chemicals. Institutions often provide extensive safety plans for fieldwork to help researchers prepare for the various risks involved, from dehydration to hypothermia to bear attacks. But scientists may learn little about the potential for developing allergies to seemingly harmless organisms.

“I feel like maybe there’s a bit too much of a casual attitude about protective gear,” said McGoey, who developed an allergy after doing research on ragweed. “Maybe especially if you’re working with a plant or animal, where it’s like a natural thing, and you’re not in the lab with a chemical, maybe people are just not careful enough.”

“As silly as it sounds, just maybe having more emphasis on using PPE and the consequences of not doing it would be kind of nice,” said de Carle, the leech researcher. “It can be really easy to just think, like, ‘Oh, I don’t really need to wear gloves; I’m just touching flowers or whatever.’”

Carlson, the allergist, said that even well-informed researchers can get caught up in their enthusiasm for the work and rationalize not taking the proper precautions.

In 2009, Carlson worked on a project that involved collecting data on house dust mites, microscopic arthropods which cause nasal and respiratory issues in millions of people worldwide. Despite his expertise, he neglected PPE. “I know all this,” he said. “I know I should be wearing a mask, but it’s hot, and it’s sweaty, and I don’t have a boss telling me what to do.” As he worked, he developed a runny nose and itchy eyes — the first steps toward a full-fledged allergy. “I pushed through and I ended up hyper-sensitizing myself,” Carlson said, to the point that even getting down on the ground to play with his then-young children made him “absolutely miserable.”

Carlson is saddened thinking about those scientists who have to give up the work they love due to allergies. “I really do feel for these folks doing their work and developing an allergy,” he said. “The more we get the word out there, the better.”

Hannah Thomasy is a freelance science writer splitting time between Toronto and Seattle. Her work has appeared in Hakai Magazine, OneZero, and NPR.

This article was originally published on Undark. Read the original article.

#Nature

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spideyspeaches · 4 years ago

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Gold Rush ↬ t.h

Gif by @parkeraul :)

A/N: I'm in love with that song 🙈 also here's my super late contribution of professor!tom 😋 cause I've been procrastinating on the wandavision au (in my defence though, it's taking a lot of brainstorming 😂) anyway here you go-

Wc: 2.6k+

Warnings: lemme know if you find one :)

Summary: He taught British History and you chastise yourself for not auditing for that subject earlier.

Pairing: Professor!Tom x Student!Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

Waking up with a start, you groan at the shrill sound of your alarm. With a sigh that was more of a grunt of annoyance, you tried to reach for your phone at the side table, hissing when you felt the corner of your elbow hit the table, pain shooting up to your shoulder.

Great, you weren't even up yet and your day was already going shitty. You just hoped that your professor won't be grumpy about you being late for the millionth time this semester.

You hated cultural architecture. You had nothing against the course, but You hated your professor with a passion and wished that you could burn your textbooks for all you cared, right in front of your teacher's eyes, watch him writhe in fear as you banished the very existence of your material.

You were being dramatic, but in your defence, your professor was an old bastard who never left an opportunity to reprimand you, going as far as letting you know how uneven your margins were on your latest project.

He wore birkenstocks with a three piece. You wouldn't trust him with your assignments.

Getting out of your dorm room was work, hard work. But you got out, brushed your teeth and wore what you hoped were presentable clothing.

"You look hungover." Your roommate, Stacy, commented, spitting in the sink as you scowled at her.

She was straightforward, outspoken and somehow managed to look like one of those Victoria secrets models that you loathed, even at seven in the morning. You hated her.

(You didn't.)

"Thanks, I hope I smell too. Want that son of a bitch- what's his name, Wilson, to suffer for giving me that C minus on my thesis." You grumbled, rubbing your hands through your hair to flat them out.

"You really hate him, don't you." She snickered, popping off her shirt. You tried not to look, not wanting to come off as a pervert, but damn, she was fit. You contemplated her words, frowning at your own reflection.

You looked disheveled, the dark eye bags under your eyes very apparent as you tried to mask them with foundation, setting your hair for the millionth time. Oh well, you were presentable enough. Sweatpants would have to do for your only class today, you could binge Netflix after this wretched class.

"I do. I hope his third wife divorces him and he loses his thermos of coffee in the subway." You said, adding your look finally before wearing your shoes.

"That's cruel, didn't know you had it in you." She snickered, patting your back and following you as you closed the door, "Well I have to go to my boring science lectures now so, see you later hun."

"Yeah, enjoy your chemistry period with your boyfriend!" You cheered sarcastically, rolling your eyes and hugging her to tell her that you were only joking. Your relationship was this, of jokes and hugs and kisses. You considered her your best friend.

Rushing towards the gates of your university, you hastily tightened your loosening hair tie, adjusting the straps of your bags. You were pretty sure you had broken your record of being late to your class. You may hate the professor, but you actually enjoyed the subject.

Wheezing as you ran past the late comers, you nodded at the receptionist, hastily signing yourself in. You would blame your clumsiness for what happened next, because one second you were fixing your sande on the foot of the fountain, and next thing you knew you were crashing into a firm body, your nose hitting the random stranger’s chest.

"I’m so sorry! I’m kinda late to class and I wasn’t looking and- whoa, ow.” You rushed your words, groaning when you felt blood rush from your head to toe, nose throbbing with double vision, a reminder of your clumsiness.

“Whoa, hey calm down, it’s okay, I wasn’t looking either.” The stranger said, his thick South Western accent snapping you out of your self pity.

You felt blood rush to your cheeks instead, not anticipating your face in a flush this early in the morning, when you got a good look at the stranger. He was good looking, in his black high turtleneck and brown checkered pants. He had a small leather satchel clutched in his hands, face looking as flushed as you felt when you realised that you had been gawking at him.

He was probably no older than his mid twenties, making you wonder what he was doing in your university. He was too old to be a student, and too young to be a professor. But then again, you wouldn't judge him for joining college late.

Right?

"S-sorry, you um, you must be really late, you should go." He stuttered, your heart fluttering at his dimpled chin and thick accent. His eyes were gleaming in the morning sun, captivating in a way that left you in awe.

"Um yeah, I am." You nodded, composing yourself, hoping that you didn't look too sleep deprived or disheveled, "where are you going, if you don't mind me asking."

"Um, the architecture wing?" He said, unconsciously stepping besides you.

"Oh, I'm going that way. Is it your first time coming here? Haven't seen you around." You asked, trying not to stare at his sharp jawline and the way the morning sun hit him just right, illuminating and accentuating his curly brown hair.

"Yeah, it's my first lecture, so um, looks like I'm late too." He smiled. It was infectious, you noticed as you mirrored his expression.

"Oh, you're a student?"

"Actually, I'm a professor. Just transferred from UCL."

So you were right, he was a professor. He looks so young though. You thought, nodding at him, your thoughts interrupted by his laugh. Looking at him with confusion, you raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, everyone says that. I started right after finishing graduation so, I guess I'm not much older than you." He smiled, kicking the small pebbles littered around the set grassy ground. It had just rained, the smell of wet ground still fresh.

"I said that out loud didn't I?" You smirked, ducking your head to hide.

"You did."

Entering the building, you realised that you hadn't asked which subject he taught, crossing your fingers and hoping that he would replace the old bastard that taught you cultural architecture.

"I forgot to ask, which lecture do you teach?" You asked, looking for your class in the end. The hallways were empty, it was way past your first lecture and all the students were already in the auditorium.

"Oh, uh, British History." He answered. You didn't let disappointment show too much on your face, smiling shyly before gesturing towards the class, "that's you."

"Oh, um thank you." He smiled, pursing his thin lips together as he walked towards the class. You could hear screaming of the students as you both neared the classroom, you still standing by the door, "I didn't get your name."

His question snapped you out of your disappointed gaze,

"Oh, it's Y/n. Y/n L/n." You said with a smile.

"Pleasure to meet you Y/n, I'm Thomas Holland, but you can call me Tom." He said awkwardly, before turning back to his class, who had yet to notice him.

"The pleasure's all mine Professor."

For the first time in your college life, you didn't feel like tearing your hair off during your lecture, your thoughts wandering around. You wanted to berate yourself for not paying attention, but your thoughts kept going there.

It was funny, how you met him not long ago and he was already taking up residence in your brain. You could not control your feelings after all. Something akin to nausea or excitement eased into your stomach when you pictured his smile, his black turtleneck that accentuated his biceps and pectorals. The little rebellious eyebrow and the tiny scar above it.

It made your heart flutter, everything seemingly seemed to stop around you. It scared you a bit, how You had managed to envision the little details of his face in your brain after such a short duration.

You didn't realise that you were smiling until you felt a nudge on your side, making you nearly jump on your seat.

"What?!" You hissed, scowling at your classmate.

"Who're you thinking about?" She asked, wiggling her eyebrows as she leaned towards you. You had known her long enough to know her name but never bothered learning, and you were too scared to ask now.

"It's none of your business." You muttered, glancing up to see your professor scowling at a student as they stood up.

"Well okay, but did you hear about the hot new professor? Apparently he's teaching British History, I regret not taking that as a subject now." She said, her cheeks flushed with excitement. You furrowed your brows, feeling a pang in your chest at the realisation that you were probably just another girl with a stupid crush on the hot professor, that there were already girls who would die to feel his touch.

"How do you know about him?" You asked, raising an eyebrow as you try to act nonchalant. You weren't being subtle, apparently, because you could see her snapping her bubblegum with a smirk, leaning forward as if trading secrets.

"You kidding right? Everyone knows about him, you got a crush on him or something?" She suggested, scooting close enough to make you squirm.

"I literally just met him, and ew, he's a professor, why would I see him that way?" You whisper, willing your heart to stop palpitating at the thought of said professor, your gut twisting in anticipation.

"I don't know girl, he's hot and young and so much better than this bastard." She sighed, leaning on her palm with a fake dreamy expression.

You went back to ignoring her after that, noticing how her notebook said 'Eloise'. At least you didn't have to ask her her name now.

Your class went surprisingly well, or maybe it was because you weren't paying attention and thinking about him again. You really needed to get a grip on yourself.

Walking out of your class, you decided to go to the cafeteria, your stomach begging for your attention.

Setting your things on a table, you took out your phone to scroll through Instagram, before switching it off and looking around the cafeteria. You didn't know what you were expecting to see, but your stomach was gurgling with hunger and nothing made sense when you were hungry.

Walking to grab something to eat, you pick up your bag, hanging it over one of your shoulders before getting in the line.

Just as you were about to turn with your bun and cup of coffee, you crashed into someone for the second time that day. Cursing your clumsiness, you heard a familiar British accent curse not very colourful words, making you stumble over as you tried to wipe off the hot coffee off his shirt.

"Hey, it's okay." He said, stopping your frantic gestures by holding your wrist with his to cease any movements.

"Professor Holland! I'm so sorry, it's like, I'm just clumsy. I have no excuse." You sighed in resignation, mentally facepalming at spilling your coffee at the hot professor.

"It's okay darling, I've had much worse spilled on me." He smirked, his hand still holding on to yours. You had started walking away from the location, and yet his hand didn't let go, "You know, I used to babysit during my college days."

"Oh, babysitting, right of course." You chuckled awkwardly, chest heaving with the sudden close proximity with the professor, dissipating the not quite PG thought that just occurred in your mind at his words..

"Sorry for-" You said in unison with him, chuckling.

"You go first." He said.

"I'm sorry for spilling coffee on You, it must have hurt and I ruined your shirt and now there's a big splotch of coffee right in the middle!" You said, circling your fingers around your palm as you walked with your back to the exit as you walked out of the cafeteria, food forgotten and him following your pace.

Before you could continue your awkward blabber, you were standing in the garden outside, leaning against a pillar with the garden in your view looking golden in the setting sun. He was standing in your view, the shadows around his jaw making it look sharp enough to cut glass.

Taking a breath, you looked up at his smiling form with confusion when he didn't answer, instead leant onto the pillar next to you.

"You were... gonna say something?" You reminded, smiling awkwardly as you fiddled with your fingers.

"Oh? Oh! Oh yes yes, You know, I was kind of disappointed that you weren't in my class, Mister Wilson talks very highly of you." He said, folding his arms on his chest, it made his biceps bulge.

"He does?" You looked at him with surprise, guilt panging in your chest when you remembered yourself bad mouthing the professor not long ago.

"Yes, says you're a bright student with a bright future." He answered, leaning his head back so that his neck was exposed, Adam's Apple bobbing as he gulped, his hair falling into place perfectly against his forehead. The arch of his neck was beautiful, tracing it with your eyeballs as you imagined which other curves of his were as beautiful, immediately dismissing those thoughts, chastising yourself for thinking such a way of a professor.

"That's… sweet of him. I've never heard him compliment me once in the two and half years I've been in his class." You chuckle, leaning your elbow on the pillar to get a better look at his side profile.

"Hmm, he says he's hard on you because he wants you to do your best..."

You stopped listening past that, your breath growing more erratic the more he talked, his smooth voice washing over you like warm honey with a squeeze of lemon. Swallowing a sudden lump in your throat, your heart leaping, leaving you nauseous and in a dream like trance.

Tom noticed immediately, noticing your slouched posture as you stared at him with a small smile, the upturn of your lips so inviting that he almost dived in, wanting to know the feeling of them what they felt like against his.

He wasn't the kind to date his students, in fact, he rarely dated after joining uni and becoming a professor.

He strictly believed that student/teacher relationships should end in only a professional non romantic set up. That was all up until he crashed into you that morning.

You had been in his mind all day, stirring him crazy as he imagined your smile, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about your subject of interest, the say your fingers fiddled with the ring you wore on your index finger.

He wondered if this feeling would last forever or become a vague memory, an attraction of hearts that didn't last but felt good till it did. If he was rushing, or if you even felt the same way.

He was smart, of course that's how he became a teacher, but he still couldn't place your feelings.

So when he saw you staring at him, his heart leaping in his throat at your adorable smile, the only logical answer his brain gave was that you liked him too. Temporary attraction or not, he wasn't one to look a gift horse in it's mouth.

Next thing he knew your lips were crashing onto his, your chest pressed against his firmly as your hands reached up to the base of his neck.

Your fingers were soft, tongue swishing against his as he opened his mouth to let you enter. His hands automatically reach for your waist, holding onto firmly as he slammed you against the pillar.

The sun was nearly down, the last of the rays hitting the garden, lighting you both up in a golden glow that left you breathless with a fire raging in your souls.

"What do you say that I audit for British history? I'd like to learn more lessons from you, Professor Holland." You said, breathless against his chest, hiding your nose against his sternum, blood rushing to your ears as his warm hand burned against the bare skin underneath your shirt.

"That would be great darling, anything to see your pretty smile every morning."

A/N: let me know what you think! :)

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