#can't believe we have a war hero in our presence

[incorrect-jojolands-quotes]

When I say I support the US military I'm talking about Paco Laburantes.

When I say I support US veterans I'm talking about Paco Laburantes.

Paco Laburantes: a man who truly served.

[satoshy12]

To forget the past is hard. Even if you try to ignore it.

Clockwork is Kronos.

Clockwork is visited by his ex-wife Rhea and she discuss their children and Kronos' disregard for them. Clockwork reveals that he thinks of them, with only a picture of Hestia and a large family portrait of Danny and Dani, while Rhea questions his intentions. They argue again.

++

Kronos, or Clockwork as he was now known, stood at his desk and adjusted his staff, knowing that someone would be visiting him in his home. The ticking of clocks filled the air of his lair in the Ghost Zone, he found it comforting as always. He turned slightly at the sound of a portal opening and sighed as the familiar figure stepped through. He had seen her coming and knew it. 

It was Titaness Rhea, his ex-wife, once Queen of the Titans, standing with an air of regal composure that eons of separation had not eroded. Her presence seemed to fill the room, her aura a subtle blend of authority and warmth. 

Clockwork stifled a groan. While he appreciated her rare visits, they always came with strings attached. What part of him that had changed and didn't need to see her all the time, or at all, didn't she understand?

"Clockwork," Rhea began, using his adopted name with strained politeness. She was still not used to calling him that, but she respected that he wanted to be called that. She crossed her arms and gave him a measured look. "It's been a while."

He turned to face her fully, his ghost tail now flying as he looked at her, hands clasped behind his back. "Indeed. I hope this is a fleeting visit, Rhea. I do have a schedule to keep."

Rhea's lips twitched, not quite a smile. "When is that not your excuse? Still, I wanted to see you. To talk." 

"About what?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. He hoped she would understand that he didn't want to talk about their children and their descendants. The less he thought about them, the better. 

"Our children," Rhea said, her tone pointed. "You've ignored them. Again."

Clockwork raised a brow, feigning confusion. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I've kept her in my mind. I even have a picture of one of them right here."

He gestured to his desk, where a very small but neatly framed photograph of Hestia rested; she wasn't looking at the camera as she worked at her hearth. He took the picture from one of his portals. Rhea followed his hand, her expression unimpressed. She can't believe he only had one picture of Hestia.

Rhea glanced at her ex-husband and wondered why she ever thought he cared. Even if he wasn't crazy anymore. 

Then she pointed behind him, to the huge family portrait that dominated the wall behind his desk. 

It was impossible to miss: a large painting, almost three metres high, showing Clockwork sitting on a chair in the centre, flanked by Danny Fenton and Ellie Fenton. The two half-ghosts stood confidently beside him, their expressions radiant with joy, and Clockwork also had a smile on his face. It had been so hard to get them both to behave the way the painter had painted the picture, so many hours. They couldn't sit still. But he liked the way it was going. 

"You were saying?" Rhea asked dryly.

Clockwork looked back at the portrait, then shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, as if talking about the weather. "Danny and Ellie are my apprentices. I look after them, guide them, teach them. So to speak. Not my children."

Rhea's brow furrowed, her patience waning. "And when exactly were you going to tell me about them? Or were you going to continue pretending I didn't exist for them? Or let me meet them."

Clockwork sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Rhea, we know how things turned out with the other five. I can handle this duo on my own. And Danny is a great hero, as is Ellie at the moment. Really great students."

The mention of their children - Hades, Hera, Poseidon, Zeus, Demeter and Hestia - hung heavily in the air. The bitter history of betrayal, war and broken family ties was not something any of them wanted to revisit. Or that Kronos wanted to talk about, let alone with his wife.

Still, Rhea glared at him, her anger simmering beneath the surface.

"You don't just start like that," she snapped. "Blaming me for how they got out! While praising the ones you took care of, how great heroes they are!"

Clockwork's tone became defensive. "I gave them stability, training and helped them find a purpose. Isn't that enough? Or would you rather I eat them? Or be given to me to eat."

Rhea's eyes flashed. "Don't you dare put that on me. You were the one who..."

"Yes, yes, I know," Clockwork interrupted, his voice uncharacteristically sharp. "The great betrayal I gave you, the swallowing of children, the rebellion of Zeus, how you hid the boy. We're past that, Rhea. I have moved on from the past. Perhaps you should too.

The argument spiralled from there, as it always did. Words turned to accusations, accusations turned to frustration. Rhea's voice grew louder, while Clockwork's remained icy, but no less cutting. The air in the cave grew heavy with tension, time itself seemed to slow under the weight of their unresolved grievances.

Finally, Rhea threw up her hands. "You are unbearable, Kronos!"

Clockwork stiffened at the use of his old name. "And you are implacable, Rhea."

Rhea took one last look at her husband and the painting behind him. Before she left.

"Silence at last. I really should not bet with my own powers whether she will visit or not."

[a-french-coconut]

Athena x Ares

She looks with disdain at the war unfolding below her.

So much carnage, so much mortality.

Ares must be basking in the bloodbath he created.

Her half-brother unfurls mixed emotions within her being.

What they share in common is what divide them.

Athena is tactical, she is who whispers in the mind of generals about great plans. She stands from afar, away from the front line.

Ares is a soldier on that front line, he is covered in blood while he fights alongside the mortals.

He is brutal, fearless, rushing into combat before she has time to design a plan worthy of victory.

And no matter how much he hates it, he embodies the soldiers who obey the generals she guides.

In the spectrum of war, they stand at the opposite of each other.

Her eyes narrow when she sees him amongst the soldiers.

He is not allowed to mingle on a such level and he knows it.

So does their father, whose punishments are not to deal with slightly.

Ares, the King is watching you.

She sees him stiffen, clearly debating if his soldier's life are worth what awaits him, but he does not vanish from the battlefield.

Ares, you fool, come back on Olympus now !

Her hands grip her spear tightly as dark clouds gather right above her brother who he still standing amongst the mortals.

He will kill them if you stay.

Thunder rumbles, the last warning from their father before he acts on.

Ares disappears in flash and the storm is avoided.

"Why must you always be so defiant ?" She asks to him, feeling his presence behind her.

He shrugs, placing his shield next to her spear, and watches with her the battle.

"They will lose without me." He says, hands gripping the balcony, "it's not fair."

"It's war."

"And yet Father prohibits me from intervening, in my own domain." He snarls, the balcony reduced to dust.

"Our domain," she corrects him, "we both share war in this pantheon, Ares."

He laughs, a mirthless sound showing his blood stained teeth.

"Your definition of war is pathetic."

Anger rises in her as she turns to face him.

"I'm not the one relishing in carnage and blood."

She takes a step forward, fury boiling in her at the insult.

"If one of us is pathetic, Ares, it's you." She snarls, ignoring the clenching of his jaw, "Unable to control your very domain. And do not forget that your precious soldiers are my generals' pawns to move as they see fit."

His red eyes flash, an aura of rage glowing around him as he refuses to back down and also gets closer.

"You call me bloodthirsty but do you even hear yourself ?" He hisses. "Calling them pawns, as if they are mere objects to move around !"

"You're a hypocrite Athena, a prideful goddess boasting about protecting heroes when in reality you send to die the real heroes."

He's screaming at her, towering over her as his divine essence shows.

"I can't believe I spent the last eons loving you !" He roars, whole body trembling with fury.

His words are a shock, a spear piercing her heart.

He is silent, tense and looking everywhere but her.

She waits for him to back track, to justify himself but he stubbornly doesn't say anything.

"You-"

"Yes." He cuts her, "I love you." he repeats with a certain sadness and resignation.

"You can't imagine how much I hated myself for it." He chuckles bitterly, "to love you as you embody everything I stand against, the massacre of soldiers as if they didn't matter, the generals safe in their bunkers are they watch, not a drop of blood staining their clothes."

"Ares," she says with caution, "I have sworn an oath of virginity, one I take very seriously and that I don't intend to break-"

"I never expected from you to do so." He sighs, picking up his shield. "Love doesn't have to be carnal, in my eyes at least."

"I... I wouldn't have expected that from you."

"I stopped trying to impress you a long time ago." He shrugs, "There was no point in trying when I already knew you despised me for what I represent."

Ares gives her a bitter smile, tinted with sadness.

"Nobody loves war, after all."

Her mind is in a frenzy, trying to compute his words and the fact that he's leaving.

She is unprepared for the yearn in her heart when she sees him leave.

They stand at the opposites of war.

What's that phrase Aphrodite rants about every time an unlikely couple is formed ?

Opposites attract.

"I do." She whispers, "I love war."

Somehow, the wind carries her words and Ares stops walking.

When he turns, there is a vulnerability she has never seen in his eyes.

"I'm not one of your pawn, Athena," he warns her, "if this is a game for you, don't even try to include me."

"It's not a game," she says firmly, "I do feel something for you."

She gets closer to him, since he is glued to his spot.

"We are both patrons of the same domain," she reasons, "it is natural for us to have a special bond."

"As long as you respect my vows, I am ready to love you Ares. And I suppose we can still have demigods children."

"You don't mind that I sleep with mortal women ?" He asks surprised, "or men ?"

"As long as it purely physical, no."

Quick as the wind, she conjures her spear and place it under his throat.

"Should you dare break those conditions while you are with me, you will regret it I assure you." She threatens him.

Ares only smiles, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Is fighting going to be our love language ?" He conjures his own spear and shield, deflecting her attack.

Athena takes a defensive stance, waiting for Ares to make the first move.

"I hope you don't mind losing." She taunts him.

"Not against you."

She rolls her eyes, even though she blushes, and block with Aegis Ares' strike.

"How do you think our family is going to take the news ?" She asks him, making a jab at his unprotected side.

"I think Artemis is going to kill me." He groans, dodging her spear.

"I won't let her." She slams him with her shield, sending him on the ground.

He kicks her, making her lost balance and falling too as he gets up.

He is stronger than her physically, but she is more strategic.

Instead of trying to get up, she grabs him and pulls him down.

He is too surprised to respond when she kisses him.

It's quick, just long enough for her to straddle him and place a knife under his throat.

"I win." She says smugly.

He doesn't respond, still dazed.

"Men, all it takes is a kiss." She scoffs, getting up.

"We should fight more often." He offers, still on the ground.

"And we will," she answers, amused, "but right now, we have a meeting to attend. Get up."

When they enter the room at the same time, Aphrodite blows a kiss to Athena, the goddess of love squealing quietly, earning herself a weird look from Artemis.

[eowynstwin]

same anon who sent the ask abt price: MW3's writing was embarrassing tbh. i agree 100% that narratively, its the most logical and sensible for price to be the one who takes the fall. what you wrote i flat out completely agree with, and its deeply disappointing that we are stuck with an extremely poorly written and rushed story. the game was a hot steamy pile. everyone was slightly out of character, they all growled their lines like mad dogs, and the missions were ass. i cant believe no one talks about the mission where you get anti arab hate crimed. what was that??? what was the reason??? (the only thing i liked about that game were the 9 minutes of nikolai. i just find him entertaining.) i was replaying mw2019 while super high and got to the mission where you threaten the butchers wife and son and just thought to myself; that lady and that kid are gonna have nightmares about price for the rest of their lives. that room is going to come back to them again and again and again. they literally did nothing wrong except the crime of being the butchers family. what price and gaz did is never going to leave them, and gaz was right to question price on that. of course, the game doesn't care at all. they're disposable NPCS for a shock value scene. i dunno, the fact that the game doesn't really give a fuck, and seemingly even condones what happened, just kinda hit different and i had to put the game down for the evening. i guess that hit at that moment bc i had also read a fic a bit earlier where the reader was price's civvy gf and gets kidnapped by his enemies. it bent my brain a bit bc, the thing in the fic is literally a canon event perpetuated by price, portrayed as a good thing by the source material, that now price is the victim of. it was a very weird feeling for my weed addled brain to try and process. think i blue screened actually. i wanna put price in a jar and shake him vigorously. pin him to a board like a entomology insect. i want to bite him. i do love him i swear. but maybe make him actually face a single real consequence for his war crimes? (disappointing that it will never happen on screen bc these games are all gas no breaks outright propaganda. not to mention real war crimes are happening constantly in front of everyone's eyes and going completely unpunished) sorry this is really long, i have no one to talk to abt these games and i dont understand my feelings toward that British man

Yeah. The thing about Price is that he's not a good person in the slightest. We write fiction about the kind of man he can be--the best version of himself, a version we can all stomach--but the real Price is distinct from that, and the best people in this fandom recognize that.

Soap and Ghost have some plausible deniability simply because we haven't seen them doing anything other than action movie stuff. Gaz is on the road to becoming Price--Price is doing his damndest to turn Gaz into himself--but he isn't there yet. (@391780 did a GREAT analysis of the driving scene in mw19 and how Price subtly manipulates Gaz, but I can't find it.)

EDIT: Early kindly provided.

We, as the audience, are not actually supposed to worry that much about the Butcher's family, because Price is one of the Good Guys who would never let something Bad actually happen. Infinity Ward does not take the Butcher's family seriously, and does not want us to take the family seriously, because they are just a convenient vehicle with which to move the plot along. Their presence is, in the end, shock value. We are meant to stare, wide-eyed, wondering is Price really going to go that far? while in the back of our minds knowing of course he's not, because he's our hero. He's just doing whatever it takes. The family is not meant to be anything other than fodder for Price's characterization.

Same with Samara. We are not supposed to care all that much about her, personally--we're supposed to marvel over Makarov's canny brutality, his bRiLLiANcE in recognizing the obvious fact that an Arab woman would make a perfect scapegoat for a plane bombing. Samara does not matter to MW3. Only the shocking way she dies. None of these Arab characters matter to Call of Duty--only the entertainment value of their pain.

Not to put too fine a point on it, but I am reminded of when Price threw a man restrained into a bomb jacket off a balcony, with not a shred of remorse afterword. I'm forced to ask the question--who would Price scapegoat, then, if he felt justified enough?

And yeah, he's never going to suffer the consequences of his actions, because Infinity Ward doesn't think he's actually done anything wrong. We throw the word propaganda around a lot without actually defining it, but Price is emblematic of how the propaganda of Call of Duty works. Price does something reprehensible, and is shown to be justified in doing it--implying that real men like him are justified, too, because don't you understand how little choice Price had? Don't you get that there's no good choice to be made? This is how he has to act, and this is how all soldiers have to act, because war is a dirty business, and someone needs to be willing to do it for the benefit of the ignorant public.

The question of why any of this should be happening at all is never asked.

[doctorofmagic]

Sage: We're sorry to have snuck in, but-- Domino: --we can't walk through the front door of any building right now. Sage: We know our presence here is a risk to you, Dr. Strange, and we appreciate your-- Domino: Help us figure out this @#$% ring and we'll leave. Dr. Strange: Show me. And as for your current status in the world, the embittered politics of humans don't particularly concern me. You're welcome here.

I really need to talk about this for a moment because it's important not only to break some biased opinions on certain fandoms but also as a whole characterization for Stephen.

I mean, I'm on Twitter, it's hell everyday. But in particular there's this habit of certain X-stans of jumping into certain groups' throats like the F4 and the Avengers. And there are indeed... takes that make me believe some people don't actually read the stories. A common one is always accusing this or that character of siding with or supporting Orchis, the anti-mutant group responsible for the genocide in Krakoa and the mutants' current illegal status on Earth.

I don't have the total picture/knowledge of the aforementioned groups, despite knowing they are heroes and thus would never fight alongside fascists (no matter how hard Bendis wanted them indeed to look like fascists in CW I and II). But I can and will speak on Stephen's behalf. And these people will never have anything to support this biased idea that every non-mutant hero is against mutants, especially when it comes to the Sorcerer Supreme. He has helped them MANY times, including moments of conflict between humans and mutants (or inhumans and mutants or whatever). Point is, at least, Stephen is safe. I wish I didn't have to make this kind of post since it's pretty obvious that Stephen vowed to protect all lives, has practically a daughter figure in Illyana and fully supported Wanda when she still was a mutant. And yet, here we are.

Stephen has broken the law before (New Avengers v1 post Civil War, Civil War II, Cates' run when he worked as a veterinarian, when he stole a whole dinner table from a hotel to feed the homeless in Defenders v1 etc). The truth is, he does not care if it means to help people. He's not afraid of it. And I'm always glad to have canon proof of that.

X-Force #45 (2023)

[isabeauwolf]

Anyone else get chills from Kenjiro Tsuda's voice? Just me? I love his role as Overhaul.

Found this YouTube video someone put together of all of Kai Chisaki, Overhaul's voice lines in the anime. His voice only!

Kai Chisaki dominates every scene that he's in! God, I hope our birdman comes back, so we can hear Kenjiro Tsuda's voicing him again!

I kid you not, when I say that I got chills listening to this video.

Show our yakuza birdman husband some love!

Are you fangirling as hard as I am? If so, share with me what you love about him. ;)

His confidence, character design, his voice, he's extremely attractive and his overall presence in every scene he's in. Dammit, I'm a sucker for bad boys. On top of him being stoic and aloof, not to mention his piercings and beautiful gold colored eyes. He's powerful and cocky in his own right, dangerous even. Who can blame him? He's practically The Fullmetal Alchemist without the equivalent exchange!

Was he overconfident and underestimated both The League and Deku, yes. Do I agree with what he did with Eri, of course not. But I do see the potential, as I've said before I still believe that many lives could have been saved from being lost. The current War arc could have changed, if Overhaul had completed The Serum he planned on making alongside The Quirk Erasing Bullets. The Heroes didn't know that part of the plan!

He had Twice, he could have made doubles of Eri, so the real Eri didn't need to be put through anymore torture at least, give the poor girl a break.

There are all kinds of unknown quirks in mha, and I'm sure there are other blood related ones out there besides Toga and Stain.

Overhaul could have carried empty casings of each bullet on his person before he got captured, and kept the real ones hidden, giving the big middle finger to Shigaraki!

What are your thoughts? Do you agree with me? Disagree? What other possibilities do you think could have worked to help Aline Overhaul with his goal while saving Eri or easing her burden?

Would you side with him? The League, or The Heroes? What about your OC's?

Sorry, for overly ranting and rambling about Kai Chisaki, Overhaul, again.... I can't help it! XD

[gugug4g4]

Indulge me, for Soo-Won can't let Lily go.

Kai Kingdom has retreated. The four dragons' sacrifice in the war led to Kouka's victory. With Princess Yona and the newly titled General Hak of Sky Tribe, out looking for the dragon heroes of Kouka; King Soo-Won is headed back to protect what is left of the heart of Kouka: the Hiryuu castle. The dragons' disappearance has mystifyingly coincided with the lifting of the crimson curse. The crimson disease that once wrapped around his majesty Soo Won like a shroud seemingly untightened its bounds. Letting him stand without every inch of his body fighting to fall beneath him. Who knows how long this peace shall last?

As the kefala of the king returned, they were greeted with the sight of the burnt castle. It lay bare with its bones howling in the wind surrounded by white disaster relief tents instead of the bustling tribe dwellings that stood in its place before the fire. Before the war. The smell of arson stretched out for miles in any direction as if the heartland itself was struck by the wrath of war. The only sense of relief came from the people hobbling across the white tents, providing heroic aid to all who needed it. As King Soo Won scanned the devastation, he noticed among them the midnight blue headed Lady Lilly, scurrying across his burnt home to distribute blankets to a fire-struck family. He had given her a fleeting thought when the news of the Hiryuu castle fire reached him at the battlefield. However, to him, his attachment to another had to be subsided to fulfill his duty as the king. The necessity to remain at the border of Kai and lead the whole of Kouka to victory outweighed his personal attachments. He had left his own bodyguard Hyu-Ri behind for a reason. Unadmittedly, her presence at the burning castle worried him so seeing her not only unharmed but leading relief efforts brought him a sense of solace he couldn't really explain. The ends of his lips curled into a slight smile as he watched her shout for her assistants to hurry along with the rest of the aid to the grief-stricken family. It is not unexpected, for the brash and naive lady Lilly to jump into any situation without a second thought if she believed she'd be helping another. Watching her scurry through the desolation, he couldn't help but acknowledge her kind of bravado as a useful tool to inspire hope among the people at home.

At the Sky tribe border, The few remaining guards announced his majesty's arrival. The ordinary people that gathered were all masked with darkened faces, looking up for any sense of hope from their king. Despite the sight, King Soo Won's face showed fortitude "My people, you are strong." he began. "For I return to you with the news, that we have won against the treacherous Kingdom of Kai. They have tried in the battlefield but the warriors of Kouka stuck down their attack! They then tried to furtively burn the heart of Kouka and yet again, our people stood their place and have driven them out." as he paused, hope began to rise in the people's hearts, their faces softening to murmur out cheers. " War though has a price and I have no doubt we lost a lot to it. Every man who died gave their life for a better Kouka. Every living being in front of me is a hero. Among you, the people who took it upon themselves to provide aid to one another are shining emblems of what it is to be the hero of Kouka. Every board, brick, and nail will be put back where it once stood and be commemorated with a ceremony. We will build Kouka back from the spoils of war!" His majesty ended. No sooner, the dispersed crowd broke out in cheers. His words were just the beginning, his majesty will indeed build back peace and security like a king should.

Upon his entrance into the remanent of the castle, Lily is the first to greet them running towards their fire-damaged living quarters. " Won you returned! You're alive!" She exclaimed. "Sorry... I mean Your Majesty" she stammered correcting herself. Soo-Won turns to face her, his mouth breaking out into a short laugh "I am sure some are glad to see you alive as well. I see the recovery efforts are ongoing". "yes ..., we have set up shelters for people affected by the fire. We have no time to waste, help is still going around ". His Majesty looks at Kye Sook and says "What are we waiting for, let us go see"

After touring the devastation with Lilly and helping the people" they come around to Ogis shop home "My king, devasted by the fire, There's no vacancy at inns" Lily torts, as they exhume exhaustion. lily suggests they can rest for the night.

As they rest for the night on the floor, letting the injured be on the bed. Jeda takes the first shift to guard. Soowon prepares to lay on the floor mat next to Kye Sook and catches in the corner of his eye as Lilly is slumped on one side overcome by exhaustion beside kye sook. Ignoring his tired body, he lays her on the floor mat. Looking for a while, he slowly shifts her to the side, making space and laying himself in between his advisor and herself. "she will be better protected this way" he thinks to himself. "The water tribe leader is coming out of war after fighting by his side, keeping his daughter safe would be important. "

As the morning sun crawls up the horizon Lily wakes up. She is greeted by Soowon "Lady Lily it's good to see you this morning" "Good morning Your Majesty." she grumbles. As Lily got ready for the day, she casually remarked "I'm glad to see you are well Won. Your skin has color now". He replies"I didn't know you took such particular interest in my health, much less my skin. But not to worry lady Lilly, there are always new things to take my color away." She snorts "You just won a war, what would possible drain your color any further?" Soowon turns to look at her "For one the will of the people has to be unified after the war and it would be in the benefit of the nation for the king to marry"

"oh a queen for you? who is on that sorry list?" lily jokes

After a moment's pause, Soo Won studies Lili's face and asks "Would you marry me and be the queen of Kouka?"

"huh? Me?!" lily answers, shocked to her core by that question coming out of his majesty's mouth

"Lady Lily i believe it is a good choice. you are strong-willed though brash. The castle will always know what your intentions are and you hold the capability to keep the heart of Kouka together. Though i fear for your impulsive behavior in the castle but that can be managed."

"Could you possibly make this proposal any more blunt and unromantic?" she wanted to ask but refrained. Instead, she answers "You are joking, right? I thought you never wanted to get married?"

"There was no benefit in marriage until now. It's simply what must be done for the good of our nation" Soowon Replies. It's not like him to lay out his intentions clear as day in any conversation. But with Lily, it is just so much easier to do so rather than face her barrage of questions until she is satisfied with answers. She is so headstrong it's quite... fascinating. As good as he is at remaining stoic, Lily has a way of surprising him.

He gets snapped back to reality as Lily bursts into laughter consequently slapping the table. She is so boisterous and loud as well. The people like her though. No, they love her. Something in him liked her bravado as well. He has not cared much about his own friendships for the betterment of the country. His dad wanted a king and the king could not care about his own interest. After all, Lily would be good for the kingdom of Kouka. She looked after the castle in his absence and the people took a liking to the lady. Right at the clasp of taking over another state, the people's home has to have a strong unison and marriage allows that. There are other candidates though. Maybe the princess of Xing Princess Kouka would allow the advantage of bringing the states together. Hak and Yona have solidified the wind tribe. The fire tribe women of age could be an adequate candidate. Earth tribe has yet to have noble women of age. Yet he wanted the unruly one causing a spectacle right before him. He shook away his desire asking himself "Why is it that my judgment is so clouded by her thought?! "Surely I will marry whoever carries the ideals most benefitting Kouka's Queen. It doesn't have to be Lady Lilly" He convinces himself.

"There are other candidates on the list so no need to worry if you rather not take on the role, Lady Lily" He torts finally

"That's a relief, did my dad put you up to this? Won you don't have to listen to him, and beside I would continue doing all sort of shenanigans to achieve goals I set my eyes on, be it to your liking or not. Wouldn't you rather have a queen who would abide by your customs?"

"The kingdom needs a queen that can be a symbol of strength, not a docile one. When your dad suggested you as queen, the other tribes generally thought of it as a good idea. As you mentioned there are risks involved with you a queen but it was discussed to have outweighed by the benefits"

"wow you are so romantic Soo-Won," Lily remarks sarcastically unable to hold herself back any longer.

"Think about it" is all he replies as he stands up to head out of the room.

lily had been friends with Soowon for a little while now. They have come to spend more time together as her dad suggested the Hiru castle books to be helpful for her volunteer work at the tribe's school center. King Soo-Won was kind to allow access to the library before it burned. However, He is still a peculiar man, often warm and often distant. A slave to his duties. There is this nagging thought of his selflessness. He has betrayed his own for the betterment of this country. She understood the complexity of his role. Not too kind-hearted either. Also, where is this man's beard? He's too young, she preferred a greater age difference. particularly men with stubble. like Gang Tae.. why must the good man be married? Wait a minute, Gung Tae being a general knows of this plan as well? How embarrassing. It doesn't matter though, as long as she gets to exercise her freedom and help her people along the way, she can take on whatever is thrown at her. She has come to like being in the political field and making a difference in the water tribes' areas. Lily never thought she would get married and be couped up in the castle.

"King Soo-Won, your majesty. I am honored but I cannot accept. Thank you for thinking about me "

Soo-Won smirked, politeness doesn't suit her he thought. "You're welcome. Please come to victory festivals in the coming week. The queen candidates will be there. Your presence would be appreciated just at least as a formality.

Days later, as he delved into his book of social development his thoughts ran. He had expected as much from Lily but it was worth asking. It wasn't like him to get stuck on a personal thought. He categorized his thoughts perfectly well into different boxes. He would have never thought of having a queen but a lot has changed recently. To move this country forward he needs a queen. He doesn't particularly want anybody else to be all up in his business. However, that young lady of the water tribe has been one of the few he does not mind sticking around. Born of a noble yet fiercely a force for the people. She does not care to curate her perception. Far Too blunt. That is precisely what caught his attention. He thought of her as naive but during his time away at war he has come to miss that brutally honest tongue of hers. Perhaps the agitating voice telling him that all boxes of thought can not be hyper-compartmentalized and stored away is not wrong. He has been proven wrong a few times lately. He didn't give much thought to Yona the night he killed King II. He wanted revenge for his father and Kouka had to be brought out of its misery. Separate matters he convinced himself. His father taught him to never believe in making mistakes but perhaps he should have. He has made a mistake with how he handled his friends that night and he has been atoning for it. He would not like to make a mistake with Lily. Perhaps she is better off without him by her side.

"It doesn't matter, he has other candidates, he was just going through the list." Soowon thought to himself. lily insisted in vain as Tetra and Ayura prepared Lily's appearance for the festival. As the evening roared with life with the fiery dances and chaos of the townspeople, the delegation began to arrive. Kye Sook presented each one and as he greeted each one, it came the water tribe's turn with lily. "She changed her hair ribbons to a one with spider lilly pattern, It sticks out," he thought to himself. Soo-won smiled as big as the sun, welcoming his allies and their potential ties. Chatters of joy at the victory and mention of the social programs to save the Sky tribe's city have made the people happy. They were eager for their King to choose their Queen.

As the ceremony started, there came a time when the king had to ask his candidate questions. He already knew everything there was to know about these candidates. Humoring the custom was the duty of the king thus he asks the first " Would you consider yourself awfully loud and need months before people take a liking to your personality? ". The question for the next ones went as follows " Do you put yourself at risk and refuse to listen when you have a goal in mind? Do you never take no for an answer? Have you ever sneaked out to catch criminals? Do you habitually ask your friend audacious questions without fear of its consequences? " The Candidates to say the least were unamused. Only one candidate would answer yes to all the questions as silly as they are. It dawns on him he was describing Lilly.

"Perhaps a quick threat to the water tribes about its loyalty to the throne would work to persuade Lady Lily's mind to take my hand." Soo Won calculates. Just as soon, as his other thought box breaks open to negate "She is quite sensitive, She would be hurt by my actions despite the bravado she puts on". How annoying it is to consider individual sentiments when making decisions for the kingdom. Soo-Won stares at her black hair wrapped in spider lily and quips out loud " Getting a queen and lily are separate matters". General Joo Dah nearby teases " Your majesty, is that so? Your stare says otherwise". King politely laughs with a blush spreading over his face.

" Has one of these beautiful ladies caught your fancy?" Kay Sook asked eager to join any conversation pertaining to the thone's lineage. Truth be told, Soo-Won didn't notice anybody else. He researched every candidate beforehand and they would all be suitable with different advantages. However, the one that keeps coming back to his mind is the curious ball of watery spirit decorated with spider lily tonight. Socially adept as he may be he couldn't grasp why Lady Lily stirred such curiosity within him. Why was he so enamored with the idea of Lady Lilly as his Queen? A part of himself, a part he did not wish to show, was scared he might have formed a weakness for the lady's convictions. She has slowly become his only friend ever since he took over the throne, confronting and accepting cold parts of himself even his own mother couldn't bear to speak about. With the debleating crimson disease, he wouldn't dream of entangling anyone in his life much less someone he wished to protect. Now, after the war, circumstances have changed. The time he thought was so limited, unfurled itself to reveal a possibility of a future. Impartial as he was, Soo Won was only human. "Indulge me, for I do not wish to let her go." Soo Won mutters.

" I did not take our king to be so passionate about a lady. Who are we speaking about ?" Kye Sook asks in astonishment. "Lady Lily. She would be best received by our people. That unity is needed to move forward after the war." Soo-Won confirms to Kay Suek.

"So as long as we have heirs," Kay Suek remarks unapologetically.

ORIGINAL WORK. DO NOT COPYRIGHT. Give proper credit to @gugug4g4

[zapreportsblog]

↱ held captive ↰

➘ summary : the league of villains not only capture one student from UA but in fact twi students and oh would you look at that, they both got powerful quirks

➘ Dabi x reader, league of villains x reader

The moon hung low in the night sky as the League of Villains executed their audacious plan. The target was Katsuki Bakugo, a fiercely talented young hero-in-training with a quirk that held immense potential. But what they didn't expect was to find themselves with an unintended captive—(Y/N), a hero with an omni-manipulation quirk.

Trapped within the confines of the League's hideout, (Y/N) struggled against the restraints that bound her. She glared at the villains around her, her determination evident despite her dire circumstances. Dabi, his eyes dancing with amusement, sauntered over.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Dabi purred, a smug smile playing on his lips.

(Y/N) shot him a defiant look, her quirk emanating a subtle aura of power that sent shivers down the spines of those around her. "Let me go. You're making a big mistake if you think you can control me."

Dabi's grin only widened as he leaned in, his voice low and tantalizing. "I don't intend to control you, sweetheart. I just think you could bring something interesting to our team."

(Y/N)'s eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering within them. "You're out of your mind if you think I'd ever join you."

Dabi's casual demeanor didn't waver, his confidence unshaken. "You're a hero in training, technically. And heroes don't always see the bigger picture, do they? The world isn't as black and white as you've been led to believe."

(Y/N)'s quirk flared, the air around her shimmering with a display of her power. "Don't try to manipulate me with words, Dabi."

Dabi chuckled, unfazed by her show of strength. "I'm not manipulating you, doll. I'm offering you a choice—a chance to embrace your true potential without the constraints of hero society."

(Y/N)'s resolve wavered, a war of emotions playing out on her face. She was torn between her duty as a hero and the allure of the freedom Dabi promised. As the League's actions echoed in her mind, the very fabric of her beliefs seemed to fray.

Dabi's gaze bore into hers, his expression intense. "Think about it. We're a family that doesn't shy away from who we are. We're not confined by rules, and we're not afraid to take action. With your quirk, you could reshape the world."

(Y/N) remained silent, the weight of her decision heavy on her shoulders. Dabi's words had struck a chord, resonating with the doubts that had lingered in her mind for so long.

As the night wore on, (Y/N) found herself trapped not only physically but mentally, grappling with the choices that lay before her. The League's offer had disrupted her sense of certainty, and Dabi's flirtatious advances had ignited a spark of curiosity.

And as the moon continued its journey across the sky, (Y/N) faced a crossroads that would forever alter her path—a choice between the hero she had trained to be and the freedom the League of Villains promised her.

As the days turned into nights within the confines of the League's hideout, (Y/N)'s internal struggle continued. Dabi's presence was a constant reminder of the choice she had to make, his enigmatic charm and persuasive words chipping away at her resolve.

"You know, doll, heroes like you often end up disillusioned," Dabi remarked one evening, his voice carrying a hint of sympathy.

(Y/N) sighed, her fingers tapping against the table as she considered his words. "I've always believed in doing the right thing, even if it's difficult."

Dabi leaned against the wall, his gaze steady on her. "But what if the 'right thing' is just a perspective, a mask that hides the true complexities of the world?"

(Y/N)'s quirk flared unconsciously, her emotions sending ripples through the air. "I can't just turn my back on everything I've learned. Heroes protect innocent lives."

Dabi's smirk was both infuriating and enticing. "And villains fight for a world where power isn't dictated by the few at the top."

Their debates continued, each conversation leaving (Y/N) more torn than the last. Dabi's presence challenged her ideals, forcing her to confront the shades of gray that she had been blind to. As the League's actions unfolded around her, her perspective began to shift, however reluctantly.

One night, as (Y/N) sat alone in her cell, Dabi's voice echoed in her thoughts. She had always thought of heroes and villains as distinct entities, opposing forces in an unending battle. But what if the lines were blurred? What if the reality she had been raised to believe wasn't as clear-cut as it seemed?

Dabi's steps echoed in the corridor as he approached her cell. "You've been quiet lately, doll. What's on your mind?"

(Y/N) turned to him, her expression a mixture of uncertainty and determination. "I need to know more about your cause. What you're fighting for."

Dabi's gaze held a glimmer of something akin to triumph. "Finally curious, huh? Come with me."

He led her through the hideout, revealing the League's operations and their goals—the desire to challenge the current system, to break free from the chains of a society that had failed so many. As (Y/N) listened, her heart raced, her mind grappling with the realization that their intentions weren't entirely malevolent.

Back in her cell, (Y/N) leaned against the wall, her emotions in turmoil. Dabi's voice resonated in her thoughts, a reminder of the complexities of the world she lived in. Could she truly reconcile her hero identity with the newfound doubts that had been sown in her mind?

The moonlight filtered through the small window, casting shadows across the room. (Y/N) closed her eyes, her thoughts a whirlwind of uncertainty. Her quirk, omni-manipulation, had the power to reshape reality itself, but could she also reshape her beliefs?

In the midst of the night, (Y/N) faced a pivotal choice—one that would determine not only her own fate but the role she would play in the battle between heroes and villains. And as dawn approached, her decision remained suspended in the balance, waiting to be tipped one way or the other.

[zahri-melitor]

And...done with New 52 Gotham

There's a handful of additional titles I'm finishing rounding up (at the last minute I decided to go back and read Batwing, and I'm going to read the Poison Ivy mini) but I have now completed my main read.

The good: I've got a list of comic recommendations coming for what I would actually suggest reading in here if you want an entertaining story, or runs that I think are crucial in that they establish character traits that will continue to be heavily used from Rebirth onwards.

But for now, some general comments on what I've just finished up:

Batman - Snyder is very, very interested in making a statement. And with set pieces interrogating the 'mentality of Batman'. Which gets tiring reading in such a big chunk - he needed more time letting the story breathe and the tension come off. Where's my fill with Bruce chasing Mad Hatter? Not everything needs to be a deep interrogation of the psyche of Batman, and how his presence transforms Gotham city. Jim Gordon as Batman was certainly a thing that happened, and probably didn't need to happen.

Detective Comics - Manapul & Buccellato's run remains the highlight for me. Tomasi, who had the final run (45-52) was incredibly uneven. The first story, about Jim!Batman and the Justice League, was relatively boring. The second story, The Bronze Age, was a compelling mystery and probably the best Jim Gordon as Batman story of the lot. The third story, Our Gordon At War, was a deadly dull piece of military propaganda.

Batman & Robin Eternal - what worked here I think was the extensive supporting cast. It reminded me of the glory days of the early 2000s when Dick and Babs used to run Bat events together with no Bruce. On the downside was that Mother was simply uninteresting to me as she twisted everyone's character to make everything about her. No, I don't actually believe that the Order of St Dumas would let a rando be controlling their potential Azrael. Also way to eliminate basically all of David Cain's autonomy and decisions. It was nice to get Cass back. Shame about how it was achieved. (The incredibly frustrating part about this run is on paper it looks amazing, and there's a handful of decent scenes people like to reference)

Batgirl - ugh. Was ever 'right ideas wrong characters' more embodied than during Burnside? If it was a different character, or a prequel, or I had hit my head back in 1987 after reading the Last Batgirl Story and then picked up Burnside...I could almost cope. But it's just aggravating to read about a character I love so much. I actually don't mind the work to add additional diverse side characters, however I'm sorry, I will remain irritated by Frankie until the end of time. The number of times I have had to sit through reinventions of the Oracle role during n52 because oh no we can't use the REAL ORACLE... because running around as a street hero is clearly more important than Oracle's actual role.

Robin: Son of Batman - I think I'm going to make a lot of people mad when I say, while this is a very interesting Damian Wayne comic, it's a moderately dreadful Robin comic. I can see why people heavily recommend it for Damian, because it's probably the most generous and thought through portrayal of his childhood and relationship with Talia. The word 'Son' there in the title really should be the focus. This is about Damian as a Son of the Al Ghuls, Damian making choices over what he's learnt as Bruce's son before his death, and applying what he learnt from both to find who he is. It's something Damian needed. But it's got nothing to do with being Robin at all.

We are Robin - I loved the brutal groundedness of this comic. It smacks you in the face to pay attention several times. It's about teens, yes. It's about Alfred facilitating children to try and help them survive trying to become vigilantes. It's about what the concept of Robin means to the children of Gotham.

Grayson - I don't think it was using Helena-in-name-only, or the constant objectification of Dick or even the way my brain couldn't slot exactly how all the different secret agencies in DC were revolving around each other into place for this story that irritated me the most. It was how obvious, blatant and unadapted a rip off of James Bond (among other spy properties) it tended to be. I could see the file marks, and a lot of it didn't even feel like a loving homage, it was just "oh my favourite scene was" sort of stuff. Oooh St Hadrian's is a cheap St Trinian's knock off. Whoever would have guessed. Trinian's girls would have run circles around the Hadrian's ones.

Gotham Academy - Look, this is lighthearted fluff that enjoys picking up threads from all over Gotham to reference. I'm not particularly a fan of Brendan Fletcher's general approach to DC storytelling - it's a bit too tween and lighthearted for me - but this is a title where that style was an asset rather than a burden. It didn't require high levels of canonicity because people flitted in and out and the main cast were all original creations for the story. I can see why it's well-loved.

[mrbigbrother]

The Black Cat (1934) an early horror classic with a dark revenge storyline.

Edgar Allan Poe may never be truly adapted to the screen due to the nature of his work. The Black Cat is a story of a diseased man with an intense and all consuming horror of cats. And that is all that makes it into universals first of only two attempts to adapt Poe in some form.

Bela Lugosi plays (Dr. Werdegast) the closest thing to a hero that he was ever allowed to. It shows that he was capable of playing characters that weren't always evil or demented. At least for a little while until the Dr. finally gets his revenge. We can see that there is a decent man who would still not see the young couple be mixed up in his game, either out of kindness, or out of worry that they could interfere. "where the soul is slowly killed." says everything we need to know, and there is no one living or dead actor that could have played this character better. There is something truly sinister in the performance, about his desire for revenge that led him to doing something to Poelzig that is poetic and deserved, but equally disturbing and gruesome. I also enjoyed The Raven (1935) that gave Lugosi the chance to go further with this sinister performance. In that film, I like to think that maybe it was a what if Werdegast survived, but after torturing his worst enemy to death, he became addicted to it. Now that would make for a fine fan edit.

'The skinning scene effectively uses the power of suggestion to convey the horrible deed with shadows, and somehow that makes it more shocking. Horror isn't always seen, but it can always be felt. I don't need to show you a man being skinned alive to scare you; If the characters are strong enough, it only takes a good director to use the power of suggestion to get under peoples skin (pun intended.)

That's the beauty of horror fiction, as it is an exploration of the feeling that pushes our minds into new territories to meditate on. Is that not what Poe did? Just as Poe was an early pioneer of the genre in his time, so was early horror cinema in the 30s.

I wish that this film was longer and had more to it than a little more than an hour runtime. Werdegast's fear of cats doesn't really play much into the plot save for a few moments. It could suggest that the inuman torture he lived through as a P.O.W. involved cats in some way maybe. That and the fact that his daughter was alive with Poelzig, didn't add any real stakes to the story like it should have, other than showing the cruelty and madness that both men share for each other. The production is nothing shy of what was as good a film that was being made at the time. Every shot is a dreadful and haunting image of this pleasure palace built on war scorned land that tells just as much of the story. The music isn't bad; overbearing at times, but can be striking in other sequences. Performances that are not only career highlights, but do stand tall. These are truly fleshed out and ghastly men stalmated in their game of death, that I have no problem believing has lasted for decades.

Boris Karloff plays maybe his most menacing and inhumanly evil character ever; and yet Poelzig is as mortal as we. Not a man sewed together from body parts, or a thousand year old mummy who woke up and went for a little walk. nope. Poelzig is just a man that is as soul dead as Werdegast from his time in the war. Only he is a satanic priest of his own coven who has guests over for rituals and sacrifices of beautiful women who can't resist his charms. Oh and he tends to keep them on display as well...The satanic elements not coming off as over the top or campy like other works about satanic cults. It's just an element to his character. Which satanism is more about worship of the self rather than the devil. And I could see Poelzig as being so vane to sacrifice people to himself as he fancies himself his own dark lord. Boris had a screen presence that was and is still unmatched. He was able to generate such a real tangible menace without speaking a word. And this was one of the first films that allowed him to speak dialogue, and that gave him the opportunity to show how soft and hypnotizing his voice was. When he speaks, we listen. When he is silent, we feel his very auro that echoes despite being without a soul; that people are just objects at his disposal.

The Black Cat (1934) is a truly effective horror film that realizes its horror through great characters and the legendary performances behind them. It is a trip to the darkest depths that a man's soul is capable of descending to. One consumed by the evil of his actions and only able to find peace when others are suffering; and the other consumed by a hatred that slowly killed his very own soul, and has come all this way to lay about 15 years worth of wraith upon him.

It is a great film, but I have to admit that it isn't a very good adaptation of Poe. And I don't blame it for that. Maybe it wasn't supposed to be. I see how the story has influenced many elements of the screenplay. I also have to say, that a remake wouldn't be a bad idea here if universal decides to do so. I doubt it would happen; It didn't have mainstream appeal then, and it doesn't now. But I would love to see some talented filmmakers explore the ideas and characters further. Robert Eggers comes to mind; he would understand, and would go to great pain staking lengths to achieve the same surreal malice, that universal achieved almost 90 years ago.

[fullmtal]

HAPPY NEW YEAR'S FT LILY & ED / YOU MADE IT !

Whoa the year sure as hell went fast and slow huh? I'll try to keep this short and as much as I'd like to tag all of you, I'm so lucky to have so many neat people I've gotten to know on my second year of writing Edward on Tumblr! Anyone who knows me knows how impossibly important he is to me as a fave, and many other people, and I love talking to said people and sharing in the overall Fullmetal Alchemist love, be it the character or the series itself!

Thank you listening to me this year, and for being so patient! I know sometimes it's hard to discern genuine words but I really mean it when I say my dash has so much talent and heart. All of you bring something with your portrayals, and all of you above all I hope are having fun no matter what hardships you face, I'll likely never know, but I am here to listen or simply be a fun writing partner to hopefully add some energy to your day. This year was...hard.

I lost my grandmother, who to me was a second mother. A lot of things just happened, and it felt like I was drowning most of the time! But you know what? A lot of good still happened. I've made some amazing friends and they've supported me so much. To you reading this, whether we interact, have yet to interact, talk, message or call each other in Discord or via text in IMS? You helped me through what I know some things will be life long hardships, but also a lot of joy too. And I'm so grateful for that.

I really love Edward Elric. I can't stress it enough but before I knew what a favorite was he was my favorite. That really hasn't changed much. He introduced me to animanga and to what can be done when fiction is at its finest. He became more than a hero in a story to little old me. He became a friend. I'm sure all of us with our favorites have similar sentiments, and whatever drives your energy, I really really hope you follow it in the New Year. You don't have to make a to-do-list or anything you don't want to do.

Just live. Be healthy as best as possible. If you're in trouble reach out here or to people near you in the world in the physical sense. Know your dash, people followed you for a reason and a lot of the time? It's out of interest in you as a person. You matter and it's a war we have with ourselves I know especially when the climate here can be rough sometimes but please don't give up on the faces and names of people I'm sure are waiting for us next year to interact!

Let's make this a safer place. Let's make it a kinder place. I know for myself I definitely want to engage more, reach out more, plot more and write more. My energy is back and I don't feel it as an obligation, but because there are so many faces I may never meet in person, but still have so much to offer to my life. Whatever you do next year, I may not know you, but you have my full support and you have my listening ear if you need a random strange little energetic gremlin on your dashboard.

Take a deep breath, and know that people here that you talk to love you. It's okay if you don't believe it, but I watch my dash and I admire so many of you. You're all on my dash for a reason and it's my goal to focus on writing much much more for my own enjoyment and to also hopefully bring the color your writing and presence gives me back to you! Did I mention I also want to make new friends too? Please please come over via IMS, Discord, or liking a single post and I will vroom your way faster than the cows in my hometown. Yes it's...uh kind of like Resembool here I'm not even joking. Help. If not? Watch out because Lily is coming! I'm going to make a real, genuine want to reach out and engage and let you know I see you and boy am I interested!

Thank you for meeting me! Thank you for being my friend! Thank you for being my mutual or a face or someone who was here briefly and just wanted to move along. Whatever you were, are or will be to me, I'm thankful for you and your life and I hope you're alright wherever you are!

And I really, really am sending all my strength and energy into hoping it's a kinder, softer year next year for all of us. One filled with things to laugh about, and to know we aren't alone. Thank you all so much! You've somehow made me become even more obsessed with Fullmetal Alchemist, my longest fandom, my home in many ways, even more, and Ed and I both mean it when I say thanks! Well, I'd shove him to say thanks if he were real!

Take a deep breath! We're all gonna be okay next year and do what's best for you, listen to your voice, not anyone else's, and remember, as hard as it is, if you need us, even a stranger like me, I'm always here!

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY! THANK YOU FOR BEING A PART OF MY LIFE HOWEVER BIG OR SMALL, AND I HOPE TO GO ON MANY ADVENTURES WITH YOU AND MEET THE 'YOU'S' I HAVEN'T BONDED WITH YET OR MET! THANK YOU FOR TAKING THE TIME TO FIND ME! IT MEANS MORE THAN I CAN SAY.

MUCH LOVE, LILY AND HER FULLMETAL PIPSQUEAK!

[fox-bright]

It’s very quiet now at night.

When I used to camp out with you, the evenings were always boisterous. Cheap, vile cider and coal-burned chicken in tin foil, you on that shitty guitar and me just singing. Whoever else wanted to come along did, of course—Tomas more often than not if he could get time away from the lab (or excuse our trips as data-collection fieldwork), Mona and Elspeth, one always there if the other was. Eric and Gunner and Carlo, various boyfriends and girlfriends, people who rotated in and out of the cast, but at the center of it—always you. Always me.

At the end of the evenings, late but still early enough that the stars hadn’t begun to wink out, we’d end up sprawled across the same sleeping bag, looking up. And you would talk about making a difference, being a hero, changing the world. All the goals you had, the places where you could see the fracture points in society; things where “Just a little bit of pressure would fix it.” If only you had enough power to exert.

“And I will. I can't pretend this is supposed to be normal,” you’d say, voice honey-thick and slow from alcohol and relaxation. “I'm gonna find a way to make it better. People are gonna know my name.”

I believed it. How could anybody imagine you’d ever be forgettable? But it wasn’t anything that I wanted for me. I’d let my eyes wander, picking out the blurry stars and thinking about poetry, and wonder if in that inevitable future you’d still remember me.

Funny how the world shakes out, sometimes.

If this were a normal war camp, sixty thousand bodies would make a lot of noise. But that’s really all they are, when I’m not paying attention—just bodies. They do their work, and then they put themselves away, quietly and neatly as a box of dolls. And the only tent here is my own; the weather can't hurt them.

Your own soldiers can feel fear, can be confused, can break rank and run. But mine could no more do that than my organs could decide to flee my body. And for every one you lose, I gain. Two thousand more this week, currently sitting silent and awaiting my attention.

It wouldn’t cost me any energy to keep them running, to give the camp the false appearance of life, but I don’t want to trouble them more than I need to. Even if they’re something like dreaming, when I’m paying attention there’s something there. And it didn’t ask to be forced to stick around.

And, I mean. Pretending that things are normal gets us into trouble, doesn’t it?

I finish up walking the wards, which I don’t really need to do either—I can tell when a squirrel comes past the boundary line, a human wouldn’t get within five hundred feet without getting my attention from a deep sleep—and return to my tent. One of the dead has run me a bath in the old tub we took from an abandoned farmhouse two days ago, and the crank-charge radio has a full battery, so I settle in to listen to the news.

The voice over the speaker is thin and tinny and false. “In light of the change of the seasons, curfews have been set to five PM; all citizens are required to be indoors before sunset. Reserve troops in Pennsylvania are prepared for the oncoming incursion. With the presence of Her Radiance in the city, citizens are already preparing for victory.”

God, I hate the news.

My control must be a little thready, or else I’m just leaking emotion all over the place, because the quiet listener in the corner of my tent starts to hum. It’s not a matter of vocal chords, exactly, but it’s soothing.

Between that and the hot water, I fall asleep.

In my dreams, it’s that last trip we ever all went on, the one that started out so normal. Drive the truck to the last paved campsite, then backpack two days into the woods, and the archaeological site you’d convinced Tomas would be great for his dissertation, and the shallow little cave with the low, unimpressive carving at the back. It didn’t look like much to me, but Tomas was sucking air in through his teeth like he’d faint if he didn’t concentrate on it.

“How did you know this was here?” Mona asked you, and you’d shrugged with one shoulder. “Intuition?”

And the feeling of disquiet that had been bubbling under my skin for the entire hike, of something being wrong with you but not knowing what, like just barely smelling the stink of a bear but not realizing it until I looked up and it was in the trail, that feeling just had time to key up into a fever pitch before something incredible made itself known.

It didn’t appear, because there was nothing to see. Only stones. Only dust.

It didn’t make noise, it had nothing to make noise with. There was no moaning of ghosts, there was no stink of ectoplasm, there was only—everything.

Bigger than galaxies. Hungrier than a black hole. And it turned its attention on us, and it ruined us.

What do you want?

It wasn’t asking in words. It was like a steel balloon shoved in through my ears and somehow still inflating; there wasn’t room for me in there, there wasn’t room for anything but the pain.

No room for lies.

What did I want? I wanted to go home and take a bath. I wanted to be back at the start of the trail and go the other way, I wanted to have said no, let’s stay in and make cookies. I wanted, most of all, to be small and unremarkable and brief.

It looked away from me with something like contempt, if contempt was the size of the moon.

I could hear Elspeth and Mona screaming, both at once. Tomas had stopped, almost right away; there was a sort of sick, bubbling wheeze from his direction, and then nothing.

But you.

You weren’t screaming.

You were whispering.

I couldn’t hear what it was you said. But oh—even if I couldn’t hear the words, I knew that voice. You sounded like you did on those late evenings, looking up. If only I was in charge. I could fix it. I could fix all of it.

Elspeth and Mona stopped screaming, and then stopped gasping. And I felt…drifty. The sharp stones underneath my back stopped mattering. The incredible pain in my head went cottony-soft and distant. The air went out of me and out of me and out of me, and then there wasn’t any more strength to bring it in again.

Ah, I thought, because there wasn’t any energy to lie to myself, either.

And then the incredible thing, whatever it was, was gone. And it was only you, and the corpses of all of your best friends.

I couldn’t see you anymore, but I knew you stood up, and dusted yourself off, and looked around. I knew you caught your breath when you saw me lying there. You stumbled, two steps, three, and then something steadied your posture.

You were changing already.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” you said. “It was going to be different.”

You reached down and stroked my face, but I wasn’t in there to feel it anymore.

“I can fix it.” You said. “I can fix—anything, now. Almost anything. Almost. Not this.” Your voice was changing. Something was leaking out of it, like blood into the dirt, and being replaced with a brightness, a sharpness. A coldness.

“You were supposed to be able to stop me, if I went wrong.” You said. And in a whisper, cut off at the end: “Stop me.”

And then you weren’t in there anymore, either. But you still stood, and you rolled your shoulders, and you turned your back on all of us.

“Oh, well!”

And you walked back down the mountain alone.

My body lay in the dirt until dark. But it wasn’t entirely empty. Stop me, you’d said; maybe your breath filled my lungs. Or maybe it was something left-over of the incredible thing—every god always has an alternate face, right?

Or maybe it’s just me, stubborn as ever. I still feel like me. Not that I’m sure I’d know the difference.

Whatever it was, when the sun went down, I stood up again.

I wasn’t, I am not, alive. Not really.

But I’m something.

You’d seemed not to care, when you—or whatever it was inside of you now—left us behind. You seemed cheerful and anticipative. I wasn’t so lucky, or so unlucky. When I saw Tomas, face down in a drying pool of his own blood, when I saw Elspeth and Mona clutching each other even in death, I nearly lost myself again. No. No. This is wrong. This is WRONG.

And Tomas sighed, and his body sat up. And Elspeth and Mona sat up, and arranged themselves, waiting for command in the way that hands do, or eyelids.

I wake up in the tub and the water is cooling, and there are tears on my face—a waste, that, I’ll have to drink some water now to balance it out—and the radio is whining down to nothing. I don’t have to reach far to feel where Tomas is, and where Elspeth and Mona are (still together, always). I couldn’t leave them on the mountain for the coyotes and the bears. So I brought them down with me, and they’re here with me still. Sometimes, when I look at them, I imagine I can see them looking back out their faces. I know better, mostly—my troops aren’t “loyal,” they’re just breathing my breath, and there’s very nearly nothing left of who they used to be. But whatever little scraps of soul are in there, they deserved better than to be murdered and abandoned.

All of my soldiers fight with the sort of ferocity generally kept to fantasy novels. But my three once-was friends, they’re faster, they’re sharper. Is that because I knew them when they were still people? Or is it because part of them still is capable of caring, and they know we’re coming for you? I can’t tell. This wasn’t ever supposed to happen to me, I wasn’t prepared for it.

(If you’d told me what you were going to do, could I have prepared?)

My attendant hands me a towel for my hair, and then one for my body, and I step from the tub. I pull on some clothes looted from a storefront in the dead city we passed through last week.

You’ve been “fixing things” all over the place, and it’s true, social problems sure are different than they were. Pollution’s not so big a thing, nowadays.

I can’t help but think we could have gone about all this a different way, though.

So when I get there, in about another two days, we’re going to have a talk about it.

“Stop me,” you said, with the very last breath that was you.

And you know me, I never could do any different than what you wanted.

As a lich who controls a ever-growing undead army, you have no interest in taking over the world. You’re only intrested in fulfuiling your friend’ last request, which was to make sure that the thing they were turning into would never harm another person.

[grandsonoflightike]

Grey Three Houses/Hopes P17: Grey Enshrouded Memories

Background song Announcement: Starcraft II: Nova Theme By 0rangaStang

*At The Shadow Imperial Base Camp…*

Grey Lysithea: Well then, Edelgard? What is this new information regarding those who slither in the dark? And can I assume it is somehow related to her inexplicable presence at this meeting?

Grey Hapi: Hey, Grey Lys. How's it going?

Shadow Edelgard: Indeed, Grey Lysithea. For you see, she is the same as us. Yet another poor soul whose fate has been bent to their nefarious will. Grey Lysithea: It can't be... Then the rumors about Hapi are true? Her powers came from their experiments?

Grey Hapi: Yep. What, you didn't believe it?

Grey Lysithea: I did not, in fact. Rather, I assumed it was a lie you told to keep others away, or else slander spread by a rival.

Grey Hapi: A bit overboard for slander, don't you think? But still, I'm actually glad you didn't believe it.

Grey Lysithea: Hmm. So the monsters that appeared at the base the other day...

Grey Hapi: Yeah, that was me sighing about one thing or another--but the Bert covered for me.

Grey Lysithea: I had my suspicions, but it's good to hear the truth.

Shadow Edelgard: I presume we're ready to move on to the main topic? That is, if you're following all of this.

Shadow Shez: Oh, I know all about Hapi's situation.

Shadow Edelgard: Good. That makes things easier. Now then. Grey Hapi's captor was a woman named Light Cornelia, the Light Kingdom's former court mage. Apparently, she is also one of those who shadow slither in the dark. When the Light Kingdom learned she was planning an insurrection, they rallied an army and defeated her.

Grey Lysithea: But is she truly dead? A cunning woman like her might've secured a body-double and escaped.

Shadow Edelgard: We've no way to confirm for ourselves, and can only trust the Kingdom was thorough in this regard.

Grey Hapi: Anyway, we think we found one of her old hideouts. Seems like it might be worth checking out.

Shadow Edelgard: Based on what we've been able to extrapolate from Grey Hapi's testimony, this base is somewhere in the western portion of the Kingdom. With the war's front having moved further north, we're currently well-positioned to investigate.

Grey Lysithea: Oh, so that's why it took you so long to look into this. You had to wait for the war's tide to shift and grant you an opportunity.

Shadow Shez: And what, I'm just extra muscle in case any baddies show up? Or does this have something to do with my power?

Shadow Edelgard: For now, you are merely serving as additional steel. However, it's possible we might find a connection between Grey Hapi's power and your own. And though it might end up being nothing, I'd very much appreciate it if you came along.

Shadow Shez: Sure thing. I mean, it's my job to protect you anyway. Well, my and Shadow Hubert's job.

Grey Hapi: Um, my past? All the things that happened to me? I'm sure we talked about this.

Shadow Edelgard: Playing dumb, are we? Well, have it your way.

Shadow Shez: Say, where is Shadow Hubert, anyway? He usually jumps at the chance to be involved in this kinda thing.

Shadow Edelgard: Hubert has a good deal on his plate already. Now let's be off. With any luck, this won't take long. I pray we might finally dispel the darkness that haunts us all...

*At the start of battle*

Shadow Edelgard: This is the location we deduced from Grey Hapi's statements. Hopefully we find something.

Grey Lysithea: I think our suspicions were correct--all signs point to their having been here.

Shadow Dark Mage: Intruders? Away with you!

*The Shadow Dark Mage sends reinforcements to intercept the heroes.*

Gret Hapi: Yeah, I've been here before. No doubt.

*After defeating the advance troops*

Shadow Shez: Better keep our guard up. No telling when somebody's gonna jump out at us.

Grey Hapi: Where was...anything? I can't remember.

*When Shadow Shez enters one of the inner strongholds*

Shadow Edelgard: They're trapped! We must help them, quickly!

*After seizing the Plaza*

Grey Lysithea: Nothing of note here.

*After seizing Kitchen*

Grey Hapi: Hey, I remember this room! I wonder if there's anything here now? They did a lot of painful stuff to me here. Trying to amplify my Crest, change it--that sort of thing.

Shadow Shez: You're surprisingly calm about all of this.

*After seizing the Guardhouse*

Grey Lysithea: Light Cornelia's research seems to have had different aims than the experiments I was subjected to.

Shadow Edelgard: Which means it likely differed from my own experiences as well. For the sake of your future, Grey Lysithea, I hope we find some connection--but I fear it does not look promising.

Grey Lysithea: There are still rooms we haven't searched yet. Let's investigate those.

*After seizing the Chapel*

Grey Hapi: Seems like nothing. Let's press on.

*After seizing the Command Post*

Shadow Edelgard: Is this a weapon? It looks like their technology, at least.

Shadow Shez: Aside from the weird shape, it doesn't seem anything like my sword.

Grey Lysithea: We've given this area a thorough look. Is there anything else?

*A secret passage from the Kitchen to the Dungeon opens.*

Grey Hapi: Hey, was I the only one who heard that? It came from over there.

*When Shadow Shez enters the Dungeon*

Grey Hapi: Is this a dungeon? I've never been in here.

Shadow Edelgard: This air feels just like the area beneath the palace. How many have met their ends here?

Grey Lysithea: Be it Shadow Empire, Light Alliance, or Light Kingdom, their evil has left its mark everywhere.

Shadow Shez: ...

Shadow Odesse: Hm? What triggered the door mechanism? Could my brethren have fallen?

*When Shadow Odesse's HP reach <= 50%*

Shadow Odesse: I sense a darkness in you--we are connected! Why do you attack me?!

Grey Lysithea: What connection?! All your kind have done is cause me pain!

*When Shadow Odesse is defeated*

Shadow Odesse: I don't know why you came here, but I won't soon forget this...

Shadow Edelgard: How could he not know? Let's collect what we've found and leave this place. Shadow Hubert should be able to tell us more.

*Outside the Light Castle*

Grey Hapi: I thought for sure we'd find better info in this place— and also that I'd be way more freaked out. Although it seems like it was a different experience for you and Lys, eh, Eddy?

Shadow Edelgard: I can't claim to be as disaffected as you, but...I'm fine.

Grey Lysithea: No need to put on a brave face, Shadow Edelgard. I feel terrible, and I'm certain you do as well. It's just that nothing ever bothers Grey Hapi.

Shadow Edelgard: In that case, I feel as if I've just gone digging through an entire crate of old nightmares. And yes, this base seems mostly abandoned now. But who knows how many found themselves chained to operating tables while Light Cornelia was still alive?

Shadow Shez: That kinda thing happened to all of you, right? Well, I'm glad you made it out the other side—and that we got to fight together like this.

Grey Hapi: We were lucky, that was all.

Shadow Edelgard: Sometimes I wonder if we were the lucky ones.

Grey Hapi: Anyway, why don't we get out of here before more jerks decide to crash the party?

Shadow Shez: Good idea. Nothing like a nice bed and a warm meal to lift your spirits after something like this.

Grey Lysithea: So long as that meal contains something sweet.

Shadow Shez: Sweet? Uh, sure, all right. Why not?

Grey Lysithea: Teatime it is, then, for all four of us. Let's hurry back! I mean, if that's all right with the two of you?

Edelgard: Of course.

Grey Hapi: I'm actually growing fond of our weird little band. Still, you sure you're OK with me crashing your tea party with Shadow Eddy? Seems like you guys do that a lot.

Grey Lysithea: Actually, I believe Shadow Monica is the one who has tea with Shadow Edelgard most frequently.

Shadow Shez: No, it's definitely you, Grey Lysithea. And then Shadow Ferdinand.

Grey Hapi: Don't forget about yourself! I've seen the two of you hoisting cups on more than one occasion.

Shadow Edelgard: I had no idea everyone was so interested in my habits. You make it sound like all I do is drink tea.

Grey Hapi: Oh no. If anything, you don't drink enough. You're always working yourself too hard.

Shadow Shez: But you could stand to work more, Hapi. And while we're on the subject of change, let's talk about Lysithea and her sweets addiction.

Grey Lysithea: I beg your pardon? Why, I barely have any interest in sweet things at all!

Grey Hapi: And it's hardly fair to compare my work ethic with... you know. An emperor.

Shadow Shez: Uh, right. Sorry. Forget I said anything.

Grey Hapi: I'll forgive you so long as you'll help with my chores.

Grey Lysithea: And you can make it up to me by handing over your daily ration of dessert going forward.

Shadow Edelgard: Oh dear. You are all so very...odd. But I'm still delighted to count you all as allies.

Shadow Shez: Well at least someone's enjoying herself.

[lovenora-1]

overcoming the odds # Childhoodcancer #Cancer can't define me!.# Lovenora #Lovenoras #share awareness of childhood cancer, # let's spread the word of hope, # let's spread Love# fight cancer.

In a world abundant with tales of fortitude and tenacity, one particular story shines as a testament to the indomitable essence of the human spirit. It is the narrative of a child waging war against cancer, firmly believing that "cancer can't define me." Within this blog post, we delve into the awe-inspiring journey of a young warrior who adamantly refused to allow this merciless ailment to shape Her identity. An Altering Diagnosis tale commences with a diagnosis capable of shattering any family's reality. A child brimming with hopes and dreams suddenly confronts an insurmountable adversary named cancer. In that moment, disbelief, mourning, and fear descended upon them; however, it was also the catalyst for their battle's initiation.

While cancer invaded their physical form, it remained powerless against their indomitable spirit. Armed with bravery and unwavering determination amidst numerous hospital visits and painful treatments, she is faced with tribulation head-on.

In the face of adversity, our young hero received unwavering support from family, friends, and healthcare providers. She is embraced with love, motivation, and optimism. This collective effort demonstrates that even during the most challenging moments, unity has the power to illuminate our path forward .

The Power Within Throughout this grueling battle against an insidious disease, This young warrior discovers profound solace in embracing her own power and agency—the ability to define who they truly are. battling cancer does not deter her from dreaming big. She continues to pursue her passions, whether it is painting, playing music, or excelling in school. Cancer may have disrupted her life, but it can not rob her of her dreams.

With each passing day comes a newfound determination to rise above the constraints imposed by cancer's presence in her life.

In conclusion, the story is about a young 9years old girl fighting the battle Cancer refusing to let it Define her. despite facing unimaginable adversities posed by cancer, refused to allow it shape or limit her. This kid unwavering resolve serves as inspiration for us all, to never let any obstacle define our lives or hinder our true potential. Indeed,cancer may have touched this hero's existence,but it is unable to extinguish the light emanating from within—a beacon of hope,and proof that we possess immeasurable strength when we refuse to be defined by circumstances beyond our control.

Let's support her , encourage.share, send hugs and more motivational words through comments. Visit https://withlovenora.com/ https://www.facebook.com/miraclelgift?mibextid=ZbWKwL https://www.redbubble.com/people/Lovenoras/shop?utm_source=rb-native-app&utm_campaign=share-artist&utm_medium=android

[captainkurosolaire]

Prompt #1 ~ Aftermath

Previous - ♫Something Better♫ - Mentions: (@lordshiroelune)

Bitter cold took presence as often they attend to go from a harrowing Summer, or within this situation; a treacherous battle. Rarely often the roguish in clad-black took dawn in a mournful suit. A makeshift headstone laid at his sole's wake. He was attending a funeral burial, to his worst prominent enemy. An opponent in which they catapulted a historical rivalry it felt they were Destined Forever to contest... However, you can never truly engage a character of a person often with the whole life they live, but often it's what they do at their final notes, that's what really spells out was colorfully represented. An ashamed head was tilted, this was unholy sight. His rival, slaughtered and massacred his first crew, dissected and single-handedly malfunctioned his second with their wit alone. The Noble of once, shattered dreams, crushed his livelihood. At worst, brought instilled doubt, to someone who was so once staggering confident in his abilities, as if untouchable in brash young. Those losses racked up, the death toll's grip of reality, was clenched around the Seeker like a noose. He loosened his buttoned shirt to expose his collar to expose a gnarly rapier scar and wound. Ashamed so hid it and confiscated it was better to ignore things, such effortlessness, easy. The token failure's could unrelentingly haunt by sight alone. Although caressing it purposefully trying to recall that wound's terrible story. Forth came his nerves finally conveying a solo-speech to his departed advisor. "Shiro... Shiro... Why'd ye have t' die?" He quaked and trembled, his worst hatred and self-loathing came from his compassion always ridiculed for, it was a distinct thing he rejected, because he was foretold it would be his demise, or it couldn't measure up to giant's he began mustering against. "I am surrounded in a realm, where everyone is better put together, or they just haven't gotten there yet, they're all beyond me... You were the only one, I felt, I could be equal or had. We were both atrocious, stupid, naive men, arrogant, prideful was our downfall. We did heinous thing's simplistically, to survive, or in fret, it was required. We came from diversity. Yet somehow, we were alike." It made no-sense to his intuit, he was spilling from guts. Dropping on his knees and quivering a scabbard rapier, infamously used to pierce through him. It cultivated this entire Tale. Where would he stand, if Shiro wasn't there as his obstacle, challenge? He surmised, buried underneath instead. You see failures, losses are necessities in ensuring that feeling doesn't reoccur, one with tenacity and a rebel-soul, thrives under this conditional warfare, although, at-first, vices were the only thing he tried to drown guilt, overtime... He began stepping more bravely. Molding from cruelty becoming larger than ever prelude to his rags.

"But... You defeated me royally for the last time. I cannot compete with you. Ye won. I thought you were the most vile, yer shade of dishonor, the fact you perceived yourself so above, but yet you were losing mental-games, dealing with even worse Father's, under all that ice, stooping to all time lows, just... to protect. You had something I never imagined a Noble to have, integrity. Th' evil man, who I wanted to mindlessly kill on vengeance soil, but was held back by a common star we shared, I spared. A man who I fought in a War of Depths with, who safeguarded my Crew to ensure the victory was met, in which, I thought, was doing only for their selfish-hide... You always did it for others, pushing away, preventing many to get through, you were authentic. I get it, that was your weakness, yer secret card, if showed that vulnerability you would've perished a lot sooner. I... am glad, I was wrong." Sighing allowing himself to spill it all out, gives clarity. The pain he felt was for the unexpected. This felt like watching a part of himself die. It hurt maybe even above putting rest of his own Founding Captain. Prying out a matched lighter and reaching in his tuxedo's folds he gathered out a dusty tome containing the memoirs of horrific secrets, the Noble was cautious to reveal, he hadn't even pried to read which often a pirate's behave would, but there wasn't any need after the battle they endured and shared, all was exposed. He gave aflame to the booklet and allowed it to be destroyed, within a final request before the departed fell. "I will b' who fosters yer cares now. Yer Estate will be under me with my remaining plunders. I hate this sappy-shite, I don't want ta' think ye perished on me but I saw what happened. Th' stages of denial never really fade. Mayhaps my estranged daughter is having an impact on me, she's shown me unmatched hope, even gives it to me as much I didn't want that either. As if adamantly showing I can do...become, better. Can't believe a bastard like me, could, but I feel it... emerging like a Sun trying t' rise within." Standing up and sweeping himself up and trying to recompose and whack his cheek to sting out the watery-urge his eye was trying to admit. "...I'll see you soon. My devil friend. Death only happens when we're forgotten, I assure ye, no one will not hear of this story ov' you, my matey bard is traveling sharing words that convey. Ye aspired, saved my entire current Crew, where you were th' worst, now you're seen as the hero basked in dark-light who hoisted them, to overcome the pasts. Especially me. I have a lot t' prove even more now. T' myself, I cannot let ye go in vain either, I'll confront my fears." He trailed strapping the rapier to him a treasure beyond all the relic's acquired of before, the grave held emptied no body to prove of demise, but symbolism was valued, it meant everything to embrace a moment's of life. It's how spirit's found rest with a double-edge slay. Walking with a new chapter to uncharted perils. Resolve, reawakened.

[msmarvelwrites]

The Winter Ghost - Part 5

Info: A Devastating car crash causes you to lose your memory and start over. The only thing left in the wreckage was the horrific nightmares which plagued your mind. If you knew what today would entail you would have just stayed in bed. But you didn't and because of that, everything you knew was about to change.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/n

Warning: language, PTSD, anxiety, violence, fluff.

W/c: 3.5K ish

A/n : oooh getting serious. Im having so much fun writing this you guys! Shout out to @cutie1365​ for all her support! Go read her fic A Kid From Queens, but dont say I didnt warn you. Its addicting! 

Everything happened really fast after that day in the common room with Wanda. Shuri worked tirelessly in the lab trying to develop a softer approach to bringing back your memories. She believed if she could restore them fully, we would have the last piece of the puzzle.

Becoming the perfect war machine seemed like the most obvious use for the serum, but Steve reminded you Hydra always had something up their sleeve.

You really enjoyed living in Wakanda. Most days were spent in the gym training. Trying to harness the team's abilities was not so enjoyable. You worked with Wanda most. It helped that you were only 4 years older than her. She was younger than most of the team and had a dark past that seemed to mirror yours.

Most of your nights consisted of you, Wanda and Nat settling into the couch and cheesy eighties movies on the plasma TV. Bucky would often come out of his room and sit with you.

You really enjoyed Bucky's energy. Something about him just drew you to him. Maybe it was his smile, or the way he smelled like mint and nicotine, or that he read the newspaper and drank black coffee in the mornings. You weren't sure. One thing was for certain, the more time you spent together, the harder it became to leave him. Bucky would tell you about his past and how he used to have to bail little 'Stevie' out of bar fights and ally brawls every other day. He made you laugh like no one really did. When he told you about his time with Hydra and how they would control his mind you would rake your fingers through his hair and whisper to him he wasn't alone anymore.

As the days melted into weeks, the horrific nightmares began to grow legs. It was one of the many side effects from Shuri’s digging. Some days it felt like Hydra knew you would try to remember and this was their fail-safe. Every time you began to drift off you'd see Tommys pale face, blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. You swear, right before he stumbled off the edge of the bridge you saw him say something. You could never remember when you woke, nor could you recall any other detail other than Tommy. It felt wrong. You felt wrong. Like he wasn't yours to grieve.

One particular bad night, you remember waking up screaming. Your whole body felt like it was on fire as your tears seared down your cheeks. The only thing that grounded you after that was the small knock that echoed from the other side of your door.

“Hey, doll. Let me in?” His voice was soft and smooth and the only thing that seemed to bring you back to the dimly lit bedroom. You stared at the ceiling for a solid minute before slowly rising and crossing the room. Gently, you opened the door just a crack and looked up. There stood a sleepy-eyed Bucky. He sported a baggy pair of grey sweats and an old beat up tank, his arms on full display. In normal circumstances, you believed that that was enough to knock you out of any state. You wondered if Bucky knew the effect he had on people. Or worse, if he knew the effect he had on you.

“Can't sleep, keep me company?” He spoke, huskily. You could tell he had just woken up. Sleep still clouded his eyes, and the yawn he tried to stifle gave him away. You appreciate what he was trying to do, so instead of calling the man out, you opened the door, and welcomed the Super Soldier in.

You talked for hours that night. He didn't ask about your nightmare, which you appreciated. You had recited the images to Shuri about thirty times in the past week. It was the only memory that seemed to come back. It replayed over and over on a continuous loop through your mind. This moment with Bucky was a welcomed break.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” You finally spoke. Bucky and you had found your way onto your bed at some point. His right arm draped around your shoulder, as you leaned on his chest. He cracked his neck to look down at you.

“Of course.” He offered, shifting onto his side so he could really look at you.

“Does it ever stop? I’m so exhausted, all I want to do is sleep but I- I'm so scared. I don’t want to see it again… What if it never-” Your voice broke off, shutting your eyes tight to stop a tear from escaping.

“Hey, hey. You're not alone anymore. Remember? I went through it and came out the other side. And look how well adjusted I am.” Bucky smirked, sarcasm laced his last remark. You couldn't help but smile at that. You didn't know if anyone but you and Steve really knew how funny he was. Maybe he liked it that way. Maybe he was only that way with you? You knew it had been awhile since Bucky had really been this way around others. It warmed your heart how quickly the two of you got along.

“Listen to me, doll.” He started, seriously, lowering his stare to meet yours.

“I’ll be here. Whenever you need me. I know what it's like, to feel out of control. To feel like a prisoner in your own body. To answer your question, yeah I think it gets better. I mean,” He paused then, looking you up and down in a way that made you blush. He started again, words laced with that old Brooklyn charm the ladies used to love. Granted, that worked back in 1940 - something and he had been out of the game for quite a while.

“I’m in bed with a smart, complicated, frankly beautiful dame. I’d say it gets better, wouldn't you?” He gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. His touch sent shivers down your spine. Bucky's stormy eyes bore into yours making your breath hitch in your throat. There was a moment, so brief that when you recanted the memory you weren't sure it really happened. But you thought maybe for just a second he wanted to-  

“Up and at it, Y/n! Training starts at 0700!” Caps voice droned through your bedroom door suddenly, knocking you out of your thoughts and back to the bed you resided on. Your hand reached out for Bucky, who since that night spent most beside you. He would stay with you until you fell asleep and more often than not, when you woke, he’d be beside you, fast asleep. His side of the bed was cold, however. He had been up for a while.

You looked at your phone on the nightstand. 6:15 am it read. You groaned, rubbing your hands over your face and slinking out of bed. Pain screamed from your muscles as you opened the bathroom door. Carefully, you started the shower, steam quickly filled the room and calmed your aching bones. You stepped in and autobly signed.

Fifteen minutes later you met the rest of the team in the kitchen. You couldn't help but notice Bucky wasn't in attendance. Everyone looked like they had been awake for hours while your wet hair was pulled up in a messy knot on top of your head. Nat was pouring herself a cup of coffee when she noticed you come in. She smirked, instantly grabbing another mug and gesturing to the pot in her hands. You nodded quickly. ‘Coffee fixed most everything’. That's what Your Dad used to tell you before he left for work and you lived by that.

“Look who's finally up…” Cap announced. You had no idea how he was so chipper in the mornings. Even the sound of his booming voice made you cringe. The man must have coffee running through his veins. Maybe that should be Hydra’s next serum idea…

“I have risen. Just for you, Rogers.” You muttered sarcastically, taking the mug of coffee from Nat. You smiled and mouthed thank you, taking a big swig. Ugh, you grimaced, swallowing the brown substance much to your dismay. You didn't know what this brown water was but it definitely wasn't coffee.

Wanda laughed at your disgusted face, "It's decaf, Y/n '' she rolled her eyes, "Cap thinks decaf is better for the team. That coffee will mess with our 'performance' or whatever." She shrugged. What's even the point? You thought.

“Excuse me young lady.” Cap began, scolding Wanda like she was his teenager. Wanda smirked, turning towards his voice.

“Young lady?” Nat mocked her friend, nudging him out of the way as she reached for the piece of toast she had put in the toaster. She took a bite and over chews laughed, “You're really aging yourself, Cap.” She finished, hoisting herself up onto the kitchen island beside you.

You really liked Natasha. You thought she must have been the most beautiful person you'd ever met. Her red hair always curled around her soft features perfectly. You honestly didn't know how a human could look that perfect and be so deadly. Over the past few weeks, Nat had taught you a lot. You mostly trained with Captain Rogers and Wanda, but occasionally Nat would step in. She was small in stature, but she helped you learn how to use that to your advantage.

“What’cha say we go get some real coffee, babe?” Nat nudged you with a small smile. You looked up at her with a wide eye gaze. She truly was a hero.

“God, yes please.” You beamed as she jumped off the island.

“If you're skipping out on training then count me in! I” Wanda chimed.  Rogers looked frustrated as the three of you started towards the door.

“Nat, you heard what Shuri said. Y/n cannot leave the premises until we know what she's fully capable of. She’s dangerous.” Cap stated firmly, but unmoved from the kitchen. You looked at the floor uncomfortably. He was right. You were a ticking time bomb. You all knew it. Shuri explained with the presence of the nightmares it was only a matter of time before something snapped. And no one really knew how that would look when it happened. For the most part, everyone treated you like a normal person. An honorary member of the team. But Rogers often reminded you that you were anything but. Just an experiment and a means to an end.

"Comeon' y/n. I know a place we can get some real coffee."  Nat spoke, louder than Cap. Venom seeped from her words as she glared at the Captain. She shook her head disapprovingly. Wanda took your hand, pulling you gently out of the kitchen. When you touched you felt your skin sizzle, absorbing the power that surged through her body. You made a conscious effort to steady your breathing and push her power to the back of your mind. As you left you heard Natasha’s booming voice coming from behind you but decided to ignore it, as the two of you headed for the garage.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Steve?” Nat snapped at him. Steve opened his mouth and closed it trying to find the right words. “She’s a person, you ass! You can't keep treating her like some unhinged science experiment. She’s just a person. Just like me. Just like Bucky.”

“She’s nothing like Bucky!” He thundered. Nat took a step back, snaking her head disapprovingly. “I can’t keep thinking, what if we had it wrong. I mean, she can’t remember anything. What if her memories come back and she's not really on our side. I don't think we thought this through, Nat.” He huffed, running his hands over his face in frustration.

“I trust her, Steve. Bucky trusts her.” She started, taking a few steps closer to him. He shook his head in annoyance and scoffed.

“Bucky thinks the girl’s a doll. He’s totally smitten, that doesn't count. I think the guy would trust anything she said at this point-”

“Do you trust me?” Nat snapped, a brow arched, hands on her hips. Stever huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You know I do, but-” He began.

“Then it's settled. You gotta’ let the girl out. She's been locked up here for weeks. I promise, I’ll keep her safe. Besides, I’m getting pretty tired of her stealing my clothes. Coffee, and shopping and then we’ll be back, yeah?” Nat offered, voice dripping with sweetness. She knew she had won this battle. She always did.

“Two hours, Romanoff. That's all you get.” Steve grumbled. Nat smirked, rolling her eyes and spinning on her heel to meet you and Wanda in the garage.

“See ya later, Grandpa. Don't wait up.” She offered over her shoulder. Steve only shook his head and chuckled, hoping desperately he hadn't made a huge mistake.

Nat strutted victoriously out of the kitchen, and almost ran right into Bucky's large frame. She stumbled back, regaining her balance quickly. Bucky raised one brow curiously.

“Where ya’ going in such a hurry?” He asked, watching her carefully.

“I’m taking your girl out for a much needed shopping trip. Anything particular you'd like to see her in?” She quipped, sarcastically, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Bucky choked on a cough, clearing his throat and trying to turn it into a laugh. He failed, of course.

“I- ah, I don't know what- uh, what?” He finally got out. Nat smirkled, and patted him on his stiff chest. It was literally too easy. The man was such a ball of stress. Nat thought it was honestly cute. She’s never seen Bucky like this before. Nervous and blushing. She thought you were really good for him. Maybe you’ll finally take that stick out of his ass. She thought with a smirk.

“Have a nice day, Sergeant.” She cooed, pushing past his rigid body leaving Bucky in shock.

“You ready, babies?” Nat grinned, putting the key in the Jeep’s ignition. You sat in the back seat while Wanda sat in the passenger, both nodding vigorously.

“For the love of coffee!” You shouted, pointing forward. Both women laughed and with that you took off.

……………………...

You practically skipped through the Wakanda market. Beautiful earthy colours melted into the scenery practically taking your breath away. Wanda and Nat had stopped at a small coffee shop, but you wandered around, looking at the beautiful handmade clothing. The smoky smell of something cooking from a nearby street grill filled your senses. It was complex, sweet and spicy and sour all at once. It made your mouth water. Foreign and delicious. You followed the smell to a small hutch where people gathered around, eating and laughing.

“Beautiful isn't it? How food brings us all together.” A man spoke beside you. You recognized him as T’Challa, Shuri’s older brother and also the man who is letting you and your new friends stay in Wakanda. You had only really met him in passing, but never really spoke. Bucky always describes him as a kind, gracious friend. You smiled up at him.

“It is… Really beautiful.” You repeated.

“How are you liking Wakanda, Y/n?” He asked. His voice was deep and rich. Almost melodic. Just by speaking he had commanded the attention of the people around you. The new eyes on the two of you made you feel uneasy and small, but you took a deep breath and relaxed yourself.

“It's so gorgeous here. Thank you for having me, T’Challa.” You spoke his name and it made him smile. You froze unsure if that was the right thinking to call him. He was the King, sort of, but Bucky had always referred to him by his given name.

“Breath, my friend. You have nothing to fear here. You are with good people. Your friend Bucky speaks very highly of you. And any friend of the Sergeants is a friend of mine.” He voiced, placing a warm hand on your shoulder as you relaxed. From behind him you could see Nat and Wanda walking towards you. Wanda waved chaotically making you smile.

An old beat-up SUV made a loud popping noise as it pulled up somewhere behind you. The noise made you shudder. The familiar sound of gunshots rang through your ears as you grabbed your head, trying to make the noise stop. You looked to T’Challa who seemed only concerned, reaching out a hand to steady you.

“Is everything okay, Y/n?” He spoke, trying to gage what was wrong by your actions. The loud deady blows echoed through your head, unrelenting as a scream erupted through the crowd. You weren't sure if you had made the noise of if it was someone else. Everything seemed to fade away and your vision became blurry.

“Y/n, Y/n! Can you hear me?!” You heard a woman yell over the crowd. You tried to focus on her voice, but it was too late. Everything suddenly went black and you felt your body go numb.

You woke up in the dark cement room that plagued your nightmares. A man's eerie voice echoed off the walls.

“Еще раз!” Again! He shouted. Usually when you relieved these memories you didn't know what the man was saying.  But for some reason, this time your brain was translating for you. You didn’t question it as you looked around the room. You felt your body scream as an excruciating electric shock ripped through you. Tears burned down your face as you begged incoherently for it to stop. As fast as it came on, the shock stopped, and you could breathe again.

“Ты сама во всем виновата, дитя мое.” You brought this on yourself, my child. The man cooed, wiping a bead of sweat that ran down your forehead. You winced at his touch, the feeling of him on you making you nauseous.

“Если бы ты только сделал то, о чем тебя просили. Если бы вы только слушали. Может быть, все было бы по-другому, хотя я сомневаюсь в этом.” If only you had done what you were asked. If only you have listened. Maybe things would be different, though, I doubt it. He spat, chuckling as he motioned for the other outside of view to start again.

“Please, don’t do this, Zemo. Обещаю. Возьми мою память. Заставь меня забыть, только не делай этого.” I promise. Take my memory. Make me forget, just don't do this. You begged. You tried to move your arms but they were secured down. The man only laughed at your feeble attempt, building a rage inside of you.

“Oh, don't you worry, мой ребенок. All in due time. When I’m done with you, you won't remember your own name.” He grinned a crooked smile as the machine you laid in whirled on again, sending a volt of electricity through your body. You clenched your teeth and stifled another scream.

Your eyes burst open, scolded by the sun and the tears that now streamed down your face. Gasping for air you tried to sit up, but your body shrieked with pain. On your left Nat sat beside you, Wanda was on your right holding a phone to her ear yelling something you couldn't quite make out.  Your breath slowly began to return and the sunspots in your vision cleared. You looked around, the market was now almost empty but the small street grill was now billowing with smoke and flame. Nat helped you up, body still aching. You looked around, horrified by the mess that was once the lively market.

“Are you okay, Y/n” Nat started, her hands on either side of your arms. You blinked at her, terrified.

“What happened?” You asked, horrified to actually know the answer. She gave you a nervous look and tucked a loose hair behind her ear.

“It wasn't your fault, Y/n. No one was hurt, everyone got out. It’s going to be okay.”

“It most certainly is not going to be okay!” Captain Rogers' voice boomed from behind the three of you. Wanda spun around startled, while you just hung your head low. Whatever lashing he was going to give you, you deserved. It couldn't be any worse than what Zemo had done…  You paused, eyes a gape.

“Oh my God.” You gasped, alerting the others. Steve looked at her angrily, impatient for your next words.

“I remember something… I think- I think I remember who did this to me.” You choked out, eyes glassy as you remembered for the first time the man who made you a monster.

................................

A/N: Thank you for reading! Hope all have a great weekend! As always, feel free to leave me feedback! My inbox is always open!

@projectcampbell​