#and then there's this whole kidnapping kids thing

[cambionkami]

Arcane Season 2 Spoilers you've been warned!

I love the team's attention to detail shown in Arcane. Especially this scene here:

Here we have Caitlyn. Her face shows her trying to be strong and push aside her grief to do "what needs to be done." Her back is straight, and her head is held high. She is aware of the horrors that Jinx can do. Back in season 1 episode 4, she was the sole survivor of one of Jinx's attacks on Piltover, then again at the end of season 1, she was kidnapped and watched the very attack that killed her mother.

Caitlyn is aware of her role and the power she's both been given and earned, making her believe she is responsible for taking out Jinx. This is reinforced by her saying to her father in the first episode of season 2 "I had the shot". She holds onto that grief of knowing she was in the position to prevent what Jinx did, maybe if she had taken the shot her mother would've survived. Leading her to take charge and create a strike force to assassinate Jinx, both in duty to the people who died due to the many attacks and revenge for her mother.

Then you have Vi, who follows behind Caitlyn, to show both support for her and her actions. She wears the enforcer uniform and the gauntlets and is standing side by side with other enforcers to take down the threat. But her body language speaks the opposite, her eyes are adverted and darting downward, frowning with a slouch, the whole time she's shown here her head is down. Sure she feels awful for what Caitlyn's been through but is also facing the responsibility of what her sister, Jinx, has become.

Vi carries the weight of her sister's actions and believes it is her responsibility to stop Jinx from hurting anyone else, she's seen the damage her sister can do firsthand and is fully aware that it can get worse if no action is taken. Sure, she doesn't want to kill or bring harm to her sister, nobody does, she spent all of season 1 tracking her sister down to be with her family again. Up until meeting Caitlyn, Vi has been all alone, without her family, her parents are dead, her adoptive family is dead, and her sister is still out there.

These two characters are the two faces of the same coin. They've both lost family and stability in their lives and feel the responsibility of correcting the terrors Jinx has caused is theirs to face and neutralize. But a lot of their direction in how to go about dealing with the issue are the same thing these characters accuse Jinx of being.

Vi clings to hope, hope that Powder is still inside of Jinx, any reasoning to see her sister as the way she remembers her being. A mindset that is slowly breaking her as she witnesses the horrors "Powder" is unleashing on the innocent, affecting men, women and children alike. She wants to cling to the idea of her sister being there, but she slowly starts echoing the people around her. Ekko mentions how Powder is no longer there, how she "changed", this is also reinforced by Jinx herself, "Powder fell down a well".

Vi is adjusting to these new changes, learning about Jinx alongside with the audience. Her face, voice and body language are soft when she addresses her sister when she views her as "Powder". She wants to view her sister as what they were long ago, two kids, sisters, and family. Vi struggles with seeing the anger that is Jinx bubbling to the surface in her sister and when it comes to the confrontation in Season 2 Episode 3, she is fully aware she is unable to do the job of killing her sister. Looking for someone else to do the job for her or any excuse to avoid the task.

We see in the same episode that she turns her back to allow Caitlyn to take the shot for her, apologising as she closes her eyes. She knows there's no undo button for what Jinx has done and knows the only resolution to the battle is her sister's head. There is no more reasoning, no more bargaining, and no more begging, what's done is done. Vi is in complete turmoil over her sister knowing that even though she's just gotten her back that she will soon have to say goodbye to her.

So we jump to later that same conflict, she's pinned down Jinx, and vi has won in securing the threat to neutralize for the greater good. But when Isha runs up, with a gun in hand, blocking Vi from stopping Jinx, she freezes in place. There is nothing really stopping Vi from disarming Isha and/or removing Isha from Jinx to secure a better shot. Even extending this excuse to Caitlyn, jumping in front of the shot to interfere with the 'shot'.

Vi grew up being the role model for her 3 younger siblings, a major influence in guiding people down the correct or incorrect path. She grew up with people following her lead and is now blocking Caitlyn from completing their mission. Vi only wants to help Caitlyn do what's right but also wants to protect what's left of her remaining family unintentionally.

Sounds a little familiar, doesn't it?

Caitlyn on the other hand is in complete turmoil over the grief of her mother's death, knowing she could've prevented it had she gone down and taken a different path. She grows distant and isolated in her grief as if disconnecting from her reality to best hide the pain she is suffering from as we see in season 2 episode 1. In season 1, she echoes a similar belief that her mother held, "the people of the underground deserve to breathe", this line can be taken both literally and metaphorically for the story and its symbolism. But with the death of her mother, this idea also dies in Caitlyn, voicing her views on them as "animals" with a bite to her words. In the very scene she says this, she bares her teeth, much like an animal would. Voicing her growing rage.

She believes she's at fault, and with the fact that she had the shot back at the end of season 1, she could've ended the madness Jinx unleashes. This drives Caitlyn through her grief in an attempt to 'fix' what has been broken and correct the wrongs that have been brought into her world. She knows Jinx will only take more lives if her abuse is left unchecked, many men, women and children count on Caitlyn to take the next shot as quickly and swiftly as possible. This leads to her conflict with Vi and Isha in episode 3.

She wants to take the shot, to neutralize Jinx, to secure the threat and eliminate it for good. In her mind, it would prevent any more terrors and stop the growing threat of war.

When Isha jumps onto Jinx and holds her close, Caitlyn attempts to take the shot, she is narrowed in on securing the death of Jinx, and she doesn't care that there might be the risk of hitting Isha or Vi. After all, the death of a few here in this fight might prevent the deaths of thousands. She wants to protect what's left of her family and destroy everything that is Jinx.

When Caitlyn is unsuccessful in assassinating Jinx yet again, it explains easier why Ambessa was easily able to single out and recruit Cait to lead in Marshal Law over Piltover and ride into Zaun to the drums of war. Caitlyn needs Jinx dead, she will not stop unless something breaks her current driving force, which is grief. She wants peace after all, which is what will aid her in justifying her actions and doing what she believes is the right thing to do.

Caitlyn is becoming the very threat she accuses the Zaunites and Jinx of being, as in war there will always be the innocent that are caught in the cross fire.

[lottielovelace]

công chúa

(ghost x könig's-sister!reader)

summary: You're just a student trying to make through med school with your sanity intact. That last thing you needed was to be kidnapped to serve as a hostage for a half-brother you've never met.

At least the special forces operative here to help is cute.

originally posted on ao3 (wordcount: 3.8k)

Rating: T

Relationships: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader, Kate Laswell x her wife (I call her Jean), König & Reader <- PLATONIC

Ao3 Tags: meet cute! in a prison camp / First Meetings / tries to follow canon characterization / less so canon events/timeline / so some things (like the villains) are VERY vague / Past Suicide Attempt / Undercover Simon "Ghost" Riley / Unmasked Simon "Ghost" Riley / (Temporarily) / reader has a name & backstory but I tried to make it unobtrusive

this is a part of a series

Author's note: I do write this story with a specific OC (check the series masterpost if you want a full breakdown of her) in mind just so characterization is consistent, but I tried to make it possible for you to replace her with whoever you imagine. I do have to explicitly mention details unique to the OC (most obvious example here being her ethnicity), but for the most part I'll try to keep things open ended (ex: using "your hair" instead of "your dark hair").

Also, as I mentioned, the OC's ethnicity (half-Vietnamese) is pretty plot relevant this chapter, but if that disrupts your reading flow, feel free to mentally replace it with whatever makes sense for your own personal read-through. I'm not used to writing in second person, so the verb tenses are kinda screwy.

Also this is in the tags but TW: DISCUSSION OF A PAST SUICIDE ATTEMPT (character has for the most part fully recovered)

công chúa:

People could be so fucking stupid sometimes. Bold and stupid. Newbies especially. New recruits—or in this case, new criminal organizations—always think they’ll be special. The exception to the rule.

Take for example, this new group who had the bloody brilliant idea of trying to control special forces (and a handful of top PMCs) by kidnapping anyone ransom-worthy they could get their grubby little hands on. Which meant a lot of missing parents, kid siblings, and SOs.

Ghost couldn’t tell if they actually thought that would work or if this was just some distraction. Perhaps an intimidation ploy or a small part of some greater plan. Either way, in reality, all they ended up with was a whole bunch of pissed-off—and very well trained—soldiers, many of whom were willing to do anything to get their loved ones back. Even allying with their greatest rivals. Ghost didn’t predict to end up working with KorTac of all bedfellows, but even their lads weren’t safe. 

In the past month, he'd had to bear witness to his comrades and competitors getting wrecked, worried sick over their nearest and dearest. Laswell might’ve single-handedly revived the tobacco industry and he’d never seen Johnny so torn up.

Ghost himself had been spared any grief. He would’ve liked to pretend that it was because his mask had protected his identity so well, but the reality was much simpler and bleaker. He had nobody to take. Tommy and Joseph and Beth and Mum were all already six feet under. Nothing would ever change that.

That being said, the mask wasn’t useless.

The hostagers had done extensive research into all their personal lives. They needed to in order to find out who they could kidnap and how. They had become intimately familiar with every combatant their cobbled alliance could send—with one glaring exception.

They certainly knew about Ghost, but not even they knew Ghost’s face—at least according to the dossier smuggled to the Task Force.

After that was discovered, going undercover was less of a choice and more of a duty.

----------

“Jean?”

The woman’s head jerked up at the whispered sound of her name. Finding no one in front of her, she swiveled. Her eyes landed on an idle balaclava-ed guard.

“Don’t look at me,” the guard commanded. He followed his own advice, keeping his gaze trained on the horizon. His voice was low and rough. Familiar.

Jean Laswell hazarded one last glance at him. She squinted, trying to place where she'd seen him before.

A stifled gasp rang out as her eyes widened in recognition.

“Ghost?”

“Keep your voice down, I’m undercover.”

Jean tried to keep her body language innocuous, eyes now glued to her own clasped hands. The last thing she wanted was to blow Ghost's cover.

“It’s good to see your face— or er, hear your voice.” Pleasantries aside, she went straight to the first question on her mind, the one that had plagued her sleepless nights. “How’s Kate?”

"Smoking like a chimney, but otherwise holding up. She misses you."

"Are you here to…"

"Not yet. KorTac and the team are planning a mutual offensive, but we need more intel before exfil becomes viable. Intel I was tasked with collecting."

His tone didn't reassure her.

"But…"

"I ran into a little roadblock. I was supposed to receive, memorize, and orally deliver crucial information about the compound’s layout and security flaws. We’d had some limited online communication with our informant, but couldn’t get anything sensitive past the security systems. So I volunteered to get it directly. Unfortunately, we didn’t know that our informant only speaks Vietnamese, Cantonese, and some very broken Russian. The dictionary he’d been previously using isn’t complex enough for the level of detail we need. Our shared Russian skills aren’t much better. I can’t leave until I have the intel memorized and I can’t memorize it until we find a translator."

"Could you leave and come back with a translator? A digital one maybe if you can't get anyone else past the guards?"

Ghost shook his head, “They know that we're trying to infiltrate them. They’re very strict about what technology gets in and out. Besides, my cover is only so good. I should be able to get a believable excuse to leave camp, but the scrutiny required for re-entry would compromise it.”

Jean pursed her lips in thought, running over the possibilities. She paused, half thinking out loud.

“I think the princess speaks Vietnamese.”

“Princess?” Ghost’s eyes widened beneath his mask. Shit, no one told him they'd taken someone so high profile. That significantly complicated security procedure. “I thought all their targets were lowkey.”

“No, no, she’s not royalty. She’s a med student. It’s just a nickname,” Jean hastily corrected with an embarrassed laugh. “We have a lot of those here. We get kinda bored.”

Ghost silently thought back on his own POW experiences.

“Things could be a whole lot worse than boredom.”

“The perks of being a hostage," Jean responded dryly. "Need us in one piece.”

“So where’s this ‘princess’ of yours?”

“There,” Jean pointed at the upper level of the compound's eastern turret. “You can see where the nickname comes from. She’s in solitary, but she has a window that we talk to her through during yard time.”

“What'd she do?” Unless the hostage takers were worse than he thought, they wouldn’t put someone in solitary for shits and giggles.

“She’s… a special case."

“Who’s she tied to?”

“That’s the thing. We don’t know. Not even she knows.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I know I’m here because of Kate. Ritchie’s here because of his uncle. Troy because of his brother. Eileen… could be her nephew, but it’s probably Soap. But Elise—that’s her name, Elise Veidt. Do you know any Veidts in Special Forces or KorTac?”

“Not to my knowledge, no. Could it be her boyfriend?”

Jean shook her head, “No. The common theory is an uncle or half sibling. Both her parents were civilians, but her father had family and an ex-wife on the other side of the Atlantic. She has no idea where they are now or if they’re even still alive, but it seems the most likely—if not the only—possibility. Plus she was single when she was discovered.”

Ghost's brow furrowed.

“Discovered? What do you mean by that?”

“There was… an incident. It ended with her being taken into custody.”

Ghost wanted to press for more detail, but Jean flashed him a look that stopped him in his tracks. She was married to Laswell, and that doesn't happen without being able to hold her own in an argument.

“It’s not my story to tell." Her tone was measured, but Ghost could tell this was non-negotiable to her. “She’s a good kid. Just got in a bit of a rough patch. Along the way she had her blood tested and it must’ve pinged… something. Next thing she knows, she’s getting transferred. They refuse to tell her where. When she resists, she gets knocked out and wakes up here.”

“That still doesn’t explain the isolation.”

“We think that whoever she’s related to, it must be someone important. Or someone very dangerous. Someone they’re scared to anger.”

“Then why did they kidnap her if they’re so bloody afraid of pissing the bugger off?”

“Taking her was probably a calculated risk. Returning her damaged a death sentence. They wanted to make sure she doesn’t get hurt, either by her own hand or someone else’s.”

----------

Ghost cautiously approached the cell door. According to the directory, this was “Detainee #934287: VEIDT, Elisabeth.” He peered through the grate, careful not to get too close to the opening—he knew firsthand how solitary confinement could warp the mind and liked having both his eyes intact.

From what he could see, the cell had a tiny cot, stripped of its sheets on the left. On the right was a wash basin and bucket. In between was a small window—just large enough to stick your face out of. It wasn’t the worst cell Ghost had seen, but it wasn’t homey either. It also appeared to be empty.

“What the—” he muttered under his breath.

The low rumble of his voice almost made you jump from your position, sitting leaned against the door. The window was your only connection to the outside world, but it also made your cell freezing so you tried to stay as far away from it as possible when there was no one outside to talk to. You paused, confused then intrigued. You didn’t think they had a British guard. Slowly, you got up.

He was closer than you assumed. Right up against the door, you almost had to suppress the urge to jump again. You silently mourned the fact that such a pretty pair of eyes were wasted on some terrorist dipshit.

Still, you were bored enough that anything seemed intriguing.

“You’re new.”

“You’re Elise, right?”

Your lips quirked with all the cockiness of someone who knew they couldn’t be touched.

“Shouldn’t they have already debriefed you on that?”

“The only person who’s briefed me on you was Jean.”

Your eyes narrowed. You may have only been able to communicate through a tiny window, but you trusted Jean. You knew her. She wouldn't rat on you, not without a fight.

“What did you do to her?”

“Nothing,” his voice grew even gentler. Soft in a way that commanded you to hang on every word. “I’m here to help.”

Attractive voice and eyelashes aside, you were still unimpressed.

“Really?”

“I'm on a reconnaissance mission for Special Forces. I was supposed to memorize this file. I wasn’t told it was going in Vietnamese.”

You perked up at this. Finally, things were making a little sense.

“I speak Vietnamese.”

“So I’ve heard.”

You took one last look at him, trying to figure out if this was a trick or some sick game. Then again, if it was, what would they even do? Your captors didn’t seem allowed to punish you physically, and mentally there wasn’t much more they could do. Fuck it, you had nothing to lose.

You reached out your hand, “Gimme.”

He slipped you a folded up piece of paper. You unfolded it to reveal an annotated set of blueprints.

“Pen or pencil?” For all you know, he could be picky about that sort of stuff.

The man stood up to dig for something in his vest. You quietly realized that he’d been bending down to look you in the eye. This man, whoever he was, was tall.

He passed you a pen. You noticed that while his hands were gloved, a whisper of a tattoo peeked out as his sleeve rode up. It looked like it could be the bottom of a skull. Or a very small picket fence. Probably the former.

You figured he'd turn away and leave you to your work, but he doesn’t.

“Are you going to…”

“No,” he responded firmly. “If either of us get caught, at least two of us are screwed. I know I can get myself out of it, but our informant can’t. I won’t have his blood on your or my hands. So I’m going to keep watch.”

It’s slightly awkward with him just standing there, but you did your best to lay the blueprint flat against the wall and start scribbling away. Still, you couldn't help but let your eyes flit to him, now with his back to you, standing guard.

“Where are you from?”

“Hmm?”

“Your accent, where’s it from?”

“Shouldn’t you be focusing on your work?”

“I could do this with both hands tied behind my back."

He made a doubtful noise.

You let a cheeky smile grace your lips, “Pen in my mouth, paper on the floor. Handwriting might be chicken scratch, but it’d still be legible.”

If you could see his face, you would’ve noticed his eyebrows raise as he tried to picture it. You on your knees, leaned forward with your ass in the air, hands bound, tongue twisted around the p—

“So, the accent? Where?”

“That’s classified.”

You tilted your head in thought, “It’s Northern, right? British, not Scottish. You don’t sound like Eileen.”

He bristled, quiet in a way that tells you you’re on the money.

“Look, how about this. For every question you answer truthfully, I’ll do the same. I won’t ask you anything I know you can’t tell me, not even your name. I just... wouldn’t mind a little conversation. They’re kinda in short supply here.”

A beat passed.

“Manchester.”

“I knew it!”

He made another noise. You think it was a laugh. You think it sounds beautiful.

“My turn. How do you know Vietnamese?”

“My mother. She immigrated from the South when she was young. Judging from some of his vocabulary, I’d guess your informant is from the North, but the dialects aren’t all that different, especially in script. What food do you miss the most?”

“Anything that isn’t an ORP.”

“An ORP?”

“Operational ration pack.”

If your hands were free, you would’ve crossed them.

“That’s a cop out.”

“Fine,” he relented. “I could go for a Nando’s takeaway.”

“What sort of food is that?”

“Chicken. Flame grilled with this Peri-Peri sauce and—”

He groaned. It’s a noise you want to hear again.

Mimicked him in commiseration. The plates the guards slid through your food slot were pitiful, to say the least.

He starts to ask you something but seems to stop himself.

“What?” you asked.

“It’s… I shouldn’t.”

You were many things, but you weren't a coward.

“I can always choose not to answer. Hit me.”

His voice was still hesitant as he asked, “What did you get arrested for?”

You were worried that the question would be gross or embarrassing, not utterly nonsensical.

“Arrested?”

“Jean said they found you because you were taken into custody.”

“Oh,” your cheeks flushed. “It wasn’t that type of custody. I was 5150-ed. Or more accurately 5250-ed.”

“Pardon?”

“I tried to kill myself. I failed.”

The man froze. He turned around, trying to get a glimpse of you—and any wounds—through the grate.

“Do you need medical attention?”

“No,” you reassured. “I stole some valium and then drank myself silly. I was found in time and they got me help before any irrevocable damage happened. If they hadn’t spotted the note they would’ve just written me off as some foolish party animal, pumped my stomach, and let me be on my merry way.”

You haphazardly glanced at him, expecting him to be stone cold. A proper soldier. To your surprise his eyes, those stupidly beautiful eyes, are trained on you with more care than you've seen in the last three months combined.

“Were you a user… before?”

You shake your head but your eyes remain locked. You couldn't bear to break contact.

“No. Too busy with school. But then my mom died and suddenly everything was… too much. Going to med school and becoming a doctor was what she wanted. The loans, the sleepless nights, the blood, sweat, and tears. It was all for her. Not me. I wanted to make her proud. Happy. And now that will never happen. Without her, I didn’t really see the point of continuing to put myself through hell. I tried to drop out, but the program wouldn’t let me. So I figured might as well cut out all stress in my life instead.”

“Are you planning to try again?”

“No,” the answer is honest. “I’m not giving these bastards the satisfaction. Plus I need to find whoever put me in this situation in the first place and give them a piece of my mind.” You turned back to the blueprints, gently trying to shift the tone back to the comfortable rapport you had earlier. You missed it and you need him to stop looking at you like that or you might do something stupid. “That was like three extra questions. It's my turn now. Any hobbies?”

“Hobbies?”

The very word sounded foreign on his tongue.

“You know. Do you have a secret passion for knitting or something?”

“Embroidery, actually. And that’s no secret.”

“So, anything you do outside of… espionage or whatever your job is?”

“I dunno. Football. Tattoos.”

“Giving or receiving?”

“The latter, though I have been curious to learn it.”

“Got a steady hand?”

He smiled, thinking about something you know he won’t tell you.

“You could say that.”

“Anything else?”

He paused for a moment. You can tell there’s something on his mind. He just hasn’t resolved whether you’re worth it to tell to.

“There’s a bare knuckle boxing club I like to go to when I’m on leave.”

You haven’t seen him in combat, but there’s something in the coiled posture of his stance that tells you he knows how to handle himself.

“I bet you kick their asses."

He says nothing, but you swear he almost preens.

"Could you teach me?"

His lips quirked.

"How serious are you being?"

"Pretty decently. They got me this time. I won't let that happen again. Not without a fight."

"If you're ever in Town, visit Stuart’s and ask for Simon. Might be able to give you a few pointers."

You look up at him, grinning.

"Simon, eh?"

He smiled. His gaze was still intense, but its stifling mixture of pity and worry was replaced by something warmer that made your chest flutter.

"Can't promise I'll be there, but the lady at the desk should be able to tell you when I'll be back."

You folded the blueprints, neatly passing them through the cell bars.

"Well, Simon. Here's your translation. Give them hell."

----------

Chaos. Complete and other chaos.

Smoke and bombs and bullets. You agonized over whether or not to look out the window. The unknown of what was happening was almost scarier than the reality. In the few furtive glances you spared, you caught the bodies. So many bodies. The only relief was that all of the dead seemed to be guards.

You thought back on Simon, dressed in the guard’s garb. These are probably his people. He must’ve gotten out and they must’ve gotten the intel. By now he’s probably on his next recon mission. You were able to learn a little about military structure from what the other hostages told you about their families. If his specialty was infiltration they probably weren't going to waste him on a direct assault like this.

Manchester. Stuart's. Simon.

You didn't need to see him before then. You just needed him to stay alive, wherever he was.

The cacophony slowly grew closer. You didn't know whether that was a good or bad thing.

A loud buzz rang out as the power grid malfunctioned and the hallway outside your cell was plunged into darkness.

Something was happening and all you could do was sit back and listen.

There were screams. Some seemed to be of pure joy, others of painful death. Many you couldn’t tell apart.

There were gunshots. Often followed by gurgles and the sickening sound of someone falling to the ground. There were footsteps. Heavy ones. Slowly drawing nearer.

Someone jostled the cell door. You froze, holding your breath. Maybe they wouldn't even notice you.

The darkness outside your cell moved. A single blue eye peered through the grate, surrounded by black.

"Stay back," the eye commanded. You were all too happy to oblige him.

There was a quick bang and the cell door swung open, revealing a man. A large man.

He bent down to enter the cell before standing up to his full height. Clad in black with a mask you'd expect on a cartoon executioner, he unfolded like an eldritch piece of origami. He just seemed to keep on going.

“Are you Elisabeth?” Hearing it again, you realized his voice was accented. Up close, his demeanor transformed. He seemed... nervous. Incredibly so, barely even able to get the words out.

“Yes,” your voice is almost as hesitant as his.

“I— I am— Ah—” his feet shuffled about anxiously. Any bravado he had from battle has melted away, leaving him almost curled against the wall. You catch sight of a patch on his left side. Red. White. Red. The Austrian flag.

“Sprechen Sie Deutsch?” ( Do you speak German? ) you asked. Maybe talking would be easier in his native language.

The man perked up, surprised but excited.

“Ja! Du auch?” ( Yes! Do you? )

You nod, “Mein Vater war Österreicher.” ( My father was Austrian. )

You knew this was a possibility. Even with the covered face and the giant height difference. Still, his next words caught you off guard.

“Ich weiß. Ich bin dein Halbbruder.” ( I know, I’m your half-brother. )

----------

The tall man, your brother, escorts you out. He promises to tell you everything and more once you’re away from this wretched place wo die Wände haben Ohren ( where the walls have ears ).

After being cooped up for so long, your legs protest the walk, but you pushed through. You were a free woman and you would never take that for granted again.

The exhaustion was worth it to step into the daylight with your own two feet.

Once your eyes adjusted, you realized that two portable camps had been set up on the perimeter. As predicted, there was no sign of Simon. You did see a couple familiar faces though, along with a plethora of heavily-armed strangers (including a man wearing a skeleton mask of all things!). Eileen was deep in conversation with a mohawk-ed man, but she threw you a warm smile as she spotted you heading to the other wolf-emblemed camp.

"Are you alright?" a voice called out at you. It was British: Northern, but rougher and gruffer than Simon's had ever been. Still, you allowed yourself to revel in the fantasy for a moment before you had to face the speaker and ruin the illusion.

You didn't know who you were expecting when you turned around, but it certainly wasn't the skull-masked man.

Up close he was even more striking. You could just barely make out his shaded eyes, alone in a void of black and white. He was shorter than your brother, but still tall by any measure. Even at that size he managed to sneak up on you two.

Your heart was racing. You didn't know why.

"Ye—yes," you managed to stammer out.

Your brother noticed your distress. It seems to give him a confidence to act that he couldn't summon for himself.

He wrapped a protective arm around you and began to lead you away.

“She’s with KorTac,” he said, like that explained everything.

During your confinement, you had plenty of time to think about what you would say to whoever got you into this mess by joining the military. You had dreams of really digging in and tearing them a new one. All of those dreams flew out the window now.

It wasn’t like you couldn’t or were afraid to antagonize someone as big as your brother. But, seeing him… you didn’t want to do that, or anything that could hurt him.

You wanted to talk to him. To get to know him. To—silly as it was—protect him.

After all, he was about the only family you had left.

[fear-is-truth]

⋆𐙚 ₊ pregnancy announcement .ᐟ

requested by anon

ft. kit walker ‧ kyle spencer ‧ kai anderson ‧ rory monahan ‧ peter maximoff ‧ colin zabel

⟢ 𝐊𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑.

kit would be stunned at first, eyes widening as he processes the news. but a slow smile would spread across his face as he takes it in. a soft joy would fill his expression as he realises he’s about to become a father, and he’d pull you into a big hug.

his protective side would instantly surface. as someone who would do anything to keep his loved ones safe, he’d be extra cautious about your well-being. “tell me if you need anything, alright?” he’d want to make sure you’re comfy and taken care of, going out of his way to handle things so you can rest.

he’d worry about whether he can be a good father. he’d confide in you, saying, “i just hope i can be the dad this little one deserves.” he’d want to do everything right, maybe even overthinking small details about parenting, but he’d be earnest in his desire to give your child a better life.

would immediately start making plans for the future, thinking about practical things like finding a safe place to live, budgeting, and making sure there’s enough space for your growing family. he’d sit down with you to talk about these things, wanting to be responsible and prepare as much as possible.

works extra shifts to earn more money.

he’d become even more attentive, watching out for anything you might need, even if it’s something small. kit would check in on you constantly, asking if you’re okay, if you need anything. insisting on doing things for you, like cooking (or attempting to), lifting things, or making sure you’re relaxed.

hope you don’t get kidnapped by aliens lol

⟢ pre death .ᐟ 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑.

completely bewildered, his eyes widening and his jaw dropping slightly. he’d never expect something like this, not now, not while he’s still in college.

nervously laugh, thinking maybe it’s a joke (even though he knew you wouldn’t joke about things like this) . “wait… seriously?”

once he’s wrapped his head around the news, he’d immediately ask, “are you okay? how do you feel?” wanting to make sure you’re not scared or upset.

the second question he’s ask is whether you’d want to keep the baby. he’d respect your decision no matter what. it’s your body, after all.

kyle is a smart and super responsible guy, he’d begin overthinking everything. “oh my god, we need to figure everything out—where are we gonna live? i don’t even have a real job yet!” his mind would fill with thoughts of money, school, and what your parents would say.

he’d want to start planning for the future, but he’d be panicked about how little time you both might have. he’d talk about finishing school quickly, getting a job, saving up, and trying to secure a better living situation.

you’d probably hear him start cracking dad jokes way too soon.

would randomly ask, “do you think the baby will have your eyes?” or “do you think they’ll like sports?” he’d start imagining what kind of person your child will be, picturing what it’ll be like to raise them together, and getting really invested in the idea of being a dad.

⟢ 𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐍.

his excitement would be matched by a fierce desire to shield you and the baby from public attention. “we don’t need the whole world in our business,” he’d say, giving you a serious look as he assures you he’ll do everything he can to keep the news private.

though he’s usually very open and upbeat on social media, rory would hold back from posting anything about the pregnancy until he feels it’s the right time. he’d cherish these early moments in private, making sure you’re protected from the stress of the spotlight. if he’s asked by friends or fans, he’d stay low-key, not wanting to give anything away until you both feel ready to share the news.

the two of you would joke and laugh about all the outlandish hollywood baby names out there, making ridiculous suggestions “can you imagine if we named the kid ‘rayleigh moonbeam monahan’?”

when you two finally announce the pregnancy, he’d choose a special photo—you glowing and visibly pregnant or a snapshot of the ultrasound. the caption would be heartfelt like , “just when i thought life couldn’t get any better with you, y/n… along comes our little one to prove me wrong. feeling so grateful, blessed, and ready for this next chapter together. ❤️”

would be adamant about protecting the baby’s identity, using stickers or taking photos from behind to shield your child’s face. he wants them to have a real childhood, not just be “rory monahan’s kid.”

⟢ cult leader .ᐟ 𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.

the moment you tell him you’re pregnant, kai’s eyes would light up with an almost crazed joy. he’d instantly see this as the fulfillment of his vision, his grand plan for creating a “messiah baby.”

would immediately assume control over the entire situation. he’d tell you that everything will now revolve around the pregnancy and what this child represents.

would obsess over every detail related to the pregnancy. he’d dictate what you eat, how you exercise, and even what kind of prenatal care you receive, believing that this child must be raised under perfect conditions.

he’d talk about how this child will be the first to be raised in his image, with his values and beliefs. “i’ll teach them everything they need to know. they’ll be stronger, smarter, better than anyone else,” he’d promise. he’d start planning out the child’s entire life before they’re even born, from their education to their role in the movement. (wow. poor kid lol)

despite being an asshole, kai would show an intense devotion to you during the pregnancy. you’re the mother of the messiah, after all. he’d shower you with praise and attention, possibly even becoming more affectionate. say things like, “you’re perfect. you’re giving me the greatest gift anyone could ever give.”

there would be moments where kai’s obsession give way to genuine tenderness. he’d touch your bump with awe, whispering, “i can’t believe it… we’re creating something amazing.” there’d be an almost childlike wonder in his eyes at times, as he’s totally in awe of the life growing inside you.

would be super gentle during sex and even go down on you when you’re horny :)

⟢ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐙𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋.

when you tell colin you’re pregnant, he’d froze, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide in absolute disbelief. his expression slowly shifting from shock to wonder. completely lost for words, standing there and struggling to find a response, yet somehow still managing to look at you with pure awe.

then, without warning, he’d swept you up into his arms. “are you serious? we’re going to be parents?” his voice shaking slightly as the reality settled in. then the two of you would kiss deeply, colin holding you close as he tries to pour all his excitement, gratitude, and love into that one kiss.

starts reading up on everything he can about pregnancy, making sure he’s prepared for every step.

he’d sit you down with a notebook and start talking about houses, school districts, and daycare options.

whatever your craving—whether it’s pickles, ice cream, or some random weird food—you can count on him to show up with it, no matter the hour. “got your favourite, plus a backup in case you change your mind,” (colin zabel the man that you are)

would get so invested in learning about babies that you’d find him falling asleep with baby books and parenting guides in his lap. he’d read up on everything from swaddling techniques to tips on managing sleep schedules, wanting to be as prepared as possible.

meticulous about getting everything ready for the baby, safety-proofing the house, researching baby essentials etc. when you start picking out strollers, cribs, and bottles, colin would obsess over quality and safety ratings.

be prepared for dad jokes.

⟢ 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐅𝐅.

when you first tell him, he’d literally freeze. *peter.exe has stopped working*. “whoa… wait… a baby? like a real tiny person?” he’d feel overwhelmed, knowing he’s on the verge of a huge life change and trying to wrap his head around what it means to be responsible for another human being.

always ready to run off and get whatever weird snacks you’re in the mood for.

would totally go overboard in the baby shopping department, especially toys and gadgets. he’d bring home all sorts of things that seem way too advanced, like gaming consoles and motorized toys, “look, our kid’s gonna be a tech whiz,” he’d say, holding up the PS5 he bought.

he’d immediately start practicing his dad jokes. “did you hear about the cheese factory explosion? there was de-brie everywhere!”

peter would be driven by a deep desire to be the kind of father he always wished for himself. quiet moments of reflection, probably late at night, thinking about all the ways he can be there for your child. “i’m gonna make sure our kid knows they’re loved every day.” he’d tell you. it’d become a goal he’d never stop working toward, fueled by his love for you and the family you’re about to start together.

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[uwuyangeppie]

This is gonna be so random but like imagine gepard kidnapping you right and going on his whole speech and whatever just for reader to look him dead in his face and say “Well that ruins my plans” because they were planning on kidnapping HIM and doing the same to him😭 basically stalker x obsessed!reader

LMAOOOO,,, aww look at the cute little couple!! they’re both incredibly mentally ill and need to be locked up. therapy can’t save them.

this piece mentions pregnancy, so if you happen to have a male body type, just chalk it up to mpreg lmfao

if ruan mei can make those cute little cake cat things that speak, gepard landau can impregnate anyone he chooses.

anyway, let’s give gepard a controlled shock!

you decide that it’s best to be nice. after all, he is the captain of the guards, and you have been doing some fairly illegal things. if you’re aggressive, he might choose to investigate further.

cause sure, you’re tied up, but it’s not like there’s any other guards around. this could just be a test.

“-and your rat bastard employer who’s always looking at you in such a disgusting way, but of course i don’t have any proof, i just notice things, and no proof won’t get him any jail time and killing him, well- and- and anyway, this is all for your own good, okay? and mine! i’m stopping crime before it happens, so really, this is actually a crime prevention tactic, and not a kidnapping. i know that’s what it looks like. but it’s not. it’s not a kidnapping. it’s crime prevention.”

ahhh…

oh, wait. ugh.

“well, that ruins my plans.”

gepard blinks at you. “what?”

you bat your eyes at him. “are you sure you want to kidnap me?”

“it’s not a kidnapping-”

“you have to worry about food and water and stuff and you already have so much on your plate! just come live at my house forever and ever and ever~ i’ll feed you everything! anything you want! it’ll be a holiday you won’t need to put in leave for! sure, i won’t let you out of the house or anything, but you don’t need that! you can just stay with me! forever! i promise i won’t use the handcuffs i got my hands on- haha- the other day! we can snuggle together in my bed and i can be the little spoon and eventually… maybe… continue the family line…?”

gepard is looking at you, completely stunned.

interesting. cute!

you did mean everything you said, though.

he opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it.

“i think i’d look soooooo cute carrying your kids, don’t you?!”

the captain looks like he wants to say something, but doesn’t know how to. eventually, though, he breaks past his confusion-

“um, maybe i should reevaluate who i develop feelings for. self-reflect, and all.”

and with that, he leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

[u5an5]

Other than causing suicide by M.A.D., how exactly do you think Alternates themselves kill their victims? Like, my main headcanon is that they cause cardiac arrest due to stress/fear, eventually bleeding from every orifice in body or both, but what else could they do?

[gilbirda]

More than Jazz as a psychiatric I see her as a Social Worker that focuses on Children and Family.

Leaving the plot aside, Jazz may have had the CPS visit her home (or never) and saw how the system failed her and her brother, who ended dead.

She could still study psychology and focus to get a degree in children welfare (or whatever is called) to help children out of abusive/neglectful families.

And then I introduce you "social worker Jazz Fenton Nightingale meet crime lord/children defender red hood"

You are SO RIGHT and actually I had an idea like that written down.... somewhere.

Basically social worker Jazz tries to fix the system from the inside etc etc etc and becomes trusted contact for Red Hood to properly relocate the kids and help them recover.

Everyone knows about Ms. Fenton. That Hood approves of her, that she will always have warm food and a blanket, no questions asked.

And that she would fist fight anyone if they try anything funny with the kids under her protection.

Even Batman.

[golyadkin]

Long road to Colorado

[askblueandviolet]

Do you think you be Mayor could’ve been better friends (orsomethingmore) under different circumstances?

MASTER POST

Asks Start 💜🩷

Previous 💜🩷

Next 💜🩷

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

There are a couple of lines in Psychonauts 2 that I think about quite a bit. I’m pretty sure these have already been done but if NOT, then. Uh. Spoilers for Psychonauts 2 I guess?

First off- one of Sam’s lines. There’s actually a lot about Sam that I think could have been put to better use—specifically a conversation about how psychic powers aren’t always controllable, giving parallels between Compton, Dogan, and Maligula and MAYBE Raz. But the line I SPECIFICALLY think about is a joke one.

“And if you use enough syrup, you can’t taste the difference between chicken and snake. Eggs is eggs!”

In Psychonauts, eggs are used as a metaphor for brains. Like, this isn’t some vague thing, it’s extremely front and center. Eggs and brains are directly linked. And, it should be noted, that Sam actually puts an entire nest—INCLUDING BIRD EGGS—in the, uh…. ‘Pancake mix’.

So, snakes and chickens and syrup, right? Chickens, generally used to describe someone who is cowardly or otherwise not the type to actually do anything, syrup being sweet enough to distract from other tastes, and snakes being, well, people who are not trustworthy.

And then there’s Nick Johnsmith, aka Gristol Malik, who is a well liked non psychic that Truman calls a lick spittle—someone who fawns over others easily. In other words, a snake (egg, brain) that acts sweet (and syrupy) enough to seem like a chicken (egg, brain).

Do you see. Do you SEE THE VISION HERE.

Anyways onto phrase 2. Said by Gristol Malik.

“He took a poor, sad, country girl and turned her into a mighty warrior. And I’m going to do it again.”

Now, usual context will say he means he’ll bring Maligula out of Lucy/Nona. I don’t think that’s incorrect, per se.

But one of the things that really, REALLY snapped Lucy/Maligula was the death of Marona, her sister.

And who do we have camping nearby? Why, it’s an entire family. In fact, it’s Raz’s entire family. And at LEAST half of them are psychics.

Gristol already views Raz as a puppet. He only kind of likes him because he’s half Grulovian. And, you know, during the Rhombus of Ruin, Loboto was no longer under Oleander’s employee, so… who wanted Raz’s brain removed? Someone who, oh I don’t know, might have heard about Raz being a powerful psychic that MIGHT have noticed Raz’s rather unique name… or, more specifically, the last name of a circus that performed for the Gzar and his family, famous for water acts. One that, by chance, someone could have known that a Galochio, a family of psychics, recently married into?

And you know, Maligula is older, it’s good to have back-ups, right? I mean, this is the same guy that ACTUALLY pulled one over on an entire spy group of mind readers.

But, hey, maybe it wasn’t a plan to turn Raz into Maligula by killing one or some or all of his family! Raz is kind of pissed right now, and might not snap the way Gristol would want him to. I’m pretty sure murdering, say, Mirtala, his baby sister, might not work in Gristol’s favor when Raz is already against him.

That said… he’s not the only psychic in the Aquato family. And in fact some of those family members aren’t the most on board with the whole… Psychics and Psychonauts business.

Specifically, we have a barely used plot thread including Frazie Aquato and her acceptance of her psychic powers!

I’m sure that, oh say, her little brother dying in the middle of him helping the Psychonauts pick up their messes, when he should have been able to be saved by one of his heroes since he was literally at their headquarters and surrounded by psychic adults, will only have good things happen to the Psychonauts. I’m SO sure that Frazie won’t get extremely pissed at these people her brother looked up to so much. She’ll definitely be understanding and absolutely won’t use what seems to be a family trait of extremely powerful psychic power along with the hydrokinesis in her bloodline. Specifically because she, an acrobat since birth and taught to ignore a lot of the usual fears most people have about safety and the instinct to flee, definitely has a great relationship with her fight or flight mode.

:))))

Anyways I have a lot of thoughts about Psychonauts 2 (I’m not saying I’d do a fix it of some things that bother me, but I do tend to do canon rewrites to smooth out wrinkles as a fun writing exercise/my version of hyperfixation on media and with the time gap between the games there is PLENTY of those in the plot, so uhhhhhhhh) but no one to bother them to, so uhhhhh yeah thanks for coming to my Ted talk.

[chirpsythismorning]

Watching Wayward Pines for potential ST5 inspo bc the Duffers wrote a couple episodes in s1, and when I got to their second (last) episode and their name crossed the screen, I noticed a visual parallel that might already exist on the show…

Recognize it??

It instantly reminded me of that last shot for the opening of s3, with the landscape peaking out behind the Russian base. But when I went back and actually compared the two, holy shit it’s near identical, and not just the landscape.

I didn’t even remember the helicopter being there on the left, not to mention the pillar-esaue contraption at the center. Like… they’re the same picture.!

With them being credited right at that moment, it’s obvious this was an intentional nod to their previous work.

I just thought it was cool so I wanted to share, but in terms of my watch overall, there is a LOT going on that they could pull from. I’m only halfway through s1, though I’ve heard the show goes downhill in s2 so we’ll see how that goes 😂

[sysig]

He was a human pirate, which you wouldn’t think you’d have to specify and yet (Patreon)

[gonnadosomethingwmylife]

I always find it funny when people are more mad at a character than the people they supposedly hurt are? I get it happens when a fandom is younger or it’s been truely written incorrectly based on the characters, but a lot of the times it’s not and it’s funny to see idk. I am looking at the teen wolf fandom.

[rainbowchaox]

I do have a feeling if Chayanne does die because no admin could play him and get tasks done he won’t actually like die. He probs be canonically kidnapped by the federation or the codes for a time. I have solid faith in the admins not punishing a dude who was THERE but the admins couldn’t make it happen. It could be a event that again literally drags mr against heavy lore who just wants cottagecore times with his kids back into main lore. Like full on rescue mission to save chayanne with actual consequences if they fail (aka chayanne full on dies) the fact is I have faith.

(Apollo pls do not interact! I am already drained from the Not!Juanaflippa.)

[innytoes]

Dark fantasy AU?

-In hindsight, as he's being chased through the forest, hunted by mythical creatures is not where Reggie thought he'd end up when his folks told him they were moving to Los Angeles. Honestly, considering how he used to roam the woods and fields near his Meemaw's farm, the fact that he'd stumbled into a fairy circle near the beach was almost insulting.

-It's not even that he manages to outrun them. It's that one night (he thinks it's night, though time moves differently here and light and dark are all tangled up and is the purple haze of the sky supposed to be dusk or dawn or just a dark stop of the forest?) he'd decided to just... give up.

He couldn't remember how long he'd been running, running from the pounding of hooves and the yapping of dogs that did not look anything like what a dog should look like. He couldn't remember a time where he wasn't hungry, or thirsty, or tired, but something inside of him just kept making him run and run and run

-But he'd had enough. So he just sat down, with his back towards the noise, and hoped they'll kill him quickly. And to comfort himself, he sang the lullaby his Meemaw used to sing when he was scared of the thunder.

-That's what saved him. One of the fae, Caleb, was so charmed by the song that instead of doing whatever it is they did with their prey, he bundled Reggie up and took him to his... castle. Dwelling. Domain.

-He was dressed in finery and made to sing as Caleb and the other fae danced and ate and did things that Reggie very much had not wanted to see, thank you very much. But eventually, they slept, and Reggie met... the other humans who were trapped here.

-Luke, a young boy who had run away from home to become a musician in 1875. He was distraught to hear Reggie tell him it was the nineties now. Even more distraught when Reggie clarified it was the 1990s.

-There was Alex, who had been cast out of his village for reasons he did not want to share, but that Reggie figured out pretty quickly when he saw the way he looked at Willie. He'd fallen asleep near a fairy circle, and the promises he'd been made had been so tempting, he'd said yes before he fully understood the deal.

-And then there was Willie. The boy who had been stolen from his parents, a changeling left in his place. Who had grown up here, a part of this world yet not really. Who did not know what the other boys meant when they talked about years, or America, or really the whole concept of 'family'.

-Luke's the one who tells them of their escape plan. Alex is worried they can't trust Reggie not to rat him out to Caleb, and Reggie is like: um excuse me I was just hunted for sport for who knows how long you think I wanna help that guy?

-But before he can Willie just tilts his head and says: his heart is pure.

-Which is very sweet but also a little creepy.

-Anyway, they do manage to escape Caleb's clutches somehow, and end up back in the human world.

-Being yeeted out of a little ring of mushrooms in the soil of a plant Ray overwatered in the big plant wall of the Molina studio was not particularly pleasant, okay. Considering a real human should not be able to fit through that. But Willie explained that as soon as a fairy portal grew, it was only a manner of time that the fairies would notice it and stake it out to see what they could lure to their realm.

-Somehow, Luke and Alex get thrown clear across the room, Luke slamming against the door, Alex dropping onto the concrete floor.

-Reggie's not sure if him crashing against a pretty wooden piano is better or worse. The sound it made was definitely worse.

-Somehow, Willie ends up sitting crosslegged on the little piano bench, and he turns and quickly crushes up the mushrooms to destroy the portal.

-Julie, of course, is screaming, Alex and Luke and Reggie are screaming. Willie is trying to explain to Julie she over-watered her fern and pouts when she runs away.

-No they're not ghosts but they are changed and they all have weird powers. Luke nearly cries with joy that he can still summon his guitar. Alex is really not okay with this whole 'walking through walls' thing. Reggie is sad he cannot summon a puppy or a pizza.

-Willie can teleport short distances and is shocked to learn humans can't just do that? You have to walk everywhere? Or ride a horse. What's a car? What's roller skates? He needs to see one of these skateboad things immediately, let's summon the human girl back to ask for one. What can they trade for a skateboard?

-They're kind of freaked out at the whole 2020 thing, but hey, Reggie's like: at least it hasn't been a hundred years like when I told Luke about the 90s.

-Queue canon but it's even worse and more chaotic.

[obessivedork]

My Sole meeting Danse and his crew is so funny because it can't happen in game but CANNONICALLY they competently snipe the feral gouls, making Danse think he is dealing with a professional wasteland-hardened tough cookie. But oh-hoh! 'Tis a bait and switch, this doe-eyed (almost Vault fresh) lamb stumbles into the compound with a heavy anxiety shake, asks if the ferals will get back up or if they're contagious, realizes Danse and his crew are military (of sorts) and is IMMEDIATELY suspicious enough to bug out, gets snuck up on by a stray feral while they're backing out of the compound, and FAINTS as soon as they realize one of "those zombies" got so close to them.

[basslinegrave]

anyway i need more monarch a trois fics. sigh. wish i could write, i gotta draw them more at least