#didn’t he like kill one of those American brothers back in part 1 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blackswaneuroparedux · 3 years ago

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ltdan2288 asked: As a fellow veteran of the Afghan Campaign, might I ask if you have any thoughts about the imminent end of Allied air support & combat-advisory operations over there? The fall of large swaths of the country to the Taliban is already underway, which can only be seen as an unspeakable tragedy for the people there. From a strategic perspective, there’s no reason to believe that we won’t have to return in some capacity of AQ or ISIS reestablish themselves under Taliban sponsorship. At the same time, it’s not clear to me that our presence did anything beyond kick the can down the road and delay this inevitable outcome. As someone with such a deep knowledge of military history, I’m curious if you have a different perspective.

I have been avoiding answering this post for a while now because Afghanistan dredges up so many conflicting emotions inside me. I wrestle with so many memories of my time there with my regiment to fight in a war that we all didn’t really understand what we were fighting for.

Deep breath.

Almost two decades of conflict in Afghanistan has cost British taxpayers £22.2billion, or $31.3 billion according to UK government figures. As British troops prepare to leave Afghanistan, the 20-year deployment bill could be even higher. As of May 2021, the total cost of Operation Herrick (codename for the deployment of British soldiers to Helmand province) is £22.2billion. There were 457 fatalities on, or subsequently due to, Op Herrick. Of which 403 were due to hostile action. During the operation between January 1, 2006 and November 30, 2014, there were 10,382 British service personnel casualties. Of these 5,705 were injuries and the remainder being illness or disease. The UK’s remaining 750 troops in Afghanistan, involved in training local forces, started exiting the war-devastated country in May. Most of them will return home by the end of July.

They, like every one of us who went to fight in Afghanistan, will ask the same questions, ‘Why did we go there?’ ‘What was the real purpose of the mission?’ ‘Was it worth it?’

Both my older brothers fought there with special distinction and I later fought there too. I have very mixed emotions when I think about my time in Afghanistan. For all its faults and tortured history, I love that country and love its many ethnic people. I even started to learn Pashtu as I already had a spoken command of Urdu because I had been raised partly in both Pakistan and India and it’s where many Afghan refugees living in the UN camps for over a generation had learned Urdu too.

It’s not just that my family has history in Afghanistan going back to the days of the East India Company but I had a sincere respect for its culture and history as one of the central hot spots for great civilisational achievements, but also as a stubborn and unruly country who proudly defied the Great Powers to bend the knee and turned it into a ‘graveyard of empires’. Most of all I think of the friendships I made there and how my perspective on life changed as a consequence of knowing such resilience and fortitude in the face of catastrophe and death.

I’m sure like everyone else I wasn’t too surprised by President Biden’s announcement that he was announcing the imminent withdrawal of all American troops in Afghanistan. He wanted to pivot to something else when asked about it. “I want to talk about happy things, man!” He said. Who could begrudge him given that America has been at war in Afghanistan for a better part of 20 years and has nothing to really show for it. Except of course the loss of its brave service men and women as well as the death of thousands of Afghan civilians. It spent more than $2 trillion to kill Osama bin Laden, the architect behind 9/11 attacks and failed to convincingly snuff out both murderous terror groups, Al Qaeda and ISIS.

When the Secretary General of Nato announced back in April 2021 all alliance troops were to be withdrawn from Afghanistan, it was made to look like a nice, clean, enunciation of a joint decision. The end date was set for 11 September, 2021 - 20 years after the terrorist attacks on New York and Washington - and it was in line with the oft-repeated alliance maxim: we went in together; we will come out together. Except that, on closer examination, it was all rather messier.

This was partly because the withdrawal from Afghanistan had actually been Trump’s policy, so here was Joe Biden, the anti-Trump, co-opting a policy from his predecessor (a policy Trump had been so keen on that he tried to accelerate the withdrawal after he lost the election). Biden then tried to detach it from Trump by slowing down the withdrawal date a little and expressing it in terms more comprehensible to the Washington establishment and to US allies.

Where Trump had essentially done a deal with the Taliban and set a withdrawal date of 1 May, Biden left the Taliban out of it and invoked the totemic date of 9/11. This does not mean, of course, that the withdrawal will not be completed a good deal sooner - once you announce a withdrawal, you might as well get on with it.

In fact, Biden had to make a decision one way or another, given the rapid approach of Trump’s 1 May withdrawal date. And, whether it came from Washington or Nato, it was pretty low key for an announcement that a 20-year military involvement that had cost 4,000 allied lives was ending. Indeed, many people beyond Washington and Afghanistan might not quite have registered the news, given the considerable noises from Nato’s simultaneous dire warnings about Russia massing troops on the Ukrainian border, the death of the Duke of Edinburgh in the UK, and the Covid pandemic everywhere.

And distractions were needed not just because Biden was implementing a Trump policy. It was also because he was ordering an unconditional withdrawal – which he justified, correctly, by saying that setting preconditions would mean that the troops could be there forever. It was a risk Biden knew all too well, given that Barack Obama had been persuaded by General David Petraeus – against his election pledges and his better judgement – that what Obama really wanted was not a withdrawal, but a ‘surge’ with conditions attached before a withdrawal could take place.

Distractions were also useful for London, where the timing was hardly ideal. Imagine you were in government in London, you had watched the dismal failure of the UK’s Herrick operations in Helmand Province between 2006 and 2014, you knew that your armed forces had suffered 456 deaths in 20 years, with many more severely injured, but you had hung on in there.

Your government had also just released a blueprint for foreign and security policy, setting future priorities even further from home, in the Indo-Pacific, and your Prime Minister was about to make a high-profile visit to India as part of his post-Brexit ‘Global Britain’ branding . In those circumstances, an announcement that the US had decided to leave Afghanistan, giving you no choice but to follow, was almost exactly what you did not need. Rather than showing the UK as a powerful, autonomous military actor and a valued ally, it showed the exact opposite.

It also reminded an unhappy British public about a costly conflict it had rather forgotten. And those who did more than bother to remember - like the families who lost loved ones on the battlefield - and who over the years have blamed successive governments for moving the goalposts and lacking an exit strategy (all true too).

All of which might explain why the UK’s Foreign and Defence Secretaries followed the US example by changing the subject to the iniquities of Russia and China, rather than issuing a joyous pronouncement to the effect of: hooray and thank goodness, our boys and girls are coming home.

The UK’s Chief of Defence Staff, General Sir Nick Carter gave a subdued, unenthusiastic response to Biden’s announcement. I cannot remember such open acknowledgement of UK-US military policy friction in recent decades - or such an abject admission by the UK of its defence dependence on the US. What Carter said was that the unconditional withdrawal was ‘not a decision we had hoped for, but we obviously respect it and it is clearly an acknowledgement of an evolving US strategic posture’. In other words, the UK had opposed Biden’s decision – or would have done, if asked (which is not clear). Also, that it was Washington’s ‘strategic posture’ that had ‘evolved’, not the UK’s. He suggested there was a real danger that progress made could be lost and that there could be a return to civil war, with the Taliban maybe returning to power - again, all true.

Given that the UK officially has only 750 troops in Afghanistan at present, and most of them are there in a training capacity, to dissent from the US position so openly would be considered decidedly rude in the Ministry of Defence. Perhaps to that end, General Carter played the dutiful soldier and had to - through gritted teeth - put a positive gloss on Afghanistan’s future, insisting that the objective in going into Afghanistan, ‘to prevent international terrorism emerging from the country’, had been achieved which was ‘great tribute to the work of British forces and their allies’.

He also said that Afghan forces were ‘much better trained than one might imagine’ and that the Taliban ‘is not the organisation it once was’, so that ‘a scenario could play out that is actually not quite as bad as perhaps some of the naysayers are predicting.’ Blah blah blah. He’s wrong, and I think he knows it but only in the sanctity of his gentlemen’s club might he truly admit it.

I know he’s wrong because the chatter amongst ex-veterans I know is that we’ve made a balls up of Afghanistan yet again - by ‘again�� I mean from the past 200 years of us Brits trying to bring order to chaos in Afghanistan and getting burned for our troubles.

Both my father and my older siblings tell me what their friends and ex-service peers (some very senior indeed) have been nattering over a drink at their gentlemen clubs where ex-veterans haunt the club bar. Many just shake their heads in sighed resignation before burying themselves in the Times crossword or drowning their sorrows with a beer or two at how lock in step we’ve become to the Americans at a time when the British army is re-branding itself as a more independent nimble hi-tech impact army (the creation of a new ranger regiment being but one example).

Still if President Biden wanted to tie a neat bow on U.S. involvement in Afghanistan - saying, as he had, that the logic for the war ended once al-Qaida was gutted and Osama bin Laden killed - then it reveals a stunning lack of introspection about the United States’ role in the conflict that will continue in Afghanistan long after the last American and British troops leave.

Less than three months after President Joe Biden declared that the last American troops would be out of Afghanistan by September 11th, the withdrawal is nearly complete. The departure from Bagram air base, an hour’s drive north of the capital, Kabul, in effect marked the end of America’s 20-year war. But that does not mean the end of the war in Afghanistan. If anything, it is only going to get worse.

It is true that the president had no good choice on Afghanistan, and that he inherited a bad deal from his predecessor. There are never good choices when it comes to Afghanistan: only bloody trade offs.

But in announcing an unconditional withdrawal, he made the situation worse by throwing out the minimal conditions U.S. Special Envoy Zalmay Khalilzad had negotiated under the Trump administration. U.S. envoy Zalmay Khalilzad has delivered to the Afghan government and Taliban a draft Afghanistan Peace Agreement - the central idea of which is replacing the elected Afghan government with a so-called transitional one that would include the Taliban and then negotiate among its members the future permanent system of government. Crucial blank spaces in the draft include the exact share of power for each of the warring sides and which side would control security institutions.

The refrain now from the Biden administration is that the United States is not abandoning Afghanistan, that it will aim to do right by Afghan women and girls, and that it will try to nudge the Taliban and Kabul toward a peace deal using a diplomatic tool kit.

But the narrative ignores much of the reality on the ground. It also ignores history.

In theory, the Taliban and the American-backed government had been negotiating a peace accord, whereby the insurgents lay down their arms and participate instead in a redesigned political system. In the best-case scenario, strong American support for the government, both financial and military (in the form of continuing air strikes on the Taliban), coupled with immense pressure on the insurgents’ friends, such as Pakistan, might succeed in producing some form of power-sharing agreement.

But even if that were to happen - and the chances are low - it would be a depressing spectacle. The Taliban would insist on moving backwards in the direction of the brutal theocracy they imposed during their previous stint in power, when they confined women to their homes, stopped girls from going to school and meted out harsh punishments for sins such as wearing the wrong clothes or listening to the wrong music.

More likely than any deal, however, is that the Taliban try to use their victories on the battlefield to topple the government by force. They have already overrun much of the countryside, with government units mostly restricted to cities and towns. Demoralised government troops are abandoning their posts. In the first week of July 2021, over 1,000 of them fled from the north-eastern province of Badakhshan to neighbouring Tajikistan. The Taliban have not yet managed to capture and hold any cities, and may lack the manpower to do so in lots of places at once. They may prefer to throttle the government slowly rather than attack it head on. But the momentum is clearly on their side.

America and its NATO allies have spent billions of dollars training and equipping Afghan security forces in the hope that they would one day be able to stand alone. Instead, they started buckling even before America left. Many districts are being taken not by force, but are simply handed over. Soldiers and policemen have surrendered in droves, leaving piles of American-purchased arms and ammunition and fleets of vehicles. Even as the last American troops were leaving Bagram over the weekend of July 3rd, more than 1,000 Afghan soldiers were busy fleeing across the border into neighbouring Tajikistan as they sought to escape a Taliban assault.

As the outlook for the army and for civilians looks increasingly desperate, so do the measures proposed by the government. Ashraf Ghani, the president, is trying to mobilise militias to shore up the flimsy army. He has turned for help to figures such as Atta Mohammad Noor, who rose to power as an anti-Soviet and anti-Taliban commander and is now a potentate and businessman in Balkh province. “No matter what, we will defend our cities and the dignity of our people,” said Mr Noor in his gilded reception hall in Mazar-i-Sharif, the key to holding the north (sounds like Game of Thrones). The thinking is that such a mobilisation would be a temporary measure to give the army breathing space and allow it to regroup and the new forces would co-ordinate with government troops to push back hard on the Taliban.

However this is Afghanistan. The prospect of unleashing warlords’ private armies fills many Afghans with dread, reminding them of the anarchy of the 1990s. Such militias, raised along ethnic lines, tended to turn on each other and the general population.

With America gone and Afghan forces melting away, the Taliban fancy their prospects. They show little sign of engaging in serious negotiations with Mr Ghani’s administration. Yet they control no major towns or cities. Sewing up the countryside puts pressure on the urban centres, but the Taliban may be in no hurry to force the issue. They generally lack heavy weapons. They may also lack the numbers to take a city against sustained resistance. On July 7th they failed to capture Qala-e-Naw, a small town. Besides, controlling a city would bring fresh headaches. They are not good at providing government services.

Perhaps the Taliban have learned their history lesson and might refrain from attacking Kabul this time around. Their best course may be to tighten the screws and wait for the government to buckle. American predictions of its fate are getting gloomier. Intelligence agencies think Mr Ghani’s government could collapse within six months, according to the Wall Street Journal. So clearly the momentum is on the side of the Taliban and they just need to chip away at Ghani’s forces one district after another until the inevitable and hateful surrender of the central Afghan government to their demands.

At the very least, the civil war is likely to intensify, as the Taliban press their advantage and the government fights for its life. Other countries - China, India, Iran, Russia and Pakistan - will seek to fill the vacuum left by America. Some will funnel money and weapons to friendly warlords. The result will be yet more bloodshed and destruction, in a country that has suffered constant warfare for more than 40 years. Those who worry about possible reprisals against the locals who worked as translators for the Americans are missing the big picture: America, Britain and other allies are abandoning an entire country of almost 40m people to a grisly fate.

Nothing exemplifies - at least in Afghan eyes - of all that has gone wrong with American involvement in Afghanistan than in the manner of their leaving.

The U.S. left Afghanistan's Bagram Airfield after nearly 20 years by shutting off the electricity and slipping away in the night without notifying the base's new Afghan commander, who discovered the Americans' departure more than two hours after they left in the middle of the night without raising any alarms.

They left behind 3.5 million items, including tens of thousands of bottles of water, energy drinks and military MRE's (Meals Ready to Eat ration packs to the uninitiated). Thousands of civilian vehicles were left, many without keys to start them, and hundreds of armoured vehicles. The Americans also left small weapons and ammunition, but the departing US troops took heavy weapons with them. Ammunition for weapons not left for the Afghan military was blown up.

Now that is some feat considering the logistics of this mass exodus without drawing any attention. You have obviously been to Bagram and so you will know just how big and sprawling it is. Bagram Airfield is the size of a small city, roadways weaving through barracks and past hangar-like buildings. There are two runways and more than 100 parking spots for fighter jets known as revetments. One of the two runways is 12,000 feet long and was built in 2006. There's a passenger lounge, a 50-bed hospital and giant hangar-size tents filled with furniture. And all those shops to remind Americans of home from familiar fast food restaurants and hairdressers and massage parlours to buying clothing and jewellery and buying a Harley Davidson motorbike (or so I’ve been told).

I’m guessing that the Afghans were certainly outside of the wire and probably had not been inside Bagram Airfield for months. So from the outset they would not have had any reason to think anything was going on until the generators probably ran out of fuel and it started to go a little too quiet. The inner gate was probably discretely left unlocked and when the US stopped answering the radio/phone and then they probably investigated.

Before the Afghan army could take control of the airfield about an hour's drive from the Afghan capital, Kabul, it was invaded by a small army of looters, who ransacked barrack after barrack and rummaged through giant storage tents before being evicted, according to Afghan troops. Afghan military leaders insist the Afghan National Security and Defense Force could hold on to the heavily fortified base despite a string of Taliban wins on the battlefield. The airfield includes a prison with about 5,000 prisoners, many of them allegedly Taliban members.

I’m pretty sure some bright spark in the US Pentagon public affairs dept convinced his military superiors that it was important to avoid the optics of Americans leaving in the same way they did in Vietnam in case it depresses the American public and the US military. Instead it demoralised its allies, the Afghan national army who are now the only line of defence against the Taliban. In one night, they lost all the goodwill of 20 years by leaving the way they did, in the night, without telling the Afghan soldiers who were outside patrolling the area. The manner in which the Americans left Bagram air base amounts to a resounding vote of no confidence in Afghanistan’s future. It just looks bad.

The U.S. choice came with costs attached to each decision. With staying, the cost was potential U.S. troop casualties and a fear that things would not change on the ground. With leaving comes the cost of a deeper conflict in Afghanistan and a backsliding of progress made there over the past two decades. In many ways, the costs of staying seem shorter-term and borne by the United States, while the costs of leaving will be predominantly borne by Afghans over a longer time horizon. Yet, even if those costs seem remote now, history tells us that they will be blamed on the United States.

Biden perhaps reflective of history of Americans getting into quagmires abroad didn’t want to be seen exerting time and energy for a losing cause. His decision also reflects his administration’s foreign policy for the American middle-class paradigm, which focuses on domestic considerations over international ones (and is this so different from Trump’s “America First”? No, it is not). The irony, though, is that the American middle class largely doesn’t care about Afghanistan - their ambivalence gave way to support for this decision once it was announced, but it wouldn’t be hard to visualise the public approving of a scenario that kept a couple thousand troops there for a while longer.

What’s perhaps most disturbing is the narrative the president has presented along with the rationale for withdrawal: that America went to Afghanistan to defeat al-Qaida after 9/11, that mission creep led America to stay on too long and, therefore, it is time to get out. This takes an incomplete view of U.S. agency in the war in Afghanistan. The narrative implies that the civil conflict in Afghanistan today did not originate with America - that this more than 40-year war began with the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in 1979, preceded America’s interference in Afghanistan, and will follow our departure.

The fact of the matter is that, by beginning the campaign in Afghanistan in 2001 and overthrowing the Taliban, who were then engaged in their draconian rule, and installing a new government, we western allies began a new phase of the Afghan conflict — one that pitted the Kabul government and the United States/Britain/NATO against the Taliban insurgency. The Afghan people did not have a say in the matter. That we allied powers are leaving Afghan women, children, and youth better off in many ways after 20 years is due to us, and we should be proud of that. But that we are leaving them mired in a bloody conflict is also due to us, because we could not hold off the Taliban insurgency, and we must all reckon publicly with that.

I have to ask myself why did we fail?

I’m only speaking about us Brits now as I’m sure you have your own thoughts as an ex-Marine officer of what you thought of the American military effort. Yes, I’m copping out of really bashing the yanks because first, I have too much respect for those fantastic American service men and women I did have the privilege to fight alongside with; and second, we Brits have nothing to crow about as we fucked up in lots of ways too, and to make things worse, we should have known better given our imperial history with Afghanistan.

The seeds of our failure in Afghanistan lies in not learning from history. We didn’t have a mission that was properly defined nor did we have a strategy that was clear, coherent, and easily communicated to both its fighting men and women as well as to the British public.

Were we there to get our hands bloody and to root out and destroy extreme Islamist terrorists or were we there to indulge in state building out of some idealistic notions of liberal humanitarianism? This question was at heart of our failure within our government and also within the British army as well as our relations with America and our NATO allies and finally the Afghans themselves.

Although never colonised in the same manner as other central and south Asian countries, the modern Afghan state is very much a creation borne out of great power rivalry. A land occupied by a number of different ethnic, linguistic and religious groups, it is a country whose borders were defined by, and whose sense of national identity was forged in response to western great power competition. Its geopolitical position - landlocked, mountainous, and surrounded by past great powers and present regional rivals - lends Afghanistan a dual role of geographic obscurity and great strategic significance, and has as such frequently been treated as little more than a buffer state between empires and a proxy of local powers. Its shared historical border with Russia and British India made it an object of imperial intrigue and, by consequence, has been subject to five European military interventions in the last 175 years.

The first three interventions of these occurred during the era of ‘the Great Game’ in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, in which Britain and Russia (latterly the Soviet Union) competed for influence and control over Afghan politics in order to protect their respective imperial holdings in India and central Asia.

The fourth and fifth interventions, ranging from the late 1970s to the present day, similarly involved attempts by Soviets and then by an American-led international coalition to remove political leaders acting against their interests and to protect their favoured candidates.

The unifying feature of all these conflicts was the idea of Afghanistan as the site of potential threats to the interests and security of more powerful states.

Britain’s legacy in Afghanistan in particular set the tone for the country’s historical pattern of conflict and political contestation, fuelling both the intermittent emergence of Afghan national consciousness and a fractious political lineage that saw thirteen amirs in just eighty years. Interventions by the Empire during the Great Game set the conditions for the assassination of ostensibly national leaders by their compatriots (Shah Shuja Durrani in the First war) or their exile by the British (Shere Ali Khan and Ayub Khan in the Second).

Despite the British achieving their aim of protecting India in the second and third conflicts by maintaining Afghanistan as either a pro-British buffer state or as a neutral party, the Afghan narrative tends to emphasise successes such as the massacre of British forces retreating from Kabul to Jalalabad in 1842, the defeat of British and Indian forces at Maiwand in 1880, and the gaining of sovereignty in foreign affairs in 1919.

Soviet intervention in the late 1970s and 1980s further buttressed this identity of resistance, and the failure and ultimate overthrow of the Communist-backed Najibullah government, as well as the collapse of the Soviet Union shortly after their drawdown from Afghanistan, led to a sense amongst the victorious mujahidin of the country as the ‘graveyard of empires’.

Afghanistan’s modern history should thus be seen as inextricably linked to the ebbs and flows of great power politics. Each intervention exacerbated extant internal power struggles between rival elite individuals and groups vying for nominal control over the country. Foreign intervention in Afghanistan was met on each occasion with fierce resistance from tribal militias coalesced around religion; as has been remarked upon by one historian of the country, the threat of external domination has been one of the few means of uniting its disparate population around the concept of an Afghan ‘nation’, and in most cases this shared sense of identity cohered around religion, not nationalism.

Indeed, the presence of intervening powers and the development of the Afghan state may be seen as mutually supporting: whilst most Afghan leaders throughout the last two centuries have asserted their sovereignty over the country, the reality has in most circumstances been one of competing tribal chiefs and/or ‘warlords’ rather than a single dominant leader.

Where leaders have managed to cohere the disparate tribal and ethnic groupings of the country under one banner - most notably under the regime of Dost Mohamed Khan (1826-1839, 1845-1863) – this was due in large part to their diplomatic abilities of compromise and co-optation with Afghanistan’s regional power- brokers. In other cases, such as that of the reign of Abdurrahman (1880- 1901), power was maintained by an unflinching ‘internal imperialism’ and the use of punitive force against rebellious factions.

The challenges of maintaining and projecting centralised power in Afghanistan allow us to see the relationship of its leaders with world or regional powers in the last two centuries as one of mutual exploitation. Throughout the Great Game and the Cold War, whilst the British/Americans and Russians/Soviets would use threats and bribes (and occasionally force) to compel Afghan rulers to comply with their geopolitical needs, Afghan rulers themselves often deftly manipulated those powers to maintain and extend their own power.

The pattern followed by Afghan leaders from the nineteenth century to the present day is remarkably similar in the respect that most have relied upon a rentierist economic model, seeking external aid in order to sustain the cost of security and administration. The plan of modern rulers was to warm Afghanistan with the heat generated by the great power conflicts without getting drawn into them directly. Abdurrahman, for example, used British subsidies to fund his military campaigns against rebellious factions; the Musahiban rulers of the mid-twentieth century used American capital to develop its nascent economic infrastructure and Soviet finance to bolster its armed forces; and, following the overthrow of the last royal leader of Afghanistan, Mohamed Daoud, in 1978, the quasi-communist leadership of Babrak Karmal, Hafizullah Amin, Nur Muhammad Taraki, and Mohammad Najibullah during the late 1970s and 1980s relied in the main on Soviet money and military assistance in its ultimately failed attempt to implement socialist policies and put down the American, Saudi and Pakistani-backed mujahidin.

These trends continued into the post-Cold War period in respect to both the Taliban movement (essentially directed and funded by Pakistan), the Northern Alliance (funded largely by former Soviet central Asian states) and the regime of Hamid Karzai (maintained in economic and military terms by the American-led, NATO-operated International Security Assistance Force and the wider international community). In the former cases, occurring in the main in the period of civil war between 1992 and 2001, rentierism was limited to the maintenance of proxy parties and the continuation of conflict.

By contrast, the ISAF mission bore similarities with the Soviet-backed socialist regimes of the 1980s, insofar as it focused huge amounts of capital and military resources on stabilisation and state-building efforts. Both intervening parties made the error of ignoring Afghanistan’s political history and focused their efforts on bolstering the authority of a centralised state, both promoted policies that were deemed ‘universal’ in their application and were, unsurprisingly given such hubris, vulnerable to accusations by Afghan opposition to being alien and imperialistic ideologies, and both expended enormous amounts of blood and treasure in order to sustain the regimes they supported.

The UK’s struggle to locate a coherent strategy for Afghanistan should, therefore, be seen firstly in the light of the historical problematic of Afghan state-building. This is important in narrative terms because difficulties of defining strategy imply similar challenges in explaining strategy. As with its efforts to ‘think’ strategically, Britain’s ability to explain the strategy(ies) for the war in Afghanistan have been frequently criticised by various commentators. The most strategically debilitating aspect of the Afghan campaign has always been the incoherence of the mission’s purpose; indeed the question ‘‘why are we in Afghanistan?’’ has never really been settled in public consciousness. The international community massively underestimated the difficulties of state-building and greatly overstretched themselves in the commitments made to Afghanistan, and that they did so because ‘strategies’ for Afghanistan rested on assumptions of the universal applicability of liberal state-building.

The international community from the start (meaning from the Bonn Conference of late 2001) fundamentally misunderstood the nature of an Afghan society deeply ravaged by decades of conflict, and failed to foresee the malign effects state-building ventures would have on the country. Specifically, the Bonn Conference, which set out the parameters of the post-invasion Afghan state, implemented a centralised state system onto a state whose experience of such was limited, and where the success of such a system in extending its authority beyond the major cities was predicated on coercion and the use of force.

Historically this has rarely been a credible option for Afghan rulers or their international backers, and was even less so under the self-imposed restrictions of liberal war-fighting and state-building. Rather, re-creating a centralised state required Afghan and international actors to enter into the same methods of co-optation and compromise as those of the past; in necessitating these kind of measures – as opposed to implementing a looser, federal system of governance – the centralisation of the Afghan state paved the way for a reconstitution of a ruling order based on tribal elements and ‘strongmen’. This produced something of a paradox for state-builders, as the creation of a strong, central state capable of implementing liberal policies across Afghanistan came at the cost of entering into alliances with ‘warlords’ known for their illiberal and coercive political approaches and illicit economic activities.

Another unintended but unavoidable consequence of centralised state-building identified by scholars is the re-constitution of the rentier state in Afghanistan. Post-Bonn, Afghanistan returned to its historical norm of maintaining the state via the extraction of external security and development rents, without which it would almost certainly implode due to the ruinous state of its economy and taxation system. Studies have shown that his new rentierism differed from previous patronage systems at the state level insofar as it was fuelled by an unprecedented influx of capital and resources into the country. This had the effect of introducing regulated systems of ‘neo-patrimonalism’, where departments were to be distributed as rewards to the various factions that took part in the Bonn conference, and there had to be enough rewards to go around.

In other words, the structure of the post-invasion Afghan state was, to a great extent, defined not by the demands of good governance, the needs of the country or the demands of post-conflict stabilisation and reconstruction – the purposes for which the centralised model was chosen to promote – but rather by the first-order need to avoid the derailment of the centralised state by co-opting regional power brokers.

Because of the imperative of shoring up a nascent state by securing support from potential competitors, the gulf between the ends of liberal state-building and the illiberal means required to facilitate its functioning can therefore be seen to a certain extent as inevitable.

A major issue, however, was that the patrimonial linkages created by the state for its regional proxies was not comprehensive, as it did not extend to the Taliban’s Pashtun heartland and, as such, fuelled resentment and alienation as much as they placated and co- opted extra-state power brokers. Key players in the Northern Alliance - the primarily Tajik opposition to the Taliban - received prestigious posts within the state, whilst the predominantly Pashtun Taliban were themselves excluded from such arrangements. Because those rewarded by the state tended to be given ministerial or governorial roles in cities, the conflict dynamic tended to reflect an urban – rural divide similar to that of the Soviet occupation. Along this reading, the neo-Taliban insurgency was in many ways a product of the political miscalculations and deficiencies of post-invasion state- building activities.

Given this starting point, such a view concludes that the strategic problems encountered by the international community in Afghanistan were, to a large degree, problems created by (or at the very least exacerbated by) the state-builders themselves. They misread Afghan politics in a way that reflected their own philosophical assumptions about the state and society.

Strategy in Afghanistan suffered because the coalition effort, comprised of multiple national actors and the United Nations, rarely took on the form of a unified effort. Part of the reason for this was a divergence of opinion between actors as to the ultimate purpose – counter-terrorism or state-building – of the intervention.

In the first years of the Afghan campaign, the United States’ Bush Administration remained staunchly opposed to what it called ‘nation building’ and opted instead to pursue a policy of capture- or-kill missions against suspected terrorists. For the United Nations and most of the United States’ European NATO allies, however, state-building was considered a necessary element of any counter-terrorist strategy. This difference of opinion was manifest from the start by the creation of two parallel missions – the US-led, counter-terrorism-focused Operation Enduring Freedom (OEF) and the stabilisation missions of the European Union, United Nations (United Nations Assistance Mission in Afghanistan (UNAMA)) and NATO (International Security Assistance Force (ISAF)) – engaged in seemingly incompatible aims of military prosecution and peace building.

Opinion on the impact of this dual approach varies. Some scholars have noted, along lines similar to those critiquing the state-building efforts of the international community that the approach taken by the UN, EU and ISAF was too ambitious, naïve and unrealistic, and therefore bound to fall short of their liberal political and economic goals. Both Europe and these international agencies ignored the necessity of paring down the international community’s state-building efforts to core, security-centric capacity building within the Afghan National Security Forces. But of course one can make the counter argument, as many have of course, that on the contrary it was the insufficiencies of state-building approaches vis-à-vis OEF’s counter-terrorist approach that led to subsequent failures in UN and ISAF efforts; specifically, that a disproportionate focus on counter-terrorism missions meant that opportunities of peace- building were irreparably compromised.

Within NATO there was a division not just of opinions but also one of mission relating to different political perspectives about the purpose of the Afghan mission and its ultimate referent object – whether it was primarily about the interests of the coalition member states or concerned in the main with Afghanistan itself – and, from that, the methods to be employed in pursuit of one or another objective. This was not merely a debate bounded by strategic necessity, however; rather, such debates stemmed as much from institutional disagreements over who would or could do what in Afghanistan, which in turn arose from the differences in political constitutions and cultural attitudes towards counterinsurgency and counter- terrorism.

These ‘national caveats’ or ‘red cards’ of participation created significant problems for NATO in Afghanistan, both political, in terms of the relations between states and the abiding sense amongst some that others were ‘free-riding’ on the collective security system and, and strategic and operational, in the sense that command-and-control capabilities and cohesion between forces were limited by the engagement restrictions placed on certain armed forces. Indeed, the disproportionate burden placed on combat-oriented states like the United States, the United Kingdom, and several new member states in Eastern Europe led to political statements denouncing Europe’s perceived transgressors of collective security participation; former US Defence Secretary Robert Gates argued, for example, that NATO had effectively become a ‘two-tier alliance’ ‘between members who specialise in ‘soft’ humanitarian, development, peacekeeping and talking tasks and those conducting the ‘hard’ combat missions - between those willing and able to pay the price and bear the burdens of alliance commitments, and those who enjoy the benefits of NATO membership... but don’t want to share the risks and the costs’.

A lack of strategic unity was the natural consequence of a structural compromise that produced two distinct strategic authorities that were, in many ways, competing with one another. Along similar lines to the political arrangements between the Afghan state and its regional proxies, the NATO alliance structure can be seen (and evidently is seen by officials such as Gates) as patrimonial: states participated on the basis of fulfilling their own interests and along operational lines that were complementary to those interests, for the purposes of securing an alliance structure that accommodated all participants ahead of the imperative of creating a coherent strategy for stabilising Afghanistan. As with the neo-patrimonialism of the Karzai regime NATO’s efforts would be dictated by the limitations imposed upon it by circumstance.

Thus, in the cases of Afghanistan’s and the international community’s internal political dynamics, strategy was confined by the structure of the Afghan state and society, the structure of the international community and NATO, and the interplay between those structures. The implication here is that the agency required for the possibility of a workable strategy may have been illusory from the start.

Leaving Afghanistan was never going to be pretty, but the latest turn is uglier than expected.

No one quite expected the speed of collapse within the Afghan National Army to hold of attacks of the Taliban. I don’t think it’s do with the lack of training or their professional skills is lacking (though there may be some truth in it). A big driver in the collapse is the money for wages, food and medical care for troops is syphoned to Dubai, so the Afghans who want to fight, and there are quite a few who hate the Taliban, get less replenishment than the 6th army in the last weeks of Stalingrad. They have arms, ammo and boots for this season only and that is it. Both money and morale are in short supply for these soldiers.

If I was a trained soldier in the Afghan National Army I would desert. I would say to them abandon the fixed defences these ‘ferenghis’ (foreigners) have gifted you and move to the hills and seek refuge with your tribal clan, who will be glad of the arms and experience you bring. Or get over the border if you are lucky to be in the North, if in the West you hire yourself to the Narcos in the badlands on the Iran border. Most other places it is either a last stand or defection, your Government and their relatives have already got their planes fuelled up in Kabul ready to move to their villa complexes in the UAE.

I’m being a trifle cynical but for good reason. Everyone who has been to Afghanistan sees the veil lifted on the corruption of aid and how the elites protect themselves ahead of defending the masses who bear the brunt of the bloodshed.

The corruption has been endemic from the get go, but the international community ignored it all for 'progress'. Any Afghan politico you hear on the media complaining about the West abandoning Afghanistan has at least $30 million parked in Dubai that should have gone to the soldiers, teachers, doctors, builders etc.

As spectacular as the collapse of the Afghan National Army has been it’s been even more scarier seeing how swift the Taliban has been in taking over vital provincial areas through propaganda, civilian intimidation, and rapid attacks. One by one, the Taliban has been taking over areas in a number of provinces in northern Afghanistan in recent weeks. The Taliban says it has taken control of 90 districts across the country since the middle of May. Some were seized without a single shot fired.

The UN's special envoy on Afghanistan, Deborah Lyon put the figure lower, at 50 out of the nation's 370 districts, but feared the worst was yet to come. Most districts that have been taken surround provincial capitals, suggesting that the Taliban are positioning themselves to try and take these capitals once all foreign forces are fully withdrawn. On a map, it's easy to see the point Lyon is making. A stark example is Mazar-i-Sharif, the biggest city in the north and a significant power centre in its own right. It was the rock upon which the Northern Alliance fought against the Taliban.

It is significant the Taliban are kicking off this offensive in the north, not their heartland in the south and east. The north was the toughest part of the country for them to crack last time. Their expectation is if they have victory there, success will flow much easier in their traditional homelands further south.

The strategy of taming the north extends to emasculating and profiting from trade routes to neighbours. On Monday night they captured the important border town of Shir Khan Bandar, Afghanistan's main crossing into Tajikistan. Earlier in the day, top Tajik government officials had met to discuss concerns about the growing instability next door. There is no indication that the Taliban intend to take their fight north of the border, but in the past Tajikistan has been a vital conduit for supplies flowing to the militants' northern enemies.

The last time the Taliban controlled the city was 20 years ago, when they left hundreds of captives in steel trucking containers to suffocate and die in the scorching desert heat. Now, the militants are back at the city gates once again, as part of a lightning offensive against Afghan government forces that has set alarm bells ringing from Kabul to Washington. So it should worry us all where will all this lead to.

America's drawdown seems to be the game changer. The Taliban have been beaten back several times in recent years, notably from Kunduz in 2015. The Taliban captured it briefly before US airstrikes were called in. Civilian casualties were high but the militants were driven out. The militant group has never been able to withstand the heavy US and NATO air assaults backing Afghan ground forces, but now the US and NATO are leaving, so is much of the threat of sophisticated and sustained air power. And the Taliban are well aware of this.

It seems to me behind the choice of withdrawal by the Biden government lies a bigger assumption that drives that choice. That is the Taliban militants' perceived desire for international recognition. This has been the mantra underpinning the American exit. The logic of the American argument has been simple: The Taliban wouldn't renege on their agreements with the US because they crave international acceptance. The events of this past week and more appear to blow a hole in that assumption.

Another assumption that’s currently being blown out of the water is the US establishing some presence outside of Afghanistan so that if it needs to intervene again to combat terrorism or flush out militants then it can do so from the safety of a neighbouring country. But so far no country has come forward to reciprocate. And why would they? Like the Afghans, no one likes foreign troops with boots on the ground in their country. Only the central Asian republics and possibly Pakistan would come close to allowing that but there would be a political cost those governments would pay with their people. Moreover by welcoming the Americans in, they also allow the militants to target that country too.

Another assumption is the nature of the Taliban support and links to terrorist groups. The U.S. may not face any serious post-withdrawal Afghan support of extremist threats to the United States, even if the Taliban does take over. It is all too true that the Taliban continues to talk to the remnants of Al Qaeda, as do elements of the Pakistani military. It is unclear, however, that these remnants of Al Qaeda focus on attacks on the U.S., and the Taliban does seem to oppose ISIS. It is also unclear that the Taliban will host other extremist movements that focus on attacking the U.S. or states outside the region.

It is unclear that any key element of the Taliban has an interest in such attacks on the United States. Even Al Qaeda now focuses largely on objectives inside Islamic countries, and it is unclear that some other major extremist force will emerge in Afghanistan that do not focus on regional threats and on taking over vulnerable, largely Islamic states.

At the same time, one needs to be careful about the assumption that the U.S. can defeat any such threats by launching precision air and missile strikes against extremist targets. It is unclear that the forces in Afghanistan involved in any small covert attacks on the U.S. will be easy to target and cripple if they do emerge. The Taliban is unlikely to tolerate major training camps and facilities for extremist forces, and any such strikes will present major problems for the U.S. if the extremist threat consists of scattered small facilities and small expert cadres that shelter among the Afghan population.

It is also far from clear that more intense U.S. air attacks on Taliban forces from outside Afghanistan will have any decisive effects. The loss of limited numbers of Taliban fighters as well as some key Taliban leaders and facilities will not offset the pace of their victories in the countryside or enable the central government to survive. A continuing U.S. ability to target and kill some key Taliban leaders and fighters also does not mean that the risk of such strikes will deter future Taliban willingness to let small, extremist strike groups conduct well-focused, well-planned strikes on U.S. or allied territory, especially if such groups in Afghanistan sponsor attacks on the U.S. or it strategic partner by strike units or cadres based in other countries.

At the same time, it does seem more likely that the Taliban, and/or any independent extremist groups, will focus largely on Iran, Pakistan, Russia, China, and the other “-Stans.”

Going forward I think we need to re-evaluate many of our assumptions about the war in Afghanistan.

The objectives of the Authorised Use of Military Force approved by the US Congress in 2001 have long been accomplished. Once Osama bin Laden was killed in Operation Neptune Spear in 2011, the last element of the AUMF was met. The American and British mission in Afghanistan was complete. But America and Britain did not leave because we wanted to do a spot of state building to curb the spread of militant islamist terror. That was a mistake as it turned out.

Post-Neptune Spear, The American, the British, and their allies’ conventional mission should have been ended, adopting instead a laser focus on intelligence collection and offensive special operations to prevent al-Qaeda (or any terrorist organisation) from re-establishing safe havens and training areas.

What was needed for an acceptable ‘victory’ and a ‘saving face’ withdrawal was to embrace the use of Afghan Militia Forces the same way the Allies did for our initial entry way back in 2001.

In 2001, Western powers won the initial military engagement in 42 days using special operations forces with local and regional allies - we need to return to this format - and through a combination of special operations and specific information operations efforts, regaining the high ground and influence over ‘centres of gravity’. The issue is not the number of troops, but the mission of the forces there. Once the mission is defined, the number of forces needed would be clear.

It has never been about the number of troops - it’s been about the lack of an achievable mission assigned to our forces in Afghanistan.

The US engaged in ‘nation-building’ for the wrong reasons - and has seen bad results. We installed Hamid Karzai, served as his praetorian guard to protect the new central government and abandon our AMF allies and attempted to build a large, bulky, expensive and ineffective Afghan National Army - a force that is now evaporating before our eyes. It was folly.

Americans will never make the Afghan people more like them - nor will they be able to instil what my American colleagues used to fondly refer to as ‘a Jeffersonian democracy’ in Afghanistan. That day may come but only when the Afghan people wish it to be so. Lest it be forgotten Americans sought independence in 1776; the Afghan people seek self-reliance and independence from foreign influence. This is their defining historical DNA: escape from any outside control.

The Afghan people are not ungoverned, they are self-governed - with no tradition of central democracy and no desire for our version of democracy or ‘prosperity’. By pushing ‘prosperity’ we had become targets for both the Afghan government and the Taliban. This has ended, but we must draw a distinction between the end of nation-building and the continuation of our own interests in Afghanistan and the region.

It is time to adopt a practical policy based on what will work and is in our allied interests, rather than by funding the aspirations of progressive politicians who have no real understanding of Afghanistan.

First, we must establish a clear post-‘state-building’ strategy - with achievable objectives. We must return to the policy and operational format we know will work - cooperation with Afghan tribal leaders and militia. This type of force was used to achieve the initial victory in 2001. Empowered warlords and regional leaders were the force multiplier that worked as the Afghan Militia Forces - and can again, in partnership with our Special Operations Forces work now. Intelligence collection and limited military operations should be our focus.

There is no way around it. One has to play the Great Game. Think tribal rather than central. Afghan nationhood is a liberal Western wet dream.

The central government is weak and corrupt just like all the other rulers of the past. The Afghan National Army is not as strong as it is on paper. It can hardly prop itself up rather than any government. Most of the Afghan National Army troops have stronger tribal loyalties than to the concept of a nation. Since the tribal chiefs play both sides to hedge their bets, it's no wonder 'their' people do what they're told. The Taliban know this because that has always been the Afghan way, so the tribes go with them. Provided the Taliban honour their promises to the tribal chiefs, the Taliban can do what they want.

On one hand, the tribes won't now be too bothered by central government and have a large pool of Western-trained troops to prop them up. On the other hand, they now have to do business formally with the Taliban again. Largely in order to get their hands on Western-supplied aid that will surely follow after the Americans leave.

Second, we must accept the reality of Pakistani influence in Afghanistan - and work with the Pakistanis to counter al-Qaeda and the other militants now attacking Pakistani targets within Pakistan. Pakistan has made great advances in securing the tribal areas on the other side of the border and they have always been the de facto control of much of the Taliban force capacity, such as the Haqqani network. Working with Pakistan is the best option within the current circumstance.

‘Endless wars’ are not an American value. The use of the US military must only be used in response to genuine threats, when American interests are at stake or lives in danger. Withdrawal of conventional military forces and discontinuing nation building is in the US interest: leaving Afghanistan is not.

Third, make Afghanistan China’s problem. Afghanistan could easily become a hotbed for growing Islamic extremism, which would to some extent affect stability in Xinjiang.

It is not without reason that Afghanistan is known as the “graveyard of empires”. The ancient Greeks, the Mongols, the Mughals, the British, the Soviet Union and most recently the US have all launched vainglorious invasions that saw their ambitions and the blood of their soldiers drain into the sand. But after each imperial retreat, a new tournament of shadows begins. With the US pulling out of Afghanistan, China is casting an anxious gaze towards its western frontier and pursuing talks with an ascendant Taliban. The burning questions are not only whether the Taliban can fill the power vacuum created by the US withdrawal but also whether China - despite its longstanding policy of “non-interference” - may become the next superpower to try to write a chapter in Afghanistan’s history.

Beijing has held talks with the Taliban and although details of the discussions have been kept secret, government officials, diplomats and analysts from Afghanistan, India, China and the US said that crucial aspects of a broad strategy were taking shape. An Indian government official said China’s approach was to try to rebuild Afghanistan’s shattered infrastructure in co-operation with the Taliban by channelling funds through Pakistan, one of Beijing’s firmest allies in the region. China is Pakistan’s wallet.

It has been reported that Beijing has been insisting that the Taliban limit its ties with groups that it said were made up of Uyghur terrorists in return for such support. The groups, which Beijing refers to as the East Turkestan Islamic Movement, are an essential part of China’s security calculus in the region. The ETIM groups were estimated by the UN Security Council last year to number up to 3,500 fighters, some of whom were based in a part of Afghanistan that borders China. Both the UN and the US designated the ETIM as terrorists in 2002 but Washington dropped its classification last year. China has accused the ETIM of carrying out multiple acts of terrorism in Xinjiang, its north-western frontier region, where Beijing has kept an estimated 1m Uyghur and other minority peoples in internment camps.

In a clear indication of Beijing’s determination to counter the ETIM, Wang Yi, China’s foreign minister, exhorted counterparts from the central Asian states of Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan and Turkmenistan this year to co-operate to smash the group. “We should resolutely crack down on the ‘three evil forces’ [of extremism, terrorism and separatism] including the East Turkestan Islamic Movement,” Wang said in May according to Chinese news media which I follow.

The importance of this task derived in part from the need to protect large-scale activities and projects to create a safe Silk Road. Silk Road is one of the terms that Chinese officials use to refer to the Belt and Road Initiative, the signature foreign policy strategy of President Xi Jinping to build infrastructure and win influence overseas.

An important part of China’s motivation in seeking stability in Afghanistan is protecting existing BRI projects in Pakistan and the central Asian states while potentially opening Afghanistan to future investments. China would have to more actively support efforts to ensure political stability in Afghanistan. So make them work for it. Western powers need to leverage China’s problems in Xinjiang to be more active in Afghanistan.

International media outlets and intelligence agencies worldwide have been circulating reports pointing toward the creation of a Chinese military base in the Wakhan Corridor of Afghanistan’s Badakhshan province for a while now. Although China has not embarked on militarisation programs on foreign soil historically, and has profusely denied the rumours about building an Afghan “mountain brigade,” China’s first overseas military base in Djibouti provides an example of China’s newly adopted strategy of leveraging economic influence to further its strategic objectives. There’s even some chatter amongst Chinese officials that Beijing may entertain the idea of being part of a future UN international force should one be needed in Afghanistan (a bad idea but hey, let China find out first hand for itself).

The Afghan government was able to maintain a measure of stability largely because of the superiority of US air support. The drones, gunships, helicopters and heavy air artillery were unmatched by the Taliban. But when the US leaves, that advantage will evaporate. China’s imperative to create overland trade routes to Europe and the Middle East may draw it inevitably into Afghanistan’s domestic strife.

Of course China’s forward policy in the Wakhan Corridor needs to be assessed with a critical eye. Although on one level it seems to be motivated primarily by the threat of radicalisation, China’s interest in the region is also contingent on the strategic role that Afghanistan is capable of playing in the larger scheme of things. Despite China’s vehement denial, there seems to be sufficient evidence available indicating a definite military build up in the region, which provides China with an opportunity to showcase its ability to transform into a balancing force in the regional dynamics. I think that is a trade off that both America and Europe can afford to concede under the current circumstances.

In conclusion In the face of failure, there is an impulse to move on and not ask “what led to this?” But to avoid a reckoning with our follies is to risk their repetition, or worse.

it is probably too late to salvage either the civil or military situation in Afghanistan. It almost certainly is too late to salvage it with limited in-country U.S. forces, outside U.S. airpower and intelligence assets, and with no real peace agreement or functional peace process. Limited military measures are not the answer, and neither is simply reinforcing the past processes of failure. Tragic as it may be, withdrawal may not solve anything and may well make conditions worse for millions of Afghans, but reinforcing failure is not a meaningful strategy.

I do feel strongly that both the American and British governments must establish a clear path of redemption so that those who served and the families who sacrificed loved ones know that their loss was not wasted. At the same time our civilian governments must limit missions to intelligence collection and counter-terrorism missions that will prevent the metastasis of al-Qaeda or Isis in the region should the Afghan government fall. How we balance these two is going to be very interesting to follow in the next chapter in Afghanistan’s tortured history.

I apologise for the length of this post. This has been a hard post to write because of the subject matter and the many conflicted emotions and memories I have of my time in Afghanistan. I wish I had all the answers but I suppose the beginning of wisdom would be to know how to ask the right questions. Because we didn’t ask the right questions when we went in, we ended up making a real mess of it.

There is an understandable desire to bring all our allied troops home safe and that not another life is lost there. Yet I doubt this policy of withdrawing all troops will bring peace to anyone, not to us and most of all, the Afghanis themselves. As always in war it is the native population that will bear the real cost of war, in this case women, girls, and others brutalised under Taliban rule. What lies for them if the Taliban regain power to govern the country in their image is something I care not to imagine but retain a deep foreboding of their continued suffering. Ordinary Afghanis just want a respite from war and have a chance to live in peace, but without having us foreigners or the Taliban around. It is hard to imagine that happening at all. Our desire to save our soldiers’ lives set against ordinary Afghanis being left at the mercy of the Taliban is one of those humbling and brutalising trade offs that any war can only offer.

Near the end of his famed novel, The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald described two of his privileged characters, Tom and Daisy, as “careless people” who “smashed up things and creatures” and then “retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness” to “let other people clean up the mess they had made.”

That description applies to America as a whole but also to we Brits and other Europeans, especially when we tire of a misguided war. Americans and we Brits are a careless people. In both Iraq and Afghanistan, we smashed up things and human beings with abandon, only to retreat into our materialism. No scratch that, returning soldiers retreated into themselves struggling with PTSD whilst the rest of our citizenry carried on with their own material struggles and their insipid culture wars. The point is we always leave others to clean up the mess in a very bloody fashion that never troubles our conscience.

Count on us, probably sooner rather than later, doing precisely the same thing in Afghanistan. Again.

Thanks for your question

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dangerousstrawberryshark · 4 years ago

Text

I Can Do Anything I Want

Requested from no one.

Tom Holland x Male Reader

(Tom be looking sexy)

Warning: Violence, kidnapping, psychotic Tom, mention of nudity, all character are above the age of 18

Background: March 21st, 2030, 7:00 PM, you were getting ready to bunker down with your mom and dad. You hoped that nothing would happen tonight but someone decided to come in and give you a visit.

Tom is 20 and you are 18

M/n: Male name.

L/n: Last name.

F/n: Friend's name

Word count: 2900

I hope you enjoy it!! Sorry if it is bad! And there are probably many mistakes and grammar errors.

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DISCLAIMER: I MEAN NO OFFENSE, DISRESPECT, OR HARM TO ANY OF THESE CELEBRITIES! THIS IS JUST FICTION.

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MINORS DNI. FEMALE READERS… I’LL ALLOW YOU TO READ MY FICS BUT DO NOT FETISHIZE ANY OF MY STORIES

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You were sitting on the couch with your mom sitting on the left side, and your father on your right side. You were waiting for the announcement to come on. ‘It's almost 7:00 PM…” you thought to yourself. The holiday you hated the most was about to begin.

Just then the emergency broadcast came on with that ear-shattering sound. And the screen on the TV turns blue with the symbol of the NFFA in the background.

“This is not a test.”

“This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge sanctioned by the U.S. Government.”

“Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.”

“Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.”

“Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.”

“Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 AM when the Purge concludes.”

“Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn.”

"May God be with you all.”

Then the air horn sirens blared meaning the Purge officially began. Your family has already set up defenses. You, of course, never participate. Your family put out blue flowers to show that they don’t want to participate but they support the purge.

You know your parents, they didn’t support this “holiday” at all. Come on now, 12 hours without any laws. Your parents spoke out against it.

Some (well most) Americans find the Purge to be successful. Unemployment rates plummeted down to 1 percent, crime rates decreased, and the economy was revived.

If you are wondering how this came into reality, it all started back in 2014.

(little history of how the Purge became a tradition in American society.)

In 2014, the United States was facing economic collapse, rising social unrest, and multiple wars. The economic collapse was worse than the Mortgage Crisis of 2008. Neighborhoods across the country were destroyed by an opioid epidemic.

Then a party was founded as a substitute for the Republicans and Democrats, they called themselves the New Founding Fathers of America or NFFA.

In 2016, the first experimental Purge took place and it proved to be successful. Then in 2017, the second experimental Purge began this time it was Nationwide.

Not long after that, the 28th amendment to the US constitution was ratified meaning that Purging is now an American right.

The Purge starts on March 21st at 7:00 PM and it ends at sunrise, March 22nd, 7:00 AM. all crime is legal for 12 hours, no killing high government officials, and don’t use explosives or bioweapons. Those who don’t follow the rules will be hanged.

This resulted in crime and unemployment rates dropping down 1 percent, government spending down 37 percent, and the GDP soared to 37.21 trillion dollars.

Still, many people disagreed with this because it was believed that the Purge was used as means of population control, and to decrease the poor population but they couldn’t do anything about it.

(little history lesson over. I just wanna include that part for those who have never seen the purge.)

We got off the couch and went to go do our own things. “Sweetie do wanna eat dinner?” my mom said, I smiled. “Yes please.” she smiled at me and went to go cook dinner. You went upstairs to chill in your room. Your window was boarded up but you could easily remove it when things go down.

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Time skip (8:00 PM)

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It's been one hour since commencement. You were up in your room just watching YouTube videos. Your mother was downstairs cooking Lasagna (or whatever your favorite dish is) your father was downstairs watching the news.

The news would keep up with things happening tonight. Were watching a live stream showing what was happening on the outside. Building on fire, people killing each other, and parties. All of this was caught on drones.

You would hear the occasional screams and gunfire in the area but you and your family were secure.

Then you heard banging on the front door. The door and windows were boarded up with wood planks. ‘Who is that?’ you thought, you were worried it was one of your bullies who decided tonight was the night they get to get rid of you.

You went downstairs to see your parents. They had fear in their eyes, then the door busted one. Three men wearing tuxedos with masks on walked in. then they pulled out their guns, that’s when you dashed and went up into your room.

Your parents tried to run but they were quickly gunned down. You could hear gunshots go off and their screams filled the house.

You locked your bedroom door and ran to the window to remove the wood plank blocking it. You could hear the footsteps coming up the stairs. One of them called out to you, “M/n⁓ where are you⁓? Come out from hiding… are you in your room?”

You recognized that deep British accent, it was Tom! Tom Holland from your class! ‘What did I do to him? I never did anything wrong to him!’ but that didn’t stop you from removing the plank. You jumped out the window and ran for it.

Tom busted through your door to see that you have escaped. He gritted his teeth and went downstairs to see his twin brothers sitting down on the couch with their masks off.

“So he got away?” the older twin said. “Yeah, he did. We’ll find him though. He isn’t stupid enough to go downtown. He’ll probably head to his friend's house.” Tom said a little anger that his precious lover had gone away.

“We already took care of his friends. But we couldn’t get to one of them.” The younger twin said, Tom nodded and went out to go find you.

(Btw Tom's parents live in the UK and they don’t know what he is doing. Tom’s brothers are just helping him catch you)

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Time skip (9:00 PM)

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You were running to your friend's house hoping they would help you. You had to be careful while running through the streets, there were purgers everywhere. The city of Los Angeles was crawling with them, especially in the downtown area.

Thankfully you took your phone with you to see what time it was. ‘9:00 PM.’ you turned off your but you made sure it was on silent mode so it wouldn't bring attention to you.

You had a little encounter with Purgers but they were quickly gunned down by a machine gun attached to the back of a car. You saw vehicles on fire, dead bodies, and an old lady just watching a body burn.

‘This is all crazy!’ you thought as you ran faster just to get off the streets but what you didn’t was that someone was following you.

After running for 30 minutes you finally arrived at one of your friend’s houses. You didn’t realize that their barricades were broken until you twisted the knob on the door.

You walked in to see the whole place trashed. You walked through the rooms to see F/N parents dead, lying on the floor. Their eyes were open, you see nothing in them. “Please don’t be dead…” you said putting your hand over your mouth as you tried not to cry out loud.

You slowly walked up the stairs and approached F/N’s room. There you saw it, F/N lying on the floor dead as well. You burst out crying but that ended when you heard a car pull up.

“Find him!” you knew who that was immediate. You couldn’t run anywhere because they were downstairs, and the window had steel as a barricade. So, you hid in F/n’s closet.

You knew they had a pile of clothing in the corner, so you buried yourself in their clothes. You heard their footsteps walking up the stairs, and them breaking down the door. Then you heard them in the room.

You could see a figure walking through a small hole in the clothing pile. You covered your mouth so you wouldn’t breathe too hard. “CLEAR!” the figure yelled and went back downstairs. You heard their conversation from downstairs because of how the walls were thin.

“I thought he would be here!” Tom yelled, and out of anger shots one of his own men. The twins and the other weren’t fazed by this. They knew Tom had a few screws loose.

Then you heard them leave but you didn’t believe they actually left so you decided to stay where you were for the 2 to 3 hours.

————————————————————————————

Time skip (3:00 AM)

————————————————————————————

While waiting you accidentally fell asleep (why? because of plot purposes and I'm the author)and you realized that it was 3:00 AM, 4 hours till the Purge ends. You thought you could stay here but then you smelt something burning.

You got out of the pile to see the room was on fire. ‘What?! How?’ you quickly got and ran before the roof caved in on you. The backdoor was barricaded but due to the fire, it melted the steel allowing you to escape. (is that possible?)

You were on the run again but before you left, you noticed a group of people watching the house burn. ‘Are those my teachers?’ The group was your teachers from different classes. You knew they didn’t like F/N at all.

‘What has this country become?’ if this keeps happening, if more innocent people keep dying, then the nation will become the “Nation of Murders.” you decided to ignore them and run.

But one of them saw you, “M/n? Is that you?” one of them yelled. You froze, ‘how did they--?’ you turned around to see them walking towards you. “Hey don't worry we ain’t kill you. You are our favorite student!”

You looked at them shocked. “Why are you out here? Aren’t you supposed to be with your parents?” you looked down and began to cry. They noticed and said they didn’t need to know.

“Do you wanna come with us? There’s a neighborhood block party.” you nodded and decided to go with them. ‘So I guess they kill the kids they hate.’ they then took you to one of the nearby parties.

But one of Tom’s men noticed and decided to alert the big boss.

(just to be clear, in the Purge series there isn’t a legal purge. Meaning that you can kill someone who is 18 or younger. Now that’s fucked up.)

You and the teachers arrived at the block party. You see everyone partying, some had creepy masks, and others were naked grinding against each other. You lost your teachers in the crowd so you decided to just hideout.

————————————————————————————

Time skip (6:00 AM, one hour till the Purge ends.)

————————————————————————————

(if you are wondering why Tom didn’t show up early, it's because he was busy doing something else….. Or maybe its because I was too lazy to put anything during that time skip)

You checked your phone and noticed it was 6:00 AM. ‘One more hour!’ you smiled as the night was finally coming to an end. The sun was rising in the distance but people were still partying. ‘I survived the night.’

You even began to party yourself in celebration of surviving. You had a couple of drinks but not enough to be completely drunk. You danced with some people. Overall you were having a good time

But that happiness was short-lived when the gunfire began to go off. People were screaming and tripping over each other as they tried to run away. You already knew who it was. Tom fucking Holland and his group arrived

He noticed you in the crowd and smirked as he can finally have you before the Purge ended. You ran away from the crowd to one of those large garbage containers. You hid behind them hoping Tom won’t find you.

You could still hear the screams of people and more gunfire further down the street. You creeped out from your hiding place and walked back to the street.

You were horrified by what you were seeing. Dead bodies everywhere, your teacher’s dead bodies, and some people you were dancing with. All dead.

Then you heard footsteps behind you, you turned around to see Tom there smiling sadistically at you. You admit he was kind of hot but that doesn’t matter right now. “Why are you doing this? I never did anything to you! And did you find me?! ”

(6:55 AM)

“Why’m I doing this? Well, it's because of M/n…… I love you M/n! You never did anything wrong. And how did I find you? Well, remember there's an app where you can track down certain people’s phones? Well, that’s how I found you, that and one of my men told me.” Tom sounded proud of what he just said.

(6:57 AM)

“I thought I could use this Purge night as a way to finally have you to myself! I hope you share the same feeling like me.” you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Tom…. look, you’re a cute guy, hell I would probably have dated if you just came up to me like a normal person would. But no, you went ahead and killed everyone. You killed my family and friends, and you think I share the same feeling like you! No!” you yelled the tension was thick and Tom was angry.

(6:59 AM)

“I loved you! And they were getting in the way!--” Tom took a pause, “If I can’t have then no one will!” Tom charged at you with his knife. ‘What happened to his gun?’

But you quickly snapped out when he charged at you. You dodged his attack but he stabbed you in the arm. He was about to finish when…

(7:00 AM)

*INSERT SIREN NOISE*

The siren went off meaning the Purge had come to an end. Tom was still going to attack but was stopped when a voice came on, “Stop what you are doing! I repeat stop what you are doing! The Purge has concluded. If anyone does a crime, you will face the consequences.”

Tom stopped what he was doing and looked at you, “Next Purge, I’m going to get you.” Tom then got into his car and drove off.

You felt like you were going to faint from blood loss but then someone drove up to you. “Hey, okay?! Oh my God, we need to get you to the hospital!” they picked you up and carried you into the backseat, and drove you to the nearest hospital.

The radio was on and began to report on tonight’s events. “Just after 7:00 AM, March 22nd Pacific Standard, the Annual Purge was concluded. Reports are coming from all over the nation that this was the most participated Purge yet….

364 days until the next Purge...

THE GOOD ENDING

Bad Ending.

Time skip (6:00 AM, one hour till the Purge ends.)

You even began to party yourself in celebration of surviving. Yo had a couple of drinks but not enough to be completely drunk. You danced with some people. Overall you were having a good time

You could still hear the screams of people and more gunfire further down the street. You creeped out from your hiding place and walked back to the street.

You were horrified by what you were seeing. Dead bodies everywhere, your teacher’s dead bodies, and some people you were dancing with. All dead.

Just then you felt something being injected into your neck. You passed out but before you completely passed out, you got a glimpse of who it was…. It was Tom.

“You're finally mine M/n. I’ll keep you forever…. No one will take us apart….”

PART TWO CAN BE FOUND HERE

#tom holland #x male reader #tom holland x male reader #the purge #violence #good ending #bad ending #kidnapping #psychotic tom holland #mention of nudity

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moontheoretist · 3 years ago

Text

MCU timeline, if they actually cared about the characters as much as we do:

Phase 1 (setting up the universe)

- Iron Man - Incredible Hulk (+ Bruce’s DID is included and well represented, Hulk is not shown as a monster which cannot control himself so much he hurts everybody around including Betty, in fact he is shown to avoid hurting anybody who isn’t actively shooting at him, Dr Samson and Rick Jones are a must for this origin story, post credit can stay the same) - Hawkeye (includes: his childhood with an abusive father, his brother Bradley, his past in the circus so basically his origin story, his deafness, him being conscripted by SHIELD, and post credit scene with him choosing not to kill Natasha) - Black Widow (includes: her childhood in the Red Room, the fall of USSR and change in Russian politics, KGB being dissolved, Natasha’s breaking of her programming, her leaving the Red Room thanks to meeting Hawkeye, the assassination of Dreykov’s daughter, What Happened in Bucharest, Natasha joining SHIELD, and post credit scene with her taking place of the PA which was supposed to apply to Stark Industries) - Iron Man 2 (+ more info about Howard’s abuse of Tony, Natasha is there, but it’s not her first appearance, and also she isn’t shown as if she knew she was in a movie) - Thor - Captain America: The First Avenger (I think that his stupid behavior in CW is completely set up by his origin story, so I wouldn’t change anything if we wanna have that conflict with him being more concerned about Bucky than literally anything else going on) - Captain Marvel (because her existence makes Fury think about Avengers and explains why Fury wanted to create them in the first place, also action happens mostly on Earth) - Avengers (+ Jane Foster and Darcy are part of the science team and greatly contribute to the plot as scientists, because I am fed up with women being sidelined)

And because Avengers has a post credit with Thanos we should get some movies in space now related to Thanos first, before Iron Man 3.

Phase 2 (we learn about the ultimate badguy)

- Guardians of the Galaxy - Thor: The Dark World (but hopefully better written, + no damselling of Jane) - War Machine (Rhodey’s only movie, Tony is busy doing whatever) - Hawkeye 2 (how Clint dealt with everything which happened during Avengers, how SHIELD agents treated him, introducing his family?, maybe bringing back Barney and showing his relationship with Mockingbird and stuff like those) - Iron Man 3 (without the ableist meta message that all disabled people just wait to become murder machines, but still introducing Extremis) - Black Widow 2 (could be the same story as we got in 2021, introducing Yelena Belova) - Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch (includes: their childhood, how their parents died (Yugoslavia being bombed by NATO, but I doubt Hollywood would ever wanna say it out loud), them growing in orphanage, possibly attending university (universities for citizens in Serbia are free and because Sokovia is based on Serbia, and it is a slavic country we can assume they have that system as well, and there are also social support programs available from both the government and possibly the university as well), the difficulties of a life in which they have to cover their costs of living themselves, because they have no parents, American army stationing in Sokovia, twins getting radicalized, protesting against foreign influences in their country and joining Hydra, experimentation, if they were trained by Hydra to use their powers or not and how were they trained, Sokovia being shown to be normal country instead of breaking apart state which Americans see each time they think about it) - Falcon (Sam’s origin story, his mission in Afghanistan and stuff - I don’t know his origin story, so I dunno what to say here) - Captain America: The Winter Soldier - TV show about the consequences of the movie above. Possibly something akin to Agents of Shield. What happened to the agents, how world reacted to Natasha’s “fuck you”. - Ant-Man (introducing Hank Pym) - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Ultron is Hank Pym’s like in the comics, but in some versions of this Tony helped or provided tech so he still wpuld feel quilty afterwards, + no dying Pietro)

Phase 3 (everything gets complicated, but they prevail)

- Incredible Hulk 2 (what happened to Bruce and Hulk and how they dealt with the idea that Steve literally had his well-being in his ass by inviting Wanda and Pietro to the team, what is going on with Thaddeus Ross and Betty Ross, we meet Jennifer Walters) - Black Panther (different one than the one we got, introduces T'Challa and his family) - Spider-Man: Homecoming (could be earlier, just after Avengers, but *shrugs* this story is written in such a way it is better after Iron Man 3 and Age of Ultron) - Captain Marvel 2 (basically setting up why she didn’t participate in Civil War, my idea was to depower her, but not take her powers away, so she could have some more down to earth stories instead of stories set in space, maybe even explore her alcoholism that way) - Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch 2 (deradicalisation, becoming heroes) - Captain America: Civil War (Accords are better explained, Matt Murdock or Jennifer Walters show up to do exactly that, RAFT is explained as American prison not related to the UN, Steve this time has valid concerns about the Accords, but he still goes ape shit over Bucky, still lies to Tony about his family, because those traits were all set in his origin movie) - The Wasp (Hope’s origin story) - Hawkeye 3 or Hawkeye TV series - Black Widow 3 (something something about Ross hunting her, but Red Room was already taken down, so different story is here instead) - Ant-Man 2 (Wasp is here too, but this is Scott’s movie, previous Ant-Man and The Wasp) - Black Panther 2 (about Kilmonger and T'Challa’s scuffle for the throne) - Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (didn’t know where to put it, because it is mostly unrelated to any other movies with this story about Ego, but it develops Nebula more, so let’s be here) - Doctor Strange - Thor: Ragnarok (I am not opposed to Planet Hulk, but I am more inclined to not put Bruce into a movie which is supposed to be about Thor and Loki so… more time for Brunhilde) - The Winter Soldier (solo Winter Soldier movie) - Avengers Infinity War/Endgame (it makes no sense to make two movies if we can have one, the snap was used as a plot device more than actual defeat of the Avengers, so it can last less than 5 years and also no time travel which then you have to explain why TVA didn’t put everybody in jail for that, Tony doesn’t die and Carol and some other powerful people (LIKE HULK, Hulk is NOT less powerful than Thanos or fearful or something) take down Thanos instead and Tony finally retires and is left alone by everybody goddammit)

Phase 4 (new era, some heroes retire, others take their place, while different ones just get the grip of whom they truly were all along, and also we get a new ultimate bad guy and possibly set a stage for his defeat) <- this one not really well set up, because we don’t know most of the movies and TV shows which appear in this phase so dunno how to set them.

- Spider-Man: Far From Home - Photon (origin story of Monica Rambeau) - War Machine 2 - WandaVision (or Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch 3, adjusted, so it would not repeat some facts and would only remind about the most important stuff. Also, Pietro lives in this timeline so no Bohner guy lol, he is just insufferable brother-in-law to Vision, and weird uncle to kids) - The Falcon and The Winter Soldier (but with Steve who didn’t go back in time, because there was no going back in time in this timeline, he just finally is learning what accountability is and has to forfeit his shield, because it’s time to retire) - Falcon 2 - Winter Soldier 2 - The Wasp 2 - Loki TV series (Loki survives Thanos and is taken by the TVA, it basically doesn’t force the story to make him quickly develop feelings in the first episode and bypasses that issue, + more Loki Variants, all genderluid and presenting in various ways in the show) - Incredible Hulk 3 (Bruce and Hulk finally start communicating and Hulk becomes gradually smarter, and we meet Bruce’s another alter Grey Hulk and the circus with getting along starts all over again, because Grey Hulk hates Green Hulk xD, is setting up She-Hulk) - Shang-Chi and the Legend of Ten Rings - What If…? TV show - Ms Marvel TV show - Eternals (feels like should be in different phase) - Spider-Man: No Way Home - Doctor Strange: In the Multiverse of Madness - Thor: Love and Thunder (about Mighty Thor - Jane) - Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (about Shuri?) - The Marvels (Captain Marvel 3 basically) - Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quntamania (setting mutiple Kaangs I suppose) - Moonknight TV show - She-Hulk TV show - Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 - Blade (feels like should be in different phase) - Fantastic Four - Avengers (in which they fight Kaang?)

I was going with the idea that every superhero should get at least 3 movies ONLY about them. As of now, I managed to put 3 only for a few, and some were swapped for TV shows instead to fill the place and better show the character and what they’re up to, because TV shows have more hours than movies.

I know there are supposed to be TV shows for Armor Wars, Iron Heart and Secret Wars, but I dunno when, so no idea where to put them.

#mcu critical #mcu #mcu au #marvel cinematic universe

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flashfuture · 3 years ago

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hello do you mind explaining all the amazons?

All of them????

Okay uh I'll break down the ones i at least know about anyone who's deeper into the WonderFam please jump in I don't really interact with them that much.

But we've got

Diana Prince: Wonder Woman

Our Golden Age Princess of the Amazons. During the Golden and Silver ages she came from Paradise Island. She was truly animated clay here and several hundred years old by the time of WWII. During the Golden Age Diana married Steve Trevor and they had a daughter named Hippolyta "Lyta" Trevor. (My break down of Lyta would be an essay in itself and she's not really an Amazon so). Diana was a member of the JSA here.

During the Silver Age Diana also married Steve but no kids. She rescued Donna Troy from a fire and sent her to Paradise Island to be raised by Hippolyta making Donna and Diana sisters. This is the first timeline to mention Ares is her grandfather technically as he made Hippolyta. Diana lost her powers at some point. She got really really good at martial arts and then two years later got her powers back. She supposedly died during Infinite Crisis but then you know didn't. During Convergence she killed a vampire Joker. That was fun. In this timeline Diana was a founding member of the JLA.

Okay and post crisis New Earth Diana is the first one to say Diana is from Themyscira. It was still called Paradise Island sometimes. She was molded from clay. Diana in this time was not a founding member of the JLA but came to America after it was founded. (I think Infinite Crisis retconned her to be a founding member but idk) Diana has become a member of the Trinity alongside Batman (Bruce Wayne) and Superman (Clark Kent).

The Prime Earth Diana is the one from Flashpoint and onwards. She’s now the daughter of Zeus. In New52 if I recall right she was made much much younger like in her 20s and explored mankind in the modern era. The Doomsday clock thing reestablished her WWII origins. She was also said again to have been born during probably the Hellenistic Period (they said classical antiquity and that’s you know just a few thousand years) She just helped out in Death Metals and is now doing something with Infinite Frontier unclear I don’t really know what Prime Earth Diana has been up to lately.

So on Earth-Two, Earth-One, and New Earth Diana was the granddaughter of Ares and as such her life span was greatly extended. On Prime Earth as the direct daughter of Zeus she is immortal.

Donna Troy: Troia/Wonder Girl

Donna is a tricky one. She was introduced real quick to fill the girl role on the Teen Titans cause the boys were getting a little too gay. So started Silver Age Earth 1. Okay so basically her origin kept changing but the one that’s ‘canon’ is she was created to be a playmate for Diana but was abducted and kept being cursed to live tragic lives in New Cronus. Right around the Titans era okay Donna was rescued by Diana and brought back to Earth. Donna was the one to suggest the Teen Titans name. Donna is a member of the Fab Five along with Robin/Nightwing (Dick Grayson), Aqualad/Tempest (Garth of Shayaris), Kid Flash/Flash (Wally West), and Speedy/Arsenal (Roy Harper)

Donna married Terry Long when she was 19 and they had Robert, got divorced, they died in a car crash.

After Crisis on Infinite Earth Donna sorta realized all those ‘lives’ she led were other version of her which she was all of now. And also Donna was believed to be the Goddess of the Moon. She had to stop a sun-eater or whatever but failed (Hal came in with a clutch it it’s cool)

Donna also had to fix some shit during Infinite Crisis and ended up on a Universe Hopping road trip with Kyle Rayner and Jason Todd to find Ray Palmer for Final Crisis or something. She was killed by a Superman Android during the Teen Titans/Young Justice Crossover. (Edit thanks to that anon for this I legit couldn’t remember how she died)

And Prime Earth Donna was made to destroy Diana. She you know didn’t.

Look I’ll be real I know next to nothing about what the New52 tried to do with Donna. I just go by her original origins of being Diana’s sister.

On Earth-One and New Earth Donna’s life span was greatly extended and on Prime Earth she is stated to be Immortal as on Prime Earth Amazonian’s on Themyscira were granted immortality.

Nubia:

She is like Diana’s twin made from darker clay on Earth-One which is the silver age Earth. Nubia was actually slightly older than Diana but she was stolen as a baby by Ares who was going by Mars. Mars/Ares is Nubia’s grandfather and he wanted her help in taking down the Amazons. Nubia was raised on Floating Island (or slaughter island as Mars/Ares called it). Nubia fought Diana and hesitated to kill her leading to a draw. Nubia returned to Floating Island and at some point Supergirl had to save her life from poison of some sort.

On New Earth she went by Nu’Bia and was just a random Amazon, her job was to guard the Doom’s Doorway which is an entrance to the River Styx. She was not Diana’s sister.

On Prime Earth Nubia is the daughter of Hippolyta and the half-sister of Diana not her twin. Nubia went undercover pretending to work with Darkseid before Themyscira could recover and rally to fight. Nubia is currently the Queen of the Amazons. She was given the crown by her mother, Hippolyta during the Dark Metals event.

As with Donna on Earth-One and New Earth Nubia had a greatly extended lifespan and on Prime Earth Amazons are immortal.

Cassie Sandsmark: Wonder Girl

She is a New Earth entry who was for the new Young Justice team. She is the daughter of Zeus and Dr. Helena Sandsmark. Here as Ares is Cassie’s half-brother and technically the father of the Amazon’s this means Cassie is Diana’s great-aunt.

Cassie as a girl was able to request a Boon of Zeus who she didn’t know was her father at the time I believe and demanded real superpowers. Her mother Helena was able to turn off Cassie’s superpowers at the start as well. Cassie was trained by Artemis for awhile. Cassie became Wonder Girl in honor of Donna Troy who handed over her old suit. Cassie joined Young Justice as a teenager and would later be on the Teen Titans. Cassie has become a part of the Core Four for Young Justice alongside Robin/Red Robin (Tim Drake), Superboy (Kon-El/Conner Kent), and Impulse (Bart Allen).

Cassie’s best friends outside of the core four are Supergirl (Kara Zor-El) and Cissie King-Jones (Arrowette). Cassie and Conner Kent used to date as well and she was in love with him before he died during Infinite Crisis.

On Prime Earth Cassie is the daughter of Lennox and the granddaughter of Zeus. In this version Diana is Cassie’s aunt not the other way around. Cassie is still a member of the Young Justice team here. I don’t exactly remember what was happening during the New52. She was still Cassie unlike Kon and Bart who’d been replaced. But during Rebirth she went with the other members of Young Justice to rescue Conner Kent from Gemworld. She is currently still a member of the Titans.

On New Earth as the daughter of Zeus, Cassie is an immortal who would not age further once she reached her prime age (like 27 or so). On Prime Earth as the granddaughter of Zeus and the daughter of Lennox Cassie’s life is extremely extended.

Artemis Grace:

Artemis of Bana-Mighdall comes from a separate group of Amazons not on Themyscira or Paradise Island. Bana-Mighdall is a tribe of Amazons in Egypt who left Greece millennia ago.

On New Earth Artemis left her home at 14 and wound up working for Ra’s Al Ghul before returning to her home. There was a competition to see who would be the next Wonder Woman as Hippolyta foresaw Wonder Woman die and wished to spare her daughter the fate. Hippolyta ensured Artemis won the competition. Artemis was shunned by most of the world including the Justice League who refused to see her as the true Wonder Woman. Artemis was also thought to be too violent. Artemis would later die in a battle with a demon fulfilling the prophecy of Wonder Woman dying.

Artemis got out of hell eventually and was given the job of training Cassie Sandsmark by Diana and would later train Supergirl in combat as well.

On Prime Earth Artemis was raised being told she would be Queen of the Amazons. She was desperate to prove herself and wanted to be the Shim’Tar of the Bana Amazons. Artemis’ best friend and lover Akila was chosen instead. Without Akila by her side Artemis felt her home had nothing left to offer and set out on her own. She helped stop an invasion of Qurac into Bana as well.

Artemis then joined the Outlaws and worked with Red Hood (Jason Todd) and Bizarro, a botched clone of Superman.

On New Earth Artemis had a greatly extended life span. On Prime Earth he Amazons were gifted immortality but those who left for Bana-Mighdall lost this gift so it is most likely that Artemis has the same extended lifespan from New Earth.

Grace Choi:

Grace on New Earth comes from the same group as Artemis in Bana-Mighdall. Grace’s mother is an Amazon but her father was a Korean American. Grace grew up in America in the foster care system. She ran away at 9 but was kidnapped and sold into a child prostitution ring. She managed to escape at age 12 after her powers kicked in. Grace began fightining both for pay and for fun and worked as a bouncer at a meta club in Metropolis.

Grace worked for the Outsiders for awhile at the request of Roy Harper an ex-fling and good friend of hers. She helped rescue Lian from the same child protsition ring she was in as a child and generally had lots of adventures with the Outsiders.

Later it was revealed she had Bana roots but Grace refused to join them as they were currently you know sieging down the US. Batman was briefly worried about her loyalties but Grace proved she had no loyalty or ties to the Bana Amazons.

Grace has returned to the Prime Earth in Infinite Frontier and in Festival of Heroes and it seems like nothing has changed with her so far.

Grace has increased longevity of her life. She is listed as half-amazon because only her mother is a Bana Amazon but all Amazons only have their mother who are Amazons so I don’t really see why she isn’t a full Amazon. Anyways increased life span.

Jason:

He is Diana’s twin on Prime Earth. He was sent away cause you know no men on Themyscira. Jason was raised by Glaucus who was a member of the Argonauts crew and worked under the original Jason of Greek Myth. Who Jason was named for.

Jason was raised on the Aegean Coast by Glaucus and became a Fisherman. Jason was trained in his youth by his half-brother Hercules.

Jason worked briefly with Diana but wasn’t sure how to be a hero. There was a period where Darksied’s daughter tricked him but Diana talked him down. And Jason saved Diana’s life during the Dark Metals event.

He is currently in the Dark Mutliverse living with a boyfriend on the Aegean Coast.

As the son of Zeus, Jason is an immortal.

⚔️ Also for fun the Weapons:⚔️

Lasso of Truth: Wielded by Diana Prince

Originally imbued with it’s power by Aphrodite and Athena later after crisis forged by Hephaestus and powered by Hestia, this lasso forces the truth from whoever it has ensnared. It is indestructible.

Lasso of Persuasion: Wielded by Donna Troy

This Lasso forces someone to do what the wielder demands. This requires Donna’s or whoever wields the lasso to have a stronger will then who they’re using the lasso on. It is indestructible.

Lasso of Lightning: Wielded by Cassie Sandsmark

This lasso was created by Ares and gifted to his half-sister Cassie Sandsmark on New Earth. This lasso channels Zeus’ lightning and can make someone experience intense rage if they are caught by the lasso. The power of the lasso is directly correlated to Cassie’s rage levels.

Lasso of Submission: Wielded by Artemis Grace

Originally from Earth-3 this lasso has the ability to make someone obey any commands even those to inspire false love. After Superwoman (Lois Lane) of Earth-3 was killed Diana took the lasso and gifted it to Artemis.

Bow of Ra: Wielded by Artemis Grace

The Bow of Ra was a gift from the Egyptian sun god, Ra to the Bana-Midghall Amazons. This bow goes to the Shim’Tar and forges a special bond with them. Those who are not the Shim’Tar cannot wield the bow and further if you are not a candidate to be a Shim’Tar the bow will harm or even kill you. The bow requires intense willpower to use or it can drive the wielder mad. Akila was driven mad with the power of the bow and had to be killed by Diana and Artemis. It is said to have the power to destroy stars so this bow is incredibly dangerous and powerful if not wielded by the right person.

(Bonus Donna used to use a lasso that was golden but held no specific magical properties.)

#dc comics #ask #amazons #long post #sorry this took so long bestie #hope it's helpful #wonderfam

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vampiredecay · 3 years ago

Text

I Can Hear Your Heart Beat (Part 1)

A/N: heyo! this is the first part of a two parter, in celebration of hitting a little over 50 followers! this was a prompt/suggestion from @n3on-lights , thank you again so much!! originally this was going to be one part, but i realized i was at 3k words and only half way done with the story, lol. so part two will be out soon! in the mean time, hope you enjoy this first half!

rating: teen

wordcount: 3,139

warnings/notes: swearing, descriptions of being in pain, half vamp!michael, human!lost boys, the boys turn back to human, implied minor character death, goodbye max, poly!lost boys, lost boys x michael

summary: after convincing sam that he wasn't going to kill him, michael raced to the hotel to seek answers about what he was becoming. little does he know, sam has his own plans up his sleeve, leaving the boys human for the first time in years, and michael still stuck as half vampire.

“Sammy, please!” Michael cried out, hanging onto the phone cord for dear life, hoping to whatever god out there was merciful enough to put some sense into his little brother's head. Sam just stared, debating if he should really let his brother in or not. He was floating outside his bedroom window like a freak, and he tried to eat him! But when Sam looked at him, at his older brother, he could see that he looked terrified. He's hardly ever seen Michael genuinely afraid, and he looks so human, despite the obvious circumstances. So, Sam takes a deep breath and walks over to the window, unlocking it and opening it for Michael to crawl through.

Michael counts his blessings as he drops onto the floor, takes in huge amounts of air that he doesn't really need. Sam sinks down to the floor next to him, and Michael grabs hold of him, wrapping his arms around him like he'll start flying away again. Sam tries not to squirm too much.

"What's goin on, Mike?" Sam whispers, his voice refusing to go any higher. Michael is shaking slightly, breathing heavily, so Sam tries again, "What did those bikers do to you?"

That gets a reaction out of him, a low growling sound from deep in his throat. Michael can hear Sam's heartbeat quicken and he has to swallow thickly. "I don't know, Sam. But I'll sort it out, okay?"

"But what about mom-" Sam tries, but Michael cuts him off, frantic, "Just- just don't tell her anything, okay? You gotta trust me, Sammy."

Sam wants to argue, this was way bigger than getting a bad grade on a test, or getting into a fight in school. His gut reaction was to tell his mom, because he knew she would try and make it okay again. But he also trusted his brother. Plus, he had more experience with these guys, so Sam nodded, deciding Michael had it covered. “Okay. I trust you.”

Michael let out a sigh of relief, but it was short lived once they heard their moms car screeching to a halt outside of the house. The boys frantically got up, looking at each other with wide eyes. “I gotta go, Sam. Distract mom for me, yeah?” There wasn’t any time to debate, so Sam just nodded and sprinted down the stairs. He didn't know how Michael was going to sneak out, but at this rate, he didn’t want to know.

When he got down stairs, the blond teen could hear his mom calling his name, and when the front door opened, he could see his mom looking worried like crazy. “Oh, Sam!” she said once she saw him, she sounded exhausted. “You scared me half to death!”

Sam felt guilt start to stir in his chest, he didn’t mean to make his mom worry so much. And the fact that he had to lie now didn’t help matters at all. “I’m okay, mom. I was reading a horror comic and I thought I saw someone outside my window- but I just got carried away, that's all.”

Lucy stared at her son, trying to understand the excuse he was feeding her. She squinted her eyes at him. “You got carried away by a comic book?”

Sam tried not to flinch, he knew it sounded like bullshit, but it was the best he could come up with on the fly. “It was a scary comic mom. I’m sorry.”

The look on his mom's face made it clear she was frustrated. She couldn’t believe how her boys were acting, like she didn’t raise them better. “You know, I’ve just about had it with the both of you, you know that?” Sam nodded his head and looked down at his feet, and she almost forgave him then. But then her eyes landed on the kitchen, and her frustration flared up all over again. “What is this mess?”

Sam looked over to where his mom was talking about, and saw the spilt milk and open fridge door. God damnit, Mike. He tried telling her that it wasn’t his fault, but she wasn’t listening, not that he could blame her at this point. When he was done cleaning up the floor, Sam raced up to his room, pausing to see that Michael had long gone. Wasting no more time, he launched himself on his bed and called the Frog brothers again.

It took a few rings, but eventually, Edgar had answered the call. “What?” he asked, short and coarse. Sam rushed to answer, “Guys, it's me again.”

Edgar sighed from over the phone, “What, Sam? We told you to stake your brother, what more do you want?”

“Look guys, Michael and I talked, he’s going to try and talk to the vamps that got him, but there has to be something more that we can do!”

There was some vague conversation that Sam couldn’t hear, then Alan was speaking, “Do you know if he made his first kill? Can he still walk in sunlight?”

“No, he hasn’t killed anyone, and yes, he can still walk in sunlight.” Sam said, “That means he’s only half shit sucker, right?”

Alan grumbled into the phone, like he didn’t want to be entertaining this idea at all. “Yes, so technically, if you kill the head vampire, all half vampires would return to being human.” Sam was ready to celebrate, he was about to say something like “hell yeah!”, but then Alan asked something that made him cut the celebration short. “Does your brother know who the head vampire is?”

“Uh,” Sam mumbled, "No, I don't think so."

"We can't screw around anymore, Sam." Edgar said, taking the phone back. "Kill your brother, or we'll be forced to do it for you "

"Wait, no!" Sam shouted, desperate to think of something that would help. "We just gotta find the head vampire, right? We-" as he was talking, Sam suddenly thought of something. "Actually, I might know who the head vampire is."

"What?" Edgar asked, voice high and tight. "Well, this all started when my mom started working at Max's video store."

He could hear both the Frogs groaning. "Wait guys, hear me out! He doesn't come in till after dark, he has a dog that's always growling at people, and I read that vampires have hell hounds as companions!"

"Well duh, but-" Edgar started, but Sam cut him off. "If my mom is dating the head vampire, you guys can nail him and save Santa Carla!"

The Frogs were silent for a few seconds, so Sam tacked on "Truth, justice, and the American way triumphs, thanks to you two."

That seemed to convince them, because after a few more seconds, Edgar said "Alright, we'll check Max out. Tonight. Get ready, we'll come get you in ten minutes."

Sam froze, mouth open wide against the phone. "Tonight? Can't we wait until tomorrow?"

"This was your idea, Sam." Alan said, more rustling could be heard from the background. "If Max is clean, we're coming for your brother and his friends tomorrow. Be ready." Before Sam could say anything more, they hung up the phone.

When Michael got to the hotel, it was dark and quiet. There weren't as many candles lit, making shadows dance and flicker against the walls, and the only sounds Michael could hear were drops of water bouncing around the cave.

"David?" Michael called out, walking further into the hotel. The place was eerie now, without the boys there, dancing and laughing and joking around. "David? Anyone here?"

Where the hell were they? Michael was getting agitated, a hot irritation settling under his skin as he looked around the cave. If they weren't even here, he didn't know what he was going to do. Michael needed answers, he needed to know what the hell was happening to him.

"I'm not fucking around." The brunette said to the air. "I want answers, and I want them now!"

Silence. Michael snarled at nothing and turned around to stomp towards the exit, but then he heard an all too familiar voice echoing out the cave.

"I'm right here, Michael."

David was standing at the entrance, Dwayne, Paul and Marko lurking behind him. The platinum blond gave a wide smirk as he walked down into the cave, eyeing the angry halfling. “What’s going on?”

“What the hell did you do to me?” Michael demanded, walking right up to David and getting into his face. David cocked an eyebrow as the rest of the boys surrounded him, whispering and laughing. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Cut the bullshit! I’m hungry, I’m in pain, I was floating on the goddamn ceiling-”

“Woah,” Paul interrupted, sounding amazed, “You got there already? It took me a while-” Marko kicked Paul’s leg before he could continue, making the blond rocker yelp loudly. David cleared his throat and suddenly looked deadly serious. “You drank from the bottle, Michael. You’re one of us now.”

“But what the hell does that mean?” Michael was starting to feel drained, he was so tired of going around in circles, and it feels like he hasn’t gotten proper sleep in weeks. “What the fuck was in that bottle that makes me float off the ground and makes me want to eat my brother?”

The boys all looked at each other like they were having a silent conversation.

“Take it easy, man.” Dwayne said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. He was smiling like nothing was off or weird about this situation at all. “You’ll get the hang of it. Just go with the flow.”

Michael was about to ask what he’d “get the hang of”, but Marko spoke before he could. “It’s getting late, you should probably go home.” The way he spoke and the look he gave had an air of finality, like fighting would get him nowhere. This had been a huge waste of time.

“Fine.” Michael spit, shoving past David roughly as he walked towards the entrance. He would have to find answers some other way. As much as he hated it, he might have to resort to Sam’s weird friends. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but they seemed to be the only other ones who knew anything about-

“Wait!” Paul called out, making Michael stop in his tracks. He turned around and looked at Paul, who had a weird look on his face. His eyebrows were scrunched down and he held a hand to his middle. “Do you guys feel that?”

The others looked confused, but soon their faces contorted into concern and agitation. Marko’s hand shot to Paul's arm, gripping like his life depended on it, while Dwayne and David held onto each other, as if keeping each other from falling. Marko was panting, “What the fu-”

Suddenly, Markos words were cut off by a loud screeching sound. Michael nearly jumped out of his skin as the boys started shouting and screaming, falling to the ground hard. The halfling stared at them in shock.

“What happened?! What's wrong?!” Michael asked frantically, panicked, running back over and crouching over the pile of writhing bodies. No one could answer, the only sounds coming from them were grunts and whimpers of pain. Michael could only stand and watch, horrified that he had no idea what was going on.

After what felt like an eternity, the screaming stopped. The boys stopped convulsing on the ground, completely still and silent, like they passed out. The silence was deafening now. Michael slowly walked over to David, breathing heavily, anxious out of his mind. He placed a gentle hand to his cheek, finding him surprisingly warm. He checked his pulse, then, and found a shallow, but steady heart beat. Michael then checked the other boys and found the same warmth and beat. The teen sighed in relief, they were all alive, at least. They seemed to be out cold, though, and Michael knew that he needed to move them from the cold hard ground.

One by one, he moved each of the boys to a chair or couch, trying to make them as comfortable as possible. Michael looked around, but didn’t find any stashed food or water, so he decided to hurry out and get them something to eat when they woke up. He didn’t know if they would be hungry or not, but it would be worth the try.

Michael sped on his bike to the nearest convenience store and grabbed a basket, stuffing it with random chips and snacks. He also grabbed a few bottles of water and threw it in the basket. When he went up to the counter to pay, the cashier gave him an odd look, but he just smiled awkwardly. The total almost drained his wallet, which hurt, but there were more important things to worry about right now.

The trip back to the hotel was a bit of a pain in the ass, but he managed to get there in one piece. He parked his bike and hauled the food and water down into the cave, and when he was in the main lobby, he was startled to see that the boys were awake. They were all huddled around each other, holding and touching in whatever way they could. All of them wore similar shocked, concerned and disturbed expressions on their faces. It almost felt wrong to intrude on them, but he accidentally made a noise and alerted the boys to his presence.

“Michael?” David called out, but his voice was smaller, less sure. Michael immediately walked over to them, setting the bag down as he squatted next to the couch they were all piled in.

“Hey, are you guys okay? What the hell happened?” As he talked, Michael pulled out bottles of water and handed them out to each of the boys. They snatched the bottles out of his hands and opened them like they haven’t drank water in years, guzzling down the liquid and getting it all over themselves in the process.

“Woah, guys, slow down-” But they didn’t listen, not even if they started choking and coughing. When the waters were drained, Paul crawled over everyone to grab the bag full of snacks and dig through it.

“Michael.” David said, looking intensely at his face, studying every inch he could look at. He grabbed at Michaels arm and pulled him closer. “Do you feel any different? Did you change back?”

The brunette stared at him, bewildered. “Change? No, I feel the same as before.”

David's eyes widened, and Paul stopped tearing into a bag of potato chips, mouth gaping. “Wait, he’s still half? How’s that possible?”

Marko and Dwayne gave each other a disbelieving look, and Michael scrunched up his face in confusion. “Half what? What are you guys talking about?”

No one said anything for a long moment. David sighed and ran his hands through his spiked hair. “I guess we have no choice but to tell you.”

Michael watched as David sat up straighter, a pained look on his face, like his whole body ached. He looked uncomfortable as he said, “We were vampires, Michael. And you’re one, too. Half, anyway. You still haven’t made your first kill.”

So many thoughts and questions flooded Michaels mind at that moment. His first reaction was to call David crazy, but he remembered what it felt like to fly out his bedroom window, how painfully hungry he was and how loud he could hear Sam's heartbeat, even from the bathroom. His reflection in the mirror was fading and weak. Michael couldn’t fuckin believe this.

Michael stood up so fast he felt lightheaded. “So- you’re telling me,” He started, pacing in front of the couch. The rest of the boys were no longer paying attention, too busy devouring the snacks from the bag, but David was watching him walk back and forth. “That I’m a half vampire. An actual, honest to god vampire. That’s just fuckin great!” Michael shouted, and David winced at the sound.

“Wait.” The halfling stopped pacing and turned back to the platinum blond. “What do you mean you were a vampire?”

David blew air through his nose like an angry bull. He shifted around in his seat before answering, “We have a master. Or, I guess we did. If the vampire that turned you dies, you turn back into a human.”

“Which must be why Michael hasn’t turned back.” Dwayne chimed in suddenly, still chewing loudly on chips. Michael was lost at this point, which must have been clear on his face, cause Marko pitched in with, “You drank David’s blood from the bottle, not Max’s. David didn’t die, just turned back into a human. So, therefore, you can’t go back to being human.”

Michael didn’t know which fact he hated more, that his mom's dorky (now ex, he supposed) boyfriend was a head vampire, or that he drank actual blood. A lot of it, if he remembered properly. He groaned loudly and sank to the floor, head in his hands. “So you’re saying I'm stuck like this?”

“Well…” Paul started, but didn’t get to finish. David interrupted, irritation clear in his voice. “We don’t know. We don’t know jack shit.”

The tension was thick in the air. Michael had no idea what they were going to do now. Living in a sunken hotel may have been okay when they were vampires, but it’s not gonna fly being human. He knew he couldn’t just leave them here. Michael sighed and stood back up, walking over to the entrance. It was still dark out, but he figured it was going to be morning soon. He walked back down and stood in front of the boys.

“Look, we’ll figure out how to change me back,” David huffed at that, looking less than amused. Michael rolled his eyes. “But until then, you guys are basically homeless. Why don’t you come stay with me for a few days?”

The boys froze. They looked at each other, and they looked at Michael, wondering if this was some kind of joke. They had lived in that cave so long it felt like forever, they couldn’t imagine leaving what they considered their home.

“What about your mom? And your brother?” David asked, knowing that it couldn’t be that easy, right? Surely Michaels family would bitch about them being there. But Michael didn’t look bothered. “Sam can be an ass, but he’ll deal. And my mom wouldn’t kick you guys out.”

David was still hesitant. He still didn’t want to believe he was human again, after all these years. It hurts to even think about it. He felt a nudge against his shoulder, and when he looked over, he saw Marko, shrugging his shoulders.

“What do we have left to lose?”

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incorrectbandofbrothersquotes · 3 years ago

Text

You Better, You Better, You Bet - Chapter 3

The Wildest Times of the World

Ron Speirs x Juliet Fletcher

Summary: Juliet Fletcher reaches a breaking point in her life. When she is at her absolute lowest, she meets Ron Speirs, and something happens between them that neither of them will ever forget.

Word Count: 4.9k

Tag List: @vintagelavenderskies @how-are-those-nuts-sarge @iilovemusic12us @hesbuckcompton-baby @tvserie-s-world @whovian45810 If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Sorry this update took so long! But I hope y’all enjoy it :)

Warning(s): none :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

AO3 link

Chapter 3 let’s go!

Three chilly October days after Ron’s abrupt departure from London - which Juliet was still seething about - she arrived home from the store to a different person she expected to never hear from again. Lottie stood at the front door, muttering to herself about whether or not to knock. Juliet was especially surprised because it was raining, which would have normally kept the editor indoors if she could help it. Juliet watched a moment, not wanting to give away her presence immediately. It satisfied her to watch Lottie fret like this. After a few moments, Juliet caved and cleared her throat.

Lottie gasped as she whipped around, clutching at her chest. “Heaven's sake, Juliet! How long have you been standing there?”

“Not long,” Juliet said, intentionally vague. “Can I help you, Lottie?”

“Well…” Lottie hesitated, shifting her weight and toying with the fingertips of her gloves. “Shall we go in? I really need to speak to you.”

Juliet decided not to comment on Lottie’s self-invite into the house. She figured with no other job openings popping up, this could be her opportunity to try and gain back some favor at the London Pursuit. She couldn’t imagine that Lottie was here for a personal reason. That was not the sort of manager she was.

Once inside, Lottie followed Juliet to the kitchen - again, kindly not saying anything about the state of the house. Juliet set her grocery bags on the table before taking her coat off. Lottie shrugged hers off as well, removed her hat and gloves, and took a seat.

“Cuppa?” Juliet offered.

“Sure,” Lottie replied.

Juliet put the kettle on. Then she started unloading the bags.

“So, what did you want to speak to me about?” she asked, trying to sound as casual as she could.

“It’s the Albourne story,” Lottie said, voice tight, almost like she was spitting the words out. “All the other reporters are too busy to cover it. And if I have to go through the process of hiring someone new, we won’t get it in time.”

“I’ve already told you, I think it’s -”

“You needn’t remind me of your insolent remarks,” she snapped.

Juliet sighed, picked up a can of beans and placed it slowly in the cupboard, forming as polite a response as she could muster. But Lottie beat her to the next word.

“If you agree to cover this story, I’ll let you cover the war down there,” she said.

Juliet almost slammed the cupboard door shut in surprise. “What?”

“You can cover the war news from there,” Lottie repeated.

“Do you know something the rest of us don’t?” Juliet returned. “Because if you know the Germans are in Aldbourne and you haven’t said anything until now, you might be in trouble, Lottie.”

Lottie rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean, Juliet. The Americans are there, you could write about them.”

Juliet bit back the snappy retort she had about that, and dialed it down. “Fascinating as the Yanks are, I reckon they’re not doing much actual fighting in Aldbourne. Unless you mean brawling in pubs.”

The English had almost adjusted to the American presence by now. However, Juliet had slipped out of more than one pub after a fight broke out between some bright-eyed, blue-blooded American who spoke too boldly about their importance in the war effort and an Englishman who naturally took offense to the effort of “our own lads” being minimized. It escalated. Drinks were thrown, followed shortly by fists. Others jumped in to either assist or attempt to separate the combatting parties, only to get swept up in the action either way. It was entertaining, sure, but Juliet thought it made rather a mockery of the term “Allies.”

“They’re doing something there,” Lottie insisted. “And I give you full permission to try and find out what. As long as you cover the story about the girl as well.”

“Observing Americans isn’t really covering the war, and you know it, Lottie,” Juliet said.

“I’m not sending a woman to the front line, there would be a mob at the office door,” Lottie said. “I personally don’t care if you want to go and get yourself shot, but your blood cannot be on my hands.”

Juliet had to concede that point. Other papers had already suffered the ramifications of sending women reporters even within the vicinity of the front. There were boycotts led by counter-feminist groups and concerned mothers about the message it sent about women’s roles. It was one thing for women to work while men fought the war, but to put them in the line of fire? That was just indecent.

“Well, good to know my life isn’t as much of your concern as public opinion,” Juliet joked.

Lottie frowned. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Relax, Lottie, I’m taking the piss,” Juliet returned with a wave of her hand.

She paused, mulling over the offer Lottie was bringing. She wasn’t in much of a position to refuse work, but the idea of covering that gruesome story was almost too much to bear. Even if she was a bit interested in what the Americans were doing. Then, something else crossed her mind.

“Why do you want this covered so badly?” she asked.

Lottie’s face flushed and her mouth drew tight, which Juliet understood to mean the reason would not be to her liking. She braced herself.

“A family friend is with the Wiltshire police,” Lottie admitted. “He thinks it would look good for the department to solve a case like this and put the murderer away. And to have the press cover it, especially a London paper with circulation throughout the country.”

Juliet couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. “You’re killing me, Lottie.”

“This is the deal I’m offering,” Lottie sighed. “I know you’re opposed to it, but this is the compromise I’m willing to make.”

Juliet considered her options. She did need the money. But the subject matter and the reasoning were so against her ideals and ethics as a journalist. How could she live with herself if she broke them for money? But there was her mother to consider as well. Which brought up another objection.

“Even if I wanted to,” she said. “I can’t. It leaves no one here to look after Mum.”

“I thought you had a brother,” Lottie returned.

“He lives on Guernsey,” Juliet reminded her, minding her tone so she wouldn’t sound too bitter. “Otherwise, I’m certain he’d be here.”

Lottie shifted uncomfortably. “I apologize. I forgot.”

“S’fine,” Juliet replied.

“Can’t you hire someone to look after your mother?” Lottie asked.

Juliet only raised a disbelieving eyebrow at her - as if to say, “you’ve seen the house, you think we can afford help?” Lottie understood the implication.

“What if…” Lottie trailed off, considering. “What if I hired someone to look after her?”

Juliet blinked. “That’s...generous of you, Lottie, but I’d never be able to pay you back or -”

“Don’t worry about that,” Lottie said. “I want this story and - believe it or not - I want it done well. I know you’ll handle it as tastefully as possible and you could really show that -”

She was cut off by the kettle screeching its completion to boil, so Juliet went to take it off the burner and fetch some tea cups. She poured the tea and served it, and Lottie thanked her quietly, almost abashed by her admission to decency. But there was something more.

“Really show what?” Juliet pressed.

Lottie heaved a defeated sigh. Like admitting this was something that exasperated her. “That women can handle tough topics. It’s not covering the war, but it’s a step in that direction.”

Juliet couldn’t help but agree. If women could handle murder and the investigation surrounding it, surely women could be seen as sensible enough to tackle tragedy on a larger scale. They weren’t going to faint at the sight of blood or burst into tears over sentimentality. She couldn’t help herself. Juliet wanted to be part of that narrative.

“Lottie, I’m surprised at you,” she teased. “I didn’t take you for such a feminist.”

Lottie’s jaw dropped and she gaped at Juliet, totally affronted at the suggestion. “I am no such thing!”

Juliet shrugged, unfazed. “Yeah, I probably wouldn’t be either if I had your tits.”

Lottie could only sputter in response and Juliet snickered before sipping her tea.

“Juliet!” Lottie scolded.

“I’ll do it,” Juliet said suddenly.

Lottie closed her mouth, stunned. “You’ll - you’ll do the story?”

“Yes,” Juliet assured her, smiling. “You’ve given me a real reason to. And if there’s someone here to look after Mum and I can get a bit of war news as well, then what choice do I have but to say yes? You drive a hard bargain, Lottie.”

Lottie’s relief was palpable. “Thank you, Juliet. Really.”

“When do I go?” Juliet asked.

“There’s a train to Aldbourne tomorrow morning at nine,” Lottie said.

“I’ll be on it.”

***

Aldbourne was probably a village that once called itself sleepy. But now it was overrun by Americans - mostly paratroopers - which created an upheaval the likes of which many residents had never seen before. There was life in the town. The Women’s Land Army, or “land girls” as they were called, were taking full advantage of the flirting opportunities that arose with these American men, who lacked British decorum and were therefore prime targets for a fling. As Juliet walked from the station to her lodgings, with all the people mulling through the heart of the village, she found it almost hard to believe she was there to report on a murder.

Lodgings were difficult to come by with the Americans billeted in just about any space they could fit. Even horses were having to share their stables. But Lottie pulled some strings and got Juliet a room above the Blue Boar, a pub. She wasn’t sure how much sleep she’d really be able to get with the noise of a pub below her, but she didn’t dare complain. Not when she was one step closer to getting what she wanted.

The owner was a portly, older gentleman by the name of Jacob Powell. His kind, round face welcomed Juliet warmly, and she was grateful for the reception. She didn’t want to infringe too much on his hospitality, so she refused a cup of tea for the moment, insisting she needed to get unpacked and to the police station as soon as possible.

“Oh, yeah, that's a gruesome business about the little girl,” Jacob said. “Are you really going to write a story about it?”

“I’m no Agatha Christie or anything, but I’m going to do my best,” she returned, keeping her tone light. She wasn’t in the habit of discussing a story with just anyone.

He shook his head. “It’s just a right shame.”

“Concisely put, Mr. Powell,” she replied. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Right, sorry,” he said bashfully, and he reminded her that the offer for tea still stood if she changed her mind before closing the door behind him.

First, Juliet set down her suitcase with her clothes. Second, she heaved her typewriter onto the desk in the corner of the room. It was beside the one window that looked out onto the street. Juliet approved of the set up since she liked natural light while she wrote. She got her things exactly where she wanted them, but hadn’t bothered to remove her hat and coat since she was going right back out. Securing her notebook, pen, and room key, she left.

The police station was one of the dullest she’d ever seen. Given the nature of the town, it didn’t surprise her. Lottie’s contact was Otis Allen, a lieutenant in the Wiltshire Police, who was still in Aldbourne to lead the investigation. He was a tall, thin man, with kind blue eyes and straw-like blonde hair. Rather unimposing for being in law enforcement. But Juliet observed right away the misshapen mound where his right ear should have been. He mentioned it before she had the opportunity to ask.

“Sorry about the grisly ear,” he said. “My gift from the Germans last time they had a go at us.”

“A bit rude,” she teased. “Flowers would have suited just fine, I think.”

He chuckled at that as he gestured for her to take a seat across from him at his desk. With that, she noticed a gnarled hand - the few fingers he had left were permanently curled under themselves. He disguised it fairly well with a glove, but she saw anyway.

“Those Jerries really overdid it on the gifts,” she remarked. “I bet it wasn’t even your birthday.”

He fully laughed at that and she noticed his expression softened. When they’d met, he’d been a bit rigid, but his muscles relaxed now, put at ease by her gentle humor.

“Thanks for that,” he said.

She cocked her head to the side. “For what?”

“For the jokes,” he answered. “Ever since that war, all I get are pitying looks or fear. Thanks for treating it like it’s...normal.”

“I’ll leave pity to the nurses,” she said with a smile. “Now, what have you got so far on the case?”

He went over the basics with her. In September, a six-year-old girl, Peggy Lee, was drowned in the tub, allegedly by her host, Meredith Fisher. Peggy had been with the Fisher’s since January with no reported issues. When Peggy did not arrive for school the next day, her teacher phoned the Fisher’s home with no answer. They chalked it up to Peggy being ill or some other explainable matter, and moved on. When she was absent the following day as well, they called again, and Meredith told them that yes, Peggy was ill, and could not come to school for a few days. Ashley Fisher, Meredith’s husband, was in London on business at the time, and when he returned at the end of the week, found Peggy’s body and called the police. Meredith claimed initially there was an accident, but evidence from Peggy’s autopsy proved foul play was involved. Juliet took fervent notes as Otis explained it all, trying not to get disgusted by the whole thing.

“Where is Mrs. Fisher being held now?” Juliet asked. “Surely not here in Aldbourne.”

“‘Course not, she��s in Trowbridge,” Otis assured her. “Mr. Fisher is here though, if you’d like to speak to him.”

She blinked. “Is he an expert on the case or something?”

“Well, no -”

“Then what insight could he possibly give me?”

“He’s a witness,” he reminded her.

“Investigators and lawyers question witnesses,” she said. “I need facts from experts to put the story into context. His testimony would only sway readers' emotions, and that’s not what I’m after.”

He smiled. “Well. You’re not like any reporter I’ve ever met.”

“I should hope not,” she returned. “I’m not covering this for the sensation. Why do you think I haven’t asked you where the Lee family is?”

His eyebrows went up a ways on his forehead. “You’re not going to interview them at all?”

She shook her head. “Nope. An interview with them is even less useful than an interview with Mr. Fisher. They weren’t even witnesses.”

His eyes sparkled as he looked at her. “Right. Emotional appeal instead of factual.”

“Exactly,” she said. “And besides, I’m sure the last thing they need right now is some reporter sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I like you, Miss Fletcher,” he said simply. “You’ve got...surprising respect for this. And a good head on your shoulders.”

Juliet forced a smile to swallow her question if he’d be surprised by her if she were a man. She didn’t know where her control came from during interviews, but she was grateful for it.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” she said. “Lottie told me the goal was to get this story widely circulated, and I truly believe that’s possible with the facts alone. I don’t believe in patronizing the audience to get their attention.”

“You’ve got more faith in people than I do,” he scoffed. “But I like your style. I look forward to working with you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” she returned. She did like Otis, even if he had briefly underestimated her. “Tomorrow I’ll be able to meet with the doctor who conducted the autopsy, yes?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “The prosecution is having a psychiatrist evaluate Mrs. Fisher this week, so I’ll keep you updated on that as well.”

“I’d love an interview with the prosecutor too, if that’s possible,” she said.

“I’ll speak to him about it,” he told her. “Have a good evening, Miss Fletcher.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

They shook hands before she parted. She made her way back to the Blue Boar, dodging GIs all along the way. They were winding down for the day, it seemed, going for runs, dates, or drinks, depending on their mood. She got a whistle or two, which she ignored, mentally going over her notes. She was also relieved she wasn’t going to have to fight Otis on how to do the story. She really was getting free reign on how to put this all together, and she was excited by the opportunities that meant for her.

Her excitement was sucked away when she reached the Blue Boar and found her things had been hurled onto the street. Her mouth fell open. She had only just arrived, what on earth could she have done?

She marched toward the door, straightening up to her full height, prepared to demand an answer from Jacob. But she didn’t have to go far, he met her at the doorway, blocking her entrance with a glower on his face that could have melted snow.

“What’s the meaning of this?!” she demanded.

“I don’t want any of your sort staying in my establishment!” he shot back. “Did you think you could fool me?! I read the papers!”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” she returned. “What papers?!”

He pulled a rolled up newspaper out of his back pocket and threw it at her. She caught it and opened it with a snap. She recognized it as a society gossip periodical that she usually tried to avoid. On the side of the page, she read the headline “ARTHUR BURNS’ EX-FIANCE TURNS LADY OF THE EVENING?” with a photo of her leaving the hotel she’d met Ron in, looking furious as she absolutely was that day. Her heart dropped as she read the copy beneath.

Desperate times must truly call for desperate measures, it began. Juliet Fletcher, 31, who just earlier this year was scorned by Arthur Burns when he terminated their engagement, was spotted leaving a hotel after a rendezvous with a mysterious American. The receptionist, who wished to remain anonymous, said Fletcher returned the following day, found the Yank gone, and stormed out, seething.

‘It was clearly a dispute over money,’ the receptionist said. ‘They left the hotel together early in the morning, and she came back in the evening after he’d checked out. She was so sneaky about what she needed, I knew it couldn’t be anything respectable. And then to be as furious as she was about his leaving, it was obviously about an unpaid sum.’

Could it be that Miss Fletcher has fallen into disgrace after Mr. Burns left her? Could it be that she needed additional income after becoming accustomed to the Burns lifestyle? What else could possibly drive her to stoop to such lows?

The Burns family refused to comment for this story, and Miss Fletcher herself appears to be out of town at the moment. And who can blame her?

“Oh, this is ridiculous!” she cried. “It isn’t true!”

“Pictures don’t lie, missy,” Jacob practically spat. “Now clear off from my property or I’ll have the police on you!”

A small crowd had gathered to watch the confrontation unfold. Doubtless, the raised voices had drawn attention to them, but Juliet could not bring herself to care. The injustice of it made her blood boil. She squared her shoulders and planted her feet.

“It’s not true, you idiot!” she shouted. “This paper is known for misrepresenting the people they write about!”

“I said - CLEAR OFF, YOU!” he roared.

She scowled at him as fiercely as she could manage, but he slammed the door in her face. Head held high, she went and snatched her things off the ground, slinging them onto her shoulders before facing him again.

“THIS ISN’T OVER!” she hollered back. When she turned on her heel and saw the Aldbourne residents watching with avid interest, she snapped at them too. “Should we have sold tickets?! Mind your business, people!”

Properly scolded, they scattered like roaches. Juliet heaved a sigh, wondering where to point her feet. Fuming, she considered parking herself outside the door and shouting until Jacob had no choice but to hear her out, but she couldn’t risk arrest. Not when she was relying on the police as sources for her story.

Her thoughts were completely interrupted when a platoon of paratroopers jogged across the square from where she stood. Leading them was the man Juliet held solely responsible for all her troubles as of late - Ron Speirs. She told herself not to get distracted by the sweat on his brow or the way his backside looked in the little shorts he had on, and focus on what mattered. He was getting away with what had happened - or rather not happened - while she was publicly shamed. Abandoning her bags, she hurtled after the platoon, catching up with surprising speed in her heels.

“HEY!” she bellowed.

The whole platoon stuttered in their cadence, and the few in the back turned their heads at the sound of her voice. Ron either didn’t hear her, or ignored her, and she wasn’t sure which was more infuriating. She gained on them. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to get louder, absolutely refusing to be ignored.

“RONALD SPEIRS!” she yelled.

He called his men to a halt, stopping alongside them and turning to face her. He blinked in surprise at the sight of her - he had evidently not expected her here - but he didn’t say anything right away. She caught her breath as she marched up to him. This time, she was ready, wallet in her coat pocket. She whipped it out and brandished it like a sword.

“No one pays me a kindness and gets away with it!” she shouted, popping the wallet open and fishing out the bills she owed him. “That,” she slapped the first few onto his chest, and he caught them before they fluttered to the ground. “Is for my half of the hotel room!” She did not acknowledge the snickers that went through the platoon, and then forced a second handful of money into his hand. “And that is for the potatoes and cab fare!”

He looked levelly at her. “I really didn’t expect to be -”

“I don’t care what you expected!” she continued. “You left me to look like a prize idiot!”

He glanced at his platoon, who were murmuring to each other as speculation began about how their lieutenant knew this strange woman.

“I’d rather have this conversation in private if it’s all the same to you,” he said.

“It’s not all the same to me, you punk!” She accentuated this with a shove to his arm. He didn’t move, but it made her feel better. “You humiliated me in front of the stupid hotel girl, which has now resulted in me losing my lodgings, so yeah, I’m going to stand here and embarrass you in front of your little mates!”

“Juliet -”

“How dare you leave before I could pay you back!” she went on fiercely. “You said you’d be there! You lied right to my face! Like a - a - a liar!”

“Eloquently said,” he returned.

“I don’t need your wise-ass remarks!”

“Settle down.”

“I WILL NOT SETTLE DOWN!”

Her face was red with how much yelling she’d been doing, so she took a deep breath to collect herself. She felt a tingle in her throat, so she tried to clear it.

“I’m going to, though,” she said. “Not because you told me to, but because my voice is getting hoarse.”

He stared at her for a beat. “Okay. Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

“The receptionist at the hotel in London spoke to a gossip columnist about seeing us together,” she said. “Now, the owner of the Blue Boar says he won’t have one of ‘my sort’ in his rooms.”

“I see,” he said with a nod. “I’ll sort it out.”

“No, I can’t owe you another favor,” she returned.

“So you just came over here to yell at me?” he asked, to clarify.

“And pay you back!” she insisted. “Now that’s been accomplished, we can part ways and I’ll never speak to you again. Starting now.”

“Juliet -”

“Starting now!”

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed away. He watched her go for a moment, enjoying the way her skirt swished around her legs, the shape of which he enjoyed more than he cared to admit. Shaking his head to clear it, he faced his men again. He noticed the stifled laughter behind their hands and smirks on their faces.

“Something funny?” he snapped with a scowl.

They straightened up and muttered quick “no, sir”s under his glare.

“Good, we’ve got a run to finish,” he said.

They continued down the road. But Ron knew just what he was going to do afterward.

***

Night fell over Aldbourne like a frigid shadow. Juliet, with aching feet and chattering teeth, took shelter in a phone booth across from the Blue Boar, having scoured the village for anywhere else to stay to no avail. And she was not a moment too soon in closing the booth door. Just seconds after she did, a soft rain began to patter against it.

She needed to call Lottie and see what her options were. She couldn’t stay in Aldbourne without a room, but that put everything on hold. She pushed the coins into the slot and called Lottie at home, adding guilt to her weariness.

“Hello?” came Lottie’s voice after just two rings, which relieved Juliet a little since it meant she was not in bed already.

“Lottie, it’s Juliet,” Juliet said. “Look, something’s happened and your friend Jacob’s given me the boot.”

“What?” Lottie questioned. “Why?”

“Some stupid fucking article accusing me of being a prostitute,” Juliet snapped.

“There’s no need for that kind of language,” Lottie replied coolly.

Juliet hesitated a beat. “Okay, given the nature of what I said, I’m not sure if you’re referring to ‘fuck’ or ‘prostitute.’”

“Both,” Lottie said, and before Juliet could protest, she went on. “Tell me what you’re talking about.”

Juliet explained everything - that her arrival went fine, but at some point during her interview with Otis, Jacob had read that article about the hotel nonsense, and had refused to let her back inside.

“Now I’m stuck in a phone booth,” she finished.

A beat passed and Juliet feared for a fleeting second that her time had run out. She dug in her pocket for more coins, but Lottie spoke again.

“So...what were you doing in a hotel room with an American?” she asked.

“That’s your takeaway from everything I just said?!” Juliet cried, incredulous. “Lottie, I’m exhausted and freezing, I need a place to stay or a ticket home!”

“Was it something indecent?” Lottie pressed.

“No!” Juliet returned. “Look, I got drunk, I almost got hurt, and he just looked after me for the night, but nothing happened, I swear. Believe me, he’s the last man on Earth I’d ever want to shag, even if he is ridiculously good loo-”

She stopped suddenly and whipped around when she heard a knock on the door. There he stood. Ronald Speirs, looking expectantly at her.

“Son of a BITCH!” she swore, stamping her foot.

“I beg your pardon!” Lottie gasped.

��Must go, Lottie, my mystery American has returned,” Juliet said through clenched teeth. “Aldbourne’s about to have another murder on its hands.”

She hung up harshly, slamming the phone down before Lottie could protest. Then she wrenched the door and faced him, eyes blazing. She opened her mouth, preparing to dismiss him completely, but he beat her to the punch.

“Jacob changed his mind,” he said. “You can have your room back.”

She deflated and blinked at him in surprise. “I said I didn’t want -”

“Do you want a bed for the night or not?” he cut across her.

Her drained muscles screamed at her to agree, but her pride was stronger. She started to refuse him again.

“Buy me a drink, and we’ll call it even,” he said, as if reading her mind.

“That’s not really the same,” she argued.

“I didn’t go out of my way,” he told her. “The Blue Boar is where the officers drink. It came up, I explained, simple as that.”

“Okay, one drink.” She held his gaze. “And then we’ll never speak again.”

He looked into her eyes, so long and so intensely, in any other context she would have thought he might kiss her. But he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t do anything. He just shrugged, turned, and walked back toward the pub. She didn’t totally blame him since the rain was beginning to come down harder. With a defeated sigh, she scrambled to collect her things and followed him.

#band of brothers #ron speirs #juliet fletcher #ron speirs x ofc #hbo war #you better you better you bet series #hbo war fic #band of brothers fic

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pl-panda · 4 years ago

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To marry a Vigilante: Part 1

MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next

Disclaimer: Masterlist

------

When they finally pulled apart, Marinette needed a moment for her brain to restart. She was sure she would melt right then and there. At the same time, she wanted to jump and scream from sheer ecstasy. It was all she ever wanted and now she had it.

Damian stared at her empty expression.

“I think you broke her.” Plagg suddenly zoomed out of her pocket, followed by Tikki who tried (and failed) to catch him.

This was enough for Mari to finally start thinking coherently. “Um… Yeah… I… Maybe…” Or mostly coherently at least.

“Habibti. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.” Damian guided her. Slowly, Mari returned to her senses.

“Thank you… I think I might have kinda lost my breath there.” She gave him an apologetic smile.

“Nothing happened. Now I think I need to leave or my brothers will get some stupid idea and I will have to practice my skill with a sword.” Damian deadpanned.

“Since I know I can’t stop you, please at least don’t kill them until I get to know them better?”

“I can try, but no promises.” He turned to leave, but she grabbed his hand.

“Oh! Wait!” She fumbled through her pocket for a moment before pulling out a small box. Plagg immediately was pulled inside it (much to Tikki’s amusement). “Damian Wayne. As Guardian of the Miraculous, I give you the miraculous of the Black Cat, which gives you the power of destruction. I trust you to protect it and use it to help others.”

Damian was stunned only for a short moment and definitely didn’t move his mouth like a fish. Definitely. “I accept that honor and thank you for your trust.”

“There is no one I would trust more than you with this. If not for your and your family’s help, I would’ve never caught Hawkmoth or the Cat.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re brilliant and it was only a matter of time.”

“Time I might’ve not had. Chat was working with Hawkmoth. Who knows when I would’ve fallen into a trap…”

“It’s all over now, Habibti.” He grabbed her hand. “Everything is going to be better now.” When she smiled he let go and opened the box. Plagg appeared in a flash.

“For the record, I hate these boxes.”

“Stop complaining. If you stayed there it wouldn’t have been so bad.” Tikki scolded him.

Marinette giggled at the interaction of the two little gods. Damian just shook his head and donned the ring.

“Can I see how you’ll look?” She asked before her smile took a more grin-like look. “I want to see if you’ll have a cute cat-ears.”

“Maybe when you are in Gotham.” He scoffed. “Thank you, angel. It’s the best Christmas gift you could’ve given me. Your trust means more than gold to me.”

“But Christmas is still a long way away…” Mari tried to dismiss him, but seeing his expression she doubled back. He looked almost scared. Almost, since Damian Wayne did not get scared.

“Angel… Christmas Eve is tomorrow. That’s why your class is leaving on Monday. You are all going to be attending the Wayne New Year Gala next Friday.”

“But… But… Wouldn’t there be decorations in stores? And Santa Clauses on the street? Or at least…”

“There were. Mostly Miraculous themed though. I can’t believe you didn’t notice.” He said with a bit too much amusement slipping into his voice.

“Kwami! Kwami! Kwami!” She started to pace. “I completely forgot! How could I have forgotten Christmas!?” She was close to collapsing. Damian was quickly by her, holding her wrists together to not accidentally get slapped by her flailing arms.

“Habibti. There is nothing to worry about. You already gave everyone the greatest gift possible by ridding them of that terrorist. I admit I regret that we will not be able to spend our first Christmas together as a family, but the last several months were the best of my life already. You don’t need to give me anything more.”

“But… But…” She was at the edge of crying.

“Marinette. Don’t worry. I have an idea.” Tikki reassured her Chosen. “Go tell your parents to pack everything.”

“But… Maman and I must be here at six on Monday” She tried to argue.

“You will be. Kaalki owes me a favor.” The kwami dismissed her.

“But… But I can’t just abuse the miraculous.”

“Marinette. All Kwami love you. They would be happy to help you if the need arose.” Tikki nuzzled into her cheek. Mari finally relented.

“Fine… But I’m buying her three boxes of sugar cubes,” she said with conviction.

The two kwami giggled and Damian cracked a smile.

--------------------

Adrien cursed loudly. He barely managed to escape those damn heroes. And to think that his Lady marries some American ragtag instead of him? That’s how she repaid him for his loyalty? For all of his sacrifices? That was just a travesty.

But it didn’t matter in the end. She didn’t deserve to be Ladybug anyway and now finally, the world could be free from her. Of course, heroes could try to save her. They could even succeed. But he made a point. He severed all the ties with that cursed bitch. Now he could focus on his true soulmate: Marinette. She was the real Ladybug. She was loyal, honest, brave, kind, selfless, beautiful. They’re made for each other. In a perfect world, they would be with one another if he was not blinded by the imposter. She had a crush on him in the past, but he ruined it. Now he had to work trice as hard to get her to join him.

“Don’t worry mother. We will have our family again.” He said, looking at the stasis chamber.

----------------------

When Marinette and her parents exited the portal in Wayne Manor, they were greeted by Alfred the Butler and Alfred the Cat.

“Ah. Young Madame Marinette, Madame Cheng, Master Dupain. It is my pleasure to welcome you. I was told you would be arriving through… extraordinary means.” He greeted them.

“We’re sorry for all the trouble we’re causing you on such short notice.” Marinette immediately started to apologize.

“You are no trouble at all. Definitely not compared to the usual Christmas mess.” He dismissed her apology. She wanted to protest, but the cat jumped onto her and she instinctively grabbed him and hugged.

“I see Alfred the Cat likes you, Angel.” Damian’s voice came from behind. Immediately, Marinette whirled around, only to stare into a pair of green eyes.

“Damian!” She wanted to hug him, but the cat was a bit in the way. Instead, she just leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. They both smiled.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Sabine spoke. “Is Cassandra home? I would like to meet my niece. We spoke several times over the phone, but meeting in person is…”

“She is in the gym, practicing ballet,” Alfred informed her.

“Thank you. Tom, be a kind husband, and carry my things to our room. And don’t forget the bag.” She patted Tom’s cheek before leaving.

“Come, Habibti. I will show you the garden.” Damian grabbed her waiting hand.

“Take my bags too, dad? Thanks!” Mari shouted without looking back before she, Damian, and the cat left the room, leaving Tom with half the house packed into bags.

“Why do women carry so much with them…?” He sighed.

“It’s a mystery of the world that we, mere mortals, will never know, Sir,” Alfred answered in his usual tone.

---------

“Cassandra?” Sabine asked, leaning through the doors leading to the gym. The mats that would usually cover the ground were all rolled in the corner to make space. A large mirror covered the entire right wall. A lone girl in a white ballet outfit danced to Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker ballet music.

The girl did not answer or break her dance, but Sabine noted that her gaze shifted toward doors in the mirror. It was just a short moment to assess the threat without breaking concentration on whatever one did. It was the same as she often did. It was an instinct learned through years of training. David Cain better stayed in that cell or else.

When the song ended, Cass turned the music off and walked closer to Sabine until they were standing about a foot apart.

“You’re a great dancer.” The woman started. Cass only nodded in response.

“Practice.” She said. There was more awkward silence where the two measured each other.

“I’m sorry sweetie. For what happened to you. If I knew, I would’ve searched for you and gave you a proper home.” A tear appeared in Sabine’s eye. When they spoke through video, it was mostly about meaningless things to get used to one another or neutral subjects. Now, in person, Sabine wanted to get all regret off her heart.

“No… fault.” The girl answered. “All… good.”

“Can I… Hug you?” Sabine asked, fully aware that not everyone liked physical contact.

“Hug?” Cass asked. To this day, only Dick or Tim wanted to give her hugs and it was rare. “Okay?” She more asked than agreed, but her aunt responded by slowly pulling the girl to her heart.

“I’m still sorry. If I see my sister, she is gonna get her ear screamed off.” She assured the girl. “How could she… You’re such a sweet girl.”

Cassandra Cain smiled. She liked being hugged by that woman. And the image of her mother cowering before her older sister was too funny.

-------------

“Damian!” Marinette shouted as he dragged her through the garden. It was much colder in Gotham than in Paris. And it was still only late morning here while she left Paris in the afternoon. She was a bit tired.

“I want to show you something, Angel. Come on! Before my brothers find us and drag me into their ‘Christmas spirit’ stuff.” He groaned at the thought.

“Christmas is important!” She argued.

“Definitely when you are here.” He answered easily. It was lucky he was too focused on the road to look back because she blushed… hard.

They walked through the forest that was on the manor grounds until they entered a small clearing. In the center, there was a stone garden gazebo with the fire burning in the center. It definitely gave heat, but little smoke dispersed in the air before it could alert anyone to that location. There were several stone benches inside.

“I found it during one of my… escape attempts when I was younger.” He admitted. “Now I use it as a retreat from my brothers. The herb mixture I use as fuel gives no smoke.”

“Why bring me here?” She asked.

“I just thought that we should enjoy the peace before the hurricane that my brothers become washes over us.”

Mari giggled. “I met your brothers.”

“No. You saw them. I had to live with them for the last five years. They are crazy.”

“It can’t be that bad… right?”

“Last year Todd set the Christmas Tree on fire.” He deadpanned.

“Okay, that might’ve been an accident.” She tried to argue.

“Four years ago Grayson decided to show his acrobatic skill to put a star on the top of the tree. He ended up crashing it on us and the dinner table.”

“It… happens?” She said, but with less conviction.

“Two years ago, Drake decided to surprise Brown and bought her a life-sized statue of them made out of chocolate.”

“It doesn’t sound that bad…”

“Except that insomniac idiot accidentally ordered it made out of chocolate ice cream!”

“Oh…” Marinette didn’t have an answer for that.

“So as I said, they can be a bit much.”

“Don’t worry. I still think it could be worse. My Nona once gave my parents a motorbike with two sidecars as a Christmas gift.”

“Tt. That sounds normal.”

“Except one of them was made as a crib for me. I was one at the time.”

Damian cracked a smile.

“I still think you will thank me for showing you this place.”

“May I remind you that you will all be stuck with my mom for the better part of the exchange. She will keep them in check.” Mari huffed.

“I don’t doubt that.” He pulled his phone and showed her a photo of Sabine standing over Talia. The next one was of unconscious Talia with Tom standing over her with the broken chair.

Mari giggled and she would later swear that Damian laughed a bit. Not that anyone saw them. Well, no human. Alfred the Cat could hardly testify.

------

Masterlist // Next

#arranged marriage AU #Damian Wayne #Damian al Ghul #marinette x damian #maridami #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #guardian!marinette #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #maribat au #miraculous lb #tiger miraculous #miraculous sabine

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years ago

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Scarlet Moon

Genre: Scarlet Heart Ryeo!AU, Time Travel!AU, Alternate History, Royalty!AU

Pairing: OC x EXO OT9

Summary: This isn’t Gwen’s time. She was from the modern era, with technology and electricity. But during a solar eclipse, she’s transported back into a previous life in a time and place she does not know. Now, as the foreign daughter of a merchant living in a prince’s household, she must tread carefully, watch her back, and guard her heart. But with the princes locked in a battle over the throne, the chances of her making it out alive might disappear.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3

********

The paper sliced across the skin before any action could be taken to avoid it. A high pitched hiss followed by a short whine. The flap of skin that had been separated was being dyed red.

Gwen stuck her index finger in her mouth to sooth the stinging. It helped a little bit. Still sucking on the appendage, Gwen stumbled over to the supply closet and opened the thin metal doors with the other hand. She kept this feat up as she opened the first aid kit and pushed around the different types of bandages, trying to decide which one to use. The cut was right on the tip, right where you never want it to be. It was hard to get a band aid on that kind of cut. Eventually, she found a smaller version of a standard design and ripped the paper covering opening. She wrapped the band aid around her index finger before heading for her desk. It was back to the files that had injured her in the first place.

The pile was tall; by her standards, at least. Gwen had been dealing with it for the past hour. The dates on the files needed sorting, separating the ones could be sent to long-term storage. She almost gave out another whine, but she didn’t want the others to hear and start the relentless teasing. Her coworkers were quick and very witty.

It was a friendly floor. Everyone joked and played around without the fear of feelings being hurt. If Gwen didn’t have to do the actual work that came with the office space, she wouldn’t mind staying here forever. But dealing with these files and demanding customers and meeting quotas was not what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. Not that Gwen knew exactly what it was that she did want to do. She’d tried a lot of things over the last few years in her slow going college years. Marketing, history, education - hell, she even took several makeup courses and skincare lessons that focused on natural resources. None of it stuck, none of it held her interest, though the information could be recalled if needed.

“You alright there, Gwen?”

Drudging up from the bowels of her thoughts, Gwen looked up at Kimberly, who had stopped at her desk on the way back from the printer.

“Yeah,” Gwen nodded with a sigh. “Just… ready for the week to be over.”

“Ain’t that the consensus,” Kimberly laughed.

“How are the dogs?” Gwen was seizing the opportunity to distract herself from work. Kimberly owned two dogs with opposite personalities. One was the well-mannered older brother, the other was the skittish, hyper younger brother. She loved to talk about them and there was never a shortage of entertaining stories.

Kimberly rolled her eyes. “Kurt is back to back to demanding his breakfast at five a.m. Oh, but Kent now does this thing where he walks backwards. Whenever he starts doing that, we’ll beep at him. You know, like the garbage trucks? Then he gets all shy and hides his head.”

Gwen couldn’t stop giggling at the thought. “Oh, the poor thing!”

“You’ll have to see it next time you come over.”

“I can’t wait.”

As Kimberly walked away, Gwen sighed. She didn’t get out too much and the humor that most of her socializing outside of work was with one of her coworkers wasn’t lost on her. Just another dart to throw at the board that was Gwen Sinclair.

It wasn’t like her life was a complete disaster. Really, it could have been worse. She could imagine a thousand different scenarios that she could be living right now that were worse off then her current situation. Truthfully, if glanced at from the outside, Gwen’s life was simply... mediocre. She was blessed with tolerable roommates, an okay job that provided a nice paycheck for a twenty-three-year-old who had yet to finish college. But… the loneliness was killing her and overall, she was craving for something more.

She was exhausted from obligation and responsibility. She wished to go back to the days where she read about adventure and intrigue and imagined some day living that out herself. After having those words in her hands, she felt empty in her reality. Somehow, each day felt even more draining.

With the end of another workday, Gwen packed up the files that still needed to be sorted, locked up her cabinets and tugged on her coat as she waved goodbye to Kimberly and the others. A few other coworkers were chatting excitedly about the solar eclipse happening in a few minutes. Gwen, however, was annoyed. Annoyed at the fact that all anyone - online or in person - could talk about was the solar eclipse, as if it was the only one that had ever been seen in this generation. When one person mentioned the eclipse, it was fine. When it was every post and every comment and every conversation, it felt a little ridiculous. Gwen couldn’t care less about the event. Getting home was her current priority. But escaping wasn’t that easy.

For the millionth time, Gwen rolled her eyes as she scrolled through the newsfeed, waiting for her car to warm up in the parking garage. The weather was cold and dreary, slowing down her progress on getting home. Puffs of steam escaped her lips in the below freezing temperature. Other employees hurried past the back of her car to get to their own tiny sanctuaries. An alert for a new email popped up at the top of the phone screen. From the quick scan of the notification, she saw that it was from her eastern history professor. He wanted to go over the latest paper from class. Oh, no. That was never a good sign.

Gwen huffed, threw her car into reverse, and pulled out of the parking space. First the papercut, now this.

Since all her classes were online, Gwen had the minor luxury to not be forced to talk to her professor face to face, which surely would have been humiliating. But it couldn’t be avoided completely. She’d email him back once she arrived home. Or maybe she’d put it off until tomorrow. Dealing with this was the last thing she wanted to do. Stress was already causing her skin to revert back to puberty, she didn’t need this as well.

Her phone rang and she struggled to answer it while carefully winding down the levels of the garage. It was Jaynie, the favorite of the roommates.

“Hey, Janie, what’s up?”

“Oh, nothing, I was just wondering if you were coming straight home today.”

Gwen smirked, knowing exactly where this was going.

Over the past several months, a bit of an obsession had developed with Korean dramas. The shows the two of them consumed were different from the same old, boring American television and there were years worth of stories to choose from. Currently, they were in the middle of another romantic comedy. While Gwen loved the storyline and was in a constant state of swoon, as soon as the credits started rolling, she was reminded how pathetically uninteresting her life was. But those sixty plus minutes of pure escapism made it all worth the crash that came afterwards.

Gwen tried to wait patiently in the line to leave the parking garage, but her frustration was getting the better of her. It was stop and go, stop and go, stop and go.

“I’m planning on it. That is, if people decide any day now to not drive idiotically.”

“Ugh, I had the same problem on my way home.”

Curious. Both of them worked in the downtown area. “How did you get home so fast?” Gwen asked.

“I got off a little early today.”

“Lucky.” Her accounting job often led to flexible hours. Gwen was jealous of that level of freedom.

The road was slick from the freezing rain. Weather like this brought out all the stupid drivers as if this wasn’t a yearly occurrence. She was careful to look both ways before exiting the garage and inching into the street. What she didn’t account for was the other emptying lot across the street. A large black SUV pulled out right at the same time, but went too fast, hitting the water that was slowly turning to ice on the asphalt.

With no time to react, the SUV slammed into the side of Gwen’s compact car. Glass from the driver’s side window shattered and sprayed her face. Her phone flew out of her hand. The crunch of metal hit her ears before she could fully process what had happened. With the force of the collision, her forehead slammed against the steering wheel before the airbag deployed. The sound of screams echoed around her, but the words were unintelligible. Slumped over in her seat, a shadow creeped over the scene. Through the slits of her barely open eyes, Gwen watched as the sun disappeared behind the moon. Then all went black.

********

The water was what brought her back. It filled her lungs and surrounded her on all sides. She flailed her limbs, desperate for traction that couldn’t be found. Her clothing weighed her down, the hems being pulled as if hands had gripped tight on them. She needed a miracle. And a miracle she got. Two hands held onto one of her wrists and pulled her to the surface.

She gasped for air as her rescuer struggled to bring her to shore. The cloth that covered her felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds, making it nearly impossible to move. Water made its way up her throat, spilling over her lips. Her lungs were finally clear. They took in as much oxygen as they were allowed, burning with each brath.

“Lady Gwen! Lady Gwen!”

A young girl blocked out the bright sun. She shook Gwen’s shoulders desperately.

Gwen’s brain processed that the girl was not speaking English, but… she could understand her. The girl’s damp, dark hair was pulled into halves on either side of her face held in place by wide red straps. She looked at Gwen with deep concern, like a lifelong friend. But Gwen was sure she had never seen this girl before in her life.

“My Lady, can you hear me?” she asked frantically.

“Who are you?” Gwen finally choked out.

That made the girl pause in her panic. “What?”

Slowly regaining her strength, Gwen pushed herself up to her knees. As her eyesight cleared, she took in her surroundings. Gone were the tall metal and glass buildings, traffic lights, and speeding cars of her modern home. Now all that surrounded her were trees and a sandy beach of a large, calm lake. In the distance, wooden houses with curved rooftops, painted in bright reds and greens dotted the horizon. The heaviness that weighed her down was a dress made of too many layers and of no western fashion that she’d ever experienced before.

Whispers bounced around the rocky shore. All the faces that were looking on with concern around were unfamiliar. Gwen grabbed the hair cascading down her back, but it was still the red she knew, darker from the dampness of being pulled out of the water but still her hair.

“Where am I?” she asked in a quiet, gasping voice.

“My Lady, don’t you remember?” The girl panicked. “You’re in Songak. Goryeo.”

“Goryeo?” Gwen screeched. All the minor details she could summon up of the country came rushing to the forefront of her mind. It was information overload and her brain couldn’t handle it. Her lungs tried desperately to keep up, breathing in as much air as they could, but her throat was closing up from the panic. The landscape blurred and she fell to the ground.

********

She was in a bed this time when she regained consciousness. The room was cold and dimly lit with soft, orange candlelight. A man, Caucasian unlike the others, sat beside the bed on a stool, worry etched into every facet of his face.

“Gwen, sweet, are you all right?”

English. He was speaking English. But that was a footnote of comfort to the bigger problem. She still didn’t know what had happened to her or how she got here or who these people were that seemed to know her. The man, who was about in his mid-forties with salt and pepper hair, smiled down at her, though his eyes were confused. “Gwen, does it hurt anywhere? Can you tell me if you hit your head?”

Gwen took a moment, to calm down and to evaluate what she was feeling physically. Her head didn’t hurt, nor did any other part of her body. Wordlessly, she shook her head. The man seemed relieved.

“Are you all right?” He asked again, a different meaning under the question this time. “Chae Ryung said you couldn’t remember her or that we were in Goryeo? Do you at least remember your papa?”

Gwen weighed the choices in her mind. There wasn’t a mirror around, but she started to wonder if she had taken the place of someone else. Someone who knew these strangers. She could say that she didn’t know any of them - the truth - but would they think her mad if she spilled too much? Perhaps she could say she remembered a few things. Like him, if he is this poor girl’s father. Why am I here? In this time?

Choosing to comprise with herself, she gave the smallest of nods. “Papa.” Sitting up, she pulled him into a hug and there was something comforting about his embrace. This body remembered him, at least.

“What happened?” she asked after she let go.

“Chae Ryung said that you’d wandered off again and she found you, you’d been the water a long time.” The man, Papa, sucked in a breath, his eyes beginning to water. His genuine concern over her wellbeing made Gwen choke up as well. “The doctor said you stopped breathing. That could explain your lost memories.”

Good. The excuse was already in her hands. That should make it easy enough to play along while being forgiven for any missteps. But they shouldn’t be in Goryeo. That didn’t make any sense, historically. If anything, they might have been in Joseon – late Joseon. Was this some sort of alternate timeline? Or maybe she hit her head really hard in the car crash and this is really all a dream from the stress of her paper and too much K-drama.

Yes. Too much K-drama.

That had to be the explanation. This was all a strange dream. Which meant, she could play along and not be afraid. She could ask questions and live out the day until she woke back up in her own time, most likely in a hospital with a bandage on her head and her mother fretting over her.

She glanced around the room, taking in the architecture that she had only ever seen in pictures. In person, it was even more stunning and intricate. This wasn’t an ordinary citizen’s home. Interesting. What else could her brain come up with? “Why are we in Goryeo?”

“Your father’s a merchant, remember?” He spoke slowly. Each word was deliberate, giving Gwen time to process. Good filler for her mind. “I made a large fortune here and planned on taking you back home, but… your mother is buried here. We couldn’t leave her behind.”

A wave of emotion hit out of nowhere. Though her mother was alive and well, it didn’t stop a tear from escaping. “Mama.”

Papa wiped it away with a coarse finger. Gwen gasped back, surprised by the realness of the touch. Her dreams were never this intricate. The blanket strone across her lap scrunched in her fingers. It was cold and soft… and very real.

She wasn't dreaming, was she?

Confused by her reaction, Papa paused for a moment before continuing his explanation. “The eighth prince is graciously letting us stay with him while we wait on the construction of our home to be complete.”

The eighth prince?

Panic grew tenfold. If this wasn’t a dream, then she was in very big trouble. If history told her one thing, it was that proximity to royalty was the most dangerous place to be. Gwen might possibly have been able to skate by if they were simply staying in some unknown village far from the capital, but they were in a prince’s home. Which meant they were in… Songak, the capital city, just like that girl – Chae Ryung – had said. Right under the King’s nose. Breathing became difficult again. Each one was shallow, barely letting in any oxygen. Gwen could feel her chest tighten and her vision blurred.

“Gwen!” Papa jumped up and tried to keep her straight to give her lungs as much room as possible. He switched to Korean as he called out over his shoulder, “Someone, get the doctor! Now!” Shuffling sounds echoed off the floor on the other side of the sliding door and then faded away.

A minute later, breathing no better, two men and a woman rushed inside along with Chae Ryung. The older man stepped in front of Papa and took his place. He pushed Gwen’s shoulders gently until she was lying down. Two cold fingers against her wrist checked her pulse. The other, much younger man stepped up to Papa.

“What happened?”

Papa frowned. “It seems she’s lost some of her memories. I was explaining why we were here when suddenly she had trouble breathing.” He stopped, struggling with his own breath. “I’m sorry we’ve become a burden to you, Your Highness.”

Gwen’s breathing was regaining strength and she was able to concentrate on the conversation. So that was the eighth prince. He was younger than she would have guessed, handsome even, if she had to focus on something other than her lack of breath.

“Do not think such a thing,” the Eighth Prince replied. “Your presence has greatly improved the household. Lady Gwen will get better with time.”

Papa bowed, obviously grateful at the response. He turned to the woman. “Lady Hae, may I enquire after your own health?”

“Today is a better day,” she smiled, though her pale, drained complexion said otherwise. “Please, don’t worry about me. Keep your thoughts for your daughter.”

The doctor released Gwen’s wrist, satisfied with the improvement of her pulse and breathing. He stood up.

“It was a mild panic attack,” the doctor said calmly to Papa. “If it happens again, she should lie down and focus on her breathing. The incident at the lake seems to have taken a toll on her body. She simply needs rest. In time, her memories and her body will recover.”

Gwen didn’t agree with that statement fully. This body might get better in time, but there was no way memories that didn’t exist would ever return. One by one, the occupants left the room until it was only Gwen and Papa remaining behind. Silence hung in the air. After a moment, Papa sat down on the stool and took Gwen’s hand.

“I was worried I had lost you,” he whispered.

Gwen’s eyes fell down to the blanket covering her legs. Things were becoming clearer to her now. This was not a dream and she was no longer Gwen Sinclair from the twenty-first century. Something must have happened. She didn’t know what exactly had occurred or what would happen now, but she was here. And little did this man – known only to her as “Papa” – know that he had indeed lost his daughter. The face may be the same, but the Gwen inside was different. She would try her best to be good to him, at least until she found a way to get back to her own family. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

********

The next morning, the doctor, along with the Eighth Prince, came back to check on Gwen. The doctor commented that her pulse was stronger and that she seemed well on the road to full health. However, he still insisted on keeping her on bedrest.

Bored with these same walls and too curious about her temporary home, Gwen sat up. If she was going to be here for a while, she might as well get to know it. “I’m fine. Please, don’t make me stay in here all day. The sun and air is good for you, isn’t it?”

The sudden rebelliousness against the doctor’s suggestion did not seem to sit well with any of them. Gwen gave Papa a pleading look. A father couldn’t resist those eyes. He sighed, turning to the doctor. “Perhaps, a little exercise in walking around the grounds would be all right?”

The doctor looked reluctant, but he agreed. “But she shouldn’t overexert herself.”

“Chae Ryung will stay with her,” the Eighth prince ordered. “If you’ll please excuse me, I must meet with my brothers.” He bowed and left, followed by the doctor.

Having heard her name from the hallway, Chae Ryung shuffled quickly inside and over to Gwen, holding out her arms for the latter to balance on as she slid off of the bed. “Are you sure you want to go outside?”

Gwen nodded. “Yes. Perhaps seeing more of this place will help jog my memory.”

Chae Ryung tilted her head. “How can your memory jog?”

Gwen snorted, both at Chae Ryung’s confusion and at herself for the slip of the modern phrase. “Sorry, I just meant, maybe my memories will come back.”

“Oh.” The look on her face was enough to make Gwen laugh again.

Gwen scolded herself internally. She had to be more careful with her words. Every step was one on thin ice. She couldn’t change who she was, not completely, but she would have to pull back. Chae Ryung, however, felt safe, like a shelter from the rain. With her, Gwen could find answers that might be dangerous to seek elsewhere. Straightening her shoulders, Gwen smiled broadly and took her newest friend’s hand. Chase Ryung grinned brightly at her and guided her out of the room.

#exo royalty au #exo royalty!au #scarlet heart au #scarlet heart ryeo #exo time travel au #exo time travel!au #exo angst #exo series #exo x oc #exo x original character #exo ot9 #Scarlet Moon

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re-diesirae · 3 years ago

Text

Prologue & Chapter 1

Prologue

Llanbister, Wales. March12th, 2016.

He was running late. He shouldn't have spent those few extra minutes waiting for that coffee, but then again, the traffic today was a nightmare. He had no idea of what was happening, but at this rate he wouldn't make it to the office until past noon.

The man drummed his finger against the glass of the window impatiently. The line of cars was not advancing at all and he could see the irritated drivers coming out trying to figure out what was happening. The man checked his hand watch and sighed. His office was barely a few blocks from where he was right now; he probably would make it less late if he just got off and did the trip by foot.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by poke on his shoulder. THe woman sitting by his side had suddenly dropped her head on him apparently asleep and he couldn't help but feel the annoyance building inside him.

"Ehm...excuse me, miss." he said trying to hide the irritation in his voice "Miss?"

Seeing that the woman wasn't responding to his words, he tried moving her to a better position. She was cold and he noticed that she was holding a bulk in her arms. No matter how much he shook her or called, the woman remained unresponsive.

A loud set of screams made him jump on his seat completely forgetting about the woman for a second. He looked out the window and he could see smoke coming from somewhere a few vehicles in front. Just like him, the other passengers in the bus were also trying to see what was happening outside with curiosity. Suddenly he was distracted by a stir at his side.

So…the woman had finally decided to wake up.

He turned around to see her and screeched in horror. The woman was suddenly covered by blood; it dripped out from any possible body hole: nostrils, eyes, mouth, ears...

She began murmuring some incoherent things that he could not understand, but before he could ask anything the woman had jumped over him with a roar. It was too quick for him to react as she stuck her teeth on his neck.

The last thing he would ever remember were the people running frantically inside the bus trying to escape, the smell of blood, pain and darkness and horrifying screams.

1. CLAIRE

North America TerraSave HQ, Hughesville. March 16th, 2016.

Claire let out a frustrated sigh as she dug into the fresh pile of paperwork on her desk. After her return from Sushestvivanie Island, the North American branch of Terrasave had fallen into chaos. The treason of one of its higher characters had caused the organization to falter, and people were starting to lose confidence in them. As a result, the directives decided that it was time to put a meaningful person in the head, and that was how she got promoted to branch chief. Despite the pretty office and the fancy title, the new rank brought even more problems into her already messy life. As expected by many, Claire had done a magnificent job as chief by proposing new plans and strategic protocols, among other things. She had done such a great job that the Chiefs from other branches asked her for advice regularly.

"Seriously," Claire sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. " I am not sure if I'd rather shoot zombies every day instead of signing all this paperwork."

Claire gave the file she had been reading one last look before signing and shutting the folder. She left the thing on the pile on her right and stretched her arms. It was then that she heard the shy knocking at her door, and the auburn headed sighed and told whoever it was to come in.

"Excuse me, Ms. Redfield," Madeleine, her secretary, said, peeking her head behind the door shyly, "I am sorry, but I've been knocking for about ten minutes. I was afraid that you might have collapsed."

Madeleine had been working as her secretary for a couple of months now. However, for some odd reason, the girl still acted a little nervous around her. Claire was aware that there was an innate Redfield trait that would sometimes make her intimidating, so she gave the girl her brightest smile, trying to calm her.

"Oh, sorry. I've been spacing out a lot lately. Did you need something? Please tell me you bring me something good and not another of those endless reports that I am supposed to sign."

Claire was feeling pathetic and bored, and she swore that if she had to sign another of those stupid reports, she would jump out through the window and hide somewhere away from there.

Madeleine laughed, feeling a little more relaxed, and shook her head.

"Oh, no. It isn't a report, Ms. Redfield," she replied, "And I supposed it counts as good news, in a way."

"Huh?" Claire said, tilting her head.

"You have visitors, Ms. Redfield."

"Visitors?" Claire repeated.

She looked at the clock on her desk and frowned. She was sure she didn't have anything booked in her Agenda for that afternoon. She wasn't even expecting guests that week.

"Well, a zombie may kill me," a familiar grave voice chuckled.

Claire's eyes widened in surprise, and her lips curled into a smile as she watched her brother's form step into the room with a teasing smirk. He was wearing casual clothes, something that was very odd these days. To her shock, Chris hadn't come alone. When the large man stepped aside, she saw Jill, Barry, Moira, and Leon enter as well. The latter was who made her even more surprised, as she had no idea of what had brought the agent to visit her today.

"Chris! What the...? What are you doing here?" said Claire, dropping her pen. Suddenly, a wave of panic ran through her body, and she looked at her visitors in a panic," Oh, no. Please, don't tell me there was another outbreak."

Her question caught everyone by surprise, but it was Moira's laugh that broke the tension.

"See what I told you?" the girl laughed, "She's been like this for a while. Whenever someone stops only to say hi, she automatically assumes you bring news of the apocalypse."

Claire rolled her eyes. The only reason she did that was that she had enough experience now to know when something was off.

"You would, too, if you had my job. I've gotten six outbreaks in the past two weeks..." Claire defended herself, "that ebola case in Congo and the Plagas thing in Mexico still has me on edge, so don't judge me."

"Ok, ok..." Moira said, raising her hands, "No one is judging."

Claire sighed. The woman turned to her brother and tilted her head.

"Please tell me there isn't another outbreak," she whispered, looking at Chris.

Chris scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Tch, do I need to be in a crisis to visit my baby sister?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I supposed not," Claire shrugged, "but considering your history and that fact that Leon is here, too. It is hard not to think otherwise."

Claire stood up and gave both men a questioning look.

Chris let out a chuckle as he pulled his sister into a warm hug. Claire couldn't remember the last time she'd felt her brother's hug, and she was happy to return it.

"Relax, Claire," Jill smiled, putting her hand on her shoulder, "We just returned from a mission, and we got a couple of weeks to rest. Since we happened to be around and Barry told us you were overworking yourself, we thought we should come to visit for a change."

"Ok, that's reasonable for you," Claire nodded.

Of course, Barry would tell them that since he probably heard it from Moira. The girl was always complaining about how little rest Claire got, but in her defense, the piles of paperwork kept growing, and she needed to finish them on time.

"What about James Bond?"

"Very funny, Claire," Leon sighed.

Claire smirked at him teasingly, and the blonde shook his head with a faint smile. She often teased him with that, and she was probably the only person from whom Leon accepted it.

" Pretty much the same. I came back from a mission, too. I was in the area and coincidentally stumbled with Chris," he answered, "he said he was going to visit you, and since I haven't seen you in a while, I decided to tag along. Is it true that you've been overworking yourself, Claire?"

Claire laughed.

"I guess that's a plus from my promotion," she sighed, and then she quickly added, as she saw Leon give her a skeptical look, "It's alright. The whole thing is more boring than anything else. Just paperwork and stuff, you know. The sort of thing that Chris hates the most."

Claire punched her brother's muscular arm playfully, and Chris answered the gesture by hugging her by the shoulders.

Jill laughed at the comment, while Barry nodded gravely. No one knew how much Chris hated paperwork better than his partners. Both Barry and Chris would do anything to avoid that, so it was Jill who ended up dealing with that.

"Well, it must be some hellish paperwork, then," Leon said, frowning, "You don't look too well."

"Geez, thanks, Leon, but you are one to talk..." Claire said, rolling her eyes, "No, wait. You never look bad, so how would you know."

Leon smirked at her teasing but said nothing else.

"I know what Claire needs to look livelier. How about we grab a bite?" Barry suggested, "I am starving, and I can swear for my Magnum that Claire needs to put on some weight. Seriously, girl. Are you even eating your meals?"

"Yes, I am, Barry," Claire answered, "Are you here to lecture me on my eating habits?"

"Nah, that's Kathy's thing," Barry laughed, "but you're seriously too thin."

"Blame my quick metabolism for that, but talking about food. I think I can take that offer, but you, Barry, are treating me."

"Sure thing, whatever it takes to put some fat on those bones, girl," Barry smirked, patting her back.

It was rare to have all her friends and family reunited in the same place at the same time, and Claire couldn't deny she felt happy, but Claire's happiness always came with a tiny thorn of doubt. No matter how well things looked, a part of her was waiting for something ominous to happen and make that happiness crumble. She wasn't always like that, but after so many bad experiences, she couldn't help it.

No more than a few minutes had passed since the thought had crossed her mind that she found her prediction coming true. The group was walking out of the office when the harsh echo of the emergency alarm began to ring. They all looked around in confusion, and Claire bit her lip with worry.

"What's that?" Chris asked.

"Isn't that the emergency alarm?" Moira asked, looking at Claire, "That thing has never rung before, has it?"

"No, never..." Claire said with a frown. She picked the radio she carried on her waist and began calling into it.

"Red? Do you copy?" a cracked voice called through the radio.

Claire let out a sigh and answered the call, fearing the news that it'd bring.

"I'm here, Grant. Would you mind explaining why the alarm is ringing?"

"Yeah, sorry about that. There was a security breach. Someone hacked into the system and set out all the safety protocols."

"What?" Claire sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Again? Please tell me you are doing something about that."

"Ah, yeah. I am at it," Grant replied, "where are you now?"

"Standing in front of my office door," Claire said, looking at Madeleine. The girl was sitting at her desk and turning pale.

"I got an S.O.S call from Saya," Grant replied, "Things are a fucking mess. All the security protocols in the laboratories got activated, and people got either locked in or locked out. I tried to help remotely, but the hacking messed up with the system, and it's rejecting me. I am trying to fix things up, so I can't go and reset it manually. Mind lending a hand and taking a look? I think your master code should work."

"If it is rejecting yours, what makes you think mine will work?"

"Well, your code works differently, and even if it fails, I trust you can figure out a way to solve it in situ. Just try not to toast my circuits."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What happened the last time?"

Claire rolled her eyes.

"Fine. You fix up this mess. I'll head to R&D."

"Roger to that."

Claire put the radio away and groaned.

"Sorry," she told her friends. "I hope you don't mind a detour and a slight delay on that lunch date?"

"Well, we don't mind," Barry replied, "Duty is important."

"What happened?" Chris asked, "is there anything we can do to help?"

The group walked to the emergency stairs, followed closely by her brother and friends.

"Ah, never mind. It's just another false alarm," Claire sighed, "It's another attempt to wreck our security system. These pro-terrorists have taken it up against TerraSave, lately. This incident is the first time they succeed, though. No surprise, Grant is so pissed off. He controls the whole cybersecurity system in the building. His pride must hurt."

"Grant?" Jill asked.

"Grant Wallace," Moira chuckled. "Claire's little fanboy and the head of cybersecurity."

"Fanboy?" Jill asked curiously.

"Don't ask," Claire replied, rolling her eyes.

"Hardcore fanboy," Moria smirked, "and not shameful about it. How many times has he asked you out?"

"Out of topic."

Moira smirked and wagged her eyebrows meaningfully.

"So, pro-terrorists?" Leon asked, and Claire innerly thanked him for changing the subject.

"Well, Mr. Government agent, I would have expected you to know about it. It seems there's a significant group of people who believe TerraSave is causing more damage than good. The organization has made its enemies, and the situation with Fisher made our credibility fall apart. We get tons of threats daily."

Claire had, purposely, omitted the detail about the fact that more than 80% of the threats were specifically for her. She could deal with the nuisance, and there was no need to worry about them with silly pranks.

"Those extremists see anyone that goes against their ideas as enemies. Everyone knows the effort that TerraSave has put into helping people in need, Claire," said Chris, placing his hand on her shoulder. "You are all doing a good job."

Claire smiled at her brother. She didn't recall when was the last time she had Chris physically by her side. They spoke regularly by phone unless he was on a mission on some decrepit corner of the world and out of reach, but having the flesh and bones Chris was somehow soothing, especially now. The younger Redfield had been having some issues recently. Her paranoia and neuroticism had been keeping her awake at night. A part of her was unconsciously awaiting a calamity, but having her brother close was a rare comfort.

They reached the fifth level of the building, and Claire led the group through the door and into a corridor with white walls.

"Well, I just had a deja vu," Chris said, shuddering.

Claire snorted. The corridor would surely remind them of many of the bioterrorist laboratories they had visited in their career in the BSAA. However, it was the standard design of any health and investigation facility.

"Don't worry," Claire smiled, "We don't make bioweapons here."

"Fuck no," Moira agreed.

"Where exactly are we now?" Leon asked curiously.

Claire smiled again, this time with some pride. Level five and six held restricted access, so even most members of TerraSave had no access to the place. Chris had visited the building on several occasions, but he'd never stepped into this area either, and Leon had only come once, so she wasn't surprised that he seemed a little confused.

Claire was sure that Leon expected the place to look like a conventional office, but he found laboratories instead.

"Research and development, Level four. Biosafety and Public Health department," Claire explained, "We do some research on disease treatments and control. We work continuously to develop effective countermeasures during outbreaks. Health care systems, communication, medicines, among other things."

"You are developing vaccines?" Leon asked, "here?"

"I had no idea TerraSave could do that," Jill said, surprised.

"No, unfortunately, we lack the resources to develop vaccines. However, we can provide data to companies to help, and we can design treatments for disease, but we don't have enough power to produce vaccines."

"We have the brains, though. Right, Claire?" Moire said, grinning.

"I have no doubt we do. We have many competent researchers."

The group turned around the corner and reached an area with several glass doors. The lights on their electronic locks were red and blinking, and a tall woman with long black hair and Asian features was pacing back and forth in front of the door restlessly.

"Saya," Claire said, surprised.

"Ah, god bless us. You're just the person I wanted to see," the woman said.

"Well, I'm happy to be a sight to sore eyes, I suppose. You got locked out?"

"Isn't that obvious?" the woman asked with a frown, "I went to get some papers from the office next door when the alarm rang. All the doors got locked. I tried my master code, and guess what, it rejected it."

"Any sensible essay I should be worried about?" Claire asked, opening the panel and fidgeting with the buttons.

"Well, not on my part, but some people were working in lab3."

"They will run out of Air if we take too long," Claire sighed, "Let's hope it won't reject my master code."

"I am sure that you can figure out some other way if that happens," the Asian said, "though maybe something less explosive than the last time."

"Are you all going to keep reminding me that?" Claire said, rolling her eyes.

Claire pressed the buttons in the panel. Finally, after tampering with the electronic log several times, the red light turned green, and all the locks chimed, indicating that they were open.

"Bingo," Claire said, closing the panel.

"As expected from Fix-it-all Redfield," the Asian woman chuckled, "You're an angel."

"Oh my god, so the fix-it-all title was for real?" Moira asked.

It was because of Moira's sudden outburst that Claire and Saya remembered that there were other people present.

"Oh, my. Where are my manners," Saya said, looking at Claire, "Who might these be?"

Claire scoffed and turned to her friends.

"You know Moira, of course, this is her dad, Barry; this is my brother Chris, his partner Jill Valentine, and my old friend Leon Kennedy."

"Oh, friends of our chief are friends to me. I am Saya Hiwamura."

Saya shook everyone's hand politely.

"She's a doctor and one of our active researchers."

"You give me too much credit," Saya said with dismissal, "We all know the one doing most of the work here is you, Ms. Fix-it-all."

"Can you stop with the nickname?"

"Why? We know it brings good luck."

"That rumor has been running around the members for a while now," Moira explained to her father and friends, "everyone says that when something isn't working, you must come to Claire. She will fix it."

"Oh, that's a horrible lie, and the reason why my work load keeps piling up."

"Well, that's your fault for being good at this job," Moira laughed, "If you sucked, no one would ask for your advice."

"If I sucked, this branch would sink deeper."

"You can't blame yourself for that," Moira said, "That's fucker Neil's doing."

Claire shrugged. Suddenly, they were interrupted by the sound of Claire's radio. The woman answered it and got greeted by a lot of static.

"Hey, Redfield. Do you copy?"

"Yeah, Grant. What's wrong with your signal? It sounds so bad."

"Not...sure. Probably interference," the voice answered, "Hey, can you come to the Command Center? I've got troubles here, and I would like you to take a look."

"Me? You are the tech guru, not I. If you can't fix this mess, then I can't either."

"Oh, I am sure you can fix this. Come down here, and you'll see."

Saya gave Claire an amused smile, and the auburn headed caught Moira snickering.

"Fine. I'll be there in a minute."

Claire put the radio away and groaned. She turned to her friends and gave them an apologetic look.

"Sorry, I have got to check this," she sighed.

"Wallace calling for you, huh?" Saya smirked, "He'd use any excuse to have you pay him a visit, wouldn't he?"

"This is purely professional. I don't know what Grant wants me to see, but I am sure it is important," Claire shrugged, "Would you mind entertaining my friends until I'm back?"

"Oh, no. I am happy to oblige," Saya smiled at the group.

"Are you sure you don't want us to help?" Chris asked, but Claire waved her hand.

"I am sure it's nothing. Grant is a dork sometimes, but he knows his deal. The security system in the building is tight. I am sure they just messed up with the alarms and stuff, nothing more than a bad prank."

"Are you sure?" Jill said, "We don't mind helping."

"It's fine. I'll check, and I'll be back in a jiffy. We can get that lunch then."

Claire patted her brother's back and walked down the hallway until she disappeared around the corner, leaving the group behind.

Claire reached the basement, where the Command Center was. The alarm had finally stopped ringing, and the woman was happy to hear silence at last. The loud whistle was starting to cause her a headache.

Everything seemed to be in order, but she had an odd feeling in her gut. However, the woman brushed it off as her paranoia, kicking into action. She had seen several people on her way down, but once she reached the basement, she felt it unusually quiet.

"You are overthinking, Claire," she told herself as she pushed the door to Grant's office open.

The room was empty and dark, except for the tiny lights coming from the equipment. That was the first thing to set off her alarm. From all the rooms in the building, that room was the only one that never looked dark. Even if the lights were off, Grant's monitors would still light it up enough.

"Grant?" Claire called.

There was no answer and Claire's gut twisted. Something was wrong, and she was automatically on edge. Her clear eyes tried to scan the room for danger, but with the little light, it was difficult for her to see if there were any threats.

It was a good thing that her instinct was fast to react. Otherwise, she wouldn't have evaded the dark figure that tackled her from behind the door.

Claire rolled over the ground and stood up in a jump, taking a fighting position. The woman landed a clean kick on the ribs, sending the black-suited person against the wall.

Her attacker was surprised by her reaction, perhaps he taught that Claire was an easy target, but she wasn't. The woman was ready to fight if she had to. Claire hit the man several times, but the man dodged one of her hits and pushed her against the table, slamming her head against the polished wood.

The attacker was sturdier and stronger than her, and he had the advantage in the fight. However, she'd learned to fight from Chris, and he had taught her many ways to overcome that disadvantage. Claire's knee hit the man in the stomach, knocking the air out of him. Using that distraction, she grabbed his head and slammed it against the table several times until the man fell to the floor unconscious.

"Well, crap," Claire gasped, rubbing her head and trying to recover her breath.

She was about to check who the man was when a second man, who she had not seen before, attacked her. The auburn headed struggled against the man, leaving a mess in the small office.

It was at the last minute that Claire realized that there was a third person in the room, but she was too late. The third attacker raised his shotgun and hit her head with it.

The impact was painful, and it made her lose her balance. The second hit knocked her out, and the last thing she felt was a crushing pain on her backs as she faded away.

#Cleon #fanfic #my fanfiction #leon x claire #claire redfield #claire x leon #resident evil #leon s kennedy #chris redfield

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dreamersdreamloud · 4 years ago

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Drug Cartels (Part 1?)

Lena Luthor x Boss Cartel Reader

AN: attempted rape, betrayal, strong language,

The Luthor Cartel and Los Reyes Alfa Cartel have been in a drug war for a couple of years. The older generations knew how it all started but as the years went by, the lines have been blurred and the people had a hard time who to put their trust in. The two drug groups weren’t always like this before until a turnt of leadership led them into this direction.

It all started when two men from college wanted to start a business to make quick cash. The easy way to do that is to sell drugs. A shit ton of drugs. The two men became popular by name within their community. (Y/F/N)(Y/L/N) and Lionel Luthor have become popular within a month of sales. It’s a given fact that college students love doing drugs whether it's smoking it up or shoving it through their nostrils. They both agree that they want to keep this business stable but their supplier was lacking on them.

Lionel pitched an idea that they should drop out of college and use his remaining inheritance money to create a warehouse supply in Mexico. It was relatively cheap at the time to buy land and start work. The two men drop out of college and disappear to Mexico to start a booming life.

It was fairly easy. They got connected with American sellers and hired a bunch of Mexicans for the work. They called themselves the Templar Cartel. Lionel kept track of supplies and how it gets delivered while your father kept track of making deals and where the money was flowing. They become rich in the same year. They threw their money almost everywhere and anyone who needed it. They became the untouchable heroes . They hired lots of men for protection and women for pleasure. Life was going good for them until the Mexican and American government wanted to shut them down.

The governments were getting frustrated with the rise of overuse of drugs, violence, and gang related fights. At first they didn’t know why and how but they found out that drug lords were the problems. At first, tensions grew between the Templar Cartel and the Mexican government. On both sides, many have lost lives from their own members or family.

Lionel and your father brainstormed a plan to ease off from the government. They paid off Mexican officials to do some of their dirty work and create two branches within the Templar Cartel to cover more ground. More drugs and money production to flow in. It was doing really well until the American government finally got involved. Their efforts of hunting down warehouses were impressive but very dangerous.

Lionel and your father have finally decided to go their separate ways and made a verbal agreement with several witnesses to not harm either drug group and hope for the best from out running the police and the ignorant government officials who betrayed them.

***

A year and half later

Lionel had found the love of his life. Lillian. He met the woman who was vacationing at one of the most beautiful Mexican beaches. They hit off pretty well and manage to keep a healthy relationship to the point where Lillian agrees to marry the leader of the Luthor Cartel. It wasn’t long for them to produce an heir, Alexander Luthor. Also known as Lex Luthor. Lionel was very pleased that his first child is a son who he can bond with and teach the ways of the Luthor Cartel.

By the time that Lex was 14 years old, he found out that his father cheated on Lillian with an Irish woman when he visited Ireland for a business trip. The trip was about making new deals to send out drugs for that area. Lionel made a drunken mistake and fucked a woman during his trip out there. Lillain was upset for a while but they were able to talk it out and kept the marriage strong. When Lena Luthor was born, she wasn’t living in the Luthor compound yet, until after turnt of events.

Lena’s biological mother was purposely shot by a rival gang. The backstory was when Lionel was in a meeting that day. Lena and her mother went to a beach to enjoy the nice warm day. Lena’s mother went for a swim and Lena walked around the beach to collect seashells.

On her mother’s final moments, Lena heard a loud gun shot being fired from afar and she saw a bullet go through her mother’s head. A clean shot. Members of the Luthor Cartel tried to chase down the sniper. One member retrieves little Lena to safety just in case the sniper were to shoot again.

Little Lena did not cry nor scream at her mother’s death. She knew what was going on and all felt helplessness in her heart. Lionel and his men took less than a week to find out who murdered her mother. A phony small drug gang who tried to scare out the Luthor Cartel for crossing their Irish territory. Lionel sent out orders to kill all the members of the drug gang.

Lillian and Lex accepted Lena warmly but did not get much attention as Lex. The soon to be rising leader of their family cartel. Lionel has been training the young man into becoming a successful and ruthless leader. Lionel would give some training to Lena too but he always thought it was best that she stayed in school and stray away from the family business.

***

A tragic day happened within the Luthor Cartel. Lionel Luthor was finally shot down by the CIA. The Americans have caught up with the cartel leader and brutally shot the man in public. The news spread so quickly. Lillian sent out members to pull out Lena and Lex from school to make quick changes of leadership.

Lex became the new cartel leader. Lillian went into hiding because the Americans were hunting her down as well. Lena had a choice to go into hiding too but she decided to stay with her brother to help lead. She was angered by her father’s death but she can’t believe she was experiencing the same helplessness she once felt for her dead mother. Lex wasn’t coping well either. His rage was concerning but no one dares to question him.

Lex sent out plans on expanding and killing many of those who were in the way. Lena supported his ideas and thought it was necessary. The Luthor siblings were unstoppable until Lena had a change of heart. She witnessed her brother send out orders to kill an innocent man’s family just because that man had pissed off him.

Lena tried to convince Lex to stop the execution. She failed. She saw that Lex’s men shot the man and woman in front of their children and then the children became the next target. Lena cried for them that day. She cried out for many other family members but she did nothing to help. She let her brother do it.

Her brother created more problems for the Luthor Cartel. He has started a war with Los Reyes Alfa Cartel. Lena and Lex knew that the leader of that cartel was once close friends with their father. They knew the history of how this all started but never saw the face of the leader. Lex didn’t care for the old connection and threw the known verbal agreement out of the window. Lex stole clients and killed members of Los Reyes Alfa.

Lex was growing insane and became hungry for more power. He threw a proposal to his sister on how to gain more power and money by sending her off to marry a cartel leader from Africa, James Olsen of Los Caballeros Negros. Lena rejected. She refuses to be in a arranged marriage with an unknown man who was know to rape women and kill families of those who disobey them.

This angered Lex. He slapped Lena across the face and said “how ungrateful of you to refuse such a great opportunity! We are trying to build a bigger empire! For our father! For us!”

Lena didn’t cry. She glared at him. She was going to hit him back but his two close men, Ben Lockwood and Morgan Edge, took her away and locked her in her room. A few hours later, Morgan came back with handcuffs in his hands.

“Your brother told me you need some warming up to do.” The disgusting man rubbed his clothes cock and eyed Lena from head to toe. “He says that this might change your mind. Once I’m done with you, I’m sure you’ll change your mind about your brother’s proposal.”

Lena panicked. The man is going to rape her. She’s still a virgin too. She wasn’t going to let this man take her pure form. She didn’t scream because she knows that won’t help. Morgan holds her down and rips her tight skirt. She felt the hard cock hit her thigh. She kicked and punched the man.

“You bitch!” Morgan slaps Lena’s face and tries to hold her down again. He attempted to unzip his pants with one hand but Lena kicked again but this time in the right spot. The man groaned on the ground and held onto his manhood. The raven-haired woman picks up a heavy object and knocks him out with a single blow to the head.

She grabs the combat knife and gun on his body and quickly packs a backpack full of essentials. She manages to get out of the Luthor compound and makes a run for it. She doesn't know where she’s going but she knows she can’t stay within the Luthor Cartel territories. Eventually, the woman who used to run the Luthor Cartel with her ruthless brother is now on the run.

When Lex found out that she escaped, he sent out groups of people to hunt for the young Luthor. Little did he know, Lena ended up hiding in the Reyes Alfa grounds where her faith could be unpredictable.

#lena luthor #lena x reader #lena luthor imagine #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor x you #lex luthor #war on drugs #drug cartel au #luthor family #lex luthor x lena luthor

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9worldstales · 3 years ago

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MCU Loki: Is character development what we see in episode 1 or not?

I’ve discovered there’s a debate if what happened to Loki in episode 1 can constitute character development or not so I felt like sharing my two cents about it.

So, character development.

Character development IN THIS SPECIFIC CASE refers to the changes a character undergoes over the course of a story as a result of their experiences (positive or negative) and actions (successful or unsuccessful). Change can be positive or negative as the character can improve himself but also can sink into an abyss of depravity. It’s worth to remark changes is not necessarily always triggered by something they did, it can very well be something that happened to them that caused them to change… but the point of character development, IN THIS CASE, is that there has to be a change in the character. He can’t remain the same.

So… I’ll pick Tony Stark because his situation in “Iron Man” presented plenty of parallelisms with Loki in “Loki” and not just because some like to consider Tony too a narcissist.

So, same as how Loki was taken captive by the TVA, Tony Stark too was taken captive by the Ten Rings. For three months. There Tony is forced to see how the weapons he produced were used by terrorists to kill other Americans and who called him “the most famous mass murderer in the history of America” and were honoured to have him in their hideout. They originally were meant to kill him but since they realized he could be of some use to them, they’re willing to keep him alive because they want his help, not to search a Tony Variant but to produce more weapons. Tony though, understands once they have finished using him, they would dispose of him. Tony also has the major problem of being told to have only a week of life due to the wounds he suffered.

In this part of the story Tony is just a victim, he doesn’t really get to do something, negative things are merely poured onto him.

It parallels what happens to Loki for most of episode 1.

He’s beaten, taken captive, informed he’ll be killed, his execution is postponed because they decided he could be of use, he’s told he’s a murderer, a liberator of eyeballs who wasn't born to be king but to cause pain and suffering and death, all so that others can achieve their best versions of themselves. He’s also told he caused his mother’s death. And, all right, Mobius won’t immediately tell him what he wants him for, but it’s pretty clear he wants him for something.

So, back to Tony, when we have his character growth? When he reacts to all that was poured on him and react not just by fighting back in a typical Tony style (using his brain to create something that would allow him to fight the Ten Rings and escape) but also by changing things. Once he’s back home Tony announces he won’t produce anymore weapons.

The man who said...

Tony: Is it better to be feared or respected? I say, is it too much to ask for both? With that in mind, I humbly present the crown jewel of Stark Industries' Freedom Line. It's the first missile system to incorporate our proprietary repulsor technology. They say the best weapon is one you never have to fire. I respectfully disagree. I prefer the weapon you only have to fire once. That's how Dad did it. That's how America does it. And it's worked out pretty well so far.

...becomes the man who say...

Tony: I never got to say goodbye to Dad. I never got to say goodbye to my father. There are questions that I would have asked him. I would have asked him how he felt about what this company did. If he was conflicted, if he ever had doubts. Or maybe he was every inch the man we all remember from the newsreels. I saw young Americans killed by the very weapons I created to defend them and protect them. And I saw that I had become part of a system that is comfortable with zero accountability. I had my eyes opened. I came to realize that I have more to offer this world than just making things that blow up. And that is why, effective immediately, I am shutting down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark International until such a time as I can decide what the future of the company will be.

This evolution makes sense. It feels believable. Why is that?

Let’s go back to Tony Stark.

Tony stark didn’t mean to be ‘the most famous mass murderer in the history of America’, he was sure his work was protecting people, he didn’t realize it was used by the bad guys, likely because he just accepted his legacy of son of Howard Stark and didn’t bother to think at it any further.

When he discovers things aren’t how he assumed, after a moment of discomfort in which Yinsen had to motivate him...

Yinsen: I'm sure they're looking for you, Stark. But they will never find you in these mountains. Look, what you just saw, that is your legacy, Stark. Your life's work, in the hands of those murderers. Is that how you want to go out? Is this the last act of defiance of the great Tony Stark? Or are you going to do something about it? Tony: Why should I do anything? They're going to kill me, you, either way. And if they don't, I'll probably be dead in a week. Yinsen: Well, then, this is a very important week for you, isn't it?

...he started fighting to change them. It fits with Tony’s personality, it makes narrative sense, it’s well presented, it’s believable on a psychological standpoint (yes, a person like Tony Stark would do this) and from an empathic standpoint (yes, if I were in Tony Stark’s place I would do the same).

When Tony gives his speech in which he shows he has changed, he surprises the people who have no idea what he went through, but not the viewers. For the viewers his reaction is perfectly believable.

So why, for a part of the fandom, what happens to Loki doesn’t feel equally believable since his experience parallels Tony? Why part of the fandom feels there was no character growth at all?

Well, I can’t answer for everyone, everyone probably has his own reasons but merely by keeping up the comparison with what happened to Tony Stark we see how the thing doesn’t work the same.

A premise here, I know there will be people tempted to think Mobius is the stand in for Yinsen because Mobius is likable and, ultimately, he’ll become Loki’s friend.

He’s not.

Yinsen was held captive by the Ten Rings, his life in danger same as Tony. There’s a moment in which they even threaten him and Tony has to stand in to save Yinsen’s life.

Mobius, as far as Mobius and Loki know, is not another prisoner of the TVA, he’s there willingly. Yes, he’s operating under the false belief he has been created by the TVA but he’s not aware of it. In that moment, as far as Mobius is involved, he’s a willing operative of the TVA, someone in with authority, in control of Loki’s life...

Mobius: Mmm... Luckily, he believes in himself enough for the both of us. And, hey, if it doesn't work, I'll delete him myself. He's really arrogant.

...and the TVA is his purpose, his life and he believes it to be real.

Mobius: It's exactly the same thing. Because if you think too hard about where any of us came from, who we truly are, it sounds kinda ridiculous. Existence is chaos. Nothing makes any sense, so we try to make some sense of it. And I'm just lucky that the chaos I emerged into gave me all this... My own glorious purpose. Cause the TVA is my life. And it's real because I believe it's real.

He doesn’t feel threatened by the TVA, coerced. He’s doing what he does because he believes he’s playing the good guy.

Mobius: All that time, I really believed we were the good guys.

So no, Mobius here is not the equivalent of Yinsen, he’s the equivalent of Abu Bakaar, the guy who tells Tony he’s ‘the most famous mass murderer in the history of America’ and wants to persuade him to cooperate with the Ten Rings, in the same way Mobius wants to persuade Loki to cooperate with the TVA. Keep this in mind because it’s relevant and easy to forger since we know how things will develop in other episodes.

And okay, now let’s go back on track.

Let’s talk of the motives that caused the change in Tony Stark.

Tony is shown by Abu Bakaar something he previously wasn’t aware of, how his weapons are used to kill Americans, that, by building them, he became an accomplice in killing Americans, which was something he didn’t want, hence the change.

Loki is shown… the events of “The Avengers” which he was aware of and which, of course, doesn’t impress him much…

Loki: No. And I remember. I was there. Anything else?

…as the show didn’t play the card of the sceptre influencing him as they say in the official web. Mobius doesn’t tell Loki ‘you did this but you weren’t in control of yourself, you were manipulated by the sceptre’ no, Mobius tells him ‘you did this’ and Loki’s answer is basically ‘yeah, I know, so? Why should I care?’

So Mobius moves to the events of “Thor: The Dark World” and, more specifically, to how Loki ‘caused’ Frigga’s death.

This is something that, in theory, can work as equivalent of Tony Stark being told his weapons are used by the Ten Rings to kill Americans. Loki clearly didn’t want any harm to befall on Frigga, whom he loved dearly. We know that in “Thor: The Dark World” he sufferd a lot for her death, blamed himself and changed (or better, in the authors’ original intentions, he mostly reversed back to how he was before “Thor” but this is a topic for another meta).

For who doesn’t remember the movie in “Thor: The Dark World” after Frigga’s death Loki:

- agreed to help Thor

- brought him and Jane to Svartalfheim

- put up a show for Malekith according to Thor’s plan without betraying Thor

- protected Jane TWICE, the last time risking his own life to save hers

- stopped the Kurse from killing Thor by stabbing and killing him and, in the original plan for the movie, he was also meant to die doing so. Even if you go by the ending the movie ultimately had, Loki has protected a human, cooperated with saving the universe from the Dark Elves and saved his brother’s life instead than letting Thor get killed.

It’s quite a change from how he was in “The Avengers”.

Then great, we’ve something that could push him to change, right?

Wrong.

For start because what Mobius says had happen to Frigga in truth hadn’t happened yet and wouldn’t have happened to THIS LOKI as he wasn’t carried back on Asgard because he escaped with the Tesseract. THIS LOKI has escaped and so wouldn’t end up captive on Asgard, wouldn’t be jailed and wouldn’t be there when the Kurse would intrude in Asgard’s prisons so there’s no way he can do something that would lead to Frigga’s death. Problem solved.

We continue with the fact that Mobius can’t prove to Loki this would have happened had Loki been carried on Asgard. Let’s forget how the version of what happened he gave to Loki is wrong and misleading. Even if he’d been absolutely truthful, what he does is to show Loki a video... but how can he prove this is the future that was meant to happen and not a lie he’s telling him in order to manipulate him? Tony saw his own weapons being in the hands of the Ten Rings, one of them exploded in front of him, wounding him, he disassembled some of the others, he’s sure the Ten Rings has them. But how can Loki be sure what Mobius is telling him is true and not just an illusion? A lie?

But whatever, the series tries hard to sell us through Loki’s reaction that he believed Mobius’ words about this being true because he totally loses his cool at that scene. So, okay Loki believes so will this change him the way it changed him in “Thor: The Dark World”?

Nope.

Tony changes because he does something to actively prevent Americans from being killed by his weapons, he shuts down their production and he involves himself personally in the fight against terrorists with a weapon only he controls, the Iron Man suit.

What does Loki do to prevent Frigga’s death?

Nothing.

His attempt at escaping might have been made more urgent by this piece of info but was something Loki had tried to do from when he’s been taken to the TVA… and in the following episodes Frigga’s fate will be completely forgotten, as if Loki has stopped worrying about it entirely. When talking with Sylvie about Frigga in episode 3 he doesn’t use it as a motive to explain why he wants to gain control of the TVA, to change his mother’s fate… nor it’s something that inspire him to fight the TVA, because that role belongs to Sylvie and Sylvie only. When he’ll try to persuade the other Loki Variants to help him, again he won’t mention Frigga, just Sylvie. Frigga won’t get mentioned not even when Loki will reach The Citadel at the End of Time and Miss Minute will try to tempt him. She’ll offer him glorious power and Sylvie, nor her nor Loki will try to bargain for his mother’s life instead. No, from episode 2 onward what Loki learnt in episode 1 goes forgotten, so let’s focus solely on episode 1.

Some believe Loki in episode 1 changed because he admitted he didn’t like to hurt people, that he’s a villain and helped to cooperate with Mobius.

Mobius: Loki? Nowhere left to run. Loki: I can't go back, can I? Back to my timeline. I don't enjoy hurting people. I... I don't enjoy it. I do it because I have to, because I've had to. Mobius: Okay, explain that to me. Loki: Because it's part of the illusion. It's the cruel, elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear. Mobius: A desperate play for control. You do know yourself. Loki: A villain. Mobius: That's not how I see it. You try to use that? Loki: Oh, several times. Even an Infinity Stone is useless here. The TVA is formidable. Mobius: That's been my experience. Listen, I can't offer you salvation, but maybe I can offer you something better. A fugitive Variant's been killing our Minutemen. Loki: And you need the God of Mischief to help you stop him? Mobius: That's right. Loki: Why me? Mobius: The Variant we're hunting is... you.

Only… this doesn’t really work.

Why?

Loki has tried escaping and has been forced to realize he can’t, that’s why he cooperates, that’s why he gives Mobius an answer to what he asked for...

Mobius: Do you enjoy hurting people? Making them feel small? Making them feel afraid?

... why he agrees with his accusations...

Loki: I know what I am. Mobius: A murderer? Loki: A liberator. Mobius: Of eyeballs, maybe.

...and ultimately accepts to work for the TVA.

This parallels Tony refusing to build armies for the Ten Rings, being tortured and, ultimately agreeing to build weapon for them, at least verbally. And let’s remember if it wasn’t for Yinsen’s words Tony might have given up. It’s Yinsen who encouraged him to fight back.

So this doesn’t constitute Loki changing, just accepting he’s powerless against the TVA and must play along with them. Playing along with someone isn’t something new for Loki, the episode even lampshades it.

Mobius: Well, let's start with a little cooperation. Loki: Not my forte. Mobius: Really? Even when you're wooing someone powerful you intend to betray? Come on.

So no, him being forced to accept the TVA is powerful and therefore deciding to cooperate with them is not a change. This series sets it as a normal Loki behaviour… as well as the fact it’ll immediately turn out he intends to betray them.

Loki: Very nice. I mean, it is adorable that you think you could possibly manipulate me. I'm ten steps ahead of you. I've been playing a game of my own all along. Mobius: What, charm your way in front of the Time-Keepers, hustle them, and seize control of the TVA? Am I getting warm? A double cross by history's most reliable liar.

And what for? Power, glorious power.

Loki: I'm going to overthrow the Time-Keepers. And, uh, cards on the table, I could use a qualified lieutenant.

Loki: Oh, yeah? What about you? Your years-in-the-making plan was to tear the place down, create the ultimate power vacuum, and then just walk away. I'd never have done that.

Nothing of what happened on this episode changed what the “Loki” series claimed to be Loki’s character prior to the “Loki” series. At the end of it he’s cooperating with someone more powerful than him so that he could betray him and take the power from him, which is how this series claimed all the Lokis (except Sylvie) were.

There’s no change.

There could have been, what happened in episode 1 could have worked for Loki in the same way it worked for Tony Stark but it didn’t. The authors even stated that his friendship with Mobius started in episode 2, not in episode 1, likely when Loki believed Mobius was sticking out his neck for him and offering him his sympathy.

Loki: Okay. Why are you in there sticking your neck out for me? Mobius: I'll give you two options, and you can believe whichever one you want. A, because I see a scared little boy, shivering in the cold. And you kinda feel bad for that ice runt. Or B, I just wanna catch this guy, and I'll tell you whatever I need to tell you. Loki: I don't need your sympathy.

So we’ve a problem.

The authors rambled more often than not on how much episode 1 changed Loki, how what they called ‘Mobius’ therapy session’ was good for him… but failed to show it in a way that would make sense with the settings set by the series.

If the series states Loki is one who, prior to arriving to the TVA, was used to cooperate when intended on wooing someone powerful he intends to betray and ends with him being willing to cooperate with the TVA after discovering it’s powerful so that he can betray it later, we go exactly back to the starting point. There’s no change, not in this episode.

His words about not enjoying to hurt people but it being merely a play feel like a forced admission of a truth he couldn’t possibly not know and his admission of being a villain isn’t followed by any genuine attempt at changing something in himself. He just acknowledged the role the TVA wanted on him… because he’s trying to woo them so that he could betray them later on.

If we want to stretch things A LOT we might assume seeing Frigga’s death worked for him in the way being told Odin died worked for Thor in “Thor”. It made him more determinate to protect the person he loved, a.k.a. Sylvie… but it stands up poorly, in part because Loki completely forget Frigga, and how she’s going to die in the TVA approved timeline, in part because, although the Loki and Sylvie love story has cute moments that make you wish you could root for them, in truth that too is poorly constructed, with Loki falling for Sylvie for hazy reasons in less than 12 hours (according to the series because she doesn’t want glorious power, according to the authors because she’s a female variant of himself), in part because… well, it doesn’t really feel consequential, it feels more like it’s me forcing such reading because I’ve heard over and over that what happened in episode 1 is supposed to matter, it’s supposed to have changed Loki somehow and so I’m grasping at straws to fit it in the story when it’s actually just forgotten.

So, the real problem is that the series doesn’t bother showing us Loki changing as a direct consequence of what happened in episode 1 in a way that’s relevant and directly consequential.

Sure, it made many happy to have Loki confirm out loud what many in the fandom already figured out, how he doesn’t enjoy hurting people, that it’s all a play.

Sure, it seems self reflection to have him admit he was a villain.

Sure, since many were deluded into thinking the people at the TVA were on the good side, it might feel like an improvement to see Loki agree to side with them.

Sure, the episode, with its parallelisms to what happened with Tony Stark, made us hope it would lead Loki to ultimately do like him.

But when all is said and done, if you look at the scenes in contest and then watch the following episodes, none of this goes anywhere and it couldn’t go anywhere.

We know originally episode 1 was planned to be very different and end just the same, with Loki accepting to cooperate with the TVA. This means the only things that were relevant in the plot that had to be in episode 1 for the series to work were Loki being captured by the TVA, being forced to acknowledge its power and accepting to work with it.

The so called and overly incensed ‘Mobius therapy session’ wasn’t something so fundamental to the plot the story NEEDED it to work and, ultimately, the story forgot it, to focus on Sylvie and on how SHE was the one who changed Loki (as well as Mobius, albeit Mobius changed him in a smaller measure) turning what happened in episode 1 into some sort of ‘Eastern egg’ for who needed to have his mind refreshed on what happened in the other movies in which Loki starred, albeit as the scenes are decontextualized, if you don’t remember well the movies, you’ll end up drawing the wrong conclusion.

It’s sad because Tom Hiddleston’s performance as he watched those scenes was great, possibly the best in the whole series, I mean I heard plenty of people who totally felt for Loki, me as well, because his pain was so raw, so palpable, and this episode just had this BEYOND HUGE amount of potential to turn Loki into another Iron Man… so it’s so very sad to see that in the end it was all dissipated like a soap bubble, never used so that Mobius and Sylvie could be the ones to cause the change in Loki. Which yes, it’s understandable as the story wanted to give them more relevance but feels like a complete waste of an otherwise good opportunity to have Loki decide for himself, due to what he had learnt, a different course in his life.

But whatever, that’s it. Sad, a waste, but that’s the story they decided to tell us, so it comes to no surprise some weren’t sold there was character development here, while they were willing to buy it in “Iron Man”. The story just didn’t build up on what happened in episode 1; it used it like a filler.

Of course though, people can have other reasons than the ones I’ve listed not to see character development. I can’t speak for everyone who didn’t see it… but I’ll say the ones I listed still could work for many.

Lastly, it’s worth to remark this doesn’t mean episode 1 isn’t enjoyable... it is. Hiddleston’s performance is so damn awesome I’ll never get tired to remark it, Wilson does great and this episode brims with potential. But the sad thing is that it remains unfulfilled, episode 1 just doesn’t deliver what he seems to promise, a change in Loki.

#mcu loki #mcu iron man #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #frigga #mobius m mobius #sylvie #tony stark #ho yinsen #abu bakaar #9 worlds study

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