#do we get a glimpse at civilians' lives. they are left behind the scenes. but even so...

[specialshinytrinkets]

time passage, huh...

I used to come here quite a few times. Because on every school holidays, minus summer one, I'd go with my grandma to the sanatorium. Plus me and my grandparents would go skiing here. I struggled climbing back up — and still do. I'm afraid of sliding from large slopes, too.

Eventually though, around the time I was a pre-teen, we both stopped. Now I'm not sure whether or not we'd go back there again. I mean, it's not like we can't. It's that it isn't as necessary, possibly? Or not as effective? My grandma's health is getting more and more frail — I see it myself. I'm afraid of... her heart stopping to beat. Some ordeals done in a sanatorium wouldn't be as good for her as before, probably. Considering it's not just the asthma that is there to treat.

Or it is from me... just being selfish?

Now I'm 16. I came here by myself. I have never been here completely alone. And it's just as beautiful as it has always been... But it feels different.

I have never been a social kid. I've always had a handful of friends, and even then most of the time I spent at home watching YouTube, be it by myself or with mom in the next room. I wouldn't chat with many people, as I found it hard to find the topics — they didn't know what was inside my head. They seemed... normal. They didn't draw demonic versions of beloved cartoon characters, inspired by a let's play on a fairly crappy .exe game. I have always been the best listener to myself. Me and my sketchbooks.

And the few people that I thought were the same either weren't trustworthy from the beginning, or weren't of my taste. Yes, I'm going to say it — it's normal to dislike someone, even if they have the same interest as you.

But in either case, I was alone. Too many times, too often. I had barely anyone to share my art with. But then I was encouraged to make an instagram account to share my art.

Did it help? Not really. Since I was followed by my mom and grandparents, I knew I couldn't post everything. Plus, I was less aware of what social media was back in 2019. So ultimately, it stayed the same, except I showed my drawings to the public that wasn't the target audience I had aimed for. And at some point I saw others making accounts sharing WIPs. So I made one, and in combination it was occassionally a vent account. Problem was that my mom followed my there, so I had to put on a filter of what I could and couldn't post again, plus use only English to not be caught in captions. And then I lost access to it after getting a new phone, so it stays as a small archive of me losing motivation in drawing at one point and denying I'm bi and a furry.

And now... I'm here. I'm 16 years old. I have existed for not much time at all, compared to other artists and especially the universe. But it's not as if my life is worthless. It went through phases. Many phases. It had joys and sorrows. It had self-hatred and self-doubt. It had projects picked up and dropped. Creations made and remade over and over, in hopes to unleash full creative freedom. And through all this time...

It left a mark.

It left a mark on this world, in some way. There have been people before me, who have done the same. Who screamed into the void, hoping it would respond back. Who left symbols that say "Hey! I used to be here!" And only now do I see what these words mean. I may never meet people who have left these graffitis, and they may never meet me, but I'll know they existed. That they came here, into this sanatorium, found an abandoned structure built for god-knows-what, and left their mark. Which may not last until the end, but it's still here!

The evidence of us being alive!

... Keep living. You are not worthless. Your pictures and songs may not be passed down in museums, but they will exist as a reminder of what being human is about. You may stumble and fall, but ultimately that's what life is, right?

It's a path you make yourself.

- 29.12.2022

[randomwritings29]

Dark City

It was a moonless night. Wisps of smoke and grey painted the darker than black sky. A short blinding light occasionally blinked across the sky as some daring, curious flight attempted to catch a glimpse of the mayhem blanketing the entire area, in every street, home, car. Sitting on the solid, ghoul-grey edge, as he blew out smoke from his cigarette, he looked out at the city. His city. The city they called the home of destruction, chaos, and anarchy.  

Why stay here? Why remain in this disaster of a town? What could possibly compel you to live here? How about moving to someplace safe? All questions he had heard before. And he had only one response to every single one.  

‘This is my home.’ 

His friends, family, even acquaintances were always baffled by this response. Yet it was the only one that made sense to him. This city had given him a home, a place of safety to rest. It had not once abandoned him, so why would he try to do so to it? 

He blew out a plume of smoke. 

Police sirens rushed to fill the silence as another crime took place on the street in front of him. A robbery it seemed like, from the broken glass and empty shelfs. He doubted that was the last of the crimes that would take place that night. 

Enveloping the night air, screams rang out as a mother begged some common piece scoundrel to spare her children and kill her instead in the alley right below him. The father, like a coward, was hiding behind her. The children, like helpless toys, were crying. The man, like a cold stone, ignored their desperate cries.  

He tilted his head, watching the scene play out in front of him. It seemed like the man would win and escape with his prize, but he knew that a mother’s love was never to be underestimated.  

She steeped in front of her two children, pushing them to the back, and faced the gun pointed at her head without an ounce of fear. The father did nothing. The children were crying, begging the man to spare their mother.  

He scoffed. Love like this still existed in the city after all, a relentless, unconditional love that would never be washed away by all the hate that filled every street, alley way, building in the city. It had preserved and remained despite all the attempts of the inhabitants to squash it.  

A spark from his cigarette fell down the side of the grey – stoned building.  

The sound of two quick gunshots hung in the air. One in the head for the foolish man who would attack innocent civilians who represented the good the city may still host. The other in the heart of the coward of a boy who had dared to call himself a father when he had done nothing to protect his family when they were in danger.  

The mother rushed to her children, not a second after the shot, hugging them, consoling them. She tilted her head up, looking straight at him, as though she could see him, and he could have sworn a wave of a mixture of relief and gratitude filled her eyes. And then, in a blink of an eye, she was grabbing her children’s hands and running far, far away. She had not once looked at the dead corpse of the man that had once been her husband.  

Another spark got carried away by the wind to the ground. 

Interrupting his 'city watching', vibrations shook his pocket. Answering the phone, he heard ‘The shop’s dead empty boss. Nothing left to see there. The cops are swarming around so we all scattered but I can have the gang assembled and ready at the warehouse. What do you want us to do next, boss?’ 

‘What’s going on with Anderson’s team? And Jess’s? They haven’t checked in yet.’ 

‘I think they both are still on their jobs, boss. I haven’t heard in sirens in the West or East ends yet.’ 

He sighed.

‘So, what’s our next job boss? Don't tell me this is it? We’ve only hit 5 shops tonight.’ 

‘Get some large bags, scaling equipment and new guns from old Rockey. You're pairing up with Sarah's team. And then, you lot are going to steal every single cash note made today from the money house. And don’t even think of forgetting even one.’ 

‘Yes, Sir. We won’t disappoint. I’ll call you once we’re done and have Naomi keeping you updated on our progress.’ 

‘Oh, and Scully?’ 

‘Yes, boss?’ 

‘Make it quick. I have another job for you after this.’ 

‘No prob, Boss.’ 

Just as he closed that call, another pocket started vibrating.  

‘Yes Janice?’ 

‘I just wanted to remind you that you have your dinner with the mayor in one hour and the charity gala after that. Your suit is ready for you at your mansion on fourth street and the limousine will be waiting for you at your doorstep.’ 

‘Alright. Thanks for the reminder.’ 

‘No problem, Sir’ 

Hanging up the call, he stood up on edge and tilted his head backwards. And laughed.

Why stay in this city?  

Why leave this city? Would a lion ever leave his pride? Would an emperor ever leave his empire? 

He controlled everything in this city. A single person could not take a breath without him knowing. Why would he ever leave all this power and control?  

He smirked. The dark city was his to rule over. No one could say otherwise.  

Squashing his cigarette like a bug, he disappeared into the night as flames covered the west end and screams drowned out the east.  

The dark city was going to become a hell lot darker under his reign. 

[frostedfaves]

Haunt (7)

Masterlist

Pairing: civilian!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Three women on a bridge, two pairs of feet on the ledge, and one problem that’s easier to solve than you think.

Warnings: angst (but maybe fluff later? 👀), ghosts/demons, slightly graphic blood mentions, attempted bridge jumps/suicide, funeral/car crash/death/grief mentions

A/N: I won’t say that this is the last chapter because I do have an idea for an epilogue...it’s just a matter of whether or not I can execute it properly. anyway, can’t wait to hear your thoughts on what I hope is not a shitty (almost) conclusion!

Previous part

-

“Hey, I thought you were at Wanda’s tonight?” Mia asked, greeting you with a smile as you passed her on the way to your room.

“I am. I just have to grab something.”

You closed the door behind yourself and opened your closet door, using an old storage bin to climb up and reach the tallest shelf. Once the locked box was safely in your hands, you stepped down and grabbed the key taped to the back of your dresser on your way to the bed. The journal and newspaper tumbled out as soon as you unlocked the top, and you took a deep breath to distract yourself from the sudden wave of nausea.

“There.”

You looked up to see a shadowy finger pointing at the picture in the article, and seeing the wreckage again in your conscious state seemed to knock the air out of your lungs.

“That’s home.”

“That’s not home,” you snapped as you met her eyes. “That’s nothing but a grim reminder of what used to be.”

“It’s home, and you’re going there.” When you blinked, you saw a flash of Wanda bleeding out in the same spot you left her, and you gasped as your eyes opened again. “Glad to see I have your attention. Let’s go.”

You quickly made your way out of the apartment again, leaving the light on in your room because you were afraid of what you would see in the dark corners. Once you were in your car, you began your drive down to the place you hadn’t seen since the accident, parking a few feet away from the stop sign with an upset stomach and a heavy heart. As you got out of the car again, you noticed the pole you’d crashed into had been replaced and all the glass and debris were long gone.

“Why am I here?” you questioned, keeping your voice low to match the atmosphere of the nearly silent neighborhood.

“You’re supposed to be on the bridge.”

“The crash didn’t happen there,” you recalled, but you found your feet moving toward the metal staircase anyway.

Your heartbeat seemed to line up with your echoing steps as you made your way up to the bridge, and a sinking feeling told you that this may be the last setting sun you see. Your eyes watered in the orange light as you faced the crash scene again, managing to keep your eyes on it as you climbed onto the ledge and took a seat.

“Why are you sitting?”

“Because I don’t want to do this,” you exhaled as you began to cry again. “I know why you brought me here but I don’t want to do it.”

“Well, I didn’t want to die because you don’t know how to look both ways in an intersection, but here we are.”

“I looked both ways, but the other driver was speeding! How is that my fault?”

“I told you--begged you--not to leave me behind and you did.”

“For fucks sake!” you yelled as you turned your head toward her. “I had to call for help so you wouldn’t die in the car!”

“Instead, you let me die alone in a hospital room. Huge improvement.”

You dropped your head to watch your fingers run along the concrete, listening for any kind of noise from the surrounding area and sighing when there wasn’t a single sound to be heard. Part of you was certain that the being beside you had something to do with that, but you couldn’t be bothered to ask anything else when you knew it might just start a fight. You hated the way it made you feel, taking you back to that very night when you were walking on eggshells around your extremely intoxicated best friend.

“Get up,” the voice suddenly snapped, and you groaned once you recovered from the shock.

“I told you I’m not ready!”

“It’s either you or her.”

The sound of car doors closing came from your left, and you seemed to move on autopilot as you stood up on the ledge, keeping your eyes on the pair as you did so. The wave of nausea grew taller and lasted longer, and you felt the familiar trails down your cheeks headed for your chin.

“Don’t come any closer,” you finally managed to say, feeling a bit of relief when they stopped.

“Baby, please come down,” Wanda choked out, and oh how you wish she hadn’t spoken. Just hearing a second of her soothing voice made you want to run into her arms and never look back, but you knew who would pay the price if you did that.

“I can’t...I have to do this,” you sobbed as you heard the voice from the other side encouraging you to hurry in an angry tone. “It’s the only way to stop her.”

“Y/N, I know it seems that you’ve made up your mind…” You watched Mia pull something from her pocket and hold it up in the air. “...but if you give me a chance, I think I may be able to change it.”

You squinted a bit to try and figure out what she was holding without allowing her to come closer. Every bone in your body yearned to gravitate toward the pair, knowing that you’d feel safer and comforted once you were surrounded by their warmth, but the furious protests stopped you from doing so.

“I’ve had too many chances,” you fought back, frowning when you noticed Wanda locked eyes with Mia for a second before facing you again.

“If you’re going to jump, then I’m coming with you,” she told you calmly as she climbed onto the ledge a short distance away, and you instantly panicked.

“No, you can’t do that!”

“Why not?” she challenged you.

“Because I love you, and I don’t want you to die, especially not like this. You deserve so much better.”

“So do you!” she cried out as she dared to take a step toward you. “Why do you think I’m here?”

“No, Wan, I have to die,” you insisted as you took a step back. “I’ve loved every second of being with you and you’re nothing short of perfect, but I should’ve died a long time ago with my friend. She didn’t deserve to go alone.”

“If she was really your friend, she wouldn’t want this for you.” She took another step, and you found yourself falling into her comforting gaze. “She’d want you to live the life she couldn’t.”

“I hear her everyday, and I don’t think she agrees with you.”

“Okay, so I’m not a therapist obviously,” Mia cut in as the two of you faced her from the ledge. “But are you sure you aren’t just hearing the voice of your own guilt?”

“What?” was all you were able to get out as the raging voice behind you seemed to quiet down.

“You told me that she kissed you and confessed her feelings for you before you left the party. No matter how angry or emotional she was in that moment of you turning her down, she wouldn’t be haunting you like this if she really loved you. Whether it was friendly love or more.”

“Don’t listen to her. She wasn’t there.”

You turned to the other side to glance at your ‘friend’, who seemed to look a lot less like her now. Bitterness and rage became evident in her expression, which really seemed to help Mia’s point. You almost never saw her direct those emotions toward you, even when you’d done something wrong. Still, you had to be sure.

“What were you going to show me?” you asked as you turned to look at Mia again.

“It’s the obituary from the funeral,” she explained as she began unfolding it. “I know you didn’t go, so I thought maybe you’d like to hear what your best friend really thought of you. Her parents included a page from an old journal they found.”

You listened with tears in your eyes as you heard the girl who was once the first and last person you spoke to everyday describe you with words you’d never even considered for yourself. With each sentence, it was more and more obvious that she’d been in love with you far longer than you realized, and the thought comforted you more than it hurt, to your surprise. As the dam broke and breathing became a bit harder, you turned to the entity one more time and a look of understanding seemed to pass between the two of you. You understood that you weren’t in the company of a friend, and she understood that you could no longer be fooled.

“I’m sorry,” you addressed Wanda as you carefully approached her on the ledge, grabbing her hands as they stretched toward you. “I know I’ve put you through hell in the last few months, but I promise to only make you feel as loved as you’ve made me feel, even at my lowest.”

“You already do, detka.”

You couldn’t help but grin as she wiped away any lingering tears with her thumbs before stepping off the ledge and pulling you down into a bone-crushing hug. A breathless laugh escaped you as Mia crashed into you from behind, and you sat there in a comforting silence for another few minutes. You tossed your keys to Mia once you pulled apart after she offered to take your car home, catching a glimpse of the daunting presence as you looked out onto the street below. She was staring at you from beside the pole that replaced the one you crashed into with blood pouring down her side, and just when you felt yourself getting a bit worked up again, Wanda’s warm fingers squeezed yours and reminded you of the safe haven you’d been gifted.

“Thank you for making it in time,” you told Wanda once you were sitting in the car. “You always know the right thing to say or do and when, and I thought maybe it was a side effect of teaching small children for years. Really, it’s just a side effect of being a perfect angel.”

She let out a surprised giggle at your words and leaned over to kiss you for the first time in hours. She didn’t let it go far, simply pulling away and lacing her fingers through yours again as she drove off the bridge and began heading home.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I’m really glad I ran out of paprika.”

-

Tags: @littlegasps @peggycarter-steverogers @imnotasuperhero @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikruismybitch @cristin-rjd @slut-for-nat @honeyvenable @nazyalenskysbabe @stickystudentlightmug @choni-trimberly @thedragonzland @dylxn-lee @cordeliaswhore @ravvakin96 @leximills2004 @smolgayhooman @ajlawinters @sanctuaryofgods777 @midnightreme @moonlightxmadness

[rorodawnchorus]

Ep 2-4: Theatre of Justice

No, I didn't come up with the title. While looking at some scholarly works around Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil, I came across this paper which very aptly describes what this whole live TV show in The Devil Judge is. The entire process, the production team behind the TV show, the public voting process and the live televising of adjudication are all theatrics for both entertainment and catharsis. It is created to placate the people by creating the illusion that justice is now in their hands and that the people knows best although manipulation by people behind the scenes leave much to be desired in terms of achieving idealistic justice.

Perhaps even as an audience, the concerted effort to properly portray the unforgivable evilness that seem so innate in the Minister of Justice's son prompts the audience to cheer for the judges who mete out severe punishment against the rich. In a deeply divided society where the rich is unimaginably wealthy while the rest struggles and straddles the poverty line, it can be cathartic to see powerful, rich people being severely punished.

Kang Yo Han begins to have a cult following in which members wear T-shirts with his face on it, wave the Korean flag and cheer for him, flailing their hands in the air as though worshipping a deity. Ga-On looked on at the small group of young men who struts into the street and cheer loudly (although this was muted; I'd imagine they were extremely loud from everyone's reaction). This is very symptomatic of what seemed to me like the inception of a violent cult which can grow into something more sinister. Genocides in different countries have all seen a process of designating certain groups as deserving violence inflicted upon them, that they should be exception to the rules of human rights.

The way audiences of the People's Court TV show reacted and were a little too keen about flagellation wasn't surprising at all but it still made me squirm. In my head, the most recent scene of flagellation (albeit also fictional) was the scene in Outlander. Whipping/flogging/flagellation are extremely brutal methods of punishment. Caning still exists in prison, behind closed walls, tucked away from the public eye and mind. Like some others who have mentioned, this form of punishment does nothing to address the problem which the justice process is trying to deal with.

Here we have a young man who seems to have the world at his feet. Groups of older men who seem like executives in his father's company tremble before him. He treats everyone beneath him as though they were dust, only deserving to be trampled on. He drives around the city threatening or actually running into people. But then we are given a glimpse of his backstory where he was raised without his parents' affection, love or attention. He seems to be on medication for perhaps anxiety or other mental health issues and also has substance addiction. Do I think any of this can be mitigating factors? No. But his eventual explosion of emotions in court, his plea to the judge in utter fear and his lashing out at the spectators of his trial ("Do you think you're better than me?") do point to certain things. 1) people wanted an outlet, revenge, and something through which they can vent their frustrations. 2) his anger at society stems from his emotional instability and childhood which continues to be left unaddressed. 3) is it perhaps a latent desire in people to want to have violence inflicted on others and a justifiable reason would easily prompt them to cheer on such use of violence?

1. Both Kang Yo Han and the people from the foundation are using this in the theatrical performance of the People's Court. Kang Yo Han knows that people want to see these politicians and elites punished so he uses this to serve his personal purpose of revenge.

Ultimately, Kang Yo Han brings up the proposal to punish him by flagellation. The TV producer immediately gets his team to search what that means and project images and description for the punishment on screen. Then, Kang Yo Han announces that the audience can vote whether or not to flog this man through the voting app. (Because the lawyer was saying imprisonment is an unsuitable sentence for his client). Because the court seems to be constructed on this concept of unprecedented justice process, Kang Yo Han uses the voting app to create this public demand for the punishment which the minister of justice cannot possibly prevent unless she is ready to throw her political career away.

There are sentencing guidelines and a presumably developed human rights principles with regards to punishment (ie. State violence). Even if we consider this version of Korea to be different from the current one, I believe it can at least be premised on development closer to our society before it diverged into the one found in this drama. That said, Kang Yo Han is overriding all of these and urging the public to choose. He tells the voters, here's your chance so what do you choose? Witness statement without verification of identity, reliability of statement, evidence, cross-examination were all thrown out the window and he sentences him right after a public vote. Having been provoked by the videos and testimony of random people who were mostly working class, this can be likened to a virtual type of mob violence. They were out for blood because of how this man (with issues that should perhaps be dealt with through therapy, etc.) treated all these people who were working and serving him in some way.

I think this juxtaposes the war Kang Yo Han initiated in his classroom when he was young; he knew what it was that pushes all the right buttons to get the outcome he wants. Is it manipulative? Sort of. But it only works because he knows how people will react to something if prompted.

This leads to the 3rd point I mentioned. Kang Yo Han is banking on the frustration that has been aggravated by a widening gap between the rich and poor. The poor has nothing but the smartphone app where they could seek some form of justice. Indeed, we do not live in a very different world from the one which is depicted in this drama. We have virtual mob violence, or perhaps what most calls "cancel culture". Because the justice system cannot deliver the justice people want, Twitter and other forms of social media are used to deliver the brand of justice that people want. In Korea, online communities are where people initiate a certain exposé that could take a celebrity's career down. Just very recently, Kris Wu has been exposed online to have been sexually involved with a minor. Now allegations that he has asked for sexual favours from fans. His career in China, it seems at this point, is well over. It is too early at this point to tell if he will face legal consequences or be officially investigated. The entire process in these few episodes struck me as very true to life (perhaps with lesser flair and live TV theatrics).

I think the judge who wrote this script is really crafting an intricate commentary of our society. How public justice is delivered and how different it is from the judiciary. Kang Yo Han thinks like a politician, as Ga-On's mentor says. He wants to give the people what they want, not deliver justice as a jurist by following legal principles. In fact, he abandons almost all of that and offers an extremely violent solution to quell the anger of the mob. It isn't until later (in the next few episodes) that random comments of a civilian squirms at the violence inflicted on this despicable young man while watching TV. It is different to say you want punishment against a person and then to actually see it happen before your eyes. Yet, there are people who indulge in this spectacle of state violence. Perhaps they are working class and have experienced bullying by the rich. Kang Yo Han builds a cult following (albeit unwillingly as he complains about the difference between his fans and Ga-On's fans lol). His avid fans are often performing an obsession for Kang Yo Han as a symbol of new justice. They praise and practically worship him like cult followers tend to do, raising their hands in the air in praises, hollering his name and has Kang Yo Han's face on the front of their T-shirts.

(This got a bit too long but the next 2 episodes are also a rather similar commentary which continues this one. It can be seen as an extension of this case and the theatrics that emerged around it.)

[cacti-are-like-flamingos]

The Golden Hand

° Assassin’s Creed Odyssey Imagine °

Chapter 3

Fem! Reader

Central Masterlist | The Golden Hand

Just how was he to take you back home when he didn’t even know where to start? Alexios had not the faintest idea on how to do that; pray to the gods? They don’t always answer, and when they do, it’s just downright confusing. His only choice was to continue on his journey and hope, that by some miracle, the answer would reveal itself soon. However, as such worries and doubts continued to plague his mind, they were soon drowned out upon his eyes falling on you.

He had to admit it.

You were utterly adorable.

Your eyes, round and soft, peered at the lively scene of the marketplace with star-like sparkles. Your lips drew apart ever so slightly, a smile merrily making its way on them as you expressed a fondness to how ancient, how....different this world was. He wondered how you felt about it all. Surely you were experiencing some extreme form of cultural shock. Two days could not possibly remedy it. Perhaps your joy was a façade, a guise for the truth of your feelings.

“Ah, yes! This tells of Odysseus’s voyages and his battles.” “And this?” “That one refers to the miracles of Zeus and the gods.” “They’re so beautiful.” You murmured, admiring the paintings on the pottery. By now, Alexios had shifted his attention back to you, pushing his thoughts all the way into the back of his mind as he came to realize that he has subconsciously followed you to the front of a small pottery stand. He watched as you kindly interacted with the clerk, the elder blushing at your beauty and compliment.

“Why thank you! Although my hands and body have begun to age and wrinkle, my passion for art has yet to fade.” You smiled. He watched you for a few moments before briefly turning his attention behind you. There, not far from the two for you, was Phoibe waving her scrawny arms around as she tried hard to get the misthios attention. Chuckling under his breath, the man leaned into your ear, breathing a short, “I’ll be back” before moving away from you. Heading over to the young girl, he gave her a look. 

“How’d it go with Markos?” Phoibe asked. With a small grimace on his face, he replied, ”How it always goes. I didn’t get my money and I’m running another errand for him.” Humming, she settles herself on top of a nearby rock. Crouching to her level, the conversation continues. “Why did you let him boss you around?” Her words earned herself a gentle glare from the older male, “I owe him a debt. From the past.”

“Did you borrow drachmae?” Oh the innocence of youth.

“Not that kind of debt. Few people would take in a runaway they caught thieving. I was just a kid.” Unbeknownst to him, you had accidentally caught his words. 

“Huh. I’m just a kid. And I’ve done pretty good for myself.” Phoibe stated with a sense of pride earning a snort from the man. “What do you want Phoibe?” She looked over to you,” Well, I was going to ask help first but -- who is she?” Her eyes ran down you figure, sparkling with curiosity. Glancing over his shoulder, he couldn’t stop the small smile blooming on his lips as he watched you speak with another civilian. “She is...a friend.” 

“She’s really pretty. Is she nice?” Alexios chuckles. “I only met her yesterday but I believe so. Now, what do you want Phoibe?” Getting back on track, Phoibe continued, ”You know Kausos?” He squinted his eyes in confusion, “The town on the other side of the island? Why?” She answered, ”People there are sick--my friend Kynna is too. There’s a blood fever. They say it’s a curse and that they need help from the gods.” “I told you, I’m not a god.” “But Ikaros--”,”Is a bird.” With an exasperated expression she yelled,” That doesn’t mean you can’t help!” 

There was a moment of silence. It was his hardened expression against her own puppy yet desperate eyes.

She won.

“Agh! All right, I’ll look into it.” With that said, Phoibe let out a grin and a loud ‘Thanks!’ before running away. Sighing, the man ran a large hand over his head, massaging his temples in annoyance. First you and now this. Just how was he to-“Alexios? You okay mate?” Your voice was soft yet clear as you now stood beside him. With a glimpse he could see your concerned expression, your groomed brows knitted together. It was then that an idea struck him.

“(Y/N), since you are from the future, your people must’ve conjured many cures for various illnesses, no?” You gave him a look but nonetheless nodded. “Do you bear any knowledge of your time’s medicine?” “I’m no expert but I do have some knowledge. Although, you have to take into account that medicines are more advanced in my time. What we have, we have because of technology.” He nodded.

“We shall journey to Kausos, a town on the other side of Kephallonia. There is a blood fever. Hopefully, you can help.” 

He had now realized that the two of you have managed to reach the docks. Lightly nudging you, he quietly whispered into your ear, ” 

“Hopefully.” 

Why did you get the feeling that today was going to take a turn for the worse?

...

The journey there was hell. There was no other way to describe it. What you could only imagine once lush and green and full of life and festivities, now seeming barren and full of death and burnt flesh. The putrid smell of corpses and of blood’s iron burning your nostrils to the point that you could barely breathe. Desperately trying to muffle the scent by placing your hand to your nose. And as the horse galloped, you watched the scene around you. Whole structures were burned either to the ground or near to it, smoke billowing out from their interiors in large clouds of black and grey. A pile of bodies, clothed in blood stained fabrics, laid beside the burning buildings, waiting to be cremated. A ring of black surrounded the pile from underneath, the dirt having been scarred from a previous cremation.  

“By the gods, what has happened here?” You heard Alexios mutter under his breath as he took in the scene. Judging by the tone in his voice, you could tell that the sight had, too, taken him by surprise.

You stayed quiet, trying to focus on your breathing rather than the sound of the crows cawing loudly above your heads. It was then that you heard the cry of a man burst through the cawing, it was loud and clear.

“You’re murderers! Murderers!” What? Diverting the horse over to the origin of the voice, Alexios forced the animal to come to a stop right before a small bridge. Helping you come off the saddle, he led you over the bridge and into a situation you never thought you were ever going to be a part of.

 “If the gods won’t help you, the sickness must be destroyed by our hands! We have no choice.” Spoke a man wearing dark clothing and a bow fastened around his torso. Two other men at his either side of him, surrounding what appeared to be a family.

“Help us!” Yelled one of the children as the two of you made your way over to them. His arms bound by rope.

Oh god.

“He won’t let us go!” Shouted the father. 

Keeping your distance, you stayed behind the burly man. Rubbing the palms of your hands together as a way to comfort your hammering heart. Thoughts racing through your head. Alexios was expecting you to somehow save these people, but in all honesty, you had not the slightest clue as to how herbal medicine worked. I mean, you did know just a few things based on videos you had seen on YouTube but nothing that can truly save a person, much less a fucking village. Shit, now panic was setting in and that wouldn’t do any good. Steeling your nerves, you turned your attention to the conversation. Only managing to hear the last few sentences of the man’s explanation.

“...We couldn’t keep up with the bodies. It was spreading --- we had to intervene. “ He said.

“They killed our brothers! Our neighbors!” Countered the father, his wife adding on, “We survived the massacre, but he’ll kill us now!” The man, who you had now realized was most likely a Priest based on the clothing he wore, continued, “The gods have abandoned us. The sick must join the dead f we are to save the living!”

“You burned the whole village?” Alexios asked in disbelief. The Priest looked down in shame before answering,” Many nights were lost praying. We had to take action --- to scorch the blood fever out of Kausos.” 

“Is there no hope for a cure?” The Priest shook his head, letting out an exasperated sigh as he answered,” Nothing has worked. Sacrifice, prayers...” The wife interrupted,” Healers won’t come near us, soldiers won’t let us leave...The gods won’t answer our prayers!” Alexios sighed, shifting his weight to his left as he spoke, “But I know nothing of the plague.”

“There is nothing you can do. If you intervene, I will be forced the defend the gods’ will.” he priest warned. “We aren’t even that sick! We’ll get better!” “Nobody gets better! This is the only way all of Kephallonia will save itself from extermination!” It was then that the Spartan turned to you, his eyes having the slightest glimmer of hope. 

“(Y/N), is there anything you can do? Is there any chance that you can save them?” His voice soft and quiet. It was almost drowned out by the crackle of the fires. 

You gave yourself a moment to think. If this was a virus, then the only thing they could do was ride it out... but....shit, you’re not a doctor. The hell were you suppose to do, much less say? 

You could feel a knot form in your throat, a bubbling sensation blooming within the pits of your stomach --- anxiety. There was a slight tremble to your hands, but why? Why were you feeling this way? This place was a game, no? It had no real consequence, right? No, no that kind of thinking doesn’t apply here, because while to you it will always be a game, you are still quite physically present in it. There are consequences to your actions. There are right and wrong answers. So what now? 

Taking a deep breath in, you briefly looked back up into his own. And with the slightest shake of your head, he knew your answer. 

Sighing, he spoke, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be involved in this.”

“We don’t have to die!” The mother protested. Slamming her bound wrist onto her lap.

You wanted to say something, anything. But nothing would come out. Your lips moved, but not a sound was made. Instead you hid behind Alexios, your lips sealed shut, as he spoke with the priest once more before motioning for the two of you to walk away. It was after ten steps that they’re screams were heard. 

And, as if to add salt to the wound, a lone figure ran up to you.

Phoibe.

“You...you didn’t save them? What about Kynna? She’s my friend!” You felt a tug at your heartstrings upon seeing her heartbroken expression. Alexios, who stood just a foot in front of you, tensed his shoulders. A frown on his face.

“How could I make that-”, noting the increased volume in his voice, you placed a hand to his bicep. Upon feeling your touch, he breathed. “ Listen Phoibe. I know you’re sad about Kynna --- it’s a big loss. But look around you. You want this to be like this everywhere?” He gestured to their surroundings.

The young girl frowned, “No...but maybe Kynna would get better. They could be wrong about her!” “And maybe the sickness would take the family tomorrow. It’s impossible to tell.” The misthios argued.

Folding her arms, Phoibe looked to the ground, “I hope you’re right.”

You didn’t know what compelled you to speak, you just knew you had to say something to the young girl. Licking your lips, you kneeled down to her height. A saddened look on your own face.

“Phoibe, I know we have just met but...sometimes, good people die. No matter how much we don’t like it.“ She stared at you for a moment, her eyes flickering about your face. It was a only a moment later that she allowed herself to lean closer to you.

“I know...I just wish it wasn’t true.” And with that, she walked away.

Watching her figure slowly dwindle to nothing but a mere shadow, you breathed. The smoke still burning the inside of your nostrils. 

“Alexios?” “Yes?” “Let’s...let’s go...please.” Your voice quieter than the occasional breeze. You heard him grunt, “ Of course.”

Realization didn’t come quick. 

It was only after you had mounted onto the house, with your hands gripping tightly onto his armor, that the realization came to you.

You had killed someone. Rather indirectly, but still.

Innocent blood was on your hands.

How did it come to this? You were but a student just a day ago. 

How did everything change so quick? So...in the blink of an eye?

Alexios would never tell you, but he could feel your tears dampen his clothing.

...

(A/N): Sorry this took so long, I’m still trying to figure out how I want this story to play out and for how long.

Hope you enjoyed!

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Salutations to you, random people on the internet who most likely won't read this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons!

Gonna be honest, I didn't think The Falcon and the Winter Soldier needed to be a full-length TV series. I mean, if Spider-Man can discover that he didn't have to replace Iron Man in a two-hour and nine-minute long movie, then the Falcon can learn he can't replace Steve Rogers in the same amount of time, right? I was excited, don't get me wrong, but I didn't know how they can fit a plot for a movie into a six-hour-long series. Unlike WandaVision, which needed to be a TV show to get those TV homages right for each episode, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier didn’t sound like something that would honestly work better as a film. But, once it started airing, and my excitement increased each week, I can positively say that it would not have worked as successfully if it wasn't a TV series.

Unfortunately, I'll have to get into spoilers to explain why, but trust me when I say that if you haven't checked it out yet, you definitely should. Because I'm about to dive in (or fly in) as I explain why The Falcon and the Winter Soldier is easily in the top tier MCU projects.

WHAT I LIKE

Sam Wilson: If WandaVision was about developing Wanda, then The Falcon and the Winter Soldier is about developing Sam. He might share the spotlight with Bucky, but this is so clearly Sam's story. It's his journey of becoming the new Captain America that gets more of a focus, and it is one of the best aspects of the series. And as I said, it's similar to Spider-Man's journey in Spider-Man: Far From Home. Sure, this time, it's more about stepping up to the mantle, but both Sam and Peter have to learn how to be their own hero rather than replace the one left behind. In Sam's case, it's more than just being the new Captain America, but also being the black Captain America. I'll talk more about the implications of that later, but for now, all I'll say is that it was so engaging seeing Sam accept his role. Plus, even though Sam tries to carry Steve's title, that doesn't mean he's Steve Rogers 2.0. He has his own ardor and personality as Captain America, on top of still representing the aspects of what that title entails. Partial credit for that goes to Anthony Mackie, who does a phenomenal job of portraying a man who's inspirational and charming in all forms of hell. I'd salute him as much as I'd want to have a beer with him...except not really because I refuse to touch a single drop of alcohol. But Sam Wilson would make me consider it! Because he's that good of a character.

Bucky Barnes: Much like Vision in WandaVision, Bucky takes the sidelines as Sam acts as the main face of the series. Unlike Vision, however, Bucky's story seems more like its own thing rather than something that's connected with his co-star. In a way, it's better, but it also seems worse. Because without having it be locked with Sam's story, Bucky's is still compelling as it develops him further in his own way. His journey may not be as engaging as Sam's, but it's still entertaining enough to watch his own narrative get continued in small spurts. Although, the fact that Bucky's story has little to do with Sam's does have the unfortunate side-effect that he doesn't need to be there. His inclusion is very much welcomed, but I feel like Bucky dealing with his own guilt and trauma as the Winter Soldier could be something that can fill up its own series rather than half of one. That being said, Bucky absolutely needs to be in this show. The emotional turmoil that Sabastian Stan portrays so well hits hard, and his dry humor works for some comedic highlights. Bucky's half of the story might be unnecessary for plot reasons, but it is unquestionably necessary for enjoyment.

There’s a lot of talking: This seems like a misstep, especially since most superhero shows are bogged down by characters talking to pad out the run time. Although, the dialogue in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier is more like the dialogue in the series Daredevil. There are more words than action, but nearly every line is so incredibly engaging that I do not care. Sam and his sister talking to a banker about getting a loan might not sound as entertaining as Sam being in an air chase against terrorists, but I surprisingly held onto every word being said due to how well-acted it was. Plus, these discussions help make these characters more human on top of making the world feel believable. I understand the argument of show don't tell, but to me, as long as the dialogue is written well enough and said convincingly, I can learn to live with it.

The Flag Smashers: The concept of the Flag Smashers intrigues me. The idea that a group of people believes things were actually better when half the world got turned to dust is a perfect concept for the MCU to explore. In fact, this is the third story in a row that dives deep into the consequences of what happened post-Infinity War and Endgame, and I'm all for it! The universe is forever changed by this one big event, and it's not going to be irrelevant anytime soon. For the Flag Smashers, they offer the most striking glimpse of how the world is forever changed. Now, I'll admit, after seeing doom and gloom in Avengers: Endgame, it would be better to see the benefits of the Blip that characters claim to have existed rather than told about them. But seeing how there were dozens of fans who made the audacious claim that Thanos was right, I don't consider it too far of a stretch to believe that the Flag Smashers could exist. Especially since the arguments that characters present do seem persuasive enough. It's only the actions that the group makes that derail any sense of the discussion. But in a good way...for the most part. But I’ll get into that later too.

The Reveal of the new “Captain America”: This was the dirtiest, sickening punch in the gut that the first episode could have ended on...and I love it!

John Walker: I often find the best antagonists are the ones I'm willing to psychologically analyze. That's John Walker in a nutshell. He is an arrogant ass who deserved to get slapped around when taking things too far. Yet, I always find myself coming back to those scenes where he seems conflicted about becoming the new Captain America. I get a sense that he genuinely wants to do the right thing and those moments when he asks if he is all but confirms it. John's problem is the constant support he's given by his friends. I'd argue that building his ego is the very reason why he gets frustrated so quickly by people denying him, as he often reacts like a toddler who throws a tantrum when a parent makes the "mistake" of saying “no.” This is why it's satisfying seeing people more powerful than John kick the s**t out of him because it results in his ego going through a well-needed deflation. Still, the constant frustrations he has for not being respected as the new Captain America makes his further descent into insanity all the more appealing to watch. Because him taking the super-soldier serum proves Dr. Erskine's theory is true: "Good becomes great. Bad becomes worse."

...And this is why the writers dropped the ball when trying to make John Walker redeemable. It's exceptional if that was the intention. After all, I did say there were glimpses of a man who wanted to become great, not worse. However, given what John does in later episodes, we're going to need more than glimpses to believe his switch from bad to good. Especially since his decision to set his anger aside to suddenly help people is a little too unbelievable for my tastes given how fast it happens. It's not an awful decision. It's just one that needed a bit more polish. I still find John Walker an incredible character regardless, but I don't blame people for being a tad more hesitant given how poorly paced his redemption arc came across as.

Readapting “Star-Spangled Man”: I adore this for two reasons.

Reason #1: It's a solid callback to Captain America: The First Avenger, which I will always stand by as my favorite Captain America movie.

Reason #2: It proves how much John Walker doesn't understand what it means to be Captain America. When Steve did this song and dance routine in his movie, he hated it. Better yet, Steve despised it. Because he wasn't helping anybody. He was just being a dancing monkey to appeal to civilians, and you see how much he regrets doing it with each show. For John, he relishes the whole thing, because of course, he would! John loves having his ego appealed to, and this routine is doing nothing but inflates it. It's a solid case of visual storytelling to prove to the audience just how disconnected John is from being Captain America. Steve or Sam wouldn't have done this, because being a hero is more than respect and adoration. It's about actually doing the right thing. A lesson that John desperately needs to learn.

Sam’s and Bucky’s bromance: You remember how I said that Bucky's dry sense of humor can be a comedic highlight? Well, that's only second rate to the times he and Sam bicker like an old married couple. Whether it's because of the writing, directing, or Makie’s and Stan's natural chemistry, seeing Sam and Bucky interact with each other is always a blast to see. And on top of being funny, there are these well-handled moments of drama shared between both characters that make their relationship convincing. It's why you can't have this series without Bucky, despite it so clearly being Sam's story that gets the more focus. Because without either character, we would miss out on some entertaining interactions that I wouldn't trade for anything else for this series.

Isaiah Bradely: Well, this character was a pleasant surprise. Although, "pleasant" might not be the right word because every scene with Isaiah is absolutely gut-wrenching in all the right ways. Carl Lumbly gives a phenomenal performance for a character that has been beaten down, with very little hope he has for any change that matters for his race. Plus, his backstory may not be as unbelievable as you might think. Between 1932-1972, America performed what is known as the Tuskegee Experiment. Scientists tested the effects of syphilis by injecting it into African Americans, telling them that they were receiving free health care when they didn't. So the idea that scientists tested super-soldier serums on African Americans, not knowing the dangerous effects, is not that far of a stretch. Neither is the knowledge that a black man was disrespected despite fighting hard for his country. If you researched African American history, you'll find that this type of horse s**t happens way more times than it should. It is heartbreaking, and Isaiah Bradley represents all of it. Thus making the little Isaiah exhibit in the Captain America museum all the more tear jerking just because of how sweet it is to see him get some semblance of a win. This level of discussion of what it means to be an African American is something I never expected with The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, but I greatly appreciate it nonetheless. What's even better is that these discussions don't end with Isaiah.

The discussions of racism: Again, this was something I didn't expect, but grateful for it nonetheless. I mean, I should have expected it given that one of the co-stars is black, but given how the story was about Sam being the new Captain America, I didn't think discussion of racism and racial injustice would come into play. Turns out that I was naive to think those things are separate. The burden of being a black Captain America is something that not many white people, including myself, consider a big deal. But looking at America's past and how others react to any African American in power, you realize that, yes, it is a big deal. Isaiah, and several real-life POCs in history, prove that America doesn't respond well to a person of color being better than the average white man. So it is easily reasonable to believe that there would be issues with a black man becoming a symbol of what America should be. Hell, I'm willing to bet that there were issues when this happened in the comics way back when. Not because of some bulls**t about how it doesn't fit with the character or story, but solely because they can't handle a black Captain America. And if you don't believe something like this wouldn't happen to someone like Sam Wilson, look back to that scene with the police who didn't know he was the Falcon. This crap happens every day, and it's The Falcon and the Winter Soldier that shines a light on it. Despite being something I didn't expect, the talks of racism are very much appreciated. And I'm as pale white as an introverted vampire. I can't even begin to comprehend how the African American community must feel about all of this.

Zemo: Who the f**k expected this guy to be one of the best things in the series?!

Seriously, from Captain America: Civil War, I wasn't too into Zemo as a character. I loved the idea that this powerless guy tore apart the world's greatest superheroes through intelligence and coercion. But his needlessly complicated plan and stale personality weren't enough to win me over. So when he returned, I expected to dread every minute of it. Little did I know that Zemo's comeback would skyrocket him into top-tier MCU villain territory!

Zemo is a character that, despite "helping" our heroes, still works on his own agenda. He might put them on the right path and occasionally assist in a fight, but only because he still won't stop at anything to make sure fewer super powered individuals are in the world. Because that's the thing about Zemo: His motivation was fine and understandable to a point, but his personality was flawed in Civil War. Here, I finally see how Zemo can work. Despite having no power, he uses his mind to look for any angle to control the situation, gaining an advantage even if it is for a short time. For instance, while he can't harm Sam or Bucky without risking his own life or jeopardizing his temporary freedom, he can still annoy the hell out of them. Like when he forced Sam into a situation where he had to drink literal snake juice. It's actually a ton of fun to watch, and I'm honestly glad that Zemo gets to live to see tomorrow. It means that he might make another return, and I can't wait to see what's in store for him in the future. Which is something I didn't think I'd say five years ago.

The Dora Milaje: It was actually pretty cool seeing these characters make an appearance, notably when they slapped around John Walker like it was nothing. Although, a part of me wonders that if Chadwick Boseman hadn't died last year, we would get to see T'Challa himself make an appearance. This lines up with the character, as I can see him dropping everything to hunt down the man who killed his father. Which would be just as awesome, if not slightly more so, to see. Still, we work with what life gives us. And what it gave are awesome cameos that make the MCU feel more inclusive about its characters rather than limiting them to their specific sections in the universe.

Walker killing the Flag Smasher: There is something so wrong with seeing that shield stained with blood. 'Cause here's the thing: Captain American can kill. He's a soldier. It's expected for a soldier to take lives for the sake of justice. What John Walker did isn't justice. It was vengeance. Vengeance that is fueled by anger rather than the need to do the right thing. Because when Captain America leads an army to kill the man who whipped out half the universe, that's fighting for a just cause. But when “Captain America” kills a man, the wrong man, for killing his best friend, that is an act of selfishness that no one would see your side on. And it was the final nail in the coffin that proves how John Walker does not deserve that shield.

Sam and Bucky vs. John: This might just be the best fight in the entire series. Not only is it so satisfying to see John Walker get everything that he deserves, but the whole thing was pretty intense to watch. After seeing what John can do with that shield, it makes moments when Sam and Bucky barely dodge his attacks with it all the more blood-rushing to see. Plus, Civil War's motif playing the background is another solid callback that fits well narratively since this is technically two superheroes fighting another superhero. It's an incredible scene that was worth the wait of four hour-long episodes to see.

Setting up Joaquín Torres as the new Falcon: I don't know if Marvel will follow through with this or even if they should. That being said, if they do, I'm all for it. Joaquín already seems like a pretty fun character, and his interactions with Sam show there's enough chemistry there to give Captain America a new wingman. I probably won't lose sleep if he doesn't become the new Falcon, but I'll still be excited regardless.

Madame Hydra: I know that she has an actual name, but I refuse to remember it due to how long and convoluted it is.

Anywho, we get a small glimpse of who Madame Hydra is as a character, but already I'm intrigued. She seems to have a fun personality, added by Julia Louis-Dreyfus' dry energy. Whether this is set up for the next big bad or just introducing a fun character, I'm interested. Madame Hydra was already a blast in the short amount of time she was in the show, and I can't wait to see what future installments have in store for her.

“Louisiana Hero”: Or as I like to call it, "Sam's Hero Theme." Because while this is the track that plays for the intro, it still shows up when Sam is training as the new Captain America. Not only is it insanely catchy, but I love that you hear a hint of the theme of Captain America: The First Avenger, yet "Louisiana Hero" is still very much its own thing. And that's another reason why I consider it Sam's motif because it fits precisely with the character. Sam is a person who has a hint of the good man that Steve was but still does his own thing when wearing the stars and stripes. Not a copy, but still heavily influenced by the original. So kudos to Henry Jackman for creating a musical piece that fits so well with a character far better than any other themes or motifs prevalent in the MCU. Because, let's be honest, there aren't that many.

Sam’s new suit: ...I mean, it looks cool. Kinda corny at times, sure, but points for comic accuracy.

Sam Carrying Karli: I mean, look at it.

This looks like something that should be painted and hung up on a wall due to how beautiful it looks.

Sam’s Speech: Two meaningful things are going on with this speech.

First, it proves once and for all that Sam Wilson is Captain America. He doesn't just fight for his country. He also believes the government that runs it should take accountability for any missteps before dealing with something worse than a person who took the term "rebellious teenager" into an extreme.

Second, it is so satisfying seeing Captain America tell government officials off about unjust treatment. Even if it does diddly-squat about anything in the real world, it's still a big moment that's effective because of the bulls**t that happens every day. It's far from an actual win, but it still feels good (I hope). And that still counts for something, right?

“We’ll need a U.S. Agent”: Credit to Louis-Dreyfus for saying a stupid cornball of a name and making it sound...not that.

WHAT I DISLIKE

Still running that Marvel Studios logo in every episode: It's still a nitpick, but its still annoying. It's alright if you want to use the full fanfare for the first episode, but at least shorten it for the rest of the season. Please? For the love of all that is holy?

The CGI: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier has some pretty...not great CGI. It's not as awful as the CG in the DC shows on the CW, but it is way too easy to tell what looks real and what doesn't. Failing to make CGI convincing has been a problem in the MCU for a while, as most of the time, characters barely look like they really exist in the scene. To me, I compare it to when Red vs. Blue switches between actual animation and Machinima. The CG models stick out like a sore thumb to the in-game models, but at least it looks cool. Because while I don't believe that I'm seeing an actual man with bird wings flying through a canyon while chasing helicopters...it still looks cool. Still, not many people would be as forgiving as I am to this type of thing, so it's onto the dislikes it goes.

The direction of the action: Now I want to clarify that I have no problems with the action itself. Some fight scenes are pretty cool while also added with some exciting set-pieces that kept me engaged the whole way through. It's just the direction of the action that I have issues with. The camera is always shaky with so many cuts that it's hard to follow half the time. It's an understandable technique to hide the stunt double's faces or to make it look like it really is the actual actor who's doing the fighting. The issue is that once you know a show like Daredevil exists, with its plethora of well-directed action, the cracks in the armor become much more noticeable for a series like The Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

Karli Morgenthau: Karli...frustrates me. Because on the one hand, Erin Kellyman does an impeccable job at portraying the heartbreak, frustrations, and determination that Karli has when fighting for her cause. On the other hand, Karli's cause is so layered with hypocrisy that it's hard to understand her position. She wants to prove how the world was better during the Blip, saying that everyone was happier then. So why do things like blow people up and kill “Captain America?” I get the latter. The guy's a d**k. But to prove to people how better things were, is death and destruction really the best choice to get that point across? I get the mentality of how people respond better to a harmful fist rather than a tranquil hand, but really, has that mentality ever worked out either? 

However, you could argue that her hypocrisy is fueled by the super-soldier serum, with the "good becomes great and bad becomes worse" theory that John all but confirms. Although, unlike John, we never got to see Karli pre-serum, so we don't know how much it really had affected her. With John, it's easy as many scenes indicate how close he was to snapping and murdering someone who disrespects him. We don't get that for Karli and are left to assume she was already crazy about thinking how intense violence can show the world how great things were during the Blip.

Then again, that could be the plan. Show how a person with the best intentions is ultimately wrong, given the lengths they go through to accomplish them. It worked for Thanos, so it should work here. And it would have...if not for Sam saying that Karli has a point. Because for the main hero to say that the villain is correct, you have to show them doing more good than bad. I understand the mentality Karli, and the Flag Smashers, have. But by doing nothing but committing crimes and violence, any point they have is discredited. Take note of the fact that nobody but nutcases on the internet says that Thanos has a point. Because he doesn't. He's a maniacal supervillain who does something so intense that nobody should be on his side. It's similar with Karli, but because we're apparently supposed to agree with her, she doesn't work as well.

...DO YOU SEE WHY SHE'S FRUSTRATING?! Because while I can see how she can be an incredible character, there are so many holes in how she works that I fail to appreciate any of it. And seeing how she's the main antagonist, a character who takes up a good chunk of the screen time, it's not a good thing that she tends to flounder more times than she should. I want to like Karli, but given everything that's wrong with her, I just can't.

Rewriting Sharon as the Power Broker: This is an intriguing idea met with a mixed execution. You see, I like the idea of a character who was once an ally becoming a villain, yet the heroes have no clue about it whatsoever. It creates solid dramatic irony, but only if done well. With Sharon, it's not really done well. It genuinely feels like her character was changed radically to give her this personality. A fun personality, I'll add, but one that comes across as really jarring when looking back at her previous appearance. Don't get me wrong, a character's current personality feeling so radically different from their previous one can work a treat, but only when we see them go through point A to point B. We're told about the s**t that went down with Sharon, but unlike understanding the mentality of the Flag Smashers, her personality change would have been more effective if we saw it. So while I like the idea of Sharon becoming another big bad in the future, I would have liked it more if we saw her decline into possible villainy.

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

By using my usual scoring system for MCU shows and movies, I'd give this season of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier a solid 8/10. There are problems. Quite a lot of problems. Hell, even the stuff I like comes with a fair share of issues. It's just a matter of asking yourself, "Do I like some parts more than I dislike them?" For me, I find myself enjoying much more than I didn't. It's not perfect by any means, but while it definitely falters at times, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier is a series that soars to great heights. You might not be in love with it, but you’ll have a helluva good time regardless.

Now if you don't excuse me, it's time I swap from one superhero series to another as I share my more in-depth thoughts on--

[darlingsdevil]

Of The Valley (Joel x Reader)

Chapter 7: Favors II

Summary: Life in Jackson is never easy. Consoling angsty teenagers, wading through the mysterious waters of Joel’s romance language and with a child of your own on the way? Life is about to get a lot harder

Masterlist

RDR2 Masterlist

Tag list (comment to be added or removed) @sidepuff @joelsheartache @fangirl-inthe-us @cowboyfrazer @scarletpines @mikah-writes @sleepylunarwolf @mr-robot-x @shybookdragon @heughan @writer-jamie @nelliecraine

A/N: It has come to my attention I confused a lot of you last chapter.. that was my intention lol. Romance will be coming soon, ish I guess. Finally some background knowledge on Mark though hahah.

Also, damnit tumblr, add a read more tab on mobile please. I hate flooding feeds X(

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! Seriously, reading comments make my day!

•••

Ellie was royally fucked. Her first reaction was panic, a fleeting feeling that made her want to run, because if you were at the tail end of Maria’s wrath there was no flight or fight — it was just flight.

She wanted to get away from town for one night. One night is all she asked. So she could have a good time with her girlfriend, get drunk and act like a stupid teenager. One night.

“Ellie! Get your ass down here right now!” Maria shouted from the floor below. There was no way Maria wouldn’t smell the pot on her.. she was done for.

Ellie took the walk of shame to the floor below, every step feeling like one closer to her casket. Dina and you followed behind her, wondering if you would both be in trouble.

“You’re in big trouble,” Maria began, her fury practically radiating off of her. You and Dina took a step back from the two, Maria was so focused on Ellie, you and Dina managed to avert her anger towards you two for a moment.

The last thing you wanted was for Ellie to get caught, you would have reminded her how stupid it was to leave and let Dina handle the rest, but it seemed Maria beat you to it.

“What’s our one rule in town, Ellie?” Maria questioned with a tight lipped sentence, her face stern and cold.

“Don’t leave unless you’re allowed to,” Ellie repeated, her eyes looking down.

“And what did you do tonight?”

“I broke that rule.”

Maria nodded. “Yes, you did. You’re getting taken off patrol for two months. Nine o’clock curfew from now until then,” She said sternly.

“What?! No! That’s bullshit! You can’t do that to me!” Ellie said in protest. You and Dina shifted uncomfortably behind her, wondering if you were on Maria’s next hit list.

“Yes, I can. You knew the rules and you broke them, end of discussion,” Maria reminded her. There was no winning against her.

“That’s such bullshit! You can’t take me off of patrol for two months!” Ellie continued.

“End of discussion. We’re going back to town,” Maria’s voice was deliberate, she began walking to the door, ignoring both you and Dina.

You were surprised she found Ellie, though she did mention she was waiting for Ellie to come home last night. Was it possible she was waiting that entire time for her? It was something Maria would do. Two months seemed like a harsh punishment, but Ellie did break the main rule of Jackson.

Seeing Maria reminded you of your little secret that would become not so little in a few months. When was the right time to tell her? It seemed like never, like the pregnancy was a premonition, like it hadn’t even happened yet. You couldn’t think about that now.

Ellie reluctantly began following the three of you after a few moments of shock. Maria was waiting by the door for you, when Ellie and Dina made it through the door, Maria stopped you.

“You two stay out here for a second. Don’t run off either,” She looked at the two of them standing in the doorway, they took a step back and she closed the door on them, leaving you in the lake house with Maria.

Maria pinched the bridge of her nose and looked down at the ground before sighing.

“Any explanation as to why you’re out here?” She asked, looking up at you.

“Dina couldn’t find Ellie so we snuck out to find her,” You shrugged, it was the truth.

“You told me you weren’t going outside of Jackson anymore.”

“I did it yesterday, I figured I could do it once more today. I didn’t want Dina going out here alone,” You explained.

“So if I were to assign you to patrols, you would be fine again?”

Your eyes widened, “No. I don’t want to patrol ever again. I’m fine with being outside of Jackson, I just don’t want to have the job of killing things outside of it anymore.” You put your hands up in defense.

“We’ll talk more about this in town, we need to get Ellie home first.”

•••

Maria rounded up all the teenagers after that, they all got put under curfew too, Cat included. Cat stayed cautiously away from both Dina and Ellie.

The walk home was brutally silent, and uncomfortable. You knew all the drunken teenagers were terrified of the rest of their punishment, getting yelled at by their parents and being the laughing stock of town for a few days. Rarely anyone got caught sneaking out.

The night guards at top of the watchtowers let the group in. Maria stopped them all and told them they needed to see her first thing in the morning at the Courthouse so they could be dealt with. The group dispersed after that. You could still seem them shaking in fear as they walked away.

“Dina, you can go home now. Ellie, I’m taking you home. I’ll swing by your house after, Y/N,” Maria said sternly. Ellie stood next to her awkwardly. Dina nodded and left, slipping you Mark’s gun as she left. Ellie was upset and more worried about Joel finding out. Everything that could have gone wrong tonight did go wrong, Cat was mad at her, Dina probably too, and Maria found out she snuck out. Tonight was a mess.

Maria took Ellie home, the air was tense and uncomfortable. Ellie could only focus on the leaves crunching under her feet as she passed through the town with Maria. Halloween was right around the corner, it was apparent too. Houses were decorated, some even had pumpkins outside, none carved however. No one was up it seemed, Joel went to bed early most nights, Ellie didn’t have to worry about being caught by him just yet. Even with the lights out in most houses, Jackson had a homely feel to it, it felt lived in, which it was.

“I’m disappointed in you, Ellie,” Maria said to her quietly as they passed through a neighborhood to Joel’s home.

Ellie remained silent, her brow furrowed as Maria continued.

“You should have never gone out there, you know the risks firsthand, and maybe some of those other kids don’t understand it quite well but I know for a fact you do.”

“Infected aren’t even spotted this close to town ever,” Ellie replied with defiance in her voice.

“A lake and drunk teenagers do not mix. There are wild animals out there too, many things could have happened, you’re lucky none of you got hurt,” Maria said to the teenager.

“No one got hurt.”

“You’re right no one did. Doesn’t mean because it didn’t happen this time doesn’t mean it won’t happen the next.”

“No one has gotten hurt outside of Jackson in a long time.”

Maria knew that wasn’t true, Mark was killed only a few months ago.

Maria scoffed, they reached the outside of Joel’s house, just as Ellie suspected, the lights were off. She was relieved to avert Joel’s disappointment towards her for at least a few hours. Ellie opened the gate to the backyard.

“We’re talking in the morning when you’re sober. And change your clothes, take a shower, you smell like a skunk.”

Ellie shut the gate, thudding as it closed.

•••

You managed to make it into your house quietly, it looked like no one was awake on your street. Your house was silent as usual. You clicked on the porch light as you hung your coat up, putting yours and Mark’s gun on the coffee table, you were glad you didn’t have to use it. You never wanted to use a gun again.

It was nice being home, you hoped no one would come looking for you for anymore favors tonight. Maria was still going to swing by but you figured she would give Ellie an earful first.

You took Mark’s dog tags off and fiddled them in your hand. He never took them off, you figured he would have been buried with them, yet you were glad Maria managed to save them for you. It was a reminder of who he was, a part of him that would always be with you.

Lane

Mark O.

Denver QZ

A Positive

Mark stood at the scene of the explosion. A ringing in his ears he had never heard before. It wasn’t chaotic anymore, there was no screaming, no wails of anguish, just soldiers barking orders at dazed civilians. The soldiers in Denver were used to this sort of resistance, it was not uncommon for an attack at a checkpoint. There was only two squads sent in for backup. Two squads. Three soldiers dead and two civilians.

Mark could barely even comprehend what he was seeing, like he was looking at a scene from a movie. But the air was too thick with smoke, the air stunk of gunpowder and carnage. This was no movie.

He sat on a curb, watching as the group in front of him did damage control. He watched as the bodies were taken away. He watched and did nothing. There was nothing he could do. The rest of the FEDRA soldiers had pulled him away from the checkpoint and sat him down on the curb like some child.

He couldn’t even find his older brother, only his little sister, choking out his name. He held her as she died, her eyes clouding and a gaping wound coming out of the back of her head. Mark had never felt such shock in his life, one second he was walking down the street to meet her and his brother and the next it was all in flames. He couldn’t see his brother, he couldn’t find whatever remained of him even as he frantically searched through the debris. The smoke was hurting his lungs, it was hard to breathe.

“Don’t you dare fucking die on me, Emily,” Mark shouted at her, clutching the dying girl in his arms. She was young, barely out of boarding school. There was so much blood.. blood that would stain his hands forever, his first glimpse into the true pain of this world. Her blood was slippery and warm, it got all over her clothes. She was wearing the purple shirt with a smiley face Mark worked so hard to find..

“Emmy? Emmy? No, no you’re not dying!” He repeated, shaking her. The blood kept pooling, her eyes were becoming shrouded in fog as she danced on the thin line of life and death.“Wake up, Emily.. you have to wake up,” He trailed off, a realization hitting him. His sister was dead. He could see her laughing and waving to her moments before, her braids bouncing behind her. Mark’s older brother standing next to her.

“No, no, no,” He trembled, grasping her purple shirt.. it was bloodied and dirty now. It was completely ruined.

“Luke!” He shouted, getting up quickly to find his brother. He could barely see through the smoke.. groups of people pushing to get away from the crowded checkpoint. He split through the crowd, shouting his brother's name the entire time. People shoved and pushed as his world crumbled to pieces.

There was no shout of his name in return. Only frantic people pushing him out of their way, their faces going by in blurs as he scanned the crowd for Luke. The smoke was beginning to clear at least.

Luke was standing next to Emily.. Luke was standing next to her… Luke was closer to where the explosion went off.

Mark immediately turned around, running towards where Emily was.

“Luke!” He shouted louder now, desperation in his voice. His heart thrumming so loudly in his chest he felt like it would burst.

There was no response. Only the distant rumble of trucks racing towards the checkpoint, the sound of debris settling and fires cracking. The flames danced around him, concrete and steel covering the ground, dust in the air.

“Fuck!” He mumbled breathlessly, gasping for air as his body trembled, being unable to find his older brother. The silence was disheartening, he knew the truth. Luke was closer to the blast.. and even Emily hadn’t made it. His world had unraveled so quickly, he was going to the checkpoint to meet up with his brother and sister on his arrival back home from outer wall duty, his first day off in months, he was looking forward to it, they all were. They were inviting friends over for a small party, Emily had even made a cake.

But now Luke was dead. Emily was dead. His respected, quiet older brother, his fun and innocent little sister. He knew exactly what group did this. They were going to wish he had been killed in that blast too.

•••

You opened the door for Maria, she did not look happy.

“I appreciate you looking for Ellie, but you should have told me first,” She said as you let her in, leading her to the couch.

“I didn’t want her getting in trouble with you or Joel.. I figured she could have a little time off for now,” You replied. Ellie needed it.

Maria nodded, “I’m letting Joel know in the morning. He is not going to be happy with her. But what if she had gotten into trouble out there? Could you have handled that again?”

You weren’t sure of that answer, but you would have defended yourself. “I had Dina with me.”

“You and Dina alone could not have taken on a group of hunters or infected.”

“I know,” You said softly.

“So why did you agree to go with her?” Maria asked. You knew she would have had questions, probably grilling you on going back to patrol again.

“I couldn’t let Dina go by herself, like I said. I didn’t want either of them getting caught, clearly it didn’t work,” You sighed, leaning back into the couch.

“Ellie should never have gone out there,” Maria remarked with disappointment.

“Teenagers do it all the time.. you need to be less harsh on her.” You owed Ellie a favor or two.

“She needs to be reminded of our rules in town and be more respectful,” Maria replied.

“But two months is a lot.. and in truth she was drunk.. probably high too, you shouldn’t punish her for that long. I think Ellie learned her lesson tonight, she’s just upset right now,” You negotiated. Regardless of whether Ellie had learned her lesson or not, she didn’t deserve that long of a punishment. She deserved a long scolding and a good reminder of what her actions could cause — punishment like that was only going to cause more rebellion.

“I’ll rethink. For your sake. Maybe I’ll let Joel handle her and give her the punishment the rest of the teenagers are getting.”

Telling Joel was a given. You couldn’t negotiate that. It wasn’t the best for her but Joel deserved to know. At least now that Ellie had been caught.

“Could you go back outside Jackson again?” She said after a few seconds of silence, her eyes filled with curiosity.

“I am. I’m going with Joel to the lake in a few days. But I’m not doing patrols again.” Though Joel owed you a trip back to the lake, it would be hypocritical of you to return.

“We need you back on patrols,” Maria confessed.

“I’m not going on patrols anymore,” You replied firmly.

“You know why,” You reminded her.

“Jackson needs you, we need you,” She repeated, taking your hands and placing hers on top of yours.

“You have been doing fine without me,” You said.

“We really need you.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t mean to tell you this now.. but I didn’t mean to keep this from you either,” She began with a sigh, looking away from you. You shifted in your spot, wondering what she was going to tell you.

“There's a horde of infected coming our way, they’re due to hit us in December. Jackson needs you for the fight, to lead the sniping group,” She said determinedly, trying her damndest to convince you.

A horde? There was no way you could deal with fighting a horde, you could barely take out a pack of infected these days without panicking, let alone lead others on how to shoot. You couldn’t risk danger anymore, you weren’t only protecting yourself, but the life of the child growing inside of you. A horde seemed terrifying, most of Jackson hadn’t been outside the walls in years, let alone seen infected. But people would bear arms and fight, they would protect the town if it was the last thing they could do. People would die, people would get hurt, but the town would be safe. The children would be safe. Large groups of hunters occasionally tried to wreak havoc to the town, those who could fight always would, and Jackson won every single time. They had yet to be beaten.

“I can’t.”

Maria expected that response, “I know you don’t want to. I know it reminds you of what happened to Mark, but you have to move on. You’re Jackson’s best shot, we need you the most. I don’t trust anyone on this job more than you.”

“Look, I went on your little crusade yesterday, I did what I had to do and I told you I’m done,” You said harshly, getting up from the couch and going to the kitchen.

Maria followed you, “Mark would have wanted you to help us. To protect the town,” She pressed.

You groaned and began filling up a kettle with water from your water purifier next to the sink.

“Well Mark isn’t here,” You snapped back, placing the kettle on the stove and turning it on.

“I know you don’t want to do this. I know you have your reasons, but I promise you if you do this I’ll never put you on another patrol again. All of Jackson will be indebted to you.”

You couldn’t let Maria try to coax you into returning.. there was a reason you couldn’t do this anymore, a reason that didn’t relate to Mark’s death.

“I’m pregnant.” You stopped and looked at your friend.

Her eyes widened, she was silent, thinking of what there was possibly to say.

“I can’t do patrols anymore because I’m pregnant,” You repeated, your voice solemn.

“How long have you known?” She took a step closer to you. She would have to figure out a Plan B for the horde situation now, discuss with Tommy in the morning, talk to the council.

“Hours. Only a couple of hours.” You leaned against the counter, listening to the stove hum with heat. Maria was relieved to hear that, but you had still took a risk when you looked for Ellie.

“Are you going to keep it?” She asked, her face serious.

You nodded, biting your lip. You had already decided that, had it been a few weeks earlier your choice may have been different.. but you had already made up your mind now.

“Is it-” She began, you quickly cut her off.

“Mark’s,” You replied softly,, staring at the kettle.

“Well that’s a relief, I was afraid I was going to be an aunt,” She laughed dryly.

“I just.. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m not ready to raise a child, especially not without Mark around.. he would be better at this than I would,” You confessed, trying to blink away tears that snuck up on you.

Maria quickly pulled you into a hug. “I know, honey. I think parenting sneaks up on a lot of people,” She said soothingly. You let your tears fall onto her shoulder.

It was all terrifying.. the thought of a child being born into a world as cruel as this one. The thought you being a mother alone, without Mark there to guide you. He would have been thrilled to hear the news.. having a son or daughter.

“I don’t think I can do this alone,” You sobbed gently into her shoulder, your words getting caught in your throat.

“You won’t be alone, I promise you there are people here who will help you.” She rubbed your back gently. There were people there to help you, there was a doctor’s office with trained midwives, other single parents who would understand you, a daycare with teacher’s who would give your child an education, and most of all a family who would support you no matter what. You were foolish to think Maria would be anything less than supportive.

“This is starting to sound less and less daunting,” You laughed through the tears, pulling away from Maria.

“Well, we’ll discuss more in the morning then. It’s getting late and I know you start work early,” She said. You looked over at the window, if you fell asleep within the hour you would at least get some decent rest before work.

“You’re right. It is late. I hope you get the situation figured out with the teenagers.”

“I will. I’ll make sure to get it all sorted out.” She nodded, you followed her to the door, opening it for her.

“And, could you please not tell anyone about me being pregnant? I think I’d like to keep it as quiet as possible for awhile,” You asked, your voice wavering with a hint of nervousness in it. You already had enough to talk about with enough people, you didn’t need anything else on your plate for awhile.

“I won’t.”

“Thank you for saving Mark’s dog tags for me by the way,” You mentioned.

“I’m glad you found them,” She smiled.

•••

Ellie was beyond angry, disappointed and embarrassed. Not only had she been caught in bed with her girlfriend by her best friend, now they were both mad at her and at eachother. Maria had caught the group which was even more humiliating, being found by the head of Jackson half drunk and half high. Tonight was a wreck.

All she asked for was one night, one night where she could party and do dumb teenager things and worry about her actions later. She wanted to get away from Jackson and most importantly Joel.

She didn’t want to worry about Joel lying to her, beating around the bush around what truly happened in Salt Lake all those years ago. She needed to know the truth, and Joel would never give it to her. She needed to find it out for herself. Whether that be in a month or a year, or even ten. Ellie would find out the truth, and she knew whatever she found she would not like.

Joel would yell at her in the morning, he would tell her how stupid she was for doing that and give her, his most disappointed face he could muster. Joel needed to stay in his own lane now, Ellie wasn’t a little girl anymore who needed protecting.

But Maria or you would tell him regardless, in the morning she would be officially off of patrol for two months and on a curfew. She would have to apologize to both Dina and Cat and get them to stop arguing. She would have to listen to Joel be the disappointed father figure. She would have to eventually listen to you give her some half assed explanation of why you dodged her for three months.

Ellie Williams was tired of apologies and scoldings. Something she was awfully getting used to.

•••

[not-from-the-absence-of-violence]

You'd break your heart to make it bigger, so why not crack your skull when the mind swells

“Something's not right about what I'm doing but I'm still doing it-- living in the worst parts, ruining myself. My inner life is a sheet of black glass.” ~Richard Siken

Moments in Leenik Geelo's life after losing his brother.

a/n: love that my first campaign star wars fic is just pure leenik geelo angst, i dedicate this one to @leenik-matagot thank u and also ur welcome <3 >:) 

content warnings for: canon typical character death and violence, suicidal thoughts, refrences to self harm, ptsd, trauma and just general grief and depression.

It’s the emptiness he doesn’t expect. When they were running out of the planet the numb shock passing into the unrelenting reality of the loss he had just suffered.

There is that night where neither him or Chartreuse say anything and it felt like his chest was going to collapse into itself. It wasn’t real, not quite yet but the grief that threatens to consume him whole had already set in. it was like a gaping open wound in his chest. Like shards of glass. Like he was dying, following Tony into an early grave.

Those days blur together but he remembers eventually when the pain wouldn’t stop, he remembers cristal clear the quiet desperate prayer he sent out to the stars he and his brother had once travelled together.

Make it stop. He begged. I will do anything to stop feeling like this someone, anyone, please make it stop, make it stop, make it-

Be careful what you wish for, they say, because eventually it did, and it left the broken being that had once been Nicky Geelo.

There was nothing, he hadn’t thought it possible before to feel nothing but it was there. He was but an empty black hole. What was he now, without his grief and pain.

Nothing matters then, when the world stops being something you experience, he stared blankly at the wall. A million thoughts hung around his head.

It was your fault. It should have been you. You have always been this useless. What are you now? What have you ever been?-

They droned on, it was like listening to static, they were there, they were his thoughts and he believed them, but there was no emotion tied to it. He wants it back, the overwhelming despair, the anger burning in his veins, the quiet background sorrow that settles into your bones.

The first time Leenik Geelo gets captured on purpose he doesn’t plan on coming out of it.

He had picked up doing jobs again because he had to, life didn’t stop even if it felt like it should, the loss of Venton was nothing on the greater galaxy, even if to Leenik it felt like the stars weren’t allowed to shine without him.

It isn’t quite like he consciously plans on getting shot, it’s just that he goes in with a half-baked plan, no plan B, no weapons and not really sure when the last time he ate was.

And sure maybe when they are marching him to the brig, blasters trained on him part of him wonders why it would be bad if they just fired.

It’s not quite wanting to die, as much as it is not seeing the point in living. As much as that the moment they truly are about to shoot him his fear finally kicks in and he feels awake for the first time in months.

How he gets out of that one he doesn’t know, it's like all the luck in the galaxy follows him when he doesn’t want it.

He stands there and picks at his suction cups absentmindedly until one starts to bleed, he stares at the blood dripping from his finger like it contains the answers to everything.

-

He isn’t prepared for the wrath that comes next, the vast nothing in his chest comes and goes but the only other thing he is made of these days seems anger.

It is directed at everything and nothing, his brother's killer, Traxx, the ceiling fan that is too loud, himself.He who couldn't help, he had insisted to take on a job they shouldn't have, he should have been the one to fall in Ventons place.

The first time he stuns himself he can almost convince himself it's an accident. He is in fact, shooting at the fan, but who is to say whether he knew that the laser would bounce of it and hit him in the chest.

There is a flash of blinding agony and then a final blissful nothing. He wakes up very soon after, with a pounding headache, dizzy and miserable.

He knows very well he should not do that again, he stares at his blaster and feels some sickening kind of fear of himself. He tries to avoid using a blaster for a while but it doesn't last long.

It's always an accident though, and usually when it happens people laugh at the guy who just got himself stunned.

That's good he thinks making people laugh.

-

Leenik Geelo doesn't know the name of the first truly innocent person that he kills.

Usually there is some sort of justification for it, in his mind at least.

At some point he is at a shoot out and he very well knows he could aim away from the civilians that have nothing to do with it.

He doesn't.

There he is met with sickening guilt, and an even worse sense of perverted glee.

He sees the disappointed face of his brother every time he closes his eyes.

The moment he is alone that afternoon he breaks down crying, falling to the floor of some ship.

What have you become Nicky?

He doesn't know. He doesn't know.  

-

It's Venton who should have lived, and so he starts dressing the part. it's easy to pass off the wig and the eye patch as simple eccentricities, people find it odd, people laugh.

Good. He thinks, it's almost better to not be taken seriously, no one seeing under the surface.

So easy some days to almost believe it's Tony who is staring back at him in the mirror. That he’s here with him at least. He doesn't know how to be himself anymore.

One day he simply forgets the eyepatch, he catches a glimpse in the mirror and panics. True awful panic, the one that causes you to stop breathing, your chest to hurt, your mind to start racing.

"I need to go get it," he chokes out.

"Jeez man, we have a job to do."

He is already running back already, his hands in fists shaking as he tries not to break into sobs in the middle of the busy street.

-

It is odd in many ways how much Venton had been to him. His brother, his work partner, his only connection to his home he had left behind.

Leenik isn’t good at planning, he isn’t very strong or agile or-

Together they were invincible and alone he’s just...him.

He isn’t sure whether he misses Rodea or his brother sometimes, tangled up together in a web of nostalgia.

There is so little that is left from the person he used to be now.

-

What exactly makes memories flood him like rivers is truly awful arbitrary, he hates it.

And like anything he hates inside himself, he fights it like a caged animal. He is holding onto the shards of himself so tightly, cutting his fingers with it, he is walking on his own broken glass.

It’s a perfectly unremarkable day on the Mynock, he struggles to open a container.

"You should work out more, Leenik."

He stares at a fixed point on the wall, he feels it, the helplessness, his brothers hand in his, he feels the way he can't pull them up because he isn't strong enough, good enough, such a failure-

"Leenik? You okay there buddy?"

Leenik snaps out of it, clearly looking at his surroundings.

"I am just self conscious about my strength alright," he says as he bats away Bacta's hand " Don't bring it up again."

Bacta looks vaguely worried but drops it, used to his odd outburst by now. Leenik goes to look outside at the stars that were supposed to be theirs.

-

Sleep and Leenik are at war. Every night is a battle.

The weeks, months even after he couldn't sleep. He couldn't without waking up to nightmares of every kind and every night he saw his brother die because of him in seemingly increasingly gruesome ways.

Not sleeping made being awake worse, made the colours sharper and the noise louder, made his already weak grasp on reality weaker. He heard Venton everywhere, knowing it wasn't him, his own head driving him mad.

The only sleep he knew was collapsing from exhaustion.

Eventually time passed and no matter how much Leenik picked at it the wound healed somewhat and sometimes he slept.

Nightmares were still common enough for him to be anxious every time bed time approached. So he read, indulged in the calming familiar anxiety repetitive formulaic fiction brought.

Sometimes he had good dreams about Venton, of beautiful summers in Rodea, about the best bounties they had brought in, soft quiet scenes of love they deserved to have.

He woke up feeling the emptiness worse those days, not being able to even look at himself in the mirror.

-

There is something so comfortable in not being him. Leenik picks up a million hobbies and drops them just as soon but dressing up he might just keep.

He’s good at it, it’s fun, most importantly for the rest of the crew, it's useful.

And if it also means that he gets to look into the mirror without having to bear his own face looking back at him, even better.

-

He falls into the same patterns over and over and over again. He can’t stop, like a derailed train, and it’s always him left to pick up the pieces of his mess.

Like pushing boulders uphill it soon starts to feel tedious, pointless, if you have to do it again every time.

He doesn’t know who he is without anymore, doesn’t know how to be whole, he doesn’t want to know.

It feels like he is a spectator in his own life as he sees himself grimly fall back into ruining his life in both small and big ways.

It’s too hard to mend it, he doesn’t know how to sow.

-

He had never thought of having children really, every day he didn't quite believe he was going to survive the week, much less enough to form a family.

The vornskr gets attached to him so quickly, it needs him, like Leenik once needed his brother.

So he names him Tony, the name feels like rubbing salt in the wound, something that is almost like comfort for him now.

I'll protect you he thinks,  even if I couldn't protect him.

-

He stares at the place where his arm used to be.

He can see it so vividly in front of him, Tony's arm a bloody mess dangling making it unable for him to pull himself up. He sees his own hand, the one he doesn't have anymore, not strong enough to pull him up either.

He stares at his arm and sits on the floor crying. The noise of the battle fading away to the background

Maybe I deserve this one.

-

Leenik Geelo has a family now, crammed into a small spaceship, full of unspoken issues and painful tension.

He holds on to it lightly, or pretends to.

The only way Leenik knows how to hold on is so tight it's suffocating, so loud it hurts, so pleading it is pathetic. He overcompensates in the other direction constantly, to the point where neither he nor the people he now loves know whether he cares about them or not.

He looks onto Tamlin who lost his mother, so small, so fragile. Now his responsibility too. Maybe he doesn't know quite yet what's to come for him, all the small ways loss cracks you. He is afraid of Tamlin in the same way he is afraid of his own true reflection. And as afraid as anyone is of his own children.

"What's the name of the kid again?" he asks and he can almost convince himself he doesn't know.

So many masks to Leenik Geelo, his name has lost meaning.

-

Everyone has a breaking point and eventually Leenik reaches his. As he falls to the floor crying, there are people there this time. To listen, to hug him, to comfort him. To share in his pain and not flinch as they see the worst parts of him. To hold his hand and pull him up as he starts the arduous climb from rock bottom.

He isn’t alone amongst the vast expanse of space anymore.

-

Time passes and loss never truly gets easier, but eventually one has to heal. Eventually he grows up and knows his brother wouldn't want this for him. More importantly he doesn't want this, not anymore.

Rebuilding yourself is a never ending process that often leads to hallways you had forgotten about, it's painful and thankless and while in it it never feels worth it. But it is, oh it is, when he is able to talk about Tony again and it doesn't feel like his throat is full of glass. When people can call him Nicky and it brings only the slightest twinge of melancholy, like pressure on a sore bruise. When he can go to Rodea again, a planet he had once thought he would never be able to bear to return.

Sometimes he still gets cut on his own shards, but this time he lets someone help mend it.

He can lay amongst the trees and for the first time lay his brother to rest in his mind.

"Goodbye Tony," he says, looking onto the millions of planets and galaxies above him, in wonder of how small he is compared to it all.

"I miss you." he says because it's true, he will never stop missing who had once felt like an infinite constant in his life.

"I hope you are well amongst the stars."

[lunadensmidnightprowl]

Let Trouble Lie - CH 3

Ƴ𝕆𝓤'v𝐄  Ⓖ𝐎𝐭  𝐌ｅ  я𝔲ⓝη𝐈𝓝𝕘  𝐆ᵒ𝓲ηg  𝕆𝐮𝕥  𝑜𝐟  𝕞ч  𝕞𝒾𝕟Đ

✣●✣

Of course things happen when you don't want them to, a jinx almost.  For me that's no surprise based on my history.  Almost every time I dare venture outside, for whatever reason whether groceries or I needed some fresh air, an akuma strikes when I'm far away from safety.

I use to be fine with that, as long as I had my Thinaire costume I could go exploit the lax security at some shop, but now Thinaire was expected on the scene, I wasn't too pleased.  Nevertheless, an opportunity was an opportunity and if I didn't take it there would probably be barely any food for me and Clover next week.  Changing quickly in a back alley, I whipped out and kept to the shadows, heading off to find another place.

Those little accessory shops were my main target, mostly because I can cram a lot of their inventory into my backpack and they bring in big bucks.  There wasn't else much to it, other stores didn't seem to be that much of a deal, and a bank was too big of one.  My operation is simple, pick locks, get in, blast the security cameras with paintballs, steal the stuff, then get out.  That's the way I do things, and it works for me.

When I finally got to the place I was aiming for, the door was locked.  I took out a hairpin and set to the simple task of picking the lock, done in seconds I slipped in before someone should see me.  That first obstacle should have been a clue that people knew I would come at some point, but I was too much in a frenzy to care at that point.

Making my way over to one of the cases, I started to pick the lock but almost immediately an alarm went off.  That had never happened before!  I only gave myself two seconds to fine the alarm but I couldn't in the commotion, I had to flee.  

Police sirens were hurtling down the street to the store when I burst out, sprinting down the sidewalk.  My bad luck was on a roll today as those magic ladybugs swept through the city, Ladybug and Chat Noir would be on the hem of my flowing clothes in no time at all.  Sure enough when I looked back, they were now tailing me along with 3 police cars, directed to my location by civilians pointing me out.

I hadn't realized I had run out into the open until I was looking for alley only for there to be none.  Turning around I realized I would be stared down by law enforcement who were going to be on me in mere seconds.  I wanted to disappear right there and then, it was all I had left to do, so I vanished.

The cars came squealing to a stop, officers piling out of them to weakly surround the area.  The two superheroes had appeared beside them, looking around wearily.

"They vanished!" Lieutenant Roger yelled in frustration.  "How are we supposed to catch them?"

"Search the area!" Ladybug shouted, storming in without a worry and every spot on her earrings, "They couldn't have gotten far!  Their name may be Thinaire but they could be anything but, only invisible to us."

I raised my eyebrow in question at her, trying to avoid the officers combing the area for my figure, was she really that good at guessing? Her luck I guess.

Either way, with both the superheroes and the police officers to deal with, I knew I wouldn't be able to slip away unnoticed even if they couldn't see me.  One way or another, I would be spotted, but this time I would get them.

The officer closest to me was my target, I snuck quietly up until I was basically in front him, then with all my strength, I punched the guy straight in the jaw.  He went stumbling back before he landed on the ground with a loud thud, all attention was on me now, or more accurately, where thin air just punched someone.

"Thinaire's over there!" Ladybug shouted, reaching for her yoyo as she ran in my direction.

I bolted away, heading back for the buildings where I could lose them, only to hear a high pitched zipping noise coming through the air.  The heroine's yoyo string flew over my head, coming down at a rate I would run right into it if I continued to sprint.  At the last second, I dropped down and slid to avoid it, the toy's cord landing on my shoulder and sliding down my arm to lay uselessly on the ground.  Now having escaped the weapon, I popped up again and kept going, freedom was in reach.

Everyone was in pursuit of me now, how had someone who was never noticed before now getting so much attention?  But they couldn't catch me, I was gone in the blink of an eye.

From my hiding place I watched the police cars carrying the frustrated officers back to wherever they had come from, the super duo timing out to get back to their civilian lives.  Today had been a lesson for me, things had changed and now I had to change with it.

✣●✣

I had considered working at night before, but that had all seemed too cliche and the akuma attacks gave me an advantage.  But the only night time akumas I could remember were Sandboy and Sapotis, I wouldn't want to go through Sandboy ever again, hearing my parents disappointed voices as they shamed me for killing them was a nightmare I didn't want to relive.

But what other choice did I have?  People knew to look out for me in the day, maybe not entirely certain WHAT to look out for, but anything suspicious.  If I started working late then I would at least be under the cover of darkness, my costume helping me blend into the shadows.  Either way, the security I had to go through would not get any easier for a long time.

So instead of being bored out of my mind with Clover, I fell asleep mid afternoon so I would be awake later that evening, ready for the hunt.

The lack of daylight did prove helpful as I whipped around corners and through alleys, and there were less people there to get a glimpse of me in general.  Though whatever the time of day, I would always go for the jewelry shops, I couldn't afford less, but I couldn't achieve more.

Instead of the door this time, I picked the lock on a window and snuck in that way, sure it might hinder a hasty escape but it wouldn't arouse as much suspicion as an opened door.  I took out the security cameras with my small paintball gun as usual, but then found the box for the security system and cut it out, disabling all other alarms.  This time I had to do it, people had gotten smart about doing alarms if my recent escape was any clue.

Without the alarms going off as I picked open the cases, things went smoothly and I was almost done emptying them all when I spotted movement across the street.  Something had just gone over the space between rooftops, I held my gaze there long enough to see something else move over the gap, the pointed ears and tail lashing out behind it alerted me it was Chat Noir.  So that first thing must have have been Ladybug... Oh shit, they must be doing a patrol.

I held incredibly still as I waited for them to go farther down the street, not wanting to draw the feline eyes equipped with night vision that one of the superheroes had.  Luck never was most favorable to me, the alley cat turned his head straight in my direction, the glowing green eyes staring me down.  In shock I jumped a little, my glowing amber eyes had more night vision than an average human eye, though not as feral looking as Chat's, were able to see the determined expression dance across his face.

In one quick motion, I zipped up my almost full backpack and swept it up onto my shoulders, leaping out of the window I came in.  Once on the street I ran, only glancing back one time to find glowing eyes met glowing eyes as Chat Noir came after me in pursuit.  Seriously, these people had me running, going out of my mind just to get away with what I needed to survive.

Something grabbed my ankle and I gave an instinctive shriek of fury as it tugged me down.  I struggled to my feet but something restrained me, oh dammit that fleabag had gotten me!

"I finally caught you," he gasped in triumph, still trying to catch his breath.

"Like hell you did," I snarled before making my move.  I elbowed his gut as hard as I could, hoping to take him by surprise enough so he would release me, he actually did.  Once free I did my best at an attempt of a roundhouse kick to his side, he made to grab my ankle again but I had already made contact and was now dashing away while the cat was still slightly winded.  I could hear his footsteps coming after me again but I kept running.

Before fading away...

✣●✣

"Now why ya so outta breath girl?" Lenny asked me.

I huffed and puffed, trying to recover my breath from the mad sprint I did on the way to the pawn shop.  Holding up a finger to say that I would respond in a minute, I continued to breathe heavily.

"Better question," Lenny went on, "Why ya here in da middle of da damn night!  I was just 'bout to close up when ya came barreling in."

"Sorry," I huffed, "Ran here *pant* just now *pant* from a *pant* mission."

"Yeah, I kinda figured," Lenny murmured, examining the haul I had brought in, "Still don't answer me second question."

Finally regaining my breath, I spoke normally, "I was trying to work under the cover of darkness.  Didn't work that well because the supers were doing a patrol in my area then, the cat would have gotten me if I hadn't known a few close contact moves."

"Ya really got ta be more careful Miky," he said, eyeing a brooch I had snatched.

"I was," I protested, "Went through a window, fully disabled security, remained motionless when I had to so I wouldn't draw eyes..."

"Ya gonna run yaself right into the ground."

[thewritewolf]

Two For Two Chapter 18: Close Call

A team of four enemies might be a little too much for our heroes to handle... especially with the elemental powers each of them possess.

@ladynoirjuly2020

Enjoy!

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Read on Ao3

“Okay, Hawkmoth is definitely getting some extra power somehow,” Dragonbug said as she did her best to hold off what appeared to be a person made out of fire and a living whirlwind.

It was a frustrating combination - the whirlwind was scattering embers from the fire akuma, leading to a blaze that was slowly spreading across her city. A glance at the scene around her - all fire and smoke and heat haze - was enough to make her grateful once again for her miraculous cure. Soon enough, neither of them would be able to breath in this arena, let alone fight in it.

“Four akumas seems like an awful lot,” Snake Noir replied as he tried to stay ahead of two more enemies. “Do you think he’s been doing his homework? Or did he just find a new magic crystal or something in his cereal box?”

One of his opponents was similar to Stoneheart in that it looked like a person made out of boulders. The main differences were that this one was more the size of a large person rather than a giant, and it lacked a face. The other looked like a rolling tidal wave with a giant human face in the seafoam. As much as she would hope the water would cancel out the fire, it was doing a great job avoiding being helpful, instead constantly striving to slam into her partner.

“Only two of them are akumas,” Dragonbug corrected, using her yoyo shield to block a heat blast and getting a little singed anyway. “I think the earth and air ones are amoks.”

“Great, so Hawkbutt still has help. At least I feel better about this!” Snake Noir slammed his baton full force into the earth amok’s side, sending it flying into one of the burning buildings.

As glad as she was that they’d managed to get all the citizens out of the area before Hawkmoth’s crew arrived, she also recognized a losing fight when she saw one. And seeing the building collapse into a hellish blaze reminded her that they still had options.

“Chat, follow me!”

Latching onto an as-of-yet intact piece of masonry with her yoyo, Dragonbug pulled herself away with the wind roaring in her ears.

Or so she had thought, until she realized it wasn’t the usual wind whipping past her, but the living whirlwind assaulting her. She was being battered all around, her grip on her yoyo slipping as she held on for dear life.

It ended in an instant. There had to be something solid inside the air amok, otherwise Snake Noir’s baton extending into it at max speed would’ve done nothing. With a nod of appreciation at her partner, she pulled on her yoyo and they both got out of there.

A few streets over and they leapt through the windows of an abandoned office building.

“Over here!” Snake Noir grabbed her hand and pulled her into a bathroom. He let go of her and rushed into one of the stalls. She took the one next to his.

“Longg, Tikki! Divide!” Longg’s powers left her and for a moment, Ladybug stood in the bathroom stall. It didn’t last long before she called off that transformation as well. “Tikki, spots off.”

While the kwami looked up at her expectantly, she heard Chat go through the same process, less than a meter away from her.

“Sass, Plagg! Divide. Plagg, claws in.” Whoever it was behind his mask addressed her. “So, my lady. What’s the plan?”

“Well, the red potion for Tikki and Plagg, for sure. I'm not sure what else we should use, though.”

“‘Cause of all the fire, yeah, I figured.” There was a pause. “Wait, does that mean…?”

“Yes.” Marinette looked into her kwamis eyes and saw some surprise, but also steady resolve. “I think it’s time to use two potions at once.”

“Well,” Tikki said with some uncertainty. “You won’t have access to both at the same time, I think.”

“How would we use both then?” The boy who was Chat asked. “Is it wasted?”

“No…” Sass said. There was a hint of worry in his voice, but Marinette couldn’t figure out why. “You’d have to either turn off your primary miraculousss or redo the unification.”

“Sounds easy enough.” Marinette nodded. “Got it, Chat?”

“Y-yeah,” he said. Before she could wonder about his uncharacteristic nervousness, he pushed on. “So, second potion. What are you thinking?”

“Well… ideally we’ll be beating the fire akuma with the red potion.”

“It might be good to take out the water guy at the same time,” Chat added. “That way, we can put out some of the fires.”

“And if I’m right about them being the two akumas-”

“-which you no doubt are, knowing you-”

“-then that means we can focus on the mindless monsters afterwards. So maybe something that gives us some leeway. Flight again?”

“No orange?”

“If its true that Hawkmoth is copying the potions we use, then I’d like to keep that in the bag for now. I think we can manage with the others.”

“Spot on as usual, my lady. Ready to feed the kwamis and suit up?”

A smirk crossed her face. “Always.”

-----------

Snake Noir was working hard to keep the whirlwind and boulder monster at bay for his lady. Teaming up on the fire guy had ended up in disaster, but a quick reset and a change in strategy later and things were going a little better now. Even if he felt the loss of having more allies now more than ever.

Against his better judgement, he snuck a look over his shoulder toward Dragonbug while his opponents were still reeling from one of his attacks. Black covered her hands and feet, with bright flame markings ending the soot-like marks at her wrists and ankles. A scale pattern had replaced her usual suit texture, and gleamed like hot embers. He caught a look of determination as he saw through the blue tinted visor of her new helmet.

Then she swung her sword turned axe, its blunt side sweeping against the water monster and splashing the fire guy with a sizzling hiss. His attention was pulled back to his own fight just in time to dodge a rocky fist.

In comparison, his suit hadn’t changed all that much - instead of his smooth black leather, his suit almost looked like bronze. Tufts of tawny fur edged the cuffs of his gauntlets and boots, and a whole mane of it surrounded his head - a head which was now completely covered in something similar to a motorcycle helmet.

Which was topped with cat ears, naturally. A perfect match to the lion’s tail that had replaced his leather belt tail.

In this fight, the tail was less useful than the ears, which often gave him his only warning about when an attack was coming in. Sure, he didn’t need much help when it came to the rock monster since it telegraphed its attacks in what felt like hours ahead of time. But that wasn’t the one he was worried about.

No, what he had to listen for was the whistling wind that rapidly built to a howling gale as the air amok tried to slam into him. There was never much time to evade since it came so quickly, but the trade off was that it didn’t hit all that hard.

The problem was that the rock monster did pack a punch and being hit by the gale stunned him long enough for the boulder fist to wind up and hit him, something he’d figured out the hard way. Thank all the kwami for Second Chance or this battle might have been over already.

All that to say, this fight was on a razor’s edge but only for him. He was struggling to make any offensive moves, but then again, he didn’t really need to.

“Found you!”

The eager shout from his lady saw him look back just in time to see a splash of water reveal a necklace around the fire guy’s neck, buried in flame. But while she was busy rushing for that, he caught a glimpse of something in the water akuma as it took a moment to recover. Something weirdly shaped located at the core.

On the bare-looking akumas and amoks, odds were that it was the source of their power. He waited and listened, staring intently at the rock monster as he positioned himself just right.

The whistling started just where he thought it would, but even then he waited, tensing all his muscles, until the howling gale were nearly on him then-

He threw himself to the side with as fast as he could, at the very last possible second. The living whirlwind breezed past him to slam into the stone beast, staggering it back a step and stunning the wind as well. The two of them distracted briefly, he whipped around and ran.

As he approached, Dragonbug was making desperate grabs for the now freely dangling necklace, but the fire akuma was keeping just out of reach. The water akuma, trying to support its ally, was too focused on Dragonbug to notice him. At least until his baton was slicing through it. It connected with something solid which shattered satisfyingly.

The water creature began to shrink in on itself as it transformed back into a human. The sight of which must have surprised the fire akuma and uncertainty flickered in its flames. A moment of hesitation, but more than enough to give Dragonbug the upper hand as she lunged forward and yanked the necklace off it. A swift punch shattered it and the fires coating the person extinguished.

Two purifications later and two citizens in The Last Airbender cosplays stood blinking in bewilderment on the battlefield. Trusting Dragonbug to fix things, Snake Noir returned to the remaining amoks who were even now barreling down on them.

“Water Dragon!”

A sudden rain, like a tropical deluge, fell all around them. The fires were extinguished, leaving the area much colder and darker than before.

“Chat, come on! Get the civilians out and swap out!”

After blocking a swing from the rock monster and dodging the whirlwind, he nodded and scooped up one of the civilians. Dragonbug got the other and they escaped the area. The whirlwind seemed to be playing it safe now, since it didn’t chase after them.

The four of them landed on a rooftop, where they dropped off the civilians.

“I’m super sorry about all this,” the woman wearing a Water Tribe cosplay said. “I didn’t think an argument would be enough to cause… that.” She gestured toward the scorched section of the city, now dripping wet.

“Just an argument turned you into such powerful akumas?” Dragonbug’s eyebrows rose.

“Well, it was a pretty heated fight,” the man in a Fire Nation outfit said with a smirk. Snake Noir chuckled appreciatively.

“Any clue where the… control thing for those things are?” Snake Noir tapped his chin in thought. “It’ll probably be something tied to your fight.”

The man and woman glanced at each other, then patted themselves down.

“Uhh… Do you have that wood leaf?”

“The one painted to look slightly burned, like Aang had practiced firebending on it, right?” The woman shook her head. “No, I don’t. Do you have the glowy crystal, like from the cave of two lovers?”

“Nope,” the man replied, popping the ‘p’. He turned to the two heroes. “Looks like you’re after a crystal and a wooden leaf.”

Dragonbug tapped her chin. “I bet the leaf is lightweight, huh?”

“Oh for sure,” the woman said. “It kept getting blown away by the fan.”

“I see…” Dragonbug took out her yoyo and jumped up onto the roof ledge, Snake Noir following her lead. “Thanks for the help, you two!”

Snake Noir waved at them as he jumped off the roof after her. “Stay out of trouble!”

“I’ve got-” Dragonbug stopped when Snake Noir’s bracelet let out a shrill beep. “Take care of that first and meet me at the amoks. Just follow my lead and we should have this one in the bag.”

“I never doubted it for a second.” He gave a quick bow and dashed off.

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

“Perfect timing, Chat,” Dragonbug said as she engaged in an aerial duel with the living whirlwind and nimbly dodging the occasional thrown boulder from the rock monster.

Snake Noir’s emerald green wings carried him into a flanking position, no doubt intending to help her beat up on the wind amok. But she had different plans. It had taken her a while to figure out which piece of floating debris was the leaf in question, but once she saw it she had refused to take her eyes off of it. All she had to do was wait until-

Now!

“Wind dragon!’ A gust of wind, even stronger than her enemy but very short lived, blew straight at the leaf… and right into her partner.

Although he was surprised at the sudden attack, it all clicked for him once the leaf smacked him in the forehead. A quick punch shattered it and the winds finally died down around them.

The purification must have been the final straw for Hawkmoth and Mayura, since they retracted the feather from the rock monster’s amok after a moment of hesitation. The feather slipped from between the monster’s fingers, causing it to drop the crystal the cosplayers had mentioned. Despite its best attempts, the feather didn’t get away either and it too was purified.

“Lucky Charm!” A first place medal landed into her hands and a smirk crossed Dragonbug’s face. She immediately tossed it back into the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

Dragonbug put her hands on her hips and watched with satisfaction while the city was mended before her very eyes. Snake Noir stepped up to her with a smile and a raised fist.

“May I interest you in a ‘pound it’ for a job well done?”

She pretended to consider it for a moment before nodding and returning the fist bump. “You may.”

[allaboutthebooz]

I See The Light Pt. One

Summary: Tony takes the team to Walt Disney World and Steve is understanding why it’s so magical.

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Warnings: Just toothache inducing sweet fluff.

A/N: Since coming home from my trip to Disney, I’ve been a little blue and figured what better way to help than to write a painfully sweet Steve x reader fic. Thank you, @jamielea81​ for being my beta for this part and my saving grace and for the help with getting this idea off the ground. I’m so so so excited about this and I hope you all love it as much as I do.

The excitement of the other’s around him made Steve truly feel like the old man he is. He couldn’t understand what was so great about this park that Tony dragged them all too. What was so great about a park dedicated a mouse and his friends? Even Bucky, who mopes and moans about everything, is smiling and letting Nat drag him by the hand to the long lines meant for the entrance.

Disney World. Steve has never been to Disney. He was 101 years old and he had yet to visit these parks…or any amusement park really. Too busy saving the world. Before the reset, all Steve did was work, eat, and sleep. Now that everything was back to normal (as normal as it can be with half of the population suddenly returning after being gone year), Tony decided everyone deserved a break and vacation. He bought everyone tickets to all of the parks and rented everyone a room for two weeks at the Grand Floridian Resort. He didn’t give Fury a chance to argue, simply stating that they saved the world plenty of times and never once asked for anything in return. He wanted to give the team this trip as a way to say thanks. He also wanted all of Morgan’s aunts and uncles to see her first experience at the ‘most magical place on Earth.’

They’d gotten checked into their rooms and got a good night’s sleep, before waking up at the crack of dawn to eat breakfast and pile onto one of the small ferry boats that would take them over to the park. As soon as the castle came into view, the girls (who were trained killers) and Morgan started squealing and clapping. All the guys could do was smile at each of them. These grown women who have crushed men’s heads between their thighs, turned into fangirls at a boyband concert. Each wearing their “Mickey Ears” that they picked out the day before at one of the Disney Springs shops.

Getting through the lines and the main gate, Tony tells the other’s that they will meet up for lunch before letting Morgan drag him and Pepper away.

Steve turns towards the others, Wanda already dragging Sam in the direction of the shops that line Main Street, Nat and Bucky looking over the map and deciding where to go first, and Y/N was staring straight down the path, a smile brighter than sun spread across her face. He follows her gaze, but only sees the giant castle.

“Well, where to first?” He asks the small group.

“Buck and I are gonna head over to Tomorrowland and get in line for Space Mountain. I heard it’s a rollercoaster that’s completely in the dark.”

“We should see if there are any FastPasses left before you do that. I really want to see if we can get one for Peter Pan. That line is always at least an hour wait and it’s one of my favorites.” Y/N explains.

“There’s a ride for Peter Pan? The old play?”

Y/N smiles at Steve and shakes her head. “No, but in the 50’s Disney made an animated film based off of the play and they made a ride for it.” Her eyes grow wide. “Oh! And we need to ride Haunted Mansion and Pirates of Caribbean! Maybe if we go now, we can get on one before the line gets too long.”

Ignoring her, Bucky and Natasha head towards Tomorrowland and Y/N disappears into the crowd, the only tell of where she is are her bright red sequined ears. He quickly catches up to her, not knowing which direction Bucky and Nat we’re going. He grips her by the elbow to let her know he was behind her, and she turns to give him one of her bright smiles. The view making his heart stutter for a moment. The happiness radiating off of her with the blue castle in front of them and the hundreds of balloons and people crowding the street, giving Steve a brighter view of where he was. She guides them through different paths until the cross under a sign reading “Adventureland” all without a map, he notices.

“Where are we going?” He inquires.

“Pirates of the Caribbean.”

“How do you know where you’re going?”

“This is my favorite place to be. My family used to come every year before my mom died when I was fifteen. Then my dad decided he would rather have money for drinking than for feeding me, he sold me than for feeding me, he sold me to Soviets, this beginning my time in the ‘Red Room.’ So, this brings back happier times. Though it’s been forever since I’ve been here, it hasn’t changed.”

Steve nods, remembering reading about her time with Natasha in her file the Fury gave him. “Well, lets hope it lives up to its memory.”

Another smile. “It will.” She takes his hand and pulls him the rest of the way to the entrance for Pirates. They wait in line for thirty minutes before being ushered into a boat with other people. Y/N squeals when they start to move, the smile never leaving her face.

Their boat floats in the small river tail with the echoes of ‘Dead men tell no tales’ being heard through the tunnel. The cave shining with blue lights to resemble the glow of the moon in a clear night’s sky.

Looking around at the detail that was given to the cave, Steve catches a glimpse of Y/N. The excitement has yet you leave her face and her smile is even bigger than he thought was possible.

“Ah, but they do tell tales. So, says I, Davy Jones.” The eerie voice calls through the speakers, following them through the cave.

They come upon a sandy beach filled with treasure, a pirate’s flag and skeletons. Lightning in the close distance, signaling a storm ahead. High winds blow onto a wrecked ship with one lone skeleton steering the wreckage.

A quick flash and then they are descended down a dark slope with no telling how far it goes. Y/N squeals and Steve gives a quick laugh of shock, before the boat settles onto even waters, the tunnel opens out into a night sky with a large ship firing its cannons onto a tower, water splashing around them, cannon fire exploding from each direction. Loud music filling the speakers.

The air is suddenly pumped full of strong scent that is hard for Steve to understand. “What is that smell?” He leans towards his friend, keeping his voice a low level but loud enough for her to hear.

She leans closer to him, careful not to poke him with her ears, “A burning city.”

He’s confused for a moment before understanding her simple sentence. They glide into a well detailed city full of people. Civilians and pirates all around. One man, being dunked repeatedly into a well while being prodded for answers about the whereabouts of a man named Jack Sparrow. A woman calling from an open window, begging him not to talk.

Y/N, still leaned into Steve’s shoulder, says, “I’m not sure if this is right, but I’ve always thought that this town was called Tortuga like in Haiti. I only think that because of the movies. Though I could be wrong because they were known to raid a bunch of towns.”

“I’ve never seen the movies.”

Her eyes grow wide. “Are you serious?” He nods. “Well, I know what we are watching tonight.” She tells him before turning back to the ride.

The next scene looks to be an auction of some sorts. Well-dressed towns people lined up to sell their items to which ever pirate has the most coin.

“This scene used to be different. They never used to have the people selling their stuff. It used to be the pirates were auctioning off the women in this town.”

“Why did it change?”

“The modern generations didn’t like what it stood for. Even though that is exactly what they were doing in those times. Rape, pillage, and plunder. That’s what the pirates lived by.”

Steve hums. They spend the rest of the ride like that. Y/N explaining what was happening and what it all meant. Never pulling any further away from each other than they were. Shoulders touching, heads leaned close together so that they could talk without disturbing the other riders.

The ride ended all too soon and then they were unloading their little boat and walking up a ramp and out into a little shop filled with souvenirs and people.

“What’d you think?” Y/N asks after they clear the shop and step into an area that was easier to breathe in.

“It was cool. I liked all of the little details that they out into it. The smells and affects.”

“And it only gets better from here. All of the rides are like that. Walt Disney was great about the details and his team still makes sure that it is always like that.”

He nods. “Where to next?”

“Um.” Y/N looks at her watch on her wrist. “We still have a while before we are supposed to meet the other’s for lunch. We can get in line for another ride or we can watch a show. Whatever you want to do.”

Steve looks around, unsure of what to do. “Lead the way. You know this place better than I ever will.”

Y/N laughs. “Alright, um we’re close to Jungle Cruise. The wait is long, but not terrible.”

He holds an arm out, instructor her to take the lead. She grabs his hand and pulls him along.

They spend most of their morning in lines and on rides. They just unloaded the Magic Carpets When their phones chimed. Both pulling them from their pockets to see Tony sent a message to the group chat, letting them know that Morgan was hungry and that they were heading back to the resort for lunch if anyone wanted to join them.

Y/N makes a face. “Back to the resort? I was hoping he would just eat in the park.”

“It’s Tony. He probably doesn’t want to wait for his food like a normal person.”

“True. Well do you want to meet up with them or just find something here?”

“We can get something here. I don’t want to leave and then have to deal with having to get back in.”

“Okay. We can do that.” She heads back towards Pirates and finds a little place to eat called Tortuga Tavern.

They fill up on food and spend the rest of their day trying to get on every ride they can before meeting up with the others at their reserved location for the Nighttime Spectacular show at the castle.

Steve didn’t think he could have as much fun as he did today, but he was wrong. Y/N was always his favorite person to be around. Aside from Bucky, she had become his best friend. They ran missions together while Nat was off getting intel and hacking programs for Fury. They worked out together before Sam joined the team. She helped pull him from his depression after waking up in a different world than the one who knew about.

She always made him laugh and knew what he needed when he needed it. He was happy to spend more time with her. Watching the happiness never leave her face and all of the little facts that she knew about this place, made him happy. Her being happy, keeps him happy.

He knew he should have been watching the show and the fireworks, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t peel his focus off of her. She sang every song that played and got super excited when one she really loved played next. She’d bounce on her feet and clap her hands while she sang.

Why he never wanted that look to leave her, he didn’t know. But he did know that he could die with that being the last thing he ever sees.

Tags:

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[pro-bee]

Ziva David Appreciation Week Day 1: Underrated Friendship

OK, I had a totally different idea for this one initially (and if I have time tonight maybe I’ll make another post), but here it goes for now:

I don’t know how “underrated” this is, but I really liked the relationship between Ziva and Damon Werth.

(All screencaps in this post courtesy of NCIS Source.)

They meet under inauspicious circumstances, of course. He is their main suspect and has just beaten the crap out of the entire team, including Ziva. 

Yet instead of feeling fear or anger, Ziva is immediately drawn to Damon, because she recognizes something in him: Trauma.

Even before we find out that Damon is a super soldier, that he’s been experimented on and manipulated through the use of steroids to do someone else’s bidding, Ziva is sympathetic towards him, recognizing a look in his eyes she’s probably seen in countless friends and colleagues as a soldier -- and even in herself. Being so focused on your mission that you can’t leave it behind.

For instance, once Werth is in custody, there is that moment with Abby where she freaks out over the attack, losing her marbles over her friends being hurt, and in turn losing it on Ziva when Ziva expresses sympathy for Damon’s situation. That brings the infamous line where Abby accuses Ziva of being an “emotionless” assassin, compared to the rest of them who presumably have feelings, which gets right at the heart of Ziva’s own pain. Because we know she’s not emotionless, just like Damon isn’t, and she sees in him what she assumes the world sees of her. That on the outside she appears to be the perfect soldier, following orders without remorse, but we know that on the inside she feels so deeply that she essentially feels alone, like no one can understand her.

Which is why she is so desperate to clear Damon’s name. 

He’s a marine who gave his life to serve his country and is now being tossed aside to cover up someone else’s mistakes, just like Ziva’s been used by her father and Mossad to serve someone else’s agenda, been trained her whole life to be the sharp end of someone else’s spear, without any consideration for her own desires or choices.

Which is why it’s so important to her to not only plead his case and get to the bottom of what really happened, but also show him that someone out there does understand what he’s going through. Both the trauma of what happens in a war zone and when you get home -- and what it’s like to have everyone make assumptions about you and write you off. (As the conversation with Abby painfully demonstrates.)

So when they finally figure out what is happening to him, that someone is harming him, Ziva is determined that she can get through to him, and insists on meeting with him, even though it is a risk to her safety. 

Which proves to be true, when they have their “Pulp Fiction” moment and he Hulk Smashes his way through the hospital room:

What has always struck me about this scene is how preternaturally calm she is in this moment. This guy who probably weighs twice as much as her comes charging at her, and sure, she’s probably internally worried that she’s going to get hurt, but she isn’t scared of him. And not in that “Ziva is a badass who takes no shit” kind of way, but in an overwhelmingly compassionate, “this isn’t who he is” way. It is incredibly vulnerable and raw, but again displays this whole other side of her that we only get glimpses of. 

The show often glosses over Ziva’s own military service, but how many men (and women) do you think Ziva has known in her lifetime who have ended up exactly like Damon? Guys who were once your best buddies whose brains ended up like “Swiss cheese” to quote this show, due to their PTSD and whatever else they’ve suffered with as a result? Friends you wish you could have helped but lost along the way?

I feel like that is exactly what drives Ziva to fight for him so fiercely from the outset, and why she takes an unusually silent, open approach with him. 

She gave him a chance when no one else would.

(Because life gave her a second chance when by all accounts she never should have had it.)

Like, I even love that of all of them, it’s Ziva and Gibbs who get dressed up all fancy to take Damon to his medal ceremony, and how disappointed they both are when it gets cancelled.

They want to stand by him. (That’s a whole other post -- how Ziva and Gibbs “get” the military duty aspect more than any of the other combination of team members, because they’re the only two who have served and understand the commitment and personal sacrifice that entails firsthand.)

Bonus cap: Ziva in fancy clothes:

Anyway, this first episode is mostly Ziva-focused, obviously, because Damon’s brain was all scrambled, but I loved how it showed their instant connection, which is highlighted in his future appearances in season 7.

It’s a short one in “Outlaws and Inlaws,” but it packs a punch.

Once again, Damon finds himself accidentally on the wrong side, this time because it turns out his boss is a mercenary who has hired him to kidnap Layla and Amira (under the guise of “rescue,”) but I love that as soon as he sees Ziva there, he goes from “oh no I have to save my friend!” to “oh SHIT we gotta fix this” when Ziva tells him what is in fact happening. Like, screw all his coworkers, if Ziva tells him something’s wrong, he’s with her 110%. I love how deep that trust is.

And I like how he changes sides immediately at this too. We only see him briefly in this episode, but he’s totally ride-or-die for Team NCIS, thanks to Ziva. 

Then in his last episode, he and Ziva actually get to team up on a mission!

And they’re all cute and fun and flirty but in a totally friendly way!

(Not gonna lie, if Ziva couldn’t be with Tony, I would have been fine with her having a fling with Damon. He was hot and nice and kinda worshipped her, what’s not to like? But I digress.)

I just really appreciated how he was this dude who could easily have been a macho meathead, but instead he’s sensitive and struggling with his demons, just like Ziva is, and the reignite this kinship over their shared history of trauma:

“My friends who know about these things tell me it is a science. Trauma intensifies memory, which can make it feel ever present.” “There a reason for that?” "Perhaps to teach you, so you do not allow it to happen again.” "I keep getting stuck in my own history.” "Look, the last time we saw each other, you were in control. You helped us. Even after everything you have gone through, you can move forward. You can find the right path, Damon.”

(transcript courtesy Springfield)

In the context of the show, this is months after Somalia, and Ziva is still grappling with what happened to her there, along with everything that happened to her in her life before she came to NCIS, and she’s trying to reconcile who she wants to be with her past. 

But she’s doing the work. That’s the important part.

So when she reunites with Damon, sees him struggling with his own past and his own choices and possibly heading down the wrong path because he can’t find his footing in civilian life, she’s sympathetic to his plight. Because she was lucky enough to have NCIS to fall back on, something to help guide her and give her direction in her life when she left her old one. Damon doesn’t have that kind of support system, and like Ziva went from being in a highly specialized unit where everything was life-or-death, to living an aimless existence just trying to get by. 

I love that Ziva tries to mentor him in a way, or even act like a sponsor of sorts, showing him that trauma manifests in different forms, but that there are ways to get through it. They are not defined by their experiences or by others’ expectations of them, and all they can do is work hard to honour their choices and live up to their own expectations of themselves.

I love that they took what was probably this one-off character in season 5, and used his backstory to mirror Ziva’s, and help her work through some of those feelings herself. 

I’d like to think that Damon and Ziva kept in touch over the years, checked in with each other with a quick text every couple of months or years to see what they’re up to. He was an unexpectedly cool dude, and I’m glad we got to see Ziva show compassion to him when no one else would, because that is such a huge part of who she is. She fights for those who don’t have a voice.

I’d totally be cool with Damon coming back one day!

[wkm-detective-abe-squad]

All Together, Prologue and Part 1

Making A Plan

Word Count: 2257

Based on this AHWM AU

Warnings: None

Author’s Notes at the end

Some say that the night is dead, that it is silent and empty, but that is never quite the case. As the moon rises and the world is lulled to sleep there is always someone, somewhere who resists the darkness’s lullaby. An owl, willingly or not, left to their own devices as the stars above make their journey across the skies.

Tonight, however, seemed to be filled with a whole flock, ruffling their feathers as wide eyes search for something far from their grasp, something that cannot be hunted by one alone.

With their skills, their experience, and their hints of jumbled memories, success appears to be in reach, despite the secrets, the conflicts, and the haunting truth.

However,

It is also important to note the average owl’s brain only takes up about ⅓ of its skull.

Which can equate to roughly the size of a thimble in some species.

…

Do with that information as you will.

________________________________________________________________

Blue and red hues colored the moonlight gently streaming into the lab, as the steady hum of machines filled the void with quiet noise. At the hour of 4 am, the halls should have been emptied hours ago, but of course science never sleeps, so neither did the scientist. It wasn’t healthy, she that more than anybody, but she considered it a small price to pay for what was at stake.

At least that’s what she told herself. It was difficult to label what exactly was at stake when nothing simply made sense anymore. Nothing was adding up in the way they should, and the scientific method she held on to appeared to be failing her at every turn.

The first indicator of something being amiss was the time. Yes, staying up till 4 in the morning was horrendous for a person’s circadian rhythm, but that wasn’t the major issue. The major issue was that the sun was shining bright, and the clock was reading 2:37 pm up until she had turned from her desk until just moments ago to be met with darkened windows. Yes, perhaps Einstein’s theory of relativity could be to blame, but she wasn’t that absorbed in her work… okay maybe she was, but even she had to get up once in awhile in the span of roughly 13 hours that had somehow passed in an instant.

The second indicator was a feeling that was gnawing at her from the inside out. A sense of Deja vu that would never leave, a constant feeling of a word stuck on the tip of her tongue, and bits and pieces of memories in her brain that seemed logically impossible, even in her dreams.

What did it all mean?

Despite the piles of handwritten notes strewn across her desk, she felt completely at a loss. At least she had the newly built Time Anomaly Tracker… that she had no recollection of building, to show for.

Maybe she just needed a break from it. Maybe things would make more sense in the morning after what little sleep she could get.

But first she needed to slow down the wheels turning in her mind. It was a good thing there was an old TV in the break room, that should do the trick. It didn’t take her long to plop down onto a dusty couch and grab the remote. Hopefully it would be enough to distract her from all her thoughts. 

-click-

“Order your bubbles today-”

-click-

“Welcome to Warfs-”

-click-

“You think she cares? Bad Dog!”

-click-

So picky, she couldn’t help but drone through the different channels until a shaky camera and a stuttering voice caught her attention.

“Hello everybody this is Jim, and this is my associate Jim. Welcome to this Jim News Exclusive -stay low, stay low- Tonight, we bring to you-” the reporter paused for a moment to dramatically point to the camera, as if this was a message directly to Rose Beauregard herself, “live footage from the scene of the crime. The crime of robbery. A robbery so mysterious, so mystifying that no one could even pathom how the the robberors could have broken into this heavily guarded museum in the first place!”

From the way they were sneaking around, it appeared that the reporters had broken into the museum. It was actually quite impressive considering the lines of caution tape that wrapped some exhibits like Christmas presents, the addition of a laser based alarm system, and the obscene number of patrolling guards and policemen that could be easily seen in the background.

"We must be careful Jim we don’t know what dangers may be lurking abo- oh hand me the steak," it was thrown off camera, quickly followed by a distant voice cheering in delight about the free snack, “The Old Steak Trick, works most of the time.”

Soon, maybe a little bit too soon, the Jims approached a very much unlocked and strangely unprotected vault. 

“Here it is, the grisly scene. Not one, not seven, not four, but two insidious individuals committed the reprehensible act of theft in this very vault. Yes, the item that once here is no longer here. It has disappeared, off with the perpetrators. We have no confirmation about exactly what it is they actually stole, but we have our theories. It could have been a treasure map or an ancient salt shaker, it may be from another world or the source of a time anomaly, it could be fairy (like the ones we learned about in history class) or the world’s oldest picnic basket, it could be all of these, it could be nothing at all, the possibilities are endless.”

“Now I’m sure many of you watching at home are shaking in utter fear, I am too, but fear not. Thankfully for you innocent, or perhaps not so innocent civilians, justice hit them hard, even harder than how Cousin Jim was hit by that bus, and a great many times quicker. Our inside resource has informed us Jims about the fates of Mark Iplier and his assistant Y/N. They are already locked up, far, far away at Happy Trails Penitentiary to never see the light of day again. We are safe, for now.”

“However, there is still a mystery to be solved. For unknown reasons, the object of question has not been returned to its rightful place. It’s tragic on every degree, that poor stolen object, it must be so scared and alone now that its captors are behind bars. But that is why we have taken it upon ourselves to get answers. And this time I swear, on every Jim ever to Jim, that we will find an answer to whatever, wherever, whenever, and whyever this thing is-”

The Jim’s voice was cut off by another’s, which resulted in the reporters and their sole viewer being being thrown off guard. In their hasty escape, the camera tumbled to the ground, making it even more difficult to decipher who the new person was. From the small glimpse, it didn’t appear like they worked at the museum, nor were they dressed as any law enforcer. Nevertheless, they didn’t seem so glad to see the trespassers.

“You two again!? Why won’t you quit?!?” was the last thing to be heard before the screen was claimed by static.

The scientist simply sat on, dumbfounded by whatever the hell she just watched. Her head was filled with so many questions she wasn’t even sure where to begin. There was a heist at a public museum, yet no one knows what was stolen? How were the perpetrators already in jail? Didn’t the crime just happen? When was the trial? And why did everything seem like it was…

Out of order.

“Mark Iplier… Y/N… A time anomaly”

It all finally clicked. 

This had all happened before. Well, sort of. The events were different as far as she remembered. Thankfully it appeared she was no longer in a timeline riddled with the undead and raiders, and undead raiders. However… if she had already destroyed the anomaly before, all of the time-space issues should have been fixed right? Unless, of course, her original hypothesis about of all this was wrong. Perhaps it wasn’t the box causing all the trouble, maybe, it was Y/N and maybe this Mark causing the trouble. The strangeness always seemed to be triggered by them afterall. 

Too many of her questions were still left unanswered, which only served to fuel her curiosity and need to fix this once and for all. However, this time Rose was no longer at a complete loss, she now had a lead, which only meant one thing:

Off to Happy Trails Penitentiary.

________________________________________________________________

Blue and red hues colored the moonlight blanketing the courtyard, as the blaring call of ambulance sirens added to the usual chaos of the night. 4 am was too late for any of this, but crime never slept, and apparently neither did any of the criminals. Which in turn led to a very sleep deprived and grouchy warden that now that had to deal with one prisoner being punched through the wall and another pulling off a magic disappearing act.

Not to mention the holes. There was a giant hole in the bottom of his office, several even larger holes in the cell walls, and another that was vaguely human shaped and a little bit too disturbing to deal with at the moment. It felt like the place was built out of goddamn graham crackers.

At least the injured prisoner was properly dealt with, Mark Iplier, or Asshole Mark as the other prisoners called him, broke too many bones for the staff to handle so he was sent off to a nearby hospital to recover. The warden didn’t mind, he was causing too much trouble anyways going off and asking for his personal belongings.

And speaking of the two’s personal belongings, the box they had arrived with just so happened to disappear with Y/N, who was otherwise known as *Insert Ridiculous Prison Nickname Here*. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to open it yet and now it was gone. However, that wasn’t the worst of it. Y/N was gone, or perhaps very good at hide and seek. He was hoping for the latter but after several hours of guards and prisoners counting and looking, it didn’t seem very likely.

The warden was offended on all accounts by the newest prisoner's conduct. There hadn't been a breakout in years and then suddenly they waltz in and think that they could just waltz back out like it was no big deal. Though yet again, he doubted the charade would last long. Most of the criminals of Happy Trails wouldn’t last a day out in the real world. They even sang a song about how they never wanted to leave. It would be soon enough until they came crawling back again, and when they did, they were going to face all the wrath of Warden Dave Murderslaughter. They were going to get rehabilitated harder than they would ever get rehabilitated before, whether they liked it or not.

But for now he had to play the waiting game. Somehow, someway or another, he was going to take the reins over once again. This was his penitentiary after all, and what kind of warden would he be if his jail wasn’t in proper order?

________________________________________________________________

At this hour the world seemed almost monochrome. It was an hour in which one should be snuggled up in bed, or in some cases, a jail cell safe from the dangers of the world. It was for sure not an hour where someone should be braving the summer night’s heat as they wander through tall grass, with no one other than the insects eating them alive as a companion.

Y/N had escaped, that was a given, but that didn’t mean they felt free. Once everyone knew they escaped, the hunt would be on. All they could think of at the moment was to carry on forward, but they knew they’d have to think of a plan eventually. If only Mark was there with them… he was always the one to point out their options.

But now they were all alone, truly alone… Wow, when was the last time that happened? Of course they couldn’t remember, during all these adventures memory never seemed like a necessity. With every bizarre scenario that came along, it was difficult to process the present as it was. Trying to analyze the past was a whole other be a feat in itself. As Yancy said, “The past ain’t the kind of thing to be trifled with.” It was the future they really needed to worry about right now.

They had to forge their way out of this mess somehow, but they couldn’t do it all by themselves. They needed to find Mark, or at least some they could trust, they needed to make sure no one else would be looking for them, and they needed to learn the truth about the box they had gone through so much trouble to steal. In it was a key as far as they knew, but inside they knew that there had to be more going on. Something that perhaps Mark wasn’t telling them about.

So now they had… something that resembled a plan. They were still unsure of the road ahead, but perhaps if they followed that plan… and don’t deviate from it… everything might just turn alright in the end after all. 

________________________________________________________________

Thank you for reading, it’s much appreciated :) Future parts should have less POV switching, this is just mainly to set up where each character is at starting out. (Also please don’t quote me on the owl facts, I was just trying my best to make a dramatic metaphor) 

Tagging: @thatforgottenbasilisk @thecatchat @statictay @gay-spaghetti @captainsaltypear @chelseareferenced

[kenimichrow]

The Landless King (Arvaelon Narkerym) 1: The Day of Memories

 Spring in the Southern Continent, City of Flosee

That day was a day of memories. 

It started with good memories. It was a new city in a new continent. A new country with a new culture. I had already been there a few days after arriving from Masserine, where I had left my magic teacher to settle into his retirement. Having rested a little, I could now go out and explore.

The city was filled with sights to behold. I met a merchant with wondrous wares from all parts of the Sessite Confederacy. Each item was extraordinary and unique, and he explained each one’s origins in detail as he tried to convince me to purchase it. Alas, traveling is not the most profitable of pastimes, and so I had to turn him down. He seemed to think I was haggling and brought the price down, but in the end I could neither afford the luxury nor the weight.

Soon after that I wandered into the palace district. I gazed upon huge majestic buildings with foreign architecture that I couldn't even begin to understand and admired their lavish beauty. You’d think that I would have had my fill of such displays of overly obnoxious amounts of wealth from my decades in Kessan, but there is a reason they cost so much. They were dazzling with a hypnotic strangeness unique to the Sessite Confederacy’s culture. I’m sure I made more than one palace guard anxious as I stared at them from the street, so I did not linger at any one palace for long.

Flosee, however, is not only beauty and wonder. That day, I met a poor soul who tried to pick my pocket. I chose not to pursue him as he ran into the market crowd after I foiled his attempt, but his presence reminded me of the dark underbelly of the city that I had been ignoring. 

He wasn’t the only poor soul in the city. 

I pretended not to see them, but slaves littered the city. It made my own slave mark tingle beneath my leather bracer as memories of ancient pain tried to surface. I pushed it down, intent on enjoying my day, but my momentary pity for the thief rekindled the same thoughts for those shackled in the market. 

My mood soured, but I told myself I could do nothing for them. It wasn’t as if I had sparked the Revolution of Sladora myself. I had simply played my part. There were other far wiser men who had given me the opportunities to free myself. I had been the soldier, not the commander, and so I wouldn’t know how to light the match of similar flames here. And even if I could, would I do it wherever I saw slaves? Travel the world, setting every city on fire who dared to collar their fellow man? 

I saw my long lifespan stretch before me, and a weariness began to weigh down on my soul. The Revolution of Sladora had been a hard and trying time, and I selfishly didn’t want to repeat it just to change the entire world. I just wanted to live in it, content that I myself was free and that I had my homeland of Sladora to return to. 

Perhaps Tuenoril was right, and I was a coward without conviction. Our whole family was now dead, countless years of their life cut short, and what had I done to stop it? Counseled caution? Spoke of endurance and waiting for an opportune moment? As I waited, our sister had wasted away in the same bed where her nightmares were made real. Would the slaves in the market waste away too under their suffering as they waited for an opportunity that might never come to them?

I had no answer, and so I pushed it to the back of my mind and made my way to find lunch. I had seen a particularly interesting food stall earlier that day and had promised myself I would try it.The excitement of trying something new temporarily replaced my melancholy, but the fates were not so kind as to let that last.

Art by Haver

Before I could reach my anticipated destination, I saw a flash of steel from the corner of my eye. My instincts from the war made me turn to face it, but the blade I saw was not meant for me. Too quick to stop, a dagger entered the throat of a nearby guardsman. The unlucky man fell to the ground as he quickly bled out, and his compatriots swiftly descended on his assassin.

The sudden violence was unnerving, and I was quickly swept up in the panicking crowd as they fled the scene of the attack. I managed to find an alcove to escape the stampede, but by then I had been carried far from where it had all happened. When I tried to return and offer help, I was shooed away by a wary guard who was barring people from re-entering the market. 

I decided to find a tavern instead to fill my belly and clear my sense of unease. It was only later that I would realize that the guard’s death might have been a warning from Kirith, if her divine spark still lived. 

“Flee! Like the flood of people from the market. Before the coming violence.” Her gentle voice might say. But alas, I viewed it then as only a random skirmish in the vast expanse of the cityscape. 

My unease dissipated as the shadows grew long. As I made my way back to the inn I was staying at, I heard a gasp in a nearby alley way along with fleeing footsteps. When I moved to inquire, I found a woman staggering towards me as she clutched her side. Blood dripped onto the pavement and gushed between her fingers. Even in the dim light I could tell it was the wrong color. I could smell rot, and the flesh exposed by the tear near the wound was clearly festering in a way that old injuries fester when ignored. But old wounds didn’t bleed like that. 

I offered her support, and she fell into my arms. I instructed her to apply as much pressure as possible to her side, though I was careful not to touch it myself as I held her up. Then I scanned our surroundings for the nearest guard. My search was fruitless in an eerie way. There were no guards nearby. I wracked my memory and could not remember seeing any guards for a while. The unease from that afternoon began to grow anew, but my immediate concern was the woman. 

We made our way into the city towards where I assumed would be a guard station. As we walked, the woman leaned on me more and more until I was practically carrying her. 

Then I heard them. Warning bells ringing throughout the city.

Memories of the night the Sladoran Revolution caught flame flooded my mind. The cold sweat brought on by panic. Standing above my dead master as the mansion came alive at the sound of the city bells. Fleeing into the night to discover the city in a riot as other slaves who had also successfully assassinated their masters attempted to save those who had failed. My heart rate spiked, but I forced myself back to the present. 

There was no battle in the streets right now, but the bells were ringing, so there might soon be. I turned to the woman in my arms, intent on moving her to my back to speed up our progress, only to find her eyes unfocused and her breath stopped. Reverently, but with haste, I laid her in the streets. I said a silent prayer to a God who had long before my birth been no longer able to hear it, and turned away.

My knowledge of Flosee was limited, and with a different culture, I had no way of knowing the city’s plans to protect the citizenry in the case of an attack. As such I made a guess - the most protected part of the city would be either the palace district or the city center. I decided the city center was the better bet, as they would have to make it past the palace district to get there, and began to make my way there. 

Before I could reach it, however, sounds of battle began to surround me. As I tried to avoid the sources of the noise, I caught glimpses of ogres, trolls, hill giants, and even goblins fighting alongside men of all different races covered in red-painted armor. It was an unsettling sight of cooperation as they murdered the people of Flosee, but oddly quixotic in a gruesome way. 

I did not stop to admire it, though. I fled deeper into the city. I quickly became lost in the maze of a foreign metropolis, but I noticed I wasn’t alone. Others fleeing the battle were also gathering, almost as if they were being corralled toward one another. This became more obvious when, at one plaza, red-painted attackers emerged from all directions. Most of the civilians fled, but two armed combatants and myself were cut off. 

One of those trapped in the plaza was a grey skinned half-orc covered in hides and wielding a large sword. He was the only one of us who looked rather undisturbed by being surrounded, even seeming a little excited as he eyed their crimson armor. 

“These guys don’t seem to be too friendly, how about you guys?” 

When I called out to the two, he didn’t even look at me. I thus deemed him agreeable enough to hide behind as I summoned a disk of force to act as my shield.

The other potential ally, a mocha half-elf with the exotic features of the Sessite Confederacy, no doubt from the dilution of her Elven blood, had a similar idea. The leather clad lady graceful maneuvered to my side and brandished a dagger at the man who charged her. As she fended him off, she greeted me back in a furious shout. “They’re burning my city to the ground!” I took that as yes, she was indeed friendly to me. Probably.

Art by Haver

The half-orc began to mow down those who came at him like they were little more than dogs, so I decided to lend a hand to my kin. I made my way behind her attacker with my rapier in hand, and gracefully cut him down. Or rather, I tried. I managed to get a few good hits in, but then made a major error of judgement.

Casting magic in combat was new to me. Though over the last 35 or so years I had been taught by my teacher to fight with it, and had even learned to cast while wielding my rapier, I had not had many opportunities to put the skill to use in real combat. As such, I failed to put the proper distance between myself and my opponent before trying to cast a ray of freezing air at him. The spell shot over his shoulder as his blade sank into the flesh beneath my arm. I could feel the blood seep into my wool shirt beneath my armor, plastering the tattered cloth to the wound.

As a seasoned soldier, I pushed through the pain, but the battle dragged out as neither the lady nor myself could land a decisive blow. Eventually the half-orc, having decimated his half of the battle, moved to our side of the plaza to take out the remainder of the enemies. One by one they fell at his hand until finally, only one attacker still stood. His life ended thanks to a well placed dagger by the lady while he cowered from the half-orc’s raging visage. 

The half-orc smiled at the woman and patted her shoulder with a growly “good job”, while I clutched my side, ignored. He then kicked one of the corpses that surrounded us and asked, “Where are these weaklings from?” 

I could only shrug, but the half-elf mentioned some rumors of red-painted bandits she had heard before. She had no specifics, though. 

As we mulled over the mystery, I suddenly noticed that it hadn’t been three people fighting in the plaza, but four. A small halfling waddled through the fountain water that came up to his waist as blood streaked behind him. When he got to the edge, he clamored over the fountain wall and came to stand before the three of us. 

He was caramel in color with the robes and features of a native and a grim look on his face. “Who here is a citizen?” He demanded, but only the half-elf gave a reluctant “I am”. It seemed the half-orc was also a visitor unlucky enough to be in the city at the wrong time.

“Then you’re conscripted. You’ll be with me on this. I’m a member of the city guard.” The halfling mandated.

“I am?” The half-elf sneered scornfully, clearly not on board.

“We must defend the city.” He stated firmly, but the half-elf continued to express her reluctance. We didn’t have time for them to argue, here in the middle of a besieged city, and so I quickly stepped in.

“Have you seen any other guards of late? I don’t think only two, one conscripted, are going to be much good by themselves.” I interjected, and the halfling paused. 

“And who are you?” He asked. 

“You can just call me Arnny for now.” I replied in the interest of brevity. My full name could be a mouthful for those unfamiliar with the Elven tongue.

“Well, Arnny’s right, I stumbled upon some robed figures who seemed to have killed a guard. Have you seen anything like that?” The halfling asked as he looked at the group. 

“I haven’t seen any guards, but I have seen some dead people with some nasty wounds made by a robed figure in the… uh, in an alleyway.” The lady responded. 

“Like decaying nasty? On a fresh wound?” I asked, remembering the woman who had died in my arms earlier. 

“Yeah.” We began to muse over the connection between everything that had happened: the strange wounds, the robed figures, and the guards. It was clear by the timing that the robed figures had something to do with the red-painted attackers, but there wasn’t much any of us knew. Thus, before we said much, the half-elf stopped us. 

“I think this discussion would be better had somewhere safer.” She cautioned. 

“Then we should head to the guard station. Even if there are no guards there to help, it will at least have supplies.” The halfling suggested, and we all agreed, though the half-orc gave a token protest in favor of searching out more combat. The half-elf quickly assured him we’d probably find a fight on the way. After all, the city was under attack. 

Before we could decide which guard station to head to, however, a crowd of people came running through the plaza. Low and behold there was at least one guard other than the halfling left in the city. He was directing the group that raced by as they traveled through the war torn streets. He called out to us as they passed: 

“The walls have been breached! The city is lost! Head to the docks! We must escape the city!” With his brief warning delivered, he continued to herd the citizens to the south. We quickly decided to follow. 

What awaited us there was the bright, orange flames of all the city’s boats set afire. Massive ships all flying the same colors dotted the river. They clearly belonged to the red-painted soldiers who had taken the city. Behind us, those same enemies surrounded us, killing any who fought back. Eventually a lull in the battle appeared, and a leader among the attackers came forward. “Surrender or die.” He declared simply.

The half-orc who I had fought beside in the plaza immediately went to protest by readying his weapon until the half-elf put her hand on his arm to caution him. “There will be time for revenge another day.” 

“It will not be revenge for me.” He grunted back, still hesitant. 

“For me it will be.” She murmured with quiet fury. 

Something in those words, perhaps the fierce anger so lowly spoken, seemed to convince him “You promise me a good fight?” He asked.

“It will be.” She swore in a voice dripping with venom. With a grunt of agreement, he dropped his sword. Everyone in the crowd did as well. Surrender was the clearly logical choice. We were vastly outnumbered with no place to retreat. If even the battle-hungry half-orc could see it, how could the rest of us not? 

Logic did little for my heart as despair locked around it just as the cold metal of the shackles locked around my wrists. 

Almost a hundred and twenty years, and I was still as powerless as the night slavers invaded the small fishing village I was born in off the coast of Martovia. That night, the bells rang out as they had here, and my family fought as I had fought here. My father and eldest brother lay dead at our feet as my sister and I urged Tuenoril to surrender. Just as the woman had urged the half-orc. It was the clearly logical choice then too. But my mother never even saw Kessan, and my only remaining family despises even the sight of me. Was it logical if you died anyway? Was it logical if in return for your life you lost everyone you cared about?

I had hoped I would never have to make that choice again. I trained so I would never have to make that choice again. I thought I had become stronger since then. That I could at least defend myself if something like that ever happened again. 

I stared down at the shackles.

As the weight of my past and my present overtook me, all I could feel was a vast apathy resurging from a human lifetime ago. 

It must certainly be that the Elven gods are dead, and our fates cast off to crueler ones. 

[skiller0dani]

Lost in Love | Part One

Summary: You’re Hank Anderson’s daughter, Claire- and you have an obsessive nasty ex fiance, Gavin Reed. A police officer at the DPD whom you’ve been seeing for a few years. He can’t stand the fact that you fell in love with an android of all things. But no matter what he does, leaving him feels like the best decision you’ve ever made. Claire is the source of the humanity that grew in Connor, she showed him how to love- and how to feel. 

Pairing: Connor x Claire Anderson (OC) 

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Detroit Good Ending Spoilers, Violence, Abusive Ex, PTSD

A/N: Hi it’s been a while. Tumblr blocked my account, along with thousands of other accounts. Took me a few months to figure out how to unblock your account. If you try to access your Tumblr page and it doesn’t let you saying it has sexual content & you know it doesn’t break the terms and conditions then message me! I’ll help you get your Tumblr back! 

READ TEXT BELOW. IT’S VERY IMPORTANT TO THE STORY. 

SO! Connor is my favorite and this precious baby boy deserves a small fic c: enjoy! The bold word at the top of every part is the corresponding chapter in the game this chapter takes place in. This fic is going to have Connor’s chapters only, and the dialogue will be altered- this isn’t supposed to be exactly like the Game. It’s my adaptation of the story, with my own personal additions added to it. Some of the story will take place after the game’s end. 

Part 2 Masterlist

Partners

Connor approached the bar, scanning over the faces that passed by him. Opening the door he looks for Lieutenant Anderson, the human that’s been assigned the deviancy case with him. Noticing movement in the back of the bar he makes his way swiftly right behind the Lieutenant, who was ducking his head to avoid Connor. Connor’s eyes land on a young woman with dark hair and piercing blue eyes- Claire Anderson. The Lieutenants daughter, “Ms. Anderson? I’m Connor, the Android sent by Cyberlife. I’m looking for your Father- Lieutenant Anderson.” Connor introduces with a smile, watching as her cheeks warm at his presence. “Yeah, he’s over there having a drink, or ten.” She sighs and Connor makes a note of her personal feelings about the Lieutenants drinking habits. 

“Does the Lieutenant drink a lot?” Connor and Claire rolls her eyes, nodding. “Yep, he’s here more than he is at home.” She tells him leading him over towards Hank. Connor follows behind her, noticing a drunk middle aged man drunkenly following her every move with his eyes. His LED swirls from yellow to red, and then back to a steady blue as he takes note. “Dad, Dad! This is Connor the-” “-Android sent by Cyberlife.” Connor finishes, watching Hank roll his eyes. “Fucking great,” Hank mutters under his breath. Claire elbows Hank and gives him a look. “You were assigned a homicide that occurred tonight.” Claire told him. “I finally found you at the 4th bar!” Connor says with a smile and Hank looks over the two of them. He notices how they naturally stand close to each other and they have the same train of thought. It makes Hank extremely uncomfortable. 

“I’ve been assigned your Partner for this Investigation Lieutenant.” Connor says, watching how Hank gazes into his glass- completely ignoring him. Claire steps towards Connor, crossing her arms when she notices the lustful gaze of the drunk man Connor noticed earlier. “Bartender, the same again!” Connor says, noticing that in order to make Hank cooperate with him- he needs to get Hank to like him. Connor figures the easiest way to do this is buy him another drink. Hank really seems to like drinking. Hank grins, “at least you’re good for something. Wait for me outside,” Hank instructs, moving back towards the bathroom. Claire takes a few steps towards the door with Connor close behind her when that drunk man speaks up. “Hey baby, is that plastic prick bothering you?” He asks, swaying in front of her. “No I’m fine.” Claire says quietly, trying to move passed him. 

His arm grips hers, pulling her to stand behind him. The drunk man approaches Connor, standing a few inches shorter than him. “Leave me alone asshole!” Claire swears, trying to shove her way back towards Connor, “don’t worry I’ll keep you safe. I’ll please you the way this fucking asshole never could.” The drunk man tells her taking his attention off Connor- who still hasn’t said anything. When the man begins to rub his hands down Claire’s side a new instruction pops up in Connor’s program, Protect Claire. In an instant Connor is bending the man’s arm behind his back- near breaking it. “I think you should leave her alone.” Connor says, his voice tight and stern. The man laughs at Connor, attempting to slam his foot down on Connor’s- but Androids don’t feel pain so Connor doesn’t flinch as he yanks the man away from Claire and shoves him away from her. 

Connor positions himself between Claire and the drunk man. Connor stands taller, using his body to shield Claire. “You serious? She doesn’t want anything to do with you!” The angry man yells drunkenly, trying to get a glimpse of Claire. She hides behind Connor- feeling very safe with him even though she’s barely known him 40 minutes. “C’mere baby, I know you’re scared of this monster.” The man says and Claire boils over, “He’s not a monster, you are!” She yells as Hank emerges from the bathroom. It’s only just now that Connor realizes he’s reached for her hand. When Hank begins to lay into the drunk man for harassing his daughter Connor turns and places his hands on Claire’s shoulders. He leads her out of the bar and to the sidewalk where they wait for the Lieutenant. 

When Hank comes out of the bar he gives Connor a slight nod- a way of telling him thank you. “You okay?” Hank asks Claire pulling her into a tight hug. Connor’s mission is to stop the deviants but for a moment it felt like Protecting Claire was the top priority- but he knows that wasn’t true. He just needs to protect her to get on Hank’s good side. That’s all. It’s not because he wants to keep her safe because he doesn’t. Androids aren’t alive so therefor they can’t want anything. Logically Connor knows this- but something about her makes his program become overloaded with irrational instructions. He has to keep himself in check around her to prevent from going Deviant. 

Upon arriving at the crime scene- Connor enters the house with the approval of Hank. “Ms. Anderson, can I ask you a question?” Connor asks, watching as Claire joins them. “First, please call me Claire, and yes of course Connor.” She smiles and Connor realizes it will be very easy to get Claire to like him. She’s friendly and accepting, and never treats Connor like he’s an Android. He doesn’t know what to think about that. “Why are you joining us at the crime scene, civilians aren’t allowed?” Connor asks, tilting his head as a confused animal would. “I’m a detective in training, DPD has allowed me to shadow my dad on cases he’s a part of.” Claire explains and Connor makes a note of this in his archives. The briefing is long, and Connor spends most of the time examining the victim. Carlos Ortiz, who was stabbed 28 times by his Android. 

“That writing, it’s written in Cyberlife Sans.” Claire says, examining it closer, “a default font for Androids.” She explains and Hank nods- clearly impressed with his daughters intelligence. Connor can’t deny that he’s surprised she can recognize the font on sight, not many other people could. Humans don’t really use Cyberlife Sans, at least not when physically writing something. Claire glances over the evidence in the living room before moving towards the kitchen. Connor closely examines all evidence, beginning to piece together what happened the night Carlos Ortiz was murdered. “Hey Connor, can you come here?” Claire calls from the backyard, Connor immediately moves to join her. “Look at the soil, was it possible for the Android to escape from here?” She asks, and Connor takes a scan of the soil, “No, there’s only one clear set of prints from tonight. This type of soil would retain a hint of previous prints, so it didn’t come this way.” He explains and Claire nods, following him back inside. 

Connor finishes piecing together the events that took place and approaches Hank, “I think I know what happened.” Connor tells him and Hank nods, with a slight eye roll. Connor is learning to ignore those. “The victim attacked the android with the bat, and in return the android turned and stabbed the victim with the knife. The victim fled to the living room where the android murdered him with the knife, and stabbed him 28 times in the abdomen.” Connor recites and Hank raises a brow, “so your theory might not be that ridiculous...” he trails off. Connor glances around for Claire, and a tightness in his chest occurs when he can’t find her. His heart begins to pump thirium at a faster rate. This sensation within a Human is called panic. Connor moves back towards the kitchen and with a glance down the hallway he sees Claire entering the bathroom.

“Claire?” Connor calls, feeling the unpleasant sensation easing away as he joins her in the bathroom. The shower curtain is pulled back to reveal something Connor has never seen before. The word rA9 is written over and over and over again, written 189 times exactly. On the shower floor looks to be a religious offering with a wooden statue carved to resemble a man, or maybe an Android? “What the hell is this?” Claire asks Connor who scans over the odd sight before him. “I don’t know, we need to find out what ‘rA9′ is.” He concludes and Claire nods in agreement. “Connor, if the Android didn’t escape out the back door, and the front door was locked there’s no other exit right?” Claire asks and Connor nods, “all the windows were shut locked. So logically, the Android never left. It’s still here.” She says and Connor straightens, making sure to keep Claire near him. Deviant could be hiding anywhere. 

Connor begins scanning for evaporated traces of blue blood, “Connor what are you doing?” Hank asks watching how Connor and Claire keep looking around as though they’re looking for something. “Scanning for blue blood, the Deviant is still here.” He tells him as Claire retreats to the kitchen- returning with a chair. “Attic?” She suggests and Connor follows the blue blood directly to the attic. Claire is clever, more clever than any other Human Connor has ever met. Connor carefully opens the Attic turning towards Claire, “stay here. Could be dangerous.” He tells her and when he’s about to pull himself into the attic Claire grabs his hand, “be careful.” She whispers and a strange warm sensations shudders through Connor as he nods. 

Claire waits nervously as Hank approaches her, “what is it with you and the Android?” He snaps, concerned at the level of attachment Claire has with Connor. He doesn’t trust Connor. Not after Cole, he could never trust a damned Android again. Claire is all he has left, he has to protect her. “What do you mean? I like him, he’s kind.” Claire smiles and Hank’s nose scrunches in disgust. “Claire he’s not anything. He’s a machine. He can’t be kind because he doesn’t feel anything. Don’t forget that.” Hank tells her and she doesn’t answer because she feels it in her gut, he’s wrong. Connor can feel, he just doesn’t right now, but Claire knows that he can. He will. 

The silence is agonizing and just as Claire is moving to go up into the attic she hears Connor, “it’s here Lieutenant!” 

[matamisin]

Internship Part 1

TW: DARK THEMES

“Kirishima!” A loud, ecstatic voice rang out, sounding as its owner ran down the halls and approached towards the common room of 1-A’s dormitories. “Guys, turn the tv onto the news!”

The red head, turning his head from Kaminari, reached for the remote on the table, and flipped it on, waiting for the screen to broadcast the channel it was left on.

“What’s up, Kaminari, why do you want news?” A softer voice asked, sitting up on the couches to face the blonde. Ashido, shifted slightly in her spot, moving to make space for Kaminari to sit on.

Kaminari sat, hunching forward with his elbows on knees as his legs bounced up and down restlessly, and his eyes glued to the screen as he watched Kirishima flip through the channels to reach the news.

“You haven’t heard yet? You know how Sero’s at an internship with Kamui Woods?”

Other voices, now that everyone else also had their attention caught by Kaminari, all recalled. They nodded, they hummed, further curious about what was going on.

“Guys, they’re fighting a Nomu!” Kaminari exclaimed, as the tv just so happened to have finally turned to the right channel.

Sounds of shock, surprise, excitement, all that, filled the room as everyone watched the scene unfolding on the screen.

A news broadcaster was reporting live on the case, in a helicopter that was quite a distance from the battle, but the intense scene was still visible from the background as three heroes and a Nomu were all focused on each other.

“We’re back, and the fight still rages on as pro hero Kamui Woods and who seem to be his interns are caught up fighting a beast that suddenly appeared,” she informed, taking glimpses back to the havoc. “Like other cases, it’s believed that this is linked to the League of Villains.”

“See? It’s another Nomu!” Kaminari said, pointing to the screen when the camera panned to get a small glance at the creature.

Midoriya sat up, trying to get a closer look at the fight that blurred on screen. He furrowed an eyebrow, raising a hand to rub his chin. “It is! But, it looks different, doesn’t it? That Nomu looks smaller than all the others I’ve ever seen.”

Yaoyorozu, standing behind the couch, nodded in agreement. “That’s true. Though, I do think it doesn’t make it weaker, look,” she pointed towards the screen, “it has got quite the speed with its small size, and its quirks themselves seem powerful already.”

A look to the screen again, the students all watched in anticipation as the camera tried to catch the battle as best as it could.

There was small-scale destruction, some building were smashed in here and there, and poles were collapsed probably from being hit. The Nomu sprang around, broken pieces of tape covering parts of it and fluttering in the wind. Suddenly, another shot of tape flew at its face, sticking on and blocking out it’s vision.

The camera panned to the teen, who swung from pole to pole before landing on top of a building.

“Yeah! There’s our guy!” The others cheered back at the dorms.

“Ah,” Ashido started. She tilted her head slightly, pointing to the screen. “Who’s that? That guy next to Sero?”

“Hmm, it’s not Kamui Woods- he was running around on the ground earlier,” Ojiro remarked, recalling seeing the pro hero being in closer range of the Nomu.

Kirishima held a hand up, “Ah, that guy? Sero told me he was interning at the same time as another dude- I bet that’s him!”

“Oh! Man this is so exciting!” Hagakure cheered, plopping down onto the couch. “We get to watch Sero in real action!”

Kaminari gave a small chuckle. “Haha, yeah, yeah, you’re right! This is gonna be great!”

The class murmured as they all sat, as their veins filled with adrenaline to watch the fight unfold.

---

Teachers' Lounge

“They’re fairing well, don’t you think, Aizawa?”

“Hmm,” the man with messy hair nodded. He crossed his arms, leaned back in his seat. “They are, for a Nomu of that kind.”

“Young Sero seems to be finding more and more ways to use his quirk in this situation,” All Might stated, taking a sip from his coffee before setting it back down onto the table. “Of course, I already knew he had a lot of potential in a fight like that- he just had to find them once he was placed in the heat of the moment.”

---

Sero dodged the Nomu’s indiscriminate attacks as it fired debris around. He jumped from poles, using his tape to latch onto another object to swing into better space.

“Remember, you two!” Kamui’s voice called from Sero's helmet. “Keep your distance from it, I’ll handle things down here while you two back me and civilians up from behind until the scene is cleared!”

“Got it!” Sero answered, still swinging from a pole to a building before seeing a big hunk of debris being hurled towards Kamui.

“Woah, watch out, sir!”

Sero immediately took his free arm and shot out tape, catching the piece in it’s tracks and pulling back before cutting the tape, watching as the debris fell straight down and smashing into the ground.

“Ah- thank you, Sero!”

“No prob- augh-!” Sero tried to answer, before his path of swinging was construed from his action, and instead of landing nicely onto the building, he hit the end, rolling and scraping onto the surface before he skidded himself to a stop. “No problem, sir! I gotchu!” He hacked out, catching his breath.

---

Back at the dorms, a sigh filled the air from everyone’s relief. No damage, he was doing alright. Though they couldn’t any of their words, they could tell that their classmate was strong, collected, and was smiling through the rush of the fight against a dangerous creature.

---

Sero picked himself up, on his knees, as he tried to shake off the impact. Another person came along, rushing to his side.

“Are you alright, Cellophane?”

“Ah yeah, I’m good, Moji, I’m good!” The black haired boy repeated, “just scrapes.”

The other teen, Moji, held out a hand to Sero, and pulled him to his feet when he grabbed on.

“Good, ah but, take your helmet off real quick. I think you might have gotten an injury from your slip judging from your.. Lack of balance.”

“I’m fine, it’s just a little dizziness but it’ll go away.”

“Please, I just want to make sure, Sero.”

---

“Mm, it seems they’re having slight difficulties, huh Midoriya?” Iida’s voice asked, looking to the green-haired boy.

“Yeah I think. They’re holding the Nomu off well to minimalize the damage, but.. all their quirks are harder to mix in this situation.”

Kirishima turned his head, rubbing a hand on the nape of his neck. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Kamui’s quirk is good for capture and some mid-range attacks, but the Nomu has strength over him and can break free easy. Plus, he's still trying to evacuate the civilians,” he pointed out one finger. “And Sero’s tape is good for capture too and to stop damage, but it looks like he’s staying far from the Nomu. He can use it to create weapons to fight with, but again, he’s not getting close.” He pointed out another finger. “And, the other intern’s quirk- do you know what it is?”

“It’s strings.”

Another voice entered. Midoriya leaned forward, peeking past Kirishima, and seeing Bakugou. With his arms crossed, he kept his eyes on the screen.

“He can use strings to manipulate objects.”

Midoriya nodded his head slowly. “I see. It’s similar to Sero then? Though, I think he’d have other ways of using it.”

“What the!!- holy shit, what is he doing?!” Kaminari’s voice cried all of a sudden as he jumped up from his seat, hands grabbing onto locks of his hair.

Everyone snapped their eyes to the screen, listening closely to the voice that reported.

“Ah, what’s this? One of Kamui’s interns is going against orders- he’s rushing towards the Nomu!”

“Sero, what are you doing?!” Kamui called from the ground, one hand busy from keeping a building from collapsing as the last few people evacuated.

He pulled his free hand forward, reaching towards the Nomu and his intern. His hand quickly shifted and phased into wildly growing wood and roots as it flew through the air to try to prevent the two from colliding by forming a wall, but was stopped as the Nomu grabbed onto him, crushing the wood between it’s grasps, and used it as a launch pad to continue towards the teen.

“Oh my god, Sero!” His peers cried from the dorms, all out of their seats and hearts beating furiously.

Bakugou grinded his teeth at the scene as his fists gripped in front of him tightly- he couldn’t believe what was happening!

Suddenly, he dropped his furious stare, watching his classmate jumping into the danger. His eyes widened.

It was unclear due to the camera’s distance, but it was there. He definitely saw it and there was no doubt about it.

At the teachers’ lounge, Toshinori and Aizawa watched, as well as the other teachers who have come along. Eyes all shocked, sweat dripping from their foreheads.

On screen, the cameras caught the brutal scene of the Nomu and Sero clashing, the Nomu immediately grabbing him, in a crushing grip and throwing him at high velocity towards a collapsing building, sending him to break through the walls and deep into the structure. In a matter of seconds, the middle gave out and the building came crumbling down.

“Turn the cameras off, turn them off!”

And suddenly, the screen cut off, as static filled it and a high-pitched beep filled the ears of viewers.