#but I 100% believe that SOMETHING will happen if it gets anywhere near the computers

[buildoblivion]

oh god this means that the archivist is right outside the fucking oiar!!!!?????

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Training Day

AMHL – Masterlist

WARNINGS: PTSD, domestic violence & abuse, panic attack, anxiety 

“I feel like you’re torturing me now,” Y/N groaned as she put the bar back down on the bench press.

Dick chuckled. “You gotta gain some strength before I teach you, otherwise you’re just going to hurt yourself.”

“You callin’ me fat, Grayson?”

His eyes grew three sizes and his jaw dropped in shock. “No, no, no, no, no. I would never!”

Then he jumped into a tangent about how beautiful he was and he loved her for how she looked and never wanted her to change, unless that’s what she wanted. And it went on and on and on.

Y/N finally took pity on him and started laughing.

“Dick, I’m just fucking with you.”

He pointed an accusatory finger at her. “That was cruel.”

But she only laughed more.

“10 pushups for that,” he demanded.

Her jaw dropped. “Noooo!”

“Yeah. Come on.”

She did as he instructed, knowing she did kind of deserve it.

Afterward, he led her to the training mats. They had done weight training for about 30 minutes or so, and Dick insisted that was going to be a big part of all this. He was right: some of the self-defense moves would only hurt her if she didn’t prep her body.

But when Dick turned to find Y/N standing at the ready on the other side, his tough-love coaching style disappeared.

She looked so small and fragile, clearly nervous for the actual fight training.

Sometimes Dick forgot that Y/N wasn’t like his family or his teammates. She didn’t graduate from field work to sitting behind a computer. Hacking and computer science was her first and only exposure to this life.

“What?” She asked.

“Nothing. You just…look nervous.”

“I am,” she admitted.

With that, Dick walked across the mat and planted a kiss on her lips.

He stepped back with a smile, “Ready?”

She beamed at him and nodded.

For the next half hour or so, Dick taught Y/N all the basics of self defense: how to get out of holds, where to hit an attacker for the most impact, and how to prevent herself from getting injured in the process.

“Things are going to be quicker in real life. You’re going to have to get over the feeling of panic and calm yourself down enough to properly react,” Dick explained.

Y/N nodded with her back to him as she returned to her spot on the other side of the training mats.

But she didn’t reach it before Dick surprised her with a chokehold from behind her.

Before now, Dick had been walking her through moves step by step. But he clearly was trying to prove the point that she would most likely not be expecting these attacks. And he wanted her to get used to reacting to the surprise of it all.

Except��Dick didn’t think this training tactic completely through.

Dick hadn’t taken into account that his student and girlfriend was also a victim of domestic violence.

Since she first escaped from underneath her parents’ roof, Y/N’s had improved a lot when it came to treating and handling her PTSD.

It used to be so much worse.

Loud noises would throw her into panic attacks. People just lightly touching her without her expecting it made her jump feet away. Anytime she got a whiff of alcohol that smelled even a little bit similar to her father’s preferred brand could set her off.

Over the years, it got better.

Therapy helped. Dick helped – his whole family had helped.

But Y/N knew it would always be there, waiting inside her.

And in this moment, it decided to reveal itself once again.

Y/N’s vision blurred. All she could hear was her heartbeat making its way to her ears.

It wasn’t until her entire body was trembling that Dick realized something was wrong.

He let go.

But before he even completely let go, Y/N dodged away so quickly that she almost tripped over her own feet.

She whipped around, eyes so wide. Like a deer facing a hunter, fully aware it was about to be slaughtered.  

And Dick realized how much he just fucked up.  

Without even realizing what she was doing, Y/N slowly lowered herself to the ground, not trusting that her knees to not give out at any moment.

“Y/N,” Dick whispered desperately.

It was hearing how sorry he was already that made Y/N’s eyes fill with tears.

As soon as she was shakily lowered to the ground, she hugged her knees to her chest and hid her face in them.

“Can we stop?” She begged, as if she had no choice and Dick had complete control.

Her voice and sob was muffled by her knees.

“Yes, we’re stopping,” Dick immediately answered with a clear voice. "You’re safe. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”

But Y/N only nodded, not helping to convince Dick that his words comforted her in the slightest. 

Her entire body was trembling as she continued to squeeze her knees as tightly as she could.

Dick kneeled but didn’t move any closer to her.

“Can I…Please…Can I touch you?” He whispered.

But she shook her head.

Not because she didn’t want him to, but because she felt like she had no control over her body right now. And she had no idea how it was going to react to being touched again. 

And she was already mortified and confused and terrified.

“OK,” Dick sighed as he lowered himself to the mat as well. “I’m just going to sit here. OK? I’m not going to get anywhere near you.”

Y/N didn’t respond. But her body was still clearly trembling.

“Can you just breath for me?” Dick asked softly. "Deep breaths in, slow breaths out.”

She still doesn’t respond. But he can hear her trying to do as he asked.

Dick didn’t think he should say any more, worried that his talking was just making the whole situation worse. But then he remembered a tactic Bruce had taught him to console victims who were going into shock or scared of them.

“Can you count backwards from 100 with me?” He then asked.

“What?” She sputtered out, confusedly.

But it was good that she was clearly able to even process that he was talking to her.

“Countdown from 100,” he repeated gently. “100, 99, 98,” he started.

She eventually joined in.

When they reached 1, Y/N went quiet again.

It seemed to have worked. 

After a few minutes, Y/N finally stood up.

“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” she whispered quickly, but it was so quiet that Dick almost didn’t catch it.

The next second, she rushed out of the cave.

Now that her PTSD had calmed down, she was clearly embarrassed.

“Y/N! Wait!” Dick called after her in a panic and jogged after her.

When they got to the main part of the manor and Y/N reached the stairs to go to the second floor, she had flown past a very confused and concerned Bruce Wayne.

Dick paused when Y/N sprinted up the stairs with her eyes blood shot and cheeks tear stained.

“What did you do, Dick?” Bruce grunted, not even considering that it could also possibly be Y/N’s fault.

Dick sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “I was showing her some self-defense…and I…I trigged her PTSD and she had a panic attack.”

“You need to be more careful,” Bruce reprimanded.

“I know, I know. It was stupid.” Dick already knew he messed up.

Bruce remained disappointed by Dick’s mistake.

“I’m going to go check on her,” Dick mumbled and passed Bruce with his head hung.

Dick returned to his childhood room, the one they always stayed in while visiting. 

The shower was already running.

He figured he should give her some time to herself and not rush into the bathroom.

Y/N was most likely crying and wanted to hide it from him. Even though she already realized Dick would know that’s exactly what she was doing.

10 minutes later, Y/N came out of the bathroom with a cloud of steam and a white towel wrapped tightly around her.

Dick’s heart broke even more when he saw her red, bloodshot eyes.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, desperate for her forgiveness.

He should’ve realized that certain things in typical self-defense training could trigger her.

Bruce had taught him to always expect the unexpected. And Y/N’s PTSD should’ve be expected while he put her under such a tense and rigorous circumstance.

Y/N hung her head in shame. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Dick.”

Her voice was so small, so vulnerable. Dick had to hold his breath to hear it.

“Y/N, you have nothing to be embarrassed about,” he insisted and he slowly stood up from the edge of the bed.

Dick wanted to go to her, but he was so scared of making things worse.

“Will you please come here?” He finally asked in a whisper.

She practically tiptoed to her boyfriend, while she held her towel tightly to her body as if it were some kind of armor.

As soon as Y/N was a few inches away, Dick gently tugged her onto his lap.

He was a very tactile man, and not being able to give her physical comfort was slowly killing him. And he felt utterly useless to help her.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed or sorry. I knew better than to surprise you like that. I was an idiot. What happened was my fault, OK?”

She nodded slowly.

Eventually his words would get through to her.

“Can you still train me?”

Y/N finally shocked Dick with her question.

“Of course, Y/N. Let’s just take it slower next time. I promise to be more careful.”

She nodded quickly, fully believing him and trusting him.

Now he put his arms around her, holding her to him tightly.

Dick had always been protective over her. But when she showed signs of being triggered, he went full mama bear on her. But that was also Dick as a person. He was so caring of everyone in his life. He was a big brother, a leader, a stand-in father sometimes even. 

But it often led to Y/N’s guilt when Dick felt the need to treat her like a piece of glass. But sometimes…she was. And that was OK.

“Wanna get to sleep?” He muttered into her hair.

She nodded again.

Dick carefully moved her from his lap and placed her on the bed before he stood.

Y/N watched with love in her eyes as Dick moved around the room and grabbed some of his clothes to give to her to sleep in.

What had she done to deserve him?

“I’ll give you a minute,” Dick told her as he handed the clothes to her. 

Not that he hadn’t seen her naked hundreds of times before. He was just treading carefully now. 

“Want some tea?” He asked as he walked to the door. 

“Sure,” she agreed quietly.

When Dick returned with two cups of tea, Y/N was already underneath the covers of their bed.

Dick watched Y/N as she took her first sip.

“You want to talk about it?” He was ever so careful in his tone, making sure it was obvious that Y/N didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to.

“There’s not much to tell,” she admitted with a shrug.

“That’s alright though.”

Y/N sighed. “As fucked up as it sounds, I sometimes forget about all the things he used to do to me.” 

She chuckled darkly, “Guess that’s repression for ya.”

Dick winced slightly.

“He used to grab me by the throat. Constantly. Because he hated whenever I tried to talk back or fight him with words. So he made sure I couldn’t talk at all. It was all about control.”

Despite being trigged and having a panic attack earlier, Y/N talked about her tragic past without any emotion, and it sounded so casually. She was numb to the memories, but the scars manifested themselves in different ways now – and that was proven today.

Y/N looked up when Dick hadn’t said anything.

She was taken aback by how he looked as if he was going to be sick.

“I’m fine, Dick. Really.” She insisted as she cupped his cheek.

It hurt Dick to hear these things more than it hurt Y/N now. 

“You were dealing with your past all by yourself long before you met me,” Dick answered. “But I just need you to know I’m never going to let anything like that ever happen to you again.”

He took in a shaky breath. “Even if – fuck – even if something happened between us, and we weren’t together…I’d still keep you safe. Do you understand?”

Y/N smiled.

Oh, Dick. His gentleness never stopped amazing her.

“I know that, Dick. I’ve always known that.”

Before he could answer, she added, “Now enough talking. Can you just cuddle me now?”

Dick laughed at her demanding and teasing tone.

“Get over here,” he pulled her into his chest.

Soon his grasp was so soothing to Y/N’s body that she reached the ultimate level of relaxation, especially after being drained from her earlier panic.

Y/N felt Dick kiss the top of her head before she fell asleep in his arms.

–––––––––––––––––––

ALL BONUS CONTENT CAN BE FOUND: HERE

[study-or-perish]

Things I wish I knew before freshman year of college

After being in college for a year, I’ve learned that some things that people told me were true and others were false. Now this is purely in my own experience so maybe I will prove to be wrong when you attend. Also, I am a commuter student so I don’t have any advice on dorms/apartments and how to deal with them. 

So seeing as half of my classes are in person this semester, I thought other people may be in the same situation as I am. 

emails will either be “Good Afternoon Professor Smith,” or “hey john” — whatever it is keep it short and to the point

the only profs that I actually call “Professor” are from gen eds/100 level courses. everyone else I address by their first name and none of them have a problem with it.

first day of class nerves are real here’s how to lessen it- scout out classes before hand, eat as you normally would on that day to avoid feeling sick, if it’s that bad just leave five minutes into class (chances are it’s not) you’re a college student you can leave, it’s not as bad as what you may think

KEEP THE SYLLABUS  it is your guide

8am classes will become hell as progress through the semester bc you won’t want to get up

your MWF classes may know about your TTH classes. Just so you know

don’t sit near the windows and look up to find the AC unit and don’t sit under it. You will be cold.

ice breakers are horrible and no one likes them, find a fact about yourself that you can expand on and use it for every class.

some classes will put you through your paces, go to office hours if needed

some profs are just unhelpful. Find another prof that would be willing to help

student tutors are not helpful at all

start studying for an exam at least a week early and get into that habit

raising your hand in class to ask a question is powerful because that means you’ve gotten far enough to actually understand what is going on

some profs won’t let you use a graphing calculator on an exam, bring a less complicated one with you as well.

some profs won’t let you use a calculator at all. sharpen up those basic math skills

if you have a genuinely bad prof, report them to the head prof of that department. If there is enough students who say the same thing they can take care of things :) (exception- tenured profs)

take public speaking your first semester and take it seriously. It really does help.

time between classes can be used for watching YouTube, studying, or taking a nap. Use it wisely.

always bring a water bottle and a granola bar with you anywhere you go

first semester may be exactly like high school but second semester won’t be as you will get harder classes

all nighters are not necessary if you study a little everyday

no one cares what you wear. HOWEVER if you want to be easily identified as a freshman on the first day, dress up really nicely. I just wore a school shirt and jeans, but I saw hoards of freshman girls with dresses and heels walking to class

speaking of clothes, I wouldn’t recommend wearing short sleeve shirts and shorts until you know the climate of the rooms you’ll be in. But that’s your preference

hand sanitizer. even after covid please continue to use it. There are sick people all the time on campus without covid

I believe an electronic writing device to be better than any paper or pens. You’ll have everything with you at all times without worrying about losing things

PDF scanner app

FIND A RELIABLE BACKPACK not a trendy one, a nice reliable comfy backpack with plenty of room

you don’t have to meet your best friends within the first day, week, month, or semester into college. They’ll come, it will be okay

you may make a friend that you later find out that they are horrible. End it quickly, ghost if you have to

if you feel lonely bc you have no friends bc you went to college on your own, please talk to someone about it. it does help even if it is a prof who asked you how your day is in private (not in front of the whole class)

everyone will think you know what you’re doing if you look confident. Doesn’t matter if you’re walking to class, doing work, or even asking questions. They’ll assume you’re higher in your education than you really are. I’ve had profs come up to me asking if I was a sophomore or a junior (I was a freshman in my first semester)

everyone and their mother will talk to you during the first week

no one will tell you about specific things (such as expenses, scheduling, etc.) seek it out if you find something you don’t understand

profs will tell you about due dates and exam dates, it may be brief but they’ll tell you

noise cancelling headphones are a must

group work is hell even if you know the members. my engineering prof says to make a contract that every one signs stating what they will do. present it to the prof if someone fails to do something.

stay away from populated areas that most people will go to such as libraries/tables/cafe. (covid related)

meal plans can be useless but sometimes you’re required to have one

Online classes:

a desk is best but sitting on the floor is a nice change of scenery

it is true that you should have a separate area for studying/classes but not everyone can do that. Try to angle where you sit either out of a window or face a wall opposite to where you sleep.

getting another monitor for my desk has been really helpful

tip from my computer science prof- look away from your screen periodically, humans are adapted to see far distances better and it relaxes the muscles. hang something up across your room to read every now and then to reduce eye strain. 

blue light blocking glasses can help reduce headaches 

you can do classes in bed if you want, I have and it hasn’t caused any problems

PDF scanner app

a planner is a must in this case to track when assignments are due

emails, emails, emails. All day.

my school has told me they can’t require us to turn on our cameras, so I don’t. even during exams. (It’s an invasion of privacy)

if you have to turn on your camera, don’t have a distracting background

turn in assignments one day early just incase something should happen where you have to email a prof saying that you’re unable to turn it in.

I’ll probably add to this as I think of things but for now… here is all I know

[kaeyas-beloved]

Hi!! May I request some fluff headcanons for Fyodor from bsd with a female s/o and they both have two cute daughters? owo

Hello Anon! You may absolutely request this (and thank you so much for doing so)! Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy :D

*Quietly chants “soft Fyodor, soft Fyodor, soft Fyodor!”*

Also I hope it’s okay that I made the two daughters twins!

And I’m really sorry if these aren’t the best because I’m still getting the hang of doing HCs and Fyodor is one of these characters that I’ll write for while still being a bit unsure of his character... So I’m sorry for any OOCness, if it’s not fluffy enough or just not good altogether T_T There’s some fluffy bits but still if they you can always come back and request again!

~~~ Fyodor & a F!S/O w/ Twin Daughters

First and foremost - Fyodor had little to no plans to start a family with you. Not because he didn’t love you, but more so because he’s a busy man with his ‘purging of ability users’ plan

Though the day that you told him you were pregnant a new feeling blossomed in his chest

It wasn’t anything grand but he felt a twinge of happiness mixed with some form of pride as the smallest of smiles graced his face

Not a sadistic smirk or a teasing smile but a real one

Dare we say, he may have been excited for what was to come.

Planting a soft kiss on your lips he uttered a “what a pleasant surprise” before going on with his day, you doing the same

And for the next little while nothing changed in your daily routine, almost like he was never told that he’s got a baby on the way

You knew better, this was just how Fyodor was 

Really though he’s working from the shadows and making sure you stay safe, ranging from sending out one of his men to watch over you anytime you go out to just out right eliminating potential threats that are spotted

Fyodor also (subtly) spends just a little less time on his computer as well

A little more than half way through the pregnancy, when a bump has appeared, you two were in bed, back to back and your hand was on your stomach 

Then you felt it

“Fyo!” you called his name, voice a whisper in the dead of night as you sat up. He hummed, turning over to face you, “give me your hand” watching silently as you guided his palm to where yours was just a few seconds ago, Fyodor waited for something to happen.  

And then he too felt it - a strong kick

“It means he’s healthy” he told you simply, looking up into your shining eyes. Oh he’ll never forgot the way you looked that night with a smile that lit up the dark room spread across your face

When the due date drew near, it’s in his best interest when he tells you that he wants you to stay in the house less anything happen to you or the babies

Right - oh you should’ve seen the momentary (and I mean momentary) wide-eyed, shocked look on his face when he was told that he wasn’t going to have one kid but two - both of them being girls too!

When the two little bundles are born surprisingly Fyodor is the one that takes care of them quite a few times when one or both start to cry at ungodly hours of the night

Usually he’ll tell you that you can go back to bed and that he’ll calm them down since he’s up and awake anyway, allowing you the much needed sleep.  

Another surprise? Fyodor can calm his daughters easily. You’ve chalked it up to it being the slightly serene and calming aura he gives off. It’s a trait you’re very thankful for in these situations

During the times that he might be just lounging on the couch (assuming he does such a thing from time to time) Fyodor will let one or both of his daughters sleep on his chest (if he can manage)

When they’re a little bit older Fyo’s a fan of having them sat on his lap while he works at his computer, humming and gazing down at them if they want his attention

You once told him off for having them near a screen so much and so close too, claiming that it’ll damage their eyes

As a form of affection/praise Fyo tends to pat their heads a lot

Is the absolute king at not giving into their puppy dog eyes or pleading smiles 

They want sweets before dinner or want to stay up past their bedtime? Hahaha nope~

He might even tease them with this too. Like he’ll act like he’s thinking about saying yes then go and plainly say no with a teasing smile or something along those lines 

Something he does let them get away with though is wearing his ushanka

Just the mere sight of one of his little girls enjoying wearing it has his a tiny smile emerging and lavender coloured eyes softening the slightest, appearing almost relaxed

That was until both his daughters began to fight over who go to wear it and you and Fyo had to go and buy them their own

MEANING THAT THEY NOW MATCH AND IT’S THE CUTEST THING EVER! 

You’ve tried to sneak a picture but Fyodor never gives you an opening T_T

100% plays the cello for them as a form of entertainment or as a lullaby on nights when neither of them can fall asleep

Also might teach them how to play the instrument if they show any interest in it

Can also teach them skills that he thinks will help them in the world they live in, like how to catch someone in a lie or how to outsmart them

Concerning his... occupation in the underworld, Fyodor doesn’t outright expose them to it, but also doesn’t make a huge effort to shield his daughters from it either

However, that in no way means that if anyone, anyone thinks it’s a good idea to lay a single finger on his family that he’ll let them get away with it.

Lets just say that they won’t escape without proper punishment 

I believe that Fyodor is the kind of dad to allow his kids to roam free, they can do nearly anything they please of their own free will (if that makes sense). 

Like they can go anywhere they’d want to when they’re older, they can have whatever hobbies they please and Fyodor wouldn’t mind what it is

But! That excludes his daughters finding a s/o - perish the thought entirely 

Even if they do get one expect them to have a very thorough background check done on them. Fyodor will know everything about them to ensure his little girls are safe

And if he finds even one thing wrong or believes that this s/o is just using his kid? Someone’s getting a visit from Mr. Rat Man (and no likes when that happens)

Bottom line Fyodor is a relatively mellow dad that will tease his daughters but still be there to comfort them (like the lullaby bit) and try to keep them safe in his own Fyodor Dostoevsky way 

~~~

I hope these were okay and sorry again if they weren’t!

Right now requests are open [check my bio though to be sure]! Don’t forget to check the rules too for the fandoms/topics I write for (which are linked in my masterlist)!  

Masterlist

[slytherinbarnes]

Sub Rosa [53]

viii. god complex

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: blood mentions, death by radiation, sketchy doctor experimentation, violence, anxiety, nausea. 

Summary: with the death wave rapidly approaching, the question on everyone’s mind is: how far are you willing to go to save the human race?

a/n: the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

March 21st, 2150; Becca’s Lab

Your radio call with Bellamy leaves you in a good mood for a few hours, but that it quickly vanishes with the arrival of the black rain and the questionable experimentation on Baylis. During your call with Bellamy, your mom gave Baylis a dose of Nightblood, and you all wait around a few hours to make sure it has time to integrate with his system. Once it does, everyone is called to the lab to watch the testing that may save the human race, as horrifying as it may be.

Which is where you are now, standing beside Clarke near the radiation tube. Everyone else is scattered around the lab but also watching closely. Baylis is strapped inside, hooked up to monitors, tubes and wires connected to his body in various locations. Jackson checks over Baylis one last time as your mom monitors the screens in front of her. “Vital signs are strong. Jackson, seal the chamber.”

Jackson seals the chamber, his face blank of any emotion. “He’s ready.”

“Yeah, but are we?” You look over at Raven as she asks, her body rigid. Luna is near her, looking similarly upset. The air in the room is tense, nearly everyone opposed to what you’re about to do. Some of you can forgive the questionable tactics if it means saving your people, and the human race, but some of you can't. You’re conflicted, because as awful as Baylis seems to be, sticking someone into a tube and pumping radiation inside is an awful way to potentially die. 

Emori, who seems okay with the decision, given what he did to her and her brother remind you all, “The guy's a monster.”

Clarke, tired of the arguing, looks around the room at each of you. “We've been over this. None of us wants to do this, but the death wave will be here in 10 days. Luna's stem cells grafted successfully, and Baylis is making nightblood on his own. This really is our only hope.”

Murphy backs up both Clarke and Emori. “We really still talking about this? Black rain is already here, and 18 people died in it yesterday at Arkadia. If Nightblood can let us walk around in it, I, for one, want to know about that.”

There’s another moment of hesitation, before your mom speaks up. “Okay. Jackson, proceed.”

“Copy that.” He reaches for the controls for the chamber, slowly spinning a dial. “Initiating...500 REM.”

All of you watch Baylis closely, and other than the changing lights in the chamber, his eyes are still closed, blissfully unaware of the radiation around him. Jackson moves the dial again, increasing the radiation. “850. This is where we'd see symptoms in a non-Nightblood.”

You and Clarke move closer to the chamber, getting a better look, searching for any signs of redness or lesions as your mother calls out, “Blood pressure is 100 over 50. Body temp is 98.7. Resting comfortably.”

And still, Baylis is unmoving, appearing exactly the same as when he was put inside the chamber. You tell your mom, “No visible effects.”

Jackson turns the dial again, increasing it even higher. “1,000 REM….1,500.”

“All good here.”

“2,000 REM, the level of the black rain.”

Clarke smiles from her place beside you, “Still nothing, it's working.”

You see Roan on the other side of the chamber also smiling, as Jackson increases the radiation once more. “2,500.”

The reaction is instantaneous. The machine in front of your mother starts to beep loudly, signaling a spike in Baylis’ heartbeat. And as you and Clarke watch the man, red spots start to appear on his body, burns caused by the radiation. They spread over him quickly, some of them turning to lesions and Clarke yells, “Turn it off!”

But it’s too late. Baylis wakes from whatever medication your mother was giving him, screaming out in pain, “It stings! It stings!”

Your mom rushes towards the chamber, ready to pull it open, “Get him out of there!” But Jackson grabs her and holds her back, “Wait! It's not safe yet!”

As you wait for the radiation to get sucked out of the chamber, you all watch in horror as Baylis continues to scream. His screams turn to coughing up blood, thick and black, all over the glass around him, until he grows still, head slumped to the side. The computer behind you flatlines, indicating that Baylis is dead, killed by radiation, and soon, so will the rest of you. 

Your mother's voice is a horrified whisper as she stares at the dead man in the chamber. “What have I done?”

-

It takes a few more minutes for the chamber to clear up, but as soon as it does, your mother pulls it open, and her and Jackson transfer Baylis from the chamber onto a gurney. She takes a final blood sample from him before covering his body, ready to bury him as soon as the black rain stops. You stare at the blood soaked chamber in front of you, and the sight of it makes you sick, reminding you what you've done in order to survive. Another death that you could have prevented, another kill that you had a hand in. Maybe you deserve the Wanlida title, maybe you deserve to be called a monster. You walk off in search of some rags and cleaner, and when you return, Raven has a video feed pulled up for the death wave heading your way. Though it’s still 10 days out, it gets closer and closer with every passing second, reminding all of you of your impending deaths, especially now that Nightblood has failed. 

You head straight back to the chamber and start to clean the blood from it, and seconds later someone appears at your side, jumping in to help. You look over and see Luna, who still looks bothered by the whole situation, but you nod at her in appreciation. You sit side by side and clean the chambers, as Jackson, your mom, and Clarke all pour over the blood analysis from Baylis. “Abby, take a look at this.”

Luna turns to you, a stone bracelet in her hand, found at the end of the chamber. “The stones of his ancestors.”

She hands them to you and you look them over, as Clarke questions what’s on the screen behind her. “What is it?”

“Sodium polyethanol sulfonate. It's an additive used to prevent clotting. Looks like the radiation broke it down and caused a chain reaction.”

You pass the stones back to Luna, your attention now on the conversation behind you, not sure you like where this is going. Clarke looks between Jackson and your mother. “What happens if we remove it?”

“We could save everyone.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you see the others perk up and come closer, listening in on the conversation between the medical staff. Murphy is the first to butt in. “You could? So, you're saying this can still work.”

“Not without testing.”

Raven turns towards your mother, angry and incredulous. “The last guy just died, screaming in agony, and you wanna try it again?”

Clarke turns towards her, already in defense of your mother, and this experimentation. “Give us a better idea, Raven. Please.”

Murphy shrugs and gestures to the exit of the lab, “So what? We just go out there, hunt for someone else?”

Miller, whose head was down, leaning against the metal stairs listening to the chaos, lifts his head. “No one's going anywhere in this storm.”

“Then we wait for it to pass.”

Roan looks over at Murphy, refuting his argument. “When it does, there may not be anyone else to hunt for.”

“Hunting for someone else to kill.” Luna scoffs, looking everyone over. “What's the matter with you people? Even Baylis honored the dead, he wore the stones of his Rock Line ancestors. Who will honor him?”

Rock Line? You turn to her, looking confused. “Wait, Baylis was Sangedakru.”

Emori steps forward, speaking for the first time. “He was, he was also a thief. He probably stole those stones.”

Roan, now also suspicious, looks at Emori as if he doesn't believe a word she's saying. “A thief who didn't bear the mark of Sangedakru.”

Clarke looks over at you, and you can see the wheels turning in her head, before she reaches a conclusion, and turns to Emori. “That wasn't Baylis, was it?”

“Come on Clarke, that's crazy. Of course-”

She cuts Murphy off, “Who did we just kill?”

You all turn to look at the couple in shock, waiting for their answer. Instead, Emori takes off running, grabbing an IV pole and lifting it over her head, intending to smash the radiation chamber. Roan grabs her and lifts a knife to her throat, and she yells, “John, take out the machine!”

Murphy immediately tries to smash the machine, but Miller is faster than he is and pulls out his gun, pointing it at Murphy. “Don't do anything stupid, Murphy.”

Roan looks between the couple and muses, “Looks like we know who's next.”

You look at him in shock, and Clarke walks off to get two sets of flexicuffs for the couple. A few minutes later, they open the doors to the rocket and handcuff them to the stairs that lead up to the rocket door, securing them in place, while the rest of you watch on in horror. As everyone walks out of the room and the doors are closed behind you, Murphy yells, “Now you're gonna lock us up!? She was just trying to save her own life. We're not gonna touch your stupid machine, all right? Please, Clarke! You can't do this to us! You can't let them do this to us!”

As the doors securely slide shut, Raven walks over to your mother and Clarke, who are standing nearby, looking at blood samples. “Please tell me you're not actually considering putting Emori in that chamber.”

Clarke, at the very least, does look conflicted as she turns to your mom. “Mom, I don't know what else to do.”

Roan answers before she can reassure your twin, giving her a serious look. “There is nothing else to do. We all know it.”

“Abby, there has to be something that doesn't make us murderers.”

Your mom looks at Raven, who refuses to back down and allow this to go on. “Jackson and I examined every possibility, and the only thing that we know for sure, is that if we do nothing, we die.”

She lets her words sink in, and then she glances over at Luna, who is nearby, leaning against a table. As you follow her eyes over to the Nightblood, you get your first good look at her in a while. There are large, dark rings around her eyes, indicating how tired she is and how much blood has been taken from her. She’s leaning against the table because her hip, the site of the bone marrow, is hurting, leaving her in pain. Her skin is pale, and she looks terrible, clearly unable to handle much more of this. Your mom, however, doesn't seem to notice. “Jackson, prep Luna for the next extraction.”

“No.” Everyone turns to Luna in shock, not expecting the words from her. “You've taken enough.”

“Luna, it's okay, we'll sedate you.”

“I said no. I won't allow my blood to kill any more innocent people.”

Without her blood, the human race will die, killing much more innocent people in the process. But something about this situation, about torturing Emori and potentially killing her just because she lied to save herself, seems worse than condemning the human race to extinction. The moral dilemma is not lost on you, you can see how complicated the situation is, but despite barely knowing Emori, you still don't want to watch her die. 

“My blood is a curse. It will, however, keep you from following me into the rain.”

Luna starts to head towards the stairs, dragging her injured leg behind her. Roan steps into her path, right at the base of the stairs, radiating power and authority. “We can't let you leave.”

Clarke echoes his sentiment, as she watches Luna with pleading eyes. “We need you, Luna.”

Luna ignores both of them, heading towards the stairs again, but Roan stops her again. “You're wounded, and I don't wanna fight you.”

“You have no choice. Remember?”

She spins and lands a kick on his chest with her good leg, sending Roan flying into a cart of medical supplies behind him. The kick hurts Luna just as much as it hurts Roan, her body struggling to hold up her weight. Roan pulls himself to his feet and stalks towards her, swinging a kick to her back that knocks her onto the ground with a loud cry of pain. He grabs her in a chokehold, putting pressure on her neck until she falls unconscious, as you all watch on in shock. Once she's knocked out, Roan lifts her into his arms and lays her onto one of the beds nearby, looking at your mom as if to say, “Here you go.”

You and Raven, the only two besides Murphy and Emori who seem to despise this, share a look with each other, equal parts shock and horror. She turns to your mom, her voice a horrified whisper, “So you're gonna strap her down and take her bone marrow? Welcome to Mount Weather.”

You feel a roll of nausea, a flash of memories coming at you. Hiding in the vent system, watching Dr. Tsing drill into one of the delinquents as he clings to his last thread of life. Bellamy hanging upside down, unwillingly healing one of the men that killed your people. Fox, bloodied and bruised, dumped into a minecart like trash, dead. Your mom strapped down, drilled into while you, Bellamy, and Clarke are faced with an impossible decision.

You shake your head, unable to stand this room for another second. Emotion pricks at your eyes and anxiety washes over you, feeling panicky at the thought of standing in this room and watching someone else die just so the rest of you can live. A decision you’ve been faced with before, but something about this is so much different. Your feet carry you out of the room, up the stairs, and to the office. You don’t realize what you're doing until your hand is reaching for the radio, already switching the channel to 4, the one you and Bellamy agreed to talk on. “Bellamy, do you read me?”

You wait for an answer, but you're met with silence. Emotion rises in you again, choking you, making your voice sound thick. “Bellamy, please tell me you’re there, I need to talk to you.”

You’re met with a long moment of silence, and you put your head down in your hands, ready to cry your eyes out. Just as the tears start to fall, Bellamy’s voice comes through the radio, sounding worried, “My natshana, are you okay?”

“No.”

A sob breaks free from you, and you let the button go, not wanting Bellamy to hear you cry. “Are you hurt? What’s wrong?”

Tears spill down your cheeks, the emotion tight in your throat, leaving you unable to speak. You sit listening to the sound of his voice, tears falling down your face as he worries. “Talk to me, please.”

“We killed someone today when we tried to test Nightblood. Bellamy, it was awful. He was coughing up blood, burns and lesions appearing all over his body as he screamed in pain. He died in complete agony, and the test didn't even work. We failed. But now…”

You trail off, thinking of watching Emori die in the same way. Then Murphy, if that doesn't work. And once they’re dead, who’s next? Who will death bring to the table next, Wanlida? 

“But now what?”

“Now they think they know what went wrong, and they want to test it again.”

“On another Grounder?”

“Something like that. Emori, one of us. It’s complicated because she lied to us, and I think people are using that as a reason to justify this being okay, but Bellamy I can't do that. I can't rationalize in my head that she deserves to die just because she was trying to save her life in the first place. If this is the price of survival, it’s too high, too much. And maybe we don’t deserve it.”

He’s quiet, taking everything in, before he whispers, “Do you remember what I told you when Pike offered you that leadership position?”

“That he was right to trust me, because I don't back down when things get hard.”

“That’s right. And I always thought that I did what was right for our people, but sometimes what I thought was right, wasn't. But you, you have always done what’s right for us. Even when things are hard, you don't back down. You make the tough decisions, the right decisions, because others can’t. It sounds like this is one of those decisions.”

You think on his words, mull them over, a plan already forming in your mind. A smile spreads on your face, because Bellamy always knows exactly what to say to you. “Thank you, Bellamy.”

You hear a knock on the glass, and you look up, meeting Clarke’s eyes. She pushes the door open and tips her head down to the lab. “We’re about to start.”

“Okay.” You lift the radio, “Bellamy, I have to go.”

You hear a door slam in the background when he answers, “Looks like I do too.”

“Wait, where are you?”

He sighs, “I’ll explain later. Radio as soon as you can, same channel.”

“Copy that. I love you.”

“I love you more than the stars.”

You smile and set the radio down, pushing the chair back and standing, looking up at your twin as you do. The conflict of this decision seems to be wearing on her just as heavily, the sag in her shoulders worse that normal, a frown permanently etched onto her face. You hate to do it, but you know you need to feed into her conflict, make her doubt the plan, because if you can turn Clarke onto your side, most of the others will follow suit. You walk towards the door, squeezing her arm as you walk past, whispering, “What would dad think about all this?”

You don’t wait for her response, you just keep walking towards the stairs, shuffling down them and coming to stand at the bottom. Clarke joins you a second later, and you can see the conflict in her still, growing deeper with every passing second. Still, she presses the button to the door for the rocket and walks into the room, Miller and Roan right at her side. “It’s time.”

Murphy looks at her in a panic, “Guys, just wait, okay? Hear me out.”

Clarke nods, trying to convince him, and herself. “It'll work this time.”

Tears spring up in Emori’s eyes, and her voice is thick with tears as she insists, “Then how about we just go with that and forget the test?”

Clarke turns to Miller and nods, and the man steps forward and injects Emori with a sedative, knocking her out instantly. Murphy starts to fight, yelling with rage and emotion, “Miller! Miller, I swear to God, I'll kill y-”

Roan cuts him off by putting a knife to his throat, but he ignores it as his threats turn to begging, watching as Miller takes his love away. “Miller, please. Just look at me, man. You don't need to do this!”

“I wish that were true.”

Miller backs out of the room with Emori over his shoulder, and Roan steps away from Murphy to follow him, leaving you, Clarke, and Murphy alone. He turns on Clarke, pissed. “You don't have to do this! Who the hell do you think you are, huh?”

Her jaw is clenched tight, Murphy only aiding in her conflict. “I'm trying to save us.”

“Save us? Ah, right. Wanheda, savior of us all! But maybe you're forgetting the last time you saved us, I was saving you!”

“I'm not forgetting.”

He tries to throw his hands up in frustration, and you get a look at the blood running over them, covering the bruises that are starting to bloom on his wrists from his struggles with the cuffs. “You haven't forgotten? Then, please, you don't need to do this. Don't do it.”

Hearing Murphy beg is foreign to you, and only aids in the nausea already starting to roll through you again. You glance back and see Emori laid out in a bed, awaiting her injections. Murphy switches to anger, his emotions high and running all over the place. “You know, it's too bad that you weren't a real Nightblood, because then you could have been Commander. Imagine how many people you could've killed then. Tell me something, after you murder Emori, am I next?”

Clarke says nothing, just turns her head away from him, and you start to think that maybe he is next. Murphy may be a scumbag cockroach, but even he has his redeeming qualities, and you’re not eager to see him killed. He continues his emotional campaign with desperation, the sound of it absolutely breaking your heart. “I'm begging you, please. I love her! Don't do this!”

Clarke’s jaw shifts, trying to keep her emotions in check. “Emori will be fine.”

She turns away, already heading towards the door, walking past you on the way. The movement must have reminded Murphy of your presence because he yells at her retreating figure, “Look at me! If Emori dies...your twin dies!”

Clarke stills in place for a fraction of a second, and you look at Murphy, knowing he means it. But then she continues out the door, and Murphy turns to you, voice low and pleading. “You have to help her, I love her! I love her the way you love Bellamy, please! You can't let them kill her!”

You close the space between you, voice low and quiet. “I won't.”

And then you turn and walk out of the room, the door closing behind you. Once you step back into the lab, your eyes start cataloguing things, forming a plan. Miller and Roan are by the stairs, Raven is hovering nearby. Jackson is near the computers, your mom and Clarke are near Emori’s sleeping form. There’s a table beside her, a tray on its surface, two vials of Nightblood on the tray. 

When you reach them, and everyone is accounted for, your mom reaches for the Nightblood vial, ready to inject Emori. But as soon as it's in her hand, moving towards the patient’s arm, she freezes, unable to do it. Clarke leans towards her and whispers, “Mom, we have to do this.”

“I can't.”

She turns and puts the vial back on the tray, stepping away and turning her back to Emori, unable to look at her. Clarke walks over her to comfort her, and you eye the Nightblood vials, forgotten on the tray. You glance at Jackson, who’s not paying attention, and Roan and Miller are behind you, unable to see around you. You grab the vial, hold it in your hand, and start to move towards your arm when a hand lands over your own, stopping you. You look up in surprise, meeting Clarke’s eyes, who lifts her other hand, revealing the other vial of Nightblood. She whispers, “Stronger together.”

You nod your head, and at the same time, you push the vials of Nightblood into your arm, injecting yourselves instead of Emori. Jackson says both of your names in shock, the only one to witness what you’ve done, and your mom turns around, eyes landing on the needles coming out of your arm in horror. She rushes towards both of you, but it’s too late. Each vial of Nightblood is empty, now injected into the Griffin Twins, starting the process of becoming Nightbloods.

The black blood traces a path through your veins, and you watch it track its way up your arm until it disappears beneath your sleeve. Your mother starts to cry, horrified, and the weight of what you and Clarke just did starts to hit you. It’s either you or your twin going in that chamber, and odds are high that whoever it is won’t come out again. Still, you try to use humor to diffuse the situation, locking eyes with your twin as you ask, “Aren’t twins usually the best test subjects anyways?”

-

Everyone waits around for two hours before Jackson motions each of you to a bed, ready to check to see if your blood has changed. He moves over to you first, drawing a vial of blood from your arm, and you watch in fascination as black liquid fills up the vial. He does the same to Clarke, and her blood is the same, no longer red like it used to be. You both look at each other and whisper, “It worked.”

Jackson puts both of your vials onto the lab table behind him, before standing in front of you again. “It’s been two hours, how do you feel?”

“Good.”

“Ready.”

You and Clarke stand, walking over to the chamber, but your mom stops in front of your path, blocking you. “I won't let either of you do it.”

Clarke puts a comforting hand on her arm. “We trust you, it’ll work.”

“Besides, you were willing to use it on Emori. Now you have to be willing to use it on us.” You turn to Jackson, nodding your head at him. “Turn it on.”

“Jackson, don’t!” Your mom looks between you, looking terrified. “If either of you go in there, you’ll die. I saw it.”

You shake your head, not understanding. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw it.”

Raven questions, “Like I saw the rocket?”

Your mom nods, but you shake your head, still not understanding what she means. Clarke is growing equally frustrated and confused, and she starts to walk towards the chamber again, reaching out for your hand to take you with her. “We're wasting time.”

As soon as your mom sees you on the move again, she freaks out. She pushes past both of you and grabs an IV pole, the same one Emori tried to use earlier, and she starts to smash the radiation chamber. You all yell at her to stop, every single one of you now collectively on the same page, but she doesn't. She smashes the glass and swings at the cables, severing them. She hits over and over until the machine is broken beyond repair, ignoring all of you yelling at her to stop. She drops the pole once she’s finished, sliding down to the floor, starting to cry. 

Clarke goes over to her to comfort her, pulling your mom into her arms as she cries into Clarke’s chest. You watch on, shaking your head, more angry than anything. You turn away from the group, and head upstairs again, straight for the office. Bellamy is already calling out to you when you arrive, the sound of loud music pulsing and beating in the background. You run and grab the radio, joking as you answer, “Did you get lost at a rock concert?”

He gives you a sarcastic laugh in return, “Ha ha, no. Jasper is having an end of the world celebration party. He dragged me to the forest for jobi nuts earlier, which is where I was when you called.”

“Did he hear everything?”

“No, he was asleep in the back until I stopped the vehicle. Then he just woke up and hopped out without a word.”

“Oh.” You pause, and then joke, “Are you drinking jobi nut tea now?”

“No, never again. Though, Bree did try to get me to come dance with her.”

“Huh. Interesting.” 

You feel a flash of jealousy, which Bellamy seems to sense, because he laughs, “Put your knife away, spitfire. I told her there’s only one girl in the world that I want to dance with and she’s currently stuck on an island so I’d have to decline.”

“Good.”

“Don’t think you can distract me from your earlier dilemma with your jealousy though. What happened? Is Emori alive?”

“Emori’s alive because we never tested her.”

“So you spoke up and stopped them? I knew you’d do the right thing.”

“Not exactly.”

You hear suspicion creep into his voice. “What do you mean, ‘not exactly’?”

“I mean, I injected myself with the Nightblood before they could give it to Emori and Clarke used the other vial on herself so they couldn't use that one either. But then mom got upset and said she saw a vision of us dying and she refused to let us run the tests so she smashed the radiation chamber and now there’s nothing left to do now.”

You say the words in a rush, the sentences coming out like one long word, and Bellamy calls out, “Woah, woah, woah, back up. You did what?”

“Injected myself with Nightblood.” You can hear him take in a sharp breath, and you feel a lecture coming, so you cut him off, “But you told me to do the right thing and do the hard thing, so I did!”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it.”

You can hear the scolding tone in his voice, and it makes you roll your eyes a little, his protective nature a little too protective at times. Not that you’d tell him that, because even at times like this, you appreciate it. “I know, but it doesn't matter anyways. Mom smashed the chamber so there’s no way to test it. It looks like the radiation really is going to kill us all, and we just have to accept it.”

Bellamy holds the button on his radio down to answer, but at the same time, the other radio in the Chancellor’s office comes to life, Kane’s voice frantically calling through. “Arkadia, come in, Arkadia do you copy?”

Bellamy keeps the button held down so you can faintly hear him answer, “Kane? It’s Bellamy, is everything okay? Harper told me you went to Polis.”

“We found it, Bellamy. We found the Second Dawn bunker.”

The air leaves your body in a rush, as you stare at the radio in shock. A smile comes over your face, and you laugh in disbelief, repeating the cult’s motto, “From the ashes, we will rise.”

-

next chapter

[whothehellisyn]

Cat and Mouse | Ch. 4

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Mysterio x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ (full fic)

Chapter Warnings: none

AN: oh my god I can’t believe I haven’t uploaded in so long. I’m still writing this but more for my own personal consumption. Tenses get mixed a lot in my brain and this is definitely not beta read. I have no clue where I’m going with the story but I’m about four chapters past this one with stuff!

The rest of dinner passes in quick silence. Louis, paid not nearly enough to deal with the two of you, looks slightly relieved when he delivered the bill to you. When you hand him back the booklet you slip in a £100 note. He seems confused, and you urge him to take it with an insistence that it’s an American custom. Quentin is watching you with an unreadable expression the entire time. You pretend not to notice.

A black SUV is waiting outside for you and Quentin. He motions for you to enter first, and you seat yourself as close to the opposite window as you could to avoid being near him. He sits in a relaxed position, making small talk with his driver. As you watch the buildings blur by in the window you tune out the rest of the world, nestling into your thoughts about everything happening to you. Everything happening because of Quentin Beck.

You love him, though that’s not quite true, is it? You love Mysterio, the widower from another Earth. Who fiddles unconsciously with his wedding band when he’s reminded of his late wife, who has a deep and thoughtful stare when he recounts his grief. Who met your eyes when you recounted your own and said I understand your pain. This, is not that man. This is an actor, a stranger with his face. Is it possible to have loved an illusion worn by a villain yet loathe their very existence?

His laugh breaks your contemplation. It’s boisterous and genuine.

It pains you to hear it.

“Wendell, this is (Y/N).” He says, introducing you to the driver. Wendell is a man in his late fifties with greying hair. You can see the crown of his head where his hair is wearing thin.

“Ah, so this is the SHIELD agent you snagged, hm?” Wendell muses. He meets your eyes through the rearview mirror. “It’s very nice to meet you, despite your circumstances.”

So he’s aware you’re trapped, you think, and doesn’t seem to care. Or maybe he can’t. You’d like to think Wendell is a nice man who is just afraid of Quentin. That seems like a good optimistic line of thinking.

Wendell pulls to a stop some time later in front of a warehouse on the harbor. It’s an unassuming place a ways away from town, the exterior is a bland mix of brown bricks and mortar. Nothing about it screams ‘villain dwelling’ to you, but you don’t discount the fact that Quentin is a master of illusions and probably gets off on boring real estate hiding his tech.

Wendell gets out of the driver’s seat to open your door and let you out. You don’t move, not wanting to go anywhere else with Quentin. Maybe if you’re still enough, you hope, you’ll cease to exist entirely.

Wendell leans into the car to keep Quentin from hearing him, “My heart breaks knowing you don’t belong here, Miss.” You look away to keep from crying, but he knows you’ve heard him. “I wish I could take you far away from here and still be safe from him but...” He’s trapped too.

Wendell swallows nervously and looks over the roof of the car for Quentin. “Mr. Beck is waiting for us. If you don’t go now, he’ll come and get you himself.”

Reluctantly, you take off your seatbelt and slide out of the vehicle. Wendell gets the door behind you and hangs back as you approach Quentin. You can’t blame him, really.

Once you get to the door, Quentin places his hand at the small of your back and pushes you closer to him. You feel hyperaware of his touch as he “guides” you into the building and down a corridor. You imagine his hand burning through your shirt and leaving a pink handprint on your skin, or maybe his finger tips being barbed with poisoning spines. It’s just a hand. But it’s his hand.

You pass by a large room, filled with people you don’t know. Many sit at computers, and you can see a dismantled drone on a table. A few people meet your eyes and then quickly avert them, almost like they know who you are despite them being strangers. You wonder if Quentin has talked about you to them.

After walking through two more corridors, Quentin stops at a room with a heavy looking metal door. He places his hand on an interface next to the threshold and the heavy metal door swings open into the room.

“Look familiar?” Quentin asks, pushing you inside. As the door slams shut behind you, you realize what he means. You’ve been here before. All this time, that “hotel suite” he took you to was right here all along. Another illusion.

He take his hand off your back and leaves you in the middle of the room to pull clothes out of a large duffle bag on the bed. They’re your clothes, at least mostly. A lot of it are your comfort clothes, sweats and tank tops and t-shirts. He also starts pulling out your underwear and bras, casually laying them out in organized stacks. He looks back at you and, noticing your expression, gives you an incredulous stare.

“What, did you think I was going to make you wear the same dirty clothes every day?” You don’t respond and just stare back. Quentin looks annoyed but continues, “I do have some sense of decency, believe it or not. And regardless of that, I would prefer to fuck you without being reminded of the last time I did.”

You grimace at the remark. You think about how you have little tender spots along your thighs from the clones gripping your legs so hard, and the soreness in your shoulder from Quentin twisting your arm behind your back. The sheer stupidity of his statement when you’re the one who bears the reminders makes you snort, and he picks up on it immediately. He abandons the clothes on the bed to walk over to you, only a few centimeters from touching with his body.

“Was something funny?” He asks, voice vaguely threatening. You instinctively avert your eyes to the floor as he waits for your response. “I’ll ask you again,” He grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, his grip firm. “What’s so funny about what I said?”

Your eyes are wide with fear as you struggle to muster the courage to speak. “Come on, sweetheart,” He says, tilting your face up further with his hand, “I know that pretty little mouth of yours works just fine.”

You blink rapidly, tears welling up as he continues to stare into your eyes. He really is nothing like the man you love. When you try to form an answer your voice stutters and all that comes out is a sharp little whimper, which makes you want to cry even more out of shame. Quentin smiles wickedly at you, enjoying your difficulty to speak.

“It’s not so funny now is it?” He asks. You shake your head no and a tear falls onto your cheek from the movement. Quentin swipes it away with his thumb on his free hand and leans in close to your face. “That’s what I thought.” He releases your chin and goes back to taking your clothes out of the bag. You still don’t move, but you do wipe your eyes once his back is to you.

After he empties the bag, he checks his wrist display and points towards the metal door.

“That door is reinforced steel. It weighs over three hundred pounds and is powered by hydraulics. If you try to mess with the interface, I’ll know. If you try to damage the door, or break the door, I’ll know. And not only will I know when you’ve tried to escape, I’ll be forced to punish you for it.”

You know that his use of the word “forced” is bullshit, and anything he inflicts on you is completely chosen for his own pleasure. You watch as he presses his hand to the interface on this side of the wall, and the door groans open yet again.

“I have to go work now, honey.” Quentin says, almost like he doesn’t want to leave. “Behave yourself like a good girl while I’m gone.” With that, he exits and the heavy door slams shut behind him. For this first time in over 28 hours, you are alone. After you’re sure he’s gone, and not listening on the other end, you let yourself cry for the first time since everything has started.

Tears begin to stream from your eyes as you walk past the bed and into the bathroom. The large mirror behind the sinks reveals your disheveled appearance, and the shock finally wears off as you realize just how awful everything is. You look pathetic. Your clothes are filthy and torn in various places, and your hair is a rat’s nest. You begin to sob, just a little, and as you cry you go over to the glass-door shower and start the faucets. The water is just a little too hot but you don’t care, and you begin to strip with your back to the mirror. You don’t want to see yourself anymore right now.

The dirty clothes go directly into the trash can in the corner, and you step into the shower and huddle under the too-hot water. It hurts, but it feels cleansing to hurt this way. There’s soaps in there but they smell like Quentin, and so you just let the water rinse you off. When you get as much of the grime off you as you can, you sink to the floor and hug your knees tightly. If you close your eyes, you can pretend this is your shower back in your apartment. You can pretend that you just had a bad day at work and you’re showering to forget about it. You rest your head against your knees, close your eyes, and you pretend. You’ve always been good at that.

An hour later the hot water runs out and you’re forced to get up and turn off the faucet. You’re not clean but you’re definitely not dirty anymore. After a search through the cabinets, you find the towels and grab one to dry off your body with, using a second one on your head. Once you’re dry enough you grab some of your clothes off the bed and get dressed in the toilet area that’s walled off from the rest of the bathroom.

Dressed and somewhat clean, you’re exhausted. You can’t bring yourself to sleep in the bed, or even touch the blankets. Quentin sleeps there, you know that much already. You used to sleep there too, before. There’s no way in hell you’re sleeping in that thing now when it’s the only place Quentin could sleep as well. There’s a large tub in the bathroom, and you decide that’s as good a place as any. Armed with a pillow you took from a sofa in the common area of the suite and a blanket from the linen closet in the bathroom, you climb into the bathtub and create a makeshift bed. It’s not very comfortable, but it feels safe. You remember hearing from a classmate years ago that people hide in bathtubs during tornadoes and earthquakes, and wether that’s true or not you find that to be good enough for you.

Sleep comes quickly despite your sleeping arrangement. You have an incredibly vivid dream, about walking through a meadow. You can almost feel the wind on your skin, and your eyes squint in the sunlight. Bees drone sweetly as they fly by you as if in greeting. There’s a little boy a few hundred meters in front of you, toting a bundle of flowers in his arms. You feel yourself call out to him, as if you know him well, but you can’t place him in your memories.

A soft touch stirs you, and you can feel your body being carried and then settled again. You’re warm and comfortable, a weight being pulled over you.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” A voice says. “Go back to sleep for me.” Okay, you think.

You return to the meadow, the little boy close but far, and the softness of the long grass tickling your fingers.

[lovemesomesurveys]

What may I call you?  Stephanie or Steph.

Where are you right now, exactly?  In my room on my bed.

Over or under 18?  I’m well over 18.

Have you been watching the Stanley Cup play-offs? (GO BRUINS!)  No.

Ever believed your house was/is haunted? If yes, why; what happens? Nah.

The building you live inside; how long ago was it built? I think early 80s.

Ever travel internationally?  I’ve been to Mexico once.

If you could go anywhere RIGHT NOW, where would it be? And why? I don’t want to go anywhere RIGHT NOW. 

Do you fancy someone currently? Tell me about them!  No.

Ever have a big ol' crush on someone you've never met in person? If so, did you ever tell them you did? Well, on celebrities.

What makes you feel luxurious? I don’t feel luxurious.

Do you enjoy drinking scotch as much as I do?  I don’t enjoy drinking scotch at all. Or any alcohol.

What have you done that makes you proud of yourself? Meh.

What makes you envy someone? Someone who seems to have their life together. I know everyone has their struggles and hardships, but there’s people who manage to push through and handle things better. They’re able to function still and are doing something with their life. I envy people who despite their hardships have a strong, positive, can-do attitude. I envy people who are passionate about things and do what they love. I envy talented, creative, and intelligent people. 

For you, is jealousy something that makes you more sad or angry-feeling? Depends.

Do you get the munchies?  Natural munchies sometimes.

Every been to Germany? If so, what part? Nope.

Do you buy newspapers just for the puzzles? No, I don’t buy the newspaper for any reason.

Describe any tattoos or piercings you may have...? I just have my earlobes pierced. 

When's the last time you smacked someone's butt? (Or been smacked :P) I don’t do that.

Do you enjoy making art? If so, what's your style like?  I don’t make art, but I like to color.

Were you a shy child? Very. Now I’m a shy adult.

Ever wanna run away with the circus?  Uh, no.

What is the closest object to your feet right now?  My feet are near the edge of the bed and my bedside table is nearby.

Reach behind you- do you feel anything? What is it?  My pillow.

Is English your second language? No.

Have you ever designed and constructed your own clothing? No.

What's the very last digit in your phone number?  Nah.

Is your house an odd or even number? Odd.

Do you have a favorite superhero? Who? Iron Man, Spiderman, Star Lord, Ant-Man.

What power would you like to receive, if given the option?  >>I don’t know. The power of brain that work good. <<< Ha, yeah that would be nice.

Ever punch someone in the nose?  No. Or at all.

...will you write me a haiku? Nope.

What was the last thing that really delighted you? Hmm.

Do you wear skin-colored clothes?  I have a pair of pantyhose that are like the color of my skin.

Ever eat German cuisine? If so, what'd ya have? No.

Do you have conversations with any animals?  I always talk to my doggo.

Do you have a little sibling? If so, are you protective of her/him?  Yes.

Recommend me a good book? I don’t know what you like.

Can you sleep on your back? (I can't, I feel too vulnerable!)  I can, but I prefer to sleep more on my side.

What's the last special thing you did for someone? (Buy, cook, etc.) Hmm.

Did you cook something today? If so, what was it?  Ramen.

Ever baked ALL day? No.

Can you recognize the smell of death?  Gahhhh, I’ve smelt dead rodents.

Ever known a mortician or a coroner?? (Now you do!) No.

What makes you feel good about yourself? Nothing?

Could you ever be some type of counselor for kids/teens?  No. Funny how that’s actually what I wanted to do for a long time when I was younger.

Do you enjoy getting dressed up for no real reason? No.

What are you afraid of?  A lot of things.

Ever been to a maximum security prison? You, or just visiting?  No.

Do you think mint toothpaste is too minty?  I use a light minty one for sensitive teeth.

How is a raven like a writing desk? I still haven’t figured that one out.

Are you currently eating or drinking something? If so, what? I’m finishing up my Starbucks energy drink. 

Do you own striped socks? What colors are your favorite ones?  No.

Black Metal ist Krieg. Agree or Disagree? >>  I had to Google that and apparently that’s a name of an album of a metal band, but I’m guessing you’re asking if I think black metal “ist krieg”, which for me no it’s not my thing.

Are there any numbers that have significance to you?  The number 8.

Do you know how to read palms or tarot or anything else like that?  I don’t believe in those things.

Do you own any bones or other preserved organic ..things? Unfortunately not. Accepting all bone donations. <<< That made me chuckle for some reason lol. I’m lacking those things as well. Well, I do own the bones in my body...

What do you think about internet piracy?  I can’t say I’ve never partaken... I haven’t in several years, though. 

Do you know anything about Nordic runes?  No.

How do you feel about children?  They can be cute and they can be annoying, ha. 

Whatcha looking forward to right now? Summer being OVER. This triple digit heat wave needs to goooo. We’ve had power outages the past couple times and it will probably happen all this week, too. D:

How do you feel about clowns?  I like Pennywise.

Are any of your friends clown by profession? I’m a clown. I majored in clownery. 

Do you put grated cheese on popcorn?  I’ve never tried that.

Do you thing anyone ever actually gets in trouble for having milkcrates?  What? Why would they get in trouble for that?

Do you tip street performers? (YOU SHOULD.) Not usually. I didn’t ask them to be there, I have no obligation to them. I’ll do it if I feel moved to (and if I happen to have cash, which is the other important variable here). <<< “I didn’t ask them to be there” hahah I love your answers.

What are your virtues/morals?  Ya know, stuff like honesty, being loyal, taking responsibility for your actions, being tolerant of differences, treat others how you wish to be treated, forgiveness, no cheating, respect, don’t commit murder, don’t steal.... stuff like that.

What do you smoke, if anything? I don’t.

Does being an addict make someone a bad person, in your opinion?  No.

Have you ever experienced any type of detox? No.

Ever been institutionalized? ...was it because of just one pepsi?  No. And I don’t get the Pepsi thing?

Tie up, or be tied up?  Neither.

Ever shoot a gun that wasn't a handgun? Rifle, shotgun, etc? No.

Is your mother a really cool lady? Yes, she’s awesome. Everyone loves her.

Ever suddenly find a friend very attractive but had to keep it to yourself?  I’ve liked a few of my guy friends, but I told them.

What time is it right now? 7:35AM.

Last time it's rained? I think back in April. Feels like forever ago. 

Ever been through a deadly natural disaster? No.

What do you do when you lose power?  Ugh, we’ve had that happen the past 2 days during the hottest time of day. It’s been high triple digits and inside my house has been 90 degrees, 92 when the power goes out. D: It’s horrible. I go and get my little battery fan and a wet washcloth and mess around on my phone and/or talk to my family until it comes back on. And complain about how hot it is.

Do you have a boot fetish too?  No.

Have you ever done home-repair stuff? No.

Reason you last used a knife?  I eat my spaghetti with a fork and knife.

Ever tattoo or pierce yourself? What, and how did it turn out?  Nooo. I’d be terrified to get either one done, I certainly couldn’t do it to myself.

Have you ever assisted in a birth? No.

Have you ever had a bad trip?  I’ve had a bad weed trip before and an actual trip.

Do you ever yell at your TV/computer/video games? Ha, yeah. Maybe not yell, but definitely talk back to it or comment out of frustration.

How long do you take in the shower? 30-40ish minutes.

If you could ask someone ONE thing & get 100% honesty, what would you ask? I don’t know.

What's the best thing you've ever found in a thrift/second hand shop? I don’t go thrift shopping.

What's one skilled craft you like to learn? Uhhh.

How do you feel about magicians? It can be pretty cool to watch. Some are really clever.

What do you smell like right now?  I smell my laundry detergent on my clothes. 

Tell me about the last person that made you laugh. He’s intelligent, funny, and cool.

Who was the last person to really make you feel special? It was nice receiving birthday comments from family and various people on social media and the birthday gifts from my family.

[wearejustvisiting]

I wrote something!!!!!!!!!!

It has 2,990 words! 

It’s an actual story! 

With original characters!!!!!

I don’t know if it’s good, this is the first draft, but I’m excited and I want to share it with you!

It’s called ‘Gina and the Rain Fish’, it’s about this character named Gina who I’ve been developing for years. 

Gina Brennan blinked lazily, staring out of the glass sliding door that separated her from the rain pouring down from the bewilderingly gray skies. Rain on the shore of lake superior was different than rain anywhere else in the country, Gina figured. Not only did the sky go gray, but the entirely lake was a sickening black-green, and the beach itself reflected the gray of the sky. The only things that weren't turned gray were the trees too low to get wet, or the houses too bright to be anything else.

Gina absolutely hated the rain. It meant she couldn't sneak into the lighthouse, she couldn't go to the roof, she couldn't even climb trees. And what is life in the woods if you can't even climb a tree or two? Rather boring, if you asked Gina. It being the weekend meant the 14-year-old had nothing better to do with herself, so why bother doing anything but waiting for the rain to stop?

“Ugh...it just goes on forever...” lamented Gina, to no one in particular.

“It's been thirty minutes,” answered Gina's father from the second floor, sat at his computer, “It'l be plenty dry tomorrow, birdie.”

“I wonder if an oak sturgeon is out there...” Gina said, looking up to the staircase as she heard her father coming down.

Gina's father came down, speaking in a rush as his big glasses reflecting the gray sky from the windows, “Gina, you are not going out in this weather to look for sturgeon.”

Gina rolled her eyes, her own glasses falling onto her eyes as she crossed her legs, “Dad, I wouldn't have to go any further than the beach! You'd see me the whole time, just...just a quick walk, that's all!”

“No.” Gina's father said, his arms at his hips, “This rain is only going to get worse, and the wind is going to pick up.” He said, walking down to the coat rack by the door.

“Why do YOU get to go out, then?” Asked Gina, crossing her arms and pushing her back into the couch.

“Not that I get to,” her father replied, pulling a large orange jacket off of the coat rack, “Have to. Paul said the waves are gonna get bad, and I'm the one with the keys to the boat door. So I've gotta go unlock it. Then I'm gonna take my shift early.”

“Wait, what?” Gina beamed, getting up, “I could go with you! We could go together, you know I've always wanted to look in there, and maybe you could teach me how the doors work, and-”

“Regina, NO.” Her father quickly put an end to Gina's new found enthusiasm, “Maybe some other time, but not today.”

“Why not?” Asked Gina, indignant, her eyes squinting at her father, “you do it all the time, you always go out in the rain and the wind and-”

“REGINA,” Her father bellowed out, his eyes wide and his face stern, his angry expression not hidden well by his short graying beard, “It's done.” He said.

Very few things could tip the temper of Gina's father, but one of those things was his daughter's safety. Gina knew that he didn't mean anything hurtful by it. That he was just looking out for her, and that his yelling about this meant that she would be in serious danger…but it was rare for her father to yell. The sound of it was still jarring to her.

Gina just nodded gently, looking down, “...okay, dad...”

Gina's father walked closer to her and hugged her. “I'm sorry, Birdie. It's just...” Her father bent down to look at her face, “The storm's going to get bad. The wind is gonna be a mess...” He said.

“yeah, yeah, I...I get it, dad.” Gina said, sighing, “just...I can take care of dinner tonight.”

“I just don't want to-”

“To lose me like you lost mom, I GET it.” Gina said, slowly backing away from her father, “We've been through this a million times.”

Gina's father looked to her, a sad expression, once again visible through his beard. He went to the door silently, opening it, the sound of rain splatting to the ground apparent.

“I'll be back around midnight.” He said, before leaving the house and shutting the door behind him. He was gone. At least, for now.

As she heard her father drive off, Gina stormed upstairs to her room. She avoided looking at the pictures on the wall, the ones of her mother...she'd seen plenty of pictures of her mother two years ago when she went missing, and even more pictures when she was found on Mackinac island. Gina's father had a bad habit of holding onto memories.

Gina flopped down on her bed, facing the plum purple ceiling. The dark walls and dark skies provided little light, but Gina didn't need it. Every drop of rain tapping her window was a reminder. She hated this kind of weather. The cold was fine, and rain was lovely, but rain this hard and cold this bitter weren't good for walking. And the wind was picking up...not the most assuring noises. Gina assumed, at this point, it wouldn't be long until…

The power went out.

“UGH! THIS SUCKS!” Gina threw her pillow at the wall as she bent over digging for a flashlight. She figured she might as well get some reading done while she was here…

Edmund Bjornson's Guide to Amadic Creatures...Gina must have read this whole thing 100 times. It was a gift from her grandfather. But she read it anyways. All the newer books were downstairs, and she didn't really want to bother. She turned to the page on Oak Sturgeon, hoping to glean some information she'd forgotten.

“The Northern Lake Oak Sturgeon is a large megafauna inhabiting the northern lakes of the North America and Western Europe. While they look similar to Great White Sturgeon, it is important to note that healthy Oak Sturgeon are a brighter hue of white than most Great White Sturgeon. The Oak Sturgeon is most likely brighter in coloration due to its lack of natural predators; even humans have trouble hunting them, as they are considered extremely dangerous. Oak Sturgeon prefer cooler weather, and are often seen by the surface when it rains heavily, though there is no known reason for this behavior. Because of this behavior, the Oak Sturgeon is commonly known to many as a Rain Fish or Rain Whale.”

Gina happened to glance out of her window, out at the lake. The rain was pouring harder and harder, and the sky was darker. It was as if someone had said something about the storm, and it was responding with anger. Gina, somehow, looked past that...and saw it.

The large pale mass in the water, near the surface...it was massive, at least the size of a school bus. Gina forgot what her father said, as well as managing to forget the weather….she quickly threw on her hiking boots, a pair of black cargo pants, wool gloves, a thick black sweater, and threw a large orange coat over that. She grabbed a plain green ballcap and put it on her head, stuffing her thick, wavy, sepia hair into her jacket.

As Gina got downstairs, she ignored the power flickering back to life, as she grabbed a pocketknife and her camera, putting a bit of a protective case her father had made her around it. Just a plastic shield, for the rain. Gina promised herself she would only stay on the hill above the beach. No closer. She promised...she ran to the door and opened it, shutting it behind her.

The wind was the first thing that hit her. Smashing into her like a wall, the wind was loud and coarse. Then, the cold, like little splinters hitting her face, soon turned to a large mass finding its way into every space of her clothing that it could to get to her body. Last, the biting rain, bad enough that she was glad her hat had a rim, and bad enough that she had to throw the thick hood of the jacket over said hat.

It was when she tried to walk that Gina knew this wasn't her best moment. The wind was whipping hard, and it was hard to move forward, but if that Sturgeon did what she thought it would this close to the shore, she knew she had to be there to document it. No one believed her when she said it, but she knew…

She knew those things could jump. And she was gonna get a picture.

Gina got to the beach, the massive waves bearing down on the beach as she got closer. She huffed, finding it hard to breathe through the amount of rain falling down. She was constantly using her gloves to wipe her glasses as she got to the wet, packed sand. She looked out on the lake, now big and black and terrifying in its size and speed. It moved like an angry, wretched beast. As if it wanted to consume Gina in her entirety. Gina saw not the white breakers, but gnashing teeth ready to swallow her whole if she got to close. She was dumb enough to go on the beach in this weather, but not stupid enough to get that close…

Until she caught sight of the white mass in the water, moving faster...she knew it it was going to happen, it was going to be soon. She grabbed her camera, getting prepared. She could have just done this from inside. She could have just waited for a day where the wind wasn't so strong that the sand was blasting her in the face. But she was out here now, and she was closer to the water than she should have been.

Gina had broken her promise to herself big time. Now her toes were getting licked by the surf as she followed what she swore was a fin. She snapped a photo, just a picture of the fin and back of one would be worth keeping. She followed it. “Come on,” she whispered to herself, “Jump for me...jump...” She said.

She huffed, coughing and sputtering after having breathed in some water from the lake as it splashed near her. The water was rising. She didn't care. “Come on...jump...jump!” She got the camera ready as she saw the fin disappear into the water…

“Jump for me….please?”

As if on cue...The Oak Sturgeon rocketed out of the water, straight up, and fell back into the water. Gina got a few pictures, including one of it spearing into the air out of the water. She couldn't contain her excitement, jumping and dancing, jumping almost as high as the Sturgeon did. She laughed, waving her arms, her eyes closed in joy…

Then, she looked at the water...and there were those gnashing teeth.

Ready to chomp down and devour her…

“Gina?” Her mother beckoned from downstairs. “There's a surprise for you down here!”

An eleven-year-old Gina Brennan walked down the stairs. Her birthday had just passed, and she was still clutching her favorite present to her as she walked down. Edmund Bjornson's Guide to Amaldic Creatures had been gifted to her by her grandfather that year. But her mother promised that she'd be getting a gift from her this year as well.

“What is it?” Asked Gina, still a bit miffed that her mother's promise had yet to be fulfilled.

“Look!” Gina's mother held up a cardboard box, shaking it a bit. “It's your present. Came in the mail today.”

Gina beamed, taking the box. She hugged her mother tightly, “Thanks mom!”

“Wait until you open it first! You might not like it, it was Dad's idea.” Her mother whispered, jokingly.

“I heard that!” Gina's father interjected, to the delight of all present...”Go on, Birdie, open it up!” He said. “And...happy birthday.”

Gina ignored her father's hand ruffling her hair as she opened the box, gasping as she saw what was inside. “Oh my gosh!”

Gina lifted the box out of its package...a beautiful camera…

Gina's father spoke, “I know you like taking pictures, and I just figured you'd like to have your own. And to stop stealing mine.”

Gina put the box onto the couch next to her and turned around, hugging both her mother and father. “This is the best present ever!” She said, laughing as her parents hugged her tightly.

Her mother smiled, getting to eye level with Gina. “Now Gina, you promise to be careful with this? Make sure that it doesn't get damaged too badly?”

“Promise, mom.” Gina eeked out, beaming. She could barely talk when she was excited, trying her hardest not to whoop and holler so close to her mother's ear.

Gina's father clapped his hands together, “I bet you I could make something that'll waterproof that camera, but don't get it wet right now, alright?”

“I know, dad!” Gina mocked, hugging him fully and tightly. She then turned to the box, lifting it and rubbing the top of it.

“I promise to take good care of you...and to use you to capture unknown animal behavior so we can become FAMOUS!” She said. “...and I promise not to fully submerge you, even IF dad makes me that waterproof caseamathing, because that would just be rude.”

Gina opened her eyes...bleary...she couldn't see. Her glasses were gone. She rubbed her eyes, breathing heavily as she tried to regain her composure. All she felt was a biting, bitter cold. She dug her hands into the sand, blinking. She could see right in front of her, and the vague bleary outline of her house. She dug her left, then her right, then her left, then her right…

Her camera. It was missing. She couldn't find it, even looking back. She saw a black splotch floating in the water...and she stood up, letting a wave toss it to her. Gina grabbed her camera, falling on her back as she was once again knocked over by the wave.

She used her legs to push herself back away from the water, still too cold to bring herself to her feet. The rain was slamming into her, as if it were a million tiny daggers piercing every pore it hit. She slowly got to her feet, clutching the camera as a mother clutches a child, before walking in the direction of her home's outline.

Gina could barely feel. Hypothermia must have been setting in. She closed the door to her home and threw the clothes she was wearing off onto the brick floor of the foyer before taking a painfully hot shower to revive her dying nerves. It was painful. It was awful. She was sobbing. As every bit of scraped, scratched skin was hit with near scalding water, she felt every single cell of her body cry out in pain as it was brought from extreme cold to extreme heat.

But Gina Brennan lived. He sobs subsided, her weeping waned, her pain stopped. And for a brief moment, there in the shower, with the water off, there was nothing. No water. No rain. No sand. No cuts. No Sturgeon.

Just an aching silence. The kind Gina usually hated, but right now, loved more than anything. She stepped out, dried herself off, and dressed herself in black pajamas, sitting in her room with her camera and a spare set of glasses.

With her lights on, the decoration of the room was more apparent. Posters of bands and pictures of her and the places she'd been, anatomies of Amadic creatures on long posters in the room, and a flag on the ceiling, bearing the emblem for the organization which she wished to be part of some day; The Northern Department of Amadic Creatures…

Gina was focused on none of it. She was focused only on her camera...it would charge, and it would turn on. But how did the memory fare? Was she able to actually pull pictures from it? Was she able to see the proof of what she knew was true?

Gina's face rose into a large beaming grin as she saw the pictures on the screen of her computer...she couldn't help but do a little happy dance in her chair, despite the fact that she was definitely in pain. She laughed a moment, then sighed, looking at the pictures…

She paused. She knew they were there, and she knew she could see them...they were real. They were there. And yet...she looked at her hands, scraped from sand and water, once near frozen, brought to near burning. She sighed as she looked at them. Were those pictures worth it? Was being right really worth the pain she'd put herself through? Forty-five seconds of joy for nearly an hour and a half of misery and pain?

She slowly rose out of her chair, looking out of the window. It was Nine at night. Gina hadn't eaten, but she figured at this point dad wouldn't be too disappointed if she just ordered a pizza and left it at that.

Gina hid her clothes, wincing when she touched them with her raw hands. Walking to the ground floor of the house, she stowed her clothes away near the laundry, where she'd deal with it later. She slowly made her way back to the living room, stretching and cracking her joints before gripping the phone and sitting at the couch.

Before Gina ordered, she looked out of the glass sliding door...the wind died down, and the rain had become a drizzling pitter-patter on the glass once more. She looked, for a long while, out to the lake. It seemed it had calmed down.

The lake had won this fight, and it was satisfied.

And as Gina thought of what to order, she looked to the lake, and realized that despite losing, she was satisfied as well.

[soysaucevictim]

Busy, busy, busy... also this post is hella long.

-

Aug. 20

I woke up around 8AM today.

I was picked up by a new/different transport service than before. Got out there in a rush, because I didn’t get up at an ideal time.

Since I was earlier to the facility and bored before group, I decided to go into the TV Room and continue sorting the VHS cassettes. Felt productive, but worked up a little sweat going up and down.

Seeking Safety went alright. I did the DD afterwards, 30 raised leg push-ups with EC... twice. I mis-remembered it as 15/15, not alternating. Pffft. :P

Then I got a chance to replace my cell. Here’s to hoping it won’t be a giant headache. But it was a thing in the anxiety BG noise to deal with, and this was needed.

Got home, did some dishes, made dinner (a bit cranky, but I’m just tired), BS’D, and did the rest of my exercise.

First, Day 10 of the PO!C. 200 overhead punches, done in one go. I alternated sides with each rep. I started feeling it by the last ~50-100 reps.

Second, Day 10 of the CoSC. 2x40″ calf raise holds. Only rested ~10″. Doable, despite being overtired.

Last, Day 10 of the 30DoY. Nice upright/standing sequence. Love the tree pose, but I did get some awkward tension in my left ankle doing them. Might not’ve been as attentive of form for that, but still, good work!

-

Aug. 21

I got up a bit after noon.

Did a bit of the usual stuff, overate and was groggy for a few hours. Was roped into playing more rummy with the family. (I won twice and grandma won once... wasn’t Dad’s day, it would seem.)

I then did my exercise.

First, today’s DD. 20 pop-up tripods with EC. Very fatiguing, especially the last half, taking a bit of digging deep to get through that! Ooof. :P

Second, Day 11 of the PO!C. 240 punches, bounce-switching every 20, and done in one go. Fun and breezy.

Third, Day 11 of the CoSC. 110 calf raises, split into 2x55. I believe I had to rest ~20″ in between. Doable, but tougher than throwing those punches!

Last, Day 11 of the 30DoY. Okay. I liked MOST of this sequence. Except TWO of the exercises. One being that hollow hold, because I never much cared for ‘em (neck strain). The OTHER was that SHOULDER STAND. Okay. The BIGGEST issue was space negotiation during the transitions (and the position of my computer, in relation to my body).

I knew I would have to do those with wall assist (did it one foot on wall at full extension). I have never done a handstand/etc before.

See how MOST of the positions have the legs splayed out at or near full extension (like that hollow hold)? That meant my upperbody was pretty damn far away from the wall. So I had to waste like 5-10″ just getting up to one.

And then I had to scramble toward getting to the fullest expression I could in ~5 more seconds. Which is hairy because you have to also mind how much pressure your head/neck is getting, during the 5-10″ left of the interval. It’s something I honestly don’t feel comfortable rushing to get into and out of. (Hell - it’s the reason I kinda swore off doing plows anymore.) orz

Now you have to lose ~5″ to getting down and extending into corpse pose. Which as a resting pose really feels hard to appreciate for only 10-15″, before repeating the sequence. :I

Now, If I COULD drop into said shoulder stand anywhere - a lot of that wouldn’t be an issue. Well, I’m glad I’ll only a have to do that one one more time in this program. And I think it’ll be way easier to negotiate from/to that knee hug before/afterwards.

-

Aug. 22

I woke up a bit before 7:30AM, today.

Got to the facility and worked on a composition sketch for a new project, I’m working on. Also spent some time doodling some of that Kefka art I recently posted. That and I listened to music, leading up to my WRAP Group - which went well enough.

I then did the DD (and a bit of socialization), before leaving the facility. 40 raised leg circles, with EC. I did this one while I was out at the facility again. Glad I remembered correctly how many to do - because that was tough! :U

Had a minor confusion about home-bound transit - but that smoothed out pretty quick.

Got home, updated a transportation reservation for next week (tripping over my words because tired), made some business arrangements, gave the ears some TLC, before a small-ish break (with the usual stuff).

I also did the rest of my exercise, kinda late.

First, Day 12 of the PO!C. 240 overhead punches, done in one go. I decided to go for 120/120 today - and oof. Last 20-40 reps on each side did get pretty intense!

Second, Day 12 of the CoSC. 2x40″ calf raise holds. I basically paused 3-10″ between sets. Manageable.

Last, Day 12 of the 30DoY. 10′ meditation. Since I got a lot of things done today - I felt a bit less fidgety.

-

Aug. 23

I woke up a bit after 11AM.

Did some more arrangements, poked the usual stuff, and did today’s DD (since today’s an active rest day, it’s the only exercise stuff I’m doing). 40 bridges with EC. This was very doable, but it did get more challenging near the end!

I then did some dishes, made some dinner, watched some Devilman Crybaby, while running some maintenance on my computer.

I needed to fix an issue involving my tablet settings- cursor disappearing on me intermittently. Blew a gasket until I figured what happened. Short of it, I think it was problems with Windows Ink.

But given I was frazzled and it was getting late. I didn’t get much else done.

-

Aug. 24

I woke up a bit after 10AM.

One of the first things I got done was today’s exercises.

First, today’s DD. 40 plank rotations with EC. This was pretty intense, had a few moments where my center was a bit off. But I managed to keep it for the whole duration. :P

Second, Day 13 of the PO!C. 260 punches, done in one go. I hop-switched at every 20 punches. Very fun and doable.

Third, Day 13 of the CoSC. 120 calf raises, split into 2x60. Rested probably ~20” in between. A bit tough, but doable.

Last, Day 13 of the 30DoY. The sequence was alright, I just don’t think my head was properly in the game. Got my cues a bit mixed up and only managed to get in a few seconds for the dancer pose on right foot (non-dominant side) - struggled to get my center stable enough to hold the expression very long today. Ah well, that’s how it is sometimes.

Spent some time with the usual, afterwards, before getting a commission done. Will be posting that when I get the green light.

-

Aug. 25

I woke up a bit before noon.

First, today’s DD. 2′ leg extensions (donkey kicks) with EC. I counted 83 reps by the time was up, and this was a fun exercise to do! :D

Second, Day 14 of the PO!C. 260 overhead punches, done in one go. I alternated with each punch and it did get pretty tough!

Third, Day 14 of the CoSC. 2x50″ calf raise holds. I rested about 10″ and this was pretty breezy still.

Last, Day 14 of the 30DoY. Oof, I had to make a few mods here. I think tiring my arms out from those overheads probably made things more challenging. I did the first upward dog proper - but after that I changed them out for cobras. Both push-up planks were sloppy - had to do the latter on my knees. Might have to do my punches AFTER plank-ish days like this one.

I then spent some time making some final touches/revisions on that commission (which I also just posted.) I did one pass through editing down the footage of me drawing it, too.

Remainder of night was spent on the usual.

-

Aug. 26

I woke up a bit before 11AM.

Did a second and final pass through video editing, before posting that footage today.

I then did my exercises for the day.

First, today’s DD. 1′ bicep extensions with EC. I'm going to count 74 reps, may've done more but unsure if that was an over-count. Anyways - another fun exercise!

Second, Day 15 of the PO!C. 300 punches, done in one go, bounce-switching at every 20.

Third, Day 15 of the CoSC. 130 calf raises, split into 2x65. Was getting to feel that - but it wasn’t too bad.

(After a break and a shower...)

Last, Day 15 of the 30DoY. 10′ meditation. Not a lot to say about this other than I believe it was pretty calming.

I kinda went to bed a bit later than usual - I felt compelled to share with pops a few history/political things. Glad though, that he was receptive and curious about said subjects (even if we jumped from Iran, to China, to Helen Keller and Woodrow Wilson... of all things.)

-

Aug. 27

I woke up a bit before 7:30AM.

Got to the facility, did the DD right away. 2′ palm strikes with EC. I got in 93 reps in the duration. The only thing that really hampered my pace was using my mp3 player as a timer, but it was no less fun! :D

Group went well enough. And I spent the rest of my time there doing some sketches and socializing (though, I admit I just didn’t get enough sleep and might not have been as great in communicating some stuff).

Once I got home and after I was able to put an order in for a bokken. Katana Week, here I come! (Well, after I’m done with current arrangements and the excitement is real!)

I was also roped into playing some cards. Dad won both games, which fair, since he didn’t win any the last time we played. Pffft!

I then spent a few on the usual, before getting in the rest of my exercise.

First, Day 16 of the PO!C. 300 overhead punches, split into 3x100. Rested ~20″ in between and alternated with each rep. A bit challenging, given my energy levels, but doable!

Second, Day 16 of the CoSC. 2x50″ calf raise holds. Rested only about 10″ again. Still very manageable.

Last, Day 16 of the 30DoY. I liked a good chunk of today’s sequence and felt generally good about my flow between each exercise (I loved the O, boat, and half lord of the fishes poses)! I did however pull a hamstring doing that single leg bridge variation - mostly because I felt to  shift the planted foots position while up. But I took care with the remaining exercises, sneaking a few moments to massage it when I could. I think we’re good!

-

Aug. 28

I woke up around 11AM, today. I got my exercise in pretty early, too.

First, today’s DD. 40 modified scissors with EC. I rather like this version of scissors - feels better in the hips and generally more fun!

Second, Day 17 of the PO!C. 340 punches, in one go, bounce-switching kind of inconsistently due to lack of focus (20-40, I believe.) Nevertheless, a perennial favorite!

Third, Day 17 of the CoSC. 140 calf raises, split into 2x70. Still very manageable work!

Last, Day 17 of the 30DoY. I appreciated that this was a gentler practice, today. I did mod that upward dog into a cobra because I kinda wanted to keep it chill. But all in all - I enjoyed myself a lot! =w=

The only other particularly productive things I got done were cancelling a reservation), doing dishes, and making dinner for the family.

Other than that - yeah. Same old business.

-

Aug. 29

I woke up around the same time as yesterday..

I determined that I would not be able to get to the facility, but did reschedule that appointment. Going to have to figure out my transportation stuff while some forms get dealt with. :/

After much of the usual, I did my exercise.

First, today’s DD. 2′ elbow clicks with EC. I counted 142 reps for the duration, but after the ~100 mark, elbows stopped being able to consistently make contact. The willpower game was real, but it was still fun!

Second, Day 18 of the PO!C. 340 overhead punches, split into 160+180.

Third, Day 18 of the CoSC. 2x1′ calf raise holds. I only dropped for ~5″ to reset the timer today. Very manageable!

Last, Day 18 of the 30DoY. 10′ meditation. My mind wandered to commission-related stuff. But I did try to stay focused on sensation of breath throughout the session.

I think I’m going to draw today, barring further distractions.

(Okay... I need to actually post this damn thing already.)

[softstraykidsimagines]

Ice cold

Summary: you meet a bright but peculiar boy who seems to have a talent for making everything but you feel cold.

Requested: no I got this idea when someone mentioned that Felix looked like Elsa (from Frozen)’s brother and I couldn’t resist

Pairing: Felix x reader

Genre: fluff, supernatural au

Format: bulletpoint because idek what I’m doing I just want this to be something quick and lighthearted

A/N: SOOOOOO FELIX HAS PLATINUM BLOND HAIR. Yup I’m quite dead. And because he looks so GODLY with that hair I just had to write a supernatural au

I hope you enjoy this! I really enjoyed writing it lol

Ahhh winter

The wonderful season of snowball fights, hot chocolate and cuddling by a fire

And freezing your ass off

Which is what you were doing, standing there in the middle of the street

You tried to warm your hands up by rubbing them together or blowing on them with a quick breath

Ye that didn’t work

Why were you dying of frostbite? You had no other possibility to get home except for waiting for a stupid bus that only passed every hour-and-a-half

You checked your watch again. Still 21 minutes to go.

Shit

You were going to be an icicle by the time the bus came, you were screwed.

“Hey, why so grumpy-lookin”, came a happy voice from behind you, making you jump.

There in front of you stood a young boy, who must have walked up in complete silence, staring at you with large and curious eyes

“I— umm—“ you stared at him speechless. He’s really cute

What stood out the most about the boy, that you couldn’t wrap your head around, was his silver-white hair, which seemed to mimic the whiteness of the world around you.

He smiled cheekily. “You look rather cold. Do you want something to warm you up?”

Your brain didn’t even register and compute what he said immediately. You were so slow from the cold. “Oh! Umm yeah, that would be great, thank you!” Any chance at not freezing to death was a chance you would take

You suddenly flinched and yelled as he flung himself at you, wrapping his arms around you. “What are you doing,” you yelped.

“I’m giving you a hug! Isn’t that obvious?” He sniggered. “Hugs always make people feel warmer”.

You were about to protest and push him off, ready to yell for help, when you suddenly started feeling warmth in your hands. Then your arms, upper chest and the rest of your body.

What the hell??

Soon you felt your temperature coming to a normal and near-comfortable level. You felt the boy chuckle

“So why are you out here,” he asked. “Are you trying to lose some limbs?”

“Of course not,” you snapped. “Im waiting for a damn bus to get home...”

“How far is ‘home’?” This kid is really curious

“About an hour by bus,” you huffed. “Where are you headed, mister...?”

“I’m Felix,” he giggled. “And I’m not really going anywhere! I’ll go where the wind wants to take me”. That’s it, he’s a total nut job

“Right”, you mutter, now realizing how closed the two of you still were. You pushed him off you gently, but as soon as his arms weren’t around your shoulders, you felt your body temperature drop like a stone.

You hugged yourself tightly, already feeling your teeth chatter. “What the hell?! What’s going on?”

Felix tilted his head to the side, like a puppy who was trying to understand an unknown command. What’s with him? “I told you, hugs always make people feel warmer!” He started thinking. “What if I got you home right now, in under 10 minutes?”

“Say what?” That wasn’t possible. It took an hour to drive home, so how could someone get you there in 10 minutes tops? What’s he smoking?

He seemed to read your mind. “Are you willing to trust me?” He looked at you with innocent eyes.

You sighed. He seemed to be trustworthy, but that wasn’t the case whenever he opened his mouth to talk. You could accept his suspicious offer and take the risk, or risk dying in the cold.

Eh what the hell, you had nothing to lose at this point.

“Alright, I’ll trust you”, you give up. “What do you propose?”

He smiled like a happy child. “Let me hug you, so that you won’t fall”.

You let him wrap his arms around your waist, and you snaked your arms behind his neck. You immediately felt your temperature rise again and Felix gave you a cheeky grin. Maybe this isn’t a good idea?

Too late

Before you could even take a breath to scream, you felt the ground disappear from under your feet as you both shot up into the sky. You held onto Felix tightly, the only anchor you had that reassured you that you weren’t dreaming. We’re going to die! We’re going to die!

Then you stopped in confusing. Felix was... laughing?

How could he be laughing when you were over 100 feet in the air?!

“Hey, Wind!! Calm down! This is a friend!! This is— uhh”. He looked at you. “What’s your name?”

“Y—y/n”, you stutter. “I’m heading to (your adress)”

Felix beamed. “There! You heard, Wind! Take us to (your adress) please!!!”

You screamed as a gust of powerful air pushed you in the direction of your home. How is this possible? You couldn’t believe what was happening.

You slammed your eyes shut, too scared to look at what was happening around you. You were close to whimpering, you didn’t enjoy being thrown around at a height that, if you fell, could break every bone in your body

“Hey... hey it’s okay”, Felix told you gently. “I got you. You can look if you want, the view is amazing...”

You slowly forced open one eye, then the other. You took a deep breath before turning around in Felix’s grip to look at what was before you.

You were stunned into total silence.

You could see your home, the whole area where you lived, stretching out in every direction beneath you. You could see everywhere you went from the superstore to your friend’s house. In the distance, past the dark grey clouds that plagued your home, you thought you saw the sun, setting and creating an assortment of warm colors, as the day came to an end

You let out a terrified but wonderous laugh. The view really is beautiful

Felix chuckled. “I can make this a hundred times more fun, watch this!” Before you could protest, you felt your stomach jump into your throat as you both plummeted to the ground

You were too terrified to scream. This is it, this is how I die...

“ICE RINK”, yelled Felix giddily. You looked under your feet to see a thick layer of ice between you and the deserted road.

You turned further around to see where the ice was coming from. WHAT THE HELL?

The ice was appearing out of nowhere in front of the two of you, as you both shot along the pavement.

Felix was laughing like an idiot the whole time. “How about a slalom?” The ice path suddenly curved from one side of the road to the other, then back again, before rising into the air and falling back to a normal level. He cackled with delight.

You started smiling too, feeling less horrified of what was happening. You kept a firm grip on Felix, trusting only him to keep you safe.

He noticed you relaxing a bit and instantly took the advantage. The ice over the road suddenly expanded until it covered every inch of the surface.

Felix started skating in random patterns (without skates) and pulling you along with him. “Look at us! We could be Olympic figure skaters!!” He laughed as you gritted your teeth, fighting the urge to yell in panic.

Just keep looking at him. You can keep your balance if you look at him, you thought

You locked your gaze with Felix’s, only trusting the kind look his deep eyes had as he stared back at you

You both stayed there, you don’t know how long. It felt like forever, the world seemed to spin in slow motion around you. Your heart beat loudly against your ribs, but it wasn’t from fear anymore.

Felix suddenly broke eye contact and yelped, before swerving out of the way of a lamppost. “Maybe that’s enough fun for one day”, he admitted.

You finally arrived in front of your home, your hair all messed up, eyes wide and legs shaking.

You kept your gaze glued on Felix as he looked your home up and down. “Nice place... you can let go, now”.

You had to mentally forced your fingers to loosen their grip and to step away from the silver-haired boy. “Th—thank you”, you say unsteadily. You don’t trust yourself to be able to talk properly for a while. “...Felix”

His eyes lit up when you said his name. He smiled charmingly at you. “It’s not a problem, y/n. Maybe I’ll see you wandering around in the freezing cold weather again soon?”

You nodded slowly, stepping away from him. The cold seeped back into your bones as the distance between you became larger. “You’re not a normal person, are you?”

He laughed. “What made you think that?” He shook his head. “I’m an ice bender. I can create, melt, and shape ice how I want to. I’m friends with the Wind, who helps me to travel. And I can control temperature levels within a certain distance of my body”.

You nodded. “That’s why I felt so warm while hugging you...”

He grinned. “Once again, hugs always make people feel warmer”.

You smiled back at him. “Maybe I’ll see you around then, Felix. I need a personal walking radiator for cold days”.

“I’m not a walking radiator”, he pouted. “I’m can control ice”.

“You’re like Jack Frost”

“Sort of, but way cooler”

You laughed. “Alright, then Felix Frost. I’ll see you around”

“See you, y/n”, he replied quietly as you walked through your front door, looking back for only a second before closing it with a bright blush on your cheeks

But Felix saw it, and it made him giggle as he bounced through the air, wherever the wind took him.

WOOHOO PLATINUM BLOND FELIX COMING TO SNATCH US ALL GNIGHT

[viviansternwood]

I LOVED the bellarke timeline, do you think you could do the same with murven ? xx

Omg, I love this question and it also kind of terrifies me. 

If you don’t know what timeline nonny is talking about, it’s this post. I can’t promise I’d be as good as Rosy because come on, but I’ll give this my best try.

I actually had to do some research for this because I don’t remember things that well, and rewatch all Murven scenes (thanks, youtube). But here it goes.

Season 1:

There were no interactions between Raven and Murphy in season 1 as far as I’m aware (correct me if I’m wrong), up until the moment he shoots her, thinking he’s shooting Octavia.

(More under the cut.)

Season 2:

When Murphy finds Raven dying in the dropship, she quite obviously hates his guts. It’s a good thing there was no ammo in her rifle because she would’ve shot him at that point. As he comes in, she stiffens because she thinks he’s going to do something to her, but visibly relaxes when he just sits down. He says, “Yeah, I would’ve shot me too,” which to me means he understands she hates him, isn’t surprised by it - in fact, I think he expected it because, after what he did, who wouldn’t hate him? - and he isn’t very bothered, since to him, it’s just another person on the long list of those who despise him;

I think it impresses Murphy when Raven says, “Speak for yourself” because she refuses to give up, and that’s something he can understand - that’s what he always does, keep fighting, at all cost. He smiles like maybe it makes him respect her in some way;

When he tells her he’s there because he doesn’t want to die alone, I think Raven softens up a little. She hates him as passionately as before, but loneliness and the feeling of being abandoned is something she can understand. She was quite literally abandoned by her people and especially by Finn (physically and emotionally, when he fell for Clarke) - she doesn’t know that they were taken, but to her then it must’ve felt like she was abandoned. In some way, they understand each other;

Murphy apologises for shooting her, but it doesn’t seem to be in earnest, just like something he knows he’s supposed to say, like it’s something he just wants to move past. He doesn’t empathise with her pain yet because he doesn’t know her, to him she was collateral damage in the whole argument with Bellamy. He probably wishes he didn’t shoot her but he doesn’t particularly beat himself up about it, at least not yet, because he doesn’t know her. We humans tend to empathise more with people whose story we know, whose personal struggles we’re aware of. To Murphy, Raven is just a stranger at that point, someone who just happened to get caught in the crossfire, quite literally;

Raven is the only person we’ve seen Murphy tell what happened to his parents (at least on screen), and that moment was crucial to their relationship, in my opinion. She doesn’t ask because she’s particularly interested in him as a person, but because she feels completely powerless and hates him with her whole soul and wants to hurt him in some way at least. That’s confirmed when she responds with, “Boo hoo,” to his confession, but her eyes soften. She must realise that there’s more to him than meets the eye, that just like her he hasn’t had an easy life at all, and - again, because she knows some of his story - she starts to empathise. She doesn’t forgive him, not anywhere near it, but she understands why he’s angry at the whole world. Because she is too. They all have their cross to bear, and by recognising that he has one as well, some of that anger she feels towards him slips away;

Murphy answers her question honestly not because she’s someone whose opinion he cares about, but because she’s in a pretty vulnerable position herself and so she can’t really do anything to him, but also because it’s probably the first time anyone actually asked him. He knows she doesn’t actually care about him or what happened to him, but maybe he wants to get it off his chest. Considering the sort of life he’s had, he probably never had the chance before;

Murphy is genuinely surprised when Raven doesn’t tell Kane and Abby who shot her, he definitely expected her to do it. But for some reason, Raven doesn’t, maybe because she understands his issues a little better or because she knows the law enforcement the Ark had - i.e. punishing first, and asking questions never - or maybe she acknowledges that the bullet wasn’t meant for her and Murphy never really had anything against her;

When Finn is wanted by the Grounders, she’s willing to sacrifice Murphy to save him, which, if you ask me, is a very Raven thing to do. She tortured Lincoln, literally shocked him, in season 1 because she was desperate at the prospect of losing Finn. He’s all she has, she’d give anyone up to save him. Which is why I don’t think Murphy holds it against her. I mean, he calls her a “sick bitch”, but he never brings that incident again, I don’t think. Because he understands the sort of love she has for Finn.

Season 3:

No interactions at all. Don’t know how we all survived.

Season 4:

By season 4, Raven clearly still resents Murphy, but to me it seemed like it was more because of him being useless to the group, and showing up only at moments when he couldn’t possibly survive on his own anymore. To me it didn’t seem particularly personal, just the sort of resentment she’d have for anyone in the same situation;

In Becca’s lab, Murphy thought that Raven still hadn’t forgiven him, he didn’t even expect her to (as he told Luna), and when she started beating him and insulting him, he wasn’t even surprised, he was just patiently listening to what she had to say, as if he always thought she would say those things to him and was just waiting for it to happen. He was hurt by those words, but didn’t dispute anything because in his eyes they were true. He didn’t resent her for saying any of that, he was more concerned with Raven’s well-being when she had that panic attack;

After the incident it was clear Raven felt guilty and thought he didn’t deserve that, but she didn’t want to apologise because they weren’t close enough for her to have the right to be concerned with his feelings. She just swallowed her guilt and got on with the things she needed to do;

Just like Luna, I don’t think it was Raven talking when she was beating and insulting Murphy. I think it was her vulnerability and the feeling of being powerless and inability to control her own mind and her health and just pretty much anything. And to me it seems like there’s nothing Raven hates more than feelings powerless. And had Murphy not shot her, maybe she would’ve never taken ALIE’s chip, and wouldn’t have had the issues she had with her brain. So anger and pain and sickness overpowered her rationality and she found the first available person to take it out on. And Murphy let her because in his mind, he deserved it;

Raven’s surprised when Murphy’s suggestions about a controlled crash landing and switching to manual proved useful. In a moment when she felt completely powerless and useless, Murphy believing in her without a shadow of doubt, 100%, was like a breath of fresh air (“So screw the computer. Fly it yourself,” i.e. I trust you and believe in you, and no computer can do the things you can do. Basically admitting she’s invaluable). She thanks him and from the way she looks at him differently, maybe she realises he’s not just a cockroach. Maybe he can be useful too;

When Raven calls his name and before she says “Thanks”, it seems like he was expecting her to say something mean to him again, and he seemed surprised that she thanked him. It seemed like maybe he didn’t actually think he deserved her thanks;

And then there’s the “goodbye” scene. The time when Murphy sincerely apologises for shooting Raven back in season 1. Not because she’s going to die or because he needs something from her or there’s no one else to talk to, it’s because he wants her to know that he’s sorry. That he’s been haunted by what he did to her and he can’t forgive himself. Raven is surprised by him bringing it up because her saying “Do you know what it feels like to be in pain every day?” wasn’t a blow at him, it was a justification to her decision to stay behind and die. In her eyes, he’s been forgiven a long time ago, it surprises her that he’s still hung up on it. She doesn’t resent him for it anymore, and she wants him to survive and be well;

She even cries in front of Murphy, she doesn’t put up the whole facade like she did in season 2 when they had another difficult conversation, she’s not afraid of being vulnerable in front of him. She knows he’d understand. She trusts him to;

Murphy agrees to leave her behind because he wants to do one thing for her that she believes would be the best. If it was Bellamy and Clarke and Clarke decided to stay behind to die, he’d probably throw her over his shoulder and carry her if he needed to, he wouldn’t let her die. But this is Murphy, who believes in free will more than anything just because the option of deciding for himself had been taken from him so often. So he leaves her behind, probably feeling terrible about it and hating himself for shooting her even more because, had he not, she might not have taken the chip and would have wanted to live and keep fighting;

I definitely think it’s a relief for him that she decided to choose life. He’s happy she did.

Season 5:

Over six years they spent in space together they’ve become a family. I don’t think either one is in love with the other, Murphy is mostly concerned with Emori and his relationship with her up until the point of staying behind with Raven. It surprised Raven that he stayed behind, but she sees irony in them possibly dying together, and she definitely appreciates his sacrifice. It makes her love him even more - platonically for now, but love nevertheless;

They’re definitely attracted to each other, and feel very uncomfortable about it;

Murphy admitting that he stayed behind because he wanted to share some of her burden made Raven look at him differently. She loved and appreciated him before and enjoyed spending time with him despite his snarky remarks and pretty much being useless because he’s not an engineer, but when she realises that he wants to make a contribution not because he cares about being useful to the group or because he feels bad for doing nothing over six years to help them come down to the ground, but because it’s for her, to make her life and conscience easier, to share her burden, it changes the way she thinks of him. She now values him as a partner, not just someone she has to look after, but someone who can have her back. Someone she can rely on;

Murphy saves her life by thinking quickly and doing something she wouldn’t have thought to do. Once again, she realises how useful he can really be. She respects him even more.

That’s it for now, I think. I hope at least some of this makes sense and/or is relevant. Here’s to more Murven scenes for us to interpret, to stress over and overreact to.

[princessdarkheart]

I shouldn't have to be stressed out all the time. But, today is another one of those days where I'm dealing with more than I can handle. It's never just one thing multiple things weigh heavily on my shoulders at one time.

This is one of those moments I stop and think "Even if I'm successful with the new room that's not going to change anything. So why bother?" That's always the downfall of any project I get excited about, okay maybe not 100% of the time, but anything that requires change in a big way. It doesn't really change anything except the appearance of the room.

It won't change my life. It's not going to change my mood, my mental problems, my living conditions, give me more time to myself or even change where I live. I'm still going to be stuck in this crappy place until I die. And I don't want to die in this place. My health has deteriorated so badly it's almost guaranteed. But, you know, who cares right? I was never anyone important. I'm not Markiplier, Melissa Hunter and I'm certainly not Scott Cawthon.

All I wanted to do was go over the options for the theme of the room and I just don't have time to myself to do that. So I gave up and plopped myself right back down in front of the computer.

At first I chose unicorns. That's super girly, full of pink, rainbows and sparkles. Then this whole mess with Scott happened and because I'm so obsessed with bears now I considered Care Bears. That's still super girly, full of pink, rainbows and bears. Colorful bears. Someone threw a couple more suggestions at me that I hadn't thought of, one of them being Pokemon. I could see Pokemon especially when I had five minutes to myself to re-read the entry I made the night before getting the news Scott retired, Pokemon could carry the weight of my emotions. There are so many problems with this option. Walmart.com no longer carried either bed set I had seen back when I was searching out bedding months ago. They also no longer have the curtains. I found one set of curtains, one set, on Ebay. I added them to my page and before I could even had the chance to click on them again someone bought them. "You've got to be kidding me." I looked everywhere and couldn't find another set of curtains like them. Any sheet set or comforter is over priced on Ebay and Mercari. I'd have to be willing to hand over more than twice what a brand new bed set would cost from Walmart.com, Target.com or Amazon. Then there's the Build A Bear Pokemon. Yes, I know those exist. There's no Build A bear Workshop anywhere near me (what a shock! this hellhole lacks a lot of good stores.) so I was never able to get the ones I wanted when they first came out. Instead I'd have to pay scalpers, yes scalpers, people who rush out and buy something so they can sell it at a higher price online, to get the plush I want and those are running $100+ on Ebay. Outrageous! (I believe they retail for $35 in store.)

Because surrounding myself with something happy means decorating my entire room with that theme. I'm desperate to find something that will keep me afloat just in case all of my beloved Five Nights At Freddy's characters vanish from me. I'm about to fall into that void of darkness but... there's someone grabbing onto my hand keeping me from falling. They are in the shadows. Even if I think I know who they are. They are making a monumental effort to help find happiness for me or at the very least something to believe in, carry the weight of my world and be there to comfort me.

[teapopu]

ghost post i guess??

so my parents are going out of town soon and i feel like i wanna reflect on some kinda spooky encounters/experiences i’ve had in my house over the years because not gonna lie i’m kinda afraid of being alone in my house lmao. 1, 3, and 8 are the biggest ones imo and still bother me to this day

1) probably the most vivid and weirdest encounter i’ve had was one easter when i was like 6 years old. i was sitting on my living room floor looking through my easter basket for candy, no biggie. our living room connects out to our backyard through a sliding glass door and i see my dad casually walk across the yard. like from right to left he just walks forward, eyes straight ahead. i was waving at him from inside the house but he would not for whatever reason look in my direction so i knocked on the window a few times. all the while my dog was freaking out outside, barking at him and jumping back and forth. my mom, who was sitting on the couch in the same room the whole time and who had been reading a magzine, looked up when i started knocking on the window. she told me to stop and i was like um dad’s outside and she said he wasn’t and that he was on the computer in the other room. the other room is only connected by an open doorway and as my mom said that, my dad popped his head in the room to show he was there. to this day i have no idea who the man was that walked across my backyard, but he looked exactly like my dad. same face, build, hair, like he was clearly my dad. i try not to think about it too much.

2) when i was little i used to have these recurring dreams of a little blonde girl. these dreams lasted for about 3 years and i had them fairly regularly. in the dream, a little blonde girl, probably no more than 7 years old, would be sitting in a black chair. i would be sitting across from her and we were in some kind of purely white room. it set up like in those crime shows where someone is interviewing a suspect. she would sit there just staring at me and i could never communicate with her. as she sat there, she would count down from 100, very methodically. as she counted down, my heart started beating faster and faster and when she got down to 1, i would suddenly wake up. i talked to a friend about this dream and she said it sounded almost like she was counting down to my death. however, i was never afraid of these dreams. they were just normal to me idk. i know nothing of the people who have lived here prior to my family, but i’ve always wondered if a little girl may have died here and that’s the girl i kept seeing in my dreams.

3) this is one of my scarier encounters and i still have no explanation for it. so my bedroom is at the back of our house, right on the other side of the laundry room. i was young at the time and my bed time was super early compared to my parents and older brother, who were awake and all at the other end of the house in our living room. i was in my room trying to fall asleep in my bed which was positioned across from my bedroom door. as a kid, i used to sleep with my door open because i was afraid of the dark and my parents used to leave the hallway light on for me so my room was slightly lit. i was lying facing my open door when all of a sudden i heard a loud bang in the laundry room, followed by a shadow quickly moving across the hallway wall. i went into the laundry room and found a laundry basket lying on the floor. assuming one of my family members came into the laundry room and knocked it over, i went out to the living room to ask who had done it and why they didn’t pick it up. all three of them said nobody had been in the laundry room and that they had all been out in the living room. i clearly recall the basket falling, a slight pause, and a person-sized shadow moving across the wall, so idk if they were lying but somebody knocked that basket over.

4) when i was like 5 years old, my brother and i actually got along quite well. i used to play with him a lot and i loved going into his bedroom. it had a lot of cool stuff and best of all he had a huge queen-sized bed. i had one of those tiny kid-sized beds and was always jealous of him. i wasn’t supposed to go into his room without his permission because that was rude, but i had a habit of not listening and did it anyway. one time, i went in his room by myself and crawled into his bed. i put the sheets over my head and was gonna pop out and surprise him when he next came in, but all of a sudden i got stuck. i tried to move to get out but it felt like someone was holding me down. the sheets were still over my head and it got hard to breathe so i started panicking and screaming. after some time my mom came in and pulled the covers off me. i just remember crying and she led me out of the room where my brother was sitting in living room. there was no way he could have done it because he wasn’t anywhere near his room and my mom would have seen him. idk what happened but after that experience, that’s when i started feeling a bit afraid of my house.

5) this isn’t really a big experience but it was still weird so i’m including it anyway. one time when i was like 5 years old i really wanted my parents’ attention for whatever reason. they were in their bedroom so i went to knock on their door when i felt this overwhelming sensation of bugs crawling all over me. it felt like i was covered in ants or something. my whole body felt like it was doused in bugs so i fell on the floor outside their room and started freaking out. however, as soon as they opened the door, the sensation stopped. i told them what i felt and they said there wasn’t a bug on me. i have no clue what this was or if it’s even paranormal but i remember it vividly.

6) so this is a pretty major one that used to freak my parents out, but i honestly don’t remember it all that well. when i was 4 or 5, my grandpa on my dad’s side passed away. i didn’t know him all that well because he and my dad weren’t on great terms and i was also a little afraid of him because he was a stern guy. my parents told me that i used to tell them stories about how i dreamt i had met with my grandpa. apparently i said that in these dreams, we sat in the kitchen at night and ate food and chatted. i told my parents about these dreams on multiple occassions. i really don’t remember these dreams, but young me told my parents about them so who knows, maybe i met with my late grandpa as a kid.

7) this one weirds both my mom and me out because we were both there to witness it. so like most families, we put up a christmas tree every year. we have accumulated a lot of ornaments over the years so we make sure to secure our tree to a strong stand and to the wall to make sure it doesn’t fall down. we do this every year and we’ve never had an accident. however, one year as my mom and i were both in the living room, the tree slammed down to the ground. now i’m all for physics and gravity, but the tree came down with a force. like there was no way it just fell on its own. it was absolutely like someone had pushed it because it just fell way too hard even taking into the account the weight of the ornaments. it literally ripped the cord out of the wall. my parents like to joke that it was probably my late grandpa on my dad’s side because he was a bit of a jerk and didn’t like christmas.

8) i am terrified of my brother’s room just in general. i feel a bad presence there and whenever i pass the room in the hallway, my stomach gets unsettled. whenever my parents leave town or i’m home alone even for a short period of time, i close the door. i just feel like it has a lot of negative energy and i’m scared one day i’ll see something in there i don’t want to see. after my brother moved out, my dad moved in there to sleep because he snores excessively and it annoys my mom. he reports having really bad dreams almost every night. he has also had an experience where he felt like someone was pushing down on his throat while he was lying there. both my dad and i feel something is off about the room but my mom doesn’t believe us. regardless, the room freaks me out and i avoid going in there as much as possible.

[dwestfieldblog]

REVELATION: 2021

...’Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth...see, the home of God is among the mortals.’ Hope you are staying sane. Meanwhile, from my war room (arf) inside a deep (astral) state within a non binary body...hallucinating realities...

Imagine, if you will, millions in a democratic country, who gladly make (and addictively want to) their private thoughts known via social media and are quite happy to tell random pollsters on the street their feelings on any subject of which they are asked. And plenty on which they are not. So pleased to be asked their righteous opinion, so ego led deluded that anybody might ‘like’ their words that they will spout the hatred their hearts feel on issues of the day and in their lives without a care where such information goes. They want to be heard and so, they are. Now imagine a computer driven listening and watching station with instructions from media masters, political leaders, and advertising companies paying close attention to the data gathered. Not actual facts as such but almost all emotion led opinions, collated to show the group mindset of a subsection of a country.

An algorithm can be created for what products would most likely appeal to that mass. Guns, (for random example), waterproof bibles, clothing for survivalists. You have direct knowledge of this already when You tube, your email, Alexa etc ‘suggest’ something you might/should like, based on what you have ordered, written, or spoken online. This year I have been getting dozens of spam emails for bad eyesight, Viagra type stuff and hair loss. HA. My age must be written somewhere. Not much stress on imagination to see how simple it is for organisations like the ex Cambridge Anal lytica etc to capture and utilise such info via Facebook. Or how enemies of a country could understand in no short order what makes a country really tick below the surface and how to manipulate those emotionally crippled, poorly educated AND those who seek power over others. Psychographic profiling...stop giggling at the back there...

Cui bono (who benefits) from seeding disorder? Follow the money, ‘it’s only business’. An algorithm which reveals just what people believe and who can then be exploited en masse as useful idiots to disrupt the usual inbred spastic normality of daily life in a human country. And it is dirt cheap because people WANT to reveal themselves and a rival country need only a minimum outlay of actual infiltrating agent provocateurs (many of whom will be actual natives.) A set up involving ‘sock puppets’ which serves the same purpose as APs...the legendary bots and fake identities rattling off tweets and false flag Facebook pages, rallying the disaffected faithful. ‘More evidence that the targeting works and predicts our behaviour’.

Now, once the group targets have been identified, seek out those among them who long for their moment of fame, their years of special importance and time of power. They will have already made clear their characters in online posts. Weakling Alpha types cowering their insecurities behind a loud voice. They hunger for followers, to be ‘liked’, (a basic larval human need for most) and admired for their rightness. Show them support, aid their voices to spread, mysterious donors for the message; Anybody not similar to you MUST be the opposite...and therefore, the enemy. Step by step, the daily hormone rush reprogrammes and the opinions become a self fulfilling prophecy, imprinting over all sense of reason. So now you have your moronic masses (and those dumb enough to want to lead them) most of whom are too stupid (or busy surviving) to realise they are being manipulated from afar by those who understand what is within and do not have their countries’ interests at heart. Bombarded with attack ads and propaganda... ‘Until they saw the world the way we want them to’...

Some of the leaders, big or small, will actually know they are puppets but will think it acceptable as long as they are given a little pat on the head via position and power. And a lot of money. Most, (whether mass or leader of such infiltrated countries) will be certain they are doing what they do in the name of Freedom and Democracy, while all the time, being used to further limit the same. Hilariously, bleakly, deathly ironic. From hubris to nemesis.

Yes, I am writing about Brexit and Trumpists and Q Onan. Et al, etc. Ad infinitum. Almost. Those in democratic countries who are ceaselessly working unbeknown to themselves against most of what they demand the most. ‘To take back control’. No children, you are creating a system where you will have less and less of this. ‘Follow the white rabbit’? No, you are following an algorithm in highly predictive patterns to those who own it and by extension, you.

‘I love my country!’ Do you? Why are you working free of charge for another who only wants to see your Union and partnerships broken? You vote for ridiculous men like Trump and Farrage because they are not the government and think you are rebel anarchists who will herald a new dawn of purifying flame...by substituting yet more slime who care only for their own power.

Someone points the finger, uses a trigger word and you do the Pavlov dog. Someone claps their hands and you pay unquestioning attention to their misinformation. Look over there, the world is being run by Satanic, child abusing faggot socialist liberals and foreign scum. Arf. So why are you obeying one of the above mentioned groups in the name of taking back control of your freedom? Because they already know how you will react. Because you created the infamous All Seeing eye yourselves by feeding information into the data base. Because you are so easy to trick into believing you are thinking for yourselves. ‘They’ don’t need to insert chips or vaccines with nano bots, they can just implant you with audio visual media and Nuremberg style rallies.

Take two blonde, fat stupid white men. Liars to the highest degree. One an entitled megalomaniac spoiled child and the other with half the megalomania. A glance at their track record and into their eyes should have told you all. Seems it didn’t. It took over four years and up to the week Trump left, for the rats to finally start jumping ship and for the band of the Titanic to start changing their tune. Twitter took four years to decide to cut off his fix. Nero played golf while America burned with Covid. 414,000 dead. Incitement to riot? Incitement to riot.  Investigate his wannabe aristocratic family and do not allow his children anywhere near politics. Or Smug petulant Kusher anywhere near business.

Over 74 million still think Trump is a go to guy rather than a take a running jump at kicking him up his arse. He pardoned various criminals, including Bannon, (lest the fascist scuzzball fink on him)...and no pardon for Maxwell... who still could, unless she also should manage to ‘kill herself’ by accident fnord in prison. Seems likely Donald could run for office again, form his own party....What? Pence announced ‘Space Force’ personnel will be called Guardians; yes really...this year will see their first battle against the children of Thanos. Thanos, thy name is Trump. But lacking the compassion or humour.

Good morning to billionaire Mr Robert Mercer...a ‘Christian’ Conservative, gun lover, climate change denier, donor of over 100 million dollars to right wing candidates, 15 million of which went into Cambridge Analytica/Brexit and more to Breitbart and Trumps 2016 campaign. On the face of it, both he and his second daughter Rebekah would seem to have their fingers hard on many triggers of chaos, all of which serve only the rich and Russia. Breaking up partnerships, friendships, splitting unions and sowing discord. Check. Encouraging  the working  and middle class to merely shift their belief across to another band of disreputable rich guys by telling them how corrupt the other rich guys are. Look out! They might be Socialists! A lot of them are Europeans! They eat children and want immigrants to swarm over your town! Works like a charm. It would be so nice if billionaires would actually behave in a decent moral way (yes, sarcasm) and actually help out more, regardless of whether there is a return on their ‘charity’, instead of being the James Bond villain scum they act like.

And speaking of Q...HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Arf. That narcissist prick in horns Jacob Chansley of Arizona...Shaman? Shame man. Bullhorn? Bullsh...t. No hanging lawmakers for you boy. He only eats organic food? So what? A lover of nature? Which is why he wears fur and horns and wishes death upon fellow Americans who are ‘traitors’. The Kremlin and Mercer have done a job as sweet as they did with Brexit divisions. Just let the rabid cretins do all their work for them splitting unions. Well, it’s what the CIA did so well against communism. Now it is our turn. Watching yanks and brits demand more control of their democracy while pulling it apart. Hilarious. Q Onan wanked their conspiracy to death and are now confused the Golden One has not led them to the revolution...not exactly levitating the Pentagon are you?

They believed the world is run by a paedo satan worshipping elite who plot against Trump and operate a global child sex trafficking ring. Yes really. So you can see how they appeal to the deranged righteous Christian gun toting hordes and internet savvy youth against the Deep State. Arf arf arf. The Kemlin will have studied key points as to what gets the average American and British goat and exploited it. People are so keen to share their beliefs, ideas and fears on social media that it is simple to collect and combine such info...(as happened with Cambridge Analytica) and use it for manipulating gain. Putin/Mercer probably told Trump the nature of the beast. ’If you want followers, do this...’Follow the algorithm. Dying covid patients continue to deny they even have it in South Dakota etc...that is how well the misinformation works.

Boris. A pathetic deal with Europe after an endless mantric blather of an ‘oven ready Brexit’. The chumocracy in full force as Ayanda Capital receive a 150 million pound PPE contract and provide no masks at all. And tax exile Tory donor (Lord) Ashcroft’s firm lands a 350 million pound vaccine contract (without a tendering process). Well, rather help a pal than put money into the National Health Service eh Boris? In 2019, the music industry brought in around 5.8 BILLION pounds, whereas the fishing industry netted (arf) 446 million. Sunak and Johnson have not seen fit to grant work permits for musicians to play in Europe and bands from outside will find it harder to get visas to tour in Plagueland. ‘Health’ secretary Matt Hancock said it was ‘Peculiarly unusual’ why British people went to work when they were ill. ‘Why in Britain do we think it’s acceptable to soldier on and go into work if you have flu symptoms...’Hmm. Germany pays 100 percent of sick pay. Czech Republic pays approx 60. The UK? 26. Good enough answer you prick? This guy also voted against food parcels for children, and then reversed only after an outcry.

The ever lovely Good Catholic William Rees Mogg called UNICEF’s feeding of poor English children during a pandemic at Christmas a ‘publicity stunt’. Hmm...well in 2019 the charity received 6.4 billion in contributions of which the Tory government of the UK donated 494 million. Perhaps UNICEF wanted to make a point that the UK has the largest number of food banks in the democratic world (over 2000, Germany has 900) and that it was a little beyond shameful that this was necessary. Still making money from selling birth control/termination pills in Indonesia after having said all contraception even in cases of rape was wrong Billy? The English gentleman also said he found the rise in food bank usage as being ‘rather uplifting’. Verrry Christian man. And that rotting British fish are ‘happier’ now out of Europe. A joke? The 2019 EU clampdown on tax avoidance will be avoided by him thanks to Brexit. Heavenly off shore interests, Glory! ‘How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God’. It easier for a camel to piss through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of god. Mark 10 21:25. Good luck Billy.

Met a Christian guy again who tried to tell me a parable of sorts. A little bird was flying and suddenly fell into a field dead, a cow walked over and took a dump on the little bird and the heat of the manure brought the bird back to life. Overjoyed he started to sing and was heard by a cat that killed it. The moral being, don’t interfere with God’s plan. I wondered if that had been where Christ went wrong...perhaps he should have left lepers to die...but obviously no...he was a special case. Aha, so nobody should try and help anybody ever if they have a problem or are suffering. No one should help their own children, no doctors or surgeons...but priests are allowed because the intermediaries through whom the pious live vicariously are essential workers. Great parable. If you believe in God, don’t help anyone else. That’s the story of Christ eh?

The man who told me the story also said Donald was a great guy...I need to remind him Trump has broken every single one of the Ten Commandments (apart from direct murder) The burning cross is a T for Trump... ‘The function of law and theology are the same: to keep the poor from taking back by violence what the rich have stolen by cunning’. ‘The function of theology? The recitation of the incomprehensible by the unspeakable to pick the pockets of the unthinking’. RAW. Natures God. Hilaritas Press.

The most wisdom from China since Confucius was tweeted several weeks ago to the smug frog like Nigel Farage who had written ‘Christmas cancelled. Thank you China.’ Upon which, the Middle Kingdom between Heaven and Earth replied ‘Wear a mask and stop talking s..t’. Wonderful...shame the state media Global Times then spoiled it by writing a pot/kettle article which suggested that such politicians...’care only about their political ambitions and see ordinary people as roadside grass.’ From a regime which mowed its own teenage children down in tank fire, ran over their bodies and sent the price of the bullets used in the execution of young rebels to their parents.

Meanwhile, back in the temple of ketamine far away from all that nonsense... Universe will respond non locally to my thought...All pure chance as exists cross divided in all encircling mode, arf...non-local effects...’the ‘maybe’ in between ‘yes’ and ‘no’ in Quantum Logic, of ‘solid’ ‘objects’ that are superimpositions of waves, according to one quantum model, and of ‘minds’ that are superimpositions of waves if the ‘minds’ are transactions involving brains and the brains are made of cells which are made of atoms which are made of electrons which are superimpositions of waves’. RAW THE NEW INQUISITION. Yes. And...

The hidden variable theory of consciousness asserts (1) there is a subquantal level beneath the observational/theoretical structure of ordinary quantum mechanics; (2) events occurring on this subquantal level are the elements of sentient being. Drs Walker and Herbert.

‘Consciousnesses in this model is not ‘in’ our heads. Our brains are merely local receivers ‘consciousnesses ‘is’ ‘an aspect of the non-local field’ The ‘ego’ then is the locally tuned in aspect of this usually not-tuned-in non local field.

‘...we find that our consciousness controls physical events though the laws of quantum mechanics.’ Magick. Rise in Love, ‘arouse the coiled splendour within you’ :-)

[littleroma]

Exasperation is thy name - Chapter Eight

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight

Jyn flicked her fingers over the screen in front of her; she still wasn’t sure if what she had heard in this interview was in any way accurate.  Pulling up some of the background information, she set to work on attempting to corroborate some of the claims that Designation: Hawkeye had set forward.  If there was one thing that Jyn shared with Dacia, it was a belief that it was good to try and scare up more than one source.  She thought, in the case of Dacia, that it was a byproduct of her Jedi training, then later from some of her studying while she was masquerading as Darcy Lewis.

 Entering into a bit of a fugue state while she tried her hardest to get answers for some of the things that were bothering her.  There were some things she felt weren’t sticking well with her, but she couldn’t even say that she knew what it was that was bothering her, all she knew was that there was something there that was giving her pause.  Frowning when she found some areas that looked as if there were going to take a longer time for her to confirm, in saying so, she jumped a little when Cassian and Dacia made their way into the room.

 “So did that make either of you two want to scream?  Some of what that guy was saying was borderline hard to believe, why would he would he even believe some of those things?” Cassian grumpily asked storming into the room.

 “Yeah, he seems more than a little confused about some of the things he was saying.  What I’m struggling with is the idea that he signed up for something that he wasn’t completely clear on what he agreed to, it boggles my mind.  It’s doesn’t seem like the smartest thing to do, certainly not when signing up for a new phone contract, never mind going out to fight in a situation that you don’t understand very much about what you are potentially signing your life and soul away for. Is there any way that this would make any sense?” Dacia nodded her head in assent to what the man was saying.

 “That it doesn’t sound like it would make a lot of sense.  But some of what the guy was saying didn’t make a lot of sense to me, so I emailed Ms Hill, I wanted to try and see if there was anything in the guy’s background that would make his actions any more explicable and while I wasn’t able to find anything.  At least nothing that immediately jumps out, but Ms Hill was able to give us a small bit of something.  She told us that the guy was not known for his intellectual abilities.  I wasn’t able to work out if the woman felt bitter over a slight, but it seems to check out, what she is saying I mean.” Jyn answered the two, gesturing at the computer screen.

 “Okay, well based on that I can’t see that as having changed.  It doesn’t seem like something that has changed greatly over the years.  It doesn’t seem to have gotten into the man’s head to start trying to think things through.  We might end up having to put a pin in these thoughts, not while we have to start interviewing Designation: Scarlet Witch.  Is there anything that they wanted us to bring up in regards to this situation?  The last thing we need is to go into an interview with her and not have some form of questioning that we want to begin softening our way.” Dacia allowed the two in front of her.

 “That is fair enough, but for now we need to know if there was something that we should be aware of, Jyn did they at least give you some questions that they could initially ask, even some way in which we should point our questions? Cassian asked the two, running a hand through his hair.

 “Yeah, they wanted to know if we could scare up some information on how the woman got her powers, or even some of her background before she decided that joining with HYDRA was a splendid idea.  Though something tells me that it will be difficult for us to get any and everything we need from the woman, or at least it would be easier getting blood from a stone than it would be getting answers.” Jyn spoke confidently, having looked down at some of the notes she had had open on the screen in front of her.

“For right now, we need to more concerned with who goes in to talk with her.  We need to be smart about this.” Cassian sighed.

 “Right, I’ve been thinking about that, and it would make more sense if Jyn were to talk to her.  We should send in Jyn to ask questions because maybe she will be able to get past the woman’s guard.  I am happy to stand at the back; I am sorry Cassian, but I don’t trust that the woman wouldn’t try to reach for her powers.  From what we have seen, I would be the only one that can take her down, even temporarily, without causing lasting harm to her.” Dacia told the two.

 Cassian could only nod his head at the woman, briefly shaking his head to show that he wasn’t offended.

 “That’s fine; we don’t need to start begging for trouble before we are ready to deal with it.  Is there any point where we can begin asking questions.” Cassian calmly told the woman.

 “Right you are, we need to ask the obvious questions, such as does she understand the predicament that she has found herself in. We should try and get further on her background because even if we can’t find an answer, we might be able to gather more hints, maybe something she accidentally lets slip.” Dacia spoke, grumpy with some of the things that she had been told.

 Dacia ran a hand through her hair, still finding the situation going forward to be remarkably challenging to deal with. Peering down at her hands momentarily and wondering what she would like to tackle next.  Jyn broke the silence for the trio and began to speak.

 “While I was waiting for you guys to show up, I was able to look further into the current situation in the State Department, would you like to know what I found out?” Jyn spoke, while the other two to nod their head in assent.

 “I was able to find that the former security of State was called Elizabeth McCord, I already told you that, yes?  She worked at the CIA, and I haven’t been able to find a lot of details on her earlier career, but that is a power of the course for a spy agency like the Central Intelligence Bureau, so I’m not too concerned.  At least not with my inability to find anything, I’m reluctant to try a deep dive into the agency, my theory was that I don’t want to attract undue attention towards us and our motives.  I was able to find that McCord worked with President Dalton, while the two still worked at the CIA.  He brought McCord in to replace the previous Secretary of State when he mysteriously died.”

 “When McCord first started working at the State Department, some of the other senior Staffers weren’t sure if they could trust her. I’m not 100% sure of what exactly happened there, but after a while, the woman was able to gain their trust.  Her Chief of Staff then was called Nadine Tolliver, who has since left the Department for different pastures.  Her most recent Chief of Staff was called Jay Whitman, some of the staffers who worked under the woman.  As far as I can tell Whitman still works at the department, but as I’m sure you can guess, the guy is under near-constant scrutiny.”

 “Right, but that doesn’t mean anything for us. Yeah, it sounds strange, and it’s something that we would want to investigate, but we can’t spare any extra time on it, at least not when we have other things we need to focus on.  Does this lead anywhere Jyn? Dacia prompted, wanting to get her friend back on track.

 “See, I thought so too, and I spent a little more time on it, simply because I wasn’t sure where it would ultimately lead.  I mean we do have bigger concerns, but as always something was drawing me in, and I couldn’t put my finger on it.  At least not until I came across this.” Jyn tried to explain.

 Pinching her two fingers together, she enlarged on the files in front of her and flicked it up to display on the big screen in front of her.  Looking briefly at her friend's faces, she huffed when she could see that the two weren’t getting as excited as she would like.  Deciding that it would perhaps be better if she could explain to the two of them what exactly had attracted her attention.

 Certainly less time-consuming.

 “You see what I found was that President Dalton was diagnosed as having lived with Meningioma, a brain tumour that was pressing on the frontal lobe of his brain.  These types of tumours can impair the executive function of the brain, affecting things such as the judgement, decision-making abilities and lowering inhibitions while they are dealt with.”

 “Right, but what’s that got to do anything we’re dealing with?” Cassian asked, already becoming impatient to get the answers that he wanted.

 “I’m getting to that; it doesn’t seem like it would affect us on the surface, but I looked even closer.  Dalton recently threatened war against Russia, something which could be indicative of the type of significant personality change, with typically excessive displays of emotions.” Jyn continued to explain, looking even more animated in what she was saying.

 “The point Jyn, THE POINT WOMAN!” Cassian roared, already becoming fed up with the woman’s waffling.

 “Right, I have one of those.  The point is that the cabinet invoked the 25th Amendment, and President Dalton was left with a choice of either stepping aside to have his issue, at this point they didn’t know about a tumour, or to see his name being dragged through the courts.  It was up to his Vice President Theresa Hurst to effectively hold down the fort while the guy was medically treated.  From here it gets a bit murky, but what I have been able to piece together is that Hurst was thinking (and making definite motions) towards making a run for the presidency when Dalton’s time is up.  What I’ve been able to work out is that while the man wasn’t there, Hurst was able to outmanoeuvre McCord, and oust her from the State Department.  This served two purposes; she was able to weaken the other’s woman’s position, don’t forget that McCord was in no way a politician, a bit of fools mission personally speaking.  And it was suspected that McCord was looking at making a run for the presidency, Hurst didn’t want to have to fight off the woman that was polling a lot better than she was.  She was able to get into the now vacant position a face from her past, General Ross.  I can’t work out why she wanted Ross, in particular; maybe it was an old debt or something?” Jyn got more and more animated as she told her story.

 “Right, that’s interesting but does McCord have many supporters left the State Department?  Because that’s where it would start to concern us right?” Dacia tried to hurry up the woman, still not sure if she was amused by how Jyn was getting on.

 “I knew you were going to ask that, so I did a little digging.  When McCord was still there, she was surrounded by staffers; Daisy Grant, Matt Mahoney, Kat Sandoval and her assistant Blake Moran along with Jay Whitman. Those staffers are all still there, but in a diminished capacity, I suppose it was recognised that General Ross might not have been able to function – it would probably have been something completely different from what he was used to doing.  From what I have been able to tell, those people have been working from within to bring down General Ross.  As soon as Dr Stark wakes up, he might be able to put the final nail in the man’s coffin so to speak.  Have we heard anything more about the guy?  What’s is his prognosis?” Jyn finished by peering over at Dacia.

 “I have been listening to some of what they’re comfortable telling us, which understandably isn’t a lot.  It’s easier to say now that it looks as if the guy’s vitals are starting to level out.  It just concerns me that so far, he hasn’t woken up.  Jyn is there anything that you could think of which might impact this might have on his physical health.” Dacia explained, crossing her arms over her chest as she thought through some of the issues that they were likely to face.

 “I’m not a licenced medical practitioner, at least not in this universe.  So all I can say is that you should trust the doctors and medical staff surrounding him. You can bet that the Stark money would open up the doors to the best of the best.  For now, though, that’s all I feel comfortable speculating, at least not before I can look at his medical notes.” Jyn explained.

 “Okay, that’s fascinating, truly that’s fascinating, but we need to get moving with some of the rest of the interviews.” Cassian tried to hide a yawn before he continued, “I can see why you may begin to become even slightly fascinated with the whole mess back in Washington DC, but that doesn’t completely affect us.  At least not now, can we focus on some of the questions we need to think about asking the questions that we need to be answered!”

 “Right, you are, before we get started, do you guys have any questions that you definitively want to be answered?  I don’t need to point out to you guys that we only have one first interview at the woman; it’s more likely that we will be able to shock something out of the woman on the first time around.” Dacia pointed at the man, acknowledging Cassian’s point.

 “No, I think that we are honestly better just going in and seeing what comes to mind.  If she manages to bring up something that we aren’t expecting, then surely it would be better than we don’t feel constrained by questions.  At least, not when we could be faced with a sudden windfall regarding unexplained and questions that we aren’t even aware that we should be thinking off.” Jyn thoughtfully told the two what was going through her head.

 “Okay, Cassian, would you mind keeping an eye on us through the CCTV, we don’t want to miss anything, just in case we should miss anything?” Dacia spoke, looking over at Cassian.

 She stood off slightly to the side and looked over at Jyn, waiting for the woman to follow her lead and make for the door.  Holding up her left arm briefly, she joking held it pointed towards, she carefully bowed in the direction of the woman. Hearing Jyn laugh was all that she needed

 “Come on, then joker, we need to talk to these people!” Jyn laughed, before skipping from the room.

 Cassian looked up at the two women and shook his head briefly before returning his focus to the screens directly in front of him. At least, some things would never change, and the two would always be inevitably laughing and joking with one another, at least when it wasn’t something more serious.

 WHOOSH

 Jyn made her way from the room and briefly slowed in her steps long enough for the Jedi to catch up to her.  She suddenly paused in her steps and peered back down the corridor for the woman to catch up with her, tapping her foot up and down impatiently.  Not wanting to deal with any hurt feelings, Jyn smiled at the woman while she rolled her eyes at the woman.  Reaching up with one of her hands, she absently began to itch at one of her arms while she waited for the woman.

 Looking over at the woman rapidly gaining step with, Jyn turned away from the woman and began to walk in step with her.  The two knew that what they were about to undertake was no doubt going to be very important.  At least as far as being able to understand some of how they should begin to move forward about the woman.  Hopefully, it would shine a light on the woman, and even though it was a remote possibility, it would shed more light on what kind of impact the woman was having on their emotions.  At the very least they were aware that they might only be able to get from the woman her name.

 At the very least Jyn was prepared to be disappointed with what the woman came out with during the interview, but she was always aware that it was better for to go in with an open mind.  That way at least she wouldn’t be too heinously disappointed with whatever it was that she learned.  Because wasn’t that the point of this whole shindig?  To get answers to the some of the questions that plagued them?  Or at the very least be able to fill in some of the blanks surrounding their questions? No matter which way Jyn shook it, she was stuck with someone who believed in asking questions, so for now, at least she could pretend to understand where the woman was coming from.  She felt like it was a good thing to do a little digging and get the answers to some of the questions that she felt needed answering.

 Taking a small breath in through her nose, Jyn peered at the woman beside her and opened her mouth to speak.

 “Do you have any questions that you would like for me to press her on in there?”

 “No, I honestly feel as if the woman might provide us with some answers if we don’t prod her for answers, at least, not until we can start to limit our scope.  In any case, I’m not sure if the woman won’t give us something to go on, at least not without playing mind games on us.” Dacia told the woman, walking alongside her.

 “Ugh, when was the time when I thought it was only the Jedi who would be likely to play mind games with me again?”

 “Yeah, there were some assholes in the Jedi Order, but I didn’t think that you would have been likely to run into any Jedis?” Dacia teased the woman, suddenly concerned that the woman would have had a run in with Darth Vader.

 “Don’t worry I didn’t come across Vader’s radar, at least not beyond the whole Father connection.  It doesn’t strike me as something the guy would keep an eye on. No doubt he found it too important to keep the universe still living in fear.  He had bigger things to be concerned about.” Jyn reassured the other woman,

 “Ugh, point.  I came across the guy who I suspected later became Vader, well suspect is a weak term, I was able to work out that it was him.  While I still knew him as a Jedi, he was a sweet guy, so I’m honestly unable to work out exactly what happened to make the Dark Side seem like a reasonable place any rational being would want to be.  My point is that I don’t think you should joke about that, because if Vader had it out for you, then it could be a bad thing.” Dacia spilt in one of her trademarked spill of consciousness.

 “Fair enough, but do you honestly think that anything could track us to this Universe?” Jyn worriedly asked as she stole a sidelong glance at her friend.

 “No, I haven’t come across any indication to even hint at anyone being able to track us here.  I just wish that you wouldn’t belittle the threats that we did end up facing. It makes them seems trite.” Dacia sighed.

 “Okay, well we need to go and get started on the rest of our day here.  Ladies first, madame!” Jyn told the woman, laughing.

 Jyn looked over at her friend Dacia and wondered if there was any particular reason that the woman had chosen to wear her robe today.  Feeling as if the nerves were ready to crawl up her throat, was this some sign that the woman felt as if she needed some way or method with which to hide her face.  It was times like this when Jyn wondered if the woman had some form of fore vision when it came to the future.  Normally Jyn wouldn’t even entertain the notion of anyone being privy to what could happen in the future.  Though she privately felt as if she couldn’t simply dismiss any of Dacia’s abilities, she had seen too much to write them off.

 The two woman simply looked at one another, before nodding and entering the room.  As one they were able to peel off and start on their separate tasks, they had both worked on these tasks together and separately, at least to the point where they were both able to perform their tasks without having to rely on each other for help.

 Dacia made her way towards the prison cell that contained Designation: Scarlet Witch, turning only briefly to peer back Jyn.  Jyn was stood beside the central computer and was efficiently keying through a few of the features; she made sure to manipulate the keys to the rest of the cell doors.  Jyn didn’t want for even the slightest chance of the prisoners to be able to escape.

 Not on her watch in any case.

 Nodding over at the other woman, Jyn silently watched as the woman stepped to the side and began to tap through the features on the wall mounted screen.  Jyn focused her eyes back on the door to Designation: Scarlet Witch’s cell, she wanted to make sure that that woman wouldn’t take any opportunity to make a grand escape. Smirking a little, when she noted Dacia is making her way into the woman’s cell quickly.  Waiting for what she was sure was a split second, she saw the woman coming back out with her quarry safe in hand, she pressed a few of the buttons again and made sure that she locked the woman’s cell behind the two women.

 Silently following the two from the cells, Jyn wondered how the two were going to continue moving on.  Finally, the odd grouping reached the small room where the interview room.  Dacia proceeded to make sure that Designation: Scarlet Witch was securely lashed to the table in the middle of the room before she nodded to a wary Jyn. When Jyn saw that the woman had nodded at her, she carefully took an opposite seat to Designation: Scarlet Witch. Glancing over her shoulder carefully to check what Dacia was doing, she saw that the woman had carefully stepped back with her hands resting on either side of her hips.

 “So hello, Ms Maximoff, now before we get started on this interview, I want to know if you at present are relatively comfortable.” Jyn started with an easy question, knowing that her job was going to be much easy if they could at least pretend to be cordial at the beginning.

 “Yes, I don’t know why that would matter to you, but for all that it matters, for all that you care, then yes I am comfortable.” Designation: Scarlet Witch looked slightly conflicted as she answers Jyn’s simple question.

 “That’s good, now as to my second question, do you understand why you are here?” Jyn gently asked, not wanting to let her hand show this early.

 “No doubt, it’s got something to do with that monster Stark right?  Everything wrong with this situation has got his disgusting fingerprints all over it.” Designation: Scarlet Witch spat, the venom clear in her tone.

 “Well, why would you say that?  You broke the law, don’t you think that you should have paid the price for breaking the law?  You didn’t have to come out to fight if you hadn’t then you wouldn’t have been in this situation at all.  Can you explain to me why you got yourself involved?” Jyn tried to prod the situation back to the subject at hand.

 “It is always Stark’s fault; it is always that monster’s fault.  He took my parents and my brother from me; if it wasn’t for him, then I might still have my family.  WHAT POSSIBLE REASON WOULD YOU HAVE TO SAY THAT IT WOULD BE ANYONE ELSE’S FAULT!”

 “I’m glad you started there because contrary to popular belief the weapons trade, on a small scale, share some similar attributes to trades that deal with designer goods.  By this, I mean that as was part and parcel if a company wanted to make a quick buck, they could simply paint on the S.I logo on the side of any weapon and make their enemy shit their pants in fear.  In the case of Sokovia, the weapon that killed your parents, it didn’t have anything to do Dr Stark. Instead, it was sold by one Obadiah Stane, a partner in Stark Industries, who among a great many illegalities, sold weapons under the table. But I’m not completely sure if he even sold Stark Industries stock was fired at your family apartment, which claimed the lives of your parents.  Do you want to know who Stane sold the weapon too?” Jyn started to explain, sounding as if she was about to start lecturing the woman.

 “You dirty, dirty liar, it is always Stark he is a disgusting excuse for a human being.  It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest if the guy were to turn up dead suddenly.  It would ahh serve him right after all!” Designation: Scarlet Witch couldn’t possibly have looked even eviler if she had an evil moustache to twirl menacingly.

 “Right, you’ve hinted at that, but that’s not strictly true.  Would you be interested in finding out whose name was on the order requisition form for that weapon?  I dare say, you knew him quite well.  After all, you fought under his command for a great many years.  Do you want to know who you should have saved all your energy for?” Jyn lightly mocked the woman sitting across from her before continuing “It was one Wolfgang von Strucker.  I can see that name means something to you, for the record would you mind telling me exactly who or what that is.”

 “No, you’re lying, the man along with Doctor List was able to give us the powers to go after Stark.  Without him, we might not have gotten as far as we might have hoped. Why would he try to harm our country? What possible reason would he have for those missiles?” Designation: Scarlet Witch started to plead.

 Dacia looked at the woman with feeling revulsion beginning to crawl up her spine as she looked over at Designation: Scarlet Witch. She wondered why the woman continued to bleat on with the same thing over and over again.  Smirking as she wondered how much fun Jyn was likely to have to pull her misguided beliefs down around her ears.

 “I’d normally apologise, but I just don’t feel sorry.  Do you want to know why he bought those weapons?  Or at least some of the things we suspect about the man’s intentions because as you know, he is dead.  You had a hand in his death didn’t you?”

 “I suppose that you are going to tell me, so go on tell me what exactly I am missing.” Designation: Scarlet Witch tried to rally.

 “I’m going to go on a bit of a tangent here, don’t stop me if you have heard it already.  But Strucker wanted a political landscape in Sokovia that was easy for him and HYDRA to take advantage of, the government in place could have defied them, but as with most good things, it comes to an end.  Strucker, as I had mentioned earlier, want a softened government; they weren’t receptive to bribes, something that Strucker would have likely fallen back on.”

 “Oh but Colonel Strucker was a patriot, why would he do anything to harm Sokovia!  That doesn’t even make any sense.”

 “And yet the guy was HYDRA; he was fairly high up in the organisation, one of the heads.  He didn’t like the idea that he couldn’t mould the politics in the country to how he wanted it.  And why would he?  Wouldn’t make a very good little terrorist if he wasn’t trying to change things around in any case.  But that’s not where you come in, now is it?”

 “No, but he allowed my brother and I to take part in the experimentation we used to take down Stark and the Avengers.”

 “No, you silly woman, he didn’t pick you two for the experimentation because he liked you.  He picked you because the two you already seemed like you good soldiers for the HYDRA cause, so why not throw the two little pawns to the experimentation. After all, it wasn’t as if anyone was surviving it then what could it hurt him?  Don’t think too highly of yourself, nor of the man, you weren’t intended to survive.”

 “You know that isn’t true?  WE WERE EXPERIMENTED UPON TO LEAD HYDRA’s FORCES TO GREATNESS, WITH US AT THEIR HEAD, THEY COULD HAVE BEEN GREAT, AND THE WORLD WOULD HAVE BEEN A MUCH GREATER PLACE!”

 “Wow, that was a reach, does it hurt you stretching that far?  I hope you didn’t pull a muscle while making that frankly ridiculous assertion?”

 “It wasn’t a stretch, but I have seen the light, and if you knew what Stark had done, you wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss my words.  That guy is pure evil; I don’t even know why we are discussing it, it is as certain as the sun will rise in the East and set in the West.” Designation: Scarlet Witch tried to force out a laugh as she thought of the some of the more ludicrous things she felt like she had to set right.

 “Right, no I heard that I understand that you feel that way, I’m just struggling with some of the concepts that you are coming out with.  I am just trying to work out by which metric you are judging the supposed evilness of the guy.  It can’t possibly be about you, because sunshine, you joined a terrorist group, did it not possibly enter into your mind that was even a slightly questionable thing to do?  And I have heard the idea that one man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter. But I cant work out how you thought that it was a good idea.  So let me in on some of your thinking here, because this is starting to confuse me.”

 “That guy got rich of the backs of other people.  He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth.  Thanks to his Daddy, he never had to work a day in his life.  Can you blame me for hating the guy?”

 “Well, I’m going to stop you there, I don’t like to be bored and you Miss are boring me.  Don’t take it personally it’s just that I get bored listening to someone continue to go round and round in the same idea.  As much as I can be held guilty of just such a thing, you understand that it bores me a little.” Jyn pretended to yawn.

 “Now, that wasn’t very nice all I’m trying to do is tell you where I’m coming from, the guy is evil personified.”

 “We will have to agree to disagree there. You see, Dr Stark yeah had inherited a multi-million dollar weapons, yeah, he struggled with the sudden responsibility for a few years.  But he also managed to take that company and diversify some of its interests, to the point where it became a multi-billion dollar, with a great many interests beyond simple weapons.  He was later kidnapped in Afghanistan, and that woke him up to the downfalls of his weapons company.  To cut a long story short, his company left the weapons trade behind, at what could be argued was a great personal cost to him.  But that’s something that I don’t see you becoming too interested in. Something tells me that you don’t see further than the end of your nose.  I’m right about that, aren’t I?  Right now I want to know exactly what you decided to ditch ULTRON and join with the Avengers. Please don’t give me the crocodile tears; I’m honestly not sure whether or not they would irritate me or inspire some form of rage in me.”

 “We had learned, I had seen that Ultron's ultimate plans meant the annihilation of everyone on earth, we couldn’t let that stand. So we joined up with Rogers and his merry band of thugs to protect this earth.  It wouldn’t be fair to any children growing up that they couldn’t know what life on this planet could be.” Designation: Scarlet Witch eyes’ started to well up as she began to think of some of the things that were likely going through her head.

 “Sweetcheeks I said to spare me the crocodile tears because they aren’t going to work on me.  But do you want to know what I think?  It should have been clear from the get-go that the robot wasn’t ready to wear daisy chains. Not in the very least.  So I think you realised that if you supported the robot, it would mean the end of your brother.  Your supposed heroic gesture was born out of nothing more than a desire to save your skin.  How am I doing so far?” Jyn asked, folding her hand together.

 “Sounds about right, but you are missing the best part of my plan.  Would you like me to tell you what exactly you missed?”

 “Yeah go for it, but if I could hazard a guess, I’m going to guess that you didn’t get in on the Avengers by simply fluttering your eyes.  Something tells me that you didn’t spread your legs either.  I am going to guess that you still have too much arrogance and that maybe you couldn’t see yourself as too precious to do that.  How am I doing so far?”

 “Close but no cigar, I only had to enter into Rogers' head and see how I could manipulate him.  He only wanted to see the best in everybody around him.  All my brother and I had to do, was to spin him a sob story about how we had seen the light and wanted to fight alongside the Avengers.  It made my spine crawl having even to say those things, let alone speak to him.   I still maintain that we did nothing wrong.” Designation: Scarlet Witch shrugged her shoulders as much as she could at least.

 “Okay, I can see why you might think that.  So tell me, did you perhaps keep any feelers in the team’s mind?  To continue to turn them against Dr Stark?”

 “Oh, that?  That was my finest piece of work; I didn’t have to do much more than nudge them in the right direction.  He turned them against him all on his own.”

 “Right but didn’t you already have fingers in their minds?  I’m going to guess that you planted something in their minds THEN, not that it would be too difficult for you to do.  So am I going in the right direction.”

 “I might have implanted thoughts then, not that it was difficult. He lost any respect that they had for him when he created ULTRON; it’s not my fault that the guy created a genocidal robot.  I didn’t do anything to him, nothing to make him think that such actions would go in the right direction for him.  How stupid can you be to think that creating a large robot was the right course to take?”

 “Oh, but don’t you know that when you attacked him when you planted the thoughts in his head of those horrible nightmares.  Is there any point to this or am I simply going round in circles? What part of it aren’t you understanding?”

 “That?  I was told to do that, and let me tell you how delicious it was to me, more than I even have the ability put into words.  The only way this could have been better was if I still had my brother at my side.  At least I didn’t have to put up with Stark too much.  Thank goodness for small mercies rights?  At least I didn’t need to have him there still taunting me after everything I had lost.”

 “Changing topic again, I want to ask what exactly made you leave the Compound. I mean, sure you were already in a lot of legal trouble with regards to your actions in Lagos, but that could have been dealt with.  No easily, I’ll give you that one.  Your VISA application was already in a bit of trouble.  Turns out that Rogers and the US Immigration Department, differ on some things.  Your previous membership to a terrorist organisation is one.  In fact, I bet you don’t know that it was only thanks to Dr Stark’s access to incredibly efficient lawyers that Stark keeps on retainer fo people like you.  As long as you did your part and kept yourself away from prying eyes, away from public notice, it could have all been fine,” Jyn gave a short laugh before continuing “so it was really thanks to his breathtaking guilt complex that you were able to work with the Avengers.  It was a lot of trouble just to get you onto a work VISA, but it didn’t seem as if you were going to get a green card.  Do you have anything to say for yourself here?”

 “Stark was locking me up, he had shoved me into that compound and told Vis to keep me locked up.  He was breaking my human rights; I did the right thing when I ran away!  I wouldn’t even piss on that man if he was on fire”

 “You say that, but I don’t think that you know what a real prison is like. Because I have been in a few in my time. The Compound?  That is like a 5 Star luxury resort; you had access to a private swimming pool, gym features, internet and constant access to cooks so that you could have three award-winning square meals a day.  If you wanted to cook, then that option was there for you. If that place were a prison, you wouldn’t even last two days.  I have been places where I have been locked up in damp and squalor just waiting for the day when I could feel warm again.  I have been locked up in places where the only thing I had left to myself was my body, the things I had to do to get by, would give you nightmares Princess.  So don’t even talk to me about prison.  Not when I don’t think you could understand what it is like.  Sunshine you better hope that man wakes up soon or you will be for a world of trouble and I don’t even think you completely understand.”

 “I don’t believe you, that place was not pleasant, and I will thank you to not discount my experience.” Designation: Scarlet Witch sniffed, sure that she was in the right.

 “You make me sick, up you get, I can’t even look at you anymore.”

 Jyn stood up from behind the tablet and began to cautiously stretch out her stiff limbs, while Dacia hauled the woman to her feet and locked her wrists together once again.  Rubbing her dry palms together, as she thought once again that she should probably once again start thinking of using hand cream.  It was beginning to become faintly ridiculous that her skin should always be dry.

 Making a sudden motion, she hurried to catch up with Dacia and Designation: Scarlet Witch.  Jyn cast her mind once again to some of the things that had come up during the interviews. Walking through the doors alongside the two women, Jyn wondered what Dacia had no doubt thought of the interview.

 Still, her questions would soon (hopefully) be answered.

 WHOOSH

 Walking with her head held high, Wanda thought not for the first time, whether or not she it was worth her time attempting to reign in her temper.  There was nothing to suggest to her that she would better try to hold it, nothing but the other Avengers.  She looked over at Clint’s cell and felt her lip beginning to curl; it was nothing but pointless to her, how could a monster like Stark ever betray them?

 Wanda knew of course that she hadn’t ever expected anything from the monster, so she couldn’t have expected the guy to continue to support them?  Not when she had already had her fingers in the guys head, and deliciously fractured she found the guy’s psyche.  Not that she wanted to be done with the guy, not yet, she still felt as if she had so much more damage to do to the guy.  She might have found it a bit of struggle to ensure that the guy was kept well under her heel.  The only thing that she could regret was that she hadn’t the time to do anything more to him, if Rogers had damaged the man too badly, it would simply irk her not having that play thing around anymore, if she didn’t have something to play with? Well, then Rogers might not like the thing that he had unleashed.

 It was such a simple thing for Rogers to deal with – sentimentality, it was a wonder that the guy had managed to wake up in the morning.  Sure, she might be locked up on this bizarre floating rust bucket, but she still had one going for her.  She was at least locked up in proximity to her hero.  The thing that had managed to instil so much fear in his enemies.  Rogers could bleat all he wanted about the guy not being guilty because he preferred to spin a tale about the guy who wasn’t in his right mind and Wanda found not caring too much about what had happened to the guy.

 Pietro would be so jealous, if he could only see who she was psychically close to.  Well, he might be a little frightened for his baby sister.  Pietro also laboured under the delusion that Wanda needed to be protected. Something which Wanda found so funny, not when Wanda was always willing and able to play the long game, there was nothing better to her than being able to sow her seeds and watch them bloom.  Pietro had been told the exact same stories as her, that the Winter Soldier would be the one to guide them back into a position of strength, with the man’s help they might be able to run this World again. Wanda may have only seen the HYDRA as a means to an end, an end which included the downfall of Stark.

 Never again would Wanda have to hold some assholes hand, because everything seemed to be coming up Wanda again.  If only she could work out why she could access her magic, then nothing would be able to hold her back.

 She would just have to wait and bid her time, because everything was going to turn in her favour soon.